TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT I



SCENE I	Athens. A hall in Timon's house.


	[Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and
	others, at several doors]

Poet	Good day, sir.

Painter	                  I am glad you're well.

Poet	I have not seen you long: how goes the world?

Painter	It wears, sir, as it grows.

Poet	Ay, that's well known:
	But what particular rarity? what strange,
	Which manifold record not matches? See,
	Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power
	Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.

Painter	I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

Merchant	O, 'tis a worthy lord.

Jeweller	Nay, that's most fix'd.

Merchant	A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,
	To an untirable and continuate goodness:
	He passes.

Jeweller:	I have a jewel here--

Merchant	O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?

Jeweller:	If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--

Poet	[Reciting to himself]  'When we for recompense have
	praised the vile,
	It stains the glory in that happy verse
	Which aptly sings the good.'

Merchant	'Tis a good form.

	[Looking at the jewel]

Jeweller	And rich: here is a water, look ye.

Painter	You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication
	To the great lord.

Poet	                  A thing slipp'd idly from me.
	Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes
	From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint
	Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
	Provokes itself and like the current flies
	Each bound it chafes. What have you there?

Painter	A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?

Poet	Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.
	Let's see your piece.

Painter	'Tis a good piece.

Poet	So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.

Painter	Indifferent.

Poet	                  Admirable: how this grace
	Speaks his own standing! what a mental power
	This eye shoots forth! how big imagination
	Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
	One might interpret.

Painter	It is a pretty mocking of the life.
	Here is a touch; is't good?

Poet	I will say of it,
	It tutors nature: artificial strife
	Lives in these touches, livelier than life.

	[Enter certain Senators, and pass over]

Painter	How this lord is follow'd!

Poet	The senators of Athens: happy man!

Painter	Look, more!

Poet	You see this confluence, this great flood
	of visitors.
	I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man,
	Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug
	With amplest entertainment: my free drift
	Halts not particularly, but moves itself
	In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice
	Infects one comma in the course I hold;
	But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
	Leaving no tract behind.

Painter	How shall I understand you?

Poet	I will unbolt to you.
	You see how all conditions, how all minds,
	As well of glib and slippery creatures as
	Of grave and austere quality, tender down
	Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune
	Upon his good and gracious nature hanging
	Subdues and properties to his love and tendance
	All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer
	To Apemantus, that few things loves better
	Than to abhor himself: even he drops down
	The knee before him, and returns in peace
	Most rich in Timon's nod.

Painter	I saw them speak together.

Poet	Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill
	Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount
	Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures,
	That labour on the bosom of this sphere
	To propagate their states: amongst them all,
	Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd,
	One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,
	Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her;
	Whose present grace to present slaves and servants
	Translates his rivals.

Painter	'Tis conceived to scope.
	This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks,
	With one man beckon'd from the rest below,
	Bowing his head against the sleepy mount
	To climb his happiness, would be well express'd
	In our condition.

Poet	                  Nay, sir, but hear me on.
	All those which were his fellows but of late,
	Some better than his value, on the moment
	Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,
	Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,
	Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him
	Drink the free air.

Painter	Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet	When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
	Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants
	Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top
	Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,
	Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Painter	'Tis common:
	A thousand moral paintings I can show
	That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's
	More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well
	To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen
	The foot above the head.

	[Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself
	courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from
	VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other
	servants following]

TIMON	Imprison'd is he, say you?

Messenger	Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt,
	His means most short, his creditors most strait:
	Your honourable letter he desires
	To those have shut him up; which failing,
	Periods his comfort.

TIMON	Noble Ventidius! Well;
	I am not of that feather to shake off
	My friend when he must need me. I do know him
	A gentleman that well deserves a help:
	Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt,
	and free him.

Messenger	Your lordship ever binds him.

TIMON	Commend me to him: I will send his ransom;
	And being enfranchised, bid him come to me.
	'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
	But to support him after. Fare you well.

Messenger	All happiness to your honour!

	[Exit]

	[Enter an old Athenian]

Old Athenian	Lord Timon, hear me speak.

TIMON	Freely, good father.

Old Athenian	Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

TIMON	I have so: what of him?

Old Athenian	Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.

TIMON	Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!

LUCILIUS	Here, at your lordship's service.

Old Athenian	This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,
	By night frequents my house. I am a man
	That from my first have been inclined to thrift;
	And my estate deserves an heir more raised
	Than one which holds a trencher.

TIMON	Well; what further?

Old Athenian	One only daughter have I, no kin else,
	On whom I may confer what I have got:
	The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,
	And I have bred her at my dearest cost
	In qualities of the best. This man of thine
	Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,
	Join with me to forbid him her resort;
	Myself have spoke in vain.

TIMON	The man is honest.

Old Athenian	Therefore he will be, Timon:
	His honesty rewards him in itself;
	It must not bear my daughter.

TIMON	Does she love him?

Old Athenian	She is young and apt:
	Our own precedent passions do instruct us
	What levity's in youth.

TIMON	[To LUCILIUS]           Love you the maid?

LUCILIUS	Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.

Old Athenian	If in her marriage my consent be missing,
	I call the gods to witness, I will choose
	Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world,
	And dispossess her all.

TIMON	How shall she be endow'd,
	if she be mated with an equal husband?

Old Athenian	Three talents on the present; in future, all.

TIMON	This gentleman of mine hath served me long:
	To build his fortune I will strain a little,
	For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter:
	What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise,
	And make him weigh with her.

Old Athenian	Most noble lord,
	Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.

TIMON	My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.

LUCILIUS	Humbly I thank your lordship: never may
	The state or fortune fall into my keeping,
	Which is not owed to you!

	[Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian]

Poet	Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!

TIMON	I thank you; you shall hear from me anon:
	Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Painter	A piece of painting, which I do beseech
	Your lordship to accept.

TIMON	Painting is welcome.
	The painting is almost the natural man;
	or since dishonour traffics with man's nature,
	He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are
	Even such as they give out. I like your work;
	And you shall find I like it: wait attendance
	Till you hear further from me.

Painter	The gods preserve ye!

TIMON	Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;
	We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel
	Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jeweller	What, my lord! dispraise?

TIMON	A more satiety of commendations.
	If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd,
	It would unclew me quite.

Jeweller	My lord, 'tis rated
	As those which sell would give: but you well know,
	Things of like value differing in the owners
	Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord,
	You mend the jewel by the wearing it.

TIMON	Well mock'd.

Merchant	No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue,
	Which all men speak with him.

TIMON	Look, who comes here: will you be chid?

	[Enter APEMANTUS]

Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship.

Merchant	He'll spare none.

TIMON	Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!

APEMANTUS	Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;
	When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.

TIMON	Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

APEMANTUS	Are they not Athenians?

TIMON	Yes.

APEMANTUS	Then I repent not.

Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name.

TIMON	Thou art proud, Apemantus.

APEMANTUS	Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.

TIMON	Whither art going?

APEMANTUS	To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

TIMON	That's a deed thou'lt die for.

APEMANTUS	Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.

TIMON	How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	The best, for the innocence.

TIMON	Wrought he not well that painted it?

APEMANTUS	He wrought better that made the painter; and yet
	he's but a filthy piece of work.

Painter	You're a dog.

APEMANTUS	Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog?

TIMON	Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	No; I eat not lords.

TIMON	An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies.

APEMANTUS	O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.

TIMON	That's a lascivious apprehension.

APEMANTUS	So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.

TIMON	How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a
	man a doit.

TIMON	What dost thou think 'tis worth?

APEMANTUS	Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!

Poet	How now, philosopher!

APEMANTUS	Thou liest.

Poet	Art not one?

APEMANTUS	Yes.

Poet	Then I lie not.

APEMANTUS	Art not a poet?

Poet	Yes.

APEMANTUS	Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou
	hast feigned him a worthy fellow.

Poet	That's not feigned; he is so.

APEMANTUS	Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
	labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o'
	the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

TIMON	What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.

TIMON	What, thyself?

APEMANTUS	Ay.

TIMON	Wherefore?

APEMANTUS	That I had no angry wit to be a lord.
	Art not thou a merchant?

Merchant	Ay, Apemantus.

APEMANTUS	Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

Merchant	If traffic do it, the gods do it.

APEMANTUS	Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee!

	[Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger]

TIMON	What trumpet's that?

Messenger	'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse,
	All of companionship.

TIMON	Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.

	[Exeunt some Attendants]

	You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
	Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done,
	Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.

	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest]

	Most welcome, sir!

APEMANTUS	                  So, so, there!
	Aches contract and starve your supple joints!
	That there should be small love 'mongst these
	sweet knaves,
	And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out
	Into baboon and monkey.

ALCIBIADES	Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed
	Most hungerly on your sight.

TIMON	Right welcome, sir!
	Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time
	In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.

	[Exeunt all except APEMANTUS]

	[Enter two Lords]

First Lord	What time o' day is't, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Time to be honest.

First Lord	That time serves still.

APEMANTUS	The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.

Second Lord	Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?

APEMANTUS	Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

Second Lord	Fare thee well, fare thee well.

APEMANTUS	Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Second Lord	Why, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to
	give thee none.

First Lord	Hang thyself!

APEMANTUS	No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy
	requests to thy friend.

Second Lord	Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence!

APEMANTUS	I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass.

	[Exit]

First Lord	He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,
	And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes
	The very heart of kindness.

Second Lord	He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold,
	Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays
	Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him,
	But breeds the giver a return exceeding
	All use of quittance.

First Lord	The noblest mind he carries
	That ever govern'd man.

Second Lord	Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?

First Lord	I'll keep you company.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT I



SCENE II	A banqueting-room in Timon's house.


	[Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet
	served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter
	TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS.
	Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS,
	discontentedly, like himself]

VENTIDIUS	Most honour'd Timon,
	It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age,
	And call him to long peace.
	He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
	Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound
	To your free heart, I do return those talents,
	Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help
	I derived liberty.

TIMON	                  O, by no means,
	Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:
	I gave it freely ever; and there's none
	Can truly say he gives, if he receives:
	If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
	To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.

VENTIDIUS	A noble spirit!

TIMON	                  Nay, my lords,

	[They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON]

	Ceremony was but devised at first
	To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
	Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown;
	But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
	Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes
	Than my fortunes to me.

	[They sit]

First Lord	My lord, we always have confess'd it.

APEMANTUS	Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?

TIMON	O, Apemantus, you are welcome.

APEMANTUS	No;
	You shall not make me welcome:
	I come to have thee thrust me out of doors.

TIMON	Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there
	Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame.
	They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond
	man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by
	himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is
	he fit for't, indeed.

APEMANTUS	Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to
	observe; I give thee warning on't.

TIMON	I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian,
	therefore welcome: I myself would have no power;
	prithee, let my meat make thee silent.

APEMANTUS	I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should
	ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of
	men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me
	to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood;
	and all the madness is, he cheers them up too.
	I wonder men dare trust themselves with men:
	Methinks they should invite them without knives;
	Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.
	There's much example for't; the fellow that sits
	next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the
	breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest
	man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a
	huge man, I should fear to drink at meals;
	Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:
	Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

TIMON	My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.

Second Lord	Let it flow this way, my good lord.

APEMANTUS	Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides
	well. Those healths will make thee and thy state
	look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to
	be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:
	This and my food are equals; there's no odds:
	Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.

	Apemantus' grace.

	Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
	I pray for no man but myself:
	Grant I may never prove so fond,
	To trust man on his oath or bond;
	Or a harlot, for her weeping;
	Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping:
	Or a keeper with my freedom;
	Or my friends, if I should need 'em.
	Amen. So fall to't:
	Rich men sin, and I eat root.

	[Eats and drinks]

	Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus!

TIMON	Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.

ALCIBIADES	My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

TIMON	You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a
	dinner of friends.

ALCIBIADES	So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat
	like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast.

APEMANTUS	Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then,
	that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em!

First Lord	Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you
	would once use our hearts, whereby we might express
	some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves
	for ever perfect.

TIMON	O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods
	themselves have provided that I shall have much help
	from you: how had you been my friends else? why
	have you that charitable title from thousands, did
	not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told
	more of you to myself than you can with modesty
	speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm
	you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any
	friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they
	were the most needless creatures living, should we
	ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble
	sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their
	sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished
	myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We
	are born to do benefits: and what better or
	properer can we can our own than the riches of our
	friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have
	so many, like brothers, commanding one another's
	fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born!
	Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to
	forget their faults, I drink to you.

APEMANTUS	Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon.

Second Lord	Joy had the like conception in our eyes
	And at that instant like a babe sprung up.

APEMANTUS	Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

Third Lord	I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

APEMANTUS	Much!

	[Tucket, within]

TIMON	What means that trump?

	[Enter a Servant]

		 How now?

Servant	Please you, my lord, there are certain
	ladies most desirous of admittance.

TIMON	Ladies! what are their wills?

Servant	There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which
	bears that office, to signify their pleasures.

TIMON	I pray, let them be admitted.

	[Enter Cupid]

Cupid	Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all
	That of his bounties taste! The five best senses
	Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely
	To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear,
	Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise;
	They only now come but to feast thine eyes.

TIMON	They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance:
	Music, make their welcome!

	[Exit Cupid]

First Lord	You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved.

	[Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies
	as Amazons, with lutes in their hands,
	dancing and playing]

APEMANTUS	Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way!
	They dance! they are mad women.
	Like madness is the glory of this life.
	As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
	We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves;
	And spend our flatteries, to drink those men
	Upon whose age we void it up again,
	With poisonous spite and envy.
	Who lives that's not depraved or depraves?
	Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves
	Of their friends' gift?
	I should fear those that dance before me now
	Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;
	Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

	[The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of
	TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an
	Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty
	strain or two to the hautboys, and cease]

TIMON	You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,
	Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,
	Which was not half so beautiful and kind;
	You have added worth unto 't and lustre,
	And entertain'd me with mine own device;
	I am to thank you for 't.

First Lady	My lord, you take us even at the best.

APEMANTUS	'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold
	taking, I doubt me.

TIMON	Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you:
	Please you to dispose yourselves.

All Ladies	Most thankfully, my lord.

	[Exeunt Cupid and Ladies]

TIMON	Flavius.

FLAVIUS	My lord?

TIMON	       The little casket bring me hither.

FLAVIUS	Yes, my lord. More jewels yet!
	There is no crossing him in 's humour;

	[Aside]

	Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should,
	When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could.
	'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,
	That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.

	[Exit]

First Lord	Where be our men?

Servant	Here, my lord, in readiness.

Second Lord	Our horses!

	[Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket]

TIMON	          O my friends,
	I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,
	I must entreat you, honour me so much
	As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,
	Kind my lord.

First Lord	I am so far already in your gifts,--

All	So are we all.

	[Enter a Servant]

Servant	My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate
	Newly alighted, and come to visit you.

TIMON	They are fairly welcome.

FLAVIUS	I beseech your honour,
	Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near.

TIMON	Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee:
	I prithee, let's be provided to show them
	entertainment.

FLAVIUS	[Aside]  I scarce know how.

	[Enter a Second Servant]

Second Servant	May it please your honour, Lord Lucius,
	Out of his free love, hath presented to you
	Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.

TIMON	I shall accept them fairly; let the presents
	Be worthily entertain'd.

	[Enter a third Servant]

		   How now! what news?

Third Servant	Please you, my lord, that honourable
	gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company
	to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour
	two brace of greyhounds.

TIMON	I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,
	Not without fair reward.

FLAVIUS	[Aside]                What will this come to?
	He commands us to provide, and give great gifts,
	And all out of an empty coffer:
	Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this,
	To show him what a beggar his heart is,
	Being of no power to make his wishes good:
	His promises fly so beyond his state
	That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes
	For every word: he is so kind that he now
	Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books.
	Well, would I were gently put out of office
	Before I were forced out!
	Happier is he that has no friend to feed
	Than such that do e'en enemies exceed.
	I bleed inwardly for my lord.

	[Exit]

TIMON	You do yourselves
	Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits:
	Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.

Second Lord	With more than common thanks I will receive it.

Third Lord	O, he's the very soul of bounty!

TIMON	And now I remember, my lord, you gave
	Good words the other day of a bay courser
	I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it.

Second Lord	O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that.

TIMON	You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man
	Can justly praise but what he does affect:
	I weigh my friend's affection with mine own;
	I'll tell you true. I'll call to you.

All Lords	O, none so welcome.

TIMON	I take all and your several visitations
	So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give;
	Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,
	And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades,
	Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich;
	It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living
	Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast
	Lie in a pitch'd field.

ALCIBIADES	Ay, defiled land, my lord.

First Lord	We are so virtuously bound--

TIMON	And so
	Am I to you.

Second Lord	So infinitely endear'd--

TIMON	All to you. Lights, more lights!

First Lord	The best of happiness,
	Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon!

TIMON	Ready for his friends.

	[Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON]

APEMANTUS	What a coil's here!
	Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums!
	I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums
	That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:
	Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs,
	Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.

TIMON	Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be
	good to thee.

APEMANTUS	No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,
	there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then
	thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long,
	Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in
	paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and
	vain-glories?

TIMON	Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am
	sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come
	with better music.

	[Exit]

APEMANTUS	So:
	Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then:
	I'll lock thy heaven from thee.
	O, that men's ears should be
	To counsel deaf, but not to flattery!

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT II



SCENE I	A Senator's house.


	[Enter Senator, with papers in his hand]

Senator	And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
	He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum,
	Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion
	Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not.
	If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog,
	And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold.
	If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more
	Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon,
	Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight,
	And able horses. No porter at his gate,
	But rather one that smiles and still invites
	All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason
	Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho!
	Caphis, I say!

	[Enter CAPHIS]

CAPHIS	Here, sir; what is your pleasure?

Senator	Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon;
	Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased
	With slight denial, nor then silenced when--
	'Commend me to your master'--and the cap
	Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
	My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn
	Out of mine own; his days and times are past
	And my reliances on his fracted dates
	Have smit my credit: I love and honour him,
	But must not break my back to heal his finger;
	Immediate are my needs, and my relief
	Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words,
	But find supply immediate. Get you gone:
	Put on a most importunate aspect,
	A visage of demand; for, I do fear,
	When every feather sticks in his own wing,
	Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
	Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone.

CAPHIS	I go, sir.

Senator	'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you,
	And have the dates in contempt.

CAPHIS	I will, sir.

Senator	Go.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT II



SCENE II	The same. A hall in Timon's house.


	[Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand]

FLAVIUS	No care, no stop! so senseless of expense,
	That he will neither know how to maintain it,
	Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account
	How things go from him, nor resumes no care
	Of what is to continue: never mind
	Was to be so unwise, to be so kind.
	What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel:
	I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
	Fie, fie, fie, fie!

	[Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro]

CAPHIS	Good even, Varro: what,
	You come for money?

Varro's Servant	Is't not your business too?

CAPHIS	It is: and yours too, Isidore?

Isidore's Servant	It is so.

CAPHIS	Would we were all discharged!

Varro's Servant	I fear it.

CAPHIS	Here comes the lord.

	[Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, &c]

TIMON	So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again,
	My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will?

CAPHIS	My lord, here is a note of certain dues.

TIMON	Dues! Whence are you?

CAPHIS	Of Athens here, my lord.

TIMON	Go to my steward.

CAPHIS	Please it your lordship, he hath put me off
	To the succession of new days this month:
	My master is awaked by great occasion
	To call upon his own, and humbly prays you
	That with your other noble parts you'll suit
	In giving him his right.

TIMON	Mine honest friend,
	I prithee, but repair to me next morning.

CAPHIS	Nay, good my lord,--

TIMON	Contain thyself, good friend.

Varro's Servant	One Varro's servant, my good lord,--

Isidore's Servant	From Isidore;
	He humbly prays your speedy payment.

CAPHIS	If you did know, my lord, my master's wants--

Varro's Servant	'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past.

Isidore's Servant	         Your steward puts me off, my lord;
	And I am sent expressly to your lordship.

TIMON	Give me breath.
	I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on;
	I'll wait upon you instantly.

	[Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords]

	[To FLAVIUS]

		        Come hither: pray you,
	How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd
	With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds,
	And the detention of long-since-due debts,
	Against my honour?

FLAVIUS	                  Please you, gentlemen,
	The time is unagreeable to this business:
	Your importunacy cease till after dinner,
	That I may make his lordship understand
	Wherefore you are not paid.

TIMON	Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd.

	[Exit]

FLAVIUS	Pray, draw near.

	[Exit]

	[Enter APEMANTUS and Fool]

CAPHIS	Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus:
	let's ha' some sport with 'em.

Varro's Servant	Hang him, he'll abuse us.

Isidore's Servant	A plague upon him, dog!

Varro's Servant	How dost, fool?

APEMANTUS	Dost dialogue with thy shadow?

Varro's Servant	I speak not to thee.

APEMANTUS	No,'tis to thyself.

	[To the Fool]

	Come away.

Isidore's Servant	There's the fool hangs on your back already.

APEMANTUS	No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet.

CAPHIS	Where's the fool now?

APEMANTUS	He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and
	usurers' men! bawds between gold and want!

All Servants	What are we, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Asses.

All Servants	Why?

APEMANTUS	That you ask me what you are, and do not know
	yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool.

Fool	How do you, gentlemen?

All Servants	Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress?

Fool	She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens
	as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth!

APEMANTUS	Good! gramercy.

	[Enter Page]

Fool	Look you, here comes my mistress' page.

Page	[To the Fool]  Why, how now, captain! what do you
	in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer
	thee profitably.

Page	Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of
	these letters: I know not which is which.

APEMANTUS	Canst not read?

Page	No.

APEMANTUS	There will little learning die then, that day thou
	art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to
	Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't
	die a bawd.

Page	Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a
	dog's death. Answer not; I am gone.

	[Exit]

APEMANTUS	E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with
	you to Lord Timon's.

Fool	Will you leave me there?

APEMANTUS	If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers?

All Servants	Ay; would they served us!

APEMANTUS	So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief.

Fool	Are you three usurers' men?

All Servants	Ay, fool.

Fool	I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my
	mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come
	to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and
	go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house
	merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this?

Varro's Servant	I could render one.

APEMANTUS	Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster
	and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be
	no less esteemed.

Varro's Servant	What is a whoremaster, fool?

Fool	A fool in good clothes, and something like thee.
	'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord;
	sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher,
	with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is
	very often like a knight; and, generally, in all
	shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore
	to thirteen, this spirit walks in.

Varro's Servant	Thou art not altogether a fool.

Fool	Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as
	I have, so much wit thou lackest.

APEMANTUS	That answer might have become Apemantus.

All Servants	Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.

	[Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS]

APEMANTUS	Come with me, fool, come.

Fool	I do not always follow lover, elder brother and
	woman; sometime the philosopher.

	[Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool]

FLAVIUS	Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon.

	[Exeunt Servants]

TIMON	You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time
	Had you not fully laid my state before me,
	That I might so have rated my expense,
	As I had leave of means?

FLAVIUS	You would not hear me,
	At many leisures I proposed.

TIMON	Go to:
	Perchance some single vantages you took.
	When my indisposition put you back:
	And that unaptness made your minister,
	Thus to excuse yourself.

FLAVIUS	O my good lord,
	At many times I brought in my accounts,
	Laid them before you; you would throw them off,
	And say, you found them in mine honesty.
	When, for some trifling present, you have bid me
	Return so much, I have shook my head and wept;
	Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you
	To hold your hand more close: I did endure
	Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have
	Prompted you in the ebb of your estate
	And your great flow of debts. My loved lord,
	Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time--
	The greatest of your having lacks a half
	To pay your present debts.

TIMON	Let all my land be sold.

FLAVIUS	'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone;
	And what remains will hardly stop the mouth
	Of present dues: the future comes apace:
	What shall defend the interim? and at length
	How goes our reckoning?

TIMON	To Lacedaemon did my land extend.

FLAVIUS	O my good lord, the world is but a word:
	Were it all yours to give it in a breath,
	How quickly were it gone!

TIMON	You tell me true.

FLAVIUS	If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood,
	Call me before the exactest auditors
	And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me,
	When all our offices have been oppress'd
	With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept
	With drunken spilth of wine, when every room
	Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy,
	I have retired me to a wasteful cock,
	And set mine eyes at flow.

TIMON	Prithee, no more.

FLAVIUS	Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord!
	How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants
	This night englutted! Who is not Timon's?
	What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is
	Lord Timon's?
	Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon!
	Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise,
	The breath is gone whereof this praise is made:
	Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers,
	These flies are couch'd.

TIMON	Come, sermon me no further:
	No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart;
	Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given.
	Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack,
	To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart;
	If I would broach the vessels of my love,
	And try the argument of hearts by borrowing,
	Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use
	As I can bid thee speak.

FLAVIUS	Assurance bless your thoughts!

TIMON	And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd,
	That I account them blessings; for by these
	Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you
	Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends.
	Within there! Flaminius! Servilius!

	[Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants]

Servants	My lord? my lord?

TIMON	I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius;
	to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour
	to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their
	loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have
	found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let
	the request be fifty talents.

FLAMINIUS	As you have said, my lord.

FLAVIUS	[Aside]  Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum!

TIMON	Go you, sir, to the senators--
	Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have
	Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant
	A thousand talents to me.

FLAVIUS	I have been bold--
	For that I knew it the most general way--
	To them to use your signet and your name;
	But they do shake their heads, and I am here
	No richer in return.

TIMON	Is't true? can't be?

FLAVIUS	They answer, in a joint and corporate voice,
	That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot
	Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,--
	But yet they could have wish'd--they know not--
	Something hath been amiss--a noble nature
	May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;--
	And so, intending other serious matters,
	After distasteful looks and these hard fractions,
	With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods
	They froze me into silence.

TIMON	You gods, reward them!
	Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows
	Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
	Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows;
	'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind;
	And nature, as it grows again toward earth,
	Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy.

	[To a Servant]

	Go to Ventidius.

	[To FLAVIUS]

	Prithee, be not sad,
	Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak.
	No blame belongs to thee.

	[To Servant]

		    Ventidius lately
	Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd
	Into a great estate: when he was poor,
	Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends,
	I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me;
	Bid him suppose some good necessity
	Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd
	With those five talents.

	[Exit Servant]

	[To FLAVIUS]

		   That had, give't these fellows
	To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think,
	That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink.

FLAVIUS	I would I could not think it: that thought is
	bounty's foe;
	Being free itself, it thinks all others so.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE I	A room in Lucullus' house.


	[FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him]

Servant	I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you.

FLAMINIUS	I thank you, sir.

	[Enter LUCULLUS]

Servant	Here's my lord.

LUCULLUS	[Aside]  One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I
	warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver
	basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest
	Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir.
	Fill me some wine.

	[Exit Servants]

	And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted
	gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord
	and master?

FLAMINIUS	His health is well sir.

LUCULLUS	I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and
	what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius?

FLAMINIUS	'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my
	lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to
	supply; who, having great and instant occasion to
	use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to
	furnish him, nothing doubting your present
	assistance therein.

LUCULLUS	La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas,
	good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not
	keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha'
	dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to
	supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less,
	and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning
	by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty
	is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get
	him from't.

	[Re-enter Servant, with wine]

Servant	Please your lordship, here is the wine.

LUCULLUS	Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee.

FLAMINIUS	Your lordship speaks your pleasure.

LUCULLUS	I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt
	spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what
	belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if
	the time use thee well: good parts in thee.

	[To Servant]

	Get you gone, sirrah.

	[Exit Servant]

	Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a
	bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou
	knowest well enough, although thou comest to me,
	that this is no time to lend money, especially upon
	bare friendship, without security. Here's three
	solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say
	thou sawest me not. Fare thee well.

FLAMINIUS	Is't possible the world should so much differ,
	And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness,
	To him that worships thee!

	[Throwing the money back]

LUCULLUS	Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master.

	[Exit]

FLAMINIUS	May these add to the number that may scald thee!
	Let moulten coin be thy damnation,
	Thou disease of a friend, and not himself!
	Has friendship such a faint and milky heart,
	It turns in less than two nights? O you gods,
	I feel master's passion! this slave,
	Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him:
	Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment,
	When he is turn'd to poison?
	O, may diseases only work upon't!
	And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature
	Which my lord paid for, be of any power
	To expel sickness, but prolong his hour!

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE II	A public place.


	[Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers]

LUCILIUS	Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and
	an honourable gentleman.

First Stranger	We know him for no less, though we are but strangers
	to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and
	which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's
	happy hours are done and past, and his estate
	shrinks from him.

LUCILIUS	Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money.

Second Stranger	But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago,
	one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow
	so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and
	showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied.

LUCILIUS	How!

Second Stranger	I tell you, denied, my lord.

LUCILIUS	What a strange case was that! now, before the gods,
	I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man!
	there was very little honour showed in't. For my own
	part, I must needs confess, I have received some
	small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels
	and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his;
	yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should
	ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents.

	[Enter SERVILIUS]

SERVILIUS	See, by good hap, yonder's my lord;
	I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,--

	[To LUCIUS]

LUCILIUS	Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well:
	commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very
	exquisite friend.

SERVILIUS	May it please your honour, my lord hath sent--

LUCILIUS	Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to
	that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank
	him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now?

SERVILIUS	Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord;
	requesting your lordship to supply his instant use
	with so many talents.

LUCILIUS	I know his lordship is but merry with me;
	He cannot want fifty five hundred talents.

SERVILIUS	But in the mean time he wants less, my lord.
	If his occasion were not virtuous,
	I should not urge it half so faithfully.

LUCILIUS	Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius?

SERVILIUS	Upon my soul,'tis true, sir.

LUCILIUS	What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself
	against such a good time, when I might ha' shown
	myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I
	should purchase the day before for a little part,
	and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now,
	before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more
	beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon
	myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would
	not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now.
	Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I
	hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me,
	because I have no power to be kind: and tell him
	this from me, I count it one of my greatest
	afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an
	honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you
	befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him?

SERVILIUS	Yes, sir, I shall.

LUCILIUS	I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius.

	[Exit SERVILIUS]

	True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed;
	And he that's once denied will hardly speed.

	[Exit]

First Stranger	Do you observe this, Hostilius?

Second Stranger	Ay, too well.

First Stranger	Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the
	same piece
	Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him
	His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in
	My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father,
	And kept his credit with his purse,
	Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money
	Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks,
	But Timon's silver treads upon his lip;
	And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man
	When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!--
	He does deny him, in respect of his,
	What charitable men afford to beggars.

Third Stranger	Religion groans at it.

First Stranger	For mine own part,
	I never tasted Timon in my life,
	Nor came any of his bounties over me,
	To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest,
	For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue
	And honourable carriage,
	Had his necessity made use of me,
	I would have put my wealth into donation,
	And the best half should have return'd to him,
	So much I love his heart: but, I perceive,
	Men must learn now with pity to dispense;
	For policy sits above conscience.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE III	A room in Sempronius' house.


	[Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's]

SEMPRONIUS	Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove
	all others?
	He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus;
	And now Ventidius is wealthy too,
	Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these
	Owe their estates unto him.

Servant	My lord,
	They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for
	They have au denied him.

SEMPRONIUS	How! have they denied him?
	Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him?
	And does he send to me? Three? hum!
	It shows but little love or judgment in him:
	Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like
	physicians,
	Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me?
	Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him,
	That might have known my place: I see no sense for't,
	But his occasion might have woo'd me first;
	For, in my conscience, I was the first man
	That e'er received gift from him:
	And does he think so backwardly of me now,
	That I'll requite its last? No:
	So it may prove an argument of laughter
	To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool.
	I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum,
	Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake;
	I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return,
	And with their faint reply this answer join;
	Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin.

	[Exit]

Servant	Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The
	devil knew not what he did when he made man
	politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot
	think but, in the end, the villainies of man will
	set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to
	appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked,
	like those that under hot ardent zeal would set
	whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his
	politic love.
	This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled,
	Save only the gods: now his friends are dead,
	Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards
	Many a bounteous year must be employ'd
	Now to guard sure their master.
	And this is all a liberal course allows;
	Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE IV	The same. A hall in Timon's house.


	[Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of
	LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other
	Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out]

Varro's
First Servant	Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius.

TITUS	The like to you kind Varro.

HORTENSIUS	Lucius!
	What, do we meet together?

Lucilius' Servant	Ay, and I think
	One business does command us all; for mine Is money.

TITUS	So is theirs and ours.

	[Enter PHILOTUS]

Lucilius' Servant	And Sir Philotus too!

PHILOTUS	Good day at once.

Lucilius' Servant	                  Welcome, good brother.
	What do you think the hour?

PHILOTUS	Labouring for nine.

Lucilius' Servant	So much?

PHILOTUS	Is not my lord seen yet?

Lucilius' Servant	Not yet.

PHILOTUS	I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven.

Lucilius' Servant	Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him:
	You must consider that a prodigal course
	Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable.
	I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse;
	That is one may reach deep enough, and yet
	Find little.

PHILOTUS	I am of your fear for that.

TITUS	I'll show you how to observe a strange event.
	Your lord sends now for money.

HORTENSIUS	Most true, he does.

TITUS	And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift,
	For which I wait for money.

HORTENSIUS	It is against my heart.

Lucilius' Servant	Mark, how strange it shows,
	Timon in this should pay more than he owes:
	And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels,
	And send for money for 'em.

HORTENSIUS	I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness:
	I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth,
	And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth.

Varro's
First Servant	Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours?

Lucilius' Servant	Five thousand mine.

Varro's
First Servant	'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun,
	Your master's confidence was above mine;
	Else, surely, his had equall'd.

	Enter FLAMINIUS.

TITUS	One of Lord Timon's men.

Lucilius' Servant	Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to
	come forth?

FLAMINIUS	No, indeed, he is not.

TITUS	We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much.

FLAMINIUS	I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent.

	[Exit]

	[Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled]

Lucilius' Servant	Ha! is not that his steward muffled so?
	He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him.

TITUS	Do you hear, sir?

Varro's
Second Servant	By your leave, sir,--

FLAVIUS	What do ye ask of me, my friend?

TITUS	We wait for certain money here, sir.

FLAVIUS	Ay,
	If money were as certain as your waiting,
	'Twere sure enough.
	Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills,
	When your false masters eat of my lord's meat?
	Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts
	And take down the interest into their
	gluttonous maws.
	You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up;
	Let me pass quietly:
	Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end;
	I have no more to reckon, he to spend.

Lucilius' Servant	Ay, but this answer will not serve.

FLAVIUS	If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you;
	For you serve knaves.

	[Exit]

Varro's
First Servant	How! what does his cashiered worship mutter?

Varro's
Second Servant	No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge
	enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no
	house to put his head in? such may rail against
	great buildings.

	[Enter SERVILIUS]

TITUS	O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer.

SERVILIUS	If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some
	other hour, I should derive much from't; for,
	take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to
	discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him;
	he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber.

Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick:
	And, if it be so far beyond his health,
	Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts,
	And make a clear way to the gods.

SERVILIUS	Good gods!

TITUS	We cannot take this for answer, sir.

FLAMINIUS	[Within]  Servilius, help! My lord! my lord!

	[Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following]

TIMON	What, are my doors opposed against my passage?
	Have I been ever free, and must my house
	Be my retentive enemy, my gaol?
	The place which I have feasted, does it now,
	Like all mankind, show me an iron heart?

Lucilius' Servant	Put in now, Titus.

TITUS	My lord, here is my bill.

Lucilius' Servant	Here's mine.

HORTENSIUS	And mine, my lord.

Both
Varro's Servants	And ours, my lord.

PHILOTUS	All our bills.

TIMON	Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle.

Lucilius' Servant	Alas, my lord,-

TIMON	Cut my heart in sums.

TITUS	Mine, fifty talents.

TIMON	Tell out my blood.

Lucilius' Servant	Five thousand crowns, my lord.

TIMON	Five thousand drops pays that.
	What yours?--and yours?

Varro's
First Servant	My lord,--

Varro's
Second Servant	My lord,--

TIMON	Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you!

	[Exit]

HORTENSIUS	'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps
	at their money: these debts may well be called
	desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em.

	[Exeunt]

	[Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS]

TIMON	They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves.
	Creditors? devils!

FLAVIUS	My dear lord,--

TIMON	What if it should be so?

FLAVIUS	My lord,--

TIMON	I'll have it so. My steward!

FLAVIUS	Here, my lord.

TIMON	So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again,
	Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius:
	All, sirrah, all:
	I'll once more feast the rascals.

FLAVIUS	O my lord,
	You only speak from your distracted soul;
	There is not so much left, to furnish out
	A moderate table.

TIMON	                  Be't not in thy care; go,
	I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide
	Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE V	The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting.


First Senator	My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's
	Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die:
	Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

Second Senator	Most true; the law shall bruise him.

	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants]

ALCIBIADES	Honour, health, and compassion to the senate!

First Senator	Now, captain?

ALCIBIADES	I am an humble suitor to your virtues;
	For pity is the virtue of the law,
	And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
	It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy
	Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood,
	Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth
	To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't.
	He is a man, setting his fate aside,
	Of comely virtues:
	Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice--
	An honour in him which buys out his fault--
	But with a noble fury and fair spirit,
	Seeing his reputation touch'd to death,
	He did oppose his foe:
	And with such sober and unnoted passion
	He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent,
	As if he had but proved an argument.

First Senator	You undergo too strict a paradox,
	Striving to make an ugly deed look fair:
	Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd
	To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling
	Upon the head of valour; which indeed
	Is valour misbegot and came into the world
	When sects and factions were newly born:
	He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer
	The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs
	His outsides, to wear them like his raiment,
	carelessly,
	And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart,
	To bring it into danger.
	If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill,
	What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill!

ALCIBIADES	My lord,--

First Senator	       You cannot make gross sins look clear:
	To revenge is no valour, but to bear.

ALCIBIADES	My lords, then, under favour, pardon me,
	If I speak like a captain.
	Why do fond men expose themselves to battle,
	And not endure all threats? sleep upon't,
	And let the foes quietly cut their throats,
	Without repugnancy? If there be
	Such valour in the bearing, what make we
	Abroad? why then, women are more valiant
	That stay at home, if bearing carry it,
	And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon
	Loaden with irons wiser than the judge,
	If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords,
	As you are great, be pitifully good:
	Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood?
	To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust;
	But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just.
	To be in anger is impiety;
	But who is man that is not angry?
	Weigh but the crime with this.

Second Senator	You breathe in vain.

ALCIBIADES	In vain! his service done
	At Lacedaemon and Byzantium
	Were a sufficient briber for his life.

First Senator	What's that?

ALCIBIADES	I say, my lords, he has done fair service,
	And slain in fight many of your enemies:
	How full of valour did he bear himself
	In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds!

Second Senator	He has made too much plenty with 'em;
	He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often
	Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner:
	If there were no foes, that were enough
	To overcome him: in that beastly fury
	He has been known to commit outrages,
	And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us,
	His days are foul and his drink dangerous.

First Senator	He dies.

ALCIBIADES	Hard fate! he might have died in war.
	My lords, if not for any parts in him--
	Though his right arm might purchase his own time
	And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you,
	Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both:
	And, for I know your reverend ages love
	Security, I'll pawn my victories, all
	My honours to you, upon his good returns.
	If by this crime he owes the law his life,
	Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore
	For law is strict, and war is nothing more.

First Senator	We are for law: he dies; urge it no more,
	On height of our displeasure: friend or brother,
	He forfeits his own blood that spills another.

ALCIBIADES	Must it be so? it must not be. My lords,
	I do beseech you, know me.

Second Senator	How!

ALCIBIADES	Call me to your remembrances.

Third Senator	What!

ALCIBIADES	I cannot think but your age has forgot me;
	It could not else be, I should prove so base,
	To sue, and be denied such common grace:
	My wounds ache at you.

First Senator	Do you dare our anger?
	'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect;
	We banish thee for ever.

ALCIBIADES	Banish me!
	Banish your dotage; banish usury,
	That makes the senate ugly.

First Senator	If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee,
	Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell
	our spirit,
	He shall be executed presently.

	[Exeunt Senators]

ALCIBIADES	Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live
	Only in bone, that none may look on you!
	I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes,
	While they have told their money and let out
	Their coin upon large interest, I myself
	Rich only in large hurts. All those for this?
	Is this the balsam that the usuring senate
	Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment!
	It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd;
	It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury,
	That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up
	My discontented troops, and lay for hearts.
	'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds;
	Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods.

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT III



SCENE VI	The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house.


	[Music. Tables set out: Servants attending.
	Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at
	several doors]

First Lord	The good time of day to you, sir.

Second Lord	I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord
	did but try us this other day.

First Lord	Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we
	encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as
	he made it seem in the trial of his several friends.

Second Lord	It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting.

First Lord	I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest
	inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me
	to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and
	I must needs appear.

Second Lord	In like manner was I in debt to my importunate
	business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am
	sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my
	provision was out.

First Lord	I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all
	things go.

Second Lord	Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of
	you?

First Lord	A thousand pieces.

Second Lord	A thousand pieces!

First Lord	What of you?

Second Lord	He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes.

	[Enter TIMON and Attendants]

TIMON	With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?

First Lord	Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship.

Second Lord	The swallow follows not summer more willing than we
	your lordship.

TIMON	[Aside]  Nor more willingly leaves winter; such
	summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not
	recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the
	music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the
	trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently.

First Lord	I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship
	that I returned you an empty messenger.

TIMON	O, sir, let it not trouble you.

Second Lord	My noble lord,--

TIMON	Ah, my good friend, what cheer?

Second Lord	My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame,
	that, when your lordship this other day sent to me,
	I was so unfortunate a beggar.

TIMON	Think not on 't, sir.

Second Lord	If you had sent but two hours before,--

TIMON	Let it not cumber your better remembrance.

	[The banquet brought in]

	Come, bring in all together.

Second Lord	All covered dishes!

First Lord	Royal cheer, I warrant you.

Third Lord	Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield
	it.

First Lord	How do you? What's the news?

Third Lord	Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it?


First Lord	|
	|  Alcibiades banished!
Second Lord	|


Third Lord	'Tis so, be sure of it.

First Lord	How! how!

Second Lord	I pray you, upon what?

TIMON	My worthy friends, will you draw near?

Third Lord	I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.

Second Lord	This is the old man still.

Third Lord	Will 't hold? will 't hold?

Second Lord	It does: but time will--and so--

Third Lord	I do conceive.

TIMON	Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to
	the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all
	places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let
	the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place:
	sit, sit. The gods require our thanks.

	You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with
	thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves
	praised: but reserve still to give, lest your
	deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that
	one need not lend to another; for, were your
	godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the
	gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man
	that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without
	a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at
	the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The
	rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens,
	together with the common lag of people--what is
	amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for
	destruction. For these my present friends, as they
	are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to
	nothing are they welcome.

	Uncover, dogs, and lap.

	[The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of
	warm water]

Some Speak	What does his lordship mean?

Some Others	I know not.

TIMON	May you a better feast never behold,
	You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water
	Is your perfection. This is Timon's last;
	Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries,
	Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces
	Your reeking villany.

	[Throwing the water in their faces]

		Live loathed and long,
	Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites,
	Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears,
	You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies,
	Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks!
	Of man and beast the infinite malady
	Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go?
	Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;--
	Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none.

	[Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out]

	What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast,
	Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest.
	Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be
	Of Timon man and all humanity!

	[Exit]

	[Re-enter the Lords, Senators, &c]

First Lord	How now, my lords!

Second Lord	Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury?

Third Lord	Push! did you see my cap?

Fourth Lord	I have lost my gown.

First Lord	He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him.
	He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has
	beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel?

Third Lord	Did you see my cap?

Second Lord	Here 'tis.

Fourth Lord	Here lies my gown.

First Lord	Let's make no stay.

Second Lord	Lord Timon's mad.

Third Lord	I feel 't upon my bones.

Fourth Lord	One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT IV



SCENE I	Without the walls of Athens.


	[Enter TIMON]

TIMON	Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall,
	That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth,
	And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent!
	Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools,
	Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench,
	And minister in their steads! to general filths
	Convert o' the instant, green virginity,
	Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast;
	Rather than render back, out with your knives,
	And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal!
	Large-handed robbers your grave masters are,
	And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed;
	Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen,
	pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire,
	With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear,
	Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth,
	Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood,
	Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades,
	Degrees, observances, customs, and laws,
	Decline to your confounding contraries,
	And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men,
	Your potent and infectious fevers heap
	On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica,
	Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt
	As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty
	Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth,
	That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive,
	And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains,
	Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop
	Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath,
	at their society, as their friendship, may
	merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee,
	But nakedness, thou detestable town!
	Take thou that too, with multiplying bans!
	Timon will to the woods; where he shall find
	The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind.
	The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all--
	The Athenians both within and out that wall!
	And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow
	To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen.

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT IV



SCENE II	Athens. A room in Timon's house.


	[Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants]

First Servant	Hear you, master steward, where's our master?
	Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining?

FLAVIUS	Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you?
	Let me be recorded by the righteous gods,
	I am as poor as you.

First Servant	Such a house broke!
	So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not
	One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
	And go along with him!

Second Servant	As we do turn our backs
	From our companion thrown into his grave,
	So his familiars to his buried fortunes
	Slink all away, leave their false vows with him,
	Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self,
	A dedicated beggar to the air,
	With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty,
	Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows.

	[Enter other Servants]

FLAVIUS	All broken implements of a ruin'd house.

Third Servant	Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery;
	That see I by our faces; we are fellows still,
	Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark,
	And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck,
	Hearing the surges threat: we must all part
	Into this sea of air.

FLAVIUS	Good fellows all,
	The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you.
	Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake,
	Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say,
	As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes,
	'We have seen better days.' Let each take some;
	Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more:
	Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor.

	[Servants embrace, and part several ways]

	O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
	Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
	Since riches point to misery and contempt?
	Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live
	But in a dream of friendship?
	To have his pomp and all what state compounds
	But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?
	Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,
	Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,
	When man's worst sin is, he does too much good!
	Who, then, dares to be half so kind again?
	For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.
	My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,
	Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes
	Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord!
	He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat
	Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to
	Supply his life, or that which can command it.
	I'll follow and inquire him out:
	I'll ever serve his mind with my best will;
	Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still.

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT IV



SCENE III	Woods and cave, near the seashore.


	[Enter TIMON, from the cave]

	O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth
	Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb
	Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb,
	Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
	Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes;
	The greater scorns the lesser: not nature,
	To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune,
	But by contempt of nature.
	Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord;
	The senator shall bear contempt hereditary,
	The beggar native honour.
	It is the pasture lards the rother's sides,
	The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares,
	In purity of manhood stand upright,
	And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be,
	So are they all; for every grise of fortune
	Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate
	Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique;
	There's nothing level in our cursed natures,
	But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd
	All feasts, societies, and throngs of men!
	His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains:
	Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots!

	[Digging]

	Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate
	With thy most operant poison! What is here?
	Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods,
	I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens!
	Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair,
	Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant.
	Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this
	Will lug your priests and servants from your sides,
	Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads:
	This yellow slave
	Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed,
	Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves
	And give them title, knee and approbation
	With senators on the bench: this is it
	That makes the wappen'd widow wed again;
	She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores
	Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices
	To the April day again. Come, damned earth,
	Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds
	Among the route of nations, I will make thee
	Do thy right nature.

	[March afar off]

		Ha! a drum? Thou'rt quick,
	But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief,
	When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand.
	Nay, stay thou out for earnest.

	[Keeping some gold]

	[Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in
	warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA]

ALCIBIADES	What art thou there? speak.

TIMON	A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart,
	For showing me again the eyes of man!

ALCIBIADES	What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee,
	That art thyself a man?

TIMON	I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind.
	For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
	That I might love thee something.

ALCIBIADES	I know thee well;
	But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange.

TIMON	I know thee too; and more than that I know thee,
	I not desire to know. Follow thy drum;
	With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules:
	Religious canons, civil laws are cruel;
	Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine
	Hath in her more destruction than thy sword,
	For all her cherubim look.

PHRYNIA	Thy lips rot off!

TIMON	I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns
	To thine own lips again.

ALCIBIADES	How came the noble Timon to this change?

TIMON	As the moon does, by wanting light to give:
	But then renew I could not, like the moon;
	There were no suns to borrow of.

ALCIBIADES	Noble Timon,
	What friendship may I do thee?

TIMON	None, but to
	Maintain my opinion.

ALCIBIADES	What is it, Timon?

TIMON	Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou
	wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art
	a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for
	thou art a man!

ALCIBIADES	I have heard in some sort of thy miseries.

TIMON	Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity.

ALCIBIADES	I see them now; then was a blessed time.

TIMON	As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots.

TIMANDRA	Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world
	Voiced so regardfully?

TIMON	Art thou Timandra?

TIMANDRA	Yes.

TIMON	Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee;
	Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust.
	Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves
	For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth
	To the tub-fast and the diet.

TIMANDRA	Hang thee, monster!

ALCIBIADES	Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits
	Are drown'd and lost in his calamities.
	I have but little gold of late, brave Timon,
	The want whereof doth daily make revolt
	In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved,
	How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth,
	Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states,
	But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,--

TIMON	I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone.

ALCIBIADES	I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon.

TIMON	How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble?
	I had rather be alone.

ALCIBIADES	Why, fare thee well:
	Here is some gold for thee.

TIMON	Keep it, I cannot eat it.

ALCIBIADES	When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,--

TIMON	Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens?

ALCIBIADES	Ay, Timon, and have cause.

TIMON	The gods confound them all in thy conquest;
	And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd!

ALCIBIADES	Why me, Timon?

TIMON	                  That, by killing of villains,
	Thou wast born to conquer my country.
	Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on;
	Be as a planetary plague, when Jove
	Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison
	In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one:
	Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;
	He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;
	It is her habit only that is honest,
	Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek
	Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
	That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
	Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
	But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,
	Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
	Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
	Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
	And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;
	Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;
	Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
	Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
	Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:
	Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
	Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

ALCIBIADES	Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou
	givest me,
	Not all thy counsel.

TIMON	Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse
	upon thee!


PHRYNIA	|
	|  Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more?
TIMANDRA	|


TIMON	Enough to make a whore forswear her trade,
	And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts,
	Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable,
	Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear
	Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues
	The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths,
	I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still;
	And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you,
	Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up;
	Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
	And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months,
	Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs
	With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd,
	No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still;
	Paint till a horse may mire upon your face,
	A pox of wrinkles!


PHRYNIA	|
	|  Well, more gold: what then?
TIMANDRA	|   Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold.


TIMON	Consumptions sow
	In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins,
	And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice,
	That he may never more false title plead,
	Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen,
	That scolds against the quality of flesh,
	And not believes himself: down with the nose,
	Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away
	Of him that, his particular to foresee,
	Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate
	ruffians bald;
	And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war
	Derive some pain from you: plague all;
	That your activity may defeat and quell
	The source of all erection. There's more gold:
	Do you damn others, and let this damn you,
	And ditches grave you all!


PHRYNIA	|
	|  More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.
TIMANDRA	|


TIMON	More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest.

ALCIBIADES	Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon:
	If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again.

TIMON	If I hope well, I'll never see thee more.

ALCIBIADES	I never did thee harm.

TIMON	Yes, thou spokest well of me.

ALCIBIADES	Call'st thou that harm?

TIMON	Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take
	Thy beagles with thee.

ALCIBIADES	We but offend him. Strike!

	[Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA,
	and TIMANDRA]

TIMON	That nature, being sick of man's unkindness,
	Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou,

	[Digging]

	Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast,
	Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle,
	Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd,
	Engenders the black toad and adder blue,
	The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm,
	With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven
	Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine;
	Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate,
	From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root!
	Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb,
	Let it no more bring out ingrateful man!
	Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears;
	Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face
	Hath to the marbled mansion all above
	Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!--
	Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas;
	Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts
	And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind,
	That from it all consideration slips!

	[Enter APEMANTUS]

	More man? plague, plague!

APEMANTUS	I was directed hither: men report
	Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them.

TIMON	'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog,
	Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee!

APEMANTUS	This is in thee a nature but infected;
	A poor unmanly melancholy sprung
	From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place?
	This slave-like habit? and these looks of care?
	Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft;
	Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot
	That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods,
	By putting on the cunning of a carper.
	Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive
	By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee,
	And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe,
	Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain,
	And call it excellent: thou wast told thus;
	Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome
	To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just
	That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again,
	Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness.

TIMON	Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself.

APEMANTUS	Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself;
	A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st
	That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain,
	Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees,
	That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels,
	And skip where thou point'st out? will the
	cold brook,
	Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste,
	To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures
	Whose naked natures live in an the spite
	Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks,
	To the conflicting elements exposed,
	Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee;
	O, thou shalt find--

TIMON	A fool of thee: depart.

APEMANTUS	I love thee better now than e'er I did.

TIMON	I hate thee worse.

APEMANTUS	                  Why?

TIMON	Thou flatter'st misery.

APEMANTUS	I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff.

TIMON	Why dost thou seek me out?

APEMANTUS	To vex thee.

TIMON	Always a villain's office or a fool's.
	Dost please thyself in't?

APEMANTUS	Ay.

TIMON	What! a knave too?

APEMANTUS	If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on
	To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
	Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again,
	Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery
	Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before:
	The one is filling still, never complete;
	The other, at high wish: best state, contentless,
	Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
	Worse than the worst, content.
	Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable.

TIMON	Not by his breath that is more miserable.
	Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm
	With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
	Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded
	The sweet degrees that this brief world affords
	To such as may the passive drugs of it
	Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself
	In general riot; melted down thy youth
	In different beds of lust; and never learn'd
	The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd
	The sugar'd game before thee. But myself,
	Who had the world as my confectionary,
	The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men
	At duty, more than I could frame employment,
	That numberless upon me stuck as leaves
	Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush
	Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare
	For every storm that blows: I, to bear this,
	That never knew but better, is some burden:
	Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time
	Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men?
	They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given?
	If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag,
	Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff
	To some she beggar and compounded thee
	Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone!
	If thou hadst not been born the worst of men,
	Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer.

APEMANTUS	Art thou proud yet?

TIMON	Ay, that I am not thee.

APEMANTUS	I, that I was
	No prodigal.

TIMON	                  I, that I am one now:
	Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee,
	I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone.
	That the whole life of Athens were in this!
	Thus would I eat it.

	[Eating a root]

APEMANTUS	Here; I will mend thy feast.

	[Offering him a root]

TIMON	First mend my company, take away thyself.

APEMANTUS	So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine.

TIMON	'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd;
	if not, I would it were.

APEMANTUS	What wouldst thou have to Athens?

TIMON	Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt,
	Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have.

APEMANTUS	Here is no use for gold.

TIMON	The best and truest;
	For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm.

APEMANTUS	Where liest o' nights, Timon?

TIMON	Under that's above me.
	Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?

APEMANTUS	Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat
	it.

TIMON	Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!

APEMANTUS	Where wouldst thou send it?

TIMON	To sauce thy dishes.

APEMANTUS	The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the
	extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt
	and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much
	curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art
	despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for
	thee, eat it.

TIMON	On what I hate I feed not.

APEMANTUS	Dost hate a medlar?

TIMON	Ay, though it look like thee.

APEMANTUS	An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst
	have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou
	ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means?

TIMON	Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou
	ever know beloved?

APEMANTUS	Myself.

TIMON	I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a
	dog.

APEMANTUS	What things in the world canst thou nearest compare
	to thy flatterers?

TIMON	Women nearest; but men, men are the things
	themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world,
	Apemantus, if it lay in thy power?

APEMANTUS	Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men.

TIMON	Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of
	men, and remain a beast with the beasts?

APEMANTUS	Ay, Timon.

TIMON	A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t'
	attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would
	beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would
	eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would
	suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by
	the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would
	torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a
	breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy
	greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst
	hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the
	unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and
	make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert
	thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse:
	wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the
	leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to
	the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on
	thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy
	defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that
	were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art
	thou already, that seest not thy loss in
	transformation!

APEMANTUS	If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou
	mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of
	Athens is become a forest of beasts.

TIMON	How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city?

APEMANTUS	Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of
	company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it
	and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll
	see thee again.

TIMON	When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be
	welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus.

APEMANTUS	Thou art the cap of all the fools alive.

TIMON	Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!

APEMANTUS	A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse.

TIMON	All villains that do stand by thee are pure.

APEMANTUS	There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st.

TIMON	If I name thee.
	I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands.

APEMANTUS	I would my tongue could rot them off!

TIMON	Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!
	Choler does kill me that thou art alive;
	I swound to see thee.

APEMANTUS	Would thou wouldst burst!

TIMON	Away,
	Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose
	A stone by thee.

	[Throws a stone at him]

APEMANTUS	                  Beast!

TIMON	Slave!

APEMANTUS	Toad!

TIMON	Rogue, rogue, rogue!
	I am sick of this false world, and will love nought
	But even the mere necessities upon 't.
	Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
	Lie where the light foam the sea may beat
	Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph,
	That death in me at others' lives may laugh.

	[To the gold]

	O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce
	'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler
	Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars!
	Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer,
	Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
	That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god,
	That solder'st close impossibilities,
	And makest them kiss! that speak'st with
	every tongue,
	To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts!
	Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue
	Set them into confounding odds, that beasts
	May have the world in empire!

APEMANTUS	Would 'twere so!
	But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold:
	Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly.

TIMON	Throng'd to!

APEMANTUS	Ay.

TIMON	Thy back, I prithee.

APEMANTUS	Live, and love thy misery.

TIMON	Long live so, and so die.

	[Exit APEMANTUS]

		    I am quit.
	Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.

	[Enter Banditti]

First Bandit	Where should he have this gold? It is some poor
	fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the
	mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his
	friends, drove him into this melancholy.

Second Bandit	It is noised he hath a mass of treasure.

Third Bandit	Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not
	for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously
	reserve it, how shall's get it?

Second Bandit	True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid.

First Bandit	Is not this he?

Banditti	Where?

Second Bandit	'Tis his description.

Third Bandit	He; I know him.

Banditti	Save thee, Timon.

TIMON	Now, thieves?

Banditti	Soldiers, not thieves.

TIMON	Both too; and women's sons.

Banditti	We are not thieves, but men that much do want.

TIMON	Your greatest want is, you want much of meat.
	Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots;
	Within this mile break forth a hundred springs;
	The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips;
	The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush
	Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want?

First Bandit	We cannot live on grass, on berries, water,
	As beasts and birds and fishes.

TIMON	Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes;
	You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con
	That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not
	In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft
	In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
	Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape,
	Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth,
	And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician;
	His antidotes are poison, and he slays
	Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together;
	Do villany, do, since you protest to do't,
	Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery.
	The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
	Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief,
	And her pale fire she snatches from the sun:
	The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves
	The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief,
	That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen
	From general excrement: each thing's a thief:
	The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
	Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away,
	Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats:
	All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go,
	Break open shops; nothing can you steal,
	But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this
	I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen.

Third Bandit	Has almost charmed me from my profession, by
	persuading me to it.

First Bandit	'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises
	us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

Second Bandit	I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade.

First Bandit	Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time
	so miserable but a man may be true.

	[Exeunt Banditti]

	[Enter FLAVIUS]

FLAVIUS	O you gods!
	Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord?
	Full of decay and failing? O monument
	And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
	What an alteration of honour
	Has desperate want made!
	What viler thing upon the earth than friends
	Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends!
	How rarely does it meet with this time's guise,
	When man was wish'd to love his enemies!
	Grant I may ever love, and rather woo
	Those that would mischief me than those that do!
	Has caught me in his eye: I will present
	My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord,
	Still serve him with my life. My dearest master!

TIMON	Away! what art thou?

FLAVIUS	Have you forgot me, sir?

TIMON	Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men;
	Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee.

FLAVIUS	An honest poor servant of yours.

TIMON	Then I know thee not:
	I never had honest man about me, I; all
	I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains.

FLAVIUS	The gods are witness,
	Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief
	For his undone lord than mine eyes for you.

TIMON	What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I
	love thee,
	Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
	Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give
	But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping:
	Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!

FLAVIUS	I beg of you to know me, good my lord,
	To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts
	To entertain me as your steward still.

TIMON	Had I a steward
	So true, so just, and now so comfortable?
	It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
	Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man
	Was born of woman.
	Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,
	You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim
	One honest man--mistake me not--but one;
	No more, I pray,--and he's a steward.
	How fain would I have hated all mankind!
	And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee,
	I fell with curses.
	Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;
	For, by oppressing and betraying me,
	Thou mightst have sooner got another service:
	For many so arrive at second masters,
	Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true--
	For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure--
	Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,
	If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,
	Expecting in return twenty for one?

FLAVIUS	No, my most worthy master; in whose breast
	Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late:
	You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:
	Suspect still comes where an estate is least.
	That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,
	Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,
	Care of your food and living; and, believe it,
	My most honour'd lord,
	For any benefit that points to me,
	Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange
	For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
	To requite me, by making rich yourself.

TIMON	Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,
	Here, take: the gods out of my misery
	Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy;
	But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men;
	Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,
	But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,
	Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs
	What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em,
	Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like
	blasted woods,
	And may diseases lick up their false bloods!
	And so farewell and thrive.

FLAVIUS	O, let me stay,
	And comfort you, my master.

TIMON	If thou hatest curses,
	Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free:
	Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.

	[Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT V



SCENE I	The woods. Before Timon's cave.


	[Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching
	them from his cave]

Painter	As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where
	he abides.

Poet	What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold
	for true, that he's so full of gold?

Painter	Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and
	Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor
	straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said
	he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

Poet	Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.

Painter	Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens
	again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore
	'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this
	supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in
	us; and is very likely to load our purposes with
	what they travail for, if it be a just true report
	that goes of his having.

Poet	What have you now to present unto him?

Painter	Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will
	promise him an excellent piece.

Poet	I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent
	that's coming toward him.

Painter	Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the
	time: it opens the eyes of expectation:
	performance is ever the duller for his act; and,
	but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the
	deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is
	most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind
	of will or testament which argues a great sickness
	in his judgment that makes it.

	[TIMON comes from his cave, behind]

TIMON	[Aside]  Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a
	man so bad as is thyself.

Poet	I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for
	him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire
	against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery
	of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

TIMON	[Aside]  Must thou needs stand for a villain in
	thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in
	other men? Do so, I have gold for thee.

Poet	Nay, let's seek him:
	Then do we sin against our own estate,
	When we may profit meet, and come too late.

Painter	True;
	When the day serves, before black-corner'd night,
	Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come.

TIMON	[Aside]  I'll meet you at the turn. What a
	god's gold,
	That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple
	Than where swine feed!
	'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam,
	Settlest admired reverence in a slave:
	To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye
	Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey!
	Fit I meet them.

	[Coming forward]

Poet	Hail, worthy Timon!

Painter	Our late noble master!

TIMON	Have I once lived to see two honest men?

Poet	Sir,
	Having often of your open bounty tasted,
	Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off,
	Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!--
	Not all the whips of heaven are large enough:
	What! to you,
	Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence
	To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover
	The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude
	With any size of words.

TIMON	Let it go naked, men may see't the better:
	You that are honest, by being what you are,
	Make them best seen and known.

Painter	He and myself
	Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts,
	And sweetly felt it.

TIMON	Ay, you are honest men.

Painter	We are hither come to offer you our service.

TIMON	Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you?
	Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no.

Both	What we can do, we'll do, to do you service.

TIMON	Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold;
	I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men.

Painter	So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore
	Came not my friend nor I.

TIMON	Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit
	Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best;
	Thou counterfeit'st most lively.

Painter	So, so, my lord.

TIMON	E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction,
	Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth
	That thou art even natural in thine art.
	But, for all this, my honest-natured friends,
	I must needs say you have a little fault:
	Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
	You take much pains to mend.

Both	Beseech your honour
	To make it known to us.

TIMON	You'll take it ill.

Both	Most thankfully, my lord.

TIMON	Will you, indeed?

Both	Doubt it not, worthy lord.

TIMON	There's never a one of you but trusts a knave,
	That mightily deceives you.

Both	Do we, my lord?

TIMON	Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,
	Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
	Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured
	That he's a made-up villain.

Painter	I know none such, my lord.

Poet	Nor I.

TIMON	Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,
	Rid me these villains from your companies:
	Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught,
	Confound them by some course, and come to me,
	I'll give you gold enough.

Both	Name them, my lord, let's know them.

TIMON	You that way and you this, but two in company;
	Each man apart, all single and alone,
	Yet an arch-villain keeps him company.
	If where thou art two villains shall not be,
	Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside
	But where one villain is, then him abandon.
	Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves:

	[To Painter]

	You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence!

	[To Poet]

	You are an alchemist; make gold of that.
	Out, rascal dogs!

	[Beats them out, and then retires to his cave]

	[Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators]

FLAVIUS	It is in vain that you would speak with Timon;
	For he is set so only to himself
	That nothing but himself which looks like man
	Is friendly with him.

First Senator	Bring us to his cave:
	It is our part and promise to the Athenians
	To speak with Timon.

Second Senator	At all times alike
	Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs
	That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand,
	Offering the fortunes of his former days,
	The former man may make him. Bring us to him,
	And chance it as it may.

FLAVIUS	Here is his cave.
	Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon!
	Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians,
	By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee:
	Speak to them, noble Timon.

	[TIMON comes from his cave]

TIMON	Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and
	be hang'd:
	For each true word, a blister! and each false
	Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue,
	Consuming it with speaking!

First Senator	Worthy Timon,--

TIMON	Of none but such as you, and you of Timon.

First Senator	The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon.

TIMON	I thank them; and would send them back the plague,
	Could I but catch it for them.

First Senator	O, forget
	What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
	The senators with one consent of love
	Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought
	On special dignities, which vacant lie
	For thy best use and wearing.

Second Senator	They confess
	Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross:
	Which now the public body, which doth seldom
	Play the recanter, feeling in itself
	A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
	Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon;
	And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render,
	Together with a recompense more fruitful
	Than their offence can weigh down by the dram;
	Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth
	As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs
	And write in thee the figures of their love,
	Ever to read them thine.

TIMON	You witch me in it;
	Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
	Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes,
	And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators.

First Senator	Therefore, so please thee to return with us
	And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take
	The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks,
	Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name
	Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back
	Of Alcibiades the approaches wild,
	Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
	His country's peace.

Second Senator	And shakes his threatening sword
	Against the walls of Athens.

First Senator	Therefore, Timon,--

TIMON	Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus:
	If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,
	Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
	That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens,
	And take our goodly aged men by the beards,
	Giving our holy virgins to the stain
	Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war,
	Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it,
	In pity of our aged and our youth,
	I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not,
	And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not,
	While you have throats to answer: for myself,
	There's not a whittle in the unruly camp
	But I do prize it at my love before
	The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you
	To the protection of the prosperous gods,
	As thieves to keepers.

FLAVIUS	Stay not, all's in vain.

TIMON	Why, I was writing of my epitaph;
	it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness
	Of health and living now begins to mend,
	And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still;
	Be Alcibiades your plague, you his,
	And last so long enough!

First Senator	We speak in vain.

TIMON	But yet I love my country, and am not
	One that rejoices in the common wreck,
	As common bruit doth put it.

First Senator	That's well spoke.

TIMON	Commend me to my loving countrymen,--

First Senator	These words become your lips as they pass
	thorough them.

Second Senator	And enter in our ears like great triumphers
	In their applauding gates.

TIMON	Commend me to them,
	And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs,
	Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,
	Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
	That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
	In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them:
	I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

First Senator	I like this well; he will return again.

TIMON	I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
	That mine own use invites me to cut down,
	And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,
	Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
	From high to low throughout, that whoso please
	To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
	Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
	And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting.

FLAVIUS	Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him.

TIMON	Come not to me again: but say to Athens,
	Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
	Upon the beached verge of the salt flood;
	Who once a day with his embossed froth
	The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come,
	And let my grave-stone be your oracle.
	Lips, let sour words go by and language end:
	What is amiss plague and infection mend!
	Graves only be men's works and death their gain!
	Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign.

	[Retires to his cave]

First Senator	His discontents are unremoveably
	Coupled to nature.

Second Senator	Our hope in him is dead: let us return,
	And strain what other means is left unto us
	In our dear peril.

First Senator	                  It requires swift foot.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT V



SCENE II	Before the walls of Athens.


	[Enter two Senators and a Messenger]

First Senator	Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files
	As full as thy report?

Messenger	have spoke the least:
	Besides, his expedition promises
	Present approach.

Second Senator	We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Messenger	I met a courier, one mine ancient friend;
	Whom, though in general part we were opposed,
	Yet our old love made a particular force,
	And made us speak like friends: this man was riding
	From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
	With letters of entreaty, which imported
	His fellowship i' the cause against your city,
	In part for his sake moved.

First Senator	Here come our brothers.

	[Enter the Senators from TIMON]

Third Senator	No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.
	The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring
	Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare:
	Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare.

	[Exeunt]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT V



SCENE III	The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen.


	[Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON]

Soldier	By all description this should be the place.
	Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this?
	Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span:
	Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man.
	Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb
	I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax:
	Our captain hath in every figure skill,
	An aged interpreter, though young in days:
	Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
	Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.

	[Exit]




	TIMON OF ATHENS


ACT V



SCENE IV	Before the walls of Athens.


	[Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers]

ALCIBIADES	Sound to this coward and lascivious town
	Our terrible approach.

	[A parley sounded]

	[Enter Senators on the walls]

	Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time
	With all licentious measure, making your wills
	The scope of justice; till now myself and such
	As slept within the shadow of your power
	Have wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed
	Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush,
	When crouching marrow in the bearer strong
	Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong
	Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease,
	And pursy insolence shall break his wind
	With fear and horrid flight.

First Senator	Noble and young,
	When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
	Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear,
	We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm,
	To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
	Above their quantity.

Second Senator	So did we woo
	Transformed Timon to our city's love
	By humble message and by promised means:
	We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
	The common stroke of war.

First Senator	These walls of ours
	Were not erected by their hands from whom
	You have received your griefs; nor are they such
	That these great towers, trophies and schools
	should fall
	For private faults in them.

Second Senator	Nor are they living
	Who were the motives that you first went out;
	Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess
	Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
	Into our city with thy banners spread:
	By decimation, and a tithed death--
	If thy revenges hunger for that food
	Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth,
	And by the hazard of the spotted die
	Let die the spotted.

First Senator	All have not offended;
	For those that were, it is not square to take
	On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands,
	Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
	Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage:
	Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin
	Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall
	With those that have offended: like a shepherd,
	Approach the fold and cull the infected forth,
	But kill not all together.

Second Senator	What thou wilt,
	Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile
	Than hew to't with thy sword.

First Senator 	Set but thy foot
	Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope;
	So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
	To say thou'lt enter friendly.

Second Senator	Throw thy glove,
	Or any token of thine honour else,
	That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
	And not as our confusion, all thy powers
	Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
	Have seal'd thy full desire.

ALCIBIADES	Then there's my glove;
	Descend, and open your uncharged ports:
	Those enemies of Timon's and mine own
	Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof
	Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears
	With my more noble meaning, not a man
	Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
	Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
	But shall be render'd to your public laws
	At heaviest answer.

Both	'Tis most nobly spoken.

ALCIBIADES	Descend, and keep your words.

	[The Senators descend, and open the gates]

	[Enter Soldier]

Soldier	My noble general, Timon is dead;
	Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea;
	And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which
	With wax I brought away, whose soft impression
	Interprets for my poor ignorance.

ALCIBIADES	[Reads the epitaph]  'Here lies a
	wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:
	Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked
	caitiffs left!
	Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate:
	Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay
	not here thy gait.'
	These well express in thee thy latter spirits:
	Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs,
	Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our
	droplets which
	From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit
	Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye
	On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
	Is noble Timon: of whose memory
	Hereafter more. Bring me into your city,
	And I will use the olive with my sword,
	Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each
	Prescribe to other as each other's leech.
	Let our drums strike.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


	DRAMATIS PERSONAE


LEAR	king of Britain  (KING LEAR:)

KING OF FRANCE:

DUKE OF BURGUNDY	(BURGUNDY:)

DUKE OF CORNWALL	(CORNWALL:)

DUKE OF ALBANY	(ALBANY:)

EARL OF KENT	(KENT:)

EARL OF GLOUCESTER	(GLOUCESTER:)

EDGAR	son to Gloucester.

EDMUND	bastard son to Gloucester.

CURAN	a courtier.

Old Man	tenant to Gloucester.

Doctor:

Fool:

OSWALD	steward to Goneril.

	A Captain employed by Edmund. (Captain:)

	Gentleman attendant on Cordelia. (Gentleman:)
	A Herald.

	Servants to Cornwall.
	(First Servant:)
	(Second Servant:)
	(Third Servant:)


GONERIL	|
	|
REGAN	|  daughters to Lear.
	|
CORDELIA	|


	Knights of Lear's train, Captains, Messengers,
	Soldiers, and Attendants
	(Knight:)
	(Captain:)
	(Messenger:)



SCENE	Britain.




	KING LEAR


ACT I



SCENE I	King Lear's palace.


	[Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND]

KENT	I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
	Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER	It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
	division of the kingdom, it appears not which of
	the dukes he values most; for equalities are so
	weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
	of either's moiety.

KENT	Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER	His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
	so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
	brazed to it.

KENT	I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER	Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
	she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son
	for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.
	Do you smell a fault?

KENT	I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
	being so proper.

GLOUCESTER	But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
	elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
	though this knave came something saucily into the
	world before he was sent for, yet was his mother
	fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
	whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this
	noble gentleman, Edmund?

EDMUND	No, my lord.

GLOUCESTER	My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
	honourable friend.

EDMUND	My services to your lordship.

KENT	I must love you, and sue to know you better.

EDMUND	Sir, I shall study deserving.

GLOUCESTER	He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
	again. The king is coming.

	[Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY,
	GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants]

KING LEAR	Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER	I shall, my liege.

	[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND]

KING LEAR	Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
	Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
	In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
	To shake all cares and business from our age;
	Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
	Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
	And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
	We have this hour a constant will to publish
	Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
	May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
	Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
	Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
	And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,--
	Since now we will divest us both of rule,
	Interest of territory, cares of state,--
	Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
	That we our largest bounty may extend
	Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
	Our eldest-born, speak first.

GONERIL	Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
	Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
	Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
	No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
	As much as child e'er loved, or father found;
	A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
	Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

CORDELIA	[Aside]  What shall Cordelia do?
	Love, and be silent.

LEAR	Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
	With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
	With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
	We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue
	Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
	Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

REGAN	Sir, I am made
	Of the self-same metal that my sister is,
	And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
	I find she names my very deed of love;
	Only she comes too short: that I profess
	Myself an enemy to all other joys,
	Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
	And find I am alone felicitate
	In your dear highness' love.

CORDELIA	[Aside]	Then poor Cordelia!
	And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
	More richer than my tongue.

KING LEAR	To thee and thine hereditary ever
	Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
	No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
	Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,
	Although the last, not least; to whose young love
	The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
	Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
	A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

CORDELIA	Nothing, my lord.

KING LEAR	Nothing!

CORDELIA	Nothing.

KING LEAR	Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.

CORDELIA	Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
	My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
	According to my bond; nor more nor less.

KING LEAR	How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
	Lest it may mar your fortunes.

CORDELIA	Good my lord,
	You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
	Return those duties back as are right fit,
	Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
	Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
	They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
	That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
	Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
	Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,
	To love my father all.

KING LEAR	But goes thy heart with this?

CORDELIA	Ay, good my lord.

KING LEAR	So young, and so untender?

CORDELIA	So young, my lord, and true.

KING LEAR	Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower:
	For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
	The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
	By all the operation of the orbs
	From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
	Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
	Propinquity and property of blood,
	And as a stranger to my heart and me
	Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
	Or he that makes his generation messes
	To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
	Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
	As thou my sometime daughter.

KENT	Good my liege,--

KING LEAR	Peace, Kent!
	Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
	I loved her most, and thought to set my rest
	On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
	So be my grave my peace, as here I give
	Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs?
	Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
	With my two daughters' dowers digest this third:
	Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
	I do invest you jointly with my power,
	Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
	That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
	With reservation of an hundred knights,
	By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
	Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
	The name, and all the additions to a king;
	The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
	Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
	This coronet part betwixt you.

	[Giving the crown]

KENT	Royal Lear,
	Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
	Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,
	As my great patron thought on in my prayers,--

KING LEAR	The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.

KENT	Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
	The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
	When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
	Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
	When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,
	When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;
	And, in thy best consideration, cheque
	This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
	Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
	Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
	Reverbs no hollowness.

KING LEAR	Kent, on thy life, no more.

KENT	My life I never held but as a pawn
	To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
	Thy safety being the motive.

KING LEAR	Out of my sight!

KENT	See better, Lear; and let me still remain
	The true blank of thine eye.

KING LEAR	Now, by Apollo,--

KENT	                  Now, by Apollo, king,
	Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

KING LEAR	O, vassal! miscreant!

	[Laying his hand on his sword]


ALBANY	|
	|  Dear sir, forbear.
CORNWALL	|


KENT	Do:
	Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
	Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
	Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
	I'll tell thee thou dost evil.

KING LEAR	Hear me, recreant!
	On thine allegiance, hear me!
	Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
	Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride
	To come between our sentence and our power,
	Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
	Our potency made good, take thy reward.
	Five days we do allot thee, for provision
	To shield thee from diseases of the world;
	And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
	Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,
	Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
	The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter,
	This shall not be revoked.

KENT	Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,
	Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

	[To CORDELIA]

	The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
	That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!

	[To REGAN and GONERIL]

	And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
	That good effects may spring from words of love.
	Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
	He'll shape his old course in a country new.

	[Exit]

	[Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE,
	BURGUNDY, and Attendants]

GLOUCESTER	Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

KING LEAR	My lord of Burgundy.
	We first address towards you, who with this king
	Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,
	Will you require in present dower with her,
	Or cease your quest of love?

BURGUNDY	Most royal majesty,
	I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,
	Nor will you tender less.

KING LEAR	Right noble Burgundy,
	When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
	But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
	If aught within that little seeming substance,
	Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced,
	And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
	She's there, and she is yours.

BURGUNDY	I know no answer.

KING LEAR	Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
	Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
	Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
	Take her, or leave her?

BURGUNDY	Pardon me, royal sir;
	Election makes not up on such conditions.

KING LEAR	Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,
	I tell you all her wealth.

	[To KING OF FRANCE]

		     For you, great king,
	I would not from your love make such a stray,
	To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
	To avert your liking a more worthier way
	Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed
	Almost to acknowledge hers.

KING OF FRANCE	This is most strange,
	That she, that even but now was your best object,
	The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
	Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
	Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
	So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence
	Must be of such unnatural degree,
	That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
	Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,
	Must be a faith that reason without miracle
	Could never plant in me.

CORDELIA	I yet beseech your majesty,--
	If for I want that glib and oily art,
	To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,
	I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known
	It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
	No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,
	That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;
	But even for want of that for which I am richer,
	A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
	As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
	Hath lost me in your liking.

KING LEAR	Better thou
	Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

KING OF FRANCE	Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature
	Which often leaves the history unspoke
	That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
	What say you to the lady? Love's not love
	When it is mingled with regards that stand
	Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
	She is herself a dowry.

BURGUNDY	Royal Lear,
	Give but that portion which yourself proposed,
	And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
	Duchess of Burgundy.

KING LEAR	Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.

BURGUNDY	I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
	That you must lose a husband.

CORDELIA	Peace be with Burgundy!
	Since that respects of fortune are his love,
	I shall not be his wife.

KING OF FRANCE	Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
	Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
	Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
	Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
	Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
	My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
	Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
	Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
	Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
	Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.
	Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
	Thou losest here, a better where to find.

KING LEAR	Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
	Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
	That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
	Without our grace, our love, our benison.
	Come, noble Burgundy.

	[Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL,
	REGAN, and CORDELIA]

KING OF FRANCE	Bid farewell to your sisters.

CORDELIA	The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
	Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
	And like a sister am most loath to call
	Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:
	To your professed bosoms I commit him
	But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
	I would prefer him to a better place.
	So, farewell to you both.

REGAN	Prescribe not us our duties.

GONERIL	Let your study
	Be to content your lord, who hath received you
	At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
	And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

CORDELIA	Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
	Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
	Well may you prosper!

KING OF FRANCE	Come, my fair Cordelia.

	[Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA]

GONERIL	Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what
	most nearly appertains to us both. I think our
	father will hence to-night.

REGAN	That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

GONERIL	You see how full of changes his age is; the
	observation we have made of it hath not been
	little: he always loved our sister most; and
	with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off
	appears too grossly.

REGAN	'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever
	but slenderly known himself.

GONERIL	The best and soundest of his time hath been but
	rash; then must we look to receive from his age,
	not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed
	condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness
	that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

REGAN	Such unconstant starts are we like to have from
	him as this of Kent's banishment.

GONERIL	There is further compliment of leavetaking
	between France and him. Pray you, let's hit
	together: if our father carry authority with
	such dispositions as he bears, this last
	surrender of his will but offend us.

REGAN	We shall further think on't.

GONERIL	We must do something, and i' the heat.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT I



SCENE II	The Earl of Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter EDMUND, with a letter]

EDMUND	Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
	My services are bound. Wherefore should I
	Stand in the plague of custom, and permit
	The curiosity of nations to deprive me,
	For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines
	Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base?
	When my dimensions are as well compact,
	My mind as generous, and my shape as true,
	As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us
	With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
	Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take
	More composition and fierce quality
	Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed,
	Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops,
	Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then,
	Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land:
	Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund
	As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate!
	Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed,
	And my invention thrive, Edmund the base
	Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper:
	Now, gods, stand up for bastards!

	[Enter GLOUCESTER]

GLOUCESTER	Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted!
	And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power!
	Confined to exhibition! All this done
	Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news?

EDMUND	So please your lordship, none.

	[Putting up the letter]

GLOUCESTER	Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter?

EDMUND	I know no news, my lord.

GLOUCESTER	What paper were you reading?

EDMUND	Nothing, my lord.

GLOUCESTER	No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of
	it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath
	not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come,
	if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles.

EDMUND	I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter
	from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read;
	and for so much as I have perused, I find it not
	fit for your o'er-looking.

GLOUCESTER	Give me the letter, sir.

EDMUND	I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The
	contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame.

GLOUCESTER	Let's see, let's see.

EDMUND	I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote
	this but as an essay or taste of my virtue.

GLOUCESTER	[Reads]  'This policy and reverence of age makes
	the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps
	our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish
	them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage
	in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not
	as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to
	me, that of this I may speak more. If our father
	would sleep till I waked him, you should half his
	revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your
	brother,	EDGAR.'

	Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you
	should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar!
	Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain
	to breed it in?--When came this to you? who
	brought it?

EDMUND	It was not brought me, my lord; there's the
	cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the
	casement of my closet.

GLOUCESTER	You know the character to be your brother's?

EDMUND	If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear
	it were his; but, in respect of that, I would
	fain think it were not.

GLOUCESTER	It is his.

EDMUND	It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is
	not in the contents.

GLOUCESTER	Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business?

EDMUND	Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft
	maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age,
	and fathers declining, the father should be as
	ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue.

GLOUCESTER	O villain, villain! His very opinion in the
	letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested,
	brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah,
	seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain!
	Where is he?

EDMUND	I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please
	you to suspend your indignation against my
	brother till you can derive from him better
	testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain
	course; where, if you violently proceed against
	him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great
	gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the
	heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life
	for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my
	affection to your honour, and to no further
	pretence of danger.

GLOUCESTER	Think you so?

EDMUND	If your honour judge it meet, I will place you
	where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an
	auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and
	that without any further delay than this very evening.

GLOUCESTER	He cannot be such a monster--

EDMUND	Nor is not, sure.

GLOUCESTER	To his father, that so tenderly and entirely
	loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him
	out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the
	business after your own wisdom. I would unstate
	myself, to be in a due resolution.

EDMUND	I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the
	business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal.

GLOUCESTER	These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend
	no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can
	reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself
	scourged by the sequent effects: love cools,
	friendship falls off, brothers divide: in
	cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in
	palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son
	and father. This villain of mine comes under the
	prediction; there's son against father: the king
	falls from bias of nature; there's father against
	child. We have seen the best of our time:
	machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all
	ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our
	graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall
	lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the
	noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his
	offence, honesty! 'Tis strange.

	[Exit]

EDMUND	This is the excellent foppery of the world, that,
	when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit
	of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our
	disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as
	if we were villains by necessity; fools by
	heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
	treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards,
	liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of
	planetary influence; and all that we are evil in,
	by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion
	of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish
	disposition to the charge of a star! My
	father compounded with my mother under the
	dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa
	major; so that it follows, I am rough and
	lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am,
	had the maidenliest star in the firmament
	twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar--

	[Enter EDGAR]

	And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old
	comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a
	sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do
	portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi.

EDGAR	How now, brother Edmund! what serious
	contemplation are you in?

EDMUND	I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read
	this other day, what should follow these eclipses.

EDGAR	Do you busy yourself about that?

EDMUND	I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed
	unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child
	and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of
	ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and
	maledictions against king and nobles; needless
	diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation
	of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what.

EDGAR	How long have you been a sectary astronomical?

EDMUND	Come, come; when saw you my father last?

EDGAR	Why, the night gone by.

EDMUND	Spake you with him?

EDGAR	Ay, two hours together.

EDMUND	Parted you in good terms? Found you no
	displeasure in him by word or countenance?

EDGAR	None at all.

EDMUND	Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended
	him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence
	till some little time hath qualified the heat of
	his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth
	in him, that with the mischief of your person it
	would scarcely allay.

EDGAR	Some villain hath done me wrong.

EDMUND	That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent
	forbearance till the spied of his rage goes
	slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my
	lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to
	hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key:
	if you do stir abroad, go armed.

EDGAR	Armed, brother!

EDMUND	Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I
	am no honest man if there be any good meaning
	towards you: I have told you what I have seen
	and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image
	and horror of it: pray you, away.

EDGAR	Shall I hear from you anon?

EDMUND	I do serve you in this business.

	[Exit EDGAR]

	A credulous father! and a brother noble,
	Whose nature is so far from doing harms,
	That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty
	My practises ride easy! I see the business.
	Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit:
	All with me's meet that I can fashion fit.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT I



SCENE III	The Duke of Albany's palace.


	[Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward]

GONERIL	Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?

OSWALD	Yes, madam.

GONERIL	By day and night he wrongs me; every hour
	He flashes into one gross crime or other,
	That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it:
	His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us
	On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,
	I will not speak with him; say I am sick:
	If you come slack of former services,
	You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.

OSWALD	He's coming, madam; I hear him.

	[Horns within]

GONERIL	Put on what weary negligence you please,
	You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question:
	If he dislike it, let him to our sister,
	Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one,
	Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man,
	That still would manage those authorities
	That he hath given away! Now, by my life,
	Old fools are babes again; and must be used
	With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused.
	Remember what I tell you.

OSWALD	Well, madam.

GONERIL	And let his knights have colder looks among you;
	What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so:
	I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,
	That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister,
	To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT I



SCENE IV	A hall in the same.


	[Enter KENT, disguised]

KENT	If but as well I other accents borrow,
	That can my speech defuse, my good intent
	May carry through itself to that full issue
	For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent,
	If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd,
	So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest,
	Shall find thee full of labours.

	[Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and
	Attendants]

KING LEAR	Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready.

	[Exit an Attendant]

	How now! what art thou?

KENT	A man, sir.

KING LEAR	What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us?

KENT	I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve
	him truly that will put me in trust: to love him
	that is honest; to converse with him that is wise,
	and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I
	cannot choose; and to eat no fish.

KING LEAR	What art thou?

KENT	A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king.

KING LEAR	If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a
	king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou?

KENT	Service.

KING LEAR	Who wouldst thou serve?

KENT	You.

KING LEAR	Dost thou know me, fellow?

KENT	No, sir; but you have that in your countenance
	which I would fain call master.

KING LEAR	What's that?

KENT	Authority.

KING LEAR	What services canst thou do?

KENT	I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious
	tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message
	bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am
	qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.

KING LEAR	How old art thou?

KENT	Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor
	so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years
	on my back forty eight.

KING LEAR	Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no
	worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet.
	Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool?
	Go you, and call my fool hither.

	[Exit an Attendant]

	[Enter OSWALD]

	You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter?

OSWALD	So please you,--

	[Exit]

KING LEAR	What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back.

	[Exit a Knight]

	Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep.

	[Re-enter Knight]

	How now! where's that mongrel?

Knight	He says, my lord, your daughter is not well.

KING LEAR	Why came not the slave back to me when I called him.

Knight	Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would
	not.

KING LEAR	He would not!

Knight	My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my
	judgment, your highness is not entertained with that
	ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a
	great abatement of kindness appears as well in the
	general dependants as in the duke himself also and
	your daughter.

KING LEAR	Ha! sayest thou so?

Knight	I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken;
	for my duty cannot be silent when I think your
	highness wronged.

KING LEAR	Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I
	have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I
	have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity
	than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness:
	I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I
	have not seen him this two days.

Knight	Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the
	fool hath much pined away.

KING LEAR	No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and
	tell my daughter I would speak with her.

	[Exit an Attendant]

	Go you, call hither my fool.

	[Exit an Attendant]

	[Re-enter OSWALD]

	O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I,
	sir?

OSWALD	My lady's father.

KING LEAR	'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your
	whoreson dog! you slave! you cur!

OSWALD	I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon.

KING LEAR	Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?

	[Striking him]

OSWALD	I'll not be struck, my lord.

KENT	Nor tripped neither, you base football player.

	[Tripping up his heels]

KING LEAR	I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll
	love thee.

KENT	Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences:
	away, away! if you will measure your lubber's
	length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you
	wisdom? so.

	[Pushes OSWALD out]

KING LEAR	Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's
	earnest of thy service.

	[Giving KENT money]

	[Enter Fool]

Fool	Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb.

	[Offering KENT his cap]

KING LEAR	How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou?

Fool	Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb.

KENT	Why, fool?

Fool	Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour:
	nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits,
	thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb:
	why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters,
	and did the third a blessing against his will; if
	thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
	How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters!

KING LEAR	Why, my boy?

Fool	If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs
	myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.

KING LEAR	Take heed, sirrah; the whip.

Fool	Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped
	out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink.

KING LEAR	A pestilent gall to me!

Fool	Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech.

KING LEAR	Do.

Fool	Mark it, nuncle:
	Have more than thou showest,
	Speak less than thou knowest,
	Lend less than thou owest,
	Ride more than thou goest,
	Learn more than thou trowest,
	Set less than thou throwest;
	Leave thy drink and thy whore,
	And keep in-a-door,
	And thou shalt have more
	Than two tens to a score.

KENT	This is nothing, fool.

Fool	Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you
	gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of
	nothing, nuncle?

KING LEAR	Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing.

Fool	[To KENT]  Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of
	his land comes to: he will not believe a fool.

KING LEAR	A bitter fool!

Fool	Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a
	bitter fool and a sweet fool?

KING LEAR	No, lad; teach me.

Fool	That lord that counsell'd thee
	To give away thy land,
	Come place him here by me,
	Do thou for him stand:
	The sweet and bitter fool
	Will presently appear;
	The one in motley here,
	The other found out there.

KING LEAR	Dost thou call me fool, boy?

Fool	All thy other titles thou hast given away; that
	thou wast born with.

KENT	This is not altogether fool, my lord.

Fool	No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if
	I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't:
	and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool
	to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg,
	nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns.

KING LEAR	What two crowns shall they be?

Fool	Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat
	up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou
	clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away
	both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er
	the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown,
	when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak
	like myself in this, let him be whipped that first
	finds it so.

	[Singing]

	Fools had ne'er less wit in a year;
	For wise men are grown foppish,
	They know not how their wits to wear,
	Their manners are so apish.

KING LEAR	When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah?

Fool	I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy
	daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them
	the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches,

	[Singing]

	Then they for sudden joy did weep,
	And I for sorrow sung,
	That such a king should play bo-peep,
	And go the fools among.

	Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach
	thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie.

KING LEAR	An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped.

Fool	I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are:
	they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt
	have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am
	whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any
	kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be
	thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides,
	and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o'
	the parings.

	[Enter GONERIL]

KING LEAR	How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on?
	Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown.

Fool	Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to
	care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a
	figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool,
	thou art nothing.

	[To GONERIL]

	Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face
	bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum,
	He that keeps nor crust nor crum,
	Weary of all, shall want some.

	[Pointing to KING LEAR]

	That's a shealed peascod.

GONERIL	Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool,
	But other of your insolent retinue
	Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth
	In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir,
	I had thought, by making this well known unto you,
	To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful,
	By what yourself too late have spoke and done.
	That you protect this course, and put it on
	By your allowance; which if you should, the fault
	Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep,
	Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal,
	Might in their working do you that offence,
	Which else were shame, that then necessity
	Will call discreet proceeding.

Fool	For, you trow, nuncle,
	The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long,
	That it's had it head bit off by it young.
	So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling.

KING LEAR	Are you our daughter?

GONERIL	Come, sir,
	I would you would make use of that good wisdom,
	Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away
	These dispositions, that of late transform you
	From what you rightly are.

Fool	May not an ass know when the cart
	draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee.

KING LEAR	Doth any here know me? This is not Lear:
	Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes?
	Either his notion weakens, his discernings
	Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so.
	Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Fool	Lear's shadow.

KING LEAR	I would learn that; for, by the
	marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason,
	I should be false persuaded I had daughters.

Fool	Which they will make an obedient father.

KING LEAR	Your name, fair gentlewoman?

GONERIL	This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour
	Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you
	To understand my purposes aright:
	As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
	Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires;
	Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold,
	That this our court, infected with their manners,
	Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust
	Make it more like a tavern or a brothel
	Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak
	For instant remedy: be then desired
	By her, that else will take the thing she begs,
	A little to disquantity your train;
	And the remainder, that shall still depend,
	To be such men as may besort your age,
	And know themselves and you.

KING LEAR	Darkness and devils!
	Saddle my horses; call my train together:
	Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee.
	Yet have I left a daughter.

GONERIL	You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble
	Make servants of their betters.

	[Enter ALBANY]

KING LEAR	Woe, that too late repents,--

	[To ALBANY]

		        O, sir, are you come?
	Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses.
	Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend,
	More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child
	Than the sea-monster!

ALBANY	Pray, sir, be patient.

KING LEAR	[To GONERIL]  Detested kite! thou liest.
	My train are men of choice and rarest parts,
	That all particulars of duty know,
	And in the most exact regard support
	The worships of their name. O most small fault,
	How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show!
	That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature
	From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love,
	And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear!
	Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in,

	[Striking his head]

	And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people.

ALBANY	My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant
	Of what hath moved you.

KING LEAR	It may be so, my lord.
	Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear!
	Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend
	To make this creature fruitful!
	Into her womb convey sterility!
	Dry up in her the organs of increase;
	And from her derogate body never spring
	A babe to honour her! If she must teem,
	Create her child of spleen; that it may live,
	And be a thwart disnatured torment to her!
	Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth;
	With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks;
	Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
	To laughter and contempt; that she may feel
	How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
	To have a thankless child! Away, away!

	[Exit]

ALBANY	Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this?

GONERIL	Never afflict yourself to know the cause;
	But let his disposition have that scope
	That dotage gives it.

	[Re-enter KING LEAR]

KING LEAR	What, fifty of my followers at a clap!
	Within a fortnight!

ALBANY	What's the matter, sir?


KING LEAR	I'll tell thee:

	[To GONERIL]

	Life and death! I am ashamed
	That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
	That these hot tears, which break from me perforce,
	Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee!
	The untented woundings of a father's curse
	Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes,
	Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out,
	And cast you, with the waters that you lose,
	To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this?
	Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter,
	Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable:
	When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails
	She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find
	That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think
	I have cast off for ever: thou shalt,
	I warrant thee.

	[Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants]

GONERIL	Do you mark that, my lord?

ALBANY	I cannot be so partial, Goneril,
	To the great love I bear you,--

GONERIL	Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho!

	[To the Fool]

	You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master.

Fool	Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool
	with thee.
	A fox, when one has caught her,
	And such a daughter,
	Should sure to the slaughter,
	If my cap would buy a halter:
	So the fool follows after.

	[Exit]

GONERIL	This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights!
	'Tis politic and safe to let him keep
	At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream,
	Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike,
	He may enguard his dotage with their powers,
	And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say!

ALBANY	Well, you may fear too far.

GONERIL	Safer than trust too far:
	Let me still take away the harms I fear,
	Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart.
	What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister
	If she sustain him and his hundred knights
	When I have show'd the unfitness,--

	[Re-enter OSWALD]

		                  How now, Oswald!
	What, have you writ that letter to my sister?

OSWALD	Yes, madam.

GONERIL	Take you some company, and away to horse:
	Inform her full of my particular fear;
	And thereto add such reasons of your own
	As may compact it more. Get you gone;
	And hasten your return.

	[Exit OSWALD]

		  No, no, my lord,
	This milky gentleness and course of yours
	Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon,
	You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom
	Than praised for harmful mildness.

ALBANY	How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell:
	Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.

GONERIL	Nay, then--

ALBANY	Well, well; the event.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT I



SCENE V	Court before the same.


	[Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool]

KING LEAR	Go you before to Gloucester with these letters.
	Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you
	know than comes from her demand out of the letter.
	If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you.

KENT	I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered
	your letter.

	[Exit]

Fool	If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in
	danger of kibes?

KING LEAR	Ay, boy.

Fool	Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go
	slip-shod.

KING LEAR	Ha, ha, ha!

Fool	Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly;
	for though she's as like this as a crab's like an
	apple, yet I can tell what I can tell.

KING LEAR	Why, what canst thou tell, my boy?

Fool	She will taste as like this as a crab does to a
	crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i'
	the middle on's face?

KING LEAR	No.

Fool	Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that
	what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into.

KING LEAR	I did her wrong--

Fool	Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

KING LEAR	No.

Fool	Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house.

KING LEAR	Why?

Fool	Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his
	daughters, and leave his horns without a case.

KING LEAR	I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my
	horses ready?

Fool	Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the
	seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason.

KING LEAR	Because they are not eight?

Fool	Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool.

KING LEAR	To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude!

Fool	If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten
	for being old before thy time.

KING LEAR	How's that?

Fool	Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst
	been wise.

KING LEAR	O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven
	Keep me in temper: I would not be mad!

	[Enter Gentleman]

	How now! are the horses ready?

Gentleman	Ready, my lord.

KING LEAR	Come, boy.

Fool	She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure,
	Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT II



SCENE I	GLOUCESTER's castle.


	[Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him]

EDMUND	Save thee, Curan.

CURAN	And you, sir. I have been with your father, and
	given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan
	his duchess will be here with him this night.

EDMUND	How comes that?

CURAN	Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad;
	I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but
	ear-kissing arguments?

EDMUND	Not I	pray you, what are they?

CURAN	Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the
	Dukes of Cornwall and Albany?

EDMUND	Not a word.

CURAN	You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir.

	[Exit]

EDMUND	The duke be here to-night? The better! best!
	This weaves itself perforce into my business.
	My father hath set guard to take my brother;
	And I have one thing, of a queasy question,
	Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work!
	Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say!

	[Enter EDGAR]

	My father watches: O sir, fly this place;
	Intelligence is given where you are hid;
	You have now the good advantage of the night:
	Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall?
	He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste,
	And Regan with him: have you nothing said
	Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany?
	Advise yourself.

EDGAR	                  I am sure on't, not a word.

EDMUND	I hear my father coming: pardon me:
	In cunning I must draw my sword upon you
	Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well.
	Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here!
	Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell.

	[Exit EDGAR]

	Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion.

	[Wounds his arm]

	Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards
	Do more than this in sport. Father, father!
	Stop, stop! No help?

	[Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches]

GLOUCESTER	Now, Edmund, where's the villain?

EDMUND	Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out,
	Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon
	To stand auspicious mistress,--

GLOUCESTER	But where is he?

EDMUND	Look, sir, I bleed.

GLOUCESTER	Where is the villain, Edmund?

EDMUND	Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could--

GLOUCESTER	Pursue him, ho! Go after.

	[Exeunt some Servants]

		     By no means what?

EDMUND	Persuade me to the murder of your lordship;
	But that I told him, the revenging gods
	'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend;
	Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond
	The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine,
	Seeing how loathly opposite I stood
	To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion,
	With his prepared sword, he charges home
	My unprovided body, lanced mine arm:
	But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits,
	Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter,
	Or whether gasted by the noise I made,
	Full suddenly he fled.

GLOUCESTER	Let him fly far:
	Not in this land shall he remain uncaught;
	And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master,
	My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night:
	By his authority I will proclaim it,
	That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks,
	Bringing the murderous coward to the stake;
	He that conceals him, death.

EDMUND	When I dissuaded him from his intent,
	And found him pight to do it, with curst speech
	I threaten'd to discover him: he replied,
	'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think,
	If I would stand against thee, would the reposal
	Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee
	Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,--
	As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce
	My very character,--I'ld turn it all
	To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise:
	And thou must make a dullard of the world,
	If they not thought the profits of my death
	Were very pregnant and potential spurs
	To make thee seek it.'

GLOUCESTER	Strong and fasten'd villain
	Would he deny his letter? I never got him.

	[Tucket within]

	Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes.
	All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape;
	The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture
	I will send far and near, that all the kingdom
	May have the due note of him; and of my land,
	Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means
	To make thee capable.

	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants]

CORNWALL	How now, my noble friend! since I came hither,
	Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news.

REGAN	If it be true, all vengeance comes too short
	Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord?

GLOUCESTER	O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd!

REGAN	What, did my father's godson seek your life?
	He whom my father named? your Edgar?

GLOUCESTER	O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid!

REGAN	Was he not companion with the riotous knights
	That tend upon my father?

GLOUCESTER	I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad.

EDMUND	Yes, madam, he was of that consort.

REGAN	No marvel, then, though he were ill affected:
	'Tis they have put him on the old man's death,
	To have the expense and waste of his revenues.
	I have this present evening from my sister
	Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions,
	That if they come to sojourn at my house,
	I'll not be there.

CORNWALL	Nor I, assure thee, Regan.
	Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father
	A child-like office.

EDMUND	'Twas my duty, sir.

GLOUCESTER	He did bewray his practise; and received
	This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him.

CORNWALL	Is he pursued?

GLOUCESTER	                  Ay, my good lord.

CORNWALL	If he be taken, he shall never more
	Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose,
	How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund,
	Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant
	So much commend itself, you shall be ours:
	Natures of such deep trust we shall much need;
	You we first seize on.

EDMUND	I shall serve you, sir,
	Truly, however else.

GLOUCESTER	For him I thank your grace.

CORNWALL	You know not why we came to visit you,--

REGAN	Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night:
	Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise,
	Wherein we must have use of your advice:
	Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister,
	Of differences, which I least thought it fit
	To answer from our home; the several messengers
	From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend,
	Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow
	Your needful counsel to our business,
	Which craves the instant use.

GLOUCESTER	I serve you, madam:
	Your graces are right welcome.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT II



SCENE II	Before Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally]

OSWALD	Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house?

KENT	Ay.

OSWALD	Where may we set our horses?

KENT	I' the mire.

OSWALD	Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me.

KENT	I love thee not.

OSWALD	Why, then, I care not for thee.

KENT	If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee
	care for me.

OSWALD	Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not.

KENT	Fellow, I know thee.

OSWALD	What dost thou know me for?

KENT	A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
	base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
	hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
	lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
	glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
	one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
	bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
	the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
	and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
	will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
	the least syllable of thy addition.

OSWALD	Why, what a monstrous fellow art thou, thus to rail
	on one that is neither known of thee nor knows thee!

KENT	What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou
	knowest me! Is it two days ago since I tripped up
	thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you
	rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon
	shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you:
	draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw.

	[Drawing his sword]

OSWALD	Away! I have nothing to do with thee.

KENT	Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the
	king; and take vanity the puppet's part against the
	royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so
	carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways.

OSWALD	Help, ho! murder! help!

KENT	Strike, you slave; stand, rogue, stand; you neat
	slave, strike.

	[Beating him]

OSWALD	Help, ho! murder! murder!

	[Enter EDMUND, with his rapier drawn, CORNWALL,
	REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants]

EDMUND	How now! What's the matter?

KENT	With you, goodman boy, an you please: come, I'll
	flesh ye; come on, young master.

GLOUCESTER	Weapons! arms! What 's the matter here?

CORNWALL	Keep peace, upon your lives:
	He dies that strikes again. What is the matter?

REGAN	The messengers from our sister and the king.

CORNWALL	What is your difference? speak.

OSWALD	I am scarce in breath, my lord.

KENT	No marvel, you have so bestirred your valour. You
	cowardly rascal, nature disclaims in thee: a
	tailor made thee.

CORNWALL	Thou art a strange fellow: a tailor make a man?

KENT	Ay, a tailor, sir: a stone-cutter or painter could
	not have made him so ill, though he had been but two
	hours at the trade.

CORNWALL	Speak yet, how grew your quarrel?

OSWALD	This ancient ruffian, sir, whose life I have spared
	at suit of his gray beard,--

KENT	Thou whoreson zed! thou unnecessary letter! My
	lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this
	unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of
	a jakes with him. Spare my gray beard, you wagtail?

CORNWALL	Peace, sirrah!
	You beastly knave, know you no reverence?

KENT	Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege.

CORNWALL	Why art thou angry?

KENT	That such a slave as this should wear a sword,
	Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these,
	Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain
	Which are too intrinse t' unloose; smooth every passion
	That in the natures of their lords rebel;
	Bring oil to fire, snow to their colder moods;
	Renege, affirm, and turn their halcyon beaks
	With every gale and vary of their masters,
	Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.
	A plague upon your epileptic visage!
	Smile you my speeches, as I were a fool?
	Goose, if I had you upon Sarum plain,
	I'ld drive ye cackling home to Camelot.

CORNWALL	Why, art thou mad, old fellow?

GLOUCESTER	How fell you out? say that.

KENT	No contraries hold more antipathy
	Than I and such a knave.

CORNWALL	Why dost thou call him a knave?  What's his offence?

KENT	His countenance likes me not.

CORNWALL	No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers.

KENT	Sir, 'tis my occupation to be plain:
	I have seen better faces in my time
	Than stands on any shoulder that I see
	Before me at this instant.

CORNWALL	This is some fellow,
	Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect
	A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb
	Quite from his nature: he cannot flatter, he,
	An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth!
	An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain.
	These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness
	Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends
	Than twenty silly ducking observants
	That stretch their duties nicely.

KENT	Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity,
	Under the allowance of your great aspect,
	Whose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire
	On flickering Phoebus' front,--

CORNWALL	What mean'st by this?

KENT	To go out of my dialect, which you
	discommend so much. I know, sir, I am no
	flatterer: he that beguiled you in a plain
	accent was a plain knave; which for my part
	I will not be, though I should win your displeasure
	to entreat me to 't.

CORNWALL	What was the offence you gave him?

OSWALD	I never gave him any:
	It pleased the king his master very late
	To strike at me, upon his misconstruction;
	When he, conjunct and flattering his displeasure,
	Tripp'd me behind; being down, insulted, rail'd,
	And put upon him such a deal of man,
	That worthied him, got praises of the king
	For him attempting who was self-subdued;
	And, in the fleshment of this dread exploit,
	Drew on me here again.

KENT	None of these rogues and cowards
	But Ajax is their fool.

CORNWALL	Fetch forth the stocks!
	You stubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart,
	We'll teach you--

KENT	                  Sir, I am too old to learn:
	Call not your stocks for me: I serve the king;
	On whose employment I was sent to you:
	You shall do small respect, show too bold malice
	Against the grace and person of my master,
	Stocking his messenger.

CORNWALL	Fetch forth the stocks! As I have life and honour,
	There shall he sit till noon.

REGAN	Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too.

KENT	Why, madam, if I were your father's dog,
	You should not use me so.

REGAN	Sir, being his knave, I will.

CORNWALL	This is a fellow of the self-same colour
	Our sister speaks of. Come, bring away the stocks!

	[Stocks brought out]

GLOUCESTER	Let me beseech your grace not to do so:
	His fault is much, and the good king his master
	Will cheque him for 't: your purposed low correction
	Is such as basest and contemned'st wretches
	For pilferings and most common trespasses
	Are punish'd with: the king must take it ill,
	That he's so slightly valued in his messenger,
	Should have him thus restrain'd.

CORNWALL	I'll answer that.

REGAN	My sister may receive it much more worse,
	To have her gentleman abused, assaulted,
	For following her affairs. Put in his legs.

	[KENT is put in the stocks]

	Come, my good lord, away.

	[Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER and KENT]

GLOUCESTER	I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure,
	Whose disposition, all the world well knows,
	Will not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: I'll entreat for thee.

KENT	Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and travell'd hard;
	Some time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle.
	A good man's fortune may grow out at heels:
	Give you good morrow!

GLOUCESTER	The duke's to blame in this; 'twill be ill taken.

	[Exit]

KENT	Good king, that must approve the common saw,
	Thou out of heaven's benediction comest
	To the warm sun!
	Approach, thou beacon to this under globe,
	That by thy comfortable beams I may
	Peruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles
	But misery: I know 'tis from Cordelia,
	Who hath most fortunately been inform'd
	Of my obscured course; and shall find time
	From this enormous state, seeking to give
	Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatch'd,
	Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold
	This shameful lodging.
	Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel!

	[Sleeps]




	KING LEAR


ACT II



SCENE III	A wood.


	[Enter EDGAR]

EDGAR	I heard myself proclaim'd;
	And by the happy hollow of a tree
	Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place,
	That guard, and most unusual vigilance,
	Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may 'scape,
	I will preserve myself: and am bethought
	To take the basest and most poorest shape
	That ever penury, in contempt of man,
	Brought near to beast: my face I'll grime with filth;
	Blanket my loins: elf all my hair in knots;
	And with presented nakedness out-face
	The winds and persecutions of the sky.
	The country gives me proof and precedent
	Of Bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
	Strike in their numb'd and mortified bare arms
	Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary;
	And with this horrible object, from low farms,
	Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,
	Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
	Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Tom!
	That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT II



SCENE IV	Before GLOUCESTER's castle. KENT in the stocks.


	[Enter KING LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman]

KING LEAR	'Tis strange that they should so depart from home,
	And not send back my messenger.

Gentleman	As I learn'd,
	The night before there was no purpose in them
	Of this remove.

KENT	                  Hail to thee, noble master!

KING LEAR	Ha!
	Makest thou this shame thy pastime?

KENT	No, my lord.

Fool	Ha, ha! he wears cruel garters. Horses are tied
	by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkeys by
	the loins, and men by the legs: when a man's
	over-lusty at legs, then he wears wooden
	nether-stocks.

KING LEAR	What's he that hath so much thy place mistook
	To set thee here?

KENT	                  It is both he and she;
	Your son and daughter.

KING LEAR	No.

KENT	Yes.

KING LEAR	No, I say.

KENT	I say, yea.

KING LEAR	No, no, they would not.

KENT	Yes, they have.

KING LEAR	By Jupiter, I swear, no.

KENT	By Juno, I swear, ay.

KING LEAR	They durst not do 't;
	They could not, would not do 't; 'tis worse than murder,
	To do upon respect such violent outrage:
	Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way
	Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage,
	Coming from us.

KENT	                  My lord, when at their home
	I did commend your highness' letters to them,
	Ere I was risen from the place that show'd
	My duty kneeling, came there a reeking post,
	Stew'd in his haste, half breathless, panting forth
	From Goneril his mistress salutations;
	Deliver'd letters, spite of intermission,
	Which presently they read: on whose contents,
	They summon'd up their meiny, straight took horse;
	Commanded me to follow, and attend
	The leisure of their answer; gave me cold looks:
	And meeting here the other messenger,
	Whose welcome, I perceived, had poison'd mine,--
	Being the very fellow that of late
	Display'd so saucily against your highness,--
	Having more man than wit about me, drew:
	He raised the house with loud and coward cries.
	Your son and daughter found this trespass worth
	The shame which here it suffers.

Fool	Winter's not gone yet, if the wild-geese fly that way.
	Fathers that wear rags
	Do make their children blind;
	But fathers that bear bags
	Shall see their children kind.
	Fortune, that arrant whore,
	Ne'er turns the key to the poor.
	But, for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours
	for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.

KING LEAR	O, how this mother swells up toward my heart!
	Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow,
	Thy element's below! Where is this daughter?

KENT	With the earl, sir, here within.

KING LEAR	Follow me not;
	Stay here.

	[Exit]

Gentleman	Made you no more offence but what you speak of?

KENT	None.
	How chance the king comes with so small a train?

Fool	And thou hadst been set i' the stocks for that
	question, thou hadst well deserved it.

KENT	Why, fool?

Fool	We'll set thee to school to an ant, to teach thee
	there's no labouring i' the winter. All that follow
	their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and
	there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him
	that's stinking. Let go thy hold when a great wheel
	runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with
	following it: but the great one that goes up the
	hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man
	gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I
	would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.
	That sir which serves and seeks for gain,
	And follows but for form,
	Will pack when it begins to rain,
	And leave thee in the storm,
	But I will tarry; the fool will stay,
	And let the wise man fly:
	The knave turns fool that runs away;
	The fool no knave, perdy.

KENT	Where learned you this, fool?

Fool	Not i' the stocks, fool.

	[Re-enter KING LEAR with GLOUCESTER]

KING LEAR	Deny to speak with me? They are sick? they are weary?
	They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches;
	The images of revolt and flying off.
	Fetch me a better answer.

GLOUCESTER	My dear lord,
	You know the fiery quality of the duke;
	How unremoveable and fix'd he is
	In his own course.

KING LEAR	Vengeance! plague! death! confusion!
	Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
	I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

GLOUCESTER	Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so.

KING LEAR	Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man?

GLOUCESTER	Ay, my good lord.

KING LEAR	The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
	Would with his daughter speak, commands her service:
	Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood!
	Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke that--
	No, but not yet: may be he is not well:
	Infirmity doth still neglect all office
	Whereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves
	When nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
	To suffer with the body: I'll forbear;
	And am fall'n out with my more headier will,
	To take the indisposed and sickly fit
	For the sound man. Death on my state! wherefore

	[Looking on KENT]

	Should he sit here? This act persuades me
	That this remotion of the duke and her
	Is practise only. Give me my servant forth.
	Go tell the duke and 's wife I'ld speak with them,
	Now, presently: bid them come forth and hear me,
	Or at their chamber-door I'll beat the drum
	Till it cry sleep to death.

GLOUCESTER	I would have all well betwixt you.

	[Exit]

KING LEAR	O me, my heart, my rising heart! but, down!

Fool	Cry to it, nuncle, as the cockney did to the eels
	when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she knapped 'em
	o' the coxcombs with a stick, and cried 'Down,
	wantons, down!' 'Twas her brother that, in pure
	kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.

	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER, and Servants]

KING LEAR	Good morrow to you both.

CORNWALL	Hail to your grace!

	[KENT is set at liberty]

REGAN	I am glad to see your highness.

KING LEAR	Regan, I think you are; I know what reason
	I have to think so: if thou shouldst not be glad,
	I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb,
	Sepulchring an adultress.

	[To KENT]

		    O, are you free?
	Some other time for that. Beloved Regan,
	Thy sister's naught: O Regan, she hath tied
	Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here:

	[Points to his heart]

	I can scarce speak to thee; thou'lt not believe
	With how depraved a quality--O Regan!

REGAN	I pray you, sir, take patience: I have hope.
	You less know how to value her desert
	Than she to scant her duty.

KING LEAR	Say, how is that?

REGAN	I cannot think my sister in the least
	Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance
	She have restrain'd the riots of your followers,
	'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end,
	As clears her from all blame.

KING LEAR	My curses on her!

REGAN	                  O, sir, you are old.
	Nature in you stands on the very verge
	Of her confine: you should be ruled and led
	By some discretion, that discerns your state
	Better than you yourself. Therefore, I pray you,
	That to our sister you do make return;
	Say you have wrong'd her, sir.

KING LEAR	Ask her forgiveness?
	Do you but mark how this becomes the house:
	'Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;

	[Kneeling]

	Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg
	That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.'

REGAN	Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks:
	Return you to my sister.

KING LEAR	[Rising]  Never, Regan:
	She hath abated me of half my train;
	Look'd black upon me; struck me with her tongue,
	Most serpent-like, upon the very heart:
	All the stored vengeances of heaven fall
	On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones,
	You taking airs, with lameness!

CORNWALL	Fie, sir, fie!

KING LEAR	You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames
	Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty,
	You fen-suck'd fogs, drawn by the powerful sun,
	To fall and blast her pride!

REGAN	O the blest gods! so will you wish on me,
	When the rash mood is on.

KING LEAR	No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse:
	Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give
	Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine
	Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee
	To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train,
	To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes,
	And in conclusion to oppose the bolt
	Against my coming in: thou better know'st
	The offices of nature, bond of childhood,
	Effects of courtesy, dues of gratitude;
	Thy half o' the kingdom hast thou not forgot,
	Wherein I thee endow'd.

REGAN	Good sir, to the purpose.

KING LEAR	Who put my man i' the stocks?

	[Tucket within]

CORNWALL	What trumpet's that?

REGAN	I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter,
	That she would soon be here.

	[Enter OSWALD]

		       Is your lady come?

KING LEAR	This is a slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride
	Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows.
	Out, varlet, from my sight!

CORNWALL	What means your grace?

KING LEAR	Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope
	Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? O heavens,

	[Enter GONERIL]

	If you do love old men, if your sweet sway
	Allow obedience, if yourselves are old,
	Make it your cause; send down, and take my part!

	[To GONERIL]

	Art not ashamed to look upon this beard?
	O Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand?

GONERIL	Why not by the hand, sir? How have I offended?
	All's not offence that indiscretion finds
	And dotage terms so.

KING LEAR	O sides, you are too tough;
	Will you yet hold? How came my man i' the stocks?

CORNWALL	I set him there, sir: but his own disorders
	Deserved much less advancement.

KING LEAR	You! did you?

REGAN	I pray you, father, being weak, seem so.
	If, till the expiration of your month,
	You will return and sojourn with my sister,
	Dismissing half your train, come then to me:
	I am now from home, and out of that provision
	Which shall be needful for your entertainment.

KING LEAR	Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd?
	No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose
	To wage against the enmity o' the air;
	To be a comrade with the wolf and owl,--
	Necessity's sharp pinch! Return with her?
	Why, the hot-blooded France, that dowerless took
	Our youngest born, I could as well be brought
	To knee his throne, and, squire-like; pension beg
	To keep base life afoot. Return with her?
	Persuade me rather to be slave and sumpter
	To this detested groom.

	[Pointing at OSWALD]

GONERIL	At your choice, sir.

KING LEAR	I prithee, daughter, do not make me mad:
	I will not trouble thee, my child; farewell:
	We'll no more meet, no more see one another:
	But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter;
	Or rather a disease that's in my flesh,
	Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil,
	A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle,
	In my corrupted blood. But I'll not chide thee;
	Let shame come when it will, I do not call it:
	I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
	Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove:
	Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure:
	I can be patient; I can stay with Regan,
	I and my hundred knights.

REGAN	Not altogether so:
	I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided
	For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister;
	For those that mingle reason with your passion
	Must be content to think you old, and so--
	But she knows what she does.

KING LEAR	Is this well spoken?

REGAN	I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers?
	Is it not well? What should you need of more?
	Yea, or so many, sith that both charge and danger
	Speak 'gainst so great a number? How, in one house,
	Should many people, under two commands,
	Hold amity? 'Tis hard; almost impossible.

GONERIL	Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance
	From those that she calls servants or from mine?

REGAN	Why not, my lord? If then they chanced to slack you,
	We could control them. If you will come to me,--
	For now I spy a danger,--I entreat you
	To bring but five and twenty: to no more
	Will I give place or notice.

KING LEAR	I gave you all--

REGAN	                  And in good time you gave it.

KING LEAR	Made you my guardians, my depositaries;
	But kept a reservation to be follow'd
	With such a number. What, must I come to you
	With five and twenty, Regan? said you so?

REGAN	And speak't again, my lord; no more with me.

KING LEAR	Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'd,
	When others are more wicked: not being the worst
	Stands in some rank of praise.

	[To GONERIL]

		         I'll go with thee:
	Thy fifty yet doth double five and twenty,
	And thou art twice her love.

GONERIL	Hear me, my lord;
	What need you five and twenty, ten, or five,
	To follow in a house where twice so many
	Have a command to tend you?

REGAN	What need one?

KING LEAR	O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
	Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
	Allow not nature more than nature needs,
	Man's life's as cheap as beast's: thou art a lady;
	If only to go warm were gorgeous,
	Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
	Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need,--
	You heavens, give me that patience, patience I need!
	You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,
	As full of grief as age; wretched in both!
	If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts
	Against their father, fool me not so much
	To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
	And let not women's weapons, water-drops,
	Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags,
	I will have such revenges on you both,
	That all the world shall--I will do such things,--
	What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be
	The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep
	No, I'll not weep:
	I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
	Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws,
	Or ere I'll weep. O fool, I shall go mad!

	[Exeunt KING LEAR, GLOUCESTER, KENT, and Fool]

	[Storm and tempest]

CORNWALL	Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm.

REGAN	This house is little: the old man and his people
	Cannot be well bestow'd.

GONERIL	'Tis his own blame; hath put himself from rest,
	And must needs taste his folly.

REGAN	For his particular, I'll receive him gladly,
	But not one follower.

GONERIL	So am I purposed.
	Where is my lord of Gloucester?

CORNWALL	Follow'd the old man forth: he is return'd.

	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER]

GLOUCESTER	The king is in high rage.

CORNWALL	Whither is he going?

GLOUCESTER	He calls to horse; but will I know not whither.

CORNWALL	'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself.

GONERIL	My lord, entreat him by no means to stay.

GLOUCESTER	Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds
	Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about
	There's scarce a bush.

REGAN	O, sir, to wilful men,
	The injuries that they themselves procure
	Must be their schoolmasters. Shut up your doors:
	He is attended with a desperate train;
	And what they may incense him to, being apt
	To have his ear abused, wisdom bids fear.

CORNWALL	Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night:
	My Regan counsels well; come out o' the storm.

	[Exeunt]



	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE I	A heath.


	[Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting]

KENT	Who's there, besides foul weather?

Gentleman	One minded like the weather, most unquietly.

KENT	I know you. Where's the king?

Gentleman	Contending with the fretful element:
	Bids the winds blow the earth into the sea,
	Or swell the curled water 'bove the main,
	That things might change or cease; tears his white hair,
	Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage,
	Catch in their fury, and make nothing of;
	Strives in his little world of man to out-scorn
	The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain.
	This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch,
	The lion and the belly-pinched wolf
	Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs,
	And bids what will take all.

KENT	But who is with him?

Gentleman	None but the fool; who labours to out-jest
	His heart-struck injuries.

KENT	Sir, I do know you;
	And dare, upon the warrant of my note,
	Commend a dear thing to you. There is division,
	Although as yet the face of it be cover'd
	With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall;
	Who have--as who have not, that their great stars
	Throned and set high?--servants, who seem no less,
	Which are to France the spies and speculations
	Intelligent of our state; what hath been seen,
	Either in snuffs and packings of the dukes,
	Or the hard rein which both of them have borne
	Against the old kind king; or something deeper,
	Whereof perchance these are but furnishings;
	But, true it is, from France there comes a power
	Into this scatter'd kingdom; who already,
	Wise in our negligence, have secret feet
	In some of our best ports, and are at point
	To show their open banner. Now to you:
	If on my credit you dare build so far
	To make your speed to Dover, you shall find
	Some that will thank you, making just report
	Of how unnatural and bemadding sorrow
	The king hath cause to plain.
	I am a gentleman of blood and breeding;
	And, from some knowledge and assurance, offer
	This office to you.

Gentleman	I will talk further with you.

KENT	No, do not.
	For confirmation that I am much more
	Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take
	What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,--
	As fear not but you shall,--show her this ring;
	And she will tell you who your fellow is
	That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm!
	I will go seek the king.

Gentleman	Give me your hand: have you no more to say?

KENT	Few words, but, to effect, more than all yet;
	That, when we have found the king,--in which your pain
	That way, I'll this,--he that first lights on him
	Holla the other.

	[Exeunt severally]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE II	Another part of the heath. Storm still.


	[Enter KING LEAR and Fool]

KING LEAR	Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
	You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
	Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks!
	You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
	Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
	Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
	Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world!
	Crack nature's moulds, an germens spill at once,
	That make ingrateful man!

Fool	O nuncle, court holy-water in a dry
	house is better than this rain-water out o' door.
	Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters' blessing:
	here's a night pities neither wise man nor fool.

KING LEAR	Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain!
	Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters:
	I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness;
	I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
	You owe me no subscription: then let fall
	Your horrible pleasure: here I stand, your slave,
	A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man:
	But yet I call you servile ministers,
	That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
	Your high engender'd battles 'gainst a head
	So old and white as this. O! O! 'tis foul!

Fool	He that has a house to put's head in has a good
	head-piece.
	The cod-piece that will house
	Before the head has any,
	The head and he shall louse;
	So beggars marry many.
	The man that makes his toe
	What he his heart should make
	Shall of a corn cry woe,
	And turn his sleep to wake.
	For there was never yet fair woman but she made
	mouths in a glass.

KING LEAR	No, I will be the pattern of all patience;
	I will say nothing.

	[Enter KENT]

KENT	Who's there?

Fool	Marry, here's grace and a cod-piece; that's a wise
	man and a fool.

KENT	Alas, sir, are you here? things that love night
	Love not such nights as these; the wrathful skies
	Gallow the very wanderers of the dark,
	And make them keep their caves: since I was man,
	Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder,
	Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
	Remember to have heard: man's nature cannot carry
	The affliction nor the fear.

KING LEAR	Let the great gods,
	That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads,
	Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch,
	That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
	Unwhipp'd of justice: hide thee, thou bloody hand;
	Thou perjured, and thou simular man of virtue
	That art incestuous: caitiff, to pieces shake,
	That under covert and convenient seeming
	Hast practised on man's life: close pent-up guilts,
	Rive your concealing continents, and cry
	These dreadful summoners grace. I am a man
	More sinn'd against than sinning.

KENT	Alack, bare-headed!
	Gracious my lord, hard by here is a hovel;
	Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the tempest:
	Repose you there; while I to this hard house--
	More harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised;
	Which even but now, demanding after you,
	Denied me to come in--return, and force
	Their scanted courtesy.

KING LEAR	My wits begin to turn.
	Come on, my boy: how dost, my boy? art cold?
	I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow?
	The art of our necessities is strange,
	That can make vile things precious. Come,
	your hovel.
	Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart
	That's sorry yet for thee.

Fool	[Singing]

	He that has and a little tiny wit--
	With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,--
	Must make content with his fortunes fit,
	For the rain it raineth every day.

KING LEAR	True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel.

	[Exeunt KING LEAR and KENT]

Fool	This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.
	I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:
	When priests are more in word than matter;
	When brewers mar their malt with water;
	When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
	No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors;
	When every case in law is right;
	No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
	When slanders do not live in tongues;
	Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
	When usurers tell their gold i' the field;
	And bawds and whores do churches build;
	Then shall the realm of Albion
	Come to great confusion:
	Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
	That going shall be used with feet.
	This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE III	Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter GLOUCESTER and EDMUND]

GLOUCESTER	Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural
	dealing. When I desire their leave that I might
	pity him, they took from me the use of mine own
	house; charged me, on pain of their perpetual
	displeasure, neither to speak of him, entreat for
	him, nor any way sustain him.

EDMUND	Most savage and unnatural!

GLOUCESTER	Go to; say you nothing. There's a division betwixt
	the dukes; and a worse matter than that: I have
	received a letter this night; 'tis dangerous to be
	spoken; I have locked the letter in my closet:
	these injuries the king now bears will be revenged
	home; there's part of a power already footed: we
	must incline to the king. I will seek him, and
	privily relieve him: go you and maintain talk with
	the duke, that my charity be not of him perceived:
	if he ask for me. I am ill, and gone to bed.
	Though I die for it, as no less is threatened me,
	the king my old master must be relieved. There is
	some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful.

	[Exit]

EDMUND	This courtesy, forbid thee, shall the duke
	Instantly know; and of that letter too:
	This seems a fair deserving, and must draw me
	That which my father loses; no less than all:
	The younger rises when the old doth fall.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE IV	The heath. Before a hovel.


	[Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool]

KENT	Here is the place, my lord; good my lord, enter:
	The tyranny of the open night's too rough
	For nature to endure.

	[Storm still]

KING LEAR	Let me alone.

KENT	Good my lord, enter here.

KING LEAR	Wilt break my heart?

KENT	I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter.

KING LEAR	Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
	Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;
	But where the greater malady is fix'd,
	The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'ldst shun a bear;
	But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea,
	Thou'ldst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the
	mind's free,
	The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
	Doth from my senses take all feeling else
	Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude!
	Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand
	For lifting food to't? But I will punish home:
	No, I will weep no more. In such a night
	To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure.
	In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril!
	Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all,--
	O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
	No more of that.

KENT	                  Good my lord, enter here.

KING LEAR	Prithee, go in thyself: seek thine own ease:
	This tempest will not give me leave to ponder
	On things would hurt me more. But I'll go in.

	[To the Fool]

	In, boy; go first. You houseless poverty,--
	Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.

	[Fool goes in]

	Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are,
	That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
	How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
	Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you
	From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en
	Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
	Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
	That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
	And show the heavens more just.

EDGAR	[Within]  Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!

	[The Fool runs out from the hovel]

Fool	Come not in here, nuncle, here's a spirit
	Help me, help me!

KENT	Give me thy hand. Who's there?

Fool	A spirit, a spirit: he says his name's poor Tom.

KENT	What art thou that dost grumble there i' the straw?
	Come forth.

	[Enter EDGAR disguised as a mad man]

EDGAR	Away! the foul fiend follows me!
	Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind.
	Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee.

KING LEAR	Hast thou given all to thy two daughters?
	And art thou come to this?

EDGAR	Who gives any thing to poor Tom? whom the foul
	fiend hath led through fire and through flame, and
	through ford and whirlipool e'er bog and quagmire;
	that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters
	in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made film
	proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over
	four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for a
	traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold,--O, do
	de, do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds,
	star-blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some
	charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I
	have him now,--and there,--and there again, and there.

	[Storm still]

KING LEAR	What, have his daughters brought him to this pass?
	Couldst thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all?

Fool	Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed.

KING LEAR	Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air
	Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters!

KENT	He hath no daughters, sir.

KING LEAR	Death, traitor! nothing could have subdued nature
	To such a lowness but his unkind daughters.
	Is it the fashion, that discarded fathers
	Should have thus little mercy on their flesh?
	Judicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot
	Those pelican daughters.

EDGAR	Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill:
	Halloo, halloo, loo, loo!

Fool	This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

EDGAR	Take heed o' the foul fiend: obey thy parents;
	keep thy word justly; swear not; commit not with
	man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud
	array. Tom's a-cold.

KING LEAR	What hast thou been?

EDGAR	A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled
	my hair; wore gloves in my cap; served the lust of
	my mistress' heart, and did the act of darkness with
	her; swore as many oaths as I spake words, and
	broke them in the sweet face of heaven: one that
	slept in the contriving of lust, and waked to do it:
	wine loved I deeply, dice dearly: and in woman
	out-paramoured the Turk: false of heart, light of
	ear, bloody of hand; hog in sloth, fox in stealth,
	wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
	Let not the creaking of shoes nor the rustling of
	silks betray thy poor heart to woman: keep thy foot
	out of brothels, thy hand out of plackets, thy pen
	from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend.
	Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind:
	Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny.
	Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by.

	[Storm still]

KING LEAR	Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer
	with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies.
	Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou
	owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep
	no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on
	's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself:
	unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor bare,
	forked animal as thou art. Off, off, you lendings!
	come unbutton here.

	[Tearing off his clothes]

Fool	Prithee, nuncle, be contented; 'tis a naughty night
	to swim in. Now a little fire in a wild field were
	like an old lecher's heart; a small spark, all the
	rest on's body cold. Look, here comes a walking fire.

	[Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch]

EDGAR	This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: he begins
	at curfew, and walks till the first cock; he gives
	the web and the pin, squints the eye, and makes the
	hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the
	poor creature of earth.
	S. Withold footed thrice the old;
	He met the night-mare, and her nine-fold;
	Bid her alight,
	And her troth plight,
	And, aroint thee, witch, aroint thee!

KENT	How fares your grace?

KING LEAR	What's he?

KENT	Who's there? What is't you seek?

GLOUCESTER	What are you there? Your names?

EDGAR	Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad,
	the tadpole, the wall-newt and the water; that in
	the fury of his heart, when the foul fiend rages,
	eats cow-dung for sallets; swallows the old rat and
	the ditch-dog; drinks the green mantle of the
	standing pool; who is whipped from tithing to
	tithing, and stock- punished, and imprisoned; who
	hath had three suits to his back, six shirts to his
	body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear;
	But mice and rats, and such small deer,
	Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
	Beware my follower. Peace, Smulkin; peace, thou fiend!

GLOUCESTER	What, hath your grace no better company?

EDGAR	The prince of darkness is a gentleman:
	Modo he's call'd, and Mahu.

GLOUCESTER	Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord,
	That it doth hate what gets it.

EDGAR	Poor Tom's a-cold.

GLOUCESTER	Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer
	To obey in all your daughters' hard commands:
	Though their injunction be to bar my doors,
	And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you,
	Yet have I ventured to come seek you out,
	And bring you where both fire and food is ready.

KING LEAR	First let me talk with this philosopher.
	What is the cause of thunder?

KENT	Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house.

KING LEAR	I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.
	What is your study?

EDGAR	How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin.

KING LEAR	Let me ask you one word in private.

KENT	Importune him once more to go, my lord;
	His wits begin to unsettle.

GLOUCESTER	Canst thou blame him?

	[Storm still]

	His daughters seek his death: ah, that good Kent!
	He said it would be thus, poor banish'd man!
	Thou say'st the king grows mad; I'll tell thee, friend,
	I am almost mad myself: I had a son,
	Now outlaw'd from my blood; he sought my life,
	But lately, very late: I loved him, friend;
	No father his son dearer: truth to tell thee,
	The grief hath crazed my wits. What a night's this!
	I do beseech your grace,--

KING LEAR	O, cry your mercy, sir.
	Noble philosopher, your company.

EDGAR	Tom's a-cold.

GLOUCESTER	In, fellow, there, into the hovel: keep thee warm.

KING LEAR	Come let's in all.

KENT	                  This way, my lord.

KING LEAR	With him;
	I will keep still with my philosopher.

KENT	Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow.

GLOUCESTER	Take him you on.

KENT	Sirrah, come on; go along with us.

KING LEAR	Come, good Athenian.

GLOUCESTER	No words, no words: hush.

EDGAR	      Child Rowland to the dark tower came,
	His word was still,--Fie, foh, and fum,
	I smell the blood of a British man.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE V	Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter CORNWALL and EDMUND]

CORNWALL	I will have my revenge ere I depart his house.

EDMUND	How, my lord, I may be censured, that nature thus
	gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think
	of.

CORNWALL	I now perceive, it was not altogether your
	brother's evil disposition made him seek his death;
	but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reprovable
	badness in himself.

EDMUND	How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to
	be just! This is the letter he spoke of, which
	approves him an intelligent party to the advantages
	of France: O heavens! that this treason were not,
	or not I the detector!

CORNWALL	o with me to the duchess.

EDMUND	If the matter of this paper be certain, you have
	mighty business in hand.

CORNWALL	True or false, it hath made thee earl of
	Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, that he
	may be ready for our apprehension.

EDMUND	[Aside]  If I find him comforting the king, it will
	stuff his suspicion more fully.--I will persevere in
	my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore
	between that and my blood.

CORNWALL	I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a
	dearer father in my love.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE VI	A chamber in a farmhouse adjoining the castle.


	[Enter GLOUCESTER, KING LEAR, KENT, Fool, and EDGAR]

GLOUCESTER	Here is better than the open air; take it
	thankfully. I will piece out the comfort with what
	addition I can: I will not be long from you.

KENT	All the power of his wits have given way to his
	impatience: the gods reward your kindness!

	[Exit GLOUCESTER]

EDGAR	Frateretto calls me; and tells me
	Nero is an angler in the lake of darkness.
	Pray, innocent, and beware the foul fiend.

Fool	Prithee, nuncle, tell me whether a madman be a
	gentleman or a yeoman?

KING LEAR	A king, a king!

Fool	No, he's a yeoman that has a gentleman to his son;
	for he's a mad yeoman that sees his son a gentleman
	before him.

KING LEAR	To have a thousand with red burning spits
	Come hissing in upon 'em,--

EDGAR	The foul fiend bites my back.

Fool	He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf, a
	horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath.

KING LEAR	It shall be done; I will arraign them straight.

	[To EDGAR]

	Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;

	[To the Fool]

	Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes!

EDGAR	   Look, where he stands and glares!
	Wantest thou eyes at trial, madam?
	Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,--

Fool	   Her boat hath a leak,
	And she must not speak
	Why she dares not come over to thee.

EDGAR	The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the voice of a
	nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two
	white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no
	food for thee.

KENT	How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed:
	Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions?

KING LEAR	I'll see their trial first. Bring in the evidence.

	[To EDGAR]

	Thou robed man of justice, take thy place;

	[To the Fool]

	And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
	Bench by his side:

	[To KENT]

	you are o' the commission,
	Sit you too.

EDGAR	Let us deal justly.
	Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd?
	Thy sheep be in the corn;
	And for one blast of thy minikin mouth,
	Thy sheep shall take no harm.
	Pur! the cat is gray.

KING LEAR	Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my
	oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the
	poor king her father.

Fool	Come hither, mistress. Is your name Goneril?

KING LEAR	She cannot deny it.

Fool	Cry you mercy, I took you for a joint-stool.

KING LEAR	And here's another, whose warp'd looks proclaim
	What store her heart is made on. Stop her there!
	Arms, arms, sword, fire! Corruption in the place!
	False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape?

EDGAR	Bless thy five wits!

KENT	O pity! Sir, where is the patience now,
	That thou so oft have boasted to retain?

EDGAR	[Aside]  My tears begin to take his part so much,
	They'll mar my counterfeiting.

KING LEAR	The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and
	Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.

EDGAR	Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs!
	Be thy mouth or black or white,
	Tooth that poisons if it bite;
	Mastiff, grey-hound, mongrel grim,
	Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,
	Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail,
	Tom will make them weep and wail:
	For, with throwing thus my head,
	Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled.
	Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and
	fairs and market-towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry.

KING LEAR	Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds
	about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that
	makes these hard hearts?

	[To EDGAR]

	You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I
	do not like the fashion of your garments: you will
	say they are Persian attire: but let them be changed.

KENT	Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile.

KING LEAR	Make no noise, make no noise; draw the curtains:
	so, so, so. We'll go to supper i' he morning. So, so, so.

Fool	And I'll go to bed at noon.

	[Re-enter GLOUCESTER]

GLOUCESTER	Come hither, friend: where is the king my master?

KENT	Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone.

GLOUCESTER	Good friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms;
	I have o'erheard a plot of death upon him:
	There is a litter ready; lay him in 't,
	And drive towards Dover, friend, where thou shalt meet
	Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master:
	If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life,
	With thine, and all that offer to defend him,
	Stand in assured loss: take up, take up;
	And follow me, that will to some provision
	Give thee quick conduct.

KENT	Oppressed nature sleeps:
	This rest might yet have balm'd thy broken senses,
	Which, if convenience will not allow,
	Stand in hard cure.

	[To the Fool]

	Come, help to bear thy master;
	Thou must not stay behind.

GLOUCESTER	Come, come, away.

	[Exeunt all but EDGAR]

EDGAR	When we our betters see bearing our woes,
	We scarcely think our miseries our foes.
	Who alone suffers suffers most i' the mind,
	Leaving free things and happy shows behind:
	But then the mind much sufferance doth o'er skip,
	When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship.
	How light and portable my pain seems now,
	When that which makes me bend makes the king bow,
	He childed as I father'd! Tom, away!
	Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray,
	When false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee,
	In thy just proof, repeals and reconciles thee.
	What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the king!
	Lurk, lurk.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT III



SCENE VII	Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, EDMUND, and Servants]

CORNWALL	Post speedily to my lord your husband; show him
	this letter: the army of France is landed. Seek
	out the villain Gloucester.

	[Exeunt some of the Servants]

REGAN	Hang him instantly.

GONERIL	Pluck out his eyes.

CORNWALL	Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep you our
	sister company: the revenges we are bound to take
	upon your traitorous father are not fit for your
	beholding. Advise the duke, where you are going, to
	a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the
	like. Our posts shall be swift and intelligent
	betwixt us. Farewell, dear sister: farewell, my
	lord of Gloucester.

	[Enter OSWALD]

	How now! where's the king?

OSWALD	My lord of Gloucester hath convey'd him hence:
	Some five or six and thirty of his knights,
	Hot questrists after him, met him at gate;
	Who, with some other of the lords dependants,
	Are gone with him towards Dover; where they boast
	To have well-armed friends.

CORNWALL	Get horses for your mistress.

GONERIL	Farewell, sweet lord, and sister.

CORNWALL	Edmund, farewell.

	[Exeunt GONERIL, EDMUND, and OSWALD]

	Go seek the traitor Gloucester,
	Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us.

	[Exeunt other Servants]

	Though well we may not pass upon his life
	Without the form of justice, yet our power
	Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men
	May blame, but not control. Who's there? the traitor?

	[Enter GLOUCESTER, brought in by two or three]

REGAN	Ingrateful fox! 'tis he.

CORNWALL	Bind fast his corky arms.

GLOUCESTER	What mean your graces? Good my friends, consider
	You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends.

CORNWALL	Bind him, I say.

	[Servants bind him]

REGAN	                  Hard, hard. O filthy traitor!

GLOUCESTER	Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none.

CORNWALL	To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find--

	[REGAN plucks his beard]

GLOUCESTER	By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done
	To pluck me by the beard.

REGAN	So white, and such a traitor!

GLOUCESTER	Naughty lady,
	These hairs, which thou dost ravish from my chin,
	Will quicken, and accuse thee: I am your host:
	With robbers' hands my hospitable favours
	You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?

CORNWALL	Come, sir, what letters had you late from France?

REGAN	Be simple answerer, for we know the truth.

CORNWALL	And what confederacy have you with the traitors
	Late footed in the kingdom?

REGAN	To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak.

GLOUCESTER	I have a letter guessingly set down,
	Which came from one that's of a neutral heart,
	And not from one opposed.

CORNWALL	Cunning.

REGAN	And false.

CORNWALL	Where hast thou sent the king?

GLOUCESTER	To Dover.

REGAN	Wherefore to Dover? Wast thou not charged at peril--

CORNWALL	Wherefore to Dover? Let him first answer that.

GLOUCESTER	I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.

REGAN	Wherefore to Dover, sir?

GLOUCESTER	Because I would not see thy cruel nails
	Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy fierce sister
	In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs.
	The sea, with such a storm as his bare head
	In hell-black night endured, would have buoy'd up,
	And quench'd the stelled fires:
	Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain.
	If wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time,
	Thou shouldst have said 'Good porter, turn the key,'
	All cruels else subscribed: but I shall see
	The winged vengeance overtake such children.

CORNWALL	See't shalt thou never. Fellows, hold the chair.
	Upon these eyes of thine I'll set my foot.

GLOUCESTER	He that will think to live till he be old,
	Give me some help! O cruel! O you gods!

REGAN	One side will mock another; the other too.

CORNWALL	If you see vengeance,--

First Servant	Hold your hand, my lord:
	I have served you ever since I was a child;
	But better service have I never done you
	Than now to bid you hold.

REGAN	How now, you dog!

First Servant	If you did wear a beard upon your chin,
	I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean?

CORNWALL	My villain!

	[They draw and fight]

First Servant	Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger.

REGAN	Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus!

	[Takes a sword, and runs at him behind]

First Servant	O, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left
	To see some mischief on him. O!

	[Dies]

CORNWALL	Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly!
	Where is thy lustre now?

GLOUCESTER	All dark and comfortless. Where's my son Edmund?
	Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature,
	To quit this horrid act.

REGAN	Out, treacherous villain!
	Thou call'st on him that hates thee: it was he
	That made the overture of thy treasons to us;
	Who is too good to pity thee.

GLOUCESTER	O my follies! then Edgar was abused.
	Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!

REGAN	Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell
	His way to Dover.

	[Exit one with GLOUCESTER]

	How is't, my lord? how look you?

CORNWALL	I have received a hurt: follow me, lady.
	Turn out that eyeless villain; throw this slave
	Upon the dunghill. Regan, I bleed apace:
	Untimely comes this hurt: give me your arm.

	[Exit CORNWALL, led by REGAN]

Second Servant	I'll never care what wickedness I do,
	If this man come to good.

Third Servant	If she live long,
	And in the end meet the old course of death,
	Women will all turn monsters.

Second Servant	Let's follow the old earl, and get the Bedlam
	To lead him where he would: his roguish madness
	Allows itself to any thing.

Third Servant	Go thou: I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs
	To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him!

	[Exeunt severally]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE I	The heath.


	[Enter EDGAR]

EDGAR	Yet better thus, and known to be contemn'd,
	Than still contemn'd and flatter'd. To be worst,
	The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune,
	Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear:
	The lamentable change is from the best;
	The worst returns to laughter. Welcome, then,
	Thou unsubstantial air that I embrace!
	The wretch that thou hast blown unto the worst
	Owes nothing to thy blasts. But who comes here?

	[Enter GLOUCESTER, led by an Old Man]

	My father, poorly led? World, world, O world!
	But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
	Lie would not yield to age.

Old Man	O, my good lord, I have been your tenant, and
	your father's tenant, these fourscore years.

GLOUCESTER	Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone:
	Thy comforts can do me no good at all;
	Thee they may hurt.

Old Man	Alack, sir, you cannot see your way.

GLOUCESTER	I have no way, and therefore want no eyes;
	I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen,
	Our means secure us, and our mere defects
	Prove our commodities. O dear son Edgar,
	The food of thy abused father's wrath!
	Might I but live to see thee in my touch,
	I'ld say I had eyes again!

Old Man	How now! Who's there?

EDGAR	[Aside]  O gods! Who is't can say 'I am at
	the worst'?
	I am worse than e'er I was.

Old Man	'Tis poor mad Tom.

EDGAR	[Aside]  And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
	So long as we can say  'This is the worst.'

Old Man	Fellow, where goest?

GLOUCESTER	Is it a beggar-man?

Old Man	Madman and beggar too.

GLOUCESTER	He has some reason, else he could not beg.
	I' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw;
	Which made me think a man a worm: my son
	Came then into my mind; and yet my mind
	Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard
	more since.
	As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods.
	They kill us for their sport.

EDGAR	[Aside]	How should this be?
	Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow,
	Angering itself and others.--Bless thee, master!

GLOUCESTER	Is that the naked fellow?

Old Man	Ay, my lord.

GLOUCESTER	Then, prithee, get thee gone: if, for my sake,
	Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain,
	I' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love;
	And bring some covering for this naked soul,
	Who I'll entreat to lead me.

Old Man	Alack, sir, he is mad.

GLOUCESTER	'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.
	Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure;
	Above the rest, be gone.

Old Man	I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have,
	Come on't what will.

	[Exit]

GLOUCESTER	Sirrah, naked fellow,--

EDGAR	Poor Tom's a-cold.

	[Aside]

	I cannot daub it further.

GLOUCESTER	Come hither, fellow.

EDGAR	[Aside]  And yet I must.--Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed.

GLOUCESTER	Know'st thou the way to Dover?

EDGAR	Both stile and gate, horse-way and foot-path. Poor
	Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless
	thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! five
	fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as
	Obidicut; Hobbididence, prince of dumbness; Mahu, of
	stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigibbet, of
	mopping and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids
	and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master!

GLOUCESTER	Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues
	Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched
	Makes thee the happier: heavens, deal so still!
	Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man,
	That slaves your ordinance, that will not see
	Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly;
	So distribution should undo excess,
	And each man have enough. Dost thou know Dover?

EDGAR	Ay, master.

GLOUCESTER	There is a cliff, whose high and bending head
	Looks fearfully in the confined deep:
	Bring me but to the very brim of it,
	And I'll repair the misery thou dost bear
	With something rich about me: from that place
	I shall no leading need.

EDGAR	Give me thy arm:
	Poor Tom shall lead thee.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE II	Before ALBANY's palace.


	[Enter GONERIL and EDMUND]

GONERIL	Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband
	Not met us on the way.

	[Enter OSWALD]

		 Now, where's your master'?

OSWALD	Madam, within; but never man so changed.
	I told him of the army that was landed;
	He smiled at it: I told him you were coming:
	His answer was 'The worse:' of Gloucester's treachery,
	And of the loyal service of his son,
	When I inform'd him, then he call'd me sot,
	And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out:
	What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him;
	What like, offensive.

GONERIL	[To EDMUND]  Then shall you go no further.
	It is the cowish terror of his spirit,
	That dares not undertake: he'll not feel wrongs
	Which tie him to an answer. Our wishes on the way
	May prove effects. Back, Edmund, to my brother;
	Hasten his musters and conduct his powers:
	I must change arms at home, and give the distaff
	Into my husband's hands. This trusty servant
	Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear,
	If you dare venture in your own behalf,
	A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech;

	[Giving a favour]

	Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak,
	Would stretch thy spirits up into the air:
	Conceive, and fare thee well.

EDMUND	Yours in the ranks of death.

GONERIL	My most dear Gloucester!

	[Exit EDMUND]

	O, the difference of man and man!
	To thee a woman's services are due:
	My fool usurps my body.

OSWALD	Madam, here comes my lord.

	[Exit]

	[Enter ALBANY]

GONERIL	I have been worth the whistle.

ALBANY	O Goneril!
	You are not worth the dust which the rude wind
	Blows in your face. I fear your disposition:
	That nature, which contemns its origin,
	Cannot be border'd certain in itself;
	She that herself will sliver and disbranch
	From her material sap, perforce must wither
	And come to deadly use.

GONERIL	No more; the text is foolish.

ALBANY	Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile:
	Filths savour but themselves. What have you done?
	Tigers, not daughters, what have you perform'd?
	A father, and a gracious aged man,
	Whose reverence even the head-lugg'd bear would lick,
	Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded.
	Could my good brother suffer you to do it?
	A man, a prince, by him so benefited!
	If that the heavens do not their visible spirits
	Send quickly down to tame these vile offences,
	It will come,
	Humanity must perforce prey on itself,
	Like monsters of the deep.

GONERIL	Milk-liver'd man!
	That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs;
	Who hast not in thy brows an eye discerning
	Thine honour from thy suffering; that not know'st
	Fools do those villains pity who are punish'd
	Ere they have done their mischief. Where's thy drum?
	France spreads his banners in our noiseless land;
	With plumed helm thy slayer begins threats;
	Whiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and criest
	'Alack, why does he so?'

ALBANY	See thyself, devil!
	Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
	So horrid as in woman.

GONERIL	O vain fool!

ALBANY	Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shame,
	Be-monster not thy feature. Were't my fitness
	To let these hands obey my blood,
	They are apt enough to dislocate and tear
	Thy flesh and bones: howe'er thou art a fiend,
	A woman's shape doth shield thee.

GONERIL	Marry, your manhood now--

	[Enter a Messenger]

ALBANY	What news?

Messenger	O, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead:
	Slain by his servant, going to put out
	The other eye of Gloucester.

ALBANY	Gloucester's eye!

Messenger	A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse,
	Opposed against the act, bending his sword
	To his great master; who, thereat enraged,
	Flew on him, and amongst them fell'd him dead;
	But not without that harmful stroke, which since
	Hath pluck'd him after.

ALBANY	This shows you are above,
	You justicers, that these our nether crimes
	So speedily can venge! But, O poor Gloucester!
	Lost he his other eye?

Messenger	Both, both, my lord.
	This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer;
	'Tis from your sister.

GONERIL	[Aside]              One way I like this well;
	But being widow, and my Gloucester with her,
	May all the building in my fancy pluck
	Upon my hateful life: another way,
	The news is not so tart.--I'll read, and answer.

	[Exit]

ALBANY	Where was his son when they did take his eyes?

Messenger	Come with my lady hither.

ALBANY	He is not here.

Messenger	No, my good lord; I met him back again.

ALBANY	Knows he the wickedness?

Messenger	Ay, my good lord; 'twas he inform'd against him;
	And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment
	Might have the freer course.

ALBANY	Gloucester, I live
	To thank thee for the love thou show'dst the king,
	And to revenge thine eyes. Come hither, friend:
	Tell me what more thou know'st.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE III	The French camp near Dover.


	[Enter KENT and a Gentleman]

KENT	Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back
	know you the reason?

Gentleman	Something he left imperfect in the
	state, which since his coming forth is thought
	of; which imports to the kingdom so much
	fear and danger, that his personal return was
	most required and necessary.

KENT	Who hath he left behind him general?

Gentleman	The Marshal of France, Monsieur La Far.

KENT	Did your letters pierce the queen to any
	demonstration of grief?

Gentleman	Ay, sir; she took them, read them in my presence;
	And now and then an ample tear trill'd down
	Her delicate cheek: it seem'd she was a queen
	Over her passion; who, most rebel-like,
	Sought to be king o'er her.

KENT	O, then it moved her.

Gentleman	Not to a rage: patience and sorrow strove
	Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
	Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
	Were like a better way: those happy smilets,
	That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
	What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
	As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief,
	Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved,
	If all could so become it.

KENT	Made she no verbal question?

Gentleman	'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of 'father'
	Pantingly forth, as if it press'd her heart:
	Cried 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters!
	Kent! father! sisters! What, i' the storm? i' the night?
	Let pity not be believed!' There she shook
	The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
	And clamour moisten'd: then away she started
	To deal with grief alone.

KENT	It is the stars,
	The stars above us, govern our conditions;
	Else one self mate and mate could not beget
	Such different issues. You spoke not with her since?

Gentleman	No.

KENT	Was this before the king return'd?

Gentleman	No, since.

KENT	Well, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' the town;
	Who sometime, in his better tune, remembers
	What we are come about, and by no means
	Will yield to see his daughter.

Gentleman	Why, good sir?

KENT	A sovereign shame so elbows him: his own unkindness,
	That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her
	To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights
	To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting
	His mind so venomously, that burning shame
	Detains him from Cordelia.

Gentleman	Alack, poor gentleman!

KENT	Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not?

Gentleman	'Tis so, they are afoot.

KENT	Well, sir, I'll bring you to our master Lear,
	And leave you to attend him: some dear cause
	Will in concealment wrap me up awhile;
	When I am known aright, you shall not grieve
	Lending me this acquaintance. I pray you, go
	Along with me.

	[Exeunt]



	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE IV	The same. A tent.


	[Enter, with drum and colours, CORDELIA, Doctor, and Soldiers]

CORDELIA	Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now
	As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud;
	Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds,
	With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers,
	Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
	In our sustaining corn. A century send forth;
	Search every acre in the high-grown field,
	And bring him to our eye.

	[Exit an Officer]

		    What can man's wisdom
	In the restoring his bereaved sense?
	He that helps him take all my outward worth.

Doctor	There is means, madam:
	Our foster-nurse of nature is repose,
	The which he lacks; that to provoke in him,
	Are many simples operative, whose power
	Will close the eye of anguish.

CORDELIA	All blest secrets,
	All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth,
	Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate
	In the good man's distress! Seek, seek for him;
	Lest his ungovern'd rage dissolve the life
	That wants the means to lead it.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	News, madam;
	The British powers are marching hitherward.

CORDELIA	'Tis known before; our preparation stands
	In expectation of them. O dear father,
	It is thy business that I go about;
	Therefore great France
	My mourning and important tears hath pitied.
	No blown ambition doth our arms incite,
	But love, dear love, and our aged father's right:
	Soon may I hear and see him!

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE V	Gloucester's castle.


	[Enter REGAN and OSWALD]

REGAN	But are my brother's powers set forth?

OSWALD	Ay, madam.

REGAN	Himself in person there?

OSWALD	Madam, with much ado:
	Your sister is the better soldier.

REGAN	Lord Edmund spake not with your lord at home?

OSWALD	No, madam.

REGAN	What might import my sister's letter to him?

OSWALD	I know not, lady.

REGAN	'Faith, he is posted hence on serious matter.
	It was great ignorance, Gloucester's eyes being out,
	To let him live: where he arrives he moves
	All hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone,
	In pity of his misery, to dispatch
	His nighted life: moreover, to descry
	The strength o' the enemy.

OSWALD	I must needs after him, madam, with my letter.

REGAN	Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us;
	The ways are dangerous.

OSWALD	I may not, madam:
	My lady charged my duty in this business.

REGAN	Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you
	Transport her purposes by word? Belike,
	Something--I know not what: I'll love thee much,
	Let me unseal the letter.

OSWALD	Madam, I had rather--

REGAN	I know your lady does not love her husband;
	I am sure of that: and at her late being here
	She gave strange oeillades and most speaking looks
	To noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosom.

OSWALD	I, madam?

REGAN	I speak in understanding; you are; I know't:
	Therefore I do advise you, take this note:
	My lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd;
	And more convenient is he for my hand
	Than for your lady's: you may gather more.
	If you do find him, pray you, give him this;
	And when your mistress hears thus much from you,
	I pray, desire her call her wisdom to her.
	So, fare you well.
	If you do chance to hear of that blind traitor,
	Preferment falls on him that cuts him off.

OSWALD	Would I could meet him, madam! I should show
	What party I do follow.

REGAN	Fare thee well.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE VI	Fields near Dover.


	[Enter GLOUCESTER, and EDGAR dressed like a peasant]

GLOUCESTER	When shall we come to the top of that same hill?

EDGAR	You do climb up it now: look, how we labour.

GLOUCESTER	Methinks the ground is even.

EDGAR	Horrible steep.
	Hark, do you hear the sea?

GLOUCESTER	No, truly.

EDGAR	Why, then, your other senses grow imperfect
	By your eyes' anguish.

GLOUCESTER	So may it be, indeed:
	Methinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st
	In better phrase and matter than thou didst.

EDGAR	You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed
	But in my garments.

GLOUCESTER	Methinks you're better spoken.

EDGAR	Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful
	And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low!
	The crows and choughs that wing the midway air
	Show scarce so gross as beetles: half way down
	Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
	Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:
	The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
	Appear like mice; and yond tall anchoring bark,
	Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy
	Almost too small for sight: the murmuring surge,
	That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
	Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more;
	Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight
	Topple down headlong.

GLOUCESTER	Set me where you stand.

EDGAR	Give me your hand: you are now within a foot
	Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon
	Would I not leap upright.

GLOUCESTER	Let go my hand.
	Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel
	Well worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods
	Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off;
	Bid me farewell, and let me hear thee going.

EDGAR	Now fare you well, good sir.

GLOUCESTER	With all my heart.

EDGAR	Why I do trifle thus with his despair
	Is done to cure it.

GLOUCESTER	[Kneeling]  O you mighty gods!
	This world I do renounce, and, in your sights,
	Shake patiently my great affliction off:
	If I could bear it longer, and not fall
	To quarrel with your great opposeless wills,
	My snuff and loathed part of nature should
	Burn itself out. If Edgar live, O, bless him!
	Now, fellow, fare thee well.

	[He falls forward]

EDGAR	Gone, sir: farewell.
	And yet I know not how conceit may rob
	The treasury of life, when life itself
	Yields to the theft: had he been where he thought,
	By this, had thought been past. Alive or dead?
	Ho, you sir! friend! Hear you, sir! speak!
	Thus might he pass indeed: yet he revives.
	What are you, sir?

GLOUCESTER	                  Away, and let me die.

EDGAR	Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air,
	So many fathom down precipitating,
	Thou'dst shiver'd like an egg: but thou dost breathe;
	Hast heavy substance; bleed'st not; speak'st; art sound.
	Ten masts at each make not the altitude
	Which thou hast perpendicularly fell:
	Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again.

GLOUCESTER	But have I fall'n, or no?

EDGAR	From the dread summit of this chalky bourn.
	Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far
	Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up.

GLOUCESTER	Alack, I have no eyes.
	Is wretchedness deprived that benefit,
	To end itself by death? 'Twas yet some comfort,
	When misery could beguile the tyrant's rage,
	And frustrate his proud will.

EDGAR	Give me your arm:
	Up: so. How is 't? Feel you your legs? You stand.

GLOUCESTER	Too well, too well.

EDGAR	This is above all strangeness.
	Upon the crown o' the cliff, what thing was that
	Which parted from you?

GLOUCESTER	A poor unfortunate beggar.

EDGAR	As I stood here below, methought his eyes
	Were two full moons; he had a thousand noses,
	Horns whelk'd and waved like the enridged sea:
	It was some fiend; therefore, thou happy father,
	Think that the clearest gods, who make them honours
	Of men's impossibilities, have preserved thee.

GLOUCESTER	I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear
	Affliction till it do cry out itself
	'Enough, enough,' and die. That thing you speak of,
	I took it for a man; often 'twould say
	'The fiend, the fiend:' he led me to that place.

EDGAR	Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here?

	[Enter KING LEAR, fantastically dressed with wild flowers]

	The safer sense will ne'er accommodate
	His master thus.

KING LEAR	No, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the
	king himself.

EDGAR	O thou side-piercing sight!

KING LEAR	Nature's above art in that respect. There's your
	press-money. That fellow handles his bow like a
	crow-keeper: draw me a clothier's yard. Look,
	look, a mouse! Peace, peace; this piece of toasted
	cheese will do 't. There's my gauntlet; I'll prove
	it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. O, well
	flown, bird! i' the clout, i' the clout: hewgh!
	Give the word.

EDGAR	Sweet marjoram.

KING LEAR	Pass.

GLOUCESTER	I know that voice.

KING LEAR	Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered
	me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my
	beard ere the black ones were there. To say 'ay'
	and 'no' to every thing that I said!--'Ay' and 'no'
	too was no good divinity. When the rain came to
	wet me once, and the wind to make me chatter; when
	the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I
	found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go to, they are
	not men o' their words: they told me I was every
	thing; 'tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.

GLOUCESTER	The trick of that voice I do well remember:
	Is 't not the king?

KING LEAR	Ay, every inch a king:
	When I do stare, see how the subject quakes.
	I pardon that man's life. What was thy cause? Adultery?
	Thou shalt not die: die for adultery! No:
	The wren goes to 't, and the small gilded fly
	Does lecher in my sight.
	Let copulation thrive; for Gloucester's bastard son
	Was kinder to his father than my daughters
	Got 'tween the lawful sheets.
	To 't, luxury, pell-mell! for I lack soldiers.
	Behold yond simpering dame,
	Whose face between her forks presages snow;
	That minces virtue, and does shake the head
	To hear of pleasure's name;
	The fitchew, nor the soiled horse, goes to 't
	With a more riotous appetite.
	Down from the waist they are Centaurs,
	Though women all above:
	But to the girdle do the gods inherit,
	Beneath is all the fiends';
	There's hell, there's darkness, there's the
	sulphurous pit,
	Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie,
	fie, fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet,
	good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination:
	there's money for thee.

GLOUCESTER	O, let me kiss that hand!

KING LEAR	Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.

GLOUCESTER	O ruin'd piece of nature! This great world
	Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know me?

KING LEAR	I remember thine eyes well enough. Dost thou squiny
	at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid! I'll not
	love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the
	penning of it.

GLOUCESTER	Were all the letters suns, I could not see one.

EDGAR	I would not take this from report; it is,
	And my heart breaks at it.

KING LEAR	Read.

GLOUCESTER	What, with the case of eyes?

KING LEAR	O, ho, are you there with me? No eyes in your
	head, nor no money in your purse? Your eyes are in
	a heavy case, your purse in a light; yet you see how
	this world goes.

GLOUCESTER	I see it feelingly.

KING LEAR	What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes
	with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond
	justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in
	thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which
	is the justice, which is the thief? Thou hast seen
	a farmer's dog bark at a beggar?

GLOUCESTER	Ay, sir.

KING LEAR	And the creature run from the cur? There thou
	mightst behold the great image of authority: a
	dog's obeyed in office.
	Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand!
	Why dost thou lash that whore? Strip thine own back;
	Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind
	For which thou whipp'st her. The usurer hangs the cozener.
	Through tatter'd clothes small vices do appear;
	Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
	And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks:
	Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
	None does offend, none, I say, none; I'll able 'em:
	Take that of me, my friend, who have the power
	To seal the accuser's lips. Get thee glass eyes;
	And like a scurvy politician, seem
	To see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now:
	Pull off my boots: harder, harder: so.

EDGAR	O, matter and impertinency mix'd! Reason in madness!

KING LEAR	If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes.
	I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester:
	Thou must be patient; we came crying hither:
	Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the air,
	We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark.

GLOUCESTER	Alack, alack the day!

KING LEAR	When we are born, we cry that we are come
	To this great stage of fools: this a good block;
	It were a delicate stratagem, to shoe
	A troop of horse with felt: I'll put 't in proof;
	And when I have stol'n upon these sons-in-law,
	Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

	[Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants]

Gentleman	O, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir,
	Your most dear daughter--

KING LEAR	No rescue? What, a prisoner? I am even
	The natural fool of fortune. Use me well;
	You shall have ransom. Let me have surgeons;
	I am cut to the brains.

Gentleman	You shall have any thing.

KING LEAR	No seconds? all myself?
	Why, this would make a man a man of salt,
	To use his eyes for garden water-pots,
	Ay, and laying autumn's dust.

Gentleman	Good sir,--

KING LEAR	I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What!
	I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king,
	My masters, know you that.

Gentleman	You are a royal one, and we obey you.

KING LEAR	Then there's life in't. Nay, if you get it, you
	shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa.

	[Exit running; Attendants follow]

Gentleman	A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch,
	Past speaking of in a king! Thou hast one daughter,
	Who redeems nature from the general curse
	Which twain have brought her to.

EDGAR	Hail, gentle sir.

Gentleman	                  Sir, speed you: what's your will?

EDGAR	Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward?

Gentleman	Most sure and vulgar: every one hears that,
	Which can distinguish sound.

EDGAR	But, by your favour,
	How near's the other army?

Gentleman	Near and on speedy foot; the main descry
	Stands on the hourly thought.

EDGAR	I thank you, sir: that's all.

Gentleman	Though that the queen on special cause is here,
	Her army is moved on.

EDGAR	I thank you, sir.

	[Exit Gentleman]

GLOUCESTER	You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me:
	Let not my worser spirit tempt me again
	To die before you please!

EDGAR	Well pray you, father.

GLOUCESTER	Now, good sir, what are you?

EDGAR	A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows;
	Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
	Am pregnant to good pity. Give me your hand,
	I'll lead you to some biding.

GLOUCESTER	Hearty thanks:
	The bounty and the benison of heaven
	To boot, and boot!

	[Enter OSWALD]

OSWALD	A proclaim'd prize! Most happy!
	That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh
	To raise my fortunes. Thou old unhappy traitor,
	Briefly thyself remember: the sword is out
	That must destroy thee.

GLOUCESTER	Now let thy friendly hand
	Put strength enough to't.

	[EDGAR interposes]

OSWALD	Wherefore, bold peasant,
	Darest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence;
	Lest that the infection of his fortune take
	Like hold on thee. Let go his arm.

EDGAR	Ch'ill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.

OSWALD	Let go, slave, or thou diest!

EDGAR	Good gentleman, go your gait, and let poor volk
	pass. An chud ha' bin zwaggered out of my life,
	'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight.
	Nay, come not near th' old man; keep out, che vor
	ye, or ise try whether your costard or my ballow be
	the harder: ch'ill be plain with you.

OSWALD	Out, dunghill!

EDGAR	Ch'ill pick your teeth, zir: come; no matter vor
	your foins.

	[They fight, and EDGAR knocks him down]

OSWALD	Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse:
	If ever thou wilt thrive, bury my body;
	And give the letters which thou find'st about me
	To Edmund earl of Gloucester; seek him out
	Upon the British party: O, untimely death!

	[Dies]

EDGAR	I know thee well: a serviceable villain;
	As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
	As badness would desire.

GLOUCESTER	What, is he dead?

EDGAR	Sit you down, father; rest you
	Let's see these pockets: the letters that he speaks of
	May be my friends. He's dead; I am only sorry
	He had no other death's-man. Let us see:
	Leave, gentle wax; and, manners, blame us not:
	To know our enemies' minds, we'ld rip their hearts;
	Their papers, is more lawful.

	[Reads]

	'Let our reciprocal vows be remembered. You have
	many opportunities to cut him off: if your will
	want not, time and place will be fruitfully offered.
	There is nothing done, if he return the conqueror:
	then am I the prisoner, and his bed my goal; from
	the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply
	the place for your labour.
		'Your--wife, so I would say--
		'Affectionate servant,
		'GONERIL.'
	O undistinguish'd space of woman's will!
	A plot upon her virtuous husband's life;
	And the exchange my brother! Here, in the sands,
	Thee I'll rake up, the post unsanctified
	Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time
	With this ungracious paper strike the sight
	Of the death practised duke: for him 'tis well
	That of thy death and business I can tell.

GLOUCESTER	The king is mad: how stiff is my vile sense,
	That I stand up, and have ingenious feeling
	Of my huge sorrows! Better I were distract:
	So should my thoughts be sever'd from my griefs,
	And woes by wrong imaginations lose
	The knowledge of themselves.

EDGAR	Give me your hand:

	[Drum afar off]

	Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum:
	Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT IV



SCENE VII	A tent in the French camp. LEAR on a bed asleep,
	soft music playing; Gentleman, and others attending.


	[Enter CORDELIA, KENT, and Doctor]

CORDELIA	O thou good Kent, how shall I live and work,
	To match thy goodness? My life will be too short,
	And every measure fail me.

KENT	To be acknowledged, madam, is o'erpaid.
	All my reports go with the modest truth;
	Nor more nor clipp'd, but so.

CORDELIA	Be better suited:
	These weeds are memories of those worser hours:
	I prithee, put them off.

KENT	Pardon me, dear madam;
	Yet to be known shortens my made intent:
	My boon I make it, that you know me not
	Till time and I think meet.

CORDELIA	Then be't so, my good lord.

	[To the Doctor]

		      How does the king?

Doctor	Madam, sleeps still.

CORDELIA	O you kind gods,
	Cure this great breach in his abused nature!
	The untuned and jarring senses, O, wind up
	Of this child-changed father!

Doctor	So please your majesty
	That we may wake the king: he hath slept long.

CORDELIA	Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed
	I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd?

Gentleman	Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep
	We put fresh garments on him.

Doctor	Be by, good madam, when we do awake him;
	I doubt not of his temperance.

CORDELIA	Very well.

Doctor	Please you, draw near. Louder the music there!

CORDELIA	O my dear father! Restoration hang
	Thy medicine on my lips; and let this kiss
	Repair those violent harms that my two sisters
	Have in thy reverence made!

KENT	Kind and dear princess!

CORDELIA	Had you not been their father, these white flakes
	Had challenged pity of them. Was this a face
	To be opposed against the warring winds?
	To stand against the deep dread-bolted thunder?
	In the most terrible and nimble stroke
	Of quick, cross lightning? to watch--poor perdu!--
	With this thin helm? Mine enemy's dog,
	Though he had bit me, should have stood that night
	Against my fire; and wast thou fain, poor father,
	To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn,
	In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
	'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once
	Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him.

Doctor	Madam, do you; 'tis fittest.

CORDELIA	How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty?

KING LEAR	You do me wrong to take me out o' the grave:
	Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
	Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
	Do scald like moulten lead.

CORDELIA	Sir, do you know me?

KING LEAR	You are a spirit, I know: when did you die?

CORDELIA	Still, still, far wide!

Doctor	He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile.

KING LEAR	Where have I been? Where am I? Fair daylight?
	I am mightily abused. I should e'en die with pity,
	To see another thus. I know not what to say.
	I will not swear these are my hands: let's see;
	I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured
	Of my condition!

CORDELIA	                  O, look upon me, sir,
	And hold your hands in benediction o'er me:
	No, sir, you must not kneel.

KING LEAR	Pray, do not mock me:
	I am a very foolish fond old man,
	Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less;
	And, to deal plainly,
	I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
	Methinks I should know you, and know this man;
	Yet I am doubtful for I am mainly ignorant
	What place this is; and all the skill I have
	Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
	Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me;
	For, as I am a man, I think this lady
	To be my child Cordelia.

CORDELIA	And so I am, I am.

KING LEAR	Be your tears wet? yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not:
	If you have poison for me, I will drink it.
	I know you do not love me; for your sisters
	Have, as I do remember, done me wrong:
	You have some cause, they have not.

CORDELIA	No cause, no cause.

KING LEAR	Am I in France?

KENT	                  In your own kingdom, sir.

KING LEAR	Do not abuse me.

Doctor	Be comforted, good madam: the great rage,
	You see, is kill'd in him: and yet it is danger
	To make him even o'er the time he has lost.
	Desire him to go in; trouble him no more
	Till further settling.

CORDELIA	Will't please your highness walk?

KING LEAR	You must bear with me:
	Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.

	[Exeunt all but KENT and Gentleman]

Gentleman	Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain?

KENT	Most certain, sir.

Gentleman	Who is conductor of his people?

KENT	As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester.

Gentleman	They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl
	of Kent in Germany.

KENT	Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the
	powers of the kingdom approach apace.

Gentleman	The arbitrement is like to be bloody. Fare you
	well, sir.

	[Exit]

KENT	My point and period will be throughly wrought,
	Or well or ill, as this day's battle's fought.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT V



SCENE I	The British camp, near Dover.


	[Enter, with drum and colours, EDMUND, REGAN,
	Gentlemen, and Soldiers.

EDMUND	Know of the duke if his last purpose hold,
	Or whether since he is advised by aught
	To change the course: he's full of alteration
	And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure.

	[To a Gentleman, who goes out]

REGAN	Our sister's man is certainly miscarried.

EDMUND	'Tis to be doubted, madam.

REGAN	Now, sweet lord,
	You know the goodness I intend upon you:
	Tell me--but truly--but then speak the truth,
	Do you not love my sister?

EDMUND	In honour'd love.

REGAN	But have you never found my brother's way
	To the forfended place?

EDMUND	That thought abuses you.

REGAN	I am doubtful that you have been conjunct
	And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers.

EDMUND	No, by mine honour, madam.

REGAN	I never shall endure her: dear my lord,
	Be not familiar with her.

EDMUND	Fear me not:
	She and the duke her husband!

	[Enter, with drum and colours, ALBANY, GONERIL, and Soldiers]

GONERIL	[Aside]  I had rather lose the battle than that sister
	Should loosen him and me.

ALBANY	Our very loving sister, well be-met.
	Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter,
	With others whom the rigor of our state
	Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest,
	I never yet was valiant: for this business,
	It toucheth us, as France invades our land,
	Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear,
	Most just and heavy causes make oppose.

EDMUND	Sir, you speak nobly.

REGAN	Why is this reason'd?

GONERIL	Combine together 'gainst the enemy;
	For these domestic and particular broils
	Are not the question here.

ALBANY	Let's then determine
	With the ancient of war on our proceedings.

EDMUND	I shall attend you presently at your tent.

REGAN	Sister, you'll go with us?

GONERIL	No.

REGAN	'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us.

GONERIL	[Aside]  O, ho, I know the riddle.--I will go.

	[As they are going out, enter EDGAR disguised]

EDGAR	If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor,
	Hear me one word.

ALBANY	                  I'll overtake you. Speak.

	[Exeunt all but ALBANY and EDGAR]

EDGAR	Before you fight the battle, ope this letter.
	If you have victory, let the trumpet sound
	For him that brought it: wretched though I seem,
	I can produce a champion that will prove
	What is avouched there. If you miscarry,
	Your business of the world hath so an end,
	And machination ceases. Fortune love you.

ALBANY	Stay till I have read the letter.

EDGAR	I was forbid it.
	When time shall serve, let but the herald cry,
	And I'll appear again.

ALBANY	Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy paper.

	[Exit EDGAR]

	[Re-enter EDMUND]

EDMUND	The enemy's in view; draw up your powers.
	Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
	By diligent discovery; but your haste
	Is now urged on you.

ALBANY	We will greet the time.

	[Exit]

EDMUND	To both these sisters have I sworn my love;
	Each jealous of the other, as the stung
	Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take?
	Both? one? or neither? Neither can be enjoy'd,
	If both remain alive: to take the widow
	Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril;
	And hardly shall I carry out my side,
	Her husband being alive. Now then we'll use
	His countenance for the battle; which being done,
	Let her who would be rid of him devise
	His speedy taking off. As for the mercy
	Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia,
	The battle done, and they within our power,
	Shall never see his pardon; for my state
	Stands on me to defend, not to debate.

	[Exit]




	KING LEAR


ACT V



SCENE II	A field between the two camps.


	[Alarum within. Enter, with drum and colours,
	KING LEAR, CORDELIA, and Soldiers, over the stage;
	and exeunt]

	[Enter EDGAR and GLOUCESTER]

EDGAR	Here, father, take the shadow of this tree
	For your good host; pray that the right may thrive:
	If ever I return to you again,
	I'll bring you comfort.

GLOUCESTER	Grace go with you, sir!

	[Exit EDGAR]

	[Alarum and retreat within. Re-enter EDGAR]

EDGAR	Away, old man; give me thy hand; away!
	King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en:
	Give me thy hand; come on.

GLOUCESTER	No farther, sir; a man may rot even here.

EDGAR	What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure
	Their going hence, even as their coming hither;
	Ripeness is all: come on.

GLOUCESTER	And that's true too.

	[Exeunt]




	KING LEAR


ACT V



SCENE III	The British camp near Dover.


	[Enter, in conquest, with drum and colours, EDMUND,
	KING LEAR and CORDELIA, prisoners; Captain,
	Soldiers, &c]

EDMUND	Some officers take them away: good guard,
	Until their greater pleasures first be known
	That are to censure them.

CORDELIA	We are not the first
	Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst.
	For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down;
	Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown.
	Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?

KING LEAR	No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison:
	We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage:
	When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down,
	And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live,
	And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
	At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
	Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too,
	Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out;
	And take upon's the mystery of things,
	As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out,
	In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones,
	That ebb and flow by the moon.

EDMUND	Take them away.

KING LEAR	Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
	The gods themselves throw incense. Have I caught thee?
	He that parts us shall bring a brand from heaven,
	And fire us hence like foxes. Wipe thine eyes;
	The good-years shall devour them, flesh and fell,
	Ere they shall make us weep: we'll see 'em starve
	first. Come.

	[Exeunt KING LEAR and CORDELIA, guarded]

EDMUND	Come hither, captain; hark.
	Take thou this note;

	[Giving a paper]

		go follow them to prison:
	One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost
	As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way
	To noble fortunes: know thou this, that men
	Are as the time is: to be tender-minded
	Does not become a sword: thy great employment
	Will not bear question; either say thou'lt do 't,
	Or thrive by other means.

Captain	I'll do 't, my lord.

EDMUND	About it; and write happy when thou hast done.
	Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so
	As I have set it down.

Captain	I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oats;
	If it be man's work, I'll do 't.

	[Exit]

	[Flourish. Enter ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, another
	Captain, and Soldiers]

ALBANY	Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain,
	And fortune led you well: you have the captives
	That were the opposites of this day's strife:
	We do require them of you, so to use them
	As we shall find their merits and our safety
	May equally determine.

EDMUND	Sir, I thought it fit
	To send the old and miserable king
	To some retention and appointed guard;
	Whose age has charms in it, whose title more,
	To pluck the common bosom on his side,
	An turn our impress'd lances in our eyes
	Which do command them. With him I sent the queen;
	My reason all the same; and they are ready
	To-morrow, or at further space, to appear
	Where you shall hold your session. At this time
	We sweat and bleed: the friend hath lost his friend;
	And the best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed
	By those that feel their sharpness:
	The question of Cordelia and her father
	Requires a fitter place.

ALBANY	Sir, by your patience,
	I hold you but a subject of this war,
	Not as a brother.

REGAN	                  That's as we list to grace him.
	Methinks our pleasure might have been demanded,
	Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers;
	Bore the commission of my place and person;
	The which immediacy may well stand up,
	And call itself your brother.

GONERIL	Not so hot:
	In his own grace he doth exalt himself,
	More than in your addition.

REGAN	In my rights,
	By me invested, he compeers the best.

GONERIL	That were the most, if he should husband you.

REGAN	Jesters do oft prove prophets.

GONERIL	Holla, holla!
	That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint.

REGAN	Lady, I am not well; else I should answer
	From a full-flowing stomach. General,
	Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony;
	Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine:
	Witness the world, that I create thee here
	My lord and master.

GONERIL	Mean you to enjoy him?

ALBANY	The let-alone lies not in your good will.

EDMUND	Nor in thine, lord.

ALBANY	Half-blooded fellow, yes.

REGAN	[To EDMUND]  Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine.

ALBANY	Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee
	On capital treason; and, in thine attaint,
	This gilded serpent

	[Pointing to Goneril]

	For your claim, fair sister,
	I bar it in the interest of my wife:
	'Tis she is sub-contracted to this lord,
	And I, her husband, contradict your bans.
	If you will marry, make your loves to me,
	My lady is bespoke.

GONERIL	An interlude!

ALBANY	Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound:
	If none appear to prove upon thy head
	Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons,
	There is my pledge;

	[Throwing down a glove]

	I'll prove it on thy heart,
	Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less
	Than I have here proclaim'd thee.

REGAN	Sick, O, sick!

GONERIL	[Aside]  If not, I'll ne'er trust medicine.

EDMUND	There's my exchange:

	[Throwing down a glove]

		what in the world he is
	That names me traitor, villain-like he lies:
	Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach,
	On him, on you, who not? I will maintain
	My truth and honour firmly.

ALBANY	A herald, ho!

EDMUND	                  A herald, ho, a herald!

ALBANY	Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers,
	All levied in my name, have in my name
	Took their discharge.

REGAN	My sickness grows upon me.

ALBANY	She is not well; convey her to my tent.

	[Exit Regan, led]

	[Enter a Herald]

	Come hither, herald,--Let the trumpet sound,
	And read out this.

Captain	Sound, trumpet!

	[A trumpet sounds]

Herald	[Reads]  'If any man of quality or degree within
	the lists of the army will maintain upon Edmund,
	supposed Earl of Gloucester, that he is a manifold
	traitor, let him appear by the third sound of the
	trumpet: he is bold in his defence.'

EDMUND	Sound!

	[First trumpet]

Herald	Again!

	[Second trumpet]

Herald	Again!

	[Third trumpet]

	[Trumpet answers within]

	[Enter EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a
	trumpet before him]

ALBANY	Ask him his purposes, why he appears
	Upon this call o' the trumpet.

Herald	What are you?
	Your name, your quality? and why you answer
	This present summons?

EDGAR	Know, my name is lost;
	By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit:
	Yet am I noble as the adversary
	I come to cope.

ALBANY	                  Which is that adversary?

EDGAR	What's he that speaks for Edmund Earl of Gloucester?

EDMUND	Himself: what say'st thou to him?

EDGAR	Draw thy sword,
	That, if my speech offend a noble heart,
	Thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine.
	Behold, it is the privilege of mine honours,
	My oath, and my profession: I protest,
	Maugre thy strength, youth, place, and eminence,
	Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune,
	Thy valour and thy heart, thou art a traitor;
	False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father;
	Conspirant 'gainst this high-illustrious prince;
	And, from the extremest upward of thy head
	To the descent and dust below thy foot,
	A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou 'No,'
	This sword, this arm, and my best spirits, are bent
	To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak,
	Thou liest.

EDMUND	In wisdom I should ask thy name;
	But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike,
	And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes,
	What safe and nicely I might well delay
	By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn:
	Back do I toss these treasons to thy head;
	With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart;
	Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise,
	This sword of mine shall give them instant way,
	Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak!

	[Alarums. They fight. EDMUND falls]

ALBANY	Save him, save him!

GONERIL	This is practise, Gloucester:
	By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer
	An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd,
	But cozen'd and beguiled.

ALBANY	Shut your mouth, dame,
	Or with this paper shall I stop it: Hold, sir:
	Thou worse than any name, read thine own evil:
	No tearing, lady: I perceive you know it.

	[Gives the letter to EDMUND]

GONERIL	Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine:
	Who can arraign me for't.

ALBANY	Most monstrous! oh!
	Know'st thou this paper?

GONERIL	Ask me not what I know.

	[Exit]

ALBANY	Go after her: she's desperate; govern her.

EDMUND	What you have charged me with, that have I done;
	And more, much more; the time will bring it out:
	'Tis past, and so am I. But what art thou
	That hast this fortune on me? If thou'rt noble,
	I do forgive thee.

EDGAR	                  Let's exchange charity.
	I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund;
	If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me.
	My name is Edgar, and thy father's son.
	The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
	Make instruments to plague us:
	The dark and vicious place where thee he got
	Cost him his eyes.

EDMUND	                  Thou hast spoken right, 'tis true;
	The wheel is come full circle: I am here.

ALBANY	Methought thy very gait did prophesy
	A royal nobleness: I must embrace thee:
	Let sorrow split my heart, if ever I
	Did hate thee or thy father!

EDGAR	Worthy prince, I know't.

ALBANY	Where have you hid yourself?
	How have you known the miseries of your father?

EDGAR	By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale;
	And when 'tis told, O, that my heart would burst!
	The bloody proclamation to escape,
	That follow'd me so near,--O, our lives' sweetness!
	That we the pain of death would hourly die
	Rather than die at once!--taught me to shift
	Into a madman's rags; to assume a semblance
	That very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
	Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
	Their precious stones new lost: became his guide,
	Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair;
	Never,--O fault!--reveal'd myself unto him,
	Until some half-hour past, when I was arm'd:
	Not sure, though hoping, of this good success,
	I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last
	Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart,
	Alack, too weak the conflict to support!
	'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
	Burst smilingly.

EDMUND	This speech of yours hath moved me,
	And shall perchance do good: but speak you on;
	You look as you had something more to say.

ALBANY	If there be more, more woeful, hold it in;
	For I am almost ready to dissolve,
	Hearing of this.

EDGAR	                  This would have seem'd a period
	To such as love not sorrow; but another,
	To amplify too much, would make much more,
	And top extremity.
	Whilst I was big in clamour came there in a man,
	Who, having seen me in my worst estate,
	Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding
	Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms
	He fastened on my neck, and bellow'd out
	As he'ld burst heaven; threw him on my father;
	Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him
	That ever ear received: which in recounting
	His grief grew puissant and the strings of life
	Began to crack: twice then the trumpets sounded,
	And there I left him tranced.

ALBANY	But who was this?

EDGAR	Kent, sir, the banish'd Kent; who in disguise
	Follow'd his enemy king, and did him service
	Improper for a slave.

	[Enter a Gentleman, with a bloody knife]

Gentleman	Help, help, O, help!

EDGAR	What kind of help?

ALBANY	Speak, man.

EDGAR	What means that bloody knife?

Gentleman	'Tis hot, it smokes;
	It came even from the heart of--O, she's dead!

ALBANY	Who dead? speak, man.

Gentleman	Your lady, sir, your lady: and her sister
	By her is poisoned; she hath confess'd it.

EDMUND	I was contracted to them both: all three
	Now marry in an instant.

EDGAR	Here comes Kent.

ALBANY	Produce their bodies, be they alive or dead:
	This judgment of the heavens, that makes us tremble,
	Touches us not with pity.

	[Exit Gentleman]

	[Enter KENT]

		    O, is this he?
	The time will not allow the compliment
	Which very manners urges.

KENT	I am come
	To bid my king and master aye good night:
	Is he not here?

ALBANY	                  Great thing of us forgot!
	Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cordelia?
	See'st thou this object, Kent?

	[The bodies of GONERIL and REGAN are brought in]

KENT	Alack, why thus?

EDMUND	                  Yet Edmund was beloved:
	The one the other poison'd for my sake,
	And after slew herself.

ALBANY	Even so. Cover their faces.

EDMUND	I pant for life: some good I mean to do,
	Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,
	Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ
	Is on the life of Lear and on Cordelia:
	Nay, send in time.

ALBANY	                  Run, run, O, run!

EDGAR	To who, my lord? Who hath the office? send
	Thy token of reprieve.

EDMUND	Well thought on: take my sword,
	Give it the captain.

ALBANY	Haste thee, for thy life.

	[Exit EDGAR]

EDMUND	He hath commission from thy wife and me
	To hang Cordelia in the prison, and
	To lay the blame upon her own despair,
	That she fordid herself.

ALBANY	The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile.

	[EDMUND is borne off]

	[Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms;
	EDGAR, Captain, and others following]

KING LEAR	Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
	Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
	That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
	I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
	She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
	If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
	Why, then she lives.

KENT	Is this the promised end

EDGAR	Or image of that horror?

ALBANY	Fall, and cease!

KING LEAR	This feather stirs; she lives! if it be so,
	It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows
	That ever I have felt.

KENT	[Kneeling]  O my good master!

KING LEAR	Prithee, away.

EDGAR	'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

KING LEAR	A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
	I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!
	Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha!
	What is't thou say'st? Her voice was ever soft,
	Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.
	I kill'd the slave that was a-hanging thee.

Captain	'Tis true, my lords, he did.

KING LEAR	Did I not, fellow?
	I have seen the day, with my good biting falchion
	I would have made them skip: I am old now,
	And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you?
	Mine eyes are not o' the best: I'll tell you straight.

KENT	If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
	One of them we behold.

KING LEAR	This is a dull sight. Are you not Kent?

KENT	The same,
	Your servant Kent: Where is your servant Caius?

KING LEAR	He's a good fellow, I can tell you that;
	He'll strike, and quickly too: he's dead and rotten.

KENT	No, my good lord; I am the very man,--

KING LEAR	I'll see that straight.

KENT	That, from your first of difference and decay,
	Have follow'd your sad steps.

KING LEAR	You are welcome hither.

KENT	Nor no man else: all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.
	Your eldest daughters have fordone them selves,
	And desperately are dead.

KING LEAR	Ay, so I think.

ALBANY	He knows not what he says: and vain it is
	That we present us to him.

EDGAR	Very bootless.

	[Enter a Captain]

Captain	Edmund is dead, my lord.

ALBANY	That's but a trifle here.
	You lords and noble friends, know our intent.
	What comfort to this great decay may come
	Shall be applied: for us we will resign,
	During the life of this old majesty,
	To him our absolute power:

	[To EDGAR and KENT]

		     you, to your rights:
	With boot, and such addition as your honours
	Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
	The wages of their virtue, and all foes
	The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!

KING LEAR	And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
	Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
	And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
	Never, never, never, never, never!
	Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
	Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
	Look there, look there!

	[Dies]

EDGAR	He faints! My lord, my lord!

KENT	Break, heart; I prithee, break!

EDGAR	Look up, my lord.

KENT	Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him much
	That would upon the rack of this tough world
	Stretch him out longer.

EDGAR	He is gone, indeed.

KENT	The wonder is, he hath endured so long:
	He but usurp'd his life.

ALBANY	Bear them from hence. Our present business
	Is general woe.

	[To KENT and EDGAR]

	Friends of my soul, you twain
	Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.

KENT	I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
	My master calls me, I must not say no.

ALBANY	The weight of this sad time we must obey;
	Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
	The oldest hath borne most: we that are young
	Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

	[Exeunt, with a dead march]




	MACBETH


	DRAMATIS PERSONAE


DUNCAN	king of Scotland.


MALCOLM	|
	|  his sons.
DONALBAIN	|


MACBETH	|
	|  generals of the king's army.
BANQUO	|


MACDUFF	|
	|
LENNOX	|
	|
ROSS	|
	|  noblemen of Scotland.
MENTEITH	|
	|
ANGUS	|
	|
CAITHNESS	|


FLEANCE	son to Banquo.

SIWARD	Earl of Northumberland, general of the English forces.

YOUNG SIWARD	his son.

SEYTON	an officer attending on Macbeth.

	Boy, son to Macduff. (Son:)

	An English Doctor. (Doctor:)

	A Scotch Doctor. (Doctor:)

	A Soldier.
	A Porter.

	An Old Man

LADY MACBETH:

LADY MACDUFF:

	Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. (Gentlewoman:)

HECATE:

	Three Witches.
	(First Witch:)
	(Second Witch:)
	(Third Witch:)

	Apparitions.
	(First Apparition:)
	(Second Apparition:)
	(Third Apparition:)

	Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers,
	Attendants, and Messengers. (Lord:)
	(Sergeant:)
	(Servant:)
	(First Murderer:)
	(Second Murderer:)
	(Third Murderer:)
	(Messenger:)

SCENE	Scotland: England.




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE I	A desert place.


	[Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches]

First Witch	When shall we three meet again
	In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Second Witch	When the hurlyburly's done,
	When the battle's lost and won.

Third Witch	That will be ere the set of sun.

First Witch	Where the place?

Second Witch	                  Upon the heath.

Third Witch	There to meet with Macbeth.

First Witch	I come, Graymalkin!

Second Witch	Paddock calls.

Third Witch	Anon.

ALL	Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
	Hover through the fog and filthy air.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE II	A camp near Forres.


	[Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN,
	LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant]

DUNCAN	What bloody man is that? He can report,
	As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
	The newest state.

MALCOLM	                  This is the sergeant
	Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
	'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
	Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
	As thou didst leave it.

Sergeant	Doubtful it stood;
	As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
	And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald--
	Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
	The multiplying villanies of nature
	Do swarm upon him--from the western isles
	Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
	And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
	Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
	For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name--
	Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
	Which smoked with bloody execution,
	Like valour's minion carved out his passage
	Till he faced the slave;
	Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
	Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
	And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

DUNCAN	O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!

Sergeant	As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
	Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
	So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
	Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
	No sooner justice had with valour arm'd
	Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
	But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage,
	With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men
	Began a fresh assault.

DUNCAN	Dismay'd not this
	Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

Sergeant	Yes;
	As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
	If I say sooth, I must report they were
	As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they
	Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
	Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
	Or memorise another Golgotha,
	I cannot tell.
	But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

DUNCAN	So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
	They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.

	[Exit Sergeant, attended]

	Who comes here?

	[Enter ROSS]

MALCOLM	                  The worthy thane of Ross.

LENNOX	What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
	That seems to speak things strange.

ROSS	God save the king!

DUNCAN	Whence camest thou, worthy thane?

ROSS	From Fife, great king;
	Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
	And fan our people cold. Norway himself,
	With terrible numbers,
	Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
	The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;
	Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
	Confronted him with self-comparisons,
	Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm.
	Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
	The victory fell on us.

DUNCAN	Great happiness!

ROSS	That now
	Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition:
	Nor would we deign him burial of his men
	Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch
	Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

DUNCAN	No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
	Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death,
	And with his former title greet Macbeth.

ROSS	I'll see it done.

DUNCAN	What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE III	A heath near Forres.


	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches]

First Witch	Where hast thou been, sister?

Second Witch	Killing swine.

Third Witch	Sister, where thou?

First Witch	A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap,
	And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:--
	'Give me,' quoth I:
	'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries.
	Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger:
	But in a sieve I'll thither sail,
	And, like a rat without a tail,
	I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do.

Second Witch	I'll give thee a wind.

First Witch	Thou'rt kind.

Third Witch	And I another.

First Witch	I myself have all the other,
	And the very ports they blow,
	All the quarters that they know
	I' the shipman's card.
	I will drain him dry as hay:
	Sleep shall neither night nor day
	Hang upon his pent-house lid;
	He shall live a man forbid:
	Weary se'nnights nine times nine
	Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
	Though his bark cannot be lost,
	Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
	Look what I have.

Second Witch	Show me, show me.

First Witch	Here I have a pilot's thumb,
	Wreck'd as homeward he did come.

	[Drum within]

Third Witch	A drum, a drum!
	Macbeth doth come.

ALL	The weird sisters, hand in hand,
	Posters of the sea and land,
	Thus do go about, about:
	Thrice to thine and thrice to mine
	And thrice again, to make up nine.
	Peace! the charm's wound up.

	[Enter MACBETH and BANQUO]

MACBETH	So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

BANQUO	How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these
	So wither'd and so wild in their attire,
	That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
	And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught
	That man may question? You seem to understand me,
	By each at once her chappy finger laying
	Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
	And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
	That you are so.

MACBETH	                  Speak, if you can: what are you?

First Witch	All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis!

Second Witch	All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!

Third Witch	All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!

BANQUO	Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
	Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,
	Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
	Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
	You greet with present grace and great prediction
	Of noble having and of royal hope,
	That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not.
	If you can look into the seeds of time,
	And say which grain will grow and which will not,
	Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
	Your favours nor your hate.

First Witch	Hail!

Second Witch	Hail!

Third Witch	Hail!

First Witch	Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

Second Witch	Not so happy, yet much happier.

Third Witch	Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
	So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

First Witch	Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

MACBETH	Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
	By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis;
	But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
	A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
	Stands not within the prospect of belief,
	No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
	You owe this strange intelligence? or why
	Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
	With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

	[Witches vanish]

BANQUO	The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
	And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?

MACBETH	Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
	As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!

BANQUO	Were such things here as we do speak about?
	Or have we eaten on the insane root
	That takes the reason prisoner?

MACBETH	Your children shall be kings.

BANQUO	You shall be king.

MACBETH	And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?

BANQUO	To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

	[Enter ROSS and ANGUS]

ROSS	The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
	The news of thy success; and when he reads
	Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
	His wonders and his praises do contend
	Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,
	In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
	He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
	Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
	Strange images of death. As thick as hail
	Came post with post; and every one did bear
	Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
	And pour'd them down before him.

ANGUS	We are sent
	To give thee from our royal master thanks;
	Only to herald thee into his sight,
	Not pay thee.

ROSS	And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
	He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
	In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
	For it is thine.

BANQUO	                  What, can the devil speak true?

MACBETH	The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
	In borrow'd robes?

ANGUS	                  Who was the thane lives yet;
	But under heavy judgment bears that life
	Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
	With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
	With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
	He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not;
	But treasons capital, confess'd and proved,
	Have overthrown him.

MACBETH	[Aside]  Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!
	The greatest is behind.

	[To ROSS and ANGUS]

		  Thanks for your pains.

	[To BANQUO]

	Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
	When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
	Promised no less to them?

BANQUO	That trusted home
	Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
	Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange:
	And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
	The instruments of darkness tell us truths,
	Win us with honest trifles, to betray's
	In deepest consequence.
	Cousins, a word, I pray you.

MACBETH	[Aside]	Two truths are told,
	As happy prologues to the swelling act
	Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.

	[Aside]  This supernatural soliciting
	Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,
	Why hath it given me earnest of success,
	Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
	If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
	Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair
	And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
	Against the use of nature? Present fears
	Are less than horrible imaginings:
	My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
	Shakes so my single state of man that function
	Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is
	But what is not.

BANQUO	                  Look, how our partner's rapt.

MACBETH	[Aside]  If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me,
	Without my stir.

BANQUO	                  New horrors come upon him,
	Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould
	But with the aid of use.

MACBETH	[Aside]                Come what come may,
	Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

BANQUO	Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure.

MACBETH	Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought
	With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains
	Are register'd where every day I turn
	The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king.
	Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time,
	The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak
	Our free hearts each to other.

BANQUO	Very gladly.

MACBETH	Till then, enough. Come, friends.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE IV	Forres. The palace.


	[Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX,
	and Attendants]

DUNCAN	Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
	Those in commission yet return'd?

MALCOLM	My liege,
	They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
	With one that saw him die: who did report
	That very frankly he confess'd his treasons,
	Implored your highness' pardon and set forth
	A deep repentance: nothing in his life
	Became him like the leaving it; he died
	As one that had been studied in his death
	To throw away the dearest thing he owed,
	As 'twere a careless trifle.

DUNCAN	There's no art
	To find the mind's construction in the face:
	He was a gentleman on whom I built
	An absolute trust.

	[Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS]

	O worthiest cousin!
	The sin of my ingratitude even now
	Was heavy on me: thou art so far before
	That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
	To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved,
	That the proportion both of thanks and payment
	Might have been mine! only I have left to say,
	More is thy due than more than all can pay.

MACBETH	The service and the loyalty I owe,
	In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
	Is to receive our duties; and our duties
	Are to your throne and state children and servants,
	Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
	Safe toward your love and honour.

DUNCAN	Welcome hither:
	I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
	To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
	That hast no less deserved, nor must be known
	No less to have done so, let me enfold thee
	And hold thee to my heart.

BANQUO	There if I grow,
	The harvest is your own.

DUNCAN	My plenteous joys,
	Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves
	In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
	And you whose places are the nearest, know
	We will establish our estate upon
	Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
	The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must
	Not unaccompanied invest him only,
	But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine
	On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
	And bind us further to you.

MACBETH	The rest is labour, which is not used for you:
	I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful
	The hearing of my wife with your approach;
	So humbly take my leave.

DUNCAN	My worthy Cawdor!

MACBETH	[Aside]  The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step
	On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap,
	For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
	Let not light see my black and deep desires:
	The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be,
	Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.

	[Exit]

DUNCAN	True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant,
	And in his commendations I am fed;
	It is a banquet to me. Let's after him,
	Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
	It is a peerless kinsman.

	[Flourish. Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE V	Inverness. Macbeth's castle.


	[Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter]

LADY MACBETH	'They met me in the day of success: and I have
	learned by the perfectest report, they have more in
	them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire
	to question them further, they made themselves air,
	into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in
	the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who
	all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title,
	before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred
	me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that
	shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver
	thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou
	mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being
	ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it
	to thy heart, and farewell.'
	Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
	What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature;
	It is too full o' the milk of human kindness
	To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;
	Art not without ambition, but without
	The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,
	That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
	And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis,
	That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it;
	And that which rather thou dost fear to do
	Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither,
	That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
	And chastise with the valour of my tongue
	All that impedes thee from the golden round,
	Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
	To have thee crown'd withal.

	[Enter a Messenger]

		       What is your tidings?

Messenger	The king comes here to-night.

LADY MACBETH	Thou'rt mad to say it:
	Is not thy master with him? who, were't so,
	Would have inform'd for preparation.

Messenger	So please you, it is true: our thane is coming:
	One of my fellows had the speed of him,
	Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more
	Than would make up his message.

LADY MACBETH	Give him tending;
	He brings great news.

	[Exit Messenger]

		The raven himself is hoarse
	That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
	Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
	That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
	And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
	Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
	Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
	That no compunctious visitings of nature
	Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
	The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
	And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
	Wherever in your sightless substances
	You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
	And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
	That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
	Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
	To cry 'Hold, hold!'

	[Enter MACBETH]

		Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
	Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
	Thy letters have transported me beyond
	This ignorant present, and I feel now
	The future in the instant.

MACBETH	My dearest love,
	Duncan comes here to-night.

LADY MACBETH	And when goes hence?

MACBETH	To-morrow, as he purposes.

LADY MACBETH	O, never
	Shall sun that morrow see!
	Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
	May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
	Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
	Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
	But be the serpent under't. He that's coming
	Must be provided for: and you shall put
	This night's great business into my dispatch;
	Which shall to all our nights and days to come
	Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

MACBETH	We will speak further.

LADY MACBETH	Only look up clear;
	To alter favour ever is to fear:
	Leave all the rest to me.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE VI	Before Macbeth's castle.


	[Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM,
	DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS,
	and Attendants]

DUNCAN	This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
	Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
	Unto our gentle senses.

BANQUO	This guest of summer,
	The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
	By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath
	Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,
	Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
	Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:
	Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
	The air is delicate.

	[Enter LADY MACBETH]

DUNCAN	See, see, our honour'd hostess!
	The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,
	Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
	How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains,
	And thank us for your trouble.

LADY MACBETH	All our service
	In every point twice done and then done double
	Were poor and single business to contend
	Against those honours deep and broad wherewith
	Your majesty loads our house: for those of old,
	And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
	We rest your hermits.

DUNCAN	Where's the thane of Cawdor?
	We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose
	To be his purveyor: but he rides well;
	And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
	To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
	We are your guest to-night.

LADY MACBETH	Your servants ever
	Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt,
	To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
	Still to return your own.

DUNCAN	Give me your hand;
	Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
	And shall continue our graces towards him.
	By your leave, hostess.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT I



SCENE VII	Macbeth's castle.


	[Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers
	Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the
	stage. Then enter MACBETH]

MACBETH	If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
	It were done quickly: if the assassination
	Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
	With his surcease success; that but this blow
	Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
	But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
	We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases
	We still have judgment here; that we but teach
	Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
	To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
	Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
	To our own lips. He's here in double trust;
	First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
	Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
	Who should against his murderer shut the door,
	Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
	Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
	So clear in his great office, that his virtues
	Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
	The deep damnation of his taking-off;
	And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
	Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed
	Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
	Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
	That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
	To prick the sides of my intent, but only
	Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself
	And falls on the other.

	[Enter LADY MACBETH]

		  How now! what news?

LADY MACBETH	He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber?

MACBETH	Hath he ask'd for me?

LADY MACBETH	Know you not he has?

MACBETH	We will proceed no further in this business:
	He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought
	Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
	Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
	Not cast aside so soon.

LADY MACBETH	Was the hope drunk
	Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?
	And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
	At what it did so freely? From this time
	Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
	To be the same in thine own act and valour
	As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
	Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
	And live a coward in thine own esteem,
	Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,'
	Like the poor cat i' the adage?

MACBETH	Prithee, peace:
	I dare do all that may become a man;
	Who dares do more is none.
LADY MACBETH	What beast was't, then,
	That made you break this enterprise to me?
	When you durst do it, then you were a man;
	And, to be more than what you were, you would
	Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
	Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
	They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
	Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know
	How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:
	I would, while it was smiling in my face,
	Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
	And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you
	Have done to this.

MACBETH	                  If we should fail?

LADY MACBETH	We fail!
	But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
	And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep--
	Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
	Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains
	Will I with wine and wassail so convince
	That memory, the warder of the brain,
	Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
	A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep
	Their drenched natures lie as in a death,
	What cannot you and I perform upon
	The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
	His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt
	Of our great quell?

MACBETH	Bring forth men-children only;
	For thy undaunted mettle should compose
	Nothing but males. Will it not be received,
	When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
	Of his own chamber and used their very daggers,
	That they have done't?

LADY MACBETH	Who dares receive it other,
	As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
	Upon his death?

MACBETH	                  I am settled, and bend up
	Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
	Away, and mock the time with fairest show:
	False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT II



SCENE I	Court of Macbeth's castle.


	[Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him]

BANQUO	How goes the night, boy?

FLEANCE	The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

BANQUO	And she goes down at twelve.

FLEANCE	I take't, 'tis later, sir.

BANQUO	Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven;
	Their candles are all out. Take thee that too.
	A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
	And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers,
	Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
	Gives way to in repose!

	[Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch]

		  Give me my sword.
	Who's there?

MACBETH	A friend.

BANQUO	What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
	He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
	Sent forth great largess to your offices.
	This diamond he greets your wife withal,
	By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
	In measureless content.

MACBETH	Being unprepared,
	Our will became the servant to defect;
	Which else should free have wrought.

BANQUO	All's well.
	I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
	To you they have show'd some truth.

MACBETH	I think not of them:
	Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
	We would spend it in some words upon that business,
	If you would grant the time.

BANQUO	At your kind'st leisure.

MACBETH	If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
	It shall make honour for you.

BANQUO	So I lose none
	In seeking to augment it, but still keep
	My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
	I shall be counsell'd.

MACBETH	Good repose the while!

BANQUO	Thanks, sir: the like to you!

	[Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE]

MACBETH	Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
	She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.

	[Exit Servant]

	Is this a dagger which I see before me,
	The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
	I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
	Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
	To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
	A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
	Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
	I see thee yet, in form as palpable
	As this which now I draw.
	Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
	And such an instrument I was to use.
	Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
	Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
	And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
	Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
	It is the bloody business which informs
	Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld
	Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
	The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
	Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
	Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
	Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace.
	With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
	Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
	Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
	Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
	And take the present horror from the time,
	Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
	Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

	[A bell rings]

	I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
	Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
	That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

	[Exit]




	MACBETH


ACT II



SCENE II	The same.


	[Enter LADY MACBETH]

LADY MACBETH	That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;
	What hath quench'd them hath given me fire.
	Hark! Peace!
	It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman,
	Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it:
	The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms
	Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd
	their possets,
	That death and nature do contend about them,
	Whether they live or die.

MACBETH	[Within]  Who's there? what, ho!

LADY MACBETH	Alack, I am afraid they have awaked,
	And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed
	Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready;
	He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled
	My father as he slept, I had done't.

	[Enter MACBETH]

		                  My husband!

MACBETH	I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?

LADY MACBETH	I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.
	Did not you speak?

MACBETH	                  When?

LADY MACBETH	Now.

MACBETH	As I descended?

LADY MACBETH	Ay.

MACBETH	Hark!
	Who lies i' the second chamber?

LADY MACBETH	Donalbain.

MACBETH	This is a sorry sight.

	[Looking on his hands]

LADY MACBETH	A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

MACBETH	There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried
	'Murder!'
	That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them:
	But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
	Again to sleep.

LADY MACBETH	                  There are two lodged together.

MACBETH	One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other;
	As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
	Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,'
	When they did say 'God bless us!'

LADY MACBETH	Consider it not so deeply.

MACBETH	But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'?
	I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen'
	Stuck in my throat.

LADY MACBETH	These deeds must not be thought
	After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

MACBETH	Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more!
	Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep,
	Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,
	The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
	Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
	Chief nourisher in life's feast,--

LADY MACBETH	What do you mean?

MACBETH	Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house:
	'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
	Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.'

LADY MACBETH	Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,
	You do unbend your noble strength, to think
	So brainsickly of things. Go get some water,
	And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
	Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
	They must lie there: go carry them; and smear
	The sleepy grooms with blood.

MACBETH	I'll go no more:
	I am afraid to think what I have done;
	Look on't again I dare not.

LADY MACBETH	Infirm of purpose!
	Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
	Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood
	That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
	I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal;
	For it must seem their guilt.

	[Exit. Knocking within]

MACBETH	Whence is that knocking?
	How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
	What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.
	Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
	Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
	The multitudinous seas in incarnadine,
	Making the green one red.

	[Re-enter LADY MACBETH]

LADY MACBETH	My hands are of your colour; but I shame
	To wear a heart so white.

	[Knocking within]

		    I hear a knocking
	At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;
	A little water clears us of this deed:
	How easy is it, then! Your constancy
	Hath left you unattended.

	[Knocking within]

		   Hark! more knocking.
	Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us,
	And show us to be watchers. Be not lost
	So poorly in your thoughts.

MACBETH	To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself.

	[Knocking within]

	Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!

	[Exeunt]



	MACBETH


ACT II



SCENE III	The same.


	[Knocking within. Enter a Porter]

Porter	Here's a knocking indeed! If a
	man were porter of hell-gate, he should have
	old turning the key.

	[Knocking within]
		Knock,
	knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of
	Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged
	himself on the expectation of plenty: come in
	time; have napkins enow about you; here
	you'll sweat for't.

	[Knocking within]
	Knock,
	knock! Who's there, in the other devil's
	name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could
	swear in both the scales against either scale;
	who committed treason enough for God's sake,
	yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come
	in, equivocator.

	[Knocking within]
	Knock,
	knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an
	English tailor come hither, for stealing out of
	a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may
	roast your goose.

	[Knocking within]
	Knock,
	knock; never at quiet! What are you? But
	this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter
	it no further: I had thought to have let in
	some of all professions that go the primrose
	way to the everlasting bonfire.

	[Knocking within]

	Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.

	[Opens the gate]

	[Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX]

MACDUFF	Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
	That you do lie so late?

Porter	'Faith sir, we were carousing till the
	second cock: and drink, sir, is a great
	provoker of three things.

MACDUFF	What three things does drink especially provoke?

Porter	Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and
	urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;
	it provokes the desire, but it takes
	away the performance: therefore, much drink
	may be said to be an equivocator with lechery:
	it makes him, and it mars him; it sets
	him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,
	and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and
	not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him
	in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.

MACDUFF	I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

Porter	That it did, sir, i' the very throat on
	me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I
	think, being too strong for him, though he took
	up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast
	him.

MACDUFF	Is thy master stirring?

	[Enter MACBETH]

	Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.

LENNOX	Good morrow, noble sir.

MACBETH	Good morrow, both.

MACDUFF	Is the king stirring, worthy thane?

MACBETH	Not yet.

MACDUFF	He did command me to call timely on him:
	I have almost slipp'd the hour.

MACBETH	I'll bring you to him.

MACDUFF	I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
	But yet 'tis one.

MACBETH	The labour we delight in physics pain.
	This is the door.

MACDUFF	                  I'll make so bold to call,
	For 'tis my limited service.

	[Exit]

LENNOX	Goes the king hence to-day?

MACBETH	He does: he did appoint so.

LENNOX	The night has been unruly: where we lay,
	Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
	Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death,
	And prophesying with accents terrible
	Of dire combustion and confused events
	New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird
	Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth
	Was feverous and did shake.

MACBETH	'Twas a rough night.

LENNOX	My young remembrance cannot parallel
	A fellow to it.

	[Re-enter MACDUFF]

MACDUFF	O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
	Cannot conceive nor name thee!


MACBETH	|
	|	What's the matter.
LENNOX	|


MACDUFF	Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
	Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
	The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
	The life o' the building!

MACBETH	What is 't you say? the life?

LENNOX	Mean you his majesty?

MACDUFF	Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
	With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak;
	See, and then speak yourselves.

	[Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX]

		          Awake, awake!
	Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!
	Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
	Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
	And look on death itself! up, up, and see
	The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
	As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
	To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.

	[Bell rings]

	[Enter LADY MACBETH]

LADY MACBETH	What's the business,
	That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
	The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!

MACDUFF	O gentle lady,
	'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
	The repetition, in a woman's ear,
	Would murder as it fell.

	[Enter BANQUO]

		   O Banquo, Banquo,
	Our royal master 's murder'd!

LADY MACBETH	Woe, alas!
	What, in our house?

BANQUO	Too cruel any where.
	Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
	And say it is not so.

	[Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS]

MACBETH	Had I but died an hour before this chance,
	I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
	There 's nothing serious in mortality:
	All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
	The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
	Is left this vault to brag of.

	[Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN]

DONALBAIN	What is amiss?

MACBETH	                  You are, and do not know't:
	The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
	Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.

MACDUFF	Your royal father 's murder'd.

MALCOLM	O, by whom?

LENNOX	Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't:
	Their hands and faces were an badged with blood;
	So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
	Upon their pillows:
	They stared, and were distracted; no man's life
	Was to be trusted with them.

MACBETH	O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
	That I did kill them.

MACDUFF	Wherefore did you so?

MACBETH	Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,
	Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
	The expedition my violent love
	Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,
	His silver skin laced with his golden blood;
	And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
	For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
	Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
	Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
	That had a heart to love, and in that heart
	Courage to make 's love known?

LADY MACBETH	Help me hence, ho!

MACDUFF	Look to the lady.

MALCOLM	[Aside to DONALBAIN]  Why do we hold our tongues,
	That most may claim this argument for ours?

DONALBAIN	[Aside to MALCOLM]  What should be spoken here,
	where our fate,
	Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us?
	Let 's away;
	Our tears are not yet brew'd.

MALCOLM	[Aside to DONALBAIN]        Nor our strong sorrow
	Upon the foot of motion.

BANQUO	Look to the lady:

	[LADY MACBETH is carried out]

	And when we have our naked frailties hid,
	That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
	And question this most bloody piece of work,
	To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
	In the great hand of God I stand; and thence
	Against the undivulged pretence I fight
	Of treasonous malice.

MACDUFF	And so do I.

ALL	So all.

MACBETH	Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
	And meet i' the hall together.

ALL	Well contented.

	[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.

MALCOLM	What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
	To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
	Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.

DONALBAIN	To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
	Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
	There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
	The nearer bloody.

MALCOLM	                  This murderous shaft that's shot
	Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way
	Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
	And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
	But shift away: there's warrant in that theft
	Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT II



SCENE IV	Outside Macbeth's castle.


	[Enter ROSS and an old Man]

Old Man	Threescore and ten I can remember well:
	Within the volume of which time I have seen
	Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
	Hath trifled former knowings.

ROSS	Ah, good father,
	Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
	Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
	And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
	Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
	That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
	When living light should kiss it?

Old Man	'Tis unnatural,
	Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
	A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
	Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.

ROSS	And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain--
	Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
	Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
	Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
	War with mankind.

Old Man	'Tis said they eat each other.

ROSS	They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes
	That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff.

	[Enter MACDUFF]

	How goes the world, sir, now?

MACDUFF	Why, see you not?

ROSS	Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?

MACDUFF	Those that Macbeth hath slain.

ROSS	Alas, the day!
	What good could they pretend?

MACDUFF	They were suborn'd:
	Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
	Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
	Suspicion of the deed.

ROSS	'Gainst nature still!
	Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
	Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
	The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

MACDUFF	He is already named, and gone to Scone
	To be invested.

ROSS	                  Where is Duncan's body?

MACDUFF	Carried to Colmekill,
	The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
	And guardian of their bones.

ROSS	Will you to Scone?

MACDUFF	No, cousin, I'll to Fife.

ROSS	Well, I will thither.

MACDUFF	Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!
	Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

ROSS	Farewell, father.

Old Man	God's benison go with you; and with those
	That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE I	Forres. The palace.


	[Enter BANQUO]

BANQUO	Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
	As the weird women promised, and, I fear,
	Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said
	It should not stand in thy posterity,
	But that myself should be the root and father
	Of many kings. If there come truth from them--
	As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine--
	Why, by the verities on thee made good,
	May they not be my oracles as well,
	And set me up in hope? But hush! no more.

	[Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY
	MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and
	Attendants]

MACBETH	Here's our chief guest.

LADY MACBETH	If he had been forgotten,
	It had been as a gap in our great feast,
	And all-thing unbecoming.

MACBETH	To-night we hold a solemn supper sir,
	And I'll request your presence.

BANQUO	Let your highness
	Command upon me; to the which my duties
	Are with a most indissoluble tie
	For ever knit.

MACBETH	                  Ride you this afternoon?

BANQUO	Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH	We should have else desired your good advice,
	Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,
	In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
	Is't far you ride?

BANQUO	As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
	'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
	I must become a borrower of the night
	For a dark hour or twain.

MACBETH	Fail not our feast.

BANQUO	My lord, I will not.

MACBETH	We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd
	In England and in Ireland, not confessing
	Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
	With strange invention: but of that to-morrow,
	When therewithal we shall have cause of state
	Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
	Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?

BANQUO	Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's.

MACBETH	I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
	And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.

	[Exit BANQUO]

	Let every man be master of his time
	Till seven at night: to make society
	The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
	Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you!

	[Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant]

	Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men
	Our pleasure?

ATTENDANT	They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

MACBETH	Bring them before us.

	[Exit Attendant]

		To be thus is nothing;
	But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo
	Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
	Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares;
	And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
	He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
	To act in safety. There is none but he
	Whose being I do fear: and, under him,
	My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said,
	Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
	When first they put the name of king upon me,
	And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like
	They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
	Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
	And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
	Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
	No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so,
	For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind;
	For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
	Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
	Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
	Given to the common enemy of man,
	To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
	Rather than so, come fate into the list.
	And champion me to the utterance! Who's there!

	[Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers]

	Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

	[Exit Attendant]

	Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

First Murderer	It was, so please your highness.

MACBETH	Well then, now
	Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
	That it was he in the times past which held you
	So under fortune, which you thought had been
	Our innocent self: this I made good to you
	In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you,
	How you were borne in hand, how cross'd,
	the instruments,
	Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
	To half a soul and to a notion crazed
	Say 'Thus did Banquo.'

First Murderer	You made it known to us.

MACBETH	I did so, and went further, which is now
	Our point of second meeting. Do you find
	Your patience so predominant in your nature
	That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd
	To pray for this good man and for his issue,
	Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave
	And beggar'd yours for ever?

First Murderer	We are men, my liege.

MACBETH	Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
	As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
	Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept
	All by the name of dogs: the valued file
	Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
	The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
	According to the gift which bounteous nature
	Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive
	Particular addition. from the bill
	That writes them all alike: and so of men.
	Now, if you have a station in the file,
	Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't;
	And I will put that business in your bosoms,
	Whose execution takes your enemy off,
	Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
	Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
	Which in his death were perfect.

Second Murderer	I am one, my liege,
	Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
	Have so incensed that I am reckless what
	I do to spite the world.

First Murderer	And I another
	So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
	That I would set my lie on any chance,
	To mend it, or be rid on't.

MACBETH	Both of you
	Know Banquo was your enemy.

Both Murderers	True, my lord.

MACBETH	So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
	That every minute of his being thrusts
	Against my near'st of life: and though I could
	With barefaced power sweep him from my sight
	And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
	For certain friends that are both his and mine,
	Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
	Who I myself struck down; and thence it is,
	That I to your assistance do make love,
	Masking the business from the common eye
	For sundry weighty reasons.

Second Murderer	We shall, my lord,
	Perform what you command us.

First Murderer	Though our lives--

MACBETH	Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most
	I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
	Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
	The moment on't; for't must be done to-night,
	And something from the palace; always thought
	That I require a clearness: and with him--
	To leave no rubs nor botches in the work--
	Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
	Whose absence is no less material to me
	Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
	Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart:
	I'll come to you anon.

Both Murderers	We are resolved, my lord.

MACBETH	I'll call upon you straight: abide within.

	[Exeunt Murderers]

	It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight,
	If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.

	[Exit]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE II	The palace.


	[Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant]

LADY MACBETH	Is Banquo gone from court?

Servant	Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

LADY MACBETH	Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
	For a few words.

Servant	                  Madam, I will.

	[Exit]

LADY MACBETH	Nought's had, all's spent,
	Where our desire is got without content:
	'Tis safer to be that which we destroy
	Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

	[Enter MACBETH]

	How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
	Of sorriest fancies your companions making,
	Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
	With them they think on? Things without all remedy
	Should be without regard: what's done is done.

MACBETH	We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it:
	She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
	Remains in danger of her former tooth.
	But let the frame of things disjoint, both the
	worlds suffer,
	Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep
	In the affliction of these terrible dreams
	That shake us nightly: better be with the dead,
	Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,
	Than on the torture of the mind to lie
	In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
	After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
	Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
	Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
	Can touch him further.

LADY MACBETH	Come on;
	Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
	Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.

MACBETH	So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:
	Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
	Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
	Unsafe the while, that we
	Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,
	And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
	Disguising what they are.

LADY MACBETH	You must leave this.

MACBETH	O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
	Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.

LADY MACBETH	But in them nature's copy's not eterne.

MACBETH	There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
	Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
	His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons
	The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums
	Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
	A deed of dreadful note.

LADY MACBETH	What's to be done?

MACBETH	Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
	Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
	Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
	And with thy bloody and invisible hand
	Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
	Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow
	Makes wing to the rooky wood:
	Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
	While night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
	Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
	Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
	So, prithee, go with me.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE III	A park near the palace.


	[Enter three Murderers]

First Murderer	But who did bid thee join with us?

Third Murderer	Macbeth.

Second Murderer	He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers
	Our offices and what we have to do
	To the direction just.

First Murderer	Then stand with us.
	The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
	Now spurs the lated traveller apace
	To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
	The subject of our watch.

Third Murderer	Hark! I hear horses.

BANQUO	[Within]  Give us a light there, ho!

Second Murderer	Then 'tis he: the rest
	That are within the note of expectation
	Already are i' the court.

First Murderer	His horses go about.

Third Murderer	Almost a mile: but he does usually,
	So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
	Make it their walk.

Second Murderer	A light, a light!

	[Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch]

Third Murderer	'Tis he.

First Murderer	Stand to't.

BANQUO	It will be rain to-night.

First Murderer	Let it come down.

	[They set upon BANQUO]

BANQUO	O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
	Thou mayst revenge. O slave!

	[Dies. FLEANCE escapes]

Third Murderer	Who did strike out the light?

First Murderer	Wast not the way?

Third Murderer	There's but one down; the son is fled.

Second Murderer	We have lost
	Best half of our affair.

First Murderer	Well, let's away, and say how much is done.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE IV	The same. Hall in the palace.


	[A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH,
	ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants]

MACBETH	You know your own degrees; sit down: at first
	And last the hearty welcome.
Lords	Thanks to your majesty.

MACBETH	Ourself will mingle with society,
	And play the humble host.
	Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time
	We will require her welcome.

LADY MACBETH	Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
	For my heart speaks they are welcome.

	[First Murderer appears at the door]

MACBETH	See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.
	Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst:
	Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
	The table round.

	[Approaching the door]

	There's blood on thy face.

First Murderer	'Tis Banquo's then.

MACBETH	'Tis better thee without than he within.
	Is he dispatch'd?

First Murderer	My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.

MACBETH	Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good
	That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
	Thou art the nonpareil.

First Murderer	Most royal sir,
	Fleance is 'scaped.

MACBETH	Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect,
	Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
	As broad and general as the casing air:
	But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in
	To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?

First Murderer	Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
	With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
	The least a death to nature.

MACBETH	Thanks for that:
	There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
	Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
	No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow
	We'll hear, ourselves, again.

	[Exit Murderer]

LADY MACBETH	My royal lord,
	You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
	That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
	'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;
	From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
	Meeting were bare without it.

MACBETH	Sweet remembrancer!
	Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
	And health on both!

LENNOX	May't please your highness sit.

	[The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in
	MACBETH's place]

MACBETH	Here had we now our country's honour roof'd,
	Were the graced person of our Banquo present;
	Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
	Than pity for mischance!

ROSS	His absence, sir,
	Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
	To grace us with your royal company.

MACBETH	The table's full.

LENNOX	                  Here is a place reserved, sir.

MACBETH	Where?

LENNOX	Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?

MACBETH	Which of you have done this?

Lords	What, my good lord?

MACBETH	Thou canst not say I did it: never shake
	Thy gory locks at me.

ROSS	Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.

LADY MACBETH	Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,
	And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
	The fit is momentary; upon a thought
	He will again be well: if much you note him,
	You shall offend him and extend his passion:
	Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?

MACBETH	Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
	Which might appal the devil.

LADY MACBETH	O proper stuff!
	This is the very painting of your fear:
	This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
	Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,
	Impostors to true fear, would well become
	A woman's story at a winter's fire,
	Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!
	Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
	You look but on a stool.

MACBETH	Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
	how say you?
	Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
	If charnel-houses and our graves must send
	Those that we bury back, our monuments
	Shall be the maws of kites.

	[GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes]

LADY MACBETH	What, quite unmann'd in folly?

MACBETH	If I stand here, I saw him.

LADY MACBETH	Fie, for shame!

MACBETH	Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
	Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;
	Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
	Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,
	That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
	And there an end; but now they rise again,
	With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
	And push us from our stools: this is more strange
	Than such a murder is.

LADY MACBETH	My worthy lord,
	Your noble friends do lack you.

MACBETH	I do forget.
	Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,
	I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
	To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
	Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
	I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
	And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
	Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
	And all to all.

Lords	                  Our duties, and the pledge.

	[Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO]

MACBETH	Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
	Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
	Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
	Which thou dost glare with!

LADY MACBETH	Think of this, good peers,
	But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
	Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

MACBETH	What man dare, I dare:
	Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
	The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
	Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
	Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
	And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
	If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
	The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
	Unreal mockery, hence!

	[GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes]

		 Why, so: being gone,
	I am a man again. Pray you, sit still.

LADY MACBETH	You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
	With most admired disorder.

MACBETH	Can such things be,
	And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
	Without our special wonder? You make me strange
	Even to the disposition that I owe,
	When now I think you can behold such sights,
	And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
	When mine is blanched with fear.

ROSS	What sights, my lord?

LADY MACBETH	I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
	Question enrages him. At once, good night:
	Stand not upon the order of your going,
	But go at once.

LENNOX	                  Good night; and better health
	Attend his majesty!

LADY MACBETH	A kind good night to all!

	[Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH]

MACBETH	It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
	Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;
	Augurs and understood relations have
	By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
	The secret'st man of blood. What is the night?

LADY MACBETH	Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

MACBETH	How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
	At our great bidding?

LADY MACBETH	Did you send to him, sir?

MACBETH	I hear it by the way; but I will send:
	There's not a one of them but in his house
	I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
	And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:
	More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
	By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
	All causes shall give way: I am in blood
	Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more,
	Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
	Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
	Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.

LADY MACBETH	You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

MACBETH	Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
	Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:
	We are yet but young in deed.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE V	A Heath.


	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE]

First Witch	Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.

HECATE	Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
	Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
	To trade and traffic with Macbeth
	In riddles and affairs of death;
	And I, the mistress of your charms,
	The close contriver of all harms,
	Was never call'd to bear my part,
	Or show the glory of our art?
	And, which is worse, all you have done
	Hath been but for a wayward son,
	Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,
	Loves for his own ends, not for you.
	But make amends now: get you gone,
	And at the pit of Acheron
	Meet me i' the morning: thither he
	Will come to know his destiny:
	Your vessels and your spells provide,
	Your charms and every thing beside.
	I am for the air; this night I'll spend
	Unto a dismal and a fatal end:
	Great business must be wrought ere noon:
	Upon the corner of the moon
	There hangs a vaporous drop profound;
	I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
	And that distill'd by magic sleights
	Shall raise such artificial sprites
	As by the strength of their illusion
	Shall draw him on to his confusion:
	He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
	He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:
	And you all know, security
	Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

	[Music and a song within: 'Come away, come
	away,' &c]

	Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
	Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

	[Exit]

First Witch	Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT III



SCENE VI	Forres. The palace.


	[Enter LENNOX and another Lord]

LENNOX	My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
	Which can interpret further: only, I say,
	Things have been strangely borne. The
	gracious Duncan
	Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead:
	And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
	Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
	For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.
	Who cannot want the thought how monstrous
	It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
	To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
	How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight
	In pious rage the two delinquents tear,
	That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
	Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
	For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive
	To hear the men deny't. So that, I say,
	He has borne all things well: and I do think
	That had he Duncan's sons under his key--
	As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they
	should find
	What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
	But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd
	His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear
	Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell
	Where he bestows himself?

Lord	The son of Duncan,
	From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth
	Lives in the English court, and is received
	Of the most pious Edward with such grace
	That the malevolence of fortune nothing
	Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff
	Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid
	To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward:
	That, by the help of these--with Him above
	To ratify the work--we may again
	Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
	Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
	Do faithful homage and receive free honours:
	All which we pine for now: and this report
	Hath so exasperate the king that he
	Prepares for some attempt of war.

LENNOX	Sent he to Macduff?

Lord	He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,'
	The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
	And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time
	That clogs me with this answer.'

LENNOX	And that well might
	Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
	His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
	Fly to the court of England and unfold
	His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
	May soon return to this our suffering country
	Under a hand accursed!

Lord	I'll send my prayers with him.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT IV



SCENE I	A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.


	[Thunder. Enter the three Witches]


First Witch	Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Second Witch	Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Third Witch	Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time.

First Witch	Round about the cauldron go;
	In the poison'd entrails throw.
	Toad, that under cold stone
	Days and nights has thirty-one
	Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
	Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
	Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch	Fillet of a fenny snake,
	In the cauldron boil and bake;
	Eye of newt and toe of frog,
	Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
	Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
	Lizard's leg and owlet's wing,
	For a charm of powerful trouble,
	Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
	Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch	Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
	Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
	Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
	Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
	Liver of blaspheming Jew,
	Gall of goat, and slips of yew
	Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
	Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips,
	Finger of birth-strangled babe
	Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
	Make the gruel thick and slab:
	Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
	For the ingredients of our cauldron.

ALL	Double, double toil and trouble;
	Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

Second Witch	Cool it with a baboon's blood,
	Then the charm is firm and good.

	[Enter HECATE to the other three Witches]

HECATE	O well done! I commend your pains;
	And every one shall share i' the gains;
	And now about the cauldron sing,
	Live elves and fairies in a ring,
	Enchanting all that you put in.

	[Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' &c]

	[HECATE retires]

Second Witch	By the pricking of my thumbs,
	Something wicked this way comes.
	Open, locks,
	Whoever knocks!

	[Enter MACBETH]

MACBETH	How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
	What is't you do?

ALL	                  A deed without a name.

MACBETH	I conjure you, by that which you profess,
	Howe'er you come to know it, answer me:
	Though you untie the winds and let them fight
	Against the churches; though the yesty waves
	Confound and swallow navigation up;
	Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down;
	Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
	Though palaces and pyramids do slope
	Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
	Of nature's germens tumble all together,
	Even till destruction sicken; answer me
	To what I ask you.

First Witch	                  Speak.

Second Witch	Demand.

Third Witch	We'll answer.

First Witch	Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
	Or from our masters?

MACBETH	Call 'em; let me see 'em.

First Witch	Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
	Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
	From the murderer's gibbet throw
	Into the flame.

ALL	                  Come, high or low;
	Thyself and office deftly show!

	[Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head]

MACBETH	Tell me, thou unknown power,--

First Witch	He knows thy thought:
	Hear his speech, but say thou nought.

First Apparition	Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;
	Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.

	[Descends]

MACBETH	Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
	Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one
	word more,--

First Witch	He will not be commanded: here's another,
	More potent than the first.

	[Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child]

Second Apparition	Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

MACBETH	Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee.

Second Apparition	Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
	The power of man, for none of woman born
	Shall harm Macbeth.

	[Descends]

MACBETH	Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
	But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
	And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
	That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
	And sleep in spite of thunder.

	[Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned,
	with a tree in his hand]

		         What is this
	That rises like the issue of a king,
	And wears upon his baby-brow the round
	And top of sovereignty?

ALL	Listen, but speak not to't.

Third Apparition	Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
	Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
	Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
	Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
	Shall come against him.

	[Descends]

MACBETH	That will never be
	Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
	Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good!
	Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
	Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth
	Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
	To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
	Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
	Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever
	Reign in this kingdom?

ALL	Seek to know no more.

MACBETH	I will be satisfied: deny me this,
	And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
	Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?

	[Hautboys]

First Witch	Show!

Second Witch	Show!

Third Witch	Show!

ALL	Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
	Come like shadows, so depart!

	[A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in
	his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following]

MACBETH	Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!
	Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair,
	Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
	A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
	Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
	What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
	Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more:
	And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
	Which shows me many more; and some I see
	That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:
	Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true;
	For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
	And points at them for his.

	[Apparitions vanish]

		      What, is this so?

First Witch	Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
	Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
	Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
	And show the best of our delights:
	I'll charm the air to give a sound,
	While you perform your antic round:
	That this great king may kindly say,
	Our duties did his welcome pay.

	[Music. The witches dance and then vanish,
	with HECATE]

MACBETH	Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
	Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
	Come in, without there!

	[Enter LENNOX]

LENNOX	What's your grace's will?

MACBETH	Saw you the weird sisters?

LENNOX	No, my lord.

MACBETH	Came they not by you?

LENNOX	No, indeed, my lord.

MACBETH	Infected be the air whereon they ride;
	And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
	The galloping of horse: who was't came by?

LENNOX	'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
	Macduff is fled to England.

MACBETH	Fled to England!

LENNOX	Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH	Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits:
	The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
	Unless the deed go with it; from this moment
	The very firstlings of my heart shall be
	The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
	To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
	The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
	Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
	His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
	That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
	This deed I'll do before this purpose cool.
	But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen?
	Come, bring me where they are.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT IV



SCENE II	Fife. Macduff's castle.


	[Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS]

LADY MACDUFF	What had he done, to make him fly the land?

ROSS	You must have patience, madam.

LADY MACDUFF	He had none:
	His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
	Our fears do make us traitors.

ROSS	You know not
	Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

LADY MACDUFF	Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
	His mansion and his titles in a place
	From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
	He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
	The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
	Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
	All is the fear and nothing is the love;
	As little is the wisdom, where the flight
	So runs against all reason.

ROSS	My dearest coz,
	I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
	He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
	The fits o' the season. I dare not speak
	much further;
	But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
	And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
	From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
	But float upon a wild and violent sea
	Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
	Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
	Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
	To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
	Blessing upon you!

LADY MACDUFF	Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

ROSS	I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
	It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
	I take my leave at once.

	[Exit]

LADY MACDUFF	Sirrah, your father's dead;
	And what will you do now? How will you live?

Son	As birds do, mother.

LADY MACDUFF	What, with worms and flies?

Son	With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

LADY MACDUFF	Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
	The pitfall nor the gin.

Son	Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
	My father is not dead, for all your saying.

LADY MACDUFF	Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?

Son	Nay, how will you do for a husband?

LADY MACDUFF	Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

Son	Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.

LADY MACDUFF	Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith,
	With wit enough for thee.

Son	Was my father a traitor, mother?

LADY MACDUFF	Ay, that he was.

Son	What is a traitor?

LADY MACDUFF	Why, one that swears and lies.

Son	And be all traitors that do so?

LADY MACDUFF	Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

Son	And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

LADY MACDUFF	Every one.

Son	Who must hang them?

LADY MACDUFF	Why, the honest men.

Son	Then the liars and swearers are fools,
	for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
	the honest men and hang up them.

LADY MACDUFF	Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
	But how wilt thou do for a father?

Son	If he were dead, you'ld weep for
	him: if you would not, it were a good sign
	that I should quickly have a new father.

LADY MACDUFF	Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
	Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
	I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
	If you will take a homely man's advice,
	Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
	To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
	To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
	Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
	I dare abide no longer.

	[Exit]

LADY MACDUFF	Whither should I fly?
	I have done no harm. But I remember now
	I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
	Is often laudable, to do good sometime
	Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
	Do I put up that womanly defence,
	To say I have done no harm?

	[Enter Murderers]

		      What are these faces?

First Murderer	Where is your husband?

LADY MACDUFF	I hope, in no place so unsanctified
	Where such as thou mayst find him.

First Murderer	He's a traitor.

Son	Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!

First Murderer	What, you egg!

	[Stabbing him]

	Young fry of treachery!

Son	He has kill'd me, mother:
	Run away, I pray you!

	[Dies]

	[Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt
	Murderers, following her]



	MACBETH


ACT IV



SCENE III	England. Before the King's palace.


	[Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF]

MALCOLM	Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
	Weep our sad bosoms empty.

MACDUFF	Let us rather
	Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
	Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
	New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
	Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
	As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
	Like syllable of dolour.

MALCOLM	What I believe I'll wail,
	What know believe, and what I can redress,
	As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
	What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
	This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
	Was once thought honest: you have loved him well.
	He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young;
	but something
	You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
	To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
	To appease an angry god.

MACDUFF	I am not treacherous.

MALCOLM	But Macbeth is.
	A good and virtuous nature may recoil
	In an imperial charge. But I shall crave
	your pardon;
	That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:
	Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;
	Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
	Yet grace must still look so.

MACDUFF	I have lost my hopes.

MALCOLM	Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
	Why in that rawness left you wife and child,
	Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,
	Without leave-taking? I pray you,
	Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
	But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,
	Whatever I shall think.

MACDUFF	Bleed, bleed, poor country!
	Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
	For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou
	thy wrongs;
	The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:
	I would not be the villain that thou think'st
	For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
	And the rich East to boot.

MALCOLM	Be not offended:
	I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
	I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
	It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
	Is added to her wounds: I think withal
	There would be hands uplifted in my right;
	And here from gracious England have I offer
	Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
	When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
	Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
	Shall have more vices than it had before,
	More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,
	By him that shall succeed.

MACDUFF	What should he be?

MALCOLM	It is myself I mean: in whom I know
	All the particulars of vice so grafted
	That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
	Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
	Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
	With my confineless harms.

MACDUFF	Not in the legions
	Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
	In evils to top Macbeth.

MALCOLM	I grant him bloody,
	Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
	Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
	That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
	In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
	Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up
	The cistern of my lust, and my desire
	All continent impediments would o'erbear
	That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
	Than such an one to reign.

MACDUFF	Boundless intemperance
	In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
	The untimely emptying of the happy throne
	And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
	To take upon you what is yours: you may
	Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
	And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
	We have willing dames enough: there cannot be
	That vulture in you, to devour so many
	As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
	Finding it so inclined.

MALCOLM	With this there grows
	In my most ill-composed affection such
	A stanchless avarice that, were I king,
	I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
	Desire his jewels and this other's house:
	And my more-having would be as a sauce
	To make me hunger more; that I should forge
	Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
	Destroying them for wealth.

MACDUFF	This avarice
	Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
	Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
	The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
	Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will.
	Of your mere own: all these are portable,
	With other graces weigh'd.

MALCOLM	But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
	As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
	Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
	Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
	I have no relish of them, but abound
	In the division of each several crime,
	Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
	Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
	Uproar the universal peace, confound
	All unity on earth.

MACDUFF	O Scotland, Scotland!

MALCOLM	If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
	I am as I have spoken.

MACDUFF	Fit to govern!
	No, not to live. O nation miserable,
	With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
	When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
	Since that the truest issue of thy throne
	By his own interdiction stands accursed,
	And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
	Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,
	Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
	Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
	These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
	Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
	Thy hope ends here!

MALCOLM	Macduff, this noble passion,
	Child of integrity, hath from my soul
	Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
	To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
	By many of these trains hath sought to win me
	Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
	From over-credulous haste: but God above
	Deal between thee and me! for even now
	I put myself to thy direction, and
	Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
	The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
	For strangers to my nature. I am yet
	Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
	Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
	At no time broke my faith, would not betray
	The devil to his fellow and delight
	No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
	Was this upon myself: what I am truly,
	Is thine and my poor country's to command:
	Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
	Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
	Already at a point, was setting forth.
	Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
	Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

MACDUFF	Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
	'Tis hard to reconcile.

	[Enter a Doctor]

MALCOLM	Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?

Doctor	Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls
	That stay his cure: their malady convinces
	The great assay of art; but at his touch--
	Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand--
	They presently amend.

MALCOLM	I thank you, doctor.

	[Exit Doctor]

MACDUFF	What's the disease he means?

MALCOLM	'Tis call'd the evil:
	A most miraculous work in this good king;
	Which often, since my here-remain in England,
	I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
	Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
	All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
	The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
	Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
	Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
	To the succeeding royalty he leaves
	The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
	He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
	And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
	That speak him full of grace.

	[Enter ROSS]

MACDUFF	See, who comes here?

MALCOLM	My countryman; but yet I know him not.

MACDUFF	My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

MALCOLM	I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
	The means that makes us strangers!

ROSS	Sir, amen.

MACDUFF	Stands Scotland where it did?

ROSS	Alas, poor country!
	Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
	Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
	But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
	Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air
	Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
	A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
	Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
	Expire before the flowers in their caps,
	Dying or ere they sicken.

MACDUFF	O, relation
	Too nice, and yet too true!

MALCOLM	What's the newest grief?

ROSS	That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker:
	Each minute teems a new one.

MACDUFF	How does my wife?

ROSS	Why, well.

MACDUFF	         And all my children?

ROSS	Well too.

MACDUFF	The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

ROSS	No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

MACDUFF	But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

ROSS	When I came hither to transport the tidings,
	Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
	Of many worthy fellows that were out;
	Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
	For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
	Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
	Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
	To doff their dire distresses.

MALCOLM	Be't their comfort
	We are coming thither: gracious England hath
	Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
	An older and a better soldier none
	That Christendom gives out.

ROSS	Would I could answer
	This comfort with the like! But I have words
	That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
	Where hearing should not latch them.

MACDUFF	What concern they?
	The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
	Due to some single breast?

ROSS	No mind that's honest
	But in it shares some woe; though the main part
	Pertains to you alone.

MACDUFF	If it be mine,
	Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

ROSS	Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
	Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
	That ever yet they heard.

MACDUFF	Hum! I guess at it.

ROSS	Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
	Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
	Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
	To add the death of you.

MALCOLM	Merciful heaven!
	What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
	Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
	Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

MACDUFF	My children too?

ROSS	                  Wife, children, servants, all
	That could be found.

MACDUFF	And I must be from thence!
	My wife kill'd too?

ROSS	I have said.

MALCOLM	Be comforted:
	Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
	To cure this deadly grief.

MACDUFF	He has no children. All my pretty ones?
	Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
	What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
	At one fell swoop?

MALCOLM	Dispute it like a man.

MACDUFF	I shall do so;
	But I must also feel it as a man:
	I cannot but remember such things were,
	That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
	And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
	They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
	Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
	Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

MALCOLM	Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
	Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

MACDUFF	O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
	And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
	Cut short all intermission; front to front
	Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
	Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
	Heaven forgive him too!

MALCOLM	This tune goes manly.
	Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
	Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth
	Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
	Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may:
	The night is long that never finds the day.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE I	Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.


	[Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman]

Doctor	I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive
	no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

Gentlewoman	Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen
	her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon
	her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,
	write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again
	return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

Doctor	A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once
	the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of
	watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her
	walking and other actual performances, what, at any
	time, have you heard her say?

Gentlewoman	That, sir, which I will not report after her.

Doctor	You may to me: and 'tis most meet you should.

Gentlewoman	Neither to you nor any one; having no witness to
	confirm my speech.

	[Enter LADY MACBETH, with a taper]

	Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise;
	and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.

Doctor	How came she by that light?

Gentlewoman	Why, it stood by her: she has light by her
	continually; 'tis her command.

Doctor	You see, her eyes are open.

Gentlewoman	Ay, but their sense is shut.

Doctor	What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.

Gentlewoman	It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus
	washing her hands: I have known her continue in
	this a quarter of an hour.

LADY MACBETH	Yet here's a spot.

Doctor	Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from
	her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

LADY MACBETH	Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why,
	then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my
	lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we
	fear who knows it, when none can call our power to
	account?--Yet who would have thought the old man
	to have had so much blood in him.

Doctor	Do you mark that?

LADY MACBETH	The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?--
	What, will these hands ne'er be clean?--No more o'
	that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with
	this starting.

Doctor	Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gentlewoman	She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of
	that: heaven knows what she has known.

LADY MACBETH	Here's the smell of the blood still: all the
	perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little
	hand. Oh, oh, oh!

Doctor	What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gentlewoman	I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the
	dignity of the whole body.

Doctor	Well, well, well,--

Gentlewoman	Pray God it be, sir.

Doctor	This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known
	those which have walked in their sleep who have died
	holily in their beds.

LADY MACBETH	Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so
	pale.--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he
	cannot come out on's grave.

Doctor	Even so?

LADY MACBETH	To bed, to bed! there's knocking at the gate:
	come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's
	done cannot be undone.--To bed, to bed, to bed!

	[Exit]

Doctor	Will she go now to bed?

Gentlewoman	Directly.

Doctor	Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
	Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
	To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets:
	More needs she the divine than the physician.
	God, God forgive us all! Look after her;
	Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
	And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night:
	My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.
	I think, but dare not speak.

Gentlewoman	Good night, good doctor.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH

ACT V



SCENE II	The country near Dunsinane.


	[Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS,
	LENNOX, and Soldiers]

MENTEITH	The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
	His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:
	Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
	Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
	Excite the mortified man.

ANGUS	Near Birnam wood
	Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

CAITHNESS	Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?

LENNOX	For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
	Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
	And many unrough youths that even now
	Protest their first of manhood.

MENTEITH	What does the tyrant?

CAITHNESS	Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
	Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him
	Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
	He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
	Within the belt of rule.

ANGUS	Now does he feel
	His secret murders sticking on his hands;
	Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
	Those he commands move only in command,
	Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
	Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
	Upon a dwarfish thief.

MENTEITH	Who then shall blame
	His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
	When all that is within him does condemn
	Itself for being there?

CAITHNESS	Well, march we on,
	To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
	Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
	And with him pour we in our country's purge
	Each drop of us.

LENNOX	                  Or so much as it needs,
	To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
	Make we our march towards Birnam.

	[Exeunt, marching]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE III	Dunsinane. A room in the castle.


	[Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants]

MACBETH	Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:
	Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
	I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
	Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
	All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
	'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
	Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly,
	false thanes,
	And mingle with the English epicures:
	The mind I sway by and the heart I bear
	Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.

	[Enter a Servant]

	The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
	Where got'st thou that goose look?

Servant	There is ten thousand--

MACBETH	Geese, villain!

Servant	Soldiers, sir.

MACBETH	Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
	Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
	Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
	Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?

Servant	The English force, so please you.

MACBETH	Take thy face hence.

	[Exit Servant]

		Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
	When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
	Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
	I have lived long enough: my way of life
	Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
	And that which should accompany old age,
	As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
	I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
	Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
	Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!

	[Enter SEYTON]

SEYTON	What is your gracious pleasure?

MACBETH	What news more?

SEYTON	All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.

MACBETH	I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
	Give me my armour.

SEYTON	'Tis not needed yet.

MACBETH	I'll put it on.
	Send out more horses; skirr the country round;
	Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
	How does your patient, doctor?

Doctor	Not so sick, my lord,
	As she is troubled with thick coming fancies,
	That keep her from her rest.

MACBETH	Cure her of that.
	Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
	Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
	Raze out the written troubles of the brain
	And with some sweet oblivious antidote
	Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
	Which weighs upon the heart?

Doctor	Therein the patient
	Must minister to himself.

MACBETH	Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.
	Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
	Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.
	Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
	The water of my land, find her disease,
	And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
	I would applaud thee to the very echo,
	That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
	What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,
	Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them?

Doctor	Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
	Makes us hear something.

MACBETH	Bring it after me.
	I will not be afraid of death and bane,
	Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

Doctor	[Aside]  Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
	Profit again should hardly draw me here.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE IV	Country near Birnam wood.


	[Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG
	SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS,
	LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching]

MALCOLM	Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
	That chambers will be safe.

MENTEITH	We doubt it nothing.

SIWARD	What wood is this before us?

MENTEITH	The wood of Birnam.

MALCOLM	Let every soldier hew him down a bough
	And bear't before him: thereby shall we shadow
	The numbers of our host and make discovery
	Err in report of us.

Soldiers	It shall be done.

SIWARD	We learn no other but the confident tyrant
	Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
	Our setting down before 't.

MALCOLM	'Tis his main hope:
	For where there is advantage to be given,
	Both more and less have given him the revolt,
	And none serve with him but constrained things
	Whose hearts are absent too.

MACDUFF	Let our just censures
	Attend the true event, and put we on
	Industrious soldiership.

SIWARD	The time approaches
	That will with due decision make us know
	What we shall say we have and what we owe.
	Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
	But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
	Towards which advance the war.

	[Exeunt, marching]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE V	Dunsinane. Within the castle.


	[Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum
	and colours]

MACBETH	Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
	The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
	Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
	Till famine and the ague eat them up:
	Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
	We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
	And beat them backward home.

	[A cry of women within]

		       What is that noise?

SEYTON	It is the cry of women, my good lord.

	[Exit]

MACBETH	I have almost forgot the taste of fears;
	The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
	To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
	Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
	As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;
	Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
	Cannot once start me.

	[Re-enter SEYTON]

		Wherefore was that cry?

SEYTON	The queen, my lord, is dead.

MACBETH	She should have died hereafter;
	There would have been a time for such a word.
	To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
	Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
	To the last syllable of recorded time,
	And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
	The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
	Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
	That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
	And then is heard no more: it is a tale
	Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
	Signifying nothing.

	[Enter a Messenger]

	Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.

Messenger	Gracious my lord,
	I should report that which I say I saw,
	But know not how to do it.

MACBETH	Well, say, sir.

Messenger	As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
	I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
	The wood began to move.

MACBETH	Liar and slave!

Messenger	Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
	Within this three mile may you see it coming;
	I say, a moving grove.

MACBETH	If thou speak'st false,
	Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
	Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
	I care not if thou dost for me as much.
	I pull in resolution, and begin
	To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
	That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood
	Do come to Dunsinane:'  and now a wood
	Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!
	If this which he avouches does appear,
	There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
	I gin to be aweary of the sun,
	And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
	Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack!
	At least we'll die with harness on our back.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE VI	Dunsinane. Before the castle.


	[Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF,
	and their Army, with boughs]

MALCOLM	Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down.
	And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,
	Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
	Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we
	Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,
	According to our order.

SIWARD	Fare you well.
	Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
	Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

MACDUFF	Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
	Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

	[Exeunt]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE VII	Another part of the field.


	[Alarums. Enter MACBETH]

MACBETH	They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
	But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he
	That was not born of woman? Such a one
	Am I to fear, or none.

	[Enter YOUNG SIWARD]

YOUNG SIWARD	What is thy name?

MACBETH	                  Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

YOUNG SIWARD	No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
	Than any is in hell.

MACBETH	My name's Macbeth.

YOUNG SIWARD	The devil himself could not pronounce a title
	More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH	No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SIWARD	Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
	I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

	[They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain]

MACBETH	Thou wast born of woman
	But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
	Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.

	[Exit]

	[Alarums. Enter MACDUFF]

MACDUFF	That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
	If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine,
	My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
	I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
	Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,
	Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge
	I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
	By this great clatter, one of greatest note
	Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
	And more I beg not.

	[Exit. Alarums]

	[Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD]

SIWARD	This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd:
	The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
	The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
	The day almost itself professes yours,
	And little is to do.

MALCOLM	We have met with foes
	That strike beside us.

SIWARD	Enter, sir, the castle.

	[Exeunt. Alarums]




	MACBETH


ACT V



SCENE VIII	Another part of the field.


	[Enter MACBETH]

MACBETH	Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
	On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
	Do better upon them.

	[Enter MACDUFF]

MACDUFF	Turn, hell-hound, turn!

MACBETH	Of all men else I have avoided thee:
	But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
	With blood of thine already.

MACDUFF	I have no words:
	My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
	Than terms can give thee out!

	[They fight]

MACBETH	Thou losest labour:
	As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
	With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:
	Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
	I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,
	To one of woman born.

MACDUFF	Despair thy charm;
	And let the angel whom thou still hast served
	Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
	Untimely ripp'd.

MACBETH	Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
	For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
	And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
	That palter with us in a double sense;
	That keep the word of promise to our ear,
	And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.

MACDUFF	Then yield thee, coward,
	And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:
	We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
	Painted on a pole, and underwrit,
	'Here may you see the tyrant.'

MACBETH	I will not yield,
	To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
	And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
	Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
	And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
	Yet I will try the last. Before my body
	I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
	And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'

	[Exeunt, fighting. Alarums]

	[Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours,
	MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers]

MALCOLM	I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.

SIWARD	Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
	So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

MALCOLM	Macduff is missing, and your noble son.

ROSS	Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
	He only lived but till he was a man;
	The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
	In the unshrinking station where he fought,
	But like a man he died.

SIWARD	Then he is dead?

ROSS	Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
	Must not be measured by his worth, for then
	It hath no end.

SIWARD	                  Had he his hurts before?

ROSS	Ay, on the front.

SIWARD	                  Why then, God's soldier be he!
	Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
	I would not wish them to a fairer death:
	And so, his knell is knoll'd.

MALCOLM	He's worth more sorrow,
	And that I'll spend for him.

SIWARD	He's worth no more
	They say he parted well, and paid his score:
	And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

	[Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head]

MACDUFF	Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands
	The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
	I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
	That speak my salutation in their minds;
	Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
	Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL	Hail, King of Scotland!

	[Flourish]

MALCOLM	We shall not spend a large expense of time
	Before we reckon with your several loves,
	And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
	Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
	In such an honour named. What's more to do,
	Which would be planted newly with the time,
	As calling home our exiled friends abroad
	That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
	Producing forth the cruel ministers
	Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
	Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
	Took off her life; this, and what needful else
	That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
	We will perform in measure, time and place:
	So, thanks to all at once and to each one,
	Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.

	[Flourish. Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


	DRAMATIS PERSONAE



MARK ANTONY		|
		|
OCTAVIUS CAESAR		|  triumvirs.
		|
M. AEMILIUS		|
LEPIDUS	(LEPIDUS:)	|


SEXTUS POMPEIUS	(POMPEY:)


DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	|
	|
VENTIDIUS	|
	|
EROS	|
	|
SCARUS	|  friends to Antony.
	|
DERCETAS	|
	|
DEMETRIUS	|
	|
PHILO	|


MECAENAS	|
	|
AGRIPPA	|
	|
DOLABELLA	|
	|
PROCULEIUS	|  friends to Caesar.
	|
THYREUS	|
	|
GALLUS	|
	|
MENAS	|


MENECRATES	|
	|  friends to Pompey.
VARRIUS	|


TAURUS	lieutenant-general to Caesar.

CANIDIUS	lieutenant-general to Antony.

SILIUS	an officer in Ventidius's army.

EUPHRONIUS	an ambassador from Antony to Caesar.

	
ALEXAS		|
		|
MARDIAN	a Eunuch.	|
		|  attendants on Cleopatra.
SELEUCUS		|
		|
DIOMEDES		|


	A Soothsayer. (Soothsayer:)

	A Clown. (Clown:)

CLEOPATRA	queen of Egypt.

OCTAVIA	sister to Caesar and wife to Antony.


CHARMIAN	|
	|  attendants on Cleopatra.
IRAS	|


	Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.
	(First Officer:)
	(Second Officer:)
	(Third Officer:)
	(Messenger:)
	(Second Messenger:)
	(First Servant:)
	(Second Servant:)
	(Egyptian:)
	(Guard:)
	(First Guard:)
	(Second Guard:)
	(Attendant:)
	(First Attendant:)
	(Second Attendant:)



SCENE	In several parts of the Roman empire.




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT I



SCENE I	Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO]

PHILO	Nay, but this dotage of our general's
	O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes,
	That o'er the files and musters of the war
	Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn,
	The office and devotion of their view
	Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart,
	Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst
	The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper,
	And is become the bellows and the fan
	To cool a gipsy's lust.

	[Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies,
	the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her]

		  Look, where they come:
	Take but good note, and you shall see in him.
	The triple pillar of the world transform'd
	Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see.

CLEOPATRA	If it be love indeed, tell me how much.

MARK ANTONY	There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd.

CLEOPATRA	I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved.

MARK ANTONY	Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.

	[Enter an Attendant]

Attendant	News, my good lord, from Rome.

MARK ANTONY	Grates me: the sum.

CLEOPATRA	Nay, hear them, Antony:
	Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows
	If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent
	His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this;
	Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that;
	Perform 't, or else we damn thee.'

MARK ANTONY	How, my love!

CLEOPATRA	Perchance! nay, and most like:
	You must not stay here longer, your dismission
	Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony.
	Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both?
	Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen,
	Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine
	Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame
	When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers!

MARK ANTONY	Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch
	Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space.
	Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike
	Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life
	Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair

	[Embracing]

	And such a twain can do't, in which I bind,
	On pain of punishment, the world to weet
	We stand up peerless.

CLEOPATRA	Excellent falsehood!
	Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her?
	I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony
	Will be himself.

MARK ANTONY	                  But stirr'd by Cleopatra.
	Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours,
	Let's not confound the time with conference harsh:
	There's not a minute of our lives should stretch
	Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight?

CLEOPATRA	Hear the ambassadors.

MARK ANTONY	Fie, wrangling queen!
	Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
	To weep; whose every passion fully strives
	To make itself, in thee, fair and admired!
	No messenger, but thine; and all alone
	To-night we'll wander through the streets and note
	The qualities of people. Come, my queen;
	Last night you did desire it: speak not to us.

	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with
	their train]

DEMETRIUS	Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight?

PHILO	Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony,
	He comes too short of that great property
	Which still should go with Antony.

DEMETRIUS	I am full sorry
	That he approves the common liar, who
	Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope
	Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT I



SCENE II	The same. Another room.


	[Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer]

CHARMIAN	Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas,
	almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer
	that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew
	this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns
	with garlands!

ALEXAS	Soothsayer!

Soothsayer	Your will?

CHARMIAN	Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things?

Soothsayer	In nature's infinite book of secrecy
	A little I can read.

ALEXAS	Show him your hand.

	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough
	Cleopatra's health to drink.

CHARMIAN	Good sir, give me good fortune.

Soothsayer	I make not, but foresee.

CHARMIAN	Pray, then, foresee me one.

Soothsayer	You shall be yet far fairer than you are.

CHARMIAN	He means in flesh.

IRAS	No, you shall paint when you are old.

CHARMIAN	Wrinkles forbid!

ALEXAS	Vex not his prescience; be attentive.

CHARMIAN	Hush!

Soothsayer	You shall be more beloving than beloved.

CHARMIAN	I had rather heat my liver with drinking.

ALEXAS	Nay, hear him.

CHARMIAN	Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married
	to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all:
	let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry
	may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius
	Caesar, and companion me with my mistress.

Soothsayer	You shall outlive the lady whom you serve.

CHARMIAN	O excellent! I love long life better than figs.

Soothsayer	You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune
	Than that which is to approach.

CHARMIAN	Then belike my children shall have no names:
	prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have?

Soothsayer	If every of your wishes had a womb.
	And fertile every wish, a million.

CHARMIAN	Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch.

ALEXAS	You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes.

CHARMIAN	Nay, come, tell Iras hers.

ALEXAS	We'll know all our fortunes.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall
	be--drunk to bed.

IRAS	There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else.

CHARMIAN	E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine.

IRAS	Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay.

CHARMIAN	Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful
	prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee,
	tell her but a worky-day fortune.

Soothsayer	Your fortunes are alike.

IRAS	But how, but how? give me particulars.

Soothsayer	I have said.

IRAS	Am I not an inch of fortune better than she?

CHARMIAN	Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than
	I, where would you choose it?

IRAS	Not in my husband's nose.

CHARMIAN	Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come,
	his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman
	that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let
	her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst
	follow worse, till the worst of all follow him
	laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good
	Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a
	matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee!

IRAS	Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people!
	for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man
	loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a
	foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep
	decorum, and fortune him accordingly!

CHARMIAN	Amen.

ALEXAS	Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a
	cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but
	they'ld do't!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Hush! here comes Antony.

CHARMIAN	Not he; the queen.

	[Enter CLEOPATRA]

CLEOPATRA	Saw you my lord?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  No, lady.

CLEOPATRA	Was he not here?

CHARMIAN	No, madam.

CLEOPATRA	He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden
	A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Madam?

CLEOPATRA	Seek him, and bring him hither.
	Where's Alexas?

ALEXAS	Here, at your service. My lord approaches.

CLEOPATRA	We will not look upon him: go with us.

	[Exeunt]

	[Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants]

Messenger	Fulvia thy wife first came into the field.

MARK ANTONY	Against my brother Lucius?

Messenger	Ay:
	But soon that war had end, and the time's state
	Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar;
	Whose better issue in the war, from Italy,
	Upon the first encounter, drave them.

MARK ANTONY	Well, what worst?

Messenger	The nature of bad news infects the teller.

MARK ANTONY	When it concerns the fool or coward. On:
	Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus:
	Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death,
	I hear him as he flatter'd.

Messenger	Labienus--
	This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force,
	Extended Asia from Euphrates;
	His conquering banner shook from Syria
	To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst--

MARK ANTONY	Antony, thou wouldst say,--

Messenger	O, my lord!

MARK ANTONY	Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue:
	Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome;
	Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults
	With such full licence as both truth and malice
	Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds,
	When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us
	Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile.

Messenger	At your noble pleasure.

	[Exit]

MARK ANTONY	From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there!

First Attendant	The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one?

Second Attendant	He stays upon your will.

MARK ANTONY	Let him appear.
	These strong Egyptian fetters I must break,
	Or lose myself in dotage.

	[Enter another Messenger]

		    What are you?

Second Messenger	Fulvia thy wife is dead.

MARK ANTONY	Where died she?

Second Messenger	In Sicyon:
	Her length of sickness, with what else more serious
	Importeth thee to know, this bears.

	[Gives a letter]

MARK ANTONY	Forbear me.

	[Exit Second Messenger]

	There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it:
	What our contempt doth often hurl from us,
	We wish it ours again; the present pleasure,
	By revolution lowering, does become
	The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone;
	The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on.
	I must from this enchanting queen break off:
	Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know,
	My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus!

	[Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What's your pleasure, sir?

MARK ANTONY	I must with haste from hence.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Why, then, we kill all our women:
	we see how mortal an unkindness is to them;
	if they suffer our departure, death's the word.

MARK ANTONY	I must be gone.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were
	pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between
	them and a great cause, they should be esteemed
	nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of
	this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty
	times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is
	mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon
	her, she hath such a celerity in dying.

MARK ANTONY	She is cunning past man's thought.

	[Exit ALEXAS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but
	the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her
	winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater
	storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this
	cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a
	shower of rain as well as Jove.

MARK ANTONY	Would I had never seen her.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece
	of work; which not to have been blest withal would
	have discredited your travel.

MARK ANTONY	Fulvia is dead.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Sir?

MARK ANTONY	Fulvia is dead.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Fulvia!

MARK ANTONY	Dead.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When
	it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man
	from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth;
	comforting therein, that when old robes are worn
	out, there are members to make new. If there were
	no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut,
	and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned
	with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new
	petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion
	that should water this sorrow.

MARK ANTONY	The business she hath broached in the state
	Cannot endure my absence.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	And the business you have broached here cannot be
	without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which
	wholly depends on your abode.

MARK ANTONY	No more light answers. Let our officers
	Have notice what we purpose. I shall break
	The cause of our expedience to the queen,
	And get her leave to part. For not alone
	The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches,
	Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too
	Of many our contriving friends in Rome
	Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius
	Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands
	The empire of the sea: our slippery people,
	Whose love is never link'd to the deserver
	Till his deserts are past, begin to throw
	Pompey the Great and all his dignities
	Upon his son; who, high in name and power,
	Higher than both in blood and life, stands up
	For the main soldier: whose quality, going on,
	The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding,
	Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life,
	And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure,
	To such whose place is under us, requires
	Our quick remove from hence.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall do't.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT I



SCENE III	The same. Another room.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]

CLEOPATRA	Where is he?

CHARMIAN	                  I did not see him since.

CLEOPATRA	See where he is, who's with him, what he does:
	I did not send you: if you find him sad,
	Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report
	That I am sudden sick: quick, and return.

	[Exit ALEXAS]

CHARMIAN	Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly,
	You do not hold the method to enforce
	The like from him.

CLEOPATRA	                  What should I do, I do not?

CHARMIAN	In each thing give him way, cross him nothing.

CLEOPATRA	Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him.

CHARMIAN	Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear:
	In time we hate that which we often fear.
	But here comes Antony.

	[Enter MARK ANTONY]

CLEOPATRA	I am sick and sullen.

MARK ANTONY	I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,--

CLEOPATRA	Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall:
	It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature
	Will not sustain it.

MARK ANTONY	Now, my dearest queen,--

CLEOPATRA	Pray you, stand further from me.

MARK ANTONY	What's the matter?

CLEOPATRA	I know, by that same eye, there's some good news.
	What says the married woman? You may go:
	Would she had never given you leave to come!
	Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here:
	I have no power upon you; hers you are.

MARK ANTONY	The gods best know,--

CLEOPATRA	O, never was there queen
	So mightily betray'd! yet at the first
	I saw the treasons planted.

MARK ANTONY	Cleopatra,--

CLEOPATRA	Why should I think you can be mine and true,
	Though you in swearing shake the throned gods,
	Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness,
	To be entangled with those mouth-made vows,
	Which break themselves in swearing!

MARK ANTONY	Most sweet queen,--

CLEOPATRA	Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going,
	But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying,
	Then was the time for words: no going then;
	Eternity was in our lips and eyes,
	Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor,
	But was a race of heaven: they are so still,
	Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world,
	Art turn'd the greatest liar.

MARK ANTONY	How now, lady!

CLEOPATRA	I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know
	There were a heart in Egypt.

MARK ANTONY	Hear me, queen:
	The strong necessity of time commands
	Our services awhile; but my full heart
	Remains in use with you. Our Italy
	Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius
	Makes his approaches to the port of Rome:
	Equality of two domestic powers
	Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength,
	Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey,
	Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace,
	Into the hearts of such as have not thrived
	Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten;
	And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge
	By any desperate change: my more particular,
	And that which most with you should safe my going,
	Is Fulvia's death.

CLEOPATRA	Though age from folly could not give me freedom,
	It does from childishness: can Fulvia die?

MARK ANTONY	She's dead, my queen:
	Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read
	The garboils she awaked; at the last, best:
	See when and where she died.

CLEOPATRA	O most false love!
	Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill
	With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see,
	In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be.

MARK ANTONY	Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know
	The purposes I bear; which are, or cease,
	As you shall give the advice. By the fire
	That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence
	Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war
	As thou affect'st.

CLEOPATRA	                  Cut my lace, Charmian, come;
	But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well,
	So Antony loves.

MARK ANTONY	                  My precious queen, forbear;
	And give true evidence to his love, which stands
	An honourable trial.

CLEOPATRA	So Fulvia told me.
	I prithee, turn aside and weep for her,
	Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears
	Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene
	Of excellent dissembling; and let it look
	Life perfect honour.

MARK ANTONY	You'll heat my blood: no more.

CLEOPATRA	You can do better yet; but this is meetly.

MARK ANTONY	Now, by my sword,--

CLEOPATRA	And target. Still he mends;
	But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian,
	How this Herculean Roman does become
	The carriage of his chafe.

MARK ANTONY	I'll leave you, lady.

CLEOPATRA	Courteous lord, one word.
	Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it:
	Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it;
	That you know well: something it is I would,
	O, my oblivion is a very Antony,
	And I am all forgotten.

MARK ANTONY	But that your royalty
	Holds idleness your subject, I should take you
	For idleness itself.

CLEOPATRA	'Tis sweating labour
	To bear such idleness so near the heart
	As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me;
	Since my becomings kill me, when they do not
	Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence;
	Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly.
	And all the gods go with you! upon your sword
	Sit laurel victory! and smooth success
	Be strew'd before your feet!

MARK ANTONY	Let us go. Come;
	Our separation so abides, and flies,
	That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
	And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT I



SCENE IV	Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS,
	and their Train]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know,
	It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate
	Our great competitor: from Alexandria
	This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes
	The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like
	Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy
	More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or
	Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there
	A man who is the abstract of all faults
	That all men follow.

LEPIDUS	I must not think there are
	Evils enow to darken all his goodness:
	His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven,
	More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary,
	Rather than purchased; what he cannot change,
	Than what he chooses.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not
	Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy;
	To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit
	And keep the turn of tippling with a slave;
	To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet
	With knaves that smell of sweat: say this
	becomes him,--
	As his composure must be rare indeed
	Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony
	No way excuse his soils, when we do bear
	So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd
	His vacancy with his voluptuousness,
	Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones,
	Call on him for't: but to confound such time,
	That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud
	As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid
	As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge,
	Pawn their experience to their present pleasure,
	And so rebel to judgment.

	[Enter a Messenger]

LEPIDUS	Here's more news.

Messenger	Thy biddings have been done; and every hour,
	Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report
	How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea;
	And it appears he is beloved of those
	That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports
	The discontents repair, and men's reports
	Give him much wrong'd.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I should have known no less.
	It hath been taught us from the primal state,
	That he which is was wish'd until he were;
	And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love,
	Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body,
	Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream,
	Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide,
	To rot itself with motion.

Messenger	Caesar, I bring thee word,
	Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates,
	Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound
	With keels of every kind: many hot inroads
	They make in Italy; the borders maritime
	Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt:
	No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon
	Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more
	Than could his war resisted.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Antony,
	Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once
	Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st
	Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel
	Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against,
	Though daintily brought up, with patience more
	Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink
	The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle
	Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign
	The roughest berry on the rudest hedge;
	Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets,
	The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps
	It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh,
	Which some did die to look on: and all this--
	It wounds thine honour that I speak it now--
	Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek
	So much as lank'd not.

LEPIDUS	'Tis pity of him.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let his shames quickly
	Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain
	Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end
	Assemble we immediate council: Pompey
	Thrives in our idleness.

LEPIDUS	To-morrow, Caesar,
	I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly
	Both what by sea and land I can be able
	To front this present time.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Till which encounter,
	It is my business too. Farewell.

LEPIDUS	Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime
	Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir,
	To let me be partaker.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Doubt not, sir;
	I knew it for my bond.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT I



SCENE V	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN]

CLEOPATRA	Charmian!

CHARMIAN	Madam?

CLEOPATRA	Ha, ha!
	Give me to drink mandragora.

CHARMIAN	Why, madam?

CLEOPATRA	That I might sleep out this great gap of time
	My Antony is away.

CHARMIAN	                  You think of him too much.

CLEOPATRA	O, 'tis treason!

CHARMIAN	                  Madam, I trust, not so.

CLEOPATRA	Thou, eunuch Mardian!

MARDIAN	What's your highness' pleasure?

CLEOPATRA	Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure
	In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee,
	That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts
	May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections?

MARDIAN	Yes, gracious madam.

CLEOPATRA	Indeed!

MARDIAN	Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing
	But what indeed is honest to be done:
	Yet have I fierce affections, and think
	What Venus did with Mars.

CLEOPATRA	O Charmian,
	Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?
	Or does he walk? or is he on his horse?
	O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
	Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest?
	The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
	And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
	Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?'
	For so he calls me: now I feed myself
	With most delicious poison. Think on me,
	That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
	And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
	When thou wast here above the ground, I was
	A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
	Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
	There would he anchor his aspect and die
	With looking on his life.

	[Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR]

ALEXAS	Sovereign of Egypt, hail!

CLEOPATRA	How much unlike art thou Mark Antony!
	Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath
	With his tinct gilded thee.
	How goes it with my brave Mark Antony?

ALEXAS	Last thing he did, dear queen,
	He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,--
	This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart.

CLEOPATRA	Mine ear must pluck it thence.

ALEXAS	'Good friend,' quoth he,
	'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends
	This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot,
	To mend the petty present, I will piece
	Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east,
	Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded,
	And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed,
	Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke
	Was beastly dumb'd by him.

CLEOPATRA	What, was he sad or merry?

ALEXAS	Like to the time o' the year between the extremes
	Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry.

CLEOPATRA	O well-divided disposition! Note him,
	Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him:
	He was not sad, for he would shine on those
	That make their looks by his; he was not merry,
	Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay
	In Egypt with his joy; but between both:
	O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry,
	The violence of either thee becomes,
	So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts?

ALEXAS	Ay, madam, twenty several messengers:
	Why do you send so thick?

CLEOPATRA	Who's born that day
	When I forget to send to Antony,
	Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian.
	Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian,
	Ever love Caesar so?

CHARMIAN	O that brave Caesar!

CLEOPATRA	Be choked with such another emphasis!
	Say, the brave Antony.

CHARMIAN	The valiant Caesar!

CLEOPATRA	By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth,
	If thou with Caesar paragon again
	My man of men.

CHARMIAN	                  By your most gracious pardon,
	I sing but after you.

CLEOPATRA	My salad days,
	When I was green in judgment: cold in blood,
	To say as I said then! But, come, away;
	Get me ink and paper:
	He shall have every day a several greeting,
	Or I'll unpeople Egypt.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE I	Messina. POMPEY's house.


	[Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in
	warlike manner]

POMPEY	If the great gods be just, they shall assist
	The deeds of justest men.

MENECRATES	Know, worthy Pompey,
	That what they do delay, they not deny.

POMPEY	Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays
	The thing we sue for.

MENECRATES	We, ignorant of ourselves,
	Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers
	Deny us for our good; so find we profit
	By losing of our prayers.

POMPEY	I shall do well:
	The people love me, and the sea is mine;
	My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope
	Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony
	In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make
	No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where
	He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both,
	Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves,
	Nor either cares for him.

MENAS	Caesar and Lepidus
	Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry.

POMPEY	Where have you this? 'tis false.

MENAS	From Silvius, sir.

POMPEY	He dreams: I know they are in Rome together,
	Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love,
	Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip!
	Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both!
	Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts,
	Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks
	Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite;
	That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour
	Even till a Lethe'd dulness!

	[Enter VARRIUS]

		       How now, Varrius!

VARRIUS	This is most certain that I shall deliver:
	Mark Antony is every hour in Rome
	Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis
	A space for further travel.

POMPEY	I could have given less matter
	A better ear. Menas, I did not think
	This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm
	For such a petty war: his soldiership
	Is twice the other twain: but let us rear
	The higher our opinion, that our stirring
	Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck
	The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony.

MENAS	I cannot hope
	Caesar and Antony shall well greet together:
	His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar;
	His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think,
	Not moved by Antony.

POMPEY	I know not, Menas,
	How lesser enmities may give way to greater.
	Were't not that we stand up against them all,
	'Twere pregnant they should square between
	themselves;
	For they have entertained cause enough
	To draw their swords: but how the fear of us
	May cement their divisions and bind up
	The petty difference, we yet not know.
	Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands
	Our lives upon to use our strongest hands.
	Come, Menas.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE II	Rome. The house of LEPIDUS.


	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS]

LEPIDUS	Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed,
	And shall become you well, to entreat your captain
	To soft and gentle speech.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall entreat him
	To answer like himself: if Caesar move him,
	Let Antony look over Caesar's head
	And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter,
	Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard,
	I would not shave't to-day.

LEPIDUS	'Tis not a time
	For private stomaching.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Every time
	Serves for the matter that is then born in't.

LEPIDUS	But small to greater matters must give way.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not if the small come first.

LEPIDUS	Your speech is passion:
	But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes
	The noble Antony.

	[Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  And yonder, Caesar.

	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA]

MARK ANTONY	If we compose well here, to Parthia:
	Hark, Ventidius.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I do not know,
	Mecaenas; ask Agrippa.

LEPIDUS	Noble friends,
	That which combined us was most great, and let not
	A leaner action rend us. What's amiss,
	May it be gently heard: when we debate
	Our trivial difference loud, we do commit
	Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners,
	The rather, for I earnestly beseech,
	Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
	Nor curstness grow to the matter.

MARK ANTONY	'Tis spoken well.
	Were we before our armies, and to fight.
	I should do thus.

	[Flourish]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Welcome to Rome.

MARK ANTONY	                  Thank you.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Sit.

MARK ANTONY	Sit, sir.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nay, then.

MARK ANTONY	I learn, you take things ill which are not so,
	Or being, concern you not.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I must be laugh'd at,
	If, or for nothing or a little, I
	Should say myself offended, and with you
	Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should
	Once name you derogately, when to sound your name
	It not concern'd me.

MARK ANTONY	My being in Egypt, Caesar,
	What was't to you?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No more than my residing here at Rome
	Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there
	Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt
	Might be my question.

MARK ANTONY	How intend you, practised?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You may be pleased to catch at mine intent
	By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother
	Made wars upon me; and their contestation
	Was theme for you, you were the word of war.

MARK ANTONY	You do mistake your business; my brother never
	Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it;
	And have my learning from some true reports,
	That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather
	Discredit my authority with yours;
	And make the wars alike against my stomach,
	Having alike your cause? Of this my letters
	Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel,
	As matter whole you have not to make it with,
	It must not be with this.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You praise yourself
	By laying defects of judgment to me; but
	You patch'd up your excuses.

MARK ANTONY	Not so, not so;
	I know you could not lack, I am certain on't,
	Very necessity of this thought, that I,
	Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought,
	Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars
	Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife,
	I would you had her spirit in such another:
	The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle
	You may pace easy, but not such a wife.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Would we had all such wives, that the men might go
	to wars with the women!

MARK ANTONY	So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar
	Made out of her impatience, which not wanted
	Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant
	Did you too much disquiet: for that you must
	But say, I could not help it.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I wrote to you
	When rioting in Alexandria; you
	Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts
	Did gibe my missive out of audience.

MARK ANTONY	Sir,
	He fell upon me ere admitted: then
	Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want
	Of what I was i' the morning: but next day
	I told him of myself; which was as much
	As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow
	Be nothing of our strife; if we contend,
	Out of our question wipe him.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You have broken
	The article of your oath; which you shall never
	Have tongue to charge me with.

LEPIDUS	Soft, Caesar!

MARK ANTONY	No,
	Lepidus, let him speak:
	The honour is sacred which he talks on now,
	Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar;
	The article of my oath.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	To lend me arms and aid when I required them;
	The which you both denied.

MARK ANTONY	Neglected, rather;
	And then when poison'd hours had bound me up
	From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may,
	I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty
	Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power
	Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia,
	To have me out of Egypt, made wars here;
	For which myself, the ignorant motive, do
	So far ask pardon as befits mine honour
	To stoop in such a case.

LEPIDUS	'Tis noble spoken.

MECAENAS	If it might please you, to enforce no further
	The griefs between ye: to forget them quite
	Were to remember that the present need
	Speaks to atone you.

LEPIDUS	Worthily spoken, Mecaenas.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Or, if you borrow one another's love for the
	instant, you may, when you hear no more words of
	Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to
	wrangle in when you have nothing else to do.

MARK ANTONY	Thou art a soldier only: speak no more.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	That truth should be silent I had almost forgot.

MARK ANTONY	You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Go to, then; your considerate stone.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I do not much dislike the matter, but
	The manner of his speech; for't cannot be
	We shall remain in friendship, our conditions
	So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew
	What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge
	O' the world I would pursue it.

AGRIPPA	Give me leave, Caesar,--

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Speak, Agrippa.

AGRIPPA	Thou hast a sister by the mother's side,
	Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony
	Is now a widower.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Say not so, Agrippa:
	If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof
	Were well deserved of rashness.

MARK ANTONY	I am not married, Caesar: let me hear
	Agrippa further speak.

AGRIPPA	To hold you in perpetual amity,
	To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts
	With an unslipping knot, take Antony
	Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims
	No worse a husband than the best of men;
	Whose virtue and whose general graces speak
	That which none else can utter. By this marriage,
	All little jealousies, which now seem great,
	And all great fears, which now import their dangers,
	Would then be nothing: truths would be tales,
	Where now half tales be truths: her love to both
	Would, each to other and all loves to both,
	Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke;
	For 'tis a studied, not a present thought,
	By duty ruminated.

MARK ANTONY	                  Will Caesar speak?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd
	With what is spoke already.

MARK ANTONY	What power is in Agrippa,
	If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,'
	To make this good?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  The power of Caesar, and
	His power unto Octavia.

MARK ANTONY	May I never
	To this good purpose, that so fairly shows,
	Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand:
	Further this act of grace: and from this hour
	The heart of brothers govern in our loves
	And sway our great designs!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	There is my hand.
	A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother
	Did ever love so dearly: let her live
	To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never
	Fly off our loves again!

LEPIDUS	Happily, amen!

MARK ANTONY	I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey;
	For he hath laid strange courtesies and great
	Of late upon me: I must thank him only,
	Lest my remembrance suffer ill report;
	At heel of that, defy him.

LEPIDUS	Time calls upon's:
	Of us must Pompey presently be sought,
	Or else he seeks out us.

MARK ANTONY	Where lies he?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	About the mount Misenum.

MARK ANTONY	What is his strength by land?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Great and increasing: but by sea
	He is an absolute master.

MARK ANTONY	So is the fame.
	Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it:
	Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we
	The business we have talk'd of.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	With most gladness:
	And do invite you to my sister's view,
	Whither straight I'll lead you.

MARK ANTONY	Let us, Lepidus,
	Not lack your company.

LEPIDUS	Noble Antony,
	Not sickness should detain me.

	[Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY,
	and LEPIDUS]

MECAENAS	Welcome from Egypt, sir.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My
	honourable friend, Agrippa!

AGRIPPA	Good Enobarbus!

MECAENAS	We have cause to be glad that matters are so well
	digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and
	made the night light with drinking.

MECAENAS	Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and
	but twelve persons there; is this true?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more
	monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting.

MECAENAS	She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to
	her.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up
	his heart, upon the river of Cydnus.

AGRIPPA	There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised
	well for her.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I will tell you.
	The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne,
	Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
	Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
	The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
	Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
	The water which they beat to follow faster,
	As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
	It beggar'd all description: she did lie
	In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue--
	O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
	The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
	Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
	With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem
	To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
	And what they undid did.

AGRIPPA	O, rare for Antony!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
	So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes,
	And made their bends adornings: at the helm
	A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle
	Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
	That yarely frame the office. From the barge
	A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
	Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
	Her people out upon her; and Antony,
	Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone,
	Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
	Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
	And made a gap in nature.

AGRIPPA	Rare Egyptian!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Upon her landing, Antony sent to her,
	Invited her to supper: she replied,
	It should be better he became her guest;
	Which she entreated: our courteous Antony,
	Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak,
	Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast,
	And for his ordinary pays his heart
	For what his eyes eat only.

AGRIPPA	Royal wench!
	She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed:
	He plough'd her, and she cropp'd.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I saw her once
	Hop forty paces through the public street;
	And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
	That she did make defect perfection,
	And, breathless, power breathe forth.

MECAENAS	Now Antony must leave her utterly.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Never; he will not:
	Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
	Her infinite variety: other women cloy
	The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry
	Where most she satisfies; for vilest things
	Become themselves in her: that the holy priests
	Bless her when she is riggish.

MECAENAS	If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle
	The heart of Antony, Octavia is
	A blessed lottery to him.

AGRIPPA	Let us go.
	Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest
	Whilst you abide here.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Humbly, sir, I thank you.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE III	The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between
	them, and Attendants]

MARK ANTONY	The world and my great office will sometimes
	Divide me from your bosom.

OCTAVIA	All which time
	Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers
	To them for you.

MARK ANTONY	                  Good night, sir. My Octavia,
	Read not my blemishes in the world's report:
	I have not kept my square; but that to come
	Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady.
	Good night, sir.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Good night.

	[Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA]

	[Enter Soothsayer]

MARK ANTONY	Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt?

Soothsayer	Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither!

MARK ANTONY	If you can, your reason?

Soothsayer	I see it in
	My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet
	Hie you to Egypt again.

MARK ANTONY	Say to me,
	Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine?

Soothsayer	Caesar's.
	Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side:
	Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is
	Noble, courageous high, unmatchable,
	Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel
	Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore
	Make space enough between you.

MARK ANTONY	Speak this no more.

Soothsayer	To none but thee; no more, but when to thee.
	If thou dost play with him at any game,
	Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck,
	He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens,
	When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit
	Is all afraid to govern thee near him;
	But, he away, 'tis noble.

MARK ANTONY	Get thee gone:
	Say to Ventidius I would speak with him:

	[Exit Soothsayer]

	He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap,
	He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him;
	And in our sports my better cunning faints
	Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds;
	His cocks do win the battle still of mine,
	When it is all to nought; and his quails ever
	Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt:
	And though I make this marriage for my peace,
	I' the east my pleasure lies.

	[Enter VENTIDIUS]

		        O, come, Ventidius,
	You must to Parthia: your commission's ready;
	Follow me, and receive't.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE IV	The same. A street.


	[Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA]

LEPIDUS	Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten
	Your generals after.

AGRIPPA	Sir, Mark Antony
	Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow.

LEPIDUS	Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress,
	Which will become you both, farewell.

MECAENAS	We shall,
	As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount
	Before you, Lepidus.

LEPIDUS	Your way is shorter;
	My purposes do draw me much about:
	You'll win two days upon me.


MECAENAS	|
	|	Sir, good success!
AGRIPPA	|


LEPIDUS	Farewell.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE V	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]

CLEOPATRA	Give me some music; music, moody food
	Of us that trade in love.

Attendants	The music, ho!

	[Enter MARDIAN]

CLEOPATRA	Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian.

CHARMIAN	My arm is sore; best play with Mardian.

CLEOPATRA	As well a woman with an eunuch play'd
	As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir?

MARDIAN	As well as I can, madam.

CLEOPATRA	And when good will is show'd, though't come
	too short,
	The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now:
	Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there,
	My music playing far off, I will betray
	Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce
	Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up,
	I'll think them every one an Antony,
	And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.'

CHARMIAN	'Twas merry when
	You wager'd on your angling; when your diver
	Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he
	With fervency drew up.

CLEOPATRA	That time,--O times!--
	I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night
	I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn,
	Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed;
	Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst
	I wore his sword Philippan.

	[Enter a Messenger]

		      O, from Italy
	Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears,
	That long time have been barren.

Messenger	Madam, madam,--

CLEOPATRA	Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain,
	Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free,
	If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here
	My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings
	Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

Messenger	First, madam, he is well.

CLEOPATRA	Why, there's more gold.
	But, sirrah, mark, we use
	To say the dead are well: bring it to that,
	The gold I give thee will I melt and pour
	Down thy ill-uttering throat.

Messenger	Good madam, hear me.

CLEOPATRA	Well, go to, I will;
	But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony
	Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour
	To trumpet such good tidings! If not well,
	Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes,
	Not like a formal man.

Messenger	Will't please you hear me?

CLEOPATRA	I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:
	Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well,
	Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him,
	I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail
	Rich pearls upon thee.

Messenger	Madam, he's well.

CLEOPATRA	Well said.

Messenger	And friends with Caesar.

CLEOPATRA	Thou'rt an honest man.

Messenger	Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.

CLEOPATRA	Make thee a fortune from me.

Messenger	But yet, madam,--

CLEOPATRA	I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay
	The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'!
	'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth
	Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend,
	Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
	The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar:
	In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free.

Messenger	Free, madam! no; I made no such report:
	He's bound unto Octavia.

CLEOPATRA	For what good turn?

Messenger	For the best turn i' the bed.

CLEOPATRA	I am pale, Charmian.

Messenger	Madam, he's married to Octavia.

CLEOPATRA	The most infectious pestilence upon thee!

	[Strikes him down]

Messenger	Good madam, patience.

CLEOPATRA	What say you? Hence,

	[Strikes him again]

	Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes
	Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head:

	[She hales him up and down]

	Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,
	Smarting in lingering pickle.

Messenger	Gracious madam,
	I that do bring the news made not the match.

CLEOPATRA	Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee,
	And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst
	Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage;
	And I will boot thee with what gift beside
	Thy modesty can beg.

Messenger	He's married, madam.

CLEOPATRA	Rogue, thou hast lived too long.

	[Draws a knife]

Messenger	Nay, then I'll run.
	What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.

	[Exit]

CHARMIAN	Good madam, keep yourself within yourself:
	The man is innocent.

CLEOPATRA	Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt.
	Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures
	Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again:
	Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call.

CHARMIAN	He is afeard to come.

CLEOPATRA	I will not hurt him.

	[Exit CHARMIAN]

	These hands do lack nobility, that they strike
	A meaner than myself; since I myself
	Have given myself the cause.

	[Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger]

		       Come hither, sir.
	Though it be honest, it is never good
	To bring bad news: give to a gracious message.
	An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell
	Themselves when they be felt.

Messenger	I have done my duty.

CLEOPATRA	Is he married?
	I cannot hate thee worser than I do,
	If thou again say 'Yes.'

Messenger	He's married, madam.

CLEOPATRA	The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?

Messenger	Should I lie, madam?

CLEOPATRA	O, I would thou didst,
	So half my Egypt were submerged and made
	A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence:
	Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me
	Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married?

Messenger	I crave your highness' pardon.

CLEOPATRA	He is married?

Messenger	Take no offence that I would not offend you:
	To punish me for what you make me do.
	Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia.

CLEOPATRA	O, that his fault should make a knave of thee,
	That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence:
	The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome
	Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand,
	And be undone by 'em!

	[Exit Messenger]

CHARMIAN	Good your highness, patience.

CLEOPATRA	In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar.

CHARMIAN	Many times, madam.

CLEOPATRA	                  I am paid for't now.
	Lead me from hence:
	I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter.
	Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him
	Report the feature of Octavia, her years,
	Her inclination, let him not leave out
	The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly.

	[Exit ALEXAS]

	Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian,
	Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon,
	The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas

	[To MARDIAN]

	Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian,
	But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II



SCENE VI	Near Misenum.


	[Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door,
	with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR,
	MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS,
	with Soldiers marching]

POMPEY	Your hostages I have, so have you mine;
	And we shall talk before we fight.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most meet
	That first we come to words; and therefore have we
	Our written purposes before us sent;
	Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know
	If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword,
	And carry back to Sicily much tall youth
	That else must perish here.

POMPEY	To you all three,
	The senators alone of this great world,
	Chief factors for the gods, I do not know
	Wherefore my father should revengers want,
	Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar,
	Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted,
	There saw you labouring for him. What was't
	That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what
	Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus,
	With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom,
	To drench the Capitol; but that they would
	Have one man but a man? And that is it
	Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen
	The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant
	To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome
	Cast on my noble father.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Take your time.

MARK ANTONY	Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails;
	We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st
	How much we do o'er-count thee.

POMPEY	At land, indeed,
	Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house:
	But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
	Remain in't as thou mayst.

LEPIDUS	Be pleased to tell us--
	For this is from the present--how you take
	The offers we have sent you.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	There's the point.

MARK ANTONY	Which do not be entreated to, but weigh
	What it is worth embraced.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	And what may follow,
	To try a larger fortune.

POMPEY	You have made me offer
	Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must
	Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send
	Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon
	To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back
	Our targes undinted.


OCTAVIUS CAESAR	|
	|
MARK ANTONY	|  That's our offer.
	|
LEPIDUS	|


POMPEY	Know, then,
	I came before you here a man prepared
	To take this offer: but Mark Antony
	Put me to some impatience: though I lose
	The praise of it by telling, you must know,
	When Caesar and your brother were at blows,
	Your mother came to Sicily and did find
	Her welcome friendly.

MARK ANTONY	I have heard it, Pompey;
	And am well studied for a liberal thanks
	Which I do owe you.

POMPEY	Let me have your hand:
	I did not think, sir, to have met you here.

MARK ANTONY	The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you,
	That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither;
	For I have gain'd by 't.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Since I saw you last,
	There is a change upon you.

POMPEY	Well, I know not
	What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face;
	But in my bosom shall she never come,
	To make my heart her vassal.

LEPIDUS	Well met here.

POMPEY	I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed:
	I crave our composition may be written,
	And seal'd between us.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	That's the next to do.

POMPEY	We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's
	Draw lots who shall begin.

MARK ANTONY	That will I, Pompey.

POMPEY	No, Antony, take the lot: but, first
	Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery
	Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar
	Grew fat with feasting there.

MARK ANTONY	You have heard much.

POMPEY	I have fair meanings, sir.

MARK ANTONY	And fair words to them.

POMPEY	Then so much have I heard:
	And I have heard, Apollodorus carried--

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	No more of that: he did so.

POMPEY	What, I pray you?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress.

POMPEY	I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Well;
	And well am like to do; for, I perceive,
	Four feasts are toward.

POMPEY	Let me shake thy hand;
	I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight,
	When I have envied thy behavior.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Sir,
	I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye,
	When you have well deserved ten times as much
	As I have said you did.

POMPEY	Enjoy thy plainness,
	It nothing ill becomes thee.
	Aboard my galley I invite you all:
	Will you lead, lords?


OCTAVIUS CAESAR	|
	|
MARK ANTONY	|  Show us the way, sir.
	|
LEPIDUS	|


POMPEY	Come.

	[Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS]

MENAS	[Aside]  Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have
	made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	At sea, I think.

MENAS	We have, sir.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	You have done well by water.

MENAS	And you by land.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I will praise any man that will praise me; though it
	cannot be denied what I have done by land.

MENAS	Nor what I have done by water.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Yes, something you can deny for your own
	safety: you have been a great thief by sea.

MENAS	And you by land.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	There I deny my land service. But give me your
	hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they
	might take two thieves kissing.

MENAS	All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But there is never a fair woman has a true face.

MENAS	No slander; they steal hearts.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	We came hither to fight with you.

MENAS	For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking.
	Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again.

MENAS	You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony
	here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Caesar's sister is called Octavia.

MENAS	True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius.

MENAS	Pray ye, sir?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	'Tis true.

MENAS	Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would
	not prophesy so.

MENAS	I think the policy of that purpose made more in the
	marriage than the love of the parties.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I think so too. But you shall find, the band that
	seems to tie their friendship together will be the
	very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a
	holy, cold, and still conversation.

MENAS	Who would not have his wife so?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony.
	He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the
	sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as
	I said before, that which is the strength of their
	amity shall prove the immediate author of their
	variance. Antony will use his affection where it is:
	he married but his occasion here.

MENAS	And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard?
	I have a health for you.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt.

MENAS	Come, let's away.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT II


SCENE VII	On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum.


	[Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with
	a banquet]

First Servant	Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are
	ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world
	will blow them down.

Second Servant	Lepidus is high-coloured.

First Servant	They have made him drink alms-drink.

Second Servant	As they pinch one another by the disposition, he
	cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his
	entreaty, and himself to the drink.

First Servant	But it raises the greater war between him and
	his discretion.

Second Servant	Why, this is to have a name in great men's
	fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do
	me no service as a partisan I could not heave.

First Servant	To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen
	to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be,
	which pitifully disaster the cheeks.

	[A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK
	ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS,
	DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains]

MARK ANTONY	[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR]  Thus do they, sir: they take
	the flow o' the Nile
	By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know,
	By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth
	Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells,
	The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman
	Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain,
	And shortly comes to harvest.

LEPIDUS	You've strange serpents there.

MARK ANTONY	Ay, Lepidus.

LEPIDUS	Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the
	operation of your sun: so is your crocodile.

MARK ANTONY	They are so.

POMPEY	Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus!

LEPIDUS	I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then.

LEPIDUS	Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies'
	pyramises are very goodly things; without
	contradiction, I have heard that.

MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  Pompey, a word.

POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]                 Say in mine ear:
	what is't?

MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  Forsake thy seat, I do beseech
	thee, captain,
	And hear me speak a word.

POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  Forbear me till anon.
	This wine for Lepidus!

LEPIDUS	What manner o' thing is your crocodile?

MARK ANTONY	It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad
	as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is,
	and moves with its own organs: it lives by that
	which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of
	it, it transmigrates.

LEPIDUS	What colour is it of?

MARK ANTONY	Of it own colour too.

LEPIDUS	'Tis a strange serpent.

MARK ANTONY	'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Will this description satisfy him?

MARK ANTONY	With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a
	very epicure.

POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of
	that? away!
	Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for?

MENAS	[Aside to POMPEY]  If for the sake of merit thou
	wilt hear me,
	Rise from thy stool.

POMPEY	[Aside to MENAS]  I think thou'rt mad.
	The matter?

	[Rises, and walks aside]

MENAS	I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes.

POMPEY	Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say?
	Be jolly, lords.

MARK ANTONY	                  These quick-sands, Lepidus,
	Keep off them, for you sink.

MENAS	Wilt thou be lord of all the world?

POMPEY	What say'st thou?

MENAS	Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice.

POMPEY	How should that be?

MENAS	But entertain it,
	And, though thou think me poor, I am the man
	Will give thee all the world.

POMPEY	Hast thou drunk well?

MENAS	Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup.
	Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove:
	Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips,
	Is thine, if thou wilt ha't.

POMPEY	Show me which way.

MENAS	These three world-sharers, these competitors,
	Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable;
	And, when we are put off, fall to their throats:
	All there is thine.

POMPEY	Ah, this thou shouldst have done,
	And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany;
	In thee't had been good service. Thou must know,
	'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour;
	Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue
	Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown,
	I should have found it afterwards well done;
	But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink.

MENAS	[Aside]  For this,
	I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more.
	Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd,
	Shall never find it more.

POMPEY	This health to Lepidus!

MARK ANTONY	Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Here's to thee, Menas!

MENAS	Enobarbus, welcome!

POMPEY	Fill till the cup be hid.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	There's a strong fellow, Menas.

	[Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS]

MENAS	Why?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st
	not?

MENAS	The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all,
	That it might go on wheels!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Drink thou; increase the reels.

MENAS	Come.

POMPEY	This is not yet an Alexandrian feast.

MARK ANTONY	It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho?
	Here is to Caesar!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I could well forbear't.
	It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain,
	And it grows fouler.

MARK ANTONY	Be a child o' the time.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Possess it, I'll make answer:
	But I had rather fast from all four days
	Than drink so much in one.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ha, my brave emperor!

	[To MARK ANTONY]

	Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,
	And celebrate our drink?

POMPEY	Let's ha't, good soldier.

MARK ANTONY	Come, let's all take hands,
	Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense
	In soft and delicate Lethe.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	All take hands.
	Make battery to our ears with the loud music:
	The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing;
	The holding every man shall bear as loud
	As his strong sides can volley.

	[Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them
	hand in hand]
	THE SONG.

	Come, thou monarch of the vine,
	Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
	In thy fats our cares be drown'd,
	With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd:
	Cup us, till the world go round,
	Cup us, till the world go round!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother,
	Let me request you off: our graver business
	Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part;
	You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb
	Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue
	Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost
	Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night.
	Good Antony, your hand.

POMPEY	I'll try you on the shore.

MARK ANTONY	And shall, sir; give's your hand.

POMPEY	O Antony,
	You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends.
	Come, down into the boat.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Take heed you fall not.

	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS]

	Menas, I'll not on shore.

MENAS	No, to my cabin.
	These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what!
	Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell
	To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out!

	[Sound a flourish, with drums]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ho! says a' There's my cap.

MENAS	Ho! Noble captain, come.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE I	A plain in Syria.


	[Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS,
	and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead
	body of PACORUS borne before him]

VENTIDIUS	Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now
	Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death
	Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body
	Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes,
	Pays this for Marcus Crassus.

SILIUS	Noble Ventidius,
	Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm,
	The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media,
	Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither
	The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony
	Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and
	Put garlands on thy head.

VENTIDIUS	O Silius, Silius,
	I have done enough; a lower place, note well,
	May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius;
	Better to leave undone, than by our deed
	Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away.
	Caesar and Antony have ever won
	More in their officer than person: Sossius,
	One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant,
	For quick accumulation of renown,
	Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour.
	Who does i' the wars more than his captain can
	Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition,
	The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss,
	Than gain which darkens him.
	I could do more to do Antonius good,
	But 'twould offend him; and in his offence
	Should my performance perish.

SILIUS	Thou hast, Ventidius,
	that
	Without the which a soldier, and his sword,
	Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony!

VENTIDIUS	I'll humbly signify what in his name,
	That magical word of war, we have effected;
	How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks,
	The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia
	We have jaded out o' the field.

SILIUS	Where is he now?

VENTIDIUS	He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste
	The weight we must convey with's will permit,
	We shall appear before him. On there; pass along!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE II	Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.


	[Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS
	at another]

AGRIPPA	What, are the brothers parted?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone;
	The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps
	To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus,
	Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled
	With the green sickness.

AGRIPPA	'Tis a noble Lepidus.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar!

AGRIPPA	Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men.

AGRIPPA	What's Antony? The god of Jupiter.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil!

AGRIPPA	O Antony! O thou Arabian bird!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further.

AGRIPPA	Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony:
	Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards,
	poets, cannot
	Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho!
	His love to Antony. But as for Caesar,
	Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder.

AGRIPPA	Both he loves.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	They are his shards, and he their beetle.

	[Trumpets within]
			So;
	This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa.

AGRIPPA	Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell.

	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA]

MARK ANTONY	No further, sir.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You take from me a great part of myself;
	Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife
	As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band
	Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony,
	Let not the piece of virtue, which is set
	Betwixt us as the cement of our love,
	To keep it builded, be the ram to batter
	The fortress of it; for better might we
	Have loved without this mean, if on both parts
	This be not cherish'd.

MARK ANTONY	Make me not offended
	In your distrust.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  I have said.

MARK ANTONY	You shall not find,
	Though you be therein curious, the least cause
	For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you,
	And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends!
	We will here part.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well:
	The elements be kind to thee, and make
	Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well.

OCTAVIA	My noble brother!

MARK ANTONY	The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring,
	And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful.

OCTAVIA	Sir, look well to my husband's house; and--

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What, Octavia?

OCTAVIA	       I'll tell you in your ear.

MARK ANTONY	Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can
	Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's
	down-feather,
	That stands upon the swell at full of tide,
	And neither way inclines.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  Will Caesar weep?

AGRIPPA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  He has a cloud in 's face.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  He were the worse for that,
	were he a horse;
	So is he, being a man.

AGRIPPA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  Why, Enobarbus,
	When Antony found Julius Caesar dead,
	He cried almost to roaring; and he wept
	When at Philippi he found Brutus slain.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to AGRIPPA]  That year, indeed, he was
	troubled with a rheum;
	What willingly he did confound he wail'd,
	Believe't, till I wept too.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No, sweet Octavia,
	You shall hear from me still; the time shall not
	Out-go my thinking on you.

MARK ANTONY	Come, sir, come;
	I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love:
	Look, here I have you; thus I let you go,
	And give you to the gods.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Adieu; be happy!

LEPIDUS	Let all the number of the stars give light
	To thy fair way!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Farewell, farewell!

	[Kisses OCTAVIA]

MARK ANTONY	Farewell!

	[Trumpets sound. Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE III	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS]

CLEOPATRA	Where is the fellow?

ALEXAS	Half afeard to come.

CLEOPATRA	Go to, go to.

	[Enter the Messenger as before]

	Come hither, sir.

ALEXAS	Good majesty,
	Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
	But when you are well pleased.

CLEOPATRA	That Herod's head
	I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone
	Through whom I might command it? Come thou near.

Messenger	Most gracious majesty,--

CLEOPATRA	Didst thou behold Octavia?

Messenger	Ay, dread queen.

CLEOPATRA	Where?

Messenger	Madam, in Rome;
	I look'd her in the face, and saw her led
	Between her brother and Mark Antony.

CLEOPATRA	Is she as tall as me?

Messenger	She is not, madam.

CLEOPATRA	Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low?

Messenger	Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced.

CLEOPATRA	That's not so good: he cannot like her long.

CHARMIAN	Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible.

CLEOPATRA	I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish!
	What majesty is in her gait? Remember,
	If e'er thou look'dst on majesty.

Messenger	She creeps:
	Her motion and her station are as one;
	She shows a body rather than a life,
	A statue than a breather.

CLEOPATRA	Is this certain?

Messenger	Or I have no observance.

CHARMIAN	Three in Egypt
	Cannot make better note.

CLEOPATRA	He's very knowing;
	I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet:
	The fellow has good judgment.

CHARMIAN	Excellent.

CLEOPATRA	Guess at her years, I prithee.

Messenger	Madam,
	She was a widow,--

CLEOPATRA	                  Widow! Charmian, hark.

Messenger	And I do think she's thirty.

CLEOPATRA	Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round?

Messenger	Round even to faultiness.

CLEOPATRA	For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so.
	Her hair, what colour?

Messenger	Brown, madam: and her forehead
	As low as she would wish it.

CLEOPATRA	There's gold for thee.
	Thou must not take my former sharpness ill:
	I will employ thee back again; I find thee
	Most fit for business: go make thee ready;
	Our letters are prepared.

	[Exit Messenger]

CHARMIAN	A proper man.

CLEOPATRA	Indeed, he is so: I repent me much
	That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him,
	This creature's no such thing.

CHARMIAN	Nothing, madam.

CLEOPATRA	The man hath seen some majesty, and should know.

CHARMIAN	Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend,
	And serving you so long!

CLEOPATRA	I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian:
	But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me
	Where I will write. All may be well enough.

CHARMIAN	I warrant you, madam.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III


SCENE IV	Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA]

MARK ANTONY	Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,--
	That were excusable, that, and thousands more
	Of semblable import,--but he hath waged
	New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it
	To public ear:
	Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not
	But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly
	He vented them; most narrow measure lent me:
	When the best hint was given him, he not took't,
	Or did it from his teeth.

OCTAVIA	O my good lord,
	Believe not all; or, if you must believe,
	Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady,
	If this division chance, ne'er stood between,
	Praying for both parts:
	The good gods me presently,
	When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!'
	Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud,
	'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother,
	Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway
	'Twixt these extremes at all.

MARK ANTONY	Gentle Octavia,
	Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks
	Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour,
	I lose myself: better I were not yours
	Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested,
	Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady,
	I'll raise the preparation of a war
	Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste;
	So your desires are yours.

OCTAVIA	Thanks to my lord.
	The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak,
	Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be
	As if the world should cleave, and that slain men
	Should solder up the rift.

MARK ANTONY	When it appears to you where this begins,
	Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults
	Can never be so equal, that your love
	Can equally move with them. Provide your going;
	Choose your own company, and command what cost
	Your heart has mind to.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE V	The same. Another room.


	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	How now, friend Eros!

EROS	There's strange news come, sir.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What, man?

EROS	Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	This is old: what is the success?

EROS	Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst
	Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let
	him partake in the glory of the action: and not
	resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly
	wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so
	the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more;
	And throw between them all the food thou hast,
	They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony?

EROS	He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns
	The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!'
	And threats the throat of that his officer
	That murder'd Pompey.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Our great navy's rigg'd.

EROS	For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius;
	My lord desires you presently: my news
	I might have told hereafter.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	'Twill be naught:
	But let it be. Bring me to Antony.

EROS	Come, sir.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE VI	Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more,
	In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't:
	I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd,
	Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold
	Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat
	Caesarion, whom they call my father's son,
	And all the unlawful issue that their lust
	Since then hath made between them. Unto her
	He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her
	Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia,
	Absolute queen.

MECAENAS	                  This in the public eye?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I' the common show-place, where they exercise.
	His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings:
	Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia.
	He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd
	Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she
	In the habiliments of the goddess Isis
	That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience,
	As 'tis reported, so.

MECAENAS	Let Rome be thus Inform'd.

AGRIPPA	Who, queasy with his insolence
	Already, will their good thoughts call from him.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The people know it; and have now received
	His accusations.

AGRIPPA	                  Who does he accuse?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Caesar: and that, having in Sicily
	Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him
	His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me
	Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets
	That Lepidus of the triumvirate
	Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain
	All his revenue.

AGRIPPA	                  Sir, this should be answer'd.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	'Tis done already, and the messenger gone.
	I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel;
	That he his high authority abused,
	And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd,
	I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia,
	And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I
	Demand the like.

MECAENAS	                  He'll never yield to that.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nor must not then be yielded to in this.

	[Enter OCTAVIA with her train]

OCTAVIA	Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	That ever I should call thee castaway!

OCTAVIA	You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not
	Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony
	Should have an army for an usher, and
	The neighs of horse to tell of her approach
	Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way
	Should have borne men; and expectation fainted,
	Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust
	Should have ascended to the roof of heaven,
	Raised by your populous troops: but you are come
	A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented
	The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown,
	Is often left unloved; we should have met you
	By sea and land; supplying every stage
	With an augmented greeting.

OCTAVIA	Good my lord,
	To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did
	On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony,
	Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted
	My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd
	His pardon for return.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Which soon he granted,
	Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him.

OCTAVIA	Do not say so, my lord.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	I have eyes upon him,
	And his affairs come to me on the wind.
	Where is he now?

OCTAVIA	                  My lord, in Athens.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra
	Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire
	Up to a whore; who now are levying
	The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled
	Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus,
	Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king
	Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas;
	King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont;
	Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king
	Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas,
	The kings of Mede and Lycaonia,
	With a more larger list of sceptres.

OCTAVIA	Ay me, most wretched,
	That have my heart parted betwixt two friends
	That do afflict each other!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Welcome hither:
	Your letters did withhold our breaking forth;
	Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led,
	And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart;
	Be you not troubled with the time, which drives
	O'er your content these strong necessities;
	But let determined things to destiny
	Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome;
	Nothing more dear to me. You are abused
	Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods,
	To do you justice, make them ministers
	Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort;
	And ever welcome to us.

AGRIPPA	Welcome, lady.

MECAENAS	Welcome, dear madam.
	Each heart in Rome does love and pity you:
	Only the adulterous Antony, most large
	In his abominations, turns you off;
	And gives his potent regiment to a trull,
	That noises it against us.

OCTAVIA	Is it so, sir?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you,
	Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE VII	Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

CLEOPATRA	I will be even with thee, doubt it not.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	But why, why, why?

CLEOPATRA	Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars,
	And say'st it is not fit.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Well, is it, is it?

CLEOPATRA	If not denounced against us, why should not we
	Be there in person?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Well, I could reply:
	If we should serve with horse and mares together,
	The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear
	A soldier and his horse.

CLEOPATRA	What is't you say?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Your presence needs must puzzle Antony;
	Take from his heart, take from his brain,
	from's time,
	What should not then be spared. He is already
	Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome
	That Photinus an eunuch and your maids
	Manage this war.

CLEOPATRA	                  Sink Rome, and their tongues rot
	That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war,
	And, as the president of my kingdom, will
	Appear there for a man. Speak not against it:
	I will not stay behind.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Nay, I have done.
	Here comes the emperor.

	[Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS]

MARK ANTONY	Is it not strange, Canidius,
	That from Tarentum and Brundusium
	He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea,
	And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet?

CLEOPATRA	Celerity is never more admired
	Than by the negligent.

MARK ANTONY	A good rebuke,
	Which might have well becomed the best of men,
	To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we
	Will fight with him by sea.

CLEOPATRA	By sea! what else?

CANIDIUS	Why will my lord do so?

MARK ANTONY	For that he dares us to't.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	So hath my lord dared him to single fight.

CANIDIUS	Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia.
	Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers,
	Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off;
	And so should you.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  Your ships are not well mann'd;
	Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people
	Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet
	Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought:
	Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace
	Shall fall you for refusing him at sea,
	Being prepared for land.

MARK ANTONY	By sea, by sea.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Most worthy sir, you therein throw away
	The absolute soldiership you have by land;
	Distract your army, which doth most consist
	Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted
	Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego
	The way which promises assurance; and
	Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard,
	From firm security.

MARK ANTONY	I'll fight at sea.

CLEOPATRA	I have sixty sails, Caesar none better.

MARK ANTONY	Our overplus of shipping will we burn;
	And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium
	Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail,
	We then can do't at land.

	[Enter a Messenger]

		    Thy business?

Messenger	The news is true, my lord; he is descried;
	Caesar has taken Toryne.

MARK ANTONY	Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible;
	Strange that power should be. Canidius,
	Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land,
	And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship:
	Away, my Thetis!

	[Enter a Soldier]

	How now, worthy soldier?

Soldier	O noble emperor, do not fight by sea;
	Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt
	This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians
	And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we
	Have used to conquer, standing on the earth,
	And fighting foot to foot.

MARK ANTONY	Well, well: away!

	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS
	ENOBARBUS]

Soldier	By Hercules, I think I am i' the right.

CANIDIUS	Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows
	Not in the power on't: so our leader's led,
	And we are women's men.

Soldier	You keep by land
	The legions and the horse whole, do you not?

CANIDIUS	Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius,
	Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea:
	But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's
	Carries beyond belief.

Soldier	While he was yet in Rome,
	His power went out in such distractions as
	Beguiled all spies.

CANIDIUS	Who's his lieutenant, hear you?

Soldier	They say, one Taurus.

CANIDIUS	Well I know the man.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	The emperor calls Canidius.

CANIDIUS	With news the time's with labour, and throes forth,
	Each minute, some.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE VIII	A plain near Actium.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Taurus!

TAURUS	My lord?

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle,
	Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed
	The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies
	Upon this jump.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE IX	Another part of the plain.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

MARK ANTONY	Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill,
	In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place
	We may the number of the ships behold,
	And so proceed accordingly.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III


SCENE X	Another part of the plain.


	[CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over
	the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS
	CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is
	heard the noise of a sea-fight]

	[Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer:
	The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral,
	With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder:
	To see't mine eyes are blasted.

	[Enter SCARUS]

SCARUS	Gods and goddesses,
	All the whole synod of them!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What's thy passion!

SCARUS	The greater cantle of the world is lost
	With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away
	Kingdoms and provinces.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	How appears the fight?

SCARUS	On our side like the token'd pestilence,
	Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,--
	Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight,
	When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd,
	Both as the same, or rather ours the elder,
	The breese upon her, like a cow in June,
	Hoists sails and flies.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	That I beheld:
	Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not
	Endure a further view.

SCARUS	She once being loof'd,
	The noble ruin of her magic, Antony,
	Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard,
	Leaving the fight in height, flies after her:
	I never saw an action of such shame;
	Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before
	Did violate so itself.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alack, alack!

	[Enter CANIDIUS]

CANIDIUS	Our fortune on the sea is out of breath,
	And sinks most lamentably. Had our general
	Been what he knew himself, it had gone well:
	O, he has given example for our flight,
	Most grossly, by his own!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Ay, are you thereabouts?
	Why, then, good night indeed.

CANIDIUS	Toward Peloponnesus are they fled.

SCARUS	'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend
	What further comes.

CANIDIUS	To Caesar will I render
	My legions and my horse: six kings already
	Show me the way of yielding.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I'll yet follow
	The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason
	Sits in the wind against me.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE XI	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants]

MARK ANTONY	Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't;
	It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither:
	I am so lated in the world, that I
	Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship
	Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
	And make your peace with Caesar.

All	Fly! not we.

MARK ANTONY	I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
	To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
	I have myself resolved upon a course
	Which has no need of you; be gone:
	My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O,
	I follow'd that I blush to look upon:
	My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
	Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them
	For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall
	Have letters from me to some friends that will
	Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad,
	Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint
	Which my despair proclaims; let that be left
	Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway:
	I will possess you of that ship and treasure.
	Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now:
	Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command,
	Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by.

	[Sits down]

	[Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS
	following]

EROS	Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him.

IRAS	Do, most dear queen.

CHARMIAN	Do! why: what else?

CLEOPATRA	Let me sit down. O Juno!

MARK ANTONY	No, no, no, no, no.

EROS	See you here, sir?

MARK ANTONY	O fie, fie, fie!

CHARMIAN	Madam!

IRAS	Madam, O good empress!

EROS	Sir, sir,--

MARK ANTONY	Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
	His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck
	The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I
	That the mad Brutus ended: he alone
	Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had
	In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter.

CLEOPATRA	Ah, stand by.

EROS	The queen, my lord, the queen.

IRAS	Go to him, madam, speak to him:
	He is unqualitied with very shame.

CLEOPATRA	Well then, sustain him: O!

EROS	Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches:
	Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but
	Your comfort makes the rescue.

MARK ANTONY	I have offended reputation,
	A most unnoble swerving.

EROS	Sir, the queen.

MARK ANTONY	O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
	How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
	By looking back what I have left behind
	'Stroy'd in dishonour.

CLEOPATRA	O my lord, my lord,
	Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
	You would have follow'd.

MARK ANTONY	Egypt, thou knew'st too well
	My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
	And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit
	Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that
	Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
	Command me.

CLEOPATRA	          O, my pardon!

MARK ANTONY	Now I must
	To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
	And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
	With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased,
	Making and marring fortunes. You did know
	How much you were my conqueror; and that
	My sword, made weak by my affection, would
	Obey it on all cause.

CLEOPATRA	Pardon, pardon!

MARK ANTONY	Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
	All that is won and lost: give me a kiss;
	Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster;
	Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead.
	Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows
	We scorn her most when most she offers blows.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE XII	Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let him appear that's come from Antony.
	Know you him?

DOLABELLA	                  Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster:
	An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither
	He sends so poor a pinion off his wing,
	Which had superfluous kings for messengers
	Not many moons gone by.

	[Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Approach, and speak.

EUPHRONIUS	Such as I am, I come from Antony:
	I was of late as petty to his ends
	As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf
	To his grand sea.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Be't so: declare thine office.

EUPHRONIUS	Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and
	Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted,
	He lessens his requests; and to thee sues
	To let him breathe between the heavens and earth,
	A private man in Athens: this for him.
	Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness;
	Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves
	The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs,
	Now hazarded to thy grace.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	For Antony,
	I have no ears to his request. The queen
	Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she
	From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend,
	Or take his life there: this if she perform,
	She shall not sue unheard. So to them both.

EUPHRONIUS	Fortune pursue thee!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bring him through the bands.

	[Exit EUPHRONIUS]

	[To THYREUS]  To try eloquence, now 'tis time: dispatch;
	From Antony win Cleopatra: promise,
	And in our name, what she requires; add more,
	From thine invention, offers: women are not
	In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure
	The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus;
	Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we
	Will answer as a law.

THYREUS	Caesar, I go.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Observe how Antony becomes his flaw,
	And what thou think'st his very action speaks
	In every power that moves.

THYREUS	Caesar, I shall.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT III



SCENE XIII	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS]

CLEOPATRA	What shall we do, Enobarbus?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Think, and die.

CLEOPATRA	Is Antony or we in fault for this?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Antony only, that would make his will
	Lord of his reason. What though you fled
	From that great face of war, whose several ranges
	Frighted each other? why should he follow?
	The itch of his affection should not then
	Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point,
	When half to half the world opposed, he being
	The meered question: 'twas a shame no less
	Than was his loss, to course your flying flags,
	And leave his navy gazing.

CLEOPATRA	Prithee, peace.

	[Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador]

MARK ANTONY	Is that his answer?

EUPHRONIUS	Ay, my lord.

MARK ANTONY	The queen shall then have courtesy, so she
	Will yield us up.

EUPHRONIUS	                  He says so.

MARK ANTONY	Let her know't.
	To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head,
	And he will fill thy wishes to the brim
	With principalities.

CLEOPATRA	That head, my lord?

MARK ANTONY	To him again: tell him he wears the rose
	Of youth upon him; from which the world should note
	Something particular: his coin, ships, legions,
	May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail
	Under the service of a child as soon
	As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore
	To lay his gay comparisons apart,
	And answer me declined, sword against sword,
	Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me.

	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will
	Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show,
	Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are
	A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
	Do draw the inward quality after them,
	To suffer all alike. That he should dream,
	Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will
	Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued
	His judgment too.

	[Enter an Attendant]

Attendant	                  A messenger from CAESAR.

CLEOPATRA	What, no more ceremony? See, my women!
	Against the blown rose may they stop their nose
	That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir.

	[Exit Attendant]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  Mine honesty and I begin to square.
	The loyalty well held to fools does make
	Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure
	To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord
	Does conquer him that did his master conquer
	And earns a place i' the story.

	[Enter THYREUS]

CLEOPATRA	Caesar's will?

THYREUS	Hear it apart.

CLEOPATRA	                  None but friends: say boldly.

THYREUS	So, haply, are they friends to Antony.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has;
	Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master
	Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know,
	Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's.

THYREUS	So.
	Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats,
	Not to consider in what case thou stand'st,
	Further than he is Caesar.

CLEOPATRA	Go on: right royal.

THYREUS	He knows that you embrace not Antony
	As you did love, but as you fear'd him.

CLEOPATRA	O!

THYREUS	The scars upon your honour, therefore, he
	Does pity, as constrained blemishes,
	Not as deserved.

CLEOPATRA	                  He is a god, and knows
	What is most right: mine honour was not yielded,
	But conquer'd merely.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]             To be sure of that,
	I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky,
	That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for
	Thy dearest quit thee.

	[Exit]

THYREUS	Shall I say to Caesar
	What you require of him? for he partly begs
	To be desired to give. It much would please him,
	That of his fortunes you should make a staff
	To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits,
	To hear from me you had left Antony,
	And put yourself under his shrowd,
	The universal landlord.

CLEOPATRA	What's your name?

THYREUS	My name is Thyreus.

CLEOPATRA	Most kind messenger,
	Say to great Caesar this: in deputation
	I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt
	To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel:
	Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear
	The doom of Egypt.

THYREUS	'Tis your noblest course.
	Wisdom and fortune combating together,
	If that the former dare but what it can,
	No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay
	My duty on your hand.

CLEOPATRA	Your Caesar's father oft,
	When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in,
	Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place,
	As it rain'd kisses.

	[Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

MARK ANTONY	Favours, by Jove that thunders!
	What art thou, fellow?

THYREUS	One that but performs
	The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest
	To have command obey'd.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]               You will be whipp'd.

MARK ANTONY	Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods
	and devils!
	Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!'
	Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth,
	And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am
	Antony yet.

	[Enter Attendants]

	Take hence this Jack, and whip him.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside]  'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
	Than with an old one dying.

MARK ANTONY	Moon and stars!
	Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries
	That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them
	So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name,
	Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows,
	Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face,
	And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence.

THYREUS	Mark Antony!


MARK ANTONY	                  Tug him away: being whipp'd,
	Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall
	Bear us an errand to him.

	[Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS]

	You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha!
	Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome,
	Forborne the getting of a lawful race,
	And by a gem of women, to be abused
	By one that looks on feeders?

CLEOPATRA	Good my lord,--

MARK ANTONY	You have been a boggler ever:
	But when we in our viciousness grow hard--
	O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes;
	In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us
	Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut
	To our confusion.

CLEOPATRA	                  O, is't come to this?

MARK ANTONY	I found you as a morsel cold upon
	Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment
	Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours,
	Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have
	Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure,
	Though you can guess what temperance should be,
	You know not what it is.

CLEOPATRA	Wherefore is this?

MARK ANTONY	To let a fellow that will take rewards
	And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with
	My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal
	And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were
	Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar
	The horned herd! for I have savage cause;
	And to proclaim it civilly, were like
	A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank
	For being yare about him.

	[Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS]

		    Is he whipp'd?

First Attendant	Soundly, my lord.

MARK ANTONY	                  Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon?

First Attendant	He did ask favour.

MARK ANTONY	If that thy father live, let him repent
	Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry
	To follow Caesar in his triumph, since
	Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth
	The white hand of a lady fever thee,
	Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar,
	Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say
	He makes me angry with him; for he seems
	Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am,
	Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry;
	And at this time most easy 'tis to do't,
	When my good stars, that were my former guides,
	Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires
	Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike
	My speech and what is done, tell him he has
	Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom
	He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture,
	As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou:
	Hence with thy stripes, begone!

	[Exit THYREUS]

CLEOPATRA	Have you done yet?

MARK ANTONY	                  Alack, our terrene moon
	Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone
	The fall of Antony!

CLEOPATRA	I must stay his time.

MARK ANTONY	To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes
	With one that ties his points?

CLEOPATRA	Not know me yet?

MARK ANTONY	Cold-hearted toward me?

CLEOPATRA	Ah, dear, if I be so,
	From my cold heart let heaven engender hail,
	And poison it in the source; and the first stone
	Drop in my neck: as it determines, so
	Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite!
	Till by degrees the memory of my womb,
	Together with my brave Egyptians all,
	By the discandying of this pelleted storm,
	Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile
	Have buried them for prey!

MARK ANTONY	I am satisfied.
	Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where
	I will oppose his fate. Our force by land
	Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too
	Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like.
	Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady?
	If from the field I shall return once more
	To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood;
	I and my sword will earn our chronicle:
	There's hope in't yet.

CLEOPATRA	That's my brave lord!

MARK ANTONY	I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed,
	And fight maliciously: for when mine hours
	Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives
	Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth,
	And send to darkness all that stop me. Come,
	Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me
	All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more;
	Let's mock the midnight bell.

CLEOPATRA	It is my birth-day:
	I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord
	Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra.

MARK ANTONY	We will yet do well.

CLEOPATRA	Call all his noble captains to my lord.

MARK ANTONY	Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force
	The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen;
	There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight,
	I'll make death love me; for I will contend
	Even with his pestilent scythe.

	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious,
	Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood
	The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still,
	A diminution in our captain's brain
	Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason,
	It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek
	Some way to leave him.

	[Exit]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE I	Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with
	his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power
	To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger
	He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat,
	Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know
	I have many other ways to die; meantime
	Laugh at his challenge.

MECAENAS	Caesar must think,
	When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted
	Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now
	Make boot of his distraction: never anger
	Made good guard for itself.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let our best heads
	Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles
	We mean to fight: within our files there are,
	Of those that served Mark Antony but late,
	Enough to fetch him in. See it done:
	And feast the army; we have store to do't,
	And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE II	Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS,
	CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others]

MARK ANTONY	He will not fight with me, Domitius.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	No.

MARK ANTONY	Why should he not?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune,
	He is twenty men to one.

MARK ANTONY	To-morrow, soldier,
	By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live,
	Or bathe my dying honour in the blood
	Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.'

MARK ANTONY	Well said; come on.
	Call forth my household servants: let's to-night
	Be bounteous at our meal.

	[Enter three or four Servitors]

		    Give me thy hand,
	Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;--
	Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well,
	And kings have been your fellows.

CLEOPATRA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  What means this?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to CLEOPATRA]  'Tis one of those odd
	tricks which sorrow shoots
	Out of the mind.

MARK ANTONY	                  And thou art honest too.
	I wish I could be made so many men,
	And all of you clapp'd up together in
	An Antony, that I might do you service
	So good as you have done.

All	The gods forbid!

MARK ANTONY	Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night:
	Scant not my cups; and make as much of me
	As when mine empire was your fellow too,
	And suffer'd my command.

CLEOPATRA	[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]  What does he mean?

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	[Aside to CLEOPATRA]  To make his followers weep.

MARK ANTONY	Tend me to-night;
	May be it is the period of your duty:
	Haply you shall not see me more; or if,
	A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow
	You'll serve another master. I look on you
	As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends,
	I turn you not away; but, like a master
	Married to your good service, stay till death:
	Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more,
	And the gods yield you for't!

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	What mean you, sir,
	To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep;
	And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame,
	Transform us not to women.

MARK ANTONY	Ho, ho, ho!
	Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus!
	Grace grow where those drops fall!
	My hearty friends,
	You take me in too dolorous a sense;
	For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you
	To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts,
	I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you
	Where rather I'll expect victorious life
	Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come,
	And drown consideration.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE III	The same. Before the palace.


	[Enter two Soldiers to their guard]

First Soldier	Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day.

Second Soldier	It will determine one way: fare you well.
	Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?

First Soldier	Nothing. What news?

Second Soldier	Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you.

First Soldier	Well, sir, good night.

	[Enter two other Soldiers]

Second Soldier	Soldiers, have careful watch.

Third Soldier	And you. Good night, good night.

	[They place themselves in every corner of the stage]

Fourth Soldier	Here we: and if to-morrow
	Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope
	Our landmen will stand up.

Third Soldier	'Tis a brave army,
	And full of purpose.

	[Music of the hautboys as under the stage]

Fourth Soldier	Peace! what noise?

First Soldier	List, list!

Second Soldier	Hark!

First Soldier	    Music i' the air.

Third Soldier	Under the earth.

Fourth Soldier	It signs well, does it not?

Third Soldier	No.

First Soldier	Peace, I say!
	What should this mean?

Second Soldier	'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved,
	Now leaves him.

First Soldier	Walk; let's see if other watchmen
	Do hear what we do?

	[They advance to another post]

Second Soldier	How now, masters!

All	[Speaking together]  How now!
	How now! do you hear this?

First Soldier	Ay; is't not strange?

Third Soldier	Do you hear, masters? do you hear?

First Soldier	Follow the noise so far as we have quarter;
	Let's see how it will give off.

All	Content. 'Tis strange.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE IV	The same. A room in the palace.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and
	others attending]

MARK ANTONY	Eros! mine armour, Eros!

CLEOPATRA	Sleep a little.

MARK ANTONY	No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros!

	[Enter EROS with armour]

	Come good fellow, put mine iron on:
	If fortune be not ours to-day, it is
	Because we brave her: come.

CLEOPATRA	Nay, I'll help too.
	What's this for?

MARK ANTONY	                  Ah, let be, let be! thou art
	The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this.

CLEOPATRA	Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be.

MARK ANTONY	Well, well;
	We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow?
	Go put on thy defences.

EROS	Briefly, sir.

CLEOPATRA	Is not this buckled well?

MARK ANTONY	Rarely, rarely:
	He that unbuckles this, till we do please
	To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm.
	Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire
	More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love,
	That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st
	The royal occupation! thou shouldst see
	A workman in't.

	[Enter an armed Soldier]

	Good morrow to thee; welcome:
	Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge:
	To business that we love we rise betime,
	And go to't with delight.

Soldier	A thousand, sir,
	Early though't be, have on their riveted trim,
	And at the port expect you.

	[Shout. Trumpets flourish]

	[Enter Captains and Soldiers]

Captain	The morn is fair. Good morrow, general.

All	Good morrow, general.

MARK ANTONY	'Tis well blown, lads:
	This morning, like the spirit of a youth
	That means to be of note, begins betimes.
	So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said.
	Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me:
	This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable

	[Kisses her]

	And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand
	On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee
	Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight,
	Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu.

	[Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers]

CHARMIAN	Please you, retire to your chamber.

CLEOPATRA	Lead me.
	He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might
	Determine this great war in single fight!
	Then Antony,--but now--Well, on.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE V	Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp.


	[Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a
	Soldier meeting them]

Soldier	The gods make this a happy day to Antony!

MARK ANTONY	Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd
	To make me fight at land!

Soldier	Hadst thou done so,
	The kings that have revolted, and the soldier
	That has this morning left thee, would have still
	Follow'd thy heels.

MARK ANTONY	Who's gone this morning?

Soldier	Who!
	One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus,
	He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp
	Say 'I am none of thine.'

MARK ANTONY	What say'st thou?

Soldier	Sir,
	He is with Caesar.

EROS	                  Sir, his chests and treasure
	He has not with him.

MARK ANTONY	Is he gone?

Soldier	Most certain.

MARK ANTONY	Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it;
	Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him--
	I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings;
	Say that I wish he never find more cause
	To change a master. O, my fortunes have
	Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE VI	Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.


	[Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with
	DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight:
	Our will is Antony be took alive;
	Make it so known.

AGRIPPA	Caesar, I shall.

	[Exit]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The time of universal peace is near:
	Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world
	Shall bear the olive freely.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	Antony
	Is come into the field.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go charge Agrippa
	Plant those that have revolted in the van,
	That Antony may seem to spend his fury
	Upon himself.

	[Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on
	Affairs of Antony; there did persuade
	Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar,
	And leave his master Antony: for this pains
	Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest
	That fell away have entertainment, but
	No honourable trust. I have done ill;
	Of which I do accuse myself so sorely,
	That I will joy no more.

	[Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's]

Soldier	Enobarbus, Antony
	Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with
	His bounty overplus: the messenger
	Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now
	Unloading of his mules.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I give it you.

Soldier	Mock not, Enobarbus.
	I tell you true: best you safed the bringer
	Out of the host; I must attend mine office,
	Or would have done't myself. Your emperor
	Continues still a Jove.

	[Exit]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	I am alone the villain of the earth,
	And feel I am so most. O Antony,
	Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid
	My better service, when my turpitude
	Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart:
	If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean
	Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel.
	I fight against thee! No: I will go seek
	Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits
	My latter part of life.

	[Exit]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE VII	Field of battle between the camps.


	[Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA
	and others]

AGRIPPA	Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far:
	Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
	Exceeds what we expected.

	[Exeunt]

	[Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded]

SCARUS	O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed!
	Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
	With clouts about their heads.

MARK ANTONY	Thou bleed'st apace.

SCARUS	I had a wound here that was like a T,
	But now 'tis made an H.

MARK ANTONY	They do retire.

SCARUS	We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet
	Room for six scotches more.

	[Enter EROS]

EROS	They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves
	For a fair victory.

SCARUS	Let us score their backs,
	And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind:
	'Tis sport to maul a runner.

MARK ANTONY	I will reward thee
	Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold
	For thy good valour. Come thee on.

SCARUS	I'll halt after.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE VIII	Under the walls of Alexandria.


	[Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS,
	with others]

MARK ANTONY	We have beat him to his camp: run one before,
	And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow,
	Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood
	That has to-day escaped. I thank you all;
	For doughty-handed are you, and have fought
	Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been
	Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors.
	Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends,
	Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears
	Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
	The honour'd gashes whole.

	[To SCARUS]

		    Give me thy hand

	[Enter CLEOPATRA, attended]

	To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,
	Make her thanks bless thee.

	[To CLEOPATRA]

		      O thou day o' the world,
	Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all,
	Through proof of harness to my heart, and there
	Ride on the pants triumphing!

CLEOPATRA	Lord of lords!
	O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from
	The world's great snare uncaught?

MARK ANTONY	My nightingale,
	We have beat them to their beds. What, girl!
	though grey
	Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we
	A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
	Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man;
	Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand:
	Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day
	As if a god, in hate of mankind, had
	Destroy'd in such a shape.

CLEOPATRA	I'll give thee, friend,
	An armour all of gold; it was a king's.

MARK ANTONY	He has deserved it, were it carbuncled
	Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand:
	Through Alexandria make a jolly march;
	Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:
	Had our great palace the capacity
	To camp this host, we all would sup together,
	And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
	Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters,
	With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
	Make mingle with rattling tabourines;
	That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
	Applauding our approach.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE IX	OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.


	[Sentinels at their post]

First Soldier	If we be not relieved within this hour,
	We must return to the court of guard: the night
	Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle
	By the second hour i' the morn.

Second Soldier	This last day was
	A shrewd one to's.

	[Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS]

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	                  O, bear me witness, night,--

Third Soldier	What man is this?

Second Soldier	                  Stand close, and list him.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon,
	When men revolted shall upon record
	Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did
	Before thy face repent!

First Soldier	Enobarbus!

Third Soldier	Peace!
	Hark further.

DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS	O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
	The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me,
	That life, a very rebel to my will,
	May hang no longer on me: throw my heart
	Against the flint and hardness of my fault:
	Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
	And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony,
	Nobler than my revolt is infamous,
	Forgive me in thine own particular;
	But let the world rank me in register
	A master-leaver and a fugitive:
	O Antony! O Antony!

	[Dies]

Second Soldier	Let's speak To him.

First Soldier	Let's hear him, for the things he speaks
	May concern Caesar.

Third Soldier	Let's do so. But he sleeps.

First Soldier	Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his
	Was never yet for sleep.

Second Soldier	Go we to him.

Third Soldier	Awake, sir, awake; speak to us.

Second Soldier	Hear you, sir?

First Soldier	The hand of death hath raught him.

	[Drums afar off]

		                  Hark! the drums
	Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him
	To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour
	Is fully out.

Third Soldier	Come on, then;
	He may recover yet.

	[Exeunt with the body]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE X	Between the two camps.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army]

MARK ANTONY	Their preparation is to-day by sea;
	We please them not by land.

SCARUS	For both, my lord.

MARK ANTONY	I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air;
	We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot
	Upon the hills adjoining to the city
	Shall stay with us: order for sea is given;
	They have put forth the haven [           ]
	Where their appointment we may best discover,
	And look on their endeavour.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV


SCENE XI	Another part of the same.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	But being charged, we will be still by land,
	Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force
	Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales,
	And hold our best advantage.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV


SCENE XII	Another part of the same.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS]

MARK ANTONY	Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine
	does stand,
	I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word
	Straight, how 'tis like to go.

	[Exit]

SCARUS	Swallows have built
	In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers
	Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly,
	And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony
	Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts,
	His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear,
	Of what he has, and has not.

	[Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight]

	[Re-enter MARK ANTONY]

MARK ANTONY	All is lost;
	This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
	My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder
	They cast their caps up and carouse together
	Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore!
	'tis thou
	Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart
	Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly;
	For when I am revenged upon my charm,
	I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone.

	[Exit SCARUS]

	O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more:
	Fortune and Antony part here; even here
	Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts
	That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave
	Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets
	On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd,
	That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am:
	O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,--
	Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home;
	Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,--
	Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose,
	Beguiled me to the very heart of loss.
	What, Eros, Eros!

	[Enter CLEOPATRA]

	Ah, thou spell! Avaunt!

CLEOPATRA	Why is my lord enraged against his love?

MARK ANTONY	Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving,
	And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee,
	And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians:
	Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot
	Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown
	For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let
	Patient Octavia plough thy visage up
	With her prepared nails.

	[Exit CLEOPATRA]

		'Tis well thou'rt gone,
	If it be well to live; but better 'twere
	Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death
	Might have prevented many. Eros, ho!
	The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me,
	Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage:
	Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon;
	And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club,
	Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die:
	To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall
	Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho!

	[Exit]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV


SCENE XIII	Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN]

CLEOPATRA	Help me, my women! O, he is more mad
	Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly
	Was never so emboss'd.

CHARMIAN	To the monument!
	There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead.
	The soul and body rive not more in parting
	Than greatness going off.

CLEOPATRA	To the monument!
	Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself;
	Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,'
	And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian,
	And bring me how he takes my death.
	To the monument!

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE XIV	The same. Another room.


	[Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS]

MARK ANTONY	Eros, thou yet behold'st me?

EROS	Ay, noble lord.

MARK ANTONY	Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish;
	A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
	A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
	A forked mountain, or blue promontory
	With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
	And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
	these signs;
	They are black vesper's pageants.

EROS	Ay, my lord,

MARK ANTONY	That which is now a horse, even with a thought
	The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct,
	As water is in water.

EROS	It does, my lord.

MARK ANTONY	My good knave Eros, now thy captain is
	Even such a body: here I am Antony:
	Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave.
	I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,--
	Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine;
	Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't
	A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has
	Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory
	Unto an enemy's triumph.
	Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us
	Ourselves to end ourselves.

	[Enter MARDIAN]

		      O! thy vile lady!
	She has robb'd me of my sword.

MARDIAN	No, Antony;
	My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled
	With thine entirely.

MARK ANTONY	Hence, saucy eunuch; peace!
	She hath betray'd me and shall die the death.

MARDIAN	Death of one person can be paid but once,
	And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do
	Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake
	Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!'
	Then in the midst a tearing groan did break
	The name of Antony; it was divided
	Between her heart and lips: she render'd life,
	Thy name so buried in her.

MARK ANTONY	Dead, then?

MARDIAN	Dead.

MARK ANTONY	Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done,
	And we must sleep.

	[To MARDIAN]

	That thou depart'st hence safe,
	Does pay thy labour richly; go.

	[Exit MARDIAN]

		         Off, pluck off:
	The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep
	The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides!
	Heart, once be stronger than thy continent,
	Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace.
	No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go;
	You have been nobly borne. From me awhile.

	[Exit EROS]

	I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and
	Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now
	All length is torture: since the torch is out,
	Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour
	Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles
	Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done.
	Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me:
	Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand,
	And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
	Dido and her AEneas shall want troops,
	And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!

	[Re-enter EROS]

EROS	What would my lord?

MARK ANTONY	Since Cleopatra died,
	I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods
	Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword
	Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back
	With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack
	The courage of a woman; less noble mind
	Than she which by her death our Caesar tells
	'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros,
	That, when the exigent should come, which now
	Is come indeed, when I should see behind me
	The inevitable prosecution of
	Disgrace and horror, that, on my command,
	Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come:
	Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st.
	Put colour in thy cheek.

EROS	The gods withhold me!
	Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts,
	Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?

MARK ANTONY	Eros,
	Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see
	Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down
	His corrigible neck, his face subdued
	To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat
	Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded
	His baseness that ensued?

EROS	I would not see't.

MARK ANTONY	Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured.
	Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn
	Most useful for thy country.

EROS	O, sir, pardon me!

MARK ANTONY	When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then
	To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once;
	Or thy precedent services are all
	But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come.

EROS	Turn from me, then, that noble countenance,
	Wherein the worship of the whole world lies.

MARK ANTONY	Lo thee!

	[Turning from him]

EROS	My sword is drawn.

MARK ANTONY	                  Then let it do at once
	The thing why thou hast drawn it.

EROS	My dear master,
	My captain, and my emperor, let me say,
	Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell.

MARK ANTONY	'Tis said, man; and farewell.

EROS	Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now?

MARK ANTONY	Now, Eros.

EROS	Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow
	Of Antony's death.

	[Kills himself]

MARK ANTONY	                  Thrice-nobler than myself!
	Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what
	I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros
	Have by their brave instruction got upon me
	A nobleness in record: but I will be
	A bridegroom in my death, and run into't
	As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros,
	Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus

	[Falling on his sword]

	I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead?
	The guard, ho! O, dispatch me!

	[Enter DERCETAS and Guard]

First Guard	What's the noise?

MARK ANTONY	I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end
	Of what I have begun.

Second Guard	The star is fall'n.

First Guard	And time is at his period.

All	Alas, and woe!

MARK ANTONY	Let him that loves me strike me dead.

First Guard	Not I.

Second Guard	Nor I.

Third Guard	Nor any one.

	[Exeunt Guard]

DERCETAS	Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly.
	This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings,
	Shall enter me with him.

	[Enter DIOMEDES]

DIOMEDES	Where's Antony?

DERCETAS	                  There, Diomed there.

DIOMEDES	Lives he?
	Wilt thou not answer, man?

	[Exit DERCETAS]

MARK ANTONY	Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me
	Sufficing strokes for death.

DIOMEDES	Most absolute lord,
	My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee.

MARK ANTONY	When did she send thee?

DIOMEDES	Now, my lord.

MARK ANTONY	Where is she?

DIOMEDES	Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear
	Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw--
	Which never shall be found--you did suspect
	She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage
	Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead;
	But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent
	Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come,
	I dread, too late.

MARK ANTONY	Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee.

DIOMEDES	What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho!
	Come, your lord calls!

	[Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY]

MARK ANTONY	Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides;
	'Tis the last service that I shall command you.

First Guard	Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear
	All your true followers out.

All	Most heavy day!

MARK ANTONY	Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate
	To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome
	Which comes to punish us, and we punish it
	Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up:
	I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends,
	And have my thanks for all.

	[Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT IV



SCENE XV	The same. A monument.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with
	CHARMIAN and IRAS]

CLEOPATRA	O Charmian, I will never go from hence.

CHARMIAN	Be comforted, dear madam.

CLEOPATRA	No, I will not:
	All strange and terrible events are welcome,
	But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow,
	Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great
	As that which makes it.

	[Enter, below, DIOMEDES]

		  How now! is he dead?

DIOMEDES	His death's upon him, but not dead.
	Look out o' the other side your monument;
	His guard have brought him thither.

	[Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard]

CLEOPATRA	O sun,
	Burn the great sphere thou movest in!
	darkling stand
	The varying shore o' the world. O Antony,
	Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help;
	Help, friends below; let's draw him hither.

MARK ANTONY	Peace!
	Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony,
	But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself.

CLEOPATRA	So it should be, that none but Antony
	Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so!

MARK ANTONY	I am dying, Egypt, dying; only
	I here importune death awhile, until
	Of many thousand kisses the poor last
	I lay up thy lips.

CLEOPATRA	                  I dare not, dear,--
	Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not,
	Lest I be taken: not the imperious show
	Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall
	Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs,
	serpents, have
	Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe:
	Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes
	And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour
	Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,--
	Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up:
	Assist, good friends.

MARK ANTONY	O, quick, or I am gone.

CLEOPATRA	Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord!
	Our strength is all gone into heaviness,
	That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power,
	The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up,
	And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,--
	Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come;

	[They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA]

	And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived:
	Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power,
	Thus would I wear them out.

All	A heavy sight!

MARK ANTONY	I am dying, Egypt, dying:
	Give me some wine, and let me speak a little.

CLEOPATRA	No, let me speak; and let me rail so high,
	That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel,
	Provoked by my offence.

MARK ANTONY	One word, sweet queen:
	Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O!

CLEOPATRA	They do not go together.

MARK ANTONY	Gentle, hear me:
	None about Caesar trust but Proculeius.

CLEOPATRA	My resolution and my hands I'll trust;
	None about Caesar.

MARK ANTONY	The miserable change now at my end
	Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts
	In feeding them with those my former fortunes
	Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world,
	The noblest; and do now not basely die,
	Not cowardly put off my helmet to
	My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman
	Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going;
	I can no more.

CLEOPATRA	                  Noblest of men, woo't die?
	Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide
	In this dull world, which in thy absence is
	No better than a sty? O, see, my women,

	[MARK ANTONY dies]

	The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord!
	O, wither'd is the garland of the war,
	The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls
	Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
	And there is nothing left remarkable
	Beneath the visiting moon.

	[Faints]

CHARMIAN	O, quietness, lady!

IRAS	She is dead too, our sovereign.

CHARMIAN	Lady!

IRAS	Madam!

CHARMIAN	O madam, madam, madam!

IRAS	Royal Egypt, Empress!

CHARMIAN	Peace, peace, Iras!

CLEOPATRA	No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded
	By such poor passion as the maid that milks
	And does the meanest chares. It were for me
	To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
	To tell them that this world did equal theirs
	Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught;
	Patience is scottish, and impatience does
	Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin
	To rush into the secret house of death,
	Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
	What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian!
	My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look,
	Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart:
	We'll bury him; and then, what's brave,
	what's noble,
	Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
	And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
	This case of that huge spirit now is cold:
	Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend
	But resolution, and the briefest end.

	[Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT V



SCENE I	Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp.


	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS,
	GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield;
	Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
	The pauses that he makes.

DOLABELLA	Caesar, I shall.

	[Exit]

	[Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest
	Appear thus to us?

DERCETAS	                  I am call'd Dercetas;
	Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy
	Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke,
	He was my master; and I wore my life
	To spend upon his haters. If thou please
	To take me to thee, as I was to him
	I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not,
	I yield thee up my life.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	What is't thou say'st?

DERCETAS	I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	The breaking of so great a thing should make
	A greater crack: the round world
	Should have shook lions into civil streets,
	And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony
	Is not a single doom; in the name lay
	A moiety of the world.

DERCETAS	He is dead, Caesar:
	Not by a public minister of justice,
	Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand,
	Which writ his honour in the acts it did,
	Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
	Splitted the heart. This is his sword;
	I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd
	With his most noble blood.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Look you sad, friends?
	The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings
	To wash the eyes of kings.

AGRIPPA	And strange it is,
	That nature must compel us to lament
	Our most persisted deeds.

MECAENAS	His taints and honours
	Waged equal with him.

AGRIPPA	A rarer spirit never
	Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us
	Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd.

MECAENAS	When such a spacious mirror's set before him,
	He needs must see himself.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	O Antony!
	I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance
	Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce
	Have shown to thee such a declining day,
	Or look on thine; we could not stall together
	In the whole world: but yet let me lament,
	With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts,
	That thou, my brother, my competitor
	In top of all design, my mate in empire,
	Friend and companion in the front of war,
	The arm of mine own body, and the heart
	Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars,
	Unreconciliable, should divide
	Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends--
	But I will tell you at some meeter season:

	[Enter an Egyptian]

	The business of this man looks out of him;
	We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you?

Egyptian	A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress,
	Confined in all she has, her monument,
	Of thy intents desires instruction,
	That she preparedly may frame herself
	To the way she's forced to.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bid her have good heart:
	She soon shall know of us, by some of ours,
	How honourable and how kindly we
	Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live
	To be ungentle.

Egyptian	So the gods preserve thee!

	[Exit]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say,
	We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts
	The quality of her passion shall require,
	Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke
	She do defeat us; for her life in Rome
	Would be eternal in our triumph: go,
	And with your speediest bring us what she says,
	And how you find of her.

PROCULEIUS	Caesar, I shall.

	[Exit]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Gallus, go you along.

	[Exit GALLUS]

		Where's Dolabella,
	To second Proculeius?

All	Dolabella!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Let him alone, for I remember now
	How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready.
	Go with me to my tent; where you shall see
	How hardly I was drawn into this war;
	How calm and gentle I proceeded still
	In all my writings: go with me, and see
	What I can show in this.

	[Exeunt]




	ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA


ACT V



SCENE II	Alexandria. A room in the monument.


	[Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS]

CLEOPATRA	My desolation does begin to make
	A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar;
	Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave,
	A minister of her will: and it is great
	To do that thing that ends all other deeds;
	Which shackles accidents and bolts up change;
	Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug,
	The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.

	[Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS,
	GALLUS and Soldiers]

PROCULEIUS	Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt;
	And bids thee study on what fair demands
	Thou mean'st to have him grant thee.

CLEOPATRA	What's thy name?

PROCULEIUS	My name is Proculeius.

CLEOPATRA	Antony
	Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but
	I do not greatly care to be deceived,
	That have no use for trusting. If your master
	Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him,
	That majesty, to keep decorum, must
	No less beg than a kingdom: if he please
	To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son,
	He gives me so much of mine own, as I
	Will kneel to him with thanks.

PROCULEIUS	Be of good cheer;
	You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing:
	Make your full reference freely to my lord,
	Who is so full of grace, that it flows over
	On all that need: let me report to him
	Your sweet dependency; and you shall find
	A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness,
	Where he for grace is kneel'd to.

CLEOPATRA	Pray you, tell him
	I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him
	The greatness he has got. I hourly learn
	A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly
	Look him i' the face.

PROCULEIUS	This I'll report, dear lady.
	Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied
	Of him that caused it.

GALLUS	You see how easily she may be surprised:

	[Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the
	monument by a ladder placed against a window, and,
	having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of
	the Guard unbar and open the gates]

	[To PROCULEIUS and the Guard]

	Guard her till Caesar come.

	[Exit]

IRAS	Royal queen!

CHARMIAN	O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen:

CLEOPATRA	Quick, quick, good hands.

	[Drawing a dagger]

PROCULEIUS	Hold, worthy lady, hold:

	[Seizes and disarms her]

	Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this
	Relieved, but not betray'd.

CLEOPATRA	What, of death too,
	That rids our dogs of languish?

PROCULEIUS	Cleopatra,
	Do not abuse my master's bounty by
	The undoing of yourself: let the world see
	His nobleness well acted, which your death
	Will never let come forth.

CLEOPATRA	Where art thou, death?
	Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen
	Worthy many babes and beggars!

PROCULEIUS	O, temperance, lady!

CLEOPATRA	Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
	If idle talk will once be necessary,
	I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin,
	Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
	Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
	Nor once be chastised with the sober eye
	Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up
	And show me to the shouting varletry
	Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
	Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
	Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies
	Blow me into abhorring! rather make
	My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
	And hang me up in chains!

PROCULEIUS	You do extend
	These thoughts of horror further than you shall
	Find cause in Caesar.

	[Enter DOLABELLA]

DOLABELLA	Proculeius,
	What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows,
	And he hath sent for thee: for the queen,
	I'll take her to my guard.

PROCULEIUS	So, Dolabella,
	It shall content me best: be gentle to her.

	[To CLEOPATRA]

	To Caesar I will speak what you shall please,
	If you'll employ me to him.

CLEOPATRA	Say, I would die.

	[Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers]

DOLABELLA	Most noble empress, you have heard of me?

CLEOPATRA	I cannot tell.

DOLABELLA	                  Assuredly you know me.

CLEOPATRA	No matter, sir, what I have heard or known.
	You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams;
	Is't not your trick?

DOLABELLA	I understand not, madam.

CLEOPATRA	I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony:
	O, such another sleep, that I might see
	But such another man!

DOLABELLA	If it might please ye,--

CLEOPATRA	His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck
	A sun and moon, which kept their course,
	and lighted
	The little O, the earth.

DOLABELLA	Most sovereign creature,--

CLEOPATRA	His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm
	Crested the world: his voice was propertied
	As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends;
	But when he meant to quail and shake the orb,
	He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty,
	There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas
	That grew the more by reaping: his delights
	Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above
	The element they lived in: in his livery
	Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were
	As plates dropp'd from his pocket.

DOLABELLA	Cleopatra!

CLEOPATRA	Think you there was, or might be, such a man
	As this I dream'd of?

DOLABELLA	Gentle madam, no.

CLEOPATRA	You lie, up to the hearing of the gods.
	But, if there be, or ever were, one such,
	It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff
	To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine
	And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy,
	Condemning shadows quite.

DOLABELLA	Hear me, good madam.
	Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it
	As answering to the weight: would I might never
	O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel,
	By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites
	My very heart at root.

CLEOPATRA	I thank you, sir,
	Know you what Caesar means to do with me?

DOLABELLA	I am loath to tell you what I would you knew.

CLEOPATRA	Nay, pray you, sir,--

DOLABELLA	Though he be honourable,--

CLEOPATRA	He'll lead me, then, in triumph?

DOLABELLA	Madam, he will; I know't.

	[Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there:
	Octavius Caesar!']

	[Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS,
	MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Which is the Queen of Egypt?

DOLABELLA	It is the emperor, madam.

	[CLEOPATRA kneels]

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Arise, you shall not kneel:
	I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt.

CLEOPATRA	Sir, the gods
	Will have it thus; my master and my lord
	I must obey.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Take to you no hard thoughts:
	The record of what injuries you did us,
	Though written in our flesh, we shall remember
	As things but done by chance.

CLEOPATRA	Sole sir o' the world,
	I cannot project mine own cause so well
	To make it clear; but do confess I have
	Been laden with like frailties which before
	Have often shamed our sex.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Cleopatra, know,
	We will extenuate rather than enforce:
	If you apply yourself to our intents,
	Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find
	A benefit in this change; but if you seek
	To lay on me a cruelty, by taking
	Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself
	Of my good purposes, and put your children
	To that destruction which I'll guard them from,
	If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave.

CLEOPATRA	And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we,
	Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall
	Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.

CLEOPATRA	This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels,
	I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued;
	Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus?

SELEUCUS	Here, madam.

CLEOPATRA	This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord,
	Upon his peril, that I have reserved
	To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus.

SELEUCUS	Madam,
	I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril,
	Speak that which is not.

CLEOPATRA	What have I kept back?

SELEUCUS	Enough to purchase what you have made known.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve
	Your wisdom in the deed.

CLEOPATRA	See, Caesar! O, behold,
	How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours;
	And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine.
	The ingratitude of this Seleucus does
	Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust
	Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt
	Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes,
	Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog!
	O rarely base!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	                  Good queen, let us entreat you.

CLEOPATRA	O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this,
	That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
	Doing the honour of thy lordliness
	To one so meek, that mine own servant should
	Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
	Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar,
	That I some lady trifles have reserved,
	Immoment toys, things of such dignity
	As we greet modern friends withal; and say,
	Some nobler token I have kept apart
	For Livia and Octavia, to induce
	Their mediation; must I be unfolded
	With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me
	Beneath the fall I have.

	[To SELEUCUS]

		   Prithee, go hence;
	Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
	Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man,
	Thou wouldst have mercy on me.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Forbear, Seleucus.

	[Exit SELEUCUS]

CLEOPATRA	Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought
	For things that others do; and, when we fall,
	We answer others' merits in our name,
	Are therefore to be pitied.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Cleopatra,
	Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged,
	Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours,
	Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe,
	Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you
	Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd;
	Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen;
	For we intend so to dispose you as
	Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep:
	Our care and pity is so much upon you,
	That we remain your friend; and so, adieu.

CLEOPATRA	My master, and my lord!

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Not so. Adieu.

	[Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train]

CLEOPATRA	He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not
	Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian.

	[Whispers CHARMIAN]

IRAS	Finish, good lady; the bright day is done,
	And we are for the dark.

CLEOPATRA	Hie thee again:
	I have spoke already, and it is provided;
	Go put it to the haste.

CHARMIAN	Madam, I will.

	[Re-enter DOLABELLA]

DOLABELLA	Where is the queen?

CHARMIAN	Behold, sir.

	[Exit]

CLEOPATRA	Dolabella!

DOLABELLA	Madam, as thereto sworn by your command,
	Which my love makes religion to obey,
	I tell you this: Caesar through Syria
	Intends his journey; and within three days
	You with your children will he send before:
	Make your best use of this: I have perform'd
	Your pleasure and my promise.

CLEOPATRA	Dolabella,
	I shall remain your debtor.

DOLABELLA	I your servant,
	Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar.

CLEOPATRA	Farewell, and thanks.

	[Exit DOLABELLA]

		Now, Iras, what think'st thou?
	Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown
	In Rome, as well as I	mechanic slaves
	With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
	Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
	Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded,
	And forced to drink their vapour.

IRAS	The gods forbid!

CLEOPATRA	Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors
	Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers
	Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians
	Extemporally will stage us, and present
	Our Alexandrian revels; Antony
	Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see
	Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness
	I' the posture of a whore.

IRAS	O the good gods!

CLEOPATRA	Nay, that's certain.

IRAS	I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails
	Are stronger than mine eyes.

CLEOPATRA	Why, that's the way
	To fool their preparation, and to conquer
	Their most absurd intents.

	[Re-enter CHARMIAN]

		     Now, Charmian!
	Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch
	My best attires: I am again for Cydnus,
	To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go.
	Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed;
	And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave
	To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all.
	Wherefore's this noise?

	[Exit IRAS. A noise within]

	[Enter a Guardsman]

Guard	Here is a rural fellow
	That will not be denied your highness presence:
	He brings you figs.

CLEOPATRA	Let him come in.

	[Exit Guardsman]

	What poor an instrument
	May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
	My resolution's placed, and I have nothing
	Of woman in me: now from head to foot
	I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon
	No planet is of mine.

	[Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket]

Guard	This is the man.

CLEOPATRA	Avoid, and leave him.

	[Exit Guardsman]

	Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there,
	That kills and pains not?

Clown	Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party
	that should desire you to touch him, for his biting
	is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or
	never recover.

CLEOPATRA	Rememberest thou any that have died on't?

Clown	Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of
	them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman,
	but something given to lie; as a woman should not
	do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the
	biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes
	a very good report o' the worm; but he that will
	believe all that they say, shall never be saved by
	half that they do: but this is most fallible, the
	worm's an odd worm.

CLEOPATRA	Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown	I wish you all joy of the worm.

	[Setting down his basket]

CLEOPATRA	Farewell.

Clown	You must think this, look you, that the worm will
	do his kind.

CLEOPATRA	Ay, ay; farewell.

Clown	Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the
	keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no
	goodness in worm.


CLEOPATRA	Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

Clown	Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is
	not worth the feeding.

CLEOPATRA	Will it eat me?

Clown	You must not think I am so simple but I know the
	devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a
	woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her
	not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the
	gods great harm in their women; for in every ten
	that they make, the devils mar five.

CLEOPATRA	Well, get thee gone; farewell.

Clown	Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm.

	[Exit]

	[Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, &c]

CLEOPATRA	Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
	Immortal longings in me: now no more
	The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip:
	Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear
	Antony call; I see him rouse himself
	To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
	The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
	To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come:
	Now to that name my courage prove my title!
	I am fire and air; my other elements
	I give to baser life. So; have you done?
	Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips.
	Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell.

	[Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies]

	Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
	If thou and nature can so gently part,
	The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
	Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still?
	If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
	It is not worth leave-taking.

CHARMIAN	Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say,
	The gods themselves do weep!

CLEOPATRA	This proves me base:
	If she first meet the curled Antony,
	He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss
	Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou
	mortal wretch,

	[To an asp, which she applies to her breast]

	With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
	Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool
	Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak,
	That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass
	Unpolicied!

CHARMIAN	          O eastern star!

CLEOPATRA	Peace, peace!
	Dost thou not see my baby at my breast,
	That sucks the nurse asleep?

CHARMIAN	O, break! O, break!

CLEOPATRA	As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,--
	O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too.

	[Applying another asp to her arm]

	What should I stay--

	[Dies]

CHARMIAN	In this vile world? So, fare thee well.
	Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies
	A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close;
	And golden Phoebus never be beheld
	Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry;
	I'll mend it, and then play.

	[Enter the Guard, rushing in]

First Guard	Where is the queen?

CHARMIAN	Speak softly, wake her not.

First Guard	Caesar hath sent--

CHARMIAN	                  Too slow a messenger.

	[Applies an asp]

	O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee.

First Guard	Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled.

Second Guard	There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him.

First Guard	What work is here! Charmian, is this well done?

CHARMIAN	It is well done, and fitting for a princess
	Descended of so many royal kings.
	Ah, soldier!

	[Dies]

	[Re-enter DOLABELLA]

DOLABELLA	How goes it here?

Second Guard	                  All dead.

DOLABELLA	Caesar, thy thoughts
	Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming
	To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou
	So sought'st to hinder.

	[Within  'A way there, a way for Caesar!']

	[Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching]

DOLABELLA	O sir, you are too sure an augurer;
	That you did fear is done.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Bravest at the last,
	She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal,
	Took her own way. The manner of their deaths?
	I do not see them bleed.

DOLABELLA	Who was last with them?

First Guard	A simple countryman, that brought her figs:
	This was his basket.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Poison'd, then.

First Guard	O Caesar,
	This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake:
	I found her trimming up the diadem
	On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood
	And on the sudden dropp'd.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	O noble weakness!
	If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
	By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
	As she would catch another Antony
	In her strong toil of grace.

DOLABELLA	Here, on her breast,
	There is a vent of blood and something blown:
	The like is on her arm.

First Guard	This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves
	Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves
	Upon the caves of Nile.

OCTAVIUS CAESAR	Most probable
	That so she died; for her physician tells me
	She hath pursued conclusions infinite
	Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed;
	And bear her women from the monument:
	She shall be buried by her Antony:
	No grave upon the earth shall clip in it
	A pair so famous. High events as these
	Strike those that make them; and their story is
	No less in pity than his glory which
	Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall
	In solemn show attend this funeral;
	And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see
	High order in this great solemnity.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


	DRAMATIS PERSONAE


CAIUS MARCIUS	(MARCUS:)  Afterwards CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS.
	(CORIOLANUS:)


TITUS LARTIUS	(LARTIUS:)	|
		|  generals against the Volscians.
COMINIUS		|


MENENIUS AGRIPPA	friend to Coriolanus. (MENENIUS:)


SICINIUS VELUTUS	(SICINIUS:)	|
		|  tribunes of the people.
JUNIUS BRUTUS	(BRUTUS:)	|


Young MARCUS	son to Coriolanus.

	A Roman Herald. (Herald:)

TULLUS AUFIDIUS	general of the Volscians. (AUFIDIUS:)

	Lieutenant to Aufidius. (Lieutenant:)

	Conspirators with Aufidius.
	(First Conspirator:)
	(Second Conspirator:)
	(Third Conspirator:)

	A Citizen of Antium.

	Two Volscian Guards.

VOLUMNIA	mother to Coriolanus.

VIRGILIA	wife to Coriolanus.

VALERIA	friend to Virgilia.

	Gentlewoman, attending on Virgilia. (Gentlewoman:)

	Roman and Volscian Senators, Patricians,
	AEdiles, Lictors, Soldiers, Citizens, Messengers,
	Servants to Aufidius, and other Attendants.
	(First Senator:)
	(Second Senator:)
	(A Patrician:)
	(Second Patrician:)
	(AEdile:)
	(First Soldier:)
	(Second Soldier:)
	(First Citizen:)
	(Second Citizen:)
	(Third Citizen:)
	(Fourth Citizen:)
	(Fifth Citizen:)
	(Sixth Citizen:)
	(Seventh Citizen:)
	(Messenger:)
	(Second Messenger:)
	(First Serviceman:)
	(Second Serviceman:)
	(Third Serviceman:)
	(Officer:)
	(First Officer:)
	(Second Officer:)
	(Roman:)
	(First Roman:)
	(Second Roman:)
	(Third Roman:)
	(Volsce:)
	(First Lord:)
	(Second Lord:)
	(Third Lord:)


SCENE	Rome and the neighbourhood; Corioli
	and the neighbourhood; Antium.




	CORIOLANUS



ACT I



SCENE I	Rome. A street.


	[Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves,
	clubs, and other weapons]

First Citizen	Before we proceed any further, hear me speak.

All	Speak, speak.

First Citizen	You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?

All	Resolved. resolved.

First Citizen	First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people.

All	We know't, we know't.

First Citizen	Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price.
	Is't a verdict?

All	No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away!

Second Citizen	One word, good citizens.

First Citizen	We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good.
	What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they
	would yield us but the superfluity, while it were
	wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely;
	but they think we are too dear: the leanness that
	afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an
	inventory to particularise their abundance; our
	sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with
	our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I
	speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge.

Second Citizen	Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius?

All	Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty.

Second Citizen	Consider you what services he has done for his country?

First Citizen	Very well; and could be content to give him good
	report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud.

Second Citizen	Nay, but speak not maliciously.

First Citizen	I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did
	it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be
	content to say it was for his country he did it to
	please his mother and to be partly proud; which he
	is, even till the altitude of his virtue.

Second Citizen	What he cannot help in his nature, you account a
	vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous.

First Citizen	If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations;
	he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition.

	[Shouts within]

	What shouts are these? The other side o' the city
	is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol!

All	Come, come.

First Citizen	Soft! who comes here?

	[Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA]

Second Citizen	Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved
	the people.

First Citizen	He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so!

MENENIUS	What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you
	With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you.

First Citizen	Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have
	had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do,
	which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor
	suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we
	have strong arms too.

MENENIUS	Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours,
	Will you undo yourselves?

First Citizen	We cannot, sir, we are undone already.

MENENIUS	I tell you, friends, most charitable care
	Have the patricians of you. For your wants,
	Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well
	Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them
	Against the Roman state, whose course will on
	The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs
	Of more strong link asunder than can ever
	Appear in your impediment. For the dearth,
	The gods, not the patricians, make it, and
	Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack,
	You are transported by calamity
	Thither where more attends you, and you slander
	The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers,
	When you curse them as enemies.

First Citizen	Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us
	yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses
	crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to
	support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act
	established against the rich, and provide more
	piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain
	the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and
	there's all the love they bear us.

MENENIUS	Either you must
	Confess yourselves wondrous malicious,
	Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you
	A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it;
	But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture
	To stale 't a little more.

First Citizen	Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to
	fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please
	you, deliver.

MENENIUS	There was a time when all the body's members
	Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it:
	That only like a gulf it did remain
	I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive,
	Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing
	Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments
	Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,
	And, mutually participate, did minister
	Unto the appetite and affection common
	Of the whole body. The belly answer'd--

First Citizen	Well, sir, what answer made the belly?

MENENIUS	Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile,
	Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus--
	For, look you, I may make the belly smile
	As well as speak--it tauntingly replied
	To the discontented members, the mutinous parts
	That envied his receipt; even so most fitly
	As you malign our senators for that
	They are not such as you.

First Citizen	Your belly's answer? What!
	The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye,
	The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,
	Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.
	With other muniments and petty helps
	In this our fabric, if that they--

MENENIUS	What then?
	'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then?

First Citizen	Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd,
	Who is the sink o' the body,--

MENENIUS	Well, what then?

First Citizen	The former agents, if they did complain,
	What could the belly answer?

MENENIUS	I will tell you
	If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little--
	Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer.

First Citizen	Ye're long about it.

MENENIUS	Note me this, good friend;
	Your most grave belly was deliberate,
	Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd:
	'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he,
	'That I receive the general food at first,
	Which you do live upon; and fit it is,
	Because I am the store-house and the shop
	Of the whole body: but, if you do remember,
	I send it through the rivers of your blood,
	Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain;
	And, through the cranks and offices of man,
	The strongest nerves and small inferior veins
	From me receive that natural competency
	Whereby they live: and though that all at once,
	You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,--

First Citizen	Ay, sir; well, well.

MENENIUS	'Though all at once cannot
	See what I do deliver out to each,
	Yet I can make my audit up, that all
	From me do back receive the flour of all,
	And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't?

First Citizen	It was an answer: how apply you this?

MENENIUS	The senators of Rome are this good belly,
	And you the mutinous members; for examine
	Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly
	Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find
	No public benefit which you receive
	But it proceeds or comes from them to you
	And no way from yourselves. What do you think,
	You, the great toe of this assembly?

First Citizen	I the great toe! why the great toe?

MENENIUS	For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest,
	Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost:
	Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run,
	Lead'st first to win some vantage.
	But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs:
	Rome and her rats are at the point of battle;
	The one side must have bale.

	[Enter CAIUS MARCIUS]

		       Hail, noble Marcius!

MARCIUS	Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues,
	That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
	Make yourselves scabs?

First Citizen	We have ever your good word.

MARCIUS	He that will give good words to thee will flatter
	Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
	That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you,
	The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you,
	Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
	Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no,
	Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
	Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is
	To make him worthy whose offence subdues him
	And curse that justice did it.
	Who deserves greatness
	Deserves your hate; and your affections are
	A sick man's appetite, who desires most that
	Which would increase his evil. He that depends
	Upon your favours swims with fins of lead
	And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye?
	With every minute you do change a mind,
	And call him noble that was now your hate,
	Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter,
	That in these several places of the city
	You cry against the noble senate, who,
	Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else
	Would feed on one another? What's their seeking?

MENENIUS	For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say,
	The city is well stored.

MARCIUS	Hang 'em! They say!
	They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know
	What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise,
	Who thrives and who declines; side factions
	and give out
	Conjectural marriages; making parties strong
	And feebling such as stand not in their liking
	Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's
	grain enough!
	Would the nobility lay aside their ruth,
	And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry
	With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high
	As I could pick my lance.

MENENIUS	Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded;
	For though abundantly they lack discretion,
	Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you,
	What says the other troop?

MARCIUS	They are dissolved: hang 'em!
	They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs,
	That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat,
	That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not
	Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds
	They vented their complainings; which being answer'd,
	And a petition granted them, a strange one--
	To break the heart of generosity,
	And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps
	As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
	Shouting their emulation.

MENENIUS	What is granted them?

MARCIUS	Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms,
	Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus,
	Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath!
	The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
	Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time
	Win upon power and throw forth greater themes
	For insurrection's arguing.

MENENIUS	This is strange.

MARCIUS	Go, get you home, you fragments!

	[Enter a Messenger, hastily]

Messenger	Where's Caius Marcius?

MARCIUS	Here: what's the matter?

Messenger	The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS	I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent
	Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders.

	[Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators;
	JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS]

First Senator	Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us;
	The Volsces are in arms.

MARCIUS	They have a leader,
	Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't.
	I sin in envying his nobility,
	And were I any thing but what I am,
	I would wish me only he.

COMINIUS	You have fought together.

MARCIUS	Were half to half the world by the ears and he.
	Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make
	Only my wars with him: he is a lion
	That I am proud to hunt.

First Senator	Then, worthy Marcius,
	Attend upon Cominius to these wars.

COMINIUS	It is your former promise.

MARCIUS	Sir, it is;
	And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou
	Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face.
	What, art thou stiff? stand'st out?

TITUS	No, Caius Marcius;
	I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other,
	Ere stay behind this business.

MENENIUS	O, true-bred!

First Senator	Your company to the Capitol; where, I know,
	Our greatest friends attend us.

TITUS	[To COMINIUS]                Lead you on.

	[To MARCIUS]  Follow Cominius; we must follow you;
	Right worthy you priority.

COMINIUS	Noble Marcius!

First Senator	[To the Citizens]  Hence to your homes; be gone!

MARCIUS	Nay, let them follow:
	The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither
	To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners,
	Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow.

	[Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS
	and BRUTUS]

SICINIUS	Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius?

BRUTUS	He has no equal.

SICINIUS	When we were chosen tribunes for the people,--

BRUTUS	Mark'd you his lip and eyes?

SICINIUS	Nay. but his taunts.

BRUTUS	Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods.

SICINIUS	Be-mock the modest moon.

BRUTUS	The present wars devour him: he is grown
	Too proud to be so valiant.

SICINIUS	Such a nature,
	Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow
	Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder
	His insolence can brook to be commanded
	Under Cominius.

BRUTUS	Fame, at the which he aims,
	In whom already he's well graced, can not
	Better be held nor more attain'd than by
	A place below the first: for what miscarries
	Shall be the general's fault, though he perform
	To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure
	Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he
	Had borne the business!'

SICINIUS	Besides, if things go well,
	Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall
	Of his demerits rob Cominius.

BRUTUS	Come:
	Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius.
	Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults
	To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed
	In aught he merit not.

SICINIUS	Let's hence, and hear
	How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion,
	More than his singularity, he goes
	Upon this present action.

BRUTUS	Lets along.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE II	Corioli. The Senate-house.


	[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators]

First Senator	So, your opinion is, Aufidius,
	That they of Rome are entered in our counsels
	And know how we proceed.

AUFIDIUS	Is it not yours?
	What ever have been thought on in this state,
	That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome
	Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone
	Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think
	I have the letter here; yes, here it is.

	[Reads]

	'They have press'd a power, but it is not known
	Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;
	The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd,
	Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,
	Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,
	And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,
	These three lead on this preparation
	Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you:
	Consider of it.'

First Senator	                  Our army's in the field
	We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready
	To answer us.

AUFIDIUS	                  Nor did you think it folly
	To keep your great pretences veil'd till when
	They needs must show themselves; which
	in the hatching,
	It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery.
	We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was
	To take in many towns ere almost Rome
	Should know we were afoot.

Second Senator	Noble Aufidius,
	Take your commission; hie you to your bands:
	Let us alone to guard Corioli:
	If they set down before 's, for the remove
	Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find
	They've not prepared for us.

AUFIDIUS	O, doubt not that;
	I speak from certainties. Nay, more,
	Some parcels of their power are forth already,
	And only hitherward. I leave your honours.
	If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,
	'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike
	Till one can do no more.

All	The gods assist you!

AUFIDIUS	And keep your honours safe!

First Senator	Farewell.

Second Senator	Farewell.

All	Farewell.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE III	Rome. A room in Marcius' house.


	[Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA	they set them down
	on two low stools, and sew]

VOLUMNIA	I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a
	more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I
	should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he
	won honour than in the embracements of his bed where
	he would show most love. When yet he was but
	tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when
	youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when
	for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not
	sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering
	how honour would become such a person. that it was
	no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if
	renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek
	danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel
	war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows
	bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not
	more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child
	than now in first seeing he had proved himself a
	man.

VIRGILIA	But had he died in the business, madam; how then?

VOLUMNIA	Then his good report should have been my son; I
	therein would have found issue. Hear me profess
	sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love
	alike and none less dear than thine and my good
	Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their
	country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action.

	[Enter a Gentlewoman]

Gentlewoman	Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you.

VIRGILIA	Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself.

VOLUMNIA	Indeed, you shall not.
	Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum,
	See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair,
	As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him:
	Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus:
	'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear,
	Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow
	With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes,
	Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow
	Or all or lose his hire.

VIRGILIA	His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood!

VOLUMNIA	Away, you fool! it more becomes a man
	Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba,
	When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier
	Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood
	At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria,
	We are fit to bid her welcome.

	[Exit Gentlewoman]

VIRGILIA	Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius!

VOLUMNIA	He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee
	And tread upon his neck.

	[Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman]

VALERIA	My ladies both, good day to you.

VOLUMNIA	Sweet madam.

VIRGILIA	I am glad to see your ladyship.

VALERIA	How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers.
	What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good
	faith. How does your little son?

VIRGILIA	I thank your ladyship; well, good madam.

VOLUMNIA	He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than
	look upon his school-master.

VALERIA	O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a
	very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o'
	Wednesday half an hour together: has such a
	confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded
	butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go
	again; and after it again; and over and over he
	comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his
	fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his
	teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked
	it!

VOLUMNIA	One on 's father's moods.

VALERIA	Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child.

VIRGILIA	A crack, madam.

VALERIA	Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play
	the idle husewife with me this afternoon.

VIRGILIA	No, good madam; I will not out of doors.

VALERIA	Not out of doors!

VOLUMNIA	She shall, she shall.

VIRGILIA	Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the
	threshold till my lord return from the wars.

VALERIA	Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come,
	you must go visit the good lady that lies in.

VIRGILIA	I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with
	my prayers; but I cannot go thither.

VOLUMNIA	Why, I pray you?

VIRGILIA	'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love.

VALERIA	You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all
	the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill
	Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric
	were sensible as your finger, that you might leave
	pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us.

VIRGILIA	No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth.

VALERIA	In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you
	excellent news of your husband.

VIRGILIA	O, good madam, there can be none yet.

VALERIA	Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from
	him last night.

VIRGILIA	Indeed, madam?

VALERIA	In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it.
	Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against
	whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of
	our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set
	down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt
	prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true,
	on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us.

VIRGILIA	Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every
	thing hereafter.

VOLUMNIA	Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but
	disease our better mirth.

VALERIA	In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then.
	Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy
	solemness out o' door. and go along with us.

VIRGILIA	No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish
	you much mirth.

VALERIA	Well, then, farewell.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE IV	Before Corioli.


	[Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS
	LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a
	Messenger]

MARCIUS	Yonder comes news. A wager they have met.

LARTIUS	My horse to yours, no.

MARCIUS	'Tis done.

LARTIUS	Agreed.

MARCIUS	Say, has our general met the enemy?

Messenger	They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet.

LARTIUS	So, the good horse is mine.

MARCIUS	I'll buy him of you.

LARTIUS	No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will
	For half a hundred years. Summon the town.

MARCIUS	How far off lie these armies?

Messenger	Within this mile and half.

MARCIUS	Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours.
	Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work,
	That we with smoking swords may march from hence,
	To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast.

	[They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others
	on the walls]

	Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls?

First Senator	No, nor a man that fears you less than he,
	That's lesser than a little.

	[Drums afar off]

		       Hark! our drums
	Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls,
	Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates,
	Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes;
	They'll open of themselves.

	[Alarum afar off]

		      Hark you. far off!
	There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes
	Amongst your cloven army.

MARCIUS	O, they are at it!

LARTIUS	Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho!

	[Enter the army of the Volsces]

MARCIUS	They fear us not, but issue forth their city.
	Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight
	With hearts more proof than shields. Advance,
	brave Titus:
	They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts,
	Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows:
	He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce,
	And he shall feel mine edge.

	[Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their
	trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing]

MARCIUS	All the contagion of the south light on you,
	You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues
	Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd
	Further than seen and one infect another
	Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese,
	That bear the shapes of men, how have you run
	From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell!
	All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale
	With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home,
	Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe
	And make my wars on you: look to't: come on;
	If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives,
	As they us to our trenches followed.

	[Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS
	follows them to the gates]

	So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds:
	'Tis for the followers fortune widens them,
	Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like.

	[Enters the gates]

First Soldier	Fool-hardiness; not I.

Second Soldier	Nor I.

	[MARCIUS is shut in]

First Soldier	See, they have shut him in.

All	To the pot, I warrant him.

	[Alarum continues]

	[Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS]

LARTIUS	What is become of Marcius?

All	Slain, sir, doubtless.

First Soldier	Following the fliers at the very heels,
	With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,
	Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone,
	To answer all the city.

LARTIUS	O noble fellow!
	Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,
	And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius:
	A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
	Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier
	Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible
	Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and
	The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,
	Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world
	Were feverous and did tremble.

	[Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy]

First Soldier	Look, sir.

LARTIUS	O,'tis Marcius!
	Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.

	[They fight, and all enter the city]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE V	Corioli. A street.


	[Enter certain Romans, with spoils]

First Roman	This will I carry to Rome.

Second Roman	And I this.

Third Roman	A murrain on't! I took this for silver.

	[Alarum continues still afar off]

	[Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet]

MARCIUS	See here these movers that do prize their hours
	At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
	Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
	Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
	Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them!
	And hark, what noise the general makes! To him!
	There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius,
	Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take
	Convenient numbers to make good the city;
	Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
	To help Cominius.

LARTIUS	                  Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
	Thy exercise hath been too violent for
	A second course of fight.

MARCIUS	Sir, praise me not;
	My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well:
	The blood I drop is rather physical
	Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus
	I will appear, and fight.

LARTIUS	Now the fair goddess, Fortune,
	Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
	Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
	Prosperity be thy page!

MARCIUS	Thy friend no less
	Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.

LARTIUS	Thou worthiest Marcius!

	[Exit MARCIUS]

	Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
	Call thither all the officers o' the town,
	Where they shall know our mind: away!

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE VI	Near the camp of Cominius.


	[Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire,
	with soldiers]

COMINIUS	Breathe you, my friends: well fought;
	we are come off
	Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands,
	Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,
	We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck,
	By interims and conveying gusts we have heard
	The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods!
	Lead their successes as we wish our own,
	That both our powers, with smiling
	fronts encountering,
	May give you thankful sacrifice.

	[Enter a Messenger]

		                  Thy news?

Messenger	The citizens of Corioli have issued,
	And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle:
	I saw our party to their trenches driven,
	And then I came away.

COMINIUS	Though thou speak'st truth,
	Methinks thou speak'st not well.
	How long is't since?

Messenger	Above an hour, my lord.

COMINIUS	'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums:
	How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour,
	And bring thy news so late?

Messenger	Spies of the Volsces
	Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel
	Three or four miles about, else had I, sir,
	Half an hour since brought my report.

COMINIUS	Who's yonder,
	That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods
	He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have
	Before-time seen him thus.

MARCIUS	[Within]                 Come I too late?

COMINIUS	The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour
	More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue
	From every meaner man.

	[Enter MARCIUS]

MARCIUS	Come I too late?

COMINIUS	Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
	But mantled in your own.

MARCIUS	O, let me clip ye
	In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart
	As merry as when our nuptial day was done,
	And tapers burn'd to bedward!

COMINIUS	Flower of warriors,
	How is it with Titus Lartius?

MARCIUS	As with a man busied about decrees:
	Condemning some to death, and some to exile;
	Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other;
	Holding Corioli in the name of Rome,
	Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash,
	To let him slip at will.

COMINIUS	Where is that slave
	Which told me they had beat you to your trenches?
	Where is he? call him hither.

MARCIUS	Let him alone;
	He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen,
	The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!--
	The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge
	From rascals worse than they.

COMINIUS	But how prevail'd you?

MARCIUS	Will the time serve to tell? I do not think.
	Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field?
	If not, why cease you till you are so?

COMINIUS	Marcius,
	We have at disadvantage fought and did
	Retire to win our purpose.

MARCIUS	How lies their battle? know you on which side
	They have placed their men of trust?

COMINIUS	As I guess, Marcius,
	Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates,
	Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius,
	Their very heart of hope.

MARCIUS	I do beseech you,
	By all the battles wherein we have fought,
	By the blood we have shed together, by the vows
	We have made to endure friends, that you directly
	Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates;
	And that you not delay the present, but,
	Filling the air with swords advanced and darts,
	We prove this very hour.

COMINIUS	Though I could wish
	You were conducted to a gentle bath
	And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never
	Deny your asking: take your choice of those
	That best can aid your action.

MARCIUS	Those are they
	That most are willing. If any such be here--
	As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting
	Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear
	Lesser his person than an ill report;
	If any think brave death outweighs bad life
	And that his country's dearer than himself;
	Let him alone, or so many so minded,
	Wave thus, to express his disposition,
	And follow Marcius.

	[They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in
	their arms, and cast up their caps]

	O, me alone! make you a sword of me?
	If these shows be not outward, which of you
	But is four Volsces? none of you but is
	Able to bear against the great Aufidius
	A shield as hard as his. A certain number,
	Though thanks to all, must I select
	from all: the rest
	Shall bear the business in some other fight,
	As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march;
	And four shall quickly draw out my command,
	Which men are best inclined.

COMINIUS	March on, my fellows:
	Make good this ostentation, and you shall
	Divide in all with us.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE VII	The gates of Corioli.


	[TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon
	Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward
	COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with
	Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout]

LARTIUS	So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties,
	As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch
	Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve
	For a short holding: if we lose the field,
	We cannot keep the town.

Lieutenant	Fear not our care, sir.

LARTIUS	Hence, and shut your gates upon's.
	Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE VIII	A field of battle.


	[Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides,
	MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS]

MARCIUS	I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee
	Worse than a promise-breaker.

AUFIDIUS	We hate alike:
	Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
	More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.

MARCIUS	Let the first budger die the other's slave,
	And the gods doom him after!

AUFIDIUS	If I fly, Marcius,
	Holloa me like a hare.

MARCIUS	Within these three hours, Tullus,
	Alone I fought in your Corioli walls,
	And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood
	Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge
	Wrench up thy power to the highest.

AUFIDIUS	Wert thou the Hector
	That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny,
	Thou shouldst not scape me here.

	[They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of
	AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in
	breathless]

	Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me
	In your condemned seconds.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE IX	The Roman camp.


	[Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish.
	Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from
	the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf]

COMINIUS	If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
	Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it
	Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles,
	Where great patricians shall attend and shrug,
	I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted,
	And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the
	dull tribunes,
	That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,
	Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods
	Our Rome hath such a soldier.'
	Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast,
	Having fully dined before.

	[Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power,
	from the pursuit]

LARTIUS	O general,
	Here is the steed, we the caparison:
	Hadst thou beheld--

MARCIUS	Pray now, no more: my mother,
	Who has a charter to extol her blood,
	When she does praise me grieves me. I have done
	As you have done; that's what I can; induced
	As you have been; that's for my country:
	He that has but effected his good will
	Hath overta'en mine act.

COMINIUS	You shall not be
	The grave of your deserving; Rome must know
	The value of her own: 'twere a concealment
	Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,
	To hide your doings; and to silence that,
	Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd,
	Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you
	In sign of what you are, not to reward
	What you have done--before our army hear me.

MARCIUS	I have some wounds upon me, and they smart
	To hear themselves remember'd.

COMINIUS	Should they not,
	Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude,
	And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses,
	Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all
	The treasure in this field achieved and city,
	We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth,
	Before the common distribution, at
	Your only choice.

MARCIUS	                  I thank you, general;
	But cannot make my heart consent to take
	A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it;
	And stand upon my common part with those
	That have beheld the doing.

	[A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!'
	cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS
	stand bare]

MARCIUS	May these same instruments, which you profane,
	Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall
	I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
	Made all of false-faced soothing!
	When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk,
	Let him be made a coverture for the wars!
	No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd
	My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.--
	Which, without note, here's many else have done,--
	You shout me forth
	In acclamations hyperbolical;
	As if I loved my little should be dieted
	In praises sauced with lies.

COMINIUS	Too modest are you;
	More cruel to your good report than grateful
	To us that give you truly: by your patience,
	If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you,
	Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles,
	Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known,
	As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius
	Wears this war's garland: in token of the which,
	My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him,
	With all his trim belonging; and from this time,
	For what he did before Corioli, call him,
	With all the applause and clamour of the host,
	CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear
	The addition nobly ever!

	[Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums]

All	Caius Marcius Coriolanus!

CORIOLANUS	I will go wash;
	And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
	Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you.
	I mean to stride your steed, and at all times
	To undercrest your good addition
	To the fairness of my power.

COMINIUS	So, to our tent;
	Where, ere we do repose us, we will write
	To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius,
	Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome
	The best, with whom we may articulate,
	For their own good and ours.

LARTIUS	I shall, my lord.

CORIOLANUS	The gods begin to mock me. I, that now
	Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg
	Of my lord general.

COMINIUS	Take't; 'tis yours. What is't?

CORIOLANUS	I sometime lay here in Corioli
	At a poor man's house; he used me kindly:
	He cried to me; I saw him prisoner;
	But then Aufidius was within my view,
	And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you
	To give my poor host freedom.

COMINIUS	O, well begg'd!
	Were he the butcher of my son, he should
	Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus.

LARTIUS	Marcius, his name?

CORIOLANUS	                  By Jupiter! forgot.
	I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.
	Have we no wine here?

COMINIUS	Go we to our tent:
	The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time
	It should be look'd to: come.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT I



SCENE X	The camp of the Volsces.


	[A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS,
	bloody, with two or three Soldiers]

AUFIDIUS	The town is ta'en!

First Soldier	'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition.

AUFIDIUS	Condition!
	I would I were a Roman; for I cannot,
	Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition!
	What good condition can a treaty find
	I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius,
	I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me,
	And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter
	As often as we eat. By the elements,
	If e'er again I meet him beard to beard,
	He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation
	Hath not that honour in't it had; for where
	I thought to crush him in an equal force,
	True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way
	Or wrath or craft may get him.

First Soldier	He's the devil.

AUFIDIUS	Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd
	With only suffering stain by him; for him
	Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary,
	Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol,
	The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice,
	Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up
	Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst
	My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it
	At home, upon my brother's guard, even there,
	Against the hospitable canon, would I
	Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city;
	Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must
	Be hostages for Rome.

First Soldier	Will not you go?

AUFIDIUS	I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you--
	'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither
	How the world goes, that to the pace of it
	I may spur on my journey.

First Soldier	I shall, sir.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT II



SCENE I	Rome. A public place.


	[Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people,
	SICINIUS and BRUTUS.

MENENIUS	The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night.

BRUTUS	Good or bad?

MENENIUS	Not according to the prayer of the people, for they
	love not Marcius.

SICINIUS	Nature teaches beasts to know their friends.

MENENIUS	Pray you, who does the wolf love?

SICINIUS	The lamb.

MENENIUS	Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the
	noble Marcius.

BRUTUS	He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear.

MENENIUS	He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two
	are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you.

Both	Well, sir.

MENENIUS	In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two
	have not in abundance?

BRUTUS	He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all.

SICINIUS	Especially in pride.

BRUTUS	And topping all others in boasting.

MENENIUS	This is strange now: do you two know how you are
	censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the
	right-hand file? do you?

Both	Why, how are we censured?

MENENIUS	Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry?

Both	Well, well, sir, well.

MENENIUS	Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of
	occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience:
	give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at
	your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a
	pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for
	being proud?

BRUTUS	We do it not alone, sir.

MENENIUS	I know you can do very little alone; for your helps
	are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous
	single: your abilities are too infant-like for
	doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you
	could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks,
	and make but an interior survey of your good selves!
	O that you could!

BRUTUS	What then, sir?

MENENIUS	Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting,
	proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as
	any in Rome.

SICINIUS	Menenius, you are known well enough too.

MENENIUS	I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that
	loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying
	Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in
	favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like
	upon too trivial motion; one that converses more
	with the buttock of the night than with the forehead
	of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my
	malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as
	you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink
	you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a
	crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have
	delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in
	compound with the major part of your syllables: and
	though I must be content to bear with those that say
	you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that
	tell you you have good faces. If you see this in
	the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known
	well enough too? what barm can your bisson
	conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be
	known well enough too?

BRUTUS	Come, sir, come, we know you well enough.

MENENIUS	You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You
	are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you
	wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a
	cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller;
	and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a
	second day of audience. When you are hearing a
	matter between party and party, if you chance to be
	pinched with the colic, you make faces like
	mummers; set up the bloody flag against all
	patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot,
	dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled
	by your hearing: all the peace you make in their
	cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
	a pair of strange ones.

BRUTUS	Come, come, you are well understood to be a
	perfecter giber for the table than a necessary
	bencher in the Capitol.

MENENIUS	Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall
	encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When
	you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the
	wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not
	so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's
	cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack-
	saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud;
	who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors
	since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the
	best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to
	your worships: more of your conversation would
	infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly
	plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you.

	[BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside]

	[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA]

	How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon,
	were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow
	your eyes so fast?

VOLUMNIA	Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for
	the love of Juno, let's go.

MENENIUS	Ha! Marcius coming home!

VOLUMNIA	Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous
	approbation.

MENENIUS	Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo!
	Marcius coming home!


VOLUMNIA	|
	|  Nay,'tis true.
VIRGILIA	|


VOLUMNIA	Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath
	another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one
	at home for you.

MENENIUS	I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for
	me!

VIRGILIA	Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't.

MENENIUS	A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven
	years' health; in which time I will make a lip at
	the physician: the most sovereign prescription in
	Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative,
	of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he
	not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded.

VIRGILIA	O, no, no, no.

VOLUMNIA	O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't.

MENENIUS	So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a'
	victory in his pocket? the wounds become him.

VOLUMNIA	On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home
	with the oaken garland.

MENENIUS	Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?

VOLUMNIA	Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but
	Aufidius got off.

MENENIUS	And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that:
	an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so
	fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold
	that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this?

VOLUMNIA	Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate
	has letters from the general, wherein he gives my
	son the whole name of the war: he hath in this
	action outdone his former deeds doubly

VALERIA	In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him.

MENENIUS	Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his
	true purchasing.

VIRGILIA	The gods grant them true!

VOLUMNIA	True! pow, wow.

MENENIUS	True! I'll be sworn they are true.
	Where is he wounded?

	[To the Tribunes]

	God save your good worships! Marcius is coming
	home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded?

VOLUMNIA	I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be
	large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall
	stand for his place. He received in the repulse of
	Tarquin seven hurts i' the body.

MENENIUS	One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's
	nine that I know.

VOLUMNIA	He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five
	wounds upon him.

MENENIUS	Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave.

	[A shout and flourish]

	Hark! the trumpets.

VOLUMNIA	These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he
	carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears:
	Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie;
	Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die.

	[A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the
	general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS,
	crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and
	Soldiers, and a Herald]

Herald	Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight
	Within Corioli gates: where he hath won,
	With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these
	In honour follows Coriolanus.
	Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!

	[Flourish]

All	Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus!

CORIOLANUS	No more of this; it does offend my heart:
	Pray now, no more.

COMINIUS	                  Look, sir, your mother!

CORIOLANUS	O,
	You have, I know, petition'd all the gods
	For my prosperity!

	[Kneels]

VOLUMNIA	                  Nay, my good soldier, up;
	My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and
	By deed-achieving honour newly named,--
	What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?--
	But O, thy wife!

CORIOLANUS	                  My gracious silence, hail!
	Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home,
	That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear,
	Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear,
	And mothers that lack sons.

MENENIUS	Now, the gods crown thee!

CORIOLANUS	And live you yet?

	[To VALERIA]
	O my sweet lady, pardon.

VOLUMNIA	I know not where to turn: O, welcome home:
	And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all.

MENENIUS	A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep
	And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome.
	A curse begin at very root on's heart,
	That is not glad to see thee! You are three
	That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men,
	We have some old crab-trees here
	at home that will not
	Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:
	We call a nettle but a nettle and
	The faults of fools but folly.

COMINIUS	Ever right.

CORIOLANUS	Menenius ever, ever.

Herald	Give way there, and go on!

CORIOLANUS	[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA]  Your hand, and yours:
	Ere in our own house I do shade my head,
	The good patricians must be visited;
	From whom I have received not only greetings,
	But with them change of honours.

VOLUMNIA	I have lived
	To see inherited my very wishes
	And the buildings of my fancy: only
	There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but
	Our Rome will cast upon thee.

CORIOLANUS	Know, good mother,
	I had rather be their servant in my way,
	Than sway with them in theirs.

COMINIUS	On, to the Capitol!

	[Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before.
	BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward]

BRUTUS	All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights
	Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse
	Into a rapture lets her baby cry
	While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins
	Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
	Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows,
	Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed
	With variable complexions, all agreeing
	In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens
	Do press among the popular throngs and puff
	To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames
	Commit the war of white and damask in
	Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil
	Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother
	As if that whatsoever god who leads him
	Were slily crept into his human powers
	And gave him graceful posture.

SICINIUS	On the sudden,
	I warrant him consul.

BRUTUS	Then our office may,
	During his power, go sleep.

SICINIUS	He cannot temperately transport his honours
	From where he should begin and end, but will
	Lose those he hath won.

BRUTUS	In that there's comfort.

SICINIUS	Doubt not
	The commoners, for whom we stand, but they
	Upon their ancient malice will forget
	With the least cause these his new honours, which
	That he will give them make I as little question
	As he is proud to do't.

BRUTUS	I heard him swear,
	Were he to stand for consul, never would he
	Appear i' the market-place nor on him put
	The napless vesture of humility;
	Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds
	To the people, beg their stinking breaths.

SICINIUS	'Tis right.

BRUTUS	It was his word: O, he would miss it rather
	Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him,
	And the desire of the nobles.

SICINIUS	I wish no better
	Than have him hold that purpose and to put it
	In execution.

BRUTUS	'Tis most like he will.

SICINIUS	It shall be to him then as our good wills,
	A sure destruction.

BRUTUS	So it must fall out
	To him or our authorities. For an end,
	We must suggest the people in what hatred
	He still hath held them; that to's power he would
	Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and
	Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them,
	In human action and capacity,
	Of no more soul nor fitness for the world
	Than camels in the war, who have their provand
	Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows
	For sinking under them.

SICINIUS	This, as you say, suggested
	At some time when his soaring insolence
	Shall touch the people--which time shall not want,
	If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy
	As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire
	To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze
	Shall darken him for ever.

	[Enter a Messenger]

BRUTUS	What's the matter?

Messenger	You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought
	That Marcius shall be consul:
	I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and
	The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves,
	Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers,
	Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended,
	As to Jove's statue, and the commons made
	A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts:
	I never saw the like.

BRUTUS	Let's to the Capitol;
	And carry with us ears and eyes for the time,
	But hearts for the event.

SICINIUS	Have with you.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT II



SCENE  II	The same. The Capitol.


	[Enter two Officers, to lay cushions]

First Officer	Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand
	for consulships?

Second Officer	Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one
	Coriolanus will carry it.

First Officer	That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and
	loves not the common people.

Second Officer	Faith, there had been many great men that have
	flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there
	be many that they have loved, they know not
	wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why,
	they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for
	Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate
	him manifests the true knowledge he has in their
	disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets
	them plainly see't.

First Officer	If he did not care whether he had their love or no,
	he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither
	good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater
	devotion than can render it him; and leaves
	nothing undone that may fully discover him their
	opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and
	displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he
	dislikes, to flatter them for their love.

Second Officer	He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his
	ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who,
	having been supple and courteous to the people,
	bonneted, without any further deed to have them at
	an into their estimation and report: but he hath so
	planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions
	in their hearts, that for their tongues to be
	silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of
	ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a
	malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck
	reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it.

First Officer	No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they
	are coming.

	[A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS
	the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators,
	SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their
	places; the Tribunes take their Places by
	themselves. CORIOLANUS stands]

MENENIUS	Having determined of the Volsces and
	To send for Titus Lartius, it remains,
	As the main point of this our after-meeting,
	To gratify his noble service that
	Hath thus stood for his country: therefore,
	please you,
	Most reverend and grave elders, to desire
	The present consul, and last general
	In our well-found successes, to report
	A little of that worthy work perform'd
	By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom
	We met here both to thank and to remember
	With honours like himself.

First Senator	Speak, good Cominius:
	Leave nothing out for length, and make us think
	Rather our state's defective for requital
	Than we to stretch it out.

	[To the Tribunes]

		     Masters o' the people,
	We do request your kindest ears, and after,
	Your loving motion toward the common body,
	To yield what passes here.

SICINIUS	We are convented
	Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts
	Inclinable to honour and advance
	The theme of our assembly.

BRUTUS	Which the rather
	We shall be blest to do, if he remember
	A kinder value of the people than
	He hath hereto prized them at.

MENENIUS	That's off, that's off;
	I would you rather had been silent. Please you
	To hear Cominius speak?

BRUTUS	Most willingly;
	But yet my caution was more pertinent
	Than the rebuke you give it.

MENENIUS	He loves your people
	But tie him not to be their bedfellow.
	Worthy Cominius, speak.

	[CORIOLANUS offers to go away]

		  Nay, keep your place.

First Senator	Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear
	What you have nobly done.

CORIOLANUS	Your horror's pardon:
	I had rather have my wounds to heal again
	Than hear say how I got them.

BRUTUS	Sir, I hope
	My words disbench'd you not.

CORIOLANUS	No, sir: yet oft,
	When blows have made me stay, I fled from words.
	You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but
	your people,
	I love them as they weigh.

MENENIUS	Pray now, sit down.

CORIOLANUS	I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun
	When the alarum were struck than idly sit
	To hear my nothings monster'd.

	[Exit]

MENENIUS	Masters of the people,
	Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter--
	That's thousand to one good one--when you now see
	He had rather venture all his limbs for honour
	Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius.

COMINIUS	I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
	Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
	That valour is the chiefest virtue, and
	Most dignifies the haver: if it be,
	The man I speak of cannot in the world
	Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years,
	When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
	Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator,
	Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight,
	When with his Amazonian chin he drove
	The bristled lips before him: be bestrid
	An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view
	Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met,
	And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats,
	When he might act the woman in the scene,
	He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed
	Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age
	Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea,
	And in the brunt of seventeen battles since
	He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last,
	Before and in Corioli, let me say,
	I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers;
	And by his rare example made the coward
	Turn terror into sport: as weeds before
	A vessel under sail, so men obey'd
	And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp,
	Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot
	He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
	Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd
	The mortal gate of the city, which he painted
	With shunless destiny; aidless came off,
	And with a sudden reinforcement struck
	Corioli like a planet: now all's his:
	When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce
	His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit
	Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,
	And to the battle came he; where he did
	Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if
	'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd
	Both field and city ours, he never stood
	To ease his breast with panting.

MENENIUS	Worthy man!

First Senator	He cannot but with measure fit the honours
	Which we devise him.

COMINIUS	Our spoils he kick'd at,
	And look'd upon things precious as they were
	The common muck of the world: he covets less
	Than misery itself would give; rewards
	His deeds with doing them, and is content
	To spend the time to end it.

MENENIUS	He's right noble:
	Let him be call'd for.

First Senator	Call Coriolanus.

Officer	He doth appear.

	[Re-enter CORIOLANUS]

MENENIUS	The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased
	To make thee consul.

CORIOLANUS	I do owe them still
	My life and services.

MENENIUS	It then remains
	That you do speak to the people.

CORIOLANUS	I do beseech you,
	Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot
	Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them,
	For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you
	That I may pass this doing.

SICINIUS	Sir, the people
	Must have their voices; neither will they bate
	One jot of ceremony.

MENENIUS	Put them not to't:
	Pray you, go fit you to the custom and
	Take to you, as your predecessors have,
	Your honour with your form.

CORIOLANUS	It is apart
	That I shall blush in acting, and might well
	Be taken from the people.

BRUTUS	Mark you that?

CORIOLANUS	To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus;
	Show them the unaching scars which I should hide,
	As if I had received them for the hire
	Of their breath only!

MENENIUS	Do not stand upon't.
	We recommend to you, tribunes of the people,
	Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul
	Wish we all joy and honour.

Senators	To Coriolanus come all joy and honour!

	[Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS
	and BRUTUS]

BRUTUS	You see how he intends to use the people.

SICINIUS	May they perceive's intent! He will require them,
	As if he did contemn what he requested
	Should be in them to give.

BRUTUS	Come, we'll inform them
	Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace,
	I know, they do attend us.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT II



SCENE III	The same. The Forum.


	[Enter seven or eight Citizens]

First Citizen	Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.

Second Citizen	We may, sir, if we will.

Third Citizen	We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a
	power that we have no power to do; for if he show us
	his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our
	tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if
	he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him
	our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is
	monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful,
	were to make a monster of the multitude: of the
	which we being members, should bring ourselves to be
	monstrous members.

First Citizen	And to make us no better thought of, a little help
	will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he
	himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude.

Third Citizen	We have been called so of many; not that our heads
	are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald,
	but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and
	truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of
	one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south,
	and their consent of one direct way should be at
	once to all the points o' the compass.

Second Citizen	Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would
	fly?

Third Citizen	Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's
	will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but
	if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward.

Second Citizen	Why that way?

Third Citizen	To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts
	melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return
	for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife.

Second Citizen	You are never without your tricks: you may, you may.

Third Citizen	Are you all resolved to give your voices? But
	that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I
	say, if he would incline to the people, there was
	never a worthier man.

	[Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility,
	with MENENIUS]

	Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his
	behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to
	come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and
	by threes. He's to make his requests by
	particulars; wherein every one of us has a single
	honour, in giving him our own voices with our own
	tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how
	you shall go by him.

All	Content, content.

	[Exeunt Citizens]

MENENIUS	O sir, you are not right: have you not known
	The worthiest men have done't?

CORIOLANUS	What must I say?
	'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring
	My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds!
	I got them in my country's service, when
	Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran
	From the noise of our own drums.'

MENENIUS	O me, the gods!
	You must not speak of that: you must desire them
	To think upon you.

CORIOLANUS	                  Think upon me! hang 'em!
	I would they would forget me, like the virtues
	Which our divines lose by 'em.

MENENIUS	You'll mar all:
	I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you,
	In wholesome manner.

	[Exit]

CORIOLANUS	Bid them wash their faces
	And keep their teeth clean.

	[Re-enter two of the Citizens]

		      So, here comes a brace.

	[Re-enter a third Citizen]

	You know the cause, air, of my standing here.

Third Citizen	We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't.

CORIOLANUS	Mine own desert.

Second Citizen	Your own desert!

CORIOLANUS	Ay, but not mine own desire.

Third Citizen	How not your own desire?

CORIOLANUS	No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the
	poor with begging.

Third Citizen	You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to
	gain by you.

CORIOLANUS	Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship?

First Citizen	The price is to ask it kindly.

CORIOLANUS	Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to
	show you, which shall be yours in private. Your
	good voice, sir; what say you?

Second Citizen	You shall ha' it, worthy sir.

CORIOLANUS	A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices
	begged. I have your alms: adieu.

Third Citizen	But this is something odd.

Second Citizen	An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter.

	[Exeunt the three Citizens]

	[Re-enter two other Citizens]

CORIOLANUS	Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your
	voices that I may be consul, I have here the
	customary gown.

Fourth Citizen	You have deserved nobly of your country, and you
	have not deserved nobly.

CORIOLANUS	Your enigma?

Fourth Citizen	You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have
	been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved
	the common people.

CORIOLANUS	You should account me the more virtuous that I have
	not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my
	sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer
	estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account
	gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is
	rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise
	the insinuating nod and be off to them most
	counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the
	bewitchment of some popular man and give it
	bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you,
	I may be consul.

Fifth Citizen	We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give
	you our voices heartily.

Fourth Citizen	You have received many wounds for your country.

CORIOLANUS	I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I
	will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further.

Both Citizens	The gods give you joy, sir, heartily!

	[Exeunt]

CORIOLANUS	Most sweet voices!
	Better it is to die, better to starve,
	Than crave the hire which first we do deserve.
	Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here,
	To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear,
	Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't:
	What custom wills, in all things should we do't,
	The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
	And mountainous error be too highly heapt
	For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so,
	Let the high office and the honour go
	To one that would do thus. I am half through;
	The one part suffer'd, the other will I do.

	[Re-enter three Citizens more]

	Here come more voices.
	Your voices: for your voices I have fought;
	Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear
	Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six
	I have seen and heard of; for your voices have
	Done many things, some less, some more your voices:
	Indeed I would be consul.

Sixth Citizen	He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest
	man's voice.

Seventh Citizen	Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy,
	and make him good friend to the people!

All Citizens	Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul!

	[Exeunt]

CORIOLANUS	Worthy voices!

	[Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS]

MENENIUS	You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes
	Endue you with the people's voice: remains
	That, in the official marks invested, you
	Anon do meet the senate.

CORIOLANUS	Is this done?

SICINIUS	The custom of request you have discharged:
	The people do admit you, and are summon'd
	To meet anon, upon your approbation.

CORIOLANUS	Where? at the senate-house?

SICINIUS	There, Coriolanus.

CORIOLANUS	May I change these garments?

SICINIUS	You may, sir.

CORIOLANUS	That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again,
	Repair to the senate-house.

MENENIUS	I'll keep you company. Will you along?

BRUTUS	We stay here for the people.

SICINIUS	Fare you well.

	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS]

	He has it now, and by his looks methink
	'Tis warm at 's heart.

BRUTUS	With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds.
	will you dismiss the people?

	[Re-enter Citizens]

SICINIUS	How now, my masters! have you chose this man?

First Citizen	He has our voices, sir.

BRUTUS	We pray the gods he may deserve your loves.

Second Citizen	Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice,
	He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices.

Third Citizen	Certainly
	He flouted us downright.

First Citizen	No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us.

Second Citizen	Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says
	He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us
	His marks of merit, wounds received for's country.

SICINIUS	Why, so he did, I am sure.

Citizens	No, no; no man saw 'em.

Third Citizen	He said he had wounds, which he could show
	in private;
	And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn,
	'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom,
	But by your voices, will not so permit me;
	Your voices therefore.' When we granted that,
	Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you:
	Your most sweet voices: now you have left
	your voices,
	I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery?

SICINIUS	Why either were you ignorant to see't,
	Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness
	To yield your voices?

BRUTUS	Could you not have told him
	As you were lesson'd, when he had no power,
	But was a petty servant to the state,
	He was your enemy, ever spake against
	Your liberties and the charters that you bear
	I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving
	A place of potency and sway o' the state,
	If he should still malignantly remain
	Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might
	Be curses to yourselves? You should have said
	That as his worthy deeds did claim no less
	Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature
	Would think upon you for your voices and
	Translate his malice towards you into love,
	Standing your friendly lord.

SICINIUS	Thus to have said,
	As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit
	And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd
	Either his gracious promise, which you might,
	As cause had call'd you up, have held him to
	Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature,
	Which easily endures not article
	Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage,
	You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler
	And pass'd him unelected.

BRUTUS	Did you perceive
	He did solicit you in free contempt
	When he did need your loves, and do you think
	That his contempt shall not be bruising to you,
	When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies
	No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry
	Against the rectorship of judgment?

SICINIUS	Have you
	Ere now denied the asker? and now again
	Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow
	Your sued-for tongues?

Third Citizen	He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet.

Second Citizen	And will deny him:
	I'll have five hundred voices of that sound.

First Citizen	I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em.

BRUTUS	Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends,
	They have chose a consul that will from them take
	Their liberties; make them of no more voice
	Than dogs that are as often beat for barking
	As therefore kept to do so.

SICINIUS	Let them assemble,
	And on a safer judgment all revoke
	Your ignorant election; enforce his pride,
	And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not
	With what contempt he wore the humble weed,
	How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves,
	Thinking upon his services, took from you
	The apprehension of his present portance,
	Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion
	After the inveterate hate he bears you.

BRUTUS	Lay
	A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured,
	No impediment between, but that you must
	Cast your election on him.

SICINIUS	Say, you chose him
	More after our commandment than as guided
	By your own true affections, and that your minds,
	Preoccupied with what you rather must do
	Than what you should, made you against the grain
	To voice him consul: lay the fault on us.

BRUTUS	Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you.
	How youngly he began to serve his country,
	How long continued, and what stock he springs of,
	The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came
	That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son,
	Who, after great Hostilius, here was king;
	Of the same house Publius and Quintus were,
	That our beat water brought by conduits hither;
	And  [Censorinus,]  nobly named so,
	Twice being  [by the people chosen]  censor,
	Was his great ancestor.

SICINIUS	One thus descended,
	That hath beside well in his person wrought
	To be set high in place, we did commend
	To your remembrances: but you have found,
	Scaling his present bearing with his past,
	That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke
	Your sudden approbation.

BRUTUS	Say, you ne'er had done't--
	Harp on that still--but by our putting on;
	And presently, when you have drawn your number,
	Repair to the Capitol.

All	We will so: almost all
	Repent in their election.

	[Exeunt Citizens]

BRUTUS	Let them go on;
	This mutiny were better put in hazard,
	Than stay, past doubt, for greater:
	If, as his nature is, he fall in rage
	With their refusal, both observe and answer
	The vantage of his anger.

SICINIUS	To the Capitol, come:
	We will be there before the stream o' the people;
	And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own,
	Which we have goaded onward.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT III



SCENE I	Rome. A street.


	[Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the
	Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators]

CORIOLANUS	Tullus Aufidius then had made new head?

LARTIUS	He had, my lord; and that it was which caused
	Our swifter composition.

CORIOLANUS	So then the Volsces stand but as at first,
	Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road.
	Upon's again.

COMINIUS	They are worn, lord consul, so,
	That we shall hardly in our ages see
	Their banners wave again.

CORIOLANUS	Saw you Aufidius?

LARTIUS	On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse
	Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely
	Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium.

CORIOLANUS	Spoke he of me?

LARTIUS	                  He did, my lord.

CORIOLANUS	How? what?

LARTIUS	How often he had met you, sword to sword;
	That of all things upon the earth he hated
	Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes
	To hopeless restitution, so he might
	Be call'd your vanquisher.

CORIOLANUS	At Antium lives he?

LARTIUS	At Antium.

CORIOLANUS	I wish I had a cause to seek him there,
	To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home.

	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]

	Behold, these are the tribunes of the people,
	The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them;
	For they do prank them in authority,
	Against all noble sufferance.

SICINIUS	Pass no further.

CORIOLANUS	Ha! what is that?

BRUTUS	It will be dangerous to go on: no further.

CORIOLANUS	What makes this change?

MENENIUS	The matter?

COMINIUS	Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common?

BRUTUS	Cominius, no.

CORIOLANUS	                  Have I had children's voices?

First Senator	Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place.

BRUTUS	The people are incensed against him.

SICINIUS	Stop,
	Or all will fall in broil.

CORIOLANUS	Are these your herd?
	Must these have voices, that can yield them now
	And straight disclaim their tongues? What are
	your offices?
	You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth?
	Have you not set them on?

MENENIUS	Be calm, be calm.

CORIOLANUS	It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot,
	To curb the will of the nobility:
	Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule
	Nor ever will be ruled.

BRUTUS	Call't not a plot:
	The people cry you mock'd them, and of late,
	When corn was given them gratis, you repined;
	Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them
	Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness.

CORIOLANUS	Why, this was known before.

BRUTUS	Not to them all.

CORIOLANUS	Have you inform'd them sithence?

BRUTUS	How! I inform them!

CORIOLANUS	You are like to do such business.

BRUTUS	Not unlike,
	Each way, to better yours.

CORIOLANUS	Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds,
	Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me
	Your fellow tribune.

SICINIUS	You show too much of that
	For which the people stir: if you will pass
	To where you are bound, you must inquire your way,
	Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit,
	Or never be so noble as a consul,
	Nor yoke with him for tribune.

MENENIUS	Let's be calm.

COMINIUS	The people are abused; set on. This paltering
	Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus
	Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely
	I' the plain way of his merit.

CORIOLANUS	Tell me of corn!
	This was my speech, and I will speak't again--

MENENIUS	Not now, not now.

First Senator	                  Not in this heat, sir, now.

CORIOLANUS	Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends,
	I crave their pardons:
	For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them
	Regard me as I do not flatter, and
	Therein behold themselves: I say again,
	In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate
	The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition,
	Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd,
	and scatter'd,
	By mingling them with us, the honour'd number,
	Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that
	Which they have given to beggars.

MENENIUS	Well, no more.

First Senator	No more words, we beseech you.

CORIOLANUS	How! no more!
	As for my country I have shed my blood,
	Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs
	Coin words till their decay against those measles,
	Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought
	The very way to catch them.

BRUTUS	You speak o' the people,
	As if you were a god to punish, not
	A man of their infirmity.

SICINIUS	'Twere well
	We let the people know't.

MENENIUS	What, what? his choler?

CORIOLANUS	Choler!
	Were I as patient as the midnight sleep,
	By Jove, 'twould be my mind!

SICINIUS	It is a mind
	That shall remain a poison where it is,
	Not poison any further.

CORIOLANUS	Shall remain!
	Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
	His absolute 'shall'?

COMINIUS	'Twas from the canon.

CORIOLANUS	'Shall'!
	O good but most unwise patricians! why,
	You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
	Given Hydra here to choose an officer,
	That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but
	The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit
	To say he'll turn your current in a ditch,
	And make your channel his? If he have power
	Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake
	Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd,
	Be not as common fools; if you are not,
	Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians,
	If they be senators: and they are no less,
	When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste
	Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate,
	And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,'
	His popular 'shall' against a graver bench
	Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself!
	It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches
	To know, when two authorities are up,
	Neither supreme, how soon confusion
	May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take
	The one by the other.

COMINIUS	Well, on to the market-place.

CORIOLANUS	Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth
	The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used
	Sometime in Greece,--

MENENIUS	Well, well, no more of that.

CORIOLANUS	Though there the people had more absolute power,
	I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed
	The ruin of the state.

BRUTUS	Why, shall the people give
	One that speaks thus their voice?

CORIOLANUS	I'll give my reasons,
	More worthier than their voices. They know the corn
	Was not our recompense, resting well assured
	That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war,
	Even when the navel of the state was touch'd,
	They would not thread the gates. This kind of service
	Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war
	Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd
	Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation
	Which they have often made against the senate,
	All cause unborn, could never be the motive
	Of our so frank donation. Well, what then?
	How shall this bisson multitude digest
	The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express
	What's like to be their words: 'we did request it;
	We are the greater poll, and in true fear
	They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase
	The nature of our seats and make the rabble
	Call our cares fears; which will in time
	Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in
	The crows to peck the eagles.

MENENIUS	Come, enough.

BRUTUS	Enough, with over-measure.

CORIOLANUS	No, take more:
	What may be sworn by, both divine and human,
	Seal what I end withal! This double worship,
	Where one part does disdain with cause, the other
	Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom,
	Cannot conclude but by the yea and no
	Of general ignorance,--it must omit
	Real necessities, and give way the while
	To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd,
	it follows,
	Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,--
	You that will be less fearful than discreet,
	That love the fundamental part of state
	More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer
	A noble life before a long, and wish
	To jump a body with a dangerous physic
	That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out
	The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick
	The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour
	Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state
	Of that integrity which should become't,
	Not having the power to do the good it would,
	For the in which doth control't.

BRUTUS	Has said enough.

SICINIUS	Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer
	As traitors do.

CORIOLANUS	                  Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee!
	What should the people do with these bald tribunes?
	On whom depending, their obedience fails
	To the greater bench: in a rebellion,
	When what's not meet, but what must be, was law,
	Then were they chosen: in a better hour,
	Let what is meet be said it must be meet,
	And throw their power i' the dust.

BRUTUS	Manifest treason!

SICINIUS	                  This a consul? no.

BRUTUS	The aediles, ho!

	[Enter an AEdile]

	Let him be apprehended.

SICINIUS	Go, call the people:

	[Exit AEdile]

		in whose name myself
	Attach thee as a traitorous innovator,
	A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee,
	And follow to thine answer.

CORIOLANUS	Hence, old goat!

Senators, &C	We'll surety him.

COMINIUS	                  Aged sir, hands off.

CORIOLANUS	Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones
	Out of thy garments.

SICINIUS	Help, ye citizens!

	[Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with
	the AEdiles]

MENENIUS	On both sides more respect.

SICINIUS	Here's he that would take from you all your power.

BRUTUS	Seize him, AEdiles!

Citizens	Down with him! down with him!

Senators, &C	Weapons, weapons, weapons!

	[They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying]

	'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!'
	'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!'
	'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!'

MENENIUS	What is about to be? I am out of breath;
	Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes
	To the people! Coriolanus, patience!
	Speak, good Sicinius.

SICINIUS	Hear me, people; peace!

Citizens	Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.

SICINIUS	You are at point to lose your liberties:
	Marcius would have all from you; Marcius,
	Whom late you have named for consul.

MENENIUS	Fie, fie, fie!
	This is the way to kindle, not to quench.

First Senator	To unbuild the city and to lay all flat.

SICINIUS	What is the city but the people?

Citizens	True,
	The people are the city.

BRUTUS	By the consent of all, we were establish'd
	The people's magistrates.

Citizens	You so remain.

MENENIUS	And so are like to do.

COMINIUS	That is the way to lay the city flat;
	To bring the roof to the foundation,
	And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
	In heaps and piles of ruin.

SICINIUS	This deserves death.

BRUTUS	Or let us stand to our authority,
	Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce,
	Upon the part o' the people, in whose power
	We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy
	Of present death.

SICINIUS	                  Therefore lay hold of him;
	Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence
	Into destruction cast him.

BRUTUS	AEdiles, seize him!

Citizens	Yield, Marcius, yield!

MENENIUS	Hear me one word;
	Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word.

AEdile	Peace, peace!

MENENIUS	[To BRUTUS]  Be that you seem, truly your
	country's friend,
	And temperately proceed to what you would
	Thus violently redress.

BRUTUS	Sir, those cold ways,
	That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous
	Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him,
	And bear him to the rock.

CORIOLANUS	No, I'll die here.

	[Drawing his sword]

	There's some among you have beheld me fighting:
	Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me.

MENENIUS	Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile.

BRUTUS	Lay hands upon him.

COMINIUS	Help Marcius, help,
	You that be noble; help him, young and old!

Citizens	Down with him, down with him!

	[In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the
	People, are beat in]

MENENIUS	Go, get you to your house; be gone, away!
	All will be naught else.

Second Senator	Get you gone.

COMINIUS	Stand fast;
	We have as many friends as enemies.

MENENIUS	Sham it be put to that?

First Senator	The gods forbid!
	I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house;
	Leave us to cure this cause.

MENENIUS	For 'tis a sore upon us,
	You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you.

COMINIUS	Come, sir, along with us.

CORIOLANUS	I would they were barbarians--as they are,
	Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not,
	Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol--

MENENIUS	Be gone;
	Put not your worthy rage into your tongue;
	One time will owe another.

CORIOLANUS	On fair ground
	I could beat forty of them.

COMINIUS	I could myself
	Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the
	two tribunes:
	But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic;
	And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands
	Against a falling fabric. Will you hence,
	Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend
	Like interrupted waters and o'erbear
	What they are used to bear.

MENENIUS	Pray you, be gone:
	I'll try whether my old wit be in request
	With those that have but little: this must be patch'd
	With cloth of any colour.

COMINIUS	Nay, come away.

	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others]

A Patrician	This man has marr'd his fortune.

MENENIUS	His nature is too noble for the world:
	He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
	Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth:
	What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent;
	And, being angry, does forget that ever
	He heard the name of death.

	[A noise within]

		      Here's goodly work!

Second Patrician	I would they were abed!

MENENIUS	I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance!
	Could he not speak 'em fair?

	[Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble]

SICINIUS	Where is this viper
	That would depopulate the city and
	Be every man himself?

MENENIUS	You worthy tribunes,--

SICINIUS	He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock
	With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law,
	And therefore law shall scorn him further trial
	Than the severity of the public power
	Which he so sets at nought.

First Citizen	He shall well know
	The noble tribunes are the people's mouths,
	And we their hands.

Citizens	He shall, sure on't.

MENENIUS	Sir, sir,--

SICINIUS	Peace!

MENENIUS	Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt
	With modest warrant.

SICINIUS	Sir, how comes't that you
	Have holp to make this rescue?

MENENIUS	Hear me speak:
	As I do know the consul's worthiness,
	So can I name his faults,--

SICINIUS	Consul! what consul?

MENENIUS	The consul Coriolanus.

BRUTUS	He consul!

Citizens	No, no, no, no, no.

MENENIUS	If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people,
	I may be heard, I would crave a word or two;
	The which shall turn you to no further harm
	Than so much loss of time.

SICINIUS	Speak briefly then;
	For we are peremptory to dispatch
	This viperous traitor: to eject him hence
	Were but one danger, and to keep him here
	Our certain death: therefore it is decreed
	He dies to-night.

MENENIUS	                  Now the good gods forbid
	That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
	Towards her deserved children is enroll'd
	In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
	Should now eat up her own!

SICINIUS	He's a disease that must be cut away.

MENENIUS	O, he's a limb that has but a disease;
	Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy.
	What has he done to Rome that's worthy death?
	Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost--
	Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath,
	By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country;
	And what is left, to lose it by his country,
	Were to us all, that do't and suffer it,
	A brand to the end o' the world.

SICINIUS	This is clean kam.

BRUTUS	Merely awry: when he did love his country,
	It honour'd him.

MENENIUS	                  The service of the foot
	Being once gangrened, is not then respected
	For what before it was.

BRUTUS	We'll hear no more.
	Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence:
	Lest his infection, being of catching nature,
	Spread further.

MENENIUS	                  One word more, one word.
	This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find
	The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late
	Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process;
	Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out,
	And sack great Rome with Romans.

BRUTUS	If it were so,--

SICINIUS	What do ye talk?
	Have we not had a taste of his obedience?
	Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come.

MENENIUS	Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars
	Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd
	In bolted language; meal and bran together
	He throws without distinction. Give me leave,
	I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him
	Where he shall answer, by a lawful form,
	In peace, to his utmost peril.

First Senator	Noble tribunes,
	It is the humane way: the other course
	Will prove too bloody, and the end of it
	Unknown to the beginning.

SICINIUS	Noble Menenius,
	Be you then as the people's officer.
	Masters, lay down your weapons.

BRUTUS	Go not home.

SICINIUS	Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there:
	Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed
	In our first way.

MENENIUS	                  I'll bring him to you.

	[To the Senators]

	Let me desire your company: he must come,
	Or what is worst will follow.

First Senator	Pray you, let's to him.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT III



SCENE II	A room in CORIOLANUS'S house.


	[Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians]

CORIOLANUS	Let them puff all about mine ears, present me
	Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels,
	Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock,
	That the precipitation might down stretch
	Below the beam of sight, yet will I still
	Be thus to them.

A Patrician	You do the nobler.

CORIOLANUS	I muse my mother
	Does not approve me further, who was wont
	To call them woollen vassals, things created
	To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads
	In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder,
	When one but of my ordinance stood up
	To speak of peace or war.

	[Enter VOLUMNIA]

		    I talk of you:
	Why did you wish me milder? would you have me
	False to my nature? Rather say I play
	The man I am.

VOLUMNIA	                  O, sir, sir, sir,
	I would have had you put your power well on,
	Before you had worn it out.

CORIOLANUS	Let go.

VOLUMNIA	You might have been enough the man you are,
	With striving less to be so; lesser had been
	The thwartings of your dispositions, if
	You had not show'd them how ye were disposed
	Ere they lack'd power to cross you.

CORIOLANUS	Let them hang.

A Patrician	Ay, and burn too.

	[Enter MENENIUS and Senators]

MENENIUS	Come, come, you have been too rough, something
	too rough;
	You must return and mend it.

First Senator	There's no remedy;
	Unless, by not so doing, our good city
	Cleave in the midst, and perish.

VOLUMNIA	Pray, be counsell'd:
	I have a heart as little apt as yours,
	But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
	To better vantage.

MENENIUS	                  Well said, noble woman?
	Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that
	The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic
	For the whole state, I would put mine armour on,
	Which I can scarcely bear.

CORIOLANUS	What must I do?

MENENIUS	Return to the tribunes.

CORIOLANUS	Well, what then? what then?

MENENIUS	Repent what you have spoke.

CORIOLANUS	For them! I cannot do it to the gods;
	Must I then do't to them?

VOLUMNIA	You are too absolute;
	Though therein you can never be too noble,
	But when extremities speak. I have heard you say,
	Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends,
	I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me,
	In peace what each of them by the other lose,
	That they combine not there.

CORIOLANUS	Tush, tush!

MENENIUS	A good demand.

VOLUMNIA	If it be honour in your wars to seem
	The same you are not, which, for your best ends,
	You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse,
	That it shall hold companionship in peace
	With honour, as in war, since that to both
	It stands in like request?

CORIOLANUS	Why force you this?

VOLUMNIA	Because that now it lies you on to speak
	To the people; not by your own instruction,
	Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you,
	But with such words that are but rooted in
	Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables
	Of no allowance to your bosom's truth.
	Now, this no more dishonours you at all
	Than to take in a town with gentle words,
	Which else would put you to your fortune and
	The hazard of much blood.
	I would dissemble with my nature where
	My fortunes and my friends at stake required
	I should do so in honour: I am in this,
	Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles;
	And you will rather show our general louts
	How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em,
	For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard
	Of what that want might ruin.

MENENIUS	Noble lady!
	Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so,
	Not what is dangerous present, but the loss
	Of what is past.

VOLUMNIA	                  I prithee now, my son,
	Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
	And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them--
	Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business
	Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
	More learned than the ears--waving thy head,
	Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
	Now humble as the ripest mulberry
	That will not hold the handling: or say to them,
	Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils
	Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess,
	Were fit for thee to use as they to claim,
	In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame
	Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far
	As thou hast power and person.

MENENIUS	This but done,
	Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours;
	For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free
	As words to little purpose.

VOLUMNIA	Prithee now,
	Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather
	Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf
	Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius.

	[Enter COMINIUS]

COMINIUS	I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit
	You make strong party, or defend yourself
	By calmness or by absence: all's in anger.

MENENIUS	Only fair speech.

COMINIUS	                  I think 'twill serve, if he
	Can thereto frame his spirit.

VOLUMNIA	He must, and will
	Prithee now, say you will, and go about it.

CORIOLANUS	Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce?
	Must I with base tongue give my noble heart
	A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't:
	Yet, were there but this single plot to lose,
	This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it
	And throw't against the wind. To the market-place!
	You have put me now to such a part which never
	I shall discharge to the life.

COMINIUS	Come, come, we'll prompt you.

VOLUMNIA	I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said
	My praises made thee first a soldier, so,
	To have my praise for this, perform a part
	Thou hast not done before.

CORIOLANUS	Well, I must do't:
	Away, my disposition, and possess me
	Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd,
	Which quired with my drum, into a pipe
	Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice
	That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves
	Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up
	The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue
	Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees,
	Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his
	That hath received an alms! I will not do't,
	Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth
	And by my body's action teach my mind
	A most inherent baseness.

VOLUMNIA	At thy choice, then:
	To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour
	Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
	Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear
	Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death
	With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list
	Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me,
	But owe thy pride thyself.

CORIOLANUS	Pray, be content:
	Mother, I am going to the market-place;
	Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves,
	Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved
	Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going:
	Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul;
	Or never trust to what my tongue can do
	I' the way of flattery further.

VOLUMNIA	Do your will.

	[Exit]

COMINIUS	Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself
	To answer mildly; for they are prepared
	With accusations, as I hear, more strong
	Than are upon you yet.

CORIOLANUS	The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go:
	Let them accuse me by invention, I
	Will answer in mine honour.

MENENIUS	Ay, but mildly.

CORIOLANUS	Well, mildly be it then. Mildly!

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT III



SCENE III	The same. The Forum.


	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]

BRUTUS	In this point charge him home, that he affects
	Tyrannical power: if he evade us there,
	Enforce him with his envy to the people,
	And that the spoil got on the Antiates
	Was ne'er distributed.

	[Enter an AEdile]

	What, will he come?

AEdile	He's coming.

BRUTUS	How accompanied?

AEdile	With old Menenius, and those senators
	That always favour'd him.

SICINIUS	Have you a catalogue
	Of all the voices that we have procured
	Set down by the poll?

AEdile	I have; 'tis ready.

SICINIUS	Have you collected them by tribes?

AEdile	I have.

SICINIUS	Assemble presently the people hither;
	And when they bear me say 'It shall be so
	I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either
	For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them
	If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.'
	Insisting on the old prerogative
	And power i' the truth o' the cause.

AEdile	I shall inform them.

BRUTUS	And when such time they have begun to cry,
	Let them not cease, but with a din confused
	Enforce the present execution
	Of what we chance to sentence.

AEdile	Very well.

SICINIUS	Make them be strong and ready for this hint,
	When we shall hap to give 't them.

BRUTUS	Go about it.

	[Exit AEdile]

	Put him to choler straight: he hath been used
	Ever to conquer, and to have his worth
	Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot
	Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks
	What's in his heart; and that is there which looks
	With us to break his neck.

SICINIUS	Well, here he comes.

	[Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS,
	with Senators and Patricians]

MENENIUS	Calmly, I do beseech you.

CORIOLANUS	Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece
	Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods
	Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice
	Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's!
	Throng our large temples with the shows of peace,
	And not our streets with war!

First Senator	Amen, amen.

MENENIUS	A noble wish.

	[Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens]

SICINIUS	Draw near, ye people.

AEdile	List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say!

CORIOLANUS	First, hear me speak.

Both Tribunes	Well, say. Peace, ho!

CORIOLANUS	Shall I be charged no further than this present?
	Must all determine here?

SICINIUS	I do demand,
	If you submit you to the people's voices,
	Allow their officers and are content
	To suffer lawful censure for such faults
	As shall be proved upon you?

CORIOLANUS	I am content.

MENENIUS	Lo, citizens, he says he is content:
	The warlike service he has done, consider; think
	Upon the wounds his body bears, which show
	Like graves i' the holy churchyard.

CORIOLANUS	Scratches with briers,
	Scars to move laughter only.

MENENIUS	Consider further,
	That when he speaks not like a citizen,
	You find him like a soldier: do not take
	His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
	But, as I say, such as become a soldier,
	Rather than envy you.

COMINIUS	Well, well, no more.

CORIOLANUS	What is the matter
	That being pass'd for consul with full voice,
	I am so dishonour'd that the very hour
	You take it off again?

SICINIUS	Answer to us.

CORIOLANUS	Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so.

SICINIUS	We charge you, that you have contrived to take
	From Rome all season'd office and to wind
	Yourself into a power tyrannical;
	For which you are a traitor to the people.

CORIOLANUS	How! traitor!

MENENIUS	                  Nay, temperately; your promise.

CORIOLANUS	The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people!
	Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune!
	Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
	In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in
	Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
	'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free
	As I do pray the gods.

SICINIUS	Mark you this, people?

Citizens	To the rock, to the rock with him!

SICINIUS	Peace!
	We need not put new matter to his charge:
	What you have seen him do and heard him speak,
	Beating your officers, cursing yourselves,
	Opposing laws with strokes and here defying
	Those whose great power must try him; even this,
	So criminal and in such capital kind,
	Deserves the extremest death.

BRUTUS	But since he hath
	Served well for Rome,--

CORIOLANUS	What do you prate of service?

BRUTUS	I talk of that, that know it.

CORIOLANUS	You?

MENENIUS	Is this the promise that you made your mother?

COMINIUS	Know, I pray you,--

CORIOLANUS	I know no further:
	Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death,
	Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger
	But with a grain a day, I would not buy
	Their mercy at the price of one fair word;
	Nor cheque my courage for what they can give,
	To have't with saying 'Good morrow.'

SICINIUS	For that he has,
	As much as in him lies, from time to time
	Envied against the people, seeking means
	To pluck away their power, as now at last
	Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence
	Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers
	That do distribute it; in the name o' the people
	And in the power of us the tribunes, we,
	Even from this instant, banish him our city,
	In peril of precipitation
	From off the rock Tarpeian never more
	To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name,
	I say it shall be so.

Citizens	It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away:
	He's banish'd, and it shall be so.

COMINIUS	Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,--

SICINIUS	He's sentenced; no more hearing.

COMINIUS	Let me speak:
	I have been consul, and can show for Rome
	Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love
	My country's good with a respect more tender,
	More holy and profound, than mine own life,
	My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase,
	And treasure of my loins; then if I would
	Speak that,--

SICINIUS	                  We know your drift: speak what?

BRUTUS	There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd,
	As enemy to the people and his country:
	It shall be so.

Citizens	It shall be so, it shall be so.

CORIOLANUS	You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
	As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
	As the dead carcasses of unburied men
	That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
	And here remain with your uncertainty!
	Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
	Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
	Fan you into despair! Have the power still
	To banish your defenders; till at length
	Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,
	Making not reservation of yourselves,
	Still your own foes, deliver you as most
	Abated captives to some nation
	That won you without blows! Despising,
	For you, the city, thus I turn my back:
	There is a world elsewhere.

	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators,
	and Patricians]

AEdile	The people's enemy is gone, is gone!

Citizens	Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo!

	[Shouting, and throwing up their caps]

SICINIUS	Go, see him out at gates, and follow him,
	As he hath followed you, with all despite;
	Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard
	Attend us through the city.

Citizens	Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come.
	The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE I	Rome. Before a gate of the city.


	[Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS,
	COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome]

CORIOLANUS	Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast
	With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother,
	Where is your ancient courage? you were used
	To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
	That common chances common men could bear;
	That when the sea was calm all boats alike
	Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows,
	When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves
	A noble cunning: you were used to load me
	With precepts that would make invincible
	The heart that conn'd them.

VIRGILIA	O heavens! O heavens!

CORIOLANUS	Nay! prithee, woman,--

VOLUMNIA	Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome,
	And occupations perish!

CORIOLANUS	What, what, what!
	I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother.
	Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say,
	If you had been the wife of Hercules,
	Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved
	Your husband so much sweat. Cominius,
	Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother:
	I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius,
	Thy tears are salter than a younger man's,
	And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general,
	I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld
	Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women
	'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes,
	As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well
	My hazards still have been your solace: and
	Believe't not lightly--though I go alone,
	Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen
	Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son
	Will or exceed the common or be caught
	With cautelous baits and practise.

VOLUMNIA	My first son.
	Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius
	With thee awhile: determine on some course,
	More than a wild exposture to each chance
	That starts i' the way before thee.

CORIOLANUS	O the gods!

COMINIUS	I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee
	Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us
	And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth
	A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send
	O'er the vast world to seek a single man,
	And lose advantage, which doth ever cool
	I' the absence of the needer.

CORIOLANUS	Fare ye well:
	Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
	Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one
	That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.
	Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and
	My friends of noble touch, when I am forth,
	Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come.
	While I remain above the ground, you shall
	Hear from me still, and never of me aught
	But what is like me formerly.

MENENIUS	That's worthily
	As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep.
	If I could shake off but one seven years
	From these old arms and legs, by the good gods,
	I'ld with thee every foot.

CORIOLANUS	Give me thy hand: Come.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE II	The same. A  street near the gate.


	[Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile]

SICINIUS	Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further.
	The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided
	In his behalf.

BRUTUS	                  Now we have shown our power,
	Let us seem humbler after it is done
	Than when it was a-doing.

SICINIUS	Bid them home:
	Say their great enemy is gone, and they
	Stand in their ancient strength.

BRUTUS	Dismiss them home.

	[Exit AEdile]

	Here comes his mother.

SICINIUS	Let's not meet her.

BRUTUS	Why?

SICINIUS	They say she's mad.

BRUTUS	They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way.

	[Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS]

VOLUMNIA	O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods
	Requite your love!

MENENIUS	                  Peace, peace; be not so loud.

VOLUMNIA	If that I could for weeping, you should hear,--
	Nay, and you shall hear some.

	[To BRUTUS]

		        Will you be gone?

VIRGILIA	[To SICINIUS]  You shall stay too: I would I had the power
	To say so to my husband.

SICINIUS	Are you mankind?

VOLUMNIA	Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool.
	Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship
	To banish him that struck more blows for Rome
	Than thou hast spoken words?

SICINIUS	O blessed heavens!

VOLUMNIA	More noble blows than ever thou wise words;
	And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go:
	Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son
	Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him,
	His good sword in his hand.

SICINIUS	What then?

VIRGILIA	What then!
	He'ld make an end of thy posterity.

VOLUMNIA	Bastards and all.
	Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome!

MENENIUS	Come, come, peace.

SICINIUS	I would he had continued to his country
	As he began, and not unknit himself
	The noble knot he made.

BRUTUS	I would he had.

VOLUMNIA	'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble:
	Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth
	As I can of those mysteries which heaven
	Will not have earth to know.

BRUTUS	Pray, let us go.

VOLUMNIA	Now, pray, sir, get you gone:
	You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:--
	As far as doth the Capitol exceed
	The meanest house in Rome, so far my son--
	This lady's husband here, this, do you see--
	Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all.

BRUTUS	Well, well, we'll leave you.

SICINIUS	Why stay we to be baited
	With one that wants her wits?

VOLUMNIA	Take my prayers with you.

	[Exeunt Tribunes]

	I would the gods had nothing else to do
	But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em
	But once a-day, it would unclog my heart
	Of what lies heavy to't.

MENENIUS	You have told them home;
	And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me?

VOLUMNIA	Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself,
	And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go:
	Leave this faint puling and lament as I do,
	In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come.

MENENIUS	Fie, fie, fie!

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE III	A highway between Rome and Antium.


	[Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting]

Roman	I know you well, sir, and you know
	me: your name, I think, is Adrian.

Volsce	It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you.

Roman	I am a Roman; and my services are,
	as you are, against 'em: know you me yet?

Volsce	Nicanor? no.

Roman	The same, sir.

Volsce	You had more beard when I last saw you; but your
	favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the
	news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state,
	to find you out there: you have well saved me a
	day's journey.

Roman	There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the
	people against the senators, patricians, and nobles.

Volsce	Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not
	so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and
	hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.

Roman	The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing
	would make it flame again: for the nobles receive
	so to heart the banishment of that worthy
	Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take
	all power from the people and to pluck from them
	their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can
	tell you, and is almost mature for the violent
	breaking out.

Volsce	Coriolanus banished!

Roman	Banished, sir.

Volsce	You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor.

Roman	The day serves well for them now. I have heard it
	said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is
	when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble
	Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his
	great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request
	of his country.

Volsce	He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus
	accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my
	business, and I will merrily accompany you home.

Roman	I shall, between this and supper, tell you most
	strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of
	their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you?

Volsce	A most royal one; the centurions and their charges,
	distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment,
	and to be on foot at an hour's warning.

Roman	I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the
	man, I think, that shall set them in present action.
	So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company.

Volsce	You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause
	to be glad of yours.

Roman	Well, let us go together.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE IV	Antium. Before Aufidius's house.


	[Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised
	and muffled]

CORIOLANUS	A goodly city is this Antium. City,
	'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir
	Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars
	Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not,
	Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones
	In puny battle slay me.

	[Enter a Citizen]

		  Save you, sir.

Citizen	And you.

CORIOLANUS	       Direct me, if it be your will,
	Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium?

Citizen	He is, and feasts the nobles of the state
	At his house this night.

CORIOLANUS	Which is his house, beseech you?

Citizen	This, here before you.

CORIOLANUS	Thank you, sir: farewell.

	[Exit Citizen]

	O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn,
	Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart,
	Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise,
	Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love
	Unseparable, shall within this hour,
	On a dissension of a doit, break out
	To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes,
	Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
	To take the one the other, by some chance,
	Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends
	And interjoin their issues. So with me:
	My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon
	This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me,
	He does fair justice; if he give me way,
	I'll do his country service.

	[Exit]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE V	The same. A hall in Aufidius's house.


	[Music within. Enter a Servingman]

First Servingman	Wine, wine, wine! What service
	is here! I think our fellows are asleep.

	[Exit]

	[Enter a second Servingman]

Second Servingman	Where's Cotus? my master calls
	for him. Cotus!

	[Exit]

	[Enter CORIOLANUS]

CORIOLANUS	A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I
	Appear not like a guest.

	[Re-enter the first Servingman]

First Servingman	What would you have, friend? whence are you?
	Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door.

	[Exit]

CORIOLANUS	I have deserved no better entertainment,
	In being Coriolanus.

	[Re-enter second Servingman]

Second Servingman	Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his
	head; that he gives entrance to such companions?
	Pray, get you out.

CORIOLANUS	Away!

Second Servingman	Away! get you away.

CORIOLANUS	Now thou'rt troublesome.

Second Servingman	Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon.

	[Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him]

Third Servingman	What fellow's this?

First Servingman	A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him
	out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.

	[Retires]

Third Servingman	What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid
	the house.

CORIOLANUS	Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth.

Third Servingman	What are you?

CORIOLANUS	A gentleman.

Third Servingman	A marvellous poor one.

CORIOLANUS	True, so I am.

Third Servingman	Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other
	station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come.

CORIOLANUS	Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits.

	[Pushes him away]

Third Servingman	What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a
	strange guest he has here.

Second Servingman	And I shall.

	[Exit]

Third Servingman	Where dwellest thou?

CORIOLANUS	Under the canopy.

Third Servingman	Under the canopy!

CORIOLANUS	Ay.

Third Servingman	Where's that?

CORIOLANUS	I' the city of kites and crows.

Third Servingman	I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is!
	Then thou dwellest with daws too?

CORIOLANUS	No, I serve not thy master.

Third Servingman	How, sir! do you meddle with my master?

CORIOLANUS	Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy
	mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy
	trencher, hence!

	[Beats him away. Exit third Servingman]

	[Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman]

AUFIDIUS	Where is this fellow?

Second Servingman	Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for
	disturbing the lords within.

	[Retires]

AUFIDIUS	Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name?
	Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name?

CORIOLANUS	If, Tullus,

	[Unmuffling]

	Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not
	Think me for the man I am, necessity
	Commands me name myself.

AUFIDIUS	What is thy name?

CORIOLANUS	A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears,
	And harsh in sound to thine.

AUFIDIUS	Say, what's thy name?
	Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face
	Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn.
	Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name?

CORIOLANUS	Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st
	thou me yet?

AUFIDIUS	I know thee not: thy name?

CORIOLANUS	My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done
	To thee particularly and to all the Volsces
	Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may
	My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service,
	The extreme dangers and the drops of blood
	Shed for my thankless country are requited
	But with that surname; a good memory,
	And witness of the malice and displeasure
	Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains;
	The cruelty and envy of the people,
	Permitted by our dastard nobles, who
	Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest;
	And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be
	Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity
	Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope--
	Mistake me not--to save my life, for if
	I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world
	I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite,
	To be full quit of those my banishers,
	Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast
	A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge
	Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims
	Of shame seen through thy country, speed
	thee straight,
	And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it
	That my revengeful services may prove
	As benefits to thee, for I will fight
	Against my canker'd country with the spleen
	Of all the under fiends. But if so be
	Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes
	Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am
	Longer to live most weary, and present
	My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice;
	Which not to cut would show thee but a fool,
	Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate,
	Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast,
	And cannot live but to thy shame, unless
	It be to do thee service.

AUFIDIUS	O Marcius, Marcius!
	Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart
	A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter
	Should from yond cloud speak divine things,
	And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more
	Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine
	Mine arms about that body, where against
	My grained ash an hundred times hath broke
	And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip
	The anvil of my sword, and do contest
	As hotly and as nobly with thy love
	As ever in ambitious strength I did
	Contend against thy valour. Know thou first,
	I loved the maid I married; never man
	Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here,
	Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart
	Than when I first my wedded mistress saw
	Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee,
	We have a power on foot; and I had purpose
	Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn,
	Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out
	Twelve several times, and I have nightly since
	Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me;
	We have been down together in my sleep,
	Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat,
	And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius,
	Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that
	Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all
	From twelve to seventy, and pouring war
	Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome,
	Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in,
	And take our friendly senators by the hands;
	Who now are here, taking their leaves of me,
	Who am prepared against your territories,
	Though not for Rome itself.

CORIOLANUS	You bless me, gods!

AUFIDIUS	Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have
	The leading of thine own revenges, take
	The one half of my commission; and set down--
	As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st
	Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways;
	Whether to knock against the gates of Rome,
	Or rudely visit them in parts remote,
	To fright them, ere destroy. But come in:
	Let me commend thee first to those that shall
	Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes!
	And more a friend than e'er an enemy;
	Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome!

	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two
	Servingmen come forward]

First Servingman	Here's a strange alteration!

Second Servingman	By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with
	a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a
	false report of him.

First Servingman	What an arm he has! he turned me about with his
	finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top.

Second Servingman	Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in
	him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I
	cannot tell how to term it.

First Servingman	He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged,
	but I thought there was more in him than I could think.

Second Servingman	So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest
	man i' the world.

First Servingman	I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on.

Second Servingman	Who, my master?

First Servingman	Nay, it's no matter for that.

Second Servingman	Worth six on him.

First Servingman	Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the
	greater soldier.

Second Servingman	Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that:
	for the defence of a town, our general is excellent.

First Servingman	Ay, and for an assault too.

	[Re-enter third Servingman]

Third Servingman	O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!


First Servingman	|
	|  What, what, what? let's partake.
Second Servingman	|


Third Servingman	I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as
	lieve be a condemned man.


First Servingman	|
	|  Wherefore? wherefore?
Second Servingman	|


Third Servingman	Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general,
	Caius Marcius.

First Servingman	Why do you say 'thwack our general '?

Third Servingman	I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always
	good enough for him.

Second Servingman	Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too
	hard for him; I have heard him say so himself.

First Servingman	He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth
	on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched
	him like a carbon ado.

Second Servingman	An he had been cannibally given, he might have
	broiled and eaten him too.

First Servingman	But, more of thy news?

Third Servingman	Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son
	and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no
	question asked him by any of the senators, but they
	stand bald before him: our general himself makes a
	mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and
	turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But
	the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i'
	the middle and but one half of what he was
	yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty
	and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says,
	and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he
	will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled.

Second Servingman	And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine.

Third Servingman	Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as
	many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it
	were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as
	we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude.

First Servingman	Directitude! what's that?

Third Servingman	But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again,
	and the man in blood, they will out of their
	burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with
	him.

First Servingman	But when goes this forward?

Third Servingman	To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the
	drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a
	parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they
	wipe their lips.

Second Servingman	Why, then we shall have a stirring world again.
	This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase
	tailors, and breed ballad-makers.

First Servingman	Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as
	day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and
	full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy;
	mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more
	bastard children than war's a destroyer of men.

Second Servingman	'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to
	be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a
	great maker of cuckolds.

First Servingman	Ay, and it makes men hate one another.

Third Servingman	Reason; because they then less need one another.
	The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap
	as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising.

All	In, in, in, in!

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE VI	Rome. A public place.


	[Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS]

SICINIUS	We hear not of him, neither need we fear him;
	His remedies are tame i' the present peace
	And quietness of the people, which before
	Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends
	Blush that the world goes well, who rather had,
	Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
	Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see
	Our tradesmen with in their shops and going
	About their functions friendly.

BRUTUS	We stood to't in good time.

	[Enter MENENIUS]

		      Is this Menenius?

SICINIUS	'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late.

Both Tribunes	Hail sir!

MENENIUS	        Hail to you both!

SICINIUS	Your Coriolanus
	Is not much miss'd, but with his friends:
	The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do,
	Were he more angry at it.

MENENIUS	All's well; and might have been much better, if
	He could have temporized.

SICINIUS	Where is he, hear you?

MENENIUS	Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife
	Hear nothing from him.

	[Enter three or four Citizens]

Citizens	The gods preserve you both!

SICINIUS	God-den, our neighbours.

BRUTUS	God-den to you all, god-den to you all.

First Citizen	Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees,
	Are bound to pray for you both.

SICINIUS	Live, and thrive!

BRUTUS	Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus
	Had loved you as we did.

Citizens	Now the gods keep you!

Both Tribunes	Farewell, farewell.

	[Exeunt Citizens]

SICINIUS	This is a happier and more comely time
	Than when these fellows ran about the streets,
	Crying confusion.

BRUTUS	                  Caius Marcius was
	A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent,
	O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking,
	Self-loving,--

SICINIUS	                  And affecting one sole throne,
	Without assistance.

MENENIUS	I think not so.

SICINIUS	We should by this, to all our lamentation,
	If he had gone forth consul, found it so.

BRUTUS	The gods have well prevented it, and Rome
	Sits safe and still without him.

	[Enter an AEdile]

AEdile	Worthy tribunes,
	There is a slave, whom we have put in prison,
	Reports, the Volsces with two several powers
	Are enter'd in the Roman territories,
	And with the deepest malice of the war
	Destroy what lies before 'em.

MENENIUS	'Tis Aufidius,
	Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment,
	Thrusts forth his horns again into the world;
	Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome,
	And durst not once peep out.

SICINIUS	Come, what talk you
	Of Marcius?

BRUTUS	Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be
	The Volsces dare break with us.

MENENIUS	Cannot be!
	We have record that very well it can,
	And three examples of the like have been
	Within my age. But reason with the fellow,
	Before you punish him, where he heard this,
	Lest you shall chance to whip your information
	And beat the messenger who bids beware
	Of what is to be dreaded.

SICINIUS	Tell not me:
	I know this cannot be.

BRUTUS	Not possible.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	The nobles in great earnestness are going
	All to the senate-house: some news is come
	That turns their countenances.

SICINIUS	'Tis this slave;--
	Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising;
	Nothing but his report.

Messenger	Yes, worthy sir,
	The slave's report is seconded; and more,
	More fearful, is deliver'd.

SICINIUS	What more fearful?

Messenger	It is spoke freely out of many mouths--
	How probable I do not know--that Marcius,
	Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome,
	And vows revenge as spacious as between
	The young'st and oldest thing.

SICINIUS	This is most likely!

BRUTUS	Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish
	Good Marcius home again.

SICINIUS	The very trick on't.

MENENIUS	This is unlikely:
	He and Aufidius can no more atone
	Than violentest contrariety.

	[Enter a second Messenger]

Second Messenger	You are sent for to the senate:
	A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius
	Associated with Aufidius, rages
	Upon our territories; and have already
	O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took
	What lay before them.

	[Enter COMINIUS]

COMINIUS	O, you have made good work!

MENENIUS	What news? what news?

COMINIUS	You have holp to ravish your own daughters and
	To melt the city leads upon your pates,
	To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,--

MENENIUS	What's the news? what's the news?

COMINIUS	Your temples burned in their cement, and
	Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined
	Into an auger's bore.

MENENIUS	Pray now, your news?
	You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?--
	If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,--

COMINIUS	If!
	He is their god: he leads them like a thing
	Made by some other deity than nature,
	That shapes man better; and they follow him,
	Against us brats, with no less confidence
	Than boys pursuing summer butterflies,
	Or butchers killing flies.

MENENIUS	You have made good work,
	You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much
	on the voice of occupation and
	The breath of garlic-eaters!

COMINIUS	He will shake
	Your Rome about your ears.

MENENIUS	As Hercules
	Did shake down mellow fruit.
	You have made fair work!

BRUTUS	But is this true, sir?

COMINIUS	Ay; and you'll look pale
	Before you find it other. All the regions
	Do smilingly revolt; and who resist
	Are mock'd for valiant ignorance,
	And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him?
	Your enemies and his find something in him.

MENENIUS	We are all undone, unless
	The noble man have mercy.

COMINIUS	Who shall ask it?
	The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people
	Deserve such pity of him as the wolf
	Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they
	Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even
	As those should do that had deserved his hate,
	And therein show'd like enemies.

MENENIUS	'Tis true:
	If he were putting to my house the brand
	That should consume it, I have not the face
	To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands,
	You and your crafts! you have crafted fair!

COMINIUS	You have brought
	A trembling upon Rome, such as was never
	So incapable of help.

Both Tribunes	Say not we brought it.

MENENIUS	How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts
	And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters,
	Who did hoot him out o' the city.

COMINIUS	But I fear
	They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius,
	The second name of men, obeys his points
	As if he were his officer: desperation
	Is all the policy, strength and defence,
	That Rome can make against them.

	[Enter a troop of Citizens]

MENENIUS	Here come the clusters.
	And is Aufidius with him? You are they
	That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
	Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at
	Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming;
	And not a hair upon a soldier's head
	Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs
	As you threw caps up will he tumble down,
	And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter;
	if he could burn us all into one coal,
	We have deserved it.

Citizens	Faith, we hear fearful news.

First Citizen	For mine own part,
	When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity.

Second Citizen	And so did I.

Third Citizen	And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very
	many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and
	though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet
	it was against our will.

COMINIUS	Ye re goodly things, you voices!

MENENIUS	You have made
	Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol?

COMINIUS	O, ay, what else?

	[Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS]

SICINIUS	Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd:
	These are a side that would be glad to have
	This true which they so seem to fear. Go home,
	And show no sign of fear.

First Citizen	The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home.
	I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished
	him.

Second Citizen	So did we all. But, come, let's home.

	[Exeunt Citizens]

BRUTUS	I do not like this news.

SICINIUS	Nor I.

BRUTUS	Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth
	Would buy this for a lie!

SICINIUS	Pray, let us go.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT IV



SCENE VII	A camp, at a small distance from Rome.


	[Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant]

AUFIDIUS	Do they still fly to the Roman?

Lieutenant	I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but
	Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat,
	Their talk at table, and their thanks at end;
	And you are darken'd in this action, sir,
	Even by your own.

AUFIDIUS	                  I cannot help it now,
	Unless, by using means, I lame the foot
	Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier,
	Even to my person, than I thought he would
	When first I did embrace him: yet his nature
	In that's no changeling; and I must excuse
	What cannot be amended.

Lieutenant	Yet I wish, sir,--
	I mean for your particular,--you had not
	Join'd in commission with him; but either
	Had borne the action of yourself, or else
	To him had left it solely.

AUFIDIUS	I understand thee well; and be thou sure,
	when he shall come to his account, he knows not
	What I can urge against him. Although it seems,
	And so he thinks, and is no less apparent
	To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly.
	And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state,
	Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon
	As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone
	That which shall break his neck or hazard mine,
	Whene'er we come to our account.

Lieutenant	Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome?

AUFIDIUS	All places yield to him ere he sits down;
	And the nobility of Rome are his:
	The senators and patricians love him too:
	The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people
	Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty
	To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome
	As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it
	By sovereignty of nature. First he was
	A noble servant to them; but he could not
	Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride,
	Which out of daily fortune ever taints
	The happy man; whether defect of judgment,
	To fail in the disposing of those chances
	Which he was lord of; or whether nature,
	Not to be other than one thing, not moving
	From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace
	Even with the same austerity and garb
	As he controll'd the war; but one of these--
	As he hath spices of them all, not all,
	For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd,
	So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit,
	To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues
	Lie in the interpretation of the time:
	And power, unto itself most commendable,
	Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair
	To extol what it hath done.
	One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail;
	Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.
	Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine,
	Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE I	Rome. A public place.


	[Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS,
	and others]

MENENIUS	No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said
	Which was sometime his general; who loved him
	In a most dear particular. He call'd me father:
	But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him;
	A mile before his tent fall down, and knee
	The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd
	To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home.

COMINIUS	He would not seem to know me.

MENENIUS	Do you hear?

COMINIUS	Yet one time he did call me by my name:
	I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops
	That we have bled together. Coriolanus
	He would not answer to: forbad all names;
	He was a kind of nothing, titleless,
	Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire
	Of burning Rome.

MENENIUS	Why, so: you have made good work!
	A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome,
	To make coals cheap,--a noble memory!

COMINIUS	I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon
	When it was less expected: he replied,
	It was a bare petition of a state
	To one whom they had punish'd.

MENENIUS	Very well:
	Could he say less?

COMINIUS	I offer'd to awaken his regard
	For's private friends: his answer to me was,
	He could not stay to pick them in a pile
	Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly,
	For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt,
	And still to nose the offence.

MENENIUS	For one poor grain or two!
	I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child,
	And this brave fellow too, we are the grains:
	You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt
	Above the moon: we must be burnt for you.

SICINIUS	Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid
	In this so never-needed help, yet do not
	Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you
	Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue,
	More than the instant army we can make,
	Might stop our countryman.

MENENIUS	No, I'll not meddle.

SICINIUS	Pray you, go to him.

MENENIUS	What should I do?

BRUTUS	Only make trial what your love can do
	For Rome, towards Marcius.

MENENIUS	Well, and say that Marcius
	Return me, as Cominius is return'd,
	Unheard; what then?
	But as a discontented friend, grief-shot
	With his unkindness? say't be so?

SICINIUS	Yet your good will
	must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure
	As you intended well.

MENENIUS	I'll undertake 't:
	I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip
	And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me.
	He was not taken well; he had not dined:
	The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then
	We pout upon the morning, are unapt
	To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd
	These and these conveyances of our blood
	With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls
	Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him
	Till he be dieted to my request,
	And then I'll set upon him.

BRUTUS	You know the very road into his kindness,
	And cannot lose your way.

MENENIUS	Good faith, I'll prove him,
	Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge
	Of my success.

	[Exit]

COMINIUS	                  He'll never hear him.

SICINIUS	Not?

COMINIUS	I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye
	Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury
	The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him;
	'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me
	Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do,
	He sent in writing after me; what he would not,
	Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions:
	So that all hope is vain.
	Unless his noble mother, and his wife;
	Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him
	For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence,
	And with our fair entreaties haste them on.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE II	Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome.
	Two Sentinels on guard.


	[Enter to them, MENENIUS]

First Senator	Stay: whence are you?

Second Senator	Stand, and go back.

MENENIUS	You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave,
	I am an officer of state, and come
	To speak with Coriolanus.

First Senator	From whence?

MENENIUS	From Rome.

First Senator	You may not pass, you must return: our general
	Will no more hear from thence.

Second Senator	You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before
	You'll speak with Coriolanus.

MENENIUS	Good my friends,
	If you have heard your general talk of Rome,
	And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks,
	My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius.

First Senator	Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name
	Is not here passable.

MENENIUS	I tell thee, fellow,
	The general is my lover: I have been
	The book of his good acts, whence men have read
	His name unparallel'd, haply amplified;
	For I have ever verified my friends,
	Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity
	Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes,
	Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground,
	I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise
	Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow,
	I must have leave to pass.

First Senator	Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his
	behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you
	should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous
	to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back.

MENENIUS	Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius,
	always factionary on the party of your general.

Second Senator	Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you
	have, I am one that, telling true under him, must
	say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back.

MENENIUS	Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not
	speak with him till after dinner.

First Senator	You are a Roman, are you?

MENENIUS	I am, as thy general is.

First Senator	Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you,
	when you have pushed out your gates the very
	defender of them, and, in a violent popular
	ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to
	front his revenges with the easy groans of old
	women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with
	the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as
	you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the
	intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with
	such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived;
	therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your
	execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn
	you out of reprieve and pardon.

MENENIUS	Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would
	use me with estimation.

Second Senator	Come, my captain knows you not.

MENENIUS	I mean, thy general.

First Senator	My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest
	I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's
	the utmost of your having: back.

MENENIUS	Nay, but, fellow, fellow,--

	[Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS]

CORIOLANUS	What's the matter?

MENENIUS	Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you:
	You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall
	perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from
	my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment
	with him, if thou standest not i' the state of
	hanging, or of some death more long in
	spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now
	presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee.

	[To CORIOLANUS]

	The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy
	particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than
	thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son!
	thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's
	water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to
	thee; but being assured none but myself could move
	thee, I have been blown out of your gates with
	sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy
	petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy
	wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet
	here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my
	access to thee.

CORIOLANUS	Away!

MENENIUS	How! away!

CORIOLANUS	Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs
	Are servanted to others: though I owe
	My revenge properly, my remission lies
	In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar,
	Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather
	Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone.
	Mine ears against your suits are stronger than
	Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee,
	Take this along; I writ it for thy sake

	[Gives a letter]

	And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius,
	I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius,
	Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st!

AUFIDIUS	You keep a constant temper.

	[Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS]

First Senator	Now, sir, is your name Menenius?

Second Senator	'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the
	way home again.

First Senator	Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your
	greatness back?

Second Senator	What cause, do you think, I have to swoon?

MENENIUS	I neither care for the world nor your general: for
	such things as you, I can scarce think there's any,
	ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by
	himself fears it not from another: let your general
	do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and
	your misery increase with your age! I say to you,
	as I was said to, Away!

	[Exit]

First Senator	A noble fellow, I warrant him.

Second Senator	The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the
	oak not to be wind-shaken.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE III	The tent of Coriolanus.


	[Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others]

CORIOLANUS	We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow
	Set down our host. My partner in this action,
	You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly
	I have borne this business.

AUFIDIUS	Only their ends
	You have respected; stopp'd your ears against
	The general suit of Rome; never admitted
	A private whisper, no, not with such friends
	That thought them sure of you.

CORIOLANUS	This last old man,
	Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome,
	Loved me above the measure of a father;
	Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge
	Was to send him; for whose old love I have,
	Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd
	The first conditions, which they did refuse
	And cannot now accept; to grace him only
	That thought he could do more, a very little
	I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits,
	Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter
	Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this?

	[Shout within]

	Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow
	In the same time 'tis made? I will not.

	[Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA,
	leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants]

	My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould
	Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand
	The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection!
	All bond and privilege of nature, break!
	Let it be virtuous to be obstinate.
	What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes,
	Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not
	Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows;
	As if Olympus to a molehill should
	In supplication nod: and my young boy
	Hath an aspect of intercession, which
	Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces
	Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never
	Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand,
	As if a man were author of himself
	And knew no other kin.

VIRGILIA	My lord and husband!

CORIOLANUS	These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome.

VIRGILIA	The sorrow that delivers us thus changed
	Makes you think so.

CORIOLANUS	Like a dull actor now,
	I have forgot my part, and I am out,
	Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh,
	Forgive my tyranny; but do not say
	For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss
	Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!
	Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss
	I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip
	Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate,
	And the most noble mother of the world
	Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth;

	[Kneels]

	Of thy deep duty more impression show
	Than that of common sons.

VOLUMNIA	O, stand up blest!
	Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint,
	I kneel before thee; and unproperly
	Show duty, as mistaken all this while
	Between the child and parent.

	[Kneels]

CORIOLANUS	What is this?
	Your knees to me? to your corrected son?
	Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
	Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds
	Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun;
	Murdering impossibility, to make
	What cannot be, slight work.

VOLUMNIA	Thou art my warrior;
	I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady?

CORIOLANUS	The noble sister of Publicola,
	The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle
	That's curdied by the frost from purest snow
	And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria!

VOLUMNIA	This is a poor epitome of yours,
	Which by the interpretation of full time
	May show like all yourself.

CORIOLANUS	The god of soldiers,
	With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
	Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove
	To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars
	Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw,
	And saving those that eye thee!

VOLUMNIA	Your knee, sirrah.

CORIOLANUS	That's my brave boy!

VOLUMNIA	Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself,
	Are suitors to you.

CORIOLANUS	I beseech you, peace:
	Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before:
	The thing I have forsworn to grant may never
	Be held by you denials. Do not bid me
	Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate
	Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not
	Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not
	To ally my rages and revenges with
	Your colder reasons.

VOLUMNIA	O, no more, no more!
	You have said you will not grant us any thing;
	For we have nothing else to ask, but that
	Which you deny already: yet we will ask;
	That, if you fail in our request, the blame
	May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us.

CORIOLANUS	Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll
	Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request?

VOLUMNIA	Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment
	And state of bodies would bewray what life
	We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself
	How more unfortunate than all living women
	Are we come hither: since that thy sight,
	which should
	Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance
	with comforts,
	Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;
	Making the mother, wife and child to see
	The son, the husband and the father tearing
	His country's bowels out. And to poor we
	Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
	Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
	That all but we enjoy; for how can we,
	Alas, how can we for our country pray.
	Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,
	Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose
	The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,
	Our comfort in the country. We must find
	An evident calamity, though we had
	Our wish, which side should win: for either thou
	Must, as a foreign recreant, be led
	With manacles thorough our streets, or else
	triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin,
	And bear the palm for having bravely shed
	Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son,
	I purpose not to wait on fortune till
	These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee
	Rather to show a noble grace to both parts
	Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner
	March to assault thy country than to tread--
	Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb,
	That brought thee to this world.

VIRGILIA	Ay, and mine,
	That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
	Living to time.

Young MARCIUS	A' shall not tread on me;
	I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight.

CORIOLANUS	Not of a woman's tenderness to be,
	Requires nor child nor woman's face to see.
	I have sat too long.

	[Rising]

VOLUMNIA	Nay, go not from us thus.
	If it were so that our request did tend
	To save the Romans, thereby to destroy
	The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,
	As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit
	Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces
	May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans,
	'This we received;' and each in either side
	Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest
	For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son,
	The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
	That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
	Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name,
	Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses;
	Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
	But with his last attempt he wiped it out;
	Destroy'd his country, and his name remains
	To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son:
	Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
	To imitate the graces of the gods;
	To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
	And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
	That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
	Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
	Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
	He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
	Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
	Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
	More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate
	Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
	Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,
	When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
	Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home,
	Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
	And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
	Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
	That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
	To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
	Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
	To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
	Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
	This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
	And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's:
	This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
	But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship,
	Does reason our petition with more strength
	Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go:
	This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
	His wife is in Corioli and his child
	Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
	I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
	And then I'll speak a little.

	[He holds her by the hand, silent]

CORIOLANUS	O mother, mother!
	What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope,
	The gods look down, and this unnatural scene
	They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O!
	You have won a happy victory to Rome;
	But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it,
	Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd,
	If not most mortal to him. But, let it come.
	Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars,
	I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius,
	Were you in my stead, would you have heard
	A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius?

AUFIDIUS	I was moved withal.

CORIOLANUS	I dare be sworn you were:
	And, sir, it is no little thing to make
	Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir,
	What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part,
	I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you,
	Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife!

AUFIDIUS	[Aside]  I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and
	thy honour
	At difference in thee: out of that I'll work
	Myself a former fortune.

	[The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS]

CORIOLANUS	Ay, by and by;

	[To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, &c]

	But we will drink together; and you shall bear
	A better witness back than words, which we,
	On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd.
	Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve
	To have a temple built you: all the swords
	In Italy, and her confederate arms,
	Could not have made this peace.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE IV	Rome. A public place.


	[Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS]

MENENIUS	See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond
	corner-stone?

SICINIUS	Why, what of that?

MENENIUS	If it be possible for you to displace it with your
	little finger, there is some hope the ladies of
	Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him.
	But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are
	sentenced and stay upon execution.

SICINIUS	Is't possible that so short a time can alter the
	condition of a man!

MENENIUS	There is differency between a grub and a butterfly;
	yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown
	from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a
	creeping thing.

SICINIUS	He loved his mother dearly.

MENENIUS	So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother
	now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness
	of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he
	moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before
	his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with
	his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a
	battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for
	Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with
	his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity
	and a heaven to throne in.

SICINIUS	Yes, mercy, if you report him truly.

MENENIUS	I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his
	mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy
	in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that
	shall our poor city find: and all this is long of
	you.

SICINIUS	The gods be good unto us!

MENENIUS	No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto
	us. When we banished him, we respected not them;
	and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us.

	[Enter a Messenger]

Messenger	Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house:
	The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune
	And hale him up and down, all swearing, if
	The Roman ladies bring not comfort home,
	They'll give him death by inches.

	[Enter a second Messenger]

SICINIUS	What's the news?

Second Messenger	Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd,
	The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone:
	A merrier day did never yet greet Rome,
	No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins.

SICINIUS	Friend,
	Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain?

Second Messenger	As certain as I know the sun is fire:
	Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it?
	Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide,
	As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you!

	[Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together]

	The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes,
	Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans,
	Make the sun dance. Hark you!

	[A shout within]

MENENIUS	This is good news:
	I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia
	Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians,
	A city full; of tribunes, such as you,
	A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day:
	This morning for ten thousand of your throats
	I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy!

	[Music still, with shouts]

SICINIUS	First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next,
	Accept my thankfulness.

Second Messenger	Sir, we have all
	Great cause to give great thanks.

SICINIUS	They are near the city?

Second Messenger	Almost at point to enter.

SICINIUS	We will meet them,
	And help the joy.

	[Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE V	The same. A street near the gate.


	[Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA,
	VALERIA, &c. passing over the stage,
	followed by Patricians and others]

First Senator	Behold our patroness, the life of Rome!
	Call all your tribes together, praise the gods,
	And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them:
	Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius,
	Repeal him with the welcome of his mother;
	Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!'

All	Welcome, ladies, Welcome!

	[A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt]




	CORIOLANUS


ACT V



SCENE VI	Antium. A public place.


	[Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants]

AUFIDIUS	Go tell the lords o' the city I am here:
	Deliver them this paper: having read it,
	Bid them repair to the market place; where I,
	Even in theirs and in the commons' ears,
	Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse
	The city ports by this hath enter'd and
	Intends to appear before the people, hoping
	To purge herself with words: dispatch.

	[Exeunt Attendants]

	[Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction]

	Most welcome!

First Conspirator	How is it with our general?

AUFIDIUS	Even so
	As with a man by his own alms empoison'd,
	And with his charity slain.

Second Conspirator	Most noble sir,
	If you do hold the same intent wherein
	You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you
	Of your great danger.

AUFIDIUS	Sir, I cannot tell:
	We must proceed as we do find the people.

Third Conspirator	The people will remain uncertain whilst
	'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either
	Makes the survivor heir of all.

AUFIDIUS	I know it;
	And my pretext to strike at him admits
	A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd
	Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd,
	He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery,
	Seducing so my friends; and, to this end,
	He bow'd his nature, never known before
	But to be rough, unswayable and free.

Third Conspirator	Sir, his stoutness
	When he did stand for consul, which he lost
	By lack of stooping,--

AUFIDIUS	That I would have spoke of:
	Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth;
	Presented to my knife his throat: I took him;
	Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way
	In all his own desires; nay, let him choose
	Out of my files, his projects to accomplish,
	My best and freshest men; served his designments
	In mine own person; holp to reap the fame
	Which he did end all his; and took some pride
	To do myself this wrong: till, at the last,
	I seem'd his follower, not partner, and
	He waged me with his countenance, as if
	I had been mercenary.

First Conspirator	So he did, my lord:
	The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last,
	When he had carried Rome and that we look'd
	For no less spoil than glory,--

AUFIDIUS	There was it:
	For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him.
	At a few drops of women's rheum, which are
	As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour
	Of our great action: therefore shall he die,
	And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark!

	[Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of
	the People]

First Conspirator	Your native town you enter'd like a post,
	And had no welcomes home: but he returns,
	Splitting the air with noise.

Second Conspirator	And patient fools,
	Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear
	With giving him glory.

Third Conspirator	Therefore, at your vantage,
	Ere he express himself, or move the people
	With what he would say, let him feel your sword,
	Which we will second. When he lies along,
	After your way his tale pronounced shall bury
	His reasons with his body.

AUFIDIUS	Say no more:
	Here come the lords.

	[Enter the Lords of the city]

All The Lords	You are most welcome home.

AUFIDIUS	I have not deserved it.
	But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused
	What I have written to you?

Lords	We have.

First Lord	And grieve to hear't.
	What faults he made before the last, I think
	Might have found easy fines: but there to end
	Where he was to begin and give away
	The benefit of our levies, answering us
	With our own charge, making a treaty where
	There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse.

AUFIDIUS	He approaches: you shall hear him.

	[Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and
	colours; commoners being with him]

CORIOLANUS	Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier,
	No more infected with my country's love
	Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting
	Under your great command. You are to know
	That prosperously I have attempted and
	With bloody passage led your wars even to
	The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home
	Do more than counterpoise a full third part
	The charges of the action. We have made peace
	With no less honour to the Antiates
	Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver,
	Subscribed by the consuls and patricians,
	Together with the seal o' the senate, what
	We have compounded on.

AUFIDIUS	Read it not, noble lords;
	But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree
	He hath abused your powers.

CORIOLANUS	Traitor! how now!

AUFIDIUS	                  Ay, traitor, Marcius!

CORIOLANUS	Marcius!

AUFIDIUS	Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think
	I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name
	Coriolanus in Corioli?
	You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously
	He has betray'd your business, and given up,
	For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,
	I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother;
	Breaking his oath and resolution like
	A twist of rotten silk, never admitting
	Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears
	He whined and roar'd away your victory,
	That pages blush'd at him and men of heart
	Look'd wondering each at other.

CORIOLANUS	Hear'st thou, Mars?

AUFIDIUS	Name not the god, thou boy of tears!

CORIOLANUS	Ha!

AUFIDIUS	No more.

CORIOLANUS	Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart
	Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave!
	Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever
	I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords,
	Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion--
	Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that
	Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join
	To thrust the lie unto him.

First Lord	Peace, both, and hear me speak.

CORIOLANUS	Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads,
	Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound!
	If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there,
	That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I
	Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli:
	Alone I did it. Boy!

AUFIDIUS	Why, noble lords,
	Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune,
	Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart,
	'Fore your own eyes and ears?

All Conspirators	Let him die for't.

All The People	'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd
	my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin
	Marcus.' 'He killed my father.'

Second Lord	Peace, ho! no outrage: peace!
	The man is noble and his fame folds-in
	This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us
	Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius,
	And trouble not the peace.

CORIOLANUS	O that I had him,
	With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe,
	To use my lawful sword!

AUFIDIUS	Insolent villain!

All Conspirators	Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him!

	[The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS:
	AUFIDIUS stands on his body]

Lords	Hold, hold, hold, hold!

AUFIDIUS	My noble masters, hear me speak.

First Lord	O Tullus,--

Second Lord	Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

Third Lord	Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet;
	Put up your swords.

AUFIDIUS	My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage,
	Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger
	Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice
	That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours
	To call me to your senate, I'll deliver
	Myself your loyal servant, or endure
	Your heaviest censure.

First Lord	Bear from hence his body;
	And mourn you for him: let him be regarded
	As the most noble corse that ever herald
	Did follow to his urn.

Second Lord	His own impatience
	Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame.
	Let's make the best of it.

AUFIDIUS	My rage is gone;
	And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up.
	Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one.
	Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully:
	Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he
	Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one,
	Which to this hour bewail the injury,
	Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist.

	[Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead
	march sounded]




	GLOSSARY


ABATE	to shorten
	To cast down
	To blunt
ABATEMENT	diminution
ABHOR	protest; disgust
ABIDE	to sojourn
	to expiate
ABLE	to uphold
ABRIDGEMENT	a short play
ABROAD	away, apart
ABROOK	to brook, abide
ABSEY-BOOK	a primer
ABSOLUTE	positive, certain
	Complete
ABUSE	to deceive
ABUSE	deception
ABY	to expiate a fault
ABYSM	abyss
ACCITE	to cite, summon
ACCUSE	accusation
ACHIEVE	to obtain
ACKNOWN	'to be acknown' is to acknowledge
ACQUITTANCE	a receipt or discharge
ACTION-TAKING	litigious
ACTURE	action
ADDITION	title, attribute
ADDRESS	to prepare oneself
ADDRESSED	prepared
ADVANCE	to prefer, promote to honour
ADVERTISEMENT	admonition
ADVERTISING	attentive
ADVICE	consideration, discretion
ADVISE	sometimes neuter, sometimes reflective, to
	consider, reflect
ADVISED	considerate
ADVOCATION	pleading, advocacy
AFEARED	afraid
AFFECT	to love
AFFY	to affiance
	To trust
AFRONT	in front
AGAZED	looking in amazement
AGLET-BABY	the small figure engraved on a jewel
AGNISE	to acknowledge, confess
A-GOOD	a good deal, plenteously
A-HOLD	a sea-term
AIERIE	the nest of a bird of prey
AIM	a guess
ALDER-LIEFEST	most loved of all
ALE	alehouse
ALLOW	to approve
ALLOWANCE	approval
AMES-ACE	two aces, the lowest throw of the dice
AMORT	dead, dejected
AN	if
ANCHOR	an anchorite, hermit
ANCIENT	an ensign-bearer
ANGEL	a coin, so called because it bore the image of
	an angel
ANIGHT	by night
ANSWER	retaliation
ANTHROPOPHAGINIAN	a cannibal
ANTICK	the fool in the old plays
ANTRE	a cave
APPARENT	heir-apparent
APPEAL	accusation
APPEAL	to accuse
APPEARED	made apparent
APPLE-JOHN	a kind of apple
APPOINTMENT	preparation
APPREHENSION	opinion
APPREHENSIVE	apt to apprehend or understand
APPROBATION	probation
APPROOF	approbation, proof
APPROVE	to prove
	To justify, make good
APPROVER	one who proves or tries
ARCH	chief
ARGAL	a ridiculous word intended for the Latin ergo
ARGENTINE	silver
ARGIER	Algiers
ARGOSY	originally a vessel of Ragusa or Ragosa, a
	Ragosine; hence any ship of burden
ARGUMENT	subject
ARMIGERO	a mistake for Armiger, the Latin for Esquire
AROINT	found only in the imperative mood, get thee
	gone
A-ROW	in a row
ARTICULATE	to enter into articles of agreement
	to exhibit in articles
ASK	to require
ASPECT	regard, looks
ASPERSION	sprinkling; hence blessing, because before the
	Reformation benediction was generally accompanied
	by the sprinkling of holy water
ASSAY	attempt
ASSAY	to attempt, test, make proof of
ASSINEGO	an ass
ASSUBJUGATE	to subjugate
ASSURANCE	deed of assurance
ASSURED	betrothed
ATOMY	an atom
	Used in contempt of a small person
ATONE	to put people at one, to reconcile
	to agree
ATTACH	to seize, lay hold on
ATTASKED	taken to task, reprehended
ATTEND	to listen to
ATTENT	attentive
ATTORNEY	an agent
ATTORNEY	to employ as an agent
	To perform by an agent
AUDACIOUS	spirited, daring, but without any note of blame
	attached to it
AUGUR	augury
AUTHENTIC	clothed with authority
AVAUNT	int. be gone, a word of abhorrence
AVE	the Latin for hail; hence acclamation
AVE-MARY	the angelic salutation addressed to the Blessed
	Virgin Mary
AVERRING	confirming
AVOID	get rid of
AWFUL	worshipful
AWKWARD	contrary


BACCARE	keep back
BACKWARD	the hinder part; hence, when applied to time,
	the past
BAFFLE	embarrass
BALKED	heaped, as on a ridge
BALLOW	a cudgel
BALM	the oil of consecration
BAN	to curse
BANK	to sail by the banks
BARM	yeast
BARN	a child
BARNACLE	a shellfish, supposed to produce the sea-bird
	of the same name
BASE	a game, sometimes called Prisoners' base
BASES	an embroidered mantle worn by knights on
	horseback, and reaching from the middle to
	below the knees
BASILISK	a kind of ordnance
BASTA	enough
BASTARD	raisin wine
BATE	to flutter, as a hawk
BATE	to except
	To abate
BAT-FOWLING	catching birds with a clap-net by night
BATLET	a small bat, used for beating clothes
BATTLE	army
BAVIN	used as an a piece of waste wood, applied
	contemptuously to anything worthless
	
BAWCOCK	a fine fellow
BAWD	procurer
BAY	the space between the main timbers of the roof
BEADSMAN	one who bids bedes, that is, prays prayers
	for another
BEARING-CLOTH	a rich cloth in which children were wrapt at
	their christening
BEAT	to flutter as a falcon, to meditate, consider
	earnestly
BEAVER	the lower part of a helmet
BEETLE	a mallet
BEING	dwelling
BEING	since, inasmuch as
BE-METE	to measure
BE-MOILED	daubed with dirt
BENDING	stooping under a weight
BENVENUTO	(Italian), welcome
BERGOMASK	a rustic dance
BESHREW	evil befal
BESTRAUGHT	distraught, distracted
BETEEM	to pour out
BETID	happened
BEZONIAN	a beggarly fellow
BIDING	abiding-place
BIGGEN	a night-cap
BILBERRY	the whortleberry
BILBO	a sword, from Bilboa, a town in Spain where
	they were made
BILBOES	fetters or stocks
BILL	a bill-hook, a weapon
BIN	been, are
BIRD-BOLT	a bolt to be shot from a crossbow at birds
BIRDING	part. hawking at partridges
BISSON	blind
BLANK	the white mark in the middle of a target;
	hence, metaphorically, that which is aimed at
BLENCH	to start aside, flinch
BLENT	blended
BLOOD-BOLTERED	smeared with blood
BLOW	to inflate
BOARD	to make advances to; accost
BOB	a blow, metaph. a sarcasm
BOB	to strike, metaph. to ridicule, or to obtain
	by raillery
BODGE	to botch, bungle
BODIKIN	a corrupt word used as an oath. 'Od's Bodikin,'
	God's little Body
BOITIER VERT	green box
BOLD	to embolden
BOLLEN	swollen
BOLTED	sifted, refined
BOLTER	a sieve
BOLTING-HUTCH	a hutch in which meal was sifted
BOMBARD	a barrel, a drunkard
BOMBAST	padding
BONA-ROBA	a harlot
BOND	that to which one is bound
BOOK	a paper of conditions
BOOT	help, use
BOOT	to help, to avail
BOOTLESS	without boot or advantage, useless
BOOTS	bots, a kind of worm
BORE	calibre of a gun; hence, metaph. size, weight,
	importance
BOSKY	covered with underwood
BOSOM	wish, heart's desire
BOTS	worms which infest horses
BOURN	a boundary
	A brook
BRACE	armour for the arm, state of defence
BRACH	a hound bitch
BRAID	deceitful
BRAVE	handsome, well-dressed
BRAVE	boast
BRAVERY	finery
	Boastfulness
BRAWL	a kind of dance
BREAST	voice
BREATHE	to exercise
BREATHING	exercising
BREECHING	liable to be whipt
BREED-BATE	a breeder of debate, a fomenter of quarrels
BREESE	the gadfly
BRIBE-BUCK	a buck given away in presents
BRING	to attend one on a journey
BROCK	a badger, a term of contempt
BROKE	to act as a procurer
BROKEN	having lost some teeth by age
BROKEN MUSIC	the music of stringed instruments
BROKER	an agent
BROTHERHOOD	trading company
BROWNIST	a sectary, a follower of Brown, the founder
	of the Independents
BRUIT	noise, report, rumour
BRUIT	to noise abroad
BRUSH	rude assault
BUCK	suds or lye for washing clothes in
BUCK-BASKET	the basket in which clothes are carried to the
	wash
BUCKING	washing
BUCK-WASHING	washing in lye
BUG	a bugbear, a spectre
BULLY-ROOK	a bragging cheater
BURGONET	a kind of helmet
BURST	to break
BUSKY	bushy
BUTT-SHAFT	a light arrow for shooting at a target
	
BUXOM	obedient
BY'RLAKIN	by our little Lady: an oath


CADDIS	worsted galloon, so called because it resembles
	the caddis-worm
CADE	a cask or barrel
CAGE	a prison
CAIN-COLOURED	red (applied to hair)
CAITIFF	a captive, a slave; hence, a witch
CALCULATE	prophesy
CALIVER	a hand-gun
CALLET	a trull
CALLING	appellation
CALM	qualm
CAN	to know, be skillful in
CANAKIN	a little can
CANARY	a wine brought from the Canary Islands
CANDLE-WASTERS	persons who sit up all night to drink
CANKER	a caterpillar
	The dog-rose
CANSTICK	a candlestick
CANTLE	a slice, corner
CANTON	a canto
CANVAS	to sift: hence, metaphorically, to prove
CAPABLE	subject to
	Intelligent
	Capable of inheriting
	Ample, capacious
CAPITULATE	make a combined force
CAPOCCHIA	a simpleton
CAPRICIO	caprice
CAPRICIOUS	lascivious
CAPTIOUS	capacious
CARACK	a large ship of burden
CARBONADO	meat scotched for broiling
CARBONADO	to scotch for broiling
CARD	the taper on which the points of the compass
	are marked under the mariner's needle
CAREIRE	the curvetting of a horse
CARKANET	a necklace
CARL	a churl
CARLOT	a churl
CASTILIAN	a native of Castile; used as a cant term
CASTILIANO VULGO	a cant term, meaning, apparently, to use discreet
	language
CATAIAN	a native of Cathay, a cant word
CATLING	cat-gut
CAUTEL	deceit
CAUTELOUS	insidious
CAVALERO	a cavalier, gentleman
CAVIARE	the roe of sturgeon pickled; metaph. a delicacy
	not appreciated by the vulgar
CEASE	decease
CEASE	put off, made to cease
CENSURE	judgment
CENSURE	to judge, criticise
CENTURY	a hundred of anything, whether men, prayers, or
	anything else
CEREMONY	a ceremonial vestment, religious rite, or
	anything ceremonial
CERTES	certainly
CESS	rate, reckoning
CHACE	a term at tennis
CHAMBER	a species of great gun
CHAMBERER	an effeminate man
CHANSON	a song
CHARACT	affected quality
CHARACTER	a letter, handwriting
CHARACTER	to carve or engrave
CHARACTERY	handwriting
	That which is written
CHARE	a turn of work
CHARGE-HOUSE	a free-school
CHARLES' WAIN	the constellation called also Ursa Major, or
	the Great Bear
CHARNECO	a species of sweet wine
CHAUDRON	entrails
CHEATER	for escheator, an officer who collected the
	fines to be paid into the Exchequer
	A decoy
CHEQUE	a technical term in falconry; when a falcon
	flies at a bird which is not her proper game she
	is said to cheque at it
CHEQUES	perhaps intended for ethics
CHEER	fortune, countenance
CHERRY-PIT	a game played with cherrystones
CHEVERIL	kid leather
CHEWIT	cough
CHILDING	pregnant
CH'ILL	vulgar for 'I will.' 
CHIRURGEONLY	in a manner becoming a surgeon
CHOPIN	a high shoe or clog
CHRISTENDOM	the state of being a Christian
CHRISTOM	clothed with a chrisom, the white garment
	which used to be put on newly-baptized children
CHUCK	chicken, a term of endearment
CHUFF	a coarse blunt clown
CINQUE PACE	a kind of dance
CIPHER	to decipher
CIRCUMSTANCE	an argument
CITAL	recital
CITE	to incite
CITTERN	a guitar
CLACK-DISH	a beggar's dish
CLAP I' THE CLOUT	to shoot an arrow into the bull's eye of the target
CLAW	to flatter
CLEPE	to call
CLIFF	clef, the key in music
CLING	to starve
CLINQUANT	glittering
CLIP	to embrace, enclose
CLOUT	the mark in the middle of a target
COAST	to advance
COBLOAF	a big loaf
COCK	a cockboat
COCK	a euphemism for God
COCK-AND-PIE	an oath
COCKLE	tares or darnel
COCKNEY	a cook
COCK-SHUT-TIME	the twilight, when cocks and hens go to roost
COG	to cheat, dissemble
COGNIZANCE	badge, token
COIGN	projecting corner stone
COIL	tumult, turmoil
COLLECTION	drawing a conclusion
COLLIED	blackened. Othello; 
COLOUR	pretence
COLOURABLE	specious
COLT	to defraud, befool
CO-MART	a joint bargain
COMBINATE	betrothed
COMBINE	to bind
COMMODITY	interest, profit
COMMONTY	used ludicrously for comedy
COMPACT	compacted, composed
COMPARATIVE	drawing comparisons
COMPARATIVE	rival
COMPARE	comparison
COMPASSIONATE	moving comparison
COMPETITOR	one who seeks the same thing, an associate in
	any object
COMPLEMENT	accomplishment
COMPLEXION	passion
COMPOSE	to agree
COMPOSTION	composition
COMPTIBLE	tractable
CON	to learn by heart
	To acknowledge
CONCEIT	conception, opinion, fancy
CONCUPY	concubine
CONDITION	temper, quality
CONDOLEMENT	grief
CONDUCT	escort
CONFECT	to make up into sweetmeats
CONFOUND	to consume, destroy
	Coriolanus; 
CONJECT	conjecture
CONSIGN	to sign a common bond, to confederate
CONSORT	company
CONSORT	to accompany
CONSTANCY	consistency
CONSTANT	settled, determined
CONSTANTLY	firmly
CONSTER	to construe
CONTEMPTIBLE	contemptuous
CONTINENT	that which contains anything
	That which is contained
CONTINUATE	uninterrupted
CONTRACTION	the marriage contract
CONTRARY	to oppose
CONTRIVE	to conspire
	to wear away
CONTROL	to confute
CONVENT	to convene, summon
	to be convenient
CONVERT	to change
CONVERTITE	a convert
CONVEY	to manage
	To filch
CONVEYANCE	theft, fraud
CONVICT	convicted
CONVICTED	overpowered, vanquished
	A doubtful word
CONVINCE	to conquer, subdue
CONVIVE	to feast together
CONVOY	escort
CONY-CATCH	to cheat
CONY-CATCHING	poaching, pilfering
COOLING CARD	used metaphorically for an insurmountable obstacle
COPATAIN HAT	a high-crowned hat
COPE	to reward, to give in return
COPY	theme
CORAGIO	courage! 
CORAM	an ignorant mistake for Quorum
CORANTO	lively dance
CORINTH	a cant term for a brothel
CORINTHIAN	a wencher
CORKY	dry like cork
CORNUTO	a cuckold
COROLLARY	a surplus
CORPORAL	corporeal, bodily
CORPORAL
OF THE FIELD	an aide-de-camp
CORRIVAL	rival
COSTARD	the head
COSTER-MONGER	peddling, mercenary
COTE	a cottage
COTE	to quote, instance
COTE	to come alongside, overtake
COT-QUEAN	an effeminate man, molly-coddle
COUCHINGS	crouchings
COUNT CONFECT	a nobleman composed of affectation
COUNTENANCE	fair shew
COUNTERFEIT	portrait
	A piece of base coin
COUNTERPOINT	a counterpane
COUNTERVAIL	to counterpoise, outweigh
COUNTRY	belonging to one's country
COUNTY	count, earl
COUPLEMENT	union
COURT HOLY-WATER	flattery
COVENT	a convent
COVER	to lay the table for dinner
COWISH	cowardly
COWL-STAFF	the staff on which a vessel is supported
	between two men
COX MY PASSION	an oath, a euphemism for 'God's Passion.'
COY	to stroke, fondle
	to condescend with difficulty
COYSTRIL	a kestrel, a cowardly kind of hawk
COZEN	to cheat
COZENAGE	cheating
COZENER	a cheater
COZIER	a tailor
CRACK	to boast
CRACK	a loud noise, clap
	A forward boy
CRACKER	boaster
CRACK-HEMP	a gallows-bird
CRANK	a winding passage
CRANKING	winding
CRANTS	garlands.  A doubtful word
CRARE	a ship of burden
CRAVEN	a dunghill cock
CREATE	formed, compounded
CREDENT	creditable
	Credible
	Credulous
CREDIT	report
CRESCIVE	increasing
CRESTLESS	not entitled to bear arms, lowborn
CRISP	curled, winding
CROSS	a piece of money, so called because the coin
	was formerly stamped with a cross
CROW-KEEPER	one who scares crows
CROWNER	a coroner
CROWNET	a coronet
CRY	the yelping of hounds
	A pack of hounds
	A company, use contemptuously
CRY AIM	to encourage
CUE	the last words of an actor's speech, which
	is the signal for the next actor to begin
CUISSES	pieces of armour to cover the thighs
CULLION	a base fellow
CUNNING	skill
CUNNING	skilful
CURB	to bend, truckle
CURRENTS	occurrences
CURST	
CURSTNESS	shrewishness
CURTAIL	a cur
CURTAL	a docked horse
CURTAL-AXE	a cutlass
CUSTALORUM	a ludicrous mistake for Custos Rotulorum
CUSTARD-COFFIN	the crust of a custard-pudding
CUSTOMER	a common woman
CUT	a cheat
	'To draw cuts' is to draw lots
CYPRESS	a kind of crape


DAFF	to befool
	To put off; this seems to be a corruption of 'doff.'
DAMN	to condemn
DANGER	reach, control, power
DANSKER	a Dane
DARE	to challenge
DARKLING	in the dark
DARRAIGN	to set in array
DAUB	to disguise
DAUBERY	imposition
DAY-WOMAN	a dairy-maid
DEAR	dire
	That which has to do with the affections
	Piteous
	Important
DEARN	lonely
DEBOSHED	debauched, drunken
DECK	to bedew. This is probably a form of the verb
	'to dag,' now a provincial word
DECK	a pack of cards
DECLINE	to enumerate, as in going through the cases of
	a noun
DECLINED	fallen
DEEM	doom, judgment
DEFEAT	to undo, destroy
DEFEAT	destruction
DEFEATURE	disfigurement
DEFENCE	art of fencing
DEFEND	to forbid
DEFENSIBLE	having the power to defend
DEFTLY	dexterously
DEFY	renounce
DEGREES	a step
DELAY	to let slip by delaying
DEMERIT	merit, desert
DEMURELY	solemnly
DENAY	denial
DENIER	the 12th part of a French sol coin
DENOTEMENT	marking
	Note or manifestation
DENY	to refuse
DEPART	departure
DEPART	to part
DEPARTING	parting, separation
DEPEND	to be in service
DERIVED	born, descended
DEROGATE	degraded
DESCANT	a variation upon a melody, hence,
	metaphorically, a comment on a given theme
DESIGN	to draw up articles
DESPATCH	to deprive, bereave
DESPERATE	determined, bold
DETECT	to charge, blame
DETERMINE	to conclude
DICH	optative mood, perhaps contracted for 'do it.'
DIET	food regulated by the rules of medicine
DIET	to have one's food regulated by the rules of
	medicine
DIFFUSED	confused
DIGRESSING	transgressing, going out of the right way
DIGRESSION	transgression
DIG-YOU-GOOD-DEN	give you good evening
DILDO	the chorus or burden of a song
DINT	stroke
DIRECTION	judgment, skill
DISABLE	to disparage
DISAPPOINTED	unprepared
DISCASE	to undress
DISCONTENT	a malcontent
DISCOURSE	power of reasoning
DISDAINED	disdainful
DISLIMN	to disfigure, transform
DISME	a tenth or tithe
DISPARK	to destroy a park
DISPONGE	to squeeze out as from a sponge
DISPOSE	disposal
DISPOSE	to conspire
DISPOSITION	maintenance
DISPUTABLE	disputatious
DISPUTE	to argue, examine
DISSEMBLY	used ridiculously for assembly
DISTASTE	to corrupt
DISTEMPERED	discontented
DISTRACTION	a detached troop or company of soldiers
DISTRAUGHT	distracted, mad
DIVERTED	turned from the natural course
DIVISION	a phrase or passage in a melody
DIVULGED	published, spoken of
DOFF	to do off, strip
	To put off with an excuse
DOLT	a small Dutch coin
DOLE	portion dealt
	Grief, lamentation
DON	to do on, put on
DONE	'done to death,' put to death
DOTANT	one who dotes, a dotard
DOUT	to do out, quench
DOWLAS	a kind of coarse sacking
DOWLE	the swirl of a feather
DOWN-GYVED	hanging down like gyves or fetters
DRAB	a harlot
DRABBING	whoring
DRAUGHT	a privy
DRAWN	having his sword drawn
DRAWN	drunk, having taken a good draught
DRIBBLING	weak
DRIVE	to rush impetuously
DROLLERY	a puppet-show
DRUMBLE	to dawdle
DRY	thirsty
DUC-DAME	perhaps the Latin duc-ad-me, bring him to me
DUDGEON	a dagger
DULL	soothing
DULLARD	a dull person
DUMP	complaint
DUP	to do up, Lift up


EAGER	sour
	Harsh
	Biting
EANLING	a yeanling, a lamb
EAR	to plough
ECHE	to eke out
EFT	ready, convenient
EISEL	vinegar
ELD	old age
EMBOSSED	swollen into protuberances
	Covered with foam
EMBOWELLED	disembowelled, emptied
EMBRASURE	embrace
EMINENCE	exalted station
EMPERY	empire
EMULATION	jealousy, mutiny
EMULOUS	jealous
ENCAVE	to place oneself in a cave
END	'Still an end,' continually for ever
ENFEOFF	to place in possession in fee simple
ENGINE	a machine of war
ENGLUT	to swallow speedily
ENGROSS	to make gross or fat
ENGROSSMENT	immoderate acquisition
ENKINDLE	to make keen
ENMEW	to shut up, as a hawk is shut up in a mew
ENSCONCE	to cover as with a fort
ENSEAMED	fat, rank
ENSHIELD	hidden
ENTERTAIN	encounter
	Experience
ENTERTAINMENT	treatment
	A disposition to entertain a proposal
	Service
ENTREATMENTS	interviews
EPHESIAN	a toper, a cant term
EQUIPAGE	attendance
EREWHILE	a short time since
ESCOT	to pay a man's reckoning, to maintain
ESPERANCE	hope, used as a war-cry
ESPIAL	a scout or spy
ESTIMATION	conjecture
ESTRIDGE	ostridge
ETERNE	eternal
EVEN	coequal
EVEN	to equal
EXAMINE	to question
EXCREMENT	that which grows outwardly from the body
	and has no sensation like the hair or nails
	Any outward show
EXECUTOR	an executioner
EXEMPT	excluded
EXERCISE	a religious service
EXHALE	to hale or draw out
	to draw the sword
EXHIBITION	allowance, pension
EXIGENT	death, ending
EXION	ridiculously used for 'action.' 
EXPECT	expectation
EXPEDIENCE	expedition, undertaking
	Haste
EXPEDIENT	expeditious, swift
EXPIATE	completed
EXPOSTULATE	to expound, discuss
EXPOSTURE	exposure
EXPRESS	to reveal
EXPULSE	to expel
EXSUFFICATE	that which has been hissed off, contemptible
EXTEND	to seize
EXTENT	a seizure
EXTERN	outward
EXTIRP	to extirpate
EXTRACTING	distracting
EXTRAUGHT	part. extracted, descended
EXTRAVAGANT	foreign, wandering
EXTREMES	extravagance of conduct
	Extremities
EYAS	a nestling hawk
EYAS-MUSKET	a nestling of the musket or merlin, the smallest
	species of British hawk
EYE	a glance, oeillad
EYE	a shade of colour, as in shot silk
EYNE	eyes


FACINOROUS	wicked
FACT	guilt
FACTIOUS	instant, importunate
FACULTY	essential virtue or power
FADGE	to suit
FADING	a kind of ending to a song
FAIN	glad
FAIN	gladly
FAIR	beauty
FAITOR	a traitor
FAll	to let fall
FALLOW	fawn-coloured
FALSE	falsehood
FALSING	deceptive
FAMILIAR	a familiar spirit
FANCY	
FANCY-FREE	untouched by love
FANG	to seize in the teeth
FANTASTIC	a fantastical person
FAP	drunk
FAR	farther
FARCED	stuffed
FARDEL	a burden
FARTUOUS	used ridiculously for ' virtuous.'
FAST	assuredly, unalterably
FAT	dull
FAVOUR	countenance
	Complexion
	Quality
FEAR	the object of fear
FEAR	to affright
FEARFUL	subject to fear, timorous
FEAT	dexterous
FEAT	to make fine
FEATER	comp. degree. more neatly
FEATLY	nimbly, daintily
FEATURE	beauty
FEDERARY	confederate
FEEDER	agent, servant
FEE-GRIEF	a grief held, as it were, in fee-simple, or the
	peculiar property of him who possesses it
FEERE	a companion, husband
FEHEMENTLY	used ridiculously for 'vehemently.'
FELL	the hide
FENCE	art or skill in defence
FEODARY	one who holds an estate by suit or service to
	a superior lord; hence one who acts under the
	direction of another
FESTER	to rankle, grow virulent
FESTINATELY	quickly
FET	fetched
FICO	a fig
FIELDED	in the field of battle
FIG	to insult
FIGHTS	clothes hung round a ship to conceal the men
	from the enemy
FILE	a list or catalogue
FILE	to defile
	To smooth or polish
	To make even
FILL-HORSE	shaft-horse
FILLS	the shafts
FILTH	a whore
FINE	end
FINE	to make fine or specious
FINELESS	endless
FIRAGO	ridiculously used for 'Virago.' 
FIRE-DRAKE	Will o' the Wisp
FIRE-NEW	with the glitter of novelty on, like newly-
	forged metal
FIRK	to chastise
FIT	a canto or division of a song
	A trick or habit
FITCHEW	a polecat
FIVES	a disease incident to horses
FLAP-DRAGON	raisins in burning brandy
FLAP-JACK	a pan-cake
FLAT	certain
FLATNESS	lowness, depth
FLAW	a gust of wind
	sudden emotion, or the cause of it
FLAW	to make a flaw in, to break
FLECKED	spotted, streaked
FLEET	to float
	To pass away
	to pass the time
FLEETING	inconstant
FLESHMENT	the act of fleshing the sword, hence the
	first feat of arms
FLEWED	furnished with hanging lips, as hounds are
FLIGHT	a particular mode of practising archery
FLIRT-GILL	a light woman
FLOTE	wave, sea
FLOURISH	an ornament
FLOURISH	to ornament, disguise with ornament
FLUSH	fresh, full of vigour
FOIL	defeat, disadvantage
FOIN	to fence, fight
FOISON	plenty
FOND	foolish, foolishly affectionate
FOOT-CLOTH	a saddle-cloth hanging down to the ground
FOR	for that, because
FORBID	accursed, outlawed
FORBODE	forbidden
FORCE	to stuff, for 'farce.' 
FORCED	falsely attributed
FORDO	to kill, destroy
	To weary
FOREIGN	obliged to live abroad
FOREPAST	former
FORESLOW	to delay
FORFEND	to forbid
FORGETIVE	inventive
FORKED	horned
FORMAL	regular, retaining its proper and essential
	characteristic
FORSPEAK	to speak against
FORSPENT	exhausted, weary
FORTHRIGHT	a straight path; forthrights and meanders,
	straight paths and crooked ones
FORWEARY	to weary, exhaust
FOSSET-SELLER	one who sells the pipes inserted into a vessel
	to give vent to the liquor, and stopped by a
	spigot
FOX	a sword; a cant word
FOX-SHIP	the cunning of the fox
FRAMPOLD	peevish, unquiet
FRANK	the feeding place of swine
FRANKED	confined
FRANKLIN	a freeholder, a small squire
FRAUGHT	freighted
FRAUGHTAGE	freight
FRAUGHTING	to fraught. loading or constituting the
	cargo of a ship
FRESH	a spring of fresh water
FRET	the stop of a guitar
FRET	to wear away
	To variegate
FRIEND	to befriend
FRIPPERY	an old-clothes shop
FROM	prep. contrary to
FRONT	to affront, oppose
FRONTIER	opposition
FRONTLET	that which is worn on the forehead
FRUSH	to break or bruise
FRUSTRATE	frustrated
FUB OFF	to put off
FULFILL	to fill full
FULL	complete
FULLAM	a loaded die
FULSOME	lustful
FURNISHED	equipped
FURNITOR	furnitory, an herb


GABERDINE	a loose outer coat, or smock frock
GAD	a pointed instrument, a goad
	Upon the gad, with impetuous haste, upon the spur
	of the moment
GAIN-GIVING	misgiving
GAIT	going, steps
GALLIARD	a kind of dance
GALLIASSE	a kind of ship
GALLIMAUFRY	a ridiculous medley
GALLOW	to scare
GALLOWGLASS	the irregular infantry of Ireland, and the
	Highlands of Scotland
GAMESTER	a frolicsome person
	A loose woman
GARBOIL	disorder, uproar
GARISH	gaudy, staring
GARNER	to lay by, as corn in a barn
GAST	frightened
GAUDY	festive
GAZE	an object of wonder
GEAR	matter of business of any kind
GECK	a fool
GENERAL	the generality, common people
GENERATIONS	children
GENEROSITY	noble birth
GENEROUS	noble
GENTILITY	good manners
GENTLE	gentlefolk
GENTLE	noble
GENTLE	to ennoble
GENTRY	complaisance, conduct becoming gentlefolk
GERMAN	akin
	Appropriate
GERMEN	seed, embryo
GEST	period
GIB	a he-cat
GIFTS	talents, endowment
GIGLOT	a wanton girl
GILDER	a coin of the value of 1s. 6d. or 2s
GILT	money
	State of wealth
GIMMAL	double
GIMMOR	contrivance
GING	gang
GIRD	to gibe
GIRD	a sarcasm or gibe
GLEEK	to scoff
GLEEK	a scoff
GLOSE	to comment; hence, to be garrulous
GLUT	to swallow
GNARL	to snarl
GOOD-DEED	indeed
GOOD-DEN	good-evening, contracted from 'Good-even.'
GOOD-YEAR
or GOOD-JER	a corruption of the French goujere; the
	venereal disease
GORBELLIED	corpulent
GOURD	a species of game of chance
GOUT	a drop
GOVERNMENT	discretion
GRACIOUS	abounding in grace Divine
GRAINED	engrained
GRAMERCY	int. grand mercy, much thanks
GRANGE	the farmstead attached to a monastery, a
	solitary farm-house
GRATILLITY	used ridiculously for 'gratuity.'
GRATULATE	to congratulate
GRAVE	to bury
GREASILY	grossly
GREEK	a bawd
GREEN	immature, fresh, unused
GREENLY	foolishly
GREET	to weep
GRIZE	a step
GROSSLY	palpably
GROUNDLING	one who sits in the pit of a theatre
GROWING	accruing
GUARD	decoration
GUARD	to decorate
GUARDAGE	guardianship
GUINEA-HEN	the pintado, a cant term
GULES	red, a term in heraldry
GULF	the throat
GUN-STONE	a cannon ball
GUST	taste, relish
GYVE	to fetter


HACK	to become common
HAGGARD	a wild or unreclaimed hawk
HAG-SEED	seed or offspring of a hag
HAIR	course, order, grain
HALIDOM	holiness, sanctification, Christian fellowship;
	used as an oath, and analogous to 'By my faith.'
HALL	an open space to dance in
HALLOWMAS	All Hallows' Day
HAP	chance, fortune
HAPPILY	accidentally
HANDSAW	perhaps a corruption of Heronshaw; a hern
HARDIMENT	defiance, brave deeds
HARLOCK	charlock, wild mustard
HARRY	to annoy, harass
HAUGHT	haughty
HAUNT	company
HAVING	property, fortune
HAVIOUR	behavior
HAY	a term in fencing
HEADY	violent, headlong
HEAT	of 'to heat,' heated
HEBENON	henbane
HEFT	a heaving
HEFT	furnished with a handle: hence,
	metaphorically, finished off, delicately formed
HELM	to steer, manage
HENCE	henceforward
HENCHMAN	a page or attendant
HENT	to seize, take
HERMIT	a beadsman, one bound to pray for another
HEST	command
HIGH	used in composition with adjectives to heighten
	or emphasize their signification, as, high-
	fantastical
HIGHT	called
HILD	held
HILDING	a paltry fellow
HINT	suggestion
HIREN	a prostitute. with a pun on the word 'iron.'
HIT	to agree
HOISE	to hoist, heave up on high
HOIST	hoisted
HOLP	to help; helped
HOME	to the utmost
HONEST	chaste
HONESTY	chastity
HONEY-STALKS	the red clover
HOODMAN-BLIND	the game now called blindman's-buff
HORN-MAD	probably, 'harn-mad,' that is, brain-mad
HOROLOGE	a clock
HOT-HOUSE	a brothel
HOX	to hamstring
HUGGER-MUGGER	secresy
HULL	to drift on the sea like a wrecked ship
HUMOROUS	fitful, or, perhaps, hurried
HUNT-COUNTER	to follow the scent the wrong way
HUNTS-UP	a holla used in hunting when the game was on
	foot
HURLY	noise, confusion
HURTLE	to clash
HURTLING	noise, confusion
HUSBANDRY	frugality
	Management
HUSWIFE	a jilt


ICE-BROOK	an icy-cold brook
I'FECKS	int. in faith, a euphemism
IGNOMY	ignominy
IMAGE	representation
IMBARE	to bare, lay open
IMMEDIACY	close connexion
IMMOMENT	unimportant
IMP	to graft. to splice a falcon's broken feathers
IMP	a scion, a child
IMPAWN	to stake, compromise
IMPEACH	to bring into question
IMPEACH	impeachment
IMPEACHMENT	cause of censure, hindrance
IMPERCEIVERANT	duff of perception
IMPETICOS	to pocket
IMPORTANCE	importunity
IMPORTANT	importunate
IMPORTING	significant
IMPOSE	imposition, meaning command or task imposed
	upon any one
IMPOSITIONS	command
IMPRESE	a device with a motto
IMPRESS	to compel to serve
INCAPABLE	unconscious
INCARNARDINE	to dye red
INCENSED	incited, egged on
INCH-MEAL	by inch-meal, by portions of inches
INCLINING	compliant
INCLINING	inclination
INCLIP	to embrace
INCLUDE	conclude
INCONY	fine, delicate
INCORRECT	ill-regulated
IND	India
INDENT	to compound or bargain
INDEX	a preface
INDIFFERENT	ordinary
INDIGEST	disordered
INDITE	to invite
	To convict
INDUCTION	introduction, beginning
INDURANCE	delay
INFINITE	infinite power
INGRAFT	to engraff, engrafted
INHABITABLE	uninhabitable
INHERIT	to possess
INHOOPED	penned up in hoops
INKHORN-MATE	a contemptuous term for an ecclesiastic, or man
	of learning
INKLE	a kind of narrow fillet or tape
INLAND	civilized, well-educated
INLY	inward
INLY	inwardly
INQUISITION	enquiry
INSANE	that which causes insanity
INSCONCE	to arm, fortify
INSTANCE	example
	Information
	Reason, proof
INTEND	to pretend
INTENDING	regarding
INTENDMENT	intention
INTENTIVELY	attentively
INTERESSED	allied
INTERMISSION	pause, delay
INTRENCHMENT	not capable of being cut
INTRINSE	intricate
INTRINSICATE	intricate
INVENTION	imagination
INWARD	an intimate friend
	intimate
INWARDNESS	intimacy
IRREGULOUS	lawless, licentious
ITERATION	reiteration


JACK	a mean fellow
JACK-A-LENT	a puppet thrown at in Lent
JACK GUARDANT	a jack in office
JADE	to whip, to treat with contempt
JAR	the ticking of a clock
JAR	to tick as a clock
JAUNCE	to prance
JESS	a strap of leather attached to the talons of a
	hawk, by which it is held on the fist
JEST	to tilt in a tournament
JET	to strut
JOURNAL	daily
JOVIAL	appertaining to Jove
JUDICIOUS	critical
JUMP	to agree
	to hazard
JUMP	hazard
JUMP	exactly, nicely
JUSTICER	a judge, magistrate
JUT	to encroach
JUTTY	a projection
JUTTY	to jut out beyond
JUVENAL	youth, young man


KAM	crooked
KECKSY	hemlock
KEECH	a lump of tallow
KEEL	to skin
KEEP	to restrain
KEISAR	Caesar, Emperor
KERN	the rude foot soldiers of the Irish
KIBE	a chilblain
KICKSHAW	a made dish
KICKSY WICKSY	a wife, used in disdain
KILN-HOLE	the ash-hole under a kiln
KIND	nature
KINDLE	to bring forth young; used only of beasts
KINDLESS	unnatural
KINDLY	natural
KIRTLE	a gown
KNAP	to snap, crack
KNAVE	a boy
	A serving-man
KNOT	a figure in garden beds
KNOW	to acknowledge


LABRAS	lips
LACED-MUTTON	a courtesan
LAG	the lowest of the people
LAG	late, behindhand
LAKIN	ladykin, little lady, an endearing term applied
	to the Virgin Mary in the oath, 'By our lakin.' 
LAND-DAMN	perhaps to extirpate; Hanmer thinks it means
	to kill by stopping the urine
LAPSED	taken, apprehended
LARGE	licentious, free
LARGESS	a present
LASS-LORN	deserted by a mistress
LATCH	to smear
	To catch
LATED	belated
LATTEN	made of brass
LAUND	lawn
LAVOLTA	a dance
LAY	wager
LEAGUE	besieging army
LEASING	lying
LEATHER-COATS	a kind of apple
LEECH	a physician
LEER	countenance, complexion
LEET	a manor court
LEGE	to allege
LEGERITY	lightness
LEIGER	an ambassador resident abroad
LEMAN	a lover or mistress
LENTEN	meagre
	That which may be eaten in Lent
L'ENVOY	the farewell or moral at the end of a tale or
	poem
LET	to hinder
	to binder
LET	hindrance
LETHE	death
LEVEL	to aim
LEVEL	that which is aimed at
LEWD	ignorant, foolish
LEWDLY	wickedly
LEWDSTER	a lewd person
LIBBARD	a leopard
LIBERAL	licentious
LIBERTY	libertinism
LICENCE	licentiousness
LIEF	dear
LIFTER	a thief
LIGHT O' LOVE	a tune so called
LIGHTLY	easily, generally
LIKE	to please
LIKE	to liken, compare
LIKE	likely
LIKELIHOOD	promise, appearance
LIKING	condition
LIMBECK	an alembick, a still
LIMBO	or Limbo patrum, the place where good men under
	the Old Testament were believed to be imprisoned till
	released by Christ after his crucifixion
LIME	bird-lime
LIME	to entangle as with bird-lime
	To smear with bird-lime
	To mix lime with beer or other liquor
LIMN	to draw
LINE	to cover on the inside
	To strengthen by inner works
LINSTOCK	a staff with a match at the end of it used by
	gunners in firing cannon
LIST	a margin, hence a bound or enclosure
LITHER	lazy
LITTLE	miniature
LIVELIHOOD	appearance of life
LIVERY	a law phrase, signifying the act of delivering
	a freehold into the possession of the heir or
	purchaser
LIVING	lively, convincing
LOACH	a fish so called
LOB	a looby
LOCKRAM	a sort of coarse linen
LODE-STAR	the leading-star, pole-star
LOFFE	to laugh
LOGGATS	the game called nine-pins
LONGLY	longingly
LOOF	to lull, bring a vessel up to the wind
LOON	a low contemptible fellow
LOT	a prize in a lottery
LOTTERY	that which falls to a man by lot
LOWT	a clown
LOWT	to treat one as a lowt, with contempt
LOZEL	a spendthrift
LUBBER	a leopard
LUCE	n. the pike or jack, a fresh-water fish
LUMPISH	duff, dejected
LUNES	fits of lunacy
LURCH	to defeat, to win
LURCH	to shift, to play tricks
LURE	a thing stuffed to resemble a bird with which
	the falconer allures a hawk
LUSH	juicy, luxuriant
LUSTIG	lusty, cheerful
LUXURIOUS	lascivious
LUXURY	lust
LYM	a limer or slow hound


MADE	having his fortune made
MAGNIFICO	the chief magistrate at Venice
MAGOT-PIE	a magpie, a pie which feeds on magots
MAIL	covered as with a coat of mail
MAIN-COURSE	a sea-term
MAKE	to do up, bar
	To do
MALKIN	a familiar name for Mary; hence a servant
	wench
MALLECHO	mischief
MAMMERING	hesitating
MAMMETS	a woman's breasts
	A doll
MAMMOCK	to break, tear
MAN	to tame a hawk
MANAGE	management
MANDRAGORA	or Mandrake a plant of soporiferous quality,
	supposed to resemble a man
MANKIND	having a masculine nature
MARCHES	frontiers, borders
MARCHPANE	a kind of sweet biscuit
MARGENT	margin
MARRY TRAP	an oath
MARTLEMAS	the Feast of St. Martin, which occurs on the
	11th of Nov. when the fine weather generally ends;
	hence applied to an old man
MATCH	an appointment
MATE	to confound, dismay
MEACOCK	tame, cowardly
MEALED	mingled
MEAN	instrument used to promote an end
MEAN	the tenor part in a harmony
MEAN	opportunity, power
MEASURE	reach
	A stately dance
MEAZEL	a leper, spoken in contempt of a mean person
MEDAL	a portrait in a locket
MEDICINE	a physician
MEED	reward, hire
	Merit
MEHERCLE	by Hercules
MEINY	retinue
MELL	to mix, to meddle
MEMORISE	to cause to be remembered
MEPHISTOPHILUS	the name of a familiar spirit
MERCATANTE	a foreign trader
MERELY	simply, absolutely
MESS	a company of four
METAPHYSICAL	supernatural
METE-YARD	measuring-wand
MEW UP	to confine
MICHER	a truant
MICKLE	much
MILL-SIXPENCE	a milled sixpence
MINCE	to do any thing affectedly
MINCING	affected
MISCREATE	illegitimate
MISDOUBT	to suspect
MISERY	avarice
MISPRISE	to despise
	To mistake
MISPRISION	mistake
MISSIVE	messenger
MISTEMPERED	angry
MISTHINK	to think ill of
MISTRESS	the jack in bowling
MOBLED	muffled
MODERN	commonplace
MODULE	a model, image
MOE	and more. Of frequent occurrence
MOIETY	a portion
MOME	a stupid person
MOMENTANY	momentary
MONTHS-MIND	a monthly commemoration of the dead, but used
	ludicrously to mean a great mind or strong desire
MOOD	anger
MOON-CALF	a nick-name applied to Caliban
MOONISH	inconstant
MOP	nod
MORISCO	a Moor
MORRIS-PIKE	Moorish-pike
MORT	death, applied to animals of the chase
MORT-DU-VINAIGRE	a ridiculous oath
MORTAL	fatal, deadly
	Murderous
MORTIFIED	ascetic
MOSE	a doubtful word, applied to some disease
	in a horse
MOTION	solicitation
	Emotion
MOTION	a puppet
MOTIVE	one who moves
	That which moves
MOTLEY	or the many-coloured coat of a fool, or
	a fool
MOTLEY-MINDED	foolish
MOUSE-HUNT	a weasel
MOW	to make grimaces
MOY	a coin, probably a moidore
MUCH	int. significant of contempt
MUCH	used ironically
MURE	a wall
MUST	a scramble
MUTINE	to mutiny
MUTINE	a mutineer


NAPKIN	a handkerchief
NATURAL	an idiot
NAYWARD	towards denial
NAYWORD	a catch-word, by-word
NEB	the beak
NEELD	a needle
NEIF	hand
NEPHEW	a grandson
NETHER-STOCKS	stockings
NEXT	nearest
NICE	foolish
NICK	score or reckoning
NICK	to brand with folly
NIGHTED	black as night
NIGHT-RULE	nightly solemnity
NINE MEN'S MORRIS	a place set apart for a Moorish dance by
	nine men
NINNY	a fool, jester
NOBILITY	nobleness
NOBLE	a coin, worth 6s. 8d
NODDY	a dolt
NONCE	for the nonce, corrupted from 'for then once,'
	for the occasion
NOOK-SHOTTEN	indented with bays and creeks
NOURISH	a nurse
NOVUM	a game at dice
NOWL	head
NUTHOOK	a hook for pulling down nuts, hence a thief
	


O	a circle
OAR	to row as with oars
OBSEQUIOUS	behaving as becomes one who attends funeral
	obsequies
OBSEQUIOUSLY	funereally
OBSTACLE	ridiculously used for 'obstinate.'
OCCUPATION	persons occupied in business
OCCURENT	an incident
OD'S BODY	|    'Od's in these
OD'S HEARTLINGS	|  and all similar
	| exclamations is
OD'S PITTIKINS	|  a euphemism
OD'S PLESSED WILL	|    for 'God's.'
OEILLIAD	an amorous glance
O'ERPARTED	having too important a part to act
O'ER-RAUGHT	overreached
	overtasked
OFFERING	challenging
OFFICE	benefit, kindness
	use, function
OLD	a cant term for great, as we say fine, or pretty
ONCE	some time
ONEYER	a banker.  A doubtful word
OPE	open
OPE	to open
	to open
OPEN	plain
	Public
OPEN	to give tongue as a hound
OPERANT	active
OPINIONED	used ridiculously for pinioned
OPPOSITE	adversary
OPPOSITION	combat
OR	before
ORDER	measures
ORDINANCE	rank, order
ORGULOUS	proud
ORT	leaving, refuse
OSTENT	show, appearance
OSTENTATION	show, appearance
	
OUNCE	a beast of prey of the tiger kind
OUPHE	a fairy
OUSEL-COCK	the blackbird
OUT	all out, fully
OUT-LOOK	to face down
OUTWARD	not in the secret of affairs
OUTWARD	outside
OWE	to own


PACK	to practise unlawful confederacy
PACK	a number of people confederated
PADDOCK	a toad
PAID	punished
PALABRAS	words, a cant term, from the Spanish
PALE	to enclose
PALL	to wrap as with a pall
PALLED	impaired
PALMER	one who bears a palm-branch, in token of having
	made a pilgrimage to Palestine
PALMY	victorious
PARCELLED	belonging to individuals
PARD	the leopard
PARITOR	an apparitor
PARLE	talk
PARLOUS	perilous
	keen, shrewd
PARTED	endowed, gifted
PARTIZAN	a pike
PASH	the face
PASH	to strike violently, to bruise, crush
PASS	to practise
	To surpass expectation
PASSANT	a term of heraldry, applied to animals
	represented on the shield as passing by at a trot
PASSING	surpassingly, exceedingly
PASSION	to have feelings
PASSIONATE	to suffer
PASSY-MEASURE	a kind of dance
PASTRY	the room where pastry was made
PATCH	a mean fellow
PATCHED	dressed in motley
PATCHERY	trickery
PATH	to walk
PATHETICAL	affected, hypocritical
PATIENT	to make patient, to compose
PATINE	the metal disc on which the bread is placed in
	the administration of the Eucharist
PATTERN	to give an example of
	Afford a pattern for
PAUCA VERBA	few words
PAUCAS	few, a cant word
PAVIN	a dance
PAX	a small image of Christ
PAY	to despatch
PEAT	a term of endearment for a child
PEDASCULE	a pedant, schoolmaster
PEER	to peep out
PEIZE	to balance, weigh down
PELTING	paltry
PERDU	lost
PERDURABLE	durable
PERDY	a euphemism for Par Dieu
PERFECT	certain
PERFECT	to inform perfectly
PERIAPTS	charms worn round the neck
PERJURE	a perjured person
PERSEVER	to persevere
PERSPECTIVE	a telescope, or some sort of optical glass
PEW-FELLOW	a comrade
PHEEZE	to comb, fleece, curry
PIA-MATER	the membrane covering the brain, the brain
	itself
PICK	to pitch, throw
PICKED	chosen, selected
PICKERS	(and stealers), the fingers, used ridiculously
PICKING	insignificant
PICKT-HATCH	a place noted for brothels. Merry Wives
	of Windsor
PIED	motley-coated, wearing the motley coat of a
	jester
PIELED	shaven
PLIGHT	pitched
PILCHER	a scabbard
PILL	to pillage
PIN	a malady of the eye
	The centre of a target
PINFOLD	a pound, a place to confine lost cattle
PIONED	digged
PLACKET	a petticoat-front
PLAIN SONG	a simple air
PLAITED	intricate
PLANCHED	made of boards
PLANTATION	colonizing, planting a colony
PLAUSIVE	plausible
PLEACHED	interwoven
POINT	a lace furnished with a tag by which the
	breeches were held up
POINT-DE-VICE	faultless
POISE	balance
	Doubt
POLLED	bare
POMANDER	a perfumed ball
POMEWATER	a kind of apple
POOR-JOHN	a herring
POPINJAY	a parrot
PORT	pomp, state
PORT	a gate
PORTABLE	bearable
PORTANCE	conduct, behavior
POSSESS	to inform
POTCH	to push violently
POTENT	a potentate
POUNCET-BOX	a box for holding perfumes
POWER	forces, army
PRACTISE	wicked stratagem
PRACTISANT	a confederate
PRANK	to dress up
PRECEPT	a justice's summons
PRECIOUSLY	in business of great importance
PREGNANCY	fertility of invention
PREGNANT	fertile of invention
	Ready
	Obvious
PRENOMINATE	to name beforehand, to prophesy
PRE-ORDINANCE	old-established law
PRESENCE	the presence-chamber
	High bearing
PREST	ready
PRETENCE	design
PRETEND	to portend
	To intend
PREVENT	to anticipate
PRICK	the mark denoting the hour on a dial
PRICK	to incite
	To choose by pricking a hole with a pin opposite the
	name
PRICK-SONG	music sung in parts by note
PRICKET	a stag of two years
PRIDE	heat
PRIG	to steal
PRIME	rank, lecherous
PRIMER	more-important
PRIMERO	a game at cards
PRINCIPALITY	that which holds the highest place
PRINCOX	a coxcomb
PRISER	a prize-fighter
PROCURE	to bring
PREFACE	interj. much good may it do you
PROFANE	outspoken
PROGRESS	a royal ceremonial journey
PROJECT	to shape or contrive
PROMPTURE	suggestion
PRONE	ready, willing
PROOF	strength of manhood
PROPAGATE	to advance, to forward
PROPAGATION	obtaining
PROPER-FALSE	natural falsehood
PROPERTIED	endowed with the properties of
PROPERTIES	scenes, dresses, &c. used in a theatre
	
PROPERTY	to take possession of
PROPOSE	to suppose, for the sake of argument
	To converse
PROPOSE	conversation
PROROGUE	to defer
PROVAND	provender
PROVISION	forecast
PUCELLE	a virgin, the name given to Joan of Arc
PUDENCY	modesty
PUGGING	thieving
PUN	to pound
PURCHASE	to acquire, win
PURCHASE	gain, winnings
PUT	to compel
PUTTER-ON	an instigator
PUTTER-OUT	one who lends money at interest
PUTTING-ON	instigation
PUTTOCK	a kite


QUAIL	to faint, be languid, be afraid
	to cause to quail
QUAINT	curiously beautiful
QUAKE	to cause to quake or tremble
QUALIFY	to moderate
QUALITY	those of the same nature
	Rank or condition
QUARREL	a suit, cause
QUARRY	game, a heap of game
QUART D'ECU	a quarter crown
QUARTER	the post allotted to a soldier
QUAT	a pimple; used in contempt of a person
QUEASY	squeamish, unsettled
	
QUELL	murder
QUENCH	to grow cool
QUERN	a hand-mill
QUEST	enquiry, search, inquest, jury
QUESTRIST	one who goes in search of another
QUICK	so far gone in pregnancy that the child is
	alive
QUICKEN	to come to life
QUIDDIT	|  a subtle question
QUIDDITY	|
QUILLET	quidebet, a subtle case in law
QUINTAIN	a post for tilting at
QUIP	sharp jest, a taunt
QUIRE	to sing in concert
QUIT	to requite, respond
QUIT	past tense of the verb to quit, quitted
QUITANCE	requital
QUIVER	active
QUOTE	to note


RABATO	a ruff
RABBIT-SUCKER	a weasel
RACE	breed; inherited nature
RACK	wreck
RACK	to enhance the price of anything
	To drive as clouds
RAG	a term of contempt applied to persons
RAKE	to cover
RAPT	transported with emotion
RAPTURE	a fit
RASCAL	a lean deer
RASH	quick, violent
RATE	opinion, judgment
RATE	to assign, to value
	To scold
RATOLORUM	a ludicrous mistake for Rotulorum
RAUGHT	past tense of reach
RAVIN	ravenous
RAVIN	to devour
RAWLY	inadequately
RAWNESS	unprovided state
RAYED	arrayed, served
RAZED	slashed
REAR-MOUSE	the bat
REBATE	to deprive of keenness
REBECK	a three-stringed fiddle
RECEIPT	money received
RECEIVING	capacity
RECHEAT	a point of the chase to call back the hounds
RECORD	to sing
RECORDER	a flute
RECURE	to cure, recover
RED-LATTICE	suitable to an ale-house, because ale-houses
	had commonly red lattices
RED-PLAGUE	erysipelas
REDUCE	to bring back
REECHY	smoky, dirty
REFELL	to refute
REFER	to reserve to
REGIMENT	government
REGREET	a salutation
REGREET	to salute
REGUERDON	requital
RELATIVE	applicable
REMEMBER	to remind
REMORSE	pity
REMORSEFUL	full of pity, compassionate
REMOTION	removal
REMOVED	sequestered, remote
RENDER	to describe you
RENDER	account
RENEGE	to renounce, to deny
REPAIR	to renovate, comfort
REPEAL	to reverse the sentence of exile. Two
	Gentlemen of Verona
REPROOF	confutation
REPUGN	to resist
REQUIEM	mass for the dead, so called because it begins
	with the words, Requiem eternam dona eis, Domine
RESOLVE	to satisfy
	To dissolve
RESPECT	consideration
RESPECTIVE	respectful, thoughtful
RESPECTIVE	corresponding
RESPECTIVELY	respectfully
RETAILED	handed down
RETIRE	retreat
RETIRE	to draw back
REVERB	to echo
REVOLT	a rebel
RIB	to enclose as within ribs
RID	to destroy
RIFT	to split
	to split
RIFT	a split
RIGGISH	wanton
RIGOL	a circle
RIPE	drunk
RIVAGE	the shore
RIVAL	a partner
RIVALITY	equal rank
RIVE	to fire
ROAD	the high road, applied to a common woman
ROISTING	roistering, violent
ROMAGE	unusual stir
RONVON	a term of contempt applied to a woman
ROOD	the crucifix
ROOK	a cheater
ROPERY	roguery
ROPE-TRICKS	tricks such as are played by a rope-dancer
ROUND	to whisper
	To become great with child
	to finish off
ROUND	a diadem
ROUND	unceremonious
ROUNDEL	a dance or song
ROUNDURE	an enclosure
ROUSE	carousal
ROYNISH	mangy
RUBIOUS	ruddy
RUDDOCK	the redbreast
RUSH	to push
RUSHLING	rustling


SACRIFICIAL	reverent, as words used in religious worship
SACRING-BELL	the little bell rung at mass to give notice
	that the elements are consecrated
SAD	serious
SADLY	seriously
SADNESS	seriousness
SAFE	to make safe
SAG	to hang down
SALT	lascivious
SALT	taste
SANDED	marked with yellow spots
SANS	without
SAUCY	lascivious
SAW	a moral saying
SAY	silken
SAY	assay, taste, relish
SCAFFOLDAGE	the gallery of a theatre
SCALD	scurvy, scabby
SCALE	to weigh in scales
SCALL	a scab, a word of reproach
SCAMBLE	to scramble
SCAMEL	probably a misprint for sea-mel, sea-mew
SCAN	to examine subtly
SCANT	to cut short, to spare
SCANT	scanty, short
	scarcely
SCANTLING	a small portion
SCAPE	to escape
SCAPE	a sally
SCATHE	injury
SCATHE	to injure
SCATHFUL	destructive
SCONCE	the head
SCOTCH	to bruise or cut slightly
SCRIMER	a fencer
SCROYLE	a scabby fellow
SCULL	a shoal of fish
SCURVY	scabby; metaph. mean
SEAL	to set one's seal to a deed; hence, to confirm
SEAM	fat
SEAMY	showing the seam or sewing
SEAR	scorched, withered
SEAR	to stigmatise
SEARCH	to probe; hence, to apply a healing remedy
	
SEATED	fixed, confirmed
SECT	a slip or scion
	A political party
SECURELY	inconsiderately
SEEL	to close
SEELING	closing, blinding
SEEMING	seemly, becomingly
SEEMING	outward manner and appearance
SEEN	versed, instructed
SELD	seldom
SELF-BOUNTY	native goodness
SEMBLABLY	alike
SENIORY	seniority
SENNET	a flourish of trumpets
SEPULCHRE	to bury
SEQUESTRATION	separation
SERE	dry
SERJEANT	a bailiff
SERPIGO	a cutaneous disease
SERVICEABLE	'serviceable vows,' vows that you will do
	her service, or be her servant
SETEBOS	the name of a fiend
SETTER	one who watches travellers to give information
	to thieves
SEVERAL	land which is not common but appropriated
SHAME	to be ashamed
SHAME	modesty
SHARDS	shreds, broken fragments of pottery
SHARDS	the wing cases of beetles; hence 'sharded,'
	and 'shard-borne,' 
SHARKED	snatched up, as a shark does his prey
SHEEN	brilliancy
SHEER	pure
	Unmixed
SHENT	rebuked, blamed
	Hurt
SHERIFF'S-POST	a post at the door of a sheriff, to which royal
	proclamations were fixed
SHIVE	slice
SHOT	the reckoning at an ale-house
SHOUGHS	shaggy dogs
SHOULDERED	plunged
SHOVEL-BOARD	game played by sliding metal pieces along
	a board at a mark
SHREWD	mischievous
SHRIFT	confession
	Absolution
SHRIVE	to confess
SHRIVING-TIME	time for confession
SHROUD	to enshroud oneself, cover oneself up
SIDE-SLEEVES	loose hanging sleeves
SIEGE	seat
	Stool
	Rank
SIGHT	an aperture in a helmet
SIGHTLESS	invisible
	Unsightly
SIGN	to give an omen
SILLY	simple, rustic
SIMULAR	counterfeit, feigned
SINGLE	feeble
SIR	a title applied to a bachelor of arts at the
	Universities
SITH	since
SITHENCE	since
SIZES	allowances
SKAINS-MATES	scapegraces
SKILL	to be of importance
SKILLESS	ignorant
SKIMBLE-SKAMBLE	rambling, disjointed
SKINKER	a drawer of liquor
SKIRR	to scour
SLACK	slacken
SLAVE	to turn to slavish uses
SLEAVE	floss-silk
SLEDDED	sledged
SLEIDED	untwisted, raw, applied to silk
	 (Gower)
SLEIGHTS	artifices
SLIPPER	slippery
SLIPS	a kind of noose, or leash
	A piece of base money
SLIVER	to slice
SLIVER	a slice
SLOPS	loose breeches
SLUBBER	to slur over
SMIRCHED	smeared, soiled
SMOOTH	to flatter
SMOOTHED	flattered, fawned upon
SNEAP	taunt, sarcasm
SNEAPED	pinched
SNECK-UP	go hang! 
SNUFF	anger
	'To take in snuff' is to take offence
SOFTLY	gently
SOIL	spot, taint
SOLICIT	solicitation
SOLIDARE	a small coin
SOLVE	solution
SOMETIMES	formerly
SOOTH	truth
	Conciliation
SOOTH	true
SOREL	a buck of the third year
SORRIEST	most sorrowful
SORRY	sorrowful, dismal
SORT	a company
	Rank, condition
	Lot
	'In a sort,' in a manner
SORT	to choose
	to suit
	To consort
SOT	fool
SOUL-FEARING	soul-terrifying
SOWL	to lug, drag
SOWTER	name of a dog
SPECIALLY	a special contract
SPED	settled, done for
SPEED	fortune
SPERR	to bolt, fasten
SPIAL	spy
SPILL	to destroy
SPILTH	spilling
SPLEEN	violent haste
	Used of the lightning flash
SPRAG	quick
SPRING	shoot, bud
	Beginning
SPRINGHALT	stringhalt, a disease of horses
SPRITED	haunted
SPURS	roots of trees
SQUANDERED	scattered
SQUARE	to quarrel
SQUARE	the front part of a woman's dress, stomacher
SQUARE	equitable
SQUARER	quarreller
SQUASH	an unripe peascod
SQUIER	a square or rule
SQUINY	to squint
STAGGERS	a disease in horses, attended with giddiness:
	hence any bewildering distress
STAIN	to disfigure
STALE	a decoy
	A gull
	A prostitute
STALE	to make stale, deprive anything of its
	freshness
STAND UPON	to be incumbent on
STANIEL	an inferior kind of hawk
STARK	stiff
STARKLY	stiffly
STATE	a canopied chair
STATION	attitude
	Act of standing
STATIST	a statesman
STATUA	a statue
STATUE	image, picture
STATUTE	security, obligation
STATUTE-CAPS	woollen caps worn by citizens
STAY	a cheque
STEAD	to profit
STEELED	set or fixed
STERNAGE	steerage, course
STICKLER	an arbitrator in combats
STIGMATIC	a deformed person
STIGMATICAL	deformed
STILL	constant
STILL	constantly
STILLY	softly
STINT	to stop
	to stop
STITHY	a smith's forge
STITHY	to forge
STOCCADO	a stoccata, or thrust in fencing
STOCK	a stocking
STOMACH	courage, stubbornness
	Appetite, inclination
STONE-BOW	a cross-bow for throwing stones
STOUP	a cup
STOUT	strong, healthy
STOVER	fodder
STRACHY	A word of doubtful meaning
STRAIGHT	immediately
STRAIN	lineage
	Disposition
STRAITED	straitened
STRANGE	foreign
	Coy, reserved
	Marvellous
STRANGENESS	coyness, reserve
STRANGER	foreigner
STRAPPADO	a kind of punishment
STRICTURE	strictness
STROSSERS	trowsers
STUCK	a thrust of a sword
STUCK IN	corruption of stoccata
STUFF	baggage
	Material, substance
STUFFED	filled, stored
STY	to lodge as in a sty
SUBSCRIBE	to yield
	to succumb
SUCCESS	issue, consequence
	Succession
SUCCESSIVE	succeeding
SUCCESSIVELY	in succession
SUDDEN	hasty, rash
SUDDENLY	hastily
SUFFERANCE	suffering
SUGGEST	to tempt, entice
SUGGESTION	temptation, enticement
SUITED	dressed
SULLEN	doleful, melancholy
SUMPTER	a horse that carries provisions on a journey
SUPPOSE	a trick, imposition
SUPPOSED	counterfeit
SURCEASE	to cease
SURCEASE	cessation, end
SURPRISE	to capture by surprise
SUR-REINED	over-worked
SUSPECT	suspicion
SUSPIRE	to breathe
SWABBER	a sweeper of the deck of a ship
SWARTH	black
SWARTH	quantity of grass cut down by one sweep of the
	scythe
SWASHER	swaggerer
SWASHING	dashing, smashing
SWATH	The same as 'swarth.' 
SWATHLING	swaddling
SWAY	to move on
SWEAR	to adjure
SWEAR OVER	to out-swear
SWIFT	ready, quick
SWINGE-BUCKLER	a bully


TABLE	a tablet, note-book
TABLE-BOOK	note-book
TABLES	the game of backgammon
	A note-book
TABOUR	a small side-drum
TABOURER	a player on the tabour
TABOURINE	tambourine, drum
TAG	the rabble
TAINT	tainted
TAINTURE	defilement
TAKE	to infect, blast, bewitch
TAKE IN	to conquer
TAKE OUT	to copy
TAKE UP	to borrow money, or buy on credit
	To make up a quarrel
TAKING	infection, malignant influence
TAKING UP	buying on credit
TALE	counting, reckoning
TALL	strong, valiant
TALLOW-CATCH	a lump of tallow
TANG	twang, sound
TANG	to sound
TANLING	anything tanned by the sun
TARRE	to excite, urge on
TARRIANCE	delay
TARTAR	Tartarus
TASK	to tax
	Challenge
TASKING	challenging
TASTE	to try
TAWDRY-LACE	a rustic necklace
TAXATION	satire, sarcasm
TAXING	satire
TEEN	grief
TELL	to count
TEMPER	to mix
TEMPERANCE	temperature
TEMPERED	mixed
TEND	to attend to
TENDER	to hold, to esteem
	To have consideration for
TENT	to probe as a wound
TENT	a probe for searching a wound
TERCEL	the male of the goshawk
TERMAGANT	a ranting character in old plays
TESTED	pure, assayed
TESTERN	to reward with a tester, or six-pence
THARBOROUGH	a constable
THEORICK	theory
THEWES	sinews, muscles
THICK	rapidly
THICK-PLEACHED	thickly intertwined
THIRD-BOROUGH	a constable
THOUGHT	anxiety, grief
	So 'to take thought' is to give way to grief
THRASONICAL	boastful
THREE-MAN BEETLE	a wooden mallet worked by three men
THREE-MAN-SONG-MEN	singers of glees in three parts
THREE-PILE	three-piled velvet
THRENE	lament
THRID	thread, fibre
THROE	to put in agonies
THRUM	the tufted end of a thread in weaving
THRUMMED	made od coarse ends or tufts
TICKLE	ticklish
TIGHT	nimble, active
TIGHTLY	briskly, promptly
TIKE	a cur
TILLY-VALLY	int. an exclamation of contempt
TILTH	tillage
TIMELESS	untimely
TINCT	stain, dye
TIRE	attire, head-dress
TIRE	to tear as a bird of prey
	Hence, metaphorically, to feed
TIRE	to attire, dress
TANG	twang, sound
TOD	to yield a tod of wool
TOKENED	marked with plague spots
TOKENS	plague spots
TOLL	to exact toll
	To pay toll
TOO TOO	excessively
TOPLESS	supreme, without superior
TOUCH	touchstone for testing gold
	Trait
	An acute feeling
TOUCHED	pricked
TOUSE	to pull, drag
TOWARD	nearly ready
TOWARDS	nearly ready
TOYS	trifles, foolish tricks
TRADE	beaten path
TRANECT	a ferry
TRANSLATED	transformed
TRASH	to cheque, as a huntsman his hounds
TRAVAIL	labour, toil
TRAY-TRIP	an old game played with dice
TREACHERS	traitors
TREATIES	entreaties
TRENCHED	carved
TRICK	technically, a copy of a coat of arms; hence,
	any peculiarity which distinguishes voice or
	feature
TRICK	to dress up
TRICKED	blazoned
TRICKING	ornament
TRICKSY	elegantly quaint
TRIPLE	third
TROJAN	a cant word for a thief
TROL-MY-DAMES	the name of a game; also called
	pigeon-holes
TROTH-PLIGHT	betrothed
TROW	to trust, think
TRUE	honest
TRUNDLE-TAIL	a long-tailed dog
TUCKET-SONANCE	a flourish on the trumpet
TUNDISH	a funnel
TURLYGOOD	a name adopted by bedlam-beggars
TURN	to modulate
TWANGLING	twanging
TWIGGEN	made of twigs, wicker
TWILLED	Retained by woven branches
TWINK	a twinkling
TWIRE	to peep, twinkle


UMBERED	stained, dark, as with umber
UNANELED	without extreme unction
UNAVOIDED	unavoidable
UNBARBED	untrimmed
UNBATED	unblunted
UNBOLT	to disclose
UNBOLTED	unsifted, unrefined
UNBREATHED	unpractised
UNCAPE	to throw off the hounds
UNCHARGED	undefended, applied to the gates of a city
UNCLEW	to unravel, undo
UNCOINED	unalloyed, unfeigned
UNDERGO	to undertake
UNDERTAKER	one who takes up another's quarrel
UNDER-WROUGHT	undermined
UNEATH	hardly
UNEXPRESSIVE	inexpressible
UNFAIR	to deprive of beauty
UNHAPPILY	censoriously
UNHAPPY	mischievous
UNHATCHED	undisclosed
UNHOUSELED	without receiving the sacrament
UNIMPROVED	unreproved
UNION	a pearl
UNJUST	dishonest
UNKIND	unnatural
UNLIVED	bereft of life
UNMANNED	untamed, applied to a hawk
UNOWED	unowned
UNPREGNANT	stupid
UNPROPER	common to all
UNQUESTIONABLE	not inquisitive
UNREADY	undressed
UNRESPECTIVE	inconsiderate
UNSISTING	unresting
UNSTANCHED	incontinent
UNTEMPERING	unsoftening
UNTENTED	unsearchable
UNTRADED	unused, uncommon
UNTRIMMED	spoiled of grace or ornament
UNTRUE	untruth
UNVALUED	invaluable
UPSPRING REEL	a boisterous dance
URCHIN	the hedge-hog
USANCE	usury
USE	interest
UTIS	riotous merriment, which accompanied the eighth
	day of a festival
UTTER	to expel, put forth
UTTERANCE	extremity


VADE	to fade
VAIL	to lower
VAILING	lowering
VAINNESS	vanity
VALANCED	adorned with a valence or fringe; applied
	to the beard
VALIDITY	value
VANTAGE	advantage
VANTBRACE	armour for the front of the arm
VARLET	a servant, valet
VAST	properly a waste-place, metaphorically, the dead
	of night
	A gulf
VASTIDITY	immensity
VASTLY	like a waste
VASTY	vast, waste
VAUNT	the van, that which precedes
VAUNT-COURIERS	forerunners
VAWARD	the van, vanguard, advanced guard of an army
	Hence, metaphorically, the first of anything
VEGETIVES	herbs
VELURE	velvet
VELVET-GUARDS	literally, velvet trimmings; applied
	metaphorically to the citizens who wore them
VENEW	a bout in fencing, metaphorically applied to
	repartee and sallies of wit
VENEY	a bout at fencing
VENGE	to avenge
VENTAGES	holes in a flute or flageolet
VERBAL	wordy
VERY	true, real
VIA	int. off with you! 
VICE	to screw
VICE	the buffoon in the old morality plays
VIE	to challenge; a term at cards
	To play as for a wager
VIEWLESS	invisible
VILLAIN	a lowborn man
VINEWED	mouldy
VIOL-DE-GAMBOYS	a bass viol
VIRGINALLING	playing as on the virginals, a kind of a
	spinet
VIRTUE	the essential excellence
	valour
VIRTUOUS	excellent
	Endowed with virtues
VIZAMENT	advisement
VOLUBLE	fickle
VOLUNTARY	volunteer
VOTARIST	votary, one who has taken a vow
VULGAR	the common people
VULGAR	common
VULGARLY	publicly


WAFT	to wave, beckon
	To turn
WAFTAGE	passage
WAFTURE	waving, beckoning
WAGE	to reward as with wages
WAILFUL	lamentable
WAIST	the middle of a ship
WANNION	'with a vengeance.' 
WAPPENED	withered, overworn
WARD	guard
	Prison
WARDEN	a large pear used for baking
WARDER	truncheon
WARN	to summon
WASSAIL	a drinking bout
	Festivity
WAT	a familiar word for a hare
WATCH	a watch light
WATCH	to tame by keeping constantly awake
WATER-GALL	a secondary rainbow
WATER-RUG	a kind of dog
WATER-WORK	painting in distemper
WAX	to grow
WAXEN	perhaps, to hiccough
WEALTH	weal, advantage
WEAR	fashion
WEATHER-FEND	to defend from the weather
WEB AND PIN	the cataract in the eye
WEE	small, tiny
WEE	to think
WEED	garment
WEET	to wit, know
WEIGH OUT	to outweigh
WELKIN	the sky
WELKIN	sky-blue
WELL-LIKING	in good condition
WELL SAID	int. well done! 
WEND	to go
WESAND	the wind-pipe
WHELK	a weal
WHELKED	marked with whelks or protuberances
WHEN	an exclamation of impatience
WHEN AS	when
WHERE	whereas
WHERE	a place
WHIFFLER	an officer who clears the way in processions
WHILE-ERE	a little while ago
WHILES	until
WHIP-STOCK	handle of a whip
WHIST	hushed, silent
WHITE	the centre of an archery butt
WHITELY	pale-faced.  A doubtful word
WHITING-TIME	bleaching time
WHITSTER	bleacher
WHITTLE	a clasp knife
WHOO-BUB	hubbub
WHOOP	to cry out with astonishment
WICKED	noisome, baneful
WIDOW	to give a jointure to
WIDOWHOOD	widow's jointure
WIGHT	person
WILD	weald
WILDERNESS	wildness
WIMPLED	veiled, hooded
WINDOW-BARS	lattice-work across a woman's stomacher
WINDRING	winding
WINTER-GROUND	to protect (a plant) from frost
WIS	in the compound 'I wis,' certainly
WISH	to commend
WISTLY	wistfully
WIT	knowledge, wisdom
WITHOUT	beyond
WITS	five, the five senses
WITTOL	a contented cuckold
WITTY	intelligent
WOMAN-TIRED	hen-pecked
WONDERED	marvellously gifted
WOOD	mad
WOODCOCK	a simpleton
WOODMAN	a forester, huntsman
	A cant term for a wencher
WOOLWARD	shirtless
WORD	to flatter or put off with words
	To repeat the words of a song
WORLD	'To go to the world' is to get married
	So 'a woman of the world' is a married woman
WORM	a serpent
WORSER	worse
WORSHIP	to honour
WORTH	wealth, fortune
WORTS	cabbages
WOT	to know
WOUND	twisted about
WREAK	vengeance
WREAK	to avenge
WREAKFUL	revengeful, avenging
WREST	an instrument used for tuning a harp
WRIT	gospel, truth
WRITHLED	shrivelled
WROTH	calamity, misfortune
WRUNG	twisted, strained
WRY	to swerve

XANTHIPPE	Socrate's scolding wife

YARE	ready, being understood
YARELY	readily
YAW	out of control
Y-CLAD	clad
Y-CLEPED	called, named
YEARN	to grieve, vex
	
YELLOWNESS	jealousy
YELLOWS	a disease of horses
YEOMAN	a sheriff's officer
YIELD	to reward
	To report
YOND	and yonder
YOUNKER	tyro


ZANY	a clown, gull