THE ANNOTATED™
ae
~eare
--A-Three Volumes in One
The Comedies The Histories, Sonnets and Other Poems The Traged...
205 downloads
3682 Views
175MB Size
Report
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form
..
THE ANNOTATED™
ae
~eare
--A-Three Volumes in One
The Comedies The Histories, Sonnets and Other Poems The Tragedies and Romances
Edited, with Introductions, Notes, a Biography and Bibliography by
A.L.ROWSE Illustrated in Color by Hans Printz
~ r
GREENWICH HOUSE
New York
~ -====:;;;;::;;;;===:;;;;::;;;;===:;;;;::;;;;========-
~
Copyright ©l\KMLXXYIU by Orbis Publishing Limited All rights reserved. This 1988 edition is published by Greenwich House, distributed by Crown Publishers, Inc., 225 Park Avenue South, Xew York, ::--rew York 10003, by arrangement with Clarkson X. Potter, Inc. Ai\XOTATED is a registered trademark of Clarkson X Potter, Inc. Printed and Bound in the Cnited States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. [Works. 1988] The annotated Shakespeare: three volumes in one illustrated: the comedies, the histories, sonnets, and other poems, the tragedies and romances I edited, with introductions, notes, a biography and bibliography by A.L. Rowse. p. cm. Bibliography: p. Includes index. ISBi\ 0-517-66555-7 II. Title. I. Rowse, A. L. (Alfred Leslie), 190388-6256 PR27S4.R67 1988 822.3'3-dc 19 CIP hgfedcba
CONTENTS Color plates appear following pages 254,478, 17 58
THE COMEDIES WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1564-1616) Introduction
6
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES Introduction
18
COMEDY OF ERRORS (1592) Introduction Play 32
26
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA (1592) Introduction Play 74
68
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW (1592) Introduction 116 Play
122
LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST (1593) Introduction Play 178
172
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM (1594) Introduction Play 236
230
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE (1596) Introduction Play 284
278
AS YOU LIKE IT (1598) lntroduction 334 Play 340 MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1599) Introduction 390 Play 396 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR (1591)-1600) Introduction Play 450
444
TWELFTH NIGHT (1601) Introduction 502 Play 508 TROILUS AND CRESSIDA (1602) Introduction 558 Play
564
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL (1603) Introduction 630 Play 636 MEASURE· FOR MEASURE (1604) IntrodQction 690 Play
696
THE HISTORIES, SONNETS AND OTHER POEMS SHAKESPEARE'S HISTORIES Introduction
751
THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY VI (1590) Introduction Play 762
756
THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY VI (1590) Introduction Play 822
816
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI (1591) Introduction Play 890
884
KING RICHARD III (1592) Introduction Play 958
952
KING RICHARD II (1595) Introduction Play 1039
1032
KING JOHN (I596) Introduction Play 1098
1092
THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV (1597) Introduction Play 1154
1148
THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY IV (1598) Introduction Play 1216
1210
KING HENRY V (1599) Introduction 1278 Play 1284 KING HENRY VIII (1613) Introduction Play 1350
1344
SHAKESPEARE'S POE:\IS Introduction A Laver's Complaint (1591) Introduction Poem 1416 Venus and Adanis (1593) Introduction Poem 1428 The Rape of Lucrece (1594) Introduction Poem 1456 THE SONNETS (1592-15945) Introduction Poems 1496 The Phoenix and the Turtle (1601) Introduction Poem 1538
1412 1414 1424 1452 1492 1536
THE TRAGEDIES AND ROMANCES SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDIES & ROMANCES Introduction 1543 TITUS ANDRONICUS (1590-1) Introduction Play 1554
1548
ROMEO AND JULIET (1594-5) Introduction Play 1610
1604
"JULIUS CAESAR (1599) Introduction Play 1676
1670
HAMLET (1600-1) Introduction Play 1730
1724-
OTHELLO (1604) Introduction 1804 Play 1810 KING LEAR (1605-6) Introduction Play 1880
1874
MACBETH (1606) Introduction Play 1954
1948
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA (1607) Introduction Play 2008
2002
CORIOLANUS (1608) Introduction Play 2082
2076
TIMON OF ATHENS (1608) Introduction Play 2158
2152
PERICLES (1608) Introduction Play 2212
2206
CYMBELINE (1609) Introduction Play 2266
2260
THE WINTER'S TALE (1610-11) Introduction Play 2338
2332
THE TEMPEST (1611) Introduction Play 2402
2396
Further Reading
2444
Index
2450
:\cknowledgments
2461
The Comedies
William Shakespeare
MORE IS K.."\'OWN about \Villiam Shakespeare than any other of the Elizabethan dramatists, with the single exception of Ben Jonson. Even here we know far less about Ben's early life-more about the later, for he was ten years younger and lived right on into the reign of Charles I, when more information was available about everybody. The reason for our fuller knowledge of Shakespeare's earlier life is that his father was a prominent townsman at Stratford-upon-A"on, 'where he rose to become alderman and bailiff (i.e. mayor) of the busy market-town. It was conveniently placed between the woodland country of Arden and the rich arable of South \Vanvickshire; to the south, the Cots\volds for sheep and shepherds and country sports; to the west, down river to \Vorcester and the cattle routes to \Vales; not far from Watling Street, the direct route to London, or over Clopton's fine bridge (still there 1) to Oxford and thence to London. John Shakespeare and :\Iary Arden came into Stratford on marriage, both from Arden country. He set up business as a glover, in the rn'o houses in Henley Street which he owned. ~hry Arden was socially superior, almost certainly a sprig of the Arden gentlefolk of north \\?anvickshire; for her father's house out at \Vilmcote was rather grander than an ordinary farmer's, with arras hangings on the walls, and she inherited some land. When William, upon success in London, bought the best house in Stratford and took out a coat-of-arms in his father's name-so that he should be a gentleman born-he later proposed quartering his Spear rXon sans droictl) with the arms of the Ardens. He is constantly referred to as 'gentle', which in Elizabethan English meant 'gentlemanly'-and such was always his bearing, in contrast to many of the theatre-folk. His granddaughter, Elizabeth, ended up as a lady of title, Lady Barnard. The borough archives at Stratford are full of the municipal activities of the alderman, as the parish registers are liberally sprinkled with the baptisms and burials of the family. William, the eldest son, was baptised in Holy Trinity on 26 April 1564, when he would have been a few days old. In the end most of his own immediate family were gathered together in the chancel, where they all lie with him, before the altar, his monument, the familiar bust, looking down upon them there.
Opposite: William Shakespeare. This engrm:ing by Jl1m,tin Dmeshout is the oni}' allthentic likeness of Shakespeare
7
Introduction
~ othing
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
is more remarkable than the continuous and close association he managed to keep with his native town, in the pressures of so strenuous and exacting a career. Where other actors like Heming and Condell, or Edward £-\lle~"11, im'ested their savings in London or near London, Shakespeare invested his in Stratford. He was detennined to make a figure as an independent gentleman in his native town; he is referred to as 'gentleman' and ':\Iaster' Shakespeare from the years of success in London. One notices a contrast with his father, who 'was easy-going about business and de,-oted too much of his time to the town's affairs, so that from 1577 he lost money and had to sell off some of his wife's inheritance. \Vhen \Yilliam at last, belatedly, achieved success he was more careful. He had, ho,w,-er, a 'merry' disposition in common with his father-he refers to his 0\\"11 'sportive blood'; and, at eighteen, can hardly have helped himself by getting a neighbour's daughter, Anne Hathaway, with child. Gentlemanly as e,-er, he married the woman, eight and a half years older-which meant much more in those days of early maturing and early deaths-and in :Uay 1583 his first child, the cle\-er girl Susanna, ,,-as born. Twenty months later, in I585, twins were born, Hamnet and Judith, named after nearby neighbours. ]udith was the stupid member of the family; the boy did not E,-e to carryon the name, dying at eleven in 1596. Xomore children were born. But, in 1585, what was a young parent of twenty-one to do, with a wife and three children to support, his father's affairs having gone downhill? He is recorded once more in Stratford, in 1587, before he achieved public acclaim and success with his Henry VI plays in 1590-1. In the inten-al, we have the information going right back to Beeston of the Globe Company, that he was a schoolmaster in the country. Everything corroborates this. All of his early plays are full of school-material, and he is an adept at making the most of it. Elizabethan grammar-school education was entirely based on Latin, with some logic and more rhetoric; then there were Prayer Book and Bible. The allusions and references that well up naturally in Shakespeare's mind are always these: they bespeak his hildwzg. It was not different from :\Iarlowe's, though he was a university man, or
_-\boye:
Shakespeare's birthplace, StratJord-lIponAxon
Opposite: John Aubre:/s Brief Life of Shakespeare, r68r. Aubrey notes the source of his information in the margin
9
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Above: Robert Greene, the pamphleteer. Titlepage of a pamphlet' Greene in Conceipte', IS9 8 Above right: Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton, and Shakespeare's patron. From an oil painting by John de Cn'tz the Elder c.I6oI-3
10
Introduction
Jonson's, who was not. John Aubrey tells us, in only the next generation, that Shakespeare lived in Shoreditch; this would be early on, near the first theatres, the Theatre and Curtain, where he acted. Here too lived other theatre and writing folk, Marlowe, Vvatson, Greene, and the foreign musicians of the Queen, notably the prolific Bassanos. Aubrey added, 'the more to be admired q(uia) he was not a company keeper ... wouldn't be debauched.' This is convincing-a reason why we do not hear of him, bumbling about the town, drinking and whoring like notorious Robert Greene, or, perhaps worse, like Marlowe. The newcomer was busy and ambitious, with his way to make, playing, touring in the country, with a respectable wife and three children to maintain at Stratford. There they remained: no evidence of them ever in London, though we find Shakespeare lodging at various times in Bishopsgate, in Silver Street, and in Southwark, all convenient to the theatres. His permanent home was always Stratford; Aubrey says that he was 'wont to go into Warwickshire once a year.' By 1591 the touring actor who had taken to writing plays, in some association with Kyd and Marlowe-since they all wrote partly for Pembroke's-had broken through to success. We have an unfriendly glimpse of him through the eyes of Robert Greene, jealous of the player, an 'upstart crow' (actually Shakespeare was more of a magpie for picking up bits everywhere). 'A player!' says Greene, '1 took you rather for a gentleman of great living; for, if by outward habit men should be censured, you would be taken for a substantial man.' 'So I am, where 1 dwell ... What though the world once went hard with me, when I was fain to carry my playing-fardel a footback? Tempora mutantur . .. it is otherwise now, for my very share in playing apparel will not be sold for £200.' 'Truly,' said Greene, 'it is strange that you should so prosper in that vain
Introduction
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
practice for that it seems to me your voice is nothing gracious.' No doubt he had a West Midlands accent. The gentleman-like player, nothing abashed, replied: 'I was a country author, passing at a moral ... and for seven years was absolute interpreter of the puppets.' Xow seven years from 1592 takes us back to I585 and the addition of twins to his family at twenty-one, when he would need to look about. The encounter ends with Greene, employed by the player, having to pen playsneeds must-as we know Greene did, no actor himself. And from his death-bed he indited his famous attack on the players, warning against them his fellow-writers, to whom they were so beholden, in particular, against the player who was now rivalling them at their job, thinking himself as good as any of them, if not better, a 'perfect Johannes Factotum'. Hostile as this was, there is a great deal that is revealing in the picture. Success was longer in coming to the player, the family man, than it had to the unattached J\1arlowe with Tambllrlaille or Kyd ',"°ith The Spanish Tragedy. But it won for him the patronage of the young Earl of Southampton and experience which was of crucial importance in the life of the man and the development of the artist. For it meant the introduction to a cultiyated, aristocratic circle to which his nature ardently responded; and it opened up chances and yistas hitherto glimpsed only from afar. The sonnets of the poet to the youthful patron began, formally enough, in persuasion of him to marry and do his duty by the family, but they soon developed into a warm, if always deferential, friendship. Shakespeare was attracted by a dark and musical, but also equi\'ocal, lady; in the usual Elizabethan manner the poet got his lord to write to her on his behalf. The lady seized the opportunity to entangle the youth, for whom Shakespeare felt a quasi-tutorial responsibility and a more than parental affection. We now kno"o that the lady was Emilia Lanier, natural daughter of Baptista Bassano, one of the Queen's Italian musicians, and the discarded mistress of Lord Chamberlain Hunsdon. She had been married off to another royal musician, Alfonso Lanier, with whom she was unhappy and discontented. Another complication in Shakespeare's exceptional experience of friendship was his patron's taking up :\Iarlowe briefly, just before his tavern-death in May I593. These tensions strained, but deepened and enriched, the complex psychological experience recorded in the sonnets. Highly sexed and heterosexual, Shakespeare fell helplessly under the spell of his temperamental, tormenting mistress, who led him a frightful dance, driving him 'frantic-mad'. In the end, she gaye him his dismissal; the affair was broken off, with the poet repairing to Bath for cure of love's distemper. :\e\'ertheless, the friendship with Southampton remained unbroken, though subjected to these strains. For the poet owed, as he expressed, eternal gratitude to the generous young patron for support during the critical years I592 and 1593, \vhen the theatres were closed owing to the recurrence of plague. Plague two years running imposed a fearful burden upon the theatre-folk, broke some of the touring companies, necessitated kaleidoscopic chops and changes, killed off actors' families, besides the mortality from other causes to the poets: Greene, IVIarlowe's friend V\Tatson, Marlowe himself, and shortly after Kyd; not long after, Peele. That Shakespeare came through the crisis unscathed he owed largely to Southampton; no less important was the inspiration he deriyed from these passionate emotional experiences. There were also his opportunities and alternatives so fortunately provided during the closure of the theatres. The actor-dramatist was free to challenge fame as a poet with the long narrative poems he dedicated to his patron, Venus and Adonis (1593) and, with exceptional warmth and gratitude, The Rape of Lllcrece (I 594). Contemporaneously with these he was writing the sonnets, private offerings of a poet to a patron, II
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Introduction
never published by him (indeed, some of them were much too near the bone, so intimate an autobiography they record). At the same time, there were private theatrical opportunities. Love's Labow's Lost (I593) was a skit on the young patron's abnegation of marriage, with a self-portrait of the dramatist as Berowne and of his dark mistress as Rosaline. The marriage of Southampton's mother to Sir Thomas Heneage, Vice-Chamberlain to the Queen-who did not approve of it-provided the occasion for A Midsummer Night's Dream (which ends with Mayday rejoicings) at the private wedding of this elderly couple on 2 May 1594· In that year, the plague over, the ground was clear for a new start. The initiative was taken by James Burbage, who had built the first Theatre, properly so called, in 1576. He had always been Lord Chamberlain Hunsdon's man. His son, Richard Burbage, was to become the star of the Company, famous in the role of Richard III, London's leading actor after Alleyn's retirement. He and Shakespeare were the Castor and Pollux of the Company. Aubrey tells us that Shakespeare 'did act exceedingly well', as we might have guessed from the leading place he is given in the lists of actors. 'Now Ben Jonson was never a good actor, but an excellent instructor'-that also we might have guessed. More important, Shakespeare brought to the new combination more than half-a-dozen plays he had already written, his experience in producing, his not inconsiderable business capacity and self-confidence; above all, his abundant creativeness. It is likely that Augustine Phillips, Heming, Pope and the leading comic actor, Will Kemp, went back to the beginning. This group, except for Kemp who left in 1599, held together for the rest of their lives. They shortly overtook the Admiral's Company, which had enjoyed a lead with AHeyn to act and Marlowe to write for it; by the end of the reign the Chamberlain's Men were performing twice as often as all the rest at Court. In 1599 they constructed their permanent home on the South Bank with the Globe-the great 'round 0' of the Prologue to Henry V -in which Shakespeare had a part share. It is fairly certain that his patron bought him this original share in the Company. On James 1's accession he took on their patronage and they became the King's Men; their remuneration for performances at Court was doubled, their status enhanced by being formally enrolled as Grooms of the Chamber. All this registered the ascent to social respectability of a profession which had been disconsidered earlier: 'strolling players' were equated with vagrants. William Shakespeare had indeed hitched his players' wagon to a star; several of his colleagues became armigerous gentlemen too, laughed at for it by Ben. Nevertheless, it was they who gave Jonson his chance by putting on in 1598 his Every Man in his Humour, in which Shakespeare acted, as also later in Sejanus. The formation of the Chamberlain's Company provided the stable foundation for the actor-dramatist's career, by which he made his money, after a long uphill struggle. From that he never looked back-indeed he never had done so, except in a nostalgic sense; for he was a backward-looking, historically-minded man, conservative and traditionalist, who found inspiration in the past, not in any doctrinaire vision of the future. Hence the magnificent role of the historical plays-more than one-third of his output was historical in one shape or another. Here we must confine ourselves to the external marks of his career. By 1602, in possession of New Place and a coat-of-arms, he invested his growing profits in 107 acres of the best land in Old Stratford. Three years later he made a larger investment in one-half of all the tithes on and around the town, which had belonged to the former canons of Holy Trinity, in whose chancel he was to be buried as a kind of lay-rector 12
Introduction
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Far left: Richard BUTbage, Shakespeare's chief actor. His father built the Globe Theatre in z599. Oil painting probably by Burbage himself Left: The Globe Theatre: detail from Visscher's 'Vietl: of London', z6z6
~
...
• of the parish. He was indeed its gentleman now, quite a leading figure, consulted by his cousin the town-clerk O\'er the town's affairs, improvement of highways, enclosures. He was too busy to take a hand in them-when he bought his land, his bachelor brother, Gilbert, had to take possession for him during his absence. 'Ve have a close-up of him in London at the turn of the century, from a fascinating legal case a dozen years later. In 1612 '\'7illiam Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon, gentleman, of the age of 48 years or thereabouts' (quite correct) gave evidence concerning the betrothal of the daughter of the :\Iontjoies, the French household in Silver Street, where he had been lodging ten years or so before. He had indeed effected the betrothal to an apprentice of these wig-makers, moved thereto by :\Iadame :\Iontjoie, with whom he was evidently on terms of some confidence. \Ve do not know huw long he lodged there, but it takes us back to the French background of All's Well and perhaps to the French scenes of Henry V. From 1599 we have a description of a performance of Julius Caesar at the Globe by a young Swiss tourist, Thomas Platter, who was highly impressed. By this time the theatres, though disapproved of by the growing number of pious Puritans, had graduated into being among the leading attractions of London, especially to foreign visitors. Plays regularly punctuated occasions at Court-so that Shakespeare had every opportunity of sun' eying the scene and hearing the gossip, from a privileged position; similarly with performances at the Inns of Court 1 or at the universities, while touring was not completely given up. As the years went on Shakespeare acted less and ""as more at Stratford. Unlike Jonson, he had never written for the Boys' companies, and, unlike :VIarlowe, he was not interested in boys, except as actors. But from 1596 to 1608 the Burbages had leased the hall within Blackfriars to the Boys' companies, where they put on a successful run of largely satirical comedies, in rivalry with the men's companies. They provided
I Inns of Court were residential colleges for the study of law located along the north bank of the Thames
13
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
'.
lcf. G. E. Bentley's authoritative The hofession of Dramatist in
Shakespeare's Age.
14
Introduction
a draw for a more select, sophisticated, upper-class audience, willing to pay more for something new, within doors, out of the elements. After much thought Shakespeare's Company decided to enter this new field, with its promise for the future, while continuing at the Globe with its larger, more mixed public. This move provided a new 1::~al1enge to the powers of the dramatist, always popular with the wider public, and p~rtly accounts for the new direction observable in his last plays. There had been provision for masques in some of his earlier plays, now they took on an added importance, with more music and scenery. We are on the way to his collaboration with John Fletcher, being trained up as Shakespeare's successor as dramatist-in-chief to the Company, preparatory to retirement to Stratford. The country's most popular dramatist was fair game to the not well organised and not wholly respectable trade of publishing. For it must be remembered that an author had not modem copyright in his works, unless he published them first-and it was not to the interest of a dramatist or his Company to publish his plays, at 6d a time: it was performance that brought in the money. Thus Shakespeare, whose interests were entirely in the theatre and its prosperity, did not wish his plays to be published. They were, however, so popular as to be often pirated; sometimes the Company took action to 'stay' publication, even then not always effective, and sometimes a better version of a play was put forth to correct the travesty of it which had been reconstructed (usually by actors) from memory from the theatre. It was not at all the thing for professional dramatists to publish their plays, and not in their interest to do SO.l Ben Jonson was the first to collect, edit and publish his plays as his Works, in the year of Shakespeare's death, and was laughed at for doing so. But then he was not really a professional: he thought of himself as something better than a playwright-a Poet. Shakespeare's poems also were got hold of and published without his consent, the popularity of his name taken advantage of on the title page. In 1599 William Jaggard published The Passionate Pilgrim, as 'by W. Shakespeare'. It contains some half-a-dozen of his poems, three from LoveJs LabourJs Lost and a couple of his sonnets which had got into circulation. Thomas Heywood, who was a professional dramatist, tells us how Shakespeare reacted: 'so the Author I know much offended with Mr. Jaggard thataltogether unknown to him-presumed to make so bold with his name.' It was like the publication of Greene's attack on him years before, for which Chettle had so handsomely apologised: 'because myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes', i.e. as an actor. 'Besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty [Elizabethan for honourableness], and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his Art'. What a noble tribute it is!-the most generous apology I know of in the age. We may place it beside the critical Jonson's no less revealing characterisation: 'he was indeed honest, and of an open and free nature'. And this even apart from his genius as a writer: 'an excellent fancy, brave notions and gentle (i.e. gentlemanly) expressions', his flowing wit and prolific 'facility'. His patron had stood by him at the critical time of Greene's attack on him in 1592. Your love and pity doth the impression fill, Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow; For what care I who calls me well or ill, So you oJer-greene my bad, my good allow. Now, in 1609, there came out the most important of all works for Shakespeare's biography, his Sonnets, the most intimately autobiographical and revealing ever written
Introduction
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
-as ".. e should expect of one whose nature was open and free, utterly candid. It does not seem that Shakespeare had a hand in their publication, they are too revealing and moreover are badly proof-read, as were not the two poems he himself had dedicated to Southampton years before. There turned up with the Sonnets a longish poem, A Lo'ver's Compla£nt, rather like Venus and Adonis; in it the young patron is again recognisable-evidently a diploma-piece on the threshold of being taken into his favour. For all those early works, poems and sonnets alike, were for him: all alike my songs and praises be To one, of one, still such, and eyer so. And again: \Vhy write I still all one, eYer the same ... That eyery word doth almost tell my name? The answer was: 0, know, sweet love, I always write of you. What he was writing in those years belonged to the patron, v..hich points to A LO'I.:e1-'s Complaint and the Sonnets together coming out of the Southampton cache. They were published now by Thomas Thorp, the publisher, with a typically flowery dedication which has giYen trouble to generations who do not know Elizabethan social usage. For he dedicated the work to ':\Ir. \V. H.', when it was quite regular to refer to a knight as :\Ir. (i.e. :\Iaster), though neyer a Lord. Indeed Southampton's mother always referred to her second husband, Sir Thomas Heneage as :\Iaster Heneage. Her third husband was a young man, Sir \\Tilliam Hen-ey, to whom she left all her household goods and chattels in 1607. In 1608 he married a young wife: this is why in 1609 Thorp is wishing him 'all happiness and that eternity promised by our everlasting poet', i.e. the eternity of haying children and carrying on the family to posterity, which the poet had promised his young patron if only he would marry. Thus 'the only begetter' was not the patron, the young Lord of the Sonnets, but his step-father, the only person who had got the manuscript of them. Thorp was fulsome in his gratitude; we ha,-e reason to be eyen more so. One person had no reason to be grateful, for the indelible, unforgettable portrait of her that has come down to posterity in the Sonnets-at the opposite pole to the ideal Delias and Celias of com-entional sonnet-sequences. Emilia Lanier had eyery reason to resent the delineation of her, though written years before and not put into circulation (the patron had the title to his poet's work). In the interval she had undergone a religious com-ersion-no improbable rebound from such a life for such a temperament. She immediately announced the publication of her own long religious poem, Salve Deus Rex ]ztdaeorlllll, v,hich appeared in 1611, and inserted in the ,-olume a furious riposte to those men who demean women. The temperament is still recognisable in her tirade against 'evil disposed men who forgetting that they were born of women, nourished of women, and that if it were not by the means of women they would be quite extinguished out of the world and a final end to them all-do, like Vipers, deface the wombs wherein they were bred." ::'\0 reply was possible to that: indeed silence was the best policy, and the little "olume was completely overlooked till our time. At Stratford his father had died in 1601, his mother, :\Iary Arden in 1608. The year before, in 1607, his elder daughter Susanna married a well qualified physician, a
1 c.f. my edition of The Poems oj Shakespeare's Dark Lady, with Introduction covering her biography.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Above; Plan of Stratford c. I768 by Samuel Winter. The town was not so very different fTom the one Shakespeare kneu' Above right: South-east prospect of Stratford-uponAvon, I746
16
Introduction
Cambridge man, Dr. John Hall, who had a successful practice in the county round about. Among those he treated was Shakespeare's friend, the poet Drayton, and his own daughter Elizabeth, who did not enjoy good health-and she had no children. With her Shakespeare's own progeny came to an end. In her will she left money to her poor relations, the Hathaways. She had moved to her husband's house, Sir John Barnard's near Northampton; when he died he left instructions for the lumber and books in the old house at Stratford to be destroyed. Alas! Shakespeare's affairs were looked after by his lawyer cousin, Thomas Greene, the town clerk. When he was in London in November 1614 with his son-in-law, Greene notes in his diary, 'at my cousin Shakespeare coming yesterday to town I went to see him how he did', and they discussed the enclosures out at Welcombe and how it would affect the property there. He had never been able to get back his mother's land, which had been mortgaged to the Lamberts, his uncle and aunt. In 1613 he purchased a house within Blackfriars, very convenient for the theatre in which he had invested. A witness to the transaction was the host of the 'Mermaid'another corroboration of what has traditionally come down to us. In that same year we find him designing the impresa, emblem and motto, for the Earl of Rutland's shield for the tilt, and Burbage, who was a good amateur painter, making and painting it. Rutland had belonged to the Essex-Southampton party, and the family had connexions with the Burbages through owning the land where the original Theatre had been built. Shakespeare's youngest brother, Edmund, also an actor, died in Southwark in December 1607, where he was given a good funeral in the big church, 'with a forenoon knell of the great bell'. We may guess who paid for this. His own time came somewhat unexpectedly, for when he made his will in March 1616, he was 'in perfect health and memory, God be praised'. It gives us a corroborative picture of the man, it is so full of neighbourly bequests to relatives, friends and their children. His religious belief was, as all his work shows, that of a conforming churchman of the time: 'I commend my soul into the hands of God my Creator, hoping and assuredly believing through the only merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour to be made partaker of life everlasting.' The bulk of his property in Stratford and London went to Susanna, who had for some time run the household; by a kindly thought he reserved the second best bed for his widow-Susanna and her husband would need the best big one. His 'Fellows' of the Company were remembered: 'John Heming, Richard Burbage, and Henry Condell, 26s Sd apiece, to buy them rings'; the house in Black-
Introduction
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
SeleO Obforvatiolt! . O~
ENGLISH
:BODIES:i . OR, ;
1
: Cures both Emperic.tU and I
I :
HiftOriCaIJ" performed up. on .,cry Cillinent P,r.
II
IOns in dcfl,:ra:::
I
Th!"eafc5.
, Firll, written in Latine ( I
by Mr. 1"bn H.11 Phylician, I living at Srrllf!,IrJupon AWM
Far left: The case-book of Dr John Hall, husband of Shakespeare's daughter, Susanna Left: This fXJrtrait is thought to represent Elizabeth Hall, Shakespeare's granddaughter, u:ith her first husband Thomas Nash
in WIlnricll..-(hjr" where be was vcry famous, as alfo in lht· CounticsadjlCCO', asapp'ea~tS by thefe Obfcryationi
(frawn out of feyerall hun-
dreds of hi~, as cboylett. i
----------------
- ---------
Now ~t into EnglHb for coml nv,n benefit by Cookt I Prafritioner in P'blJiclr.. and ! Chi;lIf'l,trl'
JIUHt!
!
.
!: G.t.,I1.,/ L!IJ~9n,;rint~,d :or !.~ sf:m~f)" at th= J c.!,., 1.•. t.t-7:f'lla.?I. 16J7
----.
III
.
friars went ,....ith the rest of the property to Susanna. It is the will of a Stratford man who had made his money in the theatre in London, but whose loyalties and family pride were in his native town. Here he died on 23 April 1616. The whole world knows what he looked like, even from the inadequate representations of him that have come down to us. Few men have equalled the grand St. Paul's dome of that cranium; other features also speak to us, the rather sensual nose, the mobile, hairless cheeks of an actor, the sensitive, sensuous nostril al1d small mouth, the large and luminous eyes full of intelligence and observation. A fair monument, from a Southwark workshop, was shortly erected to him in the familiar church; and the county historian, Sir \"illiam Dugdale, almost immediately claimed distinction for Stratford-upon-Avon in that 'it gave birth and sepulture to our late famous poet, \\'illiam Shakespeare'. His real monument, however, was the great Folio volume of his plays which came out in 1623. This was an enormous and complicated undertaking, unprecedented except for the tribute Ben Jonson paid to himself by publishing his W01·ks in 1616. Now he lent a hand to the much bigger undertaking of assembling all the plays of the Master from the playbooks of the Company, comparing them with printed versions that had appeared, etc. 'Vhat an undertaking it was! It necessitated the co-operation of several printers and publishers, under the direction of Shakespeare's Fellows, Heming and Condell. For it was an enterprise of the Company, a quite exceptional tribute, 'only to keep the memory of so worthy a friend and Fellow alive as ,vas our Shakespeare'. And what reason the world has to be grateful to all those who took part in the joint undertaking; for, without it, we should have only half of his plays, some of them in very unsatisfactory shape. It was left to Ben Jonson, who knew best, to say that 'he was for all time'. 17
Shakespeare's Comedies
DR. JOHNSON, greatest of Shakespearean critics-for there we have a mind on a level with the author he is criticising-obsen·ed that comedy \vas what first came naturally to Shakespeare. Comedy was instinctive with him; he had to work, the deepening experience of life aiding, towards tragedy. 'In his comic scenes, he seems to produce without labour what no labour can improve.' This was, of course, in keeping with his nature, as Robert Greene and John Aubrey observed, and as he described himself in the character of Berowne: but a merrier man ... I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest. His earlier comedies are full of merriment and give an impression of a happy nature. They are running over with high spirits, one sees it in the \,"it-combats, the verbal quibbles and endless punning which appealed so much to Elizabethans. This aspect of his genius helped him to gain popularity with them-the 'facetious grace' to which Chettle paid tribute. It is the one aspect that has dated most and appeals least to us. What, then, was the nature of his contribution to comedy, what was its character, and how did it differ from others? It is not easy to state briefly, for this author was above all so Protean, so various and diverse, as well as diverting. We may diagnose that his first essential contribution to Elizabethan comedy \vas to shape it up, give it shapely dramatic form. Hitherto comedies, rather rustic and rude, however lively, were apt to be wanting in form-indeed much of the traditional drama in every kind was apt to be shapeless. This was not true of the courtly comedy of Lyly, from whom Shakespeare learned. In observing his development we must pay attention to what Ben Jonson tells us, who knew him so well: how far thou didst our Lyly outshine, Or sporting Kyd, or ::\IIarlowe's mighty line.
Opposite: Frontispiece to Comedies volume, The Complete Works of Shakespeare edited by J. O. HaUiwell, I853
19
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES
Introduction
A portrait belie'ved to be that of Christopher Marlowe, Shakespeare's fellow-dramatist, who was killed in a brawl zn I593
For his comedy he learned much from Lyly, chiefly from Endimion: the banter of Sir Tophas and his page gave the model for that of Armada and Moth; the constables of the watch gave a hint for Dogberry and Verges, as the fairies pinching Corsites black and blue for that of Falstaff in The Merry Wi'ves. Lyly, Kid and Marlowe were the dominant influences upon his early work; but more important was the discipline of the theatre itself. No writer was ever more a man of the theatre-not even Moliere-and he owed his skill in construction, his technique, the sense of the scene, the nucleus from which he worked, to his life's experience as an actor. His poetic power grew with the demands of the theatre for expression. Even more important was his sense of character. Others had that too, notably Jonson; but none of the world's writers has ever had so penetrating or so various a sense of character-from the simplest, most foolish and light-hearted to the most tragic and profound; no writer has created such a gallery of living, memorable characters with such instinctive sympathy and understanding as he. Here is his supreme achievement. Then all is expressed with marvellous virtuosity as to language. He was very lordly about language. The actor's profession doubled his literary facility-one notices the astonishing increase of command from the Sonnets, say, to Troilus and Cress£da or Antony and Cleopatra. His vocabulary was twice that of the normal educated Englishman; but his actor's memory picked up words and phrases from everywhere, as his eye and ear noted 'humours' and characters. 20
Introduction
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES
So his third specific contribution is style, in the widest sense of the term, expressing the mimetic personality of an actor, though with greater literary ambition than he has been credited with. For he was determined to stake his claim as an educated poet, to challenge fame with others, and was recognised as such even by Cambridge dons like Gabriel Harvey. His earliest comedy, like his earliest tragedy, came out of his schooling; Elizabethan scholars took their standard of comedy from Plautus (The Comedy of Errors), and of tragedy partly from Seneca (Titus Andronicus). From the first his creations expressed his own personality; it is not only that he added elements, invented ne'w characters, but suffused the whole with his own atmosphere. \Ve may call it romantic, for it is compounded of emotion and poetry. \Yith Jonson's comedy the appeal is to the intellect, and he saved his poetry for his poetry and tragedy. His comedies are essentially prose works, where in Shakespeare even the prose is poetic. They differ too in the effect of their comedy. Jonson laughs at, and bids us laugh at, his creatures. Shakespeare is subtler and more ambivalent: 'we both laugh at and with his creations. \Vhat ","e owe to his laughter has been well put by an American critic. 'Not only does he laugh as all England laughed, but he believes as all England believes; and no more of the critical spirit is there in him than must needs be in one so well-balanced and sane. And not a single ideal, ethical judgment, or custom of his time does he question .... By choice he accepted life.' The result is that his imagination is the more embracing. He had quite as much wit as Jonson or :.\Ioliere, but the appeal to intellect is narrowing and inhibiting: Shakespeare kept both paths, indeed all possibilities, open. He gives us as searing a portrait of a Pandarus, as complete an exposure of a Parolles or a Lucio, as any intellectual satire could provide. There is plenty to disapprove of in Falstaff, but we are left with the feeling that the old rogue is irresistible. Shakespeare's humour inclines to the kindly. He knew quite as well as Swift the depths and universality of human folly, but, unlike Swift, he gi\'es humanity the benefit of the doubt. In short, Shakespeare's comedy provides a catharsis no less effective than his tragedy: laughter is a release from tensions, a warming of the heart, gives one a feeling of good fellowship with our fellow-men, quite apart from reducing pride and shm'\'ing us a mirror of our less noble selves. It seems certain that justice has never been done-the Yictorians could not face itto the enormously bawdy aspect, and content, of Shakespeare. Yet the salty humour has been a preservati,-e through the centuries, one of the forces that have kept him alive. For sex is a force, indeed the life-force; and Shakespeare is the sexiest, bawdiest of all great writers. ~othing snooping and prurient, just the normal, highly-sexed heterosexual's enjoyment of 'the facts of life'. The more one knows of Elizabethan language the more one appreciates not only the direct fun and frolics, but the constant innuendos and puns with their physical suggestions, laughable, rueful, rollicking. Some of it, no doubt, was for the groundlings and helped his never-dying appeal to his audience; but it is a mistake to put it down merely to the audience, as Robert Bridges did, who as a Victorian aesthete of the purest water, was shocked by it. Silly: such is the nature of life -and without it there would not be life as we know it on the planet. It is absolutely part of the nature of the man, a nature as comprehensive (and comprehending) as any in literature. This is a part of the completeness of his characters: he suggests them to us in the round, instead of restricting them to one humour as in Volpone or Le ;,14.isanthmpe. These are in consequence less j'lteresting, where Shakespeare's characters are openended, leave more to our minds; he followed his intuition and his extraordinary observation of human nature, unlimited by theory, for theorising is always restrictive and 21
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES
Introduction
often inhibiting. Hence the enormous variety of his creations, the many permutations and combinations that exfoliated from a few basic patterns. The elemental situations in life are perhaps few enough, and the emotions involved not many; and so we watch Shakespeare repeating the situations, or the plot, refining upon them, improving, usually elaborating with his own additions to the story, until the prentice-mark of The Two Gentlemen of Verona becomes the masterpiece that is Twelfth Night. The dominant theme is that of love: another reason for regarding his work as 'romantic', going back to traditional romance; love in various aspects and forms, unrequited or requited, frustrated or fulfilled, mistaken or misjudged, competitive, crossed by mischance or magic, rivalled by the power and claims of friendship. Again, as with any real writer, this reflected the man and his experience. Ben Jonson was not interested in love, and he was not successful in marriage. A perceptive critic has written of the progress marked from The Two Gentlemen to Love's Labour's Lost,' 'Valentine's adoration of Silvia was ... a shade "literary", since it was probably due to the dramatist's inexperience at that date of the way gentlemen and ladies actually made love. When he wrote Love's Labour's Lost he had become more intimate with "divers of worship" who stood by him in 1592 ... and after Berowne there was no return to Valentine.' It was very rapid progress that he made from 1592 to 1593: something inspiring, and immediately maturing, had supervened. 'Might there not be something personal behind it after all? About the time the dramatist was composing his Two Gentlemen the poet was beginning to address Sonnet-letters to his friend who, when introduced to the poet's lady, plays the traitor as Proteus does and is freely forgiven as Valentine forgives Proteus. But we "ask and ask".' But we do not need to ask and ask, as Matthew Arnold did; we know: he did not. We tum again to Dr. Johnson for enlightening common sense: 'I am always inclined to believe that Shakespeare has more allusions to particular facts and persons than his readers commonly suppose.' But, of course-as with any real writer; and after two centuries of intensive research into the Elizabethan age we are in a much better position to know. William Shakespeare did not need to read up friendship in Cicero's De
Amiatia. Love's Labour's Lost is altogether more sophisticated because of the personal experience that had supervened the introduction into a cultivated aristocratic circle to which Shakespeare's genius responded with alacrity and which gave him inspiration. He also tells us, in Berowne's famous speech, what he meant by love and why he attached such importance to it: as an enhancement of life, a sharpening of all the senses, of eye, • ear, touch, taste; as inspiration, doubling the powers to achieve, leading men on to conquer new realms of experience. Women's eyes: ' They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. Such faith is, of course, liable to disenchantment; nor did it fail to appear in the sequel -and that experience again goes into the work. All is grist to the dramatist's mill, all his experience is in his work. Hence his knowledge of the human heart, and the force of his expression of it-even when he is at play, as in The Taming of the Shrew, which no one is likely to forget, as they might forget the first two comedies. The Shrew is a very original exercise on the theme of how to tame a woman. There is a stronger element of realism in this play than we usually realise, for the theme was a traditional one in his day, and the actuality is 22
Introduction
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES
reinforced by the Stratford background of the Induction. Shortly came something totally different, a magical play, A 1\,fidsummer Night's Dl"eam. Though this swims in the usual element of love-in this case doubly crossed and led astray, in both human couples and in the Fairy King and Queen-perhaps most memorable are the fairy tale of Beauty and the Beast, transformed into Titania and Bottom, and the recognisable realism of Bottom and his fellows for all that they are caricatured. We perceive that we have to add to the other major elements in Shakespeare's genius the astonishing realism with which he drew 10"'er-class life, for all the caricature, the malapropisms and lapses which he observed in it or with which he endowed it. There is a kind of poetic surrealism in the doubled reality of Lance and his Dog, Bottom the \Vem'er and his rude mechanicals, Dogberry and Yerges, Elbow and Pompey. All this came out of the native tradition-no-one was closer to the heart of it, or had it more at heart, than this \Varwickshireman, from the heart of England. The mixture, still more the bordering of the comic with the tragic, was condemned by Philip Sidney, to whose purely literary impulse Shakespeare owed much. Sidney's pre-judgment was based on the classics; he did not li"e long enough to see the triumphs of the native tradition in the I590's. Again, with the dramatist's instincti"e respect for traditionand what a harvest he reaped from it! - he carried fon"ard and de,'eloped the role of the Fool, clown or jester. This came not only from the earlier forms of drama but from the actual life of great houses-one more realistic stroke. It enabled him to counterpoint the behaviour of the clown's betters with occasional sharp commentary. He distinguishes between the professional clown and the 'country clown', the ordinary rustic simpleton. They are all part of a common humanity: 'Shakespeare was too wise not to know that for most of the purposes of human life stupidity is a most valuable element. He had nothing of the impatience which sharp logical minds habitually feel when they corne across those who do not apprehend their quick and precise deductions.'! Few things are more remarkable than Shakespeare's patience in this direction-such a contrast with Swift at the opposite pole! It belongs to the dramatist's realm of 'negath'e capability'; like Burke, he appreciated the adhesive uses of simplicity, prejudice, stupidity, ordinary human foolishness. A society of rationalist intellectuals (ne"er so rational as they suppose) could ne,'er stick together for long. And what could be more kindly and humane, after the fiasco of Bottom's play, than the comment: 'the best in this kind are but shadmvs, and the worst are no ,,'orse, if imagination amend them.' There, behind the compassionate imagination, is the doubleminded suggestiveness of the man, for it is an epigraph, which holds universally, on his profession. The farcical enters largely into the early comedies. It is usual to disconsider farce, as drama concerned only to excite laughter; but it is absurd to do so, when we have a better appreciation of the cathartic, indeed therapeutic, function of laughter. And \Villfam Shakespeare-with a proper combination of innate modesty and satisfaction in his achie"ement-would be the last person to do so. The Comedy of Errors (except for the original framework into which it is put) is pure farce, as it was enacted that farcical night at Gray's Inn at Christmas 159+ The Taming of the Shreu: is farce, for all that its ending with its moral is serious; not to appreciate that is anachronistic, for it is in keeping with what Elizabethans thought, as usual with Shakespeare. Again, towards the end of this period, The .;.VIelTJ' ~ri~:es of fVindsor, is farce, though again how different: middle-class, bourgeois farce, featuring the townsfolk he knew so well at Stratford, the Fords and Pages as it might be the Quineys and Sadlers-with consequences that might be expected from ha"ing Sir John Falstaff plumped down in the middle of them.
1 Thus Walter Bagehot, himself a sharp logical mind.
23
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES Right: Falstaff under Herne's Oak 'UJith Mistress Ford and Mistress Page, The Merry 'Wives of Windsor. Painting by Robert Smirke R.A. (I75z-I845)
Introduction
'-,•...
.
" , .'f£'" . ,,-'f
,
·1.
Far right: H. Beerbohm Tree, English Edwardian actor, as Malvolz"o in Twelfth Night, I90I. From a painting by Charles A Buchel
For all this, the potentiality of tragedy is implicit in the comedy, as one can see in The Rape of LUC1"ece alongside of the high spirits and comedy of Venus and Adonis (the tragic ending of which has to be taken with a grain of salt: it was intended as a moral for Southampton). The lVIerchant of Venice and A1uch Ado may well be regarded as tragicomedies, something again different, For a considerable part of the action The ;.V/erchant borders on tragedy; and, though the cruder Elizabethans saw Shylock as a comic figure, there is a tragic element in him too-Shakespeare's attitude is ambivalent, as so often. He does not close down on us, as the domineering Ben did: he leaves the matter open, like the enigmatic in Leonardo. As You Like It is different again-nothing tragic in that: it is a romantic pastoral play, for which the dramatist took the hint from Lodge's pastoral novel, Rosalynde. But Shakespeare filled it with his m\'ll feeling for the woodland, his own Forest of Arden (rather than Ardennes), and there are more than the usual personal or autobiographical flecks in it. We must point out that. though the stories sometimes come from Italian sources and the plays are often given an appealing Italian colouring in places and names, they are all indefeasibly English. It is Elizabethan England, town or country, that is portrayed-never more so than in The .'Vlel"chant of Venice. To anyone who knows the ways of the port of London at the time, the merchants and their shipping, their argosies and the risks they took, it is all there. Even the character of Shylock has its contemporary starting point at home in lVIarlowe's Barabas and Dr. Lopez. We observe the development to the last of the romantic comedies in Twelfth Night, filled with music and melancholy. Something of the situation is repeated from The Two Gentlemen, but with what deeper echoes in human nature and fuller, rounder characterisation. Once more there is the typical Shakespearean mixture: the serious and complex theme of love, taking different fonns and at cross-purposes, frustration, misconception, what not-all mitigated by the realism, if caricatured, of Sir Toby Belch and his cronies, and the ambivalent character of Malvolio. (Once more Shakespeare leaves us to think what we will about him-there is no doubt about the others.) In this play Viola appears as a boy for most of the time she is on stage, as again was the heroine of As You Like It. We must never forget how dominant an importance 24
Introduction
SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDIES
casting had for this most practical of dramatists, an actor himself, who lived in and by the theatre. Disguising female characters as boys, in the intrigue of the plot, was a most convenient ploy when the women's parts were taken by boys-and how talented, precocious and well-trained Elizabethan boy-actors were! The actor-dramatist worked with the materials he had at hand, not in the vacuum of the critic. One effect may be seen in the transformation of the role of the Fool ,..-ith the departure of the rumbustious extrovert \Yill Kemp, and the arrival of the introvert, reflective Armin, for whom the parts of Feste, Lavache and the philosophic Fool in Lear 'were written. Eyeryone notices the melancholy with which the theme of lm"e is endued in Twelfth Night; we have the sense that something is ending, as indeed his romantic comedy ends with it. After the \Var of the Theatres of 1600-2, and the horrid experiences in the background that was yet close to Shakespeare-Southampton condemned to death, in the Tower, Essex executed-things were never the same. Shakespearean comedy was oyer, the future lay with Jonson's. "Ve can see something of the influence of the younger master upon the older, always willing to learn from anybody-as he had from Lyly, Kyd, :\Iarlowe. Troilus and Cressida is an extraordinary play by all counts-no wonder 'criticism' has been foiled by it; it is a disturbing, as it is a disturbed, play, by an author whose nerves and temper are on edge. :::\othing of the 'happy', genial Shakespeare in this. Yet, perhaps by the very fact of his being so disturbed, it contains some of his most brilliant writing and profound reflections on society. It also contains some of his most savage-and that is unlike the nature of the man we know: he did not go this way again until he wrote Timon, and, significantly, he left that unfinished. "'ith All's TFell and Jleasllre for Jleasllre we have something different again: they are hardly comedies, though they are brought to happy endings. Again, though they go together, they are quite different. All's Well is a kind of morality; perhaps Shakespeare is harking back to the morality-plays of his youth. At the same time it has a considerable element, which has gone unnoticed, of the autobiographical: close observation and his own experience have gone into it-perhaps too close for aesthetic comfort (for creation, one needs a certain distance). ,\Ye may regard the playas experimental, something new; if so, the experiment was justified in the masterly, and more moving, J1easltre for JleaslIre that followed. This play, for most of its action, borders on the tragic: we are already in the world of the great tragedies.
Far left: William Kemp, the comedian, who left Shakespeare's company in I599 and danced his way from London to Norwich; and (left) Robert Armin, his replacement, a more subtle comedian
25
The Comedy of Errors 1591-2
Background. This is the earliest of Shakespeare's comedies, and it is significant that it was based partly on Plautus, from whom with Terence Elizabethans learned their Latin comedy at school-and grammar school education was largely in Latin. In writing the play Shakespeare was recalling and revivifying what he had learned at school, and had probably used when he taught briefly in a country school. Moreover there is a caricature of a schoolmaster, one of several in his work, in Doctor Pinch. He based his play on the .Yenaechmi (The Trw ~Yen Called .Yenaechmus) of Plautus, and adapted another scene from Plautus' Amphitruo. With characteristic ingenuity he doubled the chief characters, and added more, to add to the confusions of mistaken identity upon which the play pivots.
Gray's Inn Hall, where The Comedy of Errors was performed in December I594
Introduction
THE CO:VIEDY OF ERRORS
Even so, the play is the shortest of all the plays, and ,,'ould have been briefer still in the continuous performance, unbroken by divisions into Acts and Scenes, which Elizabethan plays received, So it ,vas particularly suited to be followed by a jigdancing with gesture and song-as was frequent on the stage, or to provide an item in a sequence of revels, at Christmas time or some festive occasion, We happen to know that it was performed at a Grand Xight at Gray's Inn on 28 December 1594, amid much rowdy junketing that added more confusion to that presented in the play. 'Ve learn that 'after such sports a Comedy of Errors-like to Plautus' .1'vIenaechmi-was played by the players. So that night was begun and continued to the end in nothing but confusion and errors; whereupon it was ever afterwards called "the Xight of Errors". It would seem that there had been an afternoon performance that same Innocents' day before the Queen at Greenwich-we may imagine the barge-ful of players coming up-river .vith the tide to perform again at night, and appreciate how hard-worked the Chamberlain's men were. Shakespeare would have been among them, and at this time Francis Bacon was an active member of the Inn, who took a hand in its entertainmentsthough he could hardly have been a greater contrast to the actor-dramatist, as a son of a Lord Keeper, a known homosexual, a genius in prose, law and science.
Date. The play had been written more than a couple of years earlier, following upon Shakespeare's first popular success with his Henry VI plays. There are contemporary touches that relate it firmly to those early 1590'S, when England had to come to the aid of the Protestant Henry of X ayarre fighting for his legitimate right to succeed Henri III, assassinated in 1589, on the throne of France. In a comic passage comparing England and her neighbours to different parts of the body, a character sees France as 'armed and reyerted, making war against her heir'. Henry of X avarre was the heir to the throne, whom the country as a whole did not accept till 1594, with the surrender of Paris. The use of the word 'heir' is perfectly understandable, if loosely used: there is no point in arguing about it. Shakespeare was not writing a piece of historical research and neyer bothered about that kind of thing. The reference was perfectly clear to the audience. America and the Indies are named for the treasure of which Elizabethans were so em'ious, 'declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadas of carracks'. Here is a reference to the quite recent Armada of 1588, Yery fresh in eye~'body's memo~·.
~
--'-"
..-
........
.
I!'"
-T---'---::-
Greemcich Palace where Queen Elizabeth may hU'l.'e witnessed an afternoon J1€lformance of The Comedy of Errors on 28th December I594. Drazcing by Anthony van Wyndgaerde
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Introduction
Ephesus, the setting for The Comedy of Errors. This I9th century engra'ving shows the remains of the Amphitheatre
The passage is underscored-a kind of double talk-by suggestions off-colour or rather bawdy. 'In what part of her body stands Ireland?' 'Marry, sir, in her buttocksI found it out by the bogs.' Ireland was good for a joke, or rather more than a joke, to the Elizabethans, as today, Scotland is characterised by her barrenness, 'hard in the palm of the hand': the country was poor, and therefore penurious. 'Where stood Bdgia, the Netherlands?' '0, sir, I did not look so low!'-with appropriate gestures. It is Shakespeare allover, even thus early. Moreover, behind Ephesus and Syracuse, the top-dressing or colouring of the play, we find as usual the contemporary scene familiar to the audience. The action is set going by the trade dispute between Ephesus and Syracuse, placing an embargo on all traffic between them; an old merchant has been caught in the conflict, in the enemy town, and condemned to death. The enmity and discord which of late Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your Duke To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, Who, wanting guilders to redeem their lives, Have sealed his rigorous statutes with their bloods. In the circumstances of the long-continuing war with Spain Elizabethans were all too familiar with trade-embargoes and their consequences. The old trade with Spain was disrupted; there had been a prolonged embargo on trade between England and her chief market abroad, the Netherlands, when the Duke of Alva ruled there-and that this was at the back of Shakespeare's mind shows itself in the word 'guilders'.
Contemporary touches. The real life of the age is revealed in many touches, obvious
Introduction
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
to those instructed in it. The foreign merchant visiting the city tells his man that till dinner-time I'll view the manners of the town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, And then return and sleep within mine inn. We are reminded of the visit of Xavarre's follower, the Duc de Biron, in 1600 when Sir Walter Ralegh conducted him round the sights of London, and to Westminster to view the tombs in the Abbey, etc. Far more important is the atmosphere of witchery in which the characters think themselves caught, so great is the confusion between their crossed identities and crosspurposes: they are driven almost to doubt their own identity. They say this town is full of cozenage: As, nimble jugglers that decein the eye, Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, Soul-killing witches that deform the body, Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such-like liberties of sin. This is recognisably Elizabethan London-as we see it revealed nakedly, for example, in 'Dr.' Forman's Case-Books. And we must always remember that witchery and being bewitched were ever-present and ready to Elizabethan minds, increasing the impact and probabilism of a play so improbable in its action to us. We do not have to go, with some literary commentators, to St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians when we know the facts of life in Elizabethan London. Even the reference to Lapland sorcerersSure, these are but imaginary wiles, And Lapland sorcerers inhabit hereis a commonplace of the voyagers to Russia by the X orthem sea-route, reported in Hakluyt's P"incipal .J.VO'l:igations recently printed, which Shakespeare-like the rapid reader and writer he was-looked into, as we know.
The Play. '\'e do not need to waste time discussing what kind of label to attach to this play-Shakespeare set no store by such pedantry, as he takes the trouble to inform us later in Hamlet. And, of course, in his work he constantly transcended the bounds, and transgressed against the rules, beloved by critics, of dull categories. This, however, is the only play to which the label 'Comedy' is attached, but a great deal of the action is farcical; there is much knock-about, slapstick beating to appeal to the groundlings, and not only to them. But Shakespeare has ginn a romantic setting in the story of the aged merchant, Aegeon, the threat to his life, and the resolution into all's well at the end. As QuillerCouch,l a creati,-e writer himself, well understood: 'in this early play Shakespeare already discloses his propensity for infusing romance into each or every "form" of drama: that unique propensity which in his later work makes him so magical and so hard to define.' Exactly, that is the point, and 'Q' drives it home: 'there is no line of demarcation-all such lines, or attempts at them, are a professional humbug of
1 Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, co-editor of the Cambridge Shakespeare
29
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Introduction
Final scene of The Comedy of Errors, Royal Shakespeare Company production, Stratford-uponAvon, I962
criticism.' If this appears too scathing, from a good critic to lesser ones, we may compromise and say simply that categories, rough as they are, are conveniences, to be held as such. The play is by no means empty of content, as people may be misled into thinking with so much farce about. There is the real theme of the strains of marriage, in the discussion between the two sisters, Luciana and Adriana. Whatever it expresses in the strains of Shakespeare's m\'tl married life, with himself so much a\vay from home, living a double life in London, there is always sympathy for the woman's point of view (unlike Marlowe or Ben Jonson): Alas, poor women! make us but belieye, Being compact of credit, that you love usThough others have the arm, show us the sleeve, We in your motion turn, and you may move us. The sympathy shines through the smile of irony. And there is the theme of men's mastery shortly to provide the stuff of The Taming of the ShYe'tv : Why, headstrong liberty is lashed with woe ... Menthis is Luciana speakingAre masters to their females, and their lords.
Personal Touches. Many revealing flecks bring the personality of the author home to us. Several references to hunting the deer and the hounds bring this out-of-doors countryman before us, and corroborate what we know of him externally. We recognise the man speaking in so characteristic a thought as The pleasing punishment that women bear; 30
Introduction
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
or the grandiloquence that annoyed Robert Greene in such a phrase as we have already quoted, 'peruse the traders' for simply look them over. A mere line"That needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? -brings the country Wwn of the time vividly before us. Dr. Pinch, the schoolmaster, is also a conjurer: he can exorcise, deliver the poor mixed-up characters out of the confusion in which they are caught. Quite so: for he is a clerk, if not in holy orders yet a reading man. He is described in terms that make one think his part was taken by the lean and skinny Sinkler, who seems to have come along with Shakespeare via Strange's and Pembroke's men to the Lord Chamberlain's Company:
A A A A
a hungry, lean-faced villain, mere anatomy, a mountebank, threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller, needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, living-dead man. This pernicious slave ...
Elizabethans enjoyed that kind of baiting. At the end the complicated confusions of the play are straightened out and all made plain in recognition and reconciliation at the neighbouring abbey. Outside the walls is the melancholy vale, The place of death and sorry execution, Behind the ditches of the abbey here. James Burbage, Lord Chamberlain Hunsdon's man, had built the Theatre-first of London's theatres in the fields by Holywell Priory out beyond Bishopsgate, where Shakespeare lodged later. Here in the melancholy vale were gibbets where hangings took place. All very neighbourly and recognisable to the audience which saw the play there. Oddly enough, the Abbess, who turns out to be Aegeon's long-lost wife, is called Aemilia, the spelling which Shakespeare's Dark Lady affected for herself in publishing her poems years later. He knew her in this crucial year 1592.
Style. The style corroborates what we may call the school character of the play-so much of it is built up on the regular usages in the teaching of rhetoric. Much use is made of im.:entio, i.e. the logical elaboration of an idea, or a conceit, step by step into the structure; and of stichomathia, i.e. dialogue alternating fixedly line by line. Then there is endless punning, which the Elizabethans could not have enough of-and we easily too much. Shakespeare was a dab at this, an adept at word-play like no otheras he describes himself, in LOf.:e's Labour Lost, 'conceit's expositor'. Difficult to put into modern English, this means that he was a virtuoso at word-play, at expressing ideas, notions, conceits. There is much rhyme, as in all the early plays: it came easily to him. Text. The text is a good one, from the First Folio of 1623, fairly certainly from a manuscript of the author, for the speech-prefixes prefer descriptive characters to personal names. This tendency of Shakespeare's points to his thinking practically in terms of characters as they fitted his available cast. There are various small Inconsistencies which need not detain us, since they did not bother Shakespeare.
31
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. SOLINUS, duke of Ephesus. iEGEON, a merchant of Syracuse. ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus {twin brothers, and ANTIPHOLOS f Syracuse' sons to iE~~on and o , iEmllIa. DROMIO of E hesus, {tWin brothers, and at~end DROMIO of S~acuse ants on the two Antipho, luses. BALTHAZAR, II. merchant. ANGELO, a goldsmith. First Merchant, friend to Antipholus of Syracuse.
Second Merchant, to whom Angelo is a debtor. PINCH, a schoolmaster. iEMILIA, wife to .lEgeon, an abbess at Ephesus. ADRIANA, wife to Antipholus of Ephesus. LUCIANA, her sister. LUCE, servant to Adriana. A Courtezan. Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants. SCENE: Ephesus.
e A. bullet beside a text lille indicates an annotation in the opposite colu1Im
ACT I. SCENE I.
A luUl in the DUKE'S pala&6.
EnterDuKE, iEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, andother Attendants. Alge. Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall And by the doom of death end woes and all. Duke. Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more; I am not partial to infringe our laws : The enmity and discord which oflate Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, e Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. 10 eFor, since the mortal and intestine jars 'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, I t hath in solemn synods been decreed, Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, To admit no traffic to our adverse towns: Nay, more, I{ any born at Ephesus be seen At any Syracu.sian marts and fairs; Again: if any Syracusian born
Ephesus. Engra\'ing from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43 8 guilders. The guilder was a Dutch and German silver coin worth about one shilling and eight pence. Such foreign currency was often in circulation in Elizabethan England.
11 intestine jars. Internal quarrels. Opposite,' The Resolution Scene. Engraving by H. Gravelot from Theobald's edition of Shakespeare's works, ~740
33
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act I Scene I Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, 20 His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, - Unless a thousand marks be levied, To quit the penalty and to ransom him. Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; Therefore by law thou art condemn'd to die. Aige. Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, • My woes end likewise with the evening sun. Duke. Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause Why thou departed'5t from thy native home 30 And for what cause thou earnest to Ephesus. Aige. A heavier task could not have been imposed Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: Yet, that the world may witness that my end Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, I'll utter what my sorrow gives me leave. In Syracusa was I born, and wed -Unto a woman, happy but for me, And by me, had not our hap been bad.
Aegeon, Solinus and attendants. William Poel's production at Gray's Inn Hall, London, 1895
22 marks. Worth thirteen shillings and four pence in Shakespeare's day.
Z8 evening sun. This reference defines the play's timespan.
38-39 happy . . . our hap been bad. This can be paraphrased: 'happy except in me; and who would have been happy in me, too, had we not had a misfortune'.
42 Epidamnum. The setting of Menaechmi was in this town on the Adriatic in what is now Albania. factor's. The factor was a commercial agent.
43 at randum. Untended. 19 not meanly. Not a little.
75 delays. i.e. from death. 77
34
our
boat. The ship's boat.
With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased 40 By prosperous voyages I often made -To Epidamnum; till my faCtor's death • And the great care of goods at random left Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: From whom my absence was not six months old Before herself, almost at fainting under The pleasing punishment that women bear. Had made provision for her following me And soon and safe arrived where I was. There had she not been long but she became 50 A joyful mother of two goodly sons; And, which was strange. the one so like the other As could not be distingui3h'd but by names. That very hour and in the self-same inn ./4 meaner woman was delivered Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: Those, for their parents were exceeding poor, I bought and brought up to attend my sons. -My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, Made daily motions for our home return: 60 Unwilling I agreed; alas ! too soon We came aboard. A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd. Before the always wind-obeying deep Gave any tragic instance of our harm : But longer did we not retain much hope: For what obscured light the heavens did grant Did but convey unto our fearful minds A doubtful warrant of immediate death: Which though myself would gladly have embraced, Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, 7I Weeping before for what she saw must come, Ana piteous plainings of the pretty babes, That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, -Forced me to seek delays for them and me. And this it was, for other means was none: -The sailors sought for safety by our boat, And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: My wife, more careful for the latter-born, Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, 80 Such as seafaring men provide for storms ; To him one of the other twins was bound, Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: The children thus disposed, my wife and I, Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast;
.-\ct I Scene I And floating- straight, obedient to the stream, Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, Dispersed those vapours that offended us ; 90 And, by the benefit of his wished light, The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered Two ships from far making amain to us, Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this : But ere they came,-O, let me say no more! Gather the sequel by that went before. Duke. Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so: For we may pity, though not pardon thee. Alge. 0, had the gods done so, I had not now Worthily term'd them merciless to us! 100 For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, We were encounter'd by a mighty rock; Which being violently borne upon, Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; So that, in this unjust divorce of us, Fortune had left to both of us alike What to delight in, what to 'iOrrow for. Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, Was carried with more speed before the wind; 110 And in our sight they three were taken up By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. At length, anotheT ship had seized on us; And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; And would have reft the fishers of their prey, Had not their bark been very slow of srul; And therefore homeward did they bend their course. Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss, That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, 120 To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. Duke. And, for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, • Do me the favour to dilate at full What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. • A£ge. My YOU1lgest boy, and yet my eldest care, At eighteen years became inquisitive After his brother: and importuned me That his attendant-so his case was like, Reft of his brother, but retain'd his nameMight bear him company in the quest of him : • \Vhom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, 131 I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought Or that or anv place that harbours men. Eut here must end the story of my life; And happy were I in my timely death, Could all my travels warrant me they live. 140 Duke. Hapless lEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd To bear the extremity of dire mishap! Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, Which princes, would they, may not disannul, My soul should sue as advocate for thee. But, though thou art adjudged to the death And passed sentence may not be recaU'd But to our honour's great disparagement,
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
The Rescue of Aemilia from the Francis Wheatley (17.47-1801)
Shipwre~. Paintin~ by
123 dilate, Describe. 125 youngest boy. According to an earlier line the mother took the younger boy. Such inconsistencies, however, would not be noticed on stage.
131-132 lVhom uhilst , .. 1 IO'l.'ed, This can be explained: 'while he strove to see the lost twin out of love for him, he hazarded the loss of the other, whom he also lo,·ed' .
35
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act I Scene II
SD Enter . .. DROMlO. This is the name of a servant in John Lyly's Mother Bombie, printed in 1594, but acted probably some years before. Shakespeare may have borrowed the name from this play, although 'Dromo' is the name given to a slave in several of Terence's comedies.
Yet I will favour thee in what I can. %50 Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day To seek thy life by beneficial help: Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus: Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. Gaoler!. take him to thy custody. Gao I will, my lord . .dige. Hopeless and helpless doth lEgeon wend, But to procrastinate his lifeless end. [Exeunt. ScENE
II.
The Marl.
Enter A1!lTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant.
An English merchant. Engraving from F. Modius' Gynaeceum, 1586 9 host. Lodge. 11 dinner-time. Between
II
am and
12
n{)on.
18 mean. Opportunity.
32 commend you to your own content. i.e. wish you all you wish for yourself.
First Mer. Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. This very day a Syracusian merchant Is apprehended for arrival here; And not being able to ~uy out his life According to the statute of the town Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. There is your money that I had to keep. - Ant. S. Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. %0 -Within this hour it will be dinner-time: Till that, 1'11 view the manners of the town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings. And then retnrn and sleep within mine inn, For with long travel I am stiff and weary. Get thee away. Dr:;. S. Many a man would take you at your word, -And go indeed, having.so good a mean. [Exit. Ant. S. A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, When I am dull with care and melancholy, . 20 Lightens my humour with his merry jests. What, will you walk with me about the town, And then go to my inn and dine with me? First Mer. I an! invited, sir, to certain merchants, Of whom I hope to make much benefit; I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, Please you, 1'11 meet with yon upon the mart And afterward consort you till bed-time: My present business calls me from you now. Ant. S. Farewell till then: I will go lose myself 30 And wander up and down to view the city. _ First Mer. Sir, I commend you to your own content. [Exit. Ant. S. He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. 40 Enter DROMIO of Ephesus. Here comes the almanac of my true date. What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? Dro. E. Retum'd so soon! rather approach'd too late:
Act I Scene II The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, The clock hath struck en twelve upon the bell; My mistress made it one upon my cheek: She is so hot because the meat is cold; The meat is cold beeause you come not home; You come not home because you have no stomach; You have no stomach having broke your fast; But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray 51 Are penitent for your default to-day. Ant. S. Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, 1 pray: Where have you left the money that I fave you? Dro. E. O,-sixpence, that 1 had 0 Wednesday last eTo pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? The saddler had it, sir; 1 kept it not. Ant. S. I am not in a sportive humour now: Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? We being strangers here, how darest thou trust So great a charge from thine own custody? 61 Dro. E. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner: el from my mistress come to you in post; If 1 return, I shall be post indeed, For she will seore your fault upon my pate. eMethinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock And strike you home without a messenger. Ant. S. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? 70 Dro. E. To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. Ant. S. Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. Dro. E. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart eHome to your house, the Phrenix, sir, to dinner: My mistress and her sister stays for you. Ant. S. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, Or I shall break that merry seonce of yours That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: 80 \Vhere is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? Dro. E. I have some marks of yours upon my
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
5& crupper. Leather strap securin~ a horse's saddle.
63-64 in post . .. post. 'In post' means in haste; the 'post' was the door post on which tavern reckonings were scored (scratched).
66 maw. Belly. 75 the Phoenix. The house and also the shop of the merchant, Antipholus of Ephesus, identified by the sign of the phoenix.
The sign of the phoenix. Woodcut from Libellus Natura Animalium, I5th century bestiary
97 cozenage. Cheating. 97-105 They say this town . .. is not safe. This passa~e owes something to Acts xix where the magical practices of Ephesus are mentioned.
Some~y mistress' marks upon my shoulders, But not a thousand marks between you both. If 1 should pay your worship those again, Perchance you will not bear them patiently-. Ant. S. Thy mistress' marks? what mIstress, slave, hast thou? Dro. E. Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phcenix: She that doth fast till XOU come home to dinner And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. Ant. S. What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, 91 Being forbid 1 There, take you that, sir knave. Dro. E. What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! Nay, an you will not, sir, 1'11 take my heels. [Exit.
Ant. S. Upon my life, by some device or other The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. e They say this town is full of cozenage, As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, 37
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act II Scene I Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, Soul-killing witches that deform the body, 100 DisitUised cheaters, prating mountebanks, And many such-like liberties of sin: If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: I greatly fear my money is not safe. [Exit. ACT II. SCENE 1. Tke house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
Mrs Herbert Morris as Adriana in William Poel's production at Gray's Inn Hall, London, 1895 3 two o'clock. I twas
12 noon
in the previous scene.
16-24 There's nothing . .. their lords. These lines are derived from certain biblical pass.ages.
Mrs Charles Wyllie as Luciana in William Poel's production, Gray's Inn Hall, London, 1895
Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. A dr. Neither my husband nor the slave re· tum'd, That in such haste I sent to seek his master! - Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. Luc. Perhaps some merchant hath invited him And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. Good sister, let us dine and never fret: A man is master of his liberty: Time is their master, and when they see time They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. A dr. Why should their liberty than ours be moreY 10 Luc. Because their business still lies out 0' door. Adr. Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. Luc. 0, know he is the bridle of your will. A dr. There's none but asses will be bridled so. Luc. Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. -There's nothing situate under heaven's eye But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: The beasts, the fishes and the winged fowls Are their males' subjeCl:s and at their controls: Men, more divine, the masters of all these, 20 Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, Indued with intelleCl:ua1 sense and souls, Of more pre-eminence than fish and fowls, Are masters to their females, and their lords: Then let your will attend on their accords. A dr. This servitude makes you to keep unwed. Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. Adr. But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. Luc. Ere I !earn love, I'll practise to obey. A dr. How if your husband start some other where? 30 Luc. Till he come home again, I would forbear. A dr. Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; They can be meek that have no other cause. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burden'd with like weight of pain, As milch or more we should ourselves complain: So thou, that hast nO unkind mate to grieve thee, With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me; But, if thou live to see like right bereft, 40 This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. Luc. Well, I will marry one day,- but to try. Here comes your man; nOw is your husband nigh.
A dr.
Enter DROMIO of Ephesus.• Say, is your tardy master nOw at band?
Act II Scene I
Dro. E. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness.. A dr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? Dro. E. Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Lue. Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? 51 Dro. E. Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his blows ; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce understand them. A dr. But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he hath great care to ple.ase his wife. - Dro. E. Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. A dr. Horn-mad, thou VI1lain! Dro. E. I mean not cuckold-mad; But, sure, he is stark mad. When I desired him to come home to dinner, 60 He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: "Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; •My gold!' quoth he: • Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: 'Willyou come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he, , Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' 'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: , My mistress, sir,' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress I' Lue. Quoth who? Dro. E. Quoth my master: 'JO , I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mIstress.' -So that my errand, due unto my tongue, I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. Ad,... Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. Dro. E. Go back .again, and be new beaten home? For God's sake, send some other messenger. A dr. Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. Dro. E. And he will bless that cross with other beating: Between you I shall have a holy head. 80 A dr. Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. Dro. E. Am I so round with you as you with me, That like a football you do spurn me thus? You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. [Exit. LUI:. Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! - A dr. His company must do his minions grace, Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. Hath homely age the alluring beauty took From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: go Are my discourses dull? barrell my wit ? If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard : Do their gay vestments his affeCtions bait? That's not my fault: he's master of my state:
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
.( .., ~ ..,.., ~y "'"
Costume design for Adriana by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934
57 hom-mad. :\Iad with rage (as of animals ready to attack with their horns); but the phrase quibbles on the anger of a cuckold.
72-73 Illy el7alld ... UPO'l my shoulders. i.e. I carried back on my shoulders (as a beating) the message (errand) that should have been given to me to deliver by word.
87 milliolls. :\Iistresses, paramours.
39
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act II Scene II
98 fair. Beauty.
100 pale. Fence. 101 stale. Plaything.
107 alone, alone. The general sense is either 'I would not mind if he kept the chain' or 'I wish that he would keep his love to himself' . 109-115 I see . .. and weeping die. As 'jewel' refers to Antipholus, Adriana seems to say that although he wastes his outward attractions with other women, his true value as a husband cannot be affected by falsehood or corruption. 2-5 the heedful slave ... at fost. Antipholus seems to be saying that he cannot find Dromio, who has not stayed at the inn, working out where he might be on the host's advice.
What ruins are in me that can be found, By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground • Of my defeatures. My Mcayed fair A sunny look of his would soon repair: • But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale 100 • And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. Luc. Self-harming jealousy I fie, beat it hence! A dr. Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. I know his eye doth homage otherwhere : Or else what lets it but he would be here! Sister, you know he promised me a chain; • Would that alone, alone he would detain, So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! • I see the jewel best enamelled Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, 110 That others touch, and often touching will t We.ar gold: and no man that hath a name, By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. Since that my beauty cannot please his eye., I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. Luc. How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
[Jixmnt.
SCENE
II. A jublic jlace.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up .Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out By computation and mine host's report. I could not speak with Dromio since at first I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes.
Dromio of Syracuse being beatep by Antipholus of Syracuse. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The W01'ks of Shakspere, 1846
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. How now, sir! is your merry humour alter'd? As you love strokes, so jest with me again. You know no Centaur? you received no gold? Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? 10 My house was at the Phrenix? Wast thou.mad, That thus so madly thou didst answer me ? Dro. S. What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? Ant. S. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Dro. S. I did not see you since you sent me hence, Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. S. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. Dro. S. 1 am glad to see you in this merry vein: 20 What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. Ant. S. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. [Beating kim. Dro. S. Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: Upon what bargain do you give it me? Ant. S. Because that I familiarly sometimes Do use you: for my' fool and chat with you, Your sauciness will jest upon my love And make a common of my serious hours. When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, 30 But creep in crannies when he hides his beaUL'\.
Act II Scene II - If you will jest with me, know my aspeCt And fashion your demeanour to my looks, -Or I will beat this method in your sconce. Dro. S. Sconce call you it Yso you would leave battering, I had rather have it a head: an you use these blows long, I must get a sconce for my head and insconce it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. But, I pray, sir, why am I beaten? 40 A"t. S. Dost thou not know? Dro. S. Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. Ant. S. Shall I tell you why? Dro. S. Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath a wherefore. A"t. S. Why, first,-for fiouting. me; and then, wherefore,For urging it the second time to me. Dro. S. Was there ever any man thus beaten ou t of season, When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme nor reason? Well, sir, I thank you. SO Ant. S. Thank me, sir! for what? Dro. S. Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. Ant. S. I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for something But say, sir, is it dinner-time? Dro. S. No, sir: I think the meat wants that I have. Ant. S. In good time, sir; what's that' - Dro. S. Basting. Ant. S. Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. 60 DrD. S. If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. Ant. S. Your reason t Dro. S. Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another dry basting. Ant. S. Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a time for all things.. Dro. S. I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. A "t. S. By what rule, sir? Dro. S. Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald pate of father l'ime himself. 71 Ant. S. Let's hear it. Dro. S. There's no time for a man to recover his hair that grows bald by nature. Ant. S. May he not do it by fine and recovery? Dro. S. Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the lost hair of another man. Ant. S. Why is Time such a niggard of hair, 79 being, as it is, so plentiful an excrement? Dro. S. Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; and what he hath scanted men in hair he h.'lth given them in wit. Ant. S. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. _ Dro. S. Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. Ant. S. Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. Dro. S. The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: _yet he loseth it in a kind of jollity. 90 Ant. S. For what reason? Dro. S. For two; and sound ones too. Ant. S. Nay, not sound, I pray you. Dro. S. Sure ones then. Ant. S. Nav, not sure, in a thing falsing. Dro. S. Certain ones then.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
32 aspect. In astrology, the relative positions of the planets (their aspects) were thought to influence an individual's behaviour. 34 sconce. This word meant I) a head, 2) a small fort (subject to battering), 3) a screen or shelter. 59 Basting. Be-ating (used punningly).
85-86 he hath the wit to lose his hair. This is probably an allusion to the consequences of syphilis. Dr. Johnson noted: 'those who have more hair than wit are easily entrapped by loose women, and suffer the consequences of lewdness, one of which, in the first appearance of the disease in Europe, was the loss of hair'. 90 jollity. i.e. through sexual pleasure.
41
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act II Scene II
99 ti17:lIg. Dressing his hair. tile)'. i.e. his hair.
100 prm"idge. Soup. 110 baLd. Trivial. foolish.
125 hetter /XIrt. This could refer either to or to his best qualitil.'S. possibly both.
11
man's soul
138 staill'd skill. The brow prm·erbially indicated character. especially shame or guilt.
149 Plead YOII to me,jair dame? A memorable production of the play ~It Stratford-upon-Avon. 1962. directed by Clifford \Villiams. was full of new stresses-especially when Alec :\!IcCowen (Antipholus of Syracuse). after listening to thirty-seven lines of fen·ent blank verse by Adriana, said in bewilderment: 'Plead you to me, fair dame?'
Antipholus of Syracuse: 'Plead you to me .. .' Engraving by H. Fuseli from George Steevens' The Plays oj William ShaksfJ€are, 1805
42
Ant. S. Name them. Dro. S. The one, to save the money that he e spends in tiring; the other that at dinner they e should not drop in his porridge. 100 Ant. S. You would all thiS time have proved there is no time for all things. Dro. S. Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair lost by nature. A1It. S. But your reason was not substantial, why there is no time to recover. Dro. S. Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore to the world's end will have bald followers. e Ant. S. I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: Bu t, soft! who wafts us yond er ? III Elller ADRIANA a1ld LUCIANA.
A dr. Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspe& ; I am not Adriana nor thy wife. The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow That never words were music to thine ear, That never object pleasing in thine eye, That never touch well welcome to thy hand, That never meat sweet-savour'd in thy taste, Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. 120 How comes itnow, my husband, 0, how comes it, That thou art thus estranged from thyself? Thyself I call it, beinlt strange to me, That, undividable, incorporate. eArn better than thy dear self's better part. Ah, do not tear away thyself from me ! For know, my love, as easy mayst thou fall A drop of water in the breaking gulf And take unmingled thence that drop again, Without addition or diminishing, 130 As take from me thyself and not me too. How dearly would It touch thee to the quick., Shouldst thou but he.ar I were licentious And that this body, consecrate to thee, By ruffian lust should be contaminate! Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me And hurl the name of husband in my face eAnd tear the stain'd skin offmv harlot-brow And from my false hand cut tlie wedding-ring And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? 140 I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; My blood is mingled with the crime of lust : For if we two be ·one and thou play false, I do digest the poison of thy flesh, Being strumpeted b'y thy contagion. Keep then fair league and truce with thy true bed; I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. e Ant. S. Plead you Lo me, fair dame? I know you not: In Epheslls I am but two hours old, 150 As strange unto your town as to your talk ~ Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd. Want wit in all one word to understand. Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you I When were you wont to use my sister thus·? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. Ant. S. By Dromio! Dro. S. By me?
Act II Scene II
A dr. By thee; and this thou dicist return from him, That he did buffet thee and in his blows roo Denied my house for his, me for his wife. Ant. S. Did you converse. sir, with this gentlewoman? e What is the course and drift of your compaCt? Dro. S. I, sir? I never saw her till this time. Ant. S. Villain, thou liest; for even her very words Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. Dro. S. I never spake with her in all my life. A tit. S. How can she thus then call us by our names? Unless it be by inspiration. A dr. How ill agrees it with your gravity 170 To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. e Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: eThou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, \Vhose weakness married to thy stronger state Makes me with thy strength to communicate: If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss: ISo Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion lnfed thy sap and live on thy confusion. Ant. S. To me she speaks: she moves me for her theme: '\That, was 1 married to her in my dream? Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? What error drives our eyes and ears amiss! U nti! I know this sure 1.\Ucertainty, I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. L'lC. Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. Dro. S. 0, for my beads! I cross me for a 190 sinner. This is the fairy land: 0 spite of spites! We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: If we obey them not, this will ensue, They'll suck our breath or pinch us black and blue. LtIC. Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug. thou sot!
Dro. S. I am transformed. master, am I not! Ant. S. I think thou art in mind, and so am J. DrtJ. S. Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. Ant. S. Thou hast thine own form. Dro. S. No, I am an ape. 200 Luc. If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. e Dro. S. 'Tis true: she rides me and I long for grass. 'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be But I should know her as well as she knows me. Adr. Come. come, no longer will I be a fool, To ~ut the finger in the eye and weep. WhIlst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. Cotne, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate Husband, I'll dine aoove with you to-day eAnd shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. 210 Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, Say he dines forth and let no creature enter. Come. silter. Dromio, play the porter welL
THE CO;\t1EDY OF ERRORS
163 course and drift. These two words have the SlIme meaning 'gist'. compact. Agreement. 175 sleeve. This seems more appropriate to the doublet of Shakespeare's time than to a Roman garment. 176-182 Thou art an elm . .. thy confusion. References to the training of vines on elm trees are found in the Bible, in proverbs and in Ovid's iWetafIWrphoses. The last was Shakespeare's likely source since here the image occurs in a passage dealing with marriage.
lmprint~atI..mtdonby w..8ens•.
. , .~If:"< Title page of the XV book of Ovid's Metamorphoses translated by Arthur Golding, 1575 202 for grass. For freedom. 210 shrn:e ),011. Forgive you.
43
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act III Scene I Ant. S. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell! Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? . Known unto these, and to myself disguised! I'll say as they say and persever so And in this mist at all adventures go. Dro. S. Master, shall I be porter at the gate! A dr. Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. 220 Luc. Come, come., Antipholus, we dine too late. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.
Before tlte kouse of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
E,tter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR.
Costume desiill for the Dromios by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934 4 carcanet. Necklace set with jewels. Z8 cates. Delicacies.
Ant. E. Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: Say that I linger'd with you at your shop - To see the making of her carcanet And that to-morrow you will bring it home. But here's a villain that would face me down He met me on the mart and that I beat him And charged him with a thousand marks in gold And that I did deny my wife and house. Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? 10 Dro. E. Say what you will, sir, but I know wnat I know; That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. Ant. E. I think thou art an ass. Dro. E. Marry, so it doth appear By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. I should kick, being kick'd: and, being at that pass, You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. Ant. E. You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer . May answer my good will and your good welcome here. 20 Bal. I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your welcome dear. Ant. E. 0, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, A table full of welcome makes scarce one daInty dish. Bal. Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. Ant. E. And welcome more common: for that's nothing but words. Bal. Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. Ant. E. Ay to a niggardly host and more sparing guest: -But though my cates be mean, take them in good part;
Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. But, soft! my door is 1o,ck'd. Go bid them let us in. 30 44
Act III Scene I DYo. E. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn! • Dro. S. [WitAin] Mome, mAlt-horse, capon, coxcomb, idiot, patch ! Either get thee from the door or sit down at the hatch. Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st for such store, When one is one too many' Go get thee from the door. Dro. E. Whatpatchismadeourporter? My master stays in the street. • Dro. S. [Witkin] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he catch cold on's feet. Ant. E. Who talks within there? ho, open the door! Dro. S. [WitAin] Right, sir; I '11 tell you when, an you'll tell me wherefore. Ant. E. Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. 40 Dro. S. [Witkinl Nor to-day here you must not; come agam when you may. Ant. E. What art thou that keepest me out from the house lowe! Dro. S. [Witkin] The porter {or this time, sir, and my name is Dromio. Dro. E. 0 villain! thou hast stolen both mi.ne office and my name. • The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, .Thou wouldst have changed thy face {or a name or thy name for an ass. Luce. [Witkin] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those at the gate? Dro. E. Let my_ master in, Luce. Luce. [With;',] Faith, no; he comes too late; And so tell your master. Dro. E. 0 Lord, I must laugh! • Have at you with a proverb-Shall I set in my staff? Luce. [Wit kin] Have at you with another; that's-When? can you tell? Dro. S. [ Witkin] If thy name be caU'd Luce,Luce, thou hast answer'd him well. • Ant. E. Do you hear, you minion? you '11 let us in, I hope? • Luce. [WitkUl] I thought to have asK'd you. Dro. S. [WitMn] And you said no. D,.". E. 5·0, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. Ant. E. Thou baggage, let me in. Luce. [Witkin] Can you tell for whose sake? Dro. E. Mastet', knock the door hard. Luce. [WitkUl] Let him knock till it ache. Ant. E. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. Luce. [WitMn] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? 60 A dr. [ Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all this noise? • Dro. S. [Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with unruly boys. Ant. E. Are you there, wife! you· might have come before. A dr. [Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. • Dro. E. If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore.. A nK. Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would fain have either.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
32 IVlome, ma.lt-horse, capon . .. patch. Mome: blockhead; malt-horse: a heavy dray horse, hence a stupid person; capon: gelded cockerel, therefore, a eunuch; patch: a fool. 37 catch cold on's feet. The Italian proverb 'to have a cold at the feet' meant 'to be forced to sell cheap'. 45 mickle. Great.
47 ThOll wouldst . .. an ass. This line could mean either 'You would have been willing to exchange your face (identity) for someone else's name (so as to avoid blame)" or 'your n.ame for that of an ass (as an acknowledgement of the situation),.
51 Shall I set
m my staff? i.e.
shall I make myself at
home here?
54 minion. Hussy.
55 I tlwught to have ask'd you. A mocking retort. Lyly uses the same expression in :11other Bombie.
Dromio of Ephesus: 'Master, Knock the door hard .. .' Engra\-ing by Kenny :.\1eadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846
62 boys. Fellows (used contemptuously). 65 If you went . .. go sore. Dromio could be saying to his master 'You are the knave she means'; or perhaps 'If you are beaten, I, who am properly a knave (servant), will suffer e\'en more'.
45
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act III Scene I Bal.
The structure sho\\n in the rear of this woodcut of a Terence play suggests how the Elizabethans might have staged a 'within' and 'without' scene. Illustration from The Comedies of Terence, published by Johann Trechsel, 1493
68 They. i.e. Angelo and Balthasar. Dromio is having ajest at his master's expense, since none ofthem can get
in. 71 Your cak.e there. Probably an allusion to Adriana. 'Cake' when used with reference to a woman means 'a delicacy'. 77 hind. Countryman, rustic. 83 pluck a crow together. A proverbial expression meaning 'settle our quarrel'.
102 zmgalled. Unsullied.
"5 chain. i.e. the necklace (carcanet).
In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. e Dro. E. They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. Ant. E. There is something in the wind., that we cannot get in. Dro. E. You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. 70 e Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: It would make a man mad as a buck, to be· so bought and sold. Ant. E. Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. Dro. S. [Witkin] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your knave's pate. Dro. E. A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. e Dro. S. (Within] It seemS th·ou want'st bre.aking: out upon thee, hind! Dro. E. Here's too much ' out upon thee!' I pray thee, let me in. Dro. S. [Witkin] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. Ant. E. Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a 80 crow. Dro. E. A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather: err a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow toyether. Ant. E. Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. Bal. Have patience, sir; 0, let it not be so ! Herein you war against your reputation And draw within the compass of suspect The unviolated honour of your wife. Once this,-your long experience of her wisdom, Her sober virtue, years and modesty, go Plead on her part some cause to you unknown; And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse Why at this time the doors are made against you. Be ruled by me: depart in patience, And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, And about evening come yourself alone To know the reason of this strange restraint. If by strong hand you offer to break in Now in the stirring passage of the day, 100 A vulgar comment will be made of it, And that supposed by the common rout eAgainst your yet ungalled estimation Tnat may with foul intrusion enter in And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; For slander lives upon succession, For ever housed where it gets possession. Ant. E. You have prevail'd: I will depart in quiet, And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry~ I know a wench of excellent discourse, Pretty and witty, wild and yet, too, gentle ~ 110 There will we dine. This woman that I mean, My wife-but, I protest without desertHath oftentimes upbraided me withal: To her will we to dinner. [To Ang".] Get you home eAnd fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made:
Act III Scene II Bring it, I pray you, to the ~ntine ; For ther~ 's the house: that cham will I bestowBe it for nothing but to spite my wifeUpon mine hostess there: good. sir, make haste. Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, 120 I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they '11 disdain me. A ng. I'll meet you at that place some hour hence. .Ant. E. Do so. This jest shall cost me some [Exeunt. expense.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
16 attaint. Disgrace. 18 at bOa/·d. At table.
22 compact of credit. Credulous.
27 to be ... 'win. To utter false words.
30 hit of. Guess at.
II. TJu saln6. Enter LUCIANA and ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Luc. And may it be that you have quite SCENE
forgot A husband's office? shall, Antipholus, Even in the spring of love, thy love-springs rot? Shall love, in building, grow so ruinous? If )"ou did wed my sister for her wealth, Then for her wealth's sake use her with more kindness: Or if you like elsewhere, do it by steal th ; MutHe your false love with some show of blindness : Let not my sister read it in your eye; Be not thy tongue thy own shame's orator; 10 Look sweet, speak fair, become disloyalty; Apparel vice like virtue's harbinger; Bear a fair presence, though your heart be tainted; . Teach sin the carriage of a holy saint; Be secret-false: what need she be acquainted? • What simple thief brags of his own attaint? 'Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed • And let her read it in thy looks at board : Shame"hath a bastard fame, well managed; III deeds are doubled with an evil word. 20 Alas, poor women! make us but believe, • Being compact of credit, that you love us; Though others have the arm, show us the sleeve; We in your motion turn and you may move us. Then, gentle brother, get you in again; Comfort my sister, cheer her, call her wife: .'Tis holy sport to be a little vain, When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. Ant. S. Sweet mistress,-what your name is else, I know not, • Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine,- 30 Less in your knowledge and your grace you show not Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine. Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit. Against my soul's pure truth why labour you To make it wander in an unknown field? Are you a god? would you create me new? Transform me then, and to your power I '11 yield. 40 But if that I am I, then well I know Your weeping sister is no wife of mine, Nor to her bed no homage do lowe: . Far more, far more to you do I del;line. 0, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,
Antipholus of Syracuse (Roger Reese) and Luciana (Francesca Annis). Royal Shakespeare Co, 1976
47
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act III Scene II
Antipholus of Syracuse: 'Sing, siren .. .' Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
51 to die. This was commonly used in reference to an orgasm. 54 mated. Quibbling on the word meaning both 'confounded' and 'partnered (wedded)'. 66 I am thee. i.e. call yourself 'sister' if you wish: it is in you that I have lost my identity. 93 'Sir-reverence'. A corruption of 'save-your-reverence', and used as an apology for saying something offensive. 97 grease. Punning on 'grace', since both words had a similar pronunciation.
To drown me in thy sister's 1Iood of tears: Sing, siren, for thyself and 1 will dote : Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs, And as a bed I'll take them and there lie, And in that gloriQUS supposition think SO e He gains by death that hath such means to die: Let Love, being Hgbt. be drowned if she sink I Ltte. What, are you mad. that you do reason so! • Ant. S. Not mad, but mated: how, I do not know. £1«:.' It is a fault that spring-eth from your eye. Ant. S. For g~ing on your beams, fair SUD, being by. • Lite. Gaze where you should, and that will clear your sight. Ant. S. As good to wink, sweet love, as look on. night. L1«:. Why call you me lave' call my sister s(). Ant. S. Thy sister's sister. L1«:. That's my sister. Ant. S. No; 60 It is thyself, mine own self's better part, Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, My food, my fortune and my sweet hope's aim, My sole earth's heaven and my heaven's claim. Ltte. All this my sister is, or else should be. e Ant. S. Call thyself sister. sweet, for I ;tm thee Thee will I love and with thee lead my life: Thou hast no husband yet nor I no wife. Give me thy band. L1«:. 0, sort, sir I hold you still : I'll fetch my sister, to get her good will. [Exit. 70
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Ant. S. Why, bow now, Dromio! where runn'st thou so fast? Dro. S. Do you know me, sir? am I Dromio? am I your man! am I myself! Ant. S. Thou art Dromio, thou art my man, thou art thyself. Dro. S. I am an ass, I am a woman's man and besides myself. Ant. S. What woman's man? and how besides thyself? 80 Dro. S. Marry, sir, besid.es myself, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will hav~ me. Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee! Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me. Ant. S. What is she! go Dro. S. A very reverent body: ay, such a one as a man may not speak of without he say e ' Sir-reverence.' I have but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a wondrOtlS fat marriage. Ant. S. How dost thou mean a fat marriage 1 Dro. S. Marry, sir, she's the kitchen wench eand all grease; and I know not what use to put her to but to make a lamp of her and run from her by her own light. I wal"rant, her rags and the tanow in them will burn a Poland winter: if she lives till doomsday, she'll hum a week longer than the whole world.
Act III Scene II Ant. S. What complexion is she of? DrtJ. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept: for why, she sweats; a man may go over shoes in the grime 'of it. Ani. S. That's a fault that water will mend. DrtJ. S. No, sir, 'tis in grain; Noah's flood could not do it. At&t. S. What's her name? IIO • DrtJ. S. N ell, sir; but her name and three • quarters, that's an ell and three quarters, will not measure her from hip to hip. Ant. S. Then she bears some breadth? Dro. S. No longer from head to foot than from hip to hip: she is spherical, like a globe; I could find out countries in her. Ant. S. In what part of her body stands Ireland? Dro. S. Marry, sir, in her buttocks: I found it out by the bogs. 121 Ant. S. Where Scotland? DrtJ. S. I found it by the barrenness; hard in the palm of the hand. Ant. S. Where France? • Dro. S. In her forehead; armed and reverted, making war against her heir. Ant. S. Where England? Dro. S. I looked for the chalky cliffs, but I could find no whiteness in them; but I guess it stood in her chin, by the salt rheum that ran between France and it. Ant. S. Where Spain? Dro. S. Faith, I saw it not; but I felt it hot in her breath. Ant. S. Where America, the Indies? Dro. S. Oh, sir, upon her nose, all o'er embellished with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspeCt to the hot breath of • Spain; who sent whole armadoes of caracks to • be ballast at her nose. 141 Ant. S. Where stood Belgia, the Netherlands? Dro .. S. Oh, sir, I did not look so low. To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to me; called me Dromio; swore I was assured to her; told me what privy marks I had about me, as, the mark of my shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my left arm, that I amazed ran from her as a witch: And, I think, if my breast had not been made of faith and my heart of steel, 1 ~o • She had transform'd me to a curtal dog and made me turn i' the wheel. Atzt. S. Go hie thee presently, posHO the road. An if the wind blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in thIS town to-night: If any bark fut forth, come to the mart, Where I wil walk till thou return to me. I f every one knows us and we know none, 'Tis time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone. Dro. S. As from a bear a man would run for life, So fly I from her that would be my wife. [Exit. A1/t. S. There's none but witches do inhabit here; 161 And therefore 'tis high time that T were hence. She that doth call me husband, even my soul Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair sister, Possess'd with such a gentle sovereign grace, Of such enchanting presence and discourse, Hath almost made me traitor to myself: But, lest myself be guilty to self-wrong,
THE COyIEDY OF ERRORS
104 Stcar!. Dark, swarthy.
•
111 Sell. This charactcr is clearly the same person as Luce. Shakespeare altered her name for the sake of the pun on ell and to avoid confusion with Luciana. 112 ell. A measure indicating
It
yards.
126-127 arllled ... her heir. This is a reference to the ci,·il war (in France) between Henry IV and the (Catholic) League. Dr. Johnson also saw an allusion here to the consequences of vcnereal disease: 'By a forehead "armed", he means covered with encrusted eruptions; by "re,·erted", he means ha,·ing the hair turning backward'.
Henry IY of France. Engraving from a painting by Frans Pourbus (1569-1622)
140 armadot'S of caracks. Fleets of merchant ships. 141 ballast. i.e. loaded. 151 curtal dog. Household dog with its tail cut short. tum /' the a·heel. Tread, as dogs often did, a wheel which turned a roasting spit.
49
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act IV Scene I
185 'l:ain. Foolish. 187 shifts. Tricks.
I'll stop mi.ne ears against the mermaid's song.
Enter ANGELO with the chain. Master Antipholus,Ant. S. Ay, that's my name. I70 A 1tff. I know it well, sir: 10, here is the chain. I thought to have ta' en you at the Porpentine : The chain unfinish'd made me stay thus long. A ttt. S. What is your will that I shall do with this ? A nco What please yourself, sir : I have made it for you. Ant. S. Made it for me, si.r! I bespoke it not. AnC. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times you have. Go home with it and please your wife withal; And soon at supper-time 1'11 visit you And then receive my money for the chain. ISo Ant. S. I pral you, sir, receive the money now, For fear 'you ne er see chain nor money more. Ang. You are a merry man, sir: fare you well. [Exit. Ant. S. What I should think of this, I cannot tell : • But this I think, there's no man is so vain That would refuse so fair an offer'd chain. • I see a man here needs not live by shifts, When in the streets he meets such golden gifts. I'll to the mart and there for Dromio stay : If any ship put out, then straight away. [Exit. A
nco
ACT IV. Costume design for the Antipholuses by J. Gower Parks. Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934 22 holp lip. Helped.
ScENE I.
A public place.
E ttter Second Merchant, ANGELO, atui an Officer. Sec. Mer. You know since Pentecost the sum is due, And since I have not much importuned you; Nor now I had not, but that I am bound To Persia and want guilders (or my voyage: Therefore make present satisfaction; Or I'I1 attach you by this officer. Ang. Even just the sum that I do owe to you Is growing to me by Antipholus, And in the instant that I met with you He had of me a chain: at five o'clock IO I shall receive the money for the same. Pleaseth you walk with me down to his house, I will discharge my bond and thank you too.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and DROMIO of Ephesusfrom the couriez4tt's. Off. That labour may you save: see where he comes. A Itt. E. While I go to the goldsmith's house, go thou And buy a rope's end: that will I bestow Among my wife and her confederates, For locking me out of my doors by day. But, soft! I see the goldsmith. Get thee gone: Buy thou a rope and bring it home to me. 20 Dro. E. I buy a thousand pound a year: I buy a rope. [Exit. • Ant. E. A man is well holp up that trusts to you: I promised your presence and the chain; But neither chain nor goldsmith came to me. 50
Act IV Scene I Belike you thought our love would last too long, lf it were chain'd together, and therefore came not. Anc. Saving your merry humour, here's the note How much your chain weighs to the utmost carat, eThe fineness of the gold and chargeful fashion, e Which doth amount to three odd ducats more 30 Than I stand debted to this gentleman: I pray you, see him presently discharged, For he is bound to sea and stays but for it. Ant. E. I am not furnish'd with the present money; Besides, I have some business in the town. Good signior, take the stranger to my house And with you take the chain and bid my wife Disburse the sum on the receipt thereof: .perchance I will be there as soon as you. A 11C'. Then you will bring the chain to hel yourself? 40 Ant. E. No; bear it with you, lest I come not time enough. AnC'. Well, sir, I will. Have you the chain about you? Ant. E. An if I have not, sir, I hope you have; Or else you may return without your money. Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, sir, give me the chain: Both wind and tide stays for this gentleman, And I, to blame, have held him here toO long. Ant. E. Good Lord! you use this dalliance to excuse Your breach of promise to the Porpentine. I should have chid you for not bringing it So But, like a shrew, you nrst begin to brawl. Sec. Mer. The hour steals on; I pray you, sir, dispatch. A ng. You hear how he importunes me ;-the chain! Ant. E. Why, give it to my wife and fetch your money. Ang-. Come, come, you know I gave it you even now. Either send the chain or send me by some token. A"t. E. Fie, now you run this humour out of breath, Come, where's the chain! I pray you, let me see it. Sec. Mer. My business cannot brook this dalliance. Good sir, say whether you'11 answer me or no : 60 If not, I '11 leave him to the officer. Ant. E. I answer you! what should I answer you? Ang. The money that you owe me for the chain. Ant. E. r owe you none till I receive the chain. Ane. You know I gave it you half all hour smce. Ant. E. You gave me none: you wrong me much to say so. A q. You wrong me more, sir, in denying it: Consider how it stands upon my credit. Sec. Mer. Well, officer, arrest him at my suit. Off. I do; a.nd charge you in the duke's name to obey me. 70 A ne. This touches me in reputation.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
29 chargeful. Costly. 30 ducats. Gold coins of several European countries.
",-;"
Costwne desilPl for An~elo by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934
51
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act IV Scene II
78 apparently. Openly. 87 /rallghtage. Baggage. 89 balsamum and aqua-vitae. Balm, aromatic resm: aqua-vitae, spirits.
Compounding a balsam. Woodcut from a broadside in the collection of the Society of Antiquaries
95 'lea/tage. Passage. 110 Dorcsabel. From French Douce et belle, (i.e. sweet and beautiful, applied ironically to Xel\).
Either consent to pay this sum for me Or I attach you by this officer. Ant. E. CoJUient to pay thee that I never had! Arrest me, foolish fellow, if thou darest. Ang'. Here is thy fee; arrest him, officer. I would not spare my brother in this case, elf he should scorn me so apparently. Off. J do arrest you, sir: you hear the suit. Ant. E. I do obey thee till I give thee bail. But, sirrah, you shall buy this sport as dear 81 As all the metal in your shop will answer. Aug. Sir, sir, I shall have law in Ephesus, To your notorious shame; I doubt it not.
Enter DROMIO of Syracuse,/rom tlte !Jay. Dro. S. Master, there is a bark of Epidamnum That stays but till her owner comes aboard eAnd then, sir, she bears away. Our fraughtage, sir, I have convey'd aboard and I have bought eThe oil, the balsamum and aqua-vita:. The ship is in her trim; the merry wind go Blows fair from land: they stay for nought at all But for their owner, master, and yourself. Ant. E. How now!· a madman! Why, thou peevish sheep, WhAt ship of Epidamnum stays for me? e Dro. S. A ship you sent me to, to hire waftage. Ant. E. Thou drunken slave, I sent thee for a rope And told thee to what purpose and what end. Dro. S. You sent me for a rope's end as soon: You sent me to the bay, sir, for a bark. Ant. E. I will debate this matter at more 100 leisure And teach your ears to list me with more heed. To Adriana, villain, hie thee straight: Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk That's cover'd o'er with Turkish tapestry There is a purse of ducats; let her send it: Tell her I am arrested in the street And that shall bail me: hie thee, slave, be gone ! On, officer, to prison till it come. [Exeunt Sec. Mercltant, Angelo, Officer, and Ant. E. Dro. S. To Adriana! that is where we dined, e Where Dow!iabel did claim me for her husband: She: is too big, I hope, for me to compass.. II I Thither I must, although against my will, For servants must their masters' minds fulfil. [Exit. SCENE
II.
TIte house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus.
E1tter ADRIANA and LUCIANA. A dr. Ah, Luciana, did he tempt thee so! Mightst thou perceive austerely in his eye That he did plead in earnest! yea or no ? Look'd he or red or pale, or sad or merrily? What observation madest thou in this case Of his heart's meteors tilting in his face? Lite. First he denied you had in him no right. A dr. He meant he did me none; the more my spite. Luc. Then swore he that he was a stranger h~re.
52
Act IV Scene II A dr. A nd true he swore, though yet forsworn he were. 10 Lltc. Then pleaded I for you. Adr. And what said he? L.tc. That love I begg'd for you he begg'd of me. Adr. With what persuasion did he tempt thy love? L"c. With words that in an honest suit might move. First he did praise my beauty, then my speech. • A dr. Didst speak him fair Y Luc. Have patience., I beseech. A dr. I cannot, nor I will not, hold me still ; My tongue. though nut my heart, shall have his will. • He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; 20 Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind, • Stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Luc. Who would be jealous then of such a one Y No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. A dr. Ah, but I thiBk him better than I say, And yet would herein others' eyes were worse. Far from her nest the lapwing cries away: My heart prays for him, though my tongue do curse. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Here 1 go; the desk, the purse 1 sweet, now, make haste. Ltlc. How hast thou lost thy breath' Dro. S. By nmning fast. 30 A dr. Where is thy master, Dromio? is he well? • Dro. S. No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell. • t A devil in an everlasting garment hath him: One whose hard heart is button'd up with steel: A fiend, a fury, pitiless and rough; A wolf, nay, worse, a fellow all in buff: .A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands The passages of alleys, creeks and narrow lands; • A hound that runs counter and yet draws dry-foot well; One that before the judgement carries poor souls 40 to hell. A dr. Why, man, what is the matter? Dro. S. I do not know the matter: he is 'rested on the case. Ad,.. What, is he arrested? Tell me at whose suit. Dro. S. I know not at whose suit he is arrested well ; But he's in a suit of buff which 'rested him, that can I tell. Will you send him, mistress, redemption, the money in his desk ? A dr. Go fetch it, sister. [Exit Lttciana.] This I wonder at, That he, unknown to me, should be in debt. .Tell me, was he arrested on a band? Dro. S. Not on a band, but on a stronger thing; 50 A chain, a chain! Do you not hear it ring! Ad,.. What; the chain? Dro. S. No, no, the bell: 'tis time that I were gone:
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
.• M"" .
Dro. S.
...
. . c-1
i ··
'. .,1:,a.f ..., ( ,,11,
,
Costume design for Luciana by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934
16 speak him Jair ? i.e. you speak kindly to him?
19 sere. ""ithered.
22 Stigma tical in making. Deformed in appearance. 32 Tartar limbo. i.e. worse thun Christian hell.
33 e't'eriasting garment. Eyerlasting was the name of the material used for the dress of prison officers.
37 back-Jriend, shoulder-clapper. A back friend is a false friend; the reference is to the police officer's clapping a person on the back as he arrests him.
39 drau's dry-Joot. To hunt by the mere scent of the foot.
49 band. Bond. S3
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act IV Scene III
58 Time . .. owes more than he's worth to season. This cryptic line is .usually taken to mean 'there is never time to do all that occasion offers'. '
65 conceit. Thought, or fancy. 11 Lapland sorcereTS. Lapland was noted for sorcery.
I t was two ere I left him, and now the clock strikes one. A dr. The hours come back! that did I never hear. Dro. S. 0, yes; if any hour meet a sergeant, a' turns back for very fear. A dr. As if Time were in debt! how fondly dost thou reason ! • Dro. S. Time is a very bankrupt and owes more than he's worth to season. Nay, he'sa thief too: have you not heard men say, That Time comes stealing on by night and day? 60 If Time be in debt ,and theft, and a sergeant in the way, Hath he not reason to turn back an hour in a day?
Re-enter LUCIANA wit" a purse. Go, Dromio; there's the money, bear it straight, And bring thy master home immediately. • Come, sister: I am press'd down with conceitConceit, my comfort and my injury. [Exeullt.
A dr.
SCENE III. A puOtic place. Map of Europe showinll Lapland. From Orteliull' Epitome to the Theatre cif the World, 1598
13-14 What . .. new-apparelled. The general sense of this could be 'Have you managed to get the sergeant, who resembled old Adam in wearing buff, into another "suit" ?'
18-19 calf's skin . .. Prodigal. An allusion to the fatted calf that was killed for the prodigal son. Dromio also refers to the sergeant's leather coat.
25 sob. A rest given to a horse to allow it to recover its wind.
27 Jets up hisrest. Is determined. 28 morris-pike. Moorish pike.
54
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse. Ant. S. There's not a man I meet but doth salute me As if I were their well-acquainted friend; And every one doth call me by my name. Some tender money to me ; some invite me : Some other give me thanks for kindnesses; Some offer me commodities to buy: Even now a tailor call'd me in his shop And show'd me silks that he had bought for me And therewithal took measure of my body. Sure, these are but imaginary wiles 10 • And Lapland sorcerers inhabit here. Enter DROMIO of Syracuse. Dro. S. Master, here's the gold you sent me • for. What, have you got the piCture of old Adam new-apparelled? Ant. S. What gold is this? what Adam dost thou mean? Dro. S. Not that Adam that kept the Paradise, but that Adam that keeps the prison: he • that goes in the calf's skin that was killed for the Prodigal; he that came behind you, sir, like an evil angel, and bid you forsake your liberty. 20 Ant. S. I understand thee not. Dro. S. No? why, 'tis a plain case: he that went, like a bass-viol, in a case of leather; the man, sir, that, when gentlemen are tired, gives • them a sob and 'rests them; he, sir, that takes pity on decayed men and gives them suits of • durance; he that sets up his rest to do more ex• plaits with his mace than a morris-pike. Ant. S. What, thou meanest an officer? Dro. S. Ay, sir, the sergeant of the band; he that brings any man to answer it that breaks his hand; one that thinks a man always going to bed and says' God give you good rest j' Ant. S. Well, sir, there rest in your foolery. Is there any ship puts forth to-night? may we be gone? Dro. S. Why, sir, I brought you word an hour since that the bark Expedition put forth to-night; and then were you hindered by the
Act IV Scene III • sergeant, to tarry for the hoy Delay. Here eare the angels that you sent for to deliver you. Ant. S. The fellow is distraCt, and 50 am I ; And here we wander in illusions: &>me blessed power deliver us from hence!
Enter a Courtez3n. C(Jur. Well met, well met, Master Alltipholus. I see, sir, you have found the goldsmith now: Is that the chain you promised me to-day? Ant. S. Satan, avoid! I charge thee, tempt me not. Dro. S. Master, is this Mistress Satan? Ant. S. It is the devil. so Dro. S. Nay, she is worse, she is the devil's dam; and here she comes in the habit of a light wench: and thereof comes that the wenches say {God damn me;' that's as much to say 'God make me a light wench.' It is written, they appear to men like angels of light: light is an • effeCt: of fire, and fire will burn; ergo, light wenches will burn. Come not near her. Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir. Will you go with me? We'11 mend our dinner here? 60 Dro. S. Master, if you do, expetl 5poonmeat; or bespeak a long spoon. Ant. S. Why, Dromio? Dro. S. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil. Ant. S. Avoid then, fiend! what tell'st thou me of supping? Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress: I conjure thee to leave me and be gone. Cour. Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner, Or, for my diamond, the chain you promised, 10 And 1'11 be gone, sir, and not trouble you. e Dro. S. Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, A nut, a cherry-stQne; But she, more covetous, would have a chain. Master, be wise: an if you give it her, The devil will shake her chain and fright us with it. Cour. I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain: I hope you do not mean to cheat me so. • Allt. S. Avaunt,thouwitch! Come,Dromio, let us go. 80 Dro. S. ' Fly pride; says the peacock: mistress, that you know. [Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S. Cour. N ow, out of doubt Antipholus is mad, Else would he never so demean himself. A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, And for the same he promised me a chain: Both one and other he denies me now. The reason that I gather he is mad, Besides this present instance of his rage, Is a mad tale he told to-day at dinner, Of his own doors being shut against his entrance. Belike his wife, acquainted with his fits, 91 On purpose shut the doors against his way. My way is now to hie home to his house, And tell his wife that, being lunatic,
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
40 hoy. A small coasting vessel.
41 angels. Gold coins worth up to ten shillings, here having a punning reference.
Courtezan (Vivienne Bennett), Antipholus of Syracuse (John Van Eyssen) and Dromio of Syracuse (John Garley), Royal Court Theatre, London, 1952
56-57 light... u-ill burn. i.e. will infect with venereal disease.
72-74 parings ... cherry-stone. These are objects used in witchcraft.
80 Avaunt. Be off!
55
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act IV Scene IV He rush'd into my bouse aI.d took perforce My ring away. This course I fittest choose : F'or forty ducats is too much to lose. [Exit. . SCENE
IV. A street.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus ana tlte Officer. Ant. E. Fear me not, man; I will not break away: I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, so much money, To warrant thee, as I am 'rested for. My wife is in a wayward mood to-day, And will not lightly trust the messenger. That I should be attach'd in Ephesus, I tell you, 'twill sound harshly in her ears.
Enter DROMIO of Ephesus witk a ropes--end. H ere comes my man; 1 think he brings the money. How now, sir! have you that 1 sent you for? Dro. E. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay them all. 10 Aft!. E. But where's the money? DrtJ. E. Why, sir, 1 gave the money for the rope. Ant. E. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope? Dro. E. I'll serve you, sir, five hundred at the rate. Ant. E. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home? Dro. E. To a rope's-end, sir; and to that end am I returned. Ant. E. And to that end, sir, I will welcome John DUnstal;I8th century English actor, as Dromio of Ephesus, Covent Garden Theatre, London, 1762 40 wont. Is accustomed to. 44-4& 'respice finem' ... rope's end'. There are two jokes here. One is a pun on respice finem i.e. think of your end, and respice Junem i.e. a rope. for hanging. Parrots were taught to cry 'rope'.
. JOu. Op. Good sir, be patient.
[Beating kim.
Dro. E. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient; 1 am in adversity. 21 Off. Good now, hold thy tongue. Dro. E. Nay, rather persuade him to hold his hands. Ant. E. Thou whoreson, senseless villain! Dro. E. I would I were senseless, sir, that I might not feel your blows. Ant. E. Thou art sensible in nothing but blows, and so is an ass. DrtJ. E. I am an ass, indeed; you may prove it by my long ears. I have served him from the hour of my nativity to this instant, and have nothing at his hands for my service but blows. When I am cold, he heats me with beating; when I am warm, he cools me with beating: I am waked with it when I sleep; raised with it when I sit; driven out of doors with it when I go from home; welcomed home with it when I return: nay, I bear it on my shoulders, as a .beggar wont her brat; and, I think, when he hath lamed me, I shall beg with it from door to door. Ant. E. Come, go along; my wife is coming yonder.
Enter
the Courtezan, and PINCH. • Dro. E. Mistress,' respice finem: respeCt your end; or rather, tthe prophecy like the parrot, 'beware the rope's-end.' Ant. E. Wilt thou still talk? (Beatinr kim. 56
ADRIANA, LUCIANA,
Act IV Scene IV
Cour. How say you now! is Dot your husband mad? A dr. His incivility confirms no less. • Good DoCl:or Pinch, you are a conjurer; SO E!ltablish him in his true sense again, And I will ple.ase you what you will demand. L-ue. Alas, how fiery and how sharp he looks ! Cour. Mark how he trembles in his ecstasy! Pinch. Give me your hand and let me feel your pulse. Ant. E. There is my hand,and let it feel your ear. [Strik£ng hiln. Pinch. I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man, TI) yield posses.sion to my holy prayers And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight: I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven! 60 Ant. E. Peace,doting wizard, peace I I am not mad. A dr. 0, that thou wert not, poor distressed soul! Ant. E • You minion, you, are these your customers ? Did this companion with the saffron face Revel and feast it at my house to-day, Whilst upon me the guilty doors were shut And I denied to enter in my house? A dr. 0 husband, God doth know you dined at home; Where would you had remain'd until this time, Free from these slanders and this open shame! Ant. E. Dined at home! Thou villain, what saye.'it thou? 71 Dro. E. Sir, sooth to say, you did not dine at home. Ant. E. Were not my doors lock'd up and J shut out? • Dro. E. Perdie, your doors were lock'd and you shut out. Allt. E. And did not she herself revile me there? Dro. E. Sans fable she herself reviled you there. Ant. E. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt and scorn me? Dro. E. Certes, she did; the kitchen-vestal scom'd you. Ant. E. And did not I in rage depart from thence? Dro. E. In verity you did; my bones bear witness, 80 That since have felt the vigour of his rage. A dr. Is't good to soothe him in these contraries? Pinch. I t is no shame: the fellow finds his vein And yielding to him humours well his frenzy. Ant. E. Thou hast subom'd the goldsmith to arrest me. A dr. Alas, I sent you money to redeem you, By Dromio here, who came in haste for It. Dro. E. Money by me! he-.t.rt and good-will vou might; • But surely, master, not a rag of money. Ant. E. Went'st not thou to her for a purse of ducats? go A dr. He came to me and I deliver'd it. LlIc. And I am witness with her that she did. Dro. E. God and the rope-maker bear me witness
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
50 Doctor Pinch. Pinch, played by Robert Helpmann, stole the show in the Old Vic production of 1957. Kenneth Tynan in the Observer called his 'a riveting intervention ... acting all by himself in the left-hand corner of the stage, and got up like one of the less inhibited members of the Chinese Classical The-atre'.
Robert Helpmann as Dr Pinch, Old Vic, 1957
74 Perdie. i.e. per dieu (assuredly). 89 rag of money. A farthing.
57
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act IV Scene IV
91 bound and laid in some dark room. This was the accepted treatment for lunacy.
The binding of Antipholus of Ephesus. Engraving from a design by F. Hayman for Hanmer's edition, 1744 124knQwing how the debt grows. i.e. knowing the reason for the debt.
132 idly. Foolishly.
58
That I was sent for nothing but a rope ! Pinck. Mistress, both man and master is passess'd; I know it by their pale and deadly looks: • They must be bound and laid in some dark room. Ant. E. Say, wherefore didst thou lock me forth to-day? And why dost thou deny the bag of gold? Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. 100 Dro. E. And, gentle master, I received no gold; But I confess, sir, that we were lock'd out. A dr. Dissembling villain, thou speak'st false in both. Ant. E. Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all And art confederate with a damned pack To make a loathsome abjeCt scorn of me: But with these nails 1'11 pluck out these false eyes That would behold in me this shameful sport.
Enter three or/our, and offer to bind him. He strives. A dr. 0, bind him, bind him! let him not come near me. Pinch. More company! The fiend is strong within him. IIO Luc. Ay me, poor man, how pale and wan he looks! Ant. E. What, will you murder me? Thou gaoler, thou, I am thy prisoner: wilt thou suffer them To make a rescue? Off. Masters, let him go : He 15 my prisoner, and you shall not have him. Pinch. Go bind this man, for he is frantic too. [They offer to bind Dro. E. A dr. What wilt thou do, thou peevish officer? Hast thou delight to see a wretched man Do outrage and displeasure to himself? Off. He is my prisoner: if I let him go, 120 The debt he owes will be required of me. A dr. I will discharge thee ere I go from thee: Bear me forthwith unto his creditor eAnd, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it. Good master dodor, see him safe convey'd Home to my house. 0 most unhappy day I Ant. E. 0 most unhappy strumpet! Dro. E. Master, I am here enter'd in bond for you. Ant. E. Out on thee, villain! wherefore dost thou mad me? Dr". E. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, good master: cry 'The devil!' I3I • Luc. God help, poor souls, how idly do they talk! Adr. Go bear him hence. Sister, go you with me. [Exeunt all but Adriana, Luciana, OjJicer and Courtezan.] Say now, whose suit is he arrested at? Off. One Angelo, a goldsmith: do you know him? A dr. I know the man. What is the sum he owes? Off. Two hundred ducats. A dr. Say, how grows it due' Off. Due for a chain your husband had of him. A dr. He did bespeak a chain for me, but had it not.
Act V Scene I
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Cour. When as your husband all in rage to-day Came to my house and took away my ring- 141 The ring I saw upon his finger nowStraight after did I meet him with a chain. Adr. It may be so, but I did never see it. Corne, gaoler, bring me where the goldsmith is : I long to know the truth hereof at large. Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse with his rapier drawn, alzd DROl\UO of SyraCll:4e. L,IC. God, for thy mercy! they are loose again. A dr. And come with naked swords. Let's call more help to have them bound again. Off. Away! they'll kill us. 150 [Exeunt all but Ant. S. and Dro. S. Ant. S. I see these witches are afraid of swords. Dro. S. She that would be your wife now ran from you. Ant. S. Come to the Centaur; fetch our stuff from thence: I long that we were safe and sou!ld aboard. Dro. S. Faith, stay here this night; they will surely do us no harm: you saw they speak us fair, give us gold: methinks they are such a gentle nation that, but for the mountain of mad flesh that claims marriage of me, I could find in my heart to stay here still and turn witch. %60 Ant. S. I will not stay to-night for all the town; Therefore away, to get our stuff aboard. [Exeunt.
;
"-~
Design for Courtezan's costume by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934 8 His zco/'d might bear my teealth at allY time. i.e. he might
borrow so much on his word alone.
ACT V. SCENE
I. A street before a Prior),.
Enter Second Merchant and ANGELO. A Itg. I am SOrry, sir, that I have hinder'd you; But, I protest, he had the chain of me, Though most dishonestly he doth deny it. Sec. Mer. How is the man esteem'd here in the city? Ang. Of very reverend reputation, sir,. Of credit infinite, highly beloved, Second to none that lives here in the city: • His word might bear my wealth at any time. Sec. Mer. Speak softly: yonder, as I think, he walks.
Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse and DROMIO of Syracuse. Ang; 'Tis so ; and that self chain about his neck 10 Which he forswore most monstrously to have. Good sir, draw near to me, I'll speak to him. Signior Antipholus, I wonder much That you would put me to this shame and trouble; And, not without some scandal to yourself, With circumstance and oaths so to deny This chain which now you wear so openly: Beside the charge, the shame, imprisonment, You have done wrong to this my honest friend, \Vho, but for staying on our controversy, 20 Had hoisted sail and put to sea to-day: This chain you had of me; can you deny it' Ant. S. I think I had ; I never did deny it. Sec. Mer. Yes, that you did, sir, and forswore it too. 59
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act V Scene I Ant. S. Whoheardmetodenyitorforswearit? Sec. Mer. These ears of mine, thou know'st, did hear thee. Fie on thee, wretch! 'tis pity that thou livest To walk where any honest men resort. A tIt. S. Thou art a villain to impeach me thus: 1'11 prove mine honour and mine honesty 30 Against thee presently, if thou darest stand. Sec. Mer. I dare, and do defy thee for a villain. [Tkey draw.
Second Merchant: '1 dare and do defy thee, . .' William Poel's production, Gray's Inn Hall, London, 1&95
Enter ADRIANA, LUCIANA, the Courtezan, aTld others. Adr. Hold. hurt him not, for God's sake! he is mad. Some get within him, take his sword away: Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my house. Dro. S. Run, master. run; for God's sake, take a house ! This is SOme priory. In, or we are spoil'd! [Exeunt Ant. S. and Dro. S. to the Priory. E nt" tke Lady Abbess. A bb. Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither? Adr. To fetch my poor distraCted husband hence. Let us come in, that we may bind him fast 40 And bear him home for his recovery. Ang. I knew he was not in his perfeCt wits. Sec. Mer. I am sorry now that I did draw on him. Abb. How long hath this possession held the manY
Elizabeth Inchbald, l&th century actress, as Lady Abbess. Engraved from a design by R. Ramberg, 1781
Adr. This week he hath been heavy, sour,sad, And much different from the man he was ; But till this afternoon his passion Ne'er brake into extremity of rage. A bh. Hath he not lost much wealth by wreck of sea ? Buried some dear friend 1 Hath not else his eye Stray'd his affeCtion in unlawful love ? SI A sin prevailing much in youthful men, Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing. Which of these sorrows is he subjeCt to? A dr. To none of these, exCept it be the last; Namely, some love that drew him oft from home. A tb. You should for that have reprehended him. Adr. Why, so I did. AM. Ay, but not rough enough. A dr. As roughly as my modesty would let me. AM. Haply, in private. A dr. And in assemblies too. AM. Ay, but not enough. 6r Adr. It was the copy of our conference: In bed he slept not for my urging it; At board he fed not for my urging it; Alone, it was the subjeCt of my theme; In company I often glanced it; Still did I ten him it was vile and bad. A bb. And thereof came it that the man was mad: The venom clamours of a jealous woman Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. 'JO It seems his sleeps were hinderd by thy railing, And thereof comes it that his head is light. Thou say'st his meat was sauced with thy upbraldings: Unquiet meals make digestions :
m
60
Act V Scene I Thereof the raging fire of fever bred ; And what's a fever but a fit of madness Y Thou say'st his sportswere hinder'd by thy brawls: Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue But moody and dull melancholy, Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair, 80 And at her heels a huge infedious troop Of pale distemperatures and foes to life? In food, in sport and !ife-preserving rest To be disturb'd, would mad or man or beast: The consequence is then thy jealous fits Have scared thy husband from the use ofwit.c;. Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, When he demean'd himselfrough, rude and wildly. Why bear yon these rebukes and answer not? • A dr. She did betray me to my own reproof. 90 Good people, enter and lay hold on him. Abb. No, not a creature enters in my hoUse. A dr. Then let your servants bring my husband forth. AM. Neither: he took this place for sanCtuary, And it shall privilege him from your hands Till I have brought him to his wits again, Or lose my labour in assaying it. A dr. I will attend my husband, be his nurse, Diet his sickness, for it is my office, And will have no attorney but myself; 100 And therefore let me have him home with me. AM. Be patient; for I will not let him stir Till I have used the approved means I have, With wholesome syrups, drugs and holy prayers, To make of him a formal man again: It is a branch and parcel of mine oath. A charitable duty of my order. Therefore depart and leave him here with me. A dr. I will not hence and leave my husband here : And ill it doth beseem your holiness 110 To separate the husband and the wife. Abb. Be quiet and depart: thou shalt not have him. [Exit. Luc. Complain unto the duke of this indi~nity. Adr. Come, go : I will fall prostrate at hIS feet And never rise until my tears and prayers Have won his grace to come in person hither And take perforce my husband from the abbess. Sec. Mer. By this, I think, the dial points at five: Anon, I'm sure, the duke himself in person Comes this way to the melancholy vale, 120 The place of death and sorry execution, Behind the ditches of the abbey here. Ang. Upon what cause? Sec. Mer. To see a reverend Syracusian merchant, Who put unluckily into this bay Against the laws and statutes of this town, Beheaded publicly for his offence. An!{. See where they come: we will behold liis death. Luc. Kneel to the duke before he pass the abbey,
Enter DUKE. attended; lEGEON bareluaded; 'lvitk tlte Headsman and other Officers. Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publicly, If any friend will pay the sum for him, He shall not die; so much we tender him.
130
.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
90 She did betray me to my oum reproof. i.e. trick me into testifying against myself.
Solinus, Duke of Ephesus (Dennis Hoey), Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act V Scene I
138 important. Importunate. 17'5 nicks him like a/ool. Cuts his hair to mHke him look like a professional fool.
185 halberds. Long spears with a small axe at top.
".",'0"·
Costume design for the guards of Solinus by J. Gower Parks, Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, London, 1934
A dr. Justice. most sacred duke, agains,t the abbess! Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend lady: It cannot be that she hath done thee wrong. A dr. May it please your grace, Antipholu5 my husband. Whom I made lord of me and all I had, .At your important letters,-this ill day A most outrageous fit of madness took him; That desperately he hurried through the street,With him his bondman, all as mad as he,- I,P Doing displew>ure to the citizens By rushing in their houseS, bearing thence Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like. Once did I get him bound and sent him home, Whilst to take order for the wrongs I went That here and there his fury had committed. Anon, I wot not by what strong escape, He broke from those that had the guard of him; And with his mad attendant and himself, 150 Each one with ireful passion, with drawn swords, Met us again and madly bent on us Chased us away, till raising of more aid We came again to bind them. Then they fled Into this abbey, whither we pursued them: And here the abbess shuts the gates on us And will not suffer us to fetch him out, Nor send him forth that we may bear him hence. Therefore, most gracious duke, with thy command . Let him be brought forth and borne hence for help. Duke. Long since thy husband served me in my wars, I6[ And I to thee engaged a prince's word, When thou didst make him master of thy bed, To do him all the grace and good I could. Go, some of you, knock at the abbey-gate And bid the lady abbess come to me. I will determine this before I stir. E,zter a Servant. Servo 0 mistress, mistress, shift and save yourself! My master and his man are both broke loose, Beaten the maids a-row and bound the doCtor, 170 Whose beard they have singed off with brands of fire; And ever, as it blazecl, they threw on him Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair: My master preaches patience to him and the while • His man with scissors nicks him like a fool, . And sure, unless you send some present help, Between them they will kill the conjurer. A dr. Peace, fool! thy master and his man are here, And that is false thou dost report to us. Serv. Mistress, upon my life, I tell you true ; I have not breathed almost since I did see it.. 181 He cries for you and vows, if he can take you, To scorch your face and to disfigure you. [Cry witkin. Ha!"k, hark! J hear him, mistress: fly, be gone! Duke. Come, stand by me; fear nothing. • Guard with halberds ! A dr. Ay me, it is my husband I Witness you, That he is borne about invisible: Even now we housed him .in the abbey here ; And now he's there, past thought of human reason.
62
Act Y Scene I Ente,. ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus and
DROMIO
of
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
192 bestrid thee. i.e. stood over you (in your defence).
Ephesus.
Ant. E. Justice, most gracious duke, 0, grant me justice! 190 Even for the service that long since I did thee, • When I bestrid thee in the wars and took Deep scars to save thy life; even for the blood That then I lost for thee, now grant me justice. Atee. Unless the fear of death doth make me dote, I see my son Antipholus and Dromio. Ant. E. Justice, sweet prince, a.gainst that woman there! She whom thou gavest to me to be my wife, That hath abused and dishonour'd me Even in the strength and height of injury! 200 Beyond imagination is the wrong That she this day hath shameless thrown on me. • Duke. Discover how, and thou shalt find me just. Ant. E. This day, great duke, she shut the doors upon me, .While she with harlots feasted in my house. Duke. A grievous fauit! Say, woman, didst thou so? Ad,.. No, my good lord: myself, he and my sister To-day did dine together. So befall my soul As this is false he burdens me withal!
Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor sleep on night, 210 But she tells to your highness simple truth ! An;. 0 perjured woman! They are both torsworn: In this the madman justly chargeth them. Ant. E. My liege, I am advised what I say, N either disturbed with the effect of wine, N or heady-rash, provoked with raging ire, Albeit my wrongs might make one wiser mad. This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner: That goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her, Could witness it, for he was with me then; 220 Who parted with me to go fetch a chain, Promising to bring it to the Porpentine, Where Balthazar and I did dine together. Our dinner done, and he not coming thither, I went to seek him: in the street I met him And in his company that gentleman. There did this perjured goldsmith swear me down That I this day of him received the chain, Which, God he knows, I saw not: for the which He did arrest me with an officer. 230 I did oher, and sent my peasant home For certam ducats: he with none return'd. Then fairly I bespoke the officer To go in person with me to my house. By the way we met My wife, her sister, and a rabble more Of vile confederates. Along with them They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A threadbare juggler and a fortune-teller, A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, 240 A living-dead man: this pernicious slave, Forsooth, took on him as a conjurer, And, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, And with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me,
203 Discover how. Reveal how. 205 harlots. Low company.
Antipholus of Ephesus: 'They brought one Pinch ... a mountebank .. .' Seventeenth century engraving of a mountebank
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act V Scene I
Circe bewitching a man. Illustration from a Greek vase painting
270 Circe's cup. The sorceress Circe's poisoned cup turned men into swine. 281 mated. Confounded.
Cries out, I was possess'd. Then all together They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence And in a dark and dankish vault at home There left me and my man, both bound tOgether; Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, 1 gain'd my freedom and immediately 2$0 Ran hither to your grace: whom I beseech To give me ample satisfaCtion For these deep shames and great indignities. An&': My lord, in truth, thus far I witness with him, That he dined not at home, but was lock'd out. Duke. But had he such a chain of thee or no? Ang. He had, my lord: and when he rall in here, These people saw the chain about his neck. Sec. Mer. Besides, I will be sworn these ears of mine Heard you confess you had the chain of him 260 After you first forswore it on the mart: And thereupon I drew my sword on you; And then you fled into this abbey here, From whence, I think, you are come by miracle. Ant. E. 1 never came within these abbeywalls, Nor ever didst thou draw thy sword on me: I Rever saw the chain, so help me Heaven I And this is false you burden me withal. Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this! -I think you all have drunk of Circe's cup. 270 If here you housed him, here he would have been; If he were mad, he would not plead so col~y: You say he dined at home; the goldsmith here Denies that saying. Sirrah, what say you? Dro. E. Sir, he dined with her there, at the Porpen tine. Cour. He did, and from my finger snatch'd that ring. A 11 t. E. 'Tis true, my liege; this ring I had of her. Duke. Saw'st thou him enter at the abbey here? Cour. As sure. my liege. as I do see your grace. Dllke. Why, this is strange. Go call the abbess hither. 280 -I thii-Ik you are all mated or stark mad.
lExit otle to the Abbess. //lge. Most mighty duke, vouchsafe me speak a word: Haply I see a friend will save my life And pay the sum that may deliver me. Duke. Speak freely, Syracusian, what thou wilt. /lige. Is not your name, sir, caU'd Antipholus? And is not that your bondman, Dromio? Dro. E. Within this hour I was his bondman, sir, But he, I thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords: Now am I Dromio and his man unbound. 290 //lge. I am sure you both of you remember me. Dro. E. Ourselves we do remember, sir, by you; For lately we were bound, as you are now. You are not Pinch's patient, are you, sir?
Act V Scene I
Alge. Why look you strange on md you know me well. Awt. E. 1 never saw you in my life till now. Alge. 0, gnef hath changed me since you saw me last, And careful hours with time's deformed hand Have written strange defeatures in my face: But tell me yet, dos,t thou not know my voice? Ant. E. Neither. JOl /Ege. Dromio, nor thouT Dr". E. No, trust me, sir, nor I. Alge. I am sure thou dost. Dr". E. Ay, sir, but I am sure I do not; and whatsoever a man denies, you are now bound to believe him. Alge. Not know my voice! 0 time's extremity, Hast thou so crack'd and splitted mypOor tongue In seven short years, that here my only son Knows not my feeble key of untuned cares! 3IO Though now this grained face of mine be hid e In saJrCQnsulning winter's drizzled snow And all the conduits of my blood froze up, Yet hath my night of life some memory, eMy wasting lamps some fading glimmer left, dull deaf ears a little use to hear: AI these old witnesses-I cannot errTell me thou art my son Antipholus. Ant. E. I never saw my hlther in my life. .dig-e. But seven years since, in Syracusa, 320 boy, Thou know'st we parted: but perha~, my son, Thou shamest to acknowledge me in misery. Ant. E. The duke and all that know me in the city Can witness with me that it is not so: J ne'er saw Syracusa in my life. Duke. I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years Have I been patron to Antipholus, During which time he ne'er saw Syracusa: I see thy age and dangers make thee dote.
Mr
Re-enter Abbes..", with ANTIPHOLUS or Syracuse anti DROMIO of Syracuse. Aim. Most mighty duke, behold a man much wrong'd. [Allgatker to see them. 330 A dr. I see two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me. e Duke. One of these men is Genius to the other; And so of these. Which is the natural man, And which the spirit! who deciphers them? Dr". S. I, sir, am Dronllo: command him away. Dr". E. I, sir, am Dromio: pray, let me stay. Ant. S. lEgeon art thou not? or else his ghost? Dro. S. 0, myoId master! who hath bound him hereY AM. Whoever bound him, I will loose his bonds And gain a husband by his liberty. 340 Speak, old iEgeon, if thou be'st the man That hadst a wife once call'd lEmilia e That bore thee at a burden two fair sons: 0, if thou be'st the same JEgeon, speak, And speak unto the same lEmilia!
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
312 rop-co}lslIm;ngu:illter's drizzled $/lOW. i.e. his beard.
315 lamps. Eyes.
Abbess: ' ... behold a man much wrong'd'. Engraving
from a painting by John Francis Rigaud (1742-1810) 332 GeII;lIs. The spirit that governs one .
343 burdl'l!. Birth.
Charles and Henry \Yebb as the two Dromios. Princess's Theatre, London, r864-
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
Act V Scene I
John Henry and Maria Ann Johnston as Aeaeon and Aemilia. Illustration by W. Hamilton (1751-1801)
397 sympathized. Shared by all.
66
Alge. If I dream not, thou art lEmtlia: If thou art she, tell me where is that SQn That floated with thee on the fatal rafd Abb. By men of Epidamnum he and I And the twin Dromio all were taken up; 350 But by and by rude fishermen of Corinth By force took Dromio and my son from them And me they left with those of Epidamnum. What then became of them I cannot tell; I to this fortune that you see me in. Dttke. Why, here begins his morning story right: These two Antipholuses, these two so like, And these two Dromios, one in semblance,Besides her urging of her wreck at sea,These are the parents to these children, 360 Which accidentally are met together. Antipholus, thou camest from Corinth first! Ant. S. No, sir, not I; I came from Syracuse. Duke. Stay, stand apart; I know not which is which. Ant. E. I came from Corinth, my most gracious lord,Dro. E. And I with him. Ant. E. Brought to this town by that most famous warrior, Duke Menaphon, your most renowned uncle. A dr. Which of you two did dine with me today! Ant. S. I, gentle mistress. Adr. And are not you my husband! Ant. E. No; I say nay to that. 37I Ant. S. And so do I ; yet did she call me so: And this fair gentlewoman, her sister here, Did call me brother. [To Luc.] What I told you then, I hope I shall have leisure to make good ; If this be not a dream I see and hear. Ang. That is the chain, sir, which you had of me. Ant. S.l think it be, sir: I deny it not. Ant. E. And you, sir, for this chain arrested me. 380 Ang-. I think I did, sir: I deny it not. A dr. I sent you money, sir, to be your bail, By Dromio; but I think he brought it not. Dro. E. No, none by roe. Ant. S. This purse of ducats I received from you And Dromio my man did bring them me. I see we still did meet each other's man, And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, And thereupon these ERRORS are arose. Ant. E. These ducats pawn I for my father here. Duke. It shall not need; thy father hath his life. 390 Cour. Sir, I. must have that diamond from you. Ant. E. There, take it; and much thanks for my good cheer. A bb. Renowned duke, vouchsafe to take the pains To go with us into the abbey here And hear at large discoursed all our fortunes : And all that are assembled in this place • • That by this sympathized one day's error Have suft"er'd wrong, go keep us company. And we shall make full satisfad.ion.
Act V Scene I Thirty-three years have I but gone in travail 400 Of you, my lIOns: and till this present hour My heavy burthen ne'er delivered. The duke, my husband and my children both, -And you the calendars of their nativity, - Go to a gossi~' feast, and go with me ; Mter so long grief, such fe!ltivity I Dukl. With all my heart, I'll gossip at this [Exeunt all but Ant. S., Ant. E., feast. Dro. S., and Dro. E. Dro. S. Master, shall I fetch your stuff from shipboard? Ant. E. Dromio, wha.t stuff of mine hast thou embark'd? Dro. S. Your goods that lay at host, sir, in the Centaur. 410 Ant. S. He speaks to me. I am your mas.ter, Dromio: Come, go with us; we 'lliook to that anon: Embrace thy brother there: rejoice with him. (Exeunt Ant. S. and Ant. E. Dro. S. There is a fat friend at your master's house, -That kitchen'd me for you to-clay at dinner: She now shan be my sister, not my wife. Dro. E. Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth. - Will you walk in to see their gossiping? Dro. S. Not I, sir: you are my elder. 420 Dro. E. That's a question: how shall we try it? Dro. S. We'll draw cuts for the senior: till then lead thou first.. Dro. E. Nay, then, thus: We came into the world like brother and brother; And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another. [Exeunt.
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS
404 calendars. i.e. the Dromios. 40'5 gossips' feast. A baptismal feast at which all the characters will be re-named.
415 kitchen'd me. Entertained in the kitchen. 419 gossiping. :\·Ierrymaking. .:. a ..
The two Dromios meet. Illustration by Alexander Stuart Boyd. 1916
The Two Gentlemen of Yerona
THE ESSENTIAL THING about this play is that it is experimental: it is Shakespeare's first offering of a romantic comedy, with its promise of more mature works in the same genre to come. Aspects of character and situation, dramatic strokes of plot, are repeated in subsequent plays more satisfactorily in fuller, rounded development. Here they are rather sketched-evidently, too, somewhat hurriedly: the end is quickly ravelled up, and there may have been a few cuts. Since there is no record of early performances, it was possibly written for private production-for Southampton and his friends. It has the character of artificial comedy, with an Italian colouring, appropriate to an aristocratic circle.
Right: A street in Verona. Painting (I837) by James Holland R.A. Far right: Ada Rehan as Julia in Augustin Daly's production of The Two Gentlemen of Verona, London I895 .
68
Introduction
THE TWO GEXTLEIVIEX OF
Background. But the background is recognisably Elizabethan London. The play starts with a send-off of a young gentleman, Valentine, by his friend Proteus, on a tour abroad which ,vas the regular thing for a young gentleman to undertake: To see the wonders of the world abroad; his friend bids him to look out for Some rare notev.'orthy object in thy travel. This was especially a time, the late 1580's apd early 1590'S, 'when young men set outSome to the wars to try their fortunes there, Some to discover islands far away(like Sir \Valter Ralegh and Sir Richard Grem"ille)Some to the studious universities. Proteus later follows his friend; his man Launce is late in getting aboard ship; a fellow-servant hurries him up: Thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after 'with oars .... Y ou'Hlose the tide if you tarry any longer. It is, of course, the tidal Thames, where it was important to catch the tide if one was to 'shoot' London Bridge-to go down river to ship for a sea-voyage. It does not much matter that Shakespeare leaves the places somewhat mixed up in the play-too busy to bother about details of that sort.
Date. There is no difficulty about dating from internal evidence. There are two specific references to the theme of Hero and Leander, each of them extending to several lines. The subject 'would be to the fore in Shakespeare's mind in 1592, when Marlowe was writing his Hero and Leande1" in rival!)" with Venus and Adonis for the favour of the young patron, Southampton. Others have noticed that there are flecks of the Sonnets being written contemporaneously-the image!)" of the canker in the rose, the poet's favourite flower; or: 0, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day, \Yhich now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away!
This is a clear parallel to the fuller descriptions in Sonnets 33 and 34 of the uncertain spring days of friendship, with their early morning sun overtaken and overcast by clouds. It is all early 1592.
TheIne. Far more important, the theme of the play is that of the Sonnets: the conflicting claims of love and friendship. Here, as there, Shakespeare comes dmvn on the side of friendship. \Ve do not need to think in pedantic terms that this was a traditional
VERO~A
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Introduction
literary option: it was the option that Shakespeare made in his own life, and the playas with any writer-bears traces of his own experience. For, in the play, as in life, the situation presented worse than awkwardness: it led to a real strain, the resolution of which all commentators have regarded as the most unsatisfactory feature of the action, the unconvincing denouement when Valentine abnegates his love for Silvia in favour of his friend Proteus, who has seriously offended but is now penitent: By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased; And, that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine in Silvia I give thee. Everybody has been shocked by this casual handing-over of his love to his friend, and there is no explaining it away by academic doctrine as to the rewards of penitence. N or is there any need to; for it is precisely what happened between Shakespeare and his young friend over his mistress, Emilia Lanier. In the Sonnets Shakespeare reproaches his young patron for taking his place with her: Ay me! but yet thou mightst my seat forbear ... And in the very sonnets which describe the clouding over of their friendship like an uncertain spring day, and the 'canker in the sweetest bud', Shakespeare excuses the young man: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done. And yet, though the young friend has shed tears for his offence and repented, Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss. Then, in a generous outburst, whether convincing or not: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all. This is precisely what Valentine does in the play: he yields up his love, Silvia, to his friend. It is very unsatisfactory, as everybody has thought: an academic critic, a ladyciting Cervantes and Francis Bacon and Richard Edwardes and John Lyly-sagely concludes that in the play 'the love and friendship motifs proved less easy to reconcile'. No more did they in real life, the experience that goes into a real writer's writing. Sonnet 40 continues ruefully: I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief, Although thou steal thee all my poverty. Needs must, when the thief-'get'ltle' in E1iz3bethan English means 'gentlemanly'was the noble patron. The theme of the play, then, is the conflict between friendship and love-dominating Shakespeare's mind in 1592-the offender's repentance, the too generous, rather unconvincing forgiveness and yielding up the girl.
70
Introduction
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
And yet no-one has ever observed the close parallel between The Two Gentlemen of Verona and the contemporary Sonnets that record the conflict, 33 to 36 and 40 to 42.
Personal Touches. Various descriptive flecks in passing make the thing more real to us. Valentine-the one who was to give up his girl-describes his friend: His years but young, but his experience old; His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe ... He is complete in feature and in mind With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Shakespeare, very gentlemanly himself, is always ready with a courtly compliment. The Duke says of the young friend, Proteus: if he make this good He is as \vorthy for an empress' love As meet to be an emperor's counsellor. We can all recognise what this compliment means and what it implies: young Southampton was intelligent, well-educated, ambitious and always anxious to obtain the Queen's favour, though he did not go the right ,vay about it and, in the event, failed to obtain it. Interchangeably, Valentine does penance for 'contemning love', and is now so subject to it that Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes ... Xor to his service no such joy on earth, N"ow no discourse, except it be of Love; Xow can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Cpon the very naked name of Love. This was the susceptible actor-dramatist's case; we can see something of him in Valentine, still more-as has been generally recognised-in Berowne in Love's Labour's Lost. The mercurial about-turns in the play-when Proteus drops his love Julia for Valentine's Silvia, and Valentine as suddenly yields up Silvia-were less surprising to Elizabethans, so mercurial and changeable themselves, than they are to us. In any case, with them they did not seek the 'probable' ; they looked out for the dramatic and preferred the surprises, the sensational. It has been observed, too, that it is the women who come out best against the not altogether satisfactory Valentine and the distasteful Proteus, whose name explains but does not excuse him, in the battledore and shuttlecock beh...·een them to which the ladies are subjected. A woman critic notes of this, Shakespeare's first romantic comedy: 'his tendency to hand over most of the initiative and just judgment to the women in his cast of characters was already marked.' We may add that Julia, in assuming the guise of a page to follow Proteus, provides a first example of what the practising actor-dramatist was to employ so much later. Since women's parts were played by boys, it was very practical and convincing to dress these boy actors as boys. We have a recognisable reminiscence from Shakespeare's ovm boyhood, when
71
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Introduction
Julia says: at Pentecost, When all our pageants of delight were played, Our youth got me to play the woman's part, And I was trimmed in Madam Julia's goV'.'Il. It reminds one of the Whitsun pastorals which were performed at Stratford. and in many places all over the country in that dramatising age. The part she played was a classical one, Ariadne lamenting Theseus' perjury and flight-to remind us that the dramatist's schooling was in the classics. SO
Realism. Most appealing of all to us today are the scenes that bring the life of the time realistically before us. Notably in the characters of Launce, and no less his dog Crab, and his fellow-setvimt Speed: they are drawn authentically from life below stairs, and have their just comment to offer on their betters and what goes on above. In the talk between these two we have Shakespeare's sharp ear for the speech and idiom of the people-like Scott, or Hardy; and absolute virtuosity in Launce addressing his dog, which never fails to bring the house down: He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentleman-like dogs under the Duke's table. He had not been there-bless the mark-a pissingwhile but all the chamber smelt him. 'Out with the dog,' says one. 'What cur is that?' says another. 'Whip him out,' 'says the third. 'Hang him up,' says the Duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab, and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs. 'Friend,' quoth I, 'you mean to whip the dog?' 'Ay, marry, do I,' quoth he. 'You do him the more wrong,' quoth I, ' 'twas I did the thing you wot of.' He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for his servant?' Anyone who knows the strict regulations governing great households of the time, conduct in hall, cleanliness in courtyards, etc. will appreciate the authentic note of this. And then, a final reproach: 'Nay, I remember the trick you served me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia. Did not I bid thee still mark me and do as I do? When didst thou see me heave up my leg and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? Didst thou ever see me do such a trick ?' There are the usual bawdy exchanges between these good fellows-on the loveaffairs of the gentry, for example: Speed: Why, then, how stands the matter with them? Launce: Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. There follows a good deal of bawdy talk and punning about standing: the same joke as Shakespeare applies to himself in regard to his mistress, 'rising at thy name', in Sonnet 151. We find punning everywhere-the Elizabethan weakness for which was noted with disapprobation by the august taste of the 18th century, expressed by Dr. Johnson. On the other hand, we have the overriding love of the age for music: this comedy initiates the use of music which was to expand so notably in the plays. We have a reference to a well known contemporary ballad, 'Light o'Love'-to proliferate innumerably later; and the first of the charming songs that decorate the plays like jewels:
72
Introduction
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA Launce and his dog. Illustrati07i by Walter Crane, I894
\Vho is Sikia? \Vhat is she, That all our swains commend her?
Text. The text \vhich we have is a good one, from the First Folio, probably from the Company's prompt-book based on Shakespeare's manuscript. He derived the hint for his plot from the story in Montemayor's romance, Diana. All that is most valuable he added himself, from his O"\i\'ll experience, with the character Valentine and the complications of his relationship with his young patron; most of all, with Launce and his dog, who remain in the mind when the rest are but shadows. 73
THE
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. DRAMATIS PERSON.IE. DUKE OF MILAN, Father to Silvia. LAUNCE, the like to Proteus. P ANTHINO, Servant to Antonio. VALENTINE, l th tw Ge tl PROTEUS, { e o n emen. JULIA, beloved of Proteus. ANTONIO, Father to Proteus. S IL VIA, beloved of Valentine. THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine. LUCETTA, waiting-woman to Julia. EGLAMOUR, A,jent for Silvia in her escape. Servants, Musicians. HOST, where Julia lodges. OUTLAws, with Valentine. SCENE, Verona ; Milan; ike frontiers Mantua. SPEED, a clownish servant to Valentine.
of
• A bullet beside a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite column Verona. An open place. Engraving from Charles Kniflht's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
ACT 1. SCENE 1. Verona. An ojJenplace. Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Val Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. Were't not affeCtion chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But thou lovest, love still and thrive therein, Even as I would when I to love begin. 10 Pre. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel: Wish me partaker in thy happiness When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, .For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.
SO Enter . .. PROTEl:S. In Greek mythology Proteus escaped from questioners by assuming different shapes.
since
The mythological Proteus. From a Greek vase painting
18 beadsman. One who was engaged to pray (i.e. tell his beads) for another.
Opposite: Valentine rescues Silvia from Proteus. Engraving from a painting by Angelica Kauffmann (174 1 - 18°7)
75
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Act I Scene I
Z2 Leanchr cross'd tlw HellesfKJnt. In classical mythology
Leander swam the Hellespont each night to visit his love Hero. 24-25 over shoes . .. O'ver boots. Literally, wet above the
shoes or boots. Both phrases express 'reckless continuance in a course already begun'. Z7 give me not the boots. A proyerbial expression which meant 'don't make a laughing stock of me'.
36-37 circumstance ... circumstance. 'Argument', and
'condition' . 44 wits. Minds, intellects.
49 verciure. Freshness.
52 votary. Devotee.
Proteus and Valentine. Illustration by Walter Crane, 1894
73 sheep. This is a quibble on 'ship' which was similarly pronounced in Shakespeare's time.
Vat. And on a love-book pray for my success? Pro. Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love: 21 .How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love; • For .he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swum the Hellespont. • Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I will not, for it boots thee not. Pro. What? Val. To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth 30 With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. • Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Vat. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'11 prove. Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, 40 Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. Pro. Yet writers say, as in the !".weetest bud The eating Canker dwells, so eating love • Inhabits in the finest wits of all. Val. And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blastin~ in the bud, • Losing his verdure even 10 the prime And all the fair effects of future hopes. SO But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee • That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu! my father at the road Expetts my coming, there to see me shipp'd. Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. To Milan let me hear from thee by letters Of thy success in love and what news else Betideth here in absence of thy friend; And I likewise will visit thee with mine. 60 Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Vat. As much to you at home! and so, farewell. . [Exit. Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends and all, for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me, Made me neglett my studies lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thou~ht.
Enter
SPEED.
Speed. Sir Proteus, save you I Saw you my master? ]0 Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already, .And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. Pro. Indeed, a !".heep doth very often stray,
Act I Scene I An if the shepherd be a while away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then and I a sheep! Pro. I do. • Speed. Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. 80 Pro. A silly answer and fitting well a sheep. SPeed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circum· stance. Pro. It shall go hard but 1'11 prove it by other. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me: therefore I am no sheep. 91 Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shep· herd; the shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master; thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep. Speed. Such another proof will mak€" me cry 'baa.' Pro. But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia? roo Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your .letter to her, a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such store ofmuttons. • Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her. Pro. Nay: in that you are astray, 'twere best pound you. 110 Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter. Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound,-a .pinfold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. Pro. But what said she? Speed. [First noddutg] Ay. Pro. Nod-Ay-why, that's noddy. Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: you ask me if she did nod; and I say, 'Ay.' Pro. And that set together is noddy. 122 Speed. Now you have 'taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains. Pro. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. • Speed. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the word' noddy' for my pains. Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she? Speed. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered. Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she! 140 Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
a..-
ana
--=--~~tt~~"7?~j-::-- ...--Proteus and Speed. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1846
80 my hornl are his horns. A cuckold's horns, commonest and stalest of Elizabethan jokes. 10Z laced mutton. Frequently used for a prostitute.
107-108 ground . .. stick her. i.e. if the ground be overstocked it would be best to slaughter her (with a bawdy innuendo). 114 pinfold. Enclosure for stray animals. 127-128 fain to bear with you. i.e. pleased to put up with you.
77
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Act I Scene II
148 in telling your mind. i.e. when you tell her in person. 153 testerned. The tester was an Elizabethan sixpence.
158 ckstined to a drier death on shore. A reference to the proverb 'he that is born to be hanged shall never be drowned'.
Pro. Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind" J fear she'll prove as hard to • you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What said she? nothing? ISO Speed. No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To testify your bounty, I thank you • have testerned me; in requital whereo, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master. Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck, Which cannot perish having thee aboard, • Being destined to a drier death on shore. [Exit Speed. I must go send some better messenger: I fear my Julia would not deign my lines, 160 Receiving them from such a worthIes.'; post. [Exit.
lOU,
SCENE
Set design for garden of Julia's house by J. Gower Parks, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938
9 SiT Eglamour. A pseudo-romantic name for a carpetknight.
II. The same. GardmofJuLIA'slwuse.
Enter JULIA and LucETTA. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. J1Il. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love? Luc. Please you repeat their names, I'U show my mind According to my shallow simple skill. • Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine. II Jul. \Vhat think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so. Jut. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? Lltc. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us ! Jul. How now! what means this passion at his name? Luc. Pardon, dear Inadam: tis a passing shame That I, unworthy body as I am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. Jui. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Luc. Then thus: of many good I think him best. Jul. Your reason? Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; think him so because I think him so. Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. Jfel. 'Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me. L tic. Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves yeo J1tl. His little speaking shows his love but small. 29 Lftc. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all. Jul. They do not love that do not show their love. L1lc. 0, they love least that let men .know their love.
Jul
Act I Scene II
THE
n;vo
GE~TLEMEX
OF
VERO~A
I would I knew his mind. Peruse this paper, madam. 'To Julia.' Say, from whom? That the contents will show. Say, say, who gave it thee? Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus. He would have given it you; but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it: pardon the fault, I pray. 40 7ul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth! Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper: see it be return'd; Or else return no more into my sight. Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.. 7ul. Will ye be gone 1 Luc. That you may ruminate.
'Jul. LUI:. 'Jul. Luc. 'JuL Luc.
(Exit.
'Jul. And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter: 50 I t were a shame to call her back again And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view 1 Since maids, in modesty, say' no' to that Which they would have the profferer construe' ay.' Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse And presently all humbled kiss the rod 1 How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, 60 When willingly I would have had her here! How angerly I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! My penance is to call Lucetta back And ask remission for my folly past. What ho! Lucetta!
Be-enter LUCETTA. LUf.
What would your ladyship! Is't near dinner-time? Luc. I would it were, • That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid. 'Jttl. What is't that you took up so gingerly? Luc. Nothing. 71 7ft/. Why didst thou stoop, then! Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. 7ul. And is that paper nothing? Luc. Nothing concerning me. 'Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter. 'Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. • Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. • Give me a note: your ladyship can set. 81 7ul. As litde by such toys as may be possible. • Best sing it to the tune of' Light 0' love.' Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. • 7ul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then? Luc. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.
7,u.
Julia and Lucetta. Illustration by "TaIteI' Crane, 1894 &8 stomach. ~\. play on the word meaning both 'appetite' and 'anger'. ",eat. Pronounced 'mate'. There is an ob"ious quibble with 'maid'.
80-96 That I might sing it . . . lInruly bass. All the quibbles here are based on the musical terminology of the time. 81 note. The two meanings are •letter' and 'musical note' .·set. 'write' and 'set to music'. 83 'Light oJ 1000:e:
~\.
popular rune.
85 burden. The two meanings are 'load' and 'musiC'dl refrain'.
79
THE TWO GENTLEMEX OF VEROXA
Act I Scene II
87 1 C01l1Jot reach so high. The two meanings are 'it is beyond the range of my voice' and 'he is of too high a rank for me'.
94 descant. Refers to the variations upon a tune and to Julia's variations of mood.
95 mean. Tenor. 96 bass. A quibble on 'base' (low conduct). 97 bid the base. A phrase from the game of prisoner's base.
99 coil with pl'Otestation. Fuss O\'er a protestation of love.
, 02 makes it strange. Pretends to be indifferent.
, 04 'WOuld 1 were so anger'd with the same! Julia is referring to the letter she has just torn up.
'Jul And why not you ? Lue. I cannot reach so high. 'Jul. Let's see your song. How now, minion! Lue. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet methinks I do not like this tune. go 'Jul. You do not? Lue. No, madam; it is too sharp. 'Jul. You, minion, are too saucy. Lue. Nay, now you are too flat .And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: • There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. • Jttl The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass. • Lue. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. jul. This babble sha:ll not henceforth trouble me. • Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears Ilu leiter. Go get you gone, and let the papers lie : 100 You would be fingering them, to anger me. . • Lue. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exil. • jttl Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! o hateful hands, to tear such loving words! Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey And kill the bees that yield it with your stings! 1'11 kiss each several paper for amends. Look, here is writ' kmd Julia.' Unkind Julia I As in revenge of thy ingratitude, IIO I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy di!idain. And here is writ ' love-wounded Proteus.' Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd; And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down. Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away Till I have found each letter in the letter, Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear Unto a r~ed fearful-hanging rock 121 And throw It thence into the raging sea! Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ, , Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away. And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it to his complaining names. Thus will I fold them one upon another: Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will. •
Re-enter LucETTA. Julia: '0 hateful hands to tear such loving words'. Drawing by H. J. Richter (I772-I857)
137 month's mind. Desire. Originally a 'month's mind' referred to a mass said for a deceased person one month after his death. Later it came to mean the desire for food fancied by women in the last month of pregnancy.
139 wink. Close my eyes (to them).
Lue. Madam, ;t30 Dinner is ready, and your father stays. 'Jul. Well, let us go. Lue. What. shall these papers lie like telltales here? 'Ju/. If you respeCt them, best to take them up. Lue. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. • 'Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. Lue. Ay, madanl, you may say what sights you see; • I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come; will't please you go? 140
[Exeunt.
80
Act I Scene III
III. The same. ANTONIo'S Muse. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.
ScENE
•
Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas ef his nephew Proteus, your sen. Ant. Why, what efhlm? Pan. He wonder'd that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his yeuth at home, While other men, ef slender reputation, Put ferth their sons to. seek preferment out: Some to. the wars, to try their fertune there; Some to discover islands far away; Some to the studieus universities. 10 For any er for all these exercises • He said that Preteus your sen was meet, And did request me to importune you To. let him spend his time no more at heme, Which would be great impeachment to his age, In having known no travel in his youth. Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that .Whereon this menth I have been hammering. I have consider'd well his loss of time And how he cannot be a perfeCt man, 20 Not being tried and tutor'd in the world: Experience is by industry: achieved And perfected by the SWIft course of time. Then tell me, whither were I best to. send him? Patl. I think your lordship is not ignorant How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal ceurt. Ant. I know it well. Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: .There shall he praCtise tilts and tournaments, 30 Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, And be in eye of every exercise Werthy his yeuth and nobleness efbirth. Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised: And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it The execution ef it shall make known. Even with the speediest expeditien I will dispatch him to the emperor's court. Pan. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso With other gentlemen of good esteem 40 Are journ~ying to salute the emperor And to commend their service to his will. Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: .And, in good time! now will we break with him. Ellter
Pro.
PROTEUS.
Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honeur's pawn. 0, that Qur fathers would applaud our loves, To seal eur happiness with their consents! o heavenly Julia! 50 Ant. How now! what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please yeur lerdship, 'tis a werd or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Deliver'd by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
1 sad. Serious. 12 meet. Fitted. 18 hammering. Pondering.
30 tilts and tournaments. A tilt was a mock contest between two parties of knights.
Tilting match in the 14th century. Engraving from Old England, 1854
Preparations for a tournament, 13th century. From J. Strutt's The Sports and Pastimes of tire People of England, 1810 44 break reith him. Tell him what we have in mind.
THE TWO GENTLEME:\T OF
VERO~A
Act II Scene I Pro. There is no news, my lord, but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. A nt. And how stand you affeCted to his wish! Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will 61 And not depending on his friendly wish. A nt. My will is something sorted with his wish. Muse not that I thus sl1ddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an en 1. I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, • Like exhibition thou shalt have from me. To-morrow be in readiness to go: 70 Excuse it not, for I am peremptory. Pro. My lord, I cannot be so &oon provided: Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee: No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go. Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd To hasten ori hi!> expedition. [Exeunt A nt. and Pan. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of bunrlng, . And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter, 80 • Lest he should take exceptions to my lo~e; And with the vantage of mine own excuse Hath he excepted most against my love. 0, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away!
Re-enter PANTHINO. Pan.
Costume desiiJ1 for Proteus by Stratford-upon-Avon, I938
J. Gower Parks,
Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go. 89 Pro. Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto, And yet a thousand times it answers 'no.'
[Exeultt. ACT II.
&9 Like exhibition. Allowance of money.
81 take exceptiom. Object to.
SCENE
I.
Milan.
TIte
DUKE'S
palace.
Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one. Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine: Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah, Silvia, Silvia! Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia I Val. How now, sirrah? Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her? S~ed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook. 10 Vai. Well, you'lI still be too forward. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia? Speed. She that your worship loves! Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: first,
Act II Scene I you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe vour arms, like a malecontent; to relish a loveSong, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pesLilence ; to sigh, like a schoolboy that had lost his A B. C ; to weep, like a young wench that had bUried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one • that fears robbing: to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to • walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. Val. Are all these things perceived in me? • Speed. They are all perceived without yeo Val. Without me? they cannot. • Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you and shine through you like • the water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment on your malady. Val But tell me, dosl thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She that you gaze on so ~ she sits at supper? Val. Hast thou observed that! even she, J meaD. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not. 50 Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her DOt? • Speed. Is she not hard-favoured, sir? • Val. Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured. Speed. Sir, I know that well enough. Val. What dost thou know? Speed. That she is not so fair as, of you, well favoured. Val. I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite. 60 Speed. That's because the one is painted and the other out of all count. Val. -How painted Y and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to make h(. fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Vat. How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. Val. How long hath she been deformed? 70 Speed. Ever since you loved her. Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Val. Why? Speed. Because Love is blind. 0, that you h~.d mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights th~v were wont to have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered ! Val. What should I see then? 80 Speed. Your own present folly and herpas-;ing deformity: for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose. Val. Belike, boy, then, you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. ,!:,peed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed :
THE TWO GENTLEME:N" OF VERONA
2&-27 beggar at HallOtvmass. The feast of All Hallows (November 1) was a day when paupers received special alms.
29 01Je of the liollS. This is probably a reference to the lions in the Tower of London or to the lions on the royal standard which would ha,·e been displayed in theatres.
35 u:ithout ye. i.e. outside of you.
Gyles Isham as Valentine, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938
37-38 If'ithout you? ... u:ithout. Playing on the senses 'outside' and 'unless'. none·else 'WOuld. Dr. Johnson explains this as 'none else would be so simple'. 41 urinal. Transparent glass yessel for testing urine. 53 hard-fO'l:oured. Cgly.
54 Xot sofair, boy, as well-fa'Coured. i.e. Silvia's beauty is exceeded by her charm.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Act II Scene I
88 $'Winged. Beat, thrashed.
91 set. Seated. There is also a bawdy pun here where Speed takes 'stand' to mean the male erection.
100 motion. A
'motion' was a puppet-show. Speed means that Silvia is a puppet because she has not been able to speak of her love for Valentine, but has had to employ him as an interpreter.
106 servant. Swain.
.1 thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you forlours. Val. In conclusion, I stand affette to her. 90 • Speed. I would you were set, so your affeCl:ion would cease. Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves. Speed. And have you? Val. I have. Speed. Are they not lamely writ? Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace! here she comes. • Speed. [Aside] 0 excellent motion! 0 exceeding puppet! Now will he interpret to her.
Enter
SILVIA.
Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand goodmorrows. Speed. [Aside] 0, give ye good even! here's a million of manners. ' • Silo Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. [Aside] He should give her interest, and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ yourletter Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in But for my duty to your: ladyship. Silo I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. • Val. N ow trust me, madam, it came hardly
Valentine, Silvia and Speed. Painting by H. P. Briggs (1791 ?-I844)
115 came hardly off. Was difficult to write.
119 stead. Benefit. 122 period. A pause. 128 quaintly. Ingeniously.
off; For being; ignorant to whom it goes I writ at random, very doubtfully. Silo Perchance you think too much of so much pains? • Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet• Silo A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not; And yet take this again; and yet I thank you, Meaning henceforth t.O trouble you no more. Speed. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.' . Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like it? • Silo Yes, yes: the lines are very quaintly writ; But since unwillingly, take them again. Nay; take them. 130 Vill. Madam, they are for you. Suo Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request; But I will none of them; they are for you; I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over, And if it please you, so; if not, ·why, so. Val. If it please me, madam, what then? Silo Why, if it please you, take it (or your labour:, And so, good morrow, servant. [Exit. 140 Speed. 0 jes,t unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face,' or a weathercock on a steeple! My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,
Act II Scene II He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
o excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himF.elf should write the ietter? Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason. ISO Val. To do what? Speed. To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia. Val. To whom? • Speed. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure. Val. What figure? Speed. By a letter, I should say. Val. Why, she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive ~j~? lfu Val. No, believe me. Sjeed. No believing you, indeed., sir. But did you perceive her earnest? Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Sjeed. Why, she hath given you a letter. Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end. Val. I would it were no worse. Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: 170 For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. • All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. 'Vhy muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time. • Val. I have dined. • Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on -the air, I am one that am nourished by my viCluals and would fain have meat. 0, be not like your mistress; be moved, [Exermt. be moved. ScENE
•
II.
Verona.
JULIA'S
THE TWO
GENTLEME~
OF VERONA
154 by a figure. Indirectly. The phrase refers to a device used in rhetoric.
175 in print, i.e. 'with exactness' and 'in a printed book'. 177 I have dined. Valentine implies that the sight of Silvia has satisfied his appetite. 178-179 chameleon Love. It was commonly believed that the chameleon fed on air. Love was described as chameleon because of the changeability of those in love. 4 turn not. Do not prove unfaithful.
house.
E,tter PROTEL'S and JL'LIA. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. 'Jul. I must, where is no remedy. Pro. When possibly I can, I will return. 'Jul. If you turn not, you will return the
Proteus: 'Here is my hand for my true constancy'. Engraving by \V. Hopwood (active early 19th century)
sooner. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. [Givitzg a ring. Pro. Why, then, we'll make exchange; here, take you this. 7711. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour 0 'erslips me in the day Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, 10 The next ensuing hour some foul mischance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears' That tide will stay me longer than I should. Julia, farewell! [Exit J,tlia. What, gone without a word? 85
THE TWO
GE~TLEME~
OF
VERO~A
Act II Scene III Ay, SO true love should do ~ it cannot speak; For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
Enter PANTHINO. Pan. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for. Pro. Go; I come, I come. 20 Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. ScENE
Launce and his dog. Frontispiece by W. Cruikshank to Cumberland edition, The TWfJ Gentlemen oj Verona, 1822
19-20 WfJYser sole . .. my mother. It was a common debating point whether a woman's soul was inferior to a man's. There is also here a bawdy reference to the female sex organ.
30-31 wood woman. i.e. mad woman. 32 up and down. i.e. exactly.
53-54 tongue . .. tale. This is another bawdy pun, repeated in The TamingojtheShrerr:, II, i, 218-219.
III.
TIte same.
A street.
Enter LAUNeR, leading a dog. Launce. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my f."lther: no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is aso, it hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staIns my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand: thi... hat is Nan, our maid: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog-Oh 1 the dog is me, and I am mysdf; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing: now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping: now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now come I to my amother: 0, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there 'tis; here's my mother's br~th up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter PANTHINO. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass! you'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Launce. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Launce. Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog. Pan. Tnt, man, I mean thou'!t lose the flood, and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service, and, In losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth? 51 Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. a Pan. Where should I lose my tougueZ Launce. In thy tale. Pan. In thy tail!
86
Act II Scene III
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
LalfflCe. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service, and the tiedl Why, man, if the rivet' were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs. 60 Pan. Come, come away, man: I was sent to call thee. La,mce. Sir, call me what thou darest. Pan. Wilt thou go? Launce. Well, I will go. [Exeunt. SCENE' IV.
Milan~
The DUK.Jispalace.
Ente,. SILVIA, VALENTINE, THURIO, and SPEED. S iI. Servant I Val.
Mistress?
Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. Val. Ay, boy, it's for love. Speed. Not of you. Val.
Of my mistress, then.
Speed. 'Twere good you knocked him. [E,.rit. Silo Servant, you?-re sad. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Tltu. Seem you that you are not? 10 Val. Haply I do. Tltu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I that I am not? Val. Wise. Tku. What instance of the contrary! Val. Your folly. Tku. And how quote you my folly 1 • Val. I quote it in your jerkiu. Tku. My jerkin is a doublet. 20 Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Tkze. How? Sil. What, angry, Sir Thuno! do you change colour? Val. Give him leave; madam; he is a kind of chameleon. Tku. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. Tltu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. 30 Vat I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin Sit. A fine volley of words. gentlemen, and quickly shot off. • Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Sit. 'Vho is that, scnant? Vai. Y ourself, ~eet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company. 40 Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Vat. I know it well, sir; you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give .your followers, for it appears, by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Silo No more, gentlemen, no more: here comes my father.
Enter DUKE. •
Duke.
Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: SO What say you to a letter from your friends Of much good news?
Peggy Livesey as Silvia, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938
19-20 jerkin ... doublet. The jerkin was a long jacket worn over or in place of a doublet, which was shorter. 35 gi,t'er. 'Direction-giver'; technically, the person who directs an archer's aim. 49 hard beset. Hotly besieged.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Act II Scene IV
91 pawn for fealty. Pledge for faithfulness.
Silvia, Valentine and Proteus. Illustration by Walter Crane, 1894
V a L M y lord, I will be thankful To any happy messenger from thence. Duke. Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman? Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth and worthy estimation And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son 7 Val. Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. 60 Duke. You know him well ? Val. I know him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed and spent our hours together: And though myself havt: been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To clothe mine age with angel-like perfeCtion. Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name, Made use and fair advantage of his days; His years but young, but his experience old; His head unmellow'd, but his judgement ripe; 70 And, in a word, for far behind his worth Comes all the praises that I now bestow. He is complete in feature and in mind With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good, He is as worthy for an em}?ress' love As meet to be an t'mperor s counsellor. Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me, With commendation from gre.at potentates: And here he means to spend his time awhile: 80 I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Duke. Welcome him tAen according to his worth. Silvia, I speak to you; and you, sir Thurio; For Valentine, I need not cite him to it: I will send him hither to you presently. [Exit. Val. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Silo Belike that now she hath enfranchised ~m
~
.Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. Silo Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? Val. Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say that Love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely objea: Love can wink. Silo H ave done, have done; here COmes the gentleman. Enter PROTEUS.
[Exit
THURIO.
Val. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I 100 beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Silo His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress. it is: sweet lady, entertain him
88
Act II Scene IV be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too Iowa mistress for so high a servant. Pro. Not so, sweet lady: but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability : Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. no Pro. My duty will I boast of; nothing else. • Silo And duty never yet did want his meed: Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. 1'11 die on him that says so but yourself. Silo That you are welcome 1 Pro. That you are worthless. TCI
Re-enter THURIO. Tku. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. Silo I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome: I '11 leave you to confer of home affairs: When you have done, we look to hear from you. Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship. [Exeunt Silvia a1zd Thttrio. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? • Pro. Your friends are well and have them much commended. Val. And how do yours T Pro. I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales oflove were wont to weary you; I know you joy not in a love-discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: I have done penance for contemnin~ Love, Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears and daily heart-sore sighs; For in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow .. o gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord And hath so humbled me as I confess There is no woe to his correCtion Nor to his service no such joy on earth. N ow no discourse, except it be of love; 140 Now can I break my fast, dine, sup and sleep, Upon the very naked name of love. Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. Was this the idol that you worship so? Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. No: but she is an earthly paragon. Val. Call her divine. Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. 0, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills, And I must minister the like to you. 1:50 Vai. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, • Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. • Pro. Except my mistress. Val. Sweet, except not any; • Except thou wilt except against my love. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own! • Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too :
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
112 meed. Reward. 123 have them much commended. Have sent their warm remembrances.
Valentine (DenholIn Elliot) and Proteus Godfrey), Stratford-upon-Avon, 1960
(Derek
152 principality. First and principal of women, referring to the hierarchy of angels. 154 S({;eet. Endearment applied to both men and women. 155 Except. Cnless. 157 prefer. Promote, advance.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Act II Scene V
1&1 alone. Unique. 112 do 1Wt dream on thee. Think about your feelings.
196 Is it mine, or Valentine's praise. Most modern editors have emended this to 'Is it mine eye, or Valentine's praise'.
201 advice. Knowledge.
209 picture I have yet beheld. Proteus may be merely referring to her appearance. Dr. Johnson thought that 'picture' meant 'portrait' and noted Shakespeare's mistake.
212 1W reason but. No doubt that. 214 compOls. Win.
jl···· 1.
Set design for a street in Milan by Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938
J.
:
Gower Parks,
She shall be dignified with this high honourTo bear my lady's train, lest the base e2I'th Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss 160 And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower And make rough winter everlastingly. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing To her whose worth makes other worthies nothing; • She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. Val Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, '170 The water neaar and the rocks pure gold. • Forgive me that I do not dream on thee'., Because thou see'st me dote upon my love. My foolish rival, that her father likes Only for his possessions are so huge, Is gone with her along, and I must after, For love, thou knowst, is full of jealousy. Pro. But she loves you! Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd: nay, more, our marriage-hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, 180 Determined of; how I must climb heI',-,:indow, The ladder made of cords, and all the means Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness. Good Proteus, go with me to my cham her, In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth: I must unto the road, to disembark Some necessaries that I needs must use, And then I'll presently attend you. Vai. Will you make haste? Tgo Pro. I will. [Exit Valentine. Even as one heat another heat expels, Or as one nail by strength drives out another, So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer objeCt quite forgotten. • tIs it mine, or Valentine's praise, Her true perfeCtion, or my false transgression, That makes me reasonless to reason thus? She is fair; and so is Julia that I love-That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd ; 200 Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, Bears no impression of the thing it was. Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold, And that I love him not as I was wont. 0, but I love his lady too too much, And that's the reason I love him so little. • How shall I dote on her with more advice, That thus without advice begin to love her! .'Tis but her piCture I have yet beheld. And that hath dazzled my reason's light; 210 But when I look on her perfeCtions, • There is no reason but I shall be blind. If I can check my erring love, I will; • If not, to compass her I'll use my skilL [EXit. SCENE
V.
The same.
A street.
Enter SPEED and LAUNCE severally. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan! LauNce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always,
Act II Scene VI that a man is never undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a place 011 some certain • shot be paid and the hostess say 'Welcome!' Speed. Come on, you madcap, 1'11 to the alehouse with you presently; where, for (;me shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. ~ut, sirrah, how did thy master part with Madam Julia? Launce. Marry, after they closed in earnt!st, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Launce. No. Speed. How then? shall he marry her? Launce. No, neither. Speed. What, are they broken? Launce. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why, then, how stands the matter with them? Launce. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. Launce. What a block art thou, that thou • canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou sayest? Launce. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but le.an, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Launce. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match ~ Launce. Ask my dog: if he say ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then that it will. Launce. Thou shalt never i"et such a secret .from me but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how sayest thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Launce. I never knew him otherwise. Speed. Than how? • Launce. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. So Launce. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. Launce. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the Iiame of a Christian. Speed. Why? Launce. Because thou hast not so much cha• rity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go? Speed. At thy service. [Exeunt. SCENE
VI.
Tlu same.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA 7 shot. Payment, reckoning ilt a tavern.
28 understands me. i.e. props me up.
Speed (Jack McGowran) and Launce (PatrickWymark) with dog, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1960 41 by a parable. Indirectly.
47 lubber. Lout. 61. ale. i.e. the 'Church-ale', a parish festival at which ale was sold to raise funds.
Tlu DUKE'spalace.
E nte,. PROTEUS. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn ; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; And even that puwer which gave me first my oath Provokes me to this threefold perjury ; Love bade me swear and Love bids me forswear. 91
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA Act II Scene VII 13 learn. Teach. 17 leave. Cease, stop. 2& Ethiope. The common Elizabethan term for a black African.
35 Myself in counsel, his rompetitor. i.e. with myself in the secret (and), his associate. 37 pretended. Intended.
43 tbift. Scheme.
o sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd,' Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it! At first I did adore a twink'ling star, But now I worship a celestial sun. :10 U nheedful vows may heedfully be broken, And he wants wit that wants resolved will eTo learn bis wit to exchange the bad for better. Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad, Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths. • I cannot leave to love, and yet I do; But there I leave to love where I should love. Julia I lose and Valentine I lose: If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; 20 If I lose them, thus find I by their loss For Valentine myself, for Julia Silvia. I to myself am dearer than a friend, F or love is still most precious in itself; And Silvia-witness Heaven, that made her fair I • Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope. I will forget that Julia is alive, Remembering that my love to her is dead; And Valentine I'tl hold an enemy, Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend. 30 I cannot now prove .constant to myself, Without some treachery used to Valentine. This night he meaneth with a corded ladder To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window, • MY!'elf in counsel, his competitor. N ow presently I'll give' her father notice • Of their disguising and pretended flight; Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine; For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter; But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross 40 By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, • As thou hast lent me wit to plot this·drift ! [Exit. SCENE
VII.
Verona.
JULIA'S "otISC.
Enter JOLIAandLucETTA.
Costume design for Julia by J. Gower Parks, Stratfordupon-Avon, I938
2
co~e. ~eech.
3 table. Writinll tablet. 5 lesson. Instruct, teach. Mean. Means. 18 inly. Inward.
'.luI. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle 'girl, assist me; .And even in kind love I do conjure thee, • Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly charader'd and engraved, .To lesson me and tell me some good mean How, with my honour, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus. Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long! 'luI. A true-devoted pilgrim iywere you, madam, ere I came; But by my commg I have made you happy. 30 • Sil. By thy approach thou makest me most unhappy. Jul. [Aside] And me, when he approacheth to your presence. Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, I would have been a breakfast to the beast, Rather than have false Proteus rescue me. 0, Heaven be judge how I love Valentine, Whose life's as tender to me as my soul! And full as much, for more there cannot be, I do detest false perjured Proteus. Therefore be gone; solicit me no more. 40 Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death, Would I not undergo for one calm look! 0, 'tis the curse in love, and still approved, When women cannot love where they're beloved! Silo When Proteus cannot love where he's beloved. Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love, For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths Descended into perjury, to love me. • Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two; And that's far worse than none; better have none Than plural faith whkh is too much by one: Thou counterfeit to thy true friend! Pro. In love Who respeCts friend? Sil. All men but Proteus. Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words Can no way change you to a milder form, .1 '11 woo you :ike a soldier, at arms' end, And love you 'gainst the nature oflove,-force yeo S il. 0 heaven! Pro. I'll force thee yield to my desire. Val. Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch, Thou friend of an ill fashion! . Pro. Valentine! 61 • Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith or love, For such is a friend now; treacherous man! Thou hast beguiled my hopes; nought but mine eye Could have persuaded me: now I dare not say I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me. Who should be frusted, when one's own right hand Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus, I am sorry 1 must never trust thee more, But count the world a stranger for thy sake. 70 The private wound is deepest: time most accurst, 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst! Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me. Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow Be a sufficient ransom for offence, I tender 't here; I do as truly suffer As e'er I did commit. Val. Then I am paid; And once again I do receive thee honest. Who by repentance is not satisfied Is nOl' of heaven nor earth, for these are pleased.
THE TWO
GEXTLKVIE~
OF VERONA
31 approoch. Amorous ad\'ances. 50 unless thou'dst two. i.e. unless you can be a faithful lo\'e to both Julia and me at the same time.
57 at arms' end. At sword's point.
Yalentine: 'Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch', Engra\'ing from a design by F. Hayman, Hanmer's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1744
62 comlllon. Base.
°
II3
THE TWO
GE~TLEME:\
OF VEROXA
86 u:ag. Boy.
Julia reveals herself to Proteus. Engra"ing from a painting by T. Stothard (I75S-1834)
103 cleft the root. i.e. of her heart. The phrase alludes to 'cleaving the pin' in archery.
104 this habit. i.e. her boy's clothes. 117 close. Union.
126 ,;v:e back. Back off. 127 measure. Reach (of a sword). 129 Verona. Thurio comes from Milan. Shakt.'Speare has forgotten.
137 lIIealiS. Efforts.
114
Act V Scene IV By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeased: 81 And, that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine in Silvia I give thee. :lui. 0 me unhappy! [Swoons. Pro. Look to the boy. • Val. Why,boy! why, wag! hownow! what's the matter? Look up; speak. Jul. 0 good sir, my master charged me to deliver a ring to Madam Silvia, which, out of my 'negleCt, was never done. 90 Pro. Where is that ring, boy? jul. Here 'tis; this is it. Pro. How! let me see: Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia. Jul. 0, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook: This is the ring you sent to Silvia. Pro. But how eamest thou by this ring? At my depart I gave this un to Julia. jul. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither. Pro. How! Julia! zoo jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, And entertain'd 'em deeply in her heart. • H ow oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root ! .0 Proteus, let this habit make thee blush! Be thou ashamed that I have took upon me Such an immodest raiment, if shame live In a disguise oflove: I t is the lesser blot, modesty finds, Women to change their shapes than men their minds. Pro. Than men their minds! 'tis true. 0 heaven i were man z 10 But constant, he were perfect. That one error Fills him with faults; makes him run through all the sins: Inconstancy falls off ere it begins. What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye? Val. Come, come, a hand from either: • Let me be blest to make this happy close ; 'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes. Pro. Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for ever. jul. And I mine. Z20
Enter Outlaws, witlt. DUKE andTHURlo. Outlaws. A prize, a prize, a prize! Val. Forbear, forbear, I say! it is my lord the duke. Your grace is welcome to a man disgraced, Banished Valentine. Duke. Sir Valentine! Tlt.II. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine. • Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death; • Come not within the measure of my wrath; Do not name Silvia thine; if once again, • tV erona shall not hold thee. Here she stands : Take but possession of her with a touch: %30 I dare thee but to breathe upon my love. Tku. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I: I hold him but a fool that will endanger His body for a girl that loves him not: I claim her not, and therefore she is thine. Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou. • To make such means for her as thou hast done
Act V Scene IV And leave her on such slight conditions. Now, by the honour of my ancestry, I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine, I40 And think thee worthy of an empress' love: Know then, I here forget all former griefs, • Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again, • Plead a new state in thy unrival'd merit, To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine, Thou art a gentleman and well derived; Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserved her. Vai. I thank your grace; the gift hath made me happy. I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, To grant one boon that I shall ask of you. I50 Duke. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be. Vat. These banish'd men that I have kept withal Are men endued with worthy qualities: Forgive them what they have committed here And let them be recaU'd from their exile: They are reformed, civil, full of good And fit for great employment, worthy lord. Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them and thee: Dispose of them as thou know'st their deserts. • Come, let us go: we will includt: all jars 160 • With triumphs, mirth and rare solemnity. Vat. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold With our discourse to make your grace to smile. What think you of this page, my lord? Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes. Vat. I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy. Dttke. What mean you by that saying? Vat. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned. Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance but to hear 170 The story of your loves discovered: That done, our day of marriage shall be yours; One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
143 repeal. Recall. 144 Plead a new state. Take up a new position (with regard to Valentine's merits). 1 &0 jars. Dis.agreements.
161 solemnity. Festivity.
[Exeunt.
115
The Taming
of the Shrew
The Play. In Elizabethan times the word 'shrew' was pronounced 'shrow', as we still do in Shrewsbury, and as the rhymes make clear in the play-there is a good deal of rhyme in it. It follows upon the heels of The Comedy of Errors and The Two Gentlemen of Verona; once Shakespeare got going he was a very rapid worker, as everything shows and Ben Jonson tells us. In some contrast to those two plays the Shrew goes straight forward to its target, with one forward impulse, high spirits, and complete assurance of technique. It is a gleeful play, on a subject highly popular with the Elizabethans, and, dealing with 'the war between the sexes', has an archetypal situation to make play with. Hence its undying appeal. That it appealed much to Shakespeare and released his genius we can tell from its memorable characters: Kate the reformed shrew (,Kiss me, Kate'), her wooer Petruchio, and Christopher Sly, the Warwickshireman from Shakespeare's home-ground, who provides the framework for the play and watches the fun from up above in the gallery. These are the first of his unforgettable comic creations, along with Launce. At the same time there is plenty that brings this original play into close association with the other two. The suitors gain access to the younger daughter, Bianca, under the guise of schooling her in books and music. We have several Latin tags from Ovid and Terence, the latter through the medium of Lyly's grammar, used in all schools. The names Tranio and Grumio come from Plautus. Classical references come easily and naturally in all the early plays, since Shakespeare was close to his schooling. Lucrece was in his mind-many references to her occur all through his work, as Venus and Adonis is close: Adonis painted by a running brook And Cytherea all in sedges hid. Even more rtalian phrases occur. which would come from his association with Florio, who was half-Italian, as was also the Dark Lady, Emilia Lanier. Her father was Baptista Bassano. and a leading character is a Baptista, father of Kate and Bianca. 1I6
Introduction
THE
TA~II::'\G
OF THE SHREW
A
Pleafant Conceited Hifiorie, called The taming of a Sbrew.
Far left: The quarto of a comedy similar in titre, general conception and plot to Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew and probably the basis for his play Left: A I9th century engraving of Barton-on-theHeath, the Warwickshire 'L'illage
l'rimed It London by peter Short and .",. INfoItJ ":Y ~. and so displease Her brother's noontide with the Antipodes. It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him; So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim. Dem. So should the murder'd look, and so should I, Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, 60 As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere. Her. What's this to my Lysander 7 where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me ? Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds. Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then r Henceforth be never number'd among men! 0, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake I Durst thou have look'd upon him being awake, .And hast thou kiU'd him sleeping? brave touch! 70 Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung. • Dem. You spend your passion on a misprised mood: I am not guilty of Lysander's blood: Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell. H cr. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. All if I could, what should I get therefore? Her. A privilege never to see me more. And from thy hated presence part I so : 80
°
25 6
Act III Scene II
A MIDSUMMER
~IGHT'S
DREAM
85 For debt . .. owe. Sorrow has caused lack of sleep.
See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein: Here therefore for a while I will remain. So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow • For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe: Which now in some slight measure it will pay, .!ffor his tender here I make some stay.
87 tender. Offer.
[Ltes down and sleeps. Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite And laid the love-juice on some true-love's sight: Of thy misprision must perforce ensue go Some true love tum'd and not a false turn'd true. • Puck. Then fate o'er-rules, that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Ok. About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find: • All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear : By some illusion see thou bring her here: • 1'11 charm his eyes against she do appear. Puck. I go, I go; look how I go, 100 Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit. OOe. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye. When his love he doth espy. Let her shine as gloriously As the Venus of the sky. When thou wakest, if she be by) Beg of her for remedy.
Re-enter PUCK. Puck. Captain of our fairy band,
•
Helena is here at hand; And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fQnd pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Ok. Stand aside: the noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake. Puck. Then will two at once woo one; That must needs be sport alone: And those things do best please me That befal preposterously.
tIo
Robert Helpmann as Oberon, Old Vic, London, 1954
92-93 Thellfate ... oath. Then fate rul~ supreme; one man in a million keeps faith, the rest break promise after promise.
96 chee/'. Face. 99 agaimt. By the time. 120
Enter LYSANDER and HELENA. Lys. Why should you think that I should woo
114 jOlldpageallt. Foolish show. 124-125 th~c
'I:mcs
50 • . •
appears. Tcars provc the truth of
yows.
in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: • Look, when I vow, I weep: and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true? Hel. You do advance your cunning more and mot'e. When truth kills truth, 0 devilish-holy fray I These vows are Hermia's: will you give hero'erf Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: 131 Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh, and both as light as tales. I.,Jls. I had no judgement when to her I swore. Hel. Nor none, in my mind, DOW you give her o'er.
257
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act III Scene II
141 Taurus. A mountain range in Turke~·.
pure
'That congealed white, high Taurus snow . Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
150 in souls. Together.
152 gentle. Well-born. 157 trim. Fine (ironical). 175 aby. Buy. 177-180 Dark ... recompense. In the darkness when the eye cannot sc'e, hearing becomes more acute. 188 oes. Orbs.
LJls. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Dem. [Awaking] 0 Helen, goddess, nymph, perfeCl:, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. 0, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, temptin, ~! • That pure congealed white, high Taurus snow, Fann'd with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold'st up thy hand: 0, let me kiss This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss! Hel. 0 spite! 0 hell!. I see you all are bent To set against me for your merriment: If you were civil and knew courtesy, You would not do me thus much inJUry. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, • But you must join in souls to mock me too? ISO If you were men, as men you are in show, • You would not use a gentle lady so ; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. You both are rivals, and love Hermia; And now both rivals, to mock Helena: • A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes With your derision! none of noble sort Would so offend a virgin and extort x60 A poor soul's patience, all to make you sport. Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so : For you love Hermia; this you know I know: And here, with all good. will, with all my heart, In Hermia's love I yield you up my part; And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love and will do till my death. H e/. Never did mockers waste more idle breath. Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia: I will none: If e'er I loved her, all that love is gone. 110 My heart to her but as guest-wis~ sojourn'd, And now to Helen is it home return'd, There to remain. Lys. Helen, it is not so. Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, • Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. Look, where thy love comes: yonder is thy dear.
Re-enter HERMIA. Her. Dark night, that from the eye his functiontakes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes: Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompense. ISo Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found; Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. But why unkindly didst thou leave me so? Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go Y Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? Lys. Lysander's love, that would not let him bide, Fair Helena, who more engilds the night .Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek'st thou me? could. not this make thee know, The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? 190 Her. You speak not as you think: it cannot be. Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy I Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three •
Act III Scene II To fashion this false sport, in spite of me. • Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid! Have you conspired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel that we two have shared, The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent, When we have chid the hasty-footed time 200 For parting us,-O, is it all forgot? All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? • We, Hermia, like two artifirial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices and minds, • Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, But yet an union in partition; 210 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; • Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one and crowned with one crest. And will you rent our ancient love asunder, To join with men ill scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly: Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury. H n'. I am amazed at your passionate words. I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me. 221 Hil. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, To follow me and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius, Who even but now did spurn me with his foot, To call me goddess, nymph, divine and ra.re, Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love, so rich within his soul, And tender me, forsooth, affettion, 230 But by your setting on, by your consent? What though I be not so in grace as you, So hung upon with love, so fortunate, But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise. Her. I understand not what you mean by this. Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks, • Make mouths upon me when I tum my back; Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up : This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. 240 lfyou have any pity, grace, or manners, • You would not make me such an argument. But fare ye well: 'tis partly my own fault; Which death or absence soon shall remedy. Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse: My love, my lifel my soul, fair Helena I Hel. excellent! Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so. • Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel. Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat: Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers. 250 Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do: I swear by that which I will lose for thee, To prove him false that says I love thee not. Dent. I say I love thee more than he can do. Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. Dem. Quick, come! Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?
°
A MIDS"CM:MER ::\IGHT'S DREAM
195 Il1jllriollS. Insulting.
-.
.~ ... : ..... .. ~ . "
Helena: '0, is it all forgot? All school-days . . .' Illustration by Gordon Browne from Henry Irving's Shakespeare, 1888
203 Q1·tificial. Skilled in art. 208 iflcOIporate. Joined in body.
213 Trco of the fil'St. An heraldic term. This means the repetition of identical quarterings, i.e. Helena and Hermia had but a single heart. 238 J,fake . .. back. :\Iake faces behind my back.
242 argument. Object of mockery. 248 entreat. Prenil by pleading.
259
A iVIIDse:.vnlER ::\IGHT'S DREA:\'1
Act III Scene II
257 Ethiupl'. BlackamoOl-, referring to Hermia's dark complexion.
258-259 Seell/ . .. go! DerrlPtrius is accusing Lysander of merely pretending to want to fight a duel. 267-268 bolld ... bond. A pun on the meanings 'chain' and 'a document binding parties on oath'.
272 tchat lines. "'hat news is this? 288 puppet. Doll. Hermia picks this up us un insulting reference to her height.
289 that £Cll)' • •• game. So that's your line of attack.
•
Lys. Away, you Ethiope ! Dem. tNo, no; he'll ••• • Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow, But yet come not: you are a tame man, go! Lys. . Hang off, thou cat, thou burr I vile 260 thing, let loose, Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent I Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this? Sweet love,Lys. Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence I Her. Do you not jest? Hel. Yes, sooth; and so do you. Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee. • Dem. I would I had your bond, for I perceive A weak bond holds you: I'll not trust your word. Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so. 270 Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? • Hate me ! wherefore? me I what news, my love! Am not I Hermia.? are not you Lysander? I am as fair now as I was erewhile. Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me: Why, then you left me-O, the gods forbid!In earnest; shall I say? Lys. Ay, by my life; And never did desire to see thee more. Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt; Be certain, nothing truer j 'tis no jest 280 That I do hate thee and love Helena. Her. me ! you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief oflove! what, have you come by night And stolen my love's heart from him? He!. Fine, i'faithl Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? .Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppP.t, you! • Her. Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare ago Between our statures; she hath urgud her height; And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him. And are you grown so high in his esteem, Because I am so dwarfish and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak; How low am I? I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. Hel. I pray you, though you mock me; gentlemen, .Let her not hurt me: I was never curst; 300 I have no gift at all in shrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice : Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, Because she is something lower than myself, That I can match her. Her. Lower! hark, again. H el. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong'd you; Save that, in love unto Demetrius, 310 I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He follow'd you; for love I follow'd him;
°
°
Hermia (Zena Walker) and Lys.ander (Tony Britton), George De\'ine's production, "Stratford-upon-Avon, 195+ 300
260
CUl'st.
Shrewish.
Act III Scene II But he hath chid me hence and threaten'dme To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too: And now, so ~ will let me quiet go, To Athens Will I bear my folly back And follow you no further: let me go: You see how simple and how fond I am. Her. Why, get you gone : who is't that hinders you? Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind. Her. What, with Lysander? Hel. With Demetrius. 320 Lys. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena. Dem. No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part. • Hel. 0, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to scbool; And though she be but littlet she is fi~rce. Her. 'Little' again! nothing but 'low' and 'little J ! Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her. Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf; • You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; You bead, you acorn. Dem. You are too officious 330 In her behalf that scorns your services. Let her alone: speak not of Helena; .Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend Never so little show of 10'Ve to her, Thou shalt aby it. Lys. Now she holds me not; N ow follow, if thou darest, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in Helena. Dem. Follow! nay, I'll go with thee, cheek • by j ole. [ExeuntLysanderandDemetrius. • Hn'. You, mistress, all this coil is 'long of you: Nay, go not back. Hel. . I will not trust you, I, 340 Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray, My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit. Her. I am amazed, and know not what to say. [Exit.
Obe. This is thy negligence : still thou mistakest, Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully. Puck. Believe me, king of shadows. I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the man By the Athenian garments he had on ? And so far blameless proves my enterprise, 3.50 That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes; And So far am I glad it so did sort As this their jangling I esteem a sport. Obe. .Thou see'st these lovers seek a place to , fight: Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night: • T~ starry welkin cover thou anon • With droopiug fog as black as Acheron, And lead these testy rivals so astray As one come not within another's way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, • Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; 361 And sometime rail thou like Demetrius; And from each other look thou lead them thus, Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: Then cnlSh this herb into Lysander's eye; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
-
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
323 hem and shrewd. Bitter and sharp-tongued.
329 knot-grass. A weed supposed to stunt growth. 333 intend. Pretend. 338 jole. Jowl. 339 all this . .. ),011. All this tunnoil is due to you.
Costume designs for Titania and Oberon. Illustration by Paul Kash from Players' Shakespeare, 1924 356 welkin. Sky.
357 Acheron. A river in the Underworld.
361 wrong. Insult.
A MIDSlJMMER
~IGHT'S
DREAM
Act III Scene II
The Lovers' Quarrel (Ross Alexander, Dick Po,\yell, Jean Muir, and Olivia de Havilland). From ::\1a.~ Reinhardt's and William Dieterle's film, CSA, 1935
369 wonted. Usual. 370 derision. Ludicrous diversion. 373 With league. In a union. date. Duration. 379 dragons. Dragons drew the chariot of Kight.
380 Am'om's harbinger. The morning star. 381-387 ghosts . .. night. Ghosts of people who lacked a proper funeral, like those dead from drowning and suicide, were buried at cross-roads. At night these spirits wandered, but returned to their graves by sunrise. 387 aye. Ever. 389 morning's lo'!.'e. Either Aurora herself or her !O\'er Cephalus.
402
druu.'ll.
Sword in hand.
409 recreant. Coward.
,
To take from thence all error with his might, .And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. • When they next wake, all this derision 370 Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision, And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, • With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, . I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy; And then I will her charmed eye release From monster's view. and all thmgs shall be peace. Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, • For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, .And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; 380 • At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to churchyards: damned spiRts all, That in crossways and floods have' burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone; For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They wilfully themselves exile from light .And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night. Obe. But we are spirits of another sort: • I with the morning's love have oft made sport, And, likl: a forester, the groves may tread, 390 Even till tile eastern gate, all fiery-red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams, But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay: We may effeCt this business yet ere day. [Exit. Puck. Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down: I am feard in field and town: Goblin, lead them up and down. Here COlll6S one. 400
Re-enter LY~ANDER. Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius 1 speak thou now. • Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou? Lys. I will be with thee straight. Puck. F'ollow me, then, To plainer ground. [Ext't Lysander, asfollowing the voice. Re-enter DEMETRIUS. Dem. Lysander! speak again: Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head? Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look'st for wars, .And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child; I'll whip thee with a rod: he is defiled 410 That draws a sword on thee. Dem. Yea, art thou there? Puck. Follow my voice: we'll try no manhood here. [Exeunt. Re-enter LYSANDER. Lys. He goes before me and still dares me on: \Vhen I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter-heeI'd than I: I follow'd fast, but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me. [Lies down,] Come, thou gentle day!
262
Act IV Scene I
A MIDSeMMER XIGHT'S DREAM
For if but once thou show me thy grey light, I'll find Demetrius and revenge this spite. [Sleeps.
Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS. Puck. Ho, ho, ho I Coward, why cornest thou not f 42% • Dem. Abide me, if thou darest; for well I wot Thou runn'st before me, shifting every place, And darest not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou now? Puck. Come hither: I am here. Dem. Nay, then, thou mock'st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by daylight see : Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on this cold bed. By day's approach look to be visited. 430 [Lt'es down and sleeps. Re-enter HELENA. He!. 0 weary night, 0 long and tedious night, • Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east, That I may back to Athens by daylight, From these that my poor company detest : And sleep, that sometimes shuts· up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company. [Lt'es down and sleeps. Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds makes up foul'. Here she comes, curst and sad; Cupid is a knavish lad, 440 Thus to make poor fema1es mad. Re-enter HERAUA. Never so weary, never so in woe, Bedabbled with the dew and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. Here will I rest me till the break of day. Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray! [Lies down and sleeps. Puck. On the ground Sleep sound: I'll apply 450 To your eye, Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing tlte juice on Lysander's eyes. When thou wakest, Thou takest True delight In the sight Of thy former lady's eye: . And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, rn your waking shall be shown: 460 Jack shall have Jill: ~ ought shall go ill; . The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well. [Exit.
Puck (:\Iickey Rooney) and Hermia (Olivia de Ha,-i11and)_ From :\Iax Reinhardt's and William Dieterle's film, USA, 1933 422 [t'ell I
[cot_
I know well.
432 Abate. Shorten.
Her.
ACT IV. SCENE I. The same. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA lying asleep
Enter
TITANIA and BOTTOM; PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and other Fairies attending-; OBERON beh.ind un~een.
•
Tt'ta. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,
Puck placing the flower juice on Lysander's eyes. Engra,-ing from a design by H. Gravelot from Theobald's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1744 2 coy. Caress.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act IV Scene I
Illustration by Katherine Cameron, 1916 20 neaf. Hand or fist.
21 leave your courtesy. Stop hewing.
25 Cava/ery. Cavalier. 31 tongs and the bones. Instruments used in country music.
35 bottle. Bundle. 41 exposition. Bottom means 'disposition'.
And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. Bot. Where's Peaseblossom f Peas. Ready. Bot. Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where's Mounsieur Cobweb f Cob. Ready. Bot. Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the aCtion, mounsieur; and, good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed! Mus. Ready. • Bot. Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustard• seed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good mounsieur. Mus. What's your will? Bot. Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help .Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber's, mounsieur; for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch. Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? 29 Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music. • Let's have the tongs and the bones. Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a • great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow. Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts. Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your .people stir me: I have an exposition of sleep 42 come upon me. Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away.
[Exeuntfairies.
So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gentlyentwist; the female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. 0, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They .r/eep.
Enter Pucx. Ok.
Opposite above: Bottom: 'Scratch my head .. .' Engraving from a painting by H. Fuseli (1741-1825) Opposite below: Titania awakes. Engraving from a painting by H. Fuseli (1741-1825)
[Advancm.fJ Welcome, good Robin. See'st thou this sweet sight f Herdotage now I do begin to pity: 50 F or, meeting her of late behind the wood. Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her and fall out with her; For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew, which sometime on the buds Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flowerets' eyes Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her 60 And she in mild terms begg'd my patience, I then did ask of her her Changeling child; Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent
Act IV Scene I
A MIDSVMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act IV Scene I
66 imtm'jection. Defect caused by the juice. 76 Dian's bud. This is probably the agnus castus or Chaste Tree which was thought to preserve chastity. Cupid's flower. The pansy. 108 observation. Observing the traditional rites associated with the first day of May.
109 vaward. Vanguard or early morning. 111 Uncouple. Unleash.
To bear him to my bower in fairy land. And now I have the boy, I will undo .This hateful imperfeCtion of her eyes ~ And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain; That, he awaking when the other do, Mayall to Athens back again repair 'JO And think no more of this night's accidents But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the fairy queen. Be as thou wast wont to be ; See as thou wast wont to see: • Dian's bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen. Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour'd of an ass. 80 Obe. There lies your love. Tita. How came these things to pass? 0, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now! Obe. Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep of all the.se five the sense. Tita. Music, ho I music, such as charmeth sleep! [Music, still. Puck. Now, when thou wakest,· with thine own fool's eyes peep. Obe. Sound, mUSlC! Come, my queen, take . hands with me, 8.t is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, 10 • Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; • And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Tums them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; 20 Or in the night, imagining some fe.ar, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together,
The poet. Drawing by
J. H.
Mortimer, 1775
11 brov.: of Egypt. Face of a gypsy. 14 bodies JOl'th. Gh'es concrete form to.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act V Scene I
39 abridgement. Entertainment.
More witnesseth than fancy's images And grows to something of great, constancy; But, howsoever, strange and admirable. Tile. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.
Enter
Theseus and the Centaur. Engraving of a Greek sculpture from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
48-49 'The riot . . . rage'. The 'Thnlcian singer', Orpheus, was torn to death by the drunken female followers of the god Bacchus. 50 device. Spectacle. 52 thrice three 11l/uses. In classical mythology each of the nine sister Muses presided over one branch of knowledge or art. 55 Not sorting with. Not suitable for.
74 /Inbreathed. Unexercised.
LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, HELENA.
and
Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts! Lys. More than to us 30 Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed! The. Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bed-time Y Where is our usual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand Y Is there no play, To ease tbe anguish of a torturing bour? Call Philostrate. Phil. Here, mighty Theseus. • Tile. Say, what abridgement have you for this evening! What masque? what music? How shall we beguile 40 The lazy time, if not with some delight? Phil. There is a brief how many sports are ripe: Make choice of which your highness will see first. (Giving a paper. The. [Reads] 'The battle with the Centaurs. to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.' We'll none of that: that have I told my love, In glory- of my kinsman Hercules. .[Reads] 'The riot of the tipsy Bacchauals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage.' .That is an old device; and it was play'd 30 When I from Thebes came last a conqueror .[Reads] 'The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of Learning. late deceased in beggary.' That is some satire, keen and critic~ .Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. [R eads] , A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragi cal mirth.> Merry and tragical! tedious and brief! That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord 1 60 Phil. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long, Which is as brief as I have known a play; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes it tedious; for in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted: And tragical, my noble lord, it is; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess, Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed. 70 The. What are they that do play it? Phil. Hard-handed men that work in Athens here, Which never labour'd in their minds till now, .And now have toird their unbreathed memories With this same play, against your nuptial. The. And we will hear it. PM/. No, my noble lord; I t is not for you: I have heard it over,
Act V Scene I And it is nothing, nothing in the world ; Unless you can find sport in their intents, • Extremely stretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain, 80 To do you service. The. 1 will hear that play; For never anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in: and take .your places, ladies. fExit PlUlostrate. • Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged And duty in his service perishing. Tke. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Hip. He says they' can do nothing in this kind. The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. OUT' sport shall be to take what they mistake : ~ .And what poor duty cannot do, noble respeCt t Takes it in might, not merit. • Where I have come, great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, • Mak~ periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their' praCtised accent in their fears And in conclusion dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet, Out of this silence yet I pick'd a welcome; 100 And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity • In least speak most, to my capacity.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
80 stretch'd and conn'd, Strained and learned.
85-86 I lO'l:e ... perishing. I do not enjoy seeing poor people struggling with something they are incapable of performing.
Re-enter PHILOSTRATE. •
Pkt'l. So please your grace, the Prologue is address'd. Tke. Let him approach. [Flourisk oftrumjets. Enter QUINcEfor the Prologue.
Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To show our simple skill, 110 That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then we come but in despite. We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight We are not here. That you should here repent you, • The aCtors are at hand and by their show You shall know all that you are like to know. • The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. Lys. He hath rid his prologue like a rough • colt ; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not enough to speak, but to speak true. Hip. Indeed he hath played on his prologue like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government. The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? Enter
Pro.
PVRAMUS and THISBE, WALL, MOONSHINE, ana LION.
Gentles, 'perchance you wonder at this show; But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is PyramlL'>, if you would know; 130
F. R. Benson, English Edwardian actor, as Theseus, Court Theatre, London, 1915
91-92 Alld what . .. merit. The noble mind recognizes the effort made and does not simply judge the result.
93 clerks. Scholars . 96 periods. Full stops.
105 to my capacitJ" In my view. 106 address'd. Ready. 116 shoo:;. The mimed dumb show that usually accompanied the prologue. 118 points. Punctuation or niceties. 120 stop. An equestrian term for pulling up a horse, or a mark in punctuation-a punning, double meaning.
271
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM Act V Scene I This beauteous lady Thisby is certain. This man, with lime and rough-cas.t, doth present Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder; And through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are content To whiiiper. At the which let no man wonder. This man, with Ian thorn, dog, and bush of thorn, Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know, By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo . • This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name, 140 The trusty Thisby, coming first by night, Did scare away, or rather did affnght; .And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall l Which Lion vile with bloody mouth dld stain. Anon comes Pyramus, sweet routh and tall, And finds his trusty Thisby s mantle slain: Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, He bravely broach'd hls boiling bloody breast; And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade, His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain lSI .At large discourse, while here they do remain. [Exelmt Prologue, Pyramus, Tkis6e, Lion, and
The Mechanicals performing their play, George Devine's production Stratford-upon-Avon, 1954
140 hight. Called. 143 did fall. Let fall. 152 At lmge. At length. 164 right and sinister. Right and left, perhaps meaning horizontal.
166 lim.e and hair. Plaster. 183 sensible. Conscious.
Moonshine. The. I wonderif the lion be to spe.ak. Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do. Wall. In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall ; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. 161 This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so : .And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper. • Tke. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better? Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, my lord.
Re-enter PvRAMUS. The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence' Pyr. 0 grim-Iook'd night! 0 night with hue so black! 171 o night, which ever art when day is not! o night, 0 night! alack, alack, alack, I fear my Thisby's promise is forgot! And thou, 0 wall, 0 sweet, 0 lovely wall, That stand'st between her father's ground and mine! Thou wall, 0 wall, 0 sweet and lovely wall, Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne ! [Wall holds up hisfingers. Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this! But what see I ? No Thisby do I see. 180 o wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss! Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me ! • The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse again. Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. 'Deceiving me' is Thisby's cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall
Act V Scene I see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes. Re-eltter THISBE. This. wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, 190 For parting my fair Pyramus and me ! My cherry lips have often kiss'd thy stones, Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee. Pyr. I see a voice: now will I to the chink, To spy an I can hear my Thisby's face. Thisby! This. My love thou art, my love I think. Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace; . • And, like Limander, am I trusty still. • This. And I like Helen, till the :Fates me kill. • Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true. This. As Shafalus to Proerus, J to you. Pyr. 0, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall! This. I kiss the wall's hole, not your lips at all. Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me straightway? This. 'Tide life, 'tide death, I come without delay. [Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe. Wall. Thus have I, Wall, my part discharged so; And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit. The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so 2II wilful to hear without warning. H;P. This is the siHiest stuff that ever I heard. • Tile. The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. Rip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs. Tile. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in, a man and a lion. 221
°
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
199 Limander. Probably Leander who every night swam the Hellespont to visit Hero. 200 Helell. Probably Hero since Helen of Troy is hardly an example of fidelity. 201 Shafalus to Pr(JC1US. Probably Cephalus and Pro-
cris, another pair of legendary lovers. 213 in this kind. Of this sort, i.e. plays. 227 fell. Fierce. Z29 'twere . .. life. More than my life is worth. 237 carry. Overcome.
Re-enter LION and MOONSHINE.
Lion. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, May now perchance both quake and tremble here, When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am • A lion-fell. nor else no lion7s dam; For, if! should as lion come in strife • Into this place, 'twere pity on my life. The. A very gentle beast, and of a good con231 science. Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw. Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour. The. True; and a goose for his discretion. Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot • carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose. The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot ~ his valour; for the goose carries not the fox. It 15 well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon. 273
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act V Scene I Moon. This lanthom doth the homed moon present;• Dent. He should have worn the horns on his head. • The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible within the circumference. Moon. This lanthorn doth the homed moon present; Myself the man i' the moon do seem to be. The. This is the greates.t error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lanthorn. How is it else the man i' the moon? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; .for, you see, it is already in snuff. Hip. I am aweary of this moon: would he would change! The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time. Lys. Proceed, Moon. 260 Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog. Dem. Why, all these should be in the lanthom; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.
7/u.
•
C~
Costume designs for The Clowns. Illustration by Paul N ash from Players' Shakespeare, 1924
243 Lalit/lOrn. Lanterns wcre often made of horn. 244-24B hOl"/ls 011 his head. A cuckold was said to horns, and this is the subject of frequent jokes.
h~l\"e
R e-t!1tier THISBE. This. This is old Ninny's tomb. Where is my love? Lion. [Roaring] Oh-- [Thisbe runsojf. Dem. Well roared, Lion. 270 The. Well run, Thisbe. Hip. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. [The Lion shakes ThisOe's mantle, and exit. • Tlu. Well moused, Lion. Lys. And so the lion vanished. Dem. And then came Pyramus.
246 no crescent. Not waxin2.
R e-e"ter PVRAMUS. 254 in muff. A pun on the meanings 'offended' and 'in need of putting out'.
274 moused. Shaken.
283 dole. Grief. 290 Fates. The threc fates spun the thread that determined the length of a humHn's life. 291
thTl/III.
The loose end ofthe warp thread.
296 frame. Create.
274
Pyr. .sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright; For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams, I trust to take of truest Thisby sight. 280 But stay, 0 spite! But mark, poor knight, • What dreadful dole is here! Eyes, do you see? How can It be? o dainty duck! 0 dear! Thy mantle good, What, stain'd with blood! Approach, ye Furies fell! • 0 Fates, come, come, 290 • Cut thread and thrum; Quail, crush, conclude, and quell ! The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad. Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man. • Pyr. 0 wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame? Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear: Which is-no, no-which was the fairest dame That lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd with cheer.
Act V Scene I Come, tears, confound; 300 Out, sword, and wound The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, Where heart doth hop: [Stabs kimself. Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon, take thy flight : [ExitM(}()nskine. Now die, die, die, die, die. (Dies. Dem. No die but an ace, for him; for he is but one. Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. The. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass. Hip. How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? Tlu. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her passion ends the play. 321
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
324 mote. A small particle.
326 warrant. Defend. 330 videlicet. From the Latin 'one may see'; or 'as follows'.
Re-enter THISBE.
HiP. Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief. • Dem. A mote will tum the balance, which Pyramus, which Thisbe, is the better; he for a • man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us. Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes. • Dem. And thus she means, videlicet!- 330 Tnis. Asleep, my love? What, dead, my dove? Pyramus, arise! Speak, speak. Quite dumb! Dead, dead? A. tomb Must cover thy sweet eyes. These lily lips, This cherry nose, These yeUow cowslip cheeks, Are gone, are gone: 34-0 Lovers, make moan: His eyes were green as leeks. • 0 Sisters Three, Come, come to me, With hands as pale as milk ; Lay them in gore, • Since you have shore With shears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word: Come, trusty sword; 350 • Come, blade, my breast imbrue: [Stabs ,,"self. And, farewell, friends; Thus Thisby ends: Adieu, adieu, adieu. [Dies. Tile. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead. D,m. Ay, and Wall too. Bot. [Startinr up] No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please .you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company! "';61 The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your pfay needs no excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed.
o
Flute as Thisbe; costume design by Norman Wilkinson,
Savoy Theatre, London, 1914 343 Sisters Three. The three Fates.
347 shtlTe. Shorn.
351 imbrue. Stain with blood. 360 &rgomask. A country dance named after Befiamo
in Italy.
275
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Act V Scene I
370 iron tongue. Bell. 371 fairy time. Midni/lht when the fairies and /lhosts came out. 374 palpable-gross. Obviously silly or stupid,. 381 fordone. Tired out. 382 brands. LO/ls. 391 triple Hecate's. Hecate ruled in three realms, i.e. she was Diana on Earth, Cynthia in Heaven, and Proserpine in Hades. team. Her chariot was drawn by black horses or dra/lons.
Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But, ccme, your Bergomask: let your epilogue alone. [A dance. • The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve: • Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. 371 I fear we shall out-sleep the coming mom As much as we this night have overwatch'd. • This palpable-&"ross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity.. [Exeunt.
Enter
• •
•
•
PUCK.
Puck. N ow the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the }.leavy ploughman snores, 380 All with weary task fordone. N ow the wasted brands do glow, Whils. the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. N ow it is the time of night That the graves all gaping wide, Everyone lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run 390 By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow'd house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door.
Enter OBERON and TITANIA witl" tMir train.
Hecate. Print by William Blake, 1795
397 behind the door. From behind the door. 423 take his gait. Make his way.
Obe. Through the house give glimmering light, By the dead and drowsy fire : Every elf and fairy sprite 400 Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty, after me, Sing, and dance it trippingly. Tita. First, rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note: Hand in hand, with fairy ¥race, Will we sing, and bless thIS place. [Song-and danee. Obe. Now, until the break of day, Through this house each fairy stray. To the best bride-bed will we, 410 Which by us shall blessed be; And the Issue there create Ever shall be fortunate. So shall all the couples three Ever true in loving be; And the blots of Nature's hand Shall not in their issue stand; Never mole, hare lip, nor scar, N or mark prodigious, such as are Despised in nativity, 4~ Shan upon their children be. With this field-dew consecrate, • Every fairy take his gait: And each several chamber bless, Through this palace, with sweet peace ; And the owner of it blest
Act V Scene I
• •
•
•
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM
Ever shall in safety rest. Trip away: make no stay: Meet me all by break of day. [Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train. Puck. If we shadows have offended, 430 Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a d~ Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to'scape the serpent's tongue, 440 We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call: So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robm shall restore amends. [Exit.
Oberon: 'Trip away .. .' PaintingbyT. von Holst (18101844)
434 idle. Foolish. 435 No more yielding. Means 'no more than a dream'. 440 serpent's tongue. The hisses from an audience. 444 Git.'e me YOllr hands. Applaud.
Puck or Robin Goodfellow. Paintini after Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792)
277
The Merchant of Venice
THE ALERT DRAMATIST with his ear to the ground for what v>'Quld appeal-what we would call box-office returns-ever since he began successfully with the Henry VI plays, found a topical subject to hand for The Merchant of Venice. For, at the time and for long afterwards, the play was often referred to as 'The Jew of Venice'; Shylock was the dominant character, the one who remains above all the rest in the mind, and the play relates to the theme that has had so terrible a resonance in our time: the Jew in Europe and the evil phenomenon of anti-Semitism. It is necessary to confront it directly and simply, without flinching. Europe has had a shocking record in regard to the Jews-to my mind unforgj,-ablereaching its evil climax in our demotic days with Belsen and Dachau, and all the rest. The 16th century record was nothing like so bad, and Jewish characteristics, the addiction to money and usury, etc, were regarded as matter for comedy-as were other national characteristics, Scotch, Irish, Dutch, German, French, or Spanish, as in The Two Gentlemen of Verona and again in this play, good for a laugh from the groundlings. It must be realised that, to the Elizabethans, Shylock was a comic character, though we may think of him as more tragic.
Backlround. He derives directly from Barabas, the leading figure in Marlowe's savage, farcical play, The Jew of Malta. With the popular excitement over the Lopez affair running high in 1594, Marlowe's play was revived by the Admiral's Company and given some fifteen performances later that year. The Chamberlain's men saw their chance to go one better, as their actor-dramatist certainly did with the play he wrote for them. Marlowe's play was the chief influence upon his mind, though Shakespeare placed the action once more in the setting of a familiar Italian story, from the collection called Il Pecorone, contemporary with Boccaccio. He fused these two main elements into a play which has been always successful-particularly, we note, perhaps significantly, in Germany. Dr. Lopez, the Queen's physician, we repeat, had been shockingly handled in England. He had been too successful for some people's taste-and that had somewhat
gone to his head; he dabbled dangerously in political intelligence and he had made V mice: Piazetta aspersions against Essex's sexual health. It was Essex who ran him down, made it a and Doge's Palace from the Bacino. point of 'honour' to bring him down. The humane Queen never believed that Lopez I8th century intended to poison her, but could not hold up for ever the popular clamour against him. painting from the We must remember (a), Shakespeare's indirect affiliation to Essex through Southamp- studio of Canaletto ton; (b), his usual conformity with popular opinion. Considering that, it is rather wonderfut ",hat he made out of the play, though ",e today may feel sensitive about itfar more than the Victorians, with whom it 'was very popular. On the other hand it provides an illuminating contrast with Marlowe's play: the contrasting genius of the two men stands out sharply. Marlowe's Barabas is a comic villain, savagely belaboured and brought to book for the delight of the pit. Shakespeare begins with the popular representation of Skylock as a Jew to be despised, but his humanity cannot help breaking in. Shylock has been wronged, and 'hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?' Here is the real 279
THE
MERCHA~T
OF VEXICE
Introduction
Shakespeare: a very different soul from Marlowe, for all that he owed to him. There are virtual quotations from Marlowe, besides phrases and other fiecksShakespeare's infallible ear picked up and registered everything usable. An Elizabethan audience found it funny when the Jew's daughter ran away to marry a Christianthough we may not. Shylock's outburst is as follows: My daughter! 0 my ducats! 0 my daughter! Fled with a Christian! 0 my Christian ducats! The words are practically the same as Marlowe's, the situation repeated from his play. The Elizabethans laughed at the absconding Jessica playing fast and loose with his money: 'Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats.' I do not find that funny. One critic says reasonably that, in this disturbing play, Shakespeare 'tries to have it both ways'. In fact, though he does try to even up the scales, they are tipped against Shylock: one cannot say that he receives justice. So no wonder he lingers in everybody's mind, no comic figure but an ambivalent one, hovering between comedy and tragedy. From the beginning one sympathises with him at the ill-treatment he has received from Antonio: Fair sir, you spat on me on Wednesday last, You spurned me such a day, another time You called me dog: and for these courtesies I'll lend you thus much moneys? When he demands his pound of flesh, however, the audience would recognise the reference to Lopez, lupus, the wolf: thy currish spirit Governed a wolf, who hanged for human slaughter ... . . . thy desires Are wolvish, bloody, starved and ravenous. The idea of exacting a pound of flesh is to us melodramatic and unconvincing, yet it comes with the story and the very phrase has entered into common usage. The medievals, infantile as they were, believed even worse of the Jews. One cannot think that Shylock receives any kind of justice when Antonio generously remits one half of his goods, to claim the other half-provided he becomes a Christian and leaves everything to his absconding daughter and her husband. The Elizabethans evidently thought that that was good enough for him.
The Elizabethan Age. Everything bespeaks the time, and there is no difficulty about dating. . .. my wealthy Andrew docked in sand, Vailing her high top lower than her ribs To kiss her burialrefers to the Spanish galleon, the St. Andrew, which ran aground and was taken at the capture of Cadiz in the summer of 1596. She nearly ran aground again when being
280
Introduction
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
brought up-Channel. In the play Antonio's ship is reported wrecked in the Narrow Seas, on the Goodwin Sands. The play belongs to that autumn. Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind, Prying in maps for ports, and piers and roads, in the first scene, watching out for their argosies upon the high seas-this is precisely what one finds the merchants who were clients of Simon Forman doing at the time. 1 The Queen herself was an accomplished orator, and there is every likelihood that the perambulating actor would have heard her perform : And there is such confusion in my powers As, after some oration fairly spoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleased multitude, Where every something being blent together, Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy Expressed and not expressed. Jokes against neighbour nations and their characteristics were common fare, then as now. Here again is the Scot: 'he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again when he was able.' The Elizabethans thought drunkenness the endemic vice of Germans. Portia, when asked how she liked her German suitor, replies: 'Very vilely in the morning when he is sober, and most vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst he is little better than a beast.' When Portia says to Antonio's friend, Bassanio: I fear you speak upon the rack Where men enforced do speak any thing, we reflect that there the brutality of the age stands revealed, the rack in the background. But was it any worse than ours abroad, four hundred years on ?
Personal. We tum with relief from these barbs to make fools laugh to the personal touches that bring Shakespeare before us. Here is the love of sports and outdoor activities so obvious in the plays he wrote when younger: In my schooldays, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch To find the other forth, and by adventuring both loft found both. The archery-butts at Stratford were on the low-lying ground by the bridge-one often thinks of them, and the schoolboy, when passing over it. Had he a particular experience in mind when he wrote?All things that are Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.
1 v. my Simon Forman, c. VIII.
281
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Introduction
We hear the echo from the Sonnet: The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action ... Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight. Much has been made of the friendship theme, the intimate feeling by which Bassanio would sacrifice everything to save Antonio: But life itself, my'wife, and all the world Are not with me esteemed above your life. I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all Here to this devil, to deliver you.
On which the spirited Portia, something of a feminist, comments: Your wife would give you little thanks for that If she were by to hear you make the offer. However, the friendship theme is subordinate to the far more powerful emotions aroused around Shylock. And the love theme around Portia is cool and subdued, the choosing among suitors, with its dramatic appeal for a rather simple audience, is hardly moving to a modem one: it is a commonplace of the traditional story Shakespeare is adapting. It may be worth observing the report of Portia: she doth stray about By holy crosses where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours. Wayside crosses were a feature of Elizabethan England, and there were still oldfashioned people to pray at them. Of course the action of the play is in Italy; Shakespeare was a conforming member of the Church of England, but an old-fashioned one to whom the terms and habits of the old faith came naturally: priests are priests, people cross themselves, we hear of holy unction and holy bread; oaths are the old ones, 'Marry' and 'by our Lady', 'by the mass' and 'by God's wounds', the conservative 'Queen's customary oath. The play is, as usual, fairly sprinkled with the classical allusions, figures and images, that welled up from his schooling. The last Act is different in character from the dramatic tensions of the previous Acts: it is intensely lyrical and magical, drenched in moonlight and music. (In our time it has inspired Vaughan Williams' 'Serenade to Music'.) But when the disparate images of Troilus and Cressida, along with Thisbe, occur we can see Shakespeare with his Chaucer open before him at the pages where they occur together. Those famous broken paragraphs of verse, each beginning, 'In such a night,' marvellously evoke moonlit Belmont. In such a night Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild sea banks, and waft her love To come again to Carthage. 282
IntrOduction
THE MERCHA::-.lT OF VENICE
Perhaps he was thinking of Marlowe and his Dido-as certainly he was when he wrote that Portia's sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand. So in the poem written Southampton's:
In
rivalry with Venus and Adonis had Marlowe described
His dangling tresses that were never shorn, Had they been cut and unto Colchos borne, Would have allured the venturous youth of Greece To hazard more than for the golden fleece. There is more music than ever in this play. We are given the charming song: Tell me where is Fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? Much of the last Act is performed to the sound of music, and we have Shakespeare's tribute to its power, which was evidently spoken from his heart: The man that hath no music in himself, Xor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils, The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. The action is spun out by the intrigue about Portia's ring, which Bassanio gave away to procure the learned doctor (Portia in disguise) to plead Antonio's case and save his life. Thus, when all is resolved, the comedy is dismissed with Shakespeare's characteristic (and popular) bawdy: Gratiano says, But were the day come, I should wish it dark Till I were couching with the doctor's clerk. Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing So sore, as keeping safe Xerissa's ring.
Text. The text is a good one, a quarto published in r600; E. K. Chambers 'saw no reason why the copy_used for [it] should not have been in Shakespeare's hand'. It was reprinted in the First Folio, with a few additions of stage directions from the Company's prompt-book.
J~ In hAve
Follow DDt
,
no speaking, IwillhaYe my
honcl
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. The DUKE OF VENTCE. The PRINCE OF MOROCCO, suitors to Portia. The PRINCE OF ARRAGON, ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice. BASSANI0, his friend, suitor likewise to Portia. SALANIO, } g~~~~ci, friends to Antonio and Bassanio. SALERIO, LoRENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a rich Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, the clown, servant to Shylock.
J
OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot. LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio. BALTHASAR,l . STEPHANO, servants to Portia. PORTIA, a rich heiress. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. JESSICA, daughter to Shylock. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler. Servants to Portia, and other Attendants. ScENE: Partly at Venice, and partlJl at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on lite Continent.
• A bullet beside a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite colUTlUi
ACT I. ScENE I. Venice. A street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad: It wearies me; you say it wearies you; Hut how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn ; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me. That I have much ado to know myself. Safar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; .There, where your argosies with portly sail, Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, 10 Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, Do overpeer the petty traffickers, That curtsy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affeCtions would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Venice in the r5th century. From Schedel's Liber ChronicorU1n, 1493
9 argosies. Large merchant ships. Opposite: Frontispiece from an r800 Shakspere. Engraving from a design by W. M. Craig
28 5
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE Act I Scene I 27 Andrew. The name of the Spanish galleon which was captured by Essex at Cadiz in 1596. 28 Vailing. Lowering.
50 Janus. The two-faced god of Roman mythology; as god of gates he faced both ways.
Salarino: 'Now, by two-headed Janus .. .' Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
56 Nestor. The old veteran amongst the Greek commanders at Troy. SD Enter . .. Gratiano. Graziano was the name of the comic doctor in the Italian commedia dell'arte. Gratiano plays the 'fool's part' in the scene. 74 respect upon. Regard for.
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind, Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads; And every objeCt that might make me fear 20 Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me sad. SaltJr. My wind cooling my broth Would blow me to an ague, when I tliought What harm a wind too great at sea might do. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats, .And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, .Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, :;0 And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought To think on this, and shall I lack the thought That such a thing bechanced would make me sad T But tell not me; I know, Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 40 A ttt. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. Sake1". Why, then you are in love. A nt. Fie, fie t Salar. Not in love neither Y Then let us say you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry, .Because you are not sad. N ow, by two-headed Janu~ 50 Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes And laugh like parrots at a bag:piper, And other of such vinegar aspeCt That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, .Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
Enkr BASSANIO, LoRENZO, and GRATIANO. Sa/an. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well : We leave you now with better company. Salar. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, 60 If worthier friends had not prevented me. A nt. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you And you embrace the occasion to depart. Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Safar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. (Exeunt Salarino and Salani{),
Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found
Antonio, We two will leave you: but at dinner-time, 10 I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Bass. I will not fail you. Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; • You have too much respett upon the world :
286
Act I Scene I They lose it that do buy it with much care : Believe me, you are marvellously changed. Ant. I hold the world but as the WOt"Id, Gratiano; A stage where every man must playa part, And mine a sad one. Gra. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine 81 Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakesand creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, AntonioI love thee, and it is my love that speaksThere are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, go With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle, And when J ope my lips let no dog bark!' o my Antonio, I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing, when, I am very lIure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. I'll tell thee more of this another time: 100 But fish not, with this melancholy bait, • For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile: I'll end my exhortation after dinner. Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinnertime: I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gra. Well, keep me company buttwo years moe, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i' faith, for silence is only commendable .In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible.
[Ezcamt Gratiano and Lorenzo. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search. Ant. Well, tell me now what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120 That you to-day promised to tell me of? Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, • By something showing a more swelling port Than 1JlY faint means would grant continuance: Nor do I now make moan to be abridged From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is to come fairly off from the great debts Wherein my time something too prodigal • Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio. - 130 lowe the most, in money and in love. And from your love I have a warranty To unburden all my plots and purposes How to get clear of all the debts lowe. A nt. I prayyou, good Bassanio, let me know it ; And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
The FooL From an early 19th century engraving
102 gudgeon. A small fresh-water fish used as bait. 112 neat's tongue. Ox-tolliue (dried or cured). maid not vendible. Old maid. 124 port. Life-style. 130 gaged. Bound.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act I Scene II
154 To wind about my love with circumstance. To beat about the bush.
160 prest. Willing. 170 golden fleece. Jason and the Argonauts found the Golden Fleece in Colehos and won it with the help of Medea, the Kini'S daughter who, like Portia's father, subjected the Afionauts to three tests.
175 thrift. Success, profit.
181 rack'd. Stretched.
Dorothy Tutin as Portia, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1960
Within the eye of honour, be assured, My purse, my person, my extremest means, Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one 140 shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way with more advised watch, To find the other forth, and by adventuring both loft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. lowe you much, and, like a wilful youth, That which lowe is lost; but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both 1';0 Or bring your latter hazard back ae-a,in And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Ant. You know me well, and herein spend but time .To wind about my love with circumstance; And out of doubt you do me now more wrong In making question of my uttermost Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do That in your knowledge may by me be done, .And I am pres.t unto it: therefore, speak. 160 Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left; And she is fair and, fairer than that word, Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia, nothin" undervalued To Cato's daughter, Brutus Portia: Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks • Hang. on her temples like a golden fleece; 170 Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand, And many Jasons come in quest of her. o my Antonio, had I but the means To hold a rival place with one of them, .1 have a mind presages me such thrift, That I should questionless be fortunate! A nt. Thou know'st that aU my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money nor commodity To raise a present sum: therefore go forth; Try what my credit can in Venice do: 180 .That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Where money is, and I no question make To have it of my trust or for my sake. [Exeunt. ScENE
II. Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S lwuse.
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world. Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing. I t is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. 10 P()r. Good sentences and well pronounced. Ner. They would be better, if well followed. POT. If to do were as easy as to know what
Por.
288
Act I Scene II were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. 0 me, the word 'choose!' I may neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I • dislike ; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. I;; it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none? 29 Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men at their death have good inspirations: therefore the lottery, that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly but one who shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affeCtion towards any of these princely suitors that are already come? Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my description, level at my affection. • Ner. 'First. there is the Neapolitan prince. Por. Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith. • Ner. Then there is the County Palatine. Por. He doth nothing but frown., as who should say , If you will not have me, choose:' he hears merry tales and smiles not: I fear he will • prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his • youth. 1 had rather be married to a death'shead with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two! Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon? Por. God made him, and therefore let him pas.s for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker: but, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine; he is every • man in no man; if a throstle sing, he falls straight a capering: he will fence with his own shadow: if I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness, I shall never reqtIite him. 70 Ner. What say you, then, to Falconbridge., the young baron of England? Por. You know I s.ay nothing to him, for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture, but, alas, who can converse with a dumb• show' How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany and his behaviour every where.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
26-27 will . . . wiU. There is a pun here on Portia's choice and her father's testament. 43 Neapolitan prince. The Neapolitans were recognised for their horsemanship. Q Cozmty Palatine. Count Palatine, that is, a count of the Palatinate, a German region which extended on both sides of the middle Rhine.
53 weeping philosopher. Heraclitus, a aloomy Greek philosopher. 55-56 death's-head with a bone in his mouth.' Skull and cross-bones.
65 throstle. Thrush. 79 suited. Dressed.
Portia: 'I think he bought ... his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany'. French and German contemporary costumes, from Chambers's Pictorial History of England, 1851
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE Act I Scene II 88-89 Frenchman /iecame his surety. A reference to the traditional alliance between France and Scotland. 104 rhenish wine. Wine from the Rhineland. 116 Sibyl.la. The ancient prophetess, the sibyl of Cumae.
N 31'.. What think you of the Scottish lord, his . neighbour? Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore he would pay him again • when he was able: I think the Frenchman became his surety and sealed under for another. Ner. How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony's nephew? 91 Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him. Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray • thee, set a deep glass of rhenish wine on the contrary ca..ket, for if the devil be within and that temptation without, I knoW' he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I'll be married to a sponge. Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords: they have acquainted me with their determinations; which is, indeed, to return to their home and to trouble you with no more suit, unless you mar be won by some other sort than your father's Imposition depending on the caskets. • Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of mr father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable, for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure. Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquis of Montferrat? Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, he was so called. Ner. True, madam: he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best 131 deserving a fair lady. Por. I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of thy praise. Enter a Serving-man. How now! what news? Servo The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave: and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco. who brings word the prince his master will be here to-night. 139 Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if he have the condition of a saint and the complexion of a devil, I bad rather he should shnve me than wive me. Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before. Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [ExnmJ.
29 0
Act I Scene III THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
III.
Venice. A juhlic jlace. Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK. • Sky. Three thousand ducats; well. Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. Shy. For three months; well. Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. Sky. Antonio shall become bound; well. • Bass. May you stead me? will you pleasure me? shall I know your answer? Sky. Three thousand ducats for three months and Antonio bound. 10 Bass. Your answer to that. Shy. Antonio is a good man. Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary? Shy. Oh, no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a good man is to have you under.stand me that he is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, more.over, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath, squandered abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and waterrats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and then there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is, notwiths.tanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats; I think I may take his bond. Bass. Be assured you may. Shy. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me. l\~ay I speak with Antonio? Bass. If it please rou to dine with us. Sky. Yes, to smel pork; to eat of the habi.tation which your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so followmg, but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here? 40 SCENE
Set design for a Venetian street by F. Lloyd, 1856 1 ducats. The ducat was a Venetian gold coin.
7 stead. Help or assist. 17 sufficie1!t. Acceptable as surety. 20 Rialto. The Exchange of Venice, where the Venetian merchants met twice a day.
Enter ANTONIO. Bass. This is Signior Antonio. Sky. [Aside] How like a fawning publican he loo'ks! I hate him for he is a Christian, But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis and brings do'\Vn The rate of usance here with us in Venice. • If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, Even there where mt:rchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains and my well-won thrift, ,51 Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, If I forgive him! Bass. Shylock, do you hear? Sky. I am debating of my present store. And, by the near gues.s of my memory, I cannot instantly raise up the gross Offull three thousand ducats. What of that' Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, Will furnish me. But soft! how many months Do you desire? [To Ant.] Rest you fair, good signior; 60 Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
•
Shylock and Bassanio. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakespere, 1146
35-36 conjured the de't:ii ill to. A reference to the destruction ofthe Gaderene swine, St. Mark's Gospel,S.
42 fmming publican. Tax-gatherer, a term of abuse. 47 upon the hip. At a disadvantage.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act I Scene III
72-91 When Jacob grazed . .. steal it not. This pas.sage paraphrases Genesis 27 and 30. Shylock argues that Jacob thrived by breeding sheep and received God's blessing. So too can money be made to breed and is likewise blessed. 80 eanlings. Young lambs.
112 You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog. In Venice Jews were obliged to wear a circle of yellow cloth sewn into the breast of the outer gannent, a long, loose coat of iaberdine.
William Charles Macready, the Victorian actor, as Shylock, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, 1841
Ant. Shylock, although I neither lend noc borrow By taking nor by giving of excess, Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, I'll break a custom. Is he yet possess'd How much ye would? Sk7. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. A nt. And for three months. Sk7. I had forgot; Lhree months; you told meso. Well then, your bond; and let me see; but hear you; Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow Upon advantage. Ant. I do never use it. 71 • Sk)'. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheepThis Jacob from our holy Abram was, As his wise mother wrought in his behalf, The third possessor; ay, he was the thirdAnt. And what of him? did he take interest? Sk7. No, not take interest, not, as you would say, Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himself were compromised • That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank, Tn the end of autumn turned to the rams, And, when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the aCt, The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands And., in the domg of the deed of kind, He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes, Who then conceiving did in eaning time Fall parti-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. This was a way to thrive, and he was blest: go And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. A"t. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob sen,ed for; A thing not in his power to bring to pass, But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven. Was this inserted to make interest good? Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams? Sk7. 1 cannot tell; 1 make it breed as fast: But note me, signior. A nt. Mark you this, Bassanio, The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness 100 Is like a villain with a smiling cheek. A goodly apple rotten at the heart: 0, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! Sk7' Three thousand ducats; 'tis a good round sum. Three months from twelve: then, let me see: the rateAlit. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you? Sky. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys and my u....ances: Still have I borne it with a patient shnlg. 110 For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. • You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help: Go to, then; you come to· me, and you say , Shylock, we would have moneys :' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
Act I Scene III And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold: moneys is your suit. :t2O What should I say to you? Should I not say , Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats l' Or Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this; , Ifair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; You spurn'd me sur.h a day; another time You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies I 'lliend you thus much moneys'? . :t30 A nt. I am as like to call thee so again, To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not As to thy friends; for when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? But lend it rather to thine enemy, Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face Exact the penal ty. Shy. Why, look you, how you storm! I would be friends with you and have ?:our love, Forget the shames that you have stain d me with, • Supply your present wants and take no doit :t4:t Of usance for my moneys, and you '11 not hear me: This is kind I offer. Bass. This were kindness. Shy. This kindness will I show. Go with me to a notary, seal me there • Your single bond; and, in a merry sport, If you repay me not on such a day, In such a place, such sum or sums as are Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit Be nominated for an equal pound 150 Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken In what part of your body pleaseth me. Ant. Content, i' faith: I'll seal to such a bond And say there is much kindness in the Jew. Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me : I'll rather dwell in my necessity. Ant. Why, fear not, man; 1 will not forfeit it: Within these two months, that's a month before This bond expires, I do expeCt return Of thrice three times the value of this bond. :too Shy. 0 father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspeCt The thoughts of others! Pray you, tel! me this; If he should break his day, what should I gain By the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man's flesh taken from a man Is not so estimable, profitable neither, As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, To buy his favour, I extend this friendship: If he will take it, so; if not, adieu; :t10 And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. Sky. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's; Give him direction for this merry bond, And I will go and purse the ducats straight, See to my house, left in the fearful guard Of an unthrifty knave, and presently I will be with you. Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew. [Exit Shylock. The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind. Bass. I h'ke not fair terms and a villain's mind. A nt. Come on : in this there can be no dismay; My ships corne home a month before the day.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Antonio (Anthony Xicholls), Bassanio (Basil Hoskins) and Shylock (Emlyn \Villiams), Stratford-upon-Avon, I93 6
141 dvit. A very small sum worth half a farthing.
146 single bond. Made with one person alone, without security.
[Exeunt.
293
THE
MERCHA~T
OF
VE~ICE
Act II Scenes I & II ACT II.
17 scanted. Restricted. SCENE
Morocco: 'I pray you, lead me to the caskets'. Engraving from a design by F. Hayman for Hanmer's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1744 25 Sophy. King of Persia. 26 Sultan Solyman. The Sultan of Turkey who in 1535 fought an unsuccessful campaign against the Persians.
32 Lichas. The servant who unwittingly brought Hercules (Alcides) the poisoned garment that caused his death. 4 Launcelot Gobbo. From the Italian 'gobbo', hunchbacked.
1. Belmont. A room in
PORTIA'S
!tQUSe.
Flouris!t tif cornets. Enter tlte PRINCE OF MOROCCO and his train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and others attending-. Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the bumish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phrebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. r tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath fear'd the valiant: by my love, I swear The best-regarded -virgins of our clime 10 Have loved it too: I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led By nice direCtion of a maiden's eyes; Besides. the lottery of my destiny Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: .But if my ffither had not scanted me And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself His wife who wins me by that means I told you, Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20 As any comer I have look'd on yet For my affection. Mor. Even for that I thank you: Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets To try my fortune. By this scimitar • That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince • That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, I would outs tare the sternest eyes that look, Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, 30 Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, To win thee, lady. But, alas the while 1 • If Hercules and Lichas play at dice Which is the better man, the greater throw May tum by fortune from the weaker hand: So is Alcides beaten by his page; And so may I, blind fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier ma.y attain, And die with grieving. Por. You must take your chance, And either not attempt to choose at all Or swe.ar before you choose, if you choose wrong Never to speak to lady afterward 41 In way of marriage: therefore be advised. Mor. Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance. Pore First, forward to the temple: after dinner Your hazard shall be made. M or. Good fortune then 1 To make me blest or cursed'st among men. [Cornets, and exeunt.
II. Venice. A street. Enter LAUNCELOT.
SCENE
Gobbo, the hunchback from commedia dell'o:rte. Etching by Jacques Callot (1592-1635)
294
LatIN. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me -saying to me . ' Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or 'good Launcelot Gobbo, use your le.gs, take the start, run away.' My conscience says 'No; take heed, honest Launcelot;
Act II Scene II
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
take heed, honest Gobbo,' or, as aforesaid, 'honest Launcelot Gobbo ; do not run; scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack: 'Via l' says the fiend; 'away!' says the fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,' says the fiend, 'and run: Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me ~ My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,' or rather an honest woman's son; for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste; well, my conscience says' Launcelot, budge not.' , Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience. 'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well;' 'Fiend,' say I, 'you counsel well:' to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God bless the mark, is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your command; I will run.
Eltter Old GOBBO, witlt a basket. Goh. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's? Laun. (Aside] 0 heavens, this is my true• begotten father! who, being more than sandblind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try confusions with him. Gob. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's? 41 Laun. Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house. • Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or no? • Laun. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man and, God be thanked, well to live. Laun. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of young Master Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you of young Master Launcelot? Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. Ergo, Mast( . Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot, fath· r: for the young gentleman, according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased, or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven. Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. 70 Laun. Do I look like a cudgel or a hovelpost, a staff or II prop? Do you know me, father? Gt>b. Alack the day. I know you not, young
Drinkwater Meadows as Old Gobbo, Princess's Theatre, London, 1858
37-38 sand-blind. Almost blind (semi-blind). highgravel. A pun on 'sand'.
47 sonties. Saints. 50 l'VIaster LaunceWt. A term applied to an employer. Launcelot pretends to his father that he has improved his station and is no longer a servant.
295
THE MERCHANT OF
VE~ICE
Act II Scene II
Old Gobbo and Launcelot. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846
100 fill-horse. Draught-horse. 110 set up my rest. Determined. 128 Gramercy. Many thanks. 133 infection. Affection.
139 cater-cousins. Close friends.
gentleman: but, I :J?ray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his soul, ahve or dead? LaUlt. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not. Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had ,Your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: It is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son may, but at the length truth will out. Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy. Laun. Pray you, let 's hav~ no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. 91 Gob. I cannot think you are my son. Laun. I know not what I shall think of that: but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother. Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be ! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more .hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on . his tail. 101 Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him. Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. How 'gree you now? Latin. Well, well: but, for mine own part, .as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a present! give him a halter: I am famished in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries: if I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. 0 rare fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. 120
Enter BASSANIO, with. LEONARDO and otlur followers. Bass. You may do so; but let it be so hasted that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See these letters delivered; put the liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodg;ing. [Exit a S61"'iJaNt. Laun. To hIm, father. Gob. God bless your worship I • Bass. Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me ? Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, sir, as my father shalf specify• Gob. He hath a great infedion, sir, .as one would say, to serve,Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall spedfyGob. His master' and he, saving your worship's .reverence, are scarce cater-cousins-
Act II Scene II Laun. To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having done me wrong, doth cause me, as • my father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto youGo/J. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is• LaNn. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father. Bass. One speak for both. What would you? lSI LatJIII. Serve you, sir. • GoO. That is the very defea: of the matter, sir. Bass. I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit: Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, .And hath prefen-'d thee, if it be preferment To leave a rich Jew's service, to become The follower of so poor a gentleman. Laun. The old proverb lS very well parted between my master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough. Bass. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son. Take leave of thy old master and inquire My lodging out. Give him a livery • More guarded than his fellows' : see it done. LaNlt. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no ; I have ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any .man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book, I shall have good fortune . Go to, here's a simple line of life: here's a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! eleven widows and nine maids is a simple comingin for one man: and then to 'scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge· of a feather-bed; here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a woman. she's a good wench for • this gear. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling' of an eye. ~.reunt Launcelot and Old CoMo. Bass. I pray thee, g'ood Leonardo, think on this: These things being bought and orderly bestow'd, Return in haste, for I do feast to-night ISo My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go. Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
142-143 frutify. Certify.
146 impertinent. Launcelot means 'pertinent'.
152 defect. Effect. 155 preferr'd. Recommended for advancement. 164 guarded. Braided.
J. B. Buckstone, the Victorian actor, as Launcelot Gobbo. From]. O. Halliwell's The Complete Works of William Shakspere, 1833
167 table. Palm of the hand. 176 gear. Business.
Enter GRATIANO.
Gra. Where is your master? Leon. Yonder, sir, he walks. [E.rit. Cra. Signior Bassanio ! Bass. Gratiano! Cra. I have a suit to you. Bass. You have obtain'd it. Cra. You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont. Bass. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano: Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice . Parts that become thee happily enough 'I9! And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ; But where thou art not known, why, there they show Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain To allaJ: w~th so~e.cold drops of modesty Thy skl~mg spmt, lest through thy wild behaVIOur 297
THE MERCHANT OF VEXICE
Act II Scenes III & IV
205 ostent. Appearance. 1 slink uwtl)' in supper-time. Shakespeare makes use of the masque as part of the evening's entenainment. It occurs in many of his plays. Inigo Jones produced some of his most famous designs for the masques of Ben Jonson.
I be misconstrued in the place I go to And lose my hopes. Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me: If I do not put on a sober habit, 199 Talk with respeCt and liwear but now and then, Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely, Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes Thus with my bat, and sigh and say •amen,' Use all the observance of civility, • Like one well studied in a sad ostent To please his ¥randam, never trust me more. Bau. Well, we shall see your bearing. Gra. Nay, but I bar to-nlght: you shall not gauge me By what we do to-night. Bass. No, that were pity : r would entreat you rather to put on 210 Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends That purpose merriment. But fare you well : I have some business. Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest: But we will visit you at supper-time. [Exeunt. SCENE
III. T!te same. A r(}()m in SHYLOCK'S kuuse.
Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT. 7e.r. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so: Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. But fare t~ well, there is a ducat for thee: And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest: Give him this letter; do it secretly; And so farewell: I would not have my father See me in talk with thee. 9 Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play the knave and get thee, r am much deceived. But, adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit: adieu. 7es. Farewell, good Launcelot.
[Exit La.uncelot. Alack, what heinous sin is it in me To be ashamed to be my father's child! But though I am a daughter to his blood, r am not to his manners. 0 Lorenzo, If thou keep p:o!Uise, I shall e~d thi~ strife, ~o Become a Chnstlan and thy loving wife. [Exzt. SCENE
Enter •
Zenobia from Ben Jonson's Masque of Queens, 1609. Design by Inigo Jones
IV.
Tke same. A strut.
GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, SALANIO.
a1td
Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, Disguise us at my lodging and return, All in an hour. Gra. We have not made good preparation. Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers. Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd, And better in my mind not undertook. Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two hours To furnish us.
Act II Scene V Enter LAUNCELOT, witk aletler. Friend Launcelot, what's the news! La.un. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. I I Lor. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on Is the fair hand that writ. Gr.-f. Love-news. in faith. Laun. By your leave, sir. Lor. Whither goest thou '! Laun. Marry, sir, to bid myoId master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian. • Lor. Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica I will not fail her; speak it privately. 2I G·o, gentlemen, [Exit Launcelot. Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer. . Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. Salan. And so will I. Lor. Meet me and Gratiano At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. Salar. 'Tis good we do so. [Exeunt Salar. and Saltzn. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica 2 Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath direCted 30 How I shall take her from her father's house, What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with, What page's suit she hath in readiness. If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter's sake: And never dare misfortune cross her foot. Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest: Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt. SCENE
V. Tlu same. Before
Enter
SHYLOCK
and
SHYLOCK'S
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
20 gentle. A pun on 'gentile'.
Shylock and Jessica. Illustration by Thomas Lowinsky from Players' Shakespeare, 1923
20 reproach. Launcelot means 'approach'.
house.
LAUNCELOT.
Sk),. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:What, Jessica !-thou shalt not gormandise. As thou hast done with me:-What, Jes~ica l And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out ;Why, Jessica, I say! Laun. Why, Jessica! Sit),. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without biddin~.
Enter
JESSICA.
7es. Call you? what is your will? . 10 Sky. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica: There are my keys. But wherefore should I go? I am not bid for love; they flatter me : But yet 1'11 go in hate, to feed upon The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, Look to my house. I am right loath to go: There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night. £aun. I beseech you, sir, go: my young • master doth expeCt your reproach. 20 Sk),. So do I his.
299
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act II Scene VI
33 varnish'd faces. Refers to the visors of the masquers.
43
Yewess' eye. A Jew's eye denoted wealth.
44 Hagar's ofJopring. Hagar was a gentile and bondwoman to Abraham's wife, Sarah. Her son, Ishmael, was an out-·cast or 'wild man'.
Shylock: 'What says that fool of Hagar's offspring'. Painting by Robert Smirke (1752-1845)
Laun.. And they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon. Sky. What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife, 30 Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street .To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces, But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements: Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear, I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah; Say I will come. Laun. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; 41 There will come a Cnristian by, • Will be worth a J ewess' eye. [Exit. • Sky. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? yes. His words were • Farewell mistress;' nothing else. • Sky. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder; Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him, and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste .;0 His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in: Perhaps I will return immediately: Do as I bid you; shut doors after you: Fast bind. fa.?t on To entrap wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold. Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee; Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead. Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught, Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence; And here choose I: joy be the consequence ! Por. [AsU/e] How all the other passions Heet to air, As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! o love, .Ill Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy; In measure rein thy joy; ·scant this excess. I feel too much thy blessing; make it less, For fear I surfeit. Bass. What find I here?
tne
[Opening tke leaden casket.
Bassanio: 'I come ... to give and to receive'. Engraving from a painting by Richard Westall (17 6 5- r8 36)
3 10
Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demi-god Hath come so near creation! Move these eyes ? Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips, Parted Wlth sugar breath: so sweet a bar %20 Should sunder such sweet friends. Here i1.l her hairs The painter plays the spider and ha~h woven A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men Fru."ter than gnats in cobwebs: but her eyes,How could he see to do them? having made one, Methinks it should have power to steal both his And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow In underprizing it, so far this shadow Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, 130 The continent and summary of my fortune. [Reads,] You that choose not by the view, Chance as fair and choose as true! Since this fortune falls to you, Be content and seek no new. If you be well pleased with this And hold ¥our fortune for your bliss, Turn you where your lady is And claim her with a loving kiss. A gentle scroll Fair lady, by your leave; 140 • I come by note, to give and to receive. Like one of two contending in a prize, That thinks he hath donI" well in people's eyes. Hearing applause and univc;rsal shout, Giddy in spirit, still gazing ill a doubt Whether those peals of praise be his or no ; So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so; As doubtful whether what I see be true, Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you. Por. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, Such as I am: thou,gh for myself alone %3% I would not be ambttious in my wish, To wish myself much better; yet, for you I would be trebled twenty times myself; A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
Act III Scene II More rich: Tha,t onl}' to, stand high i,n Yoo.r, acc()(~t, 1 mtght m Vlrtues, beauties, hvmgs, fnends, Exceed account; but the full sum of me • t Is sum of something, which, to term in gross, Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; 161 Happy in this, she is not yet so old t But She may learn; happier than this, Sh9 is not bred so dull but she can learn: Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be direCted, As from her lord, her governor, her king. Myself and what is mine to you and yours Is now converted: but now I was the lord Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, 170 Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now, This house, these servants and this same myself Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring; Which when you part from, lose, or give away. Let it presage the ruin of your love .And be my vantage to exclaim on you. Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood speaks to you in my veins; And there -is such confusion in my powers, As, after some oration fairly spoke 180 By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleased multitude; Where every something, being blent together, Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence: 0, then be bold to say Bal;sanio's dead 1 Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time, That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, To cry, good joy: good ~oy, my lord and lady ! Gra. My lord Bassamo and my gentle lady, I wish you all the joy that you can wish: For I am sure you can wish none from me : And when your honours mean to solemnize The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you, Even at that time I may be married too. Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. Grn. I thank your lordship, you have got me one. My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours : • You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid ; 200 • You loved, I loved for intermission. No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. Your fortune stood upon the casket there, And so did mine too, as the matter falls ; For wooing here until I sweat again, • And swearing till my very roof wa.'i dry W'ith oaths of love, at last, if promise last, I got a promise of this fair one here To have her love, provided that your fortune Achieved her mistress.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
160 sum of something. Portia modestly sets aside her wealth.
176 vantage to exclaim on you. Opportunity to protest.
ZOO maid. Nerissa was a
'waiting-~ntlewoman',
there-
fore worthy to marry a gentleman.
201 intermission. To pass the time. Z06 roof. i.e. of his mouth. Z18 stake down. A wager, with a lewd quibble.
Robert Shaw and Marigold Charlesworth as Gratiano and Xerissa, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1953
Por. Is this true, Nerissa? 210 Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal ./Jass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? Gra. Yes, faith, my lord. Bass. Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage. Gra. We'll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats. • Nor. What, and stake down? Gra. No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake down. 220 But who comes here! Lorenzo and his infidel' 3 11
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act III Scene II What, and myoId Venetian friend Salerio?
Denholm Elliot as Bassanio, Stratford-upan-Avon, 1960
3 12
Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERI' a Messenger from V mice. Bass. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither ; If that the youth of my new interest here Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, I bid my very friends and countrymen, Sweet Portia, welcome. Por. So do I, my lord: They are entirely welcome. Lor. I thank your honour. For my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have seen you here; 230 But meeting with Salerio by the way, He did intreat me, past all saying nay, To come with him along. Saler. I did, my lord; And I have reason for it. Signor Antonio Commends him to you. [GWes Ba.uanio a letkr. Bass. Ere I ope his letter, I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. Sa/era Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind; Nor weU, unless in mind: his letter there Will show you his estate. Gra. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. 240 Your hand, Salerio: what'5 the news from Venice 1 How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio ? I know he will be glad of our success; We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. Sa/er. I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost. Por. There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper, That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek: Some dear friend dead: else nothing in the world Could turn so much the constitution Of any constant man. What, worse and worse ! With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself, 251 And I must freely have the half of anything That this same paper brings you. BaGS. 0 sweet Portia, Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, When I did first impart my love to you. I freely told you, all the wealth I had Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman ; And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady, Rating myself at nothing, you shall see How much I was a braggart. When I told you My state was nothing, I should then have told you That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed. I have engaged myself to a dear friend, Engaged my friend to his mere enemy, To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady: The paper as the body of my friend, And every word in it a gaping wound, Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio? Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit? From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, 2]1 From Lisbon. Barbary and India? And not one vessel ' ..cape the dreadful touch Of merchant-marring rocks? Saler. Not one, my lord. Besides, it should appear, that if he had The present money to discharge the Jew, He would not take it. Never did I knoW' A creature, that did bear the shape of man,
Act III Scene III So keen and greedy to confound a man: He plies the duke at morning and at night, 280 .And doth impe.ach the freedom of the state, If they deny him justice: twenty merchants, • The duke himself, and the magnificoe.s • Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him; • But none can drive him from the envious plea Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond. 'leI. When I was with him I have heard him swear To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, That he would rather have Antonio's flesh Than twenty times the value of the sum 290 That he did owe him: and I know, my lord, If law, authority and power deny not, It will go hard with poor Antonio. Pore Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble? Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit In doing courtesies, and one in whom The ancient Roman honour more appears Than any that draws breath in Italy. Pore What sum owes he the Jew 1 300 Bass. For me three thousand ducats. Pore What, no more? Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond; Double six thousand, and then treble that, Before a friend of this description Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault. First go with me to church and call me wife. And then away to Venice to your friend; For never shall you lie by Portia's side With an unquiet souL You shall have gold To pay the petty debt twenty times over: 310 When it is paid, bring your true friend along. My maid Nerissa and myself meantime Will live as maids and widows. Come, away I For you shall hence upon your wedding-day: Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer: Since you are dear bought, I williovelou dear. But let me hear the letter of your frien • Bass. [Reads] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since in paying it, it is impolisible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you at my death. N otwithstanding. use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter. Pore 0 love, dispatch all business, and be gone! Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make haste: but, till I come again, Nu bed shall e'er be guilty of my st2Y, No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. 330 [Exeu1tt. SCENE
Enter
III.
Venice.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
281 impeach. Challenge. 283 magnificoes. The chief men of Venice.
Leonardo Loredan, Doge of Venice from Painting by Giovanni Bellini (d. 1516)
284 port.
1501 to 1521.
D~ity.
285 envious. Malicious.
A street.
and Gaoler. SAy. Gaoler, look to him: tell not me of mercy; This is the fool that lent out money gratis: Gaoler, look to him. Alit. Hear me yet, good Shylock. SHYLOCK, SAI,ARINO, ANTONIO,
313
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 9
land.
Act III Scene IV
Foolish.
Shylock, Salarino, Antonio and the gaoler. Engravin2 from a painting by Richard Westall (1765-1836)
Sky. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond: I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause: But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs: The duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder, • Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond To come abroad with him at his request. 10 A nt. I pray thee, hear me speak. Sky. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak: 1'11 have my bond; and therefore speak no more. I 'II not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield To Christian intercessors. Follow not; I'U have no speaking: I will have my bond. [Exit. Salar. It is the most impenetrable cur That ever kept with men. Ant. Let him alone: I'll fonow him no more with bootless prayers. 20 He seeks my life; his reason well I know: loft deliver'd from his forfeitures Many that have at times made moan to me ; Therefore he hates me. Salar. I am sure the duke Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. A nt. The duke cannot deny the course of law : • For the commodity that strangers have With us in Venice, if it be denied, WiII much impeach the justice of his state: Since that the trade and profit of the city 30 Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go: • These griefs and losses have so bated me, That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh To-morrow to my bloody creditor. Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come To see me pay his debt, and then I care not! (Exeuut.
27 comnwdity. Trading facilities. ScENE
32 bated. Reduced.
Enter 2 conceit. Conception.
IV.
Belmont. A house.
r()()1n
i1J
PORTIA'S
PORTIA, NERISSA, LORE~ZO, ]E.sSICA, m,d BALTHASAR.
LDr. Madam, although I speak it in your presence, • You have a noble and a true conceit Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly In bearing thus the absence of your lord. But if you knew to whom you show this honour, How true a gentleman you send relief, How dear a lover of my lord your husband, I know you would be prouder of the work Than customary bounty can enforce you. Pore I never did repent for doing good, 10 N or shall not now: for in companions That do converse and waste the time together, Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love. There must be needs a like proportion Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit; Which makes me think that this Antonio, Being the bosom lover of my lord, Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, How little is the cost I have bestow'd In purchasing the semblance of my soul 20 From out the state of hellish misery! This comes too near the praising of myself: 3 14
Act III Scene IV Therefore no more of it: hear other things. Lorenzo, I commit into your hands • The husbandry and manage of my house Until my lord's return: for mine own part, I have toward heaven breathed a secret vow To live in prayer and contemplation, Only attended by Nerissa here, Until her husband and my lord's return: 30 There is a monastery two miles off'; And there will we abide. I do desire you • Not to deny this imposition; The which my love and some necessity Now lays upon you. IAr. Madam, with all my heart; I shall obey you in all fair commands. Por. My people do already know my mind, And will acknowledge you and Jessica In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. And so farewell, till we shall meet again. 40 IAr. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! yes. I wish your ladyship all heart's content. Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased To wish it back on you: fare you well, Jessica.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
25 husbandry and manage. Ordering and management. 33 imposition. Command. 49 Padua. The university renowned for the study of Civil Law.
[Exeunt 'Jessica and Lorenzo. Now, Balthasar, As I have ever found thee honest-true, So let me find thee still. Take this same letter, And use thou all the endeavour of a man • In speed to Padua: see thou render this Into my cousin's hand, DoCtor Bellario; 50 And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined speed • Unto the tranea, to the common ferry Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee. Baltlt. Madam, I go with all convenient [Exit. speed. Por. Come on, Nerissa: I have work in hand That you yet know not of: we'll see our husbands Before they think of us. Ner. Shall they see us! Par. They shall,. Nerissa; but in such a habit, 60 • That they shall think we are accomplished With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, When we are both accoutred like young men, I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, And wear my dagger with the braver grace, And speak between the change of man and boy With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps Into a manly stride, and speak of frays Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies, How honourable ladies sought my love, 10 Which I denying, they fell sick and died; I could not do withal; then 1'11 repent, And wish, for all that, that I had not kiU'd them; And twenty of these puny lies 1'11 tell, That men shall swear I have discontinued school Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind .A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks, Which I will practise. Ner. Why, shall we turn to men? Por. Fie, what a question's that, If thou wert near a lewd interpreter! 80 But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device When I am in my coach, which stays for us
Padua Lniversity, famous for its School of Law. From a contemporary Italian engraving 53 tranect. Crossing. 61 accomplished. Equipped. 77 Jacks. Knaves.
31 5
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act III Scene V
19 Scylla . . . Charybdis. Scylla., a nymph who was transfonned into a monster, preyed on mariners who attempted to pass between her cave and the whirlpool of Charybdis, in the Straits of Messina.
At the park. gate; and therefore ~te away.
For we must measure twenty miles to-day. [Exeunt. SCENE
24 mow. Enough. 57 'cooer'. Lay the cloth. Launcelot puns on 'cover' meaning the head covered as a sign of rank.
V.
TIte same. A garden.
Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA. Latm. Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the cluldren: therefore, I promise ye, I fear you. I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter: therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard hop~ neither. 7es. And what hope is that, I pray thee? 10 Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jew's da~jthter.
yes. That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me. Laun. Truly then I fear you are damned both by father and mother: thus when I shun • Scylla, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways. 20 Jes. I shall be saved by my husband; he bath made me a Christian. Laun. Truly, the more to blame he: we were • Christians enow before; e'en as many as could well live, one by another. This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs: if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money. Jes.
Enter LORENZO. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what
you say: here he comes. 30 Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners. Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot and I are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he says, you are no good member of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork. 39 Lor. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than you c.an the getting up of the negro's belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot. Laun. It is much that the Moor should be more than reason: but if she be less than an honest woman, she is indeed more than I took her for. Lor. How every fool can play upon the word I I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots. Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner. Laun. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. Lor. Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then hid them prepare dinner. • Laun. That is done too, sir; only • cover' is the word. Will you cover then, sir, Latm. Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.
ur.
Act IV Scene I
•
Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion 1 Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant Y I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning: go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner. Lmm. For the table, sir, it shall be served in : for the meat, sir, it shall be covered: for your • coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits shall govern. [Exit. • Lor. 0 dear discretion, how his words are suited! 'JO The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words; and I do know A many fools, that stand in better place, Gamish'd like him, that for a tricksy word .Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica? And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife? 1es. Past all expressing. It is very meet The Lord Bassanio live an upriiht life; For, having such a blessing in hIS lady, 80 He finds the joys of heaven here on earth: tAnd if on earth he do not mean it, then In reason he should never come to heaven. Why, utwo gods should play some heavenly match And on the wager lay two earthly women, And Portia one, there must be something else .Pawn'd with the other, for the poor rude world Hath not her fellow. Lor. Even such a husband Hast thou of me as she is for a wife. 1es. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. go Lor. I will anon: first, let us go to dinner. • Yes. Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach. Lor. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk; Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things I shall digest it. 1es. Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
GO quarrelling with occasion. Disputing at every opportunity.
68-69 humours and conceits. Whims and fancies.
70 discretion. Discrimination. 75 Defy the matter. Refuse to make sense . 87 Pawn'd. Staked. 92 stomach. Appetite.
ACT IV. ScENE
I.
Venice.
A court ofjustice.
DUKE, Pte Magnificoes, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALERIO, aRd others.
ElIter the
Duke. What, is Antonio here? Ant. Ready, so please your grace. Duke. I am sorry for thee: thou art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch Uncapable of pity, void and empty From any dram of mercy. Ant. I have heard Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate And that no lawful means can carry me Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 10 My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and raie of his. Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. Saler. He is readyat the door: he comes, my lord.
Henry ~ellon. the Victorian actor, as the Duke, Princess's Theatre, London, 1858
Enter SHYLOCK. Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face. 3I 7
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act IV Scene I
21 apparent. Seeming.
26 moiety. Portion. 43 my humour. i.e. my whim.
50 affection. Inclination, desire. 62 losing suit. Shylock is prepared to lose three thousand ducats in order to get his 'weight of carrion flesh'.
Charles Macklin, the 18th century actor, as Shylock, 1775
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice To the last hour of ad; and then 'tis thought Thou 'It show thy mercy and remorse more strange • Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; 21 And where thou now exaCt'st the penalty, Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh, Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, • Forgive a moiety of the principal; Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, That have of late so huddled on his back, Enow to press a royal merchant down And pluck commiseration of his state 30 From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd To offices of tender courtesy. We all exped. a gentle answer, Jew. Sky. I have possess'd your grace o( what I purpose; And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn To have the due and forfeit of my bond: If you deny it, let the danger light Upon your charter and your city's freedom. You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have .JO A weight of carrion flesh than to receive Three thousand ducats: Pll not answer that: • But, say. it is my humour: is it answer'd t What if my house be troubled with a rat And I be pleased to giye ten thousand ducats To have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet! Some men there are love not a gaping pig; Some, that are mad if they behold a cat; And others, when the bagpipe sings r the nose, • Cannot contain their urine: for affeCtion, 50 Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer: As there is no firm reason to be render'd, Why he cannot abide a gaping pig; Why he, a harmless necessary cat ; t Why he, a woollen bag-pipe; but of force Must yield to such inevitahle shame As to offend, himself being offended; So can I give no reason, nor I will not, More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing I bear Antonio, that I follow thus 61 • A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd, Bass. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, To excuse the current of thy cruelty. Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answers. Bass. Do all men kill the things they do not love? Sky. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Bass. Every offence is not a hate at first. Sky. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice? Ant. I pray you, think you questiQn with the Jew: 70 You may as well go stand upon the beach And bid the main flood bate his usual height: You may as well use question with the wolf Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb: You may as well forbid the mountain pines To wag their high tops and to make no noise, When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven ; You may as well do any thing most hard,
Act IV Scene I
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
As seek to soften that-than which what's hard-
erY-
His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you, 80 Make no more offers, use no farther means, But with all brief and plain conveniency Let me have judgement and the Jew his will. Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. Sky. If every ducat in six thousand ducats Were in six parts and every part a ducat, 1 would not draw them; I would have my bond. Duke. How shaltthou hope for mercy, rendering none? Sky. What judgement shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchased slave, go Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, You use in abject and in slavish parts, Because you bought them: shall I say to you, Let them be free, marry them to your heirs? Why sweat they under burthens? let their beds Be made as soft as yours and let their palates Be season'd with such viands? You will answer 'The slaves are ours:' so do I answer you: The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, Is dearly bought; 'tis mine and I will have it. 100 If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no force in the decrees of Venice. I stand for jl1dgement: answer; shall I have it? Duke. Upon my power I may dismiss thi! court, Unless Bellario, a learned doCtor, Whom I have sent for to determine this, Come here to-day. Sauro My lord, here stays without A messenger with letters from the dodor, New come from Padua. Duke. Bring us the letters; call the messenger. Bass. Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet! III The Jew shall have my fle.sh, blood, bones and all, Ere thou shalt lose for me one- drop of blood. Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground; and so let me: You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio, Than to live still and write mine epitaph.
E"ter NERISSA, clressed like a ia'ltJyers curk. Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? Ner. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. [Presenting- a letter. 120 Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly! Sky. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. Gra. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, Thou makest thy knife keen; but no metal can, No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? Sky. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. • Gra. 0, be thou damn'd, inexecrable dog I And for thy life let justice be accused. Thou almost makest me waver in my faith 130 To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit . • Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
Bassanio: 'Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?' Engraving by H. Fuseli from Steevens's edition, 1805
128 inexecrable. i.e. that cannot be denounced too much.
134 G(J'vern'd a 'Wolf. This is probably a reference to the execution of Dr. Lopez (lupus: Latin for '~olf'). See introduction.
Roderigo Lopez. Elizabeth I's JewIsh physician, who was executed for treason (probably unjustly) in 1594. From a contemporary engraving.
319
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE Act IV Scene I 182 must the Jew be mel'Ciful. Here, 'must' carries the sense of inevitabilility, not of compulsion. Portia assumes that Shylock will be merciful.
Peggy Ashcroft as Portia, Queens Theatre, London, 1936
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam, Infused itself in thee: for thy desires Are wolvish, bloody, starved and ravenous.. Sky. Till thou canst rail the seal from oJf ~y b,md, Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud: Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall 141 To cureless ruin. I stand here for law. Duke. This letter from Bellano doSh commend A young and learned do&r to our court. Where is he? Ner. He attendeth here hard by, To know your answer, whetheryou'U admit him. Duke. With all my heart. Some three or four of you . Go give him courteous conduCt to this ~1ace. Meantime the court shall hear Bellano s letter. Clerk. [Reads] Your grace shall understand that at the receipt of your letter I am very sick: but in the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young dodor of Rome; his name is Balthasar. I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant: we turned o'er many books together: he is furnished with my opinion ; which, bettered with his own learning, the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend, comes with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation. Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellano, what he writes: And here, I take it, is the dodor come.
E ttter PORTIA, dressed like if doElor tif laws. Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario! Por. I did, my lord. Duke. You are welcome: take your place. Are you acquainted with the difference 111 That holds this present question in the court! Por. I am informed throughly of the cause. Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. Por. Is your name Shylock? Sky. Shylock is my name. Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; Yet in such rule that the Venetian law Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. You stand within his danger, do you notY 180 Ant. Ay, so he says. Por. Do you conCess the bond? Ant. I do. • Por. Then must the Jew be merciful Sky. On what compulsion must I ? tell me that. Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes: 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown ; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, 191 Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 320
Act IV Scene I But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of Justice., none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; 200 And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much To mitigate the justice of thy plea; Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. S"y. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond. Por. Is he not able to discharge the money? Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice, 210 I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heatt : If this will not suffice, it must appear That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong, And curb this cruel devil of his will. Por. It must not be; there is no power in Venice Can alter a decree established: 'Twill be recorded for a precedent, 220 And many an error by the same example Will rush into the state: it cannot be. • S"y. A Daniel come to judgement! yea, a Daniel! wise young judge, how I do honour thee! Por. tpray you, let me look upon the bond. Sky. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. Por. Shylock, there '5 thrice thy money oft'er'd thee. Sky. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: Shall I laY'perjury upon my soul Y No, not for Venice. Por. Why, this bond is forfeit; 230 And lawfully by this the Jew may claim A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful: Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. S"y. When it is paid according to the tenour. It doth appear you are a worthy judge; You know the law, your exposition Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law, Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, Proce'ed to judgement: by my soul I swear 240 There is no power in the tongue of man To alter me: I stay here on my bond. Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court To gi'"e the judgement. Por. Why then, thus It is: You must prepare your bosom for his knife. S"y. 0 noble judge! 0 e.xcellent young man ! Por. For the intent and purpose of the law Hath full relation to the penalty, Which bereappeareth due upon the bond. S"),. 'Tis very true: 0 wise and upright judge! 250
o
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Ellen Terry as Portia. Late 19th century illustration by W. Morton 223 Daniel. This refers to the story of Susannah and the Elders, and is apt since Daniel was a 'young youth'. Daniel convicted the Elders 'by their own mouth' in much the same way as Portia convicts Shylock.
3 21
THE MERCHA.:."\T OF VENICE
3 22
Act IV Scene I
Act IV Scene I How much more elder art thou than thy looks! Por. Therefore lay bare your bosom. Sk;. Ay, his breast: So says the bond: doth it not, noble judge? , Nearest his heart:' those are the very words. Por. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh The flesh? Sky. I have them ready. Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. Sk;. Is it so nominated in the bond? Por. It is not so express'd: but what of that? 'Twere good you do so much for charity. 261 Sky. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. Por. You, merchant, h:1ve you any thing to say? Ant. But little: I am arm'd and well prepared. Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well ! Grieve not that I am fanen to this for you; For herein Fortune shows herself more kind Than is her custom: it is still her use To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow 270 A n age of poverty; from which lingering penance Of such misery doth she cut me off. Commend me to your honourable wife: Tell her the process of Antonio's end; Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death; And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge Whether Bassanio had not once a love. Repent but you that you shall lose yOul' friend, And he repents not that he pays your debt; For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, 280 I'll pay it presently with all my heart. Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife Which is as dear to me as life itself; But life itself, my wife, and all the world, Are not with me esteem'd above thy life: I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all Here to this devil, to deliver you. Por. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, If she were by, to hear you make the offer. Gra. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love: I would she were in heaven, so she could 2qI Entreat some power to chanJiC: this currish Jew. Ner. 'Tis well you offer 1t behind her back; The wish would make else an unquiet house. Sky. These be the Christian husbands. I have a daughter; Would any of the stock of Barrabas Had been her husband rather than a Christian! [Aside. We trifle time: I pray thee, pursue sentence. Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine: The court awards it, and the law doth give it. Sky. Most rightful judge! 301 Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: The law allows it, and the court awards it. SAy- Most learned judge ! A sentence I Come, prepare! Por. Tarry a little; there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are • a pound of flesh:'
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Portia: 'Have by some surgeon, Shylock . . .' Maria Ann Pope and Charles :\1acklin in an 18th century production .
Opposite: Antonio: 'Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well!' Detail from a painting by Robert Smirke (1732-1845)
32 3
THE
MERCHA~T
OF
VE~ICE
Act IV Scene I
Portia's judgement. Drawing by P. J. de Loutherberg (1740-18I2)
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venke, confiscate 311 Unto the state of Venice. Gra. 0 upright judge ! Mark, Jew: 0 learned judge! Sky. Is that the law? Por. Thyself shalt see the aCt: For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. Gra. Oleamedjudge! Mark,Jew: a learned judge! Sky. I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice And let the Christian go. Bass. Here is the money. Por. Soft! 320 The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste: He shall have nothing but the penalty. Gra. 0 Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more But just a pound of flesh: if thou cut'st more Or less than a just pound, be it but so much As makes it light or heavy in the substance, Or the division of the twentieth part Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do tum 330 But in the estimation of a hair, Thou diest and aU thy goods are confiscate. Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. Por. Why doth the Jew pause T take thy forfeiture. Sky. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refused it in the open court: He shall have merely Justice and his bond. 339 Gra. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Sky. Shall I not have barely my principal? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. Sky. Why, then the devu give him good of it ! I '11 stay no longer question. Po~
Shylock: 'pay the bond thrice . . .' Engraving from Rowe's edition of the works of Shakespeare, 1709
32 4
Trurr~Jew:
The law hath yet another hold on you. It is enacted in the laws of Venice, If it be proved against an alien That by direCt or indired attempts 350 He seek the life of any citizen, The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive Shall seize one half his goods; the other half Comes to the privy coffer of the state; And the offender's life lies in the mercy Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. In w.hich predicament, .1 say, thou stand'st : For It appears, by mamfest proceeding, That indired:ly and diredly too Thou hast contrived against the very life 360 Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd The danger formerly by me rehearsed. Down therefore and beg mercy of the duke. Gra. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself: And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
Act IV Scene I Therefore thou must be hang'dat the state's cbarge. .Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirits, I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's: 370 The other half comes to the general state, Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. Por. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. Sky. Nay, take my life and all; pardonnotthat: You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house: you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live. Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio' Gra. A halter gratis : nothing else, for God's sake. Ant. So please my lord the duke and all the court 380 • To quit the fine for one half of his goods, I am content; so he will let me have • The other half in use, to render it, Upon his death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter: Two things provided more, that, for this favour, He presently become a Christian : The other, that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd, Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. 390 Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant The pardon that I late pronounced here. Por. Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say? Sky. I am content. Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. Sky. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence; I am not well: send the deed after me, And I will sign it. Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. Gra. In christening shalt thou have two godfathers: Had I been j udge, thou sbouldst have had ten more, To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. 400 [Exit Skylock. Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon: J must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet I presently set forth. Duke. I am. sorry that your leisure serves you not. Antonio, gratify this gentleman, For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. [Exevnt Dulu and kis train.
Bass. Most worthy iCntleman, I and my friend Have by your wisdom been this day acqUltted Of grievous penalties: in lieu whereof, 410 Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew, We freely cope your courteous pains with'lL Ant. And stand indebted, over and above, In love and service t010u evermore. Por. He is well pai that is well satisfied; And I, delivering you, am. satisfied And therein do account myself well paid: My mind was never yet more mercenary. I pray you, know me when we meet again: I wish you well, and so I take my leave. 420 Bass. Dear sir, of force I mu...'"t attempt you further: Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute, Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
381 To quit. To remit. 383 in use. In trust.
Portia, Gratiano, the Duke and Shylock. Illustration by Thomas Lowinsky from Players' Sha.kespeare, 1923
Shylock: 'iive me leave. to !10 . . .' Eniraving from a painting by Sir John Gilbert (1817--97)
THE MERCHANT OF
VE~ICE
16 old swearing. Plenty of swearing.
Act IV Scene II Not to deny me, and to pardon me. Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. [To Ant.) Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake; [To Bass.] And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you: Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more ; And you in love shall not deny me this. Bass. This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle! I will not shame myself to give you this. 431 Por. I will have nothing else but only this ; And now methinks I have a mind to it. Bass. There's more depends on this than on the value. The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, And find it out by proclamation: Only for this, I pray you, pardon me. Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers: You taught me first to beg; and now methinks You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd. Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife; +p And when she put it on, she made me vow That I should neither sell nor give nor lose it. Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts. An if your wife be not a mad-woman, And know how well I have deserved the ring, She would not hold out enemy for ever, For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt Portia and Nerina. Ant. My Lord Bassaruo, let him have the ring: Let his deservings and my love withal 450 Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment. Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him; Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst, Unto Antonio's house: away 1 make haste.
.
[E.rit Gratiano.
Come, you and I will thither presently; And in the morning early will we both Fly toward Belmont: come, Antonio. [E.retmt.
II. Tlte same. Astred. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.
SCENE
Por.
Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed And let him sign it: we'll away to-night And be a day' before our husbands home: This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
Enter
GRATIANO.
Grtz. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en: My Lord Bassamo upon more advice Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat Your company at dinner. That cannot be: Por. His ring I do accept most thankfully: And so, I pray you, tell him: furthermore, 10 I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. Gra. That will I do. Ner. Sir, I would speak with you. [Aside to Por.] I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. [Aside to Ner.] Thou mayst, I warrant. • We shall have old swearing
Act V Scene I
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
That they did give the rings away to men; But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. [A loud] Away I make haste: thou know'st where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to [Exeunt. this house? ACT V. SCENE
I. Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S 11011$4. Enter LORENZO and JESSICA.
Lor. The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees And they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night. Jes. In such a night Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew And saw the lion's shadow ere himself And ran dismay'd away. Lor. In such a night Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 10 Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love To come again to Carthage. 'Yes. In such a night Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs That did renew old ./Eson. Lor. In such a night Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew And with an unthrift love did run from Venice As far as Belmont. 'Yes. In such a night Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, Stealing her soul with many vows offaith And ne'er a true one. Lor. In such a night 20 Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, S41nder her love, and he forgave it her. 'Yes. I would out-night you, did no body come; But, hark, I hear the footmg of a man. Enter STEPHANO. Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night! StepA. A friend. Lor. A friend I what friend? your name, I pray you, friend Y StejA. Stephano is my name; and I bring word My mistress will before the break of day Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about 30 • By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours. Lor. Who comes with her? Stejk. None but a holy hermit and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet retum'd? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter LAUNCELOT. • Laun. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola! Lor. Who calls? 40 Larm. Sola I did you see Ma!tl:er Lorenzo? Master Lorenzo, sola, sola !
Lorenzo and Jessica in the avenue to Portia's house. Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of William Shakspere, 1839-43
31 crosses. Roadside crosses were common in both England and Italy. 39 Sola, sola! A hunting cry.
THE MERCHANT OF VEXICE
Act V Scene I
59 patines. The shanow gold or silver dish from which Holy Communion was served. 60 smallest orb. A reference to 'the music of the spheres', an accepted idea in Shakespeare's day. 63 immortal souls. i.e. immortal souls can hear the music ofthe spheres.
19 the poet. Presumably Ovid. 81 stockish. Unfeeling, blockish.
81 Erebus. A dark place on the way to Hades. 99 without respect. This means that nothing is absolutely good, but only relatively.
Lor. Leave hollaing, man: here. Laun. Sola! where Y where Y Lor. Here. Laun. Tell him there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news: my master will be here ere morning. [Exit. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter: why should we go in! SO My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, \-Vithin the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your music forth into the air.
[Exit StejMn(}. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven • Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: • There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, 61 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; • Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Enter Musicians. Come, ho! and wake Diann with a hymn: With sweetest touches pierce your mIstress' ear And draw her home with musIc. [Mu.l'lc. yes. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive: 'fO For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and nei.ghing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze • By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods: 80 .Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that bath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions. of his spirit are dull as night .And his affeCtions dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA. Por. That light we see is burning in my hall.
Opposite: Lorenzo: 'How sweet the moonlight sleeps ... ' Engraving from a painting by W. Hodges (1744-97)
How far that little candle throws his beams I 90 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. P(}r. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inla.nd brook lnto the main of waters. Music I hark I Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. • P(}r•. Nothing is good., I see, without respeCt: Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
THE
MERCHA~T
OF VEXICE
Act V Scene I
109-110 End}'mion ... awaked. Lorenzo is likened to Endymion, and Jessica to Diana who caused him to sleep on Latmos.
SD tucket. A flourish on a trumpet. 127 We should hold day with the Antipodes. 'If you would always walk in the night, it ,,,"ould be day with us, as it is now on the other side of the globe'.
Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark 'Vhen neither is attended, and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfeCtion! • Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion And would not be awaked. [Music·ceases. Lor. That is the voice, lIO Or I am much deceived, of Portia. Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' healths, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd? Lor. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To signify their coming. Por. Go in, Nerissa; Give order to my servants that they take No note at all of our being absent hence; 120 Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet: Weare no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. Por. This night me thinks is but the daylight sick; It looks a little paler: 'tis a day, Such as the day is when the sun is hid. Enter
Bassanio presents Antonio to Portia. Engra"ing by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The lVOTks of Shakspere, 1146
141 breathing courtes}' . Welcome of mere words.
144 gelt. A eunuch.
148 posy. An inscription engraved on the inside of a ring.
33 0
BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO,
anti
their followers. • Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, I f you would walk in absence of the sun. Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 130 And never be Bassanio so for me : But God sort alII You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend. This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound. Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him, For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house : It must appear in other ways than words, X+O .Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. Gra. [To Ner.] By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: • Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring • That she did give me, whose posy was For all the world like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, 'Love me, and leave me not.'· 150 Ner. What talk you of the posy or the value 7 You swore to me, when I did give it you,
Act V Scene I That you would wear it till your hour of death And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You Should have been respeaive and have kept it. Gave it a jud~'s clerk! no. God's my judge, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it. Gra.. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. roo Grte. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, .A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, No hilrher than thyself, the judge's clerk, A pratmg boy, that begg'd it as a fee: I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift : A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger And so riveted with faith unto your flesh. I gave my love a ring and made him swear 170 N ever to part with it: and here he stands; I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That Lhe world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief: An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. Bass. [Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off And swear I lost the ring defendin( it. Gra. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it and indeed ISo Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine; And neither man nor master would take aught But the two rings. Por. What ring gave you, my lord? Not that, I hope, which you received of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault, I would deny it; but you see my finger Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone. Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed 190 Until I see the ring. Ner. Nor I in yours Till I again see mine. Bass. Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the ring; If you did know for whom I gave the ring And would conceive for what I gave the ring And how unwillingly I left the ring, When nought would be accepted but the ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure. Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring, Or half.her worthiness that gave the ring, 200 Or your own honour to contain the ring, You would not then have parted with the ring. What man is there so much unreasonable, If you had pleased to have defended it • With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty To urge the thing held as a ceremony? Nerissa teaches me what to believe: I'll die for't but some woman had the ring. . Bass. No, by my honour, madam, by my soul, .No woman had it, but a civil dodor, 210 Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him And suffer'd him to go displeased away; Even he that did uphold the very life
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Antonio, Jessica, Portia, Lorenzo and ~erissa. Illustration by Thomas Lowinsky from Players' Shakerpeare, 192 3 162 scrubbed. Stunted.
205-206 wanted . .. To urge. i.e. so wanted moderation that he would have urged. ceumony. Sacred symbol. . 210 civil doctor. A quibble on 'doctor of Civil Law' and 'polite doctor'.
33 1
. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Act I Scene I
228 liberal. A pun implying '·free in giving' and 'licentious'.
230 Argus. He was supposed to have a hundred eyes. 237 pen. A bawdy pun.
33 2
Of my dear friend. What should I say~ sweet lady? I was enforced to send it after him; I was beset with shame and courtesy; My honour would not let ingratitude So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady; For, by these blessed candles of the night, 220 Had you been the~ I think you would have begg'd The ring of me to give the worthy dodor. Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: Since he hath got the jewel that I loved. And that which you did swear to keep for me, .1 will become as liberal as you; I'll not deny him any thing I ha11e, No, not my body nor my husband's bed: K now him I shall, I am well sure of it: Lie not a night from home; watch me like • Argus: 2;30 If you do not, if I be left alone, N ow, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, I'll have that doCtor for my bedfellow. Ner. Apd I his clerk; therefore be well advised How you do leave me to mine own protection. Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him, then; .For if I do, 1'11 mar the young clerk's pen. Ant. I am the unhappy subjeCt of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding. Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; And, in the hearing of these many friends, 241 I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, Wherein I see myselfPor. Mark you but that! In both my eyes he doubly sees himself; In each eye, one: swear by your double self, And there's an oath of credit. Bass. Nay, but hear me: Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear I never more will break an oath with thee. Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth; Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord Will never more break faith advisedly. Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this . And bid him keep it better than the other. Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bars. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doCtor! Por. I had it of him: ~don me, Bassanio; For, by this ring, the doCtor lay with me.· 259 Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the do8ors clerk, In lieu of this last night did lie with me. Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it? Por. Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed: Here is a letter; read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
Act V Scene I There you shall find that Portia was the doCtor, Nerissa there her clerk! Lorenzo here 270 Shall witness I set forth as soon as you And even but now return'd; I have not yet Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome; And I have better news in store for you Than you expeCt: unseal this letter soon; There you shall find three of your argosies Are richly come to harbour suddenly: You shall not know by wbat strange accident I chanced on this letter. A nt. I am dumb. Bass. Were you the dodor and I knew you not! 280 Gra. Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man. Bass. Sweet doCtor, you shall be my bedfellow! When I am absent, then lie with my wife. Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living: For here I read for certain that my ships Are safely come to road. Por. How now, Lorenzo! My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. Her. Ay, and I'll give them mm without a fee. 290 There do I give to you and Jessica, From the rich Jew, a spedal deed or gilt, Arter his deatli, of all he dies possess'd ot Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the wa,y Of starved people. Por. It is almost mornin" And yet I am sure you are not satisfied or these events at full. Let us go in; .And charge us there upon inter'gatories, And we will answer all things faithfully. Let it be so: the first inter'gatory goo That my Nerissa. shall be sworn on is, Whether till the next night she had rather stay, Or go to bed now, being two hours to day: But were the day come, I should wish it dark, That I were couching with the dodor's clerk. Well, whHe I live I'U fear no other thing .So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. [E.uunt
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
298 inter'gatories. These were a list of questions put, on oath, to a witness.
301 Nerissa's ring. A bawdy pun.
Gratiano (Jeffery Dench), Nerissa (Patsy Byrne), Bassanio (Peter McEnery) and Portia (Janet Suzman), Royal Shakespeare Co, 14)65
era.
333
As You Like It
THIS PLAY IS peRF. CO:\IEDY, with a pastoral background, and a few touches of more serious intent. Shakespeare took the story from his contemporary Thomas Lodge's Rosalynde, Euphues' Golden Legacie. The characters that impress themselves on our memory are Rosalind herself and to some extent her lover Orlando, though more from his situation as a younger brother done out of his proper inheritance; and the 'melancholy' Jacques, an old disillusioned libertine, whose comments on life provide a tart contrast, useful stiffening, to the love-banter. The subject enables the dramatist to have some fun at the expense of love-talk of various kinds. One sort is the silly passion the shepherdess Phebe conceives for Rosalind disguised as a youth, who sends her packing back to her proper s·wain, Silvius, who entertains a similarly disdained passion for Phebe. The ,,,,,hole atmosphere is that of so many Elizabethan songs of 'nymphs and shepherds', and forest life where 'they fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world'. This care-free life is contrasted with that of the Court, since the Duke of the play has had his place usurped by his brother and has taken to the woods. The theme is carried forward in some charming songs, in counterpoint: 'Under the greenwood tree', and 'Blow, blow thou winter wind.' The music for 'It was a lover and his lass' was composed by Thomas Morley, the madrigalist, who lived in the parish of St. Helen's, Bishopsgate, about the time Shakespeare lodged there.
Background. There are more references than usual to place this play in its time. In 1598 the poem lVIarlowe was writing ,,,,,hen he died in 1593, Hero and Leander, was at length published; that Marlowe was much in Shakespeare's mind is evident from several specific references and associative phrases. Jove and his page Ganymede are a commonplace of the classics; Rosalind, in taking the guise of a youth, takes the name of Ganymede. But Marlowe had begun his play, Dido, with their dallying; one can hardly doubt that it came back to Shakespeare, since we have his touching reference, the only one in which he virtually cited a fellow-writer by name, since it is Marlowe's famous line that he quotes: 334
Introduction
AS YOU LIKE IT Rosalind Drawing by C. Wilhelm for Princes Theatre production, Manchester, I896
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: 'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' Shakespeare would have known well how his fellow and rival came by his end: stupidity 'strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room'. The fatal quarrel in the tavern at Deptford had arisen, according to the inquest, over 'Ie reckoning'. As for love, 'Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and, being taken with the cramp, was drO\'\med-and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was "Hero of Sestos".' Francis Meres did not mention the play in his list of Shakespeare's work early in 1598: it fairly clearly belongs to later that year. The voyages of this time were hardly less in mind: Shakespeare picked up everything . that was going at the time. Perhaps particularly those to the South Sea, i.e. the Pacific, for those were the most sensational, involving the passage through the Straits of Magellan into the Spanish preserve. Thomas Cavendish had achieved this and followed Drake in circumnavigating the globe in I 587-8; he was again in the Straits of Magellan in I592; Richard Hawkins penetrated into the Pacific, where he and his ship were captured in I594. Rosalind considers 'an inch of delay' in hearing about her lover 'a South Sea of discovery'. Her affection 'hath an unknown bottom, like the Bay of Portugal' -so familiar to the Elizabethan seamen. The morose Jacques considered Touchstone's brain 'as dry as the remainder biscuit after a voyage'.
The Age. The time is brought home to us in many an authentic touch. 'Be it known unto all men by these presents' is the regular formula with which writs and bills began, preambles to serving notice on people. Good old Adam, the faithful family retainer, who bore the exhausted Orlando on his shoulders-the tradition is that Shakespeare played the part of Adam-exemplified The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed [reward]. Thou art not for the fashion of these times, When none will sweat but for promotion. The usurping Duke pushes Orlando's brother out of d.oors, and orders his officers to Make an extent upon his house and lands335
AS YOU LIKE IT
Introduction
the regular fonn when taking possession of property. A 'why' is as 'plain as the way to parish church'-how that simple phrase brings the age before us! Rosalind describes Orlando and his love verses in these terms: '0 most gentle pulp iter ! What tedious homily of love have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never cried "Have patience, good people!" , Evidently parsons in their pulpits sometimes did-though in the Book of Homilies read in church there is none on Love. Cynical Jacques' comment on Orlando's pretty love-speeches is this: 'have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives and conned them out of their rings?' We hear of 'painted cloths' that hung in people's houses, of tilts and tilting that were a feature of Court life, and the executioner asking pardon on the scaffold before letting fall his axe-no less a feature of the age. 'The howling of Irish wolves against the moon' is a phrase that might have occurred at any time; but Irish amenities were much to the fore in this year 1598, that of the worst disaster to English anns at the rout of the Yellow Ford, which distinguished the opening of O'Neill's! rebellion in Ulster.
Themes. A main theme of the play is the contrast between Court and Country. The good Duke has been banished and has taken to the forest with his faithful followers; other characters take refuge there from their troubles and trials-his daughter Rosalind. is sent away from Court, and is accompanied by the bad Duke's daughter, Celia. Orlando takes refuge from the persecution of his brother. Before long everybody ends up in the forest, even the usurping Duke and the unkind brother are converted from their wicked ways. All this provides a theme which recommends itself to Shakespeare's sceptical view of the world. Touchstone says, 'if thou never wast at Court thou never sawest good manners'. To which the countryman, Corin, replies: 'those that are good manners at the Court are as ridiculous in the country as the behaviour of the country is most mockable at the Court'. At Court people kiss hands, and courtiers' hands sweat as well as shepherds' : the grease from handling sheep is as wholesome as the perfume courtiers use from civet, 'the very uncleanly flux of a cat'. Touchstone, the clown, claims to be a courtier: 'I have trod a measure [i.e. a dance]; I have flattered a lady; I have been politic [i.e. insincere] with my friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like to have fought one.' An underlying theme is that of faithfulness and simplicity against sophisticated selfishness and cruelty. The action is set going by an elder brother doing a younger out of his inheritance: 'he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother and mines my· gentility with my education'. Orlando reproaches his brother: 'my father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities.' We may be sure that this theme had real significance for Shakespeare, who was very much set on being ranked as a gentleman and, unlike many denizens of the theatre, behaved like one. We can catch something of him in personal reflections dropped in passing: it is Adam who says, Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies? Hugh O'Neill, native prince, known to the English as the Earl of Tyrone 1
And again, ... in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood,
Introduction ""~
_----c-,,-----.. '-- .- . .
)7:>.1 R;: £"0£
.p A R T
AS YOV LIKE IT
·;;~··;'~;,;~lh'···~' TE Ii
£
£-.
~.
"
irrah. Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honOllrable retreat; though not with bag and bagegage, yet with scrip and scrippage. I71 [Exeunt Conn and Touchstone. Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? Ros. 0, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. Cel. That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear themselves without the verse and therefore stood lamely in the verse. 1&0 Cel. But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name should be hanged and carved upon t he!'>C trees? R os. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree. I was never so be.rhymed since Pythagoras' time, that I was an e Irish rat, which I can hardly remember. Cel. Trow you who hath done this? Ros. Is it a man? 190 Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you colour! Ros. I prithee, who? Cel. 0 Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to meet; b\Jt mountains may be removed with earthquakes and so encounter. Ros. Nay, but who is it? Cel. Is it possible? Ros. Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is. 200 Cel. 0 wonderful, wonderful, and most WOO4 derful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and eafter that, out of all hooping! Ros. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparisoned like a man, I h~ve a
AS YOt:' LIKE IT
171 scrip and scrippage. Shepherd's pouch. 187 Pythagoras. He believed in the transmigration of souls.
188 Irish rat. An Irish superstition was that rats could be killed by incantations. 203
Ollt (~f all
hooping. Beyond :tIl measure.
Ce1iritten /;y t"~ ryg"', !,9UOT..we Leilk • , Hnuy H4~J'ltlte Eub! Sur. . '."~ TtY, Iflld tither. ',' . >'$,:
1
.
'
self; and the three party is, lastly and finally, mine host of the Garter. Page. We three, to hear it and end it between them. Evans. Fery goot: I will make a prief of it in my note-book; and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with as great discreetly as we can. Fal. Pistol! Pist. He hears with ears. ISO EValts. The tevil and his tam! what phrase is this, 'He hears with ear'? why, it is affedations. Fal. Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's purser Slen. Ay, by these gloves, did he, or I would I might never come in mine own great chamber • again else, of seven groats in mill-sixpences, and • two Edward shovel-boards, that cost me two shilling and two pence a-piece of Yead Miller, by these gloves. 161 Fal. Is this true, Pistol? Evans. No; it is false, if it is a pick-purse. • Pist. Ha, thou mountain-foreigner! Sir John and master mine, • I combat challenge of this latten bilbo. • Word of denial in thy labras here! Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest! S /e,t. By these gloves, then, 'twas he. NY11t. Be avised, sir, and pass good hu.mours: I wiiI say 'marry trap' with you, if you • run the nuthook's humour on me; that is the very note of it. Slelt. By this hat, then, he in the red face had it; for though I cannot remember what I did when you made me drunk, yet I am not altogether an ass. • F al. What say you, Scarlet aud John f Bard. Why, sir, for my part, I say the gentleman had drunk himself out of his five sentences. 180 Evans. It is his five senses: fie, what the ignorance is! • Bard. And being fap, sir, was, as they say, • cashiered; and so cone! usions passed the care ires. Skn. Ay, you spake in Latin then too; but 'tis no matter: I '11 ne'er be drunk whilst I live again, but in honest, civil, godly company, for this trick: if I be drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have the fear of God, and not with drunken knave~ X90 E vatlS. So Got udge me, that is a virtuous mind. Fal. You hear all these matters denied, gentlemen; you hear it. E,tter
PAGE, witlt 'wine; MISTRESS and MISTRESS PAGE, following-. Page. Nay, daughter, carry the wine in; we'll drink within. [Exit Anile Page. Sim. 0 heaven! this is Mistress Anne Page. Page. How now, Mistress Ford! Fal. Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well met: by your leave, good mistress. 200 [Kisses Iter. Page. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. Come, we have a hot venison pasty to dinner: come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness. [Exeunt all except S/uJI., Siell., and Evans. ANNE
FORD
i
.'
~Jliclmdum !~. ISV"-
C#llll!r.inikzio~
Title page of Richard Totters Book of Songs and Sonnets, 1577
454
Act I Scene I
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR J
S len. I had rather than forty shillings I had .my Book of Songs and Sonnets here. Enter SIMPLE. How now, Simple! where have you been? I must wait on myself, must I ? You have not the Book of Riddles about you, have you? Sim. Book of Riddles! why, did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last:, a fortnight afore Michaelmas? Sluzl Come, coz; come, coz; we stay for you. A word with you, coz; marry, this, coz: there .is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, made afar offby Sir Hugh here. Do you understand me? Slen. Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable; if it be 51), I shall do that that is reason. . Sltal. Nay, but understand me. Slen. So I do, sir. 220 Evans. Give ear to his motions, Master Slender: I will description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it. Slen. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says: I pray you, pardon me; he's a justice of peace in his country, simple though r stand here. E vani. But that is not the question: the question is concerning your marriage. .Slzal. AYt there's the point, sir. . Evans. Marry, is it; the very point of it; to Mistress Anne Page. 231 Slen. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any reasonable demands. Evans. But can you affection the 'oman? Let us command to know that of your mouth or of your lips; for divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth. Therefore, precisely, can you carry your good will to the maid 7 Skal Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love ~?
206 Book -peech. li. Are you a comedian? • Via. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house? ali. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Via. Most certain, if you are she, you do • usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow is • not yours to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message. ali. Come to what is important in 't: I forgive you the praise.. Via. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
a
157 Sheriff's post. Posts were placed in front of mayors' and sheriffs' doors.
168 squash. An unripe pea-pod. 167 codling. An unripe apple.
168 standing water. The turn of the tide. 187-188 I am ... sinister usage. I am sensitive to the smallest slight.
195 No, my profound heaTt.
);10,
in all sincerity.
200 lISl1Tp yourself. Viola chides Olivia that by not marrying she is wronging herself.
201-202 from my commisnan. Outside my instructions.
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act I Scene V
213 time of mOON. The moon was associated with lunacy. 217 swabber. The hand who washes the decks. hllll. drift.
218 giant. An ironic reference to :\Iaria's small size. 233 divinity. A theological dissertation.
251 curtain. This refers to the curtain that was hung over a picture to protect it against sun and dust. 252-253 such a one I'll,'as this present. This is a portrait of me, at present.
Olivia: ' ... 'is't not well done?' Painting by C. R Leslie (1794-1859)
255 in grain. Colour fast. Oliyia is refuting any suggestion that she might be wearing cosmetics. 273 nonpareil. Incomparable.
Opposite: Olivia unveiling. Engraving from a design by F. Hayman for Hanmer's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1744
518
Olio It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not • that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue. j/lfar. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. • Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a • little longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger. 220 Olio Sure, you have some hidc;ous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office. Vio. I t alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as full of pe.ace as matter. Olio Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you? 229 Vio. The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maiden.head; to your ears, divinity, to any other's, profanation. ali. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity. [Exeunt Maria and Attendants.] N ow, sir, what is your text? V io. Most sweet lady,Olt: A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your text? 240 Vio. In Orsino's bosom. Olio In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom? Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. o Ii. 0, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say? Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. ali. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? You are now out of • your text: but we will draw the curtain and show .you the piCture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't not well done? [ UmJcili1lg. Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. • Olt'. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather. Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave 260 And leave the world no copy. ali. 0, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensillabelled° to my will: as, item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me? Vio. I see you what you are, you are too proud; But, if/ou were the devil, you are fair. 270 My lor and master loves you: 0, sl1ch love Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd • • The nonpareil of beauty !
Act I Scene V
TWELFTH NIGHT
TWELFlH NIGHT
Act I Scene V How does he love me? Vio. With adorations, fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Olio Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him: Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; .In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant; .And in dimension and the shape of nature 280 A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him; He might have took his answer long ago. Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, With such a suffering, such a deadly life, In your denial I would find no sense; I would not understand it. Oft: Why, what would you Y • Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, .And call upon my soul within the house; \\Trite loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even.in the dead of night; • Halloo your name to the reverberate hills 29:1 And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out' Olivia!' 0, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me ! Olio You might do much. \Vhat is your parentage? • Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman. Olio Get you to your lord ; I cannot love him: let him send no more; Unless, perchance, you come to me again, 300 To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well: I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse: My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Love make his heart of flint that you shall love ; And let your fervour, like my master's, be Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. Olio
Viola (Dorothy Tutin) and Olivia (Geraldine McEwan), Stratford-upon-Avon, 1958
279 In voices well divulged. Well spoken of. 280 in dimension. Physically.
287 willow. The tree associated with the unrequited love. 288 my soul. i.e. Olivia. 291 Halloo. Cry loudly; there is also a pun here on
'hallow', meaning to honour. 297 state. Social class. 312 blazon. Coat of arms.
320
COIOIty'S
man. Count's man.
322 flatter. Arouse hope. 329 owe. Own.
[Exit.
Olio • What is your parentage l' , Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art; 3IO Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, aCtions and spirit, .Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft I Unless the master were the man. How now! Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Methinks I feel this youth's perfeCtions With an invisible and subtle stealth To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What hOI Malvolio ! Be-enter MALvoLIo. Mal. Here, madam, at your service. Olio Run after that same peevish messenger, .The county's man: he left this ring behind him, Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it. 321 .Desire him not to flatter with his lord, N or hold him up with hopes; I am not for him: If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio. Mal. Madam, I will. [Exit. Olio I do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. • Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe; What is decreed must ~ and be this so. [Exit.
520
Act II Scenes I & II
TWELFTH NIGHT
ACT II. SCENE 1. The sea-coast. EntItY ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. A nt. Will you stay no longer? nor will you
not that I go with you? S eb. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me: the malignancy of my fate might .perhaps distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you whither you are bound. xo • Seb. No, sooth, sir: my determinate vOyage .is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. My father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister, both born in an hour: if the heayens had been pleased, would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that; for some hour • before you took me from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned. A nt. Alas the day! SeD. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her; she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. SelJ. 0 good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. !fyou will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full • of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more • mme eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewell. (Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I have many enemies in Orsino's court, Else would I very shortly see thee there. But, come what may, I do adore thee so, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. 49
Antonio and Sebastian. Nineteenth century costume designs
5 distemper. Affect for the worse. 11-12 sooth. Truth. my Mtermmate ... extravagancy. My intention to travel is mere whim. 12-16 But I perceive . .. express myself. I see you are too polite to ask questions, so I will tell you who I am.
23 breach. Surf. 41-42 near the ... mother. Near tears. 43 tell tales of me. Betray me.
[Exit. SCENE
II. A street.
Enter VIOLA, MALVOLIOfoIIO'Wing. Mal. Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia? Vic. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: and one thing more, that 521
'IWELFTH NIGHT
Act II Scene III
13 She took the ring of me. Viola lies to protect Olivia.
20 She made good view of me. She stared at me. 29 pregnant enemy. Wily devil.
30 proper-false. Handsome deceivers. 34 fadge. Tum out.
you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. • Vio. She took the ring of me: I 'II none of it. Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye ; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her: what means this lady? Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her! • She made good view of me; indeed, so much, 20 That suremethought hereyes had lost her tongue, For she did speak in starts distraCl:edly. She loves me, sure; the .:unning of her passion Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord's ring I why, he sent her none. I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis, Poor lady, she were better love a dream. Dis.guise, I see, thou art a wickedness, • Wherein the pregnant enemy does much . • How easy is lt for the proper-false 30 In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we ! For such as we are made of, such we be . • HowwiII this fadge? my master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this? As I am man, My state is desperate for my master's love; As I am woman,-now alas the day!What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe! time! thou must untangle this, not I ; 4I It is too hard a knot for me to untie! [Exit.
o
SCENE
III.
OLIVIA'S
house.
Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW. Sir To. Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed
William Farren, 19th century actor, as Sir Andrew Aguecheek 2-3 'diluculo surgere'. 'It is most healthy to rise at dawn'; a tag from Lily's Latin Grammar. 10 four elements. The Elizabethans believed that everything was composed of earth, air, fire and water.
17 the picture of 'u,e three'. A picture of two fools or donkeys, with the viewer making the third.
.after midnight is to be l~p betimes; and 'diluculo surgere,' thou know'st,Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late is to be up late. Sir To. A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can. To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is e.arly: so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our .life consist of the four elements? 10 Sir And. Faith, so they say: but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking. Sir To. Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink. Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!
Enter CLOWN. Sir Ana.. Here comes the fool, i' faith. Clo. How now, my hearts! did you never
18 catch. A song sung in a round.
23-25 PigrogromituJ . . . QueubllS. Example of mock learning that Feste delights in. Z& leman. Sweetheart. 27 impeticos thy gratillity. More nonsense, but meaning 'pocket thy gratuity'.
28 whipstock. Whiphandle.
522
.see the piCl:ure of 'we three'? Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch. Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious .fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoCl:ial of Queubus: 'twas very good, i' faith. I sent thee .sixpence for thy leman: hadst it? • Clo. I didimpeticosthygratillity; for Malvolio's .nose is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
•
Act II Scene III
Sir And. Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song. 31 Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song. • Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one knight give aC/o. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life? Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. Sir And. Ay, ay: I care not for good life. C/o. [Sings) mistress mine, where are you roaming? 40 0, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith. Sir To. Good, good. C/o. [Sings] What is love! 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: SO In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. • Sir To. A contagious breath. Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. • Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin d.lnce indeed? shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch • that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shail we do that? • Sir Am/. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch. C/o. By'rlady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. Sir And. Most certain. Let our catch be, (Thou knave.' C/o. 'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be constrained in't to call thee knave, knight. 70 Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins (Hold thy peace.' C/o. I shall never begin if I hold my peace. Sir And. Good, i' faith. Come, begin. [Cat.:h sung.
o
TWELFTH NIGHT
34 tesh"il. Sixpence. 5& contagious breath. Catchy song.
58-59 To hear . .. contagion. If we could hear with our nose, we might call it sweet smelling. welkin. Sky. 81 tmee souls out of one weaver. Move intensely; weavers were often Puritans addicted to singing psalms. 83-84 1 am dog at. Good at.
:\1aria: 'What a caterwauling do you keep here!' From an early 19th century engraving 80 Catman. A native of Cathay (China), a rogue.
81 Peg-a-Ramsey. A popular ballad about a spying wife.
E nfer MARIA.
Mar. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. 79 • Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politi.dans, Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and' Three merry men be we.' Am not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally. Lady! [Sillf'.r] 'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!' C/o. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir To. [Sings]' 0, the twelfth day of December,'91 Mar. For the love 0' God, peace! 52 3
TWELFTH NIGHT Act II Scene III
Baliol Holloway as Malvolio, Stratford-up on-Avon, 1922
97 cozieTs'. Cobblers'. 101 Sneck up. Go hang. 124-125 cakes and ale. These were associated with church festivals and therefore disapproyed of by the Puritans.
129 cham. Steward's chain of office. 134 Go shake YOUT eaTS. Implies ~1alvolio is an ass.
145 gull. Deceive. 146 nayword. Byword. 160 time-pleaseT. Sycophant.
Enter MALvoLIo. Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are YOll? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady's house, that .ye squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse ofvoice? Is there no respeCt of place, persons, nor time in you? Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. • Sneck up ! 101 Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with yOll. My lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell. . Sir To. 'Farewell, dear- heart, since I must needs be gone.' lIO Mar. Nay, good Sir Toby. C/o. 'His eyes do show his days are almost done.' Mal. Is't even !\O? Sir To. ' But I will never die.' Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie. Mal. This is much credit to you. Sir To. • Shall I bid him go?' Clo. 'What an if you do?' Sir To. 'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?' Clo. • 0 no, no, no, no, you dare not.' 121 Sir To. Out 0' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think, because • thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall he hot i' the mouth too. Sir To. Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, nib .your chain with crums. A stoup of wine, Maria! Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil nile: she shall know of it, by this hand. [Exit. • Mar. Go shake your ears. Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with him and make a fovl of him. Sir To. Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. 141 Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night: since the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur • Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull .him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know I can do it. Sir To. Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him. ISO Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. Sir And. 0, if I thought that, I'ld beat him like a dog! Sir To. What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason, dear knight? Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough. Mar. The devil a puritan that he is, or any .thingconstointly, but a time-pleaser ; an affeCtioned
Act II Act IV • ass, that cons state without book and utters it by great swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work. Sir To. What wilt thou do? Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love: wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly • personated. I can write very like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands. Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device. Sir A nd. I have 't in my nose too. Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she's in love with him. 180 ~War. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. Sir And. And your horse now would make him an ass. Mar. Ass, I doubt not. Sir And. 0, 'twill be admirable! Mar. Sport roya~ I warrant you: I know my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter: observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. [Exit. • Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea. Sir And. Before me, she's a good wench. • Sir To. She's a .beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me : what 0' that? Sir A nd. I was adored once too. Sir To. Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more money. • Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out. 201 Sir To. Send for money, knight: if thou hast • her not i' the end, call me cut. Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. • Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late to go to bed now; come, knight; come, knight. [Exeunt. SCENE
IV.
Tlu
DUKE'S
jalace.
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and otlura. Duke. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends. N ow, good Cesario, but that piece of song, • That old and antique song we heard last night; Methought it did relieve my passion much, • More than light airs and recolleeted terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times: Come, but one verse. Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it. Duke. Who was it ? 10 Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. [Exit Curio. Music plays. Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
TWELFTHNIGHT
161 cons state without book. Learns courtly speeches by
heart. 173 personated. Described.
Maria: 'Sport royal, I warrant you'. Engraving from a painting by William Hamilton (1751-1801) 193 Pellthesilea. Queen of the Amazons.
195 beagle. Small, intelligent hunting dog. 200 reCO'l:er. Gain.
203 cut. Gelded. 206 burn some sack. "'arm some sherry.
3 antique. Quaint. 5 recollected terms. Studied phrases .
525
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act II Scene IV
18 mtJtions. Emotions. 38 hold the bent. Endure the strain. A term from archery.
45 spinsters. Spinsters; also, unmarried women. 46 bones. Bone bobbins used in lace-making. 47 silly. Simple. sooth. In fact.
Study for Twelfth Night by W. H. Deverell ( 1827-54) 63 cypress. A coffin made of cypress.
In the sweet pangs of it remember me; For such as 1 am all true lovers are, • U nstaid and skittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune' V u,. I t gives a very echo to the seat 2I Where Love is throned. .Duke. Thou dost speak masterly: My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves: Hath it not, boy? Vu,. A little, by your favour. Duke. What kind of woman is'U Vio. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. DtJee. Too old, by heaven: let still the woman take 30 An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart: For. boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn. Than women's are. Vio. I think it well, my lord. Duke. Then let thy love be younier than thyself, .Or thy affeCtion cannot hold the bent; For women are as roses, whose fair flower Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. 40 Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so ; To die, even when they to perfeCtion grow!
Re-enter CURIO and CLOWN. Duke. 0, fellow, come, the song we had last night. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain; .The spinsters and the knitters in the sun .And the free maids that weave their thread with bones .Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. C10. Are you ready, sir! 50 Duke. Ay; prithee, sing. [Musk. SoNG.
C/o. Come away, come away, death, • And in sad cypress let me be laid; Flyaway, flyaway, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. ~ly shroud of white, stuck all with yew 0, prepare it 1 ' My part of death, no Olle so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, 60 On my black coffin let there be strown . Not a friend, not a friend greet ' My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, 0, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there! Duke. There's for thy pains• . C/o. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, Slr.
70
Act II Scene IV
Duke. 1'11 pay thy pleasure theu. C/o. Truly. sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. • C/o. Now, the mdancholy god proted thee: and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable • taffeta. for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, t.lmt their business might be every thing and their intent every where; for that's it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. FarewelL 8x Duke.
TWELFTH NIGHT
75 melancholy god. Saturn. 77-BO I would have . . , every where. Feste comments that the Duke's changeable disposition makes him suitable to go to sea where his goinll hither and thither could prove profitable . 88 that miracle . . .gems. Her beauty.
89 pranks. Adorn.
(Exit.
Let all the rest give place. [Curio and Attenaallts retire. Once more, Cesario, Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty: Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ; The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune; • But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems • That nature pranks her in attratts my soul. V io. But if she cannot love you, sir! 90 Duke. I cannot be so answer'd. V io. Sooth, but you must. Say that some lady, as perhaps there is, Hath for your love as great a pang of heart As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her; You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd! Duke. There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating I!)f so strong a passion As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart So big, to hold so much; they lack retention. xoo Alas, their love may be caU'd appetite, No motion of the liver, but the palate, That suffer surfeit, doyment and revolt; But mine is aU as hungry as the sea, And can digest as much: make no compare Between that love a woman can bear me And that lowe Olivia. Vzo. Ay, but I knowDuke. What dost thou know? Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith. they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter loved a man, no As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship. . D,me. And what's her history? Vit)o A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damaskcheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more: but indeed • Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. 121 Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too: and yet I know not. Sir, shall I to this lady? Duke. Ay that's the theme. To her in haste; give her this jewel; say, My love can give no place, bide no denay. [E.:reuut.
Diana Rigg as Viola and Alan Howard as the Duke, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1966
1Z0 OUT shows aTe mOTe than will. We display more emotion than we really feel.
TWELFTH
~IGHT
Act II Scene V
2 scruple. A scrap.
SCENE
Enter SIR TOBY,
6 sheep-biter. A dog that attacks sheep. Therefore a man that chases after 'mutton' i.e. women.
17 metal uf India. Gold. 23 Close. Hide. 26 ticklinf(. Trout can be caught by stroking them. l"Iah'olio is to be caught by flattery.
28 affect. Admire. 29 fancy. Fall in love. 36 jets. Struts. 46 Jezebel. The harlot wife of King Ahab of Israel. Sir Andrew re\'eals his ignorance by this totally inappropriate reference. 48 blows him. Puffs him up.
Malvolio: 'Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown'. Walter Hudd as Malvolio, His )·fl\iesty's Theatre, London, 1947
51
stol/e-h()[~. A cross-bow that shoots stones.
58 the hUlI/ollr of state. TIle manner of an important personage. 59 after a demure trm.:el of regard. After looking around gravely.
528
V.
•
OLIVIA'S gardell.
SIR ANDREW,
and FABIAN.
Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. Fall. Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of
this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Sir To. W ouldst thou not be glad to have the • niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable ihame! Fall. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out 0' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here. 10 Sir To. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue: shall we not., Sir Andrew? Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Sir To. Here comes the little villain.
Enter
MARIA.
.How now, my metal of India I Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the sun praCl:ising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a econtemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting I Lie thou there [throws do'wn a letter]; for here comes the trout that must be caught .with tickling. [Exit.
Ettter MALVOLIO. Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria .once told me she did affeCt me: and I have heard .herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respeCl: than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't? Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue! Fall. 0, peace! Contemplation makes a rare .turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes! Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue! Sir To. Peace, I say. Mal. To be Count Malvoliol 40 Sir To. Ah, rogue! Sir AlI.d. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir To. Peace, peace ! Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. • Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebell Fab. 0, peace! now he's deeply in: look how .imagination blows him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,50 • Sir TD. 0, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a daybed, where I have left Olivia sleeping,Sir To. Fire and brimstone! Fab. 0, peace, peace I • Mal. And then to have the humour of state; • and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby,61
Act II Scene V
°
Sir To. Bolts and shackles 1 Fab. peace, peace, peace! now, now. Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient • start, make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind up my watch, or pla.y with mysome rich jewel. Toby approaches ; courtesies there to me,Sir To. Shall this fellow live? F ab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. 7'% Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control,Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow 0' the lips then! Maj. Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'Sir To. What, what? 80 Mal. 'You must amend your drunkenness.' Sir To. Out, scab! Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot. Mal. 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight,'Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. Maj. 'One Sir Andrew,'Sir And. I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool. 90 Mal. What employment have we here? [ Taking up tlte lett~ F abo Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. 0, peace! and the spirit ofhumoms intimate reading aloud to him! Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that? 1:00 Maj. [Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes:'-her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her • Lucrece, with which she uses to seal ~ ''tis my lady. To whom should this be? FalJ. This wins him, liver and all Mal. [Reads] Jove knows I love: But who? Lips, do not move; No man must know. 1:110 'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers altered! ' No man must know:' if this should be thee, Malvolio? • Sir To. Marry, bang thee, brock! Mal. [Reads] I may command where I adore; But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore : M, 0, A. I, doth sway my life. • F abo A fustian riddle! Sir To. Excellent wench, say 1. 1:20 Maj. 'M, 0, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see. FaD. What dish 0' poison has she dressed him! • Sir To. And with what wing the staniel • checks at it ! Mal 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command me: I serve her; she is my
TWELFTH NIGHT
65 make QlltJor him. Fetch him.
:\Iah'olio: 'To the unknown beloved, . .' Xicol \l\Tilliamson as Malvolio, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1974
104 Lucrece. A signet ring depicting Lucrece, a Roman matron who stllbbt.-d herself after being raped; therefore a symbol of chastity. 114 brock. Badger.
119 fllstian. Worthless. 124 stoniel. A small h.1Wk. 125 checks at it. Swen'es to snatch at it.
529
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act II Scene V
128-129 formal capacity. ::-.iormal intelligence.
135 Sowter. A hound's name.
140 faults. Breaks in scent. 141 consonancy. Consistency.
142 probation. Scrutiny. 144 0 shall end. Shall end in -crying.
152 crush. Squeeze a meaning. 155
r~'Olve.
Consider.
163 tang. Resound. 164-165 trick of singularity. The affectation of eccentricity.
173 champa;n. Open country. 176 point-de-dse. Precise.
178 jade. Deceive. 184 strange. Haughty.
• lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity; there is no obstruction in this: and the end,-what should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me,-Softly I M, 0, A, 1,Si,. To. 0, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent. • Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvolio; M,-why, that begins my name. F abo Did not I say he would work it out? the • cur is excellent at faults. 1:40 • Mal. M,-but then there is no consonancy in • the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but does. • F abo And shall end, I hope. Sir To. Ay, or 1'11 cudgel him, and make him cry O! Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraCtion at your heels than fortunes before you. ISO Mal. M, 0, A, I; this simulation is not as • the former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose. .[Reads] 'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, .surly with servants; let thy ton,gue tang argu.ments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I say. remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so: if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,
°°
THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
Malvolio: 'Jove, I thank thee: I will smile .. .' Illustration by Charles E. Brock, 1916
53 0
.Daylight and champain discovers not more: this is open. 1 will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off .gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let ima.gination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunCtion drives me to these habits of her liking. • 1 thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. [Reads] 'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy iIlliling; thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.' Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for
Act III Scene I a pension of thousands to be paid from the • Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device. 200 Sir And. So could I too. Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest. Sir And. Nor I neither. • Fal!. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
•
TWELFTH NIGHT
198 Sophy. The Shah of Persia.. See introduction .
Re-enter MARIA. Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot 0' my neck! Sir And. Or 0' mine either? Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray:-trip,
and become thy bond-slave? Sir And. l' faith, or I either? 210 Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad. Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vit:re with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fmits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings., and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addiCted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it; follow me. • Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. [E..reUl'Jt.
1.
OLIVIA'S
J.
Gower Parks, New
20'5 gull-catcher. A trapper of fools.
ACT III. SCENE
Costume design for Maria by Theatre, London, 1932
garden.
E,tter VIOLA, and CLOWN with. a taJur. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost • thou live by thy tabor? C10. No, sir, I live by the church. Vio. Art thou a churchman? C 10. No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my hoose doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. :II Clo. You have said, sir. To see this age! A • sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward! • Vio. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with words may quickly make them • wanton. Clo. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. 20 Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word: and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. Vio. Thy reason, man? C/o. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words: and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.
208 tmy-t)·ip. A dice-game in which three (tray) was important.
226 Tartar. Tartarus, the classical name of Hell.
2 tabor. A small drum. 13 che'l:eril. Kid. 16-17 dally /licely. Play subtly.
18 wanton. Equivocal, but also 'unchaste', which is the meaninl6 that the clown picks up in his reply.
531
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act III Scene I
Dorothy Tutin as Viola and Max Adrian as Feste, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1960 48 pass upon. Make fun of. 50 commodity. Consiinment.
55 these. Coins that Viola had iiven him. 57 use. Interest.
Vi4. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing. 3I Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husb-.mds as pilchards are to herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun, it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir,' but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there. • Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. • C/o. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard! ,51 Vi4. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one; [AsUie] though I would not have it grow on _lllY chin. Is thy lady within? • Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together and put to .use. • Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus. Vio. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great., sir, • begging but a beggar: Cress ida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come; who you are and what you would are outofmywelkin, I might say'element,' but the word is over-worn. [E.xit. V i4. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests. The quality of persons, and the time, 70 .And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice As full oflabour as a wise man's art: F or folly that he wisely shows is fit; • But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.
58 PandaTUs. The io-between in the love affair of Troilus and Cressida. 62 Cressida . . . beggar. In Henryson's Testament of Cresseid, the heroine ends her days as a leper and a beggar.
71 haggard. A wild hawk. 75 folly-faWn. Acting foolishly. taint their u'it. Betray their good sense.
78-79 Dieu ... ser'viteUT. God keep you, sir. And you too, your servant. 86 list. Goal.
53 2
•
Enter SIR TOBY, tUtd SIR ANDREW. Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Vio. And you, sir. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Vio. Et YOUS aussi; votre serviteur. Sir Attd. I hope, sir, you are; and I am
yours. 81 Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, .she is the list of my voyage. Sir To. Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste IIllY legs. 91 Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are prevented.
Act III Scene I Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to .your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. 100 Sir And. • Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed :' I'll get 'em all three all ready. Olio Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearin~. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Marta.] Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. ali. What is your name? Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. • ali. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: no You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. ali. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me! V io. Madam, I 'come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalf. 0#. 0, by your leave, I pray you, I bade you never speak again of him: But, would you undertake another suit, I had rather hear you to solicit that 120 • Than music from the spheres. Vio. Dear lady,ali. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you: • Under your hard construction must I sit, To force that on you, in a shameful cunning, Which you knew none of yours: what might you think? .Have you not set mine honour at the stake And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 130 • That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving • Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom, Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you. Olio That's a degree to love. • Vio. No, not a grize; for'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies. ali. Why, then, me thinks 'tis time to smile again. o world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the lion than the wolf! 140 [Clock strz'kes.
TWELFTH NIGHT
100 pregnant and ·couchsafed. Quick to understand and graciously granted.
Oli"ia: 'Give me your hand, sir'. Olivia (Lisa Harrow) and Viola (Judi Dench), Royal Shakespeare Co, 1971
109 'Trcas . .. world, A proverbial phrase meaning the world has changed for the worse. 121 nIusic from the spheres. The Elizabethans believed that the rotation of the stars and the planets produced celestial music . 126 construction. Interpretlltion. 129 at flU! stake. An image from bear-baiting, where the bear was tied to a stake and hllrassed by dogs. 131 recei'l.'ing. C nderstanding. 132 cytwess. The dark foliage was taken as a symbol of mourning. 135 grize. Step. 'I:ulgar proof. Common knowledge.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you: And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, Your wife is like to reap a proper man: There lies your way, due west. Vio. Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition Attend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to lUY lord by me? 533
TWELFTH
~IGHT
Act III Scene II
160 lo've's . .. noon. Lo\'e cannot be hidden. 163 maugre. In spite of.
12 argument. Evidence. 14 'Slight. By God's light.
2& balked. Missed. 29-30 a Dutchman's beard. An allusion to the explorer William Barentz. See introduction.
Oli. Stay: I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. 150 Vio. That you do think you are not what you are. Olio If I think so, I think the same of you. Vio. Then think you right: I am not what I am. Olio I would you were as I would have you be ! V;o. Would it be better, madam, than I am? I wish it might, for now I am your fool. Olio 0, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip ! A murderous guilt shows not itself Jll()re soon • Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noo~
100
Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing, • I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause; But rather reason thus with reason fetter, Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth. I have one heart, one bosom and one truth, 170 And that no woman has; nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu, good madam: never more Will I my master's tears to you deplore. OIl. Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exnmt. SCENE
II.
Enter SIR TOBY,
OLIVIA'S
house.
SIR ANDREW,
ami FABIAN.
Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw 't i' the orchard. Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. 10 Sir AI/d. As plain as I see you now. • Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. • Sir And. 'Slight, will you make an ass 0' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgement and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor. FalJ. She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heat·t, and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, firenew from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at .Your hand, and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; .where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some 31 lau:iable attempt either of valour or policy. Sir And. An't be any way, it mu...t be with 534
Act III Scene III valour; for policy I hate: 1 had as lief be a • Brownist as a politician. Sir To. Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall take note of it; and assure thyself; there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valour. 41 Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be • curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent andfullofinvention: taunt him with the .license of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big • enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em • down: go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it. Sir And. Where shall I find you? • Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: go.
•
Df
RDbert
Brow~e,
a Puritan.
46 curst. Difficult.
48 thou thou'st. Address him as 'thDU' (which was used fDr
familiars and inferiDrs).
51 bed of Ware. A famDus bed, almDst eleven feet square, nDW in the VictDria and Albert Museum, LDndDn.
[Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad, some
two thousand strong, or so. Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver't? 61 Sir To. N ever trust me, then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think • oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so • much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a fiea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy. Fn/J. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.
E,zter MARIA. •
34 Browmst. A fDllDwer
TWELFTH NIGHT
S£r ·To.
Look, when: the younge.st wren of nine comes. 71 • Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such im.possible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. Sir To. And cross-gartered? 79 Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church. I have dogged him, like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his face into more lines than is • in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things t..t him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do, he'll smile and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt. go SCENE
III. A street.
The bed Df Ware
52 gall. Sir TDby puns Dn the twO' meanings; the first, 'bitterness', and the secDnd, Dne Df the ingredients Df ink.
56 cllbiculo. Chamber. 57 manakin. Puppet. 64 wainropes. WaggDn-rDpes. ·66 blood in his Ii-veT. The liver was the seat Df courage
and therefDre a lack Df bloDd wDuld indicate cDwardice.
70 the youngest wren. The wren, Dne Df the smallest birds, usually lays abDut nine eggs. The last hatched is the smallest; so Maria was acted by a small bDY.
72 the spleen. A fit
Df
laughter.
77 passages. Pieces. 85-86 the neW map . .. Indies. MDllineux published a map Df the wDrld in 1599 which shDwed the East Indies arid :SDrth America in greater detail than any befDre. Maria compares the net-wDrk Df rhumb-lines Dn the map to' the wrinkles Dn MalvDliD's face.
E "fer SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO. Seb. I would not by my will have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, 1 will no further chide you. 535
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act III Scene IV
8 jealousy. Anxiety. 16 UnCltTTent. Worthless.
11 worth. Means. 26 the count his galleys. The Count's galleys. 28 it . . . amwer'd. It would he difficult to make a defence.
31 quality.
~ature.
34 traffic's. Trade's. 36 lapsed. Caught.
45 store. i.e. of money.
46 idle markets. {!nnecessary purchases.
5 sad. Grave.
Ant. I could not stay behind you: my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, though SO much As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, • But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger, Unguided and unfriended, often prove xo Rough and unhospitable: my willing love, The rather by these arguments of fear, Set forth in your pursuit. SeD. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make but thanks, t And thanks; and ever.••••. oft good turns .Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay: • But, were my worth as is my conscience firm, You should find better dealing. What's to do? Shall we go see the reliques of this town ? Ant. To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging. 20 SeD. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night: I pray you. let us satisfy our eyes With the memorials and the things of fame That do renown this city. Ant. Would you'ld pardon me; I do not without danger walk these streets: .Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys I did some service; of such note indeed, • That were I ta' en here it would scarce be ansWer'd. Seb. Belike you slew great number of his people. Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature; 30 • Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel Might well have given us bloody argument. It might have since been answer'd in repaying • What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake, Most of our city did: only myself stood out; • For which, if I be lapsed in this place, I shall pay dear. Seb. Do not then walk too open. Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse. In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet, 40 Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge With viewing of the town: there shall you have me. Seb. Why I your purse? Ant. Haplyyour eye shall light upon some toy • You have deSlre to purchase; and your store, • I think, is not for idle markets, sir. Seb. I '11 be your purse-bearer and leave you For an hour. Ant. To the Elephant. Seb. I do remember. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.
OLIvIA'sgartkn.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Olio I have sent after him: he says he'11 come; How shall I feast him? what bestow ofhim? For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd. I speak too loud. • Where is Malvolio? he is sad and clviI, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes: Where is Malvolio?
Act III Scene IV He's coming, madam; but in very manner. He is, sure, possessedz madam. 01,. Why, what's the matterY does he rave! Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits. Oli. Go call him hither. [Exit Maria.] I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be.
Mar.
TWELFTH NIGHT
9 possessed. i.e. by de,"ils.
.stran~
Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIo. How now, Malvolio! Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho. Oli. Smilest thou! I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. 20 Mal. Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some obstruCtion in the blood, this cro~ gartering; but what of that? if it please the eye • of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is, • ' Please one, and please all.' Oli. Why, how d06t thou, man? what·is the matter with thee? Mal. Not black in my mind, though lellow in my legs. It did come to his hands, an commands shall be executed: I think we do know • the sweet Roman hand. 3r Olio Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mal. To bed I ay, sweet-heart, and I'll CODlIt to thee. . Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so oft? Mar. How do you, Malvolio? Mal. At your requestl yes; nightingales answer daws. Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady? .p Mal. • Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well writ. Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio? Mal. 'Some are bonl great,'Oli. Ha! JJIal. ' Some achieve greatness,'Olio What sayest thou? Mal. • And some have greatness thrust upon them.' 50 Oli. Heaven restore thee! Mal. • Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'Olio Thy yellow stockings t Mal. 'And w.ished to see thee cross-gartered.' Oli. Cross-gartered ! Mat. ' Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be 50;'Oli. Am I made? S9 Mal. 'If not, let me see thee a servant still! • Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.
Malvolio: 'Sweet lady, ho, 00'. Engraving from a painting by John Henry Ramberg (1763-1140)
24
SOli net.
Song.
25 'Please ooe, and please all'. The refrain of a popular ballad.
31 Roman hand. Italic handwriting. 61 midsummer madness. Proverbially a time associated with madness and oddity.
70 miscarry. Come to harm.
Enter Servant. Sw. M~ the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is l!etUmed: I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure. Olio I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him: I would not • have him miscarry for the half of my dowry _ 70 [Exeunt Olivia and Mana. 537
TWELITH NIGHT
Act III Scene IV
Act III Scene IV
TWELFTH NIGHT
Mal. 0, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs direCtly with the letter: she sends him eon purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. ' Cast thy humble slough,' says she; 'be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity;' and consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir eof note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful I And ewhen she went away now 'Let this fellow be looked to:' fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres etogether, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance-What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. e
Be-enter MARIA, with.
SIR TOBY
and FABIAN.
Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanCtity? If all the devils of hell be drawn in elittle, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. FalJ. Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man? Mal. Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my eprivate: go off. 100 Mar. La, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays to have a care of him. Ma Ah, ha! does she so? Sz'r To. Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal ,ently with him: 'let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say? IlO Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched! Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than 1'11 say. Mat. How now, mistress! Mar. 0 Lord! Sir To. Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not ethe way: do yon not see you move him? let me alone with him. 122 Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. e Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock! how edost thou, chuck? Mal Sir! e Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, eman! 'tis not: for gravity to play at cherry-pit ewith Satan: hang him, foul collier! :130 Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray. Mal. My prayers, minx! Mar. No, I warrant you, he not hear oC godliness. M ai. Go. hang yourselves alII you are idle
IOU
wm
:\ialvolio in Olivia's garden. Detail from a painting by Daniel Maclise, 1829 71 come near me. Begin to understand. 74 stubborn. Hostile.
82 limed. Caught (as birds are snared with sticky bird lime).
84 fellow. :Ualyolio believes that Olivia implies 'companion' and not the other meaning 'menial'.
87 dram. A measure of one eighth of an ounce. scruple. Has a double meaning; 'doubt' and 'one third of a dram'.
95 Legion. The unclean spirits that possessed a madman: see :.Ylark, 3, ix.
100 prvvate. Prh·acy. 121
1II000:e
him. C'pset him.
125 baucock. Fine fellow, from the French beau coq. 126 chuck. Chick.
128 Biddy. Chicken from 'chickabiddy'. 129 cherry-pit. Cherry stone; a child's game with cherry stones.
130 foul collier. i.e. the Devil. Opposite: :\-Ialvolio cross-gartered. Engraving from a design by H. Gravelot for Theobald's edition, 1773
539
TWELFTH NIGHT Act III Scene IV 137 element. Sphere of life.
142 genius. Soul. 145 take . .. taint. Be exposed and spoilt.
.shallow things: I am not of your element: you shall know more hereafter. [Ezit. Sir To. Is't possible? FaD. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiCtion. 141 • Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infeCtion of the device, man. Mar. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device • take air and taint. Fab. Why, we shall make him mad indeed. Mar. The house will be the quieter. • Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we rna)' carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder ef madmen. But see, but see.
Enter SIR ANDREW. Fab. More matter for a May morning. Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it: I warrant there's vinegar and pepper in't. Fab. Is't so saucy? Sir And. Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read. r6r Sir To. Give me. [ReatlrJ -Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.' Fab. Good, and valiant. Sir To. [Reatlr] 'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.' Fab. A good note; that keeps you from the • blow of the law. r6g Sir To. [Reads] 'Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.' F abo Very brief, and to exceeding good sense -less. Sir To. [Reath] 'I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,'Fab. Good. St"r To. [Read.r] 'Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.' 180 • Fab. Still you keep 0' the windy side of the law: good. Sir To. [Reads] 'Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He rna" h1:ant question.
TWELFTH NIGHT
63 started. Roused. 64 relish. Meaning.
66 Lethe. The river of oblivion in Hades.
2 Topas. A semi-precious stone supposed to cure lunacy. Also the hero of Chaucer's satirical romance Rime of Sir TofHlS. 10 housekeeper. Solid citizen. 12 competitors. Confederates.
14 Bonos dies. 'Good day' in bad Latin. 15 hermit of Prague. Another example of Feste's mockery of the practice of citing authority. 16 King Gurboduc. Mythical British king.
29 hyperbolical. Extravagant. 41 barricadoes. Barricades. ciear5tures. Windows high up in a walL
:\falvolio: 'I am not mad, Sir Topas'. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846 48 Egyptians in their fog. One of the plagues that Moses called down on Egypt was a darkness lasting three days. 53 constant. Rational.
547
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act IV Scene II
Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl? Mal. That the soul of our pandam might haply inhabit a bird.• C10. What thinkest thou of his opinion! Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and DO way approve his opinion. 60 C/o. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well. Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas! Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Tapas ! • Clo. Nay, I am. far all waters. Ma,.. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.. 70 Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would. we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be con.veniently delivered, I would he were, for I am now SO far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. •
Malvolio: 'Sir Tapas, Sir Tapas!' Engmving by H. Fuseli from Steevens's edition, 1805 54 Pythagoras. A Greek philosopher who believed in the transmigmtion of souls.
68 for all waters. I can turn my hand to anything.
14 delivered. Released. 81 perdy. By God, from the French par Dieu.
92..93 besides y011Y ji'l.-'e wits. Mad. The wits were analOiloUS with the five senses and consisted of memory, common wit, estimation, imagination and fantasy.
99 propertied. Treated me like a (theatrical) property. 102-103 the minister is here. For the next few lines the clown alternates between his own voice and that of Sir Tapas. 112 shent. Reproved.
Cle. [Singing] • Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does.' Aial Fool! 80 • Clo. 'My lady is unkind, perdy.' Aial Fool! Clo. 'Alas, why is she so?' Mal. Fool, I say! C/o. 'She loves another '-Who calls, haY Mal Good fool, as. ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper: as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee {or't. C/o. Master Malvolio? go Mal Ay, good fool. • C/o. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. • Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits. 101 • Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavensrestore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble. Mal. Sir Topas ! C/o. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas. Marry, amen. I will, sir, I will. Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say! no Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? • I am shent for speaking to you. Mal. Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria. C/o. Well-a-day that you were, sir! Aial. By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and light; and convey what I will set down to my lady: it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did. 120 Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true,
Act IV Scene III are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit? Mal. Believe me, I am not: I tell thee true. CIa. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink. Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I prithee, be gone. CIa. [Sing'i1tg] I am gone, sir, 130 And anon, sir, I'll be with you again, In a trice, • Like to the old Vice, Your need to sustain; Who, with dagger of lath, In his rage and his wrath, Cries, all, ha! to the devn: Like a mad lad, Pare thy nails, dad; 140 t Adieu, good man devil. [Exit. SCENE III.
TWELITH NIGHT
134 Vice. A stock character in the Morality plays who carried a wooden dagger with which he would try to pare the Devil's nails. 12 mstcmce. Precedent. discourse. Reason. 21 deceiveable. Deceptive.
OLIVIA'S garden.
EHler SEBASTIAN.
Sell. This is the air: that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't; And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. \Vhere's.Antonio, then? I could not find him at the Elephant: Yet there he was; and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service; For though my soul disputes well with my sense, That this may be some error, but no madness, 10 Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune .So far exceed all instance, all discourse, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes And wrangle with my reason that persuades me To any other trust but that I am mad Or else the lady's mad; yet, if'twere so, She could not sway her house, command her followers, Take and give back affairs and their dispatch With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing As I perceive she does: there's something in't 20 .That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.
Olivia: 'Blame not this haste of mine'. Drawina by William Hamilton (1751-1801)
24 chantry by. Xearby chapel. 26 Plight me. Olivia is askinll for a betrothal ceremony in the presence of a witness, which was almost as bindina as the marriage ceremony. 30 celebration.
~iarriage
ceremony.
Enter OLIVIA and Priest. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me and with this holy man • Into the chantry by: there, before him. And underneath that consecrated roof. • Plight me the full assurance of your faith; That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace. He shall conceal it Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, • What time we will our celebration keep 30 According to my birth. What do you say? Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you; And, havin" sworn truth, ever will be true. 01£'0. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens 50 shine, That they may fairly note this aCt of mine! [Exew,t.
Oli.
549
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act V Scene J
22 abused. Deceived. 23-24 conclusions to be as kisses. If conclusions be compared to kisses. four negatit:es make your t'lt·o affirmatives. A common jest of the period that the 'no, no, no, no', of a coy lady actually mean 'yes, yes'. 35 grace. A play on the meanings I) the title of the Duke; 2) generosity; and 3) virtue. 40 the third pays for all. The original fonn of the saying 'Third time lucky'.
41 triplex. Triple time in music. 42 bells of Saint Bennet. This may refer to the bells of St. Benet Hithe, a church across the river from the Globe.
56 Vulcan. The blacksmith of the gods in mythology.
Vulcan. From a 19th century engra\ing
57 bau:bling. Trifling. 59 -scathful. Destructi\'e.
ACT V. SCENE
1.
Bifore
OLIVIA'S h01lse.
Enter CLOWN and FABIAN. Fa". Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. C/o. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. Fa". Any thing. C/o. Do not desire to see this letter. Fa". This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog again. Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURTO, and Lords. Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends? C/o. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings. IO Duke. I know thee well: how dost thou, my good fellow? C/o. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. C/o. No, sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be? C/o. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: SO that by my foes, sir, I profit in the know.ledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused: .so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me : there's gold. 31 Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. 0, you give me ill counsel. • C/o. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, J will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer: there's another. C/o. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; .and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the .triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the • bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. C/o. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit. Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. Enter ANTONIO and Officers. Duke. That face of his I do remember well; Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd .As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war: .A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught and bulk unprizable; • With which such scathful grapple did he make
55 0
Act V Scene I • With the most noble bottom of our fleet, 60 That very envy and the tongue of loss Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter? First Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio • That took the Phamix and her fraught from Candy; And this is he that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: • Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, • In private brabble did we apprehend him. Vic. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side; But in conclusion put strange speech upon me: 70 • I know not what 'twas but distraCtion. Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, Hast made thine enemies? Ant. Orsino, noble sir, Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me: Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, • Though I confess, on base and ground enough, Orslno's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: That most ingrateful boy there by your side, 80 From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was: His life I gave him and did thereto add My love, without retention or restraint, All his in dedication; for his sake Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town; Drew to defend him when he was beset: Where being apprehended, his false cunning, Not meaning to partake with me in danger, qo • Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, And grew a twenty years removed thing While one would wink; denied me mine own purse, Which I had recommended to his use Not half an hour before. Vic. How can this be! Duke. When came he to this town? Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months before, No interim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company.
Enter OLIVIA and Attendants. Duke. H ere comes the countess: now heaven walks on earth. 100 But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon. Take him aside. Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Vio. Madam! D,tke. Gracious Olivia,Olio What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,xog Vio. My lord wouldspeak;mydutyhushesme. Olio If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine eaT' As howling after music.
TWELFTH NIGHT
60 bottom. Ship.
64 fraught. Freight. Candy. Candia, Crete. 67 desperate. Recklessly ignoring.
68 brabble. Brawl. 71 distraction. Madness. 78 on base and ground. With sound grounds.
91 to face me out of his aClplOintance. To deny any acquaintance with me.
Costume design for Orsino by Norman Wilkinson,
1912
55 1
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act V Scene I
121 Egyptian thief. Heliodorus, in his Etkiopica, records the tale of the bandit Thyamis who tried to kill the woman he loved, rather than let her fall into the hands of his enemies. 126 screws me. Wrenches.
129 tender dearl:y. Love dearly. 139 More, by all mores. More than all comparisons.
f
t
V
j
"'"->r.',._'_
Costume desi211 for Viola by Norman Wilkinson,
1912
148 sirrah. Customary form of address to an inferior. 150 strangle thy p·fOpriety. Deny your identity i.e. as Olivia's husband.
164 function. Official capacity as a priest.
Duke.
Still so cruel? Still so constant, lord. Duke. What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfuU'st offerings hath breathed out That e'er devotion tender'd I What shall I do? Olio Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, 120 • Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, Kill what I love!-a savage je.alousy That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this: Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument • That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still; But this your minion, whom I know you love, .And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, 130 Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven's he.art within a dove. Vio. And I, most jocund, apt and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. Olio Where goes Cesario? Vio. After him I love More than I love these eyes, more than my life, • More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. If I do feign, you witnesses above 140 Punish my life for tainting of my love ! Oli. Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled ! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Olio Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long? Call forth the holy father. Duke. Come, away! Olio Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband! Olio Ay, husband: can he that deny? • Duke. Her husband, sirrah! Vio. No, my lord, not 1. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear • That makes thee strangle thy propriety: ISO Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up ; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st. Olio
Enter Priest. 0, welcome, father! Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Here to unfold, though lately we intended To keep in darkness what occa~ion now Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me. Priest. A contraCt of eternal bond oflove, Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 160 Attested by the holy close of lips, Strengthen'd by interchangemellt of your rings; And all the ceremony of this compaCt .Seal'd in my funCtion, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave I have L-avell'd but two hours. Dteke. thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
°
55 2
Act V Scene I
TWELFTH NIGHT
• When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shaH be thine overthrow? 170 Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feeL Where thou and I henceforth may never meeL Vio. My lord, I do protestOlio 0, do not swear ! Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
168 grizzle. Grey hairs. case. Skin, as of a fox.
Enter SIR ANDREW. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon 1 Send one presently to Sir Toby. Oli. Wha.t's the matted Sir And. He has broke my head across and • has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home. 181 Olio Who has done this, Sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil • incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? • Sir And. 'Od's lifelings., here he is! You broke my head for nothing; and that tha.t I did I was set on to do't by Sir T o b y . ' Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: 190 You drew your sword upon me without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. Sir And. Ifa bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
196 halting. Limping.
E,tter
SIR TOBY
179 coxcomb. Head. 185 incardinate. Sir Andrew means 'incarnate'. 187 'Od's liJelings. By God's life.
198 othergates. Otherwise. 205 set. Closed. 206-207 passy measures. A slow stately dance. panyn. Paynim; a heathen.
and CLOWN •
• Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would • have tickled you othergate.s than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman! how is't with you? 200 Sir To. That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. 0, he's drunk, Sit Toby, an hour agone; • his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. • Sir To. Then he's a rogue, t and a pas.sy measures panyn: I hate a drunken rogue. Olio Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them? Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. 2II Sir To. Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull ! Olio Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd [Exe1~tt Clo'UJ1l, Fabian, Sir Toby, and to. Sir A ndreV».
Couple dancing the Passy Pavan. Engraving by F. W. Fairholt for J. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65
218 !cith ft'it and tafet·y. With due regard for my own safety.
223 habit. Clothing. 224 perspecti'l.'e. Optical illusion.
Ellter SEBASTIAN. Scb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman; But, had it been the brother of my blood, • I must have done no less with wit and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that I do perceive it hath offended you: 220 Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago. • Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons, .A natural perspeCtive. that is and is not I Seb. Antonio, my dear Antonio!
°
553
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act V Scene I
234-235 Nor can there . .. ever)' fehere. Xor can I be here and everywhere, unlike God. 241 suited. Dressed. 244 dimension grosslJ' clad. Bodily form. 245 Which from the . .. participate. Which I have had from birth. 246 as the rest goes even. As everything else fits. 256 lets. Prevents. 259 cohereandjwnp. Come together and agree. 267 bias. Inclination. 27Z the glass seems true. The optical illusion is proving to be real. 278 orbed continent. The sphere of the sun. 283 durance. Imprisoned.
Lily Brayton as Viola, Her Majesty's Theatre, London, 1901
554
How have the hours rack'd and tortured me, Since I have lost thee 1 . Ant. Sebastian are you! Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Ant. How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 2~O Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? ali. Most wonderful! Seb. Do 1 stand there? I never had a brother; .N or can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. Of charity, what kin are you to me? What countryman? what name? what parentage? Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, 240 .So went he suited to his watery tomb: If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us. Seb. A spirit I am indeed; .But am in that dimension grossly clad • Which from the womb I did participate. • Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!' Via. My father had a mole upon his brow. Seb. And so had mine. 250 Via. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. 0, that record is lively in my soul! He finished indeed his mortal aCt That day that made my sister thirteen years. • Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both But this my masculine usurp'd attire, Do not embrace me till each circumstance .Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump That I am Viola: which to confirm, 260 I 'n bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help I was preserved to serve this noble count. All the occurrence of my fortune since Hath been between this lady and this lord. Scb. [To Ok'v.a] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: .But nature to her bias drew in that. You would have been contraCted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived, You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. 270 .Duke. Be not amazed; right noble is his blood. • Ifthis be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck. [To Viola] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. V;o. And all those sayings will lover-swear; And all those swearings keep as true in soul .As doth that orbed continent the fire That severs day from night. nuke. Give me thy hand: And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. 280 Vio. The captain that did bring me first on shore Hath my maid's garments: he upon some aCtion .Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
Act V Scene I
•
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. Olio He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither: And yet, alas, now I remember me, They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Re-enter CLOWN with a letter, and FABIAN. • A most extraCting frenzy of mine own From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. How does he, sirrah? 290 • CZO. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the staves's end as well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a letter to you; I should have given 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's epistles .are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered. Olio Open 't, and read it. CZo. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. (Rea.tir] 'By the Lord, madam,'goo Olio How now! art thou mad? C10. No. madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you • must allow Vox. Olio Prithee, read i' thy right wits. C10. So I do, madonna; but to read his right • wits is to read thus; therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Olio Read it you, sirrah. (To Fabian. F abo [R eadrJ 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: ':hough you have put me into darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of and speak out of my illjury.
TWELFTH NIGHT
285 enlarge. Release.
288 estractlng. Drawing every thought from the mind. 291-292 he holds Be1zebub ... staves's end. He holds the devil at bay.
295 skills .. :\'1atters. 304 Vox. Appropriately loud VOice for speaking m public.
307 perpend. Xotice.
327 proper. Own.
328 apt. Ready.
THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO.'
Ott: Did he write this? 320 Clo. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Olio See him deliver'd. Fabian; bring him hither. . [Exit Fabian. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, .Here at my house and at my proper cost. • Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. [To Viola] Your master quits you; and for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, 330 So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, And since you call'd me master for so long, Here is my hand: you shall from this time be Your master's mistress. Olio A sister! you are she.
Richard Yates, 18th century English actor, as Malvolio, I 776
Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO. Duke. Is this the madman? Oli. Ay, my lord, this same. How now, Malvolio ! Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Olio Have J, Malvolio? no. 555
TWELFTH NIGHT
Act V Scene I
340 from it. Differently. 347 lighier. Lesser.
351 geck and gull. Fool and dupe.
355
Ollt
of. Beyond.
358 preSllpposed. Suggested. 360 practice. Trick.
Mal. Lady,youhave. Pray you, peruse that letter. You must not now deny it is yOUl' hand: • Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase; 340 Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention: You can say none of this: well, grant it then And tell me.. in the modesty of honour, Why you nave given me such clear lights of favour, Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you, To put on yellow stockings and to frown • Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people; And, aCting this in an obedient hope, Why have you sulfer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest! 350 .And made the most notorious geck and gull That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why. Olio Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the clulracter: .But out of question 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling, .And in such forms which here were presupposed ypon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content: .This praCtice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee; ~ But when we know the grounds and authors olit, 'Inou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Of thine own cause. Fa.6. Good madam, hear me speak, And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come Taint the condition of this present hour, Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, Most freely I confess, myself and Toby Set this device against Malvolio here, • Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceived against him: Maria writ 370 .The letter at Sir Toby's great importance; In recompense whereof he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; If that the injuries be justly weigh'd That have on both sides pass'd. • Oli. Alas, poor fool, how have they lxUlled thee!
w.
j
,
< .. : .
·'~P
pFegnant: But I can tell that in each grace of these
90
Troilus: 'Hear me, my love: be thou but true of heart'. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Complete Works oj Shakspere, r857-r859
65 thrmc my glo'u. Challenge. 66 mamlalion. Stain. 81 parts. Talents. 88 lll'l:olt. A liwly dance for two people.
90 pregnant. Ready.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act IV Scene IV
134 I'll answer to my lust. I'll do as I please. 139 brave. Boast.
There lurks a still and dwnb-discoumve devil That tCm~ most CIlnningly: but be not tempteil. Cns. Do-you thiak. I will? Tro. No. But something may be done that we will not: And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our pewers, Presuming on their changeful potency~ £ne. [Witkin] Nay, good my lord,Tro. Come, kiss; and let us part. too Par. (WitlUnJ Brother Troilus! Tro. Good brother, come you hither; And bring }Eneas and the Grecian with you. Cns. My lord, will you be true? Tro. Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my fault: Whi1es others fish with craft for great opinion, I with great truth catch mere simplicity; Whilst some with cunning gild their copper crowns,
With truth and plainness I do wear mine bare. F ear not my truth: the moral of my wit Is' plain andtrue;' there's all the reach ofiL no Cressida leaves Troilus to 20 with Diomed. Woodcut by Edward Burne-Jones, from William Morris's Kelmscott Chaucer, 1896
Enter }ENEAS,
PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS,
and DIOMEDES. Welcome, Sir Diomed! here is the lady Which for Antenor we deliver you: At the port, lord, I'il give her to thy hand ; And by the way possess thee what she is. Entreat her fair; and, by my soul, fair Gree!:, If e'er thou stand at mercy of my sword.. Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe As Priam is in Ilion. Dio. Fair Lady Cressid, So please you, save the thanks this prince expects: The lustre in your eye, heaven in your cheek, 120 Pleads your fair usage; and to DioIJ).ed You shall be mistress, and command him wholly. Tyo. Grecian, thou dost not use me cour· teously, To shame the zeal of my petition to thee In praising her: I tell thee, lord of Greece, She is as far high-soaring o'er thy praises As thou unworthy to be call'd her servant. I charge thee use her well, even for my charge; For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, Though the great bulk Achilles be thy guard, 130 I'll cut thy throat. Diu. 0, be not moved, Prince Troilus: Let me be privileged by my place and message, To be a speaker free; when I am hence, • I'll answer to my lust: and know you, lord, I'il nothing do on charge: to her own worth She shall be prized; but that you say • be't so,' I'll speak it in my spirit and honour, 'no.' Tro. Come, to the port. 1'11 tell thee, Diomed, • This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy head. Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk, 1:40 To our own selves bend we our needful talk. [ExeUftt Troilus, Cressida, and Diomedes.
[Trumpet within. Par. Hark! Hector's trumpet. Aine. How have we spent this morning! The prince must think me tardy and remiss, That swore to ride before him to the field. Par. 'Tis Troilus' fault: come, come, to field with him. 608
Act IV Scene V Dei. Let us make ready straight. ,./Ene. Yea, with a bridegroom's fresh alacrity, Let us address to tend on Heelor's heels: The glory of our Troy doth this day lie 149 On his fair worth and single chivalry. [Exe1mt. SCENE
V.
TIt/! Grecian camp.
Lists set Ollt.
TROILUS Al'\ID CRESSIDA
1 appointmeilt. Equipment. 2 startin!;. Enthusiastic. 8 bias. Puffed out. 9 Aquilon. The north wind.
Ellter AJAX, armed; AG'AME!\INON, ACHILLES, PATROCLUS, MENELAUS, ULYSSES, NESTOR,
attd others. Agam. Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair, .Anticipating time with starting courage. Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, Thou dreadful Ajax; that the appalled air May pierce the head of the gre.at combatant And hale him hither. AJax. Thou, trumpet, there's my purse. N ow crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen pipe: • Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek .Outswell the colic of puff'd Aquilon: Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes spout blood; 10 Thou blow'st for Hector. [Trumpet sotmds. Ulyss. No trumpet answers. A cit-i!. 'Tis but early days. Aga",. Is not yond Diomed, with Calchas' daughter? U/.rss. 'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; He rises on the toe: that spirit of his In aspiration lifts him from the earth. •
E"ter DIOMEDES, 'lvitlt.
CRESSIDA.
Agam. Is this the Lady Cressid? Dio. Even she. Agam. Most dearly welcome to the Greeks, sweet lady. Nest. Our general doth salute you with a kiss. U lyss. Yet is the kindness but particular; 2C 'Twere better she were kiss'd in general. Nest. And very courtly counsel: I'll begin. So much for Nestor. Acltil. I'll take that winter from your lips, fair lady: . Achilles bids you welcome. Men. I had good argument for kissing once. Pair. Rut,that's no argument for kissing now; • For thus popp'u Paris in his hardiment, And parted thus you and your argument. Ulyss. 0 deadly gall, and theme of all our scorns! 30 For which we lose our heads to gild his horns. Patr. The first was Menelaus' kiss; this, mine: Patroclus kisses you. JUett. O,.this is trim! Patr. Paris and I kiss evermore for him. Men. I 'n have my kiss, sir. Lady, by your leave. Cres. In kissing, do you render or receive? • Patr. Both take and give. Cres. I 'n make my match to live. The kiss you take is better than you give; Therefore no kiss. • Men. I'll give y6u boot, I 'U give you three for one. 40
Cressida (Rosemary Harris) is introduced to the Greek commanders. Old Vic Theatre. London. 1956
28 Jwrdiml'llt. Boldness. 37 I'llllloke . .. liu. I will wager my life. 40 boot. Odds.
TROTLUS AND CRESSIDA
Act IV Scene V
45 filip. Tap.
Ulysses: 'May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you?' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere. 1846
&2 sluttish spoils of opportunity. Promiscuous women
who succumb to every opportunity.
eres. You're an odd man; give even, or give none. Men. An odd man.. lady! every man is odd. eres. No, Paris is not; for you know 'tis true, That you are odd, and he is even with you. • M e1t. You fillip me 0' the head. eres. No, I'll be sworn. Ulyss. It were no match, your nail against his hom. May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you Y eres. You may. Ulyss. I do desire it. eres. Why, beg, then. Ulyss. Why then for Venus' sake, give me a kiss, When Helen is a maid again, and his. SO eres. I am your debtor, claim it when 'tis due. Ults.r. Never's my day, and then a kiss ofyou. DUJ. Lady, a word: I'll bring you to your father. [Exit with eressida. Neet. A woman of quick sense. Ulyss. Fie, fie upon her! There"'s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks: her wanton spirits lookout At every joint and motive of her body. 0, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, That give accosting welcome ere it comes, And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts 60 To every ticklish reader! set them down .For sluttish spoils of opportunity And daughters of the game. [Trumpet within. A II. The Trojans' trumpet. Agam. Yonder comes the troop.
73 securely. Over-confidently. 87 maiden. Bloodless.
Ellter
armed; }ENEAS, TROILUS, and other Trojans, with Attendants.
HECTOR,
Hail, all you state of Greece! what shall be done To him that viCtory commands? or do you purpose A viCtor shall be known? will you the knights Shall to the edge of all extremity Pursue each other, or shall be divided By any voice or order of the field? 10 HeCtor bade ask. Agam. Which way would HeCtor have it? /E Ite. He cares not; he '11 obey condition!\. • Ackil. 'Tis done like HeCtor; but securely done, A little proudly, and great deal misprizing The knight opposed. /E'le. If not Achilles, sir, What is your name? Acldl. Ifnot Achilles, nothing. /E1te. Therefore Achilles: but, whate'er, know this: In the extremity of great and little, Valour and pride excel themselves in Hedor; The one almost as infinite as all, 80 The other blank as nothing. Weigh him well, And that which looks like pride is courte."IY. This Ajax is half made of HeCtor's blood: In love whereof, half HeCtor stays at home; Half heart, half hand, half HeCtor comes to seek This blended knight, half Trojan and half Greek. • Acldl. A maiden battle, then! O. I perceive you. ./E,lC.
610
Act IV Scene V Re-enter DIOMEDES.. AKaln. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle knight, Stand by our Ajax: as. you an~ Lord lEneas Consent upon the order of theIr fight, go So be it; either to the uttermost, .Or else a breath: the combatants being kin Half stints their strife before their strokes begin. [Ajax and Hellor enter tlu lists. Ulyu. They are opposed already. Agmn. What Trojan is that same that looks so heavy? Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a true knight. Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of word, • Speaking in deeds and deedleSs in his tongue; Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon calm'd; His heart and hand both open and both free; 100 For what he has he ¥ives, what thinks he shows; Yet gives he not till Judgement guide his bounty, N or dignifies an impair thought with breath; Manly as Hc:Ctor, but more dangerous; • For HeCtor in his blaze of wrath subscribes To tender obJeCts, but he in heat of aCtion Is more vindIcative than jealous love: They call him Troilus, and on him ereCt A second hope, as fairly built as HeCtor. Thus says lEneas; one that knows the youth 110 • Even to his inches, and with private soul Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. [Alarum. Heflorand AjaxfiKM.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
92 breath. Exercise. 98 deedless in his tongue. Modest in word.
105-106 subscribf!$ ... obiects. Has compassion for the weak.
111 with private soul. Secretly.
Hector and Ajax fight. Engraving by John Flaxman from Homer's Iliad, translated by Alexander Pope, 1793 edition
142 .Neoptolemus. Although usually applied to Achilles' son Pyrrhus, here it is probably Achilles himself. mirable. Marvellous.
Aga"". They are in action. Nest. Nqw, Ajax, hold thine own! Tro.· HeCtor, thou sleep'st; Awake thee! Agam. His blows are well disposed: there, Ajax I Dio. You must no more. [Trumpets cease. /line. Princes, enough, so please you. AJax. J am not warm yet; let us fight again. Dio. As HeCtor pleases. Hefl. Why, then will I no more: Thou art, great lord, my father's sister's son, 120 A cousin-german to great Priam's seed; The obligation of our blood forbids A gory emulation 'twixt us twain: Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so That thou couldst say 'This hand is Grecian all, And this is Trojan; the sinews of this leg All Greek, and this all Troy; my mother's blood Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister Bounds in my father's;' by Jove multipotent, Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish member 130 Wherein iny sword had not impressure made Of our rank feud: but the just gods gainsay That any drop thou borrow'dst' from thy mother, My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword Be draill'd! Let me embrace thee, Ajax: ~y him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms: HeCtor would have them fall upon him thus: Cousin,. all honour to thee ! Ajax. I thank thee, HeCtor: Thou art too gentle and too free a man:· I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence 140 A great addition earned in thy death. • Hen. Not Neoptoiemus so mirable. 6II
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act IV Scene V
143 Oyes. The cry of heralds to secure attention.
156 expecters. The waiting Trojans. 162 j)Qrtiy. Imposing. 1 &9 hollow bias-drawing. Insincere flattery.
179 quondam. Former.
Nestor: 'As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed .. .' Pegasus, the winged horse of Perseus. From a I9th century engraving
• On whose bright crest Fame with her loud'st Oyes Cries 'This is he,' could promise to himself A thought of added honour torn from He8:or• ./Ene. There is expectance here from both the sides, What further you will do. Hen. We'll answer it; The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell Alax. If I might in entreaties find successAs seld I have the chance-I would desire ISO My famous ~ousin to our Grecian tents. Dio. 'Tis Agamemnon's wish, and great Achilles Doth long to see unarm'd the valiant Hector. Hell. iEneas, call my brother Troilus to me, And signify this loving interview .To the expec'ters of our Trojan part; Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my cousin' I will go eat with thee and see your knights. A lax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet us here. Heet. The worthiest of them tell me name by name; x60 But for Achilles, mine own searching eyes • Shall find him by his large and portly size. Agam. Worthy ofarms! as welcome as to one That would be rid of such an enemy; But that's no welcome: understand more clear, What's past and what's to come is strew'd with husks And formless ruin of oblivion; But in this extant moment, faith and troth, .Strain'd purely from all hollow bias-drawing, 170 Bids thee, with most divine integrity, From heart of very heart, great Hector, welcome. Heel. I thank thee, most imperious Agamemnon. Agam. (To TroilusJ My well-famed lord of Troy, no less to you. Melt. Let me confIrm my princely brother's greeting: You brace of warlike brothers, welcome hither. Heel. Who must we answer? ./Ene. The noble M~nelaus. Heel. 0, you, my lord? by Mars his gauntlet, thanks! Mock not, that I affeCt the untraded oath; • Your quondam wife swears still by Venus' glove: She's well, blolt bade me not commend her to you. M en. Name her not now, sir; she's a deadly them~
Heel.
0, pardon; I offend.
dx
Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft Labouring for destiny make cruel way Through ranks of Greekish youth, and I have seen thee, As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, Despising many forfeits and subduements, When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air, Not letting it decline on the declined, That I have said to some my standers by X90 'Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life!' And I have seen thee pause and take thy breath, When that a ring of Greeks have hemm'd thee in, Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I seen; But this thy countenance, still lock'd in steel, 612
Act IV Scene V
·1 never saw till now.
1 knew thy grandsire., And once fought with him: he was a soldier good; But, by great Mars, the captain of us all, N ever like thee. Let an old man embrace thee; And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. 200 ...£1le. 'Tis the old Nestor. HeCl. Let me embrace thee, good old chronicle, That hast so long walk'd hand in hand with time: Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp thee. Nest. I would my arms could match thee in contention, As they contend with thee in courtesy. HeEt. I would they could . •l\lest. Ha ! By this white beard, I'ld fight with thee tomorrow. 209 Well, welcome, welcome !-I have seen the time. Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city stands \Vhen we have here her base and pillar by us. • Hea. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, well. Ah, sir, there's many a Greek and Trojan dead, Since first I saw yourself and Diomed III Ilion, on your Greekish embassy. Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what would ensue: My prophecy is but half his journey yet; For yonder walls, that pertly front your town, Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the clouds, 220 Must kiss their own feet. Hea. 1 must not believe you: There they stand yet, and modestly J think, The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost A drop of Grecian blood: the end crowns all, And that old common arbitrator, Time, Will one day end it. Ulyss. So to him we leave it. Most gentle and most valiant HeCtor, welcome: Mter the general, I beseech you next To feast with me and see me at my tent. Achil. I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, thou! 230 N ow, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee; I have with exact view perused thee, Hector, .And quoted joint by joint. Hea. Is this Achilles? A chil. I am Achilles. Hea. Stand fair, I pray thee: let me look on thee. Achil. Behold thy fill. Hea. Nay, I have done already. Aclzil. Thou art too bl'ief: I will the second time, As I would buy thee, view thee limb by limb. Hea. 0, like a book of sport thou'lt read me o'er; 239 But there's more in me than thou understand'st. Why dost thou so oppress me with thine eye? Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which part of his body Shall I destroy him? whether there, or there, or there? That I may give the local wound a name And make distinct the very breach whereout Hector's great spirit flew: answer me, heavens! Hea. It would discredit the blest gods, proud man, To answer such a question: stand again:
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
196 grandsire. Laomedon. 213 fa'vow. Face. 233 quoted. Scrutinized,
613
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act V Scene I
Costume design for Achilles by Malcolm Pride, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1954
255 stithied. Forged. 267 pelting. Paltry. 269 fell. Fierce.
272 convive. Feast.
Think'st thou to catch my life so pleasantly As to prenomillate in nice conjecture 2.50 \Vhere thou wilt hit me dead ~ Aclu'l. I tell thee, yea. Hen. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, I'ld not believe thee:. Henceforth guard thee well; For I'll not kill thee there, nor there, nor there; .But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, 1'11 kill thee every where, yea, o'er and o'er. You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag; His insolence draws folly from my lips; But I 'U endeavour deeds to match these words, Or may I neverAjax. Do not chafe thee, cousin: 260 And you, Achilles, let these threats alone, Till accident or purpose bring you to't: You may have every day enough of Hector, If you have stomach; the general state, I fear, Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. H ea. I pray you, let us see you in the field: • \Ve have had pelting wars, since you refused The Grecians' cause. Acldl. Dost thou entreat me, Hector? .To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; To-night all friends. Hen. Thy hand upon that match. 270 Agallt. First, all you peers of Greece, go to my tent; • There in the full cQnvive we: afterwards, As Heetor's leisure and your bounties shall Concur together, severally entreat him. Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets blow, That this great soldier may his welcome know. [Ext?1mt all except Troilus ami Ulysses. Tro. 1t:y Lord Ulysses, tell me, I beseech you, In what place of the field doth Calchas keep? Ulyss. At Menelaus' tent,most princely Troilus: There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; 280 \Vno neither looks upon the heaven nor earth, But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view On the fair Cressid. Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you so much, After we part from Agamemnon's tent, To bring me thither? Ulyss. You shall command me, sir. As gentle tell me, of what honour was This Cressida in Troy? Had she no lover there That wails her absence? Tro. 0, sir, to such as boasting show their scars 290 A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord? She was beloved, she loved; she is, and doth: But still sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCE!'<E
I. Th.e Grecia1l camp. -tent.
Before Achilles'
Enter ACHILLES and P .... TROCLUS. Acltil. I'll heat his blood with Greekish wine to-night, Which with my scimitar I'll cool to-morrow. Patroclus, let us feast him to the height.
Act V Scene I Patr.
Here comes Thersites.
Enter THERSITES. Addl. How now, thou core of envy! Thou crusty batch ()f nature, what's the news? Ther. Why, thou piCture of what thou seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, here's a letter for thee. Achil. From whence, fragment? Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from Troy. II Patr. Who keeps the tent now? • Ther. The surgeon's box, or the patient's wound. Patr. Well said, adversity! and what need the~ tricks? Titer. Prithee, be silent, boy; I profit not by thy talk: thou art thought to be Achilles' male varlet. Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what's that? Ther. Why, his mascl.iine whore. Now, the rotten disea>;es of the south, the guts-griping, • ruptures, catarrhs, loads 0' gravel i' the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, dirt-rotten • livers, wheezing lungs, bladders full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i' the palm, incurable • bone-ache, and the rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and take again such preposterous discoveries! Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, thou, what meanest thou to curse thus? 30 Ther. Do I cur:;e thee? • Patr. \Vhy, no, you ruinous butt, you whoreson indistinguishable cur, no. Ther. No! why art thou then exasperate, .thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, thou tassel of a prodigal's purse, thou ?Ah, how the poor world is pestered with such waterflies, diminutives of nature! Patr. Out, gall! Titer. Finch-egg! Achil My sweet Patroc1us, I am thwarted quite From my great p:urpose in to-morrow's battle. Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, A token from her daughter, my fair love, Both taxing me and gaging me to keep An oath that I ha\-e sworn. I will not break it: Fall Greeks; fail fame; honour or go or stay; My major vow lies here, this I'll obey. Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent: 50 This night in banqueting must all be spent. Away, Patroclus! [Exeunt Achilles ami Patroclus. Ther. \Vith too much blood and too little brain, these two may run mad; but. if with too much brain and too little blood they do, I'll be a curer of madmen. Here's Agamenmon, an honest .fellow enough, and one that loves quails; but he has not so much brain as ear-wax: and the goodly transformation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull,-the primitive statue, and oblique memorial of cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-hom in a chain, hanging at his brother's leg,-to Wh'l.t form but that he is, should wit larded with malice and malice forced with wit tum him to? To an ass, were nothing; he is both ass and ox: to an ox, were nothing; he is both ox and ass. To be • a dog, a mule, a cat, a fitchew, a toad, a lizard,
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
1Z Tlw surgeon's . .. wound. Thersites qU1bbles on 'tent' meaning a probe for a wound.
ZZ gravel i' the back. Stones in the kidney.
24-25 imposthume. Abscess. limekilns. Burnings. 26-27 ri'L'el.led . .. tetter. Wrinkled, chronic state of skin eruption.
32 ruinous butt. Ruined cask. 35 sle(l've-silk. Floss silk.
36 sarcenet. Silk.
57 quails. Harlots. &7 fitcheu'. Fitch or polecat.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act V Scene II
68 puttock. Kite.
82 draught. Cesspool. 102 ieo't'e to see. !'\ot see.
.an owl, a puttock, or a herring without a roe, I would not care; but to be Menelaus! I ~ould conspire against destiny. Ask me not what I would be, if I were not Thersites; for I care not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not IVlenelaus. Hoy-day! spirits and fires!
Enter HECTOR,
THOlLUS, AJAX. AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, l\IEXELAt·S, and DIOl\lEDES, with lig-hts.
Agalll. \Ve go wrong, we go wrong. Ajax. No, yonder 'tis; There, where we see the lights. Hee? I trouble you. Ajax. No, not a whit. Ulyss. Here comes himself to guide you.
Elspeth Keith as Thersites, Elizabethan Stage Society, London, 1912-1913
Re-enter ACHILLES. A chilo WeIcome, brave Hector; welcome, princes all. Agam. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid good night. Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. H ee? Thanks and good night to the Greeks' general. 80 Men. Good night, my lord. Hee? Good night, sweet Lord Menelaus. • Ther. Sweet draught: 'sweet' quoth 'a! sweet sink, sweet sewer. Achil. Good night and welcome, both at once, to those That go or tarry. Agalll. Good night. [Exnmt Agamemnon and Jlfemdaus. A chilo Old Nestor tarries; and you too, Diomed, Keep Heetor company an hour or two. Dio. I cannot, lord; I have important business, The tide whereof is now. Good night, great Hector. go Ha7. Give me your hand. Ulyss. [Aside to Troilus) Follow his torch; he goes to Calchas' tent: I'll keep you cotnpal1Y. Tyo. Sweet sir, you honour me. H ee? And so, good night. [Exit Diomedes: Ulysses lUul Troilus flllO'lvilll[. Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. [Exeullt Achilles, HeElor, Ajax, alld Nutor. Tlh'r. That same Diomed's a false-hearted rogne, a most unjust knave; r will no more trust him when he leers than I will a serpent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, like Brabbler the hound; but when he performs, astronomers foretell it; it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun borrows of the moon, when Diomed keeps his word. I will .rather leave to see Heetor, than not to dog him: they say he keeps a Trojan drab, and uses the traitor Calchas' tent: I'II after. Nothing but lechery 1 all incontinent varlets! [Exit. SCENE
II.
The same.
Bifore Calchas' teltt.
Ellter DIOMEDES.
Dio. What, are you up here, ho? speak. Cal. [ With,n] Who calls?
6r6
Act V Scene II
Dio. Diomed.
Calchas, I think. Where's your daughter? Cal. [Withm] She comes to you.
Enter
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
11 cliff. Clef, a musical symbol with a play on 'cleft', the crotch of the body. noted. Notorious, and a pun on music which has been set down.
and ULYSSES, at a distance; after them, THERSITES. Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not discover us. TROILUS
Enter CRESSlDA. Tro. Cressid comes forth to him. Dio. How now, my charge ! Cres. Now, my sweet guardian! Hark, a [Whispers. word with you. Tro. Yea, so familiar! Ulyss. She will sing any man at first sight. Ther. And any man may sing her, if he can • take her cliff; she's noted. II Dio. Will you remember? Cres. Remember! yes. Dio. Nay, but do, then: And let your mind be coupled with your words. Tro. What should she remember? Ul;Iss. List. Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly. Titer. Roguery! Dio.. Nay, then,20 Cres. I'll tell you what,Dio. F oh, foh! come, tell a pin: you are forsworn. Cres. In faith, I cannot: what would you have me do? Titer. A juggling trick,-to be secretly open. Dio. What did you swear you would bestow on me? Cres. I prithee, do not hold me to mine oath; Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek. Dio. Good night. Tro. Hold, patience! Ulyss. How now, Trojan! 30 Cres. Diomed,DiD. No, no, good night: I '11 be your fool no more. Tro. Thy better must. Cres. Hark, one word in your ear. Tro. 0 plague and madness ! Ulyss. You are moved, prince; let us depart, I pray you, Lest your dLospleasure should enlarge itself To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous; The time right deadly; I beseech you, go. Tro. Behold, I pray you! Ulyu. Nay, good my lord, go off: You flow to great distrattion; come, my lord. 41 Tro. I pray thee, stay. Ulyss. You have not patience; come. Tro. I pray you. stay; by hell and all hell's torments, I will not speak a word ! Dio. And so, good night. Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. Tro. Doth that grieve thee? o wither'd truth I WhY. how now, lord I Ulyss. Tro. By Jove. I will be patient. Cres. Guardian !'-why, Greek! Dio. Foh, foh! adieu; you palter.
Cressida: 'Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no more to folly . . .' Engraving from a painting by Angelica Kauffman (1741-1807)
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act V Scene II
55 Luxury. Lechery. 5& potato. The sweet potato was believed to sexually
excite.
Cres.
In faith, I do not: come hither once again. Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at something: will you go! 50 You will break out. Trn. She strokes his cheek! Ulyu. Come, come. Trn. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not speak. a word: There is between my will and all offences A guard of patience: star a little while. • Titer. How the devi Luxury, with his fat • rump and potato-finger, tickles these together! Fry, lechery, fry! Dio. But will you, then? Cres. In faith, I will, 1a; never trust me else. Din. Give me some token for the surety of it. 60 Cre:;. I'll fetch you one. [Exit. Ulyss. You have sworn patience. Trn. Fear me not, sweet lord: I will not be myself, nor have cognition Of what r feel: I am all patience.
Re-enter CRESS IDA. Ther. Cres. Trn. Ulyss. Tro. Cres.
Now the pledge: now, now, now! Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. 0 beauty! where is thy faith? My lord,I will be patient: outwardly I will. You look upon that sleeve; behold it
well. He loved me-O false wench !-Give't me again. Din. Whose was't? 71 Cres. It is no matter, now I have't again. I will not meet with you to-morrow night: I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. TIt.er. N ow she sharpens: well said, whetstone! Din. I shall have it. Cres. What, this? Din. Ay, that. Cres. 0, an you gods! pretty, pretty pledge! Thy master now lies thinking in his bed Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove, And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, 80 As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me; He that takes that doth take my heart withal. Din. I had your heart before, this follows it. Tro. I did swear patience. Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; faith, you shall not; I'll gIve rou something else. D'-n. will have this: whose was it? Cres. It is no matter. Din. Come, tell me whose it was. Cres. 'Twas one's that loved me better than yon will. But, now you have it, take it. Dio. Whose was it? go • eres. By all Diana's waiting-women yond, And by herself, I wllI Dot tell you whose. Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my helm, And grieve his spirit that dares not challenge it. Tro. Wert thou the devil, and worest it on thy horn, It should be challenged. Cns. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis past: and yet it is not;
°
Cressida: 'Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve .. .' Engraving from Bell's Works . .. 1773-74
91 Diana's waiting-women. The stars.
618
Act V Scene II
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
I will not keep my word. Du,. Why, then, farewell; Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. Cres. You shall not go lone cannot speak a Joo word, But it.straight starts you. ... DiD. I do not like thlS fool~ng. Titer. NOlI, by Pluto: but that that likes not you pleases file best. Dio. What, shall I come? the hour? Cres. Ay, come:-O Jove!-do come:-I shall be plagued. Dio. Farewell till then. Cres. Good night: I prithee, come.
[Exit Diomeths.
Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee; But with my heart the other eye doth see. Ah, poor our sex! this fault in us I find, • The error of our e~'e dire& our mind: J IC What error leads must err; 0, then conclude Minds sway'd by eyes are full of turpitude. [Exit. Ther. A proof of strength she could not publish more, Unless she said' My mind is now turn'd whore.' Ulyss. AU's done. my lord. Tro. It is. Ulyss. Why stay we, then? Tro. To make a recordation to my !IOul Of every syllable that here was spoke. But if I tell how these two did co-act, Shall I not lie in publishing a truth? Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, 120 An esperance so obstinately strong, . • That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears, As if those organs had deceptious functions, Created only to calumniate. .. Was Cressid here? Ulyss. I cannot conjure, Trojan. Tro. She was not, sure. Ulyss. Most sure she was. Tro. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness. Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord: Cressid was here but now. Tro. Let it not be believed for womanhood! Think, we had mothers;' do not give advantage To stubborn critics, apt, without a theme, I3I • For depravation, to square the general sex By Cressid's rule: rather think this not Cressid. Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that can soil our mothers ? Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were she. • Titer. 'Vill he swagger himself out on's own eyes? Tro. This she? no, this is Diomed's Cressida: If beauty have a soul, this is not she; I f souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies, If sanctimony be the gods' delight. 140 .If there be rule in unity itself, • This is not she. 0 madness of discourse, That cau...e sets up with and against itself! • Bi-fold authority! where reason can revolt Without perdition, and loss assume all reason Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid. Within my soul there doth conduce a fight Of this strange nature that a thing inseparate Divides more wider than the sky and earth, And yet the spacious breadth of this division ISO Admits no orifcx for a point as subtle
Diomed: "Vhat, shall I come? the hour ?' Woodcut by Ed,vard Burne-Jones from William Morris's Kelmscott Chaucer. 1896
110-112 The error . .. turptitude. See introduction. 122 That doth . .. ears. See introduction. 125 conjure. i.e. conjure up spirits. 132 to squm·e. To measure. 136 T'Vm he ... eyes? Will he convince himself out of the e\"idence of his 0\\11 eyes?
141 rule in IImty. The principle that an individual is indh·isible .
142 discourse. Reason. 144 Bi-fold authority. The double authority of reason. 144-14& whe1'e reason . .. ,·evolt. Where reason can rebel against the evidence without unreason (madness), while lack of trust in the evidence of the senses assumes itself to be reasonable (cf. Shakespeare on his Dark Lady in the Sonnets).
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act V Scene III
152 Ariachne's . . . woof. The thread of a spider. Arachne was a weaver whom the jealous Athene turned into a spider.
153 Instance. Proof.
158
OTt••
Left-overs.
161 half attach'd. Half as much affected.
170 casque. Helmet. 173 Constringed. Compressed together. 185 Have with you. I am ready to go.
°
.As Ariachne's broken woof to enter. • Instance, instance! strong as Pluto's gates; Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of heaven: Instance, 0 instance! strong as heaven itself; The bonds of heaven are slipp'd, dissolved, and loosed; And with another knot, five-finger-tied, .The fractions of her faith, oJ1:s of her love, The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy relics Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomed. :166 • Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd With that which here his passion doth express? Tro. Ay, Greek; and that shall be divulged well In charatl:ers as red as Mars his heart Inflamed with Venus: never did young man fancy With so eternal and so fix'd a souL Hark, Greek: as much as I do Cressid love, So much by weiJht hate I her Diomed: That sleeve is mme that he'll bear on his helm; .Were it a ca.sque composed by Vulcan's skill, :170 My sword should bite it: not the dreadful spout Which shipmen do the hurnca.no call; • Constringed in mass by the almighty sun, Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune's ear In his descent than shall my prompted sword Falling on Diomed. Titer. He'll tickle it for his concupy. Tro. Cressid! 0 false Cressid! false, false, false! Let all untruths standby thy stained name, And they '11 seem glorious. Ulyss. 0, contain yourself; 180 Your passion draws ears hither.
°
Andromache: 'My dreams ~-ill, sure, prove ominous ... ' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846
Enter }ENEAS• .dine. I have been seeking you this hour, my lord: Hedor, by this, is arming him in Troy; Ajax, your guard, stays to condutl: you home. • Tro. Have-with you, prince. My courteous lord, adieu. . Farewell, revolted fair! and, Diomed, Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head! Ulyss. I'll bring you to the gates. Tro. Accept distraCted thanks. (Exeunt Troilus, .dineas, and Ulysses. Ther. Would I could meet that rogue Diomed ! I would croak like a raven; I would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will give me any thing for the intelligence of this whore: the parrot will not do more for an almond than he for a commodious drab. Lechery, lechery; still, wars and lechery; nothing else holds fashion: a burning devil take them! LExit. ScENE
III.
Enter
Troy. BiforePriam'spalace. HECTOR
and ANDROMACHE.
And. When was my lord so much ungently temper'd, To stop his ears against admonishment! Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. HeEl. You train me to offend you; get you in ~ By all the everlasting gods, I '11 go ! And. My dreams will, sure, prove ominous to the day. HeCl. No more, I say. 620
Act V Scene III
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Enter CAssANDRA. Cas.
Where is my brother Hector! Here, sister; arm'd, and bloody in intent. Consort with me in loud and dear petition, Pursue we him on knees; for I have dream'd 10 Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night Hath nothing been but shapes and formS' of slaughter. Cas. 0, 'tis true. Hen. Ho! bid my trumpet sound. Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, sweet brother. HeEl. Be gone, I say: the gods have heard me sweat. Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and peevish vows: They are polluted offerings, more abhorr'd Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. ANd. 0, be persuaded! do not count it holy To hurt by being just: it iSa5 lawful, 20 For we would give much, to use violent thefts, And rob in the behalf of charity. Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong the ANd.
vow;
But vows to every purpose must not hold: Unarm, sweet He¢tor. Hen. Hold you still, I say: • Mine honour keeps the weathe); of my fale: Life every man holds dear; but the brave man Holds honour far more precious-dear than life.
Enter TROILUS. How now, young man! mean'st thou to fight today? .A tul. Cassandra, call my father to persuade. 30 (Exit Cassandra. HeEl. No, faith, young Troilus; dotrthy harness, youth; I am to-day i' the vein of chivalry : Let grow thy sinews till their knots be strong, And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. Unarm thee, go, and doubt thou not, brave boy, 1'11 stand to-day for thee and me and Troy. Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy in you, Whieh better fits a lion than a man. Hen. What vice is that, good TroHus! chide me for it. T1'(J. When many times the captive Grecian falls, 40 Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword. Yon bid them rise, and live. Hen. 0, 'tis fair play. Tro. Fool's play, by heaven, HeCtor. HeEl. How now I how now! Tro. For the love of all the gods, Let's leave the hermit pity with our mothers, And when we have our armours buckled on, The venom'd vengeance ride upon our swords, .Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth. Hen. Fie, savage, fie! Tro. Hector, then 'tis wars. Heit. Tronus, I would not have you fight 50 to-day. T1'O. Who should withhold me? Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire;
Hector and Andromache. Engraving by John Flaxman from the 1793 edition of Alexander Pope's translation of Homer's Iliad
%6 u'eather. The windward, and therefore the safe side.
48 ruth. Pity.
TROILUS
A~D
CRESSIDA
Act V Scene III
86 antics. Clowns.
101 tisick. Cough.
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, Their eyes o'ergalled with recourse of te.ars; N or you, my brother, with your true sword drawn, OpPosed to hinder me, sbouldstop my way, . But by my ruin.
R e-",tw CASSANDRA, with. PRIAM. Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold him last : He is thy crutch; now if thou lose thy stay, 60 Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, Fall all together. Pri. Come, HeCtor, come, go back : Thy wife hath dream'd; thy mother hath had visions; . Cassandra doth foresee; and I myself Am like a. prophet suddenly enrapt To tell thee tnat this day is ominous: Therefore, come back. HeEl. ./Eneas is a-field; And I do stand engaged ·to many Greeks. Even in the faith of valour, to appear Thili morning to them. Pri. Ay, but thou shalt not go. Hen. I must not break my faith. 71 You know me dutiful: therefore, dear sir. Let me not shame respea; but give me leave To take that course by your consent and voice. Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. Cas. 0 Priam, yield not to him ! A nd. Do not, dear father. HeEl. Andromache. I am offended with you: Upon the love y.ou bear me, get you in. (Exit A"tinnnacM.
Tro. This fooli.sh, dreaming. superstitious girl Makes all these bodements. Cas. 0, farewell, dear Hed:or I Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye turns pale! 81 Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents ! Hark, how Troy roars ! how Hecuba Cries out! How poor Andromache shrills her dolours forth! Behold, distraCtion, frenzy and amazement, • Like witless antics, one another meet, And all cry, Heaor! HeCtor's dead! 0 Hf:aor! TrtI. A way! away! Cas. Farewell:· yet, soft! Hedor, I take my leave: Thou dost thyself and allourTroy deceive. [Exit. HeEl. You are. amazed, my liege, at her. ex.. claim: 91 Go in and cheer the town: we 'II forth and fight, Do dc;eds worth praise and tell y?U them at night. P,..,. Farewell: the gods Wlth safety stand about thee! (Exe'NMi ~nJ1 P1"ja1ll aad Henor. A 1,,""1118. Tro. They are at it, hark! Proud Diomed. believe, I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve.
E#ltw
Opposite .. Cassandra: 'Look, how thou diest I look, how thy eye turns pale! Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many vents!' Painting of Cassandra by George Romney (1734-1802) 622
PANDARUS.
Do you hear, my 10l'd1 do you hear! Tro. What now? PIlIR. Here's a lettercome from yond poor girl. Tro. Let me read.. 100 • Pan. A whoreson tisick, a whMesonrascally tisiclc &0 troubles me, and the foolish fortune ·of this girl; aT'd what one thing, what another, that I shall leave you one 0' these days: and I haVe a rheum in mine eyes too, and such an ache in mv Pan.
Act V Scene III
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA
Act V Scenes IV & V
1 clapper-clawing. Mauling.
bones that, unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell what to think on't. What says she there? Tro. Words, words, mere 'words, no. matter from the heart; The effe8: doth operate another way. 109 [Tearing the letter. Go, wind, to wind, thereturnandchangetogetber· My love with words and errors still she feeds; But edifies another with her deeds. [Exeunt SlWrtllly.
9 sleeveless. Useless.
18 to proclaim barbaTism. To say that the spheres of authority which denote the civilized state are in chaos.
ScENE
IV. PlaUuDetween Tro),andtIt.eGncia.n camp.
Alarums: excursions. Enter THERSITES. Tlur. Now they are clapper-clawing one another: 1'11 go look on. That dissembling abominable varlet,. Diomed, bas got that same scurvy doting foolish young knave's sleeve of Troy there in his helm: r. would. fain see them meet; that that ~e young Trojan ass, that loves the whore there, might send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, with the sleeve, back to the dis• sembUn~ luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. 0' the t other side, the policy of those crafty swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten dry cheese, Nestor, aDd that same dog:-fox, Ulysses, is not pro~ worth a blackberry: they set me up, in policy, that mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as bad a kind, Achilles: and now is the cur Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will not arm to-day; whereupon the Grecians begin • to proclaim barbarism, and policy grows into an ill opinion. Soft! here comes sleeve, andt'other.
•
Warriors prepare for battle. Nineteenth century engraving from a 5th century B.C. painting on a drinking cup
Enter DIOMEDES, TROILusfolltI'Wing. Trl1. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx, 20 I would swim after. Dio. Thou clost tID5call retire: I do not fiy, but advantageous care Withdrew m.e from the odds of multitude: Have at thee ! Tlur. Hold thy whore, Grecian !--no.w for thy whore, Trojan !-nowthe sleeve, now the sleeve! [Exnmt Troilta and Dimudes,figlt.ting.
Enter HECTOR. Hell. What art thou, Greek! art thou for Hedor's match? Art thou of blood and honour? TIte,.; No, no, I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave; a very filthy rogue. 31 Hen. I do beli~ thee: live. [Exit. Tit", God-a-mercy, that thou wHt believe me; but a plague break thy neck for frighting me! What's become of the wenching rogueS? I think they have swallowed one another: I would laugh at that miracle: yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself: I'll seek them. {Exit. SCENE
V.
Anutlter jari of tlu plains.
E nlttr DIOMEDES and a Servant. Dio. Go, go, my scrYan4 take thou Tronus' horse; Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid: Fellow, commend my service to her bea.uty;
Act V Scene VI Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan, And am her knlght by proof. Seru. I go, my lord. [Exit. Enter AGAMEMNON. Aga-m. Renew, renew! The fierce Polydamas Hath beat doW'\ Menon: bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner, .And stands.colossus-wise, waving his beam, Upon the pashed corses of the kings YO Epistrophusand Cedius: Polyxenes is slain, Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt, Patroclus ta'en or slain, and Palamedes • Sore hurt and bruised: the dreadful Sagittary Appals our numbers: haste we, Diomed, To reinforcement, or we perish all.
Enter NESTOR. .Nest. Go, bear Patroclus' body to Achilles ; And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame. There is a thousand Hectors in the field: N ow here he fights on Galathe his horse, 20 And there lacks work; anon he's there afoot, • And there they fly or dIe, like scaled sculls Before the belching whale; then is he yonder, And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge, Fall down before him, like the mower's swath: Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes, Dexterity so obeying appetite That what he wiII he does, and does SO much That proof is calrd impossibility. Enter ULYSSES. Ulyss. 0, courage, courage. princes! great Achilles 30 Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance: Patroclus' W{)unds have roused his drowsy blood, Together with his mangled Myrmidons, That nose less, handless, back'd and chipp'd, come to him, Crying: on Hedor. Ajax hath lost a friend And foams at mouth, and he is arm'd and at it, Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day Mad and fantastic execution, Engaging and redeeming of himself With such a careless force and forceless care 40 As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, Bade him win all.
TROILUS A::\,D CRESSIDA
The battle o"er the body of Patroclus, Kineteenth century engraving from a classiC'dl Greek vase painting
9 beam. Lance . 14 SagittalY. A centaur who helped the Trojans with his superb archery.
22 sCillis. Early form of the word 'school'. i.e. of fish .
Troilus (Denholm Elliot) and Ajax (Paul Hardwick) fight. Stratford-upon-A"on, H)60
Enter AJAX. Aja-x. TroUus! thou coward Troilus! [Exit. Ay, there. there. Dio. Nest. So, so, we draw together. Enter ACHILLES. Acldl. Where is this HeRor7 Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face; Know what it is to meet Achilles angry: Hec1:or! where's HeCtor? I will none but Hedor. [Exettnt. SCENE
VI. A1totlter jart oftlteplains.
Enter AJAX. Aja..x. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head! Enter DIOMEDES. Dio. Troilus, I say! where'! Troilus? Ajax. What wouldst thou? 625
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
Act V Scene VII
, 1 cogging. Cheating.
Dio. I would correCt him.. A/ax. Were I the· general, thou shouldst have my office Ere thatcorredion. TroUus, I say! what, Troilus !
29 frush. Smash.
Enter TRolLus. Tro. 0 traitor Diomed t tum thy false face, thou traitor, And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse I Dio. Ha, art thou there? J'iJu. I'll figbtwithhimalone: stand. Diomed. Dio. He is my prize; J:will not look upon. IO • Tro. Come, both you cogging Greeks; have at you both! (Exevflt,firldinc. Enter HECTOR. H ell. Yea, Troilus 1 0, well fought, my youngest brother!
Achilles takes to the field. Nineteenth century engraving from a classical Greek vase painting 5 Empale him. Surround him.
Enter ACHILLES. Acltil Now do I see thee, hal have at thee, HeCtor! HeEl. Pause, if thou wilt. A chilo I do disdain thy courtesY proud Trojan: Be happy that my amtS are out 0 l use! My rest and negligence befriends thee now, But thou anon shalt hear of me again; Till when, go seek thy fortune. [Exit. HeEl. Fare thee well: I would have been much more a fresher man, 20 Had I expeCted thee. How now, my brother!
9-12 The cuckold . .. hoI Thersites uses the language of bear-baiting.
Be-enter TROlL.US. Tro. Ajax hath ta' en lEneas: shall it be 1 No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him: I '11 be ta'en too, Or bring him off; fate, hear me what I say! I recit not though I end my life to-day. [Exit. Enter one in sumptuous armour. HeEl. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark: No? wilt tliou not? I like thy armour well; • I '11 frush it and unlock the rivets all, But 1'11 be master of it: wilt thou not, beast, abide? Why, then fly on, 1'11 hunt thee for thy hide. 31 [Exeunt.
VII. A notker part of the ;lains. Enter ACHILLES, witlt. Myrmidons. Ackil. Come here about me, you my MyrSCENE
midons; Mark wltat I say. Attend me where I wheel: Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath: And when I have the bloody He&r found, .Empale him with your weapons round about; In fellest manner execute your aims. Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye: It is decreed HeCtor the great must die. [EXeuNt. Enter MENELAUS altdPARIs,figkting: then THERSITES.
•
Tiur. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, '100 ! now my double-henned sparrow! '100, Paris, '100 ! The bull has the game: ware horns, ho! [Exmnt Paris and Menelaus.
Act V Scenes VIII & IX Enter
MARGARELON.
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
7 vail. Setting.
Mar.
Tum, slave, and fight. Tlur. What art thou? Mar A bastard son of Priam's. Ther. I am a bastard too; I love baJitards: I am a bastard be¥ot, bastard instruCted, bastard in mind, bastard In valour, in every thing illegitimate. One bear will not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard? Take heed, the quarrel's most ominous to us: if the son of a whore 'fight for a whore, he tempts judgement: farewell, bastard. [Exit. Mar. The devil take thee, coward I [Ex#. SCENE
VI I J.
A notAer jart of the plalns. Entltr HECTOR.
HeCl. Most putrefied core, so tair without, Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.. Now is Illy day's work done; I'll take good breath: Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death.
[Puts off IUs helmet and ltangs his shield lMhindlUm.
Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons. Acldl. Look, HeCl:or, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: • Even with the vail and darking of the sun, To close the day up, HeCtor's life is done. Hen. I am unarm'd; forego this vantage, Greek. Achil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. [Henor falls. 10 So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down! Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. On, Myrmidons, and cry you all amain, , Achilles hath the mighty HeCtor slain.' [A retreat sounded.
Hark! .a retire upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth, .And, stickler-like, the armies separates. My half-supp'd sword, that frankly would have fed, Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed. 20 [Sheathes his swtJrd. Come, tie his body to my horse's tail ; Along the field I will the Trojan trail [Exlt",t. SCENE IX. A"ot/ur part of the plains. Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAx, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOl'tlEDES, and otAers, -marching. Shouts witkin, Aram. Hark! hark! what shout is that' Nest. Peace, drums! [Within] Achilles! Achilles! HeCl:or's slain!
•
.Achilles! The bruit is, HeCl:or's slain, and by Achilles. Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be; Great HeCl:or was a m.an as good as he. Aga1n. March patiently along: let one be sent To pray Achilles see us at our tent.
Dio.
Achilles slays Hector. Nineteenth century engraving from a Greek vase painting of the 6th century B.C.
18 stickler-like. Like an umpire of a duel.
4 bruit. Noise.
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
Act V Scene X If in his death the gods have us befriended, 9 Great Troy is ours. and our sharp wars are ended.
[Exeunt, marclUng.
ScENE
X. Anotlter part of tke plains.
Enter JENEAS a1ldTrojans. .AIlte. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: Never gO'home: here starve we out the night. Achilles drags the body of Hector around the walls of Troy. Engraving by John Flaxman from Homer's Iliad, translated by Alexander Pope, 1793 edition
13-14 But dare . .. dangers in. Face any immediate danger that men or gods prepare.
19 Niobe•. Niobe, weeping for her dead children, was turned to stone, but still continued to weep.
Niobe. From a 19th century engraving 25 Titan. Hyperion, the sun-god.
46-47 painted cloths. Rooms were hung with cloths painted with figures and symbols.
Enter TROILUS. Tm HeCtor is slain. A II. Heder! the gods forbid f Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's tail, In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful field. Frown on, you heavens, effed your rage with speed! Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy! I say, at once let your brief p~es be mercy, And linger not our sure destruchons on ! 9 ..Ene. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Tro. You understand me not that tell me so: I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death, • But dare aU imminence that gods and men Address their dangers in. He&r is gone: Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba 1 Let him that will a screech-owl aye be calPd, Go in to Troy, and say there, Hedor's dead: There is a word will ~riam turn to stone; • Make wells and Niohes of the maids and wives, Cold s.tatues of the youth, and, in a word, 20 Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away: HeCtor is d01Cl; there is no more to say. Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains, • Let Titan rise as early as he dare. I'll through and through you! and, thou greatsized coward, No space of earth shall sunder our two hates: I'll haunt thee like a wicked conlOcience still, That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thoughts. Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go: 30 Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. [Exeunt ,Jim/as aIm Troiflns. As T ROILUS is goillg out, enter,/rom tke otker side, PANDARU5. Pan. But hear you, hear you ! Tro. Hence, broker-lackey! ignomyand shame Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name ! (Exit. Pan. A goodly medicine for my aching boDes! o world! world I world! thus is the poor agent despis~ ! 0 traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill requited I why should our e.ndeavour be so loved and the performance so loathed? what verse for it? what instance for it? Let me see! 41 Fun merrily the humble-bee doth ~ng, Till he hath lost his honer and his sting; And being once sub4ued In armed tail, Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. • Good traders in the flesh, set this in your painted cloths. As many as be here of pandatshall,
Act V Scene X Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar's fall; Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans; SO Though not for me, yet for your aching bones. • Brethren and sisters of the bold-door u-ade, Some. two months hence my will shall here be made: It should be now, but that my fear is this, • Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss: Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases, And at that time bequeathe you my diseases. [Exit.
TROILUS AND CRESS IDA
52 hold-door trade. Pandering. 55 galled goose of Winchester. A prostitute affected with venereal disease. The brothels of Southwark were located on land beloniPng to the see of Winchester.
All's Well That Ends Well
IT IS USUAL to refer to All's Well and Measure for Measure, which go together, as problem plays; they are certainly not comedies in the usual sense of the tenn, except that at the end all's well and they have happy endings. They are both very serious plays: Measurefor Measure has much that is tragic; All's Well has never been thought of as an attractive play, but its intellectual interest is immense. The subject did not fire Shakespeare's imagination, as .l'vfeasure for Measure did, it gives the impression of being thought out, rather than felt along the heart and nerves. Perhaps it was experimental, and he was at a loss for something new, perhaps he was tired, as he well might be. He was getting older, a conflict between the older and younger generation is one theme. The verse is bare, uninspired, sometimes congested with thought. It looks as if he were filling in, as a writer does, by drawing on what he had known personally: it adds intensely to the interest of the work and its significance for the author.
The Story. He drew on a familiar story that goes back to Boccaccio, then changed details, as usual, to make a play out of it, and filled it out with his own inventionsparticularly the character of Parolles, the braggadocio soldier, whom Charles I thought the most striking. Shaw considered the Countess's 'the most beautiful old woman's part ever written', and certainly the women win all round; the men show up very poorly, except for the ailing King of France, who is noble and pathetic. The Countess has a teen-age son, Count Bertram, fatherless, volatile, light-hearted. Helena, daughter of a famous doctor, who is dead, is in love with him; but he is beyond her reach, far out of her class, and will not marry. (Where have we met this young man before ?) The King is sick of an incurable disease. Helena cures him by the art learned from her father, and procures as her reward the King's command upon the young Count to marry her. Thus enforced, he refuses to consummate the marriage and goes off to the wars in Italy, attended by the braggart Parolles. In the fighting he acquits himself bravely; Parolles is an arrant coward, a man of words-a lesser Falstaff without the merriment. (There is little merriment in this play.) The Count, who will not marry, wants to seduce a chaste Florentine girl, appropriately called Diana (a 'Capilet', observe). Helena follows him to Italy and entraps
Introduction
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
him by the 'bed-trick', beloved of Elizabethans, substituting herself, his proper wife, for the girl. Rings are exchanged, by which the consummation is proved and the Count is rounded up by the women. The good old Countess has stood by Helena all along, willing to receive her as her daughter, in preference to the son who has fallen down on his duty, and earned the King's disfavour. In the end the Count is caught and makes his submission-needs must-and all is well. But where have we met all this before? As the best editor of the play remarks, one must consider 'the creative interplay between author and environment, the fact that the feelings of the author are a creative part of the climate of opinion in which he lives.' 1 Of course-as with any creative writer.
Contem.porary. Many contemporary touches indicate the new age into which the country, and its dramatist, were moving. Early in 1603 the old Queen sickened and died. Again it was a year of severe plague; sickness and death were all about. The King's sickness dominates the first part of the play and motivates the action of the whole. We are instructed to see this in terms of folk-tale, and indeed it has its anthropological significance. But it is also contemporary. The King has been given up by the learned doctors of 'the congregated College', and he could not 'prostitute our past-cure malady to empirics'. The Royal College of Physicians contained the learned doctors and they led the persecution of the disdained empirics, who sometimes effected surprising cures. 2 The professional physicians adhered to the traditional authority of Galen, empirics were apt to follow the new teaching of Paracelsus. Helena effects the King's cure, the courtiers are amazed: 'to be relinquished of the artists-both of Galen and of Paracelsus-of all the learned Fellows ... that gave him out incurable!' There had been no curing the old Queen: Elizabeth I died in March 1603, and a new world opened up: the Jacobean age. Older people did not like it: Shakespeare's fellow-Warwickshireman, Drayton, detested it and the new generation that knew not David. The old King says of his young lords: but they may jest Till their own scorn return to them unnoted Ere they can hide their levity in honour. The King agrees with the young Count's father: 'Let me not live', quoth he, 'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses All but new things disdain; whose judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies Expire before their fashions.' Did this speak for William Shakespeare too, in the new age opening before them? It was a crass and vulgar world, without the dignity which the historic figure Elizabeth I had imposed, and Scotch James and his Danish Queen-both given tippling-were incapable of emulating. Parolles is a figure of the new society, with opportunism and its false values: 'Simply the thing I am shall make me live', declares after his exposure. In a world of fools, such as Parolles can by foolery thrive: There's place and means for every man alive.
of to its he·
G. K. Hunter, in the Arden Shakespeare edition, liii. 1
2 cf. My Simon Forman, c. I I I.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Introduction
Class. In an unstable society the issue of Class becomes uncomfortably sharpened; in an older, traditional world people know their place and are more content. We have noticed Shakespeare occupying himself with the theme of gentility, about which he had reason to be conscious, in As You Like It. The issue of Class is acute in All's Well, for Helena's love for the Count is an 'ambitious love' as she recognises, and a doctor's daughter is disqualified from marrying a nobleman-except for the miraculous cure she has effected. As to the miracle Shakespeare puts something very significant into the mouth of an old lord. 'They say miracles are past, and we have our philosophical persons to make modem and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence it is that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.' Evidently Shakespeare was no superficial rationalist: he had an old-time view of the mystery of things, closer to the old faith. The Countess is firm in these values; she respects the 'honesty' (i.e. honourableness, in Elizabethan meaning) of Helena's lower-class origin, but sets more store by the 'goodness' she achieves. 'I have those hopes of her good that her education promises her dispositions she inherits-which makes her fair gifts fairer.' The son scorns Helena for her origin: She had her breeding at my father's chargeA poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! The King replies in a long speech which gives the message of the play. Strange is it that our bloodsOf colour, weight, and heat poured all together Would quite confound distinction-yet stands off In differences so mighty. In disliking a physician's daughter the Count overlooks innate quality for the name. (We may reflect, cynically, that a king could afford to ignore such distinctions-as Henry VIn did, Elizabeth I not.) Shakespeare draws the moral in rhymed couplets some people have found uncongenial-but he uses them, as Elizabethans did, to enforce moral lessons, for didactic sentences, incantations. From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed ... Honours thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers. The mere word's a slave, Debauched on every tomb, on every grave, A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb, Where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb Of honoured bones indeed. That is a pretty trenchant statement for an age which set such store by raising magnificent family monuments, with their trophies and epitaphs, in the churches where altars, shrines and images of the saints had stood. And it shows that, for all his proper
Introduction
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
respect for degree and gentility, Shakespeare had no illusions, no falsification of values underneath. Himself had certainly earned his place in society from his acts, his quality and achievement: Non sans droit. The King is enraged with the Count, who has dishonoured him by his disrespect'My honour's at the stake'-and makes him obey, contracting him to Helena with 'Proud, scornful boy'. One must remember that 'Boy!' was a term of insult with Elizabethans; the Count is several times thus described: he is an adolescent. His values are false. After his enforced marriage the Count compounds his misconduct by stealing away from Court to the war in Italy, to cheat Helena of her marital rights. This earns the 'everlasting displeasure of the King, who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him.' His mother pleads for him that it was Natural rebellion done i' th'blade of youth. (This was the burden of the Countess of Southampton's plea for her son after his rebellion with Essex-and everybody accepted the plea of his youth, though he was not so young: a delayed adolescent.) V\Then the Count is rounded up by the women, roped and tied, and all is forgiven, the King is gracious: I am not a day of season, For thou may'st see a sunshine and a hail In me at once. But to the brightest beams Distracted clouds give way. So stand thou forth; The time is fair again. This was precisely what was said of Elizabeth I, and how she kept order in the nursery by alternating storm and sunshine: after an overcast sky, what bliss when all was clear in the firmament again! Helena also excuses the Count's stealing a,yay, regarding herself as responsible for his being driven from 'the sportive Court, where thou wast shot at by fair eyes'. In the war abroad he served, bravely enough, as General of Horse. On the news of his wife's presumed death a companion comments, 'the great dignity that his valour hath here acquired for him shall at home be encountered with a shame as ample' -for he would be held responsible for her death. I think we may diagnose that his real fault was irresponsibility, the failure of a teen-age or delayed adolescent to face the responsibilities of adult life. This is the theme of the Sonnets: the young lord who will not do his duty by his family, marry and carry it on-and yet allmvs himself to betray his friend with his friend's mistress. Ironically enough, the Count uses Shakespeare's argument with his young Lord against the Florentine girl's chastity: You are no maiden but a monument ... And now you should be as your mother 'was When your sweet self v,'as got. Diana replies with an image which, for all its being a commonplace, is from the Sonnets: when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves.
English Edwardian actor, Lewis Ball, as the Countess of. Rousillon's clown
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Introduction
Helena's comment is the forceful one: But, 0 strange men! That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the cozened thoughts Defiles the pitchy night; so lust doth play With what it loathes for that which is away. Here is 'the expense of spirit in a waste of shame is lust in action' ·again-Shakespeare'~ love-hate complex about sex, which was to reach such depths shortly in King Lear. For the moment, we may take it that his attitude is that of the sceptical relativism he usually enforces: 'How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! And how mightily some other times we dro\-vn our gain in tears!' And the conclusion?'The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.' This is Shakespeare's regular signature-tune. It.is as well that he ends his comedy with, Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon. Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercherwe should hardly know it for a comedy else.
Personal. Two references to the sack of Troy, and to Cressida, indicate that the recent Troilus and Cressida was still in mind. Though the satire is much less savage than in that play, there are satirical reflections on the code of honour, on Court affectations, and on the war, still not yet brought to an end: 'the muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks lest they shake themselves to pieces.' Parolles regards Captain Dumaine (note the name from Lo've's Labour's Lost) as good enough to instruct the doubling of files at lVlile-End, where the musters were trained-and where Justice Shallow had watched 'a little quiver fellow' manage his piece. Shakespeare's reading in the Voyages has a reflection: Thus, Indian-like, Religious in mine error, I adore The sun that looks upon his worshipper. Contemporary religious controversy receives a hit from the Clown: 'If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam, the Papist, howsoever their hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl horns together like any deer i'th'herd.' Here is the hoary old joke about horns and cuckolding again. We may note that the Clown's patter is suggestive rather than outright bawdy, though there is some of that. For the rest, the Clown's wit dates more than anything else. Probably the funniest episode is the uncasing of Parolles. The cult of melancholy is glanced at: 'I know a man that had this trick of melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song.'
Introduction
ALL'S WELL THAT EXDS WELL
The bed-trick-the trick that is played upon the young Count to get him to bed with his own wife-was popular '>lith Elizabethans, if not with us. Any notable act of cozenage gave them pleasure in the theatre, and Count Bertram was fair game. Diana puts the point as it appeared, and appealed, to them: Only, in this disguise, I think't no sin To cozen him that 'would unjustly win. I t is to be observed once more how Shakespeare tips the balance m favour of his women.
Background. Professor Hunter comments that 'Shakespeare had some knowledge of French, and the atmosphere of the play is decidedly French; the names ... seem to indicate a mind at work strongly imbued with a consciousness of French meanings'. But, of course, Shakespeare was lodging with the lVlontjoies in Silver Street in these years. And ,vhat are we to make of the close parallels between the young Count and the young Earl Shakespeare had known so closely? Everything shows that Southampton's mother, the Countess, was a charming woman, who never lost the good will of the Queen for all her son's escapades and ''lorse. He, too, was fatherless and irresponsible; he had dishonoured Lord Burghley by breaking his word to marry his granddaughter and, rather than do it, had stolen off from Court to France. Later on, from France again he meant to go further, into Italy, but was brought back by Essex to marry his cousin (,shot at with fair eyes'), one of the Queen's Court ladies, Elizabeth Vernon, at the last moment of her pregnanc}'. Over and over he earned the Queen's disfavour. Essex made him General of Horse abroad in Ireland (like the young Count Bertram in Italy), where he acquitted himself bravely. The Queen cashiered him. In the end, when he followed Essex into rebellion, the only plea for him was his youth and immaturity. Southampton, too, had his Parolles-a braggadocio Captain Piers Edmonds, whom the Earl made his corporal-general when he was General of the Horse: 'he ate and drank at his table and lay in his tent. The Earl of Southampton would cull and hug him in his arms and play wantonly with him.' 1 Essex would take this professional soldier for coach-rides 'with him. Did Shakespeare know the fellow? It is not unlikely, and the type is familiar.
Text. The text, from the First Folio is a fair one and offers few difficulties. These, however, are fascinating, for they appear to indicate a copy from the author's own manuscript. For, as in J-Juch Ado, Romeo and Juliet, and 2 Henry IV, the name occasionally given is that of the role and not that of the character. Professor Hunter concludes, 'it looks as if Shakespeare was finding out, in the course of composition, what to call these characters; if this inference is correct then the manuscript behind the Folio must represent a stage at which the play was still being composed.'
I Salisbury llllss., (Hist. Mss. Com.), XI, 94,
108.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. KING OF FRANCE. DUKE OF FLORENCE. BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon. LAFEU, an old lord. PAROLLES, a follower of Bertram.. Steward,} servants to the Countess of Clown, Rousillon. A Page. COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram .
HELENA, a gentlewoman proteded by the Countess. An old Widow of Florence. DIANA, daughter to the Widow. VIOLENTA, } neighbours and friends to the MARIANA, Widow. Lords, Officers, Soldiers, &c., French and Florentine. SCENE: R (JUsill(m; Paris; Florence; Marseilles.
• A bullet beside a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite Columll
ACT I. ScENE I.
Rousil101l.
The COUNT'spalace.
Enter BERTRAM, tlU! COUNTESS of ROUSILLON,
HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black. Count. In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. Ber. And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, .madam; you, sir, a father: he that so generally • is at all times good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather than lack it where there is such abundance. Ctmnt. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted
Countess: 'In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband'. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cormvall's Works of Shakspere, 1146 Opposite: Parolles betrays Bertram and his army. Engraving from Rowe's edition of Shakespeare, 1709 8 generally. To the general public. 9 hold. Continue.
ALL'S WELL THAT EKDS WELL
Act I Scene I
39 fistula. A long, pipe-like ulcer.
45-52 I hll've those . .. goodness. See introduction.
62-63 I do ... it too. Helena is seen to grieve for her father, but she has another grief within her. 71-73 thy blood . .. birthright. The Countess is hoping that her son's inherited qualities will combine with his own good disposition.
time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father,-O, that 'had'! how sad a passage 'tis 1whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for the king's sake, he were living ! I think it would be the death of the king's disease. La}: How called you the man you speak of, madam? Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. 31 Laf. He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very lately spoke of him admiringly and moumingly: he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. Be,.. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? • Laf. A fistula, my lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. 40 Laf. 1 would It were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His sole child, my lord, and be.queathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her ,good that her education promises; her dispositlOns she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues and traitors too: in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affed: a sorrow than have it. 61 • Het. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. La/. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal. Be,.. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. Laf. How understand we that? Count. Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father 70 .In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use, and kee~ thy fnend Under thy own life's key: be check d for silence, But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, Fallon thy head! Farewell, my lord; 'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, 80 Advise him. Laf. He cannot want the best That shall attend his love.
Act I Scene I CllUnt. Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.
[Exit . .Bn-. [To Helena] The best wishes that can be forged in your thQughts be servants to you t Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and La/eu. Hel. 0, were that all! I think not on my father; cp And these great tears grace his remembrance more Than those I shed for him. What was he like? I have forgot him: my imagination • Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. I am undone: there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one That I should love a bri~ht particular star And think to wed it, he IS so above me : • In his bright radiance and collateral light Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. 100 The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: The hind that would be mated by the lion Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, To see him every hour; to sit and draw His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, .In our heart's table; heart too capable • Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy Must sanetify his reliques. Who comes here? Enter PAROLLES. [Aside] One that goes with him: I love him for 110 his sake; And yet I know him a notorious liar, • Think. him a great way fool, solely a coward ; Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him, • That they take place, when virtue's steely bones t Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. Par. Save you, fair queen! Hel. And you, monarch ! Par. No. Hel. And no. 120 Par. Are you meditating on virginity? Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how: may we barricado it against him? Par. Keep him out. Hel. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence yet is weak : -unfold to us some warlike resistance. • Par. There is none: man, sitting down before you, will undermine you and blow you up. 130 Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers up ! Is there no military policy, how virgins might blow up men Y Par. Virginity being blown dow n, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept., it is ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't !
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
94 fat:aur. Beloved face. 99 collateral light. Planets were thought to move in concentric, parallel spheres. Helena in her lower sphere will have to be content with seeing the light from Bertram.
106 table. Records.
Helena: ' ... to sit and draw His arched brows ... his curls In our heart's table.' This illustration shows the drawer inscribing the outlines of his friend on a table held against the friend's heart. From Geoffrey Witney's A Choice of Emblems, 1586
107 trick. Expression. 112 a great way. Mostly. 114 take place. Take precedence. 129 sitting down. Besieging.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Act I Scene I
152 sanctified limit. Consecrated ground. ParoHes is saying that virginity is as sinful as suicide, because it murders itself by having no offspring. (cf. Shakespeare to Southampton in the Sonnets.) 157 inhibited. Forbidden. 172 date. A pun on the meanings 'fruit' and 'age'. The second meaning is tr .!n up in the end of the sentence with 'in the cheek'.
181-181 A mother . .. disaster. These are the epithets of love poetry, and Helena is imagining Bertram using them on the ladies at court.
188 adoptious christendoms. Christian names. 189 gossips. Is godfather to. 198-199 Might with . .. think. It is unfortunate that our good wishes to our friends cannot be manifested in action.
ACT'j'SCI Parolies and Helena. Illustration by Byam Shaw, Chiswick Shakespeare c. Id the "ecrets of your army and made such pestiferous reports of men very
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
280 egg. A synonym for something trivial or valueless.
281-282 Nessus. Nessus, a centaur, tried to rape the wife of Hercules; centaurs were a symbol of lust. 298-299 led the drum . .. tragedians. Travelling players often had a drummer at their head.
302 Mile-end. The drilling ground of the London militia.
303 doubling of files. One 'of the simplest forms of drill. 311 quart d'icu. A quarter of a crown. 312 fee-simple. Absolute title. 313 cut the entail. Break the provision that the estate should pass to his heir.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Act IV Scene IV
Parolles: 'Who cannot be crushed with a plot?' Engraving from Bell's Shakespeare, 1773-1778
20 motn:e. Instrument.
nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. Par. 0 Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! First Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends (Unblinding him. So, look about you: know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain. 349 Sec. Lord. God bless you, Captain Parolles. First Lord. God save you, noble captain. Sec. Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am for France. First Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? an I were nota very coward, I'ld compel it of you: but fare you well. [Exeunt Bertram and Lords. First Sold. You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that has a knot on't yet. 359 Par. Who cannot be crushed with a ploU First Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare yewell, sir: I am for France too: we shall speak of you there. [Exit, with Soldiers. Par. YetamItbankful: ifmyheartweregreat, 'Twould burst at this. Captain 1'11 be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as ~ft As captain shall: simply the thing I am . Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, 370 Let him fear this, for it will come to pass That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parones. live Safest in shame! being fooI'd, by foolery thrive! There's place and means for every man alive. I '11 after them. [Exit. SCENE IV. Flormce.
The Widow's house.
Enter :aELENAt Widow, alld DIANA. Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, One of the greatest in the Christian world Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne'tisneedfuI, Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: Time was, I did him a desired office, Dear almost as his life; which gratitude Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd His grace is at Marseilles; to which place We have convenient convoy. You must know, I am supposed dead: the army breaking, n My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, And by the leave of my good lord the king, We'll be before our welcome. Wid. Gentle madam, You never had a servant to whose trust Your business was more welcome. H eI. N or you, mistress, Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, .As it hath fated her to be my motive 20 And helper to a husband. But, 0 strange men! That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play
Act IV Scene V With what it loathes for that which is away. But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, Under my poor instruCtions yet must suffer Something in my behalf. Dia. Let death and honesty Go with your impositions, I am yours Upon your will to suffer. Hel. Yet, I pray you: 30 But with the word the time will bring on summer, When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; Our waggon is prepared, and time revives us: .ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL: still the fine's the crown; Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
35 the fine's the cr(J'u:n. From 'Finis coronat opus', the end cro~'I1s all.
2 snipt-taffeta. Slashed silk; a reference to Parolles' penchant for flashy clothes. 18 herb of grace. Rue. 21 Xebuchadnezzar. The King of Babylon who went mad and ate grass.
[Exezmt.
SCENE V.
Rousilltm.
The COuNT'spalace.
Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, ami CLOWN.
Laf.
No, no, no, your son was misled with a • snipt-taffeta fellow there, whose viIIanous safiron would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-inlaw had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. Count. I would I had not known him; it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewom:m that ever nature had praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans ofa mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love. Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram • of the salad, or rather, the herb of grace. Laf. They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. 20 • Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezz.ar, sir; I have not much skill in grass. Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. Laf. Your distinc1ion? Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. Laf.- So you were a knave at his service, indeed. 31 Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. La/. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. C10. At your service. Laf. No, no, no. Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are. Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman? 40 Clo. Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but • his fisnomy is more hotter in France than there. Laf. What prince is that? C/o. The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil. La/. Hold t11ee, there's my purse: I give thee
Xebuchadnezzar. Colour print by William Blake, 1795
42 fisnomy. Physiognomy. more hotter. Because the prince who warred in France was more in anger there, and also because he suffered from the 'French disease' i.e. syphilis.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL Act IV Scene V 47 suggest. Tempt. 51-52 prince of the world. The devil.
53 narrow gate. The way to heaven.
57 broad gate. Of hell. 66 unhappy. Mischievous. 70 pace. The gait of a schooled horse.
Lafeu (Anthony Nicholls) and the Countess (Edith Evans), Stratford-upon-Avon, 1959 100 patch of'l:el'L·et. To cover scars and skin eruptions. 103 two pile and a half. The thickness of the velvet's pile.
• not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still. Clo. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of ever .keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in's court. I .am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some that humble themselves may; but the many will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the flowery .way that leads to the broad gate and the great fire. Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and 1 tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks. C/o. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. (Exit. • Laf. A shrewd knave and an unhappy. Count. So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for .his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he wilL 71 Laf I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to tell you, since I heard of the go:>d lady's death and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it? Cmmt. With very much content, my lord; and I wish it happily effeCted. Laf His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed. Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters that my son will be here to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till they meet together. Laf Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be admitted. Comtt. You need but plead your honourable privilege. Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I thank my God it holds yet.
R e-ent" CLOWN. Clo. 0 madam, yonder's my lord your son .with a·patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under 't or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek .of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so belike is that. C/o. But it is your carbonadoed face. Laf Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk with the young noble soldier. 109 C/o. Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats and most courteous fe:l.thers which bow the head and nod at every man. [Exeunt.
680
Act V Scenes I & II
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
ACT V. SCENE I. Marseilles. A stnet. Enter HELENA, Widow, attd DIANA, with two
Attendants.
•
Hel. But this exceeding posting day and night Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: But since you have made the days and nights as one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, Be bold you do so grow in my requital As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;
Enter a Gentleman. This man may help me to his majesty's ear, If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. Gent. And you. H el. Sit, I have seen you in the court of France. Gent. I have been sometimes there. II Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful. Gent. What's your will? Hel. That it will please you To give this poor petition to the king, And aid me with that store of power you have 20 To come into his presence. Gent. The king's not here. Hel. Not here, sir! Gent. Not, indeed: He hence removed last night and with more haste Than is his use. Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains ! Hel. AL.L'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. I do beseech you, whither is he gone? Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; Whither I am going. Hel. I do beseech you, sir, Since you are like to see the king before me, 30 Commend the paper to his gracious hand, Which I presume shall render you no blame But rather make you thank your pains for it. I will come after you with what good speed Our means will make us means. Gent. This I'll do for yOll. Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. [Exemzt. Go, go, provide. SCENE
II. Rousillon. Bifore the COuNT'spalace.
Enter CLOWN, a,ed PAROLLES,./ollowing. Par. Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in • fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. C/o. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. • Prithee, allow the wind. IO Par. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.
The port of Marseilles. Engraving from Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of Shakspere, 1839-1843 1 e,weedillg /HJsting. Great speed.
5 11/ood. Anger.
10 allcnc the rL'ind. Go down wind.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL Act V Scene III 20 purr. The knave in the card game 'post and pair'. 24 carp. A pun on 'the fish reared in ponds' and 'someone who complains'.
35 justices. The justices administered the poor laws. 42-43 Cox my passion! God's passion.
Costume desiiJl for the Countess of Roussillon by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, I958-1959 4 estimation home. Full value.
Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Pnthee, get thee further. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman I Look, here he comes himself. 19 Enter LAFEU. e Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, -but llot a musk-cat,-that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her disple.asure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the e carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to your lordship. [Exit. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched. 29 La/. And what would you have me todo? 'Tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady and would llot have knaves thrive long under her? e There 'sa quartd'ecu for you: letthejusticesmake you and fortune friends: I am for other blL';iness. Par. I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. La/. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word. 40 Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. e La/. You beg more than • word,' then. Cox my passion! give me your hand. How does your drum? Par. 0 my good lord, you were the first that found mel La/. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. Par. It lies in you, JOy lord, to bring me in 50 some grace, for you did bring me out. La/. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? One brings thee in grace and the other brings thee out. [Trumjets sound.] The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you. [Exeunt. ScENE
III.
R ousill(J1I.
TIz.e
COUNT'S palace.
Flourisk. E1,ter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, tke two French Lords, with Attendants. Kil~g. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know • Her estimation home. Count. 'Tis past, my liege; And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth ; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears it and bums on. King. My honour'd lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all; Though my revenges were high bent upon him, And watch'd the time to shoot. Laf. This I must say. I I
Act V Scene III But first I beg my pardon, the young lord Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady Offence of mighty note; but to himself The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eye.!'!, whose words all ears took captive, Whose dear perfeCtion hearts thatscorn'd to serve Humbly call'd mistress. King. Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; 20 \Ve are reconciled, and the first view shall kill • All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; The nature of his great offence is dead, And deeper than oblivion we do bury • The incensing relics of it: let him approach, A stranger, no offender; and inform him So 'tis our will he should. Gent. I shall, my liege. [Exit. King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? La/. All that he is hath reference to your highness. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me 30 That set him high in fame.
Enter BERTRAM. He looks well on't. I am not a day of season, For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail In me at once: but to the brightest beams DistraCted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; The time is fair again. Ber. My high-repented blames, Dear sovereign, pardon to me. King. All is whole; Not one word more of the consumed time. • Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees 40 The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effeCt them. You remember The daughter of this lord ? Ber. Admiringly, my liege, at first I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue: Where the impression of mine eye infixing, • Contempt his scornful perspeCtive did lend me, Which warp'd the line of every other favour; Scom'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; 50 Extended or contraeted all proportions To a most hideous objeCt: thence it came That she whom all men praised and whom myself, Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye The dust that did offend it. King. Well excused: That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away From the great compt: but love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offence, Crying, • That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults 60 Make trivial price of serious things we have, Not knowing them until we know their grave: Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, Destroy our friends and after weep their dust:
La/K,ng.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
22 repetition. Recollection of the past. 25 incensing relics. Memories inciting anger. 39 forward top. Fore-lock. 48 perspective. An optical glass that distorts.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL Act V Scene III 72 cesse. Cease.
74 digested. Absorbed. 8& reave. Rob.
87 stead. Help. 98 subscribed. Acknowledged.
100 h(!(J't·y satisfaction. Sadly convinced.
101 Plums. The god of wealth who would know the mystery of turning base metals into gold.
tOur own love waking cries to see what's done, While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin : The main consents are had; and here we'll stay To see our widower's second man-iage-day. 70 CDUltt. Which better than the first, 0 dear heaven, bless I • Or, ere they meet, in me, 0 nature, cesse ! Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name .Must be digested, give a favour from you To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, That she may quickly come. [Bertram gi'lJez a ring.] By myoId beard, And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead. Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, The last that e'er I took her leave at court, I saw upon her finger. Ber. Hers it was not. 80 King. Now, pray you, let me Sl!e it; for mine eye, While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood N ecessitied to help, that by this token • r would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave her • Of what should stead her most? Ber. My gracious sovereign. Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never hers. Count. 5011, on my life, I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it go At her life's rate. Laf. I am :;ure I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
III Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought • I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceased • In heavy satisfaCl:ion and would never roo .Receive the ring again. Klier. PlutHs himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, \Vhoe,-er gave it you. ,Then, if you know That yon are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety That she would never put it from her fillger, Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, 110 Where you have never come, or sent it us Upon her great disaster. Ber. She never saw it. Ki,lg. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mille honour; And makest conjeCtural fears to come into me, Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove so ;And yet I know not: thou didst hate her. deadly,
Act V Scene III And she is dead; which nothing, but to close Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, More than to see this ring. Take him away. 120 (Guards seize Bertram. • My (ore-past proofs, howe'er the matter faU, .Shall tax my fears of little vanity, Having vainly feard too little. Away with him! We'll sift this matter further. Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Exit, guarded. Kt'ng-. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
Enter a Gentleman. Gent. Gracious sovereign, \Vhether I have been to blame or no, I know not: Here's a petition from a Florentine, 130 • Who hath for four or five removes come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know Is here attending: her business looks in her \Vith an importing visage; and she told me, I n a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself. Kzitg. [Reads) Upon his many protestatlons to marry me when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. N ow is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I foHO\\' him to his c"'mtry for justice: grant it me, 0 king! in you it he5t lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, anfl a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPILET. La/. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and • toll for this: I 'Il none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, ~eu,
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
121 My fore-past proofs. The accumulation of proofs. 122 Shall ta.• , .. ·vanity. Show my fears were not groundless . 131 remo'[·es. Stoppina places on ajoumey.
149 toll for this. In order to sell at a market, one had to register in a 'toll-book'. Lafeu will sell Bertram. 164 cease. Die.
Diana (Helen Mirren), Widow (Elizabeth Spriggs), Kina of France (Sebastian Shaw) and Bertram (Ian Richardson), Stratford-upon-Avon, 1967
. 150
To bring forth this discovery. Seek these sUltors: Go speedily and bring again the COUllt. I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd. C(Junt. Now,justice on the doers!
Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded. King. I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry. Ettte,. 'Vidow mtd DIANA. What woman's that? Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capilet : My suit as I do understand, you know, 160 And the'refore know how far I may be pitied. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, .And both' shall cease, without your remedy. King. Come hither, count; do you know these women? Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny But that I know them: do they charge me further?
68 5
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 170 this hand. Bertram's harid.
, 88 gamester. Harlot.
Act V Scene III Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? ner. She's none of mine, my lord. Di'a. If you shan marry, • You give away this hand, and that is mine; 170 You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; You give away myself, which is known mine: For I by vow am so embodied yours, That she which marries you must marry me, Either both or none. La!. Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour 180 Than for to think that I would sink it here. King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour Than in my thought it lies. Dia. Good my lord, Ask him upon his oath, if he does think He had not my virginity. King. \Vhat say'st thou to her? Ber. She's impudent, my lord, .And was a common gamester to the camp. Dia. He does me wrong. my lord; if I were so, He might have bought me at a common price : Do not believe him. 0, behold this ring, Whose high respett and rich validity Did lack a parallel; yet for all that He gave it to a commoner 0' the camp, If I be one. Count. He blushes, and 'tis it: Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, Conferl"d by testament to the sequent issue, Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; That ring's a thousand proofs. Ktitg. Methought you said You saw one here in court could witness it. 200 Dia. I did, my lord, but loath am to produce So bad an instrument: his name '5 Farolles. La/. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. King. Find him, and bring him hither. (Exit an Attendant.
Ber. What of him? He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, With all the spots 0' the world tax'd and debosh'd; Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, That will speak any thing? K iltg. She hath that ring of yours. Ber. I think she has: certain it is I liked her, And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: 21 I She knew her distance and did angle for me, Madding my eagerness with her restraint. As all impediments in fancy's course Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; And I had that which any inferior might. At market-price have bought. Dia. I must be patient: You, that have turn'doffa first so noble wife, 220
686
Act V Scene III • May justly diet me. I pray you yet: Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; Send for your ring, I will return it home, And give me mine again. Ber. I have it not. King. What ring was yours, I pray you? Dia. Sir, much hke The same upon your finger. King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. Dia. And this was it I gave him, being abed. King. The story then goes false, you threw it him Out of a casement. Dia. I have spoke the truth. 230
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
221 diet. Restrain. 232 boggle shrewdly. You take fright.
254 naught}'. Hopeless.
Enter P AROLI.ES.
•
Ber. My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. Kt·ng. You boggle shrewdly, every feather
starts you. Is this the man you speak of? Dia. Ay, my lord. Kt"ng. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, Not fearing the disple.asure of your master, Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, By him and by this woman here what know you? Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. 240 Kt"tl,f'. Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? Par. Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? King. How, I pray you? Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. King. How is that? Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an equivocal companion is this! 250 Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. La.f. He's a good drum, my lord, but a • naughty orator. . Dia. Do YI)U know he promised me marriage? Par. Faith, I know more than I'll speak. K illg. But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? Par. Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time that I knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things which would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not speak what I know. King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: but thOll art too .fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside. 270 This ring, you say, was yours? Dia. Ay, my good lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. Ktng. Who lent it you? Via. It was not lent me neither.
Costume design for Parolles by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1958
210 fine. Subtle.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Act V Scene III
287 cwtomer. Prostitute.
300 quit. Acquit.
305 exorcist. One that raised as well as laid spirits.
King: 'Is there no exorcist ... ' Entrance of Helena with the Widow. Engraving from painti~ by Francis Wheatley (1747-I8oI)
King-. Dia. King.
Where did you find it, then? I found it not. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him? Dia. I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off anti on at pleasure. Ki1tg. This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. 280 Din. It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. King. Take her away; I do not like her now; To prison with her: and away with him. Unless thou te!l'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. I '11 never tell you. Kine- Take her away. Dia. 1 'II put in bail, my liege. • King. I think thee now some common customer. Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas YOll. King. Wherefore hast thou accused him all 289 this while? Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: He knows I am no maid, and he'II swear to't ; I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. Killg. She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, l"Oyal sir: [Exit Widow. The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, Aud he shall surety me. But for this lord, 'Vho hath a bused me, as he knows himself, • Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; 301 And at that time he got his wife with child: Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: And now behold the meaning.
Re-enter \Vidow, with •
Ki,le· Is there no exorcist Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real that I see? lid. No, my good lord; 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name and not the thing. Be,.. Both, both. 0, pardon 1 lId my good lord, when I was like this maid, 3 IO I found you wondrous kind. ' There is your ring; And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: 'When from my finger you can get this ring And are by me with child,' &c. This is done: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, I '11 love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you! my dear mother, do I see you living? 320 La/. Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: [To Parolks1 Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so,
°
° 688
HELENA.
Epilogue ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport
326 e9:en. Exact.
with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. Kilzg. Let us from point to point this story know, • To make the even truth in pleasure flow. [To Diana] If thou be'5t yet a fresh uncropped flower, Choose thou thy husband, and I 'II pay thy dower; For I can guess that by thy honest aid Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. 330 Of that and all the progress, more and less, Res(\lvedly more Iellot'Ure shall express: All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
[FlourisA
EPILOGUE. Kin~.
The king's a beggar, now the play is done: All is well ended, if this suit be won, That you express content; which we will pay, • With strife to please you, day exceeding day : Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. [ExeUtlt. 340
ALL-IS-WELL ENDED
ACT'V'SC:III
The King of France. Illustration by Byam Shaw, Chisw;ck Shakespeare c. 338 strife. Striving.
1900
Measure for Measure
FOR MEASURE is an inspired play, where All's TiVeli is an excogitated one. With the former coming shortly upon the heels of the hItter, All's Well gives something of an impression of a trial-run. The situation upon which the plot hangs, the intrigue, is similar. The villain of this piece, Angelo-Count Bertram was not a villain-is caught similarly by the bed-trick, his betrothed substituted for the woman he fancies. The light-weight lying courtier Lucio is shown up and exposed as was the lying and cowardly Parolles. And yet, in spite of similarity of plot and its unravelling, how very different these two plays are which are often thought of as twins! The ailing King in ALFs Well is totally different from the mysterious Duke-who disguises himself as a Friar, to observe the proceedings of government in his absence. Isabella is a more appealing character than Helena, when all is said; the villainous, tormented Angelo a more powerful creation than the adolescent Count Bertram. ParoHes is not rivalled, but the low-life and prison scenes of 1\,feasure Jor iV1easure are more gripping than the army-life around Bertram which, after all, Shakespeare did not know. Moreover, the whole atmosphere is different from that of its predecessor. It all goes to show the extraordinary variety of his invention, and what little importance he attached to plot, 'sources' and that kind of thing. He took a story he could turn into a play, then let his playwright's expertise and his poetic imagination play upon it. In this case he looked over various versions of the story he had it in mind to dramatise: a closet-drama by George \Vhitestone and the prose version in his Heptameron, but also Cinzio's collection of Italian stories, Ecatommiti. With that he set to work, this time both heart and mind were kindled, the play makes a homogeneous integrated impact. We know that the dramatist thought in terms of scenes, and this play provides several of great power. MEASURE
Government. A main theme is government, the mystery of state, its workings, whether satisfactory or not. We now appreciate, in this century better than before, how much Shakespeare's mind reflected upon the problems of society, of government and order. They were naturally much in mind at this moment of the take-over by James I from Elizabeth, the coming of a new dynasty. The first words of this play are
Introduction
:\trEASURE FOR MEASURE
Of government the properties to unfold ... The Duke, withdrawing to observe and test the rule of his Deputy, Angelo, has been too permissive and let slip The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds ... Sith 'twas my fault to giye the people scope, 'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done '\Then eyil deeds have their permissive pass And not the punishment. The Deputy is a precise, stern, cold-seeming man-when he makes water, his urine is congealed ice, says Lucio-and he puts the-law against fornication into effect, thus catching Claudio, who has got his girl with child before marriage. This is pretty harsh; but the detestable Puritans under the Commonwealth brought in the death-penalty against adultery, though it remained a dead letter through the common sense of the country, ,,·ith which they were never in keeping. The Duke knows well that his Deputy is 'precise, and scarce confesses that his blood flows'. ::\ow shall we see, If power change purpose, what our seemers be. Power is apt to corrupt and, now that he has the chance, the Deputy is determined to enforce the death-penalty on the offending Claudio. He is preyented only by himself falling from grace, by arranging an a~signation with Claudio's chaste sister, Isabellaas he thinks, but for whom his own betrothed, whom he had deserted for insufficiency of dowry, is substituted. Such is the plot, and it borders all the way along on tragedy, until the Duke reyeals himself and puts things right. Shakespeare was also writing Othello this year; we may regard JlJeasurefor _~leasl/1'e as a tragi-comedy. Various comments of the author by the way illuminate what those in authority have to put up with:
::\0 might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest yirtue strikes. \"hat king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? We see again the contemporary use of rhymed couplets for moral sententiae-no point in depreciating such verse, it shows an anachronistic lack of understanding on the part of critics. Again:
o place and greatness, millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee. Yolumes of report Run with these false and most contrarious quests C pon thy doings, thousand escapes of wit ::\Iake thee the father of their idle dream, And rack thee in their fancies. This was the kind of thing that Queen Elizabeth, unmarried as she was, had to put up
MEAS URE FOR MEASURE
Introduction
with all her life. There is no end to the nonsense people will say and believe about persons in high place. William Shakespeare was a governmental man; government never had any reason to fear his tongue or pen-he understood too well the mystery of state, the pressures and strains upon those who rule.
The Jacobean Age. James I was now king. A clever, kind, well-educated man, he was more of a don than a monarch; with no sense of dignity and not much of an appearance, he did not care for the public shows in which the great actress, his predecessor, cut such a figure. The Duke is in accord: I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes ; Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement. He adds to this a reflection of Essex which Shakespeare noted several times: Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does affect iti.e. that cultivates popularity as Essex (and Bolingbroke in the plays) had done. James I positively disliked the people thronging around him: even so The general [i.e. populace], subject to a well-wished king, Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love Must needs appear offence. J ames had been besieged by crowds and sycophants all his way down from the North to take possession of his new kingdom. Unfortunately his first year coincided with a severe outbreak of plague. Mistress Overdone, the bawd-another Mistress Quicklysums up the times: 'Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk.' The war was not ended till next year, 1604- Meanwhile the gallows claimed some notable exhibits: George Brooke, Lord Cobham's brother, and Father Watson; while Lord Cobham, the great Sir Walter Ralegh and Sir Griffin Markham were condemned to the gallows, but their sentences left suspended over their heads. It was queasy, uneasy time. We have an unsurpassed picture of contemporary low life, which gave Victorian commentators such embarrassment. It is obvious that William Shakespeare was as well acquainted with this as with the Court-a man of the theatre would be with both. Measure for Measure has a full gallery of bawds, pimps, gaolbirds, a provost, a constable, an executioner thrown in-all completely authentic and convincing, a realistic portrayal if to be taken and played comically. The drunken gaolbird, Barnardine, for example, does not care whether his head is chopped off or not. Foreign observers noted that the English cared little for death and took a death-sentence nonchalantly; but they objected to the foreign sentence of breaking on the wheel, leaving men maimed for life. Elbow, the constable, is another Dogberry, his malapropisms quite as amusing and to the point. Shakespeare is at ease with all this, the bawdy fuller and more flowing
Introduction
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
than ever-no point in being embarrassed by the facts of life. Even the lofty Deputy, the great Angelo, makes his assignation in a 'garden-house', which was a favourite locale for such encounters, as we know from Forman. These creatures' dialogue flows more easily than that of the camp in All's Well, except for Parolles with his virtuosity of vituperation. There is a Dickensian inventiveness in the very names of the company m pnson: 'First, here's young ~laster Rash. He's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, nine-score and seventeen pounds, of which he made five marks ready money. ::.\1arry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women 'were all dead. Then there is here one ~Iaster Caper, at the suit of :Vlaster Threepile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizzy, and young lVlaster Deepvow, and :Vlaster Copperspur, and l\'Iaster Starve-lackey, the rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthright the tilter, and brave :VI aster Shoe-tie the great traveller, and wild Half-Can that stabbed pots, and I think forty more-all great doers in our trade and are now "for the Lord's sake".' With what gusto Shakespeare wrote that passage! He had recovered his spirits.
Personal. One catches sight of him, for a moment forgetting himself, when he makes the Duke say suddenly in the surroundings of prison: 'Look, th'unfolding star calls up the shepherd'-as if he were out on the Cotswolds once more. (Perhaps he was writing at home in Stratford.) Many famous passages give us his reflections on life: but man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, lViost ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As makes the angels weep . . . Man-an angry ape ... The Duke, in a tremendous formal oration, presents a disenchanted view of life:
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep; a breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences That dost this habitation where thou keep'st Hourly afflict. This is an old man speaking. On the other hand, Claudio, who is young:
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
Introduction In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice, To be imprisoned in the viewless winds And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world-
that was one Elizabethan view of what happened after death. There is a revealing reflection from Isabella, the virtuous: Women, help heaven! Men their creation mar In profiting by them. Did that speak for William Shakespeare? Isabella has been universally admired, especially perhaps by maiden ladies in universities, for her adamant refusal to sacrifice her chastity to save her brother's life. She would rather die: I had rather give my body than my soul. This moral absolute is less regarded today; a modern audience might well think she attached an exaggerated importance to it. But then, there has supervened the most universal of revolutions-that in the position and status of women. Anyway, without her refusal there would not have been a play. More pervasive and more permanent, perhaps, are the themes of justice and of truth against seeming, of what is a man's nature as against what it appears, either to others or even to himself. Angelo's is a convincing progress of discovery of himself: he is not so cold and unimpassioned as he thought himself to be-he is seduced by 'modesty' where he never would be by 'lightness' -and his ignorance of his true self fractures his sense of justice. One reflection bespeaks Shakespeare the social man, as always: Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, ~ot light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. This play has been well-nigh buried under a mountain of moralising-quite superfluously, since all along Shakespeare dravvs the morals himself: That we were all, as some would seem to be, Free from our faults, as faults from seeming free ... He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as hoty as severe . . . etc. And by the lips of Isabella Shakespeare pronounces the ultimate moral statement that guided him: forgiveness, charity, mercy: Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once, And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? 0 think on that, ...
Introduction
MEASURE FOR MEASURE English Edwardian acton, Isabella Glynand S. Hoskins, as Isabella and Lucio
We are already in the atmosphere of the great tragedies.
The Text. First printed in the First Folio, is thought to have been printed from a transcript of an autograph manuscript, prepared by the Company's scribe, Ralph Crane. This triple process of transmission led to a number of confusions and mislineations. For example, the Duke's line quoted above, 'Look, th'unfolding star calls up the shepherd', printed as prose, is obviously a blank verse line. These things are not very important, and do not impede our appreciation of the play.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE. VINCENTIO, the Duke. ANGELO, Deputy. EscALUS, an ancient Lord. CLAUDIO, a young gentleman. LUCIO, a fantastic. Two other gentlemen.
DRAMATIS PERSONlE. POMPEY, servant to Mistress Overdone. ABHORSON, an exemtioner. BARN ARDINE, a dissolute prisoner.
PROVOST.
THOMAS, } PETER,
two
friar"
So
A Justice. VARRIUS. ELBOW, a FROTH, a
I SABELLA, sister to Claudio. MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo. JULIET, beloved of Claudio. FRANCISCA, a nun. MISTRESS OvERDONE, a bawd. Lords, Officers, Citizens, Boy, and Attendants.
simple constable. foolish gentleman.
• A bullet besitk a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite column
ACT I. SCENE t. An apartment in tke DUKE'spa/ace. Enter DUlCE, ESCALUS, Lords and Attendants. Duke. Escalus. Escal. My lord. • Duke. Of government the proper~res ~o unfold, • Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse; • Since I am put to know that your own science • Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you: then no more remains, • t But that to your sufficiency. • • • • • • • . • . • . • • • • . . . as your worth is able, And let them work. The nature of our people, Our city's institutions, and the terms IX • For common justice, you're as pregnant in As art and practice hath enriched any That we remember. . There is our commission,
SCENE: Vienna.
The Duke appoints Angelo his deputy. Enarav~ by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846 The title refers to the 'Sermon on the Mount'; 'With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again'. (Matthew vii. 2.).
3 Ofgovernment . .. unfold. To discourse on the qualities necessary to government. 4 to affect. To be affected. 5 put to know. Must acknowledae. 6 lists. Bounds.
8-10 But that to ... let them fl)(Jrk. A line is missing here, but one can interpret: 'let your capacity and my authority work t~ether'. 12 pregnant. Knowledgeable.
Opposite: Claudio and Isabella. Painting by W. Holman Hunt, 1850
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
Act I Scene I
18 special soul. Special care. 30 belongings. Qualities.
31 thine own so proper. So completely your own.
31 -32 as to waste . . . they on thee. His good points should not be only devoted to himself.
From which we would not have you warp. hither, I say, bid come before us Angelo.
Call
[Exit an Attendant.
What figure of us think you he will bear! .For you must know, we have with special soul EleCted him our absence to supply, Lent him (lur terror, dress'd him with our love, And given his deputation all the organs 21 Of our own power: what think you of it Y Escal. Hany in Vienna be of worth To undergo such ample grace and honour, I t is Lord Angelo. Duke. Look where he comes.
Enter ANGELO.
The Duke (Alexander Watson), William Poel's production, Royalty Theatre, London, r893 36 finely t()Uch'd. Nobly endowed.
37 But to fine issues. Except to produce fine things. 38 scruple. The smallest particle.
41 Both thanks and use. Both thanks and interest on her loan of gifts. 4Z advertise. Instruct. 43 Hold. Stand firm.
45 Mortality. The power to use the sentence of death. 52 leaven'd. Carefully considered.
62 something on. A part of. 71 Aves. Greetings; literally 'hails' from the LatinA!'·e.
Ang-. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure. Duke. Angelo, There is a kind of charaCter in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history • Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings 30 • Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike .As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd • But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends • The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, 40 .Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech .To one that can my part in him advertise; .Hold therefore, Angelo:In our remove be thou at full ourself: • Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart: old Escalus, Though first in question, is thy secondary. Take thy commission. Ang-. Now, good my lord, Let there be some more test made of my metal, So Before so noble and so great a figure Be stamp'd upon it. Duke. No more evasion: • W e have with a leaven'd and prepared choice Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours. Our haste from hence is of so quick condition That it prefers itself and leaves unquestion'd Matters of needful value. We shall write to you, As time and our concernings shall importune, How it goes with us, and do look to know What doth befall you here. So, fare you well: To the hopeful execution do I leave you 60 Of your commissions. Ang-. Yet give leave, my lord, • That we may bring you something on the way. Duke. My haste may not admit it; N 01" need you, on mine honour, have to do With any scruple; your scope is as mine own, So to enforce or qualify the laws As to rour soul seems good. Give me your hand: 1'11 prIvily away. I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes: Though it do well, I do not relish well 70 .Their loud applause and Aves vehement: Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does affeCt it. Once more, fare you well.
Act I Scene II Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes ! Escal. Lead forth and bring you back in happiness! Duke. I thank you. Fare you well. [Exit. Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave To have free speech with you; and it concerns me • To look into the bottom of my place: A power I have, but of what strength and nature I am not yet instructed. 81 A ng. 'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together, And we may soon our satisfaCtion have Touching that point. Escal. I'll wait upon your honour. [ExeUltt. ScENE
II. A street.
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
79 the bottom of my place. The nature of my duties.
28-29 there went but a ... betwe£tl from the same cloth.
liS.
i.e. we were cut
31 lists. Edges or trimmings.
33 thTee-piled. With pile of triple thickness. 35 kersey. Coarse woollen cloth. piled. A pun on haemorrhoids, supposed to be a result of venereal disease (,the French disease'). 39 begin thy health. Propose a toast to thy health. 40 forget to drink after thee. Lucio would not drink from the same cup for fear of infection.
Entn- LUCIO and two Gentlemen.
Lucio. If the duke with the other dukes come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why then all the dukes fall upon the king. First Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's I Sec. &nt. Amen. Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the Ten Commandments, but scraped one out of the table. Sec. Gent. ' Thou shalt not steal' t %0 Lucio. Ay, that he razed. First Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions: they put forth to steal. There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, do relish the petition well that prays for peace. Sec. Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where grace was said. 20 Sec. Gent. No? a dozen times at least. First Gent. What, in metre? Lucio. In any proportion or in any language. First Gent. I think, or in any religion. Lucio. Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: as, for example, thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. • First Gent. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us. Lucio. I grant; as there may between the .lists and the velvet. Thou art the list. 31 First Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art • good vel vet; thou 'rt a three-piled piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an English • kersey as be piled, as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now? Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of • thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; • but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee. 40 First Gent. I think I have done myself wrong. have I notY Sec. Gent. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free. . Lucio. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes I I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come toSec. Gent. To what, I pray f
Costume design for Lucio, by J. Gower Parks, Stratfordupon-Avon, 1940
699
MEASURE FOR MEASURE
Act I Scene II
50 do/OIlTS. A pun on 'pains' and 'dollars'. 52 French crown. A quibble on 'French coin'; also 'baldness' resulting from the 'French disease'.
84 the sweat. The sweating sickness. 91 Groping jor trouts iJl a peculiar rrt'eT. i.e. fishing in private waters (with a sexual innuendo).
103 put in. Applied for. 104 houses oj resort. Brothels.
Brothel. Woodcut from Holland's Leaguer, 1632
Lucio. Judge. Sec. Gent. To three thousand dolours a year. First Gent. Ay, and more. 5:1: • Lucio. A French crown more. First Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases in me; but thou art full of error; I am sound. Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound as things that are hollow ~ thy bones are hollow; impiety has made a feast of thee.
•
Enter MISTRESS OVERDONE. First Gent. How now I whichoCyourhipshas the most profound sciatica? Mrs Ov. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested and carried to prison was WOlth five thousand of you all. Sec. Gent. Who's that, I pray thee! Mrs Ov. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio, First Gent. Claudio to prison ?'tis not so. Mrs Ov. Nay, but 1 know 'tis so: I saw him arrested, saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off. 70 Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Art thou sure of this? Mrs Ov. I am too sure ofit: and it is for getting Madam Julietta with chUd. Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping. Sec. Gent. Besides, you know, it draws Mmething near to the speech we had to such a purpose. First Gent. But, most of all, agreeing with the proclamation. 81 Lucio. Away! let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. Mrs Ov. Thus, what with the war, what with ethe sweat, what with the gallows and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. Enter POMPEY. How now! what's the news with vou? Pom. Yonder man is carried to prison. M,..s Ov. Well; what has he dond Pom. A wOman. Mrs Ov. But what's his offence? 90 • Pom. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. j~rsOv. What, is there a maid with child by him? Pom. No, but there's a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you? M,..s Ov. What proclamation, man? Pom. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down. Mrs Ov. And what shall become of those in the city? 101 POnt. They shall stand for seed: they had gone .down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. e Mrs Ov. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pulled down? Pum. To the ground, mistress. Mrs Ov. Why~.~ere's a change indeed in the commonwealth! What shall become ofme? Pom. Come; fear not you: good counsellors lack no clients: though you change your place, you need not change your trade; 1'11 be your tapster still. Courage! there will be pity taken
700
Act I Scene II on you: you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered. • Mrs 0'0. What's to do here, Thomas tapster? let's withdraw. Pom. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the .provost to prison; a,nd there's Madam Juliet.
[Exetmt. Enter PROVOST,
CLAUDIO, JULIET,
and
Officer.o. Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world? 120 Bear me to prison, where I am committed. Pro'O. I do it not in evil disposition, But from Lord Angelo by special charge. Claud. Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offence by weight The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will ; On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
Re-enter LUCIO and two Gentlemen. Luet"o. Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes this restraint? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty : As surfeit IS the father of much fast, 130 • So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint. Our natures do) pursue, • Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die. Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors : and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the • foppery of freedom as the morality of imprisonment. What's thy offence, Claudio? Claud. What but to speak of would offend 140 again. Lucio. What, is't murder? Claud. No. Lucto. Lechery? Claud. Call it so. P1"O'lI. Away, sir! you mued, roo Her shall you hear disproved to her eyes, Till she herself confess it. Duke. Good friar, let's hear it. [Isabella is carried qffg-uarded; and Mariana comesforward. Do you not smile at this, Lord Angelo? o heaven, the vanity of wretched fools! Give us some seats. Come, cousin Angelo; In this I'll be impartial; be you judge Of your own cause. Is this the witness, friar? First, let her show her face, and after speak. Mari. Pardon, my lord; I will not show my face Until my husband bid me. 170 Duke. What, are you married! Mart'. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid? M ari. No, my lord.
Act V Scene I Duke. A widow, then Y Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, you are nothing then: neither maid, widow, nor wife? • Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow: I would he had some cause 181 To prattle for himself. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was married; And I confess besides I am no maid: • I have known my husband; yet my husband Knows not that ever he knew me. Lucio. He was drunk then my lord: it can he no better. Duke. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too! 191 Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witness fo.r Lord Angelo. Mari. Now I come to't, my lord: She that accuses him of fornication, In self-same manner doth accuse my husband. And charges him, my lord, with such a time • When I 'll depose I had him in mine arms With all the effeCt of love. Attg. Charges she more than me? M ari. Not that I know. 200 Duke. No? you say your husband. Man: Why,just, mylord,and that is Angelo, Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body, But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's. • A1tg: This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy faCe. M ari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. [ Unveiling: This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which once thou sworest was worth the looking on; . This is the hand which, with a vow'd contract, Was fast belock'd in thi.'le; this is the body 210 That took away the match from Isabel, And did supply thee at thy garden-house In her imagmed person. Duke. Know you this woman! Lucio. Carnally, she says. Duke. Sirrah, no more 1 Lucio. Enough, my lord. Ang-. My lord, I must confess I know this woman: .And five years since there was. some speech of marriage Betwixt myself and her; which was broke o~ • Partly for that her promised proportions .Came short of composition, but in chief 220 .For that her reputation wa.o. From J.O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, r853-65
21 Hannibal. Hannibal's stratagem of tying blazing faggots to the horns of two thousand oxen which created such alarm amongst the Roman army that the Carthaginians were able to break through the Roman encirclement.
774
Devil or deviI's dam, I'll conjure thee: • Blood will I draw 011 thee, thou art a witch, And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. Puc . . Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. [Here they fight. Tal. Heavens, can you suffer hell so to pre~l? 9 My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder, But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. [They fight again. Puc. Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: I must go vidual Orleans forthwith. [A short alarum: then enter the town 'with soldiers. O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; Help Salisbury to make his testament: This day is ours, as many more shall be. [Exit. Tal. My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am, nor what I do: 20 • A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: So beeswith smoke and doves with noisome stench Are from their hives and houses dnven away. They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; Now, like to whelps, we crying rUll away. [A short alarum.
Act I Scene VI & Act II Scene I KING HENRY VI Part I Hark, countrymen 1 either renew the fight, • Or tear the lions out of England's coat; Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, Or horse or oxen from the leopard, 31 As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. [A larum. H er~ another skirmisn. I t will not be: retire into your trenches; You all consented unto Salisbury's death, For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. PuceUe is enter'd into Orleans, In spite of us or aught that we could do. 0, would I were to die with Salisbury! The shame hereof will make me hide my head. [Exit Talbot. Alarum; retreat; .flourisn. SCENE
VI.
TIre
28 England's coat. Coat of arms. 4 Astraea's. Astraea being the Goddess of Justice.
21-22 pyramis . .. Memphis'. According to legend. Rhodope, a celebrated Greek courtesan, married a king of Memphis and built the third pyramid. 28 Saint Denis. Patron saint of France.
~al1ee.
Enur, on tlte walls,
LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALEXC;0N, and Soldiers.
Puc. Advance our waving colours on the walls; Rescued is Orleans from the English: Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. • Cluir. Divinest creature, Astrcea's daughter, I\ow shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess ! Recover'd is the town of Orleans: More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. 10 R eig. Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. A/en. All France will be replete with mirth and joy, When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. Cnar. 'Tis Joan, not we. by whom the day is won; . For which I will divide my crown with her, And all the priests and friars in my realm Shall in procession sing her endless praise. 20 • A statelier pyramis to her I '11 rear Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: I n memory of her when she is dead, Her ashes, in an uro more precious Than the rich-jeweI'd coffer of Darius, Transported shall be at high festivals Before the kings and queens of France. • No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. Come in, and let us banquet royally, 30 After this golden day of viCtory. [Flourish. Exclmt.
Sophia Baddeley, 18th century actress, as La Pucelle, 1776 4 court
of guard. Guardhouse.
ACT II. ScENE
I. Before Orlums.
Enter a Sergeant of a band, with two Sentinels. Sergo Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: If any noise or soldier you perceive N ear to the walls, by some apparent sign • Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. First Smt. Sergeant, you shalL [Exit Sergeant.] Thus are poor servitors,
775
KING HENRY VI Part I Act II Scene I When others sleep upon their quiet beds, , Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold.
E,tter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and forces, witk scaling-ladders, tkeir drums beatillg a dead march. Tal. Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, By whose approach the regions of Artois, Wallon and Pi cardy are friends to us, 10 • This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, Having all day caroused and banqueted: Embrace we then this opportunity • As fitting best to quittance their deceit Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. Bed. Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, To join with witches and the help of hell! Bur. Traitors have never other company. But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? 20 Tal. A maid, they say. Bed. A maid! and be so martial! Bur. Pray God she prove 110t masculine ere long, I f underneath the standard of the French She carry armour as she hath begun. Tal. Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: God is our fortress, in whose conquering name Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. Bed. Ascend, brm'e Talbot; we will follow thee. Tal. Not all together: better far, I guess, That we do make our entrance several ways; 30 That, if it chance the one of us do fail, The other yet may rise against their force. Bed. Agreed: 1'11 to yond corner. Bur. And I to this. Tal. And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. ~ow, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right Of Engli!lh Henry, shall this night appear How much in duty I am bound to both. Sent. Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! [Cry: 'St Ge01-ge,' 'A Talbot.' Tlte French leap o,Jer the 'ulalls in their shirts. EHter, sl!'Veral ways, tIl(! BASTARD of Orleans, ALE:I1c;O:l1, andREIGNIER, half ready, mtdltalf 1I1tready. A scaling ladder, used to scale the walls of a city. Engraving from Robert Ward's Animadvenions of War, 1 6 39
SD dead march. i.e. fof' Salisbury's funeral.
11 secure. Careless, thinking themselves safe. 14 quittance. Repay. 41 trow. Think.
776
A len. How now, my lords! what, all unready so? Bast. Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. 40 • Reig. 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, Hearing .alarums at our chanl ber-doors. A 1m. Of all exploits since first I folIow'd arms, N e'e.r heard I of a warlike enterprise More venturous or desperate than this. Bast. I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. Reig. If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. A len. Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. Bast. Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard.
Act II Scene II KING HENRY VI Part I
Enter CHARLES aud LA PUCELLE. CI:ar. Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? So • Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, Make us partakers of a little gain, That now our loss might be ten times so much? Puc. Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend? At all times will you have my power alike? Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, This sudden mis·chief never could haye fall'n. Ckar. Duke of Alen~on, this was your default, 60 That, being captain of the watch to-night, Did look no better to that weighty charge. Aim. Had all your quarters been as safely kept As that whereof I had the government, We had not been thus shamefully surprised. Bast. Mine was secure. R eie. And so was mine, my lord. Char. And, for myself, most part of all this night, \Vithin her quarter and mine own precintl I was employ'd in pas5ing to and fro, About relieving of the sentinels: 70 Then how or which way should they first break in? Puc. Question, my lords, no further of the case, How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. • And now there rests no other shift but this; To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, • And lay new platforms to endamage them.
51 flatteT. Deceive. 75 shift. Device, stratagem. 77 platforms. Plots.
Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying' A Talbot! a Tal6ot!' They fly, leavi1lg tlleir clothes behind. Sold. I'll be so bold to take what they have left. The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; For I have loaden me with many spoils, 80 Using no other we.apon but his name. [Exit. SCENE
Euter
II.
Orleans.
Withi?: the toW?,.
a Captain, a1ld otfurs. Bed. The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. [R etreat sou1lded. Tal. Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, And here advance it in the market-place, The middle centre of this cursed town. N ow have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night. And that hereafter ages may behold 10 What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, Within their chiefest temple I'll erect A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: Upon the which, that every one may read, Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY,
TI7
KING HE="RY VI Part I Act II Scene III 28 trull. Whore. 41 lies. Lives, dwells.
The Countess of Auvergne. Engraying from a painting by W.Q. Orchardson (1835-1910) 6 TomYl'is. The Scythian Queen, Tomyris, in revenge for the death of her husband at the hands of the Persians, killed Cyrus the Great and put his severed head into a wine skin full of blood. 7 rtmIour. Reputation. renown.
The treacherous manner of his mournful death And what a terror he had been to France. But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, N or any of his false confederates. 21 Bed. 'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, Roused on the sudden from their drow5Y beds, They did amongst the troops of armed men Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. Bur. Myself, as far as I could well discern For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, .Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves 30 That could not live asunder day or night. After that things are set in order here, We'll follow them with all the power we have.
Enter a Messenger. Mess. All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts So much applauded through the realm of France? Tal. Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? Mess. The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, With modesty admiring thy renown, By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouch40 safe • To visit her poor castle where she lies, That she may boast she hath beheld the man \Vhose glory fills the world with loud report. Bur. Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars \Vill turn unto a peaceful comic sport, \Vhen ladies crave to be encounter'd with. You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. Tal. Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men Could not prevail with all their oratory, Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: 50 And therefore tell her I return gre.at thanks, And in submission will attend on her. Will not your honours bear me company? Bed. No, truly; it is more than manners will: And I have heard it said, unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone. Tal. Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. Come hither, captain. [Whzspers.] You perceive my mind? Capt. I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. [Exeunt. 60 SCENE III. A m;et"g1te. The COUNTESS'S castle.
E1tter tke COUNTESS and her Porter. Porter, remember what I gave lD charge; And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. Port. Madam, I will. [Exit. COUftt. The plot is laid: if all things fallout right, I shall as famous be by this exploit • As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. • Great is the rumour of this dreadful knight. And his achievements of no less account: Count.
778
Act II Scene III KING HENRY VI Part I Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, • To give their censure of these rare reports. 10
E"ier Messenger alta TALBOT. Mess. Madam, According as your ladyship desired, By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. Count. And he is welcome. What 1 is this the man? Mess. Madam, it is. Co,mt. Is this the scourge of France? Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad That with his name the mothers still their babes? I see report is fabulous and false: I thought I should have seen some Hercules, A second HeCtor, for his grim aspeCt, 20 And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! .It cannot be this weak and writhled sht'imp Should strike such terror to his enemies. Tal. Madam,. I have been bold to trouble you; But since your ladyship is not at leisure, I'll sort some other time to visit you. Co,ml. What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. Mess. Stay, ·my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves To know the cause of your abrupt departure. 30 Tal. Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, I go to certify her Talbot's here.
Re-enter Porter with keys.
•
•
• •
COU1U. If thou be he, then art thou prisoner. Tal. Prisoner! to whom? Count. To me, blood-thirsty lord; And for that cause I train'd thee to my house. Long time thy shadow hath been thrall to me, For in my gallery thy piCture hangs: But now the substance shall endure the like. And I will chain these legs and arms of thine, That hast by tyranny these many years 40 Wasted our country, slain our citizens And senL our sons and husbands captivate. Tal. Ha, ha, ha! Count. Laughest thou, wretch? thy mirth shAll turn to moan. Tal. I laugh to see your ladyship so fond To think that you have aught but Talbot's shadow Whereon to praCtise your severity. Cotatt. Why, art not thou the man? Tal. I am indeed. COlml. Then have I substance too. Tal. No, no, I am but shadow of myself: 50 You are deceived, my substance is not here; For what you see is but the smallest part And least proportion of humanity: I tdl you, madam, were the whole frame here, It is of such a spacious lofty pitch, Vour roof were not sufficient to contain 't. CtJZlnl. This is a riddling merchant for the nonce; He will be here, and yet he is not here: How can these contrarieties agree? Tal. That will I show you presently. 60
10 censure. Judgment, opinion. 23 writhled. Wrinkled. 36 thrall. In bondage.
45 fond. Foolish. 55 pitch. Height. 57 riddling merchant. Riddle-monger. for the nonce. For the time or occasion (a line-filler).
Talbot: 'How say you, madam? ... 'Talbot summons his soldiers. Engraving from a painting by John Opie (1761 - 1807)
[ Winds his horn. Drrmzs strike up: a peal %l"titltlnCe. Enter Soldiers. How say you, madam? are you now persuaded That Talbot is but shadow of himself? 779
KING HENRY VI Part I Act II Scene IV 68 bruited. Noised abroad, reported. 79 cates. Delicacies.
17 quillets. Legal subtleties, precise distinctions. 18 no wiser than a daw. i.e. a simpleton (prm·erb). 21 pUJ'blinti. Partly blind.
26 significants. Signs.
These are his substance. sinews, arms and strength, With which he yoketh your rebellious necks, Razeth your cities and subverts your towns And in a moment makes them desolate. C01l1d. Victorious Talbot! pardon my abuse : • I find thou art no less than fame hath bmited And more than may be gather'd by thy shape. Let my presumption not provoke thy wrath; 70 }'or I am sorry that with reverence I did not entertain thee as thou art. Tal. Be not dismay'd, fair lady; nor misconstrue The mind of Talbot, as you did mistake The outward composition of his body. What you have done hath not offended me; Nor other satisfaCtion do I crave, But only, with your patience, that we may • Taste of your wine and see what cates you have; For soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. 80 Count. With all my heart. and think me honoured To feast so great a warrior in my house. [Exeunt. SCENE
IV.
L01ldon.
Tke Temple-garden.
Enter tke
EARLS OF SOMERSET, SUFFOLK, alld WARWICK; RICHARD PLANTAGENET, VERNON, and another Lawyer.
Plantagenet: 'From off this brier pluck a white rose with me'. Engraving from a painting by Josiah Boydell
780
Plan. Great lords and gentlemen, what means thi3 silence? Dare 110 man answer in a case of truth? Sufi Within the Temple-hall we were too loud; The garden here is more convenient. Plan. Then say at once if I maintain'd the truth; Or else was wrangling Somerset in the error? Stif. Faith, I have been a truant in the law, And never yet could frame my will to it; And therefore frame the law unto my will. Som. Judge you, my Lord of Warwick, then, between us. 10 War. Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch; Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth; Between two blades, which bears the better temper: Between two horses, which doth bear him best; Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye; I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgement; • But in these nice sharp quiilets of the law, • Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. Plan. Tut, tut, here isa mannerly forbearance: The truth appears so naked on my side 20 • That any purblind eye may find it out. Som. And on my side it is so well appareU'd, So clear, so shining and so evident That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. Plan. Since you are tongue-tied and so loath to speak, • In dumb sigl1ificants proclaim your thoughts: Let him that is a true-born gentleman And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. 30 SOIH. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth.
Act II Scene IV KING HENRY VI Part I
•
•
•
• •
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. War. I love no colours, and without all colour Of base insinuatin/l: flattery I pluck this white rose with Plantagenet. S1if. I pluck this red rose with young Somerset And say withal I think he held the right. V cr. Stay, lords and gentlemen, and pluck no more, Till you conclude that he upon whose side 40 The fewest roses are cropp'd from the tree Shall yield the other in the right opinion. Som. Good Master Vernon, it is well objected: If I have fewest, I subscribe in silence. Plan. And I. Vcr. Then for the truth and plainness of the case, I pluck this pale and maiden blossom here, Giving my verdict on the white rose side. Som. Prick not your finger as you pluck it off, Lest bleeding you do paint the white rose red SO And fall on my side so, against your will. Vcr. If I, my lord, for my opinion bleed, Opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt And keep me on the side where stilll am. Som. \Vell, well, come on: who else? LCt'Zu. Unless my study and my books be false, The argument you held was wrong in you; [To Somerset. In sign whereof I pluck a white rose too. Plan. Now, Somerset, where is your argu· ment? SOlll. Here in my scabbard, meditating that Shall dye your white rose in a bloody red. 61 Plan. Meantime your cheeks do counterfeit our roses; For pale they look with fear, as witnessing The truth on our side. SOIn. No, Plantagenet, 'Tis not for fear but anger that thy cheeks Blush for pure shame to counterfeit our roses, And yet thy tongue will not confess thy error. pum. Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset? Som. Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet? Plmt. Ay, sharp and piercing, to maintain his truth; 70 'VhiIes thy consuming canker eats his falsehood. S om. \Vell, 1'11 find friends to wear my bleeding roses, That shall maintain what I have said is true, Where false Plantagenet dare not be seen. Plall. Now, by this maiden blossom in my hand, I scorn thee and thy fashion, peevish boy. Suf. Turn not thy scorns this way, Plantagenet. Plmt. Proud Pole, I will, and scorn both him and thee. Su./. I'll tllrn my part thereof into thy throat. Som. Away, away, good William de la Pole! We grace the yeoman by conversing with him. 81 War. Now, by God's will, thou wrong'st him, Somerset; His grandfather '\\"3.S Lionel Duke of Clarence, Third son to the third Edward King of England: Spring crestless yeomen from so deep a root? Plml. He bears him on the place's privilege, Or durst not, for his craven heart, say thus. Som. By him that made me, I'll maintain my words
34 coioW's. Equivocal usalle: 'tints or hues' and 'pretences'. 68 CaMe.,. M8!liot, wonn in the bud.
78 Pole. De la Pole, Suffolk's family name.
The Temple Garden scene. Engraving from a painting by John Pettie (1839-93) 85 crestless yeoman. i.e. illnoble, not having a coat of anns.
8& bean . .. privilege. Takes advantage of the fact that the Temple being founded as a religious house was a s.anctuary. The Temple was 'privileged' twice-over as it was a law-court.
781
KING HENRY VI Part I Act II Scene V 92 attainted. His blood inherited the 'taint' of treason
from his father. 96 attached, not attainted. Arrested but not convicted of treason by bill of attainder.
100 partaker. Supporter.
•
•
108 cognizance. Badge. blood-drinking. Bloodthirsty.
115 braved. Insulted.
•
5 frUrmivants. Herald's attendants. 6 Nestor-like. Nestor being the Greek king in Homer's Iliad who lived three life-times. 9 exigent. Conclusion.
•
•
On any plot of ground in Christendom. "Vas not thy father, Richard Earl of Cambridge, For treason executed in our late king's dars? 91 And, by his treason, stand'st not thou attamted, Corrupted, and exempt from ancient gentry! His trespass yet lives guilty in thy blood; And, till thou be restored, thou art a yeoman. Plan. My father was attached, not attainted, Condemn'd to die for treason, butno traitor: And that I '11 prove on better men than Somerset, Were growing time once ript.n'd to my will. For your partaker Pole and you yourself, ]00 I'll note you in my book of memory, To scourge you for this apprehension: Look to it well and say you are well warn'd. Som. Ah, thou shalt find us re.ady for thee still; And know us by these colours for thy foes, For these my friends in spite of thee shall wear. Plan. And, by my soul, this pale and angry rose, As cognizance of my blood-drinking hate, \Vill I for ever and my faction wear, Until it wither with me to my grave lIO Or flourish to the height of my degree. Sufi Go forward and be choked with thy ambition! And so farewell until I meet thee next. (Exit. Some Have with thee, Pole. Farewell, ambitious Richard. [Exit. Plan. How I am braved and must perforce endure it! iVar. This blot that they objeCt against your house Shall be wiped out in the next parliament Call'd for the truce of Winchester alld Gloucester: And if thou be not then created York, I will not live to be accounted Warwick. I20 Meantime, in signal of my love to thee, Against proud Somerset and William Pole, \Vill I upon thy party wear this rose: And here I prophesy: this brawl to-day, Grown to this faction in the Temple-garden, Shall send between the red rose and the white A thousand souls to death and deadly night. Platt. Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. Ver. In your behalf still will I wear the same. Law. And so will I. 131 Plan. Thanks, gentle sir. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say This quarrel will drink blood another day. [Exeunt. SCENE
V.
The TO'lVer tif Londtm.
Ellter MORTIMER, broug-ht in a chair, and Gaolers. M or. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself. Even like a man new haled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment: • And these grey locks, the pursuivants of death, • Nestor-like aged in an age of care, Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, • Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent; Weak shoulders, overborne with burthening grief, 782
Act II Scene V KING HENRY VI Part I And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine II That droops his sapless branches to the ground: Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb, Unable to support this lump of clay, Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, As witting I no other comfort have. But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come? First Gaol. Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come: We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber: And answer was return'd that he will come. 20 Mor. Enough: my soul shall then be satisfied. Poor gentleman! his wrong doth equal mine. • Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, Before whose glory I was great in arms, • This loathsome sequestration have I had; And even since then hath Richard been obscured, Deprived of honour and inheritance. But now the arbitrator of despairs, Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries, • With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence: I would his troubles likewise were expired, 31 That so he might recover what was lost.
Enter
23 Henry lVlanmauth. Henry V, bom at Monmouth. 25 sequestration. Seclusion, imprisonment. 30 enlargement. Release.
RICHARD PLANTAGENET.
First Gaol. rtly lord, your loving nephew now is come. M or. RIchard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used, Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. M or. Direct mine arms I may em brace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: 0, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting kiss. 40 And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, Why didst thou say, oflate thou wert despised? Plan. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm;
And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease. This day, in argument u~on a case, Some words there grew twixt Somerset and me ; Among which terms he used his lavish tongue And did upbraid me with my father's death: Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, Else with the like I had requited him. 50 Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake, In honour of a true Plantagenet And for alliance sake, declare the cause My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head. Ilfor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, Was cursed instnlment of his decease. Pia". Discover more at large what cause that was, For I am ignorant and cannot guess. 60 Mor. I will, if that my fading breath permit And death approach not ere my tale be done. Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son, The first-begotten and the lawful heir Of Edward king, the third of that descent: During whose reign the Percies of the north,
Richard Plantagenet with :Vlortimer in the Tower. Engra\-ing from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, 1773-4
783
KING HENRY VI Part I Act II Scene V 88 weening. Thinking. 89 have . .. diadem. Have me crowned king.
105 cloy 'd. Bored.
Death of Mortimer. Engraving from a painting by James Northcote (1746-1831)
122 dusky. Gloomy.
Finding his usurpation most unjust, Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne: The reason moved these warlike lords to this 70 Was, for that-young King Richard thus removed, Leaving no heir begotten of his bodyI was the next by birth and parentage; For by my mother I derived am From Lionel Duke of Clarence, the third son To King Edward the Third; whereas he From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree, Being but fourth of that heroic line. But mark: as in this haughty great attempt They laboured to plant the rightful heir, 80 I lost my liberty and they their lives. Long after this, when Henry the Fifth, Succeeding his father Bolingbroke, did reign, Thy father, Earl of Cambridge, then derived From famous Edmund Langley, Duke of York, Marrying my sister that thy mother was, Again in pity of my hard distress • Levied an army, weening to redeem • And have install'd me in the diadem: But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl go And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers, In whom the title rested, were suppress'd. Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the last. Mor. True: and thou seest that I no issue have And that my fainting words do warrant death : Thou art my heir: the rest I wish thee gather: But yet be wary in thy studious care. Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: But yet., me thinks, my father's execution Was nothing less than bloody tyranny. 100 M or. With silence, nephew, be thou politic: Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster And like a mountain, not to, be removed. But now thy uncle is removing hence : • As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd With long continuance in a settled place. Plalz. 0, uncle, would some part of my young years Might but redeem the passage of your age! Mor. Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth 109 Which giveth many wounds when one will kill. Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good ; Only give order for my funeral: And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes And prosperous be thy life in peace
91 prejudice. Injure. 23 relfllerdon'd. Rewarded.
The jJalace.
KING. GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF WIN-
CHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK, EXETER: VER!'iON, BASSET, and others. To them with his Soldiers, TALBOT.
Tal. My gracious prince, and honourable peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm, I have awhile given truce unto my wars, To do my cuty to my sovereign: In sign whereof, this ann, that hath reclaim'd To your obedience fifty fortresses, Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength, Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem, Lets fall his sword before your highness' feet, And with submissive loyalty of heart 10 Ascribes the glory of his conquest got First to my God and next unto your gract'. [K1uels. Kiltg. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloucester, That hath so long been resident in France? Glou. Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege. Kill~. \Velcome, brave captain and victorious lord! When I was young, as yet I am not old, I do remember how my father said A stouter champion never handled sword. Long since we were resolved of your truth, 20 Your faithful service and your toil in war; Yet never have YOll tasted our reward, • Or been-reguerdon'd with so much as thanks, Because till now we never saw your face: Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
793
KING HENRY VI Part I Act IV Scene I
Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, receives a sword from the King. Engraving from a contemporary manuscript 38 law of arms. Fighting in the king's palace was a punishable offence.
We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury; And in our coronation take your place. [Sennet. Flourisk. E.:Ulmt all but Vernon and Basset. Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear I n honour of my noble Lord of York: 30 Darest thou maintain the former words thou spakest? Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The enviou!> barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the Duke of Somerset. Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as 'he is. Bas. Why, what is he? as good a man as York. Ver. Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that. [Strikes kim. • Bas. Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death, Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. 40 But 1'11 unto his majesty, and crave I may have liberty to venge this wrong; \Vhen thou !>halt see I 'Il meet thee to thy cost. • Ver. Well, miscreant, 1'11 be there as soon as you; And, after, meet you sooner than you would. [Exeunt.
44 miscreant. Wretch.
ACT IV. , 5 craven's leg. Coward's leg.
ScENE T.
Paris.
A kall ofstate.
Ellter the KING, GLOUCESTER, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WARWICK, TALBOT, EXETER, the Governor of Paris, and otkers. Glou. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head. Win. God save King Henry, of that name the sixth! Glou. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath, That you eleCt no other king but him; Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, And none your foes but such as shall pretend Malicious praCtices against his state: This shall ye do, so help you right.eous God ! Entltr SIR JOHN F ASTOLFE. Fast. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To haste unto your coronation, 10 A letter was deliver'd to my hands, Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy. Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next, • To tear the garter from thy craven's leg, [Pluckittg it t?!.f. Which J have done, because unworthily Thou wast installed in that high degree. Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest: This dastard, at the battle of Patay, When but in all I was six thousand strong 20 And that the French were almost ten to on~ Before we met or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire did run away:
794
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY VI Part I In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; Myself and divers gentlemen beside Were there surprised and taken pri!loners. Then judge, great lords, if 1 have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This'ornament of knighthood, yea or no. Giou. To say the truth, this faa was infamous And ill beseeming any common man, 31 Much more a knight, a captain and a leader. Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords, Knights of the garter were of noble birth, Valiant and virtuous. full of haughty courage, Such as were grown to credit by the wars; Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress, But always resolute in most extreme.o;. He .hen that is not furnish'd in this sort Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, 40 Profaning this most honourable order, And should, if I were worthy to be judge, • Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain That lloth presume to boast of gentle blood; Kin~. Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom! Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight: Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death. [Exit Fas/(jif.t. And now, my lord proteCtor, yiew the letter Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy. Ciou. What means his grace, that he hath changed his style? 50 No more but, plain and bluntly, 'To the king!' Hath he forgot he is his sovereign ? Or doth this churlish superscription Pretend some alteration in good will? What's here? [Reads] '1 have, upon especial calIse, Moved with compalo'Sion of my country's wreck, Together with the pitiful complaints Of such as your oppression feeds UpOD, Forsaken your pernicious faaion And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of Frallce.' 60 o monstrous treachery! can this be so, That in alliance, amity and oaths, There should be found such false dissembling guile? King. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? GlfJU. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. King. 1s that the worst this letter doth contain? Gl(}u. It. is the worst, and all, my lord. he writes. King. Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him And give him chastisement for this abuse. How say you, my lord? are you not content? 70 • Tal. Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented, I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. Ki,tg. Then gather strength and march unto him straight: Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason And what offence it is to flout his friends. Tal. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still You may behold confusion of your foes. (Exit.
43 hedge-born swain. Base-born peasant.
Gloucester reads the news of Burgundy's defection to the French. Engra"ing by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1846 71 prevented. Anticipated.
795
KING HENRY VI Part I Act IV Scene I 78 Grant me the combat. i.e. permis.sion to fight a duel. 92 sanguine colour. Blood-red. 94 rePl4gn. Oppose, deny. 98 confutation. Refutation. 102 forged quaint conceit. Artful phraseology.
103 set a gloss ... mtent. Give a glittering surface to deceive. 107 Bewray'd. Betrayed.
113 emulations. Rivalries. 120 pledge. Challenge.
796
Enter •
VERNON
and
BASSET.
Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.. Bas. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. York. This is my servant: hear him, noble ~n~
~
Som. And this is mine: sweet Henry. favour him. King. Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak. Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you com bat? or with whom? Ver. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. Bas. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. King. What is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me know, and then I 'n answer you. Bas. Crossing the sea from England into France, Thi!l fellow here, with envious carping tongue, Upbraided me about the rose I wear; 91 • Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves Did represent my master's blushing cheeks, • When stubbornly he did repugn the truth About a certain question in the law Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him; 'Vith other vile and ignominious terms: • In confutation of which rude reproach And in defence of my lord's worthiness, 100 I crave the benefit of law of arms. Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord: • For though he seem with forged quaint conceit • To set a gloss upon his bold intent, Vet know, my lord, I was provoked by him: And he first took exceptions at this badge, Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower • Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart. York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. IlO KinK. Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men, When for so slight and frivolous a cause • Such factious emulations shall arise ! Good cousins both, of York and Somerset, Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace. York. Let this dissension first be tried by fight, And then your highness shall command a peace. Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then. II9 • York. There is my pledge; accept it, Some1'5et. Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first. Bas. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord. Glon. Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife! And perish ye, with your audacious prate! Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed With this immodest clamorous outrage To trouble and disturb the king and us? And you, my lords, me thinks you do not well To bear with their perverse objeCtions; Much less to take occasion from their mouths 1)0 To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves: Let me persuade you take a better conrc;e.
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY VI Part I
Eze.
It grieves hlS higlmess: good my lords, be friends. King. Come hither, you that would be combatants: Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour, Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause. And you, my lords, remember where we are ; In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation: If they perceive dissension in our looks And that within ourselves we disagree, 140 • How will their grudging stomachs be provoked To wilful disobedience, and rebel! Beside, what infamy will there arise, When foreign princes shall be certified That for a toy, a thing of no rqard, King Henry's peers and chief nobility Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of
141 grudging stomachs. Rebellious dispositions.
Francel 0, think upon the conquest of my father, My tender years, and let us not forego That for a trifle that was bought with hlood 1 150 Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife. I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
[Putting on a red rose..
That anyone should therefore be su&picious I more incline to Somerset than York: Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both: As well they may upbnlid me with my crown, Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd. But your discretions better can persuade Than I am able to instruct or teach: And therefore, as we hither came in peace, 160 So let us still continue peace and love. Cousin of York, we institute your grace To be our regent in these parts of France: And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite Your troops of horsemen with his bands of Coot; And, like true Slibje8:s, sons of your progenitors, Go cheerfully together and digest Your angry choler on your enemies. Ourself, my lord proteCtor and the rest Mter some respite will return to Calais; 170 From thence to England; where I hope ere long To be presented, by your viCtories, With Charles, Alen~on and that traitorous rout.
Henry VI. Engraying from Old England, 1854
[Flourish. Exeunt all out York, Warwick, Exeter and Vernon. War. My Lord of York, I promise you, the king Prettily, methought, did play the orator. York. And so he did; but yet I like it not, I n that he wears the badge of Somerset. War. Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. . York. An if I wist he did,-but let it rest; ISO Other affairs must now be managed.
[Exeunt all but Ezeter.
Exe.
Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; For, had the passions of thy heart burst out, I fear we should have seen decipher'd there More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils, Than yet can be imagined or supposed. But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees This jarring discord of nobility, This shouldering of each other in the court, This faCtious bandying of their favourites, 1erpents as false Suffolk is, With whose envenomed and fatal sting, Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth, They say. is shamefully bereft of life.
21. bucklers. Shields.
SUFFOLK
Sword and buckler in Elizabethan days" From Giacomo di Grassi's True Art of Defence, 1594
283 1TI()rtai worm. Deadly snake.
857
KING HENRY VI Part II Act III Scene II 271 hinds. Menials, yokels. 274 quaint. Clever.
•
Z8S His majesty. God. 31 0 mafld"ake's groan. The mandrake was a plant with a forked root like a man. It was supposed to groan if pulled out of the ground; its cry could kill the hearer.
•
•
•
Mandrake root in the fonn of a man. From a medieval woodcut
858
Commons. [Within] An answer from the king, my Lord of Salisbury! 270 Su/. 'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds, Could send such message to their sovereign: But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd, To show how quaint an orator YOll are: But all the honour Salisbury hath won Is, that he was the lord ambassador Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king. Commons. [Witkin] An answer from the king, or we will all break in! Ki1tg. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, I thank them for their tender loving care; 280 And had I not been cited so by them, Yet did I purpose as they do entreat; For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means: And therefore, by His majesty I swear, . \Vhose far unworthy deputy I am, He shall o"ot breathe infeCtion in this air But three days longer, on the pain of death. [Exit Salisbury. Qupen. 0 Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk ! King. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk! 290 No more, I !:lay: if thou dost plead for him, Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath. Had I but said, I would have kept my word, But when I swear, it is irrevocable. If, after three day!>' SPOlce., thou here be'st found On any ground that I am ruler of, The world shall not be ransom for thy life. Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me; I have great matters to impart to thee. [Ext'ttnt all btlt Queen alld S,tjfolk. Queen. Mischance and sorrow go along with you! 300 Heart's discontent and sour affiiCtion Be playfellows to keep you company 1 There's two of you; the devil make a third! And threefold venge.ance tend upon your steps! Stif. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave. Q'tcen. Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch! Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy? Suf, A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them? Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter-searching terms, 31l As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear, Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate, As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave: My tongue should stumble in mine eame&t words; Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint; Mine hair be: fix'd on end, as one distraCt; Ay. every joint should seem to curse and ban: And even now my burthen'd heart would break, Should I not curse them. Poi...-,on be their drink! 321 Gall, worse than gall, the daintie&t that they taste! Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees! Their chiefest prospeCt murdering basilisks ! Their softest touch as smart as lizards' stings!
Act III Scene II KING HENRY VI Part II Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss, And boding screech-owls make the concert full . All the foul terrors in dark-seated hellQueen. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou tor· ment'st thyself; And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass, Or like an overcharged gun, recoil, 331 And turn the force of them upon thyself. • Sf!/. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave? Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, \Vell could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think. it but a minute spent in sport. Queen. 0, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand, That I may dew it with my mournful tears; 340 N or let the rain of heaven wet this place, To wash away my woful monuments. 0, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, That thou mightst think upon these by the se.al, Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee! So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; 'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, As one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, Adventure to be banished myself: 350 And banished I am, if but from thee. Go; spe.ak not to me; even now be gone. 0, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, Loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee r Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished; Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee. 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence; A wilderness is populous enough, 360 So Suffolk had thy heavenly company: For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation. I can no more: live thou to joy thy life; Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest.
_333 ban. Curse, with word play on 'ban' and 'banish'd'.
Queen: '0, let me entreat thee cease.' Suffolk with Queen Margaret. Engraving from a painting by William Hamilton (1751-1801) 381 an hour's POUl" losl. The Cardinal was an old man and so had not much of life to lose.
Enter VAUX. Queen. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee? Vaux. To signify unto his majesty That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death; For suddenly a grievous sickness took him, 370 That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air, Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth. Sometime he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost Were by his side; sometime he calls the king And whispers to his pillow as to him The secrets of his overcharged soul: And I am sent to tell his majesty That even now he cries aloud for him. Quem. Go tell this heavy message to the king. [Exit Vaztx. Ay me! what is this world! what news are the~! . 3~ • But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss, Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure? Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
859
KING HENRY VI Part II Act III Scene III
399 Elysium. Abode of the blessed after death. 407 Iris. Messenger of Hera, Queen of the Gods.
And with the southern clouds contend in tears, Theirs for the earth's increar.e, mine for my sorrows! Now get thee hence: the king, thou know'st, is coming; If thou be found by me, thou art but dead. Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot live; And in thy sight to die, what were it else But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? 390 Here could I breathe my soul into the air, As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe Dying with mother's dug between its lips : Where, from thy sight, 1 should be raging mad And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes, To have thee with thy lips to s.top my mouth; So shouldst thou either tum my flying fooul, Or I should breathe it so into thy body, • And then it lived in sweet Elysium. To die by thee were but to die in jest; 400 From thee to die were torture more than death: 0, let me stay, befall what may befall ! Queen. Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive, It is applied to a deathful wound. To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee; For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe, • I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out. Sufi I go. Queen. And take my heart with thee. Sufi AJ' ewel, lock'd into the wofull'st cask That ever id contain a thing of worth. .po Even as a !iplitted bark, so sunder we : This way fall I to death. Queen. This way {or me.
[Exeunt severally. ScENE
Enter the Death of Cardinal Beaufort. Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792)
860
III. A hedcltamber.
KING, SALISBURY, WARWICK, CARDINAL ;11 bed.
to tIur
King-. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. Car. If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. King. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Where death's approach is seen so terrible! War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will. Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live, whether they will or no? 10 0, torture me no more! I will confess. Alive again? then show me where he is: I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged sou1. Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. King. 0 thou eternal Mover of the heavens, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! 20 0, beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul And from his bosom purge this black despair! War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin!
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY VI Part II
Sal. Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably. KiNg. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. He dies, and makes no sign. 0 God, forgive him! 29 War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life. KIIIg'. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Clo!'te up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. [E.n'unt. ACT IV. ScENE
1.
Tile coast of Kent.
A /arum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Captain, a Master, a Master's-Mate, W ALTER W HI TMORE, aNd otlters i with. th.em SUFFOLK, and others, Irz.'soners. Cal. The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; • And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades That drag the tragic melancholy night; Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings, • Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. • Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize; • .For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs, Here shall they make their ransom on the sand, 10 Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore. Master, this prisoner freely give I thee; And thou that art his mate, make boot or this: The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share. First Gent. What is my ransom, master! let me know. Mast. A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head. Mate. And so much shall you give, or off goes yours. Cal. What, think YOll much to pay two thousand crowns, • And bear the name and port of gentlemen? Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall : The lives of those which we have lost in fight 21 Be counterpoised with such a petty sum! First Gent. I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life. Sec. Gent. And SO will I and write home for it straight. • Wltit. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die; [To Sufi And so should these, if I might have my will. eaft; Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live. • Sufi Look on my George; I am a gentleman: Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. 30 Wkit. And so am I: my name is Walter Whitmore. How now! why start'st thou? what, doth death affright? Sufi Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death. • A cunDing man did calculate my birth • A nd told me that by water I should die: Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded: • Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly soUnded.
Sea captain with Suffolk as his prisoner, on the sea coast near Dover. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 18.+6 3 jades. Horses in poor condition. 6 Clip. i.e. 'embrace' and 'strike' 8 soldiers . .. prize. Soldiers we have captured. 9 pinnace. A small rowing or sailing vessel.
19 port. Style. 25 laying the prize abocwd. Boarding the captured ship. 29 George. Badie of a Knight of the Garter, because it represented St George killing the dragon; the feast of the order was held on St George's Day (Z3n:l April). 34 lImning man. Fortune teller.
35 water. The pun depends on the Elizabethan pronunciation of Walter with the'!' silent. The 'cunning man' was actually the spirit in I. iv. 36, who prophesied, 'By water he shall die'.
37 Gaultier. Walter in French.
861
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene I 42 arms. Coat of arms.
50 King Henry's blood. Suffolk's false claim. 61 voiding lobby. Waiting room, ante-chamber.
70-71 Pole . . . kennel. Multiple punning on 'poll' (he.ad), 'Pole' (Suffolk's family name - pronounced 'pool') and 'pool' (of water). kennel. Open drain. 80 affy. Affiance, betroth.
84 Syl1a. Lucius Cornelius Sulla (138-78BC) authorised the first Roman proscriptions.
862
SVltit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not: N ever yet did base dishonour blur our name, But with our sword we wiped away the blot; 40 Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge. • Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced, And I proclaim'd a coward through the world! Sufi Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a _prince., The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole. Whit. The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags! S't/. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke: Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I' Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. • S,if, Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood, 50 The honourable blood of Lancaster, Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup? Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule And thought thee happy when I shook my head? How often hast thou waited at my cup, Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board, When I have fe.asted with Queen Margaret? Remember it and let it make thee crest-falI'n, Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride; 60 • How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood And duly waited for my coming forth? This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue. Whit. Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain? Cap. First let my words stab him, as he hath me. Stif. Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou. Cap. Convey him hence and on our long-boat's side Strike off his head. Sufi Thou darest not, for thy own. • Cap. Yes, Pole. Sufi Pole! Cap. Pool! Sir Pool! lord! 10 Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt Troubles the silver spring where England drinks. N ow will I dam up this thy yawning mouth For swallowing the treasure of the realm: Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground; And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain, Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again: And wedded be thou to the hags of hell, • For daring to affy a mighty lord 80 Unto the daughter of a worthless king, Having neither subjeCt, wealth, nor diadem. By devilish policy art thou grown great • And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart. By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France, The false revolting Normans thorough thee Disdain to call us lord, and Pi cardy Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. 90 The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all, Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain, As hating thee, are rising up in arm:.: And now the house of York, thrust from the CTO"'11
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY VI Part II
• •
•
• • •
By shameful murder of a guiltless king And lofty proud encroaching tyranny, Bums With revenging fire; whose hopeful colours Advance onr half-faced sun, striving to shine, Under the which is writ' Invitis nubibus.' The commons here in Kent are up in arms: 100 And, to conclude, reproach and beggary Is crept into the palace of our king, And all by thee. Away! convey him hence. Su.f. 0 that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges! Small things make base men proud: this villain here, Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate. Drones suck not e.agles' blood but rob bee-hives: Tt is impossible that I should die 110 By such a lowly vassal as thyself. Thy words move rage and not remorse in me : I go of message from the queen to France; I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel. Cap. Walter,Whit. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death. Suj'. Gelidus timor occupat artus, it is thee I fear. JVllit. Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee. 'Vhat, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop? First Ge1tt. My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair. 120 Suj'. Suffolk's imperial tongue is stem and rough, Used to command, untaught to plead for favour. Far be it we.should honour such as the!.e 'Vith humble suit: no, rather let my head Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any Save to the God of heaven and to my king; And sooner dance upon a bloody pole Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom. True nobility is exempt from fear: More can I bear than you dare execute. 130 Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more. Su.f. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, That this my death may never be forgot! Great men oft die by vile bezonians : A Roman sworder and banditto slave Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabb'd ] ulius Ca:sar; savag-e islanders Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates. [Exeunt U7 hit1'llore and others 'with. Suffolk. Cap. And as for these whose ransom we have set, It is oul' pleasure one of them depart: 140 Therefore come you with us aori let him go. [Exeunt all but the First Gmtiemafl,
Re-e1tterWH1TMORE'ltlith.
SUFFOLK'S
98 half-faced Richard II.
$U1t.
Heraldic device of Edward III and
99 'Invitis nubibus'. In spite of clouds.
117 Gelidus . .. aJ'tus. Cold fear siezed my limbs. 134 bezonians. Beiiars. 138 Tully. Marcus Tullius Cicero. Brutus' bastord. Brutus was incorrectly believed to be an illegitimate son of Julius Caesar. 138 Pompey. Defeated by Julius Caesar, Pompeyfied to Egypt where he was murdered by his own ex-officers in the pay of Ptolemy.
body.
Whit. There let his head and lifeless body lie, Until the queen his mistress bury it. [Exit. First Gent. 0 barbarous and bloody spectacle! His body will I bear unto the king: If he revenge it not, yet will his friends: So will the queen, that living held him dear. [Exit with. the body.
863
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene II .. 24 Wingham. VillRlZe near Canterbury. 31 Argo. ErllO (therefore).
ScENE
E"ter GEORGE
11. Black/teatk.
BEVIS
a1td JOHN
HOLLAND.
Bevis. Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a lath: they have been up these two days. Holl. They have the more need to sleep now, then. Be'l1ls. I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the commonwealth, amI turn it, and set a new nap upon it. H oll. So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say it was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up. ]0 Bnlis. 0 miserable age! virtue is not regarded in handicrafts-men. Holl. The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons. Bevis. Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen. Holl. True; and yet it is said, labour in thy vocation; which is as much to say as, let the magistrates he labouring men; and therefore 20 should we be magistrates. Bevis. Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand. H oil. I see them! I see them! There's Best's • son, the tanner of Wingham,Bevis. He shall h~ve the skinsof our enemies, to make dog's-leather o( H oil. And Dick the Butcher,Be·ois. Then i~ sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's throat cut like a calf. Holl. And Smith the weaver,30 • Be'llis. Argo, their thread of life is spun. Holl. Come, come, let's fall in with tht:m.
Sketch of Jack Cade by Inigo Jones (1573-1651) for a Court Masque
35 calle. Barrel of 500 herrings. 51 furred pack. Pack made of skin, with the hair outward. bucks. Dirty linen. 59 valiant. Insolent.
864
Drum. Enter CADE, DICK Butclter, SMYTH the JYea'lJer, arId a Sawyer, with il1finite ,mmbers. Cade. We John Cade, so termed of our supposed father,• Dick. [Aside] Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings. Cade. For our enemies shall fall before tiS, inspired with the spirit of putting down kings and princes,-Command silence. Dick. Silence! 40 Cade. My father was a Mortimer,Dick. [Aside] He was an honest man, and a good bricklayer. Cade. My mother a Plantagenet,Dick. [Aside] I knew her well; she was a midwife. Cade. My wife descended of the Lacie!'>,Dick. [Aside] She was, indeed, a pedler's daughter, and sold many laces. 49 Smith. [Aside] But now of late, not able to • travel with her furred pack, she washes bUl;;ks here at home. Cade. Therefore am I of an honourable house. Dick. [Aside] Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable; and there was he born, under a hedge, for his father had never a house but the cage. Cade. Valiant I am. S ",itk. [A side] A' must needs; for beggary is • valiant. Cade. I am able to endure much. 60 Dick. [Aside] No question of that: for I have seen him whipped three market-days together.
Act IV Scene II KING HENRY VI Part II Cade. I fear neither sword nor fire. Smith. [Aszae] He need not fear the sword; • for his coat is of proof. Dick. (AsideJ But methinks he should stand in fear of fire, being burnt i' the hand for stealing of sheep. Cade. Be brave, then; for your captain is brave, and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three·hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer: all the • realm shall be in common; and in Cheapside • shall my palfry go to grass: and when I am king, as king I will be,A II. God save your majesty! Cade. I thank you, good people: there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their lord. Dick. The first thing we do, let's kill aU the lawyers. Cade. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? that parchment, heing scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings: but I say, 'tis the bee's wax ; for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since. How now! who's there? 9r
Elttersome, bri'ngingforward tlte Clerk of Chatham. Smith. The clerk of Chatham: he can write and read and cast accompt. Cade. 0 monstrous ! S mUIt. We took him setting of boys' copies. Code. Here's a villain! Smith. Has a book in his pocket with red letters in 't. Cade. Nay, then, he is a conjurer. Dick. Nay, he can make obligations, and write 101 court-hand. Cade. I am sorry for't: the man is a proper man, of mine honour; unless I find him guilty, he shall not die. Come hither, sirrah, I ~"Ist examine thee: what is thy name? • Clerk. Emmanuel. Dick. They use to write it on the top of letters: 'twill go hard with you. Cat/e. Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thy name! or hast thou a mark to thyself, like an honest plain-dealing man? III Clerk. Sir, I thank God, I have been so weB brought up that I can write my name. All. He hath confessed: away with him! he's a villain and a traitor. Cade. Away with him, I say! hang him with his pen and ink-horn about his neck. [Exit (J11e with the Clerk.
65 proof. Tested.
74 Cheapside. Chief shopping street in old London.
75 palfry. Saddle horse.
108 Emmanuel. Letters were headed 'Emmanuel' 'God be with you'. ""
Cade with the Clerk of Chatham. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1846
Enter MICHAEL. Where's our general? Here I am, thou particular fellow. II9 Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford brother are hard by, with the king's
Mich. Cade. Mich. and his forces Cade. Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He shall be encOtJntered with a man as good as himself: he is hut a knight, is a'!
&65
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene II
141 shearman. Worker who cut the nap from cloth.
Miclr.. No. Cade. To equal him, I will make myself a
166 span-counter. Game in which the aim was to throw a counter within the span of the first counter. crowns. Pun
knight presently. [Kneels] Rise up Sir John Mortimer. [Rises] Now have at him!
on I) coinage; 2) kingdom; 3) 'the French disease'.
Enter SIR HUMPHREY STAFFORD and !Us Erother, with. drum and soldiers. Sta/. Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of
170 Say. Lord Treasurer.
K~~
172 mained. Maimed.
•
•
• •
866
I~
Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down; Home to your cottages, forsake this groom: The king is merciful, if you revolt. Bro. But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood, If you go forward; therefore yield, or die. Cade. As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not: It is to you, good people, that I speak, Over whom, in time "to come, I hope to reign; For I am rightful heir unto the crown. Sta/. Villain, thy fa.ther was a plasterer; 140 And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not Y Cade. And Adam was a gardener. Bro. And what of that? Cade. Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not? Sta/. Ay, sir. Cade. By her he had two children at one birth. Bro. That's false. Cade. Ay, there's the question; but I say, 'tis true: The elder of them, being put to nurse, 150 Was by a beggar-woman stolen away; And, ignorant of his birth and parentage, Became a bricklayer when he came to age: His son am 1; deny it, if you can. Dick. Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall be king. S,nitk. Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it; therefore deny it not. Staf. And will you credit this base drudge's words, That speaks he knows not what? 160 All. Ay, marry, will we; therefore get yc gone. Bro. Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this. Cat/e. [AsUte] He lies, for I invented it myself. Go to, sirrah, tell the king from me, that, for his f.lther's sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys went to span-counter for French crowns, I am content he shall reign; but I'll be proteCtor over him. Dick. And furthermore, we'll have the Lord Say's head for selling the dukedom of Maine. 170 Calie. And good reason; for thereby is England mained, and fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance holds it up. Fellow kings, I tell you that that Lord Say hath gelded the commonwealth, and made it an eunuch: and more than that, he can speak French; and therefore he is a traitor. Sta.f. 0 gross and miserable ignorance! Cade. Nay, answer, if you can: the Frenchmen are our enemies; go to, then, I ask but this:
Act IV Scene III & IV KING HENRY VI Part II can he that speaks with the tongue of an enemy be a good counsellor, or no? All. No, no; and therefore we 'U have his head. Bro. Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail, Assail them with the army of the king. Staf. Herald, away; and throughout every town Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade; That those which fly before the battle ends May, even their wives' and children's sight, Be hang'd up for example at their doors: 190 And you that be the king's friends, follow me. [Exeunt the two Staffords, and soldiers. Cade. And you that love the commons, follow me. N ow show yourselves men; 'tis for liberty. We will not leave one lord, one gentleman : • Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon; For they are thrifty honest men and such As would, but that they dare not, take our parts. Dick. They are all in order and march toward us. Cade. But then are we in order when we are most out of order. Come, march forward. 200 [E.uunt.
in
SCENE
III. Anotlter part of Blacklteatlt.
Alarums to tlte figltt, wlteret"n botlt tlte STAFFORDS are slain. Eltter CADE and tlte rest. Cade. Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford? Dick. Here, sir. Cade. They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thou behavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own slaughter-house: therefore thus • will I reward thee, the Lent shall be as long again as it is; and thou shalt have a license to kill for a hundred lacking one. Dick. I desire no more. 10 Cade. And, to speak truth, thou deservest no less. This monument of the victory will I bear [juttin,f on Sir Humphrey's bdgandine]; and the bodles shall be dragged at my horse heels till I do come to London, where we will have the mayor's sword borne before us. Dick. If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the gaols and let out the prisoners. Cade. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards London. [Exeunt. 20 SCENE
Enter tlte
lV. LOtldcm.
Map showing Blackheath. From John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great B,itaine, I61I-I2
195 clouted shoaf!. Hobnail boots. 7-8 Lent . . . kill. Butchers were not permitted to slauehter durine Lent. SO brigandine. A coat of mail.
TIte jalace.
with a sujjJlication, and the Suffolk's head, tlte DUKE OF ana the LoRD SAY. Queen. Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind And makes it fearful and degenerate; Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep. But who can cease to weep and look on this? Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast: But where's the body that I should embrace? Buck. What answer makes your grace to the rebels'supplication? King. 1 '11 send some holy bishop to entreat; For God forbid so many simple souls 10 KlNG
QUEEN witlt BUCKINGHAM
867
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene IV 39 Killingworth. Kenilworth castle in Warwickshire.
Engravin~
of Kenilworth Castle in
1620
Should perish by the sword! And I myself, Rather than bloody war shall cut them short, Will parler with Jack Cade their general: But stay, '11 read it over once again. Queen. Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face Ruled, like a wandering planet, over me, And could it not enforce them to relent, That were unworthy to behold the same? King. Lord Say, Jack Cade ha.th sworn to have thy head. Say. Ay, but I hope your highness sball have his. 20 King. How now, madam I Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death? I fear me, love, if that I had been dead, Thou wouldest not have mourn'd so much for me. Queen. No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.
Enter a Messenger. King. How now! what news? why comest thou in snch haste? Mess. The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my lord! Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer, Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house, And calls your grace usurper openly 30 And vows to crown himself in Westminster. His army is a ragged multitude Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless: Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death Hath given them heart and courage to proceed: All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen; They call false caterpillars and intend their death. King. 0 graceless men! they know not what they do. • Buck. My gracious lord, retire to K.illingworth, Until Q power be raised to put them down. 40 Queen. Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive, These Kelltish rebels would be soon appeased! King. Lord Say, the traitors hate thee; Therefore away with us to Killingworth.. Say. So might your grace's person be in danger. The sight of me is odious in their eyes; And therefore in this city will I stay And live alone as secret as I may. Enter another Messenger. Mess. Jack Cade hath gotten London bridge: The citizens fly and forsake their houses: SO The rascal people, thirsting after prey, Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear To spoil the city and your royal court. Buck. Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse. King. Come, Margaret; God, our hope, will succour us. Queen. My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased. King. Farewell, my lord; trust not the Kentish rebels. Buck. Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd. Say. The trust I have is in mine innocence, And therefore am I bold and resolute. 60 [E.%'t"Hnt.
868
Act IV Scenes V VI & VII KING HENRY VI Part II SCENE V. London. The Tower. Enter LORD SCALES upon the Tower, walking. Then enter two or three Citizens below. Scales. How now! is Jack Cade slain? First Cit. No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they have won the bridge, killing all those that withstand them: the lord mayor craves aid of your honour from the Tower to defend the city from the rebels. Scalts. Such aid as I can spare you shall command; But I am troubled here with them myself; The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower. But get you to Smithfield and gather head, 10 And thither I will send you Matthew Gaffe; Fight for your king, your country and your lives; And so, farewell, for I must hence again. [Exeunt.
VI. London. Cannon Street. Enter JACK CADE and the rest, and strt"kes hu staff on London-stone. ClIde. Now is Mortimerlord of this city. And SCENE
• here, sitting upon London-stone, I charge and • command that, of the city's cost, the pissingconduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign. And now henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls me other than Lord Mortimer.
Tower of London. Engradng from a print of 1597 2 London-stone. A Roman milestone in Cannon Street.
3-4 pissing-collduit. A small water fountain used by the poor. 2 Sm:oy. London residence of the Duke of Lancaster.
Enter a Soldier, runnz'ng. Sold. Jack Cade! Jack Cade ! Cade. Knock him down there. [Theykz'll him. Smz'th. If this fellow be wise, he'll never call ye Jack Cade more: I think he hath a very fair warning. D':ck. My lord, there's an army gathered together in Smithfield. Cade. Come, then, let's go fight with them: but first, go and set London bridge on fire; and, if rou can, burn down the Tower too. Come, let s away. [Exeunt. SCENE
VII. London.
Smz'tltfield.
Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE z's slaz'n, and all the rest. Then enter JACK CADE1 with his company. Cade. So, sirs: now go some and pull down • the Savoy; others to the inns of court; down with them all. 1Jz'ck. I have a suit unto your lordship. Cade. Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word. Dz'ck. Only that the laws of England may come out of your mouth. Hall. [Aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law, then; for he was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis not whole yet. I I Smz'tlt. [Aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law; for his brea.th stinks with eating toasted cheese. Cade. I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, burn all the records of the realm: my mouth shall be the parliament of En~land. Hall. [AsUie] Then we are lIke to have biting statutes, unless his teeth be pulled out.
The Sayoy Palace, London residence of the Duke of Lancaster. Engraving from Old England, 1854
869
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene VII 24-25 one . .. poond. A joking exaggeration. 31 Basimecu. 'Baise mon cui' (kiss my backside).
34 btmJm. Broom.
38-39 SCfJre • •• tally. Tallies were two halves of a stick split and divided between the creditor and the debtor. Scores were notches on the tallies recording the transactions. 48-48 could not read. i.e. they couldn't read the 'neck verse' in Latin which would have enabled them to claim 'benefit of deraY'. This would entitle them to exemption from hangmg by a secular court on the grounds that, as clerics, they could be tried only by an ecclesiastical court. 61 bona ... gens. Good country, bad people.
Cade. And henceforward all things shall be in common. 21
Enter a Messenger. My lord, a prize, a prize! here's the Lord Say, which sold the towns in France; he • that made us pay one and twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the pound, the last subsidy. Mess.
Enter GEORGE BEVIS. witk the LORD SAY. Cade. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten
• •
•
•
Say: 'Hear me but speak .. .' Lord Say (Charles West) with Jack Cade (Harold Innocent), Dick the Butcher (Ronald Fraser) and Cade's followers, Old Vic, 1957
•
77 book. Learning. prefeTT'd. Recommended.
•
870
times. Ah, thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! now art thou within point-blank of our jurisdicHon regaL What canst thou answer to my majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in ered.ing a grammar school: and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear. Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put them in prison; and because they could not read, thou hast hanged them; when, indeed, only for that cause they have been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not? Say. What of that? Cade. Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear a cloak, when honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets. Dick. And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example, that am a butcher. Sa,. You men of Kent,Dtck. What say you of Kent? 60 Sa"!. Nothing but this; 'tis' bona terra, mala ·gens.' . Cade. Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin. Say. Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will. Kent, in the Commentaries Cresar writ, Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle: Sweet is the country, because full of riches : The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy; Which makes me hope you are not void of pity. I sold not Maine, 1 lost not Normandy, 10 Yet, to recover them, would lose my life. Justice with favour have I always done; Prayers and tears have moved me, gifts could never. When have 1 aught exacted at your hands, But to maintain the king, the realm and you? Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks, Because my book preferr'd me to the king, And seeing ignorance is the curse of God, Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven, Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits, 80 You cannot but forbear to murder me:
Act IV Scene VII KING HENRY VI Part II This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings For your behoof,Cade. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field? Say. Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck Those that I never saw and struck them dead. Ceo. monstrous coward! what, to come behind folks? Say. These cheeks are pale for watching for your good. go Cade. Give him a box 0' the ear and that will make 'em red again. Say. Long sitting to determine poor men's causes Hath made me full of sickness and di~ases. Cade. Ye shall have a hempen caudle then and the help of hatchet. Dick. Why dost thou quiver, man? Say. The palsy, and not fear, provokes me. Cade. Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, I'll be even with you: I'll see if his head will stand steadier on a pole, or no. Take him away, and behead him. Say. Tell me wherein have I offended most? Have I affected wealth or honour? speak. Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold? Is my apparel sumptuous to behold? Whom have I injured, that ye seek my death? These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding, This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts. 0, let me live! IIO Cade. [Asztie] I feel remorse in myself with his words; but I '11 bridle it: he shall die, an it be but for pleading so well for his life. Away with him I he has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not 0' God's name. Go, take him away, I say. and strike off his head presently; and then break into his son-in-Iaw's house, Sir James Cromer, and stn"ke off his head, and bring them both upon two poles hither. A II. I t shall be done. 120 Say. Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers, nod should be so obdurate as yourselves, How would it fare with your departed souls? And therefore yet relent, and save my life. Cade. Away with him! and do as I command yeo [E.xe1.tnt some witlt Lord Say. The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a head on his shoulders, unless he pay me tribute; there shall not a maid be married, but she shall pay to me her maidenhead ere they have it: men shall hold of me in capite; and we charge and command that their wives be as free as heart can wish or tongue can tell. Dick. My lord, when shan we go to Cheapside and take up commodities upon our bills? Cade. Marry, presently. All. 0, brave!
°
•
•
•
•
95 caudle. Warm (!true!. 114 familiar. Witch's assistant. 131 in capite. By direct (!trant from the kin(!t. 135 bills. i.e. on credit.
Re-enter one with tlu heads. Cade. But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another, for they loved well when they were alive. N ow part them again, lest they consult· about the giving up of some more towns in fi'rance. Soldiers. defer the spoil of the city
871
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene VIII 1-2 Fish Street. On the north bank of the Thames opposite Southwark. Saint Magnus' Corner. End of Fish Street near London Bridge.
until night: for with these borne before us, instead of maces, will we ride through the streets • and at every comer have them kiss. Away!
(Exeunt. f>eENE VIII. Soutltwar!e. Alarum and retreat. Enter CADE and all Ais rl,bblement. • Catk. Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! kill and knock down! throw them into Thames! [Sound a parley.] What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to sound retreat or parley, when I command them kill?
Enter BUCKINGHAM andOldCLIFFORD, attended.
Fish Street and Saint Magnus. Detail from plan of London (c.IS6o-157o) by Ralph Agas 43 at jar. Quarrelling amongst themselves.
45 start. Sudden attack. 48 'Villiago /' Villain.
872
Buck. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee: Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king Unto the commons whom thou hast misled; And here pronounce free pardon to them all That will forsake thee and go home in peace. I () Clif. What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent, And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you; Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths? Who loves the king and will embrace his pardon, Fling up his cap, and say • God save his majesty!' Who hateth him and honours not his father, Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake, Shake he his we.apon at us and pass by. A ll. God save the king! God save the king! Cade. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave? And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? will you needs be hanged with your pardons about your necks? Hath. my sword therefore broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the White Hart in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given out these arms till you had recovered your ancient freedom: but you are all recreants and dastards, and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. Let them break your backs with burthens, take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters before your faces: for me, I will make shift for one; and so, God's curse light upon you all! All. We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade! Clif. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him? Will he conduCt you through the heart of France, And make the meanest of you earls and dukes? Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to ; 40 N or knows he how to live but by the spoil, Unless by robbing of your friends and us. • Were't not a shame, that whilst you live at jar, The fearful French, whom you late vanquished, • Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you? Methinks already in this civil broil I see them lording it in London streets, • Crying' Villiago r nnto all they meet. Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry 49 Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. To France, to France, and get what you have lost; Spare England, for it is your native coast: Henry hath mClney, you are strong and manly; God on our side, doubt not of viCtory.
Act IV Scene IX KING HENRY VI Part II A It. A Clifford! a Clifford! we '11 follow the king and Clifford. Cade. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred mischiefs and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me, for here is no staying. In despite of the devils and hell, have through the very middest of you! and heavens and honour be witness that no want of resolution in me, but only my followers' base and ignominious treasons, [Ext't. makes me betake me to my heels. Buck. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him; And he that brings his head unto the king Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward. 70 [Exeunt some oftkent. Follow me, soldiers: we'll devise a mean To reconcile you aU unto the king. [Exeunt. SCENE IX,
SOll1td trumpets.
Kenilworth Castle. Enter KING, QUEEN, and ort the terrace.
SOMERSET,
King'. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne, And could command no more content than I? No sooner was 1 crept out of my cradle But I was made a king, at nine months old. Was never subjed long'd to be a king As I do long and wish to be a su bj ed.
Cade's followers with halters around their necks. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1f46 26 gallowglasses. Heavily armed Irish foot-soldiers.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD. Buck. Health and glad tidings to your rna.iesty! King. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surprised? Or is he but retired to make him strong? Enter, below, multitudes, with halters about their necks. Clif. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield; 10 And humbly thus, with halters on their necks, ExpeCt your highness' doom, of life or death. King. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates, To entertain my vows of thanks and praise ! Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives And show'd how well you love your prince and country: Continue still in this so good a mind, And Henry, though he be infortunate, Assure yourselves, will never be unkind: And so, with thanks and pardon to you all, 20 I do dismiss you to your several countries. All. God save the king! God save the king! Enter a Messenger. Mess. Please it your grace to be advertised The Duke of York IS newly come from Ireland, And with a puissant and a mighty power • Of gallowglasses and stout kerns Is marching hitherward in proud array, And still proclaimeth, as he comes along. His arms are only to remove from thee The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.
873
KING HENRY VI Part II Act IV Scene X 4-5 laid for me. On the look out for me.
Kittg. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd; 31 Like to a ship that, having 'scaped a tempest, Is straightway calm'd and boarded with a pirate: But now is Cade driven back, his men dispersed ; And now is York in arms to second him. I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him, And ask him what's the rea.'iOn of these arms. Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower; And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither, U nti! his army be dismiss'd from him. 40 S om. My lord, I'll yield myself to prison willingly, Or unto death, to do my country good. Kittg. In any case, be not too rough in terms; For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language. Buck. I will, my lord; and doubt not so to deal As all things shall redound unto your good. King. Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better; For yet may England curse my wretched reign. [FlourUlt.. Exeunt.
9 sallet. Salad.
12 smlet. Helmet. 13 brown bill. Pike.
27 fee simple. i.e. land of which he is the outright owner.
30-31 eat iron ... ostrich. A popular misconception in Elizabethan England - that ostriches could eat nails and other iron objects.
Ostrich eating nails. Illustration from a 15th century manuscript •
• • •
X.
Kellt. Iden's gardm. Eltter CADE. Cade. Fie on ambition! fie on myself, that have a sword, and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in these woods and dilrst not peep out, for all the country is laid for me; but now am I so hungry that if I might have a lease of my life for a thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore, on a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to see if I can eat grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word' sallel' was born to do me good: for many a time, but for a sallet, my brain-pan had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time, when I have been dry and brAvely marching, it hath served me instead of a quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet' must serve me to feed on. ScENE
Enter IDEN. Iden. Lord, who would live turnloiled in the court, And may enjo}r such quiet walks as these? This small inheritance my father left me 20 Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy. I seek not to wax great by others' waning, Or gather wealth, I care not, with what envy : Sufficeth that I have mai.ntains my state And sends the poor well pleased from my gate. Cade. Here's the lord of the soil come to • seize me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave. Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the king by carry• ing my head to him: but 1'11 make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part. Iden. Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, I know thee not; why, then, should I betray thee? Is't not enough to break into my garden, And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds, Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner, But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms 'f 874
Act V Scene I KING HENRY VI Part II
Cade. Brave thee! ay, by the best blood that • ever was broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat no meat these five days; yet, come thou and thy five men, and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray God I may never eat grass more. Itien. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands, That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent, Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man. Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine, See if thou canst outface me with thy looks: Set limb to limb, and thou art far the lesser; SO Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon; My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast; And if mine arm be heaved in the air, Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth. As for words, whose greatness answers words, Let this my sword report what speech forbears. Cade. By my valour, the most complete champion that ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge:, or cut not out the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thOll mayst be turned to hobnails. [Here tlteyfiglr.t. Cadefalls. 0, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain me: let ten thousand devils come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have hit, and I'ld defy them all Wither, garden; and be henceforth a burying-place to all that do dwell in this house, because the unconquered soul of Cade is fled. 70 Itien. Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor? Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed, And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead: Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point; But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat, To emblaze the honour that thy master got. Cade. Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, not by valour. [Dies. 81 Iden. How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge. Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee; And as I thrust thy body in with my sword, So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell. Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave, And there cut off thy most ungracious head; Which I will bear in triumph to the king, 8g Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. [Exit.
40 beard. Insult .
Iden: 'Let this my sword report what speech forbears'. Drawing of Cade and Iden by John Thurston (17441822)
ACT V. SCENE
I.
Fields bet-ween Dariford and Blackluath..
Enter YORK, and Itis army of Irislt, with. drtt1lt andcoloun. York. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right, Al'ld pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head: Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright,
875
KING HENRY VI Part II Act V Scene I 5 sancta majestas. Sacred Majesty.
11 jloW6r-de-Iuce. Fleur-de-lis, the heraldic emblem of France.
2& Ajax Telamonius. On the death of Achilles both Ulysses and Ajax claimed his armour~ When the armour was awarded to Ulysses, Ajax lost his reason and in a frenzy killed a flock of sheep believing them to be his enemies who were insulting him.
4& Saint George's fi·eld. An open space on the south bank of the Thames between Southwark and Lambeth.
St. George's Field. From Fairthovnes map of London, 1658
To entertain great England's lawful king. • Ah! saneta majestas, who would not buy thee dear? Let them obey that know not how to rule; This hand was made to handle nought but gold. I cannot give due attion to my words, Except a sword or sceptre balance it: A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul, 10 • On which I'll toss the flower-de-Iuce of France.
Enter BUCKINGHAiV. Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me? The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble. Buck. York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well. York. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting. Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure? Buck. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, To know the reason of these arms in peace; Or why thou, being a subjeCt as I am, Againlit thy oath and true allegiance sworn, 20 Should raise so great a power without his leave, Or dare to bring thy force so near the court. York. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great: 0, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, I am so angry at these abjeCt terms; • And now, like Ajax Telamonius, On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury. I am far better born than is the king, More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts: But I must make fair weather yet a while, 30 Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me, That I have given no answer all this while; My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. The cause why I have brought 'this army hither Is to remove proud Somerset from the king, Seditious to his grace and to the state. Buck. That is too much presumption on thy part:
But if thy arms be to no other end, The king hath yielded unto thy demand: 40 The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower. York. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner? Buck. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner. York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers. Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves; • Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field, You shall have pay and every thing you wish. And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons, As pledges of my fealty and love; SO I'll send them all as willing as I live: Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have, Is his to use, so Somerset may die. Buck. York, I commend this kind submission: We twain will go into his highness' tent.
Enter KING and Attendants. K inc. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us, That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm? York. In all submission and humility York doth present himself unto your highness.
876
Act V Scene I KING HENRY VI Part II
King. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring? 60 York. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence, And fi~ht against that monstrous rebel Cade, Who Slnce I heard to be discomfited.
Enter IDEN, witlt CADE'S luad. I tkn. If one so rude and of so mean condition May pass into the presence of a king, Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head, The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew. King. The head of Cadet Great God, how just art Thou! 0, let me view his visage, being dead, That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him? 71 Iden. I was, an't like your majesty. King. How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree' lden. Alexander Iden, that's my name; A }>COr esquire of Kent, that love... his king. Buck. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss He were created knight for his good service. King-. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels.] Rise up a knight. We give thee for reward a thousand marks, And will that thou henceforth attend on us. 80 Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, And never live but true unto his liege! [Rises. Enter QUEEN and SoMERSET. See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen: Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke. Queen. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head, But boldly stand and front him to his face. York. How now! is Somerset at liberty? Then, York, unloose thy 10ng-imprison'd thoughts, And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart. Shall I endure the sight of Somerset? go False ki~! why hast thou broken faith with me, Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse? King did I call thee? no, thou art not king, Not fit to govern and rule multitudes, Which darest not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor. That head of thine doth not become a CroWIl; • Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff, And not to grace an awful princely sceptre. That gold must round engirt these brows of mine, • Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear, 100 Is able with the change to kill and cure. Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up And with the same to act controlling laws. Give place: by heaven, thou shalt rule no more O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler. Som. 0 monstrous traitor 1 I arrest thee, York, Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown: Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace. York. Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these, If they can brook I bow a knee to man. lIO Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail: [Exit Attendant. I know, ere they will have me go to ward,
King-.
Knighting of Iden. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1846
97 palmer's staff. Pilgrim's staff.
100 Achilles' spear. Telephus who had been wounded by Achilles' spear could not be cured till rust from the same spear had been put on his wound.
877
Act V Scene I KING HENRY VI Part II They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement. Quem. Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain, To say if that the bastard boys of York Shall be the surety for their traitor father. [Exit Bllckillgi4am. • York. 0 blood-bespltted Neapolitan, Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge! The sons of York, thy betters in their birth I • Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those 120 That for my surety will refuse the boys!
117 Neapolitan. Margaret's father claimed the title of King of Naples. 120 bane. Destruction.
144-148 stake, bears, chains, bear-baiting. Warwick's staff.
bad~
CUTS. Image is that of was a bear and a raaged
Enter EDWARD aNd RICHARD. See where they come: I'll warrant they'll make it good. ENter old CLIFFORD and !tis Son. QueeN. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king! [Kneels. York. I thank thee, Clifford: say, what news with thee? Nay, do not fright us with an angry look: Weare thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again: For 07 mlstaking so, we pardon thee. Cui. This is my king, York, I do not mistake; But thou mistakest me much to think I do: 130 To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad? King. Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour Makes him oppose himself against his king. Cli!o He is a traitor; let him to the Tower, And chop away that factious pate of his. Queen. He is arrested, but will not obey; His sons, he says, shall give their words for him. York. Will you not, sons? Edw. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons I40 shall. CUY. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! York. Look in a glass, and call thyimage so: I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor. • Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, That with the very shaking of their chains • They may astonish these fell-lurking curs: Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me. Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALISBURY.
Cli/. Are these thybears? we'll bait thy bears to death, • And manacle the bear-ward in their chains, If thou darest bring them to the baiting place. 150 Rich.. Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur Run back and bite, because he was withheld; Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw, Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried: And such a piece of service will you do, If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick. Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, As crooked in thy manners as thy shape ! York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.
Badge of the Warwick family. Engraving by F.W. Fairholt from J.0. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65
146 fell-lurking. Lying in wait to attack someone. 149 bear-ward. Bear-keeper.
Opposite: Iden is created a knight. Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, 1773-74
879
KING HENRY VI Part II Act V Scene I
167 frosty head. Silver haired. 174 mickle. Great. 187 reave. Bereave. 191 sophister. One skilled in rhetoric. 200 buTgonet. Helmet.
•
•
A burgonet. Engraving by F.W. Fairholt from J.O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespe.are's works, 1853-63
215 stigmatic. i.e. a 'deformed person' and a 'criminal who has been branded'.
•
•
•
•
880
Cli.f. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves. 160 Kitlg. Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair, Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son! What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian, And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles? 0, where is faith? 0, where is loyalty! I f it be banish'd from the frosty head, Where shall it find a harboul in the earth? \Vilt thou go dig a grave to find out war, And shame thine honourable age with blood? 170 Why art thou old, and want'st experience? Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it? For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me That bows unto the grave with mickle age. Sal. My lord, I have consider'd with myself The title of this most renowned duke; And III my conscience do repute his grace The rightful heir to England's royal seat. King. Hast thou not sworn aJlegiance unto me? Sal. I have. 180 KinK. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath? Sal. It is great" sin to swear unto a sin, But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. \Vho can be bound by any solemn vow To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, To force a spotless virgin's chastity, To reave the orphan of his patrimony, To wring the widow from her custom'd right, And have no other reason for this wrong But that he was bound by a solemn oath? 190 Queen.. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. Kiltg-. Call Backingham, and bid him artn himself. York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, I am resolved for death or dignity. C lif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true. War. You were best to go to bed and dream again, To keep thee from the tempest of the field. Clif. I am resolved to be.ar a gre.ater storm Than any thou canst conjure up to-day; And that I'll write upon thy burgonet, 200 Might I but know thee by thy household badge. War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest, The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff, This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet, As on a mountain top the cedar shows That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm, Even to affright thee with the view thereof. C li/. And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy hear And tread it under foot with all contempt, nespite the bear-ward that protects the bear. 210 y. Clif. And so to arms, vic10rious father, To quell the rebels and their complices. Rick. Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst tell.
Act V Scene II KING HENRY VI Part II
R kit. If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell. [Exeunt uwraiJ7' ScENE
21 fast. i.e. so entrenched an enemy. 27 lay. Wager, stake.
II. Saillt Albalt's.
Alarums to tlte battle. Enter WARWtCIC. IVar. Clifford of Cumberland. 'tis Warwick cans: And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum And dead men's cries do fill the empty air. Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with ,me : Proud northern lord; Clifford of Cumberland, Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.
28 La fin ... a!Uvres. The end crowns every work.
3S part. Party. 41 premiudflames. The conflagration that was foretold.
Enter YORK. How now, my noble lord! what, all afoot·? York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, But match to match I have encountet'd him 10 And made a prey for C'.1rrion kites and crows Even of the bonny beast he loved so welL E,lIer old CLIFFORD. Of one or both of us the time is come. York. Hold, 'Varwick, seek thee out sonle other chase, For I myself must hunt this deer to death. War. Then, nobly, York; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st. As I intend, Qifford, to thrive to-day, It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. [Exit. Cli.!. What seest thou in me, York! why dost thou pause? York. With thy brave bearing should I be in War.
~~
w
• But that thou art so fast mine enemy. C lif. N or should thy prowess want praise and esteem, But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason. York. &> let it help me now against thy sword As I injustice and true right express it. Clif. My solll and body on the aetion both! • York. A dreadful lay ! Address thee instantly. [They fight, and Cliffordfalls. • Clif. Latin couronne les reuvres. [9ies. York. Thlts war hath given thee peace, for thou art .still Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will! 30 [Exit.
E,zter young CLIFFORD. Y. C lif. Shame and confusion! all is on the rout; Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds 'Vhere it should guard. 0 war, thou son of hell, \Vhom angry heavens do make their minister, • Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part Hot coals of vengeance! Let no soldier fiy. He that is truly dedicate to war Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself Hath not essentially but by circumstance The name of valour. [Seeing his deadfatlter] 0, let the vile world end, 40 • And the premised flames of the last day Knit earth and heaven together! N ow let the general trumpet blow his blast,
881
KING HENRY VI Part II Act V Scene III 48 chair-days. Reference to the more sedentary life of the elderly. 59 wild Medea. Medea fled with Jason after she had helped him win the Golden Fleece. She killed her brother, Absyrtus, and threw the pieces of his body into the sea so that her father's pursuit of the fugitives would be delayed whilst he stopped to pick up the pieces.
Particularities and petty sounds To cease! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve The silver livery of advised age, • And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus To die in ruffian battle? Even at this sight 49 My heart is turn'd to stone: and while 'tis mine, It shall be stony. York not our old men spares; No more will I their babes: tears virginal Shall be to me even as the dew to fire, And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims Shan to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. Henceforth 1 will not have to do with pity: Meet I an infant of the house of York, Into as many gobbets will I cut it • As wild Medea young A bsyrtus did: In cruelty will I seek out my fame. 60 Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house: • As did lEneas old Anchises bear, So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders; But then }Eneas bare a living load, Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. [Exit, beari1tg l!I1/us/ather.
Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed. Rick. So, lie thou there; For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset • Hath made the wizard famous in his death. 69 Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrat~flll still: Priests pray for er.emies, but princes kill. [Exit.
Fight: excursions.
E1tfer KING, QUEEN, and
others. Jason with Medea. Detail from a painting by JeanFrancois Detroy (1679-1752) 62 Aeneas . .. bear. After the fall of Troy Aeneas carried his father, Anchises, on his shoulders to safety.
&9 the wizardjamous. In I. iv. 38 the spirit had warned that Somerset should 'shun castles'.
73 oulTun the heavens. Escape our destiny.
Queen. Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away! • King. Can we outrun the heavens?good Margaret, stay. Queen. What are you made of? you 'U nor fight nor fly: Now is it manhood, wisdom and defence, To give the enemy way, and to secure us By what we can, which can no more but fiy. [A larum a/ar off. If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom Of all our fortunes: but if we haply scape, As well we may, ifnot through your neglect, 80 We shall to London get, where YOll are loved And where this breach now in our fortunes made May readily be stopp'd. Re-eltier young CLIFFORD. Y. Clif. But that my heart's on future mischief set, I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly: But fly you must; un curable discomfit Reigns In the hearts of all our present parts. Away, for your relief! and we will live To see their day and them our fortune give: Away, my lord, away! [Exnmt. SCENE
III.
Fields near St Alban's.
Alarum.
Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and Soldiers, with drum and colours. York.
882
Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
Act V Scene III KING HENRY VI Part II
•
•
That winter lion, who in rage forgets Aged contusions and all brush of time, And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, Repairs him with occasion? This happy day Is not itself, nor have we won one foot, If Salisbury be lost. Rick. My noble father, Three times to-day I holp him to his horse, Three times bestrid him; thrice I led him off, PerSuaded him from any further aa : YO But still, where danger was, still there I met him; And like rich hangings in a homely house, So was his will in his old feeble body. But, noble as he is, look where he comes.
Enter SALISBURY. Sal. Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day; By the mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard : God knows how long it is I have to live; And it hath pleased him that three times to-day You have defended me from imminent death. Well, lords, we have not got that which we have: 'Tis not enough our foes are ·this time fled, 21 Being opposites of such repairing nature. York. I know our safety is to follow them; For, as I hear, the king is fled to London, To call a present court of parliament. Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth. What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them? War. After them! nay, before them, if we can. Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day: Saint Alban's battle won by famous York 30 Shall be eternized in all age to come. Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all: And more such d~s as these .to us befall!
[Exeunt.
5 Repairs . .. occasion. Rises to the occasion.
22 opp{)sites . . . nature. Opponents possessing great powers of recuperation.
Fields near St Albans. Engraving from Old England,
18 54
883
THE THIRD PART OF
King Henry VI
THE THIRD PART of this trilogy is less varied and interesting than the Second; it had such refractory and (to us) more monotonous material to deal with in the ding-dong feuds, slanging-matches and battles of the Wars of the Roses. The dramatist did a most competent job in licking this elongated Chronicle material into shape, foreshortening periods of time for dramatic effect, etc. Nor did this mean that the Third Part was any the less effective with the Elizabethans - it may even have been more so. For Shakespeare gave them a somewhat different mixture and turned out a revengeplay, a kind that was highly popular at the time, with Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy and his lost 'Hamlet'. At this same time the practical actor, with his eye on box-office appeal, was turning out another revenge-play, Titus Andronicus (going one better than Kyd in horrors), which has many analogies with 3 Henry VI. Here revenge is a leit-motiv: Clifford specifically declares his motive for killing York's boy, Rutland, in that York killed Clifford's father; the sons of York declare revenge upon Queen Margaret, for York's death; so that here we have the murder of Henry VI in the Tower, while we can look forward to his son's murder at Tewkesbury in Richard III. Richard's character is being carefully prepared here and headed for the next play Shakespeare has in mind. The trilogy is to become a quartet, or tetralogy. At the same time as we find this play less likable than contemporaries did, we note further improvement in the verse. This is not simply due to a better text, it is that the actor is developing rapidly as a dramatist. Fine, and very long, speeches are characteristic of this play - the most famous being poor Henry VI's soliloquy reflecting on the misery of his position, the horror of the war and how much better it would be to be a simple country swain. (He would have done better as such - still better as a cleric, for he was quite well educated and no fool: debilitated, and suffering from breakdowns, he was just not up to his job.) These speeches are developed in accordance with the proper rules of school rhetoric; inventio, vituperatio, and all that. Henry's is a refreshing contrast in its kindly preference for rustic simplicity: he is the only person who disclaims and opposes such motives as revenge, but is ineffective and therefore falls victim. His very weakness is pointed out as a prime cause of the troubles, as it was. But the effective power-seekers are - or are to
884
Introduction
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI Henry VI who reigned I4zz-6I and I470-7I
be - no better off. The most malign among them, Richard, will receive his due in the next play: meanwhile, he says to Warwick: Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, Broached with the steely point of Clifford's lance; And in the very pangs of death he cried, Like to a dismal clangor heard from far, 'Warwick! Revenge! Brother, revenge my death!' This recalls Lodge's reminiscence of Kyd's original 'Hamlet': 'the ghost which cried so miserably at the Theatre [i.e. in Shoreditch], like an oyster-wife, "Hamlet, revenge!'" The most popular play of 1591 and 1592 was The Spanish Tragedy, and in the third part of Henry VI,ve find the actor-dramatist competing with Kyd's revenge-play. The word itself occurs more frequently than in any other of his plays, far more than in Hamlet. But what an almighty development was to take place between this and that!
Themes. Thus the dominant theme of 3 Henry VI is clearly revenge. Nemesis followed for the perpetrators of these crimes. The House of Lancaster paid for Henry IV's murder of Richard I I in the Y orkist murders of Henry VI and his son. The Y orkists paid for theirs in the killing of Richard, Duke of York, and later on Clarence at the hands of his brother Edward IV. Then Richard III outdid them all with his murders not only of Henry VI but of his brother's great friend Hastings and his brother's children in the Tower. The concept 'Machiavellian' is first applied to him in this play, in a splendid long speech which develops his character and foretells the future: I can add colours to the chameleon, Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, 885
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI
Introduction
(cf. The Two Gentlemen of Verona shortly to come) And set the murderous Machiavel to school. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? Tut! were it further off, I'll pluck it down. And he did! - a remarkable achievement in its malign way, aided by the chance of his brother's early death. The play is full of the sudden turns and changes of fortune, the ups and downs of each side in turn - and indeed the wheel of Fortune is a recurring image. This was the dominant theme with Kyd, and witnesses again to his early influence, to which Ben Jonson testified; Kyd, Marlowe and the actor were writing in some proximity. The play again has notable reflections, virtual quotations from Marlowe. Here is one from
T amburlaine: How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. Another line And we are graced with wreaths of victory comes from The Massacre at Paris, which is also of this very time, for it ends with the murder of Henri III in 1589. A theme which everyone has commented upon is that very close to Shakespeare's mind and heart: the breakdown of social order and the release of man's inherent aggressiveness and cruelty with the collapse of authority and the impotence of sovereign rule. For all the sympathy with which he is drawn as a man, Henry VI is not let off the imputation and the responsibility that is laid at his door - by both sides, most bitterly by Queen Margaret, who is driven to fury by his incapacity. We watch her becoming the virago she is destined to be in Richard II[. With the anarchy that ensues comes the degeneration of morality, the prevalence of perjury, the breaking of oaths and unscrupulous shifts from side to side. It is the young Richard who proclaims openly, An oath is of no moment, being not took Before a true and lawful magistrate That hath authority over him that swears. Henry had none, but did usurp the place.
So the Yorkists break their oath to Henry, and the compromise he sought to arrange by making York Regent, while retaining the title merely of king for his own life. But neither did this arrangement appeal to Queen :Margaret and her son. Both sides were eager to fight and kill: it is a bloody play, and there is much stabbing and killing on stage. At one point we have the horror: 'Enter a Son that hath killed his Father, with the body in his arms', followed shortly by: 'Enter a Father that hath killed his Son, with the body in his arms.' It is like The Spanish Tragedy, or the horrors of Titus Andronicus with which the actor-dramatist out-did that and won success by it. In short, when authority goes politics becomes an open, ruthless power-struggle, 886
Introduction
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI
which it is the whole purpose of politics to direct in a civilised manner, to canalise men's aggressiveness into beneficent courses, for the good of society. As the Prince of Wales says:
If that be right which Warwick says is right, There is no wrong, but every thing is right. (The Prince was to be killed at Tewkesbury, Warwick at Barnet within a month of each other in 1471.) Not that Shakespeare has any illusions about the people, here as anywhere else. King Henry says, Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust, Such is the lightness of you common men. He goes on to beseech them: But do not break your oaths ... In vain, of course. For what is the point of beseeching? Power is what they obey, the better if dressed up in a little brief authority, to mitigate the struggle for survival at the bottom of all life. Of course, there are times in history when nothing can be done perhaps Henry VI's long minority and reign formed one of them; then the naked struggle for survival surfaces in all its reptilian horror.
Scenes. A respite from the struggle is given us in only one or two scenes. Poor Henry takes time off from the battlefield to moralise like the countryman he fain would be: What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night. This Cotswold image will come to mind in the country song that ends Love's Labour's Lost. How much happier the King would be if he were but a country shepherd tending his flock: So many days my ewes have been with young: So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean; So many years ere I shall shear the fleece . . . Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroidered canopy To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? Or, in modern terms, to politicians, fearing the treachery of colleagues . . . . the shepherd's homely curds,
887
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI
Introduction
His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates.
Queen Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV. Engraving (from an old print, Kerrich Collection) from Pictorial History of England, Vol II, r8s6
Here speak the preferences of the countryman, who achieved success in London, but never lost touch with the country and preferred to return to it. Another scene that is a let-up from the horrors of high politics and the powerstruggle at the top - compare the bloodshed through which Hitler and Stalin, and many others, waded to power in recent times - is the scene in which Edward IV seeks to win Elizabeth Woodville, Lady Grey, for mistress and, failing that, woos her for wife. A delightful scene in itself, it is one of the play's quick changes. Quickest of all, and more important to the action, is that in which Warwick, on embassy to Louis XI to arrange a marriage for Edward IV to a French princess, receives the humiliating news of his marriage (his wife was a Lancastrian widow, by the way). Warwick immediately reverses course and goes over to Queen ~argaret and her son: they begin to tread the Calvary that leads to Barnet and Tewkesbury - the Y orkist triumph.
Personal It is from this play that comes the line addressed to Queen :\fargaret,
o tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide! which Greene parodied with his 'Tiger's heart wrapped in a player's hide', in his attack on Shakespeare and his profession. We need say no more about the matter, except that it is one more indication of the success these plays achieved, which shortly won for him the notice and then the patronage of Southampton. Shortly, too, we find a line from the play reflected in a Sonnet: Clarence's I will not ruinate my father's house, is echoed in the early sonnet: Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate Which to repair should be thy chief desire. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick. Engraving from Old England, Vol I, r8S4
Here is an image, Like one that stands upon a promontory And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, And chides the sea, that sunders him from thence which has an echo in a later sonnet: Let this sad interim like the ocean be Which parts the shore, where two contracted new Come daily to the banks ... The thought is different, the image similar. The rare word 'promontory' is contem-
888
Introduction
THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI
poraneously repeated in Titus Andronicus. One would like to know where he had been touring recently: Dover?, as we know the Chamberlain's men did later. Warwickshire is to the fore in the last Act, and places named which would be familiar to him along the route from London. We have Southam, near Banbury, Dunsmore upon Watling Street, and Daventry, given its old pronunciation of Daintry. Sir John Somerville appears, of the Warwickshire Catholic family which had got into trouble in 1583 for conspiracy against the Queen; this had involved the Ardens, also Catholics. Richard's murder of Henry VI in the Tower brings up familiar associations to Shakespeare's mind : So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf; So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece, And next his throat unto the butcher's knife. This, significantly enough, suggests acting, for it is immediately followed by What scene of death hath Roscius now to act? Amid all the metropolitan horrors, as again notably with Titus, the countryman speaks - as never with Marlowe - in out-of-door sports: several references to hawking and falconry; we have a brace of greyhounds Having the fearful-flying hare in sightshortly to be given extended treatment in the description of hare-coursing inserted into Venus and Adoms. Park-keepers in a chase in the North discover the poor wandering King, who has crossed the Border from Scotland: 1st Keeper:
Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves, For through this laund [glade] anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, Culling the principal of all the deer.
2nd Keeper: I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. I
st Keeper:
That cannot be: the noise of thy cross-bow Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost.
The reading, the classical quotations are more than ever from Ovid, a chief favourite with Marlowe too, and from the Bible, less in favour with Marlowe. And we have glimpses of subjects in mind that were later to fonn plays, especially Julius Caesar. Text. An actors' version of the play, suitably cut, was printed in 1595 as the Quarto,
The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, and the Death of good King Henry the Sixth, etc. This, with the Company's transcript from the author's manuscript, formed the basis of the fuller Folio text. Each supplied omissions and emendations from the other, and added dubious readings and errors to the author's natural inconsistencies over such a large canvas. The author seems to have added actors' names he had in mind: in this play, Gabriel, presumably Gabriel Spencer, whom Ben Jonson killed in a duel; also 'Humfrey' and 'Sinklo' or Sinkler, who is named also as appearing in The Taming of the Shrew. 889
THE THIRD PART OF
KING HENRY VI. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. KING HENRY the Sixth. EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES, his son. LEWIS X 1. KING OF FRANCE. DUKE OF SOMERSET. DUKE OF EXETER. EARL OF OXFORD. EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. EARL OF WESTMORELAND. LoRD CLIFFORD. RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Duke of York. EDW ARD, Earl of March, afterwardS}" King Edward IV., EDMUND, Earl of Rutland, his GEORGE, afterwards Duke of Clarence, sons. RICHARD, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, DUKE OF NORFOLK. MARQUESS OF MONTAGUE. EARL OF WARWICK. EARL OF PEMBROKE. LoRD HASTINGS•
LoRD STAFFORD. SIR JOHN MORTIMER, uncles to the Duke of SIR HUGH MORTIMER, York. HENRY, Earl of Richmond, a youth. LORD RIVERS, brother to Lady Grey_ SIR WILLIAM STANLEY. SIR JOHN MONTGOMERY. SIR JOHN SOMERVILLE. Tutor to Rutland. Mayor of York. Lieutenant of the Tower. A Nobleman. Two Keepers. A Huntsman. A Son that has killed his father. A Father that has killed his son.
1
QUEEN MARGARET. LADY GRE-', afterwards Queen to Edward IV. BONA, sister to the French Queen. Soldiers, A ttendants, Messengers, Watchmen, &c. SCENE: England and France.
• A bullet beside a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite column
ACT 1. SCENE I.
London.
The Parliament-house.
Alarum. Enter the DUKE OF YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONT AGUE, \VARWICK, and Soldiers. IVar. I wonder how the king escaped our hands. York. While we pursued the horsemen of the north, He slily stole away and left his men: \Vhereat the great Lord of Northumberland, \Vhose warlike ears could never brook retreat, Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, • Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. Ed'lV. Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, 10 Is either slain or wQunded dangerously; • I cleft his beayer with a downright blow: That this is true, father, behold his blood. Alout. And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. R ieh. Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. rThrowing down the Duke of S omersefshead. York. Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset! Nod. Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
7-9 Lord Clifford . .. slain. This account of the death of Clifford conflicts with that in 2 Henry VI. n.ii, where he was killed by York. 12 beaver. Face-guard of a helmet. Opposite: Death of Warwick. Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, 1773-4
891
KING HENRY VI Part III Act I Scene I SO They go up. To the chair of state or throne where York seats himself.
47 Warwick . .. bt!lls. Bells were fastened to the leis of hawks in the belief that this made them more fierce. 61 gentle. Noble.
62 poltroons. Cowards.
Rick. Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. 20 War. And so do I. ViCtorious Prince of York, Before I see thee seated in that throne Which now the house of Lancaster usurps., I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. This is the palace of the fearful king, And this the regal seat: possess it, York; For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs'. York. Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will;
For hither we have broken in by force. Noif. We'll all assist you; he that flies shall iliL ~ York. Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. [They go up. War. And when the king comes, offer him no violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. York. The queen this day here holds her parliament, But little thinks we shall be of her council: By words or blows here let us win our right. Rich. Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. War. The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, 40 And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice Hath made us by-words to our enemies. York. Then leave me not, my lords: be resolute; I mean to take possession of my right. War. Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, • Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. I'Il plant Plantagenet, .root him up who dares: Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English Cl'own.
FlotJIrish.
Elder KING HENRY, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, alia the rest.
K. Hen. My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, SO Even in the chair of state: belike he means, Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. Earl of N orthumberIand, he slew thy father, And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. Nortk. If I be not, heavens be revenged on me ! Cli/. The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. West. What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. 60 • K. Hen. Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. • Cli/. Patience is for poltroons, such as he: He durst not sit there, had your father lived. My gracious lord, here in the parliament Let us assail the family of York. North. Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. K. Hen. Ah, know you not the city favours them,
892
Act I Scene I KING HENRY VI Part III
And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? Ext!. But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. K. Hen. Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, 70 • To make a shambles of the parliament-house! Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats Shall be the war that Henry means to U!;e. Thou faCtious Duke of York, descend my throne, And kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; I am thy sovereign. York. I am thine. Ext!. For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. • York. 'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. • EXt!. Thy father was a traitor to the crown. War. Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown [n following this usurping Henry. 8I Clif. Whom should he follow but his natural king? War. True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. K. Hen. And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne.? York. It must and shall be so: contentthyself. War. Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. West. He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. War. And Warwick shall dispro....e it. You forget 89 That we are those which chased you from the field
King Henry: ':VIy lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits .. .' King (David Warner), York (Donald Sinden) and Warwick (Brewster Mason), Royal Shakespeare Co, 19 64
71 shambles. Slaughter-house. 78 earldom. York inherited the earldom of March through his mother, and through this laid claim to the throne.
79 Thy father . . . crown. Richard Earl of Cambridge executed for conspiracy; see Henry V, n.ii.
893
KING HENRY VI Part III Act I Scene I 10S Duke of York. York inherited the title from Edward, elder brother of the Earl of Cambridge. 110 sith. Since. 111 lord protector. i.e. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.
894
And slew your fathers, and with colours spread March'd through the city to the palace gates. Nortlt. Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall me it. West. Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, Thy kinsmen and thy friends, I'll have more lives Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. Clif. Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, I send thee, Warwick, such l\ messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir. 100 War. Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats ! York. Will you we show our title to the crown? If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. K. Hen. What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown! • Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: I am the son of Henry the Fifth, Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop And seized upon their towns and provinces. • War. Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all lIO • K. Hen. The lord protedor lost it, and not J: When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. R iclt.. You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. Edw. Sweet father, do so; !'et it on your head. Mont. Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. R iclt.. Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. York. Sons, peace I K. Hen. Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. 120 War. Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; And be you silent and attentive too, For he that interrupts him shall not live. K. Hm. Think st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, Wherein my grandsire and my f.'lther sat? No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords! My title's good, and better far than his. 130 War. Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. K. Hen. Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. York. 'Twas by rebellion against his king. K. Hen. [Astile] I know not what to say; my title's weak.Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? York. What then? K. Hen. An if he may, then am llawfulking; For Richard, in the view of many lords, Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, \Vhose heir my father was, and I am his. I~O York. He rose against him, being his sovereign, And made him to resign his crown perforce. War. Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'&'
Act I Scene I KING HENRY VI Part III Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? Exe. No; for he could not so resign his crown But that the next heir should succeed and reign. K. Hen. Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? Exe. His is the right, and therefore pardon me. York. Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? E.re. My conscience tells me he is lawful king. K. Hm. [Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. 151 Nortlt. Plant.agenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. War. Deposed he shaIl be, in despite of all. • North. Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, Can set the duke up in despite of me. . Clif. .King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: 160 May that ground gape and swaIlow me alive, Where I shaIl kneel to him that slew my father! K. Hen. 0 Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! York. Henry of L'tncaster, resign thy crown. What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? ~Var. Do right unto this princely Duke of York, Or I will fill the house with armed men. And over the chair of state, where now he sits, Write up his title with usurping blood. [He stamps withhis/oot, and the Soldiers show themselves. K. Hen. My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: 170 Let me for this my life-time reign as king. York. Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, And thou' shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. K in.g-. I am content: Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. Clif. What wrong is this unto the prince your son! War. What good is this to England and himself! West. Base, fearful and despairing Henry ! Cli/. How hast thou injured both thyself and us! West. I cannot stay to hear these articles. North. Nor I. 181 Clif. Come, cousin, let us telI the queen these news. West. Farewell, faint.-hearted and degenerate king, In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. North. Be thou a prey unto the house of York, • And die in bands for this unmanly deed! CIif. In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! [Exermt Nortlt.., Clijf., and West. War. Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. Exe. They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. 190 K. Hen. Ah, Exeter! War. Why should you sigh, my lord? K. Hen. Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son,
155 southern power. Northumberland, a Percy, came from the north.
Westminster Hall: treaty between Henry VI and Richard, Duke of York. Engraving from Old England, 1854
188 bands. In bondRie.
895
KING HENRY VI Part III Act I Scene I 233 such head. Such power. 239 narrow seas. Straits of Dover.
Vhom I unnaturally shall disinherit. But be it as it may: I here entail The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; Conditionally, that here thou take an oath To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, To honour me as thy king and sovereign, And neither by treason nor hostility To seek to put me down and reign th%f!lf. ~oo York. This oath I willingly take and will perform. rVar. Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him. K. Hen. And long live thou and these thy forward som;! York. Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. Ext'. Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! [Se1t1ut. Here tllt'Y come down. York. Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. fV,lr. And I'll keep London with my soldiers. Noif. And I to Norfolk with my followers. 1I101lt. And I unto the sea from whence I came. [Exeunt York and his Sons, Warwick, Norfolk, lIlontague, their Soldiers, and Attendants. K. Hen. A:ld I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. 210
E,tter QUJJ.EN
Peggy Ashcroft as Queen :\largaret, Royal Shake.speare Co,1964
896
MARGARET and WALES.
the
PRINCE OF
Exe. Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: I'll steal away. K. Hen. Exeter, so will I. Q. Mar. Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. K. Hen. Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. Q. Mar. Who can be patient in such extremes? Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid. And never seen thee, never borne thee son, Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father! Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I. 220 Or felt that pain which I did for him once, Or nourish'd him as I did with ~y blood, Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, Rather than have made that .savage duke thine heir And disinherited thine only son. Prince. Father, you cannot disinherit me: If you be king, why should not I succeed? K. Hen. Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: The Earl of \Varwick and the duke enforced me. Q. Mar. Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? 230 I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me ; • And given unto the house of York such head As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, What is it, but to make thy sepulchre And creep into it far before thy time? Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; • Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; The duke is made proteCtor of the realm; 240
Act I Scene II KING HENRY VI Part III And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds The trembling lamb environed with wolves. • Had I been there, which am a silly woman, The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes Before I would have granted to that aCt. But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, Until that aCt of parliament be repeal'd Whereby my son is disinherited. 2
•
Costume design for King Henry VI by Ann Curtis, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1964
•
Alarum. Entera Son that has killedhisfather, dragging in the dead body. Son. III blows the wind that profits nobody. This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, May be possessed with some store of crowns; And I, that haply take them from him now, May yet ere night yield both my life and them To some man else, as this dead man doth me. 60 Who's this? 0 God! it is my father's face, Whom in this confliCt I unwares have kill'd.
912
Act II Scene V KING HENRY VI Part III
o heavy times, begetting such events!
From London by the king was I press'd forth; My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, Came on the part of York, pre.ss'd by his master; And I, who at his hands received my life., Have by my hands of life bereaved him. Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! 70 My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. K. Hen. 0 piteous spectacle! 0 bloody times! Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief.
108 Misthink. MisjUdge. 118 obsequious. Scrupulous in funeral rites. 1 ZO Priam. King of Troy whose many sons were killed defending the city.
Enter a Father that has killed his son, on'nging in tke body. Fath.. Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, Giv,F. me thy gold, if thou hast any gold; 80 For I have bought it with an hundred blows. But let me see: is this our foeman's face? Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, Upon thy wounds, that kill mine eye and heart! 0, pity, God, this miserable age! What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, go This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! o boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! K. Hen. Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! o that my death would st.."l.y these ruthful deed&! 0, pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colours of our striving houses: The one his purple blood right well resembles; The other his pale cheeks, me thinks, presenteth: Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; 101 If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. Son. How will my mother for a father's death Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied 1 FatA. How will my wife for slaughter of my son Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! K. H m. How will the country for these woful chances • Misthink the king and not be satisfied! Son. Was ever son so rued a father's death? Fatk. Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? K. Hen. Was ever king 50 grieved for subjeCts' woe? III Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. Son. I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. [Exit with the body. F atk. These arms of mine shall be thy windingsheet; My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; • And so obsequious will thy father be, t Even for the loss of thee, having no more, • As Priam was for all his valiant sons. J20 I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will,
913
KING HENRY. VI Part III Act II Scene VI 128 amain. With great speed. 3 Lancaster. House of Lancaster.
Clifford: '0 Phrebus, hadst thou never given consent that Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds'. Phaethon's chariot falling to the earth. From a Venetian woodcut, 1553
For I have murdered where I should not kill. [Exit with tke body. K. Hen. Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, Here sits a king more woful than you are.
Alarums: excursio1u. E'tter QUEEN MARGARET, the PRINCE, and EXETER. Prince. Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: Away! for de.ath doth hold us in pursuit. • Q. Mar. Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain : Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds Having the fearful flying hare in sight, 130 With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. Exe. Away! for vengeance comes along with them: Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; Or else come after: 1'11 away before. K. Hen. Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: Not that I fear to stay, but love to go \Vhither the queen intends. Forward; away! [Exeunt. SCENE VI. A1wther part of the field. A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded. Clif. Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, Which, wailes it lasted, gave King Henry light. • 0 Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow More than my body's parting with my soul! My love and fear glued.many friends to thee; And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, The common people swarm like summer flies; And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? And who shines now but Henry's enemies? 10 o Phrebus, hadst thou never given consent That Phaethon should check thy fiery steeds, Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, Or as thy fa.ther and his father did, Giving no ground unto the house of York, They never then had sprung like summer flies; I and ten thousand In this luckless realm Had left no mourning widows for our death; And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? 21 And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; Noway to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: The foe is merciless, and will not pity; For at their hands I have deserved no pity. The air hath got into my deadly wounds, And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. [He/aints. Alarum ant/retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers. Et/w. Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, 31
914
Act II Scene VI KING HENRY VI Part III
•
•
•
• •
• •
And smooth the frowns of war with pe.acefullooks. Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, That led calm Henry, though he were a king, As doth a sail, fiJl'd with a fretting gust, Command an argosy to stem the waves. But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? War. No, 'tis impossible he shoulrl escape; For, though before his face I speak the words, Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. 41 [Cli.ffordgroans, and dies. Ed'w. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. Edw. See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, If friend or foe, let him be gently used. Rick. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch In hewin~ Rutland when his leaves put forth, But set hIS murdering knife unto the root From whence that tender spray did swet!t1y spring, 51 I mean our princely father, Duke of York. War. From off the gates of York fetch down the head, Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; Instead whereof let this supply the room: Measure for measure must be answered. Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, That nothing sung but death to us and ours : N ow death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, And his ill-boding tongue no more shall spe.ak. War. I think his understanding is bereft. 60 Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. R iclt. 0, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, Because he would avoid such bitter taunts Which in the time of death he gave our father. &eo. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. Rich. Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. Ceo. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. Edw. Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. Ceo. Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? lVar. They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou· wast wont. Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, If this right hand would buy two hours' life, 80 That I in all despite might rail at him, This hand should chop it off, and with the issuing blood Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst
38 argosy. Larlle merchant ship.
48 doom. Judgment. 54 room. Place.
75 fence. Protect. 78 wont. Accustomed to. 81 despite. Malice.
83 u1Istanched. Insatiable.
915
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene I
95 buzz. Spre.ad rumours. 107 Gloucester's . .. ominous. The last three Dukes of Gloucester had come to violent ends.
Practising with the cross-bow, 14th century. From Joseph Strutt's Sports and Pastimes of the People of England, 18 I 0
1 brake. Thicket. 2 laund. Glade.
4 Culling. Choosing.
York and young Rutland could not satisfy. War. Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, And rear it in the place your father's stands. And now to London with triumphant march, There to be crowned En~land's royal king: From whence shall WarWIck cut the sea to France, And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: 90 So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, • Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. First will I see the coronation; And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. Ed'it!. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; For in thy shoulder do I build my :;eat, 100 And never will I undertake the thing Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. Rich. Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; • For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. War. Tut, that's a foolish ob!lervation: Richard. be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, To see thc:;e honours in possession. 110 (Exetmt. ACT III. SCENE
I.
A forest
il~
tlte nortlt
of Ellg-land.
Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows ill tlteir Itamls. • First Keep. Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; • For through this laund anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, • Culling the principal of all the deer. Sec. Keep. I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. First Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: And, for the time shall not seem tedious, I 'II tell thee what hefel me on a day 10 In this self-place where now we mean to stand. Sec. Keep. Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. Enter KING
disguised, witlt aprayerbook. K. Hen. From Scotland am I stoI'n, even of pure love, To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. N 0, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; Thy place is fill'd t thy sceptre wrung from thee, Thy balm wash'a off wherewith thou wast anointed: No bending knee wilI call thee Cesar now, No humble suitors press to speak for right, No, not a man comes for redress of thee; 20
916
HENRY,
Act III Scene I KING HENRY VI Part III
•
• •
•
For how can I help them, and not myself? Fint Keef. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper s fee: l'his is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. K. Hen. Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, For wise men say it is the wisest courst'. Sec. Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. First Keep. Forbear awhile: we'll hear a little more. K. Hen. My queen and son are gone to France for aid; And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister To wife for Edward: if this news be true, 31 Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost:. For Warwick is a subtle orator, And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. By this account then Margaret may win him; For she's a woman to be pitied much: Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; The tiger will be mild whiles she doth. mourn: And Nero will be tainted with remorse, 40 To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick, to give; She, on his left side, craving aid for Hen.ry, He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd : That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, And in conclusion wins the king from her, 50 With promise of his sister, and what else, To strengthen and support King Edward's place. o Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! Sec. Keep. Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was born to: A mali at least, for less I should not be; And men may talk of kings, and why not I? Sec. Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. . K. Hen. Why, so I .am, in mind; and that's enough. 60 Sec. Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, N or to be seen: my crown is called content: A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. Sec. Keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, Your crown content and you must be contented To go along with us; for, as we think, You are the king King Edward hath deposed; And we his subjeCts sworn in all allegiance 70 Will apprehend you as his enemy. K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an oath? Sec. Keep. No, never such an oath; nor will not now. K. Hen. Where did you dwell when I was King of England?
23 quondam. Former.
37 battery. Assault. 40 Nero. Roman Emperor whose name has become synonymous with cruelty.
King Henry VI. Engraving from John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine, 16II-12
63 Indian stones. Pearls.
917
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene II 14 keeps the wind. Keeps the windward side of the game.
Sec. Keep.
Here in this country, where we now remain. K. Hen. I was anointed king at nine months old; My father and my grandfather were kings, And you were sworn true subjeds unto me: And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? First Keep. No; 80 For we were subjects but while you were king. K. Hen. Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear I Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me agai~, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men. But do not break your oaths; for of that sin .90 My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; And be you kings, command, and 1'11 obey. First Keep. We are true subjetls to the king, . King Edward. K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry, If he were seated as King Edward is. First Keep. We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, To go with us unto the officers. K. Hen. In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: And what God will, that let your king perform ; And what he will, I humbly yield unto. 101 [Exeunt. SCENE
II. London.
Tlu palace.
Enter KING EDWARD, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY. K. Edw. Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, His lands then seized on by the cQllqueror: Her suit is now to repossess those lands; Which we in justice cannot well deny, Because in quarrel of the house of York The·worthy gentleman did lose his life. Glou. Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; It were dishonour to deny it her. K. Edw. I t were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. 10 Glou. [Aszae to Clar.] Yea, is it so? I see the lady hath a thing to grant, Before the king will grant her humble suit. Claro [Aside to Glou.) He knows the game: • how true he keeps the wind! GIOtI. [Aside to Clar.] Silence! K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your !;uit ; And come some other time to know our mind. L. Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: May it please your highness to resolve me now; And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. 20 Glou. [Aside to Clar.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you all your lands, An if what plea.se'l him shall pleasure von. Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catCh a blow. 918
Act III Scene II KING HENRY VI Part III
Claro [Aside to Glou.1 I fear her not, unless she chance to fall. Glou. [Aside to Clar.] God forbid that! for he'll take vantages. K. Edw. How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. Claro [Aside to Glou.] I think he means to beg a child of her. Glou. [Aside to Clar.] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather give her two. L. Grey. Three, my most gracious lord; Glolt. [Aside to Clar.] You shall have four, if you'll be ruled by him. 30 K. Edw. 'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. L. Grey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. K. Edw. Lords, give us leave: 1'11 try this widow's wit. Glou. [Aside to Clar.] Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave, Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. [Glou. and Clar. retire. K. Edw. Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? L. Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love mys'!1f. K. Edw. And would you not do much tu do them good? L. Grey. To do them gooo, I would sustain some harm. K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. 40 L. Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty. K. Edw. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. L. Grey. So shall you bind me to your highness' service. K. Edw. What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? L. Grey. What you command, that rests in me to do. K. Edw. But you will take exceptions to my boon. L. Grey. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. K. Ed,w. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. L. Grey. Why, then I will do what your grace commands. Glou. (Aside to Clar.] He plies her hard; and much rain wears the marble. 50 Claro [Aside to Glou.] As red as fire! nay, then her wax must melt. L. Grey. Why stops my lord? shall I not hear my task? K. E dw. An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. L. Grey. That's soon perform'd, because I am a subjett. K. Edw. Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. L. Grey. I take my leave with many thousand thanks. Gloft. [Aside to Clar.) The match is made; she seals it with a curtsy. K. Edw. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of lo....e I mean. L. Grey. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege.
King Edward IV (1461-83).
919
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene II
72 honesty. Chastity.
Elizabeth Woodville-Grey, Consort of Edward IV
920
K. Edw. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. 60 What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? L. Grey. My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. K. Ed'llJ. No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. L. Grey. Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my mind. L. Grey. My mind will never grant what I perceive Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. K. Ed'ltJ. To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. L. Grey. To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. 70 K. Edw. Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. • L. Grey. Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; F or by that loss I will not purchase them. K. Edw. Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. L. Grey. Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. But, mighty lord, this merry inclination Acconls not with the sadness of my suit: Please you dismiss me, either with' ay' or 'no.' K. Edw. Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; No, if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. 80 L. Grey. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. Glou. [Aside to Clar.] The widow likes him not, she knits her brows. Claro [Aside to Glou.] He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom. K. Edw. [Aszile] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; Her words do show her wit incomparable; All her perfections challenge sovereignty: One way or other, she is for a king; And she shall be my love, or else my queen.Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? L. Grey. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: 90 I am a subject fit to jest withal, But far unfit to be a sovereign. K. Ed'lv. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee I speak no more than what my soul intends; And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. L. Grey. Aud that is more than I will yield unto: I know I am too mean to be your queen, And yet too good to be your concubine. K. Edw. You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. L. Grey. 'TwiU grieve your grace my sons should call you father. 100 K. Ed'lU. No more than when my daughters call thee mother. Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing To be the father unto many sons.
Act III Scene II KING HENRY VI Part III Answer no more, for thou shalt be my ql1een. Clou. [Aside to Clar.] The ghostly father now hath done his shrift. Clar. [Aside to Glou.] When he was made a • shriver, 'twas for shift. K. Edw. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. Clou. The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. 110 K. Edw. You'ld think it strange if I should marry her. Claro To whom, my lord? K. Edw. Why, Clarence, to myself. Clou. That would be ten days' wonder at the least. Clar. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. Clou. By ro much is the wonder in extremes. K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both Her suIt is granted for her husband's lands.
•
Enter a Nobleman. Nob. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is . taken, And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. K. Edw. See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: I20 And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, To question of his apprehension. Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. (Exeunt all but GUJt«ester. Glou. Ay, Edward will use women honourably. Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, To cross me from the golden time I look for I And yet, between my soul's desire and meThe lustful Edward's title buried729 Is Clarence, Henrf' and his ron young Edward, And all the unlook d for issue of their bodies, To take their room!!, ere I can place myself: A cold premeditation for my purpose ! Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; Like one that stands upon a promontory, And spies a far-off'shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, • Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: So do I wish the crown, being so far off; I40 And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; And so I say, 1'11 cut the causes off, Flattering me with impossibilities. My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, Unless my hand and strength could equal them. Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard ; What other pleasure can the world afford? I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, And deck my body in gay ornaments, And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. 150 o miserable thought! and more unlikely Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: And. for I should not deal in her soft laws, She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; To make an envious mountain on my back,
107 ghostly father. Confessor. done his shrift. Finished hearing Confession. 108 shriver . .. shift. Popular euphemism for seduction. shift. Smock, chemise; but also a quibble on the meaning 'trick'.
139 lade. Bailout, drain.
Charles Pitt, the Victorian actor, as Gloucester
921
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene III ,,, impaled. Encircled.
'87 basilisk. Mythical reptile believed to be able to kill by a mere look.
'88 Nestor. Wise and venerable old Greek warrior at the siege of Troy.
190 Sinon. The Greek who induced the Trojans to allow the wooden horse into the city.
'!n
chameleon. Kind of lizard that can change its colour.
'12 PToteus. Old man of the sea who could change shape at will.
•
193 Machiavel. Florentine statesman and author whose name has become synonymous with politics devoid of principle.
5 strike her sail. Humble herself. 7 Great Albion's. England's.
• • • • • •
Where sits deformity to mock my body; To shape my legs of an unequal size; To disproportion me in every part, 160 Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp That carries no impression like the dam. And am I then a man to be beloved? o monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, But to command, to check, to o'erbear such As are of better person than myself, I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, And, whiles I live, to account thiS world bllt hell, Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head Be round impaled with a glorious crown. 111 And yet I know not how to get the crown, For many lives stand between me and home: And I,-like one lost in a thorny wood, That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, Seeking a way and straying from the way; Not knowing how to find the open air, But toiling desperately to find it out,Torment myself to catch the English crown ; And from that torment I will free myself, 1:80 Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, And cry • Content' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; I'll p1a y the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. 190 I can add colours to the chameleon, Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, And set the murderous Machiavel to school. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. (Exit.
III. France. The KING'S palace. Flourislt. Enter LEWIS the French King, his sister BoNA., Ius Admiral, called BOURBON: PRINCE EDWARD, QUEEN MARGARET, and the EARL OF OXFORD. LEWIS sits, and risetle #,P again. K. Le-u!. Fair Queen of England, worthy MarScENE
garet, Sit down with us: it ill befits thy state And birth, that thou shouldst stand while Le\vis doth sit. Q. Mar. No, mighty King of France: now Margaret • Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve Where kings command. I was, I must confess, • Great Albion's queen in former golden days: But now mischance hath trod my title down, And with dishonour laid me on the ground; Where I must take like seat unto my fortune, 10 And to my humble seat conform myself. K. Lew. Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair! Q. Mar. From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.
922
Act III Scene III KING HENRY VI Part III K. Lew. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, And sit thee by our side: [:Seats Iter Itim] yield not thy neck To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance. Be pJain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief; I t shall be eased, if France can yield relief. 20 Q. ,}far. Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. Now, therefore, be it known to noble LewG, That Henry, sole possessor of my love, Is of a king become a banish'd man, And forced to live in Scotland a forlorn; While proud ambitious Edward Duke of York Usurps the regal title and the seat Of England's true-anointed lawful king. This is the cause that I, poor Margaret, 30 \\'jth this my son, Prince Edward, Henry's heir, Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid; And if thou fail us, all our hope is done: Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help; Our people and our peers are both misled, Our treasure seized, our soldiers put to flight, And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight. A~. Lew. Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm, \Vhile we bethink a means to break it off. Q. .illnr. The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe. 40 K. Lew. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee. Q. ltlar. 0, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow. And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!
oy
56 Lady Bona . .. sister. i.e. sister-in-law, daughter of the Duke of Savoy and siste1' to the Fren~ queen.
E,der \V ARWlCK.
K. Lew. What's he approacheth boldly to our presence? Our Earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest friend. K. Lew. \Velcome, brave Warwick! \Vhat brings thee to France? [He descends. Site arisetlt. Q. lI.far. Ay, now begins a second storm to
Q. forar.
nse;
For this is he that moves both wind and tide. IYar. From worthy Edward, King of Albion, My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend, SO 1 come, in kindness and unfeigned love, First, to do greetings to thy royal person; And then to crave a league of amity; And lastly, to confirm that amity With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant • That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister, To England's king in lawful marriage. Q. Mar. [Aside] If that go forward, Henry'S hope is done. lYar. [To Bona J And, gracious madam, ill our kin~'s behalf, I am commanded, with your leave and f.'H·our, 60 Humbly to kiss your hand and with my tongue '1'0 tell the passion of my sovereign's heart; \Vhere fame, late entering at his heedful ears, Hath placed thy beauty's image and thy virtue. Q. friar. King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak, Before you answer Warwick. His demand
923
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene III 99 buckler. Shield, protect.
101 doom. Juclement.
924
Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, But from deceit bred by necessity; For how can tyrants safely govern home, Unless abroad they purchase great alliance? 70 To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice, That Henry liveth still; but were he dead, Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry's son. Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and m.arriage Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour; For though usurpers sway the rule awhile, Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs. War. Injurious Margaret! Pritz(.'/!. And why not queen! War. Because thy father Henry did usurp; And thou no more art prince than she is queen. 80 Ox/. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt, Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain: And, after John of Gaullt, Henry the Fourth. Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest; And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth. Who by his prowess conquered all France: From these our Henry lineally descends. War. Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse, You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost All that which Henry the Fifth h:ld gotten? go Methinks these peers of France should smile a.t that. But for the rest, you tell a pedigree Of threescore and two _years; a silly time To make_ prescription for a ki.ngdom's worth. Ox/. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege, Whom thou obeyed'st thirty and six years, And not bewray thy treason with a blush? War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right, • Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree! 99 For shame! leave Henry, and call Edward king. • Ox/. Call him my king by whose injurious doom My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere, Was done to death? and more than so, my father, Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years, When nature brought him to the door of death? No, \Varwick, no; while life upholds this arm, This arm upholds the house of Lancaster. War. And I the house of York. K. Lew. Queen Margaret, Prince Edward. and Oxford, Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside, IIO While I use further conference with Warwick. [They stand a/{}()/. Q. Mar. Heavens grant that Warwick's words bewitch him not! K. Lew. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience, Is Edward your true king? for I were loath To link with him that were not lawful chosen. IVar. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour. K. Lew. But is he gracious in the people's eye? War. The more that Henry was unfortunate.
Act III Scene III KING HENRY VI Part III
K. Lew. Then further, all dissembling set a:..;de. Tell me for truth the measure of his love 120 Unto our sister Bona. War. Such it seeIll3 As may beseem a monarch like himself. Myself have often heard him say and swear That this his love was an eternal plant, Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground, The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun, Exempt from envy, but not from disdain, Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain. K. Lntl. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. Bona. Your grant, or your denial. shall be mine: 130 [To War.] Yet I confess that often ere this day, When I have heard your king's desert recounted. Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire. K. Lew. Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward's: And now forthwith shall articles be drawn • Touching thejointure thaty.:rur king must make, Which with her dowry shall be counterpoised. Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness That Bona shall be wife to the English king. Prince. To Edward. hut not to the English king. 140 Q. Mar. Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device By this alliance to make void my suit: Before thy coming Lewis was Henry's friend. K. Lew. And still is friend to him and Margaret: But if your title to the crown be weak, As may appear by Edward's good success, Then 'tis but reason that I be released From giving aid which late I promised. Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand That your estate requires and mine can yield. 150 War. Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease, 'There having nothing, nothing can he lose. And as for you yourself, our quondam queen, You have a father able to maintain you; And better 'twere you troubled him than France. Q. Mar. Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace, Proud setter up and puller down of kings! I will not hence, till, with my talk and tears, Both full of truth, I make Kmg Lewis behold • Thy sly conveyance and thy lord's false love; 160 Foc both of you are birds of selfsame feather. [PfMt blows a witkin. K. Lew. Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
13& joinooe. Marriaee settlement.
'60 conveyance. Contrivance. SO Post. A messenger.
nom
•
Enter a Post. [To WRr.] My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague: [To Lewis] These from our king unto your majesty: [To Margaret] And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not. rTltey ali read tlwir letters. Ox/. I like it well that our fair queen and mistress Po.~t.
925
KING HENRY VI Part III Act III Scene III 187 My father. Earl of Salisbury executed by the Lancastrians after Wakefield.
.
, 88 abuse . .. niece. Edward had tried to seduce her.
191 guerdon'd. Rewarded.
Costume design for Warwick by Ann Curtis, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1964
926
SlIllles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his. Prince. Nay, mark how Lewis stamps, as he were nettled: I hope all's for the best. 170 K. Lew. Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen? Q. Mar. Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys. War. Mine, full of sorrow and heart's discontent. K. Lew. What! has your king married the Lady Grey? And now, to soothe your forgery and his, Sends me a paper to persuade me patience? Is this the alliance that he seeks with France? Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner? Q. Mar. I told your majesty as much before: ThlS proveth Edward's love and Warwick's honesty. 180 War. King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven, A nd by the hope I have of heavenly 'bliss, That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward's, No more my king, for he dishonours me, But most himself, if he could see his shame. Did I forget that by the house of York • My father came untimely to his death? • Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece? Did I impale him with the regal crown f Did I put Henry from his native right? 190 • And am I guerdon'd at the last with shame? Shame on himself! for my desert is honour : And to repair my honour lost for him, I here renounce him and return to Henry. My noble queen, let former grudges pass, And henceforth I am thy true servitor: I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona And replant Henry in his former state. Q. Mar. Warwick, these words have turn'd my hate to love; And I forgive and quite forget old faults, 200 And joy that thou becomest King Henry's friend. War. So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend, That, if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us With some few bands of chosen soldiers, 1'11 undertake to land them on our coast And force the tyrant from his seat by war. 'Tis not his new-made bride shall succour him: And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me, He's very likely now to fall from him, 209 lar. Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's brother Would be her lord? or shall I say, ber uncle? Or, he that slew her brothers and her uncles? Under what title shall I woo for thee, 340 That God, the law, my honour and her love, Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? K. Rick. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting war. K. Rick. Say that the king, which may command, en treats. • Q. Eliz. That at her hands which the king's King forbids. K. Rick. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen, Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother dotb. K. Rick. Say, I will love her everlastingly. Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title 'ever' last? l50 K. Rick. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last? K. Rick. So long as heaven and nature len~hens it. Q. Elzz. So long as hell and Richard likes ofit. K. Rick. Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject love. Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loathes such sovereignty. K. Rick. Be eloquent in my behalf to her. Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best being plainly told. K. Rick. Then in plain terms tell her my loving tale. Q. E liz. Plain and not honest is too harsh a style. 3lio K. R uk. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. Q. E liz. 0 no, my reasons are too deep and dead; Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their grave. K. Rich. Harp not on that string. madam; that is past. Q. E liz. Harp on it still shall I till heartstrings break. • K. Rick. Now, by my George, my garter, and mycrown,Q. Eliz. Profaned, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd.
346 forbids. Marri. to a niece was forbidden in canon law.
3.
George. The fieure of St. George on the pendent of the Order of the Garter.
Insignia of the Order of the Garter. From John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine, 1611-12
1017
KING RICHARD III Act IV Scene IV
420 Shall . .. myself? Shall I forget my present state to become what I used to be: a queen? 424 nest of spicery. The phoenix's nest. The phoenix was reborn of its own destruction.
The Phoenix, a mythical Arabian bird. From a 12th century bestiary
1018
K. Rick. I swearQ. Eliz. By nothing: for this is no oo.th: The George, profaned, hath lost his holy honour; The garter, blemish'd, pawn'dhis knightly virtue ; The crown,·usurp'd, disgraced his kingly glory. If something thou wilt swear to be believed, Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd. K. Rick. Now, by the worldQ. Elis. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. K. Rick. My father's deathQ. Eliz. Thy life hath that dishonour'd. K. Rick. Then, by myselfQ. Elu. Thyself thyself misusest. K. Rick. Why then, by GodQ. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him, The unity the king thy brother made Had not been broken, nor my brother slain: 380 If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him, The imperial metal, circling now thy brow, Had graced the tender temples of my child, And both the princes had been breathing here, Which now, two tender playfellows for dust, Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms. What canst thou swear by now? K; R uk. The time to come. Q. E liz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast; For I myself have many tears to wash 389 Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee. The children live, whose parents thou hast slaughter'd, Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age; The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd, Old wither'd plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast Misused ere used, by time misused o'erpast. K. Rick. As I intend to prosper and repent, So thrive I in my dangerous attempt Of hostile arms! myself myself confound I Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours! 400 Day, yield me not thy light; nor, night, thy rest ! Be opposite all planets of good luck To my proceedings, if, with pure heart's love, Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts, T tender not thy beauteous princely daughter! In her consists my happiness and thine; Without her, follows to this land and me, To thee, herself, and many a Christian soul, Death, desolation, ruin and decay: Tt cannot be avoided but by this; 410 I t will not be avoided but by this. Therefore, good mother,-I mustcaU you soBe the attorney of my love to her: Plead what I will be, not what I have been; :Not my deserts, but what I will deserve: Urge the necessity and state of times, And be not peevish-fond in great designs. Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? K. Rick. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good. • Q. E liz. Shall I forget myself to be myself? 420 K. Rich. Ay, if yourself's remembranc~ wrong yourself. Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. K. Rick. But in your daughter'S womb I bury them: • Where in that nest of spicery they shan breed
Act IV Scene IV KING RICHARD III Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. Q. E liz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? K. Rick. And be a happy mother by the deed. Q. Eliz. I go. Write to me very shortly, And you shall understand from me her mind. K. Rick. Bear her my true love's kiss; and so, farewell. [Exit Queen Elizabetk. 430 Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman!
Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBYfollowing. How now! what news? Rat. My gracious sovereign, on the western coast Rideth a pui.$sant navy; to the shore Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, Unarm'd, and unresolved to beat them back: 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral; • And there they hull, expecting but the aid Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore. K. Rick. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk: 440 Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he? Cate. Here, my lord. K. Rick. Fly to the duke: [To Ratcliff] Post thou to Salisbury: When thou COOlest thither,-[To Catesby] Dull, unmindful villain, Why stand'st thou still, and go'st not to the duke? Cate. First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind, What from your grace I shall deliver to him. K. Rick. 0, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight • The greatest strength and power he can make, And meet me presently at Salisbury. 450 Cate. I go. (Exit. R at. What is 't your highness' pleasure I shall do At Salisbury? K. Rick. Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go? R at. Your highness told me I should post before. K. Rick. My mind is changed, sir, my mind is changed.
438 hull. Drift. 441 power. Anny. 4&5 White-liver'd runagate. Cowardly runaway.
Lord Stanley, Earl of Derby. Engraving from Old England, 1854
Enter LORD STANLEY. How now, what news with you? Stan. N one good, my lord, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so held, but it may well be told. K. Rich. Hoyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad I 400 Why dost thou run so many mile about, When thou mayst tell thy tale a nearer way? Oilce more, what news? Stan. Richmond is on the seas. K. Ric!'. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! • White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. K. Rich... Well, sir, as you guess, as you guess? Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Ely, He makes for England, there to claim the crown. K. Rich... Is the chair empty? is the sword 470 unsway'd? Is the king dead? the empire unpossess'd? What heir of York is there alive but we! 1019
KING RICHARD III Act IV Scene IV S06 competitors. Associates.
And who is England's king but great York's heir? Then, tell me, what doth he upon the sea? Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. K. Rick. Unless for that he comes to be your liege~
Ellen Bateman, the 19th century child actress, as Richard III, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1877
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear. Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not. K. Rick. Where is thy power, then, to beat him backf 480 'Vhere are thy tenants and thy followers? Are they not now upon the western shore, Safe-conduCting the rebels from their ships? . Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north. K. Rick. Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north, 'Vhell they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stall. They have not been commanded, mighty sovereign: Please it your majelrty to give me leave, I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace \Vhere and what time your majesty shall pleal'e. K. RiCk. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond: I will not trust you, sir. Stan. Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful: I never was nor never will be false. K. Rick. Well, Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm, Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him as I prove true to you. [Exit.
Enter a M esseqger. Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, 500 As I by friends am well advertised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate Bishop of Exeter, his brother there, With many moe confederates, are in arms. Enter altother Messenger. Sec. Mess. My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms; • And every hour more competitors Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth. Enter "notker Messenger. Third Mess. My lord, the army of the Duke of BuckinghamK. Ric/t. Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death? [Hestrike/k kiln. Take that, until thou bring me better news. 510 Third Mus. The news I have to tell your majesty Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters, Buckingham's army is dispersed and scatter'd; And he himself wander'd away alone, No man knows whither. K. Rick. I cry thee mercy: There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
1020
Act IV Scene V & Act V Scene I KING RICHARD III
Tkird Mess. Such proclamation bath been made, my liege.
3 Iwld. Prison.
Enter anotlter Messenger. F()lIrlk Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset, S20 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace, The Breton navy is dispersed by tempest: Richmond, in Dorset.c;hire, sent out a boat Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks I f they were his assistants, yea or no ; \Vho answer'd him, they came from Buckingham Upon his party: he, mistrusting them, Hoised sail and made away for Brittany. K. R ;clt. March on, march on, since we are ·up in arms: 530 If not to fight with foreign enemies, Yet to beat down these rebels here at bome. Re-enter CATESBY. Cafe. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken; That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond Is with a mighty power landed at Milford, Is colder tidings, yet they must be told. K. Riclt. Away towards Salisbury 1 while we reason here, A royal battle might be won and lost: Some one take order Buckingham be brought To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. 540 (FltJUrisk. Exeunt. SCENE
V. Lwd DerbJl's Itouse.
Enter DERBY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSW1CK. Der. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: That ill the sty of this most bloody boar • My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold: If I revolt, off goes young George's head; The fear ofthat withholds my present aid. But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now? Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in Wales. Der. What men of name resort to him? Cltris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; SI1' Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley; 10 Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt, And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; And many moe of noble fame and worth : And towards London they do bend their course, If by the way they be not fought withal. Der:. Return unto thy lord; commend me to him: Tell him the queen hath heartily consented He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter. These letters will resolve him of my mind. Farewell. [Exeunt. 20
ScENE
Kate Bateman as Richmond. She was the sister of Ellen, and daughter of the American impresario H.L. Bateman who leased the Lyceum Theatre, London, from 1871 to 1877
ACT V. I. Salisbury. Alt open place.
Enler tire Sheriff, and BUCKINGHAM, with halberds, led to executitm. Buck. Will not King Richard let me speak with him? Slter. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
1021
KING RICHARD III Act V Scene II 7 moody. Angry.
'9 determined . .. wrongs. Predetermined end of my crimes.
Buckingham: 'Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame.' Prisoners being taken to their death. Engraving from a medieval manuscript
Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey, Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, Vaughan, and all that have miscarried By underhand corrupted foul injustice, • If that your moody discontented souls Do through the clouds behold this present hour, Even for revenge mock my destruClion ! This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not? 10 Sher. It is, my lord. Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday. This is the day that, in King Edward's .time, 1 wish'd might fall on me, when I was found False to his children or his wife's allies; This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall By the false faith of him I trusted most; This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul • Is the determined respite of my wrongs : That high All-Seer that I dallied with 20 Hath turo'd my feigned prayer on my head And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. Thus doth he foreethe swords of wicked men To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms: Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head; 'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow, Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame ; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. [Exeunt. SCENE
II.
The camp near Tamworth.
Enler RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT, and otlters, 'lliitk drum and colours.
Henry, Earl of Richmond and the future Henry VII. Drawing by Henry Singleton (1766-1839) 9 wash. Swill. 10 embowelrd. Disembowelled.
1022
Riehm. Fellows in arms, and my mostloving friends, Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny, Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment: And here receive we from our father Stanley Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful vine!;, • Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough • In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine 10 Lies now even in the centre of this isle, N ear to the town of Leicester, as we learn: From Tamworth thither is but one day's march. In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends, To reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war. Ox/. Every man's conscience is a thousand swords, To fight against that bloody homicide. Herb. I doubt not but his friends will fly to us. Blunt. He hath no friends but who are friends 20 for fear, Which in his greatest need will shrink from him. Riehm. All for our vantage. Then, iJl God's . name, march: True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. [Exeunt.
Act V Scene III KING RICHARD III SCENE
III. BOSWQrtk Field.
Enter KING RICHARD in arms, witk NORFOLK, Ike EARL OF SURREY, a1td otkers. K. Rick. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field. My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. K. Rick. My Lord of N orfolk,Nor. Here, most gracious liege. K. Rick. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not? Nor. We must both give and take, my gracious lord. K. Rielt. Up with my tent there! here wiII I lie to-night; But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. Who hath descried the number of the foe? Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. 10 K. Rick. Why, our battalion trebles that account: Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse party want. Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen, Let us survey the vantage of the field; • Call for some men of sound direCtion: • Let's want no discipline, make no delay; For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. [ExtM'.mi.
Ellter,
Oil
tke otker side oftkefield,
Stage set from Edmund Kean's Richard III, 1854 16 direction. Judgment of military tactics.
17 discipline. Experience. 25 Limit. Appoint.
RICHMOND,
and otkers. Some q/tlte Soldiersjitck Rickmond's tent. Rickm. The we.ary sun hath made a golden SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD,
!>et, And, by the bright track of his fiery car, 20 Giv.es signal of a goodly day to-morrow. Sir \Villiam Brandon, you shall bear my standard. Give me some ink and paper in my tent: I'll draw the form and model of our battle, • Limit each leader to his several charge, And part in just propllrtion our small strength. My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon, And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me. The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment: Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, And by the second hour in the morning 31 Desire the earl to see me in my tent: Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou go'st, Where is Lord Stanley quarter' d, dost thou know? Bluitt. Unless I have mista'en his colours much, Which well I am assured I have not done, His regiment lies half a mile at least South from the mighty power of the king. Rick",. If without peril it be possible, 39 Good captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, And gi';·e him from me this most needful scroll. Elu"t. Upon my life. my lord, 1'11 undertake it; And so, God ~ve you quiet rest to·night! Rickm. Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come, gentlemen, Let us consult upon to-marrow's business: In to our tent; the air is raw and cold. [They witlulraw ;lIio tM tmt.
.. l'
\'~ ,. \ ' \
.'\
\
,\
\. \ \ , \',
,',
V,
Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey. Engraving from Old England, 1854
1023
KING RICHARD III Act V Scene III 50 beaver. Faceauard of a helmet; sometimes the helmet itself.
Eltter, to his tent,
KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and othen.
K. Rich.. Cate.
51 pursuivont at arms. An officer of the College of Heralds.
85 staves. Shafts of lances.
• 70 cock-shut. Twilight. 81 father-in-law. Stepfather.
•
•
•
What is't o'clock? It's supper-time, my lord; It's nine o'clock. K. Rich.. I will not sup to-night. Give me some ink and paper. What, is my beaver easier than it was? 50 And all my armour laid into my tent? Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are m readiness. K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. Nor. I go, my lord. K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. Nor. I warrant you, my lord. [Exit. K. Rich. Catesby ! Cate. My lord? K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Before sunrising, lest his son George faU 61 Into the blind cave of eternal night. [Exit Catesby. Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch. Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow. Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. Ratcliff! R at. My lord? K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northum berland? Rat. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop 70 \Vent through the army, cheering up the soldie.rs. K. Rich. So, I am satisfied." Give me a bowl of wine: I have not that alacrity of spirit, Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have. Set it down. Is ink and paper ready? R at. It is, my lord. K. Rich. Bid my guard watch; leave me. Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent And help to arm me. Leave me, I say. [Exeunt Ralcliff and the other Attendants.
Enter DERBY to RICHMOND ;,/ his tent, Lords and" others attellding-. Der.
Fortune and vidory sit on thy helm! All comfort that the dark night can afford 80 • Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! Tell me, how fares Ollr loving mother? Der. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, \Vho prays continually for Richmond's good: So much for that. The silent hours steal on, And flaky darkness breaks within the east. In brief,-for so the season bids us be,Prepare thy battle early in the morning, And put thy fortune to the arbitrement Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. go J, as I may-that which I would I cannot,With best advantage will deceive the time, And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms: But on thy side I may not be too forward, Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, Be executed in his father's sight. R ichm.
1024
Act V Scene III KING RICHARD III Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love And ample interchange of sweet discourse, Which so longsunder'd friends should dwell upon: God give us leisure for these rites of love! 101 Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well! Riehm. Good lords, conduCt him to his regiment: I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap, • Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow, When I should mount with wings of vitlory : Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen. [Exeunt all but Richmond. o Thou, whose captain I account myself, Look on my forces with a gracious eye; Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath, 1I0 That they may crush. down with a heavy fall The usurping helmets of our adversaries! Make us thy Illinisters of chastisement, That we may praise thee in the victory ! To thee I do commend my watchful soul, Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes: Sleeping and waking, 0, defend me still !
105 peise. Weigh.
[Sleeps.
Enter the Ghost qf PRINCE EDWARD, son to HENRY the Sixth.
David Garrick as Richard III. Painting by William HOillrth (r697-1764)
Ghost. [To Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy mul to-morrow! Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die! 120 [To Richmond} Be cheerful. Richmond; for the wronged souls Of butcher'd princes fi~ht in thy behalf: King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee. Etzler tlu Ghost iifHENRY the Sixth. Ghost. [To Rickard] When I was mortal, my anointed body By thee was punched full of deadly holes: Think on the Tower and me: despair., and die! Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die! (To Richmond] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror! Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king, Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish !
E1l!er the GI,OS! o.f CLARENCE. Ghost. [T41 Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! 131 T, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death I To-morrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die ! [To Richmond] Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster, The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee: Good angels guard thy battle 1 live, and flourish! Enter tlte Glwsts of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN. Ghost of R. [To R ichardJ Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow, Rivers, that died at Pomfret! desp.'tir, and die! GhostiifG. [To Richard] Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair! 14I Ghl'st of V. [To Richard] Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear,
1025
KING RICHARD III Act V Scene III
'73 for Iwpe. Hoping to help you. '80 bums blue. A sign of the presence of a g:host.
Let fall thy lance :- despair, and die! All. [To Richmond] Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom Will conquer him! awake, and win the day! Enter tlte GhosttifHASTINGS. Ghost. [To Richard] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, And in a bloody battle end thy days! Think on Lord Hastings: despair, and die! [T" Richmond] Quiet untroubled soul, aVl'ake, awake! Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! Enter tlie Ghosts ofthe /wI) young Princes. Ghosts. [To Richard] Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower: 151 Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die! [To Richmond] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy; Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy! Live, and beget a happy race of kings ! Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.
Richard dreams of his victims. Engraving from Rowe's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1709
Enter tke Ghost tifLADY ANNE. Ghost. [To lfickartl] Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, That never slept a qniet hour with thee, 160 Now fills thy'sleep with perturbations: To-morrow in the battle 1;hink on me, And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die! [To Richmond] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep; Dream of success and happy vid:ory ! Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. Enterthe Ghost tifBUCKINGHAM. Ghost. [To Richard] The first was I that help'd thee to the crown; The last was I that felt thy tyranny: 0, in the battle think on Buckingham, And die in terror of thy guiltiness! 1']0 Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death: Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath ! • [To Richmond] I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid: But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd: God and good allgels fight on Richmond's side; And RicharJ falls in height of all his pride. [The Ghosts'lJanisk.. King Rickard starts out ofhis dream. K. Rick. Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. Have mercy, Jesu I-Soft! I did but dream. coward conscience, howdost thou afflid: me! • The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What do I fear? myselfi there's none else by : Richard loves Richard: that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here 1 No. Yes, I am: Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why: Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself! Alack, I love mysel( Wherefore? for any good That I myself have done unto myself! 0, no! alas, I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself! X90
°
1026
Act V Scene III KING RICHARD III I am a villain: yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do.not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, A nd every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree; • All several sins, all used in each degree, Throng to the bar. crying all, Guilty! guilty! • I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul shall pity me : 201 Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself? Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd Came to my tent; and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
, 98 used. Committed. 200-20'1 Jshall ... pity me. See introduction. 219 proof. Tested armour.
E nter RATCLIFF. R at. My lord ! K. Rick. 'Zounds! who is there? Rat. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village-cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn; 210 Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour. K. Rick.. 0 Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream! What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true! Rat. No doubt, my lord. K. Rick. 0 Ratcliff, I fe.ar, I fear,Rat. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. K. Rick. By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers • Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond. It is not yet near day. Come, go with me ; 220 Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropperj To see if any mean to shrink from me. [ExeNnt.
Enter tke Lords to
RICHMOND,
John Bannister as Richard III and John Pindar as Sir Richard Ratcliff, Haymarket Theatre, London, 1794
sittillg in kis
tent. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond! Riekm. Cry mercy. lords and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. Lords. How have you slept, my lord? Riekm. The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams That ever enter'd in a drowsy head, Have I since your departure had, my lords. Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard murder'd, 230 Came to my tent, and cried on victory : I promise you, my soul is very jocund In the remembrance of so fair a dream. How far into the morning is it, lords! Lqrds. Upon the stroke of four. Rickm. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direCtion.
His qrawm to his soldiers. More than I have said, loving countrymen, The leisure and enforcement of the time Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this, God ane. our good cause fight upon our side; 240 The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
1027
KING RICHARD III Act V Scene III 2&0 foil. Setti~ for a jewel.
Richard III anned. Costume design by J.R. Planche, the 19th century designer who worked with Charles Kemble 276 Tell the clock. Count the strokes.
Duke of Norfolk, father of the Earl of Surrey. Engraving from Old England, 1854
1028
Richard except, those whom we fight against Had rather have us win than him they follow: For what is he they follow f truly, gentlemen, A bloody tyrant and a homicide; One raised in blood, and one in blood establi.sh'd; One that made means to come by what he hath, And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him; • A base foul stone, made precious by the foil 250 Of England's chair, where he is falsely set; One that hath ever been God's enemy: Then, if you fight against God's enemy, God will in justice ward you as his soldiers; If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; If you do fight against your country's foes, Your country's fat ilialI pay your pains the hire; If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors ; If you do free your children from the sword, 261 Your children's children quit it in youI' age. Then, in the name of God and all these rights. Advance your standards, &aw your willing swords. For me, the ransom of my bold attempt Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face; But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt The least of you shall share his part thereof. Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully; God and Saint George! Richmond and viaory ! [Exeunt. 270
Re-mter KING RICHA'RD, RATCLIFF, Att'llndants and Forces. K. Ricn. What said Northumberland as touching Richmond 1 R at. That he was never trained up in arms. K. Rick. He said the truth: and what said Surrey then? R at. He smiled and said 'The better for our purpose.' K. Rick. He was in the-right; and so indeed it is. [Clock strwtlt. • Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. V{ho saw the sun to-day? Rat. Not I, my lord. K. Rick. Then he disdains to shine; for by the book He should have braved the east an hour ago ~ A black day will it be to somebody. 280 Ratcliff! Rat. My lord? K. Rick. The sun will not be seen to-day; The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would these dewy tears were from, the ground. Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me More than to Richmond? for the selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. Enter NORFOLK. Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field. K. Rick. Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse. Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power: I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, 291 And thus my battle shall be ordered:
Act V Scene III KING RICHARD III • My foreward shall be drawn out all in length, Consisting equally of horse and foot: Our archers shall be placed in the midst: John Duke of Norfolk. Thomas Earl of Surrey. Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. They thus direCted, we will follow In the main battle, whose puissance on either side Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. 300 This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st thou, Norfolk? Nor. A good direCtion, warlike sovereign. This found I on my tent this morning. [HI she'Uretk him a paper. • K. Rick. [Rlads] 'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold. • For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.' A thing devised' by the enemy. Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge: Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls: • Conscience is but a woro. that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe: 310 Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law. March on, join bravely, let us to?t pell-meII; If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
His oration to his Army. What shall I say more than I have inferr'd? Remember whom you are to cope wilhal; A sort of vagabonds, l"ascals, and runaways, A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, Whom their O'er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate ventures and assured destruCtion. You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; 320 You having lands, and blest with beauteollS wives, • They would restrain the one, distain the other. And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost? A milk-sop, one that never in his life Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow? Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again; Lash hence these overweening rags of France, These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, 330 For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves : If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us, And not these bastard Bretons; whom our fathers • Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd, And in record, left them the heirs of shame. Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives? Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar t?ff.] Hark! I hear their drum. Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers-, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; • Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! 341
293 foreward. Vanguard. 304 Jockey. Familiar term for the name Jack. i.e. John
Howard. 30S Dickon. Dick or Richard.
309-310 Conscience . .. in awe. See introduction. 322 distain. Defile. 334 hobb'd. Cut short.
341 welkin. Sky.
William Smith, the 18th century actor, as Richard III. Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1775
Etzler a Messenger. What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power? Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come. K. Rick. Off with his son George's head! Nor. My lord, the enemy is past the marsh: After the battle let George Stanley die.
1029
KING RICHARD III Act V Scenes IV & V • cast. Throw of the dice or die.
10 hazard of the die. The chance of the dice.
K. Rich. A thousand hearts are gre.at within my bosom: Advanct: our standards, set upon our foes: Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! 350 Upon them! Vietory sits on our helms. [Exetmt. SCENE
IV.
A tlOther part 0/ the field.
Alarum: excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces.ligkting; to kin" CATESBY. Cate. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The king enaets more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger: His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost! Alarums.
Enter
KING RICHARD.
K. Rich. A horse! a horse'! my kingdom for a horse! Cate. Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse. • K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, • And I will stand the hazard of the die: 10 I think there be six Richmonds in the field; Five have I slain, to-day instead of him. A horse! a horse'! my kingdom for a horse!
[Exeunt. SCENE
David Garrick as Richard III, 1741
1. white ,ose and the ,ed. The white rose was the symbol of the house of York and the red rose, the house of Lancaster.
V.
Another part of the field.
A !arum. Enter RrcHARD and RICHMOND; they fig-ht. RICHARD is slain. Retreat and flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords. Ric/,m. God and your arms be praised, vietorious friends: The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. ner. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee. Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty }
289 the presence strew'd. The royal presence-chamber which was strewn with rushes.
291 measure. Stately dance.
Gaunt: 'Than a delightful measure or a dance.' From a
woodcut c.16so 292 gnarling. Snarling.
1049
KING RICHARD II Act I Scene IV • for. By.
24-35 Observed ... reversion his. See introductIon.
• The 'common people' of different trades. From a 17th century woodcut
30 affe€ts. Affections. 38 Expedient manage. Swift measures.
•
•
•
1050
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast 1 Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? 0, no! the apprehension of the good 300 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. Gaunt. Come, come, my son, 1'11 bring thee on thy way: Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Tke court. E nler tke KING, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and tke DUKE OF AUMERLE at altotker. K. Rick. We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, How far brought you high Hereford on his way? A 11m. I brought high Hereford, if yon call him so, But to the next highway, and there I left him. K. Rich. And say, what store of parting tears were shed? Aum. Faith, none for me; except the northeast wind, Which then blew bitterly against our faces, Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. K. Rick. What said our cousin when you parted with himf IO A U11t. 'Farewell:' And, for my heart disdained that my tongue Should :-0 profane the word, that tau~ht me craft To counterfeit oppression of such grief That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. Marry, would the word' farewell' have lengthen'd hours And added years to his short banishment, He should have had a volume of farewells; But since it would not, he had none of me. K. Rick. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, 20 \Vhen time shall call him home from banishment, \Vhether our kinsman come to see his friends. Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green Ubserved his courtship to the common people; How he did seem to dive into their hearts With humble and familiar courtesy, \Vhat reverence he did throwaway on slaves, Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles And patient under bearing of his fortune, As 'twere to banish their affects with him. 30 Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; A brace of draymen bid God speed him well And had the'tribute of his supple knee, With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' As were our England in reversion his, And he our subjects' next degree in hope. Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
Act II Scene I KING RICHARD II Ere further leisure yield them further means 40 For their advantage and your highness' loss. K. Rick. We will ourself in person to this war : And, for our coffers, with too great a court And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, • We are inforced to farm our royal realm; The revenue whereof shall furnish us For our affairs in hand: if that come short, • Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold And send them after to supply our wants; 51 For we will make for Ireland presently.
Enter
1. Ely H(}tlse. GAUNT sick, with tke YORK, be.
SCENE OF
48 blank charters. After they were sealed, any amount could be filled in. 10 gloss. Flatter.
BUSHY.
Bushy, what news? Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste To entreat your majesty to visit him. K. Rick. Where lies he? Bushy. At Ely House~ K. Rick. Now put it, God, in the physician's mind To help him to his grave immediately! 60 The lining of his coffers shall make coats To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! A ll. Amen. [ExeUltt. ACT II.
E1lter JOHN
45 info¥(;ed ro farm.. Forced to lease out royal lands for revenue.
DUKE OF
Male costumes at the time of Richard II. Engraving from a medieval manuscript
21-23 Report . .. imitatioo. See introduction.
Gaunt. Will the king come, that I may breathe my last In wholesome counsel to his unstaid vouth? Yorl.:. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. Gaunt. 0, but they say the tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony: Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. He that no more must say is listen'd more • Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; 10 More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past : Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, Lascivious metres, to whose venom !Wund The open ear of youth doth always listen; 20 • Report of fashions in proud Italy, Whose manners still our tardy apish nation Limps after in base imitation.
1051
KING RICHARD II Act II Scene I
The shield of John of Gaunt
45-49 This happy . .. lands. See introduction. 5& Jewry. Land of the Jews.
•
80 pelting. Paltry. &1-83 England . .. shame. See introduction.
•
• •
Where doth the world thrust forth a vanitySo it be new, there '5 no respect how vileThat is not quickly buzz'd into his ears? Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. DireCt not him whose way himself will choose: 'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. 30 Gaunt. Methinks I am a prophet new inspired And thus expiring do foretell of him: His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, For violent fires soon burn out themselves; Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, 40 This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infeCtion and the hand-of war, This happy breed of men, this little world. This precious stone set in the silver sea, \Vhich serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, 50 This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry . Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, Like to a tenement or pelting farm: 60 England, bound in with the triumphant sea, 'Vhos.: rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, 'With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. Ah, would the scandal vanish with my lift; How happy then were my ensuing death!
Enter
KING ·RICHARD and QUEEN, AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, EAGOT, Ross, and WILLOUGHBY.
Walter Lacy as John of Gaunt in Charles Kean's production, Princess's Theatre, London, 1857
1052
York. The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; 69 F or young hot colts being traged do rage the more. Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster! K. Rich. What comfort, man? how :s't with aged Gaunt? Gaunt. 0, how that name befits my composition! Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, Is my striCtfast; I mean, mychildren'slooks; 80 And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
Act II Scene I KING RICHARD II Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. K. Rick. Can lo'ick men play 50 nicely with their names? Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself: Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. K. Rick. Should dying men flatter with those that live? Gaunt. No, no, men living flatter those that die. K. Rick. Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterelot me. 90 Gaunt. 0, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. K. Rick. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill Gaunt. Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; III in myself to see, and in thee seeing lll. Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; And thou, too careless patient as thou art, Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure Of those physicians that first wounded thee: thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, 100 Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; • And yet, incaged in so small a verge, The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. 0, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, I quiet as thy father's skull : In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn; 70 Engage it to the trial, if thou darest. • Fitt:. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies, And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correCtion. As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say 80 That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais. Autn. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage, That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, lfhe may be repeal'd, to try his honour. Boling. These differences shall all rest under gage Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be, And, though mine enemy, restored again To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd, Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial. 90 Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen. Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens: And toil'd with works of war, retired himself To Italy; and there at Venice gave His hocly to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long. 100 Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? Car. As surely as I live, my lord. Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom Of good old A braham! Lords appellants, Your differences shall all rest under gage Till we assign you to your days of trial.
•
The seal of Robert Fitzwater. Engraving from J .R. Green's Short History of the Enghlh People, 1903
52 I task . . . the like. I load the earth with a similar burden. i.e. the gage.
57 sets. Challenges.
n
fondly. Foolishly. forward. Eager.
Etl-ter YORK, atte1Uled.
York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
Costume design for Aumerle by Percy Anderson,
1922
1075
KING RICHARD II Act IV Scene I 'Ui Wont. Lowest in rank..
'37-'4'
The blood . .. confound. See introduction.
,.. Procure . . . answer. Get those men who are prepared to act as auarantors for the day of the trial.
From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand: no Ascend his throne, descending now from him; And long live Henry, fourth of that name I Boling. In God's name, I'U ascend the regal throne. Car. Marry, God forbid! • Worst in this royal presence-may r speak, Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. Would God that any in this noble presence Were enough noble to be upright judge Of noble Richard! then true noblesse would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. %20 What subject can give sentence on his king? And who sits here that is not Richard's subjeCt:? Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them; And shall the figure of God's majesty, His captain, steward, deputy-elec1, Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judged by subjeCt: and inferior breath, And he himself not present? 0, forfend it, God, That in a Christian climate souls refined 130 Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed L I spe.ak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king. My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king: And if you crown him, let me prophesy: • The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul aCt:; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars 140 Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound; Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls. 0, if you raise this house against this house, I t will the woefllllest division prove That ever fell upon this cursed earth. Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, Lest child, child's children, cry against you 'wo'e !' Nortlt. W:ell have you argued, sir; and, for your pams, 150 Of capital treason we arrest you here. My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge To keep him safely till his day of trial. May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit. Boling. Fetch hither Rich'ard, that in common view He may surrender; so we shall proceed Without suspicion. York. I will be his condua. [Exit. Bolbtg. Lords, you that here are under our arrest, • Procure your sureties for your days of answer. Little are we beholding to your love, 160 And ·little look'd for at your helping hands. Re-enter YORK, witlt RICHARD, and Officers bearing ilte regalia. K. Rick, Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal th9ughts Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
1076
Act IV Scene I KING RICHARD II Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me • To this submission. Yet I well remember The favours of these men: were they not mine? Did they not sometime cry, 'all hail!' to me? So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, 170 Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none. God save the king! Will no man say amen? Am I b0th priest and clerk? well then, amen. God save the king! although I be not he; And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me. To do what service am I sent for hither? York. To do that office of thine own good will Which tired majesty did make thee offer, The resignation of thy state and crown To Henry Bolingbroke. Il:lO K. Rich. Give me the croy,n. Here, cousin, seize the crown; Here com;in; On this side my hand, and on that side yours. N ow is this golden crown like a deep well That owes two buckets, filling one another, The emptier ever dancing ip. the air, The other down, unseen and full of water: That bucket down and full of tears am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. Boling. I thought you had been willing to 190 resign. K. Ric/t. My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine: You may my glories and my state depose, But not my griefs; still am I king of those. Boling. Part of your cares you give me with your crown. K. Rit.-h. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. My care is loss of care, by old care done; Your care is gain of care, by new care won: The cares I give I have, though given away; They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. Boling. Are you contented to resign the 200 crown? K. Ric/t. Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be; Therefore no no, for I resign to thee. N ow mark me, how I will undo myself: I give this heavy weight from off my hcltd And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand, The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; With mine own tears I wash away my balm, With mine own hands I give away my crown, With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, With mine own breath release all duty's rites: All pomp and majesty I do forswear; 211 My manors, rents, revenues I forego; My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny: God pardon all oaths that are broke to me ! God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee! Make me, that nothing have, with nothin,; grieved, And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved! Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit! God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says, And send him many years of sunshine days! 221 What more remains? North. No more, but that you read These accusations and these grievous crimes
167-119 Yet I ... to me. See introduction.
Richard: 'Here, cousin, seize the crown;' Frank Benson as Richard II, Lycewn Theatre, London, 1900
1077
KING RICHARD II Act IV Scene I 228 ravel out. Unravel. 238 bait. Torment.
248 sort. Group.
Parliament deposing Richard II and electing Henry IV.
Engraving from a medieval manuscript
Committed by your person and your followers Against the state and profit of this land; That, by confessing them, the souls of men May deem that you are worthily deposed.. • K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weaved-up folly? Gentle N.orthumberland, If thy offences were upon record, 230 Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, There shouldst thou find one heinous article, Containing the deposing of a king And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven: Nay, all of you that stand and look upon, • Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates 240 Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, And water cannot wa."h away your sin . .North. My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much • But they can see a sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, I find myself a traitor with the rest; For I have given here my soul's consent To undeck the pompous body of a king; 250 Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. North. lVIy 10!'d,K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title, No, not that name was given me at the font, But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day, That I have worn so many winters out, . And know not now what name to call myself! o that I were a mockery king of snow, 260 Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, To melt myself away in water-drops! Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, An if my word be sterling yet in England, Let it command a mirror hither straight, That it may show me what a face I have, Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. Bolillg-. Go some of rou and fetch a lookingglass. [Exit (w atte1ldallt. Jolo1'"tit. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. K. Rich. Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I 270 come to hell! Bolillg-. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. North. The commons will not then be satisfied. K. Riel,. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enou~h,
When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. Re-eJ,ter Attendant, with a glass. Give me the glass, and therein will I read. No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine, And made no deeper wounds? 0 flattering glac;s, Like to my followers in prosperity, 280
1078
Act IV Scene I KING RICHARD II Thou dost beguile me! \Vas this face the face That every day under his household roof Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face That, like the SlIn, did make beholders wink Y \Vas this the face that faced so many follies, And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke? A brittle glory shineth in this face: As brittle as the glory is the face; [Dashes tlte glass agai1tst the ground. For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers. l\I ark, silent king, the moral of this sport, 290 How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. Bolin..f'. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow of your face. K. Ricn. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see: 'Tis very true, my grieflies all within; And these external manners of laments Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul; There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king, For thy great bounty, that not only givest 300 Me cause to wail but teach est me the way How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, And then he gone and trouble you no more. Shall I obtain it? Bolittg. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. 'Fair cousin'? I am greater than a king: For when I was a king, my flatterers \Vere then but subjects; being now a subjeCt, 1 have a king here to my flatterer. Being so great, I have no need to beg. Boling. Yet a.~'I'i! .o..j,l·~:::"
1 \,'"
(i' ':.i,i'f( '-11. ", ,'- .,'
HABIT 01" TEE PERISD: lilt· IlrlJ"',,"w'" awl j ~·(·t,ratJ'llI'" i ".'lH~· fj u;d, . . J, .. !;,l'~l' ;..: __ \U'u!I,(i
k''''
• JlflllIlIIlt'lIll1/ l~ffi:!.·it',1,·. 'Ib.. Prr" ....... " .. ;\h,
•....·('tf/Ii. ilf/iNti/,uft-1i .Jf...... .,.• t~,\l..'Il-:I,. ,\Ji_ ,.·t . ". "'I.: ·\·~' ... h.f;i •.
"4~ Ii '."J:n~. sHILl.;)"i, ~tt.~i .. tb"
l~n"·I·II.I". L\ 'i .....
King .)Ohll,.. .11,'.'
,! ~>
'is ... II"~"':
-rat"·.....
.\4';;;"-
~'n.
I,,: ,q~
HB·\h\\ LI:'
h.
,"Of~:\ (i.
"
.
W".
Prillf't, Tlelll·\·. 'Ii .. , ('. BOBE'. J':arl Pi' PI'IiiIt .., ,1.,' ':!:'. ~il: \ Earl (If I the several devils' names That were his lackeys: I cried • hum,' and 'well, go to,' But mark'd him not a word. 0, he is as tedious As a tired hone, a railing wife; 160 Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, • Than feed on cates and have him talk to me In any summer-house in Christendom. Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, Exceedingly well read, and profited In strange- concealments, valiant as a lion And wondrous affable and as bountiful As mines of India. Shall T teU you,. cousin! He holds your temper in a high respeCt 1.70 And curbs himself even of his natural scope When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: I warrant you, that man is not alive Might so have tempted him as you have done, Without the taste of danger and reproof: But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilfulblame; And since your coming hither have done enough To put him quite beside his patience. You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,1.81 And that'5 the dearest grace it renders you,Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, DefeCt of manners, want of government, Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: The least of which haunting a nobleman Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain Upon the beauty of all parts besides, Beguiling them of commendation. I1t1l. Well, I am schoofd: good manners be your speed t 190 Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
Re-enter GLEN DOWER with the ladies. Morl. This is the deadly spite that angers me; My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. Glena. My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; ..
1184
----.
Act III Scene I KING HENRY IV Part I She 'II be a soldier too, she'l1 to the wars. Mort. Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduCt speedily. (GlendMlleT speaks to Iter in Welsh, and site answers kim
in the same.
Glend. She is desperate here; a peevish selfwill'd harlotry, one that no persuasiou can do good upon. [TIte lady speaks in Welsh. Mor!. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh 201 Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, In such a parley should [answer thee. [TIte lady speaks again in Welslt. I understand thy kisses and thou mine, And that's a feeling disputation: But I will never be a truant, love, Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sun, by a fair queen in a summer's bower, 210 • With ravishing division, to her lute. Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. (The lady speaks again in Welsh. Mort. 0, I am ignorance itself in this ! Glend. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down And rest your gentle head upon her lap, And she will sing the song that pleaseth you And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep, Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, Making such difference 'tWixt wake and sleep As is the difference betwixt day and night 220 The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team Begins his_g~den progress in the east. Mort. With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: • By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. Glend. Do so; And those musicians that shall play to you Hang in the air a th~usand leagues from hence, And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. Hoi. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, quick, quick. that I may lay my head in thy lap. 231 Lady P. Go, yegiddy goose. (The music jlays. Hot. Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. By'r lady, he is a good musician. Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical, for you are altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sinv. in Welsh. • Hot. I had rather hear Lady. my brach, howl in Irish. 241 Lady P. Wouldst thou have thy head broken? Hot. No. Lady P. Then be still. . Hot. Neither; 'tis a woman's fault. Lady P. Now God help thee I Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed. Lady P. What's that! Hoi. Peace! she sings. [Hert! tk /adysings a Welsh song. Hot. Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. Lady P. Not mine, in good sooth. 251
21 1 division. Passage of short notes.
224 book. i.e. the indenture.
240 brach. Bitch-hound.
Ann Todd as Lady Percy and John Neville as Hotspur, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1955
1185
KING HENRY IV Part I Act III Scene II
253 comfit-maher's. Confectioner's. 2S6 sarcenet. Thin silk; therefore, insubstantial.
257 Finsbmy. Field near London, archery ground and favourite resort of citizens.
Hoi. Not yours, in good sooth I Heart! you • swear like a comfit-maker's wife. • Not you, ill good sooth,' and 'as true as I live,' and • as God shall mend me,' and 'as sure as day,' • And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oath.... • As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art. A good mouth-filling oath, and leave • in sooth,' And such protes~ of pepper-gingerbread. 260 • To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. COlne, sing. Lady P. I will not sing. • Hoi. ~Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast teacher. An the indentures be drawn. I'n away within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. [Exit. Glend. Come, come, Lord Mortimer; youare as slow As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. By this our book IS drawn; we'll but seal, 270 And then to horse immediately. • Mort. W.ith all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE
I I.
London.
The palace.
EIIIer the KING, PRINCE OF WALES, and otlters. Archers and onlookers in Finsbury Field. Detail from Ralph Agas's map of London c.I560-70
2&1 velvet-guards. Trimmed with velvet. Hotspur refers to citizens' Sunday finery.
2&4--2&5 next 'way ... teacher. i.e. the easiest way to become a singer and teach birds to sing.
23 reproof. Disproof.
25 pick-thanks. Flatterers.
Opposite: Prince Hal reprimanded by the King. Drawing by Anthony Walker (1726-65)
1186
Ki~tg.
Lords. give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I Must have some private conference: but be near at hand. For we shall presently have need of you.
[Exeunt Lon/s. I know not whether God will have it so, For some displeasing service I have done, That, in his secret doom, out of my blood He'lI breed revengement and a scourge for me; But thou dost in thy passages of life Make me believe that thou art only mark'd For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven IO To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else. Could such inordinate and low desires, Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, Such barren pleasures, rude society, As thou art match'd withal. and grafted to, Accompany the greatness of thy blood And hold their level with thy princely heart' Prince. So please your majesty, I would I could Quit all offences with as clear excuse As well as I am doubtless I can purge 20 Myself of many I am charged withal: Yet such extenuation let me beg, • As, in reproof of many tales devised, Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, • By smiling pick-thanks and base newsmongers, I may, for some things true, wherein my youth Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, Find pardon on my true submission. King. God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, At thy affeCtions, which do hold a wing 30 Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, Which by thy younger brother is supplied, And art almost an alien to the hearts Of all the court and princes of my blood: The hope and expeCtation of thy time Is ruin'd, and the soul of every roan
Act III Scene II KING HENRY IV Part I
1187
KING HENRY IV Part I Act III Scene II 60 skipping. Flighty.
6' rash bavin. Quick burning. 62 carded. Degraded himself. 66 stand the push. Serve as a butt.
69 Enfeoft'd. Surrendered. 77 community. Commonness. 98 inurest. Title.
• • •
• •
•
•
1188
Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. Had I so lavish of my presence been, So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, 40 So stale and cheap to vulgar company, Opinion. that did help me to the crown. Had still kept loyal to possession And left me in reputeless banishment, A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. By being seldom seen, I could not stir But like a comet I was wonder'd at; That men would tell their children (This is he ; , Others would say' Where, which is Bolingbroke?' And then I sto1e all courtesy from heaven, 50 And dress'd myself in such humility That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, Even in the presence of the crowned king. Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; My presence, like a robe pontifical, Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast And won by rareness such solemnity. The skipping king, he ambled up and down 60 With shallow jesters and rash bavul wits, Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, Mingled his royalty with capering fools, Had his great name profaned with their scorns And gave his countenance, against his name, To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push Of every beardless vain comparative. Grew a companion to the common streets, Enfeoft'd himself to popularity; That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, 70 They surfeited with honey and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. So when he had occasion to be seen, He was but as the cuckoo is in June. Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes As, sick and blunted with community, Afford no extraordinary gaze, Such as is bent on sun-like majesty When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; 80 But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down, Slept in his face and render'd such aspea As cloudy men use to their adversaries~ Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. And in that very line, Harry, standest thou ; For thou hast lost thy princely privilege With vile participation: not an eye But is a-weary of thy common sight, Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; Which now doth that I would not have it do, go Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. Prince. I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, Be more myself. King. For all the world As thou art to this hour was Richard then When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh. And even as I was then is Percy now. Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot~ He hath morc worthy interest to the state Than thou the shadow of succession; For of DO right, nor colour like to right, %00 He doth fin fields with harness in the realm, Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, And, being no more in debt to years than thou, Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops. on
Act III Scene II KING HENRY IV Part I
•
•
•
•
•
To bloody battles and to bruising arms. What never-dying honour hath he got Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, Whose hot incursions and great name in arms Holds from all soldiers chief majority And military title capital lIO Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swatbling clothes, This infant warrior, in his enterprizes Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, Enlarged him and made a friend of him, To fill the mouth of deep defiance up And shake the peace and safety of our throne. And what say you to this? Percy, N orthumberland, The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, Capitulate against us and are up. no But wherefore do I tell these news to thee! Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?' Thou that art like enough, through vassal rear, Base inclination and the start of spleen, To fight against me under Percy's pay, To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, To show how much thou art degenerate. Pri1tce. Do not think so; you shall not find it so: And God forgive them that so much have swa:rd Your majesty's a-ood thoughts away from me ! 131 I will redeem all this on Percy's head And in the closing of some glorious day Be bold to tell you that I am your son; ·When I will wear a garment all of blood And stain my favours in a bloody mask, Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, That this same child of honour and renown, This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, 140 And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. For every honour sitting on his helm, Would they were multitudes, and on my head My shames redoubled! for the time will come, That I shall make this northern youth exchange His glorious deeds for my indignities. Percy is but my factor, good my lord, To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; And I will call him to so strict account, That he shall render every glory up, ISO Yea, even the slightest worship of his time. Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. This, in the Dame of God, I promise here : The which if He be ple.ased I shall perform, I do beseech your majesty may salve The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: If not, the end of life cancels all bands; And I will die a hundred thousand deaths Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. Killg. A hundred thousand rebels die in this: ThOll shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. 16x
How
DOW,
Henry IV (1367-1413), first Lancastrian king of England, who deposed Richard II in 1399. Engraving from John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine, 1611-12
115 Enlarged. Released.
1m
Capitulate. Draw a contract up. In revolt.
125 spleen. Perversity. 136 favours. Features.
147 factor. Agent.
Enter BLUNT. good Blunt! thy looks are full of
speed.
1189
KING HENRY IV Part I Act III Scene III 176 account. Arrangement. 5 apple-john. An apple, though withered, still edible.
23 compass. i.e. both 'limit' and 'girth'. 34 Death's-head. Skull and cross bones. 36 Dives. Biblical figure and symbol of wealth and gluttony.
Blunt. So hath the business that I CQ1l'le to speak of. Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word That Douglas and the English rebels met The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury: A mighty and a fearful head they are, If promises be kept on every hand, As ever offer'd foul play in a state. King. The Earl of Westmoreland set forth tOHday; 170 With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; For this advertisement is five days old: On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward: On Thursciaywe ourselves will march ! our meeting Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march • Through Gloucestershire; by which account, Our bUsiness valued, some twelve days hence Our general forces at Brldgenorth shall meet. Our hands are lull of business: let's away; Advantage feeds hiIll fat, while men delay. ISo [Exeunt. SCENE
IlL Eastcltea;. TIt.e Boars-Hcali' T 4t11!1"N..
Enter F ALST AFF and BARDOLPH. Fa!. Bardolp~ am I not fallen away vilely since this last aCtion? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why, my skin bangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am withered like an old • apple-john. Well, I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I shall have no strength to repent. An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a
Falstaff and Bardolph. Drawing by I.M. Wright (1777-1866)
1190
brewer's horse: the inside of a church! Company, villanous company, hath been the spoil of me. Bard. Sir John. you are so fretful, you cannot live long. Fal. Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman need. to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house not above once in a quarter-o[ an hour; paid money that I borrowed, three or four times; lived well and in good compass: and now I live out of all order, • out of all compass. Bard. Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John. Fa/. Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop, but'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp. 30 Bard. Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. . Fal. No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use • of it as many a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento moo: I never see thy face but I think • upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou
Act III Scene III KING HENRY IV Part I rannest up Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think ~ou hadst been an • ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. 0, thou art a. perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking wi.th thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack tha.t thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have • maintained that salamander of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years; God reward me for it! Bani. 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly! Fal. God-a-mercy! so shoald I be sure to be heart-burned.
Enter
•
•
• •
•
45 ignis fatuus. Will_oJ -the-wisp. 53 salamander. Lizard said to live in fire.
79 Dowlas. Coarse linen. 81 bolteTS. Cloth for sieving corn.
82 hollaM. Fine linen. 83 ell. A measure of
It yards.
92 younker. Novice.
HOSTBSS.
How now, Dame Partlet the henl have you inquired yet who picked my pocket? 61 Host. Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think I keep thieves in my house! I have searched, I have inquired, 50 has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before. Fal. Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Go to, you are a woman, go. Host. Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's ligh~ I was never called so in mine own house before. F ale Go to, I know you well enough. Host. No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it:· I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back. Fal. Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away to bakers' wives. and they have made bolters of them. 81. Host. Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell. You owe money h!:!'e besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lent you, four and tweDty pound. Fal. He had. his part of it; let him pay. Host. He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing. Fal. How! poor Y look upon his face; what call you rich? let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks: I'll not pay a denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark. Host. 0 J esa. I have heard the prince tell him, I know not how oft, that that ring was copper! Fal. How! the prince is a Jack, a sne.ak-cup: 'sblood, an he were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so. lOX
Enter tlte
PRINCE alla PETO, marclting, and FALSTAFF me.ets tltem playvlgon his truncheon
Falstaff and Mistress Quickly. This engraving (c.I662) used as the frontispiece to Thomas Kirkman's The Wits, or Sport upon Sport, 1672, is the earliest published illustration of these Shakespearean characters
104 Newgate fashion. Prisoners were shackled two by two to be led to Newaate prison.
like a.fife. How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith? must we all march? • Bard. Yea, two and two, N ewgate fashion. Host. My lord, I pray you, hear me.
1191
KING HENRY IV Part I Act III Scene III 129 Maid Mmion. Disreputable woman in morris dances.
130 deputy's wife. i.e. very respectable. '52 ought. Owed.
Falstaff: 'A thousand pound, Hal! . . . thy love is worth a million'. Engraving from a painting by Robert Smirke (1752-1845)
1192
Prince. What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband! I love him well; he is an honest man. Host. Good my lord, hear me. Fal. Prithee, let her alone~ and list to me. Prince. What sayest thou, JackY III Fal. The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras and had my pocket plcked: this bouse is turned bawdy-house; they pick pockets. Prince. What didst thou lose, Jack? Fal. Wilt thou believe me, Hal! three or four bonds of forty pound a-piece, and a seal-ring of my grandfather's. Prince. A trifle, some eight-penny matter. Host. So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your grace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and said he would cudgel you. Pri/,ee. What! he did not? Host. There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else. Fa/. There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune; nor no more truth in thee than in • a drawn fox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian • may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. 131 Go, you thing, go. Host. Say, what thing? what thing? Fal. What thing! why, a thing to thank God on. Host. I am no thing to thank God on, I would thou shouldst know it; I am an honest man's wife: and, setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so. Fal. Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise. 140 H osl. Say, what beast, thou knave, thou! Fal. What beast! why, an otter. PrlllCe. An otter, Sir John! why an otter? Fal. Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have her. Host. Thou art an lmjust man in saying so: thou or any man knows where to have me, thou knave, thou! Pritlce. Thou sayest true, hostess; and he slander~ thee most grossly. 150 Host. So he doth you, my lord; and said • this other day you ought him a thousand pound. Prlilce. Sirrah, do lowe you a thousand pound? Fal. A thousand pound, Hal! a million: thy love is worth a million: thou owest me thy love. Host. Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he would cudgel you. 160 .Fal. Did I, Bardolph? Bard. Indeed, Sir John, you said so. Fal. Yea, if he said my ring was copper. PrillCe. I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now? Fal. Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare: but as thou art prince. I fear thee as I fear the roaring of the lion's whelp. Pri1lce. And why not as the lion? Fal. The king himself is to be feared as the lion: dost thou think I '11 fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, an I do, I pray God my girdle break. Pri'lce. 0, if it should, how would thy guts fait about thy knees! But, sirrah, there'll no room for faith, truth, nor honesty in this bosom
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY IV Part I of .thiRe: it is all filled up with guts and midriJt Charge an honest woman with picking thy pocket ! • why, thou whoreson, impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything in thy pocket but tavernreckonings, memorandums of bawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth of sugar-amdy to make thee long-winded, if thy pocket were enriched with any other injuries but these. I am a villain: and yet you will stand to it; you will not pocket up wrong: art thou not ashamed? Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state of innocency Adam fell: and what should ~or Jack Falstaff' do in the days of villany? fhou seest I have more flesh than another man, and therefore more frailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket! 190 Prince. It appears so by the story. Fal. Hostess, I forgive thee: go, make ready breakfast; love thy husband, look to thy servants, cherish thy guests: thou shalt find me tradable to any honest reason: thou seest r am pacified still. Nay, prithee, be gone. [Exit Hostess.] Now, Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery, lad, how is that answered ? Prince. 0, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee: the money is paid back again. 200 Fal. 0, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour. Prince. I am good friends with my father and may do any thing. Fal. Rob me the exchequer the first thing • thou doest, and do it with unwashed hands too. Bard. Do, my lord. PWlce. I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot. 209 Fal. J would it had been of horse. Where shall I find one that can steal well? for a fine thief, of the age of two and twenty or thereabouts! I am heinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked for these rebels, they offend none but the virtuous: I laud them, I praise them. Prillce. Bardolph! Bard. My lord? Prince. Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to my brother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland. [Exit Bardolplt.] Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I have thirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time. [Exit Peto.] Jack, meet me to-morrow in the Temple hall at two o'clock in the afternoon. There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receive Money and order for their furniture. The land is burning; Percy stands on high; And either we or they must lower lie. [Exit. Fal. Rare words! brave world! Hostess, my breakfast, come! 229 0, I could wish this tavern weremydrum! [Exit.
177 embossed. Swollen.
°
Costume design for Mistress Quickly by Ann Curtis, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1964
206 with unwashed hands. Without delay.
ACL'IV. SCENE
I.
Tlte rebel camp
ll;{fY
Skre'LVsoury.
Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, alld DOUGLAS. Hot. Well said, my noble Scot: if speaking truth In this fine age were not thought flattery, Such attribution should the Douglas have, As not a soldier of this season'l> stamp
1193
KING HENRY IV Part I Act IV Scene I 33 drawn.. Assembled.
47 main. Stake. 61 hmT. Nature.
Should go so general current through the world. By God, I cannot flaUer; I do defy The tongues of soothers; but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself: Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord. Doug. Thou art the king of honour: 10 No Ulan so potent breathes upon the ground But I will beard him. Hot. Do so, and 'tis well.
Enter a Messenger with letters. Whatletters hast thou there 1-1 can but thank you. Mess. These letters come from your father. Hot. Letters from him J why comes he not himself? Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he is grievous sick. Hot. 'Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick In such a justling time? Who leads his power? Under whose government come they along? I9 Meu. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord. Wore I prithee, tell me, doth he keep his bed? Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth ; And at the time of my departure thence He was much fear'd by his physicians. Wore I would the state of time had first been whole Ere he by sickness had been visited: His health was never better worth than now. Hot. Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infeCt The very life-blood of our enterprise; 'TiS catching hither, even to our camp. 30 tHe writes me here, that inward sicknessAnd that his friends by deputation could not • So soon be drawn, nor did he think it meet To lay so dangerous and dear a trust On any soul removed but on his own. Yet doth he give us bold advertisement, That with our small conjunction we should on, To see how fortune is disposed to us; For, as he writes, there is no quailing now, Because the king is certainly possess'd 40 Of all our purposes. What say you to it? Wore Your father's sickness is a maim to us. Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off': And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want Seems more than we shall find it: were it good To set the exaCt wealth of all our states • All at one cast? to set so rich a main On the nice ha:zard of one doubtful hour? I t were not good; tfor therein should we read The very bottom and the soul of hope, 50 The very list, the very utmost bound . Of al1.our fortunes. Doug. 'Faith, and so we should; Where now remains a sweet reversion: tWe may boldly spend upon the hope of what Is to come in: A comfort of retirement lives in this. Hot. A rendezvous, a home to fly unto, If that the devil aud mischance look big Upon the maidenhead of our aff'airs. Wor. But yet I would your father had been here. 60 • The quality and hair of our attempt Brooks no division: it will be thought ~ some, that know not why he is away, That wisdom, loyalty and mere dislike 1194
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY IV Part I Of our proceedings kept the earl from hence: And think how such an apprehension May turn the tide of fearful faction And breed a kind of question in our cause; For well you know we of the offering side • Must keep aloof from striCt arbitrement, 70 And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence The eye of reason may pry in upon us: This absence of your father's draws a curtain, That shows the Ignorant a kind of fear Before not dreamt of. Hot. You strain too far. I rather of his absence make this use: It lends a lustre and more great opinion, A larger dare to our grea.t enterprise, Than if the earl were here; for men must think, If we without his help can make a head 80 To push against a kingdom, with his help We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down. Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole. Doug. As heart can think; there is not such a word Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fe.ar.
70 arbitrement. Scrutiny.
Entcr SIR RICHARD VERNON. Hot. My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul. Vcr. Pray God my news be warth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
•
• •
•
•
Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince J ahA Hot. No harm: what more? Ver. And further, I have learn'd, go The king himself in person is set forth, Or hitherwards intended speedily, With strong and mighty preparation. Hot. HeshaUbewelcometoo. \Vhereishisson, The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales, And his comrades, that daff'd the world aside. And bid it pass? Vcr. All furnish'd, all in arms; tAll plumed like estridges that with the wind Baited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats, like images; 100 As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer; Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls. I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To tum and wind a fiery Pegasus And witch the world with noble horsemanship. Hot. No more, no more: worse than the sun in March, III This praise doth nourish agnes. Let them come; They come like sacrifices in their trim, And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war All hot and bleeding will we offer them : The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire To hear this rich r~risal is so nigh And yet not ours. Come, let me taste my horse, Who is to bear me like a thunderbolt 120 Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales : Harry to Harry shall, hot horse to horse, Meet and ne'er part till one drop down a corse. o that Glendower were come! Ver. There is more news;
Vernon: 'All furnish'd, all in arms'. Soldiers of the Tudor period. Engraving from Edwin Goadby's England of Shakespeare, 1902
98 estridges. Ostriches. 104 beavel'. Helmet.
A beaver. EngraviIli by F.W. Fairholt from J.O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65
105 wisses. Armour for the thighs. 109 Pegasus. Winged horse of Greek mythology. 119 taste. Feel.
1195
KING HENRY IV Part I Act IV Scene II I leam'd in Worcester, as I rode along, He cannot draw his power this fourteen days. Dou(. That's the worst tidings that I hear Of yet. Wor. Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound. Hot. What may the king's whole battle reach unto! Ver. To thirty thousand. Hot. Forty let it be : 130 My father and Glendower being both away, The powers of us may serve so great a day. Come, let us take a muster speedily: Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily. Doug. Talk not of dying: I am out of fear Of death or death's band for this one-half year. [E.uunt.
A public road 1tear COvell try. Enter FALSTAFF a1td BARDOLPH. Fal. Bardolph) get thee before to Coventry ; fill me a bottle of sack: our soldiers shall march through; we'll to Sutton Co'fil' to-night. Bard. Will you give me money, captain? Fal. Layout, layout. • Bard. This bottle mak~ an angel. Fal. An if it do, take it for thy labour; and if it make twenty, talce them all; 1'11 answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant. Peto meet me at town's end. 10 Bard. I will, captain: farewell. [Ext't. Fal If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. I have misused the king's press damnably. I have got, in exchange of a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pound!>, I press me none but good householders, yeomen's sons; inquire me out contracted bachelors, such as had been asked twice on the banns; such a commodity of warm slaves, as had as Heve hear the devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a • caliver worse than a struck fowl or a hurt wildduck. I pressed me none but such toasts-and· butter, with hearts in their bellies no bigger than pins' heads, and they have bought out their services; and now my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants, gentlemen of • companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores; and such as indeed were never soldiers, but discarded unjust serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters and ostlers trade-fallen, the cankers of a calm world and a long peace, ten times more dishonoura ble ragged than an old faced ancient: and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that have bought out their services, that you would think that I had a hundred and fifty tattered prodigals lately come • from swine-keeping, from eating draft' and husks. A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of tht'm out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's ScENE
Falstaff: ' ... we'll to Sutton Co'fil' to-night' Detail from a map of Warwickshire showing SutWn Coalfield (Cofeld). Engraving from John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine, 1611-12 6 angel. Coin worth ten shilliIliS. 21 caliver. Musket.
27-28 Lazarus in the fHJinted cloth. The figure of the beggar, Lazarus, in painted wall hangings. 38 draff. Pig's swill.
1196
II.
Act IV Scene III KING HENRY IV Part I coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say the truth. stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. But that's • all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
52 they'll find linen enough on every hedge. Linen was spread out to dry on hedees.
Enter the PRINCE and WESTMORELAND. Prbtce. How now, blown Jack! how I\OW, quilt!
Fal. What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou in Warwick,shire? My good Lord of .Westmoreland, I cry you mercy: I thought your honour had already been at Shrews-bury. 59 West. Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already. The king, I can tell you, looks for us all: we must away all night. Fal. Tut, never fear me: I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream. Prince. I think, to steal cream indeed, for thy theft hath already made thee butter. But teU me, Jack, whose fellows are these that come after? Fal. Mine, Hal, mine. 69 Prince. I did never see such pitiful rascals. F al. Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food lor powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as well as better; tusht man, mortal men, mortal men. West. Ay, bUt, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare, too beggarly. Fal. 'Faith, for their poverty. I know not where they had that; and for their bareness, I am sure they nevt:r learned that of me. Pri'lce. No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs bare. But, sirrah, make haste: Percy is already in the field. 81 Fal. What, is the king encamped? West. He is, Sir John: I fear we shall stay too long. Fal. Well, To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast 85 Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest. [Exeuttt. ScENE
III. TIte rebel camp Ilear Shrewsbury.
Enter
HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, DOUGLAS, VERNON.
Hot.
aIM
We'll fight with him to-night. Wor. It may not.be. Doug-. You give him then advantage. Ver. Not a whit. Hot. Why say you so? looks he not for supply? Ver. So do we. Bot. His is certain, ours is doubtful. Wor. Good cousin, be advised; stir not tonight. Ver. Do not, my lord. Doug-. You do not counsel well : You speak it out of fear and cold heart. Ver. Do me no slander. Douglas: by my life, And I dare well maintain it with my life, If well-respeCted honour bid me on, 10 I hold as little counsel with weak fear As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives : Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle Which of us fears. Doug-. Yea, or to-night. Ver. Content. Hot. To-night, say 1.
Costume design for Falstaff by Ann Curtis, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1964
1197
KING HENRY IV Part I Act IV Scene III
62 sue his livery. Demand possession of his property.
Ver. Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much, Being men of such great leading as you are, That you foresee not what impediments Drag back our expedition: certain horse Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up: 20 Your uncle Worcester's horse came but to-day; And now their pride and mettle is asleep, Their courage with hard labour tame and dull, That not a horse is half the half of himself. Hot. So are the horses of the enemy In general, jonmey-bated and brought low: The better part of ours are full of rest. Wor. The number of the king exceedeth ours : For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in. [The trumpet sounds ajarley. Enter SIR WALTER BLUNT. Blunt. I come with gracious offers from the king, 30 If you vouchsafe me hearing and respeCt. Hot. Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God You were of our determination! Some of us love you well; and even those some Envy your great deservings and good name, Becauselou are not of our quality, But stan against us like an enemy. Blunt. And God defend but still I should stand so, So long as out of limit and true rule 40 You stand against anointed majesty. But to my charge. The king hath sent to know The nature of your griefs, and whereupon You conjure from the breast of civil peace Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land Audacious cruelty. If that the king Have any way your good deserts forgot, Which he confesseth to be manifold, He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed You shall have your desires with interest And :pardon absolute for yourself and these 50 Herem misled by your suggestion. Hot. The king is kind; and well we know the king Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. My father and my uncle and myself Did give him tha.t same royalty he wears; And when he was not six and twenty s.trong, Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, A poor unminded outfaw sneaking home, My father gave him welcome to the shore ; And when he heard him swear and vow to God 60 He came but to be Duke of Lancaster, • To sue his livery and beg his peace, With tears of innocency and terms of zeal, My father, in kind heart and pity moved, Swore him assistance and perform'd it too. Now when the lords and barons of the realm Perceived Northumberland did lean to him, The more and less came in with cap and knee; Met him in boroughs, cities, villages, Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, 70 Laid gifts before him, proffer'd him their oaths, Gave him their heirs, as pages follow'd him Even at the heels in golden multitudes. He presently, as greatness knows itself, Steps me a little higher than his vow Made to my father, while his blood was poor,
1198
Act IV Scene IV KING HENRY IV Part I Upon the naked shore at Ravenspurgh; And now, forsooth, takes on him to reform Some certain edids and some strait decrees That lie too heavy on the commonwealth, 80 Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep Over his country's wrongs; and by thi" face, This seeming brow of justice, did he win The heart!> of all that he did angle for; Proceeded further; cut me off the heads Of all the favourites that the absent king In deputation left behind him here, When he was personal in the Irish war. Bl1ml. Tut, I came not to hear this. Hot. Then to the point. In short time after, he deposed the king; 90 Soon after that, deprived him of his life; • And in the neck of that, task'd the whole state; To make that worse, slltTer'd his kinsman March, Who is, if every owner were well placed, Indeed his king, to be engaged in Wales. There without ransom to lie forfeited; Disgraced me in my ~y vidories, • Sought to entrap me by Intelligence; Rated mine uncle from the council-board: In rage dismiss'd my father from the court; 1:00 Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong, And in conclusion drove us to seek out • This head of safety; and withal to pry Into his title, the which we find Too indired for long continuance. Bl1mt. Shall I return this answer to the king! Hot. Not so, Sir Walter: we'll withdraw awhile. Go to the king; and let there be impawn'd Some surety for a safe return again, And in the morning early shall my uncle rIO Bring him our purposes: and so farewell BlUitt. I would you would accept of grace and love. Hot. And may be so we shall. Bhlnt. Pray God you do. [Exeullt. ScENE
IV.
York.
Tlte ARCHBISHOP'S palace.
Enter lite ARCHBISHOP OF YORK and SIR
92 task'd. Taxed. 98 intelligence. Secret information.
103 head of safety. Armed state.
Laurence Olivier as Hotspur, New Theatre, London, 1945
MICHAEL.
Arck. Hie, good Sir Michael; bearthissealed brief With winged haste to the lord marshal; This to my cousin Scroop, and all the rest To whom they are direded. If you knew How much they do import, you would make haste. Sir M. My good lord, I guess their tenour. A rclt. Like enough you do. To-morrow, good Sir Michael, is a day Wherein the fortune of ten thousand men Must bide the touch; for, sir, at Shrewsbury, 10 As I am truly given to understand, The king with mighty and quick· raised power Meets with Lord Harry: and, I fear, Sit-Michael, What with the sickness of Northumberland, Whose power was in the first proportion. And what with Owen Glendower's absence thence, Who with them was a rated sinew too And comes not in, o'er-ruled by prophecies. I fear the power of Percy is too weak 1199
KING HENRY IV Part I Act V Scene I
19 exhaled meteDr. The word 'meteor' was applied to many celestial phenomena: they were all believed to be due to vapour drawn up by the sun.
29 chewet. Jackdaw. i.e. noisy Quibbler.
To wage an instant trial with the king. 20 Sir is-f. Why, my good lord, you need not fear: There is Douglas and Lord Mortimer. Arch. No, Mortimer is not there. Sir .!rl. But there is Mordake, Vernon, Lord Harry Percy, And there is my Lord of Worcester and a head Of gallant warriors, noble gentlemen. A rclt. And so there is: but yet the king hath drawn The special head of all the land together: The Prince of Wales, Lord John of L-mcaster, The noble Westmoreland and warlike Blunt; 30 And many moe corrivals and dear men Of es6matioll and command in arms. Sir .!rI. Doubt not, my lord, they shall be well opposed. A reh. I hope no less, yet needful 'tis to fear ; And, to prevent the worst, Sir Michael, speed: For if Lord Percy thrive not, ere the king Dismiss his power, he means to visit us, For he hath heard of our confederacy, And 'tis but wisdom to make strong against him: Therefore make haste. I must go write again To other friends; and so farewell, Sir Michael. [Exeuut. ACT V. ScENE
L
The
KING'S
camp 1lear Shrewsbury.
Ellter the KING,
PRINCE OF WALES, LORD JOHN OI no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now: shut the door, I pray you. Fal. Dost thou hear, hostess? Host. Pray ye, pacify yourself. Sir John: there comes no swaggerers here. Fal. Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient. ~ Host. Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne'er tell me: your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the debuty, t' other day; and, as he said to me, 'twas no long-er ago than 'Vednesday last, '1' good faith, nelghbo1lr Quickly,' says he; Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then; 'neighbour Quickly,' says he, 'receive those that are civil; for,' said he, • you are in an ill name:' now a' said so, I can tell whereupon; • for,' says he, 'you are an honest woman, and ,veIl thought on; therefore take heed what guests you receive: receive,' says he, 'no swaggering companions.' There comes none
37 jordan. Chamber-pot. 40 calm. Qualm.
41 sect. Sex.
53 ouches. Gems.
57 charged chambers. Small cannon. 64 wtifjTmities. i.e. infirmities. 69 venture of Bourdeaux. Wine merchant's cargo of Bordeaux wine (claret).
Doll Tearsheet (Vivienne Bennett), Falstaff (George Merritt) and Mistress Quickly (Buena Bent), Old Vic Theatre, London. 1935
74 Ancient. Ensign.
1237
KING HENRY IV Part II Act II Scene IV 108 Barbary hen. Guinea fowl. 121-122 discharge upon mine hostess. Toast the hostess (bawdy innuendo).
138 bung. Pickpocket. 139 chaps. Cheeks. alttle. Cut-throat. 141 basket-hilt stale juggler. i.e. swashbuckling
lID-
postor.
142 points. Laces for attaching armour to the shoulders.
161 'occupy'. Fornicate.
here: you would bless you to hear what he said: no, 1'11 no swaggerers. . Fal. He's no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, i' faith; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound: he'11 not swagger with a • Barbary hen, if her feathers tum back in any show of resistance. Call him up, drawer. [Exit First Drawer. Host. Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: but I do not love swaggering, by my troth; I am the worse, when one says swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you. Dol. So you do, hostess. Host. Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an 'twere an aspen leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.
Enter PISTOL, BARDOLPH, and Page. Pist. God save you, Sir John! II9 Fal. Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol,
Costume design for Doll Tearsheet by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upan-Avon, 1951
1238
• I charge you with a cup ofsack : do you discharge upon mine hostess. Pisl. I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets. F al. She is pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her. H osl. Come, 1'11 drink no proofs nor no bullets: 1'11 drink no more than will do me good, for no man's pleasure, 1. Pist. Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you. J 31 Dol. Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master. Pist. I know you, Mistress Dorothy. Dol. Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy • hung, away! by this wine, I '11 thrust my knife in • your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you • basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I • pray you, sir? God's light, with two points on your shoulder? much! Pist. God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff for this. Fal. No more, Pistol; I would not have you go offhere: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol. . H osl. No, good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain. ISO Dol. Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would truncheon YOll out, for taking their names upon you before you have eamed them. YOll a captain! you slave, for what? for tC;,lring a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house? He a capt...in! hang him, rogue! he lives uIJon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God's light, these villai.'ls will make the word as odions as • the word 'occupy;' which was an excellent !!t>nd word before it was ill sorted: therefore captains had need look to't. Bard. Pray thee, go down, good ancient. Fa!. Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll. Pist. Not I: I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her: I'll be revenged of her. Page. Pray thee, go down.
Act II Scene IV KING HENRY IV Part II
• • •
•
• • •
• •
•
• • • • •
•
•
Put. I'll see her damned first; to Pluto's damned lake, by this hand, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors ! Have we not Hiren here ? Host. Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; 'tis very late, i' faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your choler. Pi.st. These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack-horses And hollow pamper'd jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day, Compare with Ccesars, and with Cannibals, 180 And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys? Host. By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words. Bard. Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to a brawl anOll. Pist. Die men like dogs! give crowns like pins! Have we not Hiren here? x89 Host. 0' my word, captain, there's none such here. What the good-year! do you think I would deny her? For God's sake, be quiet. Pist. Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. Come, give's some sack. • Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.' F ear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire: Give me some sack: and, sweetheart, lie thou there. [Layi1tg dtntm. his sword. Come we to full points here; and are etceteras nothing? Fal. Pistol, I would be quiet. Pist. Sweet knight, I kiss thy neif: what! we have seen the seven stars. 20X Dol. For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot endure such a fustian rascal. Pirt. Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags? Fal. Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove· groat shilling: nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing, a' shall be nothing here . •Bard. Come, get you down stairs. Pist. What! shall we have incision! shall we imbrue'? [S,zatcltillg1lp Itis S'lIJord. 210 Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days! 'Vhy, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say! Host. Here's goodly stuff toward ! Fal. Give me my rapier, boy. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw. F al. G ct YOU down stairs. Drawi1tg, and driving Pistolout. Host. Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now. Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons. [Exeunt Putol attd Bardolph. Dol. I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, YOll whoreson little valiant villain, you! H osl. Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' made a shrewd thrust at your belly.
169-170 Pluto's damned lake. Pistol means the river Styx of the underworld. 171 Erebus. The darkness of Hades.
173 Jaitors. Rogues. Have we not Hum hue? A tlli from a play by GeoriC Peele. 177-179 Sholl . .. day. A burlesque of some famous lines in Marlowe's Tamburlaine Part II. 180 Cmmibals. Hannibals. 182 Ce,.berus. The three-headed dog which guarded the the underworld. welkin. Sky. 183
JOT toys. Over trifles.
193 Theft . .. Calipolis. Parody of a line in Peele's Battle of Alcaza,..
195 Si . . . conteftto. If fortune torments me, hope contents me.
198 full points. Full stops. 200 neif. Fist.
201 seven staTS. The Pleiades.
Z03 fustian. Bombastic. Fustian was a cheap cloth. 205 Galloway nags. i.e. we know a harlot when we see one. Galloway nags were Irish horses of an inferior breed.
20&-207 slwve-groat shilling. (Am pushed along a shuffile board. 210 incision. Bloodshed. imbrue. Shed blood.
213 Sisters Three . .. Atropos. The Fates, of which Atropos was one.
220 timts. Fits of temper.
r
•
Fal.
Re-e1tter BARDOLPH. Have you turned him out 0' doors7
1239
KING HENRY IV Part II Act II Scene IV 238 Nine Worthies. Hector, Alexander, Julius Caesar, Joshua. David, Judas Maccabaeus, Arthur, Charlemagne, Godfrey of Bouillon.
243 canvass. i.e. toss between canvas sheets.
250-251 Bartholomew boar-pig. Bartholomew Fair, held on 24 August, when pigs were roasted.
Bard. Yea., sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, sir, i' the shoulder. 231 Fal. A rascal! to brave me! Dol. Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou sweatest! come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops: ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee: thou art as valorous as HeCtor of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and • ten times better than the Nine \Vorthies: ah, villain! Fal. A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket. 241 Dol. Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an • thou dost, I'll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
Enter Music. Page. The music is come, sir. Fal. Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal bragging slave! the rogue fled from me like quicksilver. Dol. l' faith, and thou followedst him like a • church. Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when. wilt thou leave fighting 0' days and foining o· nights, and begin to patch up thine old body for heaven? Enter, bekilld,
• • Falstaff: 'Peace, good Doll . . .' Engraving from a painting by H. Fuseli (1741-1825)
•
255 death's-head. Skull and cross-bones.
258 pantleI'. Pantryman. •
262 Tewksbury. From where the best mustard came. 287-268 drinks . .. flap-Magon•. i.e. performs acts of bravado; flap-dragon was a game in which the players snatched raisins from flaming brandy and ate them. wild-mare. See-saw.
•
271 sign of the leg. Sign over a bootmaker's shop. 278
na~'e.
Hub.
•
282 his poll clawed like a parrot. Doll is rumpling his hair.
•
288 fiery Trigon. The three fiery signs of the zodiac Aries, Leo, Sagittarius. 289 lisping ... tables. i.e. making love to his master's old acquaintance (Mistress Quickly).
291 busses. Kisses.
• • •
1240
and POINS, disguised. Fal. Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's-head; do not bid me remember mine end. Dol. Sirrah, what humour's the prince of? Fat. A good shallow young fellow: a' would have made a good pantler, a' would ha' chipped bread well. Dol. They say Poins has a good wit. 260 Fal. He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there's no more conceit in him than is in a mallet. Dol. Why does the prince love him lOo, then? Fa I. Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a' plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off candles' ends for flapdragons, and rides the wild-mare with the boys, and jumps upon joined-stools, and swears with a good grace, and wears his boots very smooth, like unto the sign of the leg, and breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories; and such other gambol faculties a' has, that show a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will tum the scales between their avoirdupois. Prince. \Vould not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off? POillS. Let's beat him before his whore. 280 Prince. Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot. Poim. Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance! Fal. Kiss me, Doll. Prince. Saturn and Venus this year in conjunCtion! what says the almanac to that? Poins. And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master's old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper. 290 Fal. Thou dost give me flattering busses. Dol. By my troth, J kiss thee with a most constant heart. PRINCE HENRV
Act II Scene IV KING HENRY IV Part II Fal. I am old, I am old. Dol. I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all. • Fal. What stutrwilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money 0' Thursday: shalt have a cap tomorrow. A merry song, come: it grows late; we'll to bed. Thou 'It forget me when I am gone. Dol. By my troth, thou 'It set me a-weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return: well, hearken at the end. Fal. Some sack, Francis. Pr~nce'l Anon anon sir. [Comi.u".fiorward. POUts.
"
'.".,
Fal. Ha! a bastard son of the king's? And art not thou Poins his brother? Pri?zce. Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead! 310 Fal A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer. Prince. Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears. Host. 0, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London. N ow, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! J esu, are you come from Wales? Fal. Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this lia-ht flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome. 321 Dol. How, you fat fool! I scorn you. Poins. My lord, he wiII drive you out of your revenge and turn all to a merriment, if you take not the heat. • Prince. You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak. of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman ! Host. God's blessing of your good heart ! and so she is, by my troth. 330 Fal. Didst thou hear me' Prince. Yea, and you knew me:, as you did when you ran away by Gad's-hill: you knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose to try my patience. Fal. No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing. Przizce. I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you. Fal. No abuse, Hal, 0' mine honour; no abuse. Prince. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper and I know not what? Fal. No abuse, Hal. Poins. No abuse? Fal. No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal: none, .Ned, none: no, faith, boys, none. 351 Pri1zce. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us. Is she of the wicked? is thine hostess here of the wicked? or is thy boy of the wicked? or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked? Poins. Answer, thou dead elm, answer. • Fal. The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his face is Lucifer's privy• kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast malt-
'"
I'
I
kI
\\;{~!
11r;
°
\,
;'r I
Doll: 'I love thee better than 1 love e'er a scurvy young boy of them all.' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1146
297 kirtle. Short outer gown. 326 candle-mine. Store of tallow.
359 pricked. Chosen.
361-382 malt-worms. Topers,
1241
KING HENRY IV Part II Act II Scene IV 382 south. i.e. south wind. 413 peascod-time. Early summer (when peas are in blossom).
Falstaff takes his leave. Drawina by J.M. Wriiht (1777-1866)
worms. For the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the devil outbids him too. Prince. For the women? Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls. For the other, lowe her money; and whether she be damned for that, I know not. Host. No, I warrant you. 369 F al. No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt how1. Host. All victuallers do so: what's a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent? Prince. You, gentlewoman,. Dol. What says your grace? Fal. His grace says that which his flesh rebels [Knocking within. 380 against. Host. Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.
Enter PETO. Prince. Peto, how now! what news? Peto. The king your father is at Westminster; A nd there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north: and, as I came along, I met and overtook a dozen ca.ptains, Bare-headed, swe.ating, knockmg at the taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff. Prince. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to 390 blame, . So idly to profane the precious time, • When tempest of commotion, like the south Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night. [Exeunt Prince Henry, Poms, Peto, and Bardolph. F aI. N ow comes in the sweetest morsel of the night and we must hence and leave it unpicked. [Knocking within.] Mort' knocking at the door!
R e-e1lter BARDOLPH. How now! what's the matter? 400 Bard. You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you. Fal. [To the Page] Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how m\!n of merit are sought after: the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell, good wenches: if I benot sent away post, I will see you again ere I go. Dol. I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to burst.-well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself. Fal. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Falstaff and BardolPh. Host. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee • these twenty nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man,-well, fare thee well. Bard. [Witkin] Mistress Tearsheet! Host. What's the matter? Bard. [Witkin] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my mast~r. 419 Host. 0, run, Doll run; run, good Doll : come. [She comes blubbered.] Yea, will you come, Doll ? [Exeunt.
1242
Act III Scene I KING HENRY IV Part II
ACT III. I.
Westminster. The palace. E1tter tlte KING ilt his nightgown, witlta Page. King. Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick; But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters, And well consider of them: make good speed. [Exit Page. How many thousand of my poorest subjeCts Are at this hour asleep! 0 sleep, 0 gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That -thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? • Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee 10 Andhush'd with buzzingnight-.fliesto thy slumber, Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody? o thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch • A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge 20 And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes? Canst thou, 0 partial sleep, give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude, And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, • Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down! 30 Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Enter WARWICK ami SURREY. War. Many good morrows to your majesty! Ki1tg. Is it good morrow, lords? War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past. Ki1tg. Why, then, good morrow to you all, my lords. Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you? War. We have. my liege. K mg. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom How foul it is; what rank diseases grow, And with what danger, near the heart of it. 40 War. It is but as a body yet distemper'd ; Which to his former strength may be restored With good advice and little medicine: My Lord Northumberland will soon be cooI'd. King. 0 God! that one might read the book of fate, And see the revolution of the times • Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea! and, other times, to see The beachy girdle of the ocean 50 Too wide ~or Neptune's hips; how chances mock, And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors! 0, if this were seen, The happiest youth, viewing his progress through, What perils past, what crosses to ensue, Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. SCENE
William Charles Macready, the English Victorian actor, as King Henry IV, Covent Garden Theatre, London, 1147
9 cribs.
Hov~Is.
17 watch-case. Sentry-box. 30 law. Lowly people.
47 continent. Dry land.
1243
KING HENRY IV Part II Act III Scene II 63 tmder my foot. At my disposal.
&8 rated. Berated.
'07
Ollt
of hand. Over with.
Costume design for Henry IV by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1951
3 rood. Cross.
'Tis not ten years gone Since Richard.and Northumberland, great friends, Did feast together, and in two years after Were they at wars: it is but eight years since 60 This Percy was the man nearest my soul, Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs • And laid his love and life under my foot, Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard Gave him defiance. But which of you was byYou, cousin Nevil, as I may remember[ To Warwick. When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears, • Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy? , Northumberland, thou ladder by the which 70 My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne;' Theugh then, God knows, I had no such intent, But that necessity so bow'd the state That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss: , The time shall come,' thus did he follow it, 'The time will come, thatfoul sin, gathering head, Shall break into corruption:' so went on, Foretelling this same time's condition And the division of our amity. War. There is a history in all men's lives, 80 Figuring the nature of the times deceased; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of thin~ As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnin~ lie in treasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of time; And by the necessary form of this King Richard might create a perfect guess That great Northumberland, then false to him, Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness ; Which should not find a ground to root upon, 9X Unless on you. Ki,lg-. Are these things then necessities? Then let us meet them like necessities: And that same word even now cries out on us: They say the bishop and Northumberland Are fifty thousand strong. War. I t cannot be, my lord; Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, The numbers of the fear'd Please it your grace To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord, The powers that you already have sent forth roo Shall bring this prize in very easily. To comfort you the more, I have received A certain instance that Glendower is dead. Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill, And these unseason'd hours perforce must add Unto your sickness. Ki,lg. I will take your counsel: • And were these inward wars once out of hand, We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land. [Exet#tt. ScENE
II.
Gloucesterskire. Before JUSTICE SHALLOw'S house.
Enter SHALLOW altd SILENCE, meeting;
MOULDY, SHADOW, WART, FEEBLE, BULLCALF, a
Servant or two with tkem. S hal. Come on, come on, come on, sir; give me your hand, sir, give me your hand, sir: an • early stirrer, by the rood! And how doth my good cousin Silence Y Silo Good morrow, good cousin Shallow. 1244
Act III Scene II KING HENRY IV Part II
•
•
• • •
• •
Skal. And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and your fairest daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen? Silo Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow! 9 Skal. By ye.a and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin 'William is become a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not? Silo Indeed, sir, to my cost. S kal. A' must, then, to the inns 0' court shortly. I was once of Clement's Inn, where I think they wiII talk of mad Shallow yet. Silo You were called 'Iwity Shallow' then, cousin. Skal. By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and 'Vill Squele, a Cotswold man; you had not four such swinge-bucklers in all the inns 0' court again: and I may say to you, we knew where the bona-robas were and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, a boy, and page to 'thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. Silo This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers? 31 Skal. The same Sir 10hn, the very same. I see him break. Skogan's head at the court-gate, when a' was a crack not thus high: and the very same day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind Gray's Inn. J esu, J esu, the Blad days that I have spent! and to see how many of old acquaintance are dead! Si. We shall all follow, cousin. 39 Shal. Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure: death, as the Psalmist saith. is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at Stamford fair? Sit. By my troth, I was not there. Skal. Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet? Silo Dead, sir. S kal. J esu, 1 esu, dead! a' dI:ew a good bow; and dead! a' shot a fine shoot: 10hn a Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head. Dead! a' would have clapped i' the clout at twelve score; and carried you a forehand 'shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it would have done a man's heart good to see. How a score of ewes now? Silo Thereafter as they be: a score of good ewes may be worth ten pounds. Skat. And is old Double dead? Silo Here come two of Sir lohn Falstaff's men, as I think. 60
mr
•
E'lter BARDOLPH and one witllkim.
~-
- ' .. ;.
Justice Shallow talks with Silence. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works oj Shakspere, I!46
9 ousel. Blackbird. 15 Clement's 11m. One of the Inns of Chancery. 24 S1JJinge-bucklers. Swash-bucklers.
26 bona-robas. Whores. 27 commandment. For the asking.
34 crack. Lively boy.
36 Gray's 11m. One of the Inns of Court. 51-53 clapped . .. score. Hit the target at 240 yards. carried . .. half. Shot a heavy arrow point blank which carried 280 or 290 yards. 70 backsword. Fencing stock with a basket hilt.
Bard. Good morrow, honest gentlemen: I beseech you, which is 1 ustice Shallow? Skal. I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this county, and one of the king's justices of the peace: what is your good pleasure with me? Bard. My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader. SkaZ. He greets me well, sir. I knew him a • good backsword man. How doth the good knight? may I ask how my lady his wife doth? 71
1245
KING HENRY IV Part II Act III Scene II 97 in commiuion. i.e. as a Justice of the Peace.
Costume design for Shadow by Tanya :vIoisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1951
1246
Bard. Sir, pardon; a soldier is better accommodated than with a wife. Skal. It is well said, in faith, sir; and it is well said indeed too. Better accommodated! it is geod; yea, indeed, is it: good phrases are surely, and ever were, very commendable. Accommodated! it comes of 'accommodo:' very good; a good phrase. 79 Bard. Pardon me, sir; I have heard the word. Phrase call you it? by this good day, I know not the phrase; but I will maintain the word with my sword to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command, by heaven. Accommodated; that is, when a man is, as they say, accommodated; or when a man is, being, whereby a' may be thought to be accommodated; which is an excellent thing. Skal. It is very just. 59 Euter FALSTAFF. Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand, give me your worship's good hqnd: by my troth, you like well and bear your years very well: welcome, good Sir John• .Fal. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow: Master Surecard, as I think? Skal. No, Sir John; it is my cousin Silence, • in commission with me. Fal. Good Master Silence, tt well befits you should be of the peace. Silo Your good worship is welcome. IOO Fal. Fie! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you provided me here half a dozen sufficient men? Skal. Marry, have we, sir. ,Vill you sit? Fal. Let me see them, I beseech you. Shal. Where's the roll? where's the roll? where's the roll? Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so, so, so, so: yea, marry, sir: Ralph Mouldy! Let them appear as I call; let them do so, let them do so. Let me see; where is Mouldy? 11:1 J"ffoul. Here, an't please you. S/lill. What think you, Sir John? a goodlimbed fellow; young, strong, and of good friends . .Fal. Is thy name Mouldy? it-Ioltl Yea, an't please you. Fal. 'Tis the more time thou wert used. Skal. Ha, ha, ha! most excellent, i' faith! things that are mouldy lack use: very singular good! in faith, well said, Sir John, very well said. Pal. Prick him. 121 11,Ioul. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have let me alone: myoid dame will be undone now for one to do her husbandry and her drudgery: you need not to have pricked me; there are other men fitter to go out than I. Fal. Go to: peace, Mouldy; you shall go. Mouldy, it is time you were spent. .l1-lo:el. Spent! 129 Sltal. Peace, fellow, pe.'\ce; stand aside: know you where you are? For the other, Sir John: let me see: Simon Shadow! Fal. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under: he's like to be a cold soldier. Skal. Where's Shadow! Shad. Here, sir. Fal. Shadow, whose son art thou? Shad. My mother's son, sir.
Act III Scene II KING HENRY IV PART II Fal. Thy mother's son! like enough, and thy father's shadow: so the son of the female is the shadow of the male: it is often so, indeed; but much of the father's substance! Shal. Do you like him, Sir John '! Fal. Shadow will serve for summer; prick • him, for we have a number of shadows to fill up the muster-book. Shal. Thomas Wart 1 Fal. Where's he? Wart. Here, sir. FISI. Is thy name WartY :150 Wart. Yea, sir. Fal. Thou art a very ragged wart. Shal. Shall I prick him down, Sir John? Ii'al. It were superfluous; for his apparel is built upon his back and the whole frame stands upon pins: prick him no more. Skal. Ha, ha, ha! you can do it, sir; you can do it: I commend you well. Francis Feeble! Fee. Here, sir. Fal. What trade art thou, Feeble? :160 Fee. A woman's tailor, sir. Skid. Shall I prick him, sir? Fal. You may: but if he had been a man's tailor, he'ld ha' pricked you. Wilt thou.make as many holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat? Fee. I will do my good will, sir: you can have no more. Fal. Well said, good woman's tailor! well said, courageous Feeble! thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most magnanimous mouse. Prick the woman's tailor: well, Master Shallow; deep, Master Shallow. Fee. I would \Vart might have gone, sir. Fal. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst mend him and make him fit to go. I cannot put him to a private soldier that is the • leader of so many thousands: let that suffice, most forcible Feeble. Fee. It shall suffice, sir. 180 Fal. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. Who is next? Shal. Peter Bullcalf 0' the green! Fal. Yea, marry, let's see Bullcalf. BlIll. Here, sir. Fal. 'Fore God, a likely fellow 1 Come, prick me Bullcalf till he roar again. Bull. Lord! good my lord captain,Fal. What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked? 190 Btili. Lord, sir! I am a diseased man. Fal. What disease hast thou? Bttll. A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught with ringing in the kings affairs upon his coronation-day, sir. Fal. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown; we will have away thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friends shall ring for thee. Is here all? 199 Sltal. Here is two more called than your number; you must have but four here, sir: and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner. Fal. Come, I will go drink with you, but I cannot tarry dinner. I am glad to see you, by my troth, Master Shallow. Sltal. 0, Sir John, do you remember since we • lay all night in the windmill in Saint George' 5 fiel d Y
145 shadows. Fictitious names on the muster rolls.
Feeble: 'A woman's tailor, sir.' Engraving from a 19th century painting 'The lady's tailor' by H.S. Marks (182!, BARDOLPH, and Boy. Host. Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. • Pist. No; for my manly heart doth yearn. Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaffhe is dead, And we must yearn therefore. Bard. 'Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell !
Costume design for Sir Thomas Grey of Northumberland by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, 19.51 169 golden earnest. Payment in gold. 181 dear. Dire.
188 rub. Obstacle. 3 yearn. Grieve.
1299
KING HENRY V Act II Scene IV
Sir John Falstaff. Engraving from a 19th century painting (detail) 12 christom. Newly christened. Z9 out of sack. Against sherry.
51 'Pitch and Pay'. No credit; cash only. 55 Caveto. Beware.
Host. Nay, sure', he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's bosom, if ever man went to Arthur!s bosom. A' made a finer end and went away an • it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning 0' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a' babbled oi green fields. 'How now, Sir John!' quoth I: , what, man! be 0' good cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God I' three or four times. N ow I, to comfort him, bid him a' should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone. • Nym. They say he cried out of sack. Host. Ay, that a' did. 30 Bard. And of women. Host. Nay, that a' did not. Boy. Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils incarnate. Host. A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he never liked. Boy. A' said once, the devil would have him about women. Host. A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. 41 Boy. Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire? Bartl. Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that's all the riches I got in his service. Nym. Shall we shog? the king will be gone from Southampton. Pist. Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. 50 Look to my chattels and my movables: • Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' Trust none; For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafercakes, And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: • Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. Go, clear thy crystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys. To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! Boy. And that's but unwholesome food, they say. 60 Pist. Touch her soft mouth, and march. Bard. Farewell, hostess. [Kissing' ker. Nym. I cannot kiss, that is the humoUl of it ; but, adieu. Pt5t. Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. Host. Farewell; adieu. [Exemet. SCENE
Pistol (Jeffrey Dench), Boy (Richard Derrington) and the Hostess (Valerie Lush). Royal Shakespeare Co, 1977
1300
IV.
Frmtce.
Tke KING'sj.alace.
Flourisk. E,zter tke FRENCH KING, tke DAUPHIN, tlte DUKES OF BERRI and BRETAGNE, tlte CONSTABLE, mId otkers. Fr. King. Thus comes the English with full power upon us;
Act II Scene IV KING HENRY V And more than carefully it us concerns To answer royally in our defences. Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, • To line and new repair our towns of war With men of courage and with means defendant; For England his approaches makes as fierce • As waters to the sucking of a gulf. 10 It fits us then to be as provident As fear may teach us out of late examples • Left by the fatal and neglec1ed English Upon our fields. Dau. My most redoubted father, It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, Though war nor no known quarrel were in ques-
7 line. Strengthen. 10 gulf. Whirlpool. 13 neglected. Despised.
25 Whitsun morris-dance. Country dances were performed at Whitsuntide.
tion,
But that defences, muster!'., preparations, Should be maintain'd, assembled and coUeded, As were a war in expeCtation. 20 Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth To view the sick and feeble parts of France: And let us do it with no show of fear; No, with no more than if we heard that England • Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, Her sceptre so fantastically borne By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, That fear attends her not. COIl. 0 peace, Prince Dauphin! You are too much mistaken in this king: 30 Question your grace the late ambassadors, With what great state he heard their embassy, How well supplied with noble counsellors, How modest in exception, and withal How terrible in constant resolution, And you shall find his vanities forespent • Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly; As gardeners do with ordure hide th05e roots That shall first spring and be most delicate. 40 Dau. Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; But though we think it so, it is no matter: In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh The enemy more mighty than he seems: So the proportions of defence are fiU'd; Which of a weak and niggardly projeCtion Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting A little cloth. Fr. Killg. Think we King Harry strong; And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. • The kindred of him bath been flesh'd upon us; 50 And he is bred out of that bloody strain That haunted us in our familiar paths: Witness our too much memorable shame When Cressy battle fatally was struck, And all our princes captived by the hand Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, Mangle the work of nature and deface 60 The patterns that by God and by French fathers Had twenty years been made. This is a stem
A morris dance. Engraving by Israel von Mecheln from
J .0. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, r8S3-bs 37 Roman Brutus. Lucius Junius Brutus, who feigned madness to prevent Tarquin, last king of Rome, of suspecting him of conspiracy. 50 flesh'd. Initiated to blood-shed.
1301
KING HENRY V Act II Scene IV 70 spend their mouths. Cry.
Of that viCtorious stock; and let us fear The native mightiness and fate of him.
Enter a Messenger. Mess. Ambassadors from Harry King of England Do crave admittance to your majesty. Fr. King. We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. [Exe1mt Messenger a1td certain Lords. You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. DatI. Tum head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs • Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten 70 Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, Take up the English short, and let them know Of what a monarchy you are the head: Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-negleCting.
Costume design for the Dauphin by John Bury with Ann Curtis, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1964
85 sinister. Illegitimate. 91 evenly. Truly.
1302
Re-enter Lords, witl, EXETER a1td trai1t. Fr. Killg. From our brother England? Exe. From him; and thus he greets your majesty. He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, That you divest yourself, ~nd lay apart The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, By law of nature and of nations, 'long 80 To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown And all wide-stretched honours that pertain By custom and the ordinance of times Unto the crown of France. That you may know • 'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, N or from the dust of old oblivion raked, He sends you this most memorable line, In every branch truly demonstrative; Willing you overlook this pedigree: go • And when you find him evenly derived From his most famed of famous ancestors, Edward the Third. he bids you then resign Your crown and kingdom, indireCtly held From him the native and true chalTenger. Fr. Kilag. Or else what follows? Exe. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, IOO That, if requiring fail, he will compel; And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy On the poor souls for whom this hungry war Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans, For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. This is his claim, his threatening and my message; IIO Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, To whom expressly I bring greeting too. Fr. KUlg. For us, we will consider of this further: To-morrow shall you bear our full intent Back to our brother England. Dau. For the Dauphin, I stand here (or him: what to him from England?
Act III Prologue KING HENRY V
Exe.
Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, And any thing that may not misbecome The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. Thus says my king; an if your father's highness Do not, in grant of all demands at large, :12:1 Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, • That caves and womby vaultages of France Shall chide your trespass and return your mock • In second accent of his ordnance. Dau. Say, if my father render fair return, It is against my will; for I desire Nothing but odds with England: to that end, As matching to his youth and vanity, 130 I did present him with the Paris balls. Exe. He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: And, be assured, you'11 find a difference, As we his subjeCts have in wonder found, Between the promise of his greener days And these he masters now: now he weighs time Even to the utmost ~rain: that you shall read In your own losses, If he stay in France. Fr. King. To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. :140 Exe. Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king Come here himself to question our delay; For he is footed in this land alreadr. Fr. King. You shall be soon dlspatch'd with fair conditions: A night is but small breath and little pause To answer matters of this consequence.
[Flourisk.
, 24 'Womby vaultages. Hollow caverns.
126 second. . . ordnance. Echoing his artillery.
Henry V, (F.R. Benson) departs for France, Stratfordupon-Avon, 1901.
, imogmed wing. The "' men, they have no wings to fly from God: war 15 his beadle, war is his vengeance; so that here men are punished for before-breach of the king's laws in now the kings quarrel: where they feared the death, they have borne bfe away: and where they would be safe, they perish.: then ifthey die unprovided, no more is the king guilty of their damnation than he was before guilty of those impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is the kings; but every subjed's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience: and dying so, death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost wherein such preparation was gained: and in him that escapes, It were not sin to think that, making God so free an offer, He let him outlive that day to see His greatness and to teach others how they should prepare. Will. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill upon his own head, the king is not to an. swerit. 199 Bates. I do not desire he should answer for me: and yet I determine to fight lustily lor him. K. Hen. I myself heard the king say he would not be ransomed. Will. Ay, he said ~ to make us fight cheerfully: but when our throats are cut, ne may be ransomed, and we ne' et the wiser. K. Hen. It I live to see it, I wfll never trust his word after. Will. You pay him then. That's a perilous shot out of an elder-gun, that a poor and a private displeasure can do against a monarch! you may as well go about to tum the sun to ice with fanning in his face with a peacock's feather. You'll never trust his word after! come, 'tis a foolish saying. K. Hen. Your reprool is something too round: I should be angry with you, if the time were convenient. Will. Let it be a quarrel between us, if you live. 220 K. H m. I embrace it. Will. How shall I know thee again r K. Hen. Give me any gage of thine, and I will wear it in my bonnet: then, if ever thou darest acknowledge it, I will make it my quarrel. 1Vtll. Here's my glove: give me another of· thine. K. Hm. There. Will. This will I also wear in my cap: if ever thou come to me and say, alter to-morrow, 'This is my glove,' by this hand, I will take thee a box on the ear. K. Hm. !fever I live to see it, I wUl challenge it. Will. Thou darest as well be hanged. K. H en. Well, I will do it, though I take thee in the king's company. Will. Keep thy word: fare thee well. Bales. Be lriends, you English fools, be Crlend&: we have French quarrels enow, if you could teU how to reckon. 241 K. Hen. Indeed, the French may lay twenty French crowns to one, they wlll beat us; for they bear them on their shoulders: but it is no
Act IV Scene I KING HENRY V • English treason to cut French crowns, and to• morrow the king himself will be a clipper. [Exeunt Soldiers. • Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls, Our debts, our careful wives, Our children and our sins lay on the king I We must bear all. hard condition, 250 Twin-born with greatness, subjeCt to the breath Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel But his own wringing! What infinite heart's-ease Must kings neglect, that private men enjoy! And what have kings, that privates have not too, Save ceremony, save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? What are thy rents? what are thy comings in? o ceremony, show me but thy worth! 261 • What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd Than they in fearing. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery? 0, be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure ! Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out 270 • With titles blown from adulation Y Will it give place to flexure and low bending? Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee, Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream, That play'st so subtly with a king's repose ; I am a kmg that find thee, and I know • 'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball, The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, The intertissued robe of gold and pearl, • The farced title running 'fore the king, 280 The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp That beats upon the high shore of this world, No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony. Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind Gets him to rest. cramm'd with distressful bread; Never sees horrid night, tbe child of hell, But, like a lackey, from the rise to set • Sweats in the eye of Pha:bus and all night 290 • Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn, • Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse, And follows so the ever-running year, With profitable labour, to his grave: And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, Had the fore-band and vantage of a king. The slave, a member of the country's peace, • Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace, 301 Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
°
R e-e1lter ERPINGHAM.
245 treason. It was treason to clip coins. Z46 clipper. A pun on clip, to 'cut off' and to 'trim the edges of coins'.
247-253 Upon the King . .. wringing. See introduction.
H2 thy ... adoration. The nature of the adoration paid to you.
271 from adulation. From flatterers.
277 balm. The oil used to anoint the king coronation ceremony.
ID
the
F.R. Benson as Henry V, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1900
280 farced. Stuffed. Z90 Phoebus. In classical myths, the god of the sun. 291 Elysium. The habitation of the virtuous after death. 29Z Hyperion. Father of the sun-god.
Z99
'lOOts,
Knows.
Erj. My lord, your DobIes, jealous of your absence, Seek through your camp to find you. K. Hen. Good old knight, CoIled them all together at my tent: I'll, be before thee. Erj.. I shall do't, my lord. [Exit.
1321
KING HENRY V Act IV Scene II 312 Richard. Henry IV was responsible for the death of Richard II.
... ", -
"
~
'.,
-"
K. Hen. 0 God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts; Possess them not with fear; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them. Not to-day, 0 Lord, 0, not to-day, think not upon the fault 310 My father made in compassing the crown! • I Richard's body have interred new; And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears Than from it issued forced drops of blood : Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay, Who twice a-day their wither'd hands hold up Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built Two chan tries, where the sad and solemn priests Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do ; Though all that I can do is nothing worth, 320 Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon. Re-e1tter GLOUCESTER. Glou. My liege! K. Hen. MybrotherGloucester'svoice? Ay; I know thy en'and, I will go. with thee: The day, my friends and all things stay for me. [EZCllllt.
Funeral of Richard II. Engraving from an illumination in Froiasart's Chronicles. I sth century
Z Montez a cheval.' ... loquats! To horse! My horse, lackey! 4 Viol les eaux et
ScENE
to terre. Away (over) water and earth.
Enter the
5 Rien puis? ['air et le feu. Orleans jokingly asks if the Dauphin's horse will not soar above the other two elements, air and fire.
• 6 Ciel. To the heavens themselves.
• •
•
II.
The French ca1np.
DAUPHIN, ORLEANS, RAMBURES,
alld others. Orl. The sun doth gild our armour; UP. my lords! Dau. Montez a. cheva:lI My horse! varlet! laquais! ha! Orl 0 brave spirit! Dau. Via! les eaux et la terre. Orl. Rien puis? I'air et Ie feu. Dau. Ciel, cousin Orleans. Enter CONSTABLE. Now, my lOi'd constable! COIl. Hark, how our steeds for present service neigh! Dau. Mount them, and make incision in their hides, That their hot blood may spin in En~lish eyes, 10 And dout them with superfluous courage, ha ! Ram. What, will you have them weep our horses' blood? How shall we, then, behold their natural tears! E,tter Messenger. Mess. The English are embattled, you French peers. Con. To horse, you g-.Jlant princes! straight to horse! Do but behold yon poer and starved band. And your fair show shall suck away their souls. Leaving them but the shales and husks of men. There is not work enough for all our hands: Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins 20 To give each naked curtle-axe a stain, That our French gaHants shall to-day draw out, And sneathe for lack of sport: let us but blow on them. The vapour of our valour will o'ertum them. 'Tis positive 'gainst all exceptions, lords,
1322
Act IV Scene III KING HENRY V
• •
• •
That our superfluous lackeys and. our peasants, Who in unnecessary aCtion swarm About our squares of battle, were enow To purge this field of such a hilding foe, Though we upon this mountain's basis by ]0 Took stand for idle speculation: But that our honours must not. \Vhat's to say? A very little little let us do, And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound The tucket sonance and the note to mount; For our approach shall so much dare the field That England shall couch down in fear and yield.
Enter GRANDPRE.
• • •
• •
•
Grand. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France? Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones, Ill-favouredly become the morning field: 40 Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose, And our air shakes them passing scornfully: Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps: The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks, With torch-staves in their hand; and their poor jades Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips, The gum down-roping from their pale-dead eyes, And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit Lies foul with chew'd grass, still and moti0nless ; And their executors, the knavish crows, 51 Fly o'er them, all impatient for their hour. Description cannot suit itself in words To demonstrate the life of such a battle In life so lifeless as it shows itself. COft. They have said their prayers, and they stay for death. Dat~. Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits And give their fasting horses provender, And after fight with them? Con. I stay but for my guidon: to the field! 6I I will the banner from a trumpet take, And use it for my haste. Come, come, away! The sun is high, and we outwear the day. [Exeu1tt. SCENE
III.
29 hilding. Menial. 31 speculation. Looking on. 35 tucket sonance. Trumpet sound.
36 dare. Challenge.
39 desperate of. Desperate to save. 41 curtains. Banners, flags.
44 beaver. Visor.
41 Lob. Hang down. 49 gimmal. Jointed. 60 guidon. Standard.
The English camp.
Ettter
GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, ERPINGHAM, with all his host: SALISBURV and WESTMORELAND.
Glou. Where is the king? Bed. The king himself is rode tc view their battle. West. Of fighting men they have full three score thousand. E.xe. There's five to one; besides, they all are fresh. Sal. God's arm strike with us! 'tis a fearful odds. God be wi' you, princes all; 1'11 to my charge: If we no more meet till we meet in heaven, Then, joyfully, my noble Lord of Bedford, My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter, And my kind kinsman, warnors all, adieu! 10
Montacute, Earl of Salisbury. Efliraving from Old England, I854
l323
KING HENRY V Act IV Scene III
Bed. Farewell, good Salisbury; and good luck go with thee! Exe. Farewell, kind lord; fight valiantly today: And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it, For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour. [Exit Salisbury. Bed. He is as full of valour as of kindness; Princely in both.
Enter tke
°
Earl of Westmoreland. Engraving from Old England, 1854
40-46 This day . .. Crispian. See introduction. 40 feast of Crispian. October 25th. Saints Crispin and Crispinian are the patron saints of shoemakers.
62 vile. Of low status. 63 gentle. Improve, raise.
1324
KING.
West. that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day! K. Hm. \Vhat's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin: If we are mark'd to die, we are enow 20 To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man mote. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, N or care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honour, 29 I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England: God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour As one man more, me thinks, would share from me For the best hope I have. 0, do not wish one more! Rather proclaim it, ,"restmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse : We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. • This day is call'd the feast of Crispian: 49 He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, 'Vill stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say' These wounds I had on Crispin's day.' Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll re~ember with advantages 50 What feats he did that day: then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words, Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter, \Varwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; 60 For he to-day that sheds his blood with me • Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, • This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with WI uoon Saint Crisn;n'!'I day.
Act IV Scene III KING HENRY V
Re-mur
SALISBURY.
Sal. My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed: • The French are bravely in their battles set, And will with all expedience charge on us. 70 K. Hen. All things are ready, if our minds be so. West. Perish the man whose mind is backward now! K. Hm. Thou dost not wish more help from Englan~
CQi..!
West. God's willI my I alone,
li~ge,
89 b7avely. Finely. 80 compotmd. Come to terms.
would you and
Without more help, could fight this royal battle! K. H~,t. Why, now thou hast ullwish'd five thousand men; Which likes me better than to wish us one. You know your places: God be with you all !
Tuckel. E ttler
MONTJOY.
Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry, If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound, 80 Before thy most assured overthrow: For certainty thou art so near the gulf, Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy, The constable desires thee thou wilt mind Thy followers of repentance; that their souls May make a peaceful and a sweet retire From off these fields, where, wretches, their poor bodies Must lie and fester. j(. Hett. Who hath sent thee now? Mortt. The Constable of France. K. Heft. I pr.ay thee, bear my former answer back: cp Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones. Good God! why should they mock poor fellows thus? The man that once did sell the lion's skin While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him. A many of our bodies shall no doubt Find native graves; upon the which, I trust, Shall witness live in brass of this day's work: And those that leave their valiant bones in France, Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills, They shall be famed; for there the sun shall gl'eet them, roo And draw their honours reeking up to heaven; Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime, The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France. Mark then abounding valour in our English, That being dead, like to the bullet's grazing, Break out into a second course of mischief, Killing in relapse of mortality. Let me speak proudly: tell the constable Weare but warriors for the working-day; Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirch'd lIO With rainy marching in the painful field; There's not a piece of feather in our hostGood argument, I hope, we will not flyAnd time hath worn us into slovenry: But, by the mass, our hearts are in the trim; And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night They'll be in fresher robes, or they will pluck MQltI.
•
•
• •
Costume design for the Earl of Salisbury by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1951
91 achieve. Overcome.
105 grazing. Glancing off. 107 7elapfe of m07tality. A deadly rebound.
1325
KING HENRY V Act IV Scene IV 130 vaward. Vanguard.
The gay new coats o'er the French soldiers' heads And turn them out of ser:vice. If they do this,Ac;. if God please, they shall,-my ransom then Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour; 12I Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald: They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints; Which if they have as I will leave 'em them, Shall yield them little, tell the constable. Mont. I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well: Thou never shalt hear herald any more. [E:rit. K. H t!1l. I fear thou 'It once more come again for ransom.
2-3 Je pense . .. qualite. I think you are a gentleman of good standing. 4 Qualtitie . . . me. Pistol does not understand, and replies with the mangled refrain of a popular song. 6
°
Seigneur Dieu. 0 Lord God.
Enter YORK. York. My IQrd, most humbly on my knee I beg • The leading of the vaward. 130 K. He". Take it, brave York. Now, soldierlO, march away: And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day! [EXeullt. SCENE
Alarum.
• .
• • • Pistol: 'Perpend my words. Loutherbourg (1740-1812)
' Drawing by P.]. de
•
• 9 fox. Sword. 12-13 O,pTene% ... de moil 0, have mercy! Take pity on me.
•
14 Moy. Pistol thinks this is the name of a coin.
17-18 Est-il pomole . . . ton bTas. Is it possible to escape the strength of your arm? Z6 Ecoutez . .. appele? Listen, what's your name?
29 fork. Beat.
•
30 feTTet. Worry.
• 35 Que dit-il, monsieur? What does he say?
•
•
1326
IV.
Thefold ofbattle.
Excursio1tS. Enler PISTOL, French Soldier, and Boy. Pist. Yield, cur! Fr. Sfll. Je pense que vous etes gentilhomme de bonne gualite. Pist. {..?ualtitie calmie custure me! Art thou a gentleman? what is thy name? discuss. Fr. $01. 0 Seigneur Dieu ! Pist. 0, Signieur Dew should be a gentleman: Perpend my words, 0 Signieur Dew, and mark; 0 Signieur Dew, thou diest on point of fox, Except, 0 signieur, thou do give to me 10 Egregious ransom. Fr. Sol. 0, prenez misericorde! ayez pitie de moil Pist. Moy shall not serve; I will have forty moys; Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat III drops of crimson blood. Fr. Sol. Est-il impossible d'echapper la force de ton bras? Pist. Brass, cur! Thou damned and luxurious mountain goat, 20 Offer'st me brass? Fr. Sol. 0 pardonnez moi ! Pist. Say'st thou me so? is that a tOIl of moys? Come hither, boy: ask me this slave in French What is his name. Boy. Ecoutez: comment i!tes-vous appele? Fr. Sol. Monsieur Ie Fer. Boy. He says his name is Master Fer. Pist. Master Fer! I'll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him: discuss the same in French unto him. 31 Boy. I do not know the French for fer, and ferret, and firk. Pist. Bid him prepare; for I will cut his throat. Fr. Sol. Que dit-iI, monsieur?
Act IV Scene V KING HENRY V •
• •
•
•
Bo)'. 11 me commande de VOllS dire que VOllS faites vous pret; car ce soldat ici est dispose tout a. cette heure de couper votre gorge. Pist. Owy, cuppele gorge, permafoy, Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns; 40 Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword. Fr. Sol. 0, je vous supplie, pour l'amour de Dieu. me pardonner! Je suis gentilhomme de bonne maison: gardez rna vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents ecus. Pist. What are his words? Boy. He prays you to save his life: he is a .gentleman of a good house; and for his ranSOIn ne will give you twO hundred crowns. Pist. Tell him my fury shall abate, and I 50 The crowns will take. Fr. Sol. Petit monsieur, que dit-il? Boy. Encore qu'il est cuntre son jurement de pa.rdonner aucun prisonnier, neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous l'avez prom is, il est content de vous donner la liberte, Ie franchisement. Fr. Sol. Sur mes gcnoux je vous donne mille remercimens; ct je m' estime heureux que je suis tombe entre les mains d'un chevalier, je pense, lexlus brave, vaillant, et tres distingue seigneur d' ngleterre. 61 Pist. Expound unto me, boy. Boy, He gives you, upon his knees, a. thousand thanks; and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy signieur of England. Pist. As I suck blood, I will some mercy show. Follow me ! 69 Boy. Suivez-vous Ie grand capitaine. [Exeunt Pistol, and Frmch. Soldier.] I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart: but the saying is (rue, • The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.' Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring devil i' the old play, that e. very one may pare his nails with a wooden dagger: and they are both hanged; and so would this be, if he durst steal any thing adventurously. I must stay with the lackeys, with the luggage of our camp: the French might have a good prey of us, if he knew of it; for there is none to guard it but boys. [Exit. SCENE
Enter •
V.
Another fart of the field.
CONSTABLE, ORLEA!\S·, BOURBON, DAUPHIN, and RAMBURES.
Con. 0 diable ! Orl. 0 seigneur! Ie jour est perdu, tout est
perdu! Mort de rna vie! aU is confounded, all! Reproach and everlasting shame • Sits mocking in our plumes. 0 mechante fortune! Do not run away. [A short ala1"YlJl. Con. Why, all our ranks are broke. • Dau. 0 perdurable shame! let's stab ourselves. Be these the wretches tha t we play'd at dice for? Orl. Is this the king we sent to for his ransom? Bour. Shame and eternal shame, nothing but shame! 10 Let us die in honour: once more back again: Dalt.
36-38 Il me commande . .. votre gorge. He commands me to tell you to prepare yourself, for this soldier has a mind at once to cut your throat.
Pistol: 'What are his words?' Engraving from Bell's WOt'ks ... 1773
52 Petit . .. dit-il? Little sir, what does he s.ay? 53-56 Encore qu'il ... franchisement. Again, although it is against his oath to pardon any prisoner, nevertheless for the crowns you have promised, he is willing to give you liberty, freedom.
70 Suivez-'!Jous le grand capitaine. Follow the are-at captain. 76 old play. The :.\Iorality plays in which the Devil was often mocked by the character Vice, who would sometimes belabour him with a wooden sword. 2 le jour . . . perdu. The day is lost, all is lost. 5 0 mechante fortune. 0 spiteful fortune. 7 perdurable. Eternal.
1327
KING HENRY V Act IV Scenes VI & VII
(~;:~~:r....~:h~. t~ ....... ;..,..,.. f.-ii-..,...,z,r'l"
¥::"tol"f' ..
And he that will not follow Bourbon now, Let him go hence, and with his cap in hand, Like a base pandar, hold the chamber-door Whilst by a slave, no gentler than my dog, His fairest daughter is contaminated •. COlt, Disorder, that hath spoil~d us, friend us now! Let us on heaps go offer up our lives. Orl. We are enow yet living in the fi.eld To smother up the English in our throngs, 20 If any order might be thought upon. Bour. The devil take order now! I'll to the throng: Let life be short; else shame will be too long. [Exeunt. SCENE
A larums·.
Costume design for the Earl of Exeter by Tanya Moisewitch, Stratford-upon-Avon, I9SI 8 Larding. Enriching. 9 honour-owing. Honour-owning. "
haggud. Hacked.
VI. A nother part of the field. Enur KING HENRY EXETER, and others.
and forces,
K. HIt1J. Well have we done, thrice valiant countrymen : But aU's not done; yet keep the French the field. Exe. The Duke of York commends him to your majesty. K. Hen. Lives he, good uncle P thrice within this hour I saw him down; thrice up again, and fighting; From helmet to the spur all blood he was. Ext!. In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie, • Larding the plain; and by his bloody side, • Yoke-fellow to his honour-owing wounds, The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies. 10 • Suffolk first died: and York, all haggled over, Comes to him, wherein gore he lay insteep'd, A nd takes him by the beard; kisses the gashes That bloodily did yawn upon his face; And cries aloud 'Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk! My soul shall thine keep company to heaven; Tarry, sweet soul, fOF mine, then fly abreast, As in this glorious and well-foughten field We kept together in our chivalry!' Upon these words I came and cheer'd him up: 20 He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand, And, with a feeble gripe, says •Dear my lord, Commend my service to my sovereign.' So did he turn and over Suffolk's ne, May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunCtion 380 Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance His bleeding sword 'tWL,'"t England and fair France. All. Amen! K. Hen. Now, welcome, Kate: and bear me witness all, That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
[Flourish..
Q. [sa. God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one! As man and wife, being two, are one in love, So be there 'twixt your kingdoms such a spousal, That never may ill office, or fell jealousy, Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage, Thrust in between the paCtion of these kingdoms, To make divorce of their incorporate league; That English may as French, French Englishmen, Receive each other. God speak this Amen! All. Amen! K. Hen. "Prepare we for our marringe: on which day, My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath, And aU the peers', for surety of our leagues. 400 Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me ; And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be !
[Sennet. Exeunt.
1342
Epilogue KING HENRY V EPILOGUE. Eni8r Chorus. CluJr. Thus far, with rough and aU~unable pen, Our bending author hath pursued the story, In little room confining mighty men, • Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. Small time, but in that small most greatly lived This star of England: Fortune made his sword; By which the world's best garden he achieved.. And of it left his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd Kin, Of France and England, did this king succeed; 10 Whose state so many had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed: Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take. (Exit. •
Henry with Queen Katherine. Drawing by John M. Wright (1777-1866)
2 bending. B{)wing to the audience. 4 staru. i.e. in fits and starts.
1343
King Henry VIII
The Play. Henry VIII is Shakespeare's last play. There is a certain propriety, typical of the planning mind we have observed all through his work, that he should round off his astonishing production, as he had begun, with a chronicle-play on English history. It gave him the opportunity to pronounce his valediction, his real farewell, to the Elizabethan age - of which, all unknown, he would in time become the brightest jewel in its crown - in Cranmer's famous prophecy in baptising the infant Princess Elizabeth. Thus the play ends: the wheel has come full circle. That Henry VIII is dominantly Shakespeare's, the hand recognisable in the leading characters and famous scenes, we need not doubt. Besides, Heming and Condell would not have included the text, from their theatre scripts, if it had not been his. On the other hand, one has the distinct impression that a subordinate hand had a part in it, and this is likely to have been John Fletcher, the master's successor as dramatist-in-chief to the Company. Other reasons also account for the idiosyncrasy of this play. One misses the dynamism of Shakespeare's mind, his characteristic attack on his subject. The mood is a more passive one, of observation, sympathy, reflection, almost resignation. That would be natural enough: after his life of constant effort as actor and dramatist, touring, producing, writing, he was a tired man. Henry VIII was written in 1612-13; after that, though he lived for another three years, he wrote no more. He was content to enjoy his well-earned retirement, as the gentleman of Stratford, with an occasional visit to London to keep his hand in the Company's affairs In spite of all reservations we have to admit, with Dr. Johnson, that the play is 'one of those which still keeps possession of the stage, by the splendour of its pageantry ... Yet pomp is not the only merit of this play. The meek sorrows and virtuous distress of Catherine have furnished some scenes which may be justly numbered among the greatest efforts of tragedy.' This is perhaps too encomiastic; yet Johnson goes further, to say of Catherine's last scene when dying that 'it is, above any other part of Shakespeare's tragedies, and perhaps above any scene of any other poet, tender and pathetic, without gods or furies, or poisons or precipices, without the help of romantic circumstances, without improbable sallies of poetical lamentation, and without any throes of 1344
Introduction
KING HENRY VIII
tumultuous misery.' It is the chaste classicism of the Augustan age that speaks: I suspect that it is precisely the absence of Shakespeare's romanticfougue that makes the Doctor so enthusiastic. At the same time actresses have found this a noble part, and artists, notably Blake, have been inspired by the dying Queen's vision of heavenly spirits. Dr. Johnson failed to observe, what actors have appreciated, that Wolsey's is a fine part too. It has a number of famous passages which have sunk into our communal memory: Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. Or, Farewell! A long farewell to all my greatness! Then there follows an oration, developed in accordance with the rules of rhetoric, such as we have observed again and again, on the stages of man's life; and ending on the wretchedness of him who depends on princes' favour: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Or there is Wolsey's earlier premonition: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
The Character of the Kin.g. A prime trouble with Henry VIII is the character of the King: he is hardly worthy of the title-role, and he is not convincing. He posed an insurmountable problem for the dramatist; for he was still a controversial figure - in the way that Richard III was not (everybody knew the truth about him) - and it was hardly possible to tell the whole truth about Henry. After all, he was Queen Elizabeth's father, though he had killed her mother, and was to kill her cousin, Catherine Howard. Nothing of this in the play. The situation was rather like that with Stalin in Soviet Russia, an overpowering personality; without which the country might not have pulled through its revolution, yet a capricious and cruel monster or, rather, faux-bonhomme. Indeed, only a few years before the play, Robert Cecil, James I's chief minister, then Lord Salisbury, in a speech to the Lords openly condemned Henry's cruelty - much as Krushchev spoke up about Stalin's brutality. Henry VIII inherited his characteristics from his Y orkist stock. He was very like his burly grandfather, Edward IV, who killed his brother, Clarence; his great-uncle was Richard III, who killed his nephews; Henry killed two of his wives, besides various other members of his family - his cousin, Clarence's daughter, the aged Countess of Salisbury, her son, and another cousin, the Marquis of Exeter. Not much of this appeared in the first half of Henry's life - except for Buckingham's execution, with which the play begins - until the crisis of the Reformation, though
1345
KING HENRY VIII
Introduction
Henry VIII, who reigned I509-47. Painting c.I536 after H. Holbein
................ :.".
~:'"
Wolsey and Sir Thomas More (another victim) knew perfectly .."hat was what about Henry. The Reformation was yet another subject that could not be handled in the play - yet it was the backbone of Henry's reign: Majestic lord that broke the bonds of Rome. Thus the play is without a backbone, and wants integration. In place of that, we are given a series of effective scenes, skilfully linked, pulling together disparate events over the years. Shakespeare took advantage of what could be made dramatic use of - for example, Bishop Gardiner's attempt to 'frame' Archbishop Cranmer, which Henry personally frustrated; and then resolved to give the story a ceremonial end with the baptism of Elizabeth.
Shakespeare and Elizabeth I. The tact we have observed all through Shakespeare's career would have prevented him from touching on these controversial issues anyway: 1346
Introduction
KING HENRY VIII
he steered clear of them. It was enough to have to deal with the divorce of Catherine of Aragon, which he does with much sympathy in his portrait of her and managing to save the 'honour' - or, at any rate, dignity - of the King. The dramatist had paid his meed of tributes to Henry and Anne Bullen's daughter, though with none of the outrageous flattery with which many of the poets treated her: as in everything, he retained his essential independence and dignity - as in his relations with his patron. In the event the Queen had condemned Southampton to death and incarcerated him in the Tower, until her own death freed him. It was observed that her favourite dramatist paid no poetic tribute on her passing. Now, ten years later, at the end of his own career, he could look back over it all and see in the perspective of timeas a prophecy - what her reign had been: She shall be loved and feared. Her own shall bless her; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn ... In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. The tribute is to the internal peace she kept so successfully during her long reign. It is not so often noticed that the oration goes on with no less tact to salute her successor. The ashes of the maiden phoenix would create another heir, 'as great in admiration as herself' (forsooth 1): Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations ... This was already coming to pass: Jamestown had been founded but a few years before, with Southampton a promoter (hence Hampton Roads and Hampton River) to take a leading part later in the colonisation of Virginia. The existence of the New World is signalled by the old master in an unmistakeable piece of bawdy at the Princess's christening. There is such a crowd that the Porter cries, What should you do, but knock 'em down by the dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have we some strange Indian with the great tool come to Court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand. His man reports, There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for, o'my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose. Isn't that a rather touching tribute to Bardolph, whose red nose was his prominent feature, after all the years? Or perhaps the same actor, whose appurtenance it was, was stiIl with the Company. Then the Porter again: These are the youths that thunder at a play-house and fight for bitten apples, that no audience but the tribulation of Tower-Hill, or the limbs of Limehouse, are able to endure.
1347
KING HENRY VIII
Introduction
Sir Henry IT'I-,ing
as Wolsey, one of his greatest Shakespearean roles, I892
Wolsey. Norfolk's description of how Wolsey takes his fall out of favour with the King, reminds us how gestural Elizabethan acting was: Some strange commotion
Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then lays his finger on his temple; straight Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts His eye against the moon. Traces of fairly recent tradition about Wolsey make a full character of him, more sympathetic too than that generally entertained by either Protestants or Catholics. In the play he is said to have had a 'witchery in's tongue', which exerted a spell over the King. The Cardinal certainly was an eloquent and seductive speaker; but the truth was that, for the first half of the reign, he did Henry's work for him: he administered the country with immense energy and ability. A couple of famous lines describe him: Lofty and sour to them that loved him not, But to those that sought him, sweet as summer. Shakespeare gives him historical justice - more so than anyone, except his gentlemanattendant, George Cavendish, who knew him best and wrote his life: 1348
Introduction
KING HENRY VIII
Though from an humble stock ... Exceeding wise, fair-spoken and persuading.
Richard III. An earlier historic tradition is mentioned that related to Richard III. Buckingham's father had been Richard's chief supporter in taking the throne from his nephew, perhaps understandably; but his stomach had been turned, like everybody else's, by the murder of the Princes, and Buckingham turned against him. When rounded up at Salisbury, if he had been brought before Richard, the Duke had meant to knife him - suspicious Richard was careful not to give him that chance. With that we go back to Shakespeare's first immense and justified success with an historic character. Richard's great-nephew, who was just as murderous, comes off palely in this last play - only his repeated 'Ha!' has something sinister about it.
The Globe. The Prologue has a similar appeal to that of Henry V: Think ye see The very persons of our noble story As they were living ... And it assures the audience that they will find truth in what they see and hear: I come no more to make you laugh; things now That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and ,,"oe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow. The Epilogue has the regular making up to the audience, especially to the women: If they smile, And say 'twill do, I know, within a while All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap If they hold when their ladies bid' em clap.
The play was produced with exceptional pomp and magnificence, 'even to the matting of the stage; the Knights of the Order with their Georges and garters, and Guards with their embroidered coats, and the like: sufficient in truth within a while to make greatness very familiar.' We see how the theatre had gone up in public estimation and prosperity, carrying its creators and leaders upward with it, from those early days when, as Greene said, the players had been glad to carry their playing-fardel a-footback. At the performance on 29 June 16I3, when chambers were shot off to greet the King's entry to Cardinal Wolsey's masquing, the thatch around the Globe caught fire and the theatre was burnt to the ground. Though it rose again, like a phoenix from its ashes, rebuilt more splendidly than before, it marks a term and puts a period to our story.
Text. Many business documents must have been lost, so that we have not those of the Burbages and we have Henslowe'sl. But, thank heaven, the scripts of the plays, so far as we know, were safe. The text of Henry' VIII, as it appeared in the Folio, was a tidy one, with many more detailed stage-directions than usual, consistent with the dramatist being retired in the country and giving full instructions for production.
I. Philip Henslowe's dealings as theatrical entrepreneur were mostly with the Lord Admiral's Company.
1349
THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF THE LIFE OF
KING HENRY THE EIGHTH. DRAMATIS' PERSONlE. KING HENRY the Eighth. CARDINAL WOLSEY. CARDINAL CAl\IPEIUS. CAPUCIUS, Ambassador from the Emperor Charles V. CRANMER, Archbishop of Canterbury. DUKE OF NORFOLK. DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. DUKE OF SUFFOLK. EARL OF SURREY. Lord Chamberlain. Lord Chancellor. GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester. Bishop of Lincoln. LORD ABERGAVENNY. LORD SANDS. SIR HENRY GUILDFORD. SIR THOMAS LOVELL. SIR ANTHONY DENNY. SIR NICHOLAS V AUX. Secretaries to \Volsey. CROMWELL, Servant to Wolsey.
GRIFFITH, Gentleman-usher to Queen Katharine. Three Gentlemen. DOCTOR BUTTS, Physician to the King. Garter King-at-Arms. Surveyor to the Duke of Buckingham. BRANDON, and a Sergeant-at-Arms. Door-keeper of the Council-chamber. Porter, and his l\1an. Page to Gardiner. A Crier. QUEEN KATHARINE, wife to King Henry, afterwards divorced. ANNE BULLEN, her Maid of Honour, afterwards Queen. An old Lady, friend to Anne Bullen. PA TlENCE, woman to Queen Katharine. Several Lords and Ladies in the Dumb Shows; 'Vomen attending upon the Queen; Scribes, Officers, Guards, and other Attendants. Spirits. SCENE: L01ldon; 'fVest11li1lsteY; Kimbolton.
• A bullet beside a text lint! illdicates all allllotation ill thl' opposite colulIIll.
• •
• •
THE PROLOGUE . I COME no more to make you laugh; things now, That bear a weight): and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present. Those that can pity, here May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; The subjeCt will deserve it. Such as give Their money out of hope they may believe, May here find truth too. Those that come to see Only a show or two, and so agree ]"0 The play may pass, if they be still and willing, I'll undertake may see away their shilling Richly in two short hours. Only they That come to hear a merry bawdy play, A noise of ta.rgets, or to see a fellow In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, 'Vill be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, To rank our chosen truth with such a show As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, To make that only true we now intend, 21 \Villieave us never an understanding friend. Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known The first and happiest hearers of the town, Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see The very persons of our noble story As they were living; think you see them great, And follow'd with the general throng and sweat Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see How soon this mightiness meets misery: 30 And, if you can be merry then, I'll say A man may weep upon his wedding-day.
1-4 I come
110
more . .. to jim,'. See introduction.
3 rwrkillg. :'I Iodng.
11 targets. Shields. 16 motley. The purticoloured dress of the fool. guarded. Trimmed. Opposite,' Henry YIII. Painting by Hans Holbein the 'Younger (I+9i,'8-15·B)
1351
KING HENRY VIII Act I Scene I
The alliance of Henry VI II and Francis 1. Engraying from a contemporary woodcut 6 sum of glory. Henry VIII and Francis I of France. 7 Met in the vale of Aruhen. Known as the Field of the Cloth of Gold; each king vying with the other in magnificence.
ACT I. SCENE
I. London.
All ante-chamber Ul the palace.
Ellter tke DUKE OF NORFOLK at one door; at tile otner, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM and tke LQRD ABERGAVENNY.
19 clinquant. Glittering.
1352
Buck. Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done Since last we saw in France? Nor. I thank your grace, Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there. Buck. An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when • Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, • Met in the vale of Andren. Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde: I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung In their embracement, as they grew together; 1:0 Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd Such a compounded one? Buck. All the whole time I was my chamber's prisoner. Nor. Then you lost The view of earthly glory: men might say, Till this time pomp was single, but now married To one above itself. Each following day Became the next day's master, till the last Made former wonders its. To-day the French, • All c1inquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, I9
Act I Scene I KING HENRY VIII
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain India: every man that stood 21 Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were As chern bins, all gilt: the madams too, Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear The pride upon them. that their very labour Was to them as a painting: now this masque \Vas cried incomparable; and the ensuing night Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, As presence did present them; him in eye, 30 Still him in praise: and, being present both, 'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these sunsFor so they phrase 'em-by their heralds challenged The noble spirits to arms, they did perform Beyond thought's compass; that former fabu10us story, Being no\v seen possible enough, got credit, That Bevis was believed. Buck. 0, you go far. Nor. As I belong to worship and affeCt I n honour honesty, the traCt of every thing 40 Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which adion's self was tongue to. All was royal; To the disposing of it nought rebelJ'd, Order gave each thing view; the office did Distintlly his full fundion. Buck. Who did guide, I mean, who set the body and the limbs Of this great sport together, as you guess? Nor. One, certes, that promises no element In such a business. Buck. I pray you, who, my lord'l Nor. All this was order'd by the good discretion 50 Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. Buck. The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed From his ambitlOus finger. What had he To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder That such a keech can with his very bulk Take up the rays 0' the beneficial sun And keep it from the earth. Nor. Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon 60 F or high feats done to the crown; neither allied To eminent assist.1.nts; but, spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way; A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the king. A her. I cannot tell What heaven hath given him,-let some graver
26 Was to them as a painting. Gave colour to their cheeks. 38 Bevis. Bevis of Hampton was a hero in a favourite medieval romance.
39 worship. i.e. the nobility.
44 office. Officer. 48 pl'omises no element. Seems unlikely to be part of.
55 keech. A round lump of animal fat (alluding to the fact that Wolsey was a butcher's son).
63 self-drawing. Spun from himself. 74 privity'. Knowledge.
Sir Johnston Forbes-Robertson as the Duke of Buckingham, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1892
eye
Pierce into that; but I can see his pride Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, If not from hell Y the devil is a niggard, 70 Or has given all before, and he begins A new hell in himself. Buck. 'Vhy the devil, Upon this French going out. took he upon him, • Without the privity o· the king, to appoint Who should attend on him? He makes up the file
1353
KING HENRY VIII Act I Scene I 79 The honourable boaTd of council out. Without consent of the council.
80 he papers. Whomsoever he has put
on the list.
84 Have bToke ... manon on 'em. Have ruined their
• •
estates to pay for the extravagant clothing.
95 attach'd. Impounded with due legal process. 97 silenced. Confined to his house.
•
100 Like it. If it please.
so
purse. Bag containing the great seal.
•
• · Cardinal Wolsey and the Duke of Buckingham. Painting by Sir John Gilbert (1817-1&)7)
115
•
Buckingham's cousin. Charles Knyvet, was the overseer of his estates. SUrveYOT.
116 examination. Testimony,
The coat of arms of Cardinal Wolsey
1354
Of all the gentry; for the most part such To whom as great a charge as little honour He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, The honourable board of council out, Must fetch him in he papers. Aller. I do know 80 Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have By this so sicken'd their estates, that never They !';hall abound as formerly. Buck. 0, many Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em .For this great journey. What did this vanity But minister communication of A most poor issue? Nor. Grievingly I think, The peace between the French and us not values The cost that did conclude it. Buck. Every man, go After the hideous storm that follow'd, was A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke rnto a general prophecy; That this tempest, Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded The sudden breach on't. Nor. Which is budded out; For France hath tlaw'd the league, and hath attach'd Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. Akr. Is it therefore The ambassador is silenced? Nor. Marry, is't. Aber. A proper title of a peace; and purchased At a superfluous rate! Buck. Why, all this business Our reverend cardinal carried. Nor. Like it your grace, 100 The state takes notice of the private difference Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise youAnd take it from a heart that wishes to~ards you Honour and plenteous safety-that you read The cardinal's malice and his potency Together; to consider further that What his high hatred would effect wants not A minister in his power. You know his nature, That he's revengeful, and I know his sword Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, III Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, You 'n find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock That I advise your shunning.
E ,tter CARDINAL WOLSEY, tlte purse borne before him, certai1toftlte Guard, alld two Secretaries with papers. Tlte CARDINAL in !tis passage fixeth IUs eye on BUCKINGHAM, andBucKINGHAM on kim, both/ull of disdain. • Wol. The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? • \Vhere's his examination? First Secr. Here, so please you. W oL Is he in person ready? First Secr. Ay, please your grace. Wol. Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham Shall lessen this big look. [Exeunt Wolsey and hi's Train. Buck. This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I 120 Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book
Act I Scene I KING HENRY VIII • Outworths a noble's blood. Nor. What, are you chafed? Ask God for temperance; that's the appliam;e ouly Which your disease requires. Buck. I read in's looks Matter against me; and his eye reviled Me, as his abjeCt object: at this instant • He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; 1'11 follow and outstare him. Nor. Stay, my lord, And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills 131 Requires slow pace at first: anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England Can advise me like you: be to yourself As you would to your friend. Buck. I'll to the king; And from a mouth of honour quite cry down This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim • There's difference in no persons. lVor. Be advised; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 140 That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er, In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: I say again, there is no English soul More stronger to direct you than yourself, If with the sap of reason you would quench, Or but allay, the fire of passion. Buck. Sir, I am thankful to you; and I'll go along 150 By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, Whom from the flow of gall I name not but • From sincere motions, by intelligence, And proofs as clear as founts in July when We see each grain of gravel, I do know To be corrupt and treasonous. Nor. Say not { treasonOlls.' Buck. To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, Or wolf, or both,-for he is equal ravenous As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief 160 As able to perform 't; his mind and place InfeCting one another, yea, reciprocallyOnly to show his pomp as well in J.t'rance As here at home, suggests the king our master To this last costly treaty, the interview, That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass Did break i' the rinsing. Nor. Faith, and so it did. Buck. Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardlllai The articles 0' the combination drew As himself pleased; and they were ratified 170 As he cried' Thus let be': to as much end As give a crutch to the dead: but our cauntcardinal Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy ""olsey, ,Vho cannot err, he did it. Now this follow5,'Vhich, as I take it, is a kind of puppy To the old dam, treason,-Charles the emperor, Under pretence to see the queen his aunt,• For 'twas indeed his colour. but he cam~
123 Outworths. Is more powerful than.
1 Z8 bores. Cheats.
139 difference. Distinctions in status. 153 motions. Motives.
The Emperor Charles V, nephew of Katherine of Aragon. Engraving from a painting by Titian (d. I 576)
, 78 coloU7. Pretext.
1355
KING HENRY VIII Act I Scene I 195 mistaken. Misjudged. 204 device and practice. Intrigues and plots.
217 attach. Arrest. 221 monk order.
Q'
tIu! ChartTeux. Monk of the Carthusian
To whisper Wolsey,-here makes visitation: His fears were, that the interview betwixt 180 England and France might, through their amity, Breed him some prejudice; for from this league Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, That he would p1ease to alter the king's course, And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal 191 Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, And for his own ad vantage. Nor. I am sorry To hear this of him; and could wish he were • Something mistaken in 'to Buck. No, not a syllable: I do pronounce him in that very shape He shall appear in proof.
Etzter BRANDON, a Sergeant-itt-arms before kim, and two or tlt.,-ce of the Guard. Bran. Your office, sergeant; execute it. Sergo . Sir, My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I 200 Arrest thee of high treason, in the name Of our most sovereign king. Buck. Lo, you, my lord, The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish. • Under device and practice. Bran. I am sorry To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure You shall to the Tower. Buck. It will help me nothing To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven Be done in this and all things! I obey. 210 o my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! Bran. Nay, he must bear you company. The king [To Abergavemty. Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know How he determines further. A ber. As the duke said, The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure By me obey'd! Bran. Here is a warrant from • The kin~ to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor,Buck. So, so; 219 These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. • Brait. A monk 0' the Chartreux. Buck. 0, Nicholas Hopkins 1 BraIt. He. B1tck. My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, 'Vhose figure even this instant cloud puts on, By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. [Exeunt. 1356
Act I Scene II KING HENRY VIn SCENE II.
The same.
The councll-chamber.
2 level. Line of fire.
Cornets. Enter tke KING, leani.ng on the CARDrNAL's skolelder, tke Nobles, and SIR THOMAS LOVELL; the CARDINAL places himself under tIle KING'sfte t on hz's right side. K lng. My life itself, and the best heart of it, • Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person I'll hear him his confessions justify; And point by point the treasons of his master He shall again relate.
A. noise witkin, crying' Room for the Queen!' Elder QUEEN KATHARINE, teslt.ered by tke DUKE OF NORFOLK, and the DUKE OF SUFFOLK: she kneels. Tke KING risetlt from his state, takes her up, kisses a1zd placctk her by kim. Q. Katll. Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. K lng. Arise, and take place by us: half your suit 10 N ever name to us; you have half our power : • The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; Repeat your will and take it. Q. Kath. Thank rour majesty. That you would love yourself, and m that love Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor The dignity of your office, is the point Of my petition. Kt'ng. . Lady mine, proceed.. Q. Katll. I am solicited, not by a fl!w, • And those of true condition, that your subjects Are in great grievance: there have been commis~ons
Katherine (Flora Robson), Henry VIII (Charles Laughton) and Cardinal Wolsey (Robert Farquharson) Sadler's Wells Theatre, London, 1933
12 moiety. Half. 19 true condition. Loyal. 32 put off. Dismissed. 33 spinsters, carders, fullers. Spinners, combers who prepared the wool for spinning, and those who beat the wool to clean and thicken it.
20
Sent down among 'em, which hath fiaw'd the heart Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, My good lora cardinal, they vent reproaches Most bitterly on you, as putter on Of these exactions, yet the king our master\Vhose honour heaven shield from soil I-even he escapes not . Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks The sides of loyalty, and almost appears In loud rebellion. Nor. N at almost appe.ars, Jt doth appear; for, upon these taxations, 30 The clothiers all, not able to maintain • The many to them' longing, have put off • The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger . And lack of other means, in desperate manner Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, And danger serves among them. K ulg. Taxation! Wherein? and what ta.urion? My lord cardinal, You tb.'lt are blamed for it alike with us, Know you of this taxation! lYol. Please you, sir, 40 • I know .but of a single part, in aught Pertains to the state; and front but in that file Where others tell steps with me. Q. Kat". No, my lord,
Carding and spinning. Engraving from a 14th century manuscript
41-43 I know . .. with me. I know only that I have my own part in state affairs. It is of the front rank, but no more powerful than others who keep up with me.
1357
KING HENRY VIII Act I Scene II 45 alike. To all. 52 exclamation. Reproach.
Ellen Terry
115
Katherine, Lyceum Theatre, London,
18 92
7'5 brake. Thicket.
78 cope. Encounter. 81-83 What we ... not allow 'd. Our successes incompetents (in a word fools) either do not attribute to us or do not approve.
94 stick them in 96 lop. Branch.
1358
OUT
will. Subject them to our whim.
You know no more than others; but you frame • Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome To those which ·would not know them, and yet must . Perforce be their acquaintance. These exaCtions, ·Whereof JIlY sovereign would have note, they are Most pestilent to the hearing; and, to bear 'em, The back is sacrifice to the load. They say SO They are devised by you; or else you suffer • Too hard an exclamation. King. Still exaction! The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, Is this exaction? Q. Katk. I am much too venturous In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief Comes through commissions, which compel from each The sixth part of his substance, to be levied \Vithout delay; and the pretence for this Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: 60 Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, This tractable obedience is a slave To each incensed will. I would your highness Would give it quick consideration, for There is no primer business. Ki1tg. By my life, This is against our pleasure. Wol. And for me, I have no further gone in this than by A single voice; and that not pass'd me but 10 By learned approbation of the judges. If I am Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know My faculties nor person, yet will be The chronicles of my doing, let me say • 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. We must not stint Our necessary actions, in the fear • To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fi'ihes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further 80 • Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up lo" NOV R AB' 1., E, H'E: N R Y VV ri~thefiey ,E arle ofSouthhamp"ton, and Bacon oiTit,chfitld.
,
, H. E Joue I dedicate to your rordfhip iI' witho,ut end:whcr- , of this Pamphlet without l?~'" ginniiig: '.is h.ut a fupcrfluPQS·:', MOity. The warrantlbauc' of your Honoura~le difpolition,~ , , not the ~onh of my'flltutor4~.i Lines makes it atTured ofacceptancc~VVhat fhattt:·' . don~ is -yours, what l~~~ doe is yours, bei~; part 10 all 1baue, deuot~d yours. VVerc my w.nh-, " . greater,~y duety wouldlhcw greater, meanc ti'IBe;' "
as it is?it is.bound t~Jour.Lordt~ip;
!
0
"
whom {,ith,
longbfe ftililengthoed WId! all bapploc1fc.·
''
Your Lordlliipsin aUJu~. "
.1t
. ' ~'11liam,
A '1.
Shakefpt31't":er
Dedication to the Earl oj Southampton, The Rape of Lucrece, Quarto oj I594
1455
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY, EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD. THE love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship, to whom I wish long life, still lengthened with all happiness. Your lordship's in all duty, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
THE ARGUMENT. LUCIUS T ARQUINIUS, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus, after he had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be cruelly murdered, and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs, not req~iring .or st3;ying for the people's suffrages, had possessed hiI;tself of the kingdom, we~t, 8;ccompame~ w,lth his sons and other no.blemen of ~ome, to beSiege Ardea. During whlch slege the pnnclpal men of the army meetmg one evenmg at the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their discourses after supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife: among whom Collatinus extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife Lucretia.. In that pleasant humour they all posted to Rome; and intending, by their secret and sudden arrival to make trial of that which everyone had before avouched, only Collatinus finds his wife, though it were late in the night, spinning amongst her maids: the other ladies were all found dancing and revelling, or in several disports. Whereupon the noblemen yielded Collatinus the viCtory, and his wife the fame. At that time Sextus Tarquinius being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, yet smothering his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to the camp; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and was, according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by Lucrece at Collatium. The same night he treacherously stealeth into her chamber, violently ravished her, and early in the morning speedeth away. Lucrece, in this lamentable plight, hastily dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for her father, another to the camp for Collatine. They came, the one accompanied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius; and finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her sorrow. She, first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the aCtor, and whole manner of his dealing, and Vii thaI suddenly stabbed herself. Which done, with one consent they all vowed to root out the whole hated family of the Tarquins; and bearing the dead body to Rome, Brutus acquainted the people with the doer and manner of the vile deed, with a bitter inveCtive against the tyranny of the king: wherewith the people were so moved, that with one consent and a general acclamation the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state government changed from kings to consuls.
1 Ardea. The capital of the Rutuli, twenty-four miles south of Rome. all in post. In great haste.
• FROM the besieged Ardea all in post, Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, • Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, And to Collatium bears the lightless fire Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire And girdle with embracing flames the waist Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste. Haply that name of ' chaste' unhappily set • This bateless edge on his keen appetite; • When Collatine unwisely did not let xc To praise the clear unmatched red and white • Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight, • Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties • With pure aspeCts did him peculiar duties.
3 Lust-breathed. Inspired by lust.
9 batelers. Not to be blunted. appetite. Lust. 10 let. Forbear.
12 sky of his delight. Lucrece's face. 13 mortal stars. Eyes. 14 aspects. Glances. peculiar. Particular. Opposite,' A lady as Lucretia. Detail from a painting by Lorenzo Lotto (b.c.1480)
1457
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 2& date. Bond, lease.
37 Suggested. Prompted. 40 Bravt"ng compare. Challenging comparison. 42 hap. Luck. 47 liver. The seat of sexual desire.
For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent, Unlock'd the treasure of his happy state; What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent In the possession of his beauteous mate; Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate, That kings might be espoused to more fame, 20 But king nor peer to such a peerless dame.
o happiness enjoy'd but of a few! And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done As is the morning's silver-melting dew Against the golden splendour of the sun! • An expired date, cancell'd ere well begun: Honour and beauty, in the owner's arms, Are weakly fortress'd {rom a world of harms. Beauty itself doth of itself persuade The eyes of men without an orator; 30 What needeth then apologies be made, To set forth that which is !iO singular? Or why is Collatine the publisher Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown From thievish ears, because it is his own? Perchance his boast of Lucrece' sovereignty • Suggested this proud issue of a king; For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be: Perchance that envy of so rich a thing, • Braving compare, disdainfully did sting 40 His high-pitch'd thoughts, that meaner men should vaunt • That golden hap which their superiors want. But some untimely thought did instigate His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those : His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state, NegleCted all, with swift intent he goes • To quench the coal which in his liver glows. o rash false heat, wrapp'd in repentant cold, Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old!
'When at Collatium this false lord arrived, Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame'. Lucrece and Tarquin. Illustration by ]. Yunge-Bateman, 1948 63 the red ... white. Red (the colour of beauty) should defend white (the colour of virtue); that is, by blushing.
When at Collatium this false lord arrived, 50 Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame, \Vithin whose face beauty and virtue strived Which of them both should underprop her fame: When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame; When beauty boasted blushes, in despite Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white. But beauty, in that white intituled, From Venus' doves doth challenge that {air field: Then virtue claims from beauty beauty's red, Which virtue gave the golden age to gild 60 Their silver cbeeks1 and call'd it then their shield; Teaching them tllUS to use it in the fight, • When shame assail'd, the red should renee the white. This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen, Argued by beauty's red and virtue's white: Of either's colour was the other queen, Proving from world's minority their right: Yet their ambition makes them still to fight; The sovereignty of either being so great, That oft they interchange each other's seat. 70 Their silent war of lilies and of roses, Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field,
1458
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE J n their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses; Where, lest between them both it should be kill'd, The coward captive vanquished doth yield To those two armies that would let him go, Rather than triumph in so false a foe. Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue,The niggard prodigal that praised her 50,In that high task hath done her beauty wrong, 80 Which far exceeds his harren skill to show: Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise, In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes.
92 colow'd. Cloaked.
'00 paTling. Speaking. , 04 moralU:e. Interpret.
110 bruised arms. Battered armour.
121 Intending. Pretending.
This earthly saint, adored by this devil, Little suspeCl:eth the false worshipper; For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil; Birds never limed no secret bushes fear : So guiltless she securely gives good cheer And reverend welcome to her princely guest, go Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd; • For that he colour'd with his high estate, Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty; That nothing in him seem'd inordinate, Save sometime too much wonder of his eye, Which, having al~ all could not s.atisfy ; But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store, That, cloy'd with much, he pineth still for more. But she, that never coped with stranger eyes, • Could pick no me.aning from their parling looks, N or read the subtle-shining secrecies 101 'Vrit in the glassy margents of such books: She touch'd no unknown baits, nor fear'd no hooks; • N or could she moralize his wanton sight, More than his eyes were open'd to the light. He stories to her ears her husband's fame, Won in the fields offruitful Italy; And decks with praises Collatine's high name, Made glorious by his manly chivalry • With bruised arms and wreaths of vidorv : 110 Her joy with heaved-up hand she doth-express., And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success. Far from the purpose of his coming hither, He makes excuses for his being there: No cloudy show of stormy blustering weather Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear; Till sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear, Upon the world dim darkness doth display, And in her vaulty prison stows the Day. For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 • Intending weariness with heavy spright; For, after supper, long he questioned With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night: N ow leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight; And everyone to rest themselves betake, Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wake. As one of which doth Tarqllin lie revolving The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining; Yet ever to obtain his will resolving, Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining: 130 Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining;
1459
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 132 meed. Reward.
, 7& falchion. A curved sword.
'80 advisedly. Determinedly.
•
And when great treasure is the meed proposed, Though death be adjunct, there's no death supposed. Those that much covet are with gain so fond, For what they have not, that which they possess They scatter and unloose it from their bond, And so, by hoping more, they have but less; Or, gaining more, the profit of excess Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain. 140 The aim of all is but to nurse the life \Vith honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age; And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, That one for all, or all for one we gage; As life for honour in fell battle's rage; Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost The death of all, and all together lost. So that in venturing ill we leave to be The things we are for that which we expect; And this ambitious foul infirmity, ISO In having much, torments us with defect Of that we have: so then we do neglect The thing we have; and, all for want of wit, Make something nothing by augmenting it. Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, Pawning his honour to obtain his lust; And for himself himself he must forsake: Then where is tmth, if there be no self-trust? When shall he think to find a stranger just, 159 When he himself himself confounds, betrays To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful days? N ow stole upon the time the dead of night, When heavy sleep had closed up mortal eyes: No comfortable star did lend his light, No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries ; N ow serves the season that they may surprise The silly lambs: pure thoughts are dead and still, While lust and murder wakt! to stain and kill And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed, Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; 170 J s madly toss'd between desire and dread; Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm; But honest fe.ar, bewitch'd with lust's foul chann, Doth too too oft betake him lo retire, Beaten away by brain-sick rude desire.
• His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth, That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly; \Vhereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth, \Vhich must be lode-star to his lustful eye; • And to the flame thus speaks advisedly, 180 • As from this cold flint I enforced this fire, So Lucrece must I force to my desire.' Here pale with fear he doth premeditate The dangers of his loathsome enterprise, And in his inward mind he doth debate What following sorrow may on this arise: Then looking scornfully, he doth despise
1460
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE His naked armour of still-slaughter'd lust, And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust:
196 love's . .. weed. i.e. chastity. 198 household's grave. Family tomb.
Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not To darken her whose light excelleth thine: I91 And die, unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot 'Vith your uncleanness that which is divine; Offer pure incense to so pure a shrine: Let fair humanity abhor the deed • That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed. I
236 quittal. Payment.
'0 shame to knighthood and to shining arms!
.0 foul dishonour to my household's grave!
o impious aa, including all foul harms! A martial man to' be soft fancy's slave! True valour still a true respect should have; Then my digression is so vile, so base, That it will live engraven in my face.
200
I Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive, And be an eye-sore in my golden coat; Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive, To cipher me how fondly I did dote; That my posterity, shamed with the note, Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin To wish that I their father had not been. 210
'What win I, if r gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down? I If Collatinus dream of my intent, Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent? 220 This siege that hath engirt his marriage, This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage, This dying virtue, this surviving shame, Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame?
'0, what excuse can my invention make, When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake, Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed? The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed; And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, 230 But coward-like with trembling terror die. , Had Collatinus kill'd my son or sire, Or lain in ambush to betray my life, Or were he not my dear friend, this desire Might have excuse to work upon his wife, • As in revenge or quittal of such strife: But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend, The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end. , Shameful it is: ay, if the faa be known: Hateful it is; there is no hate in loving: 240 I'll beg her love; but she is not her own: The worst is but denial and reproving: My will is strong, past reason's weak removing. Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.'
1461
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 251 effects. Desires.
264 cheer. Countenance. 267 colotn. Pretext.
Thus, graceless, holds he disputation 'Tween frozen conscience and hot-bumin~ will, And with good thoughts makes dispensatIon, Urging the worser sense for vantage still ; Which in a moment doth confound and kill 250 • All pure effeCts. and doth so far proceed, That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed. Quoth he, ' She took me kindly by the hand, And gazed for tidings in my eager eyes, Fearing some hard news from the warlike band, 'Vhere her beloved Collatinus lies. 0, how her fear did make her colour rise! First red as roses that on lawn 'we lay, Then white as lawn, the roses took away. , And how her hand, in my hand b.:.ing lock'd, zoo Forced it to tremble with her loyal fear! \Vhich struck her sad, and then it faster rock'd, Until her husband's welfare she did hear; • Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer, That had Narcissus seen her as she stood, Self-love had ne\'er drown'd him in the flood. • (\Vhy hunt I then for colom or excuses? All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth; Poor wretches ha.vc remorse in poor abuses; Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth: 270 AffeClion is my captain, and he leadeth; And when his gaudy banner is display'd, The coward fights and will not be dismay'd.
'Within his thoughts her heavenly image sits, And in the self-same seat sits Collatine'. Illustration by J. YungeBateman, I948 293 seeks to. Seeks aid from.
295 semile powers. i.e. bodily appetites. 29~298
leader's . .. captain. i.e. the heart.
303 retires his word. Draws back the lock.
'Then, childish fear, avaunt! debating, die! RespeCl and reason, wait on wrinkled age! My heart shall never countermand mine eye: Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage; My part is youth, and beats these from the stage: Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize; Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies?' 280 As com o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear Is almost choked bv unresisted lust. Away he steals with open listening ear, Full of foul hope and full of fond m~strust; Both which, as servitors to the unjust, So cross him with their opposite persuasion, That now he vows a league, and now invasion. Within his thought her heavenly ima6 e sits, And in the self-same seat sits Collatine: That eye which looks on her confounds his wits; That eye which him beholds, as more divine, 29I Unto a view so false will not incline; • But with a uure appeal seeks to the heart, Which once corrupted takes the worser part; • And therein heartens up his servile powers. • "Who, fiattetd by their leader's jocund show, Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours; And as their captain, so their pride doth grow, Paying more slavish tribute than they owe. By reprobate desire thus madly led, 300 The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed. The locks between her chamber and his will, • Each one by him enforced retires his ward;
1462
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE • But, as they open, they all rate his ill, Which drives the creeping thief to some regard : The threshold grates the door to have him heard; Night-wandering weasels shriek to see him there; They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear. As each unwilling portal yields him way, Through little vents and crannies of the place 3:ro The wind wars with his torch to make him stay, And blows the smoke of it into his face, • Extinguishing his conduct in this case; But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch, Puffs forth another wind that fires the torch: And being lighted, by the light he spies Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks: • He takes it from the rushes where it lies, And griping it, the needle his finger pricks; As who should say • This glove to wanton tricks Is not inured; return again in haste; 321 Thou see'st our mistress' ornaments are chaste.'
304 rate. Berate, reproach. 313 conduct. Guide.
318 rushes. Rooms in Shakespeare's time were strewn with rushes. 327 those bars . .. dial. Divisions marked on a clock-face.
328 let. Hinder. 330 attend. Accompany.
332 prime. Spring.
333 sneaped. Nipped.
334 income. Enjoyment.
But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him; He in the worst sense construes their denial: The doors, the wind, the glove, that did delay him, He takes for accidental things of trial ; • Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial, • \Vho with a lingering stay his course doth let, Till every minute pays the hour his debt.
• • So, so,' quoth he, • these lets attend the time, 330
Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring, • To add a more rejoicing to the prime, • And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing. • Pain pays the income of each precious thing; Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves and sands, The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands.' Now is he come unto the chamber door, That shuts him from the heaven of his thought, Which with a yielding latch, and with no more, Hath barr'd him from the blessed thing he sought. So from himself impiety hath wrought, 3~t That for his prey to pray he doth begin, As if the heavens should countenance his sin. But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, Having solicited th' eternal power That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, And they would stand auspicious to the hour, Even there he starts: quoth he, • I muc;t deflower: The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact, How can they then assist me in the act? 350 'Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide! My will is back'd with resolution: Thoughts are but dreams till their effetl:s be tried; The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution; Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution. The eye of heaven is out, and misty night Covers the shame that follows sweet delight.' This said, his guilty hand pluck'd up the latch, And with his knee the door he opens wide. The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch: Thus treason works ere traitors be espied. 361 Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside;
1463
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 383 this blessed league. i.e. the union between Lucrece and Collatine.
387 Cnzenmp. Cheating.
But she, sound sleepin~, fearing no such thing, Lies at the mercy of hIS mortal sting. Into the chamber wickedly he stalks, And gazeth on her yet unstained bed. The curtains being close, about he walks, Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head: By their high treason is his heart misled; Which gives the watch-word to his hand fun soon 370 To draw the cloud that hides the silver moon. Look, as the fair and fiery-pointed sun, Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight; Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun To wink, being blinded with a greater light: 'Whether it is that she ref1eds so bright, That dazzleth them, or else some shame supposed; But blind they are, and keep themselves enclosed.
0, had they in that darksome prison died! Then had they seen the period of their ill; 380 Then Collatine again, by Lucrece' side, I n his clear bed might have repo~d still: • But they must ope, this blessed league to kill; And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight Must sell her joy, her life, her world's delight. Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, • Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss: Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder, Swelling on either side to want his bliss; Between whose hills her head entombed is: 390 Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies, To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes.
'Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies, To be admired of lewd unhallow'd eyes'. Illustration by J. Yunge-Bateman, 1948
\Vithout the bed her other fair hand was, On the green coverlet; whose perfeCt white Show'd like an April daisy on the grass, With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night. Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light, And canopied in darkness sweetly lay, Till they might open to adorn t.\e day. Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her breath; 400 modest wantons! wanton mode-;ty ! Showing life's triumph in the map of death, And death's dim look in life's mortality: Each in her sleep themselves so beautify, As if between them twain there were no strife, But that life lived in death, and death in life.
°
Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue, A pair of maiden worhls unconquered, Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew, And him by oath they truly honoured. 410 Tltese worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred; Who. like a foul usurper, went about From this fair throne to heave the owner out. What could he see but mightily he noted? What did he note but strongly he desired? What he beheld. on that he firmly doted, And in his will his wilful eye he tired. With more than admiration he admired
1464
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin.
436 commends. Commits. 459 antics. Grotesque figures.
As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey, 421 Sharp hunger by the conquest sati"t]ed, So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquill stay, His rage of lust by gazing qualified; Slack'd, not suppres!'o'd; for !'otanding by her !'oide, His eye, which late this mutiny restrains, Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins: And they, like straggling slaves for pillage figh tin g, Obdurate vassals fell exploits effec1ing, In bloody death and ravishment delighting, 430 N or children's tears nor mothers' groans respeCting, Swell in their pride, the onset still expeCting: Anon his beating heart, alarum strikmg, Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking. His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye, • His eye commends the leading to his hand; His hand, as proud of such a dignity, Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand On her bare breast, the heart of ail her land; 'Vhose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, 440 Left their round turrets destitute and pale. They, mustering to the quiet cabinet Where their dear governess and lady lies, Do tell her she is dreadfully beset, And fright her with confusion of their cries: She, much amazed. breaks ope her lock'd-llp eye", Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, Are by his flaming torch dimm'd and controll'd. Imagine her as one in dead of night 449 From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking, That thinks she hath beheld some gh.u.tly l>prite, 'Vhose grim aspec1 sets every joint a-shaking; What terror 'tis! but she, in worser taking, From sleep disturbed, heedfully doth view The sight which makes supposed terror true. \Vrapp'd and confounded in a thoute huge stones with little water-drops.
'Time's glory is to calm contending kings .. .' Time rescuing Truth from a cave. From a Venetian engraving, 155 2 950 springs. Saplings.
953 beldam. Old woman. 964 wit. i.e. wisdom. 985
(J7ts.
Scraps of food.
"Vhy work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage. Unless thou couldst return to make amends? 961 One pchance eros!> Tarquin in his flight; Devise extremes beyond extremity, To make him curse this cursed crimeful night: Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright; 971 And the dire thought of his committed evil Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil {Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances, AffliCt him in his bed with bedrid groans; Let there bechance him pitiful mischances, To make him moan; but pity not his moans: Stone him withharden'd hearts, harder than stones; And let mild women to him lose their mildness, Wilder to him than tiger!> in their wildness. 980 • Let him have time to tear his curled hair, Let him have time against himself to rave, Let him have time of Time's help to despair, Let him have time to live a loathed slave, • Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave, And time to see one that by alms doth live Disdain to him disdained scraps to give. , Let him have time to see his friends his foes, And merry fools to mock at him resort; Let him have time to mark how slow time goes In time of sorrow, and how swift and short 99I His time of folly and his time of sport; And ever let his unrecalling crime Have time to wail th' abusing of his time.
1474
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE
'0 Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill! At his own shadow let the thief run mad, Himself himself seek every hour to kill ! Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill ; For who so base would such an office have 1000 As slanderous deathsman to SO base asIave 1 , The baser is he, coming from a king, • To shame his hope with deeds degenerate: The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 1'nat makes him honour'd, or begets him hate; For greatest scandal waits on greatest state. Tne moon being clouded presently is miss'd, But little stars may hide them when they list.
1003 hope. Expectation as heir. 1013 grooms. Servants, labourers. 1018 skill-contending schools. i.e. universities where disputations were regular. 102& despite. Wrone.
1021 helpless . .. words. Useless talk.
'The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, And unperceived fly with the filth away; 1010 But if the like the snow-white swan desire, The stain upon his silver down will stay. • Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious dav: Gnats-are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly, But eagles gazed upon with every eye. • Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools! U nprofita ble sounds, weak arbitrators! • Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools; Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters; To trembling clients be you mediators: 1020 For me, I force not argument a straw, Since that my case is past the help of law. , In vain I rail at Opportunity, At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night; In vain I cavil with mine infamy, • Tn vain I spurn at my confirm'd despite: • This helpless smoke of words doth me no right. The remedy indeed to do me good Is to let forth my foul-defiled blood. , Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree? Honour thyself to rid me of this shame; 1031 For if I die, my honour lives in thee; But if I live, thou livest in my defame: Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame, And wast afeard to scratch her wicked foe, Kill both thyself and her for yielding so.' This said, from her be-tumbled couch she starteth, To find some desperate instrument of death: But this no slaughterhouse no tool imparteth To make more vent for passage of her breath; 1040 \Vhich, thronging through her lips, so vanisheth As smoke from lEtna, that in air consumes, Or that which from discharged cannon fumes. , In vain,' quoth she, 'I live, and seek in vain Some happy mean to end a hapless life. I fear'd by Tarquin's falchion to be slain, Yet for the self-same purpose seek a knife: But when I fear'd I was a loyal wife: So am I now: no, that cannot be ; Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me. 1050
°
, 0, that is gone for which I sought to live, And therefore now I need not fear to die. To clear this spot by death, at least I give
1475
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 1062 I!raff. Graft.
A badge of fame to slander's livery; A dying life to living infamy: Poor helpless help, the treasure stol'n away, To burn the guiltless casket where it lay 1 , Well, well, dear Colla tine, thou shalt not know The stained taste of violated troth; I will not wrong thy true affeCtion so, 1060 To flatter thee with an infringed oath ; • This bastard graff shall never come to growth: He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute That thou art doting father of his fruit. 'Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought., N or laugh with his companions at thy state: • But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought Basely with gold, but stol'n from forth thy gate. For me, I am the mistress of my fate, • And with my trespass never will dispense, 1070 TiUlife to death acquit my forced offence. , I will not poison thee with my attaint, Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses; • My sable ground of sin I will not paint, To hide the truth of this false night's abuses: My tongue shall utter all; mine eye .., like sluices, As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale, Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.' • By this, lamenting Philo mel had ended The well-tuned warble of her nightly sorrow, 1080 And solemn night with slow sad gait descended To ugly hell; when, 10, the blushing mOlTOW Lends light to all fair eyes that light will borrow: • But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see, And therefore still in night would cloister'd be.
'Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought, ::\or laugh with his companions at thy state'. Illustration by J. Yunge-Bateman, 1948
1067 interest. Share. 1070 will dispense. Pardon.
Revealing day through every cranny spies, And seems to point her ou t where she sits weeping; To whom she sobbing spe.aks: '0 eye of eyes, 'Vhy pry'st thou through my window? leave thy peeping: Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are sleeping: IOgo Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light. F or day hath nought to do what's done by night.'
1074 sable ground. Black background. 1079 Philomel. The nightingale. 1084 cloudy. Sorrowful. 109'5 wayward once. Having once become angry.
1096 bear them mild. Behave mildly.
Thus cavils she with every thing she sees: True grief is fond and testy as a child, • 'Vhowaywardonce, his mood with nought agrees : • Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild; Continuance tames the one; the other wild, Like an unpraCtised swimmer plunging still, With too much labour drowns for want of skill. So she, deep-drenched in a sea of care, 1100 Holds disputation with each thing she views, And to herself all sorrow doth compare; No object but her passion's strength renews; And as one shifts, another straight ensues: Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words; Sometime 'tis mad and too much talk affords. The little birds that tune their morning's joy Make her moans mad with their sweet melody: For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy; Sad souls are slain in merry company; IIlO Grief best is pleased with grief's SOCIety:
1476
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE •
True sorrow then is feelingly sufficed When with like semblance it is sympathized. 'Tis double death to drown in ken of shore: He ten times pines that pines beholding food ~ To see the salve doth make the wound ache more; Great grief grieves most at that would do it good; Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood, Who, being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'erflows; Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows. 1120
'You mocking birds,' quoth she, 'your tunes entomb Within your hollow-swelling feather'd breasts, And in my hearing be you mute and dumb: My restless discord loves no stops nor rests; A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests: • Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears; • Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears.
1113 When with . . . sympathized. When it receives sympathy from similar behaviour. 1126 Relish. Address. 1127 dumps. Slow, sad songs. 1132 diapason. The compass of a musical instrument. 1133 bUl·den-wise. The 'burden' was the bass part, or under-song. 1134 Terells. The king of Thrace, who violated his sister-in-law, Philomela. His wife rescued her, and was later turned into a swallow, Philomela into a ni/lhtingale and Tereus into a hoopoe. 1140 frets. The gradations on the fingerboard of a stringed instrument.
, Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment, Make thy sad grove in my disheveIl'd hair: As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, So I at each sad strain will strain a tear, II3I • And with deep groans the diapason bear; • For burden-wise I 'Il hum on Tarquin still, • While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill. , And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part, To keep thy sharp woes waking, wretched I, To imitate thee well, against my heart Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye; Who, if it wink, shall thereon fall and die. • These means, as frets upon an instrument, II40 Shall tune our heart-strings to true languishment. , And for, poor bird, thou sing'5t not in the day, As shaming any eye should thee behold, Some dark deep desert, seated from the way, That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold, Will we find out; and there we will unfold To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds: Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds.' As the poor frighted deer, that stands at gaze, \Vildly determining which way to fly, I I So Or one encompass'd with a winding maze, That cannot tread the way out readily; So with herself is she in mutiny, To live or die which of the twain were better, 'Vhen life is shamed, and death reproach's debtor. , To kill myself,' quoth she, 'alack, what were it, But with my body my poor soul's pollution? They that lose half with greater patience bear it Than they whose whole is swallow' d in confusion. • That mother tries a merciless conclusion 1160 Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one, 'Vill slay the other and be nurse to none. , My body or my soul, which was the dearer, 'Vhen the one pure, the other made divine?
'Or one encompass'd with a winding maze .. .' Engraving of a coin of Knossos representing the Cretan labyrinth by F.W. Fairholt, in J.O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65
1160 conclusion. Experimen t.
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 1206 averseen. Deceived.
Whose love of either to myself was nearer, When both were kept for heaven and Colla tine ? Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine, His leaves will wither and his sap decay; So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away. , Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted, 1170 Her mansion batter'd by the enemy; Her sacred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted, Grossly engirt with daring infamy: Then let it not be call'd impiety, If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole Through which I may convey this troubled soul. 'Yet die I will not till my Collatine Have heard the cause of my untimely death; That he may vow, in that sad hour of mine, Revenge on him that made me stop my breath. 1\1y stained blood to Tarquin I'll bequeath, II8I \Vhich by him tainted shall for him be spent, And as his due writ in my testament. , 1\1 y honour I'll bequeath unto the knife That wounds my body so dishonoured. 'Tis honour to deprive dishonour'd life: The one will live, the other being dead: So of shame's ashes shall my fame be bred, For in my death I murder shameful scorn: l\Iy shame so dearl., mine honour is new-born.
'Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost, II91 What legacy shall I bequeath to thee? My resolution, love, shall be thy boast, By whose example thou revenged mayst be. How Tarquin must be used, read it in me: !>'lyself, thy friend, will kill myself, thy foe, And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so. 'This brief abridgement of my will I make: My soul and body to the skies and ground; My resolution, husband, do thou take; 1200 l\Iine honour be the knife's that makes my wound ; :My shame be his that did my fame confound; And all my fame that lives disbursed be To those that live, and think no shame of me. 'Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will; • How was I overseen that thou shalt see it! ~Iy blood shall wash the slander of mine ill; 1\ly life's foul deed, my life's fair end shall free it. Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say" So be it:" Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee: Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.' This plot of death when sadly she had laid, And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes, With untuned tongue she hoarsely calls her maid, \Vhose swift obedience to her mistress hies; For fleet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies. Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow. Her mistress she doth give demure good-morrow, \Vith soft-slow tongue, true mark of modesty, And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow, 1221 For why her face wore sorrow's livery; But clurst not ask of her audaciously Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so, N or why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe.
1478
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, Each flower moisten'd like a melting eye; Even so the maid with swelling drops gan wet Her circled eyne, enforced by sympathy Of those fair suns set in her mistress' sky, 1230 \Vho in a salt-waved ocean quench their light, Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night. A pretty while these pretty creatures stand, • Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling: One justly weeps; the other takes in hand No cause, but company, of her drops spilling: Their gentle sex to weep are often willing; Grieving themselves to guess at others' smarts, And then they drown their eyes or break their hearts.
1234 conduits. Fountains. coral cisterns. i.e. eyes which are red from weeping. 1242 strange kinds. I.e. dispositions other than their own.
1247 champaign plain. Flat countryside. 1257 hild. Held. 1258 fulfili'd. Filled up. 1261 precedent. Proof. 1269 counterfeit. Image, picture.
For men have marble, women waxen, minds, 1240 And therefore are they form'd as marble will; • The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill: Then call them not the authors of their ill, No more than wax shall be accounted evil ·Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil. • Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain, Lays open all the little worms that creep; In men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep: 1250 Through crystal walls each little mote will peep: Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, Poor women's faces are their own faults' books. No man inveigh against the wither'd flower, But chide rough winter that the flower hath kiIl'd: Not that devour'd, but that which doth devour, • Is worthy blame. 0, let it not be hiId • Poor women's faults, that they are so fulfiU'd With men's abuses: those proud lords, to blame, Make weak-made women tenants to theirshame. • The precedent whereof in Lucrece view, 126I Assail'd by night with circumstances strong Ot present death, and shame that might ensue By that her death, to do her husband wrong: Such danger to resistance did belong, That dying fear through all her body spread; And who cannot abuse a body dead?
By this, mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak • To the poor counterfeit of her complaining: , My girl,' quoth she, , on what occasion break Those tears from thee, that down thy cheeks are raining? 1271 I f thou dost weep for grief of my sustaining, Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood: If tears could help, mine own would do me good. 'But tell me, girl, when went'-and there she stay'd Till after a deep groan-'Tarquin from hence?' 'Madam, ere I was up,' replied the maid, , The more to blame my sluggard negligence: Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense; Myself was stirring ere the break of day, 1280 And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away.
1479
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 1298 Conceit. Thought.
1300 curious-good. Too well expressed. 131 0 tenour. Statement.
1316 stain'd excuse. Account of her shame. 1319 fashion. Manner.
, But, lady, if your maid may be so bold, She would request to know your heaviness.' '0, peace l' quoth Lucrece: 'ifit should be told, The repetition cannot make it less; For more it is than I can well express: And that deep torture may be call'd a hell \Vhen more is felt than one hath power to tell. , Go, get me hither paper, ink, and pen : Yet save that labour, for I have them here. 1290 \Vhat should I say? One of my husband's men Bid thou be ready, by and by, to bear A letter to my lord, my love, my dear: Bid him with speed prepare to carry it: The cause craves haste, and it will S{lon be writ.' Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write, First hovering o'er the paper with her quill: • Conceit and grief an eager combat fight; \Vhat wit sets down is blotted straight with will ; • This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill: 1300 Much like a press of people at a door, Throng her inventions, which shall go before. At last she thus begins: 'Thou worthy lord Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, Health to thy person! next vouchsafe t' affordIf ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt seeSome present speed to come and visit me. So, I commend me from onr house in grief: My woes are tedious, though my words are brief.' • Here folds she up the tenour of her woe, 13IO Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly. By this short schedule Collatine may know Her grief, but not her grief's true quality: She dares not thereof make discovery, Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse, • Ere she with blood had stain'd her stain'd excuse. Besides, the life and feeling of her passion She hoards, to spend when he is by to hear her: • \Vhen sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her 1320 From that suspicion which the world might bear her. To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter With words, till action might become them better. To see sad sights moves more than hear them told: For then the eye interprets to the ear The heavy motion that it doth behold, When every part a part of woe doth bear. 'Tis but a part of sorrow that we hear: Deep sounds make les.!)ernoise than shallow fords., And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words. 1330 Her letter now is seal'd, and on it writ , At Ardea to my lord with more than haste.' The post attends, and she delivers it, Charging the sour-faced groom to hie as fast As lagging fowls before the northern blast: Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems: Extremity still urgeth such extremes.
1480
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE • The homely villain court'sies to her low; And, blushing on her, with a steadfast eye Receives the scroll without or yea or no, 1:340 And forth with bashful innocence doth hie. But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie Imagine every eye beholds their blame; For Lucrece thought he blush'd to see her shame \Vhen, silly groom! God \\"ot, it was defect Of Spilit, life, and bold audacity. Such harmless creatures ha,'e a tnle respeCt To talk in deeds, while others saucily Promise more speed, but do it leisurely : Even so this pattern of the worn-out age 1350 • Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage.
1338 villain. Servant.
1351 Pawn'd. Pledged. 1355 wistly, Earnestly.
1310 annoy. Injury. 1384 II1.t. Likinj:(.
His kindled duty kindled her mistrust, That two red fires in both their faces blazed; She thought he blush'd, as knowing Tarquin's lust, • And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed; Her earnest eye did make him more amazed: The more she saw the blood his cheeks replenish, The more she thought he spied in her ::.ome blemish. But long she thinks till he return again, And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone. 1360 The weary time she cannot entertain, For now 'tis stale to sigh, to weep, and groan: So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan, That she her plaillts a little while doth stay, Pausing for means to mourn some newer way.
'In Ajax and L'lysses, 0, what art . . 'Ajax with L'lysses. From a French WOOdCllt, 1557
At last she cans to mind where hangs a piece Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy; Before the which is drawn the power of Greece, For Helen's rape the city to destroy, • Threatening cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy; I370 \Vhich the conceited painter drew so proud, As heaven, it seem'd, to kiss the turrets bow 'd. A thousand lamentable objeCts there, In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life: Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear, Shed for the slaughter'd husband by the wife: The red blood reek'd, to show the painter's strife; And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights, Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights. There might you see the labouring pioner 1380 Begrimed with sweat, and smeared all with dust: And from the towers of Troy there would appedr The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust, • Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust: Such 5weet observance in this work was had, That one might see those far-off eyes look sad. In great commanders grace and majesty You might behold, triumphing in their faces; In youth, quick bearing and dexterity; And here and there the painter interlaces 1390 Pale cowards, marching on with trembling paces; \Vhich heartless peasants did 50 well resemble, That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble. In Ajax and Ulysses, 0, what art Of physiognomy might one behold!
1481
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE 1401 Nestor. The elder statesman on the Greek side in the Trojan war.
The face of either cipher'd either's heart; Their face their manners most expressly told: In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigour roll'd; But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent I399 Show'd deep regard and smiling government. • There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand, As 'twere encouraging the Greeks to fight; Making such sober aCtion with his hand, That it beguiled attention, charm'd the sight: In speech, it seem'd, his beard, all silver white, Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly • Thin winding breath, which purl'd up to the sky. About him were a press of gaping faces, Which seem'd to swallow up his sound advice; All jointly listening, but with several graces, 14IO As if some mermaid did their ears entice, • Some high, some low, the painter was so nice; The scalps of many, almost hid behind, Tojump up higher seem'd, to mock the mind. Here one man's hand lean'd on another's head, His nose being shadow'd by his neighbour's ear; • Here one being throng'd bears back, all boll'n and red; Another smother'd seems to pelt and swear: And in their rage such signs of rage they bear, As, but for loss of Xestor's golden words, 1420 It seem'd they would debate with angry swords.
Nestor tells the story of the Trojan War.
1401 purl'd. Curled.
, 412 nice. Precise. 1417 boli'n. Swollen. 1436 strand of Dardan. Shore of Dardania (another name for Troas, the country of which Troy was the capital).
1437 Simois. A tributary of the River Scamander in Troy.
1440 than. Then. 1444 stell'd. Portrayed. 1447-1448 Hecuba . .. Priam. The queen and king of Troy.
1449 Py,.rhus. The slayer of Priam. 1450 anatomized. Dissected.
For much imaginary work was there; Conceit deceitful, so compaCt, so kind, That for Achilles' image stood his spear, Griped in an armed hand; himself, behind, 'Vas left Ullseen, save to the eye of mind: A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head, Stood for the whole to be imagined. And from the wall!': of strong-besieged Troy When their brave hope, bold HeCtor, march'd to field, 1430 Stood. many Trojan mothers, sharing joy To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield; And to their hope they such odd action yield, That through their light joy seemed to appear, Like bright things stain'd, a kind of heavy fear. • And from the strand of Dardan, where they fought, • To Simois' reedy banks the red blood ran, Whose waves to imitate the battle sought With swelling ridges: and their ranks began • To break upon the galled shore, and than 1440 Retire again, till, meeting greater ranks, They join and shoot their foam at Simois' banks. To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come, • To find a face where all distress is stell'd. Many she sees where cares have carved some, But none where all distress and dolour dwell'd, • Till she despairing Hecuba beheld, Staring on Priam's wounds with her old eyes, • Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies. • In her the painter had anatomized 1450 Time's ruin. beauty's wreck, and grim care's reign : Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguised;
1482
THE RAPE OF LUCRECE Of what she was no semblance did remain: Her blue blood changed to black in every vein, Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed, Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead. On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes, And shapes her sorrow to the beldam's woes, Who nothing wants to answer her but cries, • And bitter words to ban her cruel foes: 1460 The painter was no god to lend her those: And therefore Lucrece swears he did her wrong, To give her so much grief and not a tongue. , Poor instrument,' quoth she, ' without a sound, I'll tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue; And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted wound, And rail on Pyrrhus that hath done him wrong; And with my tears quench Troy that burns so long; And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies. 1470 • 'Show me the strumpet that began this stir, That with my nails her beauty I may tear. Thy heat of lust, fond Paris, did incur This load of wrath that burning Troy doth bear: Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here; And here in Troy, for trespass of thine eye, The sire, the son, the dame, and daughter die. • Why should the private pleasure of some one Become the public plague of many moe? Let sin, alone committed, light alone 1480 Upon his head that hath trangressed so ; Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe: For one's offence why should so many fall, • To plague a private sin in general?
1410 ban. Curse.
1471
i.e. Helen, wife of the Greek
the ftrumfx!t.
Menelaus. r- - -
................ _ .....•....•..__ .........
!
~"'~
," j''~'4.;~ -;.'
;
,
I
i'~
~!~:{;)
l1",1,';"
'/ ) >,
,t',
1""1 ~..
"
................•.........__ ... _ .......• ".
-r...
!
/.:
>-./ .:.i
'I'",
~~Jk---~
Venus presenting Helen to Paris. Illustration by John Flaxman from Homer's Iliad, translated by Alexander Pope, 1793
1484 To plague . .. general. To make the whole public suffer, for the punishment of an individual.
1486 Hector . .. Troilus. Trojan princes. 1502 Phrygian. i.e. from Phrygia, in Asia minor.
'Lo, here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies, • Here manly HeCtor faints, here Troilus swounds, Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies, And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds, And one man's lust these many lives confounds: Had doting Priam check'd his son's desire, 14iarc. Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; Perchance because she knows them innocent. Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful, Because the law hath ta' en revenge on them. No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips; 120 Or make some sign how I may do thee ease :
TITUS ANDRONICUS
64 object. Sight.
71 Xilus. The river ~i1e. L/WI.
Costume design for Layinia by Desmond Heeley, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1955
--------------------82 engine. Instrument. 90
IIllreCltyillg.
Incurable .
96 em:;olls. ::vIaIevolent_ 101
Spl/n!.
Thrust.
lsn
TITUS ANDRONICUS
Act III Scene I
128 clearness. i.e. clear pool.
149 Limbo. The border of Hell.
Hell or Hades. Engraving from a vase painting of the 3rd century B.C.
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, With miry slime left on them by a flood? And in the fountain shall we gaze so long .Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? 130 Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows Pass the remainder of our hateful days? \Vhat shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, Plot some device of further misery, To make us wonder'd at in time to come. Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. lJ.farc. Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot fhy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, 140 For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. Tit. Mark, .Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say That to her brother whi.ch I said to thee: His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. 0, what a sympathy of woe is this, .As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! 149
Etzter AARON. A ar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor Sends thee this word,-that, if thou love thy sons, Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, Or anyone of you, chop off your hand, And send it to the king: he for the same Will send thee hither both thy M>ns alive; And that shall be the ransom for their fault. Tit. 0 gracious emperor! 0 gentle Aaron 1 Did ever raven sing so like a lark, That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? With all my heallt, I'll send the emperor 160 Myhand: Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? Luc. Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down so many enemies, Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn : My youth can better spare my blood than you; And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. Marc. Which of your hands hath Dot defended Rome, And rear'd aloft L":te bloody battle-axe, 'Vriting destruction on the enemy's castle? 170 0, Done of both but are of high desert: My hand hath been but idle; let it serve To ransom my two nephews from their death; Then have I kept it to a worthy end. Aar. Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, For fear they die before their pardon come. Marc. Myhand shall go. Luc. By heaven, it shall not go! Tit. Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. 1578
Act III Scene I
TITUS ANDRONICUS
Luc.
Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, 180 Let me redeem my brothers both from death. Marc. And, for our father's sake and mother's care, N ow let me show a brother's love to thee. Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand. ~uc. Then I'll go fetch an axe. Marc. But I will use the axe. [Exeunt Lucius atulllEarcus. Tit. Come hither, Aaron; 1'11 deceive them both: Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. Aar. (Astde] If that be caU'd deceit, I will be honest, And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: 190 But 1'11 deceive you in another sort, And that you'11 say, ere half an hour pass.
[Cuts ojf Titus's hand. Be-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS. Tit.
Now stay your strife! what shall be is dispatch'd. Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: Tell him it was a hand that warded him From thousand dangers; bidbim bury it; More hath it merited; that let it have. As for my sons, say I account of them As jewels purchased at an easy price; 199 And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. Aar. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. (Aside] Their heads, I mean. 0, how this villany Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it ! Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace, Aaron will have his soul black like his face. [Exit. Tit. 0, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: If any power pities wretched tears, To that I call! [To Lav.] What, wilt thou kneel with me? 210 Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. .Marc. brother, speak with possibilities, And do not break into these deep extremes. Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom1 Then be my passions bottomless with them. Marc. But yet let reason govern thy lament. Tit. If there were reason for these miseries, Then into limits could I bind my woes: 221 When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? .And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! She is the weeping welkin, J the earth: Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; Then must my earth with her continual tears Become a deluge, overfiow'd and drown'd; 230 For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, But like a drunkard must I vomit them. Then give me leave, for losers will have leave To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Titus: 'Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.' Derek Godfrey as Titus and Keith Michell as Aaron, Old Vic, 1957
225 coil. To-do.
°
1579
TITUS ANDRONICUS
Act III Scene I
~-
·E
=:
Messenger: 'Here are the heads of thy hvo noble sons ... ' Woodcut attributed to Albrecht DUrer (1471-1528)
253 fealflll slumber. i.e. nightmare. 257 dear. Grie\·olls.
270 tributary. In tribute.
1580
Enter a Messenger, witlt. two It.eads and a hand. Mess. 'Vorthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd ;. That woe is me to think upon thy woes 240 l\fore than remembrance of my father's death, [Exit. IIfarc. Now let hot JEtna cool in Sicily, And be my heart an e\'er-burning hell! These miseries are more than may be borne. To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; But sorrow flouted at is double death. Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, And yet detested life not shrink thereat! That ever death should let life bear his name, 249 \Vhere life hath no more interest but to breathe! [Lavinia kisses Titus. IIfarc. Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless As frozen water to a starved snake. • Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end? IIfarc. N ow, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here; .Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, Even like a stony image, cold and numb. Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: 260 Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight The closing up of our most wretched eyes: N ow is a time to storm; why alt thou still? Tit. Ra, ha, ha! Marc. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, And would usurp upon my watery eyes, .And make them blind with tributary tears: 270 Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? For these two heads do seem to speak to me, And threat me I shall never come to bliss Till all these mischiefs be return'd again Even in their throats that have committed them. Come, let me see what task I have to do. You heavy people, circle me about, That I may turn me to each one of you, And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; And in this hand the other will I bear. 281 Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: And, if vou love me, as I think you do, Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. [Exeultt Titus, Marcus, and La'l1i1tia. Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father, The wofull'st man that ever lived in Rome: 290
Act III Scene II Farewell, proud Rome; till Lucius come again, He leaves his pledges dearer than his life: Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister; 0, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been! But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives But in oblivion and hateful griefs. If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs; And make proud Saturnine and his empress oBeg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen. Now will J to the Goths, and raise a power, 300 To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine. [Exit. SCENE
TITUS ANDRONICUS
299 Tarquin. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, King of Rome, expelled because his son had committed rape on Lucretia.
II_ A room in Titus's MUse. A banquet set Ot4t.
Ettier
ami young LUCIUS, a Boy. Tit. So, so; now sit: and look you eat no more Than will preserve just so much strength in us As will revenge these bitter woes of ours. o Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot: Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands, .And cannot passionate our tenfold grief With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine Is left to tyranmze upon my breast; Who, when my heart, all mad with misery, Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh, 10 Then thus I thump it down. (To Lavinia.] Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs! When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating, Thou canst not strike it thus to make it stilt Wmmd it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans; 'Or get some little knife between thy teeth, And just against thy heart make thou a hole; That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall May nUl into that sink, and soaking in Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears. 20 Marc. Fie, brother, fie! teach her not thu:; to lay Such violent hands upon her tender life. Tit. Row now! has sorrow made thee dote already? Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I. What violent hands can she lay on her life? Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands; To bid lEneas ten the tale twice o'er, How Troy was burnt and he made miserable! 0, handle not the theme, to talk of hands, Lest we remember still that we have none. 30 Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk, As if we should forget we had no hands, If Marcus did not name the word of hands! Cume, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this: Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says; I can interpret all her martyr'd signs; She says she drinks no other drink but tears, Brew'd with her sorrow, mesh'd upon her cheeks: Speechless complainer, I wi11learn thy thought; In thy dumb atlion will I be as perfeCt 40 As begging hermits in their holy prayers: Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven, • Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign, But I of these will wrest an alphabet .And by still practice learn to know thy meanin~. TITUS, MARCUS, LAVINIA,
The rape of Lucretia. Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 1821
4 unknit that so,row-wreathen knot. i.e. uncross your anus.
6 passwnate. Express with feeling. 43 wink. Close the eyes.
45 still. Constant.
1581
TITUS ANDRONICUS
Act IV Scene I
Boy. Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments~
Make-my aunt merry with some pleasing tale. Marr;. Alas, the- tender boy, in passion moved, Dothwe~p to see his grandsire's heaviness. Tit. Peace, tender sapling; thou art made of tears, ,50 And tears will,quickly melt thy life away. [Marcus strikes tJt.e disk with a km;[e What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy kDlfe? Marc. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly. Tit. Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart; Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny: A deed of death done on the innocent Becomes not Titus' brother: get thee gone; I see thou art not for my company. Marc. Alas, my lord, I have but kill'd a fly. Tit. But how, if that fly had a father and mother? 60 How would he hang his slender gilded wings, And buzz lamenting doings in the air I . Poor hannless fly, That, with his pretty buzzing melody, Came here to make' us merry! and thou hast kill'd him. Marc. Pardon me, sir; it was a black iUfavour'd fiy, Like to the empress' Moor; therefore I kill'd him.
Tit.
Costume design for young Lucius by Desmond Heeley, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1955
0,0,0,
Then pardon me for reprehending thee, For thou hast done a charitable deed. 70 Give me thy knife, I will insult on him; Flattering myself, as if it were the Moor Come hither purposely to poison me.There's for thyself, and that's for Tamora Ah, sirrah! Yet~ I think, we are not brou~ht so low, But that between us we can kill a fiy That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor. Marc. Alas, poor man! grief has so wrought on him, He takes false shadows for true substances. 80 Tit. Come, take away. Lavinia, go with me: I'll to thy closet; and go read with thee Sad stories chanced in the times of old. Come, boy, and go with me: thy sight is young, And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV. I. Rome. Titus's garden. Enter young LUCIUS, and LAVINIA running after kim, and the 60y fiies from Iter, wt"th books under his arm. Then enter TITOS and ScENE
MARCUS.
Young Luc. Help, grandsire, help! my aunt Lavinia Follows me every where, I know not why: Good UIic1e Marcus, see how swift she comes. Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean Marc. Stand by me, Lucius: do not fear thine aunt. Tit. She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm. Young Luc;. Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
1582
Act IV Scene I Marc. What means my niece Lavinia by these sign.s ~ Tit. Fear her not, Lucius: somewha.t doth she mean: See, Lucius, see how much she_ makes of thee: 10 Somewhither would she have thee go with her• • Ab, boy, Cornelia neVer' with more care Read to her sons than she hath read to thee • Sweet poetry and-Tully's Orator. Marc. Canst thou not guess whcrefOl'e she plies thee -t.'lUS ? Young Luc. My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess, Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her: ! Tut, I have done a tho.usand dreadful things As willingly as one would kill a fly, • And nothing grieves me heartily indeed But that I cannot do. ten thousand more. Luc. Bring down the devil; for he must not die So sweet a death as hanging presently. Aar. If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue! ISO Luc. Sirs, stop his mouth. and let him speak no more.
TITUS ANDRONICUS
130 forswear. Perjure. 143 heartily. To my heart.
Aaro.n: 'If there be devils, would I were a devil, to live and bum in everlasting fire ... ' Engraving from an I I th century manuscript 1 sad habiliment. Dismal clothing.
8 work confusion on. Arrange the destruction o.f.
Eltter a Goth.
Third Goth.
My lord, there is a messenger from Rome Desires to be admitted to your presence. Luc. Let him come near.
Enter lEJ\,IILIUS. W elcome,1Emilius: what's the new:> from Rome? Aimil. Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths, The Roman emperor greets you all by me; And, for he understands you are in arms, He craves a parley at your father's house. Willing you to demand your hostages, 160 And they shall be immediately deliver'd. First Gotk. What says our general? Luc. iEmilius, let the emperor give his pledges Unto my father and my uncle Marcus, And we will come. March away. [Exewtl. SCENE
E,tter
II. Rome. Bifore Titus's Iwuse.
TAMORA, DEMETRIUS,
and
CHIRON,
dis-
guised. Tam. Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment, I will encounter with Andronicus, And say I am Revenge, sent from below To. join with hIm and right his heinous wro.ngs. Knock at his study, where, they say:, he keeps, To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge; Tell him Revenge is come to join with him, • And work confusion on his enemies. •
[They knock.
Enter TITUS, above. Tit. Who doth molest my contemplation! I s it your trick to make me ope the door, That so my sad decrees may flyaway, And all my study be to no effect?
10
1595
TITUS ANDRONICUS
Act V Scene II
19 odds. Better.
38 couch. Lie concealed. 46 surance. i.e. evidence in proof. 50 proper palfreys. Good horses.
56 Hyperion. The sun god.
Costwne design for Demetrius by Desmond Heeley, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1955
59 Rapine. Rape. 70 closing. Agreeing.
1596
You are deceived: for what I mean to do See here in bloody lines I have set down; And what is written shall be executed. Tam. Titus, J am come to talk with thee. Tit. No, not a word; how can I grace my talk, Wanting a hand to give it aCtion? .Thou hast the odds of me; therefore no more. Tam. If thou didst know me, thou wouldest talk with me. 20 Tit. I am not mad; I know thee well enough: 'Vitness this wretched stump, witness these crimson lines; Witness these trenches made by grief and care; Witness the tiring day and heavy night; Witness all sorrow, that I know thee well For our proud empress, mighty Tamora: Is not thy coming for my other hand? Tam. Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora ; She is thy enemy, and J thy friend: 1 am Revenge: sent from the infernal kingdom, 30 To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind, By working wreakful vengeance on thy fo·es. Come down, and welcome me to this world's light; Confer with me of murder and of death: There's not a hollow cave or lurking-place. No vast obscurity or misty vale, 'Vhere bloody murder or detested rape .Can couch for fe.ar, but I will find them out ; And in their ears tell them my dreadful name, Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake. Tit. Art thou Revenge? and art thou sent to me, 41 To be a torment to mine enemies? Tam. J am; therefore come down, and welcome me Tit. Do me some service, ere I come to thee. La, bv thy side where Rape and Murder stands; .Now give some surance that thou art Revenge, Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot-wheels; And then I'll come and be thy waggoner, And whirl along with thee about the globe . • Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet, 50 To hale thy vengeful waggon swift away, And find out murderers in their guilty caves: And when thy car is load en with their heads. I will dismount, and by the waggon-wheel Trot, like a servile footman, all day long, .Even from Hyperion's rising in the east Until his very downfall in the sea: And day by day I'll do this heavy task, .So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there. Tam. Thes~ are my ministers, and come with me. 60 Tit. Are these thy ministers? what are they call'd? Tam. Rapine and Murder; therefore called so, Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men. Tit. Good Lord, how like the empress' sons they are! And you, the empress! but we worldly men Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes. o sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee; And, if one arm's embracement will content thee, I will embrace thee in it by and by. [Exit above. • Tam. This closing with him fits his lunacy: Whate'er I forge to feed his brain-sick fits, 71 Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches, For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
Act V Scene II And, being credulous in this mad thought, I'll make him send for Lucius his SOil; And, whiL. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? 190 La. Cap. The people in the street cry Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this which startles in our ears? First Watclt. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, \Varm and new kill'd.
1667
ROMEO AND JULIET Act V Scene III Prince, Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. First 1-Valek. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; \Vith instruments upon them, fit to open 200 These dead men's tombs. Cap. 0 heavens! 0 wife, look how our daughter bleeds! • This dagger hath mista'en,-for, 10, his house rs empty on the back or l\Iontague,And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! La. Cap. 0 me! this sight of death is as a hell, That warns lily old age to a sepulchre.
Capulet: '0 hea,'ens! 0 wife, look how our daughter bleeds!' Detail from a painting by Lord Frederick Leighton, [806
203 mista'eIl. Been removed. hOllse. i.e. \\'ound.
214 untaught. Ill-mannered, 226 impeach. i.e. accuse. purge. i.e. exonerate. 229 date of breath. Expectation of life. 237 siege. Seat.
248 borrou:'d. Temporary.
1668
Enter :\IoXTAGl'E and otkers. Prince. Come, ::\Iontague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down. 209 .JIoll. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead lo-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: \Vhat further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. • 11l01t. 0 thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And then will I be general of your woes, 219 And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the parties of suspicion. Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least, Yet most suspe8:ed, as the time and place Doth make against me, of this direful murder; • And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself excused. Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. • Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. 230 Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city, For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. • You, to remove that siege of grief from her. Betroth'd and would have married her perforce To County Paris: then comes she to me, 239 And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean To rid her from this second marriage, Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, • To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, Being the time the potion's force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, 250 Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight Return'd my letter back. Then all alone At the prefixed hour of her waking, Came I to take her from her kindred's vault:
Act V Scene III Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: But when I came, some minute ere the time Of her awaking, here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, 260 And bear this work of heaven with patience: But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; And she, too desperate, would not go with me, But, as it seems, did violence on herself. All this I know; and to the marriage Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this Miscarried by my fault, let myoId life Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, Unto the rigour of severest law. Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. 270 Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's de.ath ; And then in post he came from Mantua To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he e.arly bid me give his father, And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, If I departed not and left him there. Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it. \Vhere is the county's page, that raised the watch? Sirrah, what made your master in this place? 280 Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; And by and by my master drew on him; And then I ran away to call the watch. Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, Their course oflove, the tidings of her death : And here he writes that he did buy a poison Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. 290 Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill y.our joys with love. And J for winking at your discords too Have lost a brace of kinsmen : all are punish'd. Cap. 0 brother Montague, give me thy hand: • This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand. Mon. But I can give thee more: For I will raise her statue in pure gold; That while Verona by that name is known, 300 There shall no figure at such rate be set As that of true and faithful Juliet. Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie : Poor sacrifices of our enmity! Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt.3Ic
ROMEO AND JULIET
Reconciliation of the :\lontagues and the Capulets, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1961
297 jointure. Wedding settlement.
1669
Julius Caesar 1599
CAESAR is, along with Coriolanus, the most classic of Shakespeare's plays, as if to show the world - and in particular Ben Jonson, who was at this time writing for the Chamberlain's Men - that he knew quite well what classic decorum demanded, though it was not in keeping with his richer, romantic nature. Paradoxically, it was precisely because of this that the Augustan Dr. Johnson was not much drawn to the play: he preferred Shakespeare's characteristic mixture, the more coloured texture, the richer variousness - and perhaps this betrays a latent romanticism in the soul of the great Augustan. Nothing of this impeded the success of the play in the dramatist's own age, more catholic in its tastes and with no inhibitions. John Weever tells us:
JULIUS
The many-headed multitude were drawn By Brutus' speech that Caesar was ambitious: \Vhen eloquent Mark Antony had shown His virtues, who but Brutus then was vicious? It is significant that this was the moral that people drew from the play in the year of its performance. Years later Leonard Digges testified to the response of the audience:
So have I seen when Caesar would appear, And on the stage at half-sword parley were Brutus and Cassius - 0 how the audience Were ravished! with what wonder they went thence! This is contrasted with the failure of Ben Jonson's 'tedious, though well-laboured' classic plays. Shakespeare's sense of the theatre was infallible, whether tragedy or comedy, romantic (though even those plays are full of classical allusions, from his education) or even classic in the more specialised sense of the word. 1670
Introduction
JULIUS CAESAR
Though classic work, the dramatic onrush is irresistible - as a perceptive producer, Granville-Barker, emphasises, and as all audiences find. The play is short, swift and stream-lined, with little decoration; no sub-plot, hardly a comic touch or even a sentence that is bawdy (a rarity), but it is immensely exciting, even haunting, full of famous lines that go on and on in the mind and have entered into the consciousness of all who speak the tongue.
Date. The dramatist already had Julius Caesar in mind before finishing Henry V. In the Prologue to the last act of that he had described the city's expectation of a welcome to conquering Essex on his return from Ireland. Now, in the very first scene of Julius Caesar we find: Many a time and oft Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day with patient expectation To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome; "And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout . . . Windows and chimney-tops ... this is not ancient Rome, but the London mob giving Essex the send-off from which he returned so abortively. We see how quickly Shakespeare worked. In this same year the young Swiss tourist, Thomas Platter, reports 'after dinner on 21 September, about 2 o'clock, I went with my companions across the water, and in the straw-thatched house saw the tragedy of the first emperor, Julius Caesar, excellently performed by some fifteen persons.' The play has a much larger number of characters, so some parts were, as usual, doubled. It was followed by a jig, danced by two actors as men and two - in the ambivalent fashion of the Elizabethan stage - as women.
Reading. Much as Shakespeare had depended upon Hall and Holinshed for his English history, he had even more congenial reading for his classical plays in Sir Thomas North's translation of Plutarch. Plutarch's interest in character was as lively and perceptive as his own; moreover, where Holinshed was a rustic bourgeois, North was a cultivated aristocrat who wrote the language like a gentleman. Whole passages of fine prose could be rendered in "as fine, or finer, blank verse with the greatest of ease. (Much of Elizabethan prose communication goes readily into blank verse - as indeed is the case with the speeches of Abraham Lincoln, whose style was formed by the Bible and Shakespeare. )1 The quick reading man not only wrote with North's Plutarch open beside him, but we can tell that he was reading Sir John Davies' philosophic poem, Nosce Teipsum, and the congenial Daniel's 1Vlusophilus contemporaneously. At the assassination of Caesar, Cassius says, How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unborn and accents yet unknown! Shakespeare had been struck, as we all are, by the fine imaginative passage of Daniel:
I. As I found when putting his farewell speech to his Illinois neighbours in my blank-verse poem 'Abraham Lincoln at Springfield' in Poems Partly American.
1671
JULIUS CAESAR
Introduction And who in time knows whither we may vent The treasure of our tongue, to what strange shores This gain of our best glory shall be sent, To enrich unknowing nations with our stores? What worlds in the yet unfonned Occident May come refined with th'accents that are ours?
But, observe, where Daniel is reflective, Shakespeare instinctively turns the lines into theatre, 'our lofty scene ... acted over'.
The Tragedy of Brutus. The criticism that the play falls into two halves, with Caesar disappearing in the middle, is imperceptive, for the subject is described, in so many words, as 'the spirit of Caesar': his spirit dominates the whole play, as his assassination did the historical event. But it might alternatively be described as the tragedy of Brutus, who has a far larger part and whose character is much more fully delineated. It is recognised that the dramatist wrote Caesar down in the interests of dramatic balance, and wrote Brutus up, better than he deserved, to give him a chance - for, after all, he was an assassin. \Ve are assured that Brutus was an honest, indeed the one honourable, man in the conspiracy against Caesar: he was the only one moved by what he considered to be the public interest, as against the others, who were moved by envy or spleen or personal resentment. And, after all, Brutus had personal reason to be grateful to Caesar, who was attached to him. ('Villiam Shakespeare hated ingratitude, of all things.) He makes Caesar deaf, for which there is no evidence; he gives Cassius a long speech enumerating Caesar's weaknesses, even timorousness for which there was no \varrant, for he was a man of indomitable courage and resolution. He was also a supreme opportunist, who was very clear-eyed about the way things were going and ready to take advantage of them. He saw that antiquated republican institutions were breaking down, and personal rule was inevitable, to take their place. Like Bolingbroke, who had to take the crown for sheer self-preservation, apart from anything else, Caesar had to cross the Rubicon and march on Rome or his enemies would have destroyed him; then civil war would have broken out anyway. His assassination made this inevitable. Once more Shakespeare shows his regular concern for social order, and the horror of its breakdown. However, for the balance of his play, the dramatist holds the scales in favour of Brutus (historically, he was not such a noble character). Everybody looks up to him as sans peur et sans reproche; Caesar might never have been assassinated if Brutus had not lent himself to the conspiracy. Like such men who are generally admired for their nobility, he is morally self-complacent, even conceited, for ever congratulating himself on the purity of his motives: For I am anned so strong in honesty That they [threats]" pass by me as the idle wind Which I respect not. He is an idealist and, like all idealists, shows bad judgment throughout. After murdering Caesar he insists on sparing Mark Antony against the judgment of his fellow-assassins and he proceeded to turn the tables on them and destroy them. In the quarrel with Cassius before Philippi it is Brutus who shows himself unreasonable; and he urges on an immediate battle - against Cassius' more experienced judgment - in circumstances 1672
Introduction
JULIUS CAESAR
which brought disaster upon them. Indeed, the assassination of Caesar itself was a mistake, apart from the crime: it caused civil war, and did not save the republic, which was the only excuse for it. Brutus is an idealist, i.e. an idealogue: ~apoleon knew their worth in society and in great events - after all, he had been one himself '''''hen young and ignorant. But he learned; Brutus was one of those who never learn from experience. It cannot be supposed that William Shakespeare's sympathies were with such a type; but he does his best for him and writes him an epitaph, which people have taken literally, though placed in Antony's mouth:
Death of Julius Caesar. Xilleteenth cl!Ilfury engraving from a painting by
J. L. Ghame (I824-I904)
This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought And common good to all, made one of them. He assassinated in the cause of liberty and for the good of the people. \Ve are shown by the dramatist what that was worth; nor did Shakespeare bother much about consistency, any more than there is in life.
The People as a Character. We see all through Shakespeare's plays what his, and the Elizabethans', view of the people was; in this play and in Coriolanus they constitute a character in the action. The tribunes of the people, in the very first scene, haye nothing but contempt for them, for their ingratitude and changeability, basely transferring their worship of Pompey to his enemy, Caesar. (\Vhat else are poor people to do. but fall in with the winning side ?) Casca, one of the conspirators on behalf of liberty of the people, describes 1673
JULIUS CAESAR
Introduction
their servility to Caesar at the offer of the crown: 'the rabble hooted and clapped their chapped hands and threw- up their sweaty nightcaps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath ... that it had almost choked Caesar.' The detail of the 'nightcaps' reveals the contemporary scene, and indeed an Elizabethan crowd must have smelt horribly. After the assassination it is to the wisdom of the people that Brutus, so true to type, appeals: 'censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge.' If he has offended, 'if any, speak: for him I have offended. I pause for a replY.' The response of the rational people to this appeal to their reason is: Let him be Caesar! Caesar's better parts Shall be crowned in Brutus i.e. make Brutus king. He should have been shocked at such a response. Mark Antony is described by Cassius as 'a masker and a reveller'; but he knows what the people are, and has no difficulty in twisting them round his little finger, assuring them the while that Brutus and his fellow-assassins are 'honourable men'. He goes on assuring them, while gradually bringing home the enonnity of the crime and Caesar's good intentions towards them, his generosity and bequests to them in his will, so that in the end the appeal to their emotions makes them weep, and the irony of the insistence upon the honourable men who had done the deed drives them wild: All:
Revenge! About! Seek! Bum! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live ... I Plebeian: We'll burn his [Caesar's] body in the holy place, And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. 2 Plebeian: Go, fetch fire. 3 Plebeian: Pluck down benches. 4 Plebeian: Pluck down fonns, windows, anything. \Villiam Shakespeare knew his people, ordinary humanity, very well.
The Age. His own time thus reveals itself. The conspirators are depicted as all muffled up, just as we see them in Gunpowder Plot engravings a few years later. Cassius boasts, So often shall the knot of us be called The men that gave their country liberty 'knot' was the regular word for conspirators at the time. Caesar was quite right, by the way, in his judgment of Cassius' type: Such men as he be never at heart's ease While they behold a greater than themselves. The play is full of dreams and omens, and, though they are authenticated in the sources, they are so much in keeping with the beliefs of the time as to have added much to the dramatic effect. The appearance of Caesar's ghost to Brutus before Philippi not only keeps his spirit before us, but is thrilling in the theatre, and it reminds us of the ghosts that appeared to Richard III before Bosworth. The soothsayer - of whom Caesar, in his generous over-confidence, will take no notice - was frequently to be met with in
1674
Introduction
JULIUS CAESAR
Elizabethan life: everybody believed in omens, dreams, and foretellings. We catch another of Shakespeare's regular references to his profession, that appear in every play; at the offer of the crown to Caesar: 'if the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use [i.e. are accustomed] to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man.' A few personal reflections reveal the man behind the dramatist: But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered. And what are we to think of the sadness in: When love begins to sicken and decay, It useth an enforced ceremony.
Text. No problems. E. K. Chambers describes it as 'one of the best printed of the Folio additions' - since there are no quartos; 'a few abrupt short lines may be evidence of cuts.' Ben Jonson made fun of a couple of passages: Shakespeare, writing hurriedly as usual, had made Caesar say, 'Caesar never did wrong but with just cause', which Ben considered 'ridiculous'. He must have told Shakespeare as much, for in the Folio text it is rectified to Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied. Ben made fun, too, of another passage:
o judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Immediately after, in Every lJ.,1an out oj his Humour, Jonson takes this up: Reason long since is fled to animals, you know. These are but amusing exchanges between fellows writing for the same Company; it is heavy-footed to speak of Ben's twitting the Master, to whom he was indebted for his introduction to the Company, as showing 'animosity' (Dover-Wilson). Such exchanges alerted performers and audience, and provided fun.
1675
JULIUS CLESAR. DR~1\{ATIS
JULIUS ClESAR. OCTAVIUS CAl:SAR, } triumvirs after the MARCUS ANTONIUS, death of Julius M. lEMILlUS LEI'InUS, Ca!sar. CICERO, ~ PUBLlUS, senators. POPILIUS LENA, MARCUS BRUTUS, I CASSIUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, conspirators against LIGAIUUS, 1 Julius Ca!sar. DECIUS BRUTUS, l\1ETELLUS CaiBER, CINNA, FLAVIUS and l\lARuLLus, tribunes. ARTI;;MIDORUS of Cnidos, a teacher of Rhetoric. A Soothsayer. CINNA, a poet. Another Poet.
l
J
ACT 1. ScENE 1.
Rome. A street.
PERSONlE. LUCILIL'S, ~ . MESSA. LA fner;ds .to Brutus and Young C~ TO, CaSSIUS.
TlTnuus,
~ ~~~~~IUS, })
CLITUS, CLAUDIUS, STRATO, servants to Brutus. LUCIUS, DARDANIUS, PINDARUS, servant to CassiuS".
CAI.PURNIA, wife to Ca!sar. PORTIA, wife to Brutus. Senators, Citizens, Guards, Attendants, &c. SCENE: Rome: the 1uigkbourkood 0/ Sardis: th.e H.eighbottrkfi(}(/ of Philippi.
• A bullet beside a textline indicates an wmotatian in the opposite column
Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, a1ld certain Commoners. Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home: Is this a holiday? what! know you not, • Being mechanical, you ought not walk Uron a labouring day without the ~ign o your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? First Com. \Vhy, sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? \Vhat dost thou with thy best apparel on? You, sir, what trade are you? Sec:. Com. Truly, sir, in respeCt of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. II Mar. But what trade art thou? answer me direCtly. Sec. Com. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? Sec. Com. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! 21 Sec:. Com. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? Sec:. Com. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men
Dramatis Personae. tTiwnvi7S. A commission of three rulers of the state of Rome. 3 mechanical. A working man. Opposite: Brutus with the ghost of Caesar. Engraving by Henry Fuseli (1741-1825)
16n
JULIUS CAESAR
Act I Scene I
", ",1~""'::;', "y",
;~j:'
".,Ii. ~~': .' Second Commoner: ' ... we make holiday, to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph.' Painting 'The Triumph of Caesar' by Andrea Nlantegna (c. 1430; I - I 506)
38 tributaries. Captives. 4Z--49 Man}' a time ... shaut. See introduction.
Triumph of Pompey. Engraving from P. Traiti des Pierres Gra·vees, 1769
51 replication. Echo. 54 cull. Choose.
1678
J. Mariette's
as ever trod upon neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. 30 Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop today? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? Sec. Co",. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Ca::sar and to rejoice in his triumph. 4:Jiar. Wherefore rejoice? Wnat conquest brings he home? • 'Vhat tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! 40 o you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, • Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, SO .To hear the replication of your sounds Made in her concave shores? And do you now put on your best attire? .And do you now cull out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! RWI to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude. 60 Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, Assemble all the poor men of YO!.lr sort;
Act I Scene II Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted !.hores of all. [Exeunt all the COHtHt01lers. See, whether their basest metal be not moved; They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. Go you down that way towards the Capitol; This way will I: disrobe the images, .If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. 70 11-far. May we do so? • You know it is the feast of Lupercal. Fla'lJ. It is no matter; let no images Be hung with Cresar's trophies. I'll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets: So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These .growing feathers pluck'd from Ca::sar's wmg Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, Who else would soar above the view of men 79 And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [EXeu11t. SCE;s'E
II.
JULIUS CAESAR
70 ceremonies. Offerings.
72 feast of Lupercal. 15th February. 18 ides. 15th day of the month in :\1arch, May, July, October (but the 13th day in the other months).
A public place.
Flourish. course;
Enter CJESAR; ANTONY, for the CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, a1u/ CASCA; a great crowd
follOWlitg, among them a Soothsayer. Cas. Calpurnia! Casca. Peace, ho! Cresar speaks. Cas. Calpurnia! Cal. Here, my lord. Cas. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, \Vhen he doth run his course. Antonius! Ant. Cresar, my lord? Cas. Forgetnot, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their sterile curse. Allt. I shall remember: \Vhen Ccesar says 'do this,' it is perform'a. 10 Cas. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [Flolerisk. Sootk. Cresar! Cas. Ha! who calls? Casca. Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! Cas. \Vho is it in the press that calls on me? I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music. Cry 'Cresar!' Speak; Cesar is turll'd to hear. • Sooth. Beware the ides oi l\larch. Cas. What man is that? Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. 19 Cas. Set him before me; let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Cresar. Cas. What s.ay'st thou to me now? speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cas. He is a dreamer; Ict us leave him: pass. [Sennet. Exeunt all except Brutus a11d Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not I. Cas. I pray you, do. Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder. Cassius, your desires; 30
LE ;
VS·LEAVE·J-IIM ~r~ Caesar replies to the Soothsayer. Illustration by Byam Shaw, The Chimick Shakespeare, 190'0' SD [Sennet]. Flourish of trumpets.
1679
JULIUS CAESAR
Act I Scene II
42 soil. Taint. 71 jealous on. Suspicious of.
78 the Tout. The common herd. 91 favour. Appearance.
Cassius: 'I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour'. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1146
1680
I 'Illeave you. Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness And show of love as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you. Bru. Cassius, Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Merely upon myself. Vexed I am Of late with passions of some difference, 40 Conceptions only proper to myself, • Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviours; But let not therefore my good friends be grievedAmong which number, Cassius, be you oneN or construe any further my neglect, Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows oflove to other men. Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your . passion; By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. 50 Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? Bne. No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things. Cas. 'Tis just: And it is very much lamented. Brutus, That you have no such mirrors as win turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Where many of the best respeCt in Rome, Except immortal Cresar, speaking of Brutus 60 And groaning underneath this age's yoke, Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. Eru. I nto what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me? Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: And since vou know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. 70 .And he not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new protester; if you know That I do fawn on men and hug them hard And after scandal them, or if you know That I profess myself in banqueting .To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. [Flourish, and shout. Bnl. What means this shouting? I do fear, the people Choose Ccesar for their king. Cas. Ay, do you fear it? 80 Then must I think you would not have it so. Ent. I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. But wherefore do you hold me here so long? What is it that you would impart to me? If it be aught toward the gene'ral good, Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently; For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honour more than I fear death. 89 Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, • As well as I do know your outward favour.
Act I Scene II Well, honour is the subjeCt of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think. of this life; but, for my single self, • I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of sUch a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cresar; so were you: We both have fed as well, and we can both Endure the winter's cold as well as he : For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 100 The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Cresar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to ,.onder point?' Upon the word, .Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow; so indeed he did. The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside .And stemming it with hearts of controversy; But ere we could arrive the :point proposed, 110 Ccesar cried' Help me, CasSlUS, or I sink!' .1, as iEneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber Did I the tired Cresar. And this man Is now become a god, and Cassius is A wretched creature and must bend his body, If Cresar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark 120 How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried' Give me some drink, Titinius,' As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should .So get the start of the majestic world :1:30 And bear the palm alone. [Skout. Flourish. Bru. Another general shout! I do believe that these applauses are For some new honours that are heap'd on Cresar. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his hu~e legs and peep about To find ourselves dlshonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 140 But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus and Cresar: what should be in that 'Cresar'? Why should that name be sounded more than yours? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cresar. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Cresar feed, I49 That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! When went there by an age, since the gre.at flood, But it was famed with more than with one man? When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, That her wide walls encompass'd but one man 1 N ow is it Rome indeed and room enough,
JULIUS CAESAR
95 lief. Soon. 105 Accoutred. Dressed up . 109 stemming. Overcoming. controversy. Determination. 112-14 Aeneas . .. Anchises. From Virgil's Aeneid. 130 get the start of. Take first place.
1681
JULIUS CAESAR
Act I Scene II
159 brooh'd. Allowed.
\Vhen there is in it but one only man.
0, you and I have heard our fathers say, 162 1 am nothing jealollS. I do not doubt.
163 aim. ::\'otion. 184 chidden. Rebuked.
/
.I
.There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 160 As easily as a king. • Bru. That you do love me, I amnothingjealous; .\Vhat you would work me to, I have some aim: How I have thought of this and of these times, I shall recount hereafter; for this present, I would not, so with love I might entreat you, Be any further moved. What you have said I will consider; what you have to say I will with patience hear, and find a time 16g Both meet to hear and answer such high things. Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this; Brutus had rather be a villager Than to repute himself a son of Rome Under these hard conditions as this time Is like to lay upon us. Cas. I am glad that my weak. words Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. Bru. The games are done and Ccesar is returning. Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you ISO What hath proceeded worthy note to-day.
Re-enter
and his Train. But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Ca:sar's brow, .And all the rest look like a chidden train : Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being cross'd in conference by some senators. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Ca:s. Antonius! 190 Ant. Cresar? Cas. Let me have men about me that are fat: Sleek-headed men and such as sleep 0 'nights: Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.. A nt. Fear him not, Ccesar; he's not dangerous; .He is a noble Roman and well given. Cas. Would he were fatter! But J fear him not: Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid 200 So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; He is a great observer and he looks Quite through the deeds of men; he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous. 210 I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd Than what I fear; for always I am Ccesar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. [Sen1u-t. Exeunt Casar and all his Train, but Casca. Casca. You puIl'dme by the cloak; would you speak with me? Bru. Ay, Casca; tdl us what hath chanced to-day, C..£SAR
Bru. I will do so.
I
/
Caesar: 'Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look'. (John Gielgud) with Bnltus (James :\Iason). film directed by J. L. :\1ankiewicz, USA, 1953 Cus~iu~
197 gi·t:en. Disposed.
1682
Act I Scene II That Cresar looks so sad. CaJca. 'Vhy, you were with him, were you not? Bru. I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. 219 Casca. \Vhy, there was a crown offered him: and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell ashouting. Bnt. 'Vhat was the second noise for? Casca. 'Vhy, for that too. Cas. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? Casca. Why, for that too. Bru. Was the crown offered him thrice? Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other, and at every putting-by mine honest neighbours shouted. Cas. \Vho offered him the crown? Casca. 'Vhy, Alltony. Bnt. Tell the maimer of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can :15 well be hanged as tell the manner of it: it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw l\lark Antony offer him a crown ;-yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these coronets;-and, as I told you, he put it by once: but, .for all that, to my thinking, he would fain haye had it. Then he offered it to him again; then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by: and still as he refu;<e'{ it, the rabblement hooted and .clapped their chopped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because Ca:sar refused the crown .that it had almost choked Cresar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I curst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air. Cas. But, soft, I pray you: what, did Cresar swound? Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless. • Bru. 'Tis very like: he hath the faUingSlckness. Cas. No, Ca:sar hath it not; but you and I And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; • but, I am sure, Cresar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I -am no true man. Bru. What said he when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his throat to cut. An I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried ' Alas, good soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's 110 heed to be taken of them; if Ca:sar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no le!'.s. Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away? Casca. Ay. 280 Cas. Did Cicero say any thing? Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek.
JULIUS CAESAR
us
Costume design for Brutus by John Bury, Royal
Shakespeare Co, I963
240 jail!. Gladly. 246 chopped. Chapped. 249 sU'OItllded. Fainted . 256 failing s,:cklless. Epilepsy. 26G-263 If the tag-Tag. _. tme mall. See introduction.
1683
JULIUS CAESAR
Act I Scene III
317 bear me hard. i.e. can scarcely bear me.
/
'
Casca: 'Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm?' Engraving of Casca and Cicero by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of Shakspere. 1846
6 Tilled. Split.
Cas. '1'0 what effeCt? Casca. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i' the face again: but those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: l\Iarullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Czsar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it. 291: Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Casca. No, I am promised forth. Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow? Casca. Ay, jf I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner worth the eating. Cas. Good: I will expeCl you. Casca. Do so. Farewell, both. [Exit. Brit. 'Vhat a bhmt fellow is this grown to be! He was quick mettle when he went to school. 300 Cas. So is he now in execution Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite. Bru. Andsoitis. For this time I will leave you: To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you; or, if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you. 310 Cas. I will do so: till then, thin'k: of the world. [Exit Brutus. Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes; For who so firm that cannot be seduced? .Cesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, He should not humour me. I will this night, In several hands, in at his windows throw, 320 As if they came from several citizens, 'Vritings all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely Ca:sar's ambition shall he glanced at: And after this let Cresar seat him sure: For we will shake him, or worse days endure. [Exit. SCENE
III.
The same.
A street.
Thunder and lightning. E tIter, from ojjHJsite sides, CASCA, with !tis sworddrawll, and CICERO. Cic. Good even, Casca: brought you Cresar home? Why are you brea.thless? and why stare you so? Casca. Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth Shakes like a thing unfirm? 0 Cicero, I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds .Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threatening clouds: But never till to-night, never till now, Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 10 Either there is a civil strife in heaven, Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, Incenses them to send destruClion. Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful! Casca. A common slave-you know him well by sight-
1684
Act I Scene III Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. Besides-I ha' not since put up my swordAgainst the Capitol I met a liori, 20 Who glared upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me: and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. • And yesterday the bird of night did sit Even at noon-day upon the market-place, Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say 'These are their reasons; they are natural;' 30 For. I believe, they are portentous things .Unto the climate that they point upon. Cic. lndeed, it is a strange-disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. Comes Ccesar to the Capitol to-morrow? Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you he would he there to-morrow. Cic. Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky I s not to walk in. Casca. Farewell, Cicero. [Exit Cicero. 40
JULIUS CAESAR
26 the bird of night. i.e. owl. 32 climate. Situation.
65 calculate. Prophesy. 66 ordinance. Xormal pattern.
Enter CASSIUS. Cas. Who's there? Casca. A Roman. Cas. Casca, by your voice. Casca. Vour ear is good. Cassius, what night is this!
Cas. A very pleasing night to honest men. Casca. 'Vho ever knew the heavens menace so? Cas. Those that have known the earth so full of faults. For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, Submitting me unto the perilous night, And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; And when the cross blue lightning scem'd to open The breast of heaven, I did present myself 5I Even in the aim and very flash of it. Casca. But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? It is the part of men to fear and tremble, 'Vhen the most mighty gods by tokens send Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. Cas. Vou are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life That should be in a Roman you do want, Or else you use not. V ou look pale and gaze And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, 60 To see the strange impatience of the heavens: But if you would consider the true cause Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, .'Vhy old men fool and children calculate, .Why all these things change from their ordinance Their natures and preformed faculties To monstrous quality,-why, you shall find That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, To make them instruments of fear and warning 70 Unto some monstrous state. Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man Most like this dreadful night,
1685
JULIUS CAESAR
Act I Scene III
77 prodigious. Portentous. 81 thews. Sinews.
117 fleering. Sneering. 118 factious. Active.
129 fm:our. Appearance.
That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars As doth the hon in the Capitol, A man no mightier than thyself or me • In personal action, yet prodigiuus grown And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. Casca. 'Tis Ccesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? Cas. Let it be who it is: for Romans now 80 • Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. Casca: Indeed, they say the senators to-morrow Mean to establish Ccesar as a king; And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, In every place, save here in Italy. Cas. I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: 90 Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, N ever lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, That part of tyranny that I do bear I can shake off at pleasure. (Thunder still. Casca. So can I: lOO So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity. Cas. And why should Ccesar be a tyrant then? Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. Those that with haste will make a mighty fire Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, \Vhat rubbish and what offal, when it serves For the base matter to illuminate lIO So vile a thing as Cresar! But, 0 grief, Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this Before a willing bondman; then I know My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, And dangers are to me indifferent. Casca. You speak toCasca, and to such a man • That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: .Be factious for redress of all these griefs, And I will set this foot of mine as far As who goes farthest. Cas. There's a bargain made. 120 N ow know you, Casca, I have moved already Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans To undergo with me an enterprise Of honourable-dangerous consequence; And I do know, by this, they stay for me In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, There is no stir or walking in the streets; And the complexion of the element • In favour's like the work we have in hand, Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. 130 Casca. Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. Cas. 'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gail. He is a friend.
Enter CINNA. Cinna, where haste you so l'
1686
Act II Scene I Cill. To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? • Cas. No, it is Casca; one incorporate To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? Cin. I am glad on't. What a fearful night is this! There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. Cas. Am I not stay'd for? tell me. Cut. Yes, you are. Cas.c;ius, if you could 140 But win the noble Brutus to our partyCas. Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, . . , h' .And look you lay It m the prretor s c aIr, Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this In at his window; set this up with wax 1]pon old Brutus' statue: all this done, Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? Cin. All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone .To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, 150 And so bestow these papers as you bade me. Cas. That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. [Exit Ciulla. Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day See Brutus at his house: three parts of him Is ours already, and the man entire Upon the next encounter yields him ours. Casea. 0, he sits high in all the people's hearts: And that which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchemy, Will change to virtue and to worthiness. 160 Cas. Him and his worth and our great need of him • You have right well conceited. Let us go, For it is after midnight; and ere day \Vewill awake him and be sure of him. [Exrnmt.
JULIUS CAESAR
135-136 mcorporate To. Involved in. 143 praetor's. Magistrate's.
150 hie. Hasten. 162 c()11ceited. Judged.
°
ACT II. ScENE
I.
Rome.
Brutus's orcltard.
Eltter BRUTUS. Bru. 'Vhat, Lucius, ho! I cannot, by the progress of the stars, Give gue5s how near to day. Lucius, I say! I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius!
E1zter LUCIUS. Lue. Call'd you, my lord? Bru.. Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: When it is lighted, come and call me here. Lue. I will, my lord. [Exit. Bru.. It must be by his death: and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, I I .But for the general. He would be crown'd: How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; .And that craves wary walking. Crown him?that;And then. I grant, we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with. The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins
Brutus: 'It must be by his death'. Thomas Sheridan as Brutus. Engraving from Bell's edition of ShaRespeare, 1778
12 general. Commonweal.
15 craves. Requires.
1687
JULIUS CAESAR
Act II Scene I Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Cresar, [ have not known when his affections sway'd 20 • :\1ore than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, \Vhereto the climber-upward turns his face; • But when he once attain" the upmo"t round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, • Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees Ry which he did ascend. So Cresar may. Then, lest he may, prevellC. And, since tne quarrel • \Vill bear no colour for the thing he is, • Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented: ~o \Vould nm to these and these extremities: _\nd therefore think him as a serpenfs egg \V hich , hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, And kill him in the shell.
Basil Gill as Brutus, St James's Theatre, London, --------------------21 proof. Experience_ 24
TOltlld.
1920
-----
Rung.
26 base degrees. Lower steps_ 29 bear nn co/nuT. :'\ot excuse_
30 Fashioll_ Put_
54 Torqui/l. Last king of Rome, and father of the Tarquin (Sextus) who raped Lucrece_ This ennt resulted in the expulsion of the Tarquins and the overthrow of the monarchy, a movement led by Brutus's ancestor, Lucius Junius Brutus. 66
1OOT/a/ ins/J·lImmts.
The powers of the body_
R c-ellter LT:CIUS. Lltc. The taper burneth in your closet, sir. Searching the window for a flint, I found This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, It did not lie there when I went to bed. [Ch.C's /,im tke leiter Bru. Get you to bed again; it is n(;~ day. Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of )larch? 40 L IIC. I know not, sir. Brit. Look in the calendar, and bring me word. Luc. 1 will, sir. [Exit. Bne. The exhalations whizzing in the air Give so much light that I may read by them. [Ojells tlu: letlt:r ami reads. 'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. Shall Rome, &c. Speak, strike, redress! Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' Such instigations have been often dropp'd \Vhere I have took them up. 50 'Shall Rome, &c.' Thus must I piece it out: Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? \Vhat, Rome? )1y ancestors did from the streets of Rome .The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. 'Speak, strike, reJress!' Am I entreated To speak and strike? 0 Rome, I make thee promise; If the redress will follow, thou receivest Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! Re-ellter Lt;cIT:s. Sir, :\Iarch is wasted fourteen days. [Knocking withilt. Brn. 'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. (Exit Lucius. 60 Since Cassius first did whet me against Cresar, I ha,-e not slept. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: • The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurreCtion.
Luc.
Re-eltter Leclus. Luc. Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, \Vho doth desire to see you. Brll. Is he alonei 71
16&8
Act II Scene I e
Luc. Brit.
No, sir, there are moe with him. Do you know them? e LttC. No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their e.ars, And half their faces buried in their cloaks, That by no means I may discover them eBy any mark of favour. Bne. Let 'em enter. [Exit Lucius. They are the faCtion. conspiracy, Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free? 0, then by day Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enoilgh 80 To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; Hide it in smiles and affability: eFor if thou path, thy native semblance on, eNot Erebus itself were dim enough eTo hide thee from prevention.
°
Enter/he cOilspiraturs, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECI{;S, CINNA, METELL{;S CIIIIBER, a'ld TREBONIL'S. Cas. I think we are too bold upon your rest : Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? Bne. I have been up this hOllr, awake all night. Know I these men that come along with you? Cas. Yes, every man of them, and no man here fF But honours you; and everyone doth wish You had but that opinion of yourself Which every noble Roman bears of you. This is Trebonius. Bne. He is welcome hither. Cas. This, Decius Brutus. Bne. He is welcome too. Cas. This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. Bro. They are all welcome. What watchful cares do interpose themselves Betwixt your eyes and night? Cas. Shall I entreat a word? 100 [Brutus and Cassius whisper. Dec. Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? Casca. No. Cin. 0, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines That fret the clouds are messengers of day. Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceived. Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, Which is a great way growing on the south, Weighing the youthful season of the year. Some two months hence up higher toward the north He first presents his fire, and the high east 110 St;:t.nds, as the Capitol, directly here. Br~. Give me your hands all over, one by one. Cas. And let Uf; swear our resolution. Bru. No, not an oath: if not the face of men, The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,If these be motives weak, break off betimes, And every man hence to his idle bed; So let high-sighted tyranny range on, Till each man drop 'by lottery. But if these, As I am sure they do, bear fire enough 120 To kindle cowards and to steel with valour The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen,
72
m~.
JULIUS CAESAR
More.
73 pluck'd. Pulled down. 76 mark of favour. External feature.
83 path. Go about. t/ry.· natit't' semblance on. Showing yourself as you are. 84 Erebus. Mythical dark area beneath the earth on the
way to hell.
85 prevention. Detection.
Brutus: 'Know I these men that come along with you?' Engraving of Brutus with the conspirators by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's WOTks of Shakspere, I!46
1689
JULIUS CAESAR
Act II Scene I
Cassius and Brutus with the conspirators. Illustration by Byam Shaw. The ChiS'lcick Shakespeare. I900
126 palter. Shuffle. 129 cautelous. Crafty.
133 e'un. Solid.
138 several bastardy. Particular baseness.
1690
'Vhat need we any spur but our own calise, To prick liS to redress? what other bond Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word. .And will not palter? and what other oath Than honesty to honesty engaged, Th..,lt this shall be, or we will fall for it? .Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls 130 That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain .The even virtue of Ollr enterprise, Nor the insupprcssive mettle of our spirits, To think that or our cause or ollr performance Did nced an oath; when every drop of blood That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, .Is guilty of a several bastardy, If he do break the smallest particle Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. 140 Cas. But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? I think he will stand very strong with liS. Casca. Let us not leave him ant. Cillo No, by no means. 1~:Iet. 0, let us have him., for his silver hairs 'ViII purchase us. a good opinion And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: I t shall be said, his judgement ruled our hands; Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, But all be buried in his gravity. Bru. 0, name him not: let us not break with him; ISO For he will never follow any thing That other men begin. Cas. Then leave him out. Casca. Indeed he is not fit. Dec. Shall no man else be touch'd but only Ccesar? Cas. Decius, 'well urged: I think it is not meet, Mark Antony, so well beloved of Ccesar, Should outlive Cresar: we shall find of him A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, If he improve them, may well stretch so far As to annoy us all: which to prevent, 160 Let Antony and Cresar fall together. Brll. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To out the head off and then hack the limbs, Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; }1'or Antony i~ but a limb of Cresar : . Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. We all stand up against the spirit of Cresar; And in the spirit of men there is no blood : 0, that we then could come by Ccesar's spirit, And not dismember C;esar! But, alas, 170 Cresar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, N at hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, Stir up their servants to an aCt of rage, And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make Our purpose necessary and not envious: Which so appearing to the common eyes, We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. ISo And for Mark Antony, think not of him; For he can do no more than Cresar's arm When Ccesar's head is off'. Cas. Yet I fear him; For in the ingrafted love he bears to Cresar-
Act II Scene I Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: If he love Cresar, all that he can do Is to himself, take thought and die for Cesar: And that were much he should; for he is given To sports, to wildness and much company. Treb. There is no fear in him: let him not die; For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. I9I [Clock strikes. Brtt. Peace! count the clock. Cas. The clock hath stricken three. Treb. 'Tis time to part. Cas. But it is doubtful yet, Whether Cresar will come forth to-day, or no ; For he is superstitious grown of late, Quite from the main opinion he held once Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: It may be, these apparent prodigies, The unaccustom'd terror of this night, And the persuasion of his augurers, 200 May hold him from the Capitol to-day. Dec. Never fear that: if he be so resolved, I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, • Lions with toils and men with flatterers; .But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered. Let me work; .For I can give his humour the true bent, 210 And I will bring him to the Capitol. Cas. Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch hirn. Bru. By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? Cin. Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. Met. Caius Ligarius doth bear Ca::sar hard, Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: I wonder none of you have thought of him. Bru. Now, good Metellus, go along by him: He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. 220 Cas. The morning comes upon's: we'll leave you, Brutus. And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. Bru. Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily: Let not our looks put on our purposes, But bear it as our Roman aCtors do, With untired. spirits and formal constancy: And so good morrow to you every one. [Exeunt all but Brutus. Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: 230 .Thou hast no figures nor no f~\lltasi.es, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st 500 sound.
JULIUS CAESAR
206 toils. Snares. 201-208 But when ... flattered. See introduction. 210 1 can give his humour the trite bent. i.e. I can make him incline his mind.
231 figUTes nor no fantasies. Dreams and imaginings.
Portia: 'You've un gently, Brutus, Stole from my bed:' Alec Clunes as Brutus and Joan Miller as Portia, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1957
E,zter PORTIA. Por. Brutus, my lord ! Bru. Portia, what mean you 1 wherefore rise you now? It is not for your health thus to commit Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. Por. Nor for yours neither. You'veungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper. You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
1691
JULIUS CAESAR
Act II Scene I
246 wafture. Waving. 253 shape. Appearance. 254 condition. Mind. 259 come by it. Recover.
261 physical. Healthy. 271 charm. Entreat.
Brutus: 'Kneel not, gentle Portia.' Drawing of Portia and Brutus by ]. M. Wright (1777-1866) 295 Cato. A famous Roman statesman, much honoured for uprightness.
1692
Musing and sighing, with your arms across, 240 And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You stared upon me with ungentle looks; I urged JOou further; then you scratch'd your hea , And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, • But, with an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; Fearing to strengthen that impatience \Vhich seem'd too much enkindled, and withal H oping it was but an effed of humour, 250 'Vhich sometime hath his hour with every mau. It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, .And could it work so much upon your shape .A,:; it hath much prevail'd on your condition, I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, ~Iake me acquainted with your cause of grief. Bne. I am not well in health, and that is all. Por. Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, .He would emhrace the means to come by it. Bro. 'Vhy, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. • Por. Is Brutus sick? and is it physical 261 To walk unbraced and suck up the humours Of the dank morning? 'Vhat, is Brutus sick, And 'will he steal out of his wholesome bed, To dare the vile contagion of the night And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; You have some sick offence within your mind, \Vhich, by the right and virtue of my place, 270 I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, .1 charm you, by my once-commended beauty, By all your vows of love and that great vow \Vhich did incorporate and make us one, That you unfold to me, your:;elf, your half, 'Vhy you are heavy, and what men to-night Have had resort to you: for here have been Some six or seven, who did hide their faces Even from darkness. Bnt. Kneel not, gentle Portia. Por. I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. \Vithin the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, 280 Is it excepted I should know no secrets That appertain to you? Am I yourself But, as it were, in sort or limit..1.tion, To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. Brit. You are my true and honourable wife, As dear to me as are the ruddy drops That visit my sad heart. 290 Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret. I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: I grant I am a woman; but withal .A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy. Giving myself a voluntary wound 300 Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience, And not my husband's secrets?
Act II Scene II
Bne. 0. ye gods., Render me worthy of this noble wife! [Knockhtg within. Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; And by and by thy bosom shall partake The secrets of my heart. .All my engagements I will construe to thee, .All the charactery of my sad brows: Leave me with haste. [Exit Portia.] Lucius, who's that knocks?
JULIUS CAESAR
307 construe. Explain. 308 charactery. Expression.
313 Vouchsafe. Accept.
Re-e1zter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS. Luc. Here is a sick man that would speak with you. 3IO Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! b..ow? • Lig. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. Bne. 0, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, To wear a kerchief! \Vould you were not sick! Lig. I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand Any exploit worthy the name of honour. Bru. Such an exploit have I in hand; Ligarius, Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. Lig. By all the gods that Romans bow before, I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! 321 Brave son, derived from honourable loins! Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, And I will strive with things impossible; Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? lJru. A piece of work that will make sick men whole. Lig. But are not some whole that we must make sick? Ene. That must we also. \Vhat it is, my Caius, 330 I shall unfold to thee, as we are going To whom it must be done. Lig. Set on your foot, And with a heart new-fired I follow you, To do I know not what: but it sufficeth That Brutus leads me on. Eru. Follow me, then. [Exnmt. SCE:m II.
Ctesar's house.
Thtmder and lig-lt.tni1Jg. his
R'H
l\.VE· BEEN:t\T'PEACEtlONIGtQ
Ellter
C,-ESAR,
m
lIight-gO'l~m.
Caesar in his nightgown. Illustration by Byam Shaw, The Chis'U.'ick Shakespeare, 1900
Ctes. Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, e Help, ho! they murder Ccesar!' 'Vho's within?
E,zter a Servant. My lord? Ctes. Go bid the priests do present sacrifice And bring me their opinions of success. Servo I will, my lord. [Exit. Sff'lJ.
Enter CALPUR!'JIA. Cal. What mean you, Ccesar? think you to walk forth? You shall not stir out of your house to-day. Ca:s. Cresar shall forth: the thinir-i that threaten'd me 10 Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see The face of Cresar, they are vanished.
1693
JULIUS CAESAR
Act II Scene II
13 stood on ceremonies. Attached importance to omens. 25 use. Normality.
,
j . . . . . .. -,.--_._- .......__i!
.,.....
J
'f :~-::~,(.J" ,...• '::
'l .", "'"
"
~-
..
"
~"-,~ ..
'·'.:.L
L ,:V~
t,. . . .:r/; ,:.,;'
:. . ;,"..,.~ t
" " , ' .:.
.;/ .,t.,J.{" ..
.:....
..
Caesar with Calpumia. Drawing by (17 63-184 0 )
J. H. Ramberg
49 consumed in confidence. I.e. blinded by oYer-confidence.
56 humour. Whim.
Cal. Cresar, I never stood on ceremonies, Yet now they fright me. There is one within, Besides the things that we have heard and seen, Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. A lioness hath whelped in the streets; And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, 20 Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; The noise of battle hurtled in the air, Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets . • 0 Cresar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. C(es. What can be avoided Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? Yet Cresar shall go forth; for these predittions Are to the world in general as to Cresar. Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; 30 The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. Ca~s. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, I t seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
•
Re-enter Servant. What say the augurers ? Servo They would not have you to stir forth to-day. Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, They could not find a heart within the beast. 40 C(eS. The gods do this in shame of cowardice: Cresar should be a beast without a heart, If he should stay at home to-day for fear. No, Cresar shall not: danger knows full well That Cresar is more dangerous than he: We are two lions litter'd in one day, And I the elder and more terrible: And Cresar shall go forth. Cal. Alas, my lord, • Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear 50 That keeps you in the house, and not your own. We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house; And he shall say you are not well to-day: Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. C(eS. Mark Antony shall say I am not well; .And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. E1tter DECIlTs. Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. Dec. Cresar, all hail I good morrow, worthy Cresar: I come to fetch you to the senate-house. C(1!S. And you are come in very happy time, 60 To bear my greeting to the senators And tell them that I will not come to-day: Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. Cal. Say he is sick. C(1!s. Shall Cresar send a lie? Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far,
1694
Act II Scene II To be afeard to tell graybeards the truth? Decius, go tell them Ccesar will not come. Dec. Most mighty Cresar, let me know some cause, Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. 70 Cms. The cause is in my will: J will not come; That is enough to satisfy the senate. But for your private satisfaction, Because I love you, I will let you know: Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: .She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, 80 And evils imminent; and on her knee Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted ; I t was a vision fair and fortunate: Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, III which so many smiling Romans bathed, Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck Reviving blood, and that great men shall press For tinttures, stains, relics and cognizance. This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. go C(I'S. And this way have you well expounded it. Dec. I have, when you have heard what I can say: And know it now: the senate have concluded To give this day a crown to mighty C<esar. If you shall send them word you will not come, .Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock Apt to be render'd, for some one to say , Break up the senate till another time, \\llen Cresar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' If Cresar hide himself, shall they not whisper 100 'Lo, Cresar is afraid'? Pardon me, Cresar; for my dear dear love • To your proceeding bids me tell you this; And reason to my love is liable. Cms. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! I am ashamed I did yield to them. Give me my robe, for I will go.
JeLIVS CAESAR
76 stott/a. Statue. 96 mock. Taunt.
103 To your proceeding. For your future.
"'endy Hiller as CaJpurnia, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1955
Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTTJS, LIGARIVS, l\IETELLus, CASCA,
TREBoNIUs, alld
CINNA.
And look where Publius is come to fetch me. Pub. Good morrow, Cresar. Ca!S. Welcome, Publius. \Vhat, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? lIO Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, Cresar was ne'er so much your enemy As that same ague which hath made you lean. \Vhat is 't o'clock? Bru. Cresar, 'tis struckel1 eight. Ca!S. I thank you for your pains and courtesy.
Euler ANTONY. See! Antony, that revels long 0' nights, Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. A Itt. So to most noble Cresar. Ca!S. Bid them prepare within:
1695
JULIUS CAESAR
Act II Scenes III & IV J am to blame to be thus waited for. Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius ! I have an hour's talk in store for you; Remember that you call on me to-day: Be near me, that I may remember you. Treb. Cresar, I will: [Aside] and so near will I be, That your best friends shall wish I had been further. Ctl!s. Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; And we, like friends, will straightway go together. Bne. [Aside] That every like is not the same, o Cresar, The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! [Exe7mt. SCENE
II I.
A street near the Capitol.
Ellter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper.
Julius Caesar. Engraving from a Roman medal in G. du Choul's DisCOUTS de la Religion des Anciens Romains, I567 14 Out of the teeth of emulation. i.e. beyond the reach of
envy. 18 rumouy. Noise.
Art. 'Cresar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna; trust not Trebonius; mark well MeteUus Cimber: Decius Brutus loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. There is but one mind in all these men, and it is bent against Cresar. If thou beest not immortal, look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, , ARTEMIDORUS.'
Here will I stand till Cresar pass along, II And as a suitor will I give him this. l\ly heart laments that virtue cannot live .Out of the teeth of emulation. If thou read this, 0 Cresar, thou mayst live; If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. [Exit. SCENE
IV. A1lother part of the same street, before the hOltse of Brtttus. Enter PORTIA alIa' LUCIUS.
Por. I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house ; Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: Why dost thou stay? Luc. To know my errand, madam. Por. I would have had thee there, and here again, Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. o constancy, be strong upon my side, Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. How hard it is for women to keep counsel! Art thou here yet? Luc. Madam, what should I do? 10 Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? And so return to you, and nothing else? For. Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, For he went sickly forth: and take good note What Cresar doth, what suitors press to him. Hark, boy! what noise is that? Luc. I hear none, madam. Por. Prithee, listen well ; .1 heard a bustling romour, like a fray, And the wind brings it from the Capitol. LlIc. Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. 20
1696
Act III Scene I
Enter tlu Soothsayer. Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? SlJOth. At mine own house, good lady. Por. What is't o'clock? Sooth. About the ninth hour, lady. Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? Sootlt. Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, To see him pass on to the Capitol. Por. Thou hast some suit to Cresar, hast thou not? SlJOth. That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, I shall beseech him to befriend himself. 30 Por. Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? Sooth. None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: The throng that follows Cresar at the heels, Of senators, of prretors, common suitors, Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: I'll get me to a place more void, and there Speak to great Cresar as he comes along. [Exit. Por. I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing The heart of woman is ! 0 Brutus. 40 The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit That Caesar will not grant. 0, I grow faint. Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; Say I am merry: come to me again, And bring me word what he doth say to thee.
JULIUS CAESAR
SD Flourish. Fanfare.
Por.
[Exeunt se'llerally. ACT III. ScENE
1.
Rome. Bifore tlte Cajitol; tke Seltate sitti1lg above.
A crowd ofpeople; a11l01lg tkem ARTE:\IIDORUS andtke Soothsayer. Flourislt. EllterC'EsAR,
Costume design for Julius Caesar by John Bury, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1963
BRUT(;S, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS, ~lETEI.IXS, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, l~o PILIVS, PUBLIUS, and otkers.
[To the Soothsayer] The ides of .March are come. Soot/t. Ay, Cresar; but not gone. A rt. Hail, Cresar! read this schedule. Dec. Trebonius doth desire you to o'er-read, At your best leisure, this his humble suit. Art. 0 Cresar, read mine first; for mine's a suit That touches Cresarnearer: read it, great Cresar. CteS. \Vhat touches us ourself shall be last served. A rt. Delay not, Cresar; read it instantly. Ct1!s. What, is the fellow mad? Pub. Sirrah, give place. 10 Cas. \Vhat, urge you your petitions in the street? Come to the Capitol. Cas.
up to tlu Senate-House, tke rest .followhzg. Pop. I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. C'ts. What enterprise, Popilius?
CJESAR goes
1697
JULIUS CAESAR
Act III Scene I
33 puissant. Powerful.
36 These couchings. This bowing.
38-39 And tum . .. of childTen. i.e. and make common precedent and established law seem childish practice.
Pop.
Fare you well. [Advallces to Casilr. Bru. What said Popilius Lena? Cas. He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. I fear our purpose is discovered. Bru. Look, how he makes to Ccesar: mark him. Cas. Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, 20 Cassius or Ca;sar never shall turn back, For I will slay myself. Brte. Cassius, be constant: Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; For, look, he smiles, and Ca;sar doth not change. Cas. Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Rrutus, He draws Mark Antony out of the way. [Exeunt Antony fllZd Treho1Zius. Dec. Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, And presently prefer his suit to Ccesar. Bru. He is address'd: press near and second him. Cill. Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. 30 CtEs. Are we all ready? 'Wbat is now amiss That Cresar and his senate must redress? • Afel. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Ca;sar, Metellus Gmber throws before thy seat An humble heart,[Kneeling. Cas. I must prevent thee, Cimber . • These couchings and these lowly courtesies Might fire the blood of ordinary men, .And turn pre-ordinance and first decree Into the law of children. Be not fond, To think that Cresar bears such rebel blood 40 That will be thaw'd from the true quality \Vith that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawninJZ Thy urother by decree is banished: If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Cresar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied. ilIet. Is there no voice more worthy than my o\vn,
To sound more sweetly in great Ca:sar's ear 50 For the repealing of my banish'd brother? Bru. I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Cresar; Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may Have an immediate freedom of repeal. CtEs. What, Brutus! Cas. Pardon, C<esar; Cresar, pardon: As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, To beg enfranchisement for Publius Gmber. Cas. I could be well moved, if I were as you: If I could pray to move, prayers would move me : But r am constant as the northern star, 60 Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, They are all fire and everyone doth shine, But there's but one in all doth hold his place: So in the world; 'tis furuish'd well with men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensi\'e: Yet in the number I do know but one That unassailable holds on his rank,
1698
Act III Scene I Unshaked of motion: and that I am. he, 10 Let me a little show it, even in this; That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, And constant do remain to keep him so. Cill. 0 Cresar,Cas. Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? Dec. Great Cresar;Cas. Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? Casca. Speak, hands, for me! [Casca first, tkett tke other Col'lsjtrators and Marcus Brutus stab Casar. Cas. Et tu, Brute 1 Then fall, Oesar! [Dies. Ci,t. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead 1 Run hence, -proclaim, cry it about the streets. Cas. Some to the common pulpits, and cry out , Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' 81 Bru. People and senators, be not affrighted: Fly not; stand still: ambition's debt is paid. Casca. Go to the pulpit, Brutus. Dec. And Cassius too. Bru. Where's Publius? Cin. Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. llfet. Stand fast together, lest some friend of Ccesar's Should chanceBru. Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; There is no harm intended to your person, go Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. Cas. And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. • Bru. Do so: and let no man abide this deed, But we the doers.
JULIUS CAESAR
The death of Julius Caesar. Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 1821
94 abide. Pay the penalty for. 111-113 How many . .. yet unknown. See introduction.
115 That now . .. lies along. That now lies at the foot of Pompey's statue. 117 knot. Group of men.
Re-enter TKEBONIUS. Cas. Where is Antony? Tre. Fled to his house amazed: Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run As it were doomsday. Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures: That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time And drawing days out, that men stand upon. 100 Cas. 'Vhy, he that cuts off twenty years of life Cuts off so many years of fearing death. Bru. Grant that, and then is death a benefit: So are we Ccesar's friends, that have abridged His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, And let us bathe our hands in Ccesar's blood Up to the elbows, and besmeat our swords: Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, And, wavmg our red weapons o'er our heads, Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' IIO • Cas. Stoop, then, and wa:;h. How many ages hence Shall this our lofty scene be acted over In states unbom and accents yet unknown! Bru. How many times shall Ccesar bleed in sport, .That now on Pompey's basis lies along No worthier than the dust! Cas. So oft as that shall be, .So often shall the knot of us be call'd The men that gave their country liberty. Dec. What, shall we forth? Cas. Ay. every man away: Brutus shall lead ; and we willgrace his heels 120 With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome.
1699
JULIUS CAESAR
Act III Scene I
131 resol·ved. Satisfied. 136 untrod state. i.e. new state of affairs. 161 mean. Means. 175 Of brothers' temper. i.e. of brotherly affection.
Brutus: 'Only be patient ... ' Painting of the murder scene by George Clint (1770--1854)
1700
E'tter a Servant. Bru. Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. Servo Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel; Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down ; And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; Cresar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; Say I fear'd Cresar, honour'd him and loved him. If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony 130 .:\Iay safely come to him, and be resolved Hmv Cresar hath deserved to lie in death, Mark Antony shall not love Cresar dead So well as Brutus living; but will follow The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus .Thorough the hazards of this untrod state \Vith all true faith. So says my master Antony. Bru. Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; I never thought him worse. Tell him, so please him come unto this place, 140 He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, Depart untollch'd. Servo I'll fetch him presently. [Exit. Bru. I know that we shall have him well to friend. Cas. I wish we may: but yet have I a mind That fears him much; and my misgiving still Falls shrewdly to the purpose. Bnt. But here comes Antony. R e-cllter ANTONY. Welcome, Mark Antony. Alit. 0 mighty Cresar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, lSI \Vho else must be let blood, who else is rank: If I myself, there is no hour so fit As Cresar's death's hour, nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich With the most noble blood of all this world. I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, Fulfil your ple.asure. Live a thousand years, I shall not find myself so apt to die: 160 .N 0 place will please me so, no mean of death, As here by Cresar, and by you cut off, The choice and master spirits of this age. Eru. a Antony, beg not your death of us. Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, As, by our hands and this our present act, You see we do. yet see you but our hands And this the bleeding business they have done: Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; And pity to the general wrong of Rome170 As fire drives out fire, so pity pityHath done this deed on Cresar. For your part, To you our swords have leaden pomts, Mark Antony: tOur arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts .Of brothers' temper, do receive you in With all kind love, !:,ood thoughts, and reverence. Cas. Your voice shall be as strong as any maR's In the disposing of new di~llities. Bru. Only be patient ull we have appeased
Act III Scene I The multitude, beside themselves with fear, 180 And then we will deliver you the. cause, Why I, that did love Cresar when I struck him, Have thus proceeded. Ant. I doubt not of your wisdom. Let each man render me his bloody hand: First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; Now, Decius Brutus, yours; now yours, Metellus; Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; Though 1.ast, not least in love, yours, good Trebomus. Gentlemen a11,-ala5, what shall I say'! 190 My credit now stands on such slippery ground, That one of tWQ bad ways you must conceit me, Either a coward or a flatterer. That I did love thee, Ccesar, 0, 'tis true: If then thy spirit look upon us now, Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, To see thy Antony making his peace, Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, 200 Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, I t would become me better than to close In terms of friendship with thine enemies. Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; Here didst thou fall ; and here thy hunters stand, Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. world, thou wast the forest to this hart; And this, indeed, 0 world, the heart of thee. How like a deer, strucken by many princes, Dost thou here lie ! 210 Cas. Mark Antony,Aft!. Pardon me, Caius Cassius: The enemies of Cesar shall say this; Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. Cas. I blame you not for praising Cregar so; But what compad mean you to have with us? • Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; Or shall we on, and not depend on you? Ant. Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Cresar. Friends am I with you all and love you all, 220 Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Ca:sar was dangerous. Bru. Or else were this a savage spedacle: Our reasons are so full of good regard That were you, Antony, the son of Cresar, You should be satisfied. A nt. That's all I seek: And am moreover suitor that I may Produce his body to the market-place; And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, Speal in the order of his funeral. 230 Bru. You shall, Mark Antony. Cas. Brutus, a word with you. [Aside to Bru.] You know not what you do: do not consent That Antony speak in his funeral: Know you how much the people may be moved By that which he will utter? Br1l. By your pardon; I will myself into the pulpit first, And show the reason of our Ccesar's death ; \Vhat Antony shall speak, I wiII protest
o
JULIUS CAESAR
216 prick'd. Included.
Antony: ' ... you shall give me reasons Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous'. Decius Brutus (John Hoyt), Cassius (John Gielgud), Brutus (James Mason) and Mark Antony (Marlon Brando), film directed by J. L. Mankiewicz, USA, 1953
1701
JULIUS CAESAR
Act III Scene I
Antony: '0, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!' Engraving from a painting by Richard Westall (176,51836)
264 cumber. Harass.
He speaks by leave and by permission, And that we are contented C:esar shall 240 Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. It shall advantage more than do us wrong. Cas. I know not what may fall; I like it not. Bru. Mark Antony, here, take you Cresar's body. You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, But speak all good you can devise of Cresar, And say you do't by our permission; Else shall you not have any hand at all About his funeral: and you shall speak I n the same pulpit whereto I am going, 250 After my speech is ended. Aut. Be it so; I do desire no more. Brit. Prepare the body then, and follow us. [Exetent all but A1tt01lY· Ant. 0, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ! Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood'! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,259 \Vhich, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongueA curse shall light upon the t limbs of men; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife .Shall cumber all the parts of Itaiy; Blood and destruCtion shall be so in use And dreadful objects so familiar That mothers shall but smile when they behold Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; .All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: And Cresar's spirit, ranging for revenge. 270 • With A te by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice • Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth \Vith carrion men, groaning for burial.
269 fell. Fierce. 271 Ate. Goddess of destruction in classical mythology. 273 let slip. Unleash.
1702
Ellter a Servant. You serve OCtavius Cre~ar, do you not? Servo I do, :\1ark Antony. Allt. Cresardid write for him to come to Rome, Servo He did receive his letters, and is coming; And bid me say to you by word of mouth- 280 o Cresar![Seeing-the body. A lIt. Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, Began to water. Is thy master coming? Servo He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. A1tt. Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; 289 Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse Into the market-place: there shall I try. In my oration, how the people take The cruel issue of these bloody men; According to the which, thou shalt discourse To young Octavius of the state of things. Lend me your hand. [Ext'1mt witlt Ctesar's body.
Act III Scene II SCENE
II.
Tlte Forum.
JULIUS CAESAR
10 severally. Separately.
Enter BRUTUS a1td CASSIUS, and a tltr01lg
of Citizens.
Citizens. We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. Bne. Then' follow me, and give me audience, friends. Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers. Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; And public reasons shall be rendered Of Ca:sar's death. First Cit. I will hear Brutus speak. Sec. Cit. I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, • When severally we hear them rendered. 10 [Exit Cassius, 'witl, some, of the Citizens. BrIt/us goes into tlte pulpit. Third Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended: silence! Bru. Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour, and have resped to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Ccesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cregar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cresar, this is my answer;-Not that I loved Cresar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Ca!Sar were living and die all slaves, than that Cresar were dead, to live all free men? As Ccesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rej oice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? Ifany, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. All. None, Brutus, none. Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to C<esar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy, nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. Etzter ANTONY and others, with CJESAR'S body. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not 1 With this I depart,-that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death. All. Live, Brutus! live, live! First Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house. Sec. Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors.
Brutus: ' ... hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear:' Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 1821
1703
JULIUS CAESAR
Act III Scene II
56-57 Let him . .. Brutus. See introduction.
•
100 Luper-cal. i.e. 15th February.
Shall be crown'd in Bmtus. Fint Cit. We'll bring him to his house With shouts and clamours. Bne. Mycountrymen,Sec. Cit. Peace, silence! Brutus speaks. First Cit. -Peace, ho! Brit. Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony: 61 Do grace to Cresar's corpse., and grace his speech Tending to Cresar's glories; which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow'd to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. [Exit. First Cit. Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony. Third Cit. Let him go up into the public chair; We'll hear him. Noble Antony, go up. Ant. For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you. [Goes btto the pulpit. 70 Fourth Cit. What does he say of Brutus? Third Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake, He finds himself beholding to us all. Fourth Cit. 'Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here. First Cit. This Cresar was a tyrant. Third Cit. Nay, that's certain: We are blest that Rome is rid of him. Sec. Cit. Peace! let us hear what Antony can say. Ant. You gentle Romans,Citi8e1lS. Peace, ho! let us hear him. A nt. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cresar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; 80 The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Cresar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Cresar was ambitious : If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Ccesar answer'd it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the restFor Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable menCome I to speak in Cresar's funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: go But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : Did this in Cresar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Cresar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man . • You all did see that on the Lupercal lQO I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him? o judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts, Ioe) And men have lost their reason. Bear with me :
The Feast of Lupercal commemorated the suckling of Rome's founders, Romulus and Remus, by a wolf. Engraving from a Roman medal in G. du Choul's Discours de la Religion des Anciens Romains, 1567
1704
Third Cit. Let him be Cesar. Fourth Cit. Cresar's better parts
Act III Scene II My heart is in the coffin there with Uesar, And I must pause till it come back to me. First Cit. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings. Sec. Cit. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Ccesar has had great wrong. Tltird Cit. Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place. FQUrtlt Cit. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore 'tis certain he was not ambitious. • First Cit. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. Sec. Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 120 Third Ct'!. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. FQUrtlt Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. Ant. But yesterday the word of Cresar might Have stood against the world; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. masters, if I were disposed to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men: I will not do them wrong; I rather choose 130 To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here's a parchment with the seal of Ccesar; I found it in his closet, 'tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testamentWhich, pardon me, I do not mean to readAnd they would go and kiss dead Cregar's wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, 140 Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue. Fourtlt Cit. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony. All. The will, the will! we will hear Cresar's will. Ant. Have patience. gentle friends, I must not read it; I t is not meet you know how Ccesar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And. being men, hearing the will of Cregar, It will inftame you, it will make you mad: 149 'Tis good vou know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, 0, what would come of it J Fotlrtlt Cit. Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony; You shall read us the will, Cresar's will. Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay awhile? I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it: I fear I wrong the honourable men Whose daggers have stabb'd Cresar; I do fear it. Fourtlt Cit. They were traitors: honourable men! A II. The will! the testament! Sec. Cit. They were villains, murderers: the will! read the wilL 160 A Itt. You will compel me, then, to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Cresar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave?
JULIUS CAESAR
119 abide. Pay for.
°
:\iark Antony (Herbert Beerbohm Tree) addressing the citizens, His Majesty's Theatre, London, 1910
1705
JULIUS CAESAR
Act III Scene II
177 Nervii. Warriors (conquered in the Gallic wars). 198 dint. Mark.
Several Cit. Come dowu. Sec. Cit. Descend. Third Cit. You shall have leave. [A ,ttOfty comes doWtz. Fourth Cit. A ring; stand round. First Cit. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
ItX)
Sec. Cit. Room for Antony, mostnoble Antony. Alt!. Nay, press not so npon me; stand far off.
Antony: 'Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded?' Engraving from A. Pope's edition of Works ... 1728
208-209 Revenge ... live. See introduction.
1706
Several Cit. Stand back; room; bear back. A 1tt. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Ccesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, .That day he overcame the N ervii: Look. in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See \vhat a rent the envious Casca made: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, 181 Mark how the blood of Cresar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Cresar's angel: Judge, 0 you gods, how dearly Ccesar loved him ! This was the most unkindest cut of all ; For when the noble Ccesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart; 190 And, in his mantle muming up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statu a, Which all the while ran blood, great Uesar fell. 0, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. 0, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel • The dint of pity: these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors. First Cit. 0 piteous spectacle! Sec. Cit. 0 noble Ca.'Sar! Third Cit. 0 woful day! Fourtlt. Cit. 0 traitors, villains! First Cit. 0 most bloody sight! Sec. Cit. We will be revenged. • All. Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! It'ire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live! Aftt. Stay, countrymen. 210 First Cit. Peace there! hear the noble Antony. Sec. Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we '11 die with him. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable: What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it: they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is; 221 But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, ACl:ion, nor utterance, nor the power of speech,
Act III Scene III To stir men's blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Ccesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, 221ar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! 40 Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it; Horatio. Hor. Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. I t would be spoke to. Mar. Question it, Horatio. • H or. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form • In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Act I Scene I Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! .'far. I t is offended. Ber. See, it stalks away! .50 H or. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! [Exit Glwst. iIfar. 'Tis gone, and wilInot answer. Ber. How now, Horatio! you tremble and look p.de : I s not this something more than fantasy? What think you on 't? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe • \Vithout the sensible and true avouch Uf mine own eyes. iIfar. Is it not like the king? Hor. As thou art to thvself: Such was the very armour' he had on 60 .\Vhen he the ambitious Norway combated; .So frov.rn'd he once, when, in an angry parle, .He sre.ote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis strange. • Mm'. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, .\Vith martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what pa.rticular thought to work I know not; .nut in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, 70 'Vhy this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subjeCt of the land, And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war; \Vby such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task Does not divide the Sunday from the week: \Vhat might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: \Vho is't that can inform me! Hor. That can I; At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, 80 \Vhose image even but now appear'd to us, Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, .Thereto pric"k'd on by a most emulate pride, Dared to the combat; in which our valiant HamletFor so this side of our known world esteem'd himDid slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compaCt, .'Vell ratified by law and heraldry, Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: • Against the which, a moiety competent go Was gaged by our king: which had retum'd To the inheritance of Fortinbras, • Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, And carriage of the article design'd, His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Of unimproved mettle hot and full, • Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there • Shark'd up a list oflawless resolutes, For food and diet, to some enterprise • That hath a stomach in't; which is no otherAs it doth weIl appear unto our state101 But to recover of us, by strong hand And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
HAMLET
57 sensible. Actual. avouch. Witness.
61 Norway. The king of Norway.
62 parle. Conference. 63 the sledded Polacks. The Poles in sledges.
Horatio: 'He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice'. Engraving from Sigmund Herberstein's Rerum Moscon'facaruffl Commentarii, 1549
65 jump. Exactly. 66 martial stalk. Military bearing. 68
g"TOSS
and scope. Overall view.
83 prick'd. Spurred. emulate. Rivalling. 87 law and heraldry. i.e. law and right .
90 moiety competent. A sufficient share. 93-94 CO'l:enant And car7iage. Conditions and terms. 97 ski7ts. Outlying regions.
98 Shark'd ·up. Gathered together. 7esolutes. Desperadoes .
100
hath a stomach.
Has promise.
1733
HAMLET
Act I Scene I
106 chief head. :\Iain reason. 107 romage. Turmoil. 109 so/·t. Transpire. 118 moist star. :\loon. 121 like preclirse. Similar forewarnings. 125 c1ima flI res. Re,gions.
I s the main motive of our preparations, eThe source of this our watch and the chief head eOf this post-haste and romage in the land. Ber. I think it be no other but e'en so: e'Vell may it sort that this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch; so like the king 1[0 That was and is the questi;)n of these wars. Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. In the most high and palmy state of Rome, .'\. little ere the mightiest] ulius fell, The graves stood tenantle:;s and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: t As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, e1 )isasters in the sun; and the moist star Cpon whose influence Xeptune's empire stands 'Yas sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: 120 eAnd even the like precurse of fierce events, A,; harbingers preceding still the fates And prologue to the omen coming on, Have heaven and earth together demonstrated et· nto our climatures and countrymen.eut soft, behold! 10, where it comes again!
R {'·enter Ghost. I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
Hannio: 'Stay, illusion! ... Speak to me.' Engraving by Kenny :\Ieadows from Barry Corl1\mll'~ Works (~f 5;hakspere. 18+6
140 partisall. Pike. 154 extravagant and erring. \Yandering. 162 strike. '\-Vork evil influences.
1734
U thou hast any sound, or use of Yoice, Speak to me: J f there be any good thing to be done, 130 That may to thee do ease and grace to me, Speak to me : [Cocl~ ero'lUS. If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, 0, speak! ( )r if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For which, they say, YOU spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, ::\:Iarcellus. e Jlar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan? H 01'. Do, if it will not stand. 14I Bel'. 'Tis here! H01'. 'Tis here! Jfar. 'Tis gone! [Exit Glwst. 'Ve do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence; For it is, as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery. Be,.. It was about to speak, when the cock crew. HoI'. And then it st.'l.rted like a guilty thing r pon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, ISO Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, 'Vhether in sea or fire, in earth or air, eThe extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine: and of the truth herein This present object made probation . •1Iar. I t faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever 'gaiilst that Season comes ""herein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: I60 And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad; eThe nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, :'{ 0 fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. Hor. So have I heard and do in part believe it. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:
Act I Scene II Break we our watch up; and by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, 1: 70 This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I thIs morning know Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exeunt. SC~NE
II. A r()()1tt
0/ state in tke castle.
Enter tke Knw, QUEEN, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOL TIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants. Kiflg. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom • To be contraCted in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think un him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, • The imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as twere with a defeated joy,10 With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, .In equal scale weighing delight and dole,Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd' Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone \Vith this affair along. For all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, 20 Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, He hath not faiI'd to pester us with message, I mporting the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most valiant brother. So much for him. N ow for ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we have here writ To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,Vfho, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears Of this his nephew's purpose,-to suppress 30 • His further gait herein; in that the levies, • The lists and full proportions, are all made Out of his subjeCt: and we here dispatch You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; Giving to you no further personal power To business with the king, more than the scope • Of these delated articles allow. Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. Cor.) In that and all things will we show our Vol. 1 duty. 40 Kittg-. We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. [Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? lOU told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, .And lose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, .That shall not be my offer, not thy asking! The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of D~nmark to thy father.
HAMLET
4 contracted in one brow. Drawn together in a frown.
9 jointress. A widow who inherits her husband's entire estate for her life-time.
13 dole. Sorrow. 31 gait. Course.
32 full p1'O/JOrtiolls. Entire establishment. 38 delated. Explanatory.
Costume design for Claudius by Ann Curtis, Royal .shakespeare Co, 1965
45 lose your 'I:oice.
~peak
in yain.
46 That . . . asking. i.e. that I would give you, even without your asking.
1735
HAMLET
Act I Scene II
60 hard. Hard-earned.
64 cousin. i.e. nephew.
85 A . . . kind. Rather more than a kinsman, yet not of the same nature (with a pun on 'kind').
ff1 sun. Hamlet plays on the word 'son'.
Queen: 'Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off.. .' Lithograph of Queen, Hamlet and the King by Eugene Delacroix, 1834
74 common. i.e. 'natural' and 'base'.
79 suspirotion. Respiration. 92 obsequious. Funereal. perseveI'. Persist. 105 corse. Corpse. 107 U7t/>Tevailing. Profitless.
1736
What wouldst thou have, Laertes? Laer. My dread lord, 5" Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, To show my duty in your coronation, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition, and at last • Upon his will I seaI'd my hard consent: 60 I do bese.ech you, give him leave to go. King; Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will ! • But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,• Ham. [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Ham. Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the • sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, castthynightedcolouroff, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids 70 Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Pa,ssing through nature to eternity. • Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. Queen. If it be, Why seems it so particular with thee ? Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not , seems.' 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, N or customary suits of solemn black, • Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, 80 N or the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with aU forms, moods, shapes of grief, That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappinW' and the suits of woe. King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father: But, you must know, your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound In filial obligation for some term 9' • To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever In obstinate condolement is a course Of impious stubbornness; 'tis umnanly grief; It shows a will most incorreCt to heaven, A heart unfortified. a mind impatient, An understanding simple and unschool'd: For what we know must be and is as common As any the most vulgar thing to sense, Why should we ill our peevish opposition 100 Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a. fault to heaven, A fault aaainst the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd; whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried• • From the first corse till he that died to-day, 'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth • This unprevailing woe, and think of us
Act I Scene II As of a father: for let the world take note, e You are the most immediate to our throne; And with no less nobility of love 110 Than that which dearest father bears his son, Do I impart toward you. :For your intent eIn going back to school in \Vittenberg, I t is most retrograde to our desire: And we beseech you, bend you to remain Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. e Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam. Khlg. \Vhy, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: 121 Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, BlIt the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, eAnd the king's rouse the heavens shall bruit again, Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. [Exeunt all but Hamlet. Ha1tl. 0, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! I30 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd eHis canon 'gainst self-slaughter! 0 God! God ~ How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature ePossess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, eH yperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother 140 eThat he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! l\"1ust I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on: and yet, within a monthLet me not think on't-Frailty, thy name is woman!A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, eLike Niobe, all tears :-why she, even she- 149 o God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have moum'd longer-married with my uncle, l\ly father's brother, but no more like my father eTh;m I to Hercules: within a month: Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears eHad left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. 0, most wicked speed, to post e\Vith such dexteri ty to incestuous sheets! I t is not nor it cannot come to good : But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
Enter HOR ....TIO, )'lARCELLIJS, ami BERNARDO. lIor. Hail to your lordship! Ilam. I am glad to sec you wel!: I60 Horatio,-or I do forget myself. If or. The same, my lord, and your poor servant e,·er. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: And what make you from \Vittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus 7
HAMLET
109 most immediate. i.e. next in line. 113 TVittellbeJ·g. Vni,-ersity town in Germany. 118 lose. Waste.
127 rouse. Revel. bruit again. Echo. 132
COl/OIl.
Law.
137 merely. Entirely. 140 Hyper;o". Legendary sun-god. satyr. Mythical creature, half-man, half-goat, a symbol of lust. 141 beteem. Permit. 149 "Yiobe. Zeus turned her into a rock whieh wept continually.
153 Hercules. Legendary Greek hero of great strength. 155 galled. Sore. 157 incestllollS. It was thought so to marry a close relation of a pre,-ious partner.
Johnston ForbC1i Robertson as Hamlet, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1897
1737
HAMLET
Act I Scene II
112 make it "uster of. Entrust it with.
182 dearest. Greatest. 192 Season your admiration. Control your amazement. 200 at point. Completely. cap-a-pe. From head to foot.
Horatio: t • • • A figure like your father, Armed at point exactly'. Ghost of Hamlet's father. Engraving from a painting by H. Fuseli (1741-1825)
204 distill'd. Turned. 209 in time. At the same time.
1738
Afar. My good lordHam. I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord. Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so. Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, 171 • To make it truster of your own report Against yourself: I know you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We '11 teach you to drink deep ere you depart. Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellowstudent; I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Hor. IndeeJ, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats 180 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. • \Vould I had met my dearest foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! l\ly father !-methinks I see my father. H or. Where, my lord? Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him ouce; he was a goodly king. flam. He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again. flor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Ham. Saw? whoY 190 Hor. My lord, the king your father. H ant. The king my father! • Hor. Season your admiration for a while \Vith an attent ear, till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, This marvel to you. Ham. For God's love, let me hear. H or. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead vast and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, .Armed at point exatUy, cap-a-pe, 200 Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd By thei, oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, .Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did; And I with them the third night kept the watch: • 'Vhere, as they had deliver'd, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes: I knew your father; 21 I These hands are not more like. Ham. Bllt where was this? frIar. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Ham. Did you not speak to it? Hor. My lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once methought I t lifted up it head and did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak; But even then the morning cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And vanish'd from our sight. Ifa11l. 'Tis very strange. 220 Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our duty
Act I Scene I II To let you know of it. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night? Mar. 1J We d Id Ber. 0, my or .
•
HAMLET
230 bean!,., Face-guard on helmet.
flam. Arm'd, say you! Mar.} Arm'd, my lord. Ber. Ham. From top to toe? 3far'1 My lord, from head to foot. Ber. J Ham. Then saw you not his faceY Hor. 0, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Ham. 'What, look'd he frowningly? 23I H or. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale or red? Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you? Hor. Most constantly. Ham. I would I had been there. Hor. It would have much amazed you. Ham. Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? Hor. 'Vhile one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. Mar.} Ber. L anger, Ianger.
Hor. Not when I saw't. Ham. His beard was grizzled,-no? 240 Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd. Ham. I will W3.tch to-night; Perchance 'twill walk again. Hor. I warrant it will. . flam. If it assume my noble father's person, I'll spe.ak to it, though hell itself should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, • Let it be tenable in your silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap to·night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue: 250 1 will requite your loves. So, fare you well: Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, I'll visit you. A II. Our duty to your honour. IIam. Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. [Exeu,tt all bu.t Hamlet. l\Iy father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. [E:rit
Hamlet: ' ... though hell itself should gape'. The mouth of hell. Engra\"ing from a medieval manuscript
248 tellable. Kept. still. Always. 7 primy. Springtime. 9 wppliallce. Di\-ersion.
III. A rooln in Polollius' house. E1tter LAERTES and OPHEUA. L,"ler. l\! y necessaries are embark'd: farewell: And, sister, as the winds give benefit And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear from you. Ojlt. Do you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet and the trifling ofrus favour, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, • A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, • The perfume aDd suppliance of a minute; No more. Ojn.. N a more but so Y SCENE
1739
HAMLET
Act I Scene III
11 crescent. Growing. 12 thews. Strength. temple. Body.
15 cautel. Deception. 17 greatness weigh'd. High position considered. 30 credent. Believing. 39 canker. Swelling disease. galls. Harms. 40 buttons. i.e. buds.
51 recks. Considers. rede. Advice. 59 characte1·. Inscribe.
Ophelia (Estelle Kohler), Laertes CVIichael Jayston) and Polonius (Tony Church), Royal Shakespeare Co, I966
Laer. Think it no more: 10 • For nature, crescent, does not grow alone • In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, • And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch The virtue of his will: but you must fear, • His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; For he himself is subjeCt to his birth: He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends 20 The safety and health of this whole state; And therefore must his choice be circumscribed Unto the voice and yielding of that body Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his particular aCt and place May give his saying deed; which is no further Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, • I f with too credent ear you list his songs, 30 Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open To his unmaster'd importunity. Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, And keep you in the rear of your affeCtion, Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Virtue itself'scapes not calumnious strokes: • The canker galls the infants of the spring, • Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, 40 And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. Dpn. I shall the effeC!: of this good lesson keep, As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, 50 • And reeks not his own rede. Lacr. 0, fear me not. I stay too long: but here my father comes. Enter POLONIUS. A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles upon a second leave. Pol. Yet here, Laertes,l aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'dfor. There; myblessingwith thee! And these few precepts in thy memory • See thou charaC!:er. Give thy thoughts no tongue, N or any unproportion'd thought his aCt. 60 Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their Fldoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware Qf thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 70
1740
Act I Scene III But not express'd in fancr; rich, not gaudy; For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station t Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be; }I'or loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This abo\'e all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst 110t then be false to any man. So Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! Lacr. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. • Pol. The time invites you; go; your sen'ants tend. Lacr. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well \Vhat I have said to ,·OU. Olh. - 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Lacr. Farewell. [Exit. Pol. \Vhat is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you: Olh. So please l'OU, something touching the Lord Hamlet. • Pol. Marry, well bethought: go 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late Given private time to you; and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, And that in way of caution, I must tell YOll, You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behoves my daughter and your honour. \Vhat is between you? give me up the truth. • Olh. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affeCtion to me. 100 Pol. AffeCtion! pooh! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous cirCllmstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? Olh. r do not know, my lord, what I should think. Pol. Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; That you have ta'en these tenden: for true pay, \Vhich are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; Or-not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus-you'11 tender me a fool. Olh. My lord, he hath import\med me with love IIO In honourable fashion. Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. Opk. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. • Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, \Vhen the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire. From this time 120 • Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; .Set your entreatments at a higher rate • Than a comm:md to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is ymmg, And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia,
HAMLET
83 tend. Wait. 90 Marry. By the Virgin Mary! 99 tenders. Offers.
:\Irs Patrick Campbell as Ophelia, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1897 115 sprillges. Spring traps.
121 sealltel'. Less prodigal. 122 eIItl'eatmellts. Negotiations. 123 parley. :\Ierely confer .
1741
HAMLET
Act I Scene IV
129 implorators. Those who solicit.
8 wake. Stay up. rouse. Reve.ls. 9 wassail. Drinking of toasts. up-spring. German dance. 12 triu1nph. Fulfilment.
Do not believe his vows; for they are broker~, Not of that dye which their investments show, .But mere implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanc1ified and pious bawds, The better to beguile. This is for all : 1 would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment leisure, As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to 't, I charge you: come your ways. Gph. I shall obey, my lord. [Extay or going: the affair cries haste. And speed must anish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I have brought you from Venice. \Vatch you to-night; for the command, I'lllay't upon you. Cassio knows you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find some occasion to anger Cassin, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his di5cipline ; or from what other course you please, which the time shall more favourably minister. Rod. Well. • [ago. Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true taste again but by the displantiug of Cassio. So shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the impediment most profitably removed, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperity. Rod. I will do this, if I can bring it to any opportunity. 290 lago. I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. Rod. Adieu. [Exit. I ago. That Cassia loves her, I do well believe it; That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: The l\10or, howbeit that I endure him not, Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona 299 A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; .Not out of absolute lust, though-peradventure I stand accountant for as great a sin, But partly led to diet my revenge, For that I do suspect the lusty Moor • Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong 310 That judgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash .For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, .Abuse him to the ;\1oor in the rank garh-
OTHELLO
Costume design for Roderigo by Carleton Smyth, New Theatre, London, 1920
259 paddle. Tickle with a finger. 279 choler. Temper.
301 peradventure. Perhaps. 306 leap'd into my seat. i.e. committed adultery with my wife. 313 stand tIle putting on. Withstand the incitement. 315 rank garb. Gross fashion.
1829
OTHELLO
Act II Scenes II & III
9 offices. Facilities. 7 u:itlt your ellrliest. As early as you can.
23 sounds a pllrley of. Arouses. 27 alm·II1n. Signal.
For I fear Cast us thus early for the love of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and she is sport for Jove. Cas. She's a most exquisite l.ady. Iago. And, I'll warrant her, full of game. Cas. Indced, she's a most fresh and dclicate crcature. 21 Iago. 'Vhat an eye "he has! methinks it .sounds a parley of provocation. Cas. An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. I ago. And when she speaks, is it not an .alarum to love? Cas. She is indeed perfection. Iago. Well, happiness to their 5heets! Come, .lieutenant, I have a stoup of wine; and here without are a bracc of Cyprus gallant;; that
1830
Act II Scene II I would fain have a measure to the health of black Othello. Cas. Not to-night, good rago: I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish courtesy would invent some other custom of entertainment. lago. 0, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for you. 39 Cas. I have drunk but one cup to-night, and .that was craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation it makes here: I am unfortunate in .the infirmity, and dare not task my weakness with any more. I ago. What, man! 'tis a night of revels; the gallants desire it. Cas. Where are they? lago. Here at the door; Iprayyou,callthemin. Cas. I'll do't; but it dislikes me. [Exit. I ago. If I can fasten but one cup upon him, 50 With that which he hath drunk to-night already, He'll be as full of quarrel and offence As my young mistress' dog. N ow, my.sick fool Roderigo, Whom love hath tum'd almost the wrong side out, To Desdemona hath to-night caroused • Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, That hold their honours in a wary distance, The very elements of this warlike isle, Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, 60 And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, Am I to put our Cassio in some action That may offend the isle.-But here they come: If consequence do but approve my dream, My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream.
Re-enter CASSIO; with. kim MONTANO attd Gentlemen; Servants following with. wine. • Cas. 'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. Mon. Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am a soldier. f ago. Some wine, ho! 70 • [SinKs] And let me the canakin clink, clink; And let me the canak.in clink; A soldier's a man; A life's but a span; Why, then, let a soldier drink. Some wine, boys! Cas. 'Fore God, an excellent song. fago. I learned it in England, where, indeed, • they are most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and your swag-bellied HoUanderDrink, ho !-are nothing to your English. 8x Cas. Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? faro. Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead drunk; he sweats not to overthrow • your Almain; he gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle can be filled. Cas. To the health of our general! Mon. I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. go f ago. 0 sweet England! King Stephen was a worthy peet. His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them. sixpence all too dear, • With that he call'd the tailor lown.
OTHELLO
41 craftily qualified. Well diluted. 43 task. Press.
56 pottle-deep. Down to the bottom of a tankard. 66 rouse. Large measure of drink.
Iago: 'Some wine, hoi' Iago (Ralph Richardson) with Cassio, :vIontano and Gentlemen, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1932 71 canakin. Small c,an.
79 potent in potting. i.e. able at drinking. 86 Almain. German. 9'5 lown. A lout.
1831
OTHELLO
Act II Scene III
96 wight. Man.
125 set the watch. Nlount the guard. 129 equinox. i.e. an exact and opposite amount.
135 horologe. Clock. a double set. Twice round. 144 second. Lieutenant.
145 ingraft. Ingrained. 152 twiggen. Wicker.
Cassio: 'I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle.' Leo Genn as Cassio, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1935
•
He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree: 'Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee. Some wine, ho ! IOO Cas. Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. I ago. Will you hear' t again? Cas. No; for I hold him to he unworthy of his place that does those things. Well, God's above all; and there be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. Iago. It's true. good lieutenant. Cas. For mine own part,-no offence to the general, nor any man of quality,-I hope to be saved. 1:11: Iago. And so do I too, lieutenant. Cas. Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's have no more of this; let's to our affairs.Forgive us our sins !-Gentlemen, let's look to our business. Do not think, gentlemen, I am dnmk: this is my ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: I am not drunk now;·1 can stand well enough, and speak well enough. 1:20 A II. Excellent well. Cas. Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. [Exit. M011. To the platform, masters; come, let's • set the watch. I ago. You see this fellow that is gone before; He is a soldier fit to stand by Ccesar And give direCtion: and do but see his vice; .'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, The one as long as the other ='tis pity of him. 1:30 I fear the trust Othello puts him in, On some odd time of his infirmity, Will shake this island. il1'on. But is he sften thus? Iago. 'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: .He'll watch the horologe a double set, If drink rock not his cradle. 1'10£on. I t were well The general were put in mind of it. Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, And looks not on his evils: is not this true! I40
Enter RODERIGO. Iago. (Aside to kim] How now, Roderigo! I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. [Ezit Roderigo. Mon. And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor • Should hazard such a place as his own second • With one of an ingraft infirmity: It were an honest aCtion to say So to the Moor. fag-o. Not I, for this fair island: I do love Cassio well; and would do much To cure him of this evil-But, hark! what noise? [Cry witltin: 'Help 1 help!'
R4-mte,. CASSIO, driving- in RODERIGO. Cas. You rogue! you rascal! Mono What's the matter, lieutenant! Cas. A knave teach me my duty! 1:5% • I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. Rod. Beat mel . 1832
Act II Scene II I
Cas.
Dost thou prate, rogue? [Striking Roderigo. lI1'01t. Nay, good lieutenant; [Staying him. I pray you, sir, hold your hand. Cas. Let me go, sir, .Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard . •Won. Come, come, you're drunk. Cas. Drunk! [They figltt. Iago. [Aside to Roderigo] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. [Exit Roderigo. Nay, good lieutenant,-alas, gentlemen;Help, ho !-Lieutenant,-sir,-Montano,-sir;Help, masters !-Here's a goodly watch indeed! [Bell ri1lKs. • Who's that which rings the bell?-Diablo, ho! The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! You will be shamed for ever.
Re-enter OTHELLO a1td Attendants. Oth. 'Vhat is the matter here? .Won. 'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. [Faints. Oth. Hold, for your lives! Iago. Hold, ho! Lieutenant,-sir,-Montano, -gentlemen,Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! Otlt. Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that 'Vhich heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? 17I For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: He that stirs next to carve for his own rage .H olds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. Iago. I do not know: friends all but now, even now, eIn quarter, and in terms like bride and groom Dcvesting them for bed; and then, but no\\'- 181 As if some planet had ullwitted menSwords out, and tilting one at other's breast, In opposition bloody. I cannot speak eAny be.~inning to this pee\'ish odds; And would in aCtion glorious I had lost Those legs that brought me to a part of it ! Otlt. How comes it, :Michael, you are thus forgot? Cns. I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. Otk \Vorthy Montano, you were wont be civil; 190 The gravity and stillness of your youth The world hath noted, and your name is great I n mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, That you unlace your reputation thus And spend your rich opinion for the name Of a night-lu'awler? give me answer to it. J1.fOll. \\1orthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: Your officer, Iago, can inform you,While I spare speech, which something now offends me,Of all that I do know: nor know I aught 200 By me that's said or done amiss this night; Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice,
OTHELLO
156 mazzard. Head. 161 Diablo. The Devil.
Othello: 'Hold, for your lives!' Illustration by F. B. Dicksee (1853-1928) 174 Holds . .. light. Places small value on. 180 quarteL Relations with each other. 185 pee'1.·ish odds. Petulant quarrel.
1833
OTHELLO
Act II Scene III
206 coWed. Obscured. 212 Though he ... a birth. i.e. e,'en if he were my twin
brother. 246 pass. Support. 247 mince. Dilute, colour. 248 light. Favourable.
Othello: 'Lead him off.' Engraving by Kenny )'leadows from Barry Cornwall's Works of ShaksjJ£re, 1146
And to defend ourselves it be a sin When violence assails us. Oth. Now, by heaven; My blood begins my safer guides to rule; .And passion, having my best judgement collied, Assays to lead the way: if 1 once stir, Or do but lift this arm, the best of you Shan sink in my rebuke. Give me to know How this foul rout be~an, who set it on; 210 And he that is approved in this offence, .Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, \Tet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, To manage private and domestic quarrel, I n night, and on the court and guard of safety! 'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began 't? ilIon. If partially affined, or leagued in office, Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, Thou art no soldier. Iago. Touch me not so near: 220 I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; let, I persuade myself, to speak the truth Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. :Montano and myself being in speech, There comes a fellow crying out for help: And Cassio following him with determined swon!, To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause : Myself the crying fellow did pursue, 230 Lest by his clamour-as it so fell outThe town might fall in fright: he, swift offcot, Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night I ne'er might say before. When I came backFor this was brief-I found them close together, At blow and thrust; even as again they were \Vhen you yourself did part them. More of this matter cannot I report: 240 But men are men; the best sometimes forget: Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, As men in rage strike those that wish them best, Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received !E IV.
OTHELLO
464 clip us round aixJut. Surround us.
Before tke castle.,
Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, and Clown. Des. Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenan Cassio lies? Clo. I dare not say he lies any where. Des. Why, man? _ Clo. He's a soldier, and for one to say a soldier lies, is stabbinO'. Des. Go to: where iodges he? Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie. Des. Can any thing be made of this? 10 Clo. I know not where he lodges, and for me to de"'ise a lodging and say he lies here or he lies there, were to lie in mine own throat. Des. Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report? C10. I will catechize the world for him; that is, make questions, and by them answer. Des. Seek him. bid him come hither: tell him I have moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well. 20 C 10. To do this is within the compass of man's wit; and therefore I ",-ill attempt the doing it. [Exit. Des. Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia? Emil. I know not. madam. Dt's. Believe me, 'I had rather have lost my purse .Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor 1s true of mind and made of no such baseness .-\s j ealou;; creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill thinking. Emil. Is he not jealous? D,'s, \Yho, he? I think the sun where he was born ' 30 .Drew all such humours from him. Emil. Look, where he comes. Dt'S. I wiII not leave him now till Cassio Be call'd to him, •
Lily Brayton as Desdemona, His Majesty's Theatre, London, 1907 1 sinah. Sir.
26 crusadoes. Gold coins. 31 humours. Feelings.
Enter OTHELLO. How is 't with you, my lord? Otll. Well, my good lady. [Aside] 0, hardness to dissemble ! 1847
OTHELLO
Act III Scene IV
51 salt and sorry rheum. A streaming cold.
Othello: 'I have a salt . . . Lend me thy handkerchief'. Brewster Mason as Othello and Lisa Harrow as Desdemona, Royal Shakespeare Co, 197 I
55-74 That handkerchief . .. mummy. See introduction. 69 web. Weave. 70 sibyl. Prophetess.
74 mummy. A preparation from embalmed bodies.
1848
How do you, Desdemona? Des. Well, my good lord. Otlt. Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady. Des. It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow. otit. This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart: Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer, 40 Much castigation, exercise devout; For here's a young and sweating devil here, That commonly rebels. 'Tis a good hand, A frank one. Des. You may, indeed, say so; For 'twas that hand that gave away my heart. Otlt. A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands; But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts. Des. I cannot speak. of this. Come now, your promise. Otlt. What promise, chuck? Des. I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you. 50 • otit. I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me; Lend me thy handkerchief. Des. Here, my lord. Otk. That which I gave you. Des. I have it not about me. Oth.. Not? Des. No, indeed, my lord. o tit. That is a fault. .That handkerchief Did an Egyptian to my mother give: She was a charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people: she told her, while she kept it, 'Twould make her amiable and subdue my father Entirely to her love, but if she lost it 60 Or made a gift of it, my father's eye Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me; And bid me, when my fate would have me wive, To give it her. I did so: and take heed on 't; l\Iake it a darling like your precious eye; To lose 't or give 't away were such perdition As nothing else could match. Des. Is't possible? • otit. 'Tis true: there's magic in the web of it: .A sibyl, that had number'd in the world 70 The sun to course two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work; The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk; .And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful Conserved of maidens' hearts. Des. Indeed! is't true? o tit. Most veritable; therefore look to't well. Des. Then would to God that I had never seen 't! Olh. Ha! wherefore? Des. Why do you speak so startingl}" and rash? Otlt. Is't lost? is't gone? speak, is it out 0' the way? 80 Des. Heaven bless us ! Oih. Say you? Des. It is not lost; but what an ifit were? Oih. How! Des. I say, it is not lost.
Act III Scene IV
Oth. Fetch't, let me see't. Des. Why, so I can, sir, but I will not now. This is a trick to put me from my suit : Pray you, let Cassio be received again. Oth. Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives. Des. Come, come; 90 You'll never meet a more sufficient man.. Otlt. The handkerchief! Des. I pray, talk me of Cassio. Oth. The handkerchief! Des. A man that all his time Hath founded his good fortunes on your love, Shared dangers with you,Oth. The handkerchief! Des. In sooth, you are to blame. Oth. Away! [Exit. Emil. Is not this man jealous? Des. I ne'er saw this before. roo Sure, there's some wonder in this handkerchief: I am most unhappy in the loss of it. E mll. 'Tis not a year or two shows us a man : They are all but stomachs, and we all but food; They eat us hungerly, and when they are full, They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!
Enter CASSIO and IAGO. lago. There is no other way; 'tis she must do 't: And, 10, the happiness! go, and importune her. Des. How now, good Cassio! what's the news with you? Cas. Madam, my former suit : I do beseech you That by your virtuous means I may again III Exist, and be a member of his love Whom I with all the office of my heart Entirely honour: I would nCDt be delay'd. I f my offence be of such mortal kind That nor my service past, nor present sorrows, Nor purposed merit in futurity, Can ransom me into his love again, But to know so must be my benefit; So shall I clothe me in a forced content, 120 And shut myself up in some other course, To fortune's alms. Des. Alas, thrice-gentle Cassia! My advocation is not now in tune; My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him, 'Vere he in favour as in humour alter'd. So help me e\'ery spirit sanCtified, As I have spoken for you all my best .And stood within the blank of his displeasure For my free speech! you must awhile be patient: What I can do I will; and more I will 130 Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you. lag-o. Is my lord angry? Emil. He went hence but now, And certainly in strange unquietness. lag-o. Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon, When it hath blown his ranks into the air, And, like the devil, from his very arm Puff'd his own brother :-and can he be angry? Something of moment then: I will go meet him: There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry. Des. I prithee, do so. [Exit lag-o. Something, sure, of state, 140 .Either from Venice, or some unhatch'd practice Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,
OTHELLO
Desdemona: 'My advocation is not now in tune.' Cassio (David Calder), Desdemona (Lis.a Harrow) and Iago (Emrys James) Royal Shakespe.are Co, 1971
128 blank. Target. 141 unhatch'd practice. Unconcluded plan.
1849
OTHELLO
Act III Scene IV .Hath puddled his clear spirit; and in such cases Men's natures wrangle with inferior things, Though great on~s are their object. 'Tis even so ; .For let Ollr finger ache, and it indues Our other healthful members even to that sense Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods, N or of them look for such observances As fit the bridal Beshrew me much, Emilia, 150 I was, unhandsome warrior as I am, Arraigning his unkindness with my soul; But now I find I had suborn'd the witness, And he's indiCted falsely. Emil. Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think, And no conception nor no jealous toy Concerning you. Des. Alas the day! I never gave him cause. Emil. But jealous souls will not be a.nswer'd so; They are not ever jealous for the cause, 160 But jealous for they are je.alous: 'tis a monster Begot upon itself, born on itself. Des. Heaven keep that monster from Othello's mind! Emil. Lady, amen. Des. I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout: If I do find him fit, 1'11 move your suit And seek to effect it to my uttermost. Gu. I humbly thank your ladyship. [Exeunt Desdemolta and Emilia.
Costume design for Desdemona by Le Cette, Lyric Theatre, London, 1902
143 puddled. Muddied. 146 indues. Encourages.
178 continuate. Convenient.
1850
E'lter BIANCA. Bian. Save you, friend Cassia! Cas. What make you from home? How is it with you, my most fair Bianca? 170 l' faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house. Bian. And I was going to your lodging, Cassio. What, keep a week away? seven days and nights? Eight score eight hours? and lovers' absent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times? o weary reckoning! Cas. Pardon me, Bianca: I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd; .But I shall, ill a more continuate time, Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca, [Gi"lJing her Desdemona's kandkercltte/. Take me this work out. Bialt. 0 Cassio, whence came this? 180 This is some token from a newer friend: To the felt absence now I feel a cause : Is't come to this? Well, well. Cas. Go to, woman! Throw your vile guesses in the devil's teeth, From whence you have them. You are jealous now That this is from some mh;tress, some remembrance: No, in good troth, Bianca. Billll. Why, whose is it? CIlS. I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber. I like the work well: ere it be demandedAs like enough it will-I 'Id have it copied: 190 Take it, and do't; and leave me for this time. Bim/,. Leave you! wherefore? CflS. I do attend here on the general; And think it no addition, nor my wish, To have him see me woman'd.
Act IV Scene I
Bialt. . Why, I pray you? Cas. Not that I love you not. Rialt. But that you do not love me. I pray you, bring me on the way a little, And say if I shall see you SOOI1 at night. Cas. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you; For I attend here: but I'll see you soon. 200 • Bialt. 'Tis very good; I must be circumstanced. [Exeunt.
OTHELLO
201 circumstanced. Yield to events.
ACT IV. SCENE
I.
CY/Wtts.
Be/o1-e tlte castle.
Etzter OTHELLO ami IAGo. Will you t.~ink so ? Think so, Iago ! \\That, la~o. To kISS in private? Otlt. An unauthorized kiss. lago. Or to be naked with her friend in bed AN. hour or more, not meaning any harm? Otlt. Naked in bed, Iago, and not mean harm! It is hypocrisy against the devil: They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven. lago. So they do nothing, 'tis a venial slip: But if I give my wife a handkerchief,10 otlt. What then? lago. Why, then, 'tis hers, my lord; anu, being hers, She may, I think, bestow't on any man. Otlt.. She is protectress of her honour too: May she give that? lago. Her honour is an essence that's not seen; They have it very oft that have it not: But, for the handkerchief,olit.. By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it. Thou said'st-O, it comes o'er my memory, 20 As doth the raven o'er the infec1ed house, Boding to all-he had my handkerchief. lago. Ay, what of that? otit... That's not so good now. lago. What, If I had said I had seen him do you wrong? Or heard him say,-as knaves be such abroad, Who having, by their own importunate suit, Or voluntary dotage of some mistress, Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose But they must blabOtlt. Hath he said any thing? I ago. He hath, my lord; but be you well assured, 30 No more than he'11 unswear. atlt. What hath he said? laga. 'Faith, that he did-I know not what he did. Otlt. What? what? lag-o. LieOtft. With her? lago. With her, on her; what you will. Otk. Lie with her! lie on her! \Ve say lie on her, when they belie her. Lie with her! that's fulsome. -Handkerchief-confessions- handkerchief!-To confess, and be hanged for his labour; -first, to be hanged, and then to confess.-I tremble at it. Nature would not invest herself in lago. Otk.
Charles Dillon, the Victorian actor, as Othello, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, 1869
1851
OTHELLO
Act IV Scene I sllch shadowing passion without some instruCtion. I t is not words that shake me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips.-Is't possible ?-Confess-handkerchief 1-0 devil! [Falls £1. a trattce. Iago. \Vork on, My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught; And many worthy and chaste dames even thus, All guiltless, meet reproach. 'Vhat, ho! my lord! :\Iy lord, I say! Othello!
E Ilter CASSIa.
Iago: 'Work on, My medicine, work! .. .' Othello falls into a trance. Arthur Bouchier as Iago and :\latheson Lang as Othello, Kew Theatre, London, 1920
70 peculiar. Only their own. 76 in a patient list. Patiently. 80 ecstasy. Rage.
83 fleers. Jeers.
87 cope. Top.
1852
How now, Cassio! Cas. What's the matter? 50 Iago. My lord is fa11'n into an epilepsy: This is his second fit; he had one yesterday. Cas. Rub him about the temples. I ago. No, forbear; The lethargy must have his quiet course : If not, he foams at mouth and by and by Breaks out to savage madness. Look, he stirs: Do you withdraw yourself a little while, He will recover straight: when he is gone, I would on great occasion speak with you. 59 [Exit Cassia. How is it, general? have you not hurt your head? Oth. Dost thou mock me? Iago. I mock you! no, by heaven. \Vould you would bear your fortune like a nlan ! o tIt. A horned man's a monster and a beast. Iag-o. There's many a beast then in a populous city, And many a civil monster. otho Did he confess it? Iago. Good sir, be a man; Think every bearded fellow that's but yoked May draw with you: there's millions now alive That nightly lie in those unproper beds • \Vhich they dare swear peculiar: your case is better. 70 0, 'tis the spite of hell, the fiend's arch-mod.:, To lip a wanton in a secure couch, And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know; And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be. Otlt. 0, thou art wise; 'tis certain. Iago. Stand you awhile apart; .Confine yourself but in a patient list. \Vhilst you were here 0' erwhelmed with your griefA passion most unsuiting such a manCassio came hither: I shifted him away, .And laid good 'scuse upon your ecstasy, 80 Bade him anon return and here spe.ak with me; The which he promised. Do but encave yourself, .And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns, That dwell in every region of his face; For I will make him tell the tale anew, ""here, how, how oft, how long ago, and when .He hath, and is again to cope your wife: I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience; Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen, And nothing of a man. Oth. Dost thou hear, Iago? 90 I will be found most cunning in my patience; But-dost thou head-most bloody. Iago. That's not amiss; But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw? [Otlullo retires.
Act IV Scene I N ow will I question Cassio of Bianca, A housewife that by selling her desires Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature That dotes on Cassio; as 'tis the strumpet's plague To beguile many and be beguiled by one: He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain 99 From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:
Re-ellter CASSIO. As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad; And his unbookish je.alousy mu.c;t construe Poor Cassio's smiles, gestures and light behaviour, Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant? • Cas. The worser that you give me the addition Whose want even kills me. lag-o. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't. [Speaking- lo'wer] Now, if this suit lay in Bianca's power, .How quickly should you speed! Cas. Alas, poor caitiff! Otlt. Look, how he laughs already! no lag-o. I never knew woman love man so. Cas. Alas, poor rogue! I think, i' faith, she loves me. Oth. Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out. lagv. Do you hear, Cassio? Oth. Now he importunes him To tell it o'er: go to; well said, well said. I ago. She gives it out that you shall marry her: Do you intend it ? Cas. Ra, ha, ha! 120 Oth. Do you triumph, Roman? do you triumph? • Cas. I marry her! what? a customer! Prithee, bear some charity to my wit; do not think it so unwholesome. Ha, ha, ha! Ot/t. So, so, so, so: they laugh that win. lago. 'Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her. Cas. Prithee, say true. I ago. I am. a very villain else. Otlt.. Have you scored md Well. 130 Cas. This is the monkey's own giving out: she is persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and flattery, 110t out of my promise. Oth. Iago beckons me; now he: begins the story. Cas. She was here even now; she haunts me in e\'ery place. I was the other day talking on the sea-bank with certain Venetians; and thither comes the bauble, and, by this hand, she falls me thus about my neck140 Otlt.. Crying' 0 dear Cassio!' as it were: his gesture imports it. Cas. So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; .so hales, and pulls me: ha, ha, ha! Ollt.. Now he tells how· she plucked him to my chamber. 0, I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall throw it to. Cas. Well, I must leave her company. lapeak: pray ye, go; there's my key: if you do stir abroad, go armed. Ed,I[. Armed, brother! Edrn. Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I am no honest man if there be any good meaning towards Y011: I have told you what I have seen and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image and horror of it: pray you, away. E d..1[. Shall I hear from you anon? Edm. I do serve you in this business. [Exit Edgar. A credulous father! and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he !>uspeCts none; on whose foolish honesty .M y practices ride easy! I see the business. Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: 199 All with me's meet that I can faersen'iceable,jinicai. Obsequious, fussy . 36 cuUionly barber-monger. Low fop.
41 carbonado. Slash, like meat.
49 flesh yeo Give you first taste of blood.
Kent: ' . . . a tailor made thee.' Engraving by F. W. Fairholt from J. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65 69 zed. Last and, for the Elizabethans, useless letter. 71 unbolted. Unsifted, therefore coarse.
1901
KING LEAR
Act II Scene II
80 holy cords. The bonds of natural affection.
84 halcyon. Kingfisher; which when suspended by its neck was belie\'ed to show which way the wind blew.
89 Sorum plain. Salisbury plain. 90 Camelot. Legendary capital of King Arthur. 103 constrains the garb. Forces the style. 114 Phrebus' front. The face of the sun. 130 fieshment. Embodiment,
Costume design for Cornwall by Isamu Noguchi, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1955
1902
the walls of a jakes with him. Spa.re my gray beard, you wagtail? Cortt. Peace, sirrah! You beastly knave, know you no reverence? Kmt. Yes, sir; but anger hath a privilege. Corn. 'Vhyart thou angry? Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, \Vho wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues a.'\ these, .Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain 80 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 \Vith every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing nought, like (togs, 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, .1 'ld dri\'e ye cackling home to CameJot. g:> Corn. \\'hat, art thou mad, old fellow? Gloll. How fell you out? say that. Kent. No contraries hold more antipathy Than I and such a knave. Corn. \Vhy dost thou call him knave? What's his offence 1 Keitt. His countenance likes me not. Corn. No more, perchance, does mine, nor his, nor hers. Kent. Sir, 'us my occupation to be plain: I have seen better faces in my time Than 5tands on any shoulder that I see tOO Before me at this instant. Corte. This is some fellow, 'Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affeCt .A saucy ronghness, 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 1 know, which in this plainness Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends Than twenty silly ducking observants That stretch their duties nicely. no Keitt. Sir, in good sooth, in sincere verity, Under the allowance of your great aspeCt, 'Vhose influence, like the wreath of radiant fire .On flickering Phcebus' front,Cont. \Vhat mean'st by this? Ke1lt. To go out of my dialed, which you discommend so much. I know, sir, 1 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. 120 Com. What was the offence you gave him? OS7tJ. 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 hi., 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 fieshment of this dread exploit, 130 Drew on me here again.
Act II Scene II •
Kent. N one of these rogues and cowards But Ajax is their fool Corn. Fetch forth the stocks I You !>tubborn ancient knave, you reverend braggart, We'll teach youKent. Sir, I am too old to learn: Call not your !'>tocks for me: I serve the king; On whose employment I was sent to you: You shall do !'>mall respeCt, show too bold malice Against the grace and person of my mar.ter. Stocking his messenger. (orn. Fetch forth the ~tocks! As I have life and honour, 140 There shall he sit till noon. Reg. Till noon! till night, my lord; and all night too. Kent. Why. madam, in were your fathers dog, You should not Ul'>e me so. Reg. Sir, being his knave, I will. Corn. This is a fellow of the self-same colour Our sister speaks of. Come, brin9 away the stocks! [Stocks brought out. Glou. Let me beseech your grace net to do so : His fault is much, and the good king hi!'> master wm check him for 't: your purposed low correction Is such as basest and c6ntemned'st wretches :150 For pilferings and most common trespasses Are punir.h'd with: the king must take it ill, That he's so slightly valued in his messenger, Should have him thus restrain'd. Co·,-n. I 'n answer that. Reg. 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 tke stocks. Come, my good lord, away. [Exeunt all but Gloucester and Kent. Glou. I am sorry for thee, friend; 'tis the duke's pleasure, 'Vhose disposition, all the world well knows, 160 • 'Vill not be rubb'd nor stopp'd: 1'11 entreat for thee. Kmt. Pray, do not, sir: I have watched and traveU'd hard; Some time I shall sleep out, the rest 1'11 whi!>tle. A good man'!. fortune may grow out at heels: Give you good morrow! Glem. The duke's to blame in this: 'twill 1Je ill taken. [Exit. • Kettt. Good king, that must approve the common !'>aw, eThou out of heaven's benediCtion comest To the warm sun ! Approach, thou beacon to this under globe, :170 That by thy comfortable beams I may .l)eruse this letter! Nothing almost sees miracles Rut misery: 1 know 'tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately been inform'd Of my obscured courr.e; and shall find time t From this enormous state, seeking to give Losses their remedies. All weary and o'erwatch'd, Take vantage, heavy eyes, not to behold Thi!> shameful lodging. Fortune, good night: smile once more: turn thy wheel! [Sleeps. 180
KING LEAR
132-133 None .. . fool. Ajax was a Greek hero, but was brave rather than intelligent. Kent implies that the blustering Oswald thinks himself greater than Ajax, not only in intelligence but in bravery. 161 rubb'd. Deflected. 167 appYO'f:e the common sow. Confirm the common saying.
188-189 Thuu out ... sun. Go from better to worse. 172-173 Nothing ... misery. Only the most miserable seek for miracles.
Gloucester: 'Fortune, good night: smile once more; tum thy wheel!' Woodcut of the Wheel of Fortune from II Ballaino di M. Fabriw Com-oso da Sevmonenta, 1581
1903
KING LEAR
Act II Scenes III & IV
5 attend my taking. Await my capture.
I II. A wood. Enter EDGAR.
SCENE
10 elf. Tangle.
Edg. 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 preserye 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 1'11 grime with filth; • Blanket my loins; elf all my hair in knots; 10 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 bam" sometime with prayers, Enforce their charity. Poor Turlygod! poor Thm! ~ That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. [Exit. SCENE
IV.
BejOre Gloucester's castle. A-eIlt in tke stocks.
E'lter LEAR, Fool, and Gentleman. Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart
Edgar: 'The country gives me proof and precedent Of Bedlam beggars .. .' Engraving of a Tom O'Bedlam by F. W. Fairholt from 1. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65
11 nether-stocks. Stockings.
24 upon respect. Upon the person of the king's messenger who merits respect.
1904
from home, And not send back my messenger. Gent. As I learn'd, The night before there was no purpose in them Of this remove. Kent. Hail to thee, noble master! Lear. Hal 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. I I Lear. What's he that hath so much thy place mistook To set thee here? Kent. It is both he and she; \' our son and daughter. Lear. No. Kent. Yes. Lear. No, I say. Kent. I say, yea. Lear. No, no, they would not. K enl. Yes, they have. 20 Lear. By Jupiter, I swear, no. Kent. By Juno, I swear, ay. LIar. They durst not do't ; They could not, would not do't; 'tis worse than murder, .To do upon resped such violent outrage: Resolve me, with all modest haste, which way Thou mightst deserve, or they impose, this usage, Coming from us.
Act II Scene IV
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, 30 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 40 Display'd so saucily agains.t 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. F(}(}l. 'Vinter's not gone yet, if the wild-geese fly that way. Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind; • But fathers that bear bag;; So Shall see their children kind. Fortune, that arr.ant whore, N e'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 yea.r. • Lear. 0, how this mother swells up toward my heart! Hysterica pa3sio, down, thou climbing ;arrow, Thy element's below! Where is this daughter? Kent. With the earl, sir, here within. Lear. Follow me not; Stay here. [Exit. 60 Gmt. Made you no more offence but what you speak of? A-eltt. None. How chance the king comes with so small a train? Fool. An thou h.1.dst been set j' the stocks for that question, thou hadst well deserved it. Kmt. 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 kaaves follow it, since a fool gives it. That sir which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, 80 'Vill 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. Kmt. Where learned you this, fool? Fool. Not i' the stocks, fool.
35
KIl\;G LEAR
l1!einy. Attendants.
50 bags. i.e. money hags. 56 mother. A scummy contamination occurring in the fermentation of vinegar. There is also a quibble upon the 'hysterica passio' (hysteria being considered a woman's ailment) of the followinilline .
Fool: 'That sir which serves and seeks for gain .. .' The folly of seeking after material riches and gain. Woodcut from Alexander Barclay's The Ship of Faoles, 1774
Re-enter LEAR, with GLOUCESTER. Lear. Deny to speak with me? They are sick? uley are weary?
1905
KING LEAR
Act II Scene IV
90 fetches. Tricks. 91 images. Signs. flying oj]. Deserting.
J
Edwin Booth, the American actor, as King Lear, Prince~s's Theatre. London. r88r
- - - - --------108 When-to .,. bound. Which, in health we would perform.
115 remotion. Aloofness. 120 sleep to death. i.e. murders sleep. 123 cockney. City dweller. 125 knapped. Rapped.
.They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches; • The images of revolt and flying off. 91 Fetch me a better answer. Clou. My dear lord, You know the fiery quality of the duke; How unremoveable and fix'd he is In his own course. Lear. Venge.ance ! plaf{ue ! death! confusion! Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, I'ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. Clou. Well, my good lord, I have inform'd them so. Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man? 100 Clou. Ay, my good lord. Lear. The king would speak with Cornwall ; the dear father Would with his daughter speak, commands her service: Are they inform'd of this? l\{ y breath and blood! Fiery? the fiery duke? Tell the hot duke thatNo, but not yet: may be he is not well: I nfirmity doth still neglect all office • \Vhereto our health is bound; we are not ourselves \Vhen nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind To suffer with the body: I'll forbear; 110 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 Ke/~t. Should he sit here? This act persuades me .That this remotion of the duke and her Is practice only. Give me my servant forth. Go tell the duke and's wife I'ld speak with them, N ow, presently: bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber-door 1'11 beat the drum • Till it cry sleep to death. J20 Glolt. I would have all well betwixt you. rExit. Lear. me, my heart, my rising heart! but, down! • Fool. Cry to it, nunde, as the cockney did to the eels when she put 'em i' the paste alive; she .knapped 'em 0' the coxcombs with a stick, and cried 'Down, wantons, down!' 'Twas her bro• ther that, in pure kindness to his horse, buttered his hay.
°
Enter 127-128 buttered his hay. Dishonest ostlers used to grease the hay so that the horse would not eat it, but the cockney buttered the hay out of the kindness of his heart.
1906
and Servants. Lear. Good morrow to you both. Corn. Hail to your grace! [Kent is s~t at liberty. Reg-. I am glad to see your highness. 130 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 thv mother's tomb. Sepulchring an adultress. [To Kent] 0, are you free? Some other time for that. Beloved Regan, Thy sister's naught: 0 Re~an, she hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here: [Points to Itt's heart. I can scarce speak to thee: thou'lt not believe CORNWALL, REGAN, GLOUCESTER,
Act II Scene IV With how depraved a quality-O Regan! Reg. I pray you, sir. take patience: I have hope 140 You less know how to value her desert Thall she to scant her duty. Lear. Say, how is that? Reg. I cannot think my sister in the least Would fail her obligation: if, sir, perchance She have restrain'd the riots of your followers, 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As clears her from all blame. Lear. .My curses on her! Reg. 0, sir, you are old; .Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine: you should be ruled and led 150 By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than ;:ou yourself. Therefore, I pray you, That to our slster you do make return ; Say you have wrong'd her, sir. Lear. Ask her forgiveness? Do you but mark how this becomes the house: , Dear daughter, I confess that I am old; [Kneelbtg. Age is unnecessary: on my knees I beg That you'll vouchsafe me raiment, bed, and food.' Reg. Good sir, no more; these are unsightly tricks: Return you to my sister. Lear. [Rising] Never, Reg-dn: 160 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 ,-engeances of heaven fall On her ingrateful top! Strike her young bones, • You taking airs, with lameness! Corn. Fie, sir, fie! 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! 170 Reg. 0 the blest gods! so will you wish on me, When the rash mood is on. Lear. No, Regan, thou shalt never have my curse: .Thy tender-hefted nature shall not give Thee o'er to harshness: her eyes are fierce; but thine Do comfort and not burn. 'Tis not in thee .To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my train, .To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And in conclusion to oppose the bolt Against my coming in: thou better know'st 180 The offices of nature, bond of childhood, Effects of courtesy. dues of gratitude; Thy half 0' the kingdom hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endow'd. Ee%. Good sir, to the purpose. Lear. Who put my man i' the stocks? [Tucket within. Corn. What trumpet's that? Reg. I know't, my sister's: this approves her letter, That she would soon be here.
KING LEAR
148-150 very ... confine. i.e. the end of life.
Costume design for Regan by Leslie Hurry, Stratfordupon-Avon, 1950 166 taking. Infectious.
174 tender-hefted. Gentle. 171 cut off my train. Reduce my followers. 178 sizes. Allowances.
Enter OSWALD. Is your lady come!
1907
KING LEAR
Act II Scene IV Lear. This is a. slave, whose easy-borrow'd pride Dwells in the fickle grace of her he follows. Out, varlet, from my sight! Corn.. What means your grace? 190 Lear. Who stock'd my servant? Regan, I have good hope Thou didst not know on't. Who comes here? o heavens,
Costume design for the Duke of Cornwall by John Napier, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1976
219 sumpter. Driver of pack horse. 227 emiJfmed. Swollen.
230 thunder-bearer. Jupiter.
231 mingle . .. passion. Regard your passion reasonably.
1908
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 m:r part! [To Gon.] Art not ashamed to look upon this beard? o Regan, wilt thou take her by the hand! Gon. Why 110t by the hand, sirl' How have I offended? All's not offence that indiscretion finds And dotage terms so. Lear. 0 sides, you nre too tough; 200 Will you yet hold f How came my man i' the stocks? Corn. I set him there, sir: but his own disorders Deserved much less advancement. Lear. You! did you! Reg. I pray you, father, being weak, seem so. lf, 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 \Vhich shall be needful for your entertainment. Lear. Return to her, and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abjure all roofs, and choose 2II To wage against the enmity 0' 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 OS'Wald. Gon. At your choice, sir. 220 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 '5 in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine: thou art a boil, .A plague-sore, an embossed carbuncle, I n my corrupted blood. But 1'11 not chide thee; Let shame come when it will, I do not call it: • I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, 230 N or tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove: Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure: I can be patient; I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights. Reg. Not altogether so: I look'd not for you yet, nor am provided For your fit welcome. Give ear, sir, to my sister; • For those that mingle reason with your passion Must be content to think you old, and soBut she knows what she does. Lear. Is this well spolcen?
Act II Scene IV
Keg. I dare avouch it, sir: what, fifty followers? 240 I s it not well! What should you need Of more 'I 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. Gon. Why might not you, my lord, receive attendance From those that she calls servants or from mine? • Reg. Why not, my lord! If then they chanced to slack you, We could control them. If you will come to me,For now r spy a danger,-I entreat you 250 To bring but five and twenty: to no more Will I give place (lr notice. Lear. I gave you allReg. And in good time you gave it. • Lear. Made you my guardians, my depositaries; But kept a reservation to be follow'd With such a number. \Vhat, must r come to you With five and twenty, Regan? said you so? Keg. And speak't again, my lord; no more with me. Lear. Those wicked creatures yet do look well-favour'dJ When others are more wicked; not being the I worst 260 Stands in some rank of praise. [TQ Gun.] I'll go with thee! Thy fifty yet doth double five-and-twenty, And thou art twice her love. Gon. Hear me, my lord: What need you five and twenty, ten, or five, To follow in a house where twice so many Have a command to tend you! Keg'. What need one? Lear. 0, 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, 271 Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wearst, 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 J 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, 280 Stain myman's cheeks I 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 1'11 weep; No, 1'11 not weep: . I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere 1'11 weep. 0 fool, I shall go mad! [Exeunt Lear, Gloucester, Kent, and F(J()1. Storm and tempest.
KING LEAR
248 to slack YOII. To be slack in their service to you. 254 def"J!itflries. Trustees.
Lear: '\Yhy, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, \Yhich scarcely keeps thee warm.' \Voodcut of the fashionably attired Queen Elizabeth from the RoxbwJ(he Ballads. 17th century
._------
288 .flares.
Fragment~.
1909
KING LEAR
Act III Scene I
295 particular. Himself.
6 main. :\Iainland. 12 cub-dmu'll. Sucked dry by cubs. 15 rake all. Stake all on the last thrmy.
Corll. Let us withdraw; 'twill be a storm. 290 Reg. This house is little: the old man and his people Cannot be well bestow'd. G01«. 'Tis his own blame; hath put himseIt from rest, And must needs taste his folly. • Reg. For his particular, I'll receive him gladly, But not ane follower. Con. So am I purposed. Where is my lord of Gloucester? Corn. Follow'd the old man forth: he is retum'd. Re-enter GLOUCESTER. Glou. The king is in high rage. Corn. Whither is he going? Glou. He calls to horse; but will I know not whither. 300 Corn. 'Tis best to give him way; he leads himself. Gon. My lord, entreat him by no means to stay. Glou. Alack, the night comes on, and the bleak winds Do sorely ruffle; for many miles about There's scarce a bush. Reg. 0, 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. 310 Corn. Shut up your doors, my lord; 'tis a wild night: My Regan counsels wen: come out 0' the storm. [Exeunt.
,
ACT III. SCENE I.
A lteath..
Storm still. Enter KENT and a Gentleman, meeting.
Charles Kean as King Lear, Princess's Theatre, London, 18 58 18 note. Knowledge.
1910
Kent. Who's there, besides foul weather? Gent. One minded like the weather, most unquietly. Kent. I know you. Where's the king' Gent. Contending with the fretful element; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, .Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease; tears his white hair, Which the impetuous blasts, with eyeless rage, Catch in their fury, and make nothing of; • Strives in his little world of man to out-scom 10 The to-and-fro-contliCting wind and rain. • This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonneted he runs, • And bids what will take all. Kent. But who is with him! Gent. N one but the fool; who labours to 'outjest His heart-struek. injuries. Kent. Sir, I do know you; .And dare, upon the warrant of my note,
Act III Scene II Commend a dear thing to you. There is division, Although as yet the face of it be cover'd 20 With mutual cunning, 'twixt Albany and Cornwall; Who have--as who have not, that their great stars Throned and set high ?-sen'ants, 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, 31 .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; 40 Alld, from some knowledge and assurance, offer This office to you. . Gent. I will talk further with you. Kent. No, do not. For confirmation that I am much more Than my out-wall, open this purse, and take What it contains. If you shall see Cordelia,As fear not but rou shalle-show her this ring; And she will tel you who your fellow is That yet you do not know. Fie on this storm! I will go seek the king. 50 Gent. Give me your hand: have you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but, to effeCl, 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. [Exe1l1lt severally.
II. A Itotker part of tke keatn. Storm still. Enter LEAR and Fool. Lear. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! Vou 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 I And thou, all-shaking thunder, Smite flat the thiCK rotundity 0' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, That make ingrateful man! 9 Fool. 0 nunde, court holy-water in a dry house is better than this rain-water out 0' door. Good nunde, in, and ask thy daughters' blessing: here's a night pities neither wise man nor fool. Lear. Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! N or rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters : I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children,
KING LEAR
24-25 speculations Intelligent of our state. Supplying information of conditions in England. 26 muffs and packings. Quarrels and intrigues,
29 furnishings. Pretexts. 30 potf:er. Army,
31 uattel"d. Dh-ided.
32 secret feet. Secret footholds.
SCE~E
• •
• •
Lear: 'Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks!' Engraving by Kenny :Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Complete Works of Shakspere (1857-1 8 59)
3 cocks, 'Yeathercocks. 6 Val/lit-couriers. Fore-runners.
8 gerlt/ens. Seeds, 10 court Iroly,-teater. Flattery.
1911
KING LEAR
1912
Act III Scene II
Act III Scene II • You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man: 20 But yet I call you servile ministers, That have with two pernicious daughters joill'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 begit3.rs marry many. 30 • The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make Shall of a corn cry woe, And turn his sleep to wake. F or there was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass. 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. 4I 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 wasman, 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 The afffu1ion nor the fear. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, 50 Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'dofjustice: hidetbee, thou bloodyhand; • 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 sinll'd against than sinning. Kent. Alack, bare-headed! 60 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 houseMore harder than the stones whereof 'tis raised; \Vhich even but now, demanding after you, Denied me to come in-return, and force Their scanted courtesy. Lear. My wits begin to tum. 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, 70 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,-
KING LEAR
18 subscription. Allegiance.
David Garrick as Lear, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, 1742
23 high engender'd. Produced in the heavens. 27 cod-piece. Padded covering for the male genitals . 30 many. i.e. lice. 44 Gallow. Frighten. 54 simular man of. Pretender to.
55 caitiff. Wretch. 57 practised on. Plotted against.
58-59 cry ... grace. Ask for mercy. The summoner WllS an official who arrested offenders for the ecclesiastical courts.
Opposite; Lear: '1 am a man More sinn'd against than sinning.' Engraving from Bell's edition, 1773
1913
KING LEAR
Act III Scenes III & IV
80 prophecy. The lines following start with a parody of a verse that was attributed to Chaucer by Elizabethans.
84 burn'd. Pun on venereal disease and it.s effects. 94 going . .. feet. Feet will be used for walking. 95 i'vlerlin. :vragician in Arthurian legends. 14 footed. Landed.
Must make content with his fortunes fit, For the rain it raineth every day. Lear. True, my good boy. Come, bring us to this hovel. [Exeunt Leara,td Ke,zt. FooL This is a brave night to cool a courtezan. • I '11 speak a prophecy ere I go: 80 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; N or cutpurses come not to throngs; When usurers tell their gold i' the field; And bawds and whores do churches build; go 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 l\'1erlin shall make; for I live before his time. [Exit. SCENE III.
Set design by Thomas Grieve for Charles Kean's production. Princ~s's Theatre. 1858
Gloucester's castle.
Etzler GLOUCESTER and EDMUND. Glore. Alack, alack, Edmund, I like not this unnatural dealing. When I desired their leave that I might pity him, they took from me the u!';e 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. Edm. Most savage and unnatural! Glou. 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 myoid master must be relieved. There is some strange thing toward, Edmund; pray you, be careful. [Exit. 21 Ed1n. 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.
IV. The nealh. Before a hovel. Enter LEAR, KENT, and Fool.
ScENE
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. Lear. Let me alone. Kmt. Good my lord, enter here. Lear. Wilt break my heart? Kent. I had rather break mine own. Good my lord, enter. Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm Invades us to the skin: so 'ti!l to thee; But where the greater malady is fix'd, Kmf.
1914
Act III Scene IV The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'ldst shun a bear; But if thy flight lay toward the raging sea, 10 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 el5e Save what beats there. Filial ingratitude! r s it not as this mouth should tear this hand F or 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! 0 Regan, Goneril! Your old kind father, wh05e frank heart gave all,0, that way madness lies; let me shun that; 2~ No more of that. Kent. Good my lord, enter here. 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. Vou houseless poverty,Nay, get thee in. I'll pray, and then I'll steep. [Fool goes ill. Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'cr you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, 29 How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, .Vourloop'd and window'draggedness, defend you ~'rom seasons such as these? 0, I have ta'en Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them. And show the heavens more just. Edg. [Witkilt] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom! [The Fool ru1tS outfrom the hOYlel. Fool. Come not in here, nunde, here's a spirit Help me, help me ! 40 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.
KING LEAR
Lear: 'Pour on; I will endure.' Engra"ing from a painting by Benjamin \\'est (1738-1820)
31 loop'd and u:indmc'd. Full of holes.
60-61 star-blasting, and taking. Evil. influenced by the stars, and infections.
Enter EDGAR disguised as a madman. Edg. Away! the foul fiend follows me ! Through the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind. Hum! go to thy cold bed, and warm thee. Lear. Hast thou gi"en all to thy two daughters? And art thou come to this? 50 Edg. Who gives any thing to poor Tom1 whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlipool, o'er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew; set ratsbane by his porridge; made him proud of heart, to ride on a bay trotting-horse over four-inched bridges, to course his own shadow for 3. traitor. Bless thy five wits! Tom's a-cold,-O, do de, .do de, do de. Bless thee from whirlwinds, starblasting, and taking! Do poor Tom '>ome charity, whom the foul fiend vexes: there could I have him now,-".md there,-and there again, and there. [S torm still. Lear. What, have his daughters brought him to this pass? Could!>t thou save nothing? Didst thou give them all? 1915
KING LEAR
Act III Scene IV
7'5 little . .. flesh. Torture themselves.
77 pelican. The young of pelicans were believed to feed on their parents' blood.
Fool. Nay, he reserved a blanket, else we had been all shamed. Lear. Now, all the plagues that in the pendulous air Hang fated o'er men's faults light on thy daughters! 70 Ke1lt. He hath no daughters, sir. 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? udicious punishment! 'twas this flesh begot • l'hose pelican daughters. • Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock-hill: Halloo, halloo, 100, 100 1 Fool. This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen. 8r Edg. Take heed 0' the foul fiend: obey thy parents; keep thy word justly; swear not'; commit not with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud array. Tom's a-cold. Lear. \Vhat hast thou been? Edg. A serving-man, proud in heart and mind; that curled my hair; wore glO\'es 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-p.,lramoured 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 1"o::n from lenders' books, and defy the foul fiend. 10I 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. Lear. 'Vhy, 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. ThOll owest the worm no :;ilk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no .perfume. Ha! here's three on's are sophist i.cated! 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. 119
J.
A pelican with her young. Engraving from a seal by
F. W. Fairholt from J. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65 78 Pillicock. Pet-name, defined by Florio as meaning
'darling'; but also with a sexual connotation. 95 light of ear. Susceptible to flattery. 100 plackets. Slits in petticoats. 104 sessa. An exclamation urging speed. 110-111 sophisticated. Altered by additions, i.e. cloth-
ing.
111-112 unaccommodated. Cncared for. 120 Flibbertigibbet. A dancing de,-il mentioned in Samuel Harsnett's A Declaratioli of ElfI'egious Popish Impostures, 1603
121 first cock. Cockcrow. 122 the t()eb and the pili. Cataract of the eye. 123 white.
~early
ripe.
Enter GLOUCESTER, with a torch.
125 old. vVold. 126 !light-mare. Incubus. familiars. 129 aroint. Begone.
1916
I/il/e~filld.
:'\inc offspring' or
• Edg. This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet: .he begins at curfew, and walks till the first cock ; .he gives the web and the pin, squints the eye. and .makes the hare-lip; mildews the white wheat, and hurts the poor creature of earth. • S. Withcld 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 I
Act III Scene IV
Kent.
How fares your grace? 130 What's he? Keitt. Who's there! What fs't you seek: Gloll. What are you there? Your names? Edg. Poor Tom; that eats the swimming frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-newt and the .water; that in the fury of his heart, when the • foulfiend rages, eats cow-dung for saHet;;; 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-punishep, 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! Glozt. What, hath your grace no better company? Edg. The prince of darkness is a gentleman: .Modo he 's call'd, and Mahu. Glott. Our flesh and blood is grown so vile, my lord, 150 .That it doth hate what gets it. E dg. Poor Tom '5 a-cold. Glotl. 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. Lear. First let me talk with this philosopher. \Vhat is the cause of thunder? 160 Kent. Good my lord, take his offer; go into the house. • Lear. I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban. What iF. your study? Edg. How to prevent the fiend, and to kill vermin. Lear. Let me ask you one word in private. Kent. Importune him once more to go, my lord; His wits begin to unsettle. Glme. Callst 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, 17 0 I am almoF.t 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,Lear. 0, cry you mercy, sir. Noble philosopher, your company. Edg. Tom's a-cold. Glott. In, fellow, there, into the hovel; keep thee warm. Lear. Come, let's in all. Kl!1tt. This way, my lord. Lear. With him; ISo I will keep still with my philosopher. Kent. Good my lord, soothe him; let him take the fellow. Glou. Take him you on.
KING LEAR
136 water. Water newt.
Lear.
137 saUets. Salads. 138 ditch-dQf!. A dead dog in a ditch.
139 mantle. Scum .
140 tithing. A district within a parish.
Edgar: ' . . . stock-punished, and imprisoned'. Engraving from a 12th century manuscript
144-145 But mice ... long year. Taken up from the medieval romance, Bevis of Hampton. 146 follower ... Smulkin. Edgar's familiar spirit is called Smulkin.
149 Modo . .. Mahu. The names of two demons' in Harsnett's Declaration.
151 gets. Begets.
162 Theban. Philosopher.
176 cry you mercy. Beg your pardon.
1917
KING LEAR
Act III Scenes V & VI
185 Athenian. Philosopher.
• 187 Child RO'lCland. The hero of The Song of Roland. 188-189 Fie,foh ... man. The Giant's refrain from the fairy story Jack-the-Giant-Killer.
• •
ScE~E
V. Gloucester's castle. Enter CORXWALL and EDMUND. Corn. I will have my revenge ere I depart his
3 censured. Judged. 7
hu.
Gloucester's.
12 intelligent party. A spy for.
7 Frateretto. Another demon from Harsnett's Declm'a(ion.
Kent. Sirrah, come on; go along with us. Lear. Come, good Athenian. Glou. No words, no words: hush. Edg. Child Rowland to the dark tower came, His word was still,-Fie, foh, and fum, I smell the blood of a British man. [Exeunt.
house. Edm. How, my lord, I may be censured, that uature thus gives way to loyalty, something fears me to think of. Corn. I now perceive, it was not altogether .your brother's evil disposition made him seek his death; but a provoking merit, set a-work by a reproveable badness in himself. 9 Edm. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be just! This is the letter he spoke • of, which approves him an intelligent party to the advantages of :France. 0 heavens! that this treawn were not, or not I the deteCtor! Corn. Go with me to the duchess. Edm. If the matter of this paper be certain, you have mighty business in hand. Corn. True or false, it hath made thee earl of Gloucester. Seek out where thy father is, hat he may be ready for our apprehension. 20 Ed11l. [Aside} If I find Ym comforting the king, it will stuff his suspicion more fully.-I will persevere in my course of loyalty, though the conflict be sore between that and my blood. Corn. I will lay trust upon thee; and thou shalt find a dearer father in my love. [Exemti.
•
ScENE
VI.
A chamber in a farmhouse adJoini1lg the castle.
Enter GLOUCESTER,
LEAR, KENT, EDGAR.
A demon. \Voodcut from the Sir John Harington's Metamorphos;s of Ajax, 1596
1918
Fool, alld
GIUlI. 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. • Edg. 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 nr a yeoman? 11 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. Lear. To have a thousand with red burning spits Come hissing in upon 'em,Edg. 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. 2:1 Lear. It shall be done; I will arraign them straight. [To Edgar} Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer;
Act III Scene VI
[To tke Fool] Thou, sapient sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes! E dg. Look, where he stands and glares! \Vantest thou eyes at trial, madam? • Come o'er the bourn, Bessy, to me,• Fool. Her boat hath a leak, And she must not speak \Vby she dares not come over to thee. JO Edg. The foul fiend haunts poor Tom in the .voice of a nightingale. Hopdance cries in Tom's belly for two white herring. Croak not, black angel; I have no food for thee. Kent. How do you, sir? Stand you not so amazed: Will you lie down and rest upon the cushions? Lmr. 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-fenowof equity, .Bench by his side: [To KmiJ you are 0' the commission, 40 Sit you too. Edg'. Let us deal justly. Sleepest or wakest thou, jolly shepherd? Thy sheep be ill the corn; And for one blast of thy rninikin mouth, Thy sheep shall take no harm. • Pur! the cat is gray. Lear. Arraign her first; 'tis Goneril. I here take my oath before this honourable assembly, she kicked the poor king her father. 50 Fool. Come hither, mistress. Is your 11ame Goneril? Lear. She cannot deny it. • Fool. Cry you mercy, I took you for a jomtstool. Lear. And here's another, whose warp'd louks proclaim \Vbat store her heart is made on. Stop ber there! Arms, anns, sword, fire! Corruption in the place I False justicer, why hast thou let her 'scape? Edg. Bless thy five wits! 60 Keitt. 0 pity! Sir, where is the patience now, That you so oft have boasted to retain? Edg. [Aside] My tears begin to take his part so much, They'll mar my counterfeiting. Lear. The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me. Edg. Tom will throw his head at them. Avaunt, you curs! Be thy mouth or black or white, Tooth that poisons if it bite; Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim, Hound or spaniel, brach or lym, Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail, Tom will make them weep and wail: For, with throwing thus my head, Dogs leap the hatch, and all are fled . • Do de, de, de. Sessa! Come, march to wakes and fairs and market-towns. Poor Tom, thy horn is dry. ~ Lear. Then let them anatomize Regan; see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these 4ard hearts Y (To Edgar] You, sir, I entertain for one of my hundred; only I do not like the fashion of your garments:
KING LEAR
27 bourn. Brook; Edgar quotes a line from a popular
song.
•
•
:\'lusic for 'Come o'er the bourn .. .' From a 16th century manuscript
28-30 Her boat ... thee. The Fool improvises bawdy vein on the song.
1fi
a
32 '1.'oice of a n7lfht;n/fale. i.e. the Fool's voice. Hopdance. The demon Hobberciidance in Harsnett.
40 commission. Commissioned as justices of the peace. 45 minikin. Small and pretty. 47 the cat is gray. Grey cats were thought of'as witches' familiars.
54-55 I took you for a joint-stool. Colloquial jest for over-looking someone; the joint-stool (one made of pieces joined together) was a common piece of Elizabethan house furniture. See The Taming of the Shrew, Act II, Scene I, I99.
72 brach. Bitch hound. lym. Blood-hound.
77 Sessa. Away!
1919
KING LEAR
Act III Scene YII
115 PiJrtable. Bearable. 118 ~l1ark the high noises. Listen to the rumours that are high. betcray. Re\·eal.
.:vIichael Pennington as Edgar, Royal Shakespeare Co, I976
10 festinate. Speedy.
you wiII say they are Persian attire; but let them be changed. Kent. Now, good my lord, lie here and rest awhile. Lear. ~Iake no noise, make no noise: draw the curtains: so, so, so. \Ve'l1 go to supper i' the morning. So, so, so. 91 Fool. And I'll go to Led at noon.
Re-enter GLOUCESTER. Gloll. Come hither, friend: where is the king my master? Kent. Here, sir; but trouble him not, his wits are gone. Glou. Good friend, I prithee, take him in thy arms; I ha\"e o'erheard a plot of death upon him: There is a litter ready; lay him in't, And drive towards Dover, friend, where thon shalt meet Both welcome and protection. Take up thy master: If thou shouldst dally half an hour, his life, 100 \Yith thine, and all that ofter to defend him, Stand in assured loss: take up, take up; And fol1ow me, that will to some provision Give thee quick conduct. Kent. Oppressed nature sleeps: This ~est might yet have balm'd thy broken sinews \Vhich, if cdnvenience will not allow, Stand in hard cure. [To tke F(}(}I] Come, help to bear thy master; Thou must not stay behind. GIOll. Come, corne, away. rEXelmt all bId Edgar. Edg. \Vhen we our betters see hearing our woe£, 'Ve scarcely think our miseries our foes. IIO \Vho alone suffers suffers most i' the mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind: But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip, 'Vhen grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. • How light and portable my pain seems now, \Vhen that which makes me bend makes the king bow, He childed as 1 father'd! Tom, away! •.Mark the high noises; and thyself bewray, \Vhen false opinion, whose wrong thought defiles thee, In thy just proof, repeals and reconciles thee. 120 What will hap more to-night, safe 'scape the king! Lurk, lurk. [Exit. ScENE
VII.
Gloucester's castll!.
Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, GONERIL, EDMUND, alld Servants. Corn. 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 tke Servants. Reg. Hang him instantly. GOlt. Pluck out his eyes. Corn. Leave him to my displeasure. Edmund, keep YOt! 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 prepara-
1920
Act III Scene VII tion: we are bound to the like. Our posts shall bo:: swift and intelligent betwixt uc;.. Farewell, dear sister: farewell, my lord of Gloucester.
Enter OSWALD. How now! where's the king? Osw. My lord cf Gloucester hath convey'd him hence: Some five or six and thirty of his knights, • Hot questrists after him, met him at gate; \Vho, with some other of the lords dependants, Are gone with him towards Dover; where they boast To have well-armed friends. Cont. Get horses for your mistress. 20 COlt. Farewell, sweet lord, and sister. Corn. Edmund, farewell. [Exeunt Coneril, Edmtmd, and Os'wald. Go seek the traitor Gloucester, Pinion him like a thief, bring him before us. [Exeunt 17ther Servants . • Though well we may not pass upon his life Without tho:: form of justice, yet our power Shall do a courtesy to our wrath, which men May blame, but not control. Who '5 there? the traitor? E"ter
GLOUCESTER,
KING LEAR
11 questrists. Seekers.
24 pass upon his life. Pass the death sentence on him.
29 cork)'. Shrivelled. 39 quicken. Come alive. 41 ruffle. Treat roughly .
br17ught in by tW17 17r three.
Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he. C17rn. Bind fast his corky arms. Clau. What mean· your graces? Good my friends, consider 30 You are my guests: do me no foul play, friends. C17rn. Bind him, I say. [Se1"ll a1tts bbtd him. Reg. Hard, hard. 0 filthy traitor! Cl17u. Unmerciful lady as you are, I'm none. C17rn. To this chair bind him. Villain, thou shalt find[R ega1~ plucks his bell.rd. Cl17u. By the kind gods, 'tis most ignobly done To pluck me by the beard. Rt!g. So white, and such a traitor! (;/ou. 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 40 • You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? C17r'll. Come, sir, what letters had you late from France? Reg. Be simple answerer, for we know the truth. C17rn. And what confederacy have you with the traitors Late footed in the kingdom? Reg. To whose hands have you sent the lunatic king? Speak. Cl17u. I have a letter guessingly set down, Which came from one that's ofa neutral heart, And not from one opposed. C17nJ. Cunning. Reg. And false. Con,. Where hast thou sent the king? 50 C/ou. To Dover. Reg. Wherefore to Dover! Wast thou not cbara-ed at perilCorn. Wherefore to Dover? Let him fitst answer that. •
1921
KING LEAR Act III Scene VII 54 course. The attack of the dogs in bear-baiting.
Bear-baitinj;. Woodcut from the Loutrell Psalter, c. 1340 61 stelled fires. Fixed stars.
62 holp. Helped. 65 cruels. Cruel creatures. subscribed. Renounced. 78 viUllin. Serf or bondsman. 87 quit. Revenge.
89 overture. Discovery. 101 the old course of death. i.e. a natural death.
1922
•
Glolt. I am tied to the stake, and I must stand
the course. Reg. \Vherefore to Dover, sir? Glou. Because I would not see thy cruel nails Pluck out his poor old eyes; nor thy tierce sister In his anointed flesh stick boarish fangs. The sea, with such a storm as his bare head In hell-black night endllred, would have bllOy'd up, .And quench'd the stelled fires: 61 • Yet, poor old heart, he holp the heavens to rain. Tf wolves had at thy gate howl'd that stern time, Thou shouldst have said • Good porter, turn the kev' .All cruei~ else subscribed: but I shall see The winged vengeance overtake such children. Coni. See't shalt thou neyer. Fellows, hold the chair. Upon these eyes of thine 1'11 set my foot. Glou. He that will think to live till he be old, Give me some help! 0 cruel! 0 you gods! 70 Reg'. One side will mock another; the other too. COYJt. Tf you see vengeance,First Servo Hold your hand, my lord: I haye seITed you ever since I was a child; But better service have I never done you Than now to bid you hold. Reg. How now, you dog! First Servo If you did wear a beard upon your chin, I'd shake it on this quarrel. What do you mean? • Corll. My villain! [They dra'w mul.light. FirstServ. Nay, then, come on, and take the chance of anger. Re.f. Give me thy sword. A peasant stand up thus! 80 [Takes a sword, a1ed rtt1lS at him be/dnd. First Servo 0, I am slain! My lord, you have one eye left To see some mischief on him. O! [Dics. Cont. Lest it see more, prevent it. Out, vile jelly! \Vhere is thy lustre now? Glou. All dark and comfortless. 'V11ere's my son Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparks of nature, .To quit this horrid act. R e..!(. 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. 90 Glou. 0 my follies! then Edgar was abused. Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him! Reg. Go thrust him out at gatc:5, and let him smell His way to Dover. [Exit Olle 'with Gloucester.] How is't, my lord? how look YOll ? Corn. I haye 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. Sec. Servo 1'11 never care what wickednc:ss I do, H this man come to good. Third Servo If she live long, 100 • And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters.
Act IV Scene I Sec. Servo Let's follow the old eaIl, and g.et the Bedlam • To lead him where he would: his roguish madness Allows itself to any thing. Third Servo Go thou: I'll fetch some flax and whites of eggs To apply to his bleeding face. Now, heaven help him! [Exeunt sever~lly.
KING LEAR
104-105 his roguish ... U11).' thing. Because he is considered mad, he is permitted to do anything .
ACT IV. 1. Tlte heath. Enter EDGAR. Ed/(. Yet better thus, and knowil to be COIltemn'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. ,\Velcome, 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~ SCENE
Enter GX.Ot:CESTER, led by flit Old Man. My father, poorly led? \Yorld, world, 0 world! • But th.'1.t thy !;trange mutations make us hate thee, Life would 110t yield to age. Old iYlfl1z. 0, my good lord, I have been your tenant, and your father's tenant, these fourscore years.. Gloil. Away, get thee away; good friend, be gone: Thy comforts can do me no good at all : Thee they may hurt. Old .?fan. Alack, sir, you cannot see your way. GIOle. I have no way, and therefore wallt no eyes; 20 I stumbled when I saw: full oft 'tis seen, Our means secure u~, and our mere defeCls Prove our commodities.. 0 dear son Edgar, The food of thy abused father's wrath! Might I but live to see thee in my touch, I 'l~ say I had eyes again! Old ;llan. How now! \Yho's there? Etfg. [A side] 0 gods! Who is't can say 'I am at the worst'? I am worse than e'er I was. Old il-Iall. 'Tis poor Illad Tom. Ed,t:. [Aside] And worse I may be yet: the worst is !lot So long as we can say' This is the worst.' 30 Old iWan. Fellow, where goest? Glo1l. lsi t a beggar-man? Old 11-7an. Madman and beggar too. Gloll. He has some reason, else he could not beg. l' the last night's storm I such a fellow saw; \Vhich made me think a man a WOI'Ill: my :;on Came then into my mind; and yet Illy mind Was then scarce friends with him: I have heard more since . • As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods, They kill us for their sport. Edg. [AsideJ How should this be? Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, 40 Angering itself and others.-Bless thee, master! Glou. Is that the naked fellow? Old lYlan. Ay. my lord.
Samuel Reddish as Edgar. Engravilli from Bell's edition of Shakespeare's works. 1773 4 esperance. Hope. 6 The rearst ... {allghtt'/'. ',"hen your fortune is at its worst any change is for the better.
11-12 But that . .. to age. We only accept death and old age because the changes in fortune from good make life unbearable.
to
bad
38 '/.Camon. Playful.
1923
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene II
54 daub it. Lay it on.
Edgar: ' ... five fiends have been in poor Tom at once'. Engraving of a fiend. Detail from 'The Temptation of St Anthony', by Jacques Cal10t (1593-1636) 70 ruperfluous. Having a superfluity. lust-dieted. Whose desires are sated. 71 slaves your ordinance. Subjects the law to his own ends.
Glott. Then, prithee, get thee gone: if, for my sake, Thou wilt o'ertake us, hence a mile or twain, l' the way toward Dover, do it for ancient love; And bring some covering for this naked soul, \Vho I'll entreat to lead me. Old jlfmt. Alack, sir, he is mad. GI01e. 'Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind. Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure ; Above the rest, be gone. 50 Old l'fmt. I'll bring him the best 'parel that I have, Come on 't what will. [Exit. Glou. Sirrah, naked fellow,• Edg. Poor Tom's a-cold. [Aside] I cannot daub it further. Glo1t. Come hither, fellow. Edg. [Aside] And yet I must.-Bless thy sweet eyes, they bleed. Glo?t. Know'st thou the way to Dover? Edg. Both stile and gate, horse-way and footpath. Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits: bless thee, good man's son, from the foul fiend! five fiends have been in poor Tom at once; of lust, as Obidicut; Hobbididance, prince of dumbness; l\Iahu, of stealing; Modo, of murder; Flibbertigihbet, of mopping and mowing, who since possesses chambermaids and waiting-women. So, bless thee, master! Glou. 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, 70 .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? Ed.!{. Ay, master. Glou. 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 \Vith something rich about me: from that place I shall no leading need. E dg. Give me thy arm : 8I Poor Tom shall lead thee. [Exl!1mt. SCENE
II.
Bifore the Duke
0./ AlballY's palace.
Euter GOXERIL and EDMUND. Welcome, my lord: I marvel our mild husband Not met us on the way. GOIl.
Enter OSWALD. Now, where's your master? Osw. 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 tlte loyal service of his son, Whcn I mform'd him, then he call'd me sot, And told me I had tllrn'd the wrong side out:
1924
Act IV Scene II What most he should dislike seems pleasant to him; 10 What like, offensive. Gon. [To Edm.] Then shall you go no further . • It is the cowish terror of his spirit, That dares not undertake: he 'n not feel wrongs • \Vhich 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: • 1 must change arms at home, and give the distaff Into my husband's hands. This trllsty servant Shall pass between us: ere long you are like to hear, If you dare venture in your own behalf, 20 A mistress's command. Wear this; spare speech; [Giving- a favour. Decline your head: this kiss, if it durst speak, Would stretch thy spirits up into the air: Conceive, and fare thee well. Edm. Yours in the ranks of death. Gon. My most dear Gloucester!
KING LEAR
12 cowislz. Cowardly. 14 to an answer. i.e. to retaliate.
15 pro'ce effects. Be realised. 17 change. Take up. distaff. Implement used in spinning: a symbol of womanishnes,s .
29 worth the whistle. Proverbial: It's a poor dog that's not worth whistling for .
[Exit Edmund.
0, the difference of man and man!
To thee a woman's services are due: My fool usurps my body. OS'1". Madam, here comes my lord. [Exit. E nte1'
•
GOlt.
ALBANY.
I have been worth the whistle.
Alb. o Goneril! You are .10t worth the dust which the rude wind 30 Blows in your face. I fear your disposition: That nature, which contemns it origin, .Cannot be border'd certain in itself; .She that herself will sliver and disbranch .From her material sap, perforce must wither And come t,-, deadly use. COlt. No more; the text is foolish. Alb. 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, 4I • \Vho!.e 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 50 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. GOtt. Milk-liver'd man! 50 That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for
Costume design for Goneril by Isamu Noguchi, Stratford-upan-Avon, 1955
33 be border'd certain. Be kept within bounds.
34 sii'l-'er. Tear off. 38
II/aterial. :\"ourishing.
42 Izead-Iugg'd. Dragged by the head. 56 noiseless. Cnaroused for war.
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 '5 thy drum? • France spreads his banners in our noiseless land. With plumed helm thy state begins to threat;
1925
KING LEAR
58
mtYfal.
Act IV Scene III
Moralising.
60 PTOper-. Appropriate in a devil. 73 bred. Brought up. 79 justicers. Judges. nether. Committed on earth. 86 building in my fancy. Dreams.
• \Vhiles thou, a moral fool, sit'st still, and cricst , Alack, why does he so?' A lb. See thyself, devil! • Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 60 So horrid as in woman. GOIl. 0 vain fool! Alb. Thou changed and self-cover'd thing, for shamc, Be-monster not thy feature. "'erc 't my fitness To let these hands obey my blood, They are apt enough to dislocate and tear Thy flesh and bones: howe 'cr thou art a flcnd, A woman's shape doth shield thee. GOlt. :Marry, your manhood nowE1Jter a Messenger.
A lb. \Vhat news? iV/ess. 0, my good lord, the Duke of Cornwall's dead: 70 Slain by his servant, going to put out The other eye of Gloucester. A lb. Gloucester's eyes! • il/ess. A servant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Opposed against the ac1:, bending his sword To his great master: who, thercat enraged, Flew on him, an,d amongst them fell'd him dead; But not without that harmful stroke, which since Hath pluck'd him after. A lb. This shows you are above, • You justicers, that these our nether crimes So speedily can venge! But, 0 poor Gloucester! Lost he his other eye? l~fess. Both, both, my lord. 8I This letter, madam, craves a speedy answer; 'Tis from your sister. Gon. [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 '11 read, and answer. [Exit.
A lb. \Vhere was his son when they did take his eyes? lIfess. Come with my lady hither. A lb. He is not here. go Mess. No, my good lord; I met him back agailL A lb. Knows he the wickedness? llfess. Ay, my good lord: 'twas he inform'd against him; And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might have the freer course. A lb. 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. [Exeullt.
SCENE III. The Frt!1tdt camp ?tear Dover. Enter KENT and a Gentleman.
OpfXJsite: Costume design for Goneril by Charles
Ricketts, Theatre Royal, London,
1926
I
gog
Kent. Why the King of France is so suddenly gone back know you the reason? Ge1ft. Something he left imperfeCt in the state, which since his coming forth is thought of; which imports to the kingdom so much fear and
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene III
33 clamour moisten'd. Tears followed her lamentations.
Costume design for Kent by Isamu :S-oguchi, Stratfordupon-Avon, 1955 36 one self mate and mate. One husband and wife. 46 casualties. Chances.
danger, that his personal return was most required and nccessary. A-ent. 'Vho hath he left behind him general? Gent. The i\Iar,;hal of Francc, l\Ion,;icur La Far. 10 Kent. Did your letters pierce thc quecn to any demonstration of grief? Gent. Ay, sir; shc took thcm, read them in my presence; And now and then an ample tear trill'd down Her delicate cheek: it secm'd ,;he was a queen Over her passion; who, most rebel-like, Sought to be king o'er hcr. A-ent. 0, then it moved her. Gent. Not to a rage: paticnce and sorrow strove 'Vho should express her goodliest. You have seen Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears t \Vere likc a bctter way: those happy smilcts, 21 That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know 'Vhat 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. }(ent. Made she no vcrbal question? Gent. 'Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of ' father' Pautingly forth, as if it press'd her heart: Cried 'Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! Kent 1 father! sisters! 'Vhat, i' the storm? i' the night? 30 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? Gent. No. Keltt. 'Vas this before the king return'd? Gellt. No, since. R-eltt. 'VeIl, sir, the poor distressed Lear's i' ~~~;
~
'Vho sometime, in his better tune, remembers 'Vhat we are come about, and by no means Will yield to see his daughter. Gmt. Why, good sir? Kmt. A sovereign shame so elbow'~ him: his own unkindness, That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her .1'0 foreign casualties, gave her dear rights To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting His mind so ,,"enomously, that burning shame Detains him from Cordelia. Gmt. Alack, poor gentleman! Kcnt. Of Albany's and Cornwall's powers you heard not? 50 Ge"t. 'Tis so, they are afoot. Kcnt. 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.
1928
Act IV Scenes IV & V SCENE
IV.
The smne.
A tent.
Enter, with dru1Il and colours, Doc1or, alld Soldiers.
KING LEAR
3 jumiter. Fumitory. Fumaria officinalis, a herb used as a tonic.
CORDELIA,
Cor. Alack, 'tis he: why, he was met even now As mad as the vex'd sea: singing aloud; .Crown'd with rank fmniter and furrow-weeds, \Vith bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Damcl, and all the idle weeds that grow .In our sustaining com. A century send forth; Search every acre ill the high-grown field, And bring him to our eye. [Exit (lit Officer.] \Vhat can m:m's wisdom I n the restoring his bereaved ~ense? .He that helps him take all my outward worth. 10 DoEl. There is means, madam: Onr foster-nurse of nature is repose, The which he lacks; that to provoke in him, Are many simples operative, whose power Will close the eye of anguish. Cor. All blest secrets, All you unpublish'd virtues of the earth, Spring with my tears! be aidant and remediate Tn the good n13.11'S di~tress! Seek, seek for him; Lest his ungovern'd rage diSS<Jlve the life That wants the means to lead it.
6
UlltUly.
A troop of a hundred soldiers.
10 helps. Cures. outward. Material.
Ellter a Messenger. Aless. News, madam; 20 The British powers are marching hitherward. Cor. 'Tis known hefore ; Ollr preparation stand,; TIl expectation of them. 0 dear father, 1t is thy hu~iness that I go about; Therefore great France l\Iy mourning- and important tears hath pitied. No blown ambition doth Ollr arms incite, But love, dear love, and our aged father's right: Sool1 may I hear and see him! [E:t:emtl. SeEN E
ErtleI'
V.
Gloucester s castle.
REGAN
and OSWALD.
Rec· liut are my urot:Jer's po,\'ers set forth? Ay, madam. O.f'l.t!. Reg. Himself in person there? O'!·w. l\Iaclam, with much ado; Your sister is the better soldier. Rex. Lord E.dmund spake not with your lord at home? Os'w. No, madam. Reg. 'Vhat might import my sister's letter to him~ Osw. I know not. lady. ReC. 'Faith, he 'is p~sted hence on serIOUS matter. It was great ignorance, Gloucester's .eyes being out, To let him live: where he arrives he moves 10 AU hearts against us: Edmund, I think, is gone, In pity of hi!> misery, to dispatch His nighted life; moreover, to descry The strength 0' the enem\'. Osw I must needs after him, madam, with my letter. ReC. Our troops set forth to-morrow: stay with us; The ways are dangerous.
Costume design for Cordelia by Leslie Hurry, Stratfordupon-A"on, 1950
1929
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene VI
Z5 reillades. Amorous glances. Z6 of her bosom. In her confidence.
O.S·W. I may not, madam: My lady charged my duty in this bu!>iness. Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you Transport her purposes by word? Belike. 20 Something-I know not wh~t: I'll love thee much, Let me unseal the letter. Osw. Madam, I had rathel"Reg. I know your lady does nOl love her husband; I am sure of that: and at her late being here • She gave strange ceillades and most speaking looks .1'0 noble Edmund. I know you are of her bo:;om. Osw. I, madam? Reg. I speak in understanding; you are, I know't: Therefore I do advise you, take this note: 1\1:y lord is dead; Edmund and I have talk'd; 30 And more convenient is he for my hand Than for your lady's: you may gather more. l [ you do find him, pray you, give him this: And when your mistress he.arsthus much from Y01.1, 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. O.nu. \Vould I could meet him, madam! I should show What party I do follow. Reg. Fare thee well. [Exermt. 40 SCEKE
Enter
Costume design for Regan by John Napier, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1976
15 samphire. A herb used in pickling. 19 cock. Cock-boat or dinghy.
VI.
Fields near Dovi'r.
and EDGAR dn'ssed like a peaumt. Glt'u. 'Vhen shall we come to the top of that same hill? Ed;;. You do climb up it now: look, how we iabour. (:.1011. Methinks th(! ground i; e.en. Edg. Horrible steep. Hark. do you hear the sea? Glolt. N c, truly. Ed,I?·. \Vhy, then, your olh!r senses grow imperfeCt By yuur eyes' anguish. GIM. So may it be, indeed: lIIethinks thy voice is alter'd; and thou speak'st In better phrase alld matter than thou didst. Ed,![. You're much deceived: in nothing am I changed But in my garments Clo1l. Methinks you re better spoken. 10 Edg. 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! !\Iethinks 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 unnumher'd idle pebbles chafes, 21 Cannot be heard so high. I 'lliook no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight GLOUCESTER,
f
1930
Act IV Scene VI Topple down headlong. Glou. Set me where you stand. Edg. Give me your hand: YOll are now within a foot Of the extreme verge: for all beneath the moon Would I not leap upright. GI9U. Let go my hand. Here, friend, 's another purse; in it a jewel 'Yell worth a poor man's taking: fairies and gods Prosper it with thee! Go thou farther off; 30 Bid me farewell, and 1et me hear thee going. Edg. Now fare you well, good sir. Glou. With all my heart. Edg. Wby I do trifle thus with his despair Is done to cure it. G/Ott. (Kneelittg] 0 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 Bum itself out. If Edgar live, 0, bless him! 40 Now, fellow, fare thee well. [Hefallsforward. Edg. Gone, sir: farewell. .And yet I know not how conceit may rob The treasury oflife, 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. \Vhat are you, sir? Glou. Away, and let me die. Edg. Hadst thou been aught but gossamer, feathers, air, So many fathom down precipitating, 50 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 \Vhich thou hast perpendicularly fell : Thy life's a miracle. Speak yet again. Glou. But have I fall'n, or no? Edg. From the dread summit of this chalky
KING LEAR
42 conceit. Imagination. 45-48 Alive Or dead? ... What are you sit-? Edgar now speaks in a disguised voice.
53 at each. End to end. 58 a-height. On high. 71 whelk'd. Twisted.
Ed~ar:
'It was some fiend .. .' Engraving of a devil by F. W. Fairholtfrom a church statue from J. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853--65 73-74 who ... impossibilities. Who win honour from men by doing that which men find impossible.
bourn. • Look up a-height; the shrill-gorged lark so far Cannot be seen or heard: do but look up . . Glou. Alack, I have no eyes. 60 r 5 wretchedness deprived that benefit, 1"0 end itself by death? "l'was yet some comfort, \Vhen misery could beguile the tyrant's rage, And frustrate his proud will. Edg. Give me your arm: Up: so. How is't? Feel you your legs.? You stand. Glou. Too well, too well. Edg. This is above all strangeness. UpOl! the crown 0' the cliff, what thing was that Which parted from you? Glou. A poOl· unfortunate beggar. Edg-. As I stood here below, me thought his eyes Were two fun moons; he had a thousand noses, 70 .Horns whelk'd :1nd 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.
1931
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene VI
83 coining. :\Iinting coins was a royal prerogative. 87 press-money. :'VIoney paid to a conscript.
88--88 clothier's yard. An arrow a cloth-yard long. 91 gauntlet. Glove thrown down as a challenge.
92 brown bills. Halberds varnished against rust. i"' the clout. In the white centre of the target.
Glou. I do remember now: henceforth I'll bear AffliCl:ion 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. Edg-. Bear free and patient thoughts. But who comes here? 80
Enter
LEAR,
93 word. Password.
94 marjoram. A herb used in treating brain diseases. 119 luxury. Lust.
124 fitcheu'. Polecat, also a slang tenn for prostitute. soiled. Well-fed.
126 Centaurs. A mythological creature with the body of a horse and the head of a man and synonymous with lechery.
Detail from The Fight between the Lapiths and the Centaurs. by Piero di Cosimo (c. 1462-1521 ?)
132 civet. Perfume.
1932
fantastically dressed 'with wild fio'wers.
The safer sense will ne'er accommodate His master thus. • Lear. N 0, they cannot touch me for coining; I am the king himsel( i!.:dg. thou side-piercing sight! Lear. Nature's above art in that respeCl:. • 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 '5 my • gauntlet; I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the • brown bills. 0, well flown, bird! i' the clout, j' • the clout: hew-gh! Give the word. • Edg. Sweet marjoram. Lear. Pass. Glou. I know that voice. Lear. Ha! Goneril, with a white beard! They flattered me like a dog; and told me I had white hairs in my bc,trd ere the black ones were there. To say '-ay' and' no' to every thing that I said t-' Ay' and 'no' too was no good divinity. \Vhen 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 0' their words: they told me I was every thing; 'tis a lie, 1 am not ague-proof. Glm. The trick of that voice I do well remember: Is't not the king? Lear. Ay, every inch a king: \Vhen I do stare, see how the subjeCl: quakes. IIO 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 \Vas 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, 120 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 \Vith a more riotous appetite . • Down from the waist they are Centaurs, Though women all above: BlIt to the girdle do the gods inherit, Beneath is all the fiends' ; There's hell, there's darkness, there's the sulphurous pit, 130 Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie . • fie! pah, pah! Give me an ounce of civet, good
°
Act IV Scene VI apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee. Glou. 0, let me kiss that hand! Lear. Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality. Glou. ruin'd piece of nature! This great world Shall so wear out to nought. Dost thou know mef Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough. • Dost thou squiny at me? No, do thy worst, blind Cupid; 1'11 not love. Read thou this challenge; mark but the penning of it. Glotl. Were all the letters suns, I could not see one. Edg. I would not take this from report; it is, And my heart breaks at it. Lear. Read. • Glou. What, with the case of eyes Y Lear. 0, 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. 151 Glou. I see it feelingly. Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine cars: see how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, III 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? Glou. Ay, sir. 160 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. 171 .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. Edg. 0, matter and impertinency mix'd! Reason in madness! Lear. If thou wilt weep my fortunes, take my eyes. 180 I know thee well enough; thy name is Gloucester: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know's!; the first time that we smell the air, We wawl and cry. I will preach to thee: mark. Glotl. Alack, alack the day! 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,
°
KING LEAR
140 squillY. Squint. 147 case. Sockets. 164 beadle. Parish constable.
167 The usura hallgs the cozener. A judge, guilty of usury, sentences the petty cheat to death. 172 able. Vouch for .
Lear. '\Vhen we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools.' Laurence Olivier as Lear, Old Vic, 1946
187 block. A block for making felt haLo;.
1933
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene VI Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!
198 seconds. Supporters.
199 salt. Tears. 207 Sa, sa. A hunting cry. L~~_ :..u.SL
fA
Lf/· .
Costume-design for Lear for Peter Brook's production, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1962
211 twain. i.e. Regan and Goneril.
214 vulgar. Common knowledge.
217-218 the main ... thought. Any hour we expect to see the main body of their army. 228 biding. Place to stay_ Z30 To ooot, and OOfJt. In addition and reward. proclaim'dprize. One with a reward on his head. 233 thyself remember _ Think of your soul.
1934
Enter a Gentleman, with Attendants. Cmt. 0, here he is: lay hand upon him. Sir, Your most dear daughterLear. 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. Cent. You shall have any thing. • Lear. No seconds? all myself? • Why, this would make a man a man of salt, To use his eyes for garden water-pots, 200 Ay, and laying autumn's dust. Gent. Good sir,Lear. I will die bravely, like a bridegroom. What! I will be jovial: come, come; I am a king, My masters, know you that. Gent. You are a royal one, and we obey you. Lear. Then there's life in't. Nay, if you get .it, you shall get it with running. Sa, sa, sa, sa. (Exit running; Attendants.follow. Gent. 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 210 • \Vhich twain have brought her to. Edg. Hail, gentle sir. Gent. Sir, speed you : what's your will? Edg. Do you hear aught, sir, of a battle toward? • Cellt. Most sure and vulgar: everyone hears that, Which can distinguish sound. Edg. But, by your favour, How near's the other army? • Gent. Near and on speedy foot; the main descry Stands on the hourly thought. Edg. I thank you, sir: that '5 all. Geld. Though that the queen on special cause i!> here, Her army is moved on. Edg. I thank you, sir. 220 [Exit Gent. Clou. You ever-gentle gods, take my breath from me; Let not my worser spirit tempt me again To die before you please ! Edg. Well pray you, father. Glou. Now, good sir, what are you? Edg. 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 '11 lead you to some biding. Clou. Hearty thanks: The bounty and the benison of heaven • To boot, and boot! Enter OSWALD. Osw. A proclaim'd prize I Most happy! 230 That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh To raise my fortunes.. Thou old unhappy traitor, .Briefly thyself remember: the sword IS out
Act IV Scene VI That must destroy thee. Glote. Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough to't. [Edgar itzterposes. Wherefore, bold peasant, Osw. Darest thou support a publish'd traitor? Hence; Lest that the infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arm. • Edg. Chill not let go, zir, without vurther 'casion.. 240 Osw. Let go, slave, or thou diest! Edg. 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: chill be plain with you. Osw. Out, dunghill ! Edg. Chill pick your teeth, zir: come; no .matter vor your foins. 251 (They fight, and Edgar knocks !tim down. Osw. Slave, thou hast slain me: villain, take my purse: I f 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: 0, untimely death! [Dies. Edg. I know thee wen: a serviceable villain; As duteous to the vices of thy mistress A" badness would desire. Glou. What, is he dead 1 Edg. Sit you down, father; rest you. zOO 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 gaol; from the loathed warmth whereof deliver me, and supply the place for your labour. 'Your-wife, so I would say, Affeetionate servant,
KING LEAR
239 Chill. I will; Edgar assumes a peasant dialect.
243 An ehud. If I could.
246 ehe 'V07 ye. I warrant you. ise. I shalL 247 costard. Head. balfofC. CudgeL
251 Joins. Thrusts.
Oswald: 'Slave thou hast slain me'. Woodcut from a 16th century fencing manuaL 263 death's-man. Executioner. 278 Illidistinguish'd. Lnlimited. fCili. Lust. 284 death-practised. Whose death is plotted.
287 ingenious. Conscious.
, GONERIL.'
.0 undistinguish'd space of woman's ",-ill! A plot upon her virtuous husband's life; And the exchange my brother! Here, in.the sands, Thee 1'11 rake up, the post unsanCtified 281 Of murderous lechers: and in the mature time 'Vith this ungracious paper strike the sight .Of the death-praCtised duke: for him 'tis well That of thy death and business I can tell. Glo1t. 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 imagiuations lose 2g:J The knowledge of themselves. Edg-. Give me your hand: [Drum afar off.
1935
KING LEAR
Act IV Scene VII
6 clipp'd. i.e. less. suited. Dressed.
7 weeds. Clothes.
24 temperance. Sanity. 35 perdu. A sentry placed in a hopeless position. 3& thin helm. A helmet, but in this case hair.
Cordelia watching over the sleeping Lear. Painting by Ford Madox Brown (1821-1893)
1936
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum: Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend. [Exetmt. SCENE VII. A tent in the Frencl~ cam}. LEAR ott a bed asleep, soft music jlaying; Gentleman, and others attending.
En ier CORDELIA, KENT, and Doctor. 0 thou good Kent, how shall I live and work, To match thy goodness? My life will be too short, And every measure fail me. A-C1tt. To be acknowledged, madam, is 0' erpaid. All my reports go with the modest truth; .Nor more nor clipp'd, but so. Cor. Be better suited: • These weeds are memories of those worser hours: 1 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 10 Till time and 1 think meet. Cor. Then be't so, my good lord. [To the Dollor] How does the king? Doll. Madam, sleeps still. Cor. 0 you kind gods, Cure this great breach in his abused nature! The untuned and jarring senses, 0, wind up Of this child-changed father! Doll. So please yom majesty That we may wake the king: he hath slept long. Cor. Be govern'd by your knowledge, and proceed I' the sway of your own will. Is he array'd? 20 Gent. Ay, madam; in the heaviness of his sleep 'Ve put fresh garments on him. Doll. Be by, good madam, when we do awake him; .1 doubt not of his temperance. COt'. Very well. Doc? Please you, draw near. Louder the music there! Cor. 0 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! Kmt. Kind and dear princess ~ Cor. Had you not been their father, these white flakes 30 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! 40 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits at once Had not concluded all. He wakes; speak to him. Doll. Madam, do you; 'tis fittest. COl',
Act IV Scene VII Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong to take me out 0' the g.ra'\"e: Thou art a soul in bliss; but J am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead. Cor. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit. I know: when did you die! Cor. Still, still, far wide! 50 DoEl. He's scarce awake: let him alone awhile. Lear. Where have I been Y \Vhere 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 wiU not swear these are my hands: let's see; I feel this pin prick. Wonld I were assured Of my condition! Cor. 0, look upon me, sir, And hold your hands in benediClion o'er me: No, sir, you must not kneel. Lear. Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, 60 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 atme; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia. Cor. And so I am, I am. 70 Lear. Be your tears wet? yes, 'faith. I pray, weep not: If you have poison for me, I wrn drink it. I know you do not love me; for your sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong: You have some cause, they have not. Cor. No cause, no cause. Leur. Am I in France12 Kent. In your own kingdom, sir. Uar. Do not abuse me. DoEl. 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. 80 Desire him to go in; trouble him no more Till further settling. Cor. Will't please your highness walk? Lear. You must bear with me: Pray you now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish. [Exeunt all but Kent and Gentleman. GNtt. Holds it true, sir, that the Duke of Cornwall was so slain? Kent. Most certain, sir. Gent. Who is conduCtor of his people? Knzt. As 'tis said, the bastard son of Gloucester. Gent. They say Edgar, his banished son, is with the Earl of Kent in Germany. 91 Kent. Report is changeable. 'Tis time to look about; the powers of t he kingdom approach apace.
KING LEAR
Lear: 'You are a spirit, I know:' Painting by George Romney (1734-1802)
1937
KING LEAR
Act V Scene I
--"'-a '
'.\. ~
...
..: : "". ,
~.:--
;.,
Gent. The arbitrement is like to be bloodr. Fare you well, sir. [Extt. Kent. My point and period will be throughly wrouifht, Or wdl or ill, as this day's battle's fought. [Exit.
.......... ,
,..; .. 1'...... .
ACT V. ~{
....
];.~
. ,;;.·... i(1i
.
.. \. .. ~
........ -
Costume design for the Duke of .\.Jbany by John ::\apier, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1976
1 his last purpose. i.e. to fight against Cordelia. 4 constant pleasure. Firm decision.
"
forfended. Forbidden.
30 particulm' broils. Pri,'ate quarrels.
ScENE
1.
The British camp, near Dover.
Enter, 'Wltk drum ana colours, EDMUND, REGAN, Gentlemen, afla Soldiers. • Edm. Know of the duke if his last purpose hold, Or whether since he is advised by aught To change the course: he's fu1l of alteration .And self-reproving: bring his constant pleasure. [To a Gentleman, 'Who goes out. Reg-. Our sister's man is certainly miscarried. Edm. 'Tis to be doubted. madam. Reg. Now, sweet lord, You know the goodness I intend upon you; Tell me-but truly-but then speak the truth, Do you not love my sister! Edm. In honour'd love. Reg. But have you never found my brother's way 10 • To the forfended place ? E dm. That thought abuses you. Reg. I am doubtful that you have been conjunCt And bosom'd with her, as far as we call hers. Edm. No, by mine honour, madam. Reg. I never shall endure her: dear my lord, Be not familiar with her. Edm. Fear me not: She and the duke her husband! EIz1er, 'With drum afld colours, ALBANY, GONERIL, afld Soldiers.
Gon. (Aside] I had rather lose the battle than that sister Should loosen him and me. Alb. Our very loving sister, well be-met. 20 Sir, this I hear; the king is come to his daughter, With others whom the rigour of our state Forced to cry out. Where I could not be honest, I never yet was valiant: for this business, Tt toucheth us, as France invades our land, Not bolds the king, with others, whom, I fear, Most just and heavy causes make oppose. Edm. Sir, you speak nobly. Reg. Why is this reason'dt Gmt. Combine together 'gainst the enemy; .For these domestic and particular broils 30 Are not the question here. Alb. Let's then determine With the ancient of war on our proceedings. E dm. I shall attend you presently at your tent. Reg. Sister, you'll go with us? Gon. No. Reg. 'Tis most convenient; pray you, go with us. Gon. [Aside]O,ho, Iknowtheriddle.-IwiIlgo. As tkey are g-oing out, enter EDGAR disg-uised. Edg-_ If e'er your grace had speech with man so poor, 1938
Act V Scene II Hear me one word. Alb. I '11 overtake you. Speak. [Exeunt llll but Albany and Edgar. Edg. Before you fight the battle, ope this letter. 40 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! A lb. Stay till I have read the letter. Edg. I was forbid it. When time shall ser"e, let but the herald cry, And I '11 appear again. A lb. Why, fare thee well: I will o'erlook thy paper. [Exit Edgar. 50
KING LEAR
53 discovery. Spying. 63 countenance. Support. 65 taking off. Death.
R e-Cllter EDMUND.
Edm. The enemy's in view; draw up your powers. H ere is the guess of their true strength and forces .By diligent discovery; but your haste h now urged on you. Alb. We will greet the time. [Exit. Edm. To both these sisters have I sworn my love; Each jealous of the other, as the stung Are of the adder. Which of them shall I take? Both? one? or neither? Neither can be elljoy'd, If both remain alive: to take the widow Exasperates, makes mad her sister Goneril; 60 And hardly shall I carry out my side, Her husband being alive. N ow 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, ShaH never see his pardon; for my state Stands on me to defend, not to debate. [Exit. 69 SCENE II.
A field between the two camps.
A larum witkin. Enter, witkdnl1n a11d colours, LEAR, CORDELIA, a1ldSoldiers, O'l.!er tki' stage; andextunt. E1~ter EDGAR and GLOUCESTER. Edg. Here, father, take the shadow of this tree For your good host; pray that the right may thrive: I f ever I return to you again, I'll bring you comfort. GuJU. Grace go with you, sir! [Exit Edgar.
A l,'rrum ami retnJa t witkin. R t-enter EDGAR. Edg. Away, old man; give me thy hand; away! King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta'en: Give me thy hand; come 011. Glou. No farther, sir; a man may rot even here. Edg. What, in ill thought3 again? Men must endure
9
1939
KING LEAR
Act V Scene III
2 their greater pleasures. The wishes of those in authority.
3 censure. Judge.
Lear and Cordelia in prison. Water colour by William Blake (1757-1827)
24 good-years. Undefined malevolent power. fell. Skin.
35 write happy. Call yourself lucky.
Opposite: Lear: 'Come, let's away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage.' Painti~ after Thomas Stothard (1755-1834)
19-40
Their going hence. even as their coming hither: Ripeness is all; come on. Glou. And that's tnJe too. (Exeunt. SCENE
III.
TIle British camp near .Dover.
Enter, in conquest, wi/It drum and ('%urs, EDMUND; LEAR and CORDELIA, prisol/ers; Captain, Soldiers, {:rc. Ed1n. Some officers take them away: good guard, • U ntH their greater pleasures first be known arhat are to censure them. Cor. We are not the first 'Who, with best meaning, have incurr'd the worst. For thee, oppressed king, am I cast down; Myself could else out-frown false fortune's frown. Shall we not see these daughters and these !'.ister5> ? Lear. No, no, 110, no! Come, Jet's away to prison: \Ve two alone will sing like birds i'the cage: When thou dostask me blessing, I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live, 1I 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 pf things, As if we were God's spies: and we'll wear out. In a wall'd pric;on, packs and seCts of great ones, That ebb and flow by the mOOll. Edm. Take them awav. Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, ;0 The gods themselves throw incense. Have J caught thee? He that parts us shall bring a brand from heayen. And fire us hence like foxes. 'Vipe 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 Lear a1zd Cordelia, glJarded. Ed11t. Come hither, captain; hark. Take thou this note [givillg a pajer]; go follow them to prison: One step I have advanced thee; if thou dost As this instruCts thee, thon dost make thy way To noble fortunes: know thou this, that men 30 Are as the time is: to be tender-minded Does not become a sword: thy great employment \ViIl not bear question; either say thou'It do 't, Or thrive by other means. Capt. 1 '11 do't, my lord. • Ed11l. About it; and write happy when thou hast done. Mark, I say, instantly; and carry it so As I have set it down. Capt. I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried oa.ts; If it be man's work, I'll do 't. [Exit Flourish. Enter ALBANY. GONERIL, REGAN, another Captain, and Soldiers. A lh. Sir, you have shown to-day your valiant strain, 40 And fortune led you well: you ha.ve the captives That were the opposites of this day's strife; \Ve do require them o{you, so to use them As we shall find their merits and our safety MayequaUy determine. Edm. Sir, I thought it fit
KING LEAR
Act V Scene III
61 list to grace. Wish to honour.
68
YOUT
addition. Titles given by you.
76 the walls are thine. You have taken the castle.
79 let-alone. The prohibition.
83 in thine attaint. Arrested with you.
1942
To send the old and miserable king To some retention and appointed guard; \Vhose age has charms in it, whose title more, To pluck the common bosom on his side, And turn our impress'd lances in our eyes 50 \Vhich do command them. With him I Scent the queen; :My reason all the !'.ame; and they are ready To-morrow, or at further space, to appear \Vhere 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 Cordeli::. and her father Requires a fitter place. A lb. Sir, by your patience, I hold you but a subject of this war, 60 .N ot as a brother. Reg. That's as we list to grace him. Methinksourpleasure might have been demanded, Ere you had spoke so far. He led our powers; Bore the commission of my place and person; The which immediac:r may well stand up, And call itself your brother. GOIl. Not so hot: In his own grace he doth exalt himself, .:More than in your addition. Reg. In my rights, By me invested, he compeers the best. Gon. That were the most, if he should husband you. 70 Reg. Jesters do oft prove prophets. GOIl. Holla, holla! That eye that told you so look'd but a-squint. Reg. Lady, I am not well; else I should answer From a full-flowing stomach. General, Take thou my soldiers, prisoners, patrimony; .Dispose of them, of me; the walls are thine: \Vitness the world, that I create thee here My lord and master. Gon. Mean you to enjoy him? • A lb. The let-alone lies not in your good will. Edtn. Nor in thine, lord. Alb. Half-blooded fellow, yes. 80 Reg. [To Edmund) Let the drum strike, and prove my title thine. A lb. Stay yet; hear reason. Edmund, I arrest thee .On capital treason; and, in thine attaint, This gilded serpent [jointing to Gon.J. For your claim, fair sister, I bar it in the interest of my wife: 'Tis she is sub-contra&ed to this lord, And I, her husband, contradiCt your bans. If you will marry, make your loves to me, My lady is bespoKe. GOtt. An interlude! Alb. Thou art arm'd, Gloucester: let the trumpet sound: go If none appear to prove upon thy head Thy heinous, manifest, and many treasons, There is my pledge [throwing down a glove]; I'il prove it on thy heart, Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing less Than I have here proclaim'd thee. Reg. Sick, 0, sick! Gon. [AsUteJ lfnot, I'll ne'er trust medicine.
Act V Scene III Edlll. There's my exchange [throwhlg do'wlt a glove]: what In the world he is That names me traitor, villain-like he lie~: Call by thy trumpet: he that dares approach, On him, on you, who not? r will maintain 100 My truth and honour firmly. A lb. A herald, ho ! Edm. A herald, ho, a herald! A lb. Trust to thy single virtue; for thy soldiers, All levied in my name, have in my name Took their discharge. Re!i. illy sickness grows upon me. A lb. She is not well: cOllvey her to my tent. [Exit Rega1l, led. Eltter a Herald. Come hither, herald,-Let the trumpet sound,And read out this. Capt. Sound, trumpet! [A trumpet s01mds. Her. [ReadsJ' 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.' E dm. Sound! [First trumpet. Her. Again! [Second trumjJet. Her. Again! [Third trumpet. [Trztmpet answers within.
KING LEAR
:~""u.··
h
Iy" ,.
~ ~
./
Costume design for Edmund by John Napier, Royal
Shakespeare Co, 1976 1ZZ canker-bit. Eaten away. 131 Maugre. In spite of (from the French malgri).
Ettler EDGAR, at the third sound, armed, with a trmnjJet be/ore him. Alb. Ask him his purposes, why he appears Upon this call o' the trumpet. Her. \Vhat are you? II9 Your name, your quality? and why you answer This present summons? Edg. Know, my name is lost; .By treason's tooth bare-gnawn and canker-bit: Yet am I noble as the adven;ary I come to cope. Alb. Which is that adversary? Edg. What's he that speaks. for Edmund Earl of Gloucester? Edm. Himself: what say'st thou to him? Edg. Draw thy sword, That l 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: T protest, 130 .1\iaugre 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, 140 Than liest. Edm. In wisdom I should ask thy name; But, since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn: Back do I toss these treasons to thy head; With the hell-hated lie o'erwhelm thy heart; Which, for they yet glance by and scarcely bruise. This sword of mine shall give them instant way. 1943
KING LEAR
Act V Scene III
A fight ....;th rapier and dagger. From a contemporary woodcut
151 practice. Trickery. 154 cozen'd. Cheated. 158 the laws are mille. i.e. as ruler.
165 fortune
1944
Oil.
Victory over.
Where they shall rest for ever. Trumpets, speak ! [A lart('ms. Th.ey figkt. E d1Tltmd falls. • A lb. Save him, save him! Con. This is praCtice, Gloucester: 151 By the law of arms thou wast not bound to answer An unknown opposite; thou art not vanquish'd, .But cozen'd and beguiled. A lb. 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. [ChJes the letter to Edl1umd. • Con. Say, if I do, the laws are mine, not thine; \Vho can arraign me for't? Alb. Most monstrous! oh! 159 Know'st thou this paper? Con. Ask me not what I know. [Exit. A lb. Go after her: she's desperate; govern her. Edm. \Vhat you have charged me with, that have I done; And more, much more; the time will bring it out; 'Tis past, and so am 1. But what art thou .That hast this fortune on me? If thou 'rt noble, I do forgive thee. Edg. Let's exchange charity. I am no less in blood than thou art, Edmund; If more, the more thou hast wrong'd me. My name is Edgar, and thy father's son. The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 170 Make instruments to plague us: The dark and vicious place where thee he got Cost him his eyes. Ed11l. Thou hast spoken right. 'tis true; The wheel is come full circle; I am here. A lb. 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! Edg. \Vorthy prince, I know't. A lb. Where have you hid yourself? 179 How have you known the miseries of your father? Edg. By nursing them, my lord. List a brief tale; And when 'tis told, 0, 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 9,ogs disdain'd: and in this habit Met I my father with his bleeding rings, 189 Their precious stones new lost: became his guide, Led him, begg'd for him, saved him from despair; N ever,-O fault !-reveal'd myself unto him, Until ~ome half-hour past, when I was anll'd: Not sure, though hoping, of this good success, I a~k'd his blessing, and from first to la~t Told him my pilgrimage: but his flaw'd heart, Alack, too weak the confliCt to support ! 'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief, Burst smilingly. Edm. This speech of yours hath moved me, And shall perchance do good: but speak you on ; You look as YOll had something more to say. 201 A lb. If there be more, more woeful, hold it in; For I am almost ready to di"solve, Hearing of this. . Edg. This would have seem'd a period To such as love not sorrow; but another,
Act V Scene III 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, 209 Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but then, finding Who 'twas that so endured, with his strong arms He fasten'd on my neck, and hellow'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: whitain the stone, .Why, then she lives. Kmt. fs this the promised end? • Edt;. Or image of that horror? A lb. Fall, and cease! Lear. This feather stirs; she lives 1 if it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt. Kmt. (K1lt'elingl 0 my good master! Lear. Prithee, away. Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend. Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all! . I might have saved her; now she 's gone for ever! C')rdelia, Cordelia! stay a little. Ha ! 27I \\That 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. Capt. 'Tis true, my lords, he did, Lear. Did I not, (eHow? .r have seen the day, with my good bitingfa1chion I would have made them skip: [am old now, And these same crosses spoil me. \V ho are you? Mine eyes are not 0' the ue:,t: I'11 tell you straight. Ketti. I f fortune brag of two she loved and hated, 280 One of them we behold. Lear. Thisisa dull sight. Are you not Kent ? Keitt. The same, Yonr servant Kent. Where j-,; your servant Cains? Lerer. 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; r am the very man,• Lear. I'll see that 3trai~ht. Kent. That, from your first of difference and decay, Have follow'd your sad steps. Lear. V ou are welcome hither Kent Nor no man else: all 's cheerl~s) dark, . and deadly. 290 Vour eldest daughters have fordone themselves, And desperately are dead. Lt'ar. Ay, so I think. A lh. He know'i not what he says: and vain it is That we present us to him. E d,g. Very bootless.
E,z/era Captain. Capt. Edmund is dead, my lord. A lb. That's but a trifle here. Vou lords and noble friends, know our intent. What comfort to this great decay may come Shall be applied: for ns, we will resign, 1946
Act V Scene III During the life of this old majesty, To him our absolute power: [To Edgar and Kmt] you, to your rights: .JOO .\Vith 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. 0, see, ~ee ! • Lear. And my poor fool is hang'll! No, no, no life! "Vhy should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou 'It come no more, Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button: thank YOII, sir. Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lip>', 310 Look there, look there! [Dies. Edg. He faints! :\Iy lord, my lord! A~tmt. Break, heart; I prithee, break! Edg. Look up, my lord. Kent. Vex not his ghost: 0, let him pass! he hates him much That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer. Et{I(. He is gone, indeed. I'teflt. The wonder is, he hath endured so long: He but usurp'd his life. A lb. Bear them from hence. Our present busines'i Is general woe. To Kmt flfld Edgar] Friends of my soul, you twain Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain. KeItt. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; 3~I My master calls me, I must not say no. A lb. The weight of this sad time we mu!)t 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. [Exew,t, u'ztlt a dt'lzd marclt.
KING LEAR
301 With boot, and such addition. \Vith due reward and in addition, such titles. honours. j\;oble deeds.
305 my POOl" fool. Cordelia. 'Fool' was a term of endearment.
r
King Lear weeping oyer the dead body of Cordelia. Painting by James Barry (1741-1806)
1947
Macbeth 1606
comes immediately after King Lear, and there is no problem whatever about its date. It was sparked off by the shattering sensation of the never-to-be-forgotten Gunpowder Plot of 5 November 1605. Nation-wide shock was felt at its carefully handled revelations, and for the first time a genuine movement of sympathy for the new king and his family, whose extirpation would have led to untold confusion. The dramatist, always alert to what was in the air, was moved to cash in on this. He and his Company already had reason to be grateful to King James I, who had doubled the rate of remuneration for Court performances (from £10 to £20), more than doubled the number of performances, and given Shakespeare and his Fellows the status of Grooms of the Chamber. So the new play was one of Scottish history, in honour to Banquo, the putative ancestor of the Stuarts, with tributes to his 'royalty of nature', the 'dauntless temper of his mind', the 'wisdom that doth guide his valour', while the prophecy is borne home: MACBETH
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. Tributes are specifically given to James himself, who was already, with some complacency, exercising the sacramental function of an anointed king of touching for the King's 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 swoll'n 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.
19+8
Introduction
MACBETH
Gunpowder Plot: Guy Fawkes and hisJeUow conspirators roo5
James I who, as James VI oJ
Scotland, succeeded to tire English throne in
roo3
1949
MACBETH
Introduction This is a description of the rite, which all the Stuarts exercised - Dr. Johnson himself, as a boy, was touched for his scrofula by Queen Anne. The sacrament was discontinued only by the unsacramental Hanoverians, who of course did not claim the prerogative of divine right. To the King is also imputed 'a heavenly gift of prophecy', and the whole play is, in a way, a compliment to one of his chief intellectual interests, demonology, on which he had written a book. A much better book the dramatist had certainly read - Reginald Scot's DiSCO'l)er}' of Witchcraft, from which he got some suggestions. Actually the 'Weird Sisters' are of Shakespeare's own conceiving: they are not ordinary witches (though it is convenient to call them such), ''''ho were common enough in Jacobean England, and still more so with the growth of the horrid Puritan mentality. 'Ve may regard these 'noms' as emanations of evil, the kind of thing the primitive-minded believe in; a modem mind can conceive of them as the hypostatising, or personalising, of the subconscious, and their 'prophecies' as projections of :.vracbeth's unspoken desires. As such, they are still relevant to our minds and may be accepted imaginatively. Further evidences of the time and what it suggested to Shakespeare's mind as he wrote are to be seen in the specific references to the Jesuit doctrine of equivocation. This made the worst impression at the time and was pressed home at the trial of Henry Garnet, the Jesuit Provincial, who had learned of the Gunpowder Plot under the seal of confession, but had kept quiet about it. Under examination one need not tell the truth, one could always equivocate. Shakespeare was at one '''''ith his countrymen on such matters: an equivocator, he says, is one 'that could swear in both scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven.' When the young Macduff asks his mother, 'what is a traitor ?', she replies, 'why, one that swears and lies. Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.' Shakespeare was never one for going against popular prejudices (unlike Marlowe and Ben Jonson). By this time, Southampton, out of the Tower, had become a Protestant. Shakespeare would certainly have met him again, when the King's Men - as the Chamberlain's had been promoted into being - performed before the King, at Wilton in December 1603, where he was staying to avoid the plague. Both Southampton, and his junior, Pembroke, had been present. It was yet another reason for gratitude to James that he had released Southampton and taken into favour the remnants of Essex' former following.
The Story. So, once more, the dramatist looked up an appropriate story for his play, and found it in the Scottish section of Holinshed's Chronicles. He compressed the events of Macbeth's seventeen-year reign into as many weeks. For his purposes he darkened the character of the historic Macbeth and whitened that of Duncan, who was by no means so guileless and good in history as in the play. Again, under the Celtic custom of tanistry, l the rule of succession to a throne was uncertain, and left it wide open to murderas one saw contemporaneously in the succession to tribal chieftainships in Ireland. That, historically speaking, Macbeth had some claim to the throne is not noticed in the play: it would not have been in keeping with Shakespeare's aim, which was always to intensify the horror. I. The Gaelic and Irish custom by which the succession went, by election, to the 'worthiest' kinsman.
1950
The Play is the only one of the tragedies that is founded on a crime. Its analogy is more with the Histories, in particular with Richard III, with whose obsessive and haunted mind Macbeth has something in common, and there are echoes of the earlier play in his remorse and self-reproaches. He is, however, a very different character: nothing noble in Richard III, but a certain gleefulness in doing ill; Macbeth has nothing of that, but
Introduction
MACBETH
The Weird Sisters. Painting by Henry Fuseli (I74 I - I82 5)
a flawed and ruined nobility - he is the victim of the 'Yeird Sisters' prophecies, or, rather, of the promptings to which their 'prophecies' gave confirmation. Here Shakespeare speeded up the action to launch the play forward in one grand and simple onrush: nothing of the complex movement of Hamlet and Killg Lear. Direct and simple like its neighbour, Othello, it yet offers a contrast with it: where that is rich and coloured, lYlacbeth is dark and lurid, full of blood, like the Celtic Northem glooms out of which it comes. ~luch of the action is by night, torches and guttering candles, knocking at the nocturnally closed gate enough to wake the dead. On the stage this knocking is ominous and thrilling; while the sleep-walking scene of Lady Macbeth is beyond anything, comparable only to the greatest heights of the dramatist's own art, Hamlet's scenes with his mother and Ophelia, Lear with Cordelia at the end of all. The apparition of the murdered Banquo at l\Iacbeth's feast is hardly less thrilling, and certainly impressed contemporaries. There are two immediate references to it in the very next year, 1607: in The Puritan and, more memorably, in The Knight of the Burning Pestle: When thou art at thy table with thy friends, Merry in heart, and filled with swelling wine, I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, Invisible to all men but thy self ... Shall make thee let the cup fall from thy hand, And stand as mute and pale as death itself.
As witchcraft is to the fore in this play so also is the theme of sleep. Immediately after 1951
MACBETH
Introduction the murder of the King, Macbeth says: Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep' - the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave 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 ... Shakespeare was recalling the famous apostrophe to sleep of Sir Philip Sidney; but the theme is put to dramatic use, for neither Macbeth nor Lady Macbeth can sleep the sleep of innocence again, and she is driven by her guilt-haunted sleeplessness to suicide. Short as the play is - and Shakespeare seems to have abridged it for production - it is full of famous lines which have entered into our collective memories: After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Nothing in this life became him like the leaving of it. And one of the most haunting passages relates the action itself to its author's profession: 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.
Personal. In so concentrated a play there is little that is not directly relevant. In the 'Hyrcan tiger' we have another fleck from his reading of Pljny's Natural History, like the reference to the Pontic sea in Othello. Tarquin is in mind, as so often; once more there are portents in the air, and A falcon towering in her pride of place Was by a mousing owl hawked at and killed. Several references to snakes occur. Are we to see him in the reflection: And you all know security Is mortals' chiefest enemy?
It is a thought characteristic of him. We have a couple of references to the contemporaneous kerns and gallowglasses, but now these are from the Western Isles - all one Celtic world with Northern Ireland: 'the merciless Macdonald ... from the Western Isles Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied. These were much in the news, for the leader of the Ulster resistance, Hugh O'Neill, had 1952
Introduction
MACBETH
Opening page of Macbethfrom the First Folio of r623
THE TRAGEDIE OF ,
MACBETH. '
submitted to James I, who was preparing the plantation of Ulster with Scots. There were kern and gallowglass, Macdonalds and MacDonells on either side those narrow waters: to what point their endless scuffling? The play is true in atmosphere to their dark, lugubrious, bloodstained world.
The Text offers some problems. It has come do",'ll to us from the Folio, 'doubtless printed from a prompt-copy', says E. K. Chambers; and this has been cut, perhaps by Shakespeare himself. Greg adds that the stage-directions 'are nonnal and reveal the hand of the book-keeper, though some probably originated with the author.' For some later performance another hand, probably Middleton, inserted a few things, but not so much as Victorian disintegrators (i.e. of the text) supposed. Dover-Wilson says that 'modern experts are less pessimistic'; the whole drift of scholarship has been in a conservative direction, to substantiate on the whole what has come down to us. Simon Forman saw a performance at the Globe on 20 April 161 I. It is interesting that he refers to the Weird Sisters not as witches but as 'women fairies or nymphs'. He was most impressed by them, the apparition of Banquo's ghost, and Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking.! Macbeth's reference to Banquo: under him My Genius is rebuked, as it is said Mark Antony's was by Caesarshows that Shakespeare was already thinking of his next play.
I. cf. my Simon Forman, 303-4.
1953
MACBETH. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. An English Dodor. A Scotch DoCtor. A Soldier. A Porter. An Old Man.
DUNCAN, king of Scotland. MALCOLM, ) his sons. DONALI3AIN,J MACBETH,} generals of the king's army. BANQUO, MACDUFF, } LENNOX, RMoss, noblemen of Scotland. ~ ENTEITH, 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.
• A bullet beside a text line indicates the opposite column.
all
LADY MACBETH. LADY MACDUFF. Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. HECATE. Three Witches. Apparitions. Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Soldiers, Murderers, Attendants, and Messengers. SCENE: Scotland: England.
annotation in \Vitches with familiars. Woodcut from 17th century, as reproduced in Book of Days, 19th century
ACT I. SCENE I.
A desert place.
Tleunderand lightning. Enter three Witches. First Witcn. When shall we three meet again • In thunder, lightning, or in rain? • Sec. Witch. When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won. Third Witch. That will be ere the set of sun. First Witele. Where the place? Sec. Witch. Upon the heath. Third Witch.. There to meet with Macbeth. • First Witck. I come, Graymalkin! • Sec. Witch. Paddock calls.
2 In thunder, lightning, or in rai,,? Witches and demons were supposed to be particularly active in turbulent weather, often thought to be caused by their spells. 3 hurlyburly. Confusion, turmoil, especially with reference to sedition or insurrection.
9 Graymalkin. A grey cat. With the toad the cat was a common 'familiar' or demon-companion of the witch.
10 Paddock. A toad. Opposite: Macbeth and witches. Engraving by Guemier from Pope's Works of Shakespeare, 1728
1955
MACBETH
Act I Scene II
12 Hover. This implies that the witches depart by flying. They probably left by trapdoor, after vanishing first into a 'fog'. Apparently, such fogs and mists were produced by burning resin and could be used to conceal groups of actors or produce darkness. This kind of stageeffect was used to great advantage by Shakespeare in A Midsummer Night's Dream.
9 The merciless .;1,1acdonwald. One of the leaders of the rebellion against Duncan. 13 kerns and gallowglasses. The kern was a light-armed foot-soldier and one of the poorer class of Irish from whom such soldiers were drawn. The gallowglass was a horseman armed with a sharp axe.
19 minion. Favourite.
22 nave to the chaps. Navel to jaw. 26 Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break. This immediately suggests the witches and informs us from what source the danger threatens. It also relates directly to James's personal experience of witchcraft. In IS&) James went to Oslo to marry Anne, daughter of King Frederick of Denmark, and had a stormy voyage across the North Sea. Soon after he and his bride returned to Scotland a number of women were arrested for witchcraft, one of whom declared that she and others had gone to sea in sieves and had tried to raise a storm to wreck the ship in which James had been sailing to I";'orway to fetch his queen. James conducted the preliminary examination of the accused himself and it was on this occasion that he was taken aside by one of the accused women, Agnes Sampson, and told the details of a private conversation he had had with his wife on their marriage night. Soon after this case James began work on his Daemonologie.
Agnes Sampson and her coven. Woodcut from Newes from Scotland, 1591
1956
Tlt.ird Witek. Anon. All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair: • Hover through the fog and filthy air. ScENE II.
10
[Exeuftt.
A camp near Forres.
Alarum witkin, Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, 'luitkAttendants, meeti1tg a bleeding Sergeant. Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state. Mal. This is the sergeant Who like a good and hardy soldier fought 'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! Say to the king l!he knowledge of the broil As thou didst leave it. Ser. Doubtful it stood: As two spent swimmers, that do cling togethet • And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald\Vorthy to be a rebel, for to that 10 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 nameDisdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, • Like valour's minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave; 20 tWhlch 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. Dun. 0 valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Ser. As whence the sun '~s 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, 31 With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men Began a fresh assault. Dzm. Dismay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Ser. 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 memorize another Golgotha, 40 I cannot tell. But I am faint, my gaskes cry for help. Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack. of honour both. Go get him surgeons. [Exit Sergeant, attended. Who comes here ?
Act I Scene III
Enter Ross. Mal.. The worthy thane of Ross. Lm. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak thinis strange. R 08S. . God save the king! Dun. Whence eamest thou, worthy thane? Ross. From Fife, great king; Where the N orweyan banners flout the ski[ And fan our people cold. Norway himse, SO With terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor • The thane ofCawdor, 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. Dun. Great happiness ! R OU. That now • Sweno, the N orways' king, craves composition; Nor would we deign him burial of his men 60 • Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use. Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interes~: go pronounce his present death, • And with his former title greet Macbeth. Ross. I'll see it done. Dun. What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. [Eseunt. ScENE
MACBETH
53 thane of Cawdor. Another rebel, whose title of nobility is later conferred on Macbeth for his exploits in the field. 54 Bellona's bridegroom. Macbeth as Mars, the god of war. lapp'd in proof. Clad in annour. 59 Sweno. A Norwegian king who led an invasion into Scotland, which in history was independent of Macdonwald's rebellion. Shakespeare has united them into one incident. composit.ion. Peace terms. 61 Saint Colme's Inch. Inchcolm, an island in the Firth of Forth. SD Enter the three Witches_ Holinshed describes thewitches as august and auspicious figures and in his illustration of their meeting with Macbeth and Banquo they appear as well-dressed gentlewomen.
III. .A neat! near FOrn!s.
Tlumder.
Enter the three Witches.
First Witek. Where hast thou been, sister! Sec. Witch. Killing swine. Third Witclt.. Sister, where thou! First W itcle. 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-led ronyon cries. Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master 0' the • Ti&'C!: a Sleve I'll thith er sal'1, B ut 1n And, like a rat without a tail, I '11 do, I '11 do, and I'll do. Sec. Witek. I'll give thee a wind. Fint Witclt.. ThOu 'rt kind. Third W ileA. And I another. First Witch. I myselChave all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I' ~e shl~~'s card. I will dratn 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. Sec. Witclt.. Show me show me. First Witck. Here I have a pilot's thumb,
iVlacbeth, Banquo and the witches. Woodcut from Holinshed's Chronicles, 1577 6 Aroint thee. A phrase meaning 'begone'; quite possibly a misprint for 'avaunt' (forward! away). ronyon. A tern of abuse meaning 'scabby, mangy creature'.
10
20
1957
MACBETH
Act I Scene I I I Wreck'd as homeward he did come. [Drum witkin. Third Witch. A drum, a drum I 30 Macbeth doth come. A It. 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 mak.e up nine. Peace! the charm's wound up.
Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. M acb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Forrest What are these So wither'd and so wl1d.in their attire, 40 That look not like the inhabitants 0' the earth, And yet are on'U Live you? or are you aught That man may question? You .seem to understand me, • By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. Mach. Speak, if you can: what~e you! First Witck. All hail, Macbethl hail to thee, thane of Glands! Sec. Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! Tkird W itclt. All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter! SO Ban. 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 prediaion .Of noble having and of royal hope, That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. H you can look. into the seeds of time, And say whlch grain will grow and which win not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 60 Your favours nor your hate. Fint Witclt. Hail! Sec. Witek. Hail! Third Witek. Hail ! Ft'nt Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, andg·l'eater. Sec. Witek. Not so happy, yet much happier. Tkirtl Witek. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! First Witck. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! Mach. Stay, you imperfeCl speakers. tell me more: 'TO .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 prospet\ 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. (Witclt.u vanisk. Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they van· ish'd? 80 Mach. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
•
Painting by Francesco Zuccarelli (1702-88) 33 Posters. Travellers.
38 So foul and fair a day I hat:e not seen. This means 'foul' with regard to the weather and 'fair' with reference to Macbeth's victory. 44 choppy. Chapped, rough. 56 hm:ing. Possession, fortune. 71 Sinel. :Vlacbeth's father.
1958
Act I Scene III As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd ! Ban. Were such things here as we do speak about? • Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? Mach. Your children shall be kings. Ban. You shall be kin~. Mach. And thane of Cawdor toO! went It not so? Raft. 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 90 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 0' the selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout N orweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post with post; and everyone did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd them down before him. A ng: Weare sent roo To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee. • Ross. And, for an earnest ofa greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine. Ban. What, can the devil speak true? Mach. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes? Ang. Who was the thane lives yet; But under heavy judgement bears that life IIO 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. [Aside} Glamis, and thane ofCawdor! Mach. The greatest is behind. [To Ross altd Angus] Thanks for your pains. [To Ban.) Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me Promised no less to them! • Batt. That trusted home 120 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. Macb. [Aside] Two truths are told, • As happy pIologues to the swelling aCt Of the imperial theme.-I thank you, gentlemen. [Aside] This supernatural soliciting 1;30 Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,
MACBETH
84 iI/sane. i.e. causing insanity. 92-93 His wonders . ... thine OJ' his. Duncan's speechless admiration contends with his desire to praise :\Iacbeth.
104 eamest. Pledge. 112 line. Strengthen, support. 120 home. Totally. 128 swelling act. Magnificent experience.
William Charles :\lacr.eady as Macbeth, Theatre Royal, Dnlry Lane, London, 1843
1959
MACBETH
Act I Scene IV
140 single. Individual, weak. function. The normal operations of the mind.
147 Time and the hour Tum through the Toughest day. Whatever is going to happen will happen inevitably.
~l)/·/ .
,
;
I
The palace at Forres. Engraving by Kenny Meadows, from Cornwall's Works of Shakspere, 1846 2 in commission. Assigned the duty. 9 had been studied. Had learnt by heart as for a part in a play.
Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am thane ofCawdor: I f 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 qf man that fundion Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is X4X But what is not.. Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt. Mach. [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir. Ban. New honours come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use. fi.fach. [Aside) Come what come may, • Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. Mach. Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought With things forgotten. Kind gentlem.en, your pains ISO Are register'd where every day I tum 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. Ban. Very gladly. M acb. Till then, enough. COme, friends.
[Exeunt. 10 owed. Owned. SCENE
11 careless. Valueless. 11 -12 There's no art ... the face. It is impossible to determine the nature of a mind by the outward appearance of the face. 16 before. Ahead.
Flourish.
IV.
F"rres.
Tlu palace.
Eluer
DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not • Those in commission yet return'd? Mal. My lieie, 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 hlghness' 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 throwaway the dearest thing he owed, 10 • As 'twere a careless trifle. Dun. There's no art To find the mind's construcnon in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.
Enter MACBETH,
BANQUO,
Ross, ana 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 de. served, That the propnrtion both of thanks a~d payment Might have been mine ! only I have left to say, 20 More is thy due than more than all can pay. M a&o. The service and the loyalty lowe,
1960
ACT I Scene V 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. Dun. 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 30 No less to have done so, let me infold thee And hold thee to my heart. .Ban. There if I f"0w, The harvest is your own. Dun. 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 e~ate upon Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter • The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must Not unaccompanied invest him only, _ 40 But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine • On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, And bind us further to you. • Mach. 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. Dun. My worthy Cawdor! Mach. (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; SO 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.
MACBETH
27 Saje toward. With sure regard to. 36 Alld you whose places are the lIearest. Those who might have wme claim upon the throne.
37 establish our estate. Settle the kingdom. 39 P"ince oj Cumberland. Originally, the crown of Scotland was not inherited. When an heir was chosen during the ruler's life-time, he was sometimes given this title.
42 Im:erllefs.
~1acbeth's
castle·.
44 The rest . .. jor you. Inactidty or leisure is labour. In other words, it is wearying to be doing nothing when 1 could be doing something for you.
45 harbinger. The court official who was sent ahead to arrange accommodation for the king, 52 w;nk at. Seem not to see.
2 perjecleff report. Dr Johnson explains this as 'the best intelligence' . 7 missiY:ef. :.\lessengers.
'9 To catch the lIeaTest way. To take the most expedient way (i.e. murder).
(Exit. Dun. 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. SCENE V. In"llernen. Macbeth's castle. Enter LADV MACBETH, reading a ktter. Lad)' M. 'They met me in the day of success :
• and I have learned by the perfedest 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 comin" 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 greatr.ess is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.' GIamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full 0' the milk of human kindness • To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without 20
1961
MACBETH
Act I Scene V
• The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst
highly, That wouldst thou holily; w~dst 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 whicll 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 30 To have thee crown'd withal.
Enter a Messenger. What is your tidings f The king comes here to-night. Lady M. Thou'rt mad to say it: Mas.
Lady Macbeth with letter. Engraving from the painting by Richard Westall. (1765-1836).
21 illness. Evil or wickedness. 30 metaphysical. Supernatural.
39 raven. Believed to be the herald of misfortune.
5& hereafter. In the future.
69 my dispatch. Lady Macbeth suggests that she will manage the whole affair.
Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, Would have inform'd for preparation. Mess. 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. Lad)' A1. Give him tending: • He bnngs great news. [Exit Messenger. The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 40 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 compunttious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between The effeCt and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And talce my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances 50 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 r
Enter MACBETH. Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor I • Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter I Thy letters have transported me beyond This ignorant present, and I feel now The future in the instant. Mac". My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night. Lady M. And when goes hence? 60 Mac". To-morrow, as he purposes. Lady M. 0, never Shall sun that morrow see ! Your face, my thane, is as a book where men May read strange matters. To ~ile the time, Look like the time; bear welcome m your eye, Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent lmder 'to He that's coming Must be provided for: and you shall put • This night's great business mto my dispatch; Which shall to all our nights and days to come 'JO Give solely sovereign sway and masteroom. 1%2
Act I Scene VI & VII MACBETH .•
M acb. We will speak further. Lady M. Only look up clear; To alter (avour ever is to (ear: Leave all the reSt to me. (Exnmt. SCENE
VI. lhfore MaelJetk's castk.
Hautboys tUld torcltes.
Enter
DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DoNALBAIN. BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, Ross, ANGUS, and Attendants.
DIm. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. Ban. 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 procreantcradle: \Vhere they most breed and haunt, I have observed, The air is delicate.
Enter LADY MACBETH. Dmz. See, see, our honour'd hostess! 10 • 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 M. 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 ole' And the late dignities heap'd up to them, • We rest your hermits. Dun. Where's the thane of Cawdor120 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, Weare your guest to-night. Lady M. 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. Dun. Give me your hand; Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, And shall continue our graces towards him. 30 By your leave, hostess. [Exeunt. ScENE
VII.
72-73 Only lookup clear ... iofear. Lady Macbeth urges her husband to look undisturbed otherwise people might become suspicious.
4 temple-haunting martlet. The house-martin, commonly building its nest in churches.
6 jutty. That part of a building which juts out. 7 coign of vantage. Advantageous comer. 11-14 Tlte love tIJatfollo'WS us . .. yom trouble. Love is sometimes troublesome; but in such situations we try to think of the love and ignore the trouble. By saying this I have taught you to pray to God for the good of those who trouble you.
16 contend. To equal or compete. 20 We l'est your hermits. We feel bound to pray for you. 26 in compi. Subject to account.
SD Sewer. From the French essayeur. The chief steward who serves at table.
Macbetlt's castk.
Hau/boys and torekes. Enter a Sewer, tUtd divers Servants witk diskes and service, and pass over the stage. Then c1tter MACBETH. MtUb. If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well I t 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 \Ve still have judgement here; that we but teach Bloody instruCtions, which, being taught, retum To plai\le the inventor: this even-handed justice
Preparing a banquet. Engraving by Justus Sadeler, after a painting by Antonio Tempesta, 16th century
1963
MACBETH
Act I Scene VII
17 faculties. Powers. 18 dear. Spotless, free from guilt. 19 trumpet-tongued. With voices as clear as trumpet sounds. Z3 sightless couriers of the aU. i.e. the winds.
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; 20 And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Stridmg 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 Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itsel And falls on the other.
onlT
Enter
Portrait of Sarah Siddons, I784, by Horace Hone (175~ 182 5) 59 Wefail! Lady Macbeth's reply is printed as a question in the Folio, but the question mark also served then as an exclamation mark. Mrs Siddons tried 'We fail?' (a scornful echo of his question), then' We fail!' and finally 'We fail.' (the acceptance of the possibility of failure and its consequences). 60 sticking-place. This was the notch on the crossbow into which the string fitted when sufficiently taut or screwed up. 64 convince. Overp~wer. 67 limbeck. A vessel used in distilling alcohol, from alembic.
• •
• • 1964
LADY MACBETH.
How now! what news? Lady M. He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? Macb. Hath he ask'd for me? Lady M. Know you not he has? 30 M acb. We will proceed no further in thls business: He hath honour'd me oflate; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, N tit cast aside so soon. Lady M. Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hatli 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 40 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? M acb. Prithee, peace: r dare do all that may become a man; W'ho dares do more is none. Lady j'rl. What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? ,\Vhen you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would SO 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. M acb. If we should fail? Lady M. We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, 60 And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleepWhereto 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
Act II Scene I
Their drenched natures lie as in a death, What cannot you and I perform 1lpon The unguarded Duncan Y what not put upon 'fO • His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt .or our great quell ? Mtico. 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 M. Who dares receive it other, As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar Upon his death? • M I am settled, and bend up Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. 80 Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. [Exeunt.
MACBETH
71 spongy officers. Drunken chamberlains. 72 quell. Murder .
79-80 bend up Each corporal agent. Strain every muscle.
aco.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Court of Mac!Jetk's castle.
Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE !Jeari"g a torek !Jefore kim. Ban. How goes the night, boy? Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Ban. And she goes down at twelve. Fie. I take't, 'tis later, sir. • - Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead u~n me, And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose 1 Enter MACBETH, and a Servant witlt a torek. Give me my sword. Who's there? 10 M acll. A friend. .Ban. 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. M aco. Being unprepared. • Our will became the servant to defeCt; Which else should free have wrought. Ban. All's well. I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: 20 To you they have show'd some truth. M acb. I think not ofthem : 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. Ban. At your kind'st leisure. M acll. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, I t shall make honour for you. Ban. So I lose none In seeking to a.ugment it, but still keep My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, 1888. Painting by John Singer Sargent (1856-1925)
4 Jnubandry. Thrift. 14 offices. Servants.
18 defect. What is lacking.
1965
MACBETH
Act II Scene II
36-37 sensible To feeling. Tangible.
46 dudgeon. Handles. gouts. Clots. 55 Tarquin. Tarquinius Sextus, who raped Lucrece.
SOIl
of the Roman king,
Lady Macbeth: 'Hark! Peace!' Sarah Siddons as Ladv Macbeth, 1802 .
I shall be counsell'd. Mach. Good repose. the while! Ban. Thanks, sir: the like to you! go [Exeunt Banquo and Fleance. Mac". 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 40 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 0' 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 : I t is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes.. Now o'er the one half-world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse 50 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: 60 W oros to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. [A hell ring's. 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. SCENE
Enter
Lady Macbeth: 'the fatal bellman ... ' Engra,-ing by F. W. Fairholt from a woodcut of 1500, from ]. O. Halliwell's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1853-65 6 charge. Duty. possets. Drink.
1966
II.
The same.
LADY MACBETH.
Lady lIf. That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold: What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. Hark I 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. Mach. [Witkin] Who's there! what, hoI 9 had, M. Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, And 'tls 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.
Act II Scene II
MACBETH
Enter :MACBETH. My husband ! Mach. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise 'I Lady M. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. Did not you speak? Mach. When? Lady M. Now. Mach. As I desc!nded? LadyM. Ay. ]/-1acb. Hark! Who lies i' the second chamber? Lady M. Donalbain. 20 Mac. This is a sorry sight. [Lookillg on kis hands. Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. Mach. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried ' Murder! ' That they did wake each other! I stoodandheard them: But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep. Lady M. There are two lodged together. Mach. 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 M. Consider it not so deeply. 30 lWach. But wherefore could not I pronounce • Amen'? I had most need of blessing, and ' Amen • Stuck in my throat. Lady Jlf. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more' Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, .Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, BaIrn of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast,Lady M. What do you mean ? Mach. Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: 4I 'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more·; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' Lady M. 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 'I They must lie there: go carry them; and smear The sleepy grooms with blood. Jlfach. 1'11 go no more: 50 I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on 't again I dare not. Lady M. 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 '11 ~ild the faces of the grooms withal; . For It must seem their guilt. [Exit. K nockutc wiiAin. Maco. Whence is that knocking?
:Vlacbeth: 'I have done the deed.' Detail from a painting by George Cattermole (1 &00-1 &68)
37 mi:ell'd s/em:e. Tangled tissue. 5& gild. Smear.
Lady Macbeth; 'I'll gild the faces of the grooms .. .' David Garrick as Macbeth and Hannah Pritchard as Lady xlacbeth. Painting by Henry Fuseli, 1812
1967
MACBETH
Act II Scene III How is't with me, when every noise appals me? What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eres. 59 Will al great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
Re-enter LADY MACBETH. Lad)' M. My hands are of your colour; but r
Lady Macbeth: 'Mv hands are of your colour . . .' Judith Anderson a~ Lady Macbeth and Laurence Olivier as Macbeth, Michel St Denis production, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1937
2 old. Sufficient.
>;.'
III.
TII.e same.
K nockt"ng wit"in. Enter a Porter. Porter. Here's a knocking indeed! If a man
[Ojens tIu Kate. {".
/'
,~.~: ~;'I!";~ ..' ' . .-"',.1:
Porter: 'If a man were a porter of hell-gate ... ' Patrick Lynch as the Porter, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1955
1968
SCENE
• were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knockin.{ within. J Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, l' 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'l1 sweat for't. [Knockinc witRin.] Knock, knock I Who's there, in the other devil's name f 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: 0, come in, equivocator. [Knocking witlUn.] Kno.ck, knock, knock! Who's there f Faith, here's an English tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose.. [Knocleingwithin.] Knock, knock; never at quiet! What are you? Butthis 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. [Knocleingwithin.] Anon, anon I I pray you, remember the porter.
68 constancy. Resolution.
....
shame To wear a heart so white. [Knockinrwitltin.) 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 wit"in.) Hark! Jnore knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, 10 And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. Mach. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. [Knocking witkin. Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! [Exeunt.
Enter MACDUFF tJI!d LENNOX• M aed. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie so late? Port. 'Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things. M acd. What three things does drink especially provoke? 30 Port. 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 hl: 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
Act II Scene III him stand to, and Dot stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. 40 Macti. I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. Port. 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. Maca. Is thy master stirring?
Elltn' MACBETH. Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. Len. Good morrow, noble sir. M acb. Good morrow, both. Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane? Macb. Not yet. 50 Macd. He did command me to call timely on him: I have almost slipp'd the hour. M acb. I 'n bring you to him. Macd. I know this is a joyful trouble to you; But yet 'tis one. M acb. The labour we delight in physics pain. This is the door. M acd. I'll make so bold to call, .For 'tis my limited service. [Exit. Len. Goes the king hence to-day? .if-facb. He does: he did appoint so. Len. 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, 61 And prophesying with accents terrible Of dire combustion and confused events • N ew hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscnre bird Clamour'd the Hve1ongnight: some say, the earth Was feverous and did shake. M acb. 'Twas a rough night. Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to It. Re-enter MACDUFF. Macd. 0 horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart Cannot conceive nor name thee ! Macb.} What's the matter? 70 Len. M acd. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece I Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope • The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life 0' the building! M acb. What is't you say? the life? Len. Mean you his majesty? Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight • With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; See, and then speak yourselves. [Exeunt Mac6etA and Lennox. Awake, awake! Ring the alarum-belL Murder and treason I Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! 80 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.
MACBETH
46 made a shift. :\1anaged. cart him. A pun on 'throw' and 'throw up'.
57 limited. Appointed. 64 obscure bird. Owl.
Lennox: 'the obscure bird Clamour'd .. .' ,.voodeut from a 12th century Latin bestiary
73 anointed temple. i.e. King's body .
:\1acdonald: ' . . . murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple'. '~loodeut of Dunean from Holinshed's Chrunicles, I S77
77 Gorgon. Nlythieal monster, turning one to stone.
1969
MACBETH
Act II Scene III
Enter LADY MACBETH. Lady M. What '5 the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleepers of the house? speak, speak ! Mactl. 0 gentle lady, 'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: The repetition, in a woman's ear, go Would murder as it fell.
Enter BANQUO.
o Banquo, Banquo, Our royal master '5 murder'd! Lady M. Woe, alas! What, in our house? Ban. Too cruel any where. Dear Duff, I prithee, contradid thyself, And say it is not so.
Macbeth: 'renown and grace is dead .. .' Charles Kean as Macbeth. Drawing by R. J. Lane from a portrait by Edward Chalon, 1840
100 the mere lees. Only the dregs. 117 pauser. i.e. giving pause. 122 breech'd. Covered.
Lady Macbeth: 'Help me hence, hoI' Sarah Bernhardt as Lady Macbeth, Gaiety Theatre, London, 1884
128 auger-hole. Tiny hole. 1970
Re-enter MACBETH and LENNox, 'Witlt ROSs. M adJ. 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 1S dead; • The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees :roo Is left this vault to brag of.
Enter MALCOLM and DoNALBAIN. D(1n. What is amiss? M ac6. 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 storp'd. Macd. Your royal father's murderd. Mal. 0, by whom! Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't: Their hands and faces were all 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. ru Jl1'acb. 0, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them. M acd. Wherefore did you so, Macb. Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment! No man: The expedition of my violent love .Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin laced with his golden blood; And his gash'd stab... 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 Jove, and in that heart Courage to make's love known 1 Lady M. Help me hence, ho! Macd. Look to the lady. Mal. [Aside to Don.] Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours 1 D(}1t. [Aside to Mal.] What should be spoken here, where our fate, • Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us! Let's away; %29 Our tears are not yet brew'd. Mal. [Aside to Don.] Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion.
Act II Scene IV
Ban.
Look to the lady: [Lad)' Macktk 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. M acd. And so do I. AIL So all. Mach. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet j' the hall together. All. Well cont~nted. 140 [Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. Mal. What will you do? Let's not consort with them: To show an unfelt sorrow is an office 'Vhich the false man does easy. I'll to England. Don. 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. Mal. 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 lea"'e-taking, 1,50 But shift away: there's warrant in that theft Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. [Exeunt. SCENE
IV.
Outside Macbeth's castk.
MACBETH
4 trifled. Reduced to a trifle.
7 trll'l.:elling lamp. Sun.
Ross: ' ... night strangles the travelling lamp.' Engraving from R. Fludd, Utriusque Cosmi ....Iletaphysica, 1617
15 minions. Favourites.
Enter Ross and an old Man. Old M. 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 M. 'Tis unnatural, 10 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, Tum'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending ,gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind. Old ,1£. 'Tis said they eat each other. R 03S. They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. 20 Enter MACDUFF. How goes the world, sir, now? M acd. Why, see you not? 1971
MACBETH
Act III Scene I
Glamis Castle. Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of Shakspere, 1839-43
24 suborn'd, Bribed. Z8 rm'in, Swallow.
Ross. Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? Mdcd. Those that Macbeth hath slain. Ross. Alas, the day I e What good could they pretend? Macd. They were subom'd: Malcolm and Donalbain, the Jc!11lg's two sons, Are stol'n away and fled; which·puts upon them Suspicion of the deed. Ross. 'Gainst D+ture still! eThriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. 30 Macd. He is already named, and gone to Scone To be invested. Ross. Where is Duncan's body? 11·facd. Carried to Colmekill, The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, And guardian of their bones. Ross. Will you to Scone? Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife. Ross. Well, I will thither. Macd. Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! Lest our old robes sit easier than our new I Ross. Farewell, father. Old M. God's benison go with you; and with those 40 That would make good of bad, and friends of foes ! [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE
1. Forres.
The jalace.
Enter BANQUO. Ban. 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 mysdf should be the root and father Of many kings. If there come truth from themAs upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shineWhy, 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. 10 Banquo: 'Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glarnis, all.' Peter Jeffrey as Banquo and Eric Porter as Macbeth, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1962
1972
Sennet sOtl1lded.
Enter MACBETH, as kutg, as queen, LENNOX, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants. Macb. Here's our chief guest. Lady M. If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming. Macb. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir, And I 'll request your presence. Ba1l. Let your highness Command upon me; to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie For ever knit. Macb. Ride you this afternoon? Ban. Ay, my good lord. 20 Mach. 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. 1s't far you ride? LADY MACBETH,
Act III Scene I
BaN. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 'Twb:t this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night For a dark hour or twain. Mach. Fail not our feast. BaN. My lord, I will not. Macb. We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd 30 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? BaN. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon's. lWach. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; And 50 I do commend you to their backs. [Exit Banquo. Farewell. 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 hut .lfacbetlt, and aN aitmdant. Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men Our pleasure? Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace gate. Mach. Bring them before us. [Exit Attmdant. To be thus is nothing; But to be safely thus.-Our fears in Banquo Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature 50 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 beilli I do fear: and, under him, My Genius 1S rebuked; as, it is said. Mark Antony's was by Cresar. He chid the sisters When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like They bail'd him father to a line of kings : 60 Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, And put a barren soeptre 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; F or them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; Put rancours in the yessel of my pe.ace Only for them; and mine eternal jewel Given to the common enemy of man, To make them kings., the seed of Banquo kings! 70 Rather than so, come fate into the list, • And champion me to the utterance! Who's there?
:MACBETH
65 filed. Defiled.
.0
:VIacbeth: 'For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind.' Genealogical tree tracing James VI of Scotland, I of England. back to Banquo 72
utteI'G11Ct!.
Fight to the death.
Re-enter Attendant, witlt two Murderers. Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. [Exit Attmda1lt. 'Vas it not yesterday we spoke together? First Mur. It was, so please your highness. M acb. \Vell then, now Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
1973
MACBETH
Act III Scene I
94 Shoughs. Shaggy dogs. u:ater-I"ugs. Coarse-haired dogs. clf!pt. Called.
Macbeth: 'Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves are dept All by the name of dogs.' Water spaniel. from Edward Topsell. The History of Four-footed Beasts. 16 58
100 addition. Title. bill. List.
112 tugg'd. Mauled. 114 mend.lmproye. 120
Cl'Vollcll.
197.4
Admit.
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, 80 How you were bome 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.' Fz'rst Mur. You made it known to us. Macb. 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 Mur. We are men, my liege. 91 Macb. 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 IOO 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 perfetto Sec. ll.fur. I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what IIO I do to spite the world. First Mur. And I another • So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, • To mend it, or be rid on't. M acb. Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy. Both. Mitr. True, my lord. M acb. 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 \Vith barefaced power sweep him from my sight • And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, I20 For certain friends that are both his and mine, \Vhose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall \Vho 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. Sec. Mur. We shall, my lord, Perform what you cOlnmand us. First i}.fur. Though our lives~l.facb. 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, 130
Act I II Scene II 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 himTo leave no rubs nor botches in the workFleance 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: 1'11 come to you anon. Botlt. Mur. We are resolved, my lord. M acb. I'll call upon you straight: abide within. [Exeultt Murderers. Y40 It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exit. ScENE
II.
MACBETH
13 scotch'd. Wounded.
22 ecstasy. Madness. 25 l\.falice . .. lev}'. Civil or foreign wars.
Tke palace.
Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant. Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court! Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his
. leisure For a few words. Serv. Madam, I will. [Exit. Lady M. Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content: 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than by destruttion 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 YO With them they think on? Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what's done is done. • Mach. 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 afllidion 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 2X • 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 M. Come on; Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; 30 Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: tUnsafe 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 M. You must leave thi'l. Mach. 0, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Macbeth: 'Malice domestic ... nothing, Can touch him further.' Charles Laughton as :Vlacbeth and Flora Robson as Lady :\-lacbeth, Old Vic Theatre, London, I934
33 lm·e. Wash. 34 'vizards. ),Iasks.
1975
MACBETH
Act III Scene III
42 shard-borne. Hatched from dung.
46 seeling. Blinding.
Second Murderer: 'A light, a light!' Illustration by Hawes Craven, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1888
Lady M. But in them nature's copy1s not ereme. Maco. There's comfort yet; they are aSsailable; Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown 40 His cloisterd 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 M. What's to be done? M aeD. 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 1 Light thickens; and the crow SO Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin tp droop and drowse; Whiles 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. ScENE
III. A park near tIte palace.
Enter three Murderers. First Mur. But who did bid theejoin with us? Third Mur. Macbeth. Sec. Mur. He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just. First Mur. 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. Tltird Mur. Hark! I hear horses. Ban. [With,;,] Give us a light there, ho! Sec. Mur. Then 'tis he: the rest That are within the note of expeCtation 10 Already are i' the court. First Mur. His horses go about. Third ,tlf'ur. Almost a mile: but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk. Sec. Mur. A light, a light I Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE witlt a torclt. Third Mur. 'Tis he. First Mur. Stand to't. Ban. It will be rain to-night. First Mur. Let it come down. [TM)' set upon Banquo. Ban. 0, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge. 0 slave! [Dies. Fleance escapes. ThirdMur. Who did strike out the light? First Mur. Was't not the way! Tltird Mur. There's but one down; the son is fled. Sec. Mur. We have lost 20 1976
Act III Scene IV
MACBETH
Best half of our affair. First M"ur. Well, let's away, and say how much is done. (ExemJt.
IV. Tlu same. Hall in Ike palace. A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, Ross, LENNOX, Lords, alJd AttendScENE
ants. M aclJ. You know your own degrees; sit down: at first And last the hearty welcome. Lords. Thanks to your majesty. M aclJ. Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. e Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time 'Ve will require her welcome. Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome.
First Murderer appears at Ike door." MaclJ. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: 10 Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure The table round. [Approaching tJu door.] There's blood upon thy face. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's then. M aclJ. 'Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch'd? Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. Mach. Thou art the best 0' the cut-throats: yet he '5 good That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, Thou art the nonpareil. Mur. Most royal sir, Fleance is 'scaped. 20 MaclJ. 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 eTo saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature. MaclJ. Thanks for that: There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, 30 No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: tomorrow We'll hear, ourselves, again. [Exit Mtsrderer. Lady M. My royal lord You do not give the cheer: the feast is soid 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. Mach. Sweet remembrancer! Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both 1 Len.. May't please your highness sit. [Tke Gkost of Ba1Jquo enters, and sits in M achet,,"'s place.
Banquet scene. Illustration by Hawes Craven, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1888 5 state. Throne.
25 saucy. Insolent.
Violet Vanbrugh as Lady Macbeth, Garrick Theatre, London, 1906
MACBETH
Act III Scene IV
40 roofd. Complete.
60 0 proper stuff! That's marvellous!
Lady Macbeth: '0 proper stuff!' Margaret Webster as Lady Macbeth and Malcolm Keen as Macbeth, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1932-33.
71 charnel-houses. \Vhere bones from graveyards were kept.
•
M acb. Here had we now our country's honour roofd, 40 'Vere the graced perSQn 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. lI.facb. The table's full. Len. Here is a place reserved, sir. M acb. Where? Len. Here, my good lord. \Vhat is't that moves your highness? Mach. Which o(you have done this! Lords. What, my good lord? Macb. Thou canst not say I dId it: never shake so Thy gory locks at me. Ross. Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. Lad), M. 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? Mach. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil. • Lad)' M. proper stuff! 60 This is the very painting of your fear : This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, Led you to Duncan. 0, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire, Authorized by her grandaIr... Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all's done, You look but on a stool. Mach. Prithee, see there! behold! look I 10! how say you? Why, what care I Y If thou canst nod, speak too • • If charnel-houses and our graves must send 71 Those that we bury back, our monuments Shall be the maws of kites. [Gkost'lJanislus. Lady M. What, quite unmann'd in folly? Mach. If I stand here, I saw him. Lad)' M. Fie, for shame! Mac6. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, 80 With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: this is more strange Than such a murder is. Lad)' M. My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you. .Mac6. I do forget. Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends ;I have a stranie infirmity, which is Dothini 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 g'eneral joy 0' the whole table. 8g
°
1978
Act III Scene IV And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; \Vould he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, And all to all. Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. Re-enter Ghost. e Maco. Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; eThou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with! Lady M. Think of this, good peers, But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. M aco. What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, loo eThe 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 ; t If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, hence! . [Ghost vanishes. V{hy, so: being gone, I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. Lady M. You ha\'e dIsplaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, With most admired disorder. M aco. Can such things be, lIO And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that lowe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine is blanch'd with fear. R OS3. What sights, my lord? Lady M. 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. Lm. Good night; and better health 12O Attend his majesty! Lady M. A kind good night to all ! [Exeunt all but 111acbeth and Lady .iVI. Maco. It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; Augurs and understooo relations have eBy magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth The secret'st man of blood. \Vhat is the night? Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which. Maco. How say'st thou, that Macduff' denies his person At our great bidding? Lady M. Did you send to him, sir? Mace. I hear it by the way; but I will send: There's not a one of them but in his house 131 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 benttoknow, 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,
MACBETH
93 Avaunt. Away.
95 speculation. Sight. 101 Hyrcan. Persian.
AT ONCE GOOD NIGHT Lady Macbeth. Illustration by Byam Shaw, The Chim';ck Shakespeare 1899 125 magot-pies. Magpies. chaugh. Another species of cro"\v.
1979
MACBETH
1980
Act III Scene IV
Act III Scenes V & VI 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. Ladyllf. You lack. the season of all natures, sleep. I41 iJlacb. 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
Z beldams. Hags.
15 Aclleron. River in Hell.
A HeatA. Tkwuier. Enter tke three Witches, meeting HECATE. First Witch. Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. • Hee. Have I not reason, beldams as you are, Sau·cy 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 caU'd to bear my part, Or show the glory of our art? And, which is worse, all you ha'¥Q done 10 Hath been but for a \t-ayward 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 20 Unto a dismal and a fatal end: Great business must be wrought ere noon: Upon the comer 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 30 His hopes 'hove wisdom, grace and fear : And you aU know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy. [Music and a StJltg within: • Come away, ..:orne away,' &c. Hark! I am caU'd; my little spirit, see, Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. [Exit. First Witek. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back. again. [Exomnt. SCENE
SCE..... E VI.
V.
Ftwres.
The palace.
Enter LENNOX and another Lord. Len. 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, lOU 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
Opposite: The Weird Sisters. Engraving by Richard Westall (1765-1836)
1981
MACBETH
Act IV Scene I
13 thralls. In bondage to. 29 respect. Reputation.
1 blinded. Brindled, i.e. tabby. 2 hedge-pig. Hedgehog. 3 Harpier. Familiar.
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father? damned fact! 10 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? 'Vas not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive To he.ar 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 keyAs, an't ple.ase heaven, he shall not-they should find What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. 20 But, pe.ace! for from broad words and 'cause he faiI'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 ~race That the malevolence of fortune nothmg .Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid 30 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. Len. Sent he to Macduff? Lord. He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' 40 The cloudy messenger tUrDS me his back, And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time That clogs me with this answer.' Len. . 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! LtJrti. I'll send my prayers with him.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV. SCENE
I. A cavern.
h, the middle, cattldro1t.
II
hoiling
•
Thunder. Eltter tlee three Witches. First Witck. Thrice the brinded cat hath
•
Sec. Witck.
mew'd.
Thrice and once the hedge-pig
whined.
•
Third J.Vitck.
Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis
time.
First Witch. Round about the cauldron go; In the poison'd entrails throw. tToad, that under cold stone Days and nights has thirty one Swelter'd venom sleeping got, Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. 1982
Act IV Scene I
•
•
•
All. Double, double toil and trouble; 10 Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. Sec. Witck. 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 howlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. All. Double, double toil and trouble; 20 Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Third Witch. Scale of dragoB a tooth of wolf, Witches' mummy, maw and gulf Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, Root of hemlock dfgg'd j' the dark, Liver ofbb.spheming Jew, Gall of goat, and slips of 'lew Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse, Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, Finger of birth-strangled babe 30 Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, Make the gruel thick and slab: Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, For the ingredients of our cauldrQll. A II. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Sec. Wt'teh. Cool it with a baboon's blood, Then the charm is firm and good.
Ellter HECATE to tke other thr(e Witches. Hee. 0, well done! I commend your pains; And everyone shall share i' the gains: 40 And now about the cauldron sing, Like elves and fairies in a ring l Enchanting all that you put in. [M,Uic end a St»lg: 'Black spirits,' &c. [Hecate retz'res. Sec. ~Viteh. By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, Whoever knocks!
MACBETH
17 //Qulet. Owl.
24 ravin'd. Ravenous. 33 challdmll. Entrails.
53
)!esty.
Foaming.
55 lodged. Flattened. 59
{!ermells.
Seeds.
The Witches. Painting by Alexandre Gabriel Decamps ( 1803-60)
ElZter MACBETH. lI/neb. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! What is't you do! All. A deed without a name. ill.ub. I conjure you, by that which you profess, 50 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 60 To what I a!;k you. First Witch. Speak. Sec. Witclt. Demand. Third Witch. We'll answer. First Witch. Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
1983
MACBETH
Act IV Scene I
74 harp'd. Struck.
Or from our masters? Alacb. Call 'em; let me see 'em. F£rst l¥itch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten From the murderer's gibbet throw Iuto the flame. A II. Come, high or low; Thyself and office deftly show!
Thunder. Fint Apparition: an armed Head. Irlacb. Tell me, thou unknown power,F£rst Witch. He knows thy thought: Hear his speech, but say thou nought. 70 First App. ··l\1acbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. [Descends. Alaeb. \Vhate'erthou art, forthygoodcaution, thanks; • Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one word more,First JVitch. He will not be commanded: here's another, More potent than the first. Thunder. Second Apparition: a bloody Cldld. Sec. App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Macb. Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. Sec. Ajp. Be bloody, bold, aud.resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born 80 Shall harm Macbeth. [Descmds. Macb. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee ? Bllt yet I '11 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.
,Vlacbeth: 'What is this That rises like the issue of a king ... ' Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, 1773 91 chafes. Becomes angry.
95 impress. Conscript. SD Hautooys. Oboes.
1984
Third Apparition: a Child cro'lvtzed, witl, a tree ill his ha1td. 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 'to Third Ap}. Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care go • Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are : Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until Great Bimam wood to high Dunsinane hill Shall come against him. [Descends. Mach. That will never be! • Who can impress the forest, bid the tree Unfix his earth-bound root? Swee.: bodements! good! Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood Of Bimam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath To time and mortal custom. Yet my: heart 100 Throbs to know one thing: tell me, If your art Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever Rcign in this kingdom? A II. Seek to know no more. Afacb. I will be satisfied: deny me this, And an cternal curse fall on you! Let me know. Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? [Hautboys.
Act IV Scene I First Witek. Show! Sec. Witch. Show! Third Witch. Show! A II. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; Come like shadows, so depart!
MACBETH
110
A snO'W of Eigltt Kings, tke last with a glass in his hand; Batlquo'S Ghost/ollowitzg. Mac". 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 ~eventh! I'll see no more: And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass Which shows me many more; and some I see 120 .That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry: Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; .For the blood-holter'd Banquo smiles upon me, And points at them for his. [Apparitiolls vanish.] What, is this so? First Witek. Ay, sir, all this is so: but why Stands Macbeth thus am.'lzedly? Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, And show the best of Ollr delights : I 'Ilcharm the air to give a sound, eWhile you perform your antic round; 130 That this great king may kindly say, Our duties did his welcome pay. [Music. Tke Witches dance, altd tken vanisk, with Hecate. Mach. Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour Stand aye accursed in the calendar! Come in, without there! Eni£r
Macbeth: 'Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down!' Watercolour by Charles Cattermole (1832-1900)
1Z1 tv:o ... sceptres. i.e. orbs and sceptres of Scotland and England.
123 bolter'd. Smeared.
130 antic. Fantastic. 147 firstlings. First born.
LENNOX.
What's your grace's will? Len. Mac". Saw you the weird sisters? Len. No, my lord. M acb. c.1.me they not by you? Len. No, indeed, my lord. Mach. 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? 140 Lell. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word Macduff is fled to England. Mac". Fled to England! Len. Ay, my good lord. Macb. 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 ads, he it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise; 150 Seize upon Fife; give to the edge 0' the sword His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool: 1985
MACBETH
Act IV Scene II This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. But no more sights !-\Vhere are the&e gentlemen? Come, bring me where they are. [Exeunt. SCENE
Lady Macduff: 'Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.' Drawing by Henry Singleton (1766-1839)
36 set for. Sought by trappers.
1986
II,
Fife.
Macduff's castle.
Enter LADY IHACDUFF, her Son, and Ross. L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the land? Ross. You must have patience, madam. L. Macd. 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. L. Macd. \Visdom! 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 natur~l touch: for the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 10 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, wi&e, judicious, and best knows The fits 0' the season. I dare not speak much further; But cruel are the times, when we are traitl)rs And do not know our&elves, when we hold rum our From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, But float upon a wild and violent sea 2I 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! L. 1l1acd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. R (}ss. 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. L.llfacd. Sirrah, your father's dead: 30 And what will you do now? How will you live? Son. As birds do, mother. L. Macd. \Vhat, with worms and flies? Sotl. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. L. M acd. 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. L. M aCt!. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for a father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. llfacd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. 40 Son. Then you'n buy'em to sell again. L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith, With wit enough for thee. SOil. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. Ay, that he was. S01l. '\That is a traitor? L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
Act IV Scene III And be all traitors that do so? L. Maca. Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. 50 SOli. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? L. ilfaca. Every one. Son. Who must hang them? L. lI-laca. 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. L. lI-faca. Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father? 60 Son. I f 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. L. ~lfacd. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! SOft.
Enter a Me"senger. lIfess. 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: Tfyou 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; 70 To do worse to you were fell cruelty, Which i" too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! I dare abide no longer. [Exit. L. Maca. Whither should I fiy? T 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?
MACBETH
66 perfect. Fully aware. 4 birthdom. Mother-land.
:vr urder of !VIacduff's family. Woodcut from Holinshed's Chronicles, 1577
Enter Murderers. What are these faces? First 11-1211". Where is your husband? 80 L. Maca. I hope, in no place so unsanClified \Vhere such as thou mayst find him. First Mur. He's a traitor. Son. Thou liest, thou sbag-hair'd villain! First Mur. What, YOll e:;g! [Stabbillg Ilim. Young fry of treachery! SOIl. He has kill'd me, mother: Run away, I pray you! [Dies. [Exit Lady .lfacdtiff, crying' :'Ilurder!' Exelmt .1111rderers, following her. SCENE
III. E1lg1mld. Before the Killg'spalace.
Enter l\IALCOL:lI ana MACDUFF. "lolal. Let llS seek out some desolate sh.1.de, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. klacd. 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 heayen on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out Like syllable of dolour. Mal. What I believe 1'11 wail, What know believe, and what I can redress, As I shall find the time to friend, I will. 10
1987
MACBETH
Act IV Scene III
34 afJeer'd. Confirmed. 58 Luxurious. Lascivious. 64 continent. Chaste.
1988
\Vhat 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 bath 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. Itfacd. I am not treacherous. Mal. But Macheth is. A good and virtuous nature may recoil In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; 20 That which you are my thoughts CRllllot transpose: Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell: Though all things foul would W(,M the brOW& of grace, Yct grace must still look so. Macd. I ha"e lost my hopes. Mal. Perchance even there where 1 did find my doubts. Why in that rawness left you wife and child, Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, 'Vithout leave-taking? I pray you, Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, 29 But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, Whatever I shall think. Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dare not check thee ~ wear thou thy "'Tongs; • 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. Ivlal. 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 40 I s 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. \Vhen 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 ~undry ways than ever, By hiin that shall succeed. Jlfacd. What should he bd flfal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know 50 All the particulars of vice so grafted That, when they shall be open'd, black l\Iac1reth Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state Esteem him as a Jamb, being compared 'Vith my confineless harms. Irfacd. Not in tbe legions Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd In evils to top Macbeth. Mal. I grant him bloody• • Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name: but there's no bottom, none. 60 In my voluptuousness : yourwives, 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 all one to reign.
Act IV Scene II I
Macd. 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 70 Convey your pleasures in a spacious p1enty, And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood wink. We have willing dames enough: there cannot be That vulture in you, to devour so many As will to greatuess dedicate themselves, Finding it so inclined. lIfal. 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: fo And my more-having would be as a sauce To make me hunger more; that I should forge Quarrels unj ust against the good and loyal, Destroying them for wealth. llfacd. This avarice Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious rODt 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, \Vith other graces weigh'd. 90 Mal. 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. Kay, had I power, I shollld Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth. Macd. 0 Scotland, Scotland! 100 Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live. 0 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 fathe:\Yas amost sainted king : the queen that bore thee, Oftener upon her knees than on her feet, no Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself Have banishod me from Scotland. 0 my brea~t, Thy hope ends here! Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul \Yiped the black scruples, reconciled my thol1~htets. EnterAGRIPPA and otlters. Aer. Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: Cresar himself has work, and our oppression Exceeds what we expeCted. [Exeunt. Alarums. Enter ANTONY, and ScARUS wounded. Scar. 0 my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! Had we done so at first, we had droven them home With clouts about their heads. Ant. Thou bleed'st apace. Scar. I had a wound here that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H. A nt. They do retire. • Scar. We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet • Room for six scotches more. 10 Enter EROS. Eros. They are beaten, sir; and our advantage serves For a fair vittory. Scar. Let us score their backs, And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: 'Tis sport to maul a runner. A "t. I will reward thee Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold For thy good valour. Come thee on. Scar. I'll halt after. [Exeunt. Antony: 'We have beat him to his camp.' Costume design by lVlotley, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1953 2 gests. Actions. 7 HectoT. Legendary Trojan champion.
2056
SCENE
VIII.
Under tJt.e walls of Alexandria.
Alarum. Enter ANTONY, in a marclt; ScARUS, wit!, others. Ant. 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 Hec10rs. 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 10 The honour'd gashes whole. [To Scarus] Give me thy hand; Enter CLEOPATRA, attended. To this great fairy I'll commend thy ads, Make her thanks bless thee. [To Cleo.] 0 thou day o' the world,
Act IV Scene IX Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, • Through proof of harness to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing! Cleo. Lord oflords! o infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from The world's great snare uncaught? Ant. My nightingale, We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! though grey Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we 20 A brain that nourish~s 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. C/eo. 1'11 give thee, friend, An armour all of gold; it was a king's. • Ant. He has deserved it. were it carbuncled Like holy Phrebus' car. Give me thy hand: Through Alexandria make a jolly march: 30 .Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: Had our great palace the capacity To camp this host, we all would sup together, And drink carouses to the next day's fate, Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, With brazen din blast you the city's ear; Make mingle with our rattling tabourines; That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, Applauding our approach. [Exeunt. 39 ScENE
IX.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
15 prafJj oj harness. Strong armour .
28 carbuncled. Jeweled.
CfEsars camp.
Sentinels ai tkeir jast. First Sold. 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. Sec. Sold. This last day was .A shrewd one to's.
Enter ENOBARBUS. Eno. 0, bear me witness, night,Third Sold. What man is this? Sec. Sold. Stand close, and list him. Eno. Be witness to me, 0 thou blessed moon, When men revolted shall upon record Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did Before thy face repent! First Sold. Enobarbus ! Third Sold. Peace! 10 Hark further. Eno. 0 sovereign mistress of true melancholy, .The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, That life. a very rebel to my will, May hang 110 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. 0 Antony, Nobler than my revolt is infamous, Forgive me in thine own particular: 20 .But let the world rank me in regx!.ter A master-leaver and a fugitive: o Antony! 0 Antony! [Din.
Charles Coghlan as Antony and Lily Langtry as Cleopatra, Princess's Theatre, London, 1890
31 targets. Shields. 5 shrewd. Bad. 13 dispollge. Drip.
21 register. History.
2057
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act IV Scenes X, XI & XII
Romans in battle. Engraving from a design for a basrelief by Raphael, 18 I I
ZS Taught. Reached.
8 appointment. Deployment. 1 But. Unless, but for.
8 fretted. Worn.
Sec. Sold. Let's speak To him. First Sold. Let's hear him, for the things he speaks May concern C~sar. Third Sold. Let's do so. But he sleeps. First Sold. Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his \Vas never yet for sleep. Sec. Sold. Go we to him. Tltird Sold. Awake, sir, awake: speak to us. Sec. Sold. Hear you, sir? • First Sold. The hand of death hath raught him. [Drums afar I?ff.] Hark! the drums Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him 31 To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour Is fully out. Tltird Sold. Come on, then: He may recover yet. [Exeunt wille tke body. SCENE
X. Between the tw() camps.
Enter ANTONY and ScAR US, witlt tkeir Army. Ant. Their preparation is to-day by sea; We please them not by land. Scar. For both, my lord. Ant. 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; tThey have put forth the haven ••• • Where their appointment we may best discover, And look on their endeavour. [Exeunt. 9
XI. Anotlur part 0/ the same. Enter C..£SAR, tUtd Ius Army. But being charged, we will be still by
ScENE
•
CteS. land, Which, as I take't, we ahall; for his best force Is forth to. man his galleys. To the vales, And hold our best advantage. [Exeunt. ScENE
XII.
A,1Ul/her part t!I tke same.
Enter ANTONY and SCAR US. Ant. 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. Scar. Swallows have built In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers Say they know not, they cannot tell: look grimly, And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony Is valiant, and dejeCted; and. by starts, • His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear. Of what he has, and has not. [A/RrNnt afar off, as at a setI-figkl. Re-ente,. ANTONV, A m. All is lost: This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me:
10
My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder They cast their caps up and carouse together Like friends long lost. Triple-tum'd whore! 'tis thou Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly:
2058
Act IV Scenes XIII & XIV For when I am revenged upon my charm, I have done all Bid them all fiy; begone.
o sun, thy uprise shall I
[Esit SctU"US.
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 2I • Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets On blossoming Cresar; and this pine is bark'd, That overtopp'd them all Betray'd I am: o this false ~oul of Egypt! this grave charm,Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and calrd 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! 30 Cleo. Why is my lord enraged against his love? Ant. Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, And blemish Cresar's triumph. Let him take thee, And hoi~t thee up to the shouting plebeians: Follow his chariot, like the gr.eatest spot Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown .For poorst diminutives, for -doits; and let Patient OCtavia plough thy visage up With her prepared nails. rEsit Cleopatra. 'TIs well thou'rt gone, If it be well to live: but better 'twere 40 Thou fell'st in1:o my fury, for one death Might have prevented many. Eros; ho! • The shirt of N essus is upon me: teach me, .Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: Let me lodge Lichas on the horns 0' the moon: And with those hand~ 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: shediesfor't. Eros, hot [Esit. SCENE
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
22 discandy. Dissolve. 37 doits. Fractions of a farthing.
Egyptian soldiers. Nineteenth century engraving from a waH painting in an Egyptian tomb 43 of Nessus. i.e. bloodstained. 44 Alcides. Hercules.
2 Telamon. Ajax Telamon, who killed himself for failing to win the shield of Achilles for bravery. boar. Alludes to the legend that Diana sent a boar to ravage Thes.saly. 3 emboss'd. Foaming at the mouth.
XIIl. Alexandritl.. Cleopatra's palace.
Enter CLEOPATRA,
CHARMIAN, IRAS, MARDIAN.
and
Cleo. Helpme, my women! 0, he is more mad • Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly .Was never roo emboss,'d. Char. To the monuDlent! There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness gomg off. Cleo. To the monument I Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself: Say, that the last I !>poke was •Antony,' And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Ma.rd.ian, And bring me how he takes my death. To the monument I [EsnuU. 10 SCENE
XIV. Tlu same. Anotlur room. Enter ANTONY and ERos.
A nt. Eros, thou yet behold'st me' Eros. Ay, Doble lord.
Z059
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act IV Scene XIV
10 Tack. Clouds. dislimns. Fades away. 14 knave. Boy.
Ant. Sometime 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 th~ signs;
They are black vesper's pageants. Eros. Ay, my lord. An/. That which is now a horse, even with a thought • The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, 10 As water is in water. Eros. I t does, my lord. Ant. My good knave Eros, now tby captain is Even such a body: here I am Antony: • Yet cannot hold this visible shape, F,y 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 Czsar, and false-play'd my glory Unto an enemy's triumph. 20 Nay, weep nQt, gentle Eros; there is left us Ourselves to end ourselves.
Enter MARDIAN.
Antony: . U nann, Eros: the long day's task is done, And we must sleep.' H. Beerbohm Tree as Antony, His Majesty's Theatre, London, I()06 40 continent. i.e. body.
2060
O. thy vile lady I She has robb'd me of my sword. Mar, No, Antony; My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled With thine entirely. Ant Hence. saucy eunuch; peace! She hath betray'd me and sballdie the death. Mar. Death ofone 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 A ntony I' 30 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 !oo buried in her. . A nt. Dead, then? Mar. Dead. A nt. Unarm, Eros: the long dalCs task is done, And we must steep. [To Mar.] That thou depart'&~ hence safe, Does pay thy labour richly; go. [Exit Mart/ian. Off, pluck off: The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep The battery from my heart. O. cleave, my gdes! .Heart, pnce he stronger than thy continent, +0 Crack thy frail case! Apace, Ero!>, apace. No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. [Exit Eros. 1 win o'erta1ce thee, Oeopatra, 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 Jabour Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles. Itself with strength: ~al then, and all is done. Eros !-I come, my queen :-Eros I-Star for me: Where souls do couch on flowers, we '1 hand in hand, 51 And with OUT sprightly port make the ghosts gaze:
Act IV Scene XIV • Dido and her iEneas shall want troops, And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros!
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
53 Dido and rEneas. Legendary lovers; the queen of Carthage and the mythical founder of Rome. want troops. Lack admirers. .
Re-enter EROS. Eros. What would my lord? Ani. Since Cleopatra died, I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods Detest my ba5ene.ss. 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; le&"S noble mind 60 Than she which by her death our Cresar 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 Ca:sar thou defeat'st. Put colour in thy cheek. Eros. The gods withhold me! Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, 10 Though enemy, lost aim, and could not?
Ag
E~
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 Ca:sar, drawn before him, branded His baseness that ensued? Eros. I would not see't. Ant. Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. Draw that thy honest sword, which thott hast worn Most useful for thy country. Ero.r. 0, sir, pardon me! 80 Ant. 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. Tum from me, then, that noble countepance, Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. Ant. Lo thee! [Turningfrom Ai,n. Eros. My sword is drawn. A ,..t. 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, 90 Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. Ant. 'Tis said, man; and farewell. Eros. Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? Ani. Now, Eros. Eros. Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow Of Antony's death. [Kills Aimseif. Ant. Thrice-nobler than myself! Thou teachest me, 0 vali.'Ult Eros, what I should, and thou couldst noL My queen and Eros Have by their brave instrud:iongot upon me A nobleness in record: but I wlll be A bridegroom in my death, and run into't 2:00 As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus [Falling on Ais S'WOrtl.
Neptune, god of the sea. Engraving from a painting by Raphael, lSI I
63 exigent. ="ieed. 73 pleach'd. Folded.
2061
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act IV Scene XI\,
123 disposed. :\Iade terms.
I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? The guard, ho! 0, dispatch me !
Enter DERCETAS and Guard. First Guard. What's the noise? Ant. I ha\'e done my work ill, friends: 0, make an end Of what I have begun. Sec. Guard. The star is fall'n. First Guard. And time is at his period. All. Alas, and woe! A 1tt. Let him that loves me strike me dead. Fint Guard. Not 1. 109 Sec. Guard. Nor I.' Tltird Guard. Nor anyone. [Exeunt Guard. Der. Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. This sword but shown to Ca::sar, with this tidings, Shall enter me with him. Enter Dro:YIEDES. Antony: 'Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides.' Eniraving by Kenny :\Ieadows from Barry Cornwall's The fVol'ks of Shakspel'i!, 18+6
Dio. Where's Antony? Der. There, Diomed, there. Dio. Lives he? Wilt thou not answer, man? [Exit Dercetas. Ant. Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me Sufficing strokes for death. Dio. Most absolute lord, My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. A nt. When did she send thee? Dio. Now, my lord. Ant. Where is she? DiD. Lock'd in her monument. She had a 120 prophesying fear Of what hath come to pass: for when she sawWhich never shall be found-you did suspeCt: .She had disposed with Ca:sa.r, and that you.r rage Would not be purged, she sen t you word she was dead; But, fe.aring since how it might work, hath sent Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, I dread, too late. A"t. Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. Dio. What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! Come, your lord calls! 130 Enterfour orfive of tlu Guard ofANTONY. A"t. 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. A ll. Most heavy day! Ant. 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. 140 [Exeunt, bearing" Antony.
2062
Act IV Scene XV SCENE XV.
Tlur same.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
A ,n01Iume"t.
Etlter CLEOPATRA, atld her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN aM IRAs. Cleo. 0 Charmian, I will never go from hence. Char. Be comforted, dear madam. Cleo. No, I will not: All strange and terrible events are welcome, But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it. Ellter, below, DIOMEDEs. How now! is he dead? Dio. His death's upon him, but not dead. Look out 0' the other side your monument; His guard have brought him thither. Etlter, below, ANTONY, &Jrne by tlte Guard. Cleo. 0 sun, Burn the great sphere thou movest ill! darkling stand 10 The varying shore 0' the world. 0 Antony, Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. Ant. Peace! Not Cresar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. Cleo. So it should be, that none but Antony Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! A tit. I am dying, Egypt, dying; only I here importune death awhile, until Of many thousand kisses the poor last 20 I lay upon thy lips. Cleo. I dare not, dear,Dear my lord, pardon,-I dare not, Lest I be taken: not the imperious show Of the full-fortuned Cccsar ever shall .Be brooch'd with me; if knife, dmgs, serpents, have Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: Your wife OCtavia, with her modest eyes And still cORclusion, shall acquire no honour .Demuring upon me. Butcome, come, Antony,Help me, my women,-we must draw thee up : 31 Assist, good friends. A1ti. 0, quick, or I am gone. Cleo. Here's sportindeed! Howheavyweighs my lord! . Our strength is all gone into heaviness, That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, .The strong-wing'dMercuryshould fetch thee up, And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,Wishers were ever fools,-O, come, come, come; (Tlury lurave A ntony aloft to Cleojatra. And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: Quicken with kissing: had my Ups that power, Thus would I wear them out. All. A heavy sight! 40 A1Jt. I am dying, Egypt, dying: Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. C180. No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, Provoked by my offence.
Cleopatra: 'Help ... let's draw him hither.' Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 1821
25 brooch'd. Decorated. 29 Del7lurillg. Looking down.
35 Jtfercury. :'vIessenger of gods.
2063
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act V Scene I
59 'WOo't. Would you. 75 charer. Chores.
Costume design for Cleopatra by J. Gower Parks, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1945
Ant. Onc word, sweet queen: Of Ccesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! Cleo. They do not go together. A nt. Gentle, hear me: None about Ccesar trust but Proculeius. Cleo. My resolution and my hands I'll trust: None about Cresar. 50 A nt. 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 0' 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; .1 can no more. Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't die! Hast thou no care of me f shall I abide 60 In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better than a sty? 0, see, my women, [A 1U()1lY dies. The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! 0, wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is faIl'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. Char. 0, quietness, lady! I ras. She is dead too, our sovereign. Char. Lady! lnu. Madam! Char. 0 madam, madam, madam f /ras. Royal Egypt, 10 Empress! Cltar. Peace, peace, Iras! Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman. and c0mmanded By such poor passion as the maid that nu1ks .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 stoI'n ourjewel. All's but naught; Patience is sottish, and impatience does Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin 80 To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to us f How do you, women f What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, Our lamp is spent, it's out t 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 briefe!o't end. 91 [Exeunt; those above karing iJff Anton;'" 6odj.
ACT V. SCENE I. Alexandria.
CtZS4YS ca",~.
Enter CA!:SAR,
AGRtPPA, DOLABELLA, MEC&NAS, GALLUS, PROCULmuS, and otlters, hU
ctnmcil U tvar. CtI!S. Go to him, DoIabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks
2064
Act V Scene I The pauses that he makes. Dol. Czsar, I shall. [Exit.
19 moiety. Half.
Entw DERCETAS, 'With the 8'WOrd of ANTONY. Cta. Wherefore is that f and what ar.t thou that darest Appear thus to us Y Dw. I am call'd Dercetas: Mark Antony I served, who be.st 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 %0 I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life. Cms. What is't thou say'st? Dw. I say, 0 Caesar, Antony is dead. Cms. The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: tthe round world Should have shook lions into civil ,.·. . .-cets, And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony Is not a single doom; in the name lay .A moiety of the world. Der. He is dead, Ccesar; Not by a public minister of justice, 20 N or by a hired knife: but that self hand, Which writ his honour in the ads it did, Hath, withtht 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. Cms. Look you sad, friends! The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings To wash the eyes of kings. Agr. And strange it is, That nature must compel us to lament .Our most persisted deeds. Mec. His taints and honours 30 Waged equal with him. Agr. A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us Some faults to make us men. Coesar is touch'd. Mec. When such a spacious mirror's set before him, He needs must see himself. ems. 0 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 dechning day, Or look on thine; we could not stall together In the whole world: but yet let me lament, 4 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 mme his thoughts did kindle,-that our stars, U nreconciliable, should divide Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends,But I will tell you at some meetar' season:
30 taints. Faults.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Octavius Caesar. Engraving from a Roman medal from G. du Choul's Discours de la R£ligian des Anciens Romams, 15 67
Enter an Egyptian. The business of this man looks out of him; 50 We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? Em. A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, Confined in all she has, her monnment,
2065
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act V Scene II
6 accidents. Fortune. bolts up. Ends.
Z3 l'v1ake ... reference. Be entirely open.
Of thy intents desires instruction, That she preparedly may frame herself To the way she's forced to. Cats. 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 Desar cannot live To be ungentle. Egyp. So the gods preserve thee! (Exit. 60 Cats. 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 lind of her. Pro. Czsar, I shall. (Exit. Cees. Gallus, go you along. [Exit Gallus.] Where's Dolabella, To second Proculeius! A II. DolabeIla! 70 Cees. 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 1 can show in this. [Exeunt.
A lexandria. A room in the monument. Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS. Cleo. My desolation does begin to make A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Czsar; 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 ; \Vhich sleeps, and never palates more the dug, The beggar's nurse aud Ccesar's. SCENE II.
JewelIery and headdress for Cleopatra designed by Percy Macgnoid, His Majesty's Theatre, London, 1906
Ellter, to tM gates of the m01lummt, PROCULElUS, GALLUS, and Soldiers. Pro. Ccesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; And bids thee study on what fair demands 10 Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. Cleo. What's thy name? Pro. My name is Proculeius. Cleo. Antony Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but I do not greatly care to be deceived, That have no use for trusting. If your master Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, That majes.ty, 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 20 Will kneel to him with thanks Pro. Be of good cheer; You're faU'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; a.nd you shall find A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, \Vhere he for ~race i .. kneel'd to.
2066
Act V Scene II Cleo. Pray you, tell him I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him The greatness he has got. I hourly learn 30 A doCtrine of obedience; and would gladly Look him i' the face. Pro. This I'll report, dear lady. Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied Of him that caused it. Gal. Vou see how easily she may be surprised: [Here Proculeius and two of the Guard ascend the HlO1tU11U1nt hy a ladder placed agains t a window, and, ltaving descend. ed, come. behind Cleopatra. Some 0/ the Guard ttnhqr and open the gates. [ To Proculeitts and the Guard] Guard her till Oiesar come. [Exit. /rq..r. Royal queen! Clurr. 0 Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen. Cleo. Quick, quick, good hands. [Drawing a dagger. Pro. Hold, worthy lady, hold: [Seizes and disanns Iter. Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this 40 Relieved, but not betray'd. Cleo. What, of death too, .That rids our dogs of languish? Pro. Cleopatra, Do not abuse my master's bounty by The undoing of yourself: let the world see His nobleness well aCted, which your death Will never let come forth. Cleo. Where art thou, death? Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen Worth many babes and beggars ! Pro. 0, temperance, lady! Cleo. Sir, I will eat no meat, I '11 not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary, 50 I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, Do Cresar what he can. Know, sir, that I Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; :Sor once be chastised with the sober eye Of dull OCtavia. Shall they hoist me up .And show me to the ~outing varletry Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt Be gentle grave unto me! rather on NUus' mud Lay me !>tark naked, and let the water-flies Blow me into abhorring! rather make 60 My country's high pyramides my gibbet, And hang me up in chains! Pro. You do extend These thoughts of horror further than you shall Find cau~ in Cresar.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
42 languish. Pain.
Cleopatra: 'Know, sir, that I Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;' Constance Collier as Cleopatra, His Majesty's Theatre, London, 1906
56 't·arletr:y. Common people.
Enter DOLABELLA. Dol. Proculeius, What thou hast done thy master Cresar knows, And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, . I '11 take her to my guard. Pro. So, Dolabella, It shall content me best: be gentle to her. [To Cleo.] To Ccesar I will speak what you shall please, If you'll employ me to him. Cleo. Say, I would die. 10 [Exeunt ProCHleius and Soldiers. Dol. Mostnoble empress, you have heard of me? Cuo. I cannot tell. Dol. Assuredly you know me.
2067
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act V Scene II
90 livery. Service.
Set for Cleopatra's monument designed by Motley, Stratford-upon-Avon, I954
Cleo. No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; Is't not your trick 1 Dol. I understand not, madam. Cleo. I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: 0, such another sleep, that I might see But such another man! Dol. If it might please ye,Cleo. His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck A sun and moon, which kept their course, and lighted 80 The little 0, the earth. Dol. Most sovereign creature,Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean: hi" 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 90 Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were As plates dropp'd from his pocket. Dol. Cleopatra f Cleo. Think you there was, or might be, such a man As this I dream'd of? Dol. Gentle madam, no. Cleo. You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. But, if there be, or ever were, one such, It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine An Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, Condemning shadows quite. Dol. Hear me, good madam. 100 Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it As answering to the weight: would I might never 0'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites My very heart at root. Cleo. I thank you, sir. Know you what C<esar means to do with me 1 Dol I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. Cleo. Nay, pray you, sir,DDI. Though he be honourable,Cleo. He'll lead me, then, in triumph? Dol. Madam, he will; I know't no [Flourish, and SMut witlUn., • Make way there: Cresar !'
Enter
ClESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAl:NAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train.
Cms. Which is the Queen of Egypt? Dol. It is the emperor, madam. [Cleopatra kneels. Cms. Arise, you shall not kneel: I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. Cleo. Sir, the gods Will have it thus: my master and my lord I mu&t obey. CatS. 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.
2068
Act V Scene II Cleo. Sole sir 0' the world, 120 I cannot l?rojeCl: 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.. C(p.s. Cleopatra, know, We will extenuate rather than enforce: If you apply yourself to our intents, Which tOW'd.rds 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 130 Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruCl:ion which I'll guard them from, If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. Cleo. And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, • Your stutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. CtZs. You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra.. • Cleo. This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, I am possess'd of: 'tis exaCtly valued; Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? Sel. Here, madam. 141 Cleo. This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, Upon his peril, that I have reserved To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. Sel. Madam, I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, Speak that which is not. Cleo. What have I kept back? Sel. Enouah to purchase what you have made known. C(p.s. Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve Your wisdom in the deed. Cleo. See, C!eSar! 0, behold, 150 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: slave, of no more trust Than love that's hired 1 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! CtZs. Good queen, let us entreat you. Cleo. 0 Cresar, what a woundin~ shame is this, That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, 160 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 Cresar, 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 apa.rt For Livia and OCtavia, to induce Their mediation; must I be unfolded 170 With one that I have bred 2 The gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I have. [To Seleucusl Prithee, go hence; Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Cleopatra and Caesar. Engraving from a painting by Gerome (1824-1904)
J.
135 scutcheons. Captured shields. 138 brief. List. 166
ImmOllll!l1t.
Inconsequential.
167 modern. Of the day.
°
2069
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
Act V Scene II
191 Zliords. Deceives.
209 mechanic. Vuillar. 214 tieton. Roman officers whose function was to attend the magistrates.
Vivian Leigh as Cleopatra, 8t James's Theatre, London, 195 1
2070
Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, Thou wouldst have mercy on me. Ctes. Forbear, Seleucus. [Exit Seleuctls. C leo. Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought For things that others do; and, when we fall, 'Ve answer others' merits in our name, Are therefore to be pitied. Ctes. Cleopatra, Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, 180 Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be 't yours, Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, Cresar'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 remam your friend; and so, adieu. Cleo. J.ly master, and my lord! Ctes. Not so. Adieu. 190 [Flourish. Exeunt CfP.sar and his train. • Cleo. He words me, ~rls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. [ W hisjers Charmian. has. Finish, good lady j the bright day is done, And we are for the dark. Cleo. Hie thee again: I have spoke already, and it is provided: Go put it to the haste. Char. Madam, I will.
Re-enter DOLABELLA.. Dol. Where is the queen? Char. Behold, sir. [p,rit. Cleo. Dolabella! Dol. Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, Which my love makes religion to obey, I tell you this: Cresar through Syria 200 Intends his journey; and within three days You with your children will he send before: Make your best use of this: I have perform'd Your pleasure and my promise. Cleo. Dolabella, I shall remain your debtor. Dol. I your servant. Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Ca::sar. Cleo. Farewell, and thanks. [Exit Dolabella. Now, Iras, what think'st thou? Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown .In Rome, as well as I: mechanic slaves With gre.asy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded, And forced to drink their vapour. lras. The gods forbid! • Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy li&rs Will catch at u. Cor. Under the canopy. Tkird Serv. Under the canopy! Cor. Ay. Tki'rdServ. Where's that? Cor. I' the city of kites and crows. Tltird Serv. l' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! Then thou dwollost with daws toof Cor. No, I serve not th¥ master. TlUrd Servo How, sir! do you' meddle with my master? 5Z Cor. Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy trencher. hence! [Beats kint away. Exit tliird S-ervi'ngman. Enter AUFIDIUS witk the second Servingman. A ufo Where is this fellow? Sec. Servo Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for disturbing the lords within. [Retires. A uA Whence comest thou f what wouldst thou? thy name? Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? Cor. If, Tulius, (UnmujJli'ng. 60 Not . yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not Think me for the man I am, necessity
CORIOLANUS Act IV Scene V
Aufidiuswith Coriolanus. Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's Complete Works of Shakspere, 1857-59
89 full quit of. Fully repaid to. 91 wreak. Vengeance.
92 maims. Wounds. 115 dip. Embrace.
2132
Commands me name myself. A uf. What is thy name? Cor. A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. Att/. 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? Cor. Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st thou me yet? Auf. I know thee not: thy name? ']0 Cor. 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 Qf the people, 80 Permitted by our dastard nobles, who Have all forsookme, hath devour'd the rest; And suff'er'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 hopeMistake me not-to save my life, for if I had feard 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· go .A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge • Thine own particular wrongs and stap those maims Of shame seen through thy COU1ltry, speed thee strai~ht,
And make. my misery serve thy turn: so use it That my revengeful services may prove As benefits to thee, {or I will fight Afainst my canker'd country with the spleen o 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 :100 Longer tctlive 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. Auf. 0 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, no And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them IJ1,ore 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, 120 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
Act IV Scene V Bestride my threshold. Why, thou .Mars 1 I tell thee. We have a power on foot; and I had purpose • Once more to hew thr target from thy brawn, Or lose mine arm for t: thou hast beat me out • Twelve several times, and I have nightly since Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me ; We haV'e been down together in my sleep, lJO U ubuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marciu$, Had we no quan-el else to Rome, but that Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all :F'rom twelve to seventy, and poUring war [nto the bowels of ungrateful Rome, Like a bold flood o'er-bear. 0, 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. %40 Though not for Rome itself: Cor. You bless me, gods! • Auf. Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have The leading of thine own revenges, take .The one half of my commission; and set downAs best thou art experienced, since thou know'st Thy country's strength andweakness,--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 mC',commend thee first to those that shall 150 Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! And more a friend than e'er an enetriy; Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your band: most welcome!
CORIOLANUS
126 target. Shield. brawn. Strong arm. 128 several. Separate. 142 absolute. Perfect.
144 clJ7ltmisswn. Command. set down. Decide. 149 ere destroy. Before destroying them. 157 gave. Suggested to.
(Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. T!t.e two Servingmen come /flrUfard. First Serz1. Here's a strange alteration! Sec. Servo 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 Servo What an arm he has! he turned me about with his finger and his thumb,as one would s.etupa top. 161 Sec. Servo Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in him: he had., sir, a kind of face, methought,-l cannot tell how to term it. First Servo He had so; looking as it werewould I were hanged, but I thought there was more in him than I could think. Sec. Servo So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest man i' the world. FirstServ. I think he.is: but a greater soldier than he, you wot one. 17 1 Sec. Sc1rv. Who, my master? First Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that. Sec. Serv. Worth six on rum. Fint Servo Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the greater soldier. Sec. Servo Faith, look you, one cannot teU how to say that: for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. First Servo Ay, and for an assault too. ISo
Re-enter third Servingman. Tkird Serv. slaves, I can tell you news,-
°
news, you rascals 1
2133
CORIOLANUS
Act IV Scene V
186 lieve. Gladly.
First and Sec. Seru. What, what, what? let's partake.
198 troth. Truth. scotched. Slashes. 199 carbonado. A piece of grilled meat. 213 sowl. Drag.
215 polled . Clear. 222 directitude. Discredit (malapropism).
226 conies. Rabbits. 234-248 This peace ... one another. See introduction.
238 'Vent. Life.
239 mulled. Dull.
\
Third Servingman: 'I hope to see Romans as cheap as Volscians.' Engraving bv Kennv Meadows from Barn' Cornwall's Works of Sh~kspere, '1846 .
2134
, Third Sero, I would not be a Roman, of all .nations; I had as lieve be a condemned man, First and Sec. S erv, Wherefore? wherefore? Third Serv, Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, Caius Marcius. First Servo Why do you say 'thwack our general'? 1:91: Tltird Servo I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always good enough for him, Sec. Servo Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. First Servo He was too hard for him directly, .to say the troth on't: before Corloli he scotched .him and notched him like a carbonado. Sec. Servo An he had been cannibally given, he might have broiled and eaten him too. 20I Ft'rst Servo But, more of thy news? Third Servo Why, he is so made on hele within, as if he were son and heir to Mars; set at upper end 0' 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 0' the eye to his discourse. But the bottom of the news is, 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 1111 .down before him, and leave his passage polled. Sec. Servo And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. Third Servo 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 frleads whilst .he's in direC1itude. First Seru. DireCtitude! what's that? Tkird Seru. 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 Servo But when goes this forward f Third Seru. 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. S~c. Serv. Why, then we shall have a stirring .world again. This peace is nothillg, '!tnt to rust iron. increase tailors, and breed ballad-makers. First Serv. 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. 24~ Sec. Servo '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 cuckoids. First Servo Ay, and it makes men hate one another. Tkim Servo Reason; because they then less need one another. The wars for m~ money., I hope to see Romans as cheap as Vo1scians. They are rising, they are rising. 250 All. In, in, in. in! [E.xnmt.
Act IV Scene VI R ume. A puolic place. Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS. Sic. 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 sufferby't, behold Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see Our tradesmen singing in their shops and going About their funCtions friendly. Bne. We stood to't in good time. [Enter Menenius.] Is this Menenius? 10 Slc. "Tis he, 'us he: 0, he is grown most kind of late. Botk Tri. Hail, sir! Men. Hail to you both! Sic. 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. Men. All's well; and might have been much better, if .He could have temporized. S ie. Where is he, hear you? Men. Nay, I hear nothing; his mother and his wife Hear nothing from him.
CORIOLANUS
SCENE VI~
Set design for a public place
in
Rome by Motley,
Stratford-upon-Avon, 1952
17 temporized. Compromised. 33 assistance. Assistants.
Enter three or four Citizens. Citizens. The gods preserve you both! Sic. God-den, our neighbours. 20 Br'II. God-den to you aU, god-den to you all. Firs/Cit. Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, AIe bound to pray for you both. Sic. Live, and thrive! Bru. Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus Had loved you as we did. Citizens. Now the gods keep you! Both Tri. Farewell, farewell. [Exeunt Citizens. Sic. This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows 'ran about the streets, Crying confusion. BrN. Caius Marcius was A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, 30 O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, Self-loving,Sic. And affecting one sole throne, .Without assistance. Men. I think not so. Sic. We should by this, to all our lamentation, If he had gone forth consul, found it so. BrN, The gods have well prevented it, and Rome Sits safe and still without 'him.
Enter an lEdile. Aid. Worthy tribunes, There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, Reports, the Volsces with two several powers Axe enter'd in the Roman territories, 40 And with the deepest malice of the war Destroy what lies before 'em. Men. 'rlS Aufidius,
2135
CORIOLANUS
Act IV Scene VI
45 inshell'd. Drawn in. 60 raising. Spre.adini rumours. 62 seconded. i.e. confirmed.
87 auger's bore. The small hole made by an auger or bradal1.
Menenius: 'Pray now, your news?' Com in ius (Paul Hardwick), Sicinius (Robert Hardy), Menenius (Harry Andrews) and Brutus (Peter \"'oodthorpe), Stratfordupon-Avon, 19.59
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. Sic. Come, what talk you Of Marcius? Bru. Go see this nImourer whipp'd. It cannot be The Volsces dare break with us. Men. Cannot be ! We have record that very well it can, And three examples of the like have been ,50 Within my age. But reason with the fellow, Before you punish him, where he heard this, Lest you shall chance to whip your infonnation . And beat the messenger who bids beware Of what is to be dreaded. Sic. Tell not me: I know this cannot be. Bru. Not possible.
Enter a Messenger. Mus. The nobles in g;reat earnestness are going All to the senate-house: some news is come That turns their countenances. Sic. 'Tis this slave:- 59 .Go whip him 'fore the people's eyes :-his raising; Nothing but his report. Mess. Yes, worthy sir, .The slave's ~ort is seconded; and more, More fearful, IS deliver'd. Sic. What more fearful? Mess. It is spoke freely out of many mouthsHow probable I do not..1mow-:-that Marcius, J oin'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, And vows revenge as spacious as between The young'st and oldest thing. Sic. This is most likely! Bru. Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish Good Marcius home again. Sic. The very trick on'1\ 70 Men. This is lmlikely : He and Aufidius can no more atone Than violentest contrariety. Enter a second Messenger. Sec. Mess. 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. Com. 0, you have made good work! Men. What news? what news? 80 Com. Youhaveholp to ravish your owndaughters and To melt the city leads upon your pates, To see your wives dishonour'd to ?,:our noses,Men. What's the news? what s the news? Com. Your temples burned in their cement, and Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined .Into an auger's bore. Mm. Pray now, your news?
2136
Act IV Scene VI You have made fair work,. I fearme.-Pray, your newsY-' If Marcus should bejoin'd with Vol$cians,Com. If! He is their god: he leads them like a thing 90 Made .by some other deity than nature, That shapes man better; and they follow him, Agains.t us brats, with no less confidence Than boys pursuing summer bu.tterflies, Or butchers killing Hies. Men. You b.3.ve made good work, .You and your apron-men ; you that stood so much • U pon the voice of occupation and The breath of garlic-eaters! Com. He will shake • Your Rome about your ears. Men. As Hercules Did shake down mellow fruit. You have made 100 fair work. ! Bru. But is this true, sir! Com. 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. Mere. We are all undone,unless The noble man have mercy. Com. Who shall ask it? The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people Deserve such pity of him as the wolf 110 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. Men. 'Tis true: If he were putting to my house the brand That should consume it, I have not the face .'1'0 say • Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, • You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! . Com. You have brought A trembling upon Rome, such as was never So incapable of help. Botlt. T.,.i. Say not we brought it. 120 Men. How! Was it we? we loved him; but, like beasts And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, Who did hoot him out 0' the city. Com. But I fear They'll roar him in. again. Tullns Aufidiu5, .The second name of men, obeys his points As if he were his officer: desperation Is all the policy,s.trength and defence, That Rome can make agains.t them.
CORIOLANUS
96 apron-men. Tradesmen. stood. Insisted. 97 'voice of occupation. i.e. the votes of workmen. 99-100 Hercules . . . fruit. Hercules' twelfth labour was to obtain apples from a tree in the Hesperides, guarded by a dragon.
Hercules in the garden of the Hesperides. Engraving from P. J. :vIariette's Traitl des Pierres Gravees, 1769 117 made/air hands. Done a fine job. 118 crafted fair. Acted craftily. 125 name. i.e. in fame. points. Every point.
Enter a troop o/Citizens. Men. Here come the clusters. And is Aufidius with him? You are they 129 That made the air unwholesome, when you cast Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at Coriolanus' exile. N ow he's coming; And not a hair upon a soldier's head Which wilI 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,
2137
CORIOLANUS
Act IV Scene VII
148 cry. Mob. 161 buy this fOT. i.e. turn this into. 5 darken'd. Eclipsed.
13 particular. Private concern.
We have deserved it. Citizens. Faith, we hear fearful news. First Cit. For mine own part, When I said, banish him, I said, 'twas pity. 140 Sec. Cit: And so did 1. TMrd Clt. And so did 1; and, to say the truth, so did very many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and though we willingly oonsetlted to his banishment, yet it was against our will. Com. Ye're goodly things, you voices! Men. You have made .Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? Com. 0, ay, what else?
[Exeunt 'Cominius and Menenius.
Sic. Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: ISO 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. Fint Cit. The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished him. Sec. Cit. So did we all. But, come, let's home.
(Exeunt Citizens. Bru. I do not like this news. Su. Nor I. ' Bru. Let's to the Capitol. Would half my
wealth .Would buy this for a lie! ' Sic. Pray, let us go.
160
[Exeunt.
$eENE
VII.
A camp, at a small distance from Rome.
Enter A UFIDl.US andkis Lieutenant. Auf. Do they still fly to the Roman·!
Lieu. 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. Auf. I cannot help it now, Unless, by using means, I lame the foot Of our d~gn. He bears himself more proudlier, Even to my person, than I thought he would When first I did embrace'him:: yet his nature YO In that's no changeling; and I must excuse What cannot be amended. Lieu. Yet 1 wish, sir,.1 mean for your particular,-you had not ]oin'd in commission with him; but either lIad borne the aCtion of yourself, or else To him had left it solely. Auf. I understand thee wen; 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 20 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.
2138
Act V Scene I
Lieu. Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? Auf. All places yield to him ere he sits down; And the nobility of Rome are his: The senators and patricians love him too : 30 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 defeCl: of judgement, To fail in the disposing of those chances 40 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 controU'd the war; but one of theseAs 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: SO And power, unto itself most commendable, .tHath 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.
CORIOLANUS
43 casque to the CIIshirm. i.e. battlefield to the Capitol. 44 garb. Demeanour. 52 chair. i.e. seat at the Capitol.
Set design for a public place in Rome by Boris Aronson, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1959
3 particulal". Personal affection. 16 rack 'd. Striven.
[Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE
I. Rome. ApulJlicplace.
EnterMENENIUs, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS,
and others. Men. 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 0' 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, 1'11 keep at home. Com. He would not seem to know me. Men. Do you hear! Com. Yetone time he did call me bymy name: I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops 10 That we have bled together. Coriolanus He would not answer to: forbad all name:) ; He was a kind of nothing, titleless, Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire Of burning Rome. Mm. Why, so: you have made good work! .A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, To make coals cheap,-a noble memory ! Com. I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon When it was less expeCl:ed: he replied, It was a bare petition of a state 20 To one whom they had punish'd. Men. Very well: Could he say less 7
2139
CORIOLANUS
Act V Scene I
Menenius. Drawini by Henry Singleton (1766-1839) 28 nose. Smell. the offence. i.e. the noisome chaff. 44 grief-shot. Sorrow-stricken.
49 hum at. Be hostile to. unhearts. Disheartens. 60 pTove. Try.
Cont. 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 unbumt, .And still to nose the offence. Men. 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: 30 You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt . Above the moon: we must be burnt for·you. Sic. Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid In this so never-needed help, }Tet 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. Men. No, I'll not meddle. Sic. Pray you, go to him. Men. What should I do? 39 Bru. Only make trial what your love can do For Rome, towards Marcius. Men. 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? Sic. Yet your good will Must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure As you intended well. Men. 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: ·50 The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then We pout upon the morning, are 'un~t To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd These pipes 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. Bru. You know the very road into his kindness, .And cannot lose your w:ry. Men. Good faith, I'll prove him, 60 Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge Of my success. [Exil. Com. He'll never hear him. Sic. Not? Com. I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye Red as 'twould bum Rome; and his injury The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; 'Twas very faintly he said' Rise:' dismiss'd 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, 70 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.
me
2140
Act V Scene II
CORIOLANUS
II. Entrance of tlte Volscian camp be/ore Rome. Two Sentinels on guard.
SCENE
Enter /0 litem. MENENIUS. First Sen. Stay: whence are you Y Sec. Sen. Stand, and go back Men. You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave,
r am an officer of state .. and come To speak with Coriolanus. First Sen. From whence! Men. From Rome. First Sen. You may not pass, you must return: our general Will no more hear from thence. Sec. Sen. You'11 see your Rome embraced with fire before Yoti'll speak with Coriolanus. Men. Good my friends, If you have heard your general talk of Rome, .And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, 10 My name hath touch'd your ears: it is Menenius. Fint Sen. Be it so; go back: the virtue of your nam:e Is not here passable. Men. I ten thee, fellow, Thy general is my lover -= I have been The book of his good aCts, whence men have read His fame unparallel'd. haply amplified; For I have ever tverifiedmy 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, 20 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 Sett. 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. Men. Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, always faCtionary on tile party of your general. 3" Sec. Sen. Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say yeu have, I am one that, telling true under him., must say. you cannot pass. Therefore, g0 'bacK. . Men. Has he dined. canst thou tell? for I would not speak with him till after dinner. First Sen. You are a Roman, are you f Men. I am, as thy general is. 39 First Sen. 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 pal~ed .intercession of such a decayed dotant as you seem to be f Can you think to blowout the intended fire your City is ready to Bame 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.
Walls of Rome and the Ostian Gate. Enllraving from Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, edited by W. Smith, 1862
10 lots to blanks. i.e. more likely than not.
20 mbtle. Tricky. 22 stamp'd the leasing. Attested to falsehood.
47 dotant. Dotard.
2141
CORIOLANUS
Act V Scene II
67 a Jack guardant. A knave on guard. 68 offi·ce. i.e. use his authority to separate.
90 pro/J"ly. For myself. remission. Power to pardon. 104 shent. Scolded.
Men. Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would use me with estimation. First Sen. Come, my captain knows you not. Men. I mean, thy general. Fint Sen. My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,-that '5 the utmost of your having: back. Men. Nay, but, fellow, fellow,Ellter CORIOLANUS and AUFlDIUS.
Cor. What '5 the matter? Men. Now, you companion, I'll sayan emmd for you: you shall know now that I am inesti.mation: you shall perceive that a Jack. guardant .cannot office me from my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment with him, if th~ standest not i' the state of hanging, or. of some death more long in speetatorship, and cruel1~r in suffering; behold now presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. [To Cor.] The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than thy old father Menenitis does! 0 my son, my son! thou art preparin~ fire for us: look thee, here's water to quench 1t. I was hardly moved to come to thee: but being assured none but m.yself could move thee, I have beeft 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. Cor. Away! Men. How! away! Cor. Wife. mother, child, I know nGt. My affairs Are servanted to others: though lowe .My revenge properly, my remission lies 90 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 aTe s.tronger than Your gates against my force. Yet. for I loved thee, Take this along; I writ it for thy sake. [Gives tJ letter. And would have sent it. Another word, Meneniu5, I will not hear. thee speak. This man, Au1idius, Was' my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st:1 A uf. You keep a constam temper. 100 [Exeunt Coriolanus and Aufidius. First Sen. Now, sir, is your name Menenius? Sec. Sen. 'Tis a spell. you see, ef much power: you know the way home again. • First Sen. Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your greatness back? Sec. Sen. What cause, do you think, I hav.e to swoon? Men. 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, Awa) I [Ex#.
Fi,st Sen.
2142
A noble fellow, I warrant him.
Act V Scene III
CORIOLANUS
Sec. Sen. The worthy fellow is our general! he's the rock, the oak nat to be wind-shaken.
[Exeunt. ScENE
III.
Tke tent ()f C()ri()lanus.
Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and ()tlters. Cor. 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 busUtess. Au/.· Only their ends You nave respeded; stopp' d your ears against The general suit of Rome; never admitted A private whisper, no, not with such friends That thought them S\ll'C of you. C()r. This last old man, Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, Loved me above the measure of a father; 10 eNay, 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, N or from the state nor private frie~ds, hereafter WillI lend ear to. Ha what shout is this? (SbOld witkin.
Shan t be tempted to infringe my vow In the sarue time 'tis made? I will not.
20
The family of Coriolanus beg him to spare Rome. Fresco by Luca Signorelli (1441 ?-I523) 11 godded. Deified. 30 Olympus. Legendary mountain-home of the gods.
39 deli'un. Presents.
Enter, in mourning !tabits, VIRGILIA, Vo;LUMNIA, leading young- MARCIUS, VALERIA, ..nil Attendants. My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould 'Vherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affeCtion! AU bond and privilege of nature, break! Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. What is that curt'sy worth Y or those doves' eyes, Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; eAs if Olympus to a molehill sMuld 30 In suppllcation nod:: and my young boy Hath an aspeet1)f intercession which Great .natnre ,cries (Denynot. 1 Let the V olsces Plough Rome, and harrow Italy: I'll never Be such a gosling to obey instmct, but stand, As if a man were author of himself And knew no other kin. Vir. My lord and husband! Cor. These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. e Vir. The sorrow that delivers us thus changed Makes you think so. Cor. Like a dun ador now, 40 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.' 0, a kiss Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, tnat kiss I carried from thee. dear; and my true lip
2143
CORIOLANUS
Act V Scene III
48 v"gin'd it. Kept it intact.
Volumnia: 'I kneel before thee: and unproperly Show duty .. .' Elizabeth Hopkins, 18th century English actress, as Volumnia, 1776
&& curdied. Congealed.
67 Dian. Diana, goddess of chastity.
68 epitome. :Miniature. 74 sea-mark. Land mark used by seamen for navigation. flaw. Gust.
95 be'WTay. Display.
• 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; 50 (Kneels. Of thy deep duty more impression show Than that of common sons. Vol. 0, stand up blest J 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. Cor. What is this 7 Your knees to me? to yO\ll' correeted 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; 60 Murdering impossibility, to make What cannot be, slight work. Vol. Thou art my warrior: I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? Cor. The noble sister of PublicoIa, 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! • Vol. This is a poor epitome of yours, Which by the interpretation of full time May show like all yourself. Cor. The god of soldiers, 10 \Vith the consent of supreme Jove; inform Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the WQr& .Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, And saving those that eye thee! Vol Your knee, sirrah. Cor. That's my brave boy! Vol. Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, Are suitors to you. Cor. I beseeeh you, peace: Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: The thing I have forsworn to g'l'mlt may never 80 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 allay my rages and revenges with Your colder reasons. 0, no more, no more! Vol. You have-said you \vin not grant us any thing; For we have nothing else Co ask, but that Which you deny already: yet we'WIll ask; That, if you fail in our request, the blame c;p May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. Cor. Aufidius, and you Voisces, mark; for we'll Hear nought from Rome in private. Yourrequest? Vol. Should we be silent alld 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 SOlTOW;
Making the mother, wife and child to
2144
s~
100
Act V Scene III The son, the husband and the father tearing His country's bowels out. And to poor ~ .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 vidory, 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 III An evident calamity, though we had OUT 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 121 Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner March to assault thy country than to treadTrust to't. thou shalt not-on thy mother's womb, That brought thee to this world. Vi,.. Ay, and mine, That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name
Living to time. Young Ma,.. A' shall not tread on me; I'll run away till- I am bigger, but then 1'11 fight. Cor. Not of a woman's tenderness to be, Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. 1:30 I have sat too long. [Rising. Vol. Nay, go not from us thus. If it were so that our request did tend To save the Romans, thereby to destroy The Volsces whonr you serve, you might con· demn 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'r Thou know'st, great son, 140 The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit Which thou shalt thereoy 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 ofthe gods; ISO To tear with thunder the wide cheeks 0' the air, .And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt That should but rive an oak. Why dost not sReak ? Think st thou it honourable for a noble man Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: He care; 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 I59 Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
CORIOLANUS
104 capital, Deadly. 114 recreant. i,e. traitor, 120 determine. Are ended.
Volumnia: 'Nay, go not from us thus.' Engraving of James Quin (16\)3-1761) as Coriolanus by William Hogarth, I749
152 mlphur, Lightning,
2145
CORIOLANUS
Act V Scene IV
Volumnia: 'Down: an end; This is the last: so we will home to Rome ... ' Engraving from a painting by William Hamilton (1751-1801)
163 cluck'd. i.e. nagged. 1 coign. Corner.
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 1.10 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 hands 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 afire, 181 And then I'll speak a little. [He koltls It.er lJ:I Ike hand, silent. Cor. 0 mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. 0 my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy viCtory to Rome; But, for your son,-believe it, 0, 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, 190 I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, Were you in my stead, would you have heard A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? A uf. I was moved withal. Cor. I dare be sworn you were: And, sir, it is no little thing to make Mine eyes to sweat compa5sion. But, good sir, What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, 1'11 not to Rome, I'11 back with you; and pray you, Stand to me in this cause. 0 mother! wife! Auf. [AsUie.J I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and thy honour 200 At difference in thee: out of that I '11 work Myself a former fortune. [The Ladies make signs to Coriolanus. AYi by and by; Cor. [To Volumnia, Virgilia, &c. But we will driBk together; and you shall bear A better witness back than words, which we, . On like conq.itions, 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. 209
A pu!Jlic place. Ente1 MENENIUS and SICINIUS. • Men. See you yon coign 0' the Capitol, yon corner-stone ? Sic. Why, what of that? Men. 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 preScENE
2146
IV.
Rome.
Act V Scene IV vail with him. But I say there is no hope in 't: our throats are sentenced and stay upon execution. Sic. Is't possible that so short a time can alter the condition of a man? lO Men. 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 win~s; he's more than a creeping thing. Stc. He loved his mother dearly. Men. So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother now than an eight-ye.ar-old horse. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before his tre.ading: 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. Sic. Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. Men. I paint him in the charaCter. Mark what mercy his mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy in him .than there ic; milk in a male tiger; that shall our poor city find: and all this is long of you. Sic. The gods be good unto us ! Men. No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto us. When we banished him, we respeded not them; and, he returning to break our necks, they respeCt not us.
CORIOLANUS
21 corslet. Body armour. 22 hum. Anger.
46 expulsion .,. Tarquins. The historical expulsion from Rome of the family of tyrants.
The expulsion of the Tarquins from Rome. Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 1821 52 sackbuts. Trombones. psalteries. Stringed instruments.
53 tabors. Small drums.
Ellter a Messenger.
Mess. Sir, ifyou'ld save your life, fly to your house; The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune And hale him up and down, all swearing, if 40 The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, They'll give him death by inches.
60 doit. Smallest coin.
second Messenger. Sic. What's the news? Sec. Mess. Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, The Voiscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, eN0, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. Sic. Friend, Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? Sec. Mess. As certain as I know the sun is fire: Where have you Iurk'd, that you make doubt ElIter a
~k?
~
Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! [Trumpets; kautboys; drums beat; all togetkeT. eThe trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, .Tabors and cymbals and the shouting Romans, Make the sun dance. Hark you! [A sMui witkin. Men. This is good news: I will go meet the ladies. This V olumnia Js 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 59 .1 'Id not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! [Music still, wiIA shouts.
2147
CORIOLANUS 6 portr. Gates.
14 parties. Allies.
Act V Scenes V & VI
Sic. First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, A.ccept my thankfulness.
Sec. Mess. Sir, we have all Great cause to give great thanks. Sic. They are near the city? Sec. Mess. Almost at point to enter. Sic. We will meet them, And help the joy. [Exewtt. ScENE
V.
The same. A street near the gate.
Enter two Senators 'with VOLUMNtA, VIRGILIA, V ALERIA, &c. passing over the stage,followed by Patricians, afJd others. First Sen. Behold our patroness, the life of Rome I Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcins, Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; Cry , Welcome, ladies, welcome !' A II. Welcome, ladies, Welcome! [A flourish 'With drums and trum-
pets. SCENE
VI.
A ntium.
Exeunt.
A juhlic jlace.
Enter TULLUS AUFlDlUS, wit/t. Attendants. A uf. Go ten the lords 0' 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 himself with words: dispatch.
[Exeunt Attendants. Enter tlt.ree orfour Conspirators of AUFIDlUS' faClion. Most welcome! First Con. How is it with our general! Auf. Even so 10 As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, And with his charity slain. Sec. Con. Most noble si~ If you do hold the s.-tme intent wherein • You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you Of your great danger. A ufo Sir, I cannot tell: We must proceed as we do find the people. Tki,d Con. The people will remain uncertain whilst 'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall ofeither Makes the survivor heir of all. Auf. I know it; And my pretext to strike at him admits 20 A good construttion. 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 Con. Sir, his stoutness When he did stand for consul, which he lost By lack of stooping,A1f.f. Thr!.tI would have spoke of:
2148
Act V Scene VI Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth: 30 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 hisdesignments 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 40 I had been mercenary. Fint Con. So he did, my lord : The army marvelf d at it, and, in the last, When he had carried Rome and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,A ufo There was it : For which my sinews shall he 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 (all. But, hark r
CORIOLANUS
34 files. i.e. ranks of troops. 46 rheum. Tears. 65 easy fines. Light penalties.
[Drums and trumpets sound, with great • shouts of the People. First Con. Your native town you enter'd like a post, 50 And had no welcomes home: hut he retnrns, Splitting the air with noise. Sec. Con. And patient fools, Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear With giving h&n glory. Third Con. Therefore, at your vantage, Ere he express himself, or move the people With what he would say, let him feel yoursword, Which we will second. When he lies along, After your way his tale pronounced shall bury His reasons with his body. A ufo Say no more: Here come the lords. 60 Enter tke Lords oftke dty. A II tke Lords. You are most welcome home. A u:f. I have not deserved it. But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused What I have written to you P Lords. We have. First Lortl. 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. Auf. He approaches: you shall hear him. 70
Costume design for Coriolanus by Ann Curtis, Royal
Shakespeare Co, 1967
Enter CORIOLANUS, marckinr witk drum and colours; Commoners be£nr with him. Cor. 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 counte.!POise a full third part The charges of the albon. We have made peace With no less honour to the Antiates 80
21:49
CORIOLANUS
Act V Scene VI
84 compounded. Agreed.
Coriolanus: 'Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it'. Anthony Quayle as Coriolanus, Stratford-upon-Avon, I952
130 his tribe. Of his type.
2150
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. A uf. Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree He hath abused your powers. Cor. Traitor J how now! Auf. Ay, traitor, Marcius! Cor. Marcius! Auf. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy sto1'n name Coriolanus in Corioli? go You lords and heads 0' 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 0' 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. Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars? 100 Auf. Name not the god, thou boy of tears! Cor. Hal Auf. No more. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy! 0 slave! Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever I was forced to scold. Your judgements, my grave lords, Must give this cur the lie: and his own notionWho wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that Must bear my beating to his grave-shall join To thrust the lie unto him. IIO First Lord. Peace, both, and hear me speak. Cor. 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, Tha4 like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volsciaris in Corioli: Alone I did it. Boy! Auf. Why, noble lords, \Vill you be put in mind of his blind fortune, "'hich was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? A II Cons? Let him die for't. 120 All the jJeople. 'Tear him to pieces.' (Do it presently.' 'He killed my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin Marcus.' • He killed my father.' Sec. Lord. Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! The man is noble and his fame folds-in This orb 0' the earth. His last offences to us Shall have judicious hearing, Stand, Aufidius, And trouble not the peace. Cor. 0 that I had him, .With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, 130 To use my lawful sword! A u/'. Insolent villain! AD Consp. Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! [The Conspirators draw, and kill Coriolanus: A ufidius stands on his body. Lords. Hold, hold, hold, hold! A1If. My noble masters, hear me speak. First Lord. 0 Tul1us,Sec. Lord. Thou hast done a deed whereat
Act V Scene VI valour will weep. Third Loyd. Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; Put up your swords. Auf. 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 141 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. Sec. Lord. His own impatience Takes from Aufidius a ~reat part of blame. Let's make the best of It. Auf. My rage is gone; And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. 149 Help, three 0' the cmefest soldiers; 1'11 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 hoar bewail the injury, Yet he shall have a noble memory. [Exeunt, bearing the body if CorioAssist. lanus. A dead march. sounded.
CORIOLANUS
'45 corse. Corpse.
Aufidius: 'My rage is gone; And I am struck with sorrow.' Drawing by Henry Singleton (1.766-1839)
2151
Timon of Athens 1608
TIMON followed straight upon the heels of Coriolanus with which it has much in common, . and it has many indications of the time. In his Plutarch Shakespeare noticed the stories of Timon and Alcibiades, and resolved to combine them for his next play. The situation was repeated from Coriolanus: both Timon and Alcibiades were alienated from their native city; Alcibiades was banished and returned to conquer and spare it, Timon banished himself. The dramatist may also have looked up Lucian's version of Timon's story, perhaps in Latin; certainly not in Greek, for Greek was hardly at all taught in Elizabethan schools, and most of the names in the play are Latin.
The Theme, as with most of the tragedies, is the revelation of his own nature to the protagonist, as with King Lear, whether the self-discovery is adequate and convincing or not. \Vith Timon it is not: he goes from one extreme to another, from prodigality and profuse liberality (Shakespeare may be recalling the old interlude on that theme) to the m!santhropy induced by the discovery of the falseness of friends, the undependability of people who will accept one's hospitality and gifts, without giving anything in return, their unwillingness to come to one's help in time of need, the insincerity and hypocrisy of flatterers in one's prosperity, desertion in adversity, ingratitude - a subject on which Shakespeare was peculiarly sensitive (he must have been speaking out of his own experience). Timon learns all this from bitter experience; he should have known it before, but what he finds suddenly and totally changes him, like a conversion, into a misanthrope. Apemantus, who is another Thersites from Troilus and Cressida and a complete cynic about men already, tells Timon the truth about himself: 'the middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends.' And further: If thou didst put this sour cold habit on To castigate thy pride, 'twere well; but thou Dost it enforcedly.
2152
Introduction
TIMON OF ATHENS
So Timon's profuseness was a form of pride, and even of patronising others: he gets what is coming to him. On the other hand, he is capable of telling Apemantus the truth about himself too: If thou hadst not been born the worst of men Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. His reviling of men is but the other side of the coin. So all illusions are exposed in this singularly disillusioned play, the first half of which is devoted to this theme - Timon's illusion (like Lear's).
The Play begins with a strong scene, in which the poet and the painter prepare to present their works to the lordly Timon as patron. This is highly contemporary; Shakespeare could have heard this sort of patter at Southampton's or some other great house. The painter inquires of the poet: 'You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication to the great lord.' The poet replies, with the bogus self-depreciation one knows so well, A thing slipped idly from me. The poet commends the painter's work with: 'this comes off well and excellent.' The painter coyly disclaims praise: 'indifferent'. The poet then responds with a piece of outrageous flattery, the interest of which to us is that it tells us what Elizabethans looked for in a portrait - evidently speaking lifelikeness, plus art and grace: Admirable! How this grace Speaks his own standing! What a mental power This eye shoots forth! How big imagination Moves in this lip! The painter is constrained to admit: It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch: is't good? The poet assures him: I will say of it It tutors nature. Artificial strife Lives in these touches livelier than life. Elizabethans used the word 'artificial' in praise, meaning 'artistic'; these exchanges give us an idea of their aesthetic standards. This is followed by a banquet at which Timon entertains his lordly friends. We are given a nice parody of Court-flattery, which Shakespeare had had every opportunity of overhearing: '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.' Apemantus, the cynic, knows perfectly what this is worth and expresses his disbelief in men's assurances, in the sententiae of his Grace. Timon is already in debt; his faithful steward is driven to distraction to raise the wherewithal for such bounty, such senseless 2153
TIMON OF ATHENS
Introduction
Edmund Kean as Timon of Athens, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, I8I6
,-~!) . :)~. . ••
;(~ .,~
..'
2154
.
Introduction
TIMON OF ATHENS Designs by Inigo Jones for Ben Jomon'sThe Masque of Queens, February 2,
I609
extravagance. Bankrupt, Timon tries to cash the assurances of these friends for help to tide him over. Each refuses with a different excuse. Timon invites them to a last banquet, where the covered dishes contain nothing but smoking hot water and stones, with which he pelts them and drives them away. He then departs into the wilderness of solitude and misanthropy.
The Jacobean Age. All this may be seen as a comment on the ostentation and vulgar extravagance, which boomed with the new regime. The financial strain of the war, with Elizabeth and Burghley's watchfulness, had kept things within bounds; with peace and prosperity they passed beyond them all. Neither James I nor his Queen had any idea of money; after Scotland, England was their milch-cow. The magnificent series of Courtmasques - for which Ben Jonson was the poet and Inigo Jones the painter - had now begun and cost fortunes. It is interesting that Timon provided a masque with his first banquet. The costly banquets of James's fa\·ourite, James Hay, were notorious; he was popular, too, because - though he got something like £200,000 out of the Exchequer - he ended up, Clarendon says, with not a stitch of land. He had spent it all. :.vI any of his sort were forced to sell their lands to keep up with the imprO\-ident Stuarts_ Timon is forced to this course: 'Let all my land be sold.' His steward knew the situation too well, but Timon would not listen - and there were many like that: 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. As for promises, the painter is able to tell us, 'Promising is the very air o'the time _ .. To promise is most courtly and fashionable; performance ... argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it.' One academic critic asks, \Vhy was Timon such a fool? But there were many people like that, and by this time Shakespeare kne\v that most of
2155
TIMON OF ATHENS
Introduction
humanity were fools, of one sort or another. He puts the knowledge into the mouth of one of these lords, who describes Apemantus as 'opposite to humanity', precisely because he expresses the truth.
Gold and Virginia. In the absence of war people's minds were dominated by money, and religious bickering (that could not be presented on the stage, but we can imagine what Shakespeare thought of it). The first colony went out to Virginia to start Jamestown in 1607, but, instead of cultivating the soil, they gave themselves up to digging for gold, and were shortly starving. The year 1608 saw a gold-craze over there; the report came home, 'no talk, no hope, no work but to dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold.' (In 1609 a large reinforcement was sent out, when the news of the wreck of the flagship on Bermuda provided the subject for The Tempest.) Meanwhile, the silly would-be colonists starved, and were forced to dig for roots for sustenance. Timon digs for roots in the woods by the sea-shore - and finds gold. He has a whole speech on the subject: Gold! Yellow, glittering, precious gold! ... Thus much of this will make Black white, foul fair, wrong right, Base noble, old young, coward valiant ... This yellow slave \\Till knit and break religions, bless th'accursed, Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves And give them title, knee, and approbation \Vith senators on the bench. True enough: money has provided a golden (today, paper) route to the House of Lords. Old Lord Burghley had written in his Precepts that nobility was but ancient riches: he knew well enough, it was his own case.
Plague and Disease. A severe outbreak of plague marked much of 1608-9, and it is no less marked in the background of the play, with several references. When the news gets round that Timon has discovered gold, it brings all the wolves round the door once more, poet and painter, lords and senators, Alcibiades and his whores. To the senators come to greet him, thus Timon: I thank them, and would send them back the plague Could I but catch it for them. He launches Alcibiades upon them as their plague, and for his own epitaph leaves: Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate. To Alcibiades' whores his wishes are: 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.
2156
Introduction
TIMON OF ATHENS
Venereal disease was rife in Jacobean London; and anyone who knows Fonnan's writings will recognise the authentic note in this:
Be as a planetary plague when Jove Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison In the sick air. The scalpel is quite unsparing: Down with the nose Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away. The dramatist William Davenant, who liked to think that he was an Oxford by-blow of William Shakespeare's - and there was much to be said for it -lost his nose from syphilis. There is even more of this kind of thing, an exposure of society from top to bottom even blameless academics come in for a swipe : the learned pate Ducks to the golden fool as it might be Left-wing academics in our time prostituting their services to press-lords. All this is expressed, as critics have noted, with 'passionate conviction'. What accounts for this, the increasing bitterness - one cannot mistake it - of these plays from Hamlet and Troilus and Cressida, that is, from 1601 onwards? E. K. Chambers, who enjoyed the liberal illusions of pre-I914 civilisation, was appalled. 'In each alike we find the same readiness of bitter criticism, the same remorseless analysis, probing and dissecting, as with a cruel scalpel, the intimate weaknesses and basenesses of mankind. In each, ideals are shattered, heroes are dis crowned and stripped of their heroism, until it is with difficulty', he adds innocently, 'that our sympathies, so essential to the sense of tragedy, are retained.' But are they? It is more important to recognise the truth of the picture.
The Text offers a fascinating problem, as it was inserted in the Folio in the space intended for Troilus and Cressida, temporarily held up by copyright difficulties. Timon represents the author's rough draft, and from it we can see how he worked - visualising scenes and completing them as he felt inclined. Thus the beginning and end of the play are complete, and contain fine poetry. The middle of the play remains in rough draft, with Shakespeare jotting down his first thoughts sometimes in prose, sometimes in irregular blank verse, at others in rhymed couplets. Vve know that Ben Jonson wrote his ve:-se first as prose - as his schoolmaster, Camden, had taught him - and then turned it into poetry. This is most unlikely to have been Shakespeare's way. As Heming and Condell, who knew, tell us: 'his mind and hand went together; and what he thought he uttered with easiness' ... where Ben Jonson was notoriously constipated. Our leading authority on the printing of the Folio, Charlton Hinman, says that Timon represented a 'not yet finally revised text, a version antecedent to "foul papers", as an author's last draft of a play is rather misleadingly called.' I agree: though usual, it is a rather absurd phrase.
2157
TIMON OF ATHENS. D:RAMATIS PERSONlE. TIMON, of Athens. LucIUs, } LucuLLus, flattering lords. SEMPRONIUS, VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends. ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain. ApEMANTus, a churlish philosopher. FLAVIUS, steward to Timon. Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant. An old Athenian. FLAMINIUS, } LUCILIUS, seNa1lts to Timon. SERVILIUS,
If~i:u~
}
servants to Timon's creditors.
HORTENSIUS, And others, A Page. A Fool. Three Strangers. PHRYNIA, } Dnstresses . TIMANDRi't, to Al Cl·biades. Cupid and Amazons in the mask. Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Soldiers, Ban· ditti, and Attendants. ScENE: A tkens, and tke neigkbouring w{){)(/s.
• A bullet beside a text line indicates an annotation in the opposite column.
ACT I. SCENE I.
A tltms. A "all in Tim01" I "MUe.
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors. P{)8t. Good day, sir. Pain. I am glad you're well. P{)8t. I have not seen you long: how goes the world? Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows. P{)8t. 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. Pain. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. Mer. 0, 'tis a worthy lord. 'Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.
Opposite: Timon, de5erted by his friends, denounces them for their ingratitude. Painting by Henry Holiday, 1916
2159
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act I Scene I
10 breathed. Accustomed.
12 passes. Excels. 18 water. The transparency of a diamond.
Poet: 'Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence 'tis nourish'd.' Nineteenth century engraving from a Greek statue
35 mocking. Copy. 37 artificial strife. Artistic endeavour. 44 beneath fl.·orld. i.e. the Earth.
47 levell'd. Aimed. 50 tract. Trace.
57 properties. Subjects. tendance. Attendance.
2160
•
Mer. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, 10 To an untirable and continuate goodness: .He passes. Jew. I have a jewel hereMer. 0, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? 'Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for thatPoet. [Reciting to kimsel/l • When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good. Mer. 'Tis a good form. [L(}(}king at tke Jewel. • 'Jew. And rich: here is a water, look yeo Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord. Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me. 20 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! Pain. A pieture, sir. When comes your book forth ? Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let's see YQur piece. Pat'n. 'Tis a good piece. Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. Pain. lndifferent. Poet. Admirable: how this grace 30 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. • Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is't good Y Poet. I will say of it, .[t tutors nature: artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier than life. Enter ceriat'n Senators, and pass (}'lJer. Pain. How this lord is follow'd! Poet. The senators of Athens: happy man! Pain. Look, more! 4I 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 em brace 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. SO Pain. 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 quahty, 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 60
Act I Scene I The knee before him and returns in. peace Most rich in Timon's nod. Pain. 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 71 • Translates his rivals.. Pain. 'Tis conceived to !'.Cope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon'd from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well express'd In our condition. Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on. AU those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value. on the moment 79 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. Pain. 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. Pain. 'Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can show go 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.
TIMON OF ATHENS
65 rank'd . .. deserts. Lined with ranks of all kinds.
72 Translates. Transfers. conceived to scope. Devised to this purpose.
Poet: 'When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved ... ' Woodcut attributed to Albrecht Durer (1471-1528)
95 five talents. i.e. a larie amount of money.
Tnmtpets sound. Euier LORD TIMON, nddre8ring- himself courteollsly to every suitor; a Messenger .from Y ENTIDIUS talldng 'loitk him; LUCILIUS and other servants .following. Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you? • Mess. 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. Tim. NobleYentidius! 'Vell; I am not of that feather to shake off 100 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. Mess. Your lordship ever binds him. Tim. 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. Mess. All happines... to your honour! [Exit.
2161
TIMON OF ATHENS 127 her resort. Access to her. 152 Vouchsafe. Accept.
2162
Act I Scene I
Enter a1t old Athenian. Old A th. Lord Timon, hear me speak. Tim. Freely, good father. lIO Old A tit. Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. Tim. I have so: what of him? Old A tit. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. Tim. Attends he here, or no? Lucilius I Luc. H ere, at your lordship's service. Old A tit. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, Bv 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. Tim. Well; what further? 120 Old A tft. One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: The maid is fair, 0' 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, e] oin with me to forbid him her resort; Myself have spoke in vain. Tim. The man is honest. Old A tit. Therefore he will be, Timon: His honesty rewards him in itself; 130 It must not bear my daughter. Tim. Does she love him? Old Atk. She is young and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity's in youth. Tim. [To Lllcilills] Love you the maid? Luc. Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. Old A tit. If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose l\Iine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all. Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband? 140 Old A tit. Three talents on the present; in future, all. Tim. 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 A tlr.. Most noble lord, Pa wn me to this your honour, she is his. Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, 150 'Which is not owed to vou ! [Exeunt L;,cilius and Old Athenian. e Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend? Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept. Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man;
Act I Scene I .For since dishonour traffics with man's nature, He is but outside: these penciU'd figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work; And you shall find r like it: wait attendance 161 Till you hear further from me. Pain. The gods presenTe ye ! Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under prai1ul Servant. Sec. Servo May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, Out of his free love, hath presented to YOll 1em. If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? All Servo Ay; would they served us! Apem. So would I,-a5 good a trick as ever hangman served thief. 100 Fool. Are you three usurers' men? All Serv. Ay, fool. FO(}'/. 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' hOJJse merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? Var. Servo I could render one. log AjJem. Do it then, that we may account thee a whore-master and a knave; which notwithstanding, thou shalt be no less esteemed. Var. S erv. What is a whoremaster, fool? Fool. A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. 'Tis a spiri t: sometime't appears like a lord; sometime like a lawyer; sometime like 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. 121 Var. Serf}. Thou art not altogether a fool. Fool. Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as I have, so much wit thou lackest. Afrm. That answer might have become Apemantus. All Servo Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon.
TIMON OF ATHENS
117-18 philosopher ... one. i.e. an a1chemistwhotransfonned base metal into gold, by a 'philosopher's stone' (with bawdy innuendo).
.a
• •
•
•
•
Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS. Aj>em. Come with me, fool, come. Fool. I do not always follow lover, elder brother and woman; sometime the philosopher. 131 [Exeunt Aj>emantus and Fool. Fla'll. Pray you, walk near: I '11 speak with you anon. [Exeunt Servants. Tt"m. 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? Fla'll. You would not hear me, At many leisures J proposed. Tim. Go to: Perchance some single vantages you took, When my indispositi')D put you back: And that unaptness made your minister, 140 Thus to excuse yourself. Fla'll. 0 my good lord, At many times J 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 went; Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you To hold your hand more close: I did endure Not seldom, nor no slight checks, when I have Prompted you in the ebb of your estate ISO And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, t'Thoug}t you hear now, too late-yet now's a timeThe greatest of your ha\;ng lacks a half To pay your present debts. Tim. Let aU my land be sold.
Alchemist at work. Detail from an engraving by Peter Bruegel the Elder, 1558
137 leisures. Occasions when you were free. 138 single 'vantages. Particular occasions. 144 in mine hon.est}'. i.e. you trusted that everything was correct because I appeared honest. 149 Not . .. checks. i.e. frequent and severe reprimands .
153 The. . . half. Eyerything you own is not even half enough.
2173
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act II Scene II
1&0 Lacedaemon. i.e. Sparta. 167 offices. Quarters. oppress'd. Crowded. 171 wasteful cock. A wine tap left open in waste. 175 englutted. Swallowed down.
181 flies are couch'd. Parasites are hidden.
Timon: 'Come, sermon me no further:' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846
189 Assurance . .. thoughts. May you be proved right.
Flav. 'Tis all engaged, some forfeitedandgone; And what remains will hardly stop the mouth Of present dues: the future comes apace : What shall defend the interim Y and at length How goes. our reckoning? • Tim. To Laceda:mon did my land extond. 160 Flav. 0 my good lord, the world is but a word: Were it all yours to give it in a breatht How quickly were it gone! Tim. You teU me true. Flav. 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, 170 .1 have retired me to a wasteful cock, And set mine eyes at flow. Tim. Prithee. no more. Flav. 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. Tz"m. Come, sermon me no further: No viHanous 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? SeCllIe thy heart; If I would broach the vessels of my love, And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, :\Ien and men's fortunes could I frankly use As I can bid thee !>1)Cak. • Flav. Assurance bless your thoughts! Tz"m. And, in some sort, these wants of tnine are crown'd, 190 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! FlanIinius! Servilius!
Ellter
FLlltMINIUS, SERVILIUS,
and otker
Servants.
Se1"lJants. My lord? my lord? Tim. 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. Flam. As you have said, my lord. Flav. [Aside] Lord Lucius and Luculluli! hum! Tim. Go you, sir, to the senatorsOf whom, even to the state's best health, I have
2174
Act III Scene I Deserved this hearing-bid 'em send 0' the instant A thousand talents to me. Fla'1l. I have been boldFor tha.t I knew it the most general way• To them to use your signet and your name; 210 But they do shake their heads, and I am here No richer in return. Tim. Is't true? can't be? Fla'll. 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 notSomething hath been amiss-a noble nature .May catch a wrench-would all were weIl-'tis pity;And so, intending other serious matters, .After distasteful looks and these hard fradions, • With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods They froze me into silence. Tt"m. You gods, reward them! Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: Their blood is caked, 't:'s cold, it seldom fiows; '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 Serv.] Go to Ventidius. [To Fla'll.] Prithee, be not sad, 229 .Thou art true and honest; in$.eniously I speak, No blame belongs to thee. [To Ser.] Ventidius lately Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd Into a great estate: when he was floor, Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, I cIear'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 [Ext't Ser.]. [To Flav.] 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. Flav. 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
210 signet. Signet ring. 218 -,Way . .. u:rench. :\'Iay be caught out.
220 fractions. Fractious remarks . 22'1 half-caps. Half-hearted salutations.
Ralph Richardson as Timon, Old Vic Theatre, London, I93 6
230 illgenious/y. Sincerely.
236-237 good . .. Touches. Real need affects.
ACT III. SCENE. 1.
A room t'n Lucullul house.
FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him. S erv. I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. Flam. I thank you, sir.
Enter LUCULLUS. Servo Here's mv lord. Lucul. [Aside) 'One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I warrant. Why, this hils right; I dreamt of a silver basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius; you are very -respeCtively welcome, sir. Fill me some wine. [Ext't Servant.] And how does that honourable, complete, freehearted gentleman of Athens, thy very boulltiful good lord and masted n
2175
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act III Scene II
Lucullus: 'Here's to thee.' Engraving from a classical
Greek vase 45 solidares. Shillings.
46 wink at. Close your eyes to. 68 hour. Last hour.
Flam. His health is weU, sir. Lucul. I am right glad that his health is wen, sir: and what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius f Flam. '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. 21 Lucul. 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. 31 Re-enter Servant, witk 'wine. Serv. Please your lordship, here is the wine. Lucul. Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. Flam. Your lordship speaks your pleasure. Lucul. I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt spirit-give thee thy due-and one that knows what belongs to reason; aIid canst use the time well, if the time use thee well : good parts in thee. (To Serv.] Get you gone, sirrah [ExitServ.]. Draw nearer, honest FlaminillS. Thy lord's lit 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. Flam. Is't possible the world should so much differ, And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, To him that worships thee! 51 [Throwing tM money back. L1~cul. Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. [Exit. Flam. May these add to the number that may scald thee! Let molten 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? 0 you gods, I feel my master's passion! this slave, Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: 60 Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, When he is turn'd to poison? 0, may diseases only work upon't! And, when he '5 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. SCENE
II.
A jublic place.
Enter LUCIUS, with three Strangers. Luc. Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and an honourable gentleman. First Strano We know him for no less, though we are but strangers to him. But I can tell you
2176
Act III Scene II 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. Luc. Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. 10 Sec. StratI. But believe you this, my lord, that, not iong 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. Lttc. How! Sec. Strano I tell you, denied, my lord. Luc. What a stpange case was that! now, before the gods, I am ashamed on't. Denied that honour'.ible 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 talent;;. Enter SERVILlUS. Ser. See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,[To Lucius. Luc. Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: commend me to th y honourable virtuous lord, my very exquisite friend. Ser. May it please your honour, my lord hath sentLltc. Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to that lord; he's erer sending: how shall I thank him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now~ Ser. Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; requesting your lordship to supply his instant use with so many talents. 41 Luc. I know his lordship is but merry with me; t He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. Ser. But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. eIfhis occasion were not virtuous, I should not urge it half so faithfully. Luc. Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? Ser. Upon my soul, 'tis true, sir. Luc. 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 honour! Servilius, now, before the gods, I am not able to do,-the more beast, I say:-1 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 affiiCl:ions, 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 '/ Ser. Yes, sa, I shall. Luc. I 'lllook you out a good tum, Servilius. [Exit Servilius. True, as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed;
TIMON OF ATHENS
45 'virtuous. Valid. 13 for a little part. t.e. for only a small amount of honour.
Athenian citizens. Nineteenth century engraving from Greek statues
Zln
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act III Scene III
69 speed. Succeed. 94 policy. Self-interest.
Sempronius: 'Must he needs trouble me in 't Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846 & touch'd. Tested. Gold and silver allo}'S may be identified by use of a touchstone, on which they make different
coloured marks. 14 my place. i.e. among his friends.
19 I'll . .. last. I shall be the last to settle with him. Z8 bates. Undervalues.
.And he that's once denied will hardly speed. [Exit. First Strano Do you observe this. Hostilius? Sec. Strano Ay, too well. 1{J First Strano 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 1- 80 He does deny him, in respeCt of his, What charitable men afford to beggars. Third Strano Religion groans at it. First Strano For mine own part, I never tasted Timon in my life, N or 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 T>ut my wealth into donation, go 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 ahove conscience. (Exeunt. ScENE
III. A roont in Sentpronius' house.
Ente,- SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant dTxMoN's. Sem. Must he needs trouble me in 't,-hum! -'hove 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. Servo My lord, eTheyhave all been touch'd and found base metal, for They have all denied him. Sem. 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 judgement in him: YO Must I be his last refuge? His friends, like physicians, tThrive, 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 sellse for't, But his occasions 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 it last? No: So it may prove an argument of laughter 20 To the rest, and 'mongstlords I be thought afoot 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.
2178
Act III Scene IV Servo 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 villanies 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. Thi!) was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, • Doors, that were nc' er acquainted with their wards Many a bounteous year, must be employ'd Now to guard sure their master. 40 And this is all a liberal course allows; Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house.
TIMON OF ATHENS
38 wards. Locks. 10 shine. i.e. rise like the sun.
[Exit. ScENE
IV. Tltesame. A hallinTim01t'shou.se.
E,tter two Servants of V ARRO, a1td the Servant ofLuclL's, meeting
TITUS, HORTEXSIUS,
altd
other Servants if TIMON'S creditors, wa£titzg kis comilzg out. First Var. Servo Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. The like to you, kind Varro. H or. Lucius! \Vhat, do we meet together! Lue. Servo Ay, and I think One business does command us all; for mine Is money. Tit. So is theirs and ours.
Tit.
Enter
PHILOTUS.
Luc. Servo And Sir Philotus too! PIti. Good day at once. Luc. Servo \Velcome, good brother. What do you think the hour? Phi. Labouring for nine. Lue. Serv. So much? Phi. Is 110t my lord seen yet? Lue. Servo Not yet. • Phi. I wonder on 't; he was wont to shine at seven. 10 Luc. Servo 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. Phi. I am of your fear for that. Tit. 1'11 show you how to observe a strange event. Your lord sends now for money. Ifor. :Most true, he does. Tit. And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, For which I wait for money. 20 Hor. It is against my heart. Lue. Servo 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. Hor. 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.
2179
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act III Scene IV
42 in a cloud. i.e. of gloom.
52 maws. Stomachs. 70 take 't of my soul. Believe me.
First Var. Servo Yes, mine's three thousand crowns; what's yours? Luc. Servo Five thousand mine. First Var. Servo 'Tis much deep; and it should seem by the sum, 30 Your Ulaster's confidence was abc.ve mine; Else, surely, his had equall'd.
Enter FLAMINIUs. Tit. One of Lord Timon's men. Luc. Servo l!'laminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to come forth ~ Flam. No, indeed, he is not. Tit. We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. Flam. I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. (Exit. 40
Elder FLAVIUS in a cloak, mu.ffled. Luc. Servo Ha! is not that his steward muffled so! .He goes away in a cloud: call hini, call him. Tit. Do you hear, sir? Sec. Var. Servo By your leave, sir,Flav. \Vhat do ye ask of me, my friend! Tit. We wait for certain money here, sir. Flav. Ay, If money were as certain as your waiting, 'Twere sure enough. \Vhy then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, \Vhen your false masters eat of my lord's meat? 50 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. Luc. Servo Ay, but this answer will not serve. Flav. If 'twill not serve, 'tis not so baseasyou; For you serve knaves. [Exit. First Var. Servo How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? 6I Sec. Var.Serv. No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge enough. \Vho can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? such may rail against great buildings.
E'1ter
SEI{VILIUS.
Tit. 0, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. Ser. 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. Luc. Servo 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. Ser. Good gods! Tit. We cannot take this for answer, sir. Flam. [Witkin] Servilius, helpl My lord! my lord!
2180
Act III Scene V· TIMON OF ATHENS Enter TIMON, in a rage; FLAMINIUsfoliowing. Tim. What, are my doors opposed against my passage? 80 Have I been ever free, and must my house .Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? The place which I have fe.asted, does it now, Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? Lite. SerlJ. Put in now, Titus. Tit. My lord, here is my bill Luc. Serl!. Here's mine. Hor. And mine, my lord. Both Var. SerlJ. And ours, my lord. Phi. All our bills. go Tim. Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. Lite. Serl!. Alas, my lord,Tim. Cut my heart in sums. Tt't. Mine, fifty talents. Tim. Tell out my blood. Luc. Servo Five thousand crowns, my lord. Tim. Five thousand drops pays that. What yours ?-and yours? First Var. Servo My lord,Sec. Var. Servo My lord,Tim. Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! [Exit. 100 • Hor. '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. Tim. They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. Creditors? devils I Flav. My dear Iord,Tim. What if it should be so! Fla'll. My lord,Tim. I'll have it so. My steward I Fla'll. Here, my lord. lIO Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: All, sirrah, all : I'll once more feast the rascals. FIa'll. 0 my lord, You only speak from your distraCted soul; There is not so much left, to furnish out A moderate table. Tim. 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. SCENB V.
The same.
.. ....-'..
-'4~ii!}~~!~P Timon: 'What, are my doors opposed allainst my pass.age?' Illustration by Gordon Browne for Henry Irvinll's Shakespeare, 1888
82 retentive. Confining. 101-102 throw ... money. i.e. give up their money as lost.
The senate-house.
Tke Senate sitting. First Sen. My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. Sec. Sen. Most true; the law shall bruise him. Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants. Aldb. Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! First Sen. Now, captain! A kib. I am an humble suitor to your virtues; For pity is the virtue of the law,
2181
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act III Scene V
24 undergo. Undertake. 27 form. Legal process. 34 prefer . .. heart. Assume his cries to come from the
heart. 45 repugnancy. Fighting back. 54 gust. i.e. outburst. 60 Lacedaemon and Byzantium. Two places; Sparta and Constantinople.
Constantinople. Engraving from John Speed'sAProspect of the Most Famous Parts of the World, 1631
2182
And none but tyrants use it cruelly. It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy 10 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 'to He is a man, setting his fate aside, Of comely virtues: Nor did he soil the fact with cowardiceAn honour in him which buys out his faultBut with a noble fury and fair spirit, Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, He did oppose his foe: 20 And with such sober and unnoted passion He did behave h;s anger, ere 'twas spent, As if he had but proved an argument. • First Sen. 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 : 30 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 ! Alcib. My lord,First Sen. Vou cannot make gross sins look clear: To revenge is no valour, but to bear. Alcib. My lords, then, under favour. pardon me, 40 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, 50 If wisdom be in suffering. 0 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 00 in anger is impiety; But who is man that is not angry 7 Weigh but the crime with this. Sec. Sen. Vou breathe in vain. A ldb. In vain! his service done .At Lacedcemon and Byzantium 60 Were a sufficient briber for his life. First Sen. What's that? A /cib. I say, my lords, he has done fair !'ervice, And slain in fight many of your enemies: How full of valour did he bear himself In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! Sec. Sen. He has made too much plenty with 'em;
Act III Scene VI 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 70 To overcome him: in that beastly fury He has been known to commit outrages, And cherish fadions: 'tis inferr'd to us, His days are foul and his drink dangerous. First Sen. He dies. Alei6. Hard fate! he might have died in war. My lords, if not for any parts in himThough 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 80 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 stria, and war is nothing more. First Se1t. We are for law: he dies; urge it no more, eOn height of our displeasure: friend or brother, He forfeits his own blood that spills another. A leib. Must it be so? it must not be. My lords, I do beseech you, know me. go Sec. Sen. How! A leiD. Call me to your remembrances. Tltird Sen. 'Vhat! A kiv. 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: 1\1 y wounds ache at you. First Sen. Do you dare our anger? 'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect; 'We banish thee for ever. A leib. Banish me ! Banish your dotage; banish usury, That makes the senate ugly. roo First Sell. If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee, Attend our weightier judgement. And, not to swell our spirit, He shall be executed presently. (Exeunt Se1Uttors. A leib. 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 Jet out Their coin upon large interest, I myself Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? eIs this the balsam that the llsuring senate no Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment! I t 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 eMy discontented troops, and lay for hearts. 'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds; Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room ill Til1tou's /louse . .Af1isic. Tables set Old: Servants attending. E,tter di1JerS Lords, Senators and others, at several doors. First Lord. The good time of day to you, sir.
TIMON OF ATHENS
87 On height. On pain of incurring.
Alcibiades: 'I have kept back their foes .. .' Engraving by Bartolomeo Pinelli, 182I 110 baLsam. Balm.
115 Layfor. Seek to win.
2183
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act III Scene VI
5 tiring. Worrying: the word is used to describe how a hawk pulls at its meat.
8-9 persuasion. Evidence.
11-12 earnest. Pressing. many my netJr occasions. My numerous engagements.
18 my . .. out. My money was already on loan.
Sec. 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. • Sec. Lord. It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. 9 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. Sec. 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. 20 Sec. Lord. Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of you? First Lord. A thousand pieces. Sec. Lord. A thousand pieces! First L01·d. What of you? Sec. Lord. He sent to me, sir ,-Here he comes. E,tter TIMON and Attendants. Tim. With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you?
First Lord.
Ever at the best, hearing well of
your lordship.
30
Sec. Lord.
Timon: 'feast your ears with the music awhile .. .' From a 19th century engraving of Greek musicians
52 cumber. Trouble.
Timon: 'Come, bring in all together.' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Works of Shakspere, 1846
2184
The swallow follows not summer more willing than we your lordship. Tim. [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 0' the trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently. First Lord. I hope it remailtS not unkindly with your lordship that I returned you an empty messenger. .p Tim. 0, sir, let it not trouble you. Sec. Lord. My noble lord,Tim. Ah, my good friend, what cheer? Sec. 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. Tim. Think not on 't, sir. Sec. Lord. If you had sent but two hours before,51 • Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance. [The banquet brought in.] Come, bring in all together. Sec. 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 ? Tltird Lord. Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it? 61 Firstand Sec. Lord. Alcibiades banished! Third Lord. 'Tis so, be sure of it. First Lord. How! how! Sec. Lord. I pray you, upon what? Tim. My worthy friends, will you draw near? ThirdLord. I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward.
Act III Scene VI
Sec. Lord. This is the old man still. Third Lord. Will 't hold? will 't hold? 70 Sec. Lord. It does: but time will-and soThird Lord. I do conceive. Tim. 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 benefaCl:ors, 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 god heads 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, Jet a dozen of them be-as .they are. t The rest of your fee~, 0 gods-the senators of Athens, together with the common lag of people-what is amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for destruCl:ion. 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 u1lcovered and seen to befull l!f warm water. Some speak. 'Vhat does his lordship mean? Some other. I know not• .Tim. May you a better feast never behold, You knot of mouth-friends! smoke and luke-warm water .Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; 100 Who) stuck and spangled with your flatteries, Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces Your reeking villany. (Thr(Tt.I)iltg tlw 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. III [Throws the dishes at them, and drives tkent out. What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. Bum, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be Of Timon man and all humanity! [Exit.
TIMON OF ATHENS
Costume design for Timon by Ralph Koltai, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1()65 77 first place. \Vho shall sit where. 89 fees. Subject creatures.
100 your perfection. The perfect image of you. last. Final appearance. 107 minute-jacks. i.e. fickle folk.
Re-enter the Lords, Senators, &>c. First Lord. How now, my lords! Sec. 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. 120 First LQrd. 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 capt Sec. Lord. Here 'tis. Fourth Lord. Here lies my gown.
2185
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scenes I & II
First Lord. Let's make no stay_ Sec. Lord. Lord Timon's mad. Third Lord. I feel't upon my bones. :130 Fourtlt Lord. One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. [.Exeunt.
ACT IV. SCENE
1.
Without the walls 0/ Athens. Enter TIMON.
0 thou wall, That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, .And fence not Athens I 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! 10 Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, .And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; Thy mistress is 0' 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, 20 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 J 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, 30 That their society, as their friendship, may Be 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 aUThe 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! 40 Amen. (Exit.
Tim. .Let me look back upon thee.
Timon: 'Let me look back upon thee.' Engraving by HenryFuseli, 1805
3 incontinent. Promiscuous. 12 pill. Steal. 14 lined. Padded. 18 mysteries. Professions.
25 liberty. Licentiousness. 28 blains. Blisters.
II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants. First Servo Hear you, master steward, where's
ScENE
our master? Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? F/a.v. Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, I am as poor' as you. First Servo Such a house broke! So noble a master faU'n ! All gone! and not One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
2186
Act IV Scene III And go along with him ! Sec. Servo As we do turn our backs From our companion thrown into his grave, • So his familiars to his buried fortunes 10 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. Flav. All broken implements of a ruin'd house. Third Servo 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, 20 Hearin~ the surges threat: we must all part Into thls sea of air. Flav. Good fellows all, .The latest of my we.alth 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 fortune.s, , 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. 0, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us ! 30 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 vamish'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? 40 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. 50 [Exit. ScENE
TIMON OF ATHENS
10 jomilia1's. Friends. 23 latest. Very last . 35 what state compounds. The splendour of high office or wealth.
Timon: '0 blessed breeding sun .. .' Engraving of the sun-god Phoebus and his chariot from a painting by Raphael,ISII 2 sister's orb. The moon's. 5 dividant. Different. touch. Test. several. Separate.
10 bear contempt hereditMY. Be treated with constant contempt.
III. Woods and cave, near the sea-slt.ore.
Enter TIMoN,/rom the.cave. 0 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 heJ'cditary, 10
Tim.
2187
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
12 lmds. Fattens. yother. Steer. 16 grise. A single step or stair.
22 His semblable. His like.
23 fang. Seize.
• Timon: 'Earth, yield me roots!' Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, 1776
27 I am no idle 'Cotorist. i.e. my curses are not empty. 38 wappen'd. Worn out.
39 spital-house. Hospital. 40 cast the gorge at. Vomit at the sight of.
41 To ... again. i.e. as fresh as a spring day.
42-43 odds ... nations. Sets the mobs of different nations against each other.
47 earnest. Evidence, proof. 59 gules. Red. &0 canons. Laws.
2188
The beggar native honour. • I t 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 leve1 in our cursed natures, But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd 20 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, .1 am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, \Vrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this 30 \Vm 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, 1fake 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 40 .To the April day again. Come, damned earth, • Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds Among the rout of nations, I will make thee Do thy right nature. [llfarck afar I?ff.l Ha! a drum 1 Thnu'rt quick, But yet 1'11 bury thee: thou'It go, strong thief, When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand• • Nay, stay thou out for earnest. [Keeping- some gold.
Enler ALCIBIADES, willt drum and fifo, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA. A leib. What art thou there? speak. Tim. A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, For showing me again the eyes of man! 50 Aldb. What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, That art thyself a man? Tim. I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something. A leib. I know thee well ; But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. Tim. 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; 60 Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine Hath in her more destruCtion than thy sword,
Act IV Scene III For all her cherubin look. Pkry. Thy lips rot off! Tim. I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns To thine own lips again. A ldb. How came the noble Timon to this change? Tim. 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. A ldb. Noble Timon, What friendship may I do thee? Tim. N one, but to 70 Maintain my opinion. A lcib. What is it, Timon? Tim. 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 ! A lcib. I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. Tim. Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. A lcib. I see them now; then was a blessed time. Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. • Tintan. Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world 80 .Voiced so regardfully? Tim. Art thou Timandra? Timan. Yes. Tim. 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. Timan. Hang thee, monster! A ldb. Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. go I have but little gold oflate, brave Timon, The want whereof doth Elaily 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,Tim. I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. Alcib. I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. Tim. How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? I had rather be alone. A ldb. Why, fare thee well: Here is some gold for thee. Tim. Keep it, I cannot eat it. 100 Alcib. When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? A ldb. Ay, Timon, and have cause. Tim. The gods confound them all in thy conquest; And thee after, when thou ha'it conquer'd! A ldb. Why me, Timon?
TIMON OF ATHENS
80 milU·on. Favourite.
81 Voiced so regardfully. Spoke of with such respect.
85 salt. Lecherous. 86 tllbs. Sweating tubs to treat venereal disease.
Costume design for Tima.l1dra by Ralph Koltai, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1965
2189
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
116 windvw-bars. i.e. lattice work of a dress. 122 sans. Without. 124 proof. Armour. 135 mountant. uplifted. vathable. Able to take an oath.
139 conditions. Xature. 141 strong in whore. Good prostitutes. 145 burthens. The hair of dead people. 155 quillets. Verbal niceties. HIJllT the flamen. \Yhiten the priest.
Opposite: Timon: 'Consumption sow In hollow bones of man;' Engraving from A. Pope's edition of The Works ... 1728
2190
Tim. 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: 110 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 milkpaps,
.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 120 Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, .And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; .\Vhose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, N or sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay thy soldiers: Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. A lei". Hast thou gold yet? 1'11 take the gold thou givest me, Not all thy counsel. 130 Tim. Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse upon thee! Pity. and Timan. Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? Tim. Enough to make a whore forswear her trade. Aud to make whores, a bawd. Hold uP. you sluts, .Vour 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, .1 '11 trust to your conditions: be whores still; And he whose pious breath seeks to CODvert you, .Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; 14I 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 .\Vith 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! Pity. and Timan. 'VeIl, more gold: what then? Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. ISO Tim. 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. .N or sound his q uillets shrilly: hoar the flam en,
Act IV Scene III
TIMON OF ATHENS
2191
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
160 general weal. General well-being. cUTI'd-pau. Curly-headed.
Phrynia and Timandra: 'More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon.' Engraving from a painting by John Opie (1761-18o?)
184 Hyperioll. Greek sun-god. 187 Ensear. Dry up.
189 Go great. Get pregnant. 193 leas. Fields. 195
unClftOlIS.
Rich.
That scolds against the quality of flesh, And not believes himself: do\Vn 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; 160 And let the unscarr'd bragg-arts of the war Derive some pain from you: plague all ; That your activity may defeat and queU The SOUl'Ce of all ereCtion. There's more gold: Do you damn others, and let this damn you, And ditches grave you all! Pkr. a1zd Timan. More counsel with more money. bounteous Timon. Tim. More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. A/cib. Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: If I thrive well, I 'll visit thee again. 170 Tim. If I hope well, I 'II never see thee more. A/cib. I never did thee harm. Tim. Yes, thou spokest well of me. A/db. Call'st thou that harm? Tim. Men daily find it. Get thee away. and take Thy beagles with thee. A lew. We but offend him. Strike! [Drum beats. Exeunt A lcibi'ades, Pkrynia, a1ld Timandra. Tim. 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, 181 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 npward face Hath to the marbled mansion all above 191 Never presented !-O, a root,-dear thanks!.Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; Whereof ingratefuI man, with liquorisb draughts .And morsels unCtuous, greases his pure mind, That from it all consideration slips!
Enter APEMANTUS. More man? plague, plague! Apem. I was directed hither: men report Thou dost affeCt my manners, and dost use them. Tim. 'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, 200 Whom I would imitate! consumption catch thee! Apem. 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.
2192
Act IV Scene III Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive 210 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 gayest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just . That thou turn rascal; hadst than wealth again, Rascals should h:l.Ve't. Do not assume my likeness. Ti1ll. Were I like thee, I'ld throwaway myself. Apent. Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; 220 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 t~ste, To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures Whose naked natures live in all the spite .Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, To the conflicting elements exposed, 230 Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; 0, thou shalt findTim. A fool of thee: depart. Ape-m. I love thee better now than e'er I did. Tim. I hate thee worse. Apem. Why? Tim. Thou flatter'st misery. • Aje1n. I flatter not; but say than art a caitiff. Tint. Why dost thou seek me out? Apem. To vex thee. Tim. Always a villain's office or a fool's. Dost please thyself in 't? Apem. Ay. Tim. What! a knave too? • Apem. If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but than 240 Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery Outlives in certain pomp, is crown'd before : The one is filling still, never complete; The other, at high wish: best state, contentles~, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse than the worst, content. Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. Tim. Not by his breath that is more miserable. Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm 2'50 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 sngar'd game before thee. But myself, 'Who had the world as my confeCtionary, 260 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
TIMON OF ATHENS
212 observe. Obsequiously serve. 222 chamberlain. Valet. 22& Candied, Encrusted. caudle, i.e. nurse.
229 wreakful. Vengeful. unhoused. Uncovered. 235 caitiff. Wretch. 239 habit. Appearance.
252 first mHlth. Swaddling clothes. 262 frame. Provide with.
2193
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
268 sujJemllce. Suffering.
283 melld. Improve. 285 botch'd. Patched up. 291 hired. By lending or borrowing. 303 CIlriosity. Fastidiousness. 305 medlar. Small hard fruit with a harsh flavour, resembling a brown-skinned apple.
Apemantus: 'There's a medlar for thee, eat it.' Engraving from Bell's edition of Shakespeare, I773
312 after his meall.f. i.e. when his money had gone.
2194
Do on the oak, have 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? 269 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. Apem. Art thou proud yet? Tim. Ay, that I am not thee. AjJem. I, that I was No prodigal. Tim. 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! 281: Thus would I eat it. [Eatillg a rO()t. Apem. Here; I will mend thy feast. [Offerillg kim a root. • Tim. First mend my company, take away thyself. Apem. So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. • Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; If not, I would it were. Ape11t. \Vhat wouldst thou have to Athens? Tim. Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. Apml. Here is no use for gold. Tim. The best and truest; 290 .For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. Apem. Where liest 0' nights, Timon? Tim. Under that's above me. Where feed'st thou 0' days, Apemalltus? Apem. Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat it. T£m. Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! A j;em. Where wouldst thou send it Y Tim. To sauce thy dishes. 299 Apem. 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 con.trary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it. Tim. On what I hate I feed not. Apem. Dost hate a medlar? Tim. Ay, though it look like thee. A pem. An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst have loved thyself better now. '''nat man didst thou ever know unthrift that .was beloved after his means? Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved? Apem. Myself. Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog. Apem. What things in the world canst thou nearest compare to thy flatterers? 319 Tim. Women nearest; but men, men are the things themselves. What wouldst thou do with
Act IV Scene III the world, Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? Apem. Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. Tim. Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of men, and remain a beast with the beasts? Ajem. Ay, Timon. Tim. 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 thee: if thou wert the fox, the lion wOl!ld 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 germa.n 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 beastY and what a beast art thou already, that seest not thy loss in transformation! 349 Apem. If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou mightst have hit upen it here: the commonwealth of Athens is become a forest of beasts. Tim. How has the ass broke the wall, that theu art out of the city? Afrm. Yonder comes a peet and a painter: the plague of company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it and give way: when I knew not what else to do, I 'll see thee again. 359 Tim. 'Vhen there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. Ajem. Thou art the cap of all the foels alive. Tim. Would thou wert clean enough te spit upen! Afrm. A plague on thee! theu art too bad to curse. Tim. All villains that de stand by thee are pure. Ajem. There is no leprosy but what theu speak'st. Tim. If I name thee. I'll beat thee, but 1 sheuld infect my hands. Afrm. I would my tengue could rot them off! Tim. Away, theu issue efa mangy dog! 371 Cheler does kill me that thou art alive; .1 swound to see thee. Ape1H. Would thou wouldst burst! Tim. Away, Thou tedieus regue! I am serry 1 shall lose [Throws a stone at /,im. A stone by thee. Aj>em. Beast! Tim. Slave! AJe",. Tead! Tim. Regue, regue, rogue! I am sick ef 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 of the sea may beat Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, 380
TIMON OF ATHENS
Timon: 'wert thou the unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee .. .' Woodcut from Edward Topsell's The History' of Four-footed Beasts, 1658
344 german. Akin .
346 remotion. Keeping apart . 373 swoltnd. Faint.
2195
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
384 Hymen. God of marriage. Mars. God of war. 387 Dian. Goddess of chastity.
Diana bathing with her nymphs. Engraving from a painting by Dominiquin, 1803
That death in me at others' lives may laugh. [To the gold] 0 thou sweet king-killer, and dear divoJlCe 'Twixt natural son and sire 1 thou bright defiler .Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! Thou ever young, fl:esh, 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! 0 thou touch of hearts! 390 Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue Set them mto confounding odds, that beasts May have,the world in empire! Ajem. Would'twere so! But not tm I am dead. 1'11 say thou'st gold; Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. Tim. Throng'd to ! Alent. Ay. Tim. Thy back, I prithee. Ajem. Live, and love thy misery. • Tim. Long live so, and so die. [Ezit Apemantus. ) I am quit. Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them.
Enter Banditti.
397 quit. Rid of him.
First Ban. Where should he have this gold? .It is some poor fragment, some slender ort of his
400--401 slender ... remainder. Tiny portion of his for-
remainder: the mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his friends, drove him into this melancholy. Sec. Ban. It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. Third Ban. Let us make the assay upon him: ifhe care not for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously reserve it, how shall's get it? Sec. Ban. True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. First Ban. Is not this he! 410 Banditt,: Where? Sec. Ban. 'Tis his description. TlUrd Ban. He; I know him. Bantiitti. Save thee, Timon. Tim. Now, thieves? Banditti. Soldiers, not thieves. Tim. Both too; and women's sons. Bandit/i. Weare not thieves, but men that much do want. Tim, Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. Why should you want! Behold, the earth hath roots; 420 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 Ban. We cannot live on grass, on ber· ries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes. Tim. Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; • y ou 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 430 In limited professions. Rascal thieves,
tune.
428 con. i.e. give.
2196
Act IV Scene III Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood 0' 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 '5 an arrant thief, 440 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 'uncheck'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, 450 But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this I give you: and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. Third Ban. Has almost charmed me from my profession, by persuading me to it. First Ban. 'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises us: not to have us thrive in our mystery. Sec. Ban. I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. 460 First Bait. Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time so miserable but a man may be true. [Exeunt Ballditti.
TIMON OF ATHENS
Illustration of the Bandits by Wyndham Lewis, 1913 433 high fever. i.e. drunkenness. 444 composture. Compost. 447 ulIcheck'd theft. Unrestrained ability to steal. 472 time's guise. Way of the world.
473 'a-ish'd. Commanded.
E uter FLAVIUs. Flav. 0 you gods! Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? Full of decay and failing? 0 monument And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd I What an alteration of honour Has desperate want made! What viler thing upon the earth than friends 470 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! Tim. Away! what art thou? Flav. Have you forgot me, sir? Tim. Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men' 480 Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. Flav. An honest poor servant of yours. Tim. Then I know thee not: I never had honest man about me, I; all I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. Flav. The gods are witness, Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. 2197
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act IV Scene III
Tim.
Timon: 'Pity's sleeping: Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping!' Watercolour of Pity by William Blake (1757-1827) 50Z ex.ceptless. Making no exceptions.
523 unmatched. Unrivalled.
2198
What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I love thee, Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st 490 Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! Flav. 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 Tim. 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 500 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,-andhe'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, 510 Thou mightst have sooner got another service: For many so arrive at second masters, Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me tmeFor I must eyer doubt, though ne'er so :,ureIs not thy kindness subtle, covetous, If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, ExpeCl;ing in return twenty for one? Fla'fJ. No, my most worthy master; in whose breast Doubt and suspeCl;, alas, are placed too late: You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: 520 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 ill hope or present, I'ld exchange For this one wish, that you had power an.d wealth To requite me, by making rich yourself Tim. Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest rnan, 530 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. Fla'fJ. 0, let me stay, 540 And comfort you, my master. Tim. If thou hatest curses, Stal' 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 car-'e.
Act V Scene I ACT V. SCENE
1.
The woods.
Bifore TimQn's cave
E liter Poet mId Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave. Pain. 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? PaiTt. 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. P«t. Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. II • P(~in. Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore 'tis 110t 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 and true report that goes of his having. Poet. What have you now to present unto him! Paz"n. Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will promise him an excellent piece. 2I Poet. I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent that's coming toward him. Pai1t. 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 ad; 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 te5tament which argues a great sickness in his judgement that makes it. [Timo1t comes from hz's cave, kkiNd. Tim. [Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst 110t 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 0pulency. Tim. [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, \Vhen we may profit meet, and come too late. Pain. True; \Vhen the day serves, before black-corner'd night, Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. • Tint. [Aside] I'U meet you at the turn. What a god's gold, SO That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple Than where swine feed! 'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'51 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. [Comingforwarti. P«t. Hail, worthy Timon! Pablo Our late noble master! Ti11l. Have I once lived to see two honest men?
TIMON OF ATHENS
12 a palm. i.e. flourishing.
25 air 0' the time. Fashion. 50 I'll meet you at the turn. i.e. I'll catch you with your
own tricks.
2199
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act V Scene I
.. ,-,
,
,-
..
~
.s. ;,
";.
'
.....,
"
... ··T
~
F. R Benson as Timon, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1882 73 travail'd. Laboured.
83-84 Thau . .. Athens. You create the best portraits in Athens.
98 cog. Cheat. 99 patchery. Roguery. 101 made-up. Thorough.
2200
Poet. Sir, 60 Having often of your open bounty tasted, He.aring you were retired, your friends fall'n off, Whose thankless natures-O abhorred spirits i N at all the whips of he.aven 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. Tim. Let it go naked, men may see 't the better: You that are honest, by being what you are, 71 Make them best seen and known. Pain. He and myself .Have travail'd in the gre.at shower of your gifts, And sweetly felt it. Tim. Ay, you are honest men. Pabl. We are hither come to offer you our service. Tim. 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. Tim. Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have 9:01d; I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. 80 Pain. So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore Came not my friend nor I. • Tim. Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; Thou counterfeit'st most lively. Pain. So, so, my lord. T,·m. 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, Iny honest-natured friends., I must needs say you have a little fault: go .Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I You take much pains to mend. Both. Beseech your honom To make it known to us. Tim. You'll take it ill. Both. Most thankfully, my lord. Tim. Will you, indeed? Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord. Tim. There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, That mightily deceives you. Both. Do we, my lord? • Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, .Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured 100 .That he's a made-up villain. Pab.. I know none such, my lord. Poet. Nor I. Tim. 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. B(lth. Name them, my lord, let's kf'.ow them. Tim. You that way and you this, but two in company;
Act V Scene I Each man apart, all single and alone, 110 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 tltem Otlt, mId then retires to his cave.
E n!er FLAVIUS and two Senators. Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; For he is set so only to himself 120 That nothing hut himself which looks like man Is friendly with him. First Sen. Bring us to his cave: I t is our part and promise to the Athenians To speak with Timon. Sec. Sen. 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. Flav. Here is his cave. 129 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
TIMON OF ATHENS
147 too general, gross. Too public and excessive. ' __151 hath .. . fail. i.e. now sensing its own failiIl/..'S. 152 sorrow'd render. Sad confession. 157 jiguY(!s. 'Images' and 'accounts'.
The Athenians appealing to Timon for help. Painting by Thomas Couture (1815-1879)
comes/rom his cave.
Tin,. Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and be hang'd: For each true word, a blister! and each false Be as a cauterizing to the root 0' the tongue, Consuming it with speaking! First Sen. Worthy Timon,Tim. Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. First Sen. The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague, 140 Could I but catch it for them. First Sen. 0, 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. Sec. Sen. They confe~ .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 ISO Of it own fail, restraining aid to Timon; • And send forth us, to nlake 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 oflove 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. Tim. You witch me in it:
2201
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act V Scene I
165 Allow'd. Endowed. 183 whittle. Clasp-knife.
Timon: 'Be A1cibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough!' Engraving by Kenny Meadows from Barry Cornwall's The Complete Works of Shakspere,
1857-59 196 bruit. Rumour.
206 prevent. Anticipate.
2202
Surprise me to the very brink of tears: Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, I60 And 1'11 beweep these comforts, worthy senators. First Setl. 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, .A110w'd with absolute power and thy good name Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back Of Alcibiades the approaches 'vild, Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up His country's peace. Sec. Sen. And shakes his threatening sword Against the walls of Athens. First Sen. Therefore, Timon,- 170 Tim. Well;sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: If A1cibiades kill my countrymen, Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, That Timon cares not. But if he 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, 180 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 Ileaveyou To the proteCtion of the prosperous gods, As thieves to keepers. Flav. Stay not, all's in vain. Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph; It will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness Of health andliving now begins to mend, xgo And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still ; Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough! First Sen. We spealc in vain. Tim. But yet I love my country, and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck, .As common bruit doth put it. First Sm. That's well spoke. Tim. Commend me to my loving countrymen,First Sen. These words become vour lips as they pass thorough them. Sec. Sen. And enter in our ears like great triumphers In their applauding gates. Tim. Commend me to them, 200 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: eI'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. First Sen. I like this well; he will return again. Tim. 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, 2IO Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree From high to low throughout, that whoso please
Act V Scenes II & III
TIMON OF ATHENS
To stop affiittion, let him take his haste, Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. Flav. Trouble him no further; thus you sti.ll shall find him. Tim. Come not tome 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 220 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 infettion mend! Graves only be men's works and death their gain! Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Retires to Itis cave. • First Sen. His discontents are imremoveably Coupled to nature. Sec. Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, • And strain what other means is left unto us 230 • In our dear peril. First Sm. It r:equires swift foot. [Exeunt. ScENE
•
II. Before tlte walls of Atltens.
Enter two Senators and a Messenger. First Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files As full as thy report! Mess. I have spoke the least: Besides, his expedition promises Present approach. Sec. Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; Whom, though in general part we were opposed, t Yet our old love made a particular force, And made us speak like friends: this man was riding From AIcibiades to Timon's cave, xo With letters of entreaty, which inlported His fellowship i' the cause against your city, In part for his sake moved. First Sen. Here come our brothers.
Enter the Senators from TIMON. Third SUI. 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.
III.
The woods. Timon's ca'lJt!, and a rude tomb seen. Entera Soldier, seeking-TIMoN. Sold. By all description this should be the place. Who's here? speak,ho I 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 1'11 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. %0 ScENE
Ralph Richardson as Timon, Old Vic Theatre, London, 1956
227-228 His ... nature. i.e. this bitterness is of his wry being.
230 straill. Consider. 231 deal'. Grie\·ous.
1 files. Ranks. 15 fearful scouring. Fearsome scurrying about. 17 OUI'S trap.
. •.
snare. i.e. our part I fear is to fall into their
6 character. Inscription.
2203
TIMON OF ATHENS
Act V Scene IV
·rI ~.
~........
Alcibiades: 'Sound to this cQ'l,vard and lascivious town Our terrible approach.' J. R. Wallack as Alcibiades, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, x8x6 5 scope. Aim. 7 trm:ersed. Crossed. breathed. Spoken.
8 sufferance. Suffering. flush. Ripe.
9 crouching marrou'. Latent courage. 14 conceit. Idea.
31 a tithed death. i.e. the killing of one man in every ten.
34 iTy the hazard of the spotted die. By the throw of a dice. 35 Let ... spotted. May the guilty die.
36 square. Just.
43 cull . .. forth. Cut out the diseased. 47 rampired. Fortified.
2204
SCENE
IV.
Before tke 'walls of Athens.
Trumjets sound. Enter ALCIBlADES with kis powers. A leib. 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, I I And pursy insolence shall break his wind With fear and horrid flight. First Sm. 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. Sec. Sen. So did we woo Transformed Timon to our city's love By humble message and by promised means: 20 We were not all unkind, nor all deserve The common stroke of war. First Se1J. 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. Sec. Sen. 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: 30 .By decimation, and a tithed deathI f 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 Sen. 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 40 Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall With those that have offended; like a shepherd, .Approach the fold and cull the infetl:ed forth, But kill not all together. Sec. Sen. What thou wilt, Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile Than hew to 't with thy sword. First Sen. 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. Sec. Sen. Throw thy glove, Or any token of thine honour el'lC, 50 That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress
Act V Scene IV And not as our confusion, all thy powers Shall make their harbour in our town, till we Have seal'd thy full desire. Aldb. 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 60 Of regular justice in your city's bounds, Rut shall be render'd to your public laws At heaviest answer. Botlt. 'Tis most nobly spoken. A leib. Descend, and keep your words. [The Senators descend, a1zd open tke gates.
E1tler Soldier. Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead; Entomb'd upon the very hem 0' the sea; .And on his grave-stone this insculpture, whicl) With wax I brought away, whose soft impression Interprets for my poor ignorance. Aldb. [R~adsthupitapkJ 'Hereliesa wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: 70 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 ollr human griefs, Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our droplets which • From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make va.st N eptu'le weep for aye On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead Is noble Timon: of whose memory 80 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.
TIMON OF ATHENS
55 uncharged. Unassailed. POTtS. Gates.
58 Fall. Let them fall.
60 pass his quarter. Exceed his duty. 67 insculpture. Inscription . 73 stay . .. gait. i.e. don't stop here . 74 These. These words.
Alcibiades: ' ... to make vast Neptune weep'. Neptune, the god of the sea. From a 17th century engraving 77 lliggard. Parsimonious.
82 the olit:e. i.e. mercy . 83 stillt. Stop. 84 leech. Physician .
2205
Pericles 1608
THE ABORTlVENESS OF Tn'ION OF ATHENS something new ,,",'as demanded, and Shakespeare certainly produced it with Pericles. \Ve must remember that, in spite of the unsatisfactoriness of the text that has come dmyn to us, the play was exceptionally successful: ,ve have plenty of evidence of that. Then, too, we must never forget the bearing of external circumstances upon the mind of a practical dramatist with a strong box-office sense. AFTER
John Gower. The subject of Pericles was, as usual with Shakespeare, in the air at the time. Among other publications the story came to mind again with a new edition in 1607 of Lawrence Twine's The Pattern of Painful Ad-ventures. Shakespeare took a few touches from this into his play, but far more important to him was the version of the story which he read up in John Gower's COllfessio Amantis. 'vVe know that Shakespeare, very much a reading man, read his Chaucer; but Chaucer's contemporary, Gower, was visible to the dramatist in the neighbouring church of St. Saviour's, which dominated the whole of Southwark. His youngest brother, Edmund, another actor, was buried in the church in December 1607, with a knell which presumably the prosperous older brother paid for. Within the church a dominating visual image was the splendid monument of the old poet - who had been a benefactor of the church in his time - dating from the reign of Henry IV. There he lies in effigy, full length under a Gothic canopy, his head resting upon his three chief works, one of which is the Confessio Amantis, which \-vas Shakespeare's chief reading for his play. \Ve have seen that, with his unsleeping observancy, he was very conscious of monuments and tombs. In the play Pericles says, on the way to recognising his lost daughter Marina: yet thou dost look Like Patience gazing on kings' graves and it is thought that he had some such sculpted figure in mind. This is very likely, for 2206
Introduction
Southwark was where the famous monumental workshops were located (whence his own monument at Stratford would come in a few years). For his play he thought up something new indeed, and gave the whole thing an archaic framework, with John Gower as Chorus, most of his speeches in antique English and octosyllabic couplets like his own. These introduce the first acts; the fifth has Prologue and Epilogue in rhyming pentameter. Very many rhymed couplets occur in the playthe trouble is that an unintelligent reporter, with a pedestrian mind, reported the first two acts. Even here we have recognisable Shakespearean touches, in words and phrases. The function of Gower's speeches goes back to the Chorus of Henry V (with additional propriety, for that was Gower's period), introducing us to the action and leaping over space and time. Altogether the figure of the poet Gower is singularly important to the scheme of the play.
Adventure. The subject of the play is the extraordinary adventures of Pericles - as is the emphasis of Twine's title, The Pattern of Painful Advelltu1'es: what gave it its appeal. Ben Jonson thought it 'a mouldy tale' - and it certainly was very ancient, going back to Apollonius of Tyre, whom Shakespeare had known about from much earlier. But the public loved it: Pericles fleeing from the Court of Antiochus, after guessing the guilty secret of his incest with his daughter; his travels by sea, in the course of which his daughter, :\tJarina, was born to his wife, Thaisa, ,vhom he had won at the Court of Pentapolis; the wife's presumed death in childbirth, her coffin thrown overboard, ,vhich yet arrives on land, with Thaisa awakening out of her trance to become a Vestal at Ephesus; :Marina's rescue from pirates, and her more admired rescue from the dangers of the brothel at :.vlytilene; Pericles meeting ""ith his lost daughter, and the eventual
PERICLES
Aboye left: Till' I -/tll eel/tury poet Johll Gout'r, as Chorlls in Pericles. From the title page of George Wilkins' The Painful Ad"enture of Pericles, Prince of Tyre , If)!)S I Aboye: 11wisa lifted from IIer coflill. Frontispiece to Rfnl'e'S editioll of Shakespeare's Works, 1709
ZZ07
PERICLES
Introduction
Above: A pamphlet advertising the advantages of the new Virginia settlement at Jamestown, published in Lmrdon two years after its foundation. Above right: Ralegh, whose second Virginia colony at Roanoke right came to a mysterious end after IS87
2208
Introduction
PERICLES
-_
•.......•...
recognition and reunion of all three at Ephesus, with a husband found for '.\'1arina in the Governor of '.\'1ytilene. Lost and Found might be a subtitle for the play, and such a farrago of adventures certainly needed a Chorus to fit them all together and tell us where we are - otherwise we should be lost. The sea is everywhere in the play, as again in The Tempest, with quite a role also in The Winter's Tale. The reason is not far to seek. Jacobean London was filled with news of the first English colony, at last, in America and the voyages thither, to New England as well as to Virginia. Hundreds of leading figures subscribed to the Virginia Company (Southampton was to become its Treasurer), i.e. they became 'venturers' in contemporary terms (most of them lost their venture). These later plays of Shakespeare all bear evidences of his reading not only of Hakluyt, as earlier, but of the pamphlets giving news of the voyages and ventures across the Atlantic. Voyages, the sea, storms and tempests, shipwrecks, the sea-shore, pirates, crews - the later plays are full of it all; nor is it at all surprising: the most sensitive register of the time noticed, as Dr. Johnson observed, everything.
Above: The dangers and terrors of the sea, aptly portrayed by tile younger Bruegel
Date and Time. Nor is there any difficulty about these: they are obvious. The reprint of Twine's novel came out in 1607; Shakespeare's brother was buried in Gower's church in the same year; the Venetian ambassador saw the play not later than 1608; and in that year George Wilkins cashed in on the success of the play with his novel, The Painful Ad'ventures of Pericles, Prince of Tyre. A pamphlet of 1609 bears further witness to the success of the play: 2209
PERICLES
Introduction Amazed I stood to see a crowd Of civil throats stretched out so loud ... So that I truly thought all these Came to see Shore or Pericles. George \Vilkins has an interest of his own; for, like Shakespeare, he kne\v the Montjoies and their house in Silver Street, and gave evidence also in the law-case concerning their daughter and son-in-law. The young couple, whom Master Shakespeare had sponsored, came to lodge in the tavern which Wilkins kept in Turnmill Street. 1 This was frequented by theatre-folk, and he himself tried his hand, with little success, at writing plays as well as this novel. The more we know about these people the more we see how they relate, and things come together. Common sense and research are what is needed, not academic conjectures.
Turning Point. Everything shows that a turning point \>;as reached, not only in Shakespeare's work but in his life. Even the unimaginative Chambers was 'subjective' enough (his own phrase for it) to posit a possible breakdown for the dramatist at this time. But we do not need to be subjective: consider the objective, external circumstances. After the successful production of Pericles, the theatres were closed on account of plague from July 1608 for eighteen months. One cannot over-estimate the disturbance plague periodically created for contemporary life, but especially for theatre people. With plague raging in London, and the theatres closed, it is pretty certain that Shakespeare retired to the country, and to a full renewal of family life. It is most likely that from these decisive years 1608-{) he was based at Stratford: when he gave evidence in the Montjoie suit in 1612 he had to come up from the country; a second set of interrogatories could riot be put to him, for he had gone back there. At Stratford his mother died in 1608; but a new life was forming around the young couple - the intelligent Susanna and the able doctor, her husband - and Shakespeare's only grandchild, Elizabeth, was born this year. The intermission of playing gave opportunity for the discussions that took place prior to a further decisive event, the resolution on the part of the Burbages and Shakespeare to take over Blackfriars as an indoor playing-house. This was a step of great importance for the future. Blackfriars had a smaller, more sophisticated upper-class audience, which paid better; it had had, from the Boys' Companies, a tradition of music. Shakespeare now became a part-owner of Blackfriars under the new dispensation; but it also offered a new challenge, and new opportunities, for his writing. It ,"vas natural that he, always ready to move with public taste, should experiment, now that he \vas to write for two audiences, that at the Globe and the other at Blackfriars. This is evident in the plays of his last period.
The Play. The experiment of Pericles was a great success, for the public was given
I. cf. Roger Prior, 'The life of George Wilkins', Shakespeare Survey 25, 137 foIl.
2210
everything: not only romantic adventures, and surprising recognitions, but a dumbshow, something like a masque, a dance, a tilt, and a great deal of music: some of it lost, the song Marina sings, for example. Several times music is invoked: The still and woeful music that we have, Cause it to sound, beseech you. The viol once more; how thou stir'st, thou block! The music there!
Introduction
PERICLES
This is to aid in bringing Thaisa back to life, but it is called in at other junctures. Altogether, it was spectacular, as well as new. For all its newness, much is recognisable. The brothel scenes and characters, the Bawd and Boult, are after the fashion of Measure for lVleasure, and the generous helpings of bawdy would have been another factor making for success. Some of them are commonplace gags, others stamped Shakespearean: For your bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go with warrant. Faith, some do, and some do not. There was a Spaniard's mouth watered, and he went to bed to her very description [Marina's]. We find the phrase, 'the deed of darkness', Shakespeare's word for it before. Another regular touch we have noticed is Boult's, '\Vhat would you have me do? Go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one?' The name of 'the great pirate Valdez' obviously comes from the Spanish commander whom Drake captured from the Armada of 1588. A touch of the time comes when the knights tilt and King Simoni des says to his lords: We will withdraw into the gallery. This was just how Queen Elizabeth viewed the tilts, from her gallery looking down into the tilt-yard below.
Text and Publication. The whole problem of Pericles - to which so much discussion has been devoted, mostly beside the point and to little illumination - relates to the text and circumstances of publication. We must keep in mind the hiatus, the upheaval, caused by the plague and Shakespeare's absence from London. The Company obtained a blocking entry for their very successful play in 1608. But next year a publisher got hold of a text of the play, put together by one or two reporters, and published it, a very poor text, the first two acts badly reported, and much of it badly printed. There was such a demand for it - perhaps all the more on account of the theatres being closed - that another printing was called for the same year; and yet a third in 16II - six altogether before the horrid Puritans (to whom the play has a reference) closed the theatres altogether. Heming and Condell did not print the play, for all its success, in the Folio of 1623 presumably because they had no decent text of it available. The simplest explanation is always best, and the circumstances of 1608-9 make it understandable. All sorts of conjectures have been made, as to divided authorship, unsatisfactory printers, different compositors, etc. Sad as it is, we are grateful for a torso of a play, as with Timon, rather than none at all.
2211
PERICLES. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. The Daughter of Antiochus. DroNVZA, wife to Clean. THAISA, daughter to Simonides. MARINA, daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.• LVCHORIDA, nurse to Marina. A Bawd.
ANTIOCHUS, king of Antioch. PERICLES, prince of Tyre. HELICANUS, } I d f T yre. ESCANES, two or s 0 SIMONIDES, king of Pentapolis. CLEON, governor of Tarius. LVSIMACHUS, governor of Mytilene. CERIMON, a lord of Ephesus. THALIARD, a lord of Antioch. PHILEMON, servant to Cerimon. LEONINE, servant to Dionyza. Marshal. A Pandar. HOUL T, his servant.
Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates, Fishermen, and Messengers. DIANA. GOWER, as Chorus. SCENE: Dispersedly in vario1ls countries.
• A bullet beside a te:xt line indicates an annotation in the opposite column.
ACT I.
Enter GOWER.
•
•
Before the palace of Antioch.. To sing a song that old was sung', From ashes ancient Gower is come; Assuming man's infirmities, To glad your ear, and please your eyes. It hath been sung at festivals, On ember-eves and holy-ales; And lords and ladies in their lives Have read it for restoratives: The purchase is to make men glorious; Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius. If you, born in these latter times, When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
6 embeY-/!'t'es. Evenings before fasting days. holy-ales. Parish festivals to raise money for the church. 10
10 Et . .. melius. i.e. the older the better. Opposite: Marina with Pericles. Engraving by Henry Fuseli (1741-1825)
221-3
PERICLES
Act I Scene I
3Z frante. Journey. 39 wight. :\ian.
1 at large rfceit·ed. Fully understood. 7 JO'l:e. God of heavens.
8 Lllcina. Goddess of childbirth.
•
•
And that to hear an old man sing May to your wishes pleasure bring, I life would wish, and that I might Waste it for you, like taper-light. This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat; The fairest in all Syria, I tell you what mine authors say: 20 This king unto him took a fere, Who died and left a female heir, . So buxom, blithe, and full of face, As heaven had lent her all his grace; With whom the father liking took, And her to incest did provoke: Bad child; worse father! to entice his own To evil should be done by none: But custom what they did begin Was with long use account no sin. 30 The beat;ty of this sinful dame Made many princes thither frame, To seek her as a bed-fellow, In marriage-pleasures play-fellow: Which to prevent he made a law, To keep her still, and men in awe, That whoso ask'd her for his wife, His riddle told not, lost his life: So for her many a wight did die, As yon grim looks do testify. 40 What now ensues, to the judgement of your eye I give, my cause who best can justify. [Exit. SCENE
I.
Antioch.
A room in the palace.
Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and followers. • Ant. Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received rhe danger of the task you undertake. Per. I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul Embolden'd with the glory of her praise, Think death no hazard in this enterprise. Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, .For the embracements even of Jove himself; .At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd, Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence, The senate-house of planets all did sit, 10 To knit in her their best perfeetions. Pericles: 'See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring ... ' Detail from the painting 'Primavera' by Sandro Botticelli (1444-1510)
Z7 Hesperides. Legendary orchard guarded by a dragon.
2214
M1~sic. E,tter the Daughter of Antiochus. Per. See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring, Graces her subjeCts, and her thoughts the king Of every virtue gives renown to men! Her face the book of praises, where is read Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence Sorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath Could never be her mild companion. You gods that made me man, and sway in love, That have inflamed desire in my breast 20 To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree, Or die in the adventure, be my helps, As I am son and servant to your will, To compass such a boundless happiness I A nt. Prince Pericles,Per. That would be son to great Antiochus. • Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fntit, but dangerous to be tO\lch'd ; For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
Act I Scene I Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view 30 Her countless glory, which desert must gain; And which, without desert, because thine eye • Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die. Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself, Drawn by report, adventurous by desire, Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale, That without covering, save yon field of stars, • Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars; And with dead cheeks advise thee to cksist For ~oing on death's net, whom none resist. 40 Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught My frail mortality to know itself, And by those fearful objec1s to prepare This body, like to .them, to what I must; For death remember'd should be like a mirror, Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error. I'll make my will then, and, as sick men do Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe, Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did; So I bequeath a happy peace to you 50 And all goud men, as every prince shou1l1 do; My riches to the earth from whence they came; But my unspotted fire of lore to yoa. [To the daugltter {~f A.lltiochus. Thus ready for the way oflife or dt:ath, I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus. A ut. Scorning advice, read the conclusion, then: Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, As these before thee thuu thyself shalt bleed. • Dtwg/z. Of all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous! Of all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness! 60 • Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, Nor ask au ,·ice of any other thought But faithfulness and courage. lIe reads tile riddle. I am no viper. yet I feed On mother's Uesh which did me breed. I sought a husband, in which labour 1 found that kindness in a father: He's father, son, and husband mild; I mother, wife, and yet his child. How they may be, and yet in two, 70 As YOll will live, resolve it you. Sharp physic is the last: but, 0 you powers That give heaven countless eyes to view men',; aCts, Why cloud they not their sight." perpetually, If this be true, which makes me pale to read it? Fair glass of light, I luved you, and could still, [Takes hold {if the ha.ml 0/ the Princess, Were not this glorious casket stored with ill: Bttt I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt; :For he's no man 011 whom perftc1ions wait That, knowing Sill within, will touch the gate. So You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings; Who, finger'd to n:ake man his lawful music, Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken: But being play'd upon before your time, Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime• • Good sooth, I care not for you. A ut. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, For that's an article within our law, As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expired: Either expound now, or receive your sentence. ~
PERICLES
33 fe/lOll' heap. i.e. body.
38 Cupid. Attendant on Yenus, goddeis of lo,'\! .
69 say'd. i.e. as..'layed, tried. 61
anUIllI'.
Cndertake. lists. Combat.
86 Goad SfHJtit. Truly.
2215
PERICLES
Act I Scene I
101 Copp'd. Humped. 110 gloze. Use fair words.
Per. Great king, Few love to hear the sins they love to ad; 'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He's more secure to keep it shut than shown: For vice repeated is like the wandering wind, Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself; And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts roo .Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't. Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their will; And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill! I t is enough you know; and it is fit, \Vhat being more known grows worse, to smother it. All love the womb that their first being bred, Then give my tongue iike leave to love my head. Aut. [Aside] Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning: .nut I will gloze with him.-Young prince of Tyre, Though by the tenour of our striCt ediCt, III Your exposition misinterpreting, We might proceed to cancel of your days; Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise: Forty days longer we do respite you: If by which time our secret be undone, This mercy shows we '11 joy in such a son: And un til then your entertain shall be As doth befit our honour and your worth. 120 [ExetJ1tt all but Pericles. Per.
Pericles: 'And both like serpents are, who though they feed On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.' Emblem 'Latet anguis in herba' from Claude Paradin's De't';ses heroiques, 1557
How courtesy would seem to cover sin, 'Vhen what is done is like an hypocrite, The which is good in nothing but in sight! If it be true that I interpret false, Then were it certain you were not so bad As with foul incest to abuse your soul; \Vhere now you're both a father and a son, By your untimely claspings with your child, Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father; And she an eater of her mother's flesh, 130 By the defiling of her parent's bed; And both like serpents are, who though they feed On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men Blush not in aCtions blacker than the night, Will shun no ~ourse to keep them from the light. One sin, I know, another doth provoke; :\1 urder 's as near to lust as flame to smoke: Poisoll and treason are the hands of sin, Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame: 140 Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear, By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. (Exit.
Re-enter ANTIOcHus. AlIt.
He hath found the meaning, for which we mean To have his head. He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin In such a loathed manner; And therefore instantly this prince must die;
2216
Act I Scene II
PERICLES
For by his fall my honour must keep high. Who attends us there?
Ettter THALIARD. Tltat. Doth your highness call? 150 Ant. Thaliard, You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes Her private aCtions to your secrecy; And for your faithfulness we will advance you. Thaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold: We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him: It fits thee not to ask the reason why, Because we bid it. Say, is it done? That. My lord, 'Tis done. A11t. Enough. 160 Enter {~ Messenger . • Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste . ..lless. My lord, prince Pericles is fled. [Exit. A 1tt. As thou Wilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot From a well-experienced archer hits the mark His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return Unless thou say' Prince Pericles is dead.' Thal. My lord, If I can get him within my pistol's length, I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness. Allt. Thaliard, adieu! [Exit That.] Till Pericles be dead, 170 l\iy heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit. SCEXE
II
Tyre.
A room ill the palace.
Antiochus: '\\'e hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him', Engraving from Le premier Livre d'Amadis de Gaule, 1555
161 telling. While you tell.
12 mis-dread. Fear. 20 boots. Profits.
25 ostellt. Display.
Ellter PERICLES. Per. [To Lords 'without] Let none disturb us.-\Vhy should this change of thoughts, The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, Be my so used a guest as not an hour, In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night, The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet? Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them, And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch, Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here: Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits, Nor yet the other's distance comfort me, 10 Then it is thus: the passions of the mind, .That have their first conception by mis-dread, Have after-nourishment and life by care; And what was first but fear what might be done, Grows elder now and cares it be not done. And so with me: the great Antiochus, 'Gainst whom I am too little to contend, Since he's so great can make his will his aEt, Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence; .Nor boots it me to say I honour him, 20 If he suspeCt I may dishonour him: And what may make him blush in being known, He'll stop the course by which it might be known; \Vith hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land, .And with the ostent of war will look so huge, Amazement shall drive courage from the state; Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist, And subjeCts punish'd that ne'er thought offence: Which care of them, not pity of myself,
2217
PERICLES
Act I Scene II Who am no more but as the tops of trees, Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them, 30 Makes both my body pine and soul to languish, And punish that before that he w(]uld punish.
Enta' HELICA:-;t;S, 'with other Lords. First LOt'd. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!
Sec. Lord.
Pericles: " . , as the tops of trees, \Vhich fence the roots they grow by and defend them', \Voodcut from Cesare Ripa's /conoiagia, 1603 44 SignWT Sooth, i.e. Sir Sweet Tongue.
2218
And keep your mind, till you return to us, Peaceful and comfortable! fIe!. Peace, peace, and give experience tongue. They do abuse the king that flatter him: For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, 40 To which that blast gives heat and stro!,}ger glowing; \Vhereas reproof, obedient and in order, Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err . • \Vhen Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace, He flatters you, makes war upon your life. Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please; I cannot be much lower than my knees. Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook \Vhat shipping and what lading's in our haven, And then return to us. [Exeunt Lords.] Helicanus, thou 50 Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks? He!. An angry brow, dread lord. Per. If there be such a dart in princes' frowns, How durst thy tongue move anger to our face? He!. How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence They have their nourishment? Per. Thou know'st I have power To take thy life from thee. Hel. [Kneelillg] I have ground the axe myself' Do you b~t strike the blow. Per. Rise, prithee, rise. Sit down: thou art no flatterer: 60 I thank thee for it; and heaven forbid That kings should let their ears hear their faults hidl Fit counsellor and servant for a prince, \Vho by thy wisdom makest a prince thy servant, \Vhat wouldst thou have me do? He!. To bear with patience Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself. Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus, That minister'st a potion unto me That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself. A ttend me, then: I went to Antioch, 70 \Vhere as thou know'st, against the face of death, I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty, From whence an issue I might propagate, t Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjeCts., Her face was to mine eye beyond aU wonder; The rest-hark in thine ear-as black as incest: Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou know'st this, 'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss. Which fear so grew in me, I 'hither fled, 80 Under the covering of a careful night, Who seem'd my good proteCtor; and, being here,
Act I Scene III Bethought me what was past, what mightsucceed. I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears Decrease not, but grow faster than the years: And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth, That I should open to the listening air How many worthy princes' bloods were shed, To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope, 89 To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms, And make pretence of wrong that I have done him; When ali, for mine, if I may call offence, 1\:lust feel war's blow, who spares not innocence: \Vhich love to all, of which thyself art one, Who now reprovest me for it,H el. Alas, sir! Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks, Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts How 1 might stop this tempest ere it came; And finding little comfort to relieve them, I thought it princely charity to grieve them. 100 Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak, Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear, And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant, \Vho either by public war or private treason Will take away your life. Thereiore, my lord, go travel for a while, Till that his rage and anger be forgot, Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life. Your rule direCt to any; jf to me, 109 Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be. Per. I do not doubt thy faith; But should he wrong my liberties in my absence? Hel. We '11 mingle our bloods together in the earth, From whence we had our being and our birth. Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to • Tarsus Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee; And by whose letters I'll dispose myself. The care I had and have of subjects' good On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it. 1I9 I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath: Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both : .But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe, That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince, Thou show'dst a subje8:'s shine, I a true prince. [Exeunt. SCENE
III.
Tyre.
PERICLES
Helicanus: 'Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.' Engraving of The Destinies from Vincenzo Cartari's Imagini de i dei de gii antichi, 1587
115 Tarsus. A city of southern Turkey, famous for its prosperity and beauty in ancient times.
122 orbs. Orbits.
An altte-chamber ill the palace.
Enter THALIARD. Thai. So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow. and had good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he had some reason for't; for if a king bid a man be a villain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. Hush! here come the lords of Tyre. Enter
and ESCANES, with other Lords of Tyre. H el. You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre, Il HELICANUS
2219
PERICLES
Act I Scene IV Further to question me of your king's departure: His seaI'd cummission, left in lru,;,t with me, Doth speak sufficiently he's gone to traveL Thai. [Aside] How! the king gone! IIel. If further yet you will be satisfied, 'Yhy, as it were unlicensed of your loves, He would depart, I'll gi,-e some light unto you. Being at Antioch-TJlal. LA side] '''hat from Antioch? He/. Royal Antiochus-on what cause I know not20 Took som.e displeasure at him; at least he judged so: And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd, To show his sorrow, he'ld correct himself; So put!' himself unto the ::ihipman's toil, \Vith whom each minute threatens life or death. Thai. [Aside] Well, I perceive I shall not be hang'd now, although I would; But since he's gone, t the king's seas must please: He 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea. I'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre ! H el. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome. 31 Thai. From him I come \Vith message unto princely Pericles; But since my landing I have understood Your lord has betook himself to unknown travels, My message must return from whence it came. Hd. \Ye ha"e no reason to desire it, Commended to our master, not to us: Yet, erc you shall depart, this we desire, As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre. 40 [Exeunt. SCENE
IV.
Ellter
CLEON,
Tarsus. A room ill tlte GOl/enzor's hOllse. tke g-overnor 0/ Tarsus, witk ami others.
DIONYZA,
Cleo My Dionyza, shall we rest us here, And by relating tales of others' griefs, See if 'twill teach us to forget our own? Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it; For who digs hills because they do aspire Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher. () my distressed lord, even such our griefs are: Here they're but felt, and seen with mischief's eyes, But like to groves, beiug topp'd, they higher rise. Cleo 0 Dionyza, IC \Vho wanteth food, and will not say he wants it, Or can conceal his hunger till he famish? Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep, Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder; That, if heaven slumber while their creatures want, They may awake their helps to comfort them. 1'11 then discourse our woes, felt several years, And wanting breath to speak help me with tears. Dt'o. 1'11 do my best, sir. 20 Cleo This Tarsus, o'er which I have the government, A city on whom plenty held full hand, For riches strew'd herself even in the streets'
2220
Act I Scene IV Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds, And strangers ne'er beheld but wonder'd at; .Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd, Like one another's glass to trim them by: Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight, And not so much to feet! on as delight; All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great, 30 The name of help grew odious to repeat. Dio. 0, 'tis too true. Cleo But see what heaven can do! By this our change, These mouths, who but of late, earth, sea, and air, Were all too little to content and please, Although they gave their creatures in abundance, As houses are defiled for want of use, They are now starved for want of exercise: Those palates who, not yet two summers younger, IVlust rutve inventions to delight the taste, 40 Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it: Those mothers who, to nousle up their babe~, Thought nought too curious, are ready now To eat those little darlings whom they loved. So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life: Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping: Here many sink, yet those which see them fall Have scarce strength left to give them buria1. 50 I s not this true? Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. Cleo 0, let those cities that of plenty's cup And her prosperities so largely taste, 'With their superfluous riots, hear these tears! The misery of Tarsus may be theirs.
PERICLES
26 jetted. Swaggering.
Cleon: 'All poverty was scom'd ... ' Engraving of the goddess of Plenty from a Roman medal in G. du Choul's Disc(}UTS de fa Religion des Anciens Romains, 1567
61 portly sail. Stately fleet.
E 1der a. Lord. Lord. Where's the lord governor? Cleo Here. Spe.ak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st 111 haste, For comfort is too far for us to expeCt. Lord. Vle have descried, upon our neighbouring shore, 60 .A portly sail of ships make hitherward. Cleo I thought as much. One sorrow never comes but brings au heir, That may succeed as his inheritor; And so in ours: some neighbouring nation, Taking ad\'antage of our misery, Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power, To beat us down, the which are down already; Aud make a conquest of unhappy me, Whereas no glory's got to overcome. 70 L01-d. That's the least fear; for, by the semblance Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not as foes. Cleo Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat: Who makes the fairest show means most deceit. But bring they what they will and what they can, What need we fear? The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there. Go tell their general we attend him here, To know for what he comes, and whence he comes, And what he craves. 81 LtJrd. I go, my lord. [E:rit.
2221
PERICLES
Act II Prologue
83 consist. Decide.
•
C Ie. 'Velcome is peace, if he on peace consist: If wars, we are unable to resist.
E,zter PERICLES witk Attendants. Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships and number of our men Be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes. 'Ve have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, And seen the desolation of your streets: N or come we to add sorrow to your tears, 90 But t;; and bie Nicander Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman. 70 [Exit Lychorida.
2234
Act III Scene II Sec. Sat'l. Sir, we have a chest beneath the • hatches, caulked and bitumed ready. Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this? Sec. Sail. 'Ve are near Tarsus. Per. Thither, gentle mariner. Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it? Sec. Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease. Per. 0, make for Tarsus! There will I visit Cleon, for the babe Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I 'II leave it 80 At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner: I'll bring the body presently. [Exeunt. SCENE
II.
PERICLES
72 caulked. With the seams sealed. bitumed. Tarred . 16 principals. Main beams.
Eplleiuts. A ,'oom in Cerimon's IlOteSt!.
E1tter CERIMON, ·with. a Servallt, and some Persons WllO Ila'lle been sltijnvn'cked.
Cer.
Philemon, ho!
Ellter PHILEMON. Phil. Doth my lord call? Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men: 'T has been a turbulent and stormy night. Servo I have been in many; but such a night as this, Till now, I ne'er endured. Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return; There's nothing can be minister'd to nature That can recover him. [To Pltile11loll] Give this to the 'pothecary, And tell me how it works. [E.xeUltt all but Cerimo1l.
Cerimon: "Tis known, I ever Have studied phY'sic ... ' Engraving of an apothecary preparing distillations, 16th century
Ellter two Gentlemen. Fi1'st Gent. Good morrow. IO Sec. Gellt. Good morrow to your lordship. Cer. Gentlemen, 'Vhy do you stir so early? First Gmt. Sir, Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, Shook as the earth did quake; .The very principals did seem to rend, And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear Made me to quit the house. Sec. Gellt. That is the cause we trouble you so early; 'Tis not our husbandry. Cer. 0, you say well. 20 First Gent. Eut I much marvel that your lordship, having Rich tire about you, ~hould at these early hours Shake off the golden slumber of repose. 'Tis most strange, Nature should be so conversant with pain, Being thereto not compell'd. Cer. I hold it ever, Virtue and cWl.ning were endowments greater Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs May the two latter darken and expend; But immortality attends the former, 30 Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever Have studied physic, through which secret art, By turning o'er authorities, I hc1.ve, Together with my practice, made familiar To me and to my aid til.e blest infusions
2235
PERICLES'
Act III Scene II
63 corse. Corpse. 67 Apolw. God of medicine. perfect me. Let me comprehend fully. characters. 'Vriting.
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones; And I can speak of the disturbances That nature works, and of her cures; which doth gi\'eme A more content in course of true delight Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, 40 Or tie my treasure up in silken bags, To please the fool and death. St:c. Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth Your charity, and hundreds call themselves Your creatures, who by you have tx.-en restored: And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but c\'en Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon Such strong renown as time shall ne'er decay.
Euter two or three Servants witlt a cltest.
Apolio, Greek god of the arts, prophecy, medicine and light. Engra"ing from a Roman medal in G. du Choul's DiscOIITS de la Religion des Anciens Romains, 1567
85 lien. Laid.
2236
First Ser1J. So; lift there. Crr. What is that? First Servo Sir, even now Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest: 50 'Tis of some wreck. Cer. Set 't down, let's look upon't. Sec. Ge1d. 'Tis like a coffin, sir. Cer. Whate'er it be, 'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight: If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold, t'Tisagood constraint offortune it belches upon us. Sec. Gellt. 'Tis so, my lord. Cer. How clo"e 'tis caulk'd and bitumed! Did the sea cast it up? First Servo I never saw so huge a billow, sir, As toss'd it upon shore. Cer. \Vrench it open; Soft! it ;;mells most sweetly in my sense. 60 Sec. Gellt. A delicate odour. Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. .0 you most potent gods! what's here? a corse 1 First Gent. Most strange! Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and ell treasured . \Vith full bag>; of spices! A passport too! •.\.pollo, perfect me in the characters! [ReadsfroVl a scroll. , Here I give to understand, If e'er this coffin drive a-land, I. King Pericles, have lost 70 This queen, worth all our mundane cost. \\Thofinds her, give her burying; She \\'as the daughter of a king; Besides this treasure for a fee, The gods requite his charity!' If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonighr. Sec. l;ellt. Most likely, sir. Cer. Nay, certainly to-night; For look how fresh she looks! They \Vere too rough 79 That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within: Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet. [Exit a Serua:zt. Death may usurp on nature many hours, And yet the fire of life kindle again The 0' erpress' d spirits. t I heard of an Egyptian .That had nine hours lien dead, \Vho wa.s by good appliance recovered.
Act III Scene III
Re-enter a Servant, with. boxes, napkt"ns, a1ldfire
PERICLES
90 block. Unmoving thing.
Well said, well said; the fire and cloths. The rough and woeful music that we have, Cause it to sound, beseech you. • The viol once more: how thou stirr'st, thou ~~!
~
The music there !-I pray you, give her air. Gentlemen, This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth Breathes out of her: she hath not been entranced Above five hours: see how she gins to blow Into life's flower again! First Ge1lt. The heavens, Through you, increase our wonder and set up Your fame for ever. Cer. She is alive; behold, Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels \Vhich Pericles hath lost, 100 Begin to part their fringes of bright gold; The diamonds of a most praised water Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live, And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature, Rare as you seem to be. [SIte moves. Thai. 0 dear Diana, \Vhere am I? \\There's my lord? \Vhat world is this? Sec. Gmt. Is not this strange? First Geld. Most rare. Cer. Hush, my gentle neighbours! Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her. Get linen: now this matter must be look'd to, For her relapse is mortaL Come, come; lID • And j£sculapius guide us! [Exezmt, carryillg her away. ScENE
Thaisa: 'Where am I? '\~here's my lord? \Vhat world is this?' Thaisa (Stephanie Bidmead) with Cerimon (Anthony Xicholls) Stratford-upon-Avon. 1958
111 lEsculapius. God of healing.
III. Tarsus. A room i't Cleo11's house.
E'lter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, alld LYCHORIDA 'willi ~IARINA i,l her arms. Per. ::'I10st honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you! C Ie. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally, Yet glance full wanderingly on us. Dion. 0 your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither, To have bless'd mine eyes with her! Per. \Ve cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar :10 As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as 'tis. 1\1y gentle babe Marina, whom, For she was born at sea, I have named so, here I charge your charity withal, leaving her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner'd as she is born. Cleo Fear not, my lord, but think Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, For which the people's prayers still fall upon you, Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Sho~ld therein make me vile, the common body,
Aesculapius. Engraying from Vincenzo Cartari's Imagim delli dei de gl'antichi, 1764
2237
PERICLES
Act III Scene IV Act IV Prologue
Cleon: 'We'll ... give you up to the mask'd );eptune'. Engraving of Neptune, god of the sea, from Andrea Alciati's Emblemata, 1577
By you relieved, would force me to my duty: But if to that my nature need a spur, The gods revenge it upon me and mine, To the end of generation! Per. I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me to't, \Vithout your vows. Till she be married,madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour, all U nscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain, Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave. 30 Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child. Diml. I have one myself, \Vho shall not be more dear to my resped Than YOUr!;, my lord. Per. Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cleo \Ve'l! bring your grace e'en to the edge 0' the shore, Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and The gentlest winds of heaven. Per. I will embrace Your offer. Come, dearest madam. 0, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace 40 You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord. [Exetmt. SCENE
6 my eaning time. When I was giving birth. 10 'vestal. Virginal. 14 date. Lifespan.
4 't'otaress. Priestess.
12 wrack. Ruin.
IV. Ejlums. A room ill Cerimon's nouse.
Enter CERIl\lO:-< mId THAISA. Cer. Mar;lam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your coffer: which are now At your command. Know you the charatter? 1'kai. It is my lord's. That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, .Even on my eaning time; but whether there Deliver'd, by the holy gods, I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles, ~Iy wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again, .A vestal livery will I take me to, IO And never more have joy. Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak, Diana's temple is not distant far, .\Vhere you may abide till your date expire. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine Shall there attend you. Tnai. My recompense is thanks, that's all; Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. (Exeunt. ACT IV.
•
• 2238
E1tter GOWER. Cow. Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre, Welcomed and settled to his own desire. His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, Unto Diana there a votaress . N ow to Marina bend your mind, Whom our fast-growing scene must find At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd In music, letters; who hath gain'd Of education all the grace, Which makes her both the heart and place 10 Of general wonder. But, alack, That monster ellvy,_ oft the wrack Of earned praise, Marina's life Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
Act IV Scene I
•
•
•
•
And in this kind hath our Clean One daughter, and a wench full grown, Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid Hi.ght Philoten: and it is said For certain in our story, she Would ever with Marina be: 20 Be't when she weaved the sleided silk With fingers long, small, white as milk; Or when she would with sharp needle wound The cambric, which she made more sound By hurting it; or when to the lute She sung, and made the night-bird mute, That still records with moan; or when She would with rich and constant pen Vail to her mistress Dian; still This Philoten contends in skill 30 With absolute Marina: so \Vith the dove of Paphos might the crow Vie feathers white. Marilla gets All praises, which are paid as debts, And not as given. This so darks In Philoten all graceful marks, That Clean's wife, with envy rare, A present murderer does prepare For good Matina, that her daughter Might stand peerless by this slaughter. 40 The sooner her vile thoug'hts to stead, Lychorida, our nurse, is dead: And cursed Dionyza hath The pregnant instrument of wrath Prest for this blow. The unborn event I do commend to your content: Only I carry winged time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme; Which never could I so convey, Unless your thoughts went on my way. 50 Dionyza does appear, With Leonine, a murderer. [Exit. SCENE
I.
18 Hight. Is called.
21 sidded. Sleaved. Fine silk threads made by separating thicker ones.
24 cambric. Linen.
29 Vail. Pay homage. Dian. Diana. 32 Paphos. Birthplace of Venus. 45 Prest. Prepared. 14 Tellus. The Earth. weed. Dres.s.
Tarsus. A 11 open place llear tIll! sea-sltore.
E,zter DIONYZA 1l1td LEONINE. Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't: 'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. Thou canst 110t do a thing in tlte world so soon, To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, Which is but cold, inflaming love i' thy bosom, Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be A soldier to thy purpose. Leon. I will do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. 9 Diott. The fitter, then, the gods should have her. tHere she comes weeping for her only mistress' death. Thou art resolved? Leon. I am resolved. •
PERICLES
Tellus, the earth goddess. Engraving from Vincenzo Cartari's Imagini delli dei de gl'antichi, 1764
Enter MARINA. witlt a oa.1·ket of.!lo'wers. Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed, To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues, The purple violets, and marigolds, Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave, While summer-days do last. Ay me ! poor maid, Born in a tempest, when my mother dIed, This world to me is like a lasting storm, 20 Whirring me from my friends.
2239
PERICLES
25
!treOUL
Act IV Scene I
Appearance.
63 dropping. Dripping. 77 lao Indeed.
2240
DiOIl. How now, Marina! why do you keep alone? How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not Consume ,our blood with 1'>orrowing: you have eA nurse 0 me. Lord, how your favour's changed With this unprofitable woe ! Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it. Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there, And it pierces and sharpens the !>tomach. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her. JO .J.Uar. No, I pray you; I'll not. bereave you of your ~rvant. Dioll. Come, come; I love the king your father, and yourself, \Yith more than foreign heart. We every day Expect him here: when he shall come and find Our paragon to all reports thus blasted, He will repent the breadth of his great voyage; Blame ooth my lord and me, that we ha\'e taken No care to your be!:.t courses. Go, I pray you, 'Valk, and be cheerful once again; reserve 40 That excellent complexion, which did steal The eyes of young and old. Care not for me; I can go home alone. i1far. \'lelI, I will go; But yet I have no desire to it. Dlo1t. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you. Walk half an hour, Leonine. at the least: Remember what 1 have said. Leoll. I warrant you, madam. DiOIl. 1'11 leave you, my sweet lady, for a while: Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood: \Yhat! I must have a care of you. 111ar. My thanks, sweet madam. 50 (Exit Dionyza. Is this wind westerly that blows? LeoJl. South-west. Mar. \Vhen I was born, the wind was north. Leoll. 'Yas't so? lJ£ar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, But cried' Good seamen!' to the sailors, galling His kingly hands, haling ropes; And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea That almost burst the deck. Lt·olt. \Yhen was this? 111ar. \Vhen I was born : N ever was waves nor wind more violent; 60 And from the ladder-tackle washes off A canvas-climber. 'Hal' says one, 'wilt out?' eAnd with a dropping industry they skip From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and The master calls, and trebles their confusion. Leoll" Come, say your prayers. 11£ar. What mean you? Leon. If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it: pray; but be not tedious, For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn 70 To do my work with haste. jlIar. Why will you kill me! LeO/t. To satisfy my lady. ilfar. Why would she have me kill'd? N ow, as I can remember, by my troth, I never did her hurt in all my life: I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn eTo any living creature: believe me, la, I never kill'd a l'ilouse, nor hurt a fly: I trod upon a worm against my will, But I wept for it. How have I otTended, 80
Act IV Scene II
PERICLES
Wherein my death might yield her any profit, Or my life Imply her any danger? Leon. My commission Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.. Mar. You will not do't for all the world, I hope. You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately, When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now: Your lady seeks my life; come you between, go And save poor me. the weaker. Leon. I am sworn, And will dispatch. [He seizes Iter.
E,tter Pirates. First Pirate. Hold, villain! [Leonine runs away. Sec. Pirate. A prize! a prize! Third Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's have her aboard suddenly. [Exeunt Pirates witlt Marina. Re-enter LEONINE. Leon. These roguing thieves serve the great . pirate VaIdes; And they have seized Marina. Let her go : There's no hope she will return. I'll swear she's dead, And thrown into the sea. But I'll see further: 100 Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, Not carry her aboard. If she remain, Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain. [Exit.. SeEN)!; II.
Mytilene.
.A room
iTI
a brothel.
E'lter PANDAR, Bawd, and BouLT. Pando Boult! Boult. Sir? Pando Search the market narrowly; Mytilene is full of gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being too wenchless. Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures. We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do; and they with continual aCtion are even as good as rotten. 9 Pando Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used in every trade, we shall never pro!>per. Bawd. Thou sayest true : 'tis not our bringing up of poor bastards,-as, I think, I have brought up some elevenBoult. Ay, to eleven; and brought them down a&'ain. But shall I search the market? Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so 2I pitifully sodden. Pando Thou sayest true: they're too unwholesome, 0' conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that lay with the little baggage. • Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him, she made him roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market. [Exit. • Pando Three or four thousan
Church, Southwark
;I:
Ii:
, II" I, ,
I ' •
j \\ I 1\ JI
I
,!i
. 1
I
I,
,
\ I
\
2259
Cymbeline I609
CVMBELINE is a curious play, difficult for us to appreciate and interpret. For one thing it is experimental, in the direction of romance, where there were no satisfactory models, and is an amalgam of diverse elements. For another, its incongruities should be taken comically, as if in inverted commas - Cloten's decapitation and his head brought on as a stage-property, the sudden surprises and sensational improbabilities. When, at the end, Cymbeline's lost sons are presented to him and Imogen is recovered from presumed death, he says, 0, what am I? A mother to the birth of three? one cannot but think that Shakespeare was writing with his tongue in his cheek. And at several other points similarly. Of course there are serious elements too - lachimo's intrusion upon Imogen, which Shakespeare added for himself to the folk-tale lovewager theme, can hardly be regarded as comic. It is a reminiscence from The Rape of Lucrece - and the play is full of reminiscences. Something new was demanded for the public, for the two publics now, of Blackfriars as well as the Globe; so the old master is trying his hand out at a dual-purpose play. In performance one or other of these elements can be - indeed, must be - cut down; the masque-like theophany at the end, with the descent of Jupiter, would have been for Blackfriars with its more elaborate scenic devices. A modem French producer thought it 'sacrilege' to sacrifice a word of Shakespeare's, but this is absurd: he would not have minded cutting, the demands of the stage were all in all, and long plays like Cymbeline and Hamlet exemplify obvious alternatives. After the advent of Inigo Jones with his spectacular scenic creations the taste of the sophisticated public moved towards this sort of thing, and there carne a revival of old romantic plays, with their episodic, fairyland character.
The Play. These last plays have long and detailed stage-directions: Shakespeare was writing at horne in the country. The long closure of the theatres, from July 1608 to
2260
Introduction
December 1609, gaw him plenty of time, and C~\'mbelille is o,-er-Iong and full of reminders of his o,,-n work. The triple recognition at the end is closely similar to that of his recent Pericles. He had been re-reading Venus mid Adoll;s and The Rape of Lucrece. The comic dod, Cloten, had been dressed in Posthumus' clothes, and Imogen, taking his body for that of her husband, cries,
CYMBELINE
Imogen i1l the cm.:t!.1Vinetemth celltlllT ellgul'l:ing from a painfing by 1". Graham ( r84o-II)06)
o Posthumus, alas, \Yhere is thy head? ,,-here's that? Ay mel where's that? .-\,11 this is, surely, to be taken comically. \Vhen asked by the invading Romans for his name, she gives Richard du Champ. It has been suggested that this was for Richard Field, the Stratford printer of the two poems - aU the more likely now that Shakespeare had become part-o,,-ner of the theatre in Blackfriars, where Field's press (and his French wife) held out. :\Ianymore memories recur throughout this long-winded play. All his life Shakespeare was apt to think of Tarquin - he was a very sexy man himself, and the image must have given him a kick. \Ye ha,-e Cleopatra once more in glory on the Cydnus, and the story of Tereus and Philomela which sparked off Titus Alldrollicus. The 'Arabian bird' appears from AlltOllY alld Cleopatra, and 'the worms of the ::-\ile' (but why does he so
2261
CYMBELINE
Introduction often refer to snakes as 'worms'?) Yet another apostrophe to gold and the ill effects of its cult refers back to Timon. The charm of innocent country life in the mountains of vVales, lived by old Belarius and Cymbeline's unknown sons, as opposed to the falsity and treacheries of Court life, re-appears from As You Like It or even goes right back to Henry VI. Altogether, with leisure on hand at Stratford, he was looking. through his own past work. For the elements of his story he had those old stand-bys, Holinshed, The Mirror for }V/agistrates and the Faerie Queene. He hardly needed Boccaccio or anything else for the familiar folk-tale of a husband wagering everything on his wife's fidelity. (After his own variegated experiences in London he had come back to a faithful wife of his own at home.) A new element in the play is the character of the Doctor, who instructs the wicked Queen - another dissembling deceitful Tamora - in the use of drugs. His sonin-law could have instructed him about that. lachimo - the Italian adventurer who instigated the husband Posthumus to take the wager upon Imogen's fidelity and gets into her bedroom in a chest, to report everything is another, more light-hearted lago. Here we have a curious feature in the reflection on Italians: \Vhat false Italian, As poisonous-tongued as -handed, hath prevailed On thy too ready hearing? This accounts for Posthumus' onslaught on womankind: Is there no way for men to be, but ·women Must be half-workers? ... Could I find out The woman's part in me! For there's no motion That tends to vice in man but I affirm It is the woman's part. Be it lying, note it, The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers; Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers; Ambitions, covetings, changes of pride, disdain, ~ice longing, slanders, mutabilitywe cannot but recognise the experience portrayed in the Sonnets. Posthumus goes on, curiously: I'll write against them. This very year 1609 saw the publication of the Sonnets, and only a year or so after, Emilia Lanier's replication with its attack on men, inserted in prose, before her own long quasi-religious poem. (Certainly ambition had been a consuming passion with her, and all those other characteristics 'noted' were recognisable too.) We do not need to repeat the complexities, the windings, sudden turns and surprises, the improbabilities, which so offended Dr. Johnson. Once more, the dramatist did not mind improbabilities or incongruities, any more than the audience did, and he was out to give them what they wanted. The play has a double, or even triple, plot and all admit the experienced skill with which so many threads are drawn together at the end: As against the fairy-tale background from remote British history - Cymbeline (Cuno-
2262
Introduction
CYMBELINE
belinus), a Cloton as a supposed Duke of Cornwall, a world beyond the Severn, Wales and Milford Haven, as a port of disembarkation from Italy! - the characters are real and possess veracity. Cymbeline is a kind of silly Lear, easily taken in by a dissembling wife, real enough; though Posthumus is too credulous, there are such types as he and Iachimo; Imogen has always been found moving, so too the faithful Pisanio.
Style. The language in which the play is written can only be described as extraordinary. Shakespeare had always had a lordly way with words, a fondness for rare and grand, impressive words. Increasingly, he does what he likes with them: he will frequently use nouns as verbs, and sometimes a preposition, 'beneath', for example, as a noun. Instinctively he uses a visual word rather than an abstract one. Posthumus puts aside the thought of another wife: give me but this I have, And cere u~ my embracements from a next With bonds of death! The words 'cere up' come to mind for he sees the waxen shroud, and the idea of sealing is behind the thought of wax. He always had been double-minded: hence all the doubletalk and punning throughout his work, which Dr. Johnson considered his fatal Cleopatra. The habit grew upon him until he expresses himself, not only elliptically, but so obliquely as to be devious - it is often difficult to know what he means. The very first words of the play are: You do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers Still seem as does the King's. Only Shakespeare would use the word 'bloods' for moods, and the rest is obscure: it implies that the courtiers do not agree with the King's mood (in exiling Posthumus for marrying Imogen). In Cloten's comic duel, his sword missed its thrust. This is the way it is expressed: 'His steel was in debt. It went 0' th' backside the town', i.e. like a debtor, it took a back road. lachimo praises Imogen to her face, in contrast with others, thus:
It cannot be i' th' eye, for apes and monkeys, 'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way and Contemn with mows the other; nor i' th' judgment, For idiots, in this case of favour, would Be wisely definite. We know that he wrote rapidly; evidently his pen could not keep up with his thoughts. We know too that his manuscripts were illegible, and gave both transcribers and printers much trouble. Here is a thought he puts in concrete, visual terms, because he sees it: The love I bear him :Vlade me to fan you thus; but the gods made you, Unlike all others, chaffiess. 2263
CYMBELIXE
Introduction Iachimo simply means that he was testing Imogen, and she ,,·as faultless, but the image behind the word 'fan' is that of winnowing, and she is without chaff. ~ote, too, that the image is from country life. Even a quite simple thought is thus worded: Frame yourself To orderly solicits, and be friended \Yith aptness of the season: i.e. make your requests in order and at apt times. For 'give an account' Shakespeare will say 'words him'; for 'tell about', 'story him'. Or what about a passage like this, when Imogen is persuaded that Posthumus has been unfaithful to her away in Italy? To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her That now thou tirest on, how thy memory Will then be panged by me. 'Disedged' is Shakespeare's coinage, and it has a visual element in it, for it means dulling the edge of sexual desire. 'Tirest' is double-talk, for it suggests both preying on, like a bird of prey, and also tiring of her. 'Panged' is a verb coined from the noun 'pang'. The psychological subtlety behind it is that when she and her husband had been together when first married, Imogen had chastely moderated his pressing desires. But ",,,hat a writer! And how difficult for the modern reader! There is much to be said for modernising him. This is not to say that there are not passages of fine poetry, and others of the most effective simplicity: he can do both, as he chooses. \Ye are given two beautiful songs Fidele's, the name Imogen takes. is one of the most moying he eyer wrote, with its burden of farewell : Fear no more the heat 0' th' sun, ~or the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta'en thy wages ...
Age and Time. In this remote fairy-tale world there are few touches of the time. The story is put into the framework of a conflict between Rome and ancient Britain, over the payment of tribute. This gives the cue for a couple of patriotic statements like those of John of Gaunt and Faulconbridge earlier. (How much of the past is taken up into this reminiscent play!) Our countrynlen Are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage \Vorthy his frowning at. (Visual again.) Their discipline mingled with their courages, will make known To their appr6vers they are people such That mend upon the world. ~ow
2264
Introduction
CYMBELINE
This was true enough, after the long struggle with Spain for a place in the sun, and with the English colonisation of North America now going forward. Lesser evidences of the time occur in a whole scene devoted to playing bowls, a favourite game with Shakespeare (and rather upper-class then). The stupid Cloten goes on about being free to utter what oaths he likes - a reference to the recent Jacobean statute against Oaths, which made for further difficulties when it came to printing the plays. As for stage-apparel, we hear of 'cloak-bag, doublet, hat, hose' - so the clothes worn were Jacobean. So were the rushes on the floor, and the equipment, of Imogen's bedroom. Here we may note again Shakespeare's interest in the work of his neighbours in Southwark, the sculptors who made so many chimney-pieces for great houses as well as monuments: The chimney Is south the chamber, and the chimney piece Chaste Dian bathing. Never saw I figures So likely to report themselves. The cutter Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her, Motion and breath left out. In taking the bracelet off the sleeping Imogen, to confirm his false story to Posthumus, lachimo breathes:
o sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her. And be her sense but as a monument, Thus in a chapel lying. Cymbe1ine's son, Arviragus, in an exquisite passage strewing flowers on Fide1e's body, thinking her dead, says that the robin, bringing moss, shames Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie Without a monument. This, however, would not happen to him: the faithful family called upon one of the Southwark sculptors for the monument at Stratford.
The Text in the Folio offers no great problem, it is reasonably good, and is thought to have been from a scribe's transcript of Shakespeare's difficult hand.
2265
CYMBELINE. DRAMATIS PERSONlE. CVMBELINE, king of Britain. CLOTEN, son to the Queen by a former husband. POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, a gentleman, hus· band to Imogen. BELARWS,. a banished lord, disguised under the name of MQrgan. sons to Cymbeline, dis.guised GUIDERIliS, under the names of Polydore ARVIRAGUS, { and Cadwal, supposed sons to Morgan. PHILARIO, friend to Posthumus,} Itar IACHIMO, friend to Philario, lans. CAIUS LUCIUS, general of the Roman forces. PrsANIo, servant to Posthllmus. CORNELIUS, a physician. A Roman Captain.
Two British Captains. A }t'renchman, friend to Philario. Two Lords of Cymbeline's court. Two Gentlemen of the same. Two Gaolers. Queen, wife to Cvmbeline. IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen. HELEN, a lady attending on Imogen. Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer. a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other attendants. Apparitions. SCENE: Britain; Rome.
eA bullet beside a text line ,:lIdicates an annotation in the opposite column
ACT I. SCENE I. Britain. Tlte g-arde" of Cymbelil,e's
palace. Enter t'WO Gentlemen. First Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers Still seem as does the king. Sec. Gent. But what's the matter! First Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom. whom He purposed to his wife's sole son-a widow
Set design by J. Gower Parks, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1937 Opposite." Iachimo gazes upon the sleeping Imogen. Engra\-ing from a painting by Richard Westall (176518 3 6 )
2267
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene I
6 referr'd herself. Given herself in marriage.
24 Endows . .. he. Belongs to any other man but him.
25 extend. Praise. 37 fond of issue. Doting on his children. 49 feated. Reflected favourably.
2268
.That late he married-hath referr'd herself Unto a poor but worthy gentleman : she'swedded; Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd:all Is outward sorrow; though I think the king Be touch'd at very heart. Sec. Gent. None but the king? 10 First Gent. He that hath lost her too; so is the queen, That most desired the match; but not a courtier, Although they wear their faces to the bent Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowl at. Sec. Gent. And why 507 First Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess is a thing Too bad for bad report: and he that hath herI mean, that married her, alack, good man! And therefore banish'd-is a creature such As, to seek through the regions of the earth 20 For one his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think So fair an outward and such stuff within .Endows a man but he. Sec. Gent. You speak him far. • First Ge1ti. I do extend him, sir, within himself, Crush him together rather than unfold His measure duly. Sec. Gent. What's his name and birth? First Celtl. I cannot delve him to the root: his father Was called Sidlius, who did join his honour Against the Romans with Cassibelan, 30 But had his titles by Tenantius whom He served with glory and admired success, So gain'd the sur·addition Leonatus; And had, besides this gentleman in question. Two other sons, who in the wars 0' the time Died with their swords in hand; for which their father, .Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow That he guit being, and his gentle lady, Bi~ of this gentleman our theme, deceased As he was born. The king he takes the babe 40 To his protection, calls him P~;:humus Leonatus, Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber, Puts to him all the learnings that his time Could make him the receiver of; which he took. As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd. And in 's sprin~ became a harvest, lived in courtWhich rare it is to do--most praised, most loved, A sample to the youngest, to the more mature .A glass that feated them, and to the graver A child that guided dotards; to his mistress, So For whom he now is banish'd, her own price Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue: By her eledion may be truly read What kind of man he is. Sec. Gent. I honour him Even out of your report. But, pray you, tell me, Is she sole child to the king? First Gent. His only child. He had two sons: if this be worth your hearin~, Mark it: the eldest of them at three years old. l' the swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery Were stoI'n. and to this hour no guess in knowledge 00 Which way they went.
Act I Scene I
Sec. Gent. How long is this ago? First Gent. Some twenty years. Sec. Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd, So slackly guarded, and the search so slow, That could not trace them! First Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the ne~ligencemay well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, Sll'. Sec. Gent. I do well believe you. Firat Gent. We must forbear: here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princess. [Ext'zmt.
CYMBELINE
78 leml'd unto. Accepted. 10'5 buy' my iniuries. Willingly puts himself in the wrong instead of me.
Enter tlu QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assured yeu shall not find me, daughter, 70 After the slander of most stepmothers, Evil-eyed unto you: you're my prisoner, but Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus, So soon as I can win the offended king, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good • You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience Your wisdom may inform you. Post. Please your highness, I will from hence to-day. Queen. You know the peril. 80 I 'IT fetch a tum about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affeCtions, though the king Hath charged you should not speak together. rExit.
Imo. - 0 Dissembling courtesy! How- fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband, I something fear my father's wrath : but nothingAlways reserved my holy, duty-what His rage can do on me: you must be gone; And I shall here abide the hourly shot Of angry eyes, not comforted to live, go But that there is this jewel in the world That I may see again. Post. My queen! my mistress! o lady, weep no more, lest I give cause To be suspeCted of more tenderness Than doth become a man. I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth : My residence in Rome at one Philario's, 'Who to my father was a friend, to me Known but by letter: thither write, my queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, Though ink be made of gall
Imogen: '::\ ay, stay a little ... ' Peggy Ashcroft as Imogen and Richard Johnson as Posthumus, Stratford-uponAvon, 1957
Re-e1Jter QUEEN. Queen. Be brief, I pray you: 101 If the king come, I shall incllr I know not How much of his displeasure. [Aside] Yet I'll move him To walk this way: I never do him wrong, .But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; Pays dear for my offences. [Exit. Post. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu! I mo. Nay, stay a little: Were you but riding forth to air yourself, lIO Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
2269
CYMBELINE Act I Scene I 116 sear up. Cauterize.
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart; But keep it till you woo another wife, When Imogen is dead. Post. How, how! another! You gentle gods, give me but this J have, .And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death I [Putting on tke riltg.] Remain, remain thou here While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles %20 I still win of you: for my sake wear this: I t is a manacle of love; 1'11 place it Upon this fairest prisoner. (Putti,tg a Unrcelet u~ lur arm. 1m". 0 the gods 1 When shall we see again!
Posthumus: 'for my sake wear this ... ' Engraving from a painting by William Hamilton (I75I-rSoI)
Enter CVXBELINE and Lords. Alack, the king! Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight! • If after this command thou fraught the court With thy unworthiness, thou diest: away! Thou 'rt" poison to my blood. Post. The gods prated you! And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone. [Exit. bn(). There cannot be a pinch in death %30 More sharp than this is. Cym. 0 disloyal thing, That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st A year's age on me. I mo. I beseech you, sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation: I am !>enseless Qf your wrath; a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears. Cym. Past grace! obedience? Into. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace. Cpn. That mightst have had the sole son of myqueen! 11no. 0 blest, that I might not ! I chose an eagle, • And did avoid a puttock. 140 Cym. Thou took'st a begpr; wouldst have made my throne A seat for baseness. Imo. No; I rather added A lustre to it. Cym. 0 thou vile one! bno. Sir, I t is your fault that I have loved Posthumus: You bred him as my playfellow, and he is A man worth any woman, overbuys me Almost the sum he pays. Cym. What, art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: heaven restore me) Would I were .A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Our neighbour shepherd's son! Cym. Thou foolish thing! ISO
, Z6 fraught. Burden.
140 puttock. Buzzard. , 49 neat-herd. Cattleman.
Post. Cym.
Re-enter QUEEN. They were again together: you have don~ Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up. Queen. Beseech your patience. Peace. Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign.
2270
Act I Scene II
CYMBELINE
Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice. CYIlt. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Die of this foUy! [Exeunt CymbelineandLords. Queen. Fie! you must give way.
Enter PISANIO. Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news? Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. Quem. Ha! 160 No harm, 1 trust, is done? Pis. • There might have been, But that my master rather play'd than fought And had no help of anger: they were parted By gentlemen at hand. Quem. 1 am very glad on't. bno. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part. To draw upon an exile! a brave sir! .1 would they were in Arrie both together; Myself by with a needle, that 1 might prick The goer-back. Why came you from your master? Pis. On his command: he would not suffer me To bring him to the haven; left these notes 171 Of what commands 1 should be subjeCt to, When 't pleased you to employ me. Queen. This hath been Your faithful servant: 1 dare lay mine honour He will remain so. Pis. 1 humbly thank your highness. Queen. Pray, walk awhile. 1mo. About.some half-hour hence, 1 pray you, speak with me: you shall at least Go see my lord aboard: for this time leave me. [Ex8U1,t. ScENE
II.
TIte same. A public place.
Enter CLOTEN and two Lords. First Lord. Sir, I would !dvise you to shift a shirt; the violence of aCtion hath made you reek as :;. sacrifice: where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent. Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him? Sec. Lord. [Aside] No, 'faith; not so much as his patience. 9 • First Lord. Hurt him! his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt. Sec. Lord. [Aside] His steel was in debt; it went 0' the backside the town. C to. The villain would not stand me. Sec. Lord. [Aside] No; but he fled forWard still, toward your face. First Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own: but he added to your having; gave you some ground. 20 Sec. Lord. [Aside] As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies! C to. I would they had not come between us. Sec. Lord. [Aside] So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground.
Costume design for the lady-in-waiting to the Queen by John:\' apier with Martyn Bainbridge and Sue Jenkinson, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1974
167 Afl·ie. Africa, i.e. the wilderness. 10 passable. Penetrable without damage.
2271
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene III
32-33 a good sign. A good outside.
C Zo. And that she should love this fellow and refuse me I Sec. Lord. [Antie] If it be a sin to make a true elecHon, she is damned. 30 First Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her • beauty and her brain go not together: she '" a good sign, but I have seen small refleCtion of her wit. Sec. Lord. [Antle] She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt done! Sec. Lord. [Aside] I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. C/o. You'll go with us? 40 First Lord. I'll attend your lordship. C/o. Nay, come, let's go together. Sec. Lord. Well, my lord. [Exeunt. SCENE
III. A room in Cym6elwsfo:Uace. Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO.
Imo.
Ellen Terry as Imogen. Drawing by Sir L. AlmaTadema, 1906 24 With .. . '!-'antage. At his earliest opportunity. 32 encounter . .. orisons. Join me in prayers.
2272
I would thou grew'st unto the shores 0' the haven, And question'dst every sail: if he should write, And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost, As offer'd mercy is. What was the last That he spake to thee? Pis. It was his queen, his queen! bno. Then waved his handkerchief? Pis. And kiss'd it, madam. Imo. Senseless linen! happier therein than I I And that was all? Pis. No, madam; for so long As he could make me with this eye or ear Distinguish him from others, he did keep 10 The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief, Still waving, as the fits and stirs of's mind Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on, How swift his ship. bno. Thou shoulcist have made him As little as a crow, or less, ere left To after-eye him. Pis. Madam, so I did. Into. I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but To look upon him, till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle, Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from 20 The smallness of a gnat to air, and then Have tum'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio, When shall we hear from him? Pis. Be assured, madam, • With his next vantage. Into. I did not take my leave of him, but had Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him How I would think on him at certain hours Such thoughts and such, or I could make him swear The shes of Italy should not betray Mine interest and his honour, or have charged him, '3 0 At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight• • To encounter me with orisons, for then I am in heaven for him; or ere I could Give him that parting kiss which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father And like the tyrannous breathing of the north Shakes all our buds from growing
Act I Scene IV Enter a Lady. Lady. The queen, madam, Desires your highness' company. Into. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd. I will attend the queen. Pis. Madam, I shall. [Examt.·40 ScENE
IV. Rome. Pkilario's Iwuse•
CYMBELINE
2 of a crescent note. Of rising reputation.
16 words him. Suggests.
25 How creeps acqua.intance? How can he claim your friend?
to
be
42 atone. Make peace between.
./l;nter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard. Iacle. Believe it, sir, I have seen hiI:Jl in Britain: .he was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of; but I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side and I to peruse him by items. Phi. You speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with that which makes him both without and within. 10 Frenclr.. I have seen him in France: we had very many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he. I ack. This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by .her value than his own, words him, I doubt not, a &reat deal from the matter. Frmch;. And then his banishment. Iach;. Ay, and the apProbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgement, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without less quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with .you? How creeps acquaintance? Phi His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life. Here comes the Briton: let him be so entertained amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality. 30
E"ter
POSTHUMUS.
I beseech you all, be better kno\...·n to this gentleman. whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine: how worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing. French;. Sir, we have known together in Orleans. Post. Since when I have been dehtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay and yet pay still. 40 French.. Sir you o'er-rate my poor kindness: • I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature. Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller; rather shunned to go even with what I heard than in my every adion to be guided by others' experiences: but upon my mended judgement-if I offend not to say it is mended-my quarrel was not altogether slight. .5 I Fre"c". 'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords, and by such two that would by all likelihood have confounded one the other, or have fallen both.
2273
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene IV
59-60 suffer the repoyt. i.e. be reported without hesitation.
Costume design for Iachimo by Rene Allio, Royal Shakespeare Co, 1962
65 constant-qualified. Totally accomplished. 118 moiety. Half.
2274
lack. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference? . French. Safely, I think: 'twas a contention in .public, which may, without contradiffion, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses; this gentleman' at that time vouching- and upon warrant ofbloodyaffinnation-his to be more fair, virtuous,wise, chaste, .constant-qualified and less attemptable than any the rarest of our ladies in France. laclt. That lady is not now living. or this gentleman's opinion by this worn out. Post. She holds her virtue still and I my mind. lack. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy. 11. Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend. lack. As fair and as good-a kind of hand-inhand comparison-had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many: but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady. Post. I praised her as I rated her: so do I my stone. lack. What do you esteem it at? Post. More than the world enjoys. lack. Either your unparagoned mistress is deac4 or she's outprized by a trifle. Post. You are. mistaken: the one may be sold, or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods. lack. Which the gods have given you? Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep. lack. You may wear her in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too: so your brace of unprizable estimations; the one is but frail and the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that way accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last. Post. Your Italy contains Done so accomplished a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress, if, in the holding or loss of that, you term her fraiL I do nothing doubt you have store of thieves; notwithstanding, I fear not my ring. PIt.i. Let us leave here, gentlemen. 109 Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy si~ior, I thank him, makes no stranger of me ; we are familiar at first. lack. With five times so much conversation, I should get ground of your fair mistress, make her go back, even to the yielding, had I admittance and opportunity to friend. Post. No, no. • lack. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring; which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something: but I make my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation: and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any lady in the world. Post. You are a great deal abused in too bold
Act I Scene V a persuasion; and I doubt not you sustain what you're worthy of by your attempt. lacle. What's that? Post. A repulse: though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more; a punishment too. 129 Phi. Gentlemen, enough of this: it came in too suddenly; let it die as it was born, and, I pray you, be better acquainted. I acle. Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on the approbation of what I have spoke! Post. What lady would you choose to assail? I ac1e. Yours; whom in constancy you think .stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring, that, commend me to the court where your lady is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and I will bring from thence that honour of hers which you imagine so reserved. Post. I will wage against your gold, gold to it: my ring I hold dear as my finger ; 'tis part ofit. I adz. You are afraid, and therein the wiser. If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting: but I see you .have some religion in you, that you fear. 149 p{)st. This is but a custom in your tongue; you hear a graver purpose, I hope. lack. I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo what's spoken, I swear. Post. Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till yom' return: let there be covenants drawn between's: my mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your unworthy thinking: I dare you to this match: here's my rmg. PM. I will have it no lay: 159 lach. By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond too : if I come off, and leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours: provided I have your commendation for my more free entertainment. Post. I embrace these conditions; let us have articles betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon her and give me direClly to understand you have prevailed, I am no further your enemy; she is not worth our debate: if she remain unseduced, you not making it appear otlherwise, for your ill opinion and the assault you have made to her chastity you shall answer me with your sword. I ach. Your hand; a covenaut: we will have these things set do'A'1l by lawful counsel, and straight away for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and starve: I will fetch my gold and have our two wagers recorded. 181 Post. Agreed. [Exeunt Posthumus and Iacmlno. French. Will this hold, think you? Phi. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray, let us follow 'em. (Exeunt. SCENE
V.
CYMBELINE
138 ducat. Continental coin.
Iachimo: 'If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting.' Donald Wolfit as Iachimo, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1937
149 religion. i.e. reservation.
Britain. - A r()()m in Cymbeline's
palace. Enter QUEEN, Ladies. and CORNELIUS. Q~en. 'Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers; 2275
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene V Make haste: who has the note of them?
First Lady. Queen. Dispatch.
Queen: 'Now, master doctor, have you brouaht those drugs?' Clare Harris as the Queen, Stratford-uponAvon, 1937
17 amplify my judgement. Extend my knowledge.
18 conclusions. Experiments. ZZ Allayments. Antidotes. act. Action.
2276
I, madam.
[Exeunt Ladies.
Now, master doCtor, have you brought those drugs? Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam: [Presenting a small box. But I beseech your grace, without offence,My conscience bids me ask-wherefore you have Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, Which are the movers of a languishing death; But though slow, deadly? Queen. I wonder, doCl:or, 10 Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been Thy pupil long ? Hast thou not learn'd me how To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so That qur gre.at king himself doth woo'me oft FormyconfeCtion:;? Havingthusfarproceeded,Unless thou think'at me devilish-is't not meet .That I did amplify my judgement in .Other conclusions? I will try the forces Of these thy compounds on such creatures as We count not worth the hanging, but none human, To try the vigour of them and apply 21 .Allayments to their act, and by them gather Their several virtues and effeCl:s. Cor. Your highness Shall from this practice but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effeCl:s will be Both noisome and infeCtious. Quee,,,. 0, content thee.
Enter PISANIO. [A side] Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him Will I first work: he's for his master, And enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio! Doctor, your service for this time is ended; 30 Take your own way. Cor. [Aside] I do suspeCl:you, madam; But you shall do no harm. Queen.. [To Pisa"io] Hark thee, a word. Cor. [AsUie] I do not like her. She doth think she has Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit, And will not trust one of her malice with A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has Will stupify and dull the sense awhile; Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs, Then afterward up higher: but there is No danger in what show of death it makes, 40 More than the locking-up the spirits a time, To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd With a most false effeCt; and I the truer, So to be false with her. Queen.. No further service, doCtor. Until I send for thee. Cor. I humbly take my leave. [Exit. Queen.. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think in time She will not quench and let instruCtions en tel Where folly now possesses? Do thou work: When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son, I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then So As great as is thy master, greater, for His fortunes all lie speechless and his name Is at last gasp: return he cannot, nor
Act I Scene VI Continue where he is: to shift his being Is to exchange one misery with another, And every day that comes comes to decay A day's work in him. What shalt thou exped:, To be depender on a thing that leans, \Vho cannot be new built, nor has no friends, 59 So much as but to prop him? (TIzeOueendrops tke Cox: Pisanio takes it up.] Thou takest up Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour: It is a thing I made, which hath the king Five times redeem'd from death: I do not know What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee, take it; I t is an earnest of a further good That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how The case stands with her; do't as from thyself. Think what a chance thou changest on, but think Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son, Who shall take notice of thee: 1'11 move the king To any shape of thy preferment such 1I As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly, That set thee on to this desert, am bound To load thy merit richly. Call my women: Think on my words. [Exit PiM"io. A sly and constant knave, Not to be shaked; the agent for his master And the remembrancer of her to hold The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her .Ofliegers for her sweet, and which she after, 80 Except she bend her humour, shall be assured To taste of too.
CYMBELINE
80 liegers. Followers.
11 Change you. Do you change expression. 15 out of di;or. Visible.
11 Arabian bit·d. i.e. legendary phoenix.
R~nter PISANIO
anti Ladies. So, so: well done, well done: The violets. cowslips, and the primroses, Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio; Think on my words. (Exeunt Queen and Ladles. Pis. And shall do: But when to my good lord l v.t~'Ve untrue, I'll choke myself: there's all I 11 do fot you. [Exit. SClWE VI.
Tlu sante. Anotker room z'n tk~ palace. Enter IMOGEN.
I mo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false; A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, That hath her husband banish'd;-O, that husband! My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated Vexations of it 1 Had I been thief-Stol'n, As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable Is the desire that's glorious: blest be those, How mean soc'er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO. Pis. Madam. a noble gentleman of Rome, 10 .Comes from my lord with letters. lack. Change you, madam? The worthy Leonatus is in safety And greets your highness dearly. [P~nts a letter. Imo. Thanks, good sir : You Ire kindly welcome. • lack. [Aside] All of her that is out of door most rich! If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, • She is alone the Arabian bird, and I
Costume design for Pisanio by John Napier with Martyn Bainbridge and Sue Jenkinson, Royal Shakespeare Co, I974
2277
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene VI
20 Parthian. Asian people, skilled archers, who shot behind them as they retreated.
Imogen: 'So far I read aloud .. .' Laura Addison as Imogen. Sadler's \Vells Theatre. London. 1847 36 /lumber'd. Pebbled.
38 admimtioll. Astonishment. 47
trott'.
I wonder.
51 raps. Transports. 66 Galliall. French.
2278
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend! Arm me, audacity, from head to foot! .Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight; 20 Rather, direCtly fly. Imo. [Reads]' He is one of the noblest note, to who:;e kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Refled upon him accordingly, as you value your trustLEoNATus.' So far I read aloud: But even the very middle of my heart Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully. You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I Have words to bid you, and shall find it so In all that I can do. I aen.. Thanks, fairest lady. What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones .Upon the number'd beach? and can we not Partition make with speCtacles so precious .'Twixt fair and foul? Imo. What makes your admiration? lack. I t cannot be i' the eye, for apes and monkeys 'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and Contemn with mows the other; nor i' the judgement,' 41 For idiots in this case of favour would Be wisely definite; nor i' the appetite: Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed Should make desire vomit emptiness, Not so allured to feed. • Imo. What is the matter, trow? lack. The cloyed will, That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub Both fiU'd and running, ravening first the lamb Longs after for the garbage. Into. What, dear sir, 50 • Th1:1s raps you? Are you well ? lack. Thanks, madam: well. [To Pisanio] Beseech you, sir, desire My man's abode where I did leave him: he Is strange and peevish. Pis. I was going, sir, To give him welcome. [Exit. I mo. Continues well my lord? His health, be.seech you? lack. Well, madam. I mo. Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. lack. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there So merry and so gamesome: he is caU'd 60 The Briton reveller. Imo. When he was here, He did incline to sadness, and oft-times N at knowing why. lack. I never saw him sad. There is a Frenchman his companion, one An eminent monsieur, that, jt seems, much love~ .A Gallian girl at home; he furnaces The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly BritonYour lord, I mean-laughs from's free lungs, cries' 0, Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows By history, report, or his own proof, 7P
Act I Scene VI What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose But must be; will his free hours languish for. Assured bondage l' lmo. Will my lord say so? lade. Ay, madam. with his eyes in flood with laughter: It is a recreation to be by And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, heavens know, Some men are much to blame. 1",0. Not he. I hope. lack. Not he: but yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be used more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much; .In you, which I account his beyond aU talents, 80 Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pity too. Imu. What d& you pity, sir? lack. Two creatures heartily. 11110. Am lone, sir? You look on me : what wreck discern you in me Deserves your pity? lack. Lamentable! What, To hide me from the radiant sun and solace .1' the dungeon by a snuff? 1",0. I pray you, sir, Deliver with more openness your answers To my demands. Why do you pity me? I aelt. That others do90 I was about to say-enjoy your--But It is an office of the gods to venge it, Not mine to speak on't. Imo. You do seem to know Something of me. or what concerns me: pray yooSince d~bting things go ill often hurts more Than to be sure they do; for certainties Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, The remedy then born-discover to me What both you spur and stop. I aeft. Had I this cheek 99 To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul To the oath ofloyalty; this objeCt, which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye. Fixing it only here; should I, damn'd then, Slaver with lips as common as the stairs That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands Made hard with hourly falsehood-falsehood, as With labour; then by-peeping in an eye Base and un lustrous as the smoky light That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit no That all the plagues of hell should at one time Encounter such revolt. Imo. My lord, I fear, Has forgot Britain. lack. And himself. Not I, Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce The beggary of his change; hut 'tis your graces .That ftom my mutest conlicience to my tongue Charms this report out. Imo. Let me hear no more. lack. 0 dearest soul! your cause doth strike my heart With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady .So fair, and fasten'd to an empery, 120 Would make the great'st king double,-to be partner'd • With tomboys hired with that self exhibition
CYMBELINE
80 beyond all talents. Priceless.
87 snuff. Candle stub.
116 mutest conscience. Most private thoughts. 120 empery. Empire.
122 tomboys. Lewd women. self exhibition. Same allowance.
Costume design for Imogen by J. Gower Parks, Stratfordupon-Avon, 1937
2279
CYMBELINE
Act I Scene VI
133 Diana. Goddess of chastity. 134 vaulting variable ramps. Leaping various whores.
137 runagate. Truant from.
Julia Arthur as Imogen, Lyceum Theatre, London, 1&96 151 mart. Market.
152 stew. Brothel.
1 63 affiance. Loyalty.
178 clwfJless. Faultless.
2280
Which your own coffers yield! with diseased ventures That play with all infirmities for gold Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff As well might poison poison! Be revenged; Or she that bore you was no queen, and you Recoil from your great stock. I mo. Revenged! How should I be revenged! If this be true,As I have such a heart that both mine ears :1)0 Must not in haste abuse-if it be true, How should I be revenged f I aek. Should he make me .Liy~} like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets, • Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps. In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge iL I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, .More noble than that runagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your affeCtion, Still dose as sure. I mo. What, ho, Pisanio! I aek. Let me my service tender on your lips. I mo. Away! I do condemn mine ears that have 141 So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable, Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not For such an end thou seek'st,-as base as strange. Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far From thy report as thou from honour, and Solicit'st here a lady that disdains Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio! The king my father shall be made acquainted Of thy assault: if he shall think it fit, :150 • A saucy stranger in his court to mart .As in a Romish stew and to expound His beastly mind to us, he hath a court He little cares for and a daughter who He not respeCts at all What; ho, Pisanio! I ack. 0 happy Leonatus! I may say : The credit that thy lady hath of thee Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfett goodness Her assured credit. Blessed live you long! A lady to the worthiest sir that ever 160 Country caU'd his! and you his mistress, only For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon. • I have !;poke this, to know if your affiance Were deeply rooted; and shall make your lord, That which he is, new o'er: and he is one The truest manner'd; such a holr witch That he enchants societies into him; Half all men's hearts are his. I mo. You make amends. I atk. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god : He hath a kind of honour sets him off, 170 More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Most mighty princess, that I. have adventured To try your taking of a false report; which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great judgement In the election of a sir so rare, .Which you know cannot err: the love I bear him Made me to fan you thus, but the gods marle you, .Unlike all others, chaffiess. Pray, your pardon. IntQ. All's well, sir: take my power i' the court for yours. Iack. My humble thanks. J had almost forgot To entreat your grace but in a small request, 181 And yet of moment too, for it concerns
Act 1I Scene I Ynur lnrd; myself and nther noble friends Are partners m the business. . 11110. Pray, what is't? lack. &>me dozen Romans of us and your lordThe best feather of our wing-have mingled sums To buy a present for the emperor; Which I, the faetor for the rest, have done In France: 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels Of rich and exquisite form; their values great; And I am something curious, being strange, 191 To have them in safe stowage: may it please you To take them in proteCtion? /1110. Willingly: And pawn mine honour for their safety: since My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them In my bedchamber. lack. They are in a trunk, Attended by my men: I will make bold To send them to you, only for this night; I must aboard to-morrow. 11110. 0, no, no. • / aclt.. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word .By lengthening my return. From Gallla 201 I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise To see your grace. /1110. I thank you for your pains: But not away to-morrow! lack. 0, I must, madam: Therefore I shall beseeclI you, if you please To greet your lord with writing. do't to-night: I have outstood my time; which is material To the tender of our present. 11110. I will write. Send your trunk to me: it shall safe be kept, 209 And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. [Exeunt.
I. Britain. Before
200 short. Break. Z01 Gallia. France.
Tom Mead as Iachimo in Henry Irving's production at the Lyceum Theatre, London, 1896 8 pate. Skull.
ACT II. SCENE
CYMBELINE
CJ'mkli,~e's palace.
Ellter CLOTEN ana two Lords. CltJ. Wa. Come l your hand; And, daughter, yours. Pot. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you; Have you a father? Flo. I have: but what of him? Pol. Knows he of this? Flo. He neither does nor shall. Pol. Methinks a father Is at the nuptial of his son a guest That best becomes the table. Pray you once more, Is not your father grown incapable Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid • \Vith age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear? 409 Know man from man? dispute his own estate? Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing But what he did being childish? Flo. No, good sir; He has his health and ampler strength indeed Than most have of his age. Pol. By my white beard, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong Something unfilial: reason my son Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason The father, all whose joy is nothing else But fair posterity, should hold some cowlSel In such a business. Flo. I yield all this; 420 But for some other reasons, my grave sir, Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint My father of this business. Pol. Let him k.now't. Flo. He shall not. Pol. Prithee, let him. Flo. No. he must not.
Act IV Scene IV Shep. Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve At knowing of thy choice. Flo. Come, come, he must not. Mark our contract. Pol. M.ark your divorce, young sir, [Discoveri1tg himself. Whom son I dare not call; thou art too base To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre's heir, 429 That thus affec1:'sta sheep-hook! Thouold traitor, I am sorry that br. hanging thee I can But shorten thy life one week. And than, fresh piece Of excellent witchcraft., who of force must know The royal fool thou copest with,Shep. 0, my heart! Pol. I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made .More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy, If I may ever know thou dost but sigh That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession ; Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, 44 0 .Far than Deucalion off: mark thou my words: Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time, Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,Worthy enou~h a herdsman; yea, him too, That makes h1mself, but for our honour therein, Unworthy thee,-if ever henceforth thou These rural latches to his entrance open, Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, I will devise a death as cruel for thee 450 As thou art tender to't. [E_nt. Per. Even here undone! r was not much afeard; for once or twice I was about to speak and tell him plainly, The selfsame sun that shines upon his court Hides not his visage from our cottage but Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone? I told you what would come of this: beseech you, Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,.Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther.. But milk my ewes and weep. 460 Cam. Why, how now, father! Speak ere thou diest. She/>. I cannot speak, nor think, Nor dare to know that which I know. 0 sir! You have undone a man of fourscore three, That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea, To die upon the bed my father died, To lie close by his honest bones: but now Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me .Where no priest shovel.. in dust. 0 cursed wretch, That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure 471 To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone! If I might die within this hour, 1 have lived To die when I desire. [Exit. Flo. Why look you so upon me? I am but sorry, not afeard; delay'd, But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am ; More straining on for plucking back, not following My leash unwillingly. Cant. Gracious my lord, You know your father's temper: at this time He wiII allow no speech, which I do guess
THE WINTER'S TALE
436 homely. Rustic.
441 Deucalion. Legendary Noah. 459 I'll . . . farther. i.e. I will not continue to be hostess
of this party. 470 Where .. . dust. i.e. in unhallowed ground.
23n
THE WINTER'S TALE
Act IV Scene IV
492 fane:y. Love.
Florizel: 'Hark, Perdita. I'll hear you by and by.' Emily Fowler as Perdita and Edward Compton as Florizel, Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London, 1878 524 curious. Anxious.
2378
You do not purpose to him; and as hardly Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear: 4S0 Then, till the fury of his highness settle, Come not before him. Flo. I not purpose it. I think, Camillo? Cam. Even he, my lord. Per. How often have I told you 'twould be thus! How often said, my dignity would last But till 'twere known! Flo. It cannot fail but by The violation of my faith; and then Let nature crush the sides 0' the earth together And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks : From my succession wipe me, father; I 490 Am heir to my affeCtion. Cam. Be advised. • Flo. I am, and b:y my fancy: if my reason Will thereto be obedient, I have reason; If not, my senses, better ple.ased with madnes~, Do bid it welcome. Cam. This is desperate, sir. Flo. So call it: but it does fulfil my vow; I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or 499 The close earth wombs or the profound seas hide In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you, As you have eyer been my father's honour'd friend, When he shall miss me,-as, in faith, I mean not To see him any more,-cast your good counsels Upon his passion: let myself and fortune Tug for the time to come. This you may know And so deliver, I am put to sea \Vith her whom here I cannot hold on shore; And most opportune to our need I have 5IO A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared For this design. What course I mean to hold Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor Concern me the reporting. Cam. 0 my lord! I would your spirit were easier for advice, Or stronger for your need. Flo. Hark, Perdita. [Drawing- her aside. I'll hear you by and by. Cam. He's irremoveable, Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if His going I could frame to serve my turn, 519 Save him from danger, do him love and honour, Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia And that unhappy king, my master, whom I so much thirst to see. Flo. Now, good Camilh~; • I am so fraught with curious business that I leave out ceremony. Cam. Sir, I think You have heard of my poor services, i' the love That I have borne your father? Flo. Very nobly Have you deserved: it is my father's music To speak your deeds, not little of his care 52 9 To have them recompensed as thought on. Cam. Well, my lord, If you may please to think I love the king And through him what is nearest to him, which is Your gracious self, embrace but my diredion:
Act IV Scene IV
THE WINTER'S TALE
If your more ponderous and settled projeCt May suffer alteration, on mine honour, 1'11 point you where you shall have such receiving As shall become your highness; where you may Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see, There's no disjunCtion to be made, but by- 539 As heavens forfend !--your ruin; marry her~ And, with my best endeavours in your absence, Your discontenting father strive to qualify And bring him up to liking. Flo. How, Camillo, May this, almost a mirade, be done? That I may call thee something more than man And after that trust to thee. Cam. Have you thought on A place whereto you'll go ? Flo. Not any yet: But as the unthought-on accident is guilty To what we wildly do, so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies 550 Of every wind that blows. Cam. Then list to me: This follows, if you will not change your purpose But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia, And there present yourself and your fair princess, For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes: She shall be habited as it becomes The partner of your bed. Methinks I see Leontes opening his free arms and weeping 558 His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness. As 'twere i' the father's person; kisses the hands Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him 'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one He chides to hell and bids the other grow Faster than thought or time. Flo. Worthy Camillo, What colour for my visitation shall I Hold up before him? Cam. Sent by the king your father To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir, The manner of your bearing towards him, with What you as from your father shall deliver, Things known betwixt us three, 1'11 write yo\' down: 570 The which shall point you forth at every sitting What you must say; that he shall not perceive But that you have your father's bosom there And speak his very heart. Flo. I am bound to you: There is some sap in this. Cam. A course more promising Than a wild dedication of yourselves To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain To miseries enough; no hope to help you, But as you shake off one to take another; Nothing so certain as your anchors, who 580 Do their best office, if they can but stay you Where you'll be loath to be: besides you know Prosperity'5 the very bond oflove. Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together AfRietion alters. Per. One of these is true: I think atRicHon may subdue the cheek, But not take in the mind. Cam. Yea, say you so? There shall not at your father's house these seven years Be born another such.
2379
THE WINTER'S TALE
Act IV Scene IV
591 She ... birth. i.e. she is lowly born.
&08 pomander. Ball of spices carried as protection against infection; often an orange stuck with cloves.
609 table-book. Pocket notebook. &18 petti/oes. Pigs' trotters.
621 Sl!nseless. Numb.
628 whoo-bub. Hubbub. 629 Choughs from the chaff. Crows from the huSks of corn.
Flo. My good Camillo. She is as forward of her breeding as 590 .tShe is i' the rear our birth. Cam. I cannot say 'tis pity She lacks instruttions, for she seems a mistress To most that teach. Per. Your pardon, sir; for this I '11 blush you thanks. Flo. My prettiest Perdita! But 0, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo, Preserver of my father, now of me, The medicine of our house, how shall we do? We are not fumish'd like Bohemia's son, Nor shall appear in Sicilia. Cam. My lord, Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes Do all lie there: it shall be so my care 601 To have you royally appointed as if The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir, That you may know you shall not want, one word. [They talk aside. Re-enter AUTOLYcus. Aut. Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman!· I have sold all my trumpery; not a coun.terfeit stone, not·a ribbon, glass, pomander, • brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, hom-ring, to keep my pack from fasting: they throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: by which means I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in love with the wenches' song, that he .would not stir his pettitoes till he had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the herd to me that all their other senses stuck in ears: you .might have pinched a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a purse; I could have filed keys off that hung in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this time of lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival purses; and had not the old man come in with a .whoo-bub against his daughter and the king's • son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army. 630 [Camillo, Florizel, mM Perdita comeforward. Cam. Nay, but my letters, by this means being there So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt. Flo. And those that you '11 procure from King; LeontesCam. Shall satisfy your father. Per. Happy be you! All that you speak shows fair. Cam. Who have we here! (Seeing Autolycus. We'll make an instrument of this, omit Nothing may give us aid. Aut. If they have overheard me now, why. hanging. 639 Cam. How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so? Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee. Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir. Cam. \Vhy, be so still; here's nobody will
2380
Act IV Scene IV steal that from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must make an exchange; therefore disease thee instantly,-thou must think there's a necessity in't,-and change garments with this gentleman: though the pennyworth on his side .be the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot. Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir. [Ani/e] I know ye well enough. Cam. Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half flayed already. Aut. Are you in earnest, sir? [Aside] I smell the trick on't. Flo. Dispatch, I prithee. Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with conscience take it. Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle. 660 [Florizel a1Zd Atdolycus excluutge garments. Fortunate mistress,-let my prophecy Come home to ye I-you must retire yourself Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat And pluck it o'er your brows, muffie your face, .Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken The truth of your own seemi~; that you may.For I do fear eyes over-to shIpboard Get undescried. Per. I see the play so lies That I must bear a part. Cam. No remedy. 669 Have you done there? Flo. Should I now meet my father, He would not call me son. Cam. Nay, you shall have no hat. [Giving- it to Perdita. Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend. Aut. Adieu, sir. Flo. 0 Perdita, what have we twain forgot! Pray you, a word. Cam. [Aside] What I do next, shall be to tell the king Of this escape and· whither they are bound; Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail To force him after: in whose company I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight I have a woman's longing. Flo. Fortune speed us! 680 Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side. Cam. The swifter speed the better. [Exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo. A ut. I understand the business, I hear it: to have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for the other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been without boot! What a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, stealing away from his father with • his clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not do't: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my profession.
THE WINTER'S TALE
Camillo:' change gannents with this gentleman.' Michael Williams as Autolycus., Royal Shakespeare Co, 197 6
650 boot. Profit. 665 disliken. Disguise. 667
O'l.!er.
Overlook us.
694 his clog. i.e. Perdita.
Re-enter Clown and Shepherd. Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain: every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man work. 70r
Z381
THE WINTER'S TALE
Act IV Scene IV
727 fardel. Bundle.
Shepherd: ' ... there is that in this fardel will make him scratch his beard.' Scene from Harley Gram'illeBarker's production, Savoy Theatre. London, 1912
733 exc.·ement. Growth of hair.
738 condition. Contents. 756 measure. Bearing.
759 toaze. Tease. 760 cap-a-pe. Head to foot.
2382
Clo. See, see; what a man you are now! There is no other way but to tell the king she's a changeling and none of your flesh and blood. Sltep. Nay, but hear me. C/o. Nay, but hear me. Shep. Go to, then. 708 C/o. She being none of your flesh and blOOd, your flesh and blood has not offended the king; and so your flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those things you found about her, those secret things, all but what she has with her: this being done, let the law go whistle: I warrant you. She.!. I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his son's pranks too; who, I may say. is no honest man, neither to his father nor to me, to go about to make me the kings brotherin-law. 720 C/o. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you could have been to him and then your blood had been the dearer by I know how much an ounce. Aut. [Aside] Very wisely, puppies! Sh.e!. Well, let us to the king: there is that .in this fardel will make him scratch his beard. Aut. [Aside] I know not what impediment this complaint may be to the flight of my master. C/o. Pray heartily he be at palace. 730 Aut. [Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance: let me .pocke~ up my pedlar's excrement. [Takes tiff h.isfalse beam.] How now, rustics! whither are you bound? Site!. To the palace, an it like your worship. Aut. Your affairs there, what, with whom, .the condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and any thing that is fitting to be known, discover. Clo. \Ve are but plain fellows, sir. Aut. A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie. C/o. Your worship had h'ke to have given us one, if you hafl not taken yourself with the manner. Site!. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? Aut. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? hath not my gait in it the .measure of the court? receives not thy nose court-odour from me? refleet I not on thy baseness court-contempt! Thinkest thou, for that I .insinuate, or ttoaze from thee thy business, I am • therefore no courtier? I am courtier cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on or pluck back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to open thy affair. She.!. My business, sir, is to the king. A ut. What advocate hast thou to him? Sltep. I know not, an't like you. C/o. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant: say you have none. Site.!. None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. no
Act IV Scene IV A tit. How blessed are we that are not simple men! Yet nature might have made me as these are, Therefore I will not disdain. C loa This cannot be but a great courtier. S/up. His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomeI v. Clo. He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical: a great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on's teeth. Aut. The fardel there? what's i'the fardel? Wherefore that box? 7 81 SIze;. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box, which none must know but the king; and which he shall know within this hour, if·r may come to the speech of him. Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour. SIlL). Why, sir? Aut. The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for, if thou beest capable of things serious. thou must know the king is full of grief. Sltep. So 'tis said, sir; about his SOil, that should have married a shepherd's danghter. Aut. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly: the CUI-seS he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will break the back of mall, the heart of monster. C 10. Think you so, sir? 798 Aut. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to him, though removed fifty times, shall all come under the hangman: which though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling rogue, 2. ram-tender, to offer to have hi~ daughter c~me into grace! Some say he shall be stoned; but that death is too soft for him, say I: draw our throne into a sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy. Clo. Has the old mall e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an't like you, sid 81:0 Aut. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then 'nointed over with honey, set 011 the head of a wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead; the~ recovered again with aqua-vita: or some other hot infusion; then, raw .as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold him with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be ~miled at, their offences being so capital? Tell me, for you seem to be honest plain men, what you have to the king: being something gently considered, I'll bring you where he is aboard, tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be in man besides the king to effect your suits, here is man shall do it. 828 Clo. He seems to be of great authority: close with him, give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember • stoned,' and • flayed alive.' Sltep. An't please you,sir, to undertake the business for us, here is that gold I have: I'll make it as much more and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.
THE WINTER'S TALE
816 prognostication. The almanac.
2383
THE WINTER'S TALE
Act V Scene I
Aut. After I have done what I promised? SIte}. Ay, sir. 840 Aut. Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business? Clo. In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out ofit. A llt. 0, that '5 the case of the shepherd's son: hang him, he'll be made an example. CZo. Comfort, good comfort ! We must to the king and show our strange sight.s: he· must know 'tis none of your daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this old man does when the business is performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be brought you. Aut. I will trust you. \Valk before toward the sea-side; go on the right hand: :;: will but look upon the hedge and follow you. Clo. \Ve are ble;;t in this man, as I may say, eyen blest. She). Let '5 before as he bids us: he was provided to do llS good. 860 [E xumt S ltepkerd and C lO'W1t. A ut. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not suffer me: she drops booties in mv mouth. J am courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means to do the prince my master good; which who knows hoW' that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to shore them again and that the complaint they have to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far officious; for I am proof against that title and. what shame else belongs to't. To him 'will I present them: there may be matter in it. [Exit. ACT V. Leontes: 'Whilst I remember Her and her virtues ... ' The English Edwardian actor Charles Fry as Leonte~.
SCENE
EliteI'
1.
A room ill
LEONTES' palace.
LEoNTEs, CLEOl'olEXES, DION, PAULINA,
a1ld Servants. Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make, Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down More penitence than done trespass: at the last, Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil; \Vith them forgive yourself. Leoti. Whilst I remember Her and her virtues, I cannot forget My blemishes in them, and so still think of The wrong I did myself; which was so much, That heirless it hath made my kingdom and 10 Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of. Paul. True, too true, my lord: If, one by one, you wedded all the world, Or from the all that are took something/ood, To make a perfetl: woman, she you kill' Would be unparallel'd. LeO/t. I think so. Kill'd! She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strikest me Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter Upon thy tongue as in my thought: now, good now, Say so but seldom. Cleo. Not at all, good lady: 20
2384
Act V Scene I
THE WINTER'S TALE
You might have spoken a thousand things that would Have done the time more benefit and graced Your kindness better. Paul. You are one of those Would have him wed again. Dion. If you would not so, You pity not the state, nor the remembrance Of hIS most sovereign name; consider little What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue, May drop upon his kingdom and devour Incertain lookers on. What were more holy Than to rejoice the former queen is well' 30 What holier than, for royalty's repair, For present comfort and for future good, To bless the bed of majesty again With a sweet fellow to' t? Paul. There is none worthy, RespeCting her that's gone. Besides, the gods Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes; For has not the divine Apollo said, Is't not the tenour of his oracie, That King Leontes shall not have an heir Till his lost child be found? which that it shall, . Is all as monstrous to our human reason 41 As my Antigonus to break his grave And come again to me; who, on my life, Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel My lord should to the heavens be contrary, Oppose against their wills. [To Leontes.] Care not for issue; The crown will find an heir: great Alexander Left his to the worthiest; so his successor Was like to be the best. Leon. Good Paulina, Who hast the memory of Hermione, 50 I know, in honour, 0, that ever I Had squared me to thy counsel! then, even now, 1 might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, Have taken treasure from her lipsPaul. And left them More rich for what they yielded. LeoJl. Thou speak'st truth. No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse, And better used, would make her sainted spirit Again possess her corpse, and on this stage, Where we're offenders now, appear soul-vex'd, t And begin, • Why to me?' Paul. Had she such power, 60 She had just cause. Leon. She had; and would incense me To murder her I married. Paul. I should so. Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'ld bid you mark Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't You chose her; then I'ld shriek, that even your ears Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd Should be 'Remember mine.' Leon. Stars, stars, And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife; I'll have no wife. Paulina. Paul. Will you swear Never to marry but by my free leave? 70 Leon. N ever, Paulina; so be blest my spirit! Paul Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
2385
THE WINTER'S TALE
Act V Scene I
90 out of circumstance. Without ceremony.
C l~o. You tempt him over-much. Paul. Unless another, As like Hermione as is her pidure, Affront his eye. Cleo. Good madam,Paul. I have done. Yet, if my lord will marry,-if you will, sir. No remedy, but you will,-give me the office To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young As was your former; but she shall be such As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy 80 To see her in your arms. Leon. My true Paulina, We shall not marry tm thou bid'st us. Paul. That Shall be when your first queen's again in breath; N ever till then.
Enter a Gentleman. Gent. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel, Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access To your high presence. Leon. What with him? he comes not Like to his father's greatness: his approach, .50 out of circumstance and sudden, tells us go 'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced By need and accident. 'What train ? Gent. But few, And those hut mean. LctJn. His princess, say you, with him Y Gent. Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think, That e'er the sun shone bright on. Paul. 0 Hermione, As every present time doth boast itself Above a better gone, so must thy grave Give way to what's seen now! Sir, you yourself Have said and writ so, but your writing now I s colder than that theme, {She had not been, 100 N or was not to be equall'd;'-thus your verse l. What, ho I slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak. Cal. [Witkin] There's wood enough within. Pros. Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: Come, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL like a 'Water-nymph. Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear. Ari. Mylord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! 320
Enter CALlBAN. Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd 'Vith raven's fcather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye And blister you all o'er! Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, .Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Shall, for that vast of Ilight that they may work, AU exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em. Cal. I must eat my dinner. 330 This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first. Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me 'Vater with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee And show'd thee all the qualities 0' the isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile; Cursed be I that did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjeCls that you have, 34X Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest 0' the island. Pros. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child. Cal. 0 ho, 0 ho! would't had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else 350 This isle with Cali bans. Pros. Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other: when thou did~t not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Prospero: 'For this, be sure, to- night thou shalt ha"e cramps .. .' xliranda, Prospero and Caliban. Engraving from a painting by H. Fu,;eli (1741-J825)
326 urchills. Hedgehogs.
2411
THE TEMPEST
Act I Scene II
364 rid. Destroy.
373 Setebas. Patagonian god, referred to
In
Robert
Eden's History of Tra'l:aile, 1577
379 whist. Silent.
380 featly. Nimbly. 381 burthen bear. Sing the melody. 407 ou:es. Owns.
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock, 361 Who hadst deserved more than a prison. Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't .Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language! Pros. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best, To answer other business. Shrug' 5t thou, malice? If thou neglec1'st or dost unwillingly \Vhat I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps., Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar 370 That beasts shall tremble at thy din. Cal. No, pray thee. [Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power, .It would cOlJtrol my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him. Pros. So, slave; hence! [Exit Caliban.
Re-enter ARIEL, i,zvisible, pl{Jybzg and singing; FERDrNAND flllowblg. ARIEL'S SOll£.
Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kiss'd • The wild waves whist, • Foot it featly here and there; 380 • And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Etertken [dispersedly]. Hark, hark I Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow. A rio Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
Fer.
Miranda: 'Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form.' Miranda and Pro spero approach Ferdinand. Engraving by H. Gravelot from a desi2fl by T. Hayman. From Hanmer's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1744
Where should this music be? it the air or the earth? It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon Some god 0' the island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the king my father'!; wreck, 390 This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. No, it begins again. ARIEL sit!gs. Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made: Those are pe.arls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change 400 J nto something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring hhl knell: Burtlut!. Ding-dong. A rio Hark! now I hear them,-Ding-dong, bell.
Fer.
The ditty does remember my drown'd father. This is no mortal business, nor no sonnd .That the earth owes. I hear it now above me. Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance And say what thou seest yond. lI.fir. Whatis't! a spirit! Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, 410 It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
2412
Act I Scene II
Pros. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd • With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mlghtst call him . A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows And strays about to find 'em. . Mir. I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pros. [Aside] It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee 420 Within two days for this. Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this island; And that you will some good instruCtion give How I may bear me here: my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, 0 you wonder 1 If you be maid or no? Mir. No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid. Fer. My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tk spoken. Pros. Howl the best 1 430 What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee 1 Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd. ivlir. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan And his brave son being twain. Pros. [Aside] The Duke of Milan And his more braver daughter could control th(.e, If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight 440 • They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this. [ To Fer.] A word, good sirI fear yo'u have done yourself some wrong: a word. ilfir. Whyspeaksmyfathersoungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first That e~er ~ sigh'd for: pity move my father To he mdmed my way! Fer. 0, if a virgin, .And your affeCtion not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pros. Soft, sir! one word more. [AsideJ They are both in either's powers; but this swift business 450 I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on't. Fer. No, as I am a man. Mir. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't. Pros. Follow me. Speak not you Cor him; he's a traitor. Come;
THE TEMPEST
415 canker. A malignant disease.
Ferdinand: 'To hear thee speak of Naples'. View of N apJes from the sea. Engraving from Charles Knight's Pictorial Edition of the Works of Shakspere, 1839-43
441 changed eyes. Exchanged glances. 448 gone forth. Pledged.
2413
THE TEMPEST
Act II Scene I
471 ward. Threatening stance.
Prospero: ' . . . corne from thy ward, For I can here thee with this stick.' Engra\'ing from Bellamy's edition of Shakespeare's works, 1791
_~isann
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together: 461 Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. .Fer. No; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power. [Draws, and is charmedfrom moving. Mir. 0 dear father~ Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful. Pros. What? I say, My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience 410 eIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward, For I can here disarm thee with this stick And make thy weapon drop. Jlfir. Beseech you, father. Pros. Hence I hang not on my garments. Mir. Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety. Pros. Silence! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an impostor! hush! Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, Raving seen but him and CaliOan : foolish wenchl To the most of men this is a Caliban 480 And they to him are angels. M£r. My affeCtions Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pros. Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again And have no vigour in them. F £Y. So they are; My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel. The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats, To whom I am subduod, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day 490 Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have 1 in such a prison. Pros. [Aside] I~works. [ToPer.] Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me. [To A ri.] Hark what thou else shalt do me. Mir. Be of comfort; My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted Which now came from him. Pros. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exaetly do All points of my command. Arl. To the syllable. 500 Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him. [E.reunt.
ACT II. ScENE
I. Another part of the island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO. GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others. C;on. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
2414
Act II Scene I So have we all, of joy; for our escape Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe Is common; every day some sailor's wife, The masters of some merchant and the merchant Havejust our theme of woe; but for the miracle, I mean our preservation, few in millions Can spe.ak like. us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort. A Ion. Prithee, pe.ace. S eb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. A nt. The visitor will not give him o'er bOo II Sell. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike. GON. Sir,S eb. One: tell. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainerSell. A dollar. Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed. 2'0 Sell. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord,Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! A Ion. I prithee, spare. Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,Sell. He will be talking. A nt. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow? Sell. The old cock. 30 A nt. The cockerel. S eb. Done. The wager! Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match! A dr. Though this island seem to be desect,Seb. Ha, ha, ha! SO'lou're paid. A dr. Uninhabitable an almost inaccessible,Seb. Yet,A dr. Vet,A nt. He could not miss 'to 40 A dr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance wa.'! a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered A dr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs and rotten ones. A "t. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. A nt. True; save means to live. 5'0 Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! A nt. The ground indeed is tawny. S eb. \Vith an eye of green in't. A nt. He misses not much. Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is,-which is indeed almost beyond credit,Sell. As many vouched rarities are. GOIt. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. A nt. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies!
THE TEMPEST
,. Costume design for Antonio, Duke of Milan, by Gower Parks, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938
I.
2415
THE TEMPEST
Act II Scene I
76 Dido. Legendary Dido, who fell in love with Aeneas.
S eb.
Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. 7'1 Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. A dr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. • COlt. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow! a pox 0' that! How came that widow in? widow Dido! Sell. What if he had said' widower lEneas' too? Good Lord, how you take it! A dr. ' Widow Dido' said you r you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. COlt. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. A dr. Carthage? Con. I assure you, Carthage. Sell. His word is more than the Jl'liraculous harp; he hath raised the waH and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple. 91 A nt. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth, more islands. COlt. Ay. Alzt. Why, in good time. COlt. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. A nt. And the rarest that e'er came there. • Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. '100 Ant. 0, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido. Con. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it! I mean, in a sort. A nt. That sort was well fished for. Con. When I wore it at your daughters marriage? A Ion. You cram these words into mine ears against The; stomfl,ch of my sense. Would I had never Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, My son. is lost and, in my rate, she too, Who is so far from Italy removed IlO I ne'er again shall see her. 0 thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee? Fran. Sir, he may live: r saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, '¥hose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt 121 He came alive to land. AI01t. No, no, he's gone. SeD. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African; Where she at least is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. A tun. Prithee, peace. COlt.
100 Bate. Except.
2416
Act II Scene I
Su.
You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise By all of us, and the fair soul herself Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at 130 Which end 0' the beam should bow. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have • Moe widows in them of this business' making Than we bring men to comfort them: The fault's your own. A/on. So is the dear'st 0' the loss. Go". My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. SeD. Very well. A nt. And most chirJrgeonly. qo Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather? Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'ld sow't with nettle-seed. SeD. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king on't, what would I do? SeD. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. Gon. 1'the commonwealth I would by contraries • Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contraCt, succession, • Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none: No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too, but innocent and pure; No sovereignty;SeD. Yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gon. All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, 1:60 Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, .Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people. SeD. No marrying 'mong his subjects? A lit. None, man; all idle: whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfeCl:ion govern, sir, To excel the golden age. SeD. God save his majesty! Alit. Long live Gonzalo! Gon. And,-do you mark me. sir? A Ion. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. 171: Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing. A nt. 'Twa... you we laughed at. Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you: so you may continue and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given! 1:80 • Seh. An it had not fallen fiat-long. Gott. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
THE TEMPEST
133 ",'-foe. :.vtore.
148 traffic. Trade. 152
BOlin!.
Limits of property. tilth. Cultivation of land.
163 foison. Plenty. 181 An. If. fiat-long. With the fiat of the blade.
Costume design for Gonzalo by Percy Anderson, 1904
2417
THE TEMPEST
Act II Scene I Enter ARIEL, invisihle.?laying solemn music. SeD. We would so, and then go a bat~fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; 1 will not adventure .my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go sleep. and hear us. %90 [All slee? exec?t A Ion. , SeD., and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so. Seh. Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it : I t seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. A nt. We two, my lord, Will guard your person while you take your rest, And watch your safety. A llm. Thank you. Wondrous heavy. [A lonso sleeps. Exit A riel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! A nt. I t is the quality 0' the climate. Seb. Why 200 Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself disposed to sleep. Ald. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian? 0, what mightY-No more:And yet methinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking? A Itt. Do you not hear me speak? Seb. I do; and surely I t is a sleepy language and thou speak'st 2U Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep. Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die, rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. A tt!. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do 220 Trebles thee (ler. Seh. Well, I am standing water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Seh. Do so: to ebb Hereditary sloth instruCts me. Ant. 0, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it, You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run Dy their own fear or sloth. Seh. Prithee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee, and a birth indeed 230 • Which throes thee much to yield. A lit. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, •
Priscilla Horton as Ariel, Covent Garden Theatre, 1838 Painting by Daniel Maclise (1806-1870)
185 bat-fowling. Bird-catching with a light. 188 discretion. Reputation. 231 throes. Costs. yield. Offer.
2418
Act II Scene I Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded,For he's a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade,-the king his son's alive, 'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd As he that sleeps here swims. Seb. I have no hope That he's undrown'd. Ant. 0, out of that 'no hope' What great hope have you! no hope that way is Another way so high a hope that even 241 Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd? Seb. He's gone. A nt. Then, tell me, Who's the next heir of Naplesf Seb. Claribel. Aut. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were postThe man i' the moon's too slow-till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she that-from whom? We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again, 251 And by that destiny to perform an ad Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge. Seb. What stuffis this! how say you? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, • How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were death That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse 261 Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. 0, that you bore The mind that I do! what a sleep were this For your advancement! Do you understand me '1 Seb. Methinks I do. A nt. And how does your content .Tender your own good fortune? Seb. I remember 270 You did supplant your brother Prospero. A~
T~:
THE TEMPEST
210 Tender. Regard. 273 feater. More gracefully. 276 kibe. Sore heel. 279 candied. Frozen.
Costume design for Antonio by Percy Anderson,
1t prepare to meet with Caliban. Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it, but I feard Lest I might anger thee. Pros. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets? 170 Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour that they smote the air F or breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor; At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears, Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through .TOQth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns, 180 Which euter'd their frail shins: at last I left them • l' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O' erstunk their feet. Pros. This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still : The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither, • For stale to catch these thieves. Ari. I go, I go. [Exit. Pros. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; 190 And as With age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Even to roaring.
~
.•
Ariel: 'I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking .. .' Ariel (Brian Bedford) and Prospero (John Gielgud), Stratford-upon-A"'on, 1957
180
gO!S.
Gorse.
182 filthy-mantled. Scum covered. 187 stale. Decoys.
Re-enter ARIEL, loatkn with g-lUtering apparel, &c. Come, hang them on this line. PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TltINCULO, all wet.
Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell. Ste. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with us. Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation. 200 Ste. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you,Trin. Thou wert hut a lost monster. Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to Shall hoodwink this mischance; therefore speak softly. All's hush'd as midnight yet. Trite. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,Stc. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss. 210
Opposite: Prospero with Ariel. Drawing by J. M. Wright (1777-1866)
2435
THE TENIPES T
Act IV Scene I
Stephano: '1 will fetch off my bottle. though I be o'er ears for my labour'. Drawing of Trinculo. Stephano and Caliban by Robert Smirke (1752-r845)
239 line and le'l:el. According to rule. 244 pass of pate. Thrust of wit.
246 lime. Bird lime. 262 pard. Leopard. cat
0'
mOll1ltain. Panther.
Trin. That's more to m~ than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster. Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labour. Cal. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See'st thou here, This is the mouth 0' the cell: no noise, and enter. Do that good mist:hief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-ticker. Su. Give me"iliy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts. 221 Trin. 0 king Stephano! 0 peer 1 0 worthy Stephano! look what a wardrobe here is for thee I Cal. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash. Trin. 0, ho, monster 1 we know what belongs to a frippery. 0 king Stephano ! Su. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, 1'11 have that gown. Trin. Thy grace shall have it. Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you mean 230 To dote thus on such luggage? Let's alone And do the murder first: if he awake, From toe to crown he'l1 fill our skins with pinches, Make us strange stuff. Ste. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not this my Jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin. • Trin. Do, do: we steal by line and level, an't like your grace. 240 St£. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't: wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. 'Steal by line and level' • is an excellent pass of pate; there's another garment for't. • Trin. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest. Cal. I will have none on't: we shall lose our time, And aU be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villanous low. ~50 Ste. Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this away where my hogshead of wine is, or r'l1 turn you out of my kingdom: go to, carry this. Trin. And this. Su. Ay, and this. A noise of hunters heard. En'kr divers SjJirits, in shape of dogs alld hounds, and hunt them about, PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them ON.
Pros. Hey, Mountain, hey! A rio Silver! there it goes, Silver! Pros. Fury, Fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark! hark! (Cal,Su.,andTrin. are driven out. Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews With aged cramps, ...nd more pinch-spotted make them .Than yard or cat 0' mountain. A n. Hark, they roar! Pros. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies : Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little Follow, and do me service. [Exmnt.
2436
Act V Scene I
10 tt·eathe1·-fends. Protects from the weather.
ACT V. SCENE
I. Before
PROSPERO'S
THE TEMPEST
cell.
Enter PROSPERO in IUs magic robes, and ARIEL. Pros. . Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? A r. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease. Pros.· I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and's followers? A rio Confined together In the same fashion as you gave in charge, Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, .In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell; They cannot budge till your release. The king, . His brother and yours, abide all three distraCted And the remainder mourning over them, Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord, Gonzalo;' His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em That if you now beheld them, your affeCtions Would become tender. Pros. Dost thou think so, spirit? A n.. Mine would, sir, were I human. Pros.' And mine shall. 20 Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their affliCtions., and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer aCtion is I n virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel: 30 My charms I 'U break, their senses I 'U restore, And they shall be themselves. A rio I'll fetch them, sir. [Exit. Pros. Ye elves of hiUs, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printIess foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, 40 Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory • Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic ,50 I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
47 spun. Roots.
Prospero (Tom Fleming) and Ariel (Ian Holm), Royal Shakespeare Co. 1963
2437
THE TKvIPEST
Act V Scene I And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'n drown my book. [Solemn music.
A charmed circle. Engra"ing from a q.th century manuscript
63 sociable. Sympathetic.
64 Fallfellowly drops. Weep like yours. 85 disease me. i.e. remove my robe.
Re-ettier ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN alld ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO: they all enter tlu ,;irc/e wkicl: PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO observing, speaks: A solemn air and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains, N ow useless, boil'd within thy skulll There stand, For you are speU-stopp'd. Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, .Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, • Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace, And as the mornmg steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. 0 good Gonzalo, r My true preserver, and a loyal sir . To him thou follow'st! I will pay thy graces 70 Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the aCt. Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, ExpeU'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian. Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee, Ul1natural though thou art. Their understanding Begins to swell, and the approaching tide So Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now1ies foul and muddy. Not one of them . That yet looks on me, or would know me: Ariel, Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell: • I will disease me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit; Thou shalt ere long be free.
i,
SillgS and lulps to attire him. \Vhere the bee sucks, there suck I : In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. go On the bat's back I do fly . After summer merrily. Menily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. ARIEL
Pros.
Ariel helps to attire Prospero. Engraving by T. Stothard from E. Harding's Plays of Shakespeare, 179 8- r8oo
2438
Why, that's my dainty Ariel I I shall miss thee; But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so. To the king's ship, invisible as thou art: There shalt thou find the mariners asleep Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain Being awake, enforce them to this place, IOO And presently, I prithee. A ri. I drink the air before me, and return Or ere your pulse twice beat. [E xit. GOll. All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country ! Pros. Behold, s:r king, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospera:
Act V Scene I For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; And to thee and thy company I bid ItO A hearty welcome. A Ion. Whether thou be'st he or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me: this must crave. An if this be at all, a most strange story_ Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero Be living and be here? Pros. First, noble friend, Y20 Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measured or confined. Gon. Whether this be Or be not, 1'11 not swear. Pros. You do yet taste Some subtilties 0' the isle, that will not let you Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends aU! [Aslae to Sen. and Alit.] But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you And justify you traitors: at this time I will tell no tales. Sen. [AsUie] The devil speaks in him. Pros. No. For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know, Thou must restore. A Ion. I f thou be'st Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lostHow sharp the point of this remembrance is ! My dear son Ferdinand. Pros. I am woe for't, sir. Alon. Irreparable is the loss, and patience Y40 Says it is past her cure. Pros. I rather think You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace For the like loss I have her sovereign aid And rest myself content. A lolt. You the like loss! Pros. As great to me as late; and, supportable To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter. A lotZ. A daughter? o heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter? Pros. In this last tempest I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire That they devour their reason and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have Been j ustled from your senses, know for certain That I am Prospera and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan. who most strangely y60
THE TEMPEST
Costume design for Prospero by Loudon Sainthill, Stratford-upon.Avon. 1952
2439
THE TE:.\lPEST
Act V Scene I
".
_..
•..
,,'
";;1!f" '. Ferdinand and :.\Iiranda playing chess, Drawing by Francis \Vheatley (17+9-1801)
167 abroad. Apart from me.
2440
Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed, To be the lord on't. No more yet of this; For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast nor Befitting this first meeting. Weicome, sir; This cell's my court: here have I few attendants .And subjecb. none abroad: pray you, look in. My dukedom since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing; At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye 170 As much as me my dukedom.
Here Prospero disco'lJers FERDINAND and MIRANDA jlayi.ttg at chess. iI1ir. Sweet lord, you play me false. Fer. No, my dear'st love, I would not for the world. .ilfir. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, And I would call it fair play. A Ion. If this prove A vision of the Island, one dear son Shall I twice lose. SeD. A most high miracle! Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause. [Kneels. A lme. N ow all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about! 180 Arise, and say how thou camest here. ,ifir. 0, wonder! H ow many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! 0 brave new world, That has such people in 't ! Pros. 'Tis new to thee. AlOll. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours: Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us, And brought us thus together? Fer, Sir, she is mortal; Bllt by immortal Providence she '5 mine: I chose her when I could not ask my father 190 For his advice, nor thought I had one. She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Received a second life; and second father This lady makes him to me. A Ion. I am hers: But, 0, how oddly will it sound that I Must ask my child forgiveness! Pros. There, sir, stop: Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that's gone. Gon. I have inly wept, 200 Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, And on this couple drop a blessed crown! For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither. A 1011. I say, Amen, Gonzalo ! Gmt. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue . Should become kings of Naples? 0, rejoice Beyond a common joy, and set it down With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis
Act V Scene I
THE TEMPEST
And Ferdin.md, her brother, found a wife 210 Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom In a poor isle and all of us ourselves When no man was his own. A Ion. [To Fer. a1td Mir.] Give me your hands: Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart That doth not wish you joy! Con. Be it so! Amen I
R e-eltter ARIEL, witlt. tke Master alld Boatswain amazedl" following. 0, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us: I prophesied, if a gallows were on land, This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy, That swear'stgrace o'erboard, not an oath on shore? Hast thou no mouth by land? ~~hat is the news? Boats. The best news is, that we have safely 221 found Our king and company; the next, our ship-Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split.Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when We first put out to sea. Ari. [Aside UJ Pros.] Sir, all this service Have I done since I went. Pros. [Aside to Ari.] My tricksy spirit! A Ion. These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither? Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I tId strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And-how we know llot-all clapp'd under hatches; Where hut even now with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway, at liberty; Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good and gallant ship. our master Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you, Even in a dream, were we divided from them And were brought moping hither. Ari. [Aside to Pros.] Was't well done? 240 Pros. [Aside to Anq Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free. AI01~ This is a.'i strange a maze as e'er men
Costume design for Stephano and Trinculo by ]. Gower Parks, Stratford-upon-Avon, 1938 2.24 yare. Ready.
246 beating on. Trying to explain.
248 single. One by one.
trod;
And there is in this business more than nature \Vas ever conduct of: some oracle M lIst rectify our knowledge. Pros. Sir, my liege, .Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure • Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you, Which to you ~hall seem probable, of every These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful And think of each thing well. [AsUie to Ari.] Come hither, spirit: 251 Set Caliban and his companions free; Untie the spell. [Exit Ariel.] How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not.
Re-enter ARIEL, drivitlg in CALITIAN, STEPHANO and TRINCULO, in tluir stolc1l ajparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
2441
THE TEMPEST
Act V Scene I
280 gilded. i.e. flushed.
Prospero: 'He is as disproportion'd in his manners ... ' Prospero (John Gielgud) and Caliban (Alec Clunes), Stratford-upan-Avon, 1957
2442
Tritz. If these be true spie3 which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight. 260 Cal. 0 Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me. Seb. Ha, ha! . What things are these, my lord Antonio? \Vill money buy 'em? A nt. Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. Pros. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. This mis-shapenknave, His mother was a witch, and one so strong That could control the moen, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power. 27I These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devilFor he's a bastard one-had plotted with them To take my life. Two of these felloWs you Must know and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine. Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death. Alon. IsnotthisStephano, my drunken butler? Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine? A Ion. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they .Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em? 280 How camest thou in this pickle? Trin. I have been iIi such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano! Ste. 0, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp. Pros. You 'ld be king 0' the isle, sirrah! su. I should have been a sore one then. A Ion. This is a strange thing as e'er Ilook'd on. [Pointing to Caliban. Pros. He is as disproportion'd in his manners As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell; 291 Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. Cal Ay, that I will; and 1'11 be wise hereafter And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god And worship this dull fool I Pros. Go to; away! A Ion. Hence. and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather. 300 [Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin. Pros. Sir, I invite your highness and your train 300 To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night; which, part of it, 1'11 waste \Vith such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away; the story of my life And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle: and in the morn 1'11 bring you to your ship and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where 310 Every third thought shall be my grave. A Ion. I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely. Pros. I'll deliver ail; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales
Epilogue
THE TEMPEST
And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to A ri.) My Ariel, chick. That is thy charge: then to the elements Be free, and fare thou weIll Please you, draw near. [Exeunt.
EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.
Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own, Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confined by you, Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got And pa:don'd the dereiver, dwell In thIS bare island by y"tur speU: But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my projeCt fails, Which was to please. N ow I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, AJ1.d my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
%D
20
Michael Redgrave as Prospero, Stratford-upon-Avon, 195 1
2443
FURTHER READING
Further Reading The following bibli~raphy has been selected from an enormous litentture on the subject, .1I1d i~ intended as a guide for the general reader.
EDITIONS Re.::omm"ndcd editions of Sllakespeare in onc ,-olum.: are: The Complete \Yorks edited by P.:ter .-\Iexander, 1951: the Ri\'erside Shakespeare edited by G, Blakemore E,-ans: and the Complete \Vorks edited by Charles J. Sisson, 19.5+ The most useful editions of the plays in scpnrate "olurnes arc the :'\ew Ard.:n Shakespeare (general editors. Harold F. Brooks and Harold Jenkins). which e",'er textual problems and. in elude commentary on the text; the :'\ew Penguin Shakespeare (general editor T. J. B. Spencer); and the Pelican Shakespeare (general editor c\lfr"d Harbage). The :\ew Cambridge Shakespeare edited by .\rthur Quiller-Couch and John Dm'er \Yilson is stimulating for its introductions and. (not alwuys reliable) suggestions. The most demiled textual commentary ineluding stage history up to its date of publication (1888) is in the :'\ew '-ariorum Shakespeare edited by Horace H. Furness. (Paperback edition by Dm'er Publications, :'\ ew York.)
GENERAL REFERENCE Abbott, E. A A Sllokespt'a1"1' Grammar, 18iO Bartlett. John A .Ye'1t' alltl COII/plete ConCflfdallct'.. to. Shakespeare, 1962 Bullough, Geoffrey Sarmti",· alld Drall/atic Sources of Shakelpean', 1957-73 Greg, \Y. \Y. The Editorial Problem ill Shakespt'(ll'e, 19+2 Greg, \~r. \l\'. Th~ Shake"pem'e Firsl Folia, '955 Hinman, Charlton The PI'illtillK lind Proof-Rt'Odillg of tIl,' Fint Folio of Shakespeare, Ig(i3 Kokcritz, Hclge Slk'kespeou's PI'OIIIIIICi(!tioll. 1953 Muir, Kenneth ShakespeOl'e's SOl/rces, 11 Brinkworth, E. R. C. Shakespeare aud rhe Bmcoy Cmtl'/ of StratjOl'd, 1972 Chamhers. E. K. Shakespeare: A SlIr'i'e-", H)25 ChamOcrs, E. K. SOllnes for a Biop,/'ap/tyof Shakespeare, 19+6 Chambers, E. K. William Shakespeare. A Study of Facts 01/£1 Problems, 2 '·(Jls. 1930 Eccles, :\lark Shakespeare ill r-Va/"ivickshir~, 19(" Fripp, E. 1. Shakespeare, J/all {Ilia Artist, 2 "ok H./38 Fripp, E. 1. Shakespeare Srl/die.f, Biograpllical {/Ild f.iterary. 1930
Fripp, E. 1. Sfwkl'sprau's HUl/lIl' 111'(1/' 8lraljord, 19Z9 Joseph. llarrietJolrl/ Hall, .,,1(111 find PIr.nicial/, (1)64 Rowse. A L. Shakespeare th .. J/fIIl, 1973 Howse, A. L. Slwkes./>f'orc's SoutlWII/Plol/, Pfltrol1 of V;I;lf;l1;a, 1lI'\'CY V'"od, 3 ,·ols. 193+ :\Iaurit:r, Daphne du Gold"" Lads . •oJ Study of Antlrol/,\' BacolI, Fraucis and their Friends, '975 :\Iiddleton, Thomas Works edited by .-\. H. Bullen. lill{S -86 JlirfOf for jlogistmtes edited hy Lily B. Carnphell, 1938 :\:lshe, Thomas Works edited by R. B. ~IcKerrow and F. P. \"ilsen, It, Claude 146 Glendower, Owen 841,1150, 1182 Gloucester, Humphrey, Duke of, 787,826,829 Glrn, Isabella 695 Godfrey, Derek 89, 137, 851, 947,951,1579,1584,2282 Golding, Arthur 43, 197,200, 232 Goring, :\-1arius 746 Gower, John 2206, 2207,2207 2259 Graham, Morland 1655 Graham, T. 2261 . Grian, Glyn 591 Granville-Barker, Harley 177,238,275,1671,2350,
2382
Gravelot, Hubert 33, 113, 123,204,263,303,440,478,
539, 649, 666, 745, 1868, 2304,2402,2412
Green, Dorothy 2121, 2362 Greene, Robert 10, 10, 14, 19,31,119,173,175,185, 232,752,755,756,818,821, 888,957, 1349, 1551,2332 Gregg, W.W. 1953,2007 Gregory \'II, Pope 1204 Gregory, Eliot 130 Grey, Charles 600 Grieve, Thanas 2403 Grieve, Thomas 1904 Grimm, Samuel H. 490, 1217 Guernier, L. du 189 Guinness, Alec 650 GwiUiam, Jack 851,2105 Gyseghem, Anare van 1254 Hackaert, Johannes 934 Hacker, Arthur 1287 Hackett, J.H. 1225 Hafner, Ingrid 1584 Hakluyt, Richard 29, 175, 21-1-, 1808,2209,2396 Hall, Edward, 752, 75/, 953 Hall, Elizabeth 16, 17, 1547, 2210 Hall, Dr. John 16,17,2081, 2210 Hall, Susanna 1547, 2081 Halston, :\-1argaret 1658 Hamilton, William 66, 1128, 397, 525,549,859, 1068, 1128,2146,2270,2394,2403, 2408
Hamlet, Katherine 1729 Hardwick, Paul 625, 1820 Hardy, Robert 2136 Hare, Ernest 710 Hariot, Thomas 2337 Harlow, George H. 1099, 1377 Harris, Clare 2276 Harris, Rabert 2300 Harrow, Lisa 533, 1848, 1849, 1858 Harsnett, Samuel 18i7, 1918, 1919,1920,1921 Harvey, Gabriel 21, li5, 194, 201,1427,1455 Harvey, Lawrence 377, 1773 Harvey, William 1493, 1494 Hassall, Christopher 1626 Hathaway, Anne 9, 16,338, 338
Hatherall, W. 1611 Havilland, William 1806 Havilland, Ob';a de 256, 262,263 Hayman, Francis 113, 153, 294,348,427,478, 518, 649, 2376,2400
Hartes, John 1637 Hayward, Sir John 976 Heath, Caroline 2388 Heele)', Desmond 1561, 1574, 1577, 1582, 1592, 1594, 1596 Helpmann, Robert 57, 57, 257 Heming, John 9,12,16,17, 235,339, 1344,2157,2211 Henclerson, John 1846 Heneage, Sir Thomas, Vice-
Chamberlain to the Queen 12 15,230, 1494 ' Henry II, King of England 1131 Henry 111, King of France 886 Henry IV (Bolingbroke), King of England 752,757,818, 972,973,976, 1078, 1149, 1150,1156,1189,1201,1211,
1274, 1322 Henry IV, King of France (Henry of Navarre) 49, 49, 1097, 1495 Henry V, King of England 757, 1210,1211,1278,1280,1282, 1289 Henry VI, King of England 752,756,757,758,816,817, 818,823,885,954,972,974, 1282 Henry VII. King of England 752,757,954,972,1017, 1367 Henry VIII, King of England 632, 1345, 1346, 1346,1347, 1351, 1352, 1359, 1360, 1365, 1375, 1390, 1392
Henry, George 1318 Henry, of Navarre 27, 172, 173, 175, 196 Henryson, Raberv 1295 Henslowe, Philip' 1349 Hepburn, Katherine 371 Herbert, Jocelyn 960, 984, 1004,'1014
Heywood, Thomas 14,395, 1484 Higgins, Anthony 155 Hiller, Wendy 1695 Hilliard, Nicholas 1373, 1414, 1415, 1419, 1503 Hoby, Sir Edward 972. 1153 Hodges, W·. 328 Hoey, Dennis 61 Hofmann, H. 545 Hogarth, William 125. 1025, 1365,1756,2145 Hogg, Ian 2095, 2120 Holbein, Hans 392, 393, 954, 1346, 1351, 1362, 1390 Holiday, Henry 2159 Holinshed, Raphael 446, 752, 753,757,798,800,900,907,
941, 946, 953, 972, 983, 995, 1044, 1063, 1093, 1123, 1206, 1283,1311,1316,1324,1363, 1671,1874,1890,1899,1945, 1950,1957,1957,1969,1987,
2262 Holland. Philemon 1808 Hollar, Wem:eslas 451,495, 498, 1407
Holloway, Baliol 624 Holm, Ian 1646, 2437 Holman, Mr. 1121 Holmes, Deni.. 1048 Holst, T. von 277 Holte, Helen M. 1782 Homer 782, 931, 1483, 1484 Hopkins, Anthony 2116 Hopkins, Arthur 364 Hopkins, Mrs, P 1567 Hoppner, John 2297 Hopwood, W. 85
2455
INDEX Hordern, Michael 2105 Horton, Priscilla 2418 Hoskins, &siI293, 592 Hoskins, Mrs. 695 Houston, .T •.'\-. 942 Howard, Alan 249,413, 527, 847, 1780 Howard, Lord Henry 954 Hoyt, John 1701 Hudd, Walter 528 Hughes, A. 1781 Hugo, J. 1611,1613, 1618, 1622,1631,1644,1645,1658, 1655, 1664 Humphrey, John 947,951 Hunsdon, George Carey, Lord Chamberlain 972 Hunsdon, Henry Carey, 1st Lord 12,31,175,336,466,1606 Hunt, W. Holman 697 Hunter, G.K. £.631, 635 Hurry, Leslie 573,577,578, 588,589,590,1778,1900, 1907,1929 H uskisson, Robert 1546 Inchbald, EliZabeth 60 Ingham, Barrie 2341, 2351 Ingres, J.A.D. 763 Innocent, Harold 870 Irving, Henry 1348, 1742, 1859,2884,2281 Isabel, Duchess of Burgundy 905 Isham, Gyles 83 Jacobs, Sally 960, 984, 1004, 1014 James I, King of England 12, 175,559,631,690,692,976, 1345,1410,1495,1807,1879, 1948,1949,1950,1957,1960, 1977,2080,2155 James, Ernrys 1119, 1849 Jayston, Michael 1740 Jefford, Barbara 168, 592, 833,851, 908, 947,2282 Jeffrey, Peter 1972 John, King of England 1092, 1093, 1099, 1100, 1134, 1142, 1147 John of Gaunt 818,819,841, 1052 Johnson, Dr. Samuel 19, 22, 72,90,127,172,177,191, 195,235,546,711,756,816, 952,954,975,1280,1344, 1305,1546,1670,1950,1961, 2209,2262,2263, 2396, 2400 Johnson, W.S. 1031 Johnston, Mr. & Mrs. J. 66 Jones, Ernrys 374 Jones, Inigo 299, 299, 864, 2155,2155,2160 Jones, Owen 1801 Jones, S.J.E. 1162 Jonson, Ben 7, 10, 12, 14, 17,19,20,21,22,30,116, 176,233,299,299,339,393, 445,446,502,558,561,562, 886,889,1210,1282,1414, 1424, 1436, 1548, 1605, 1670, 1675,1726,1950,2081,2155, 2157,2207,2337,2396,2401
2456
Jourdan, Sylvester 2396 Kane, John 249 Katherine of Aragon 1347, 1355,1375,1376,1381,1403 Kauffman, Angelica 75,617 Kay, Charles 792 Keach, Stacy 1794 Kean, Charles 1045, 1046, 1052,1064,1071,1911,1914, 1970,2344,2345 Kean, Mrs. Charles 2392 Kean, Edmund 952, 1015, 1023, 1031 Keen, Malcolm 1978, 2341 Keith, Elspeth 616 Kemble, Fanny 1374, 1637 Kemble, John Philip 1339, 1377,1731,2115,2130 Kemp, Will 1728 Kemp, William 12, 25, 25, 391, 504 Kempson, Rachael 2222 Kent, Jonathan 2207,2314 Kent, William 1285 Kernot, Vivienne 157, 164, 169 Kestleman, Sara 249, 728 King, Tom 345 Kingsley, Mary 769 King-Wood, Da,·id 207 Kinnear, Roy 138 Kirk, Thomas 744,1423, 1439, 1448, 1555 Kirkman, Thomas 1291 Knight, Laura 2347 Knyet, Charles 13 54 Kohler, Estelle 197, 220, 717, 728, 1656, 1659, 1740 Koltai, Ralph 2185,2189 Komisarjevsky, Theodore 452 Kyo, Thomas 10,11,19,20, 25, 123,391,393,752,884, 885,886,977,15+3,15+8, 1607,1725,1879 Lacey, Catherine 2122 Lucy, Walter 1046,1052 Lambert, Edmund and Joan 16, 118 Lancaster, Nora 2245 Lane, R.J. 1970 Lang, Matheson 1615, 1852 Langston, Stephen 111 8 Langtry, Lily 2003,2018, 2057 Lanier, Emilia see Bassano 11,15,70,507,1493,1808, 2007,2262 Laughton, Charles 710, 713, 1357, 1975 Lawrence, Gerald 1140 Lawrence, Thomas 1731 Leclerq, Carlotta 2388 Leicester, Robert Dudley, Earl of 235, 1725, 2006 Leigh, Vivian 2070 Leighton, Frederick 1668 Lcighton, Margaret 377 Leslie, C.R. 160,468,518, 1398,2374,2392 Lessingham, Jane 1785 Lewis, Curigwen 1867 Lewis, W.T. 1157
Lewis, Wyndham 2197 Lily, William 116, 131, 200, 209, 522 Livsey, Peggy 87 Llovd, F. 291 Lodge, Ruth 207 Lodge, Thomas 24, 334 Longs ofWraxall 885, 1605, 1606 Lopez, Dr. Roderigo 24, 278, 279,280,319,1495,1523 Loredan, Leonardo, Doge of Venice 313 Lotto, Lorenzo 1457 Louis VII, King of France 1131 Loutherberg, P.]. de 324 Loutherbourg, P.]. de 942 1326,2096,2405 Lovell, Dyson 481 Lowinsky, Thomas 300,325, 331 Lucas, Seymour 1387 Luckham: Cyril 1632 Lucy, Sir William 76 1 Lylr, John 19, 20, 25, 36, 45,70,752,2337 Lynch, Patrick 1968 Lyon, David 140 :\IacArthur, Joan 1870 :\lackJin, :\Iiss 658 :\laclise, Daniel 347, 539, 2418 Macready, William Charles 292, 435, 1243, 1304, 1338, 1342, 1959 :\bchiavelli, Niccolo, 811, 811,885,922,952,975 :\Ialleson, :\liles 200 Manninigham, John 502, 503, 50+, 957 :\Iantegna, Andrea 1678 :\Iantuan 176, 201 :\1archetti, Ludovic 1614, 1634 :.\largaret of Anjou 758, 759, 816,817,823 :.\larkham, Sir Griffin 507, 692 :\b.r1owe, Christopher 9, 10, II, 19,20,20,24,25,30, 69,117,119,120,176,232, 233, 278, 279, 280, 283, 334, 337,369,391,393, +47,++8, 472,493,561,562,752,755, 757,758,759,761,816,818, 886,889,976, 1239, 1412, 1424-, 1455, 149+, 1495, 1544, 1548,1551,1605,1606,1607, 1725,1729,1950,2337,2+01 :\larshall, William, Earl of Pembroke 1130, 11+5 :\larston, :\Irs. H. 1651 :\iarston, Jenny 2370 :\Iarston, John 558, 1536, 1726,2337 :\larinu., Re)merswaeie -van 1472 :.'vlartin-Harvey, John 982 :VIar}' I, Queen of England (:vIary Tudor) 1377, 1403 :\-lason, Brewster 893, 1257 :vIay, Jack 785, 824 McCartn,,)', Lillah 2350
INDEX ~cCowen, Aiex 42
Murray, Brian 1640
:l.lcEne'1', Peter 333,808,1640 :-.icEwen, Geraldine 520, 2253 :\lcGo\\'ran, Jack 91 McKellen, Ian 2344, 2360 :IIIcKenna, Virginia 366 McKinnel, Norman 120 :\'lcLearr, Franklyn 1144 ~ead, Tom 2281 :\leadm'\'s, Kenny 40,45, 77, 100,103,133,152,215,291, 296,307,330,513,547,584, 594,606, 610, 620, 637, 654, 656,665,675,697,725,731, 734, 789, 791, 799,839,844, 861,865,873, 877, 1079, 1107,1123,1186, 1224, 1234, 1241, 1245, 1253, 1276, 1320, 1332, 1680, 1684, 1689, 1708, 1712,1719, 1734, 1743, 1747, 1750,1786,1791,1797,1834, 1853,1911,1960,2028,2062, 2072,2092,2100,2112,2132, 2134,2163,2166,2172,2174, 2178,2184,2202,2284,2289, 2327 :l.lellon, Henry 317 ~leres, Francis 185,335, 1412 :\lerritt, George 1237 Michell, Keith 168, 1579 Miens, Willem ~'an 2334 Milan, Christina, Duchess of 392, 393 ~iles, Vanessa 501 :-.iillais, John 1008 Millais, Sir J. 1728, 1789 Miller, Joan 1691,2300 Miller, Victor 1795 :\liller, William 1605 :\1ilroy, A. 2305 :IIlirren, Helen 685, 808 Moffat, John 2116 :\loise\\'itch, Tanya 646,663, 667,682, 687, 1040, 1170, 1217, 1238, 12·H, 1259, 1216, 1286, 1288, 1291, 1299, 1302, 1314, 1325, 1328, 1329, 1341, 1361,1371, 1372, 1404, 1409, 1817 Mollineux, Emerie 5U7, 535 :1110llison, William 1111, 13 IS Montaigne, M, 1544-, 1877, 2399 :-.iontjoie, Christopher and wife 13, Hi, 51li, 635, 2210 Monjnie, Madame 1282 More, Sir Thomas 953,914, 134-6 :\hreau, J. M. 2113 Mocgan, Priscilla 268 Morley, Toomas 3H, 505 Morris, William 570, 572, 595, 608, 619 :\lortimer, Sir Edmund 841 :\lortimer, JH. 269 Morton, W. 321 :\Iotle\' 342,357, 980, 1626, 176'0,1783,1793,1799,2056, 2068,2135,2355 :IIIuir, Jean 262 :II1unday, Anthony 755 ;\Iunns, Bernard 982 :\Iurad III 1269
Napier, John 1898, 1930, 1938, 1943, 2251,2271,2279, 2312,2324 Nash, Paul 237, 251,261,274 Nashe, Thomas 17, 1i5, 185, 185, 194-,201,758,816 Neilson, Julia 404 Nettles, John 60 1 Neville, John 514, 1185, 1761,1845,1991,2002 :-;ewcombe, :\lary 2019 Nicholls, Anthony 293, 680, 2237 Noel, Jacques 2348,2349, 2354,2363,2366,2389 Nogochi, Isamu 1886, 1887, 1902, 1925, 1928 Norfolk, John HO\\'ard, Duke of 914,1028 Norris, Herbert 1364 ~orth, Sir Thomas 1671, lJl76 Northcote, James 784,888, 889, 950, 959, 1010, 1082, 1127 O'Connor, l 1731 Oldcastle, Sir John 446, 446, 1153, 1158, 1215, 1276 Oliver, Laurence 5]], 979, 1006, 1008, 1199, 1319, 1340, 1545,1556,1558,1759,1801, 1857,1872, 1933, 1968.2088, 2/02,2103,2119 O':-';eil, Hugh, Earl of Tyrone 336 Opic, John 779, 834, 988, 2192 Orchardson, W.Q, 1'i8, 1160 Orleans, Henry, Duke of 1377 Orsino, \'irginio, Duke of Bracchiano 5\17, 51 0,510 Ortelius, :\braham 54, 190 O'Toole, Peter 142, 307 Q,,'id ~J, 43, 96, 116, 20 tl , 232,369,765,798,816,889, 1+12,1414,1148,233.1 ,2336 Palmer, ~Ir. 906 Paracelsus 631, 652 Parker, :\Iarlin 1236 Parkinson, John 2310 Parks, J. Gnwer 39, 44, 50, 51, 53, 59, 62, 78,82, 90, 92,97,102,106,180,191, 202,205,217,222,225,226, 346.353,385,531,545,699, 704, 722, 730, 738, 742, 2022,2064,2267,2279,2285, 2294,2298.2301,2321,2326, 2415,2430,2441, Partridge, Bernard 1884 Pascoe, ran 1048 Pascoe, Richard 1135 Passe, Crispin V'lIn de 1528 Paton, Sir Joseph Koel231, 246 Pavlov, :\1 uriel 254 Peacham, Henry 1552,1553 Peele, Geocge 12J9 Pembroke, William Herbert, Jrd Earl of 10,31,117,121, 393, 1549, 1950
Pennington, Michael 1910, 1920 Penny, Edward 2303 Perez, Antonio 174 l>eters, Rev. M.W. 416, 462, 478, 1380, 1410 Petrarch 1606, 16tl7 Peltie, John 384, 781, 1388 Philip n, King of Spain 174, f,471,751 Picasso, Pablo 1482 Pickup, Ronald 383 Pilory, Ferdinand 1667, 1791 Pindar, John 1027 Pinelli, Bartolomeo 1559, 1581,1583,1600,1699,1703, 1717,1721,1722,2063,2126, 2147,2167,2183 Pitt, Char1es 921 Planche, J.R. 93, 11 1, 1028, 1338 Plaut us, Titus Maccius 21 , 26,27, 116,502,2336 Pliny IR08, 1952 Plutarch 1671, 2Il1)2, 2076, 2152,2332 Poel, William 34, 38, 60, 698,714,727,735 Poole, Paul F. 1946 Pope, :IIIaria Anne 322 Porter, Eric 95, 370, 1895, 1972,2356 Pott, 1.. J. 1095 Pourbus, Fr.ms 49 Poussin, Niclwlas 2054,2311, 2325 Powell, Dick 262 Pownall, Gilbert A. 769 Pride, Malcolm 581, 599, 644 Pritchard, ;\lrs. 1967 Prout, S. 2107 Prud'hon, Pierre Paul 1429 Quartermaine, Leon 1049 Quayle, Antoony 254,406, 592,2105,2150 Quick, John 198 Quiller-Couch, Sir Arthur 29, 231 Quin, James 453, 2145 Rockham, Arthur 241, 247, 255.266 Raleigh, Sir Walter 29, 69, 448,458,562,692,1494, 1503,2208,2397 Ramberg,lH. 537, 721, 1694 Ramberg, R. 60, 108 Randall, l 972 Raphad 1568, 1587, 1588. 2035,2044,2053,2058,2061 , 2171, 2187, 2337 Reddish, Samuel 1923 Redgrave, ;\Iichael 368, 1049, 1883,2443 Re 2457
INDEX 1091. 1148, 1211, 1280,1322 Richard III, King of England 952,954, 1002, 1006, 1345, 1349 Richardson, lan 220, 685, 717,1048, 1065,2122,2229 Richardson, Ralph 1008, 1202, 1831,1867,2175,2203 Richter, H.J. 80 Ricketts, C. 1881,1926 Rigaud, John Francis 65, 1207, 1629 Rigg, Diana 370 Rivers, Anthony Woodville, 2nd Earl 933 Roberts, Rachel 370 Robeson, Paul 1820, 1866, 1869 Robey, George 1204 Robinson, F. 2370 Robinson, Mary 2369 Robinson, W. Heath 243,246, 503,515,516,543,556,557 Robson, Flora 710,713,1356, 1975 Rogers., Paul 370, 2000 Romano, Julio 2337, 2390 Romney, Sir George 558, 622, 1208,2409 Rooney, Mickey 263 Rossetti, D.G. 1826 Rousby, Mr. and Mrs. 1881 Rudland, Peter 1433, 1436 Runciman, John 1875 Rydel, John 1046,1071 Ryder, John 2361 Rye, John 947 Ryley, C.R. 151 Sackerson (the Bear) 447, 456,456 Sainthill, Loudon 2439 Salisbury, Thomas de Montacute, 4th Earl of 1323 Salisbury, William de Longespie, Earl of 113 9 Sampson, Agnes 1956, 1956 Sandy., Frederick 603 Sargent, John Singer 1965 Schwabe, R. 1617, 1620, 1625 Schofield, Paui1877, 1897, 2347 Scot, Reginald 1950 Scott, George C. 2043 Searle, Ronald 350, 2282 Sellers, Elizabeth 1012 Seneca 1548, 2336 Shakespeare, Anne 119 Shakespeare, Edmund, 16,2206, 2209 Shakespeare, Gilbert 13 Shakespeare, Hamnet 9, 1094 Shakespeare, John 7 Shakespeare, Judith 9 Shakespeare, Susanna 9, 15, 16,17,17,119 Sharpe, C.W. 126 Shaw, Glen Byam 640, 659, 689,1506,1519,1535,1679, 1690,1693,1713, 1783, 1793, 1799, 1979,2037,2223,2229, 2245,2251,2258 Shaw, Robert 311
2458
Shaw, Sebastian 197, 685, 728, 1646 Shelley, Samuel 430, 644 Shelving, Paul 2420 Sheridan, Thomas 1687 Sherwin, I.K. 1572 Shore, :Vlistress Jane 991, 998 Shutter, Edward 1250 Siddons, Sarah 721, 1125, 1339,1377, 1964,1964,1966 Sidney, Sir Philip 23, 232, 391,447,476,752,753, 1413,1488,1547,1874,1952, 2333 Sigismund, Emperor 13301Signorelli, Luca 2143 Sim, Alistair 2341 Sinckler, John 889 Sinden, Donald 438, 893 Singleton, Henry 973, 1007, 1022,1053, 1057, 1372, 1378, 1406, 1809, 1986, 1992,2125, 2128,2140,2151 Sittow, :VI. 1367 Sixtus V, Pope 975 Smirke, Robert 201-, 300, 323, 338,361,381,01-32,456,01-85, 499,708,716,1151, 1167, 1169, 1192, 1212, 1643, 2316,2356,2436 Smith, Derek 148, 223 Smith, Mr. 1029 Sm}th, Carleton 1813" 1823, 1825, 1827, 1829, 1836 Sofaer, Abraham 1262 Somerville, Sir John 889 Southampton, Henry \Vriothesley, 3 rd Earl of 10, 11,12,15,24,25,68,69, 71, liZ, 174, 175, 176, 177, 230,231,232,234,279,283, 391,446,559,563,635,601-0, 657,888, 1153, 1280, 1347, 1414,1414, 1415, 1424, 101-26, 1429, 1452, 101-55,1455, 1492, 1493,1605,1606, In4, liZ5, 1728,1952,2153,2209 Southampton, Mary, Countess of 633, 635 Spencer, Gabriel 889, 1635 Spenser, Edmund 232, 234, 284, 355, 390, 752, 753, 754, 1413,1426,1547,1874 Spriggs, Elizabeth 685 Spurrier, Steven 370 Stanley, Ursula 15 3 6 Stephanoff, F.P.O 1629 Stewart, Patrick 354 Stone, Alix 707, 737, 747 Storey, G.A. 2339 Stothard, Thomas 114, 169, 417,1940,2395,2431,2438 Stowe 718 Strache'j', William 1547,2396 Strange, Ferdinando, Lord, 5th Earl of Derby 31, 391 Surrey, Thomas Howard, Earl of 1023 Suzmzn, Janet 138, 333, 354, 791,2038 Taber, Robert 1989 Tagg, Alan 304
albot, John, Earl of Shrewsbury 758,758,773, 794 Tandy, Jessica 1340 Tarleton, Richard 504, 1728 Taylenon, Marilyn 2342,2344 aylo,r, Benedict 1105 Telbin, William 1824 Tempesta, Antonio 1963 Terence 36,46, 116, 131, 209 Terry, Ellen 321, 409, 474, 703, 1358, 1379, 1642, 1652, 1877, 1885, 1965,2272,2328, 2344 Thomson, Henry 2335 Thorndyke, Sybil 1274, 1869, 2102,2103 Thorpe, Thomas 15, 563, 1414, 1424, 1493, 1494, 1495 Thurston, John 489, 875, 1073, 1873 Tiepolo, Giovanni B. 2052 Titian 463, 1355, 1449 Todd, Ann 1185, 1992 Tomkins, C. 1366 Tottel, Richard 449,454,455 Tree, Herbert Beerbohm 24, 407,467,1132,1143, 1384, 1545, 1705, 1768, 1800, 1995 2017,2054,2060 Tresham, Henry 2045,2110 Tudor, Valerie 365 Turleigh, "eronica 2341 Tutin, Dorothy 288,374,520 532 Twine, Lawrence 2196, 2207, 2209 T yuck, :.'.-1argaret 2120
lJ re, Mar), 1820 Vanbrugb, Violet 1977 Vanden hoff, Jobn 2112 Vautrollier, Thomas 1424 Velasquez, Diego 1498 Vereoe, Rosemary 132,136, 145 Vere, Robert de 977 Vernet, Claude Joseph 2365 Vemoese, Paolo 770, 1235, 1517,1528 Vernon, Elizabeth 635, 657 Verona, Michele da 2083 Yoytek 402,414,415,428, 437 Vroom, Cornelius 751 Wagmas, T. 2367 Walker, Anthon), 1110, 1117, 1122,1146,1155,1163,1175 1178,1186,1624,1630,1663 Walker, H. Romaine 2047 Walker, Zena 1796 ' ....aliack, J. R. 2204 Waller, David 569 Waller, Lewis 1115, 1120, 1170,1287,1710 Wallis, Ellen 2015 Walsinghan, Sir Francis 121, 394 Wanamaker, Joe 155 Ward, E.M. 986, 1654 Ward, Genevieve 972 Ward, Robert 776, 1777
INDEX Warner, David 893 Warren, Mr. 668 Warwick (the King-maker), Richard Neville, Earl of 887,888, 932 Waters, Russell 2019 Watts, A.E. 1482 Watts, June 138 Webb, Charles and Henry 65 Webster, John 817 Webster, :\1argaret 1978 Webster, Rosemary 951 Weever, John 1413 Welles, Orson 1882 West, Benjamin 1915 \\'e5t, Charles 870 West, Raphael 380 Westall, Richard 310,314, 1124,1183,1394,1399,1702, 1716,1962,1981,2267,2302 Westmoreland, Ralph Neville, 1st Earl of 1324 Westwell, Raymond 1870, 2105 Wheatley, Francis 35, 150, 442,653,688,1089,2371, 2440
Whitelaw, Billie 1857 Wilkins, George 2207, 2209, 2210 Wilkinson, Norman 182, 184, 192,213,229,238,275,541, 551,552 Williams, Emlyn 293 Willianu;, Harcourt 2407 Williams, :\1ichael 134, 2381 Williamson, Nicol 529 Wilson, John Dover lU8, 1279,1675,1724,1726,1727, 1950,2007 Winstanley, Eliza 459 Withers, Googie 398 Witt, Johannes de 760 Woffington, Pegg 486 Wolsey, Cardinal Thomas 13+6, 13-1-8, 1353, 1354, 1359, 1366, 1395 Wood, John 1590 Woodforde, Samuei1570 Woodstock, Thomas, Duke of Gloucester 10-1-1 Woodville, Elizabeth 888, 920, 933
Woodvine, John 421, 2342 Wordsworth, Richard 600 Worth, Irene 650 Wreford, Edgar 785 Wright, J.M. 448, 807, 948, 966,975, 1085, 1104, 1116, 1171,1190,1222,1242,1264, 1265,1343,1396,1401,1692, 2010,2050,2406,2427,2435 Wright, of Derby 2432 Wurttenburg, Count Mompelgart, Duke of -1--1-9, -1-90, 490 Wyllie, Mrs. Charles 38 Wymark, Patrick 91 \\'ynyard, Diana 406 Yates, Mr. 555 Younge, Maria Anne 2046 Younge, Mr. 386 Yunge-Bateman, J. 1458, 1462, 1464, 1470, 1476, 1489 Zuccarelli, Francesco 1958 Zuccaro, Federigo 393
2459
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS With special thanks to I Ben and John Freeman Geoff Goode Photographics Dermot Hayes Maire Nic Suibhne
John Napier Charlotte Parry-Crooke Marian Pringle and the staff at the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust
Sally Rousham Patrick Rood Tantraline Ltd Robert R. Wark, Huntington Library, California
Rita Wuethrich Sarah Woodcock. Theatre Collection. Victoria and Albert Museum Beno Zeiner
Ashmolean Museum, Oxford William Barnard Marquis of Bath, Longleat 'Birmingham Public Libraries The Bodleian Library, Oxford British Film Institute The British Library The British Museum The Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry Joe COcks Studio A. C. Cooper Ltd. Corpus Christi College, Cambridge County Archives, Essex Records Office Courtauld Institute of Art Crawford Films Ltd The Governors of Dulwich College Picture Gallery Mary Evans Picture Library John R. Freem.'ln Ltd.
The Fine Arts Society Ltd .•
Mander and Mitchenson ManseU Collection Mappin Art Gallery Maudsley Hospital, London National Galleries of Scotland National Gallery, London National Portrait Gallery, London National Maritime Museum, London Newport Museum of Art Ga\1ery National Trust University College of North Wales Queen's College, Cambridge Preston Art Gallery Duchess of Portland Enrl of Pembroke Oliver Robinson (Estate of W. Heath Robinson) Royal Academy of Art
Royal Holloway College Royal Shakespeare Theatre St. Faith's Church, King's Lynn The Shakespeare Birthpl1lCe Truu Sheffield City Art Galleries Mr Simon Wingfield Digby, Sherborne Castle V. Siviter Smith Be Co. Ltd. The Tate Gallery Arthur Tooth Be Sons Unitt.'