UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 MAY TREAT MORRISON 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 ALEXANDER F MORRISON 
 
 
 m* mis. 
 
 A
 
 

 
 THE 
 
 WORKS 
 
 O F 
 
 4 R 
 
 V O L U M E the T H I R D. 
 
 CONTAINING, 
 
 ALL'S WELL, that ENDS WELL. 
 
 T w E L F T H-N i G H T : O, What you will, 
 
 The COMEDY of ERRORS. 
 
 'The W i N T E R-N IGHT'S TALE. 
 
 The LIFE and DEATH of l&ng JOHN. 
 
 LONDON; 
 
 Printed for J. and P. Knapton, 5. ;>/, T. Longman and 
 T. Shewell, H. Lintott, C. Hitch, J. Brindlcy, J. and R. Ton- 
 fon and 5, Draper, R. Islington, E.New> and B. Dad, 
 
 MPCCXLVII,
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 2-9. I. penult, frr tegether read together, p. 77. 1. 16, for 1 
 
 4taA I'll. p. 81. 1. 29. /jr I'll >W I'd. p. 144. 1. 7.1. for it is read 
 
 is his. p. 164. I. 31. for and he muft read and his muft. p. 217. 
 
 I. 36. for in read as. p. 215. 1. IT- for trying rwrf tyring, p. 360. 
 
 !. 17. /r Col. read CIo. p. 424. 1. penult. Jr btiy ra</ by. p. 469. 
 1. 1 1. fr an / en.
 
 A L L s W E L 
 
 THAT 
 
 ENDS WELL. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 B
 
 PER SO NJE. 
 
 KING of France. 
 
 Duke of Florence. 
 
 Bertram, Count of Roufillon. 
 
 Lafeu, an old Lord. 
 
 Parolles, a parafitical follower of Bertram 5 a coward^ 
 
 but vain, and a great pretender to valour. 
 Several young French Lords, that ferve with Bertram in 
 
 the Florentine 'war. 
 
 Stroants 10 the C""* Roufll!on - 
 
 Count efs of Roufillon, mother to Bertram. 
 
 Helena, daughter to Gerard de Narbon, a famous 
 
 phyfician, feme time ftnce dead. 
 An old widow of Florence. 
 Diana, daughter to the 
 
 *r ' ( Neighbours, and friends to the widow. 
 Lords, attending on the King ; Officers, Soldiers, &c. 
 
 SCENE lies partly in France ; and> partly 
 in Tufcany.
 
 ALL'S Well, that ENDS Well. 
 
 A C T I. SCENE I. 
 
 Count efs of Roufillon'^ Honfe in France. 
 
 Enter Bertram, the Countefs of Roufillon, Helena, 
 and Lafeu, all in Mourning. 
 
 CoUNTEgS. 
 
 bury 
 
 N diiTevering my fon from me, I 
 a fecond husband. 
 
 Ber. And I in going, Madam, weep 
 o'er my father's death anew j but I muft 
 attend his Majefty's command, to whom 
 I am now in ward, evermore in fubjection. 
 
 Laf. You (hall find of the King a husband, Ma- 
 dam , you, Sir, a father. He, that fo generally is it 
 all times good, muft of neceffity hold his virtue to 
 
 i In DELIVERING my fon from me ] To deliver from, in 
 the feiife of giving up, is not Englifh. Skakefpear wrote, in 
 DISSEVERING my fon from me The following Words, too, 
 
 . / bury a fecond husband demand this reading. For to 
 
 diffevtr implies a violent divorce ; and therefore might be com- 
 pared to the burying a butband', which, delivering does not. 
 
 ./, B 2 you 5
 
 4 All's veil, that Ends <well. 
 
 you; * whofe vvorthinefs would ftir it up where it 
 wanted, rather than flack it where there is fuch abun- 
 ' dance. 
 
 Count. What hope is there of his Majefty's amend- 
 ment ? 
 
 Laf. He hath abandon'd his phyficians, Madam, 
 under whofe practices he hath perfecuted time with 
 hope ; and finds no other advantage in the procefs, 
 but only the lofing of hope by time. 
 
 Count. J This young gentlewoman had a father, 
 (O, tint bad! how fad a Prefage 'tis ! ) whofe skill 
 was almoft as great as his honefty ; had it ftretch'd fo 
 far, it would have made nature immortal, and death 
 fhould have play'd for lack of work. 'Would, for 
 the King's fake, he were living! I think, it would 
 be the death of the King's difeafe. 
 
 Laf. How call'd you the man you fpeak of. 
 Madam ? 
 
 Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profefflon, and 
 it was his great right to be fo: Gerard de Narbon. 
 
 Laf. He was excellent, indeed, Madam ; the King 
 very lately fpoke of him admiringly, and mourningly : 
 
 2 nubofe ivortkincfs would ftir it up <where it wanted, rather 
 than lack it where there is fetch abundance. ~\ An Oppofition of 
 Terms is vHibly defign'd in this fencence ; tho' the Oppofition is 
 not fo vifible, as the Terms now ftand. Wanted and Abundance 
 are the Oppofites to one another; biu how is lack a Contrail to 
 jlir up? The Addition of a fingie Letter gives it, and the very 
 Senfe requires it. "fy&fi flack it. 
 
 3 This young gentlenxorran had a father ( O, that had ! ko<vi 
 fod a PASSAGE ""' /*'.'/] Letfeu was fpeaking of the King's defpe- 
 rate Condition: which makes the Coumefs .recall to mind the de- 
 ceafed Gerard de Narbon, who, fhe thinks, could have cured him. 
 But in ufmg the word bad, which implied his death, me flops in 
 the middle of her fentence, and makes a reflexion upon it, which, 
 according to the prefent reading, is unintelligible. We mufl there- 
 fore believe Shakefpear wrote ( O that had ! how fad a PRESAGE 
 'tis ) /. e. a Prefage that the King muft now expeft no cure, fince 
 fo skilful a Perfon was himfelf forced to fubmit to a malignant 
 diftemper. 
 
 he
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 
 
 he was skilful enough to have liv'd ftiJJ, if knowledge 
 could be fet up againft mortality. 
 
 Ber. What is it, my good lord, the King lan- 
 gui fries of? 
 
 Laf. A fiftula, my lord. 
 
 Ber. I heard not of it before. 
 
 Laf. I would, it were not notorious. Was this 
 gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narlon ? 
 
 Ceunt. His fole child, my lord, and bequeathed to 
 my overlooking. I have thofe hopes of her good, 
 that her education promifes her; difpofition me in- 
 herits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for 4 where an 
 unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there, com- 
 mendations go with pity j they are virtues and traitors 
 too : in her they are the better for her fimplenefs ; fhe 
 derives her honefty, and atchieves her goodnefs. 
 
 4 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 fimplenefs ; foe derives her ho~ 
 nejly, and atchieves her goodnefs.] This obfcure encomium is 
 made ftill more obfcure by a flight corruption of the text. Let 
 us explain the paflage as it lies. By virtuous qualities are meant 
 qualities of good breeding and erudition ; in the fame fenfe that 
 the Italians fay, qualita <virtuofa', and not moral ones. On this 
 account it is, me lays, that, in an ill mind, thefe virtuous qualities 
 are virtues and traitors too; i. e. the advantages of education 
 enable an ill mind to go further in wickednefs than it could have 
 done without them : But, fays the Countefs, in her they are the 
 better far THEIR fimp/enefs. Butjtmplenffs is the fame with what 
 is called ione/ty, immediately after; which cannot be predicated 
 of the qualities of education. We mud certainly read 
 
 HER fimplenefs 
 
 And then the fentence is properly concluded. The Countefs had 
 (aid, that virtuous qualities are the worfe for an unclean mind, 
 but concludes that Helens are the better for herjimplenefs. i. e. her 
 clean, pure mind. She then fums up the Character, (he had before 
 given in detail, in thefe words, Jhe derives her honejly, and at- 
 chieves her goodnefs ', i. e. She derives her honejly, her Jimplenefe, 
 her moral Character, from her Father and Ancettors : Bat me at- 
 chieves or wins her goodnefs, her virtue, or her qualities of good- 
 breeding and erudition, by her own pains and labour. 
 
 B 3 14-
 
 All's 'welly that Ends 'well 
 
 Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her 
 tears. 
 
 Count. *Tis the beft brine a maiden can feafon her 
 praife in. The remembrance of her father never ap^- 
 proaches her heart, but the tyranny of her forrows 
 takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of 
 this, Helena, go to, no more ; left it be rather thought 
 you afFect a forrow, than to have it. 
 
 Hel. I do affecT: a forrow, indeed, but I have it 
 too. 
 
 Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, 
 exceffive grief the enemy to the living. 
 
 Count. 3 If the living be not enemy to the grief, 
 the excefs makes it foon mortal. 
 
 Ber. Madam, I defire your holy wifhes. 
 
 Laf. How underftand we that ? 
 
 Count. Be thou bleft, Bertram, and fucceed thy 
 
 father 
 
 In manners as in fhape ! thy blood and virtue 
 Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodnefs 
 Share with thy birth-right! Love all. truit a few, 
 Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy 
 Rather in power, than ufe j and keep thy friend 
 Under thy own life's key : be check'd for filence, 
 But never tax'd for fpeech. What heav'n more will, 
 That thee may furnifh, and my prayers pluck down s 
 Fall on thy head! Farewel, my lord ; 
 3 Fis an unfeafon'd courtier, good my lord, 
 Advife him. 
 
 Laf. He cannot want the beft, 
 That fliall attend his love. 
 
 5 If the living le enemy to the grief, the excefs makes it fan 
 mortal.] This feems very obfcure ; but the addition of a Nega- 
 tive perfe&ly difpels all the milt. If the living be not enemy, &c. 
 exceflive grief is an enemy to the living, lays Lafeu. : Ye?, 
 jreplies theCountefs; and if the living be not enemy to the grief, 
 i. e. ftrive to conquer it,] the excefs makes it foon mortal. 
 
 Count.
 
 All's 'well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Count. Heav'n blefs him! FarevveJ, Bertram. 
 
 {Exit Countefs. 
 
 Ber. [To. Hel.] The beft wifhes, that can be forg'd 
 in your thoughts, be fervants to you ! Be comfortable 
 to my mother, your miftrefs, and make much of 
 her. 
 
 Laf. FareweJ, pretty lady, you muft hold the 
 credit of your father. {Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Hel. Oh, were that all! 1 think not on my 
 
 father ; 
 
 And thefe great tears grace his remembrance more 3 
 Than thofe I fhed for him. What was he like? 
 I have forgot him. My imagination 
 Carries no favour in it, but my Bertram's. 
 I am undone ; there is no living, none, 
 If Bertram be away. It were all one, 
 That 1 mould love a bright partic'lar ftar, 
 And think to wed it; he is fo above me: 
 In his bright radiance 6 and collateral light 
 Muft I be comforted, not in his fphere. 
 Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itfelf ; 
 The hind, that would be mated by the lion, 
 Muft die for love. 'Twas pretty, tho' a plague, 
 To fee him every hour ; to fit 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 fweet favour! 
 But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy 
 Muft fanctify his relicks. Who comes here ! 
 
 6 and collateral light.] collateral for reflected. \, c. in the 
 
 radiance of his reflected light; not in his fphere, or direft light. 
 Mitten ufes the word, in the fame fenfe, fpeaking of the Son, 
 
 Of high collateral Glory. Book 10 v. 86. 
 
 B 4 Enter
 
 All's well, flat Ends 'well. 
 
 Enter Parolles. 
 
 One, that goes with him : I love him for his fake, 
 
 " And yet I know him a notorious Jiar ; 
 
 *' Think him a great way fool, folely a coward ; 
 
 ** Yet thefe fix'd evils fit fo fit in him, 
 
 " That they take place, when virtue's fteely bones 
 
 " Look bleak in the cold wind -," full oft we fee 
 
 7 Cold wifdom waiting on fuperfluous folly. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Par. Save you, fair Queen. 
 
 Hel. And you, Monarch. 
 
 Par. No. 
 
 Hel. And no. 
 
 Par. Are you meditating on virginity ? 
 
 Hel. Ay: you have fome 8 flain of foldier in you j 
 let me ask you a queflion. Man is enemy to virgi- 
 nity, how may we barricade it againft him ? 
 
 Par. Keep him out. 
 
 Hel. But he aflafls ; and our virginity, tho s valiant, 
 in the defence yet is weak : unfold to us fome warlike 
 refiftance. 
 
 Par. There is none: man, fetting down before 
 you, will undermine you, and blow you up. 
 
 Hel. Blefs our poor virginity from underminers and 
 
 blowers up ! Is there no military policy, how 
 
 virgins might blow up men ? 
 
 Par. Virginity being blown down, man will quick- 
 lier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down 
 again, with the breach yourfelves made, you lofe 
 
 7 Cold nvi/Jom waiting on fuperfluous /o#y.] Cold for naked ; as 
 fuperfuous for over-cloath'd. This makes the propriety of the 
 Antithefis. 
 
 8 Stain of folditr} flam for colour. Parolles was in red, as 
 ilppears from his being afterwards called red-taird humble bee. 
 
 your
 
 All's 'well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 your city. It is not politick in the commonwealth 
 of nature, to preferve virginity. Lofs of virginity 
 is rational increafe ; and there was never virgin got, 
 'till virginity was firft loft. That, you were made of, 
 is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once loft, 
 may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is 
 ever loft , 'tis too cold a companion : away with't. 
 
 Hel. I will ftand for't a little, though therefore I 
 die a virgin. 
 
 Par. There's little can be faid in't , 'tis againft the 
 rule of nature. To fpeak on the part of virginity, 
 is to accufe your mother ; which is mod infallible difo- 
 bedience. As 9 he, that hangs himfelf, fo is a virgin: 
 virginity murthers itfelf, and fhould be buried in 
 highways out of all fanctified limit, as a defperate 
 offendrefs againft nature. Virginity breeds mites, 
 much like a cheefe ; confumes itfelf to the very 
 paring, and fo dies with feeding its own ftomach. 
 Befides, virginity is peevifh, proud, idle, made of 
 felf-love, which is the moft prohibited fin in the 
 canon. Keep it not, you cannot chufe but lofe 
 by't. Out with't; within ten years it will make 
 itfelf two, which is a goodly increafe, and the 
 principal itfelf not much the worfe. Away with't. 
 Hel. How might one do, Sir, to lofe it to her own 
 liking ? 
 
 9 He, that hangs himfelf, is a Pit-gin:] But why is he that hangs 
 himfelf a Virgin ? Surely, not for the reafon. that follows, Virgi- 
 nity murders itfelf. For tho' every Virgin be a Suicide, yet evtry 
 Suicide is not a Virgin. A word or two are dropt, which intro- 
 duced a comparifon in this place ; and Shakefpear wrote it thus, 
 
 A s he, that bangs himfelf, so is a Virgin. 
 
 And then it follows naturally, Virginity murders itfelf. By this 
 emendation, the Oxford Editor was enabled to alter the Text 
 thai, 
 
 He that hangs himfelf is like a Virgin. 
 
 And this is his afual way of becoming a Critick at a cheap ex- 
 pence. 
 
 Par.
 
 io All's f well ) that Ends 'well. 
 
 Par. Let me fee. Marry, ill, to like him that 
 ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lofe the glofs 
 with lying. The longer kept, the lefs worth: off 
 with't, while 'tis vendible. Anfwer the time of re- 
 queft. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap 
 out of fafhion : richly futed, but unfutable ; juft like 
 the brooch and the toothpick, which we wear not 
 now : your date is better in your pye and your por- 
 ridge, than in your cheek ; and your virginity, your 
 old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears ; 
 it looks ill, it eats drily ; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear: 
 it was formerly better i marry, yet 'tis a wither'd 
 pear. Will you any thing with it? 
 
 HeL Not my virginity yet. 
 There fhall your mafter have a thoufand loves, 
 A mother, and a miftrefs, and a friend, 
 1 [A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, 
 A guide, a goddefs, and a fovereign, 
 A counfellor, a traitrefs, and a dear j 
 His humble ambition, proud humility ; 
 His jarring concord ; and his difcord dulcet ; 
 His faith, his fweet difafter i with a world 
 Of pretty fond adoptious chriftendoms, 
 That blinking Cupid goflips. Now fhall he ] 
 
 1 A Phoenix, Captain^ &c.] The eight following lines between 
 the hooks, 1 am perfuadtd is the nonfenfe of fome foolifh con- 
 ceited Player. What put it into his head was Helen's faying, as it 
 ihould be read for the future, 
 
 There Jhall your Mafter have a thoufand loves! 
 
 J Mother, and a Miftrefs, and a Friend. 
 
 / know not, nuhat he Jhall God fend him well. 
 
 Where the Fellow finding a thoufand loves fpoken of, and only 
 three reckoned up, namely a Mother's, a Miflreff's, and a.Frittuf* f 
 (which, by the way, were all a judicious Writer could mention ; 
 for there are but thefe three fpecies of love in Nature) he would help 
 out the number, by the intermediate nonfenfe: and, becaufe they 
 were yet too few, he pieces out his /owes with enmities, and makes 
 of the whole fuch finifhed nonfenfe as is never heard out of 
 Bedlam.
 
 All's well) that Ends well. I j 
 
 I know not, what he fhall God fend him well! 
 The court's a learning place and he is one 
 
 Par. What one, i'faith ? 
 
 Hel. That I wifh well 'tis pity 
 
 Par. What's pity? 
 
 Hel. That wifhing well had not a body in't, 
 Which might be felt; that We the poorer born, 
 Whofe bafer flars do fiiut us up in wifhes, 
 Might with effects of them follow our friends : 
 And fhew what we alone muft think, which never 
 Returns us thanks. 
 
 Enter Page. 
 
 Page. Monfieur Parolles, 
 My lord calls for you. [Exit Page. 
 
 Par. Little Helen, farewel ; if I can remember 
 thee, I will think of thee at court. 
 
 Hel. Monfieur Paroltes, you were born under a 
 charitable ftar. 
 
 Par. Under Mars, I. 
 
 Hel. I efpecially think, under Mars; 
 
 Par. Why under Mars ? 
 
 Hel. The wars have kept you fo under, that you 
 muft needs be born under Mars. 
 
 Par. When he was predominant. 
 
 Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather. 
 
 Par. Why think you fo ? 
 
 Hel. You go fo much backward, when you fight. 
 
 Par. That's for advantage. 
 
 Hel. So is running away, when fear propofes fafety : 
 but the compofition, that your valour and tear makes in 
 you, z is a virtue of agood ming, and I like the wear well. 
 
 2 if a virtue of a goad WING, and I like tl?e. wear well.] 
 The integrity of the metaphor cireds us to Shakefpeat"* true read- 
 ing ; which, doubtlefs, was a good MING, i.e. mixture, 
 
 compofition, a word common to Shakejpear and the writers of this 
 age ; and taken from the texture of cloth. The M was turn'd the 
 wrong way at the prefs, and from thence came the blunder. 
 
 Par.
 
 All's veil, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Par. I am fo full of bufinefies, as I cannot anfwer 
 thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier > in the 
 which, my inftruction mall ferve to naturalize thee, 
 fo thou wilt be capable of courtier's counfd, and un- 
 derftand what advice fhall thruft upon thee ; elfe thou 
 dieft in thine unthankfulnefs, and thine ignorance 
 makes thee awayj farewel. When thou haft leifure, 
 fay thy prayers; when thou haft none, remember thy 
 friends ; get thee a good husband, and ufe him as he 
 ufes thee : fo farewel. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 flel. Our remedies oft in ourfelves do lie, 
 Which we afcribe to heav'n. The fated sky 
 Gives us free fcope ; only, doth backward pull 
 Our flow defigns, when we ourfelves are dull. 
 What power is it, which mounts my love fo high, 
 That makes me fee, and cannot feed mine eye ? 
 The mightieft fpace in fortune nature brings 
 To join like likes ; and kifs, like native things. 
 Impoflible be ftrange attempts, to thofe 
 That weigh their pain in fenfe ; and do fuppofe, 
 What hath been, cannot be. Who ever (trove 
 To -Ihew her merit, that did mifs her love ? 
 The King's difeafe my project may deceive me, 
 But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. 
 
 [*//. 
 
 SCENE
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 13 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Changes to the Court of France. 
 
 Flourijh Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, 
 and divers Attendants. 
 
 King, np H E Florentines and Senoys are by th" cars ; 
 1 Have fought with equal fortune, and continue 
 A braving war. 
 
 i Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir. 
 
 King. Nay, 'tis moft credible ; we here receive it, 
 A certainty vouch'd from our coufin Auftria ; 
 With caution, that the Florentine will move us 
 For fpeedy aid ; wherein our deareft friend 
 Prejudicatcs the bufinefs, and would feem 
 To have us make denial. 
 
 1 Lord. His love and wifdom, 
 Approved fo to your Majefty, may plead 
 For ample credence. 
 
 King. He hath arrn'd our anfwer ; 
 And Florence is deny'd, before he comes: 
 Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to fee 
 The Tufcan fervice, freely have they leave 
 To (land on either part. 
 
 2 Lord\\t may well ferve 
 
 A nurfery to our gentry, who are fick 
 For breathing and exploit. 
 King. What's he comes here? 
 
 Enter Bertram, Lafeu and Parolles. 
 
 i Lord. It is the count Roujillon, my good lord, 
 young Bertram. 
 
 King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy father's face. 
 Frank nature, rather curious than in hafte, 
 
 Hath
 
 1 4 All's 'well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts 
 May'ft thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. 
 
 Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majefty's. 
 
 King. I would, I had that corporal foundnefs now, 
 As when thy father and myfelf in friendfhip 
 Firft try'd our foldierfhip : he did look far 
 Into the fervice of the time, and was 
 Difcipled of the brav'ft. He lafted long ; 
 But on us both did J haggifh age fteal on, 
 And wore us out of a<5l. It much repairs me 
 To talk of your good father j in his youth 
 He had the wit, which I can well obferve 
 To day in our young lords ; but they may jeft, 
 Till their own fcorn return to them unnoted, 
 
 4 Ere they can hide their levity in honour: 
 
 5 So like a courtier, no contempt or bitternefs 
 Were in him ; pride or fharpnefs, if there were, 
 His equal had awak'd them -, and his honour, 
 Clock to itfelf, knew the true minute when 
 Exceptions bid him fpeak ; and at that time 
 
 His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him 
 
 3 haggijb agefteal on,] age, which debilitates; alluding to 
 
 the fuperftitions of being hagridden in the Epialtis ; which coming 
 gradually on, it was faid, the witch Jiole upon them. 
 
 4 Ere they can hide their levity in honour :] i. e. ere their titles 
 can cover the levity of their behaviour, and make it pafs for de- 
 fert. The Oxford Editor, not underftanding this, alter,* the line to 
 Ere they can <vye their levity with his honour." 
 
 5 So like a Ceurtier, fro Contempt or Bitternefs 
 Were in his Pride or Sbarpnefs; if they -were, 
 
 His Equal had awak'd them. ] This Paflage is fo very 
 
 incorre&ly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is loft. As the 
 Text and Stops are reform'd, thefe are moft beautiful Lines, and 
 
 the Senfe is this " He had no Contempt or Bitttrnefs ; if he 
 
 had any thing that look'd like Pride or Sbarpnefs t (of which 
 Qualities Contempt and Bitternefs are the Excefles,) his Equal 
 had awak'd them, not his Inferior ; to whom he fcorn'd to 
 difcovcr any thing that bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharp- 
 nefs." 
 
 He
 
 All's well* that Ends 
 
 * He us'd as creatures of another place, 
 
 And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks ; 
 
 7 Making them proud ; and his humility, 
 
 In their poor praife, he humbled : Such a man 
 
 Might be a copy to thefe younger times -, 
 
 Which, fbllow'd well, would now demonftrate them 
 
 But goers backward. 
 
 Ber. His good remembrance, Sir, 
 
 Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; 
 
 So in approof 8 lives not his epitaph, 
 
 As in your royal fpeech. [fay, 
 
 King. 'Would, I were with him ! he would always 
 
 (Methinks, I hear him now j his plaufive words 
 
 He fcatter'd not in ears, but grafted them 
 
 To grow there, and to bear ;) Let me not live, 
 
 (Thus his good melancholy oft began, 
 
 On the cataftrophe and heel of paftime, 
 
 When it was out,) let me not live, (quoth he,) 
 
 After my flame lacks oil ; to be the fnuff 
 
 Of younger fpirits, whofe apprehenfive fcnfes 
 
 All but new things difdain ; whofe judgments are 
 
 Meer fathers of their garments ; whofe conftancies 
 
 Expire before their fafhions: this he wifh'd. 
 
 I, after him, do after him wifh too, 
 
 (Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,) 
 
 I quickly were diflblved from my hive. 
 
 6 He us'J as creatures of another place.] i. e. he made allow- 
 ances for their conduct, and bore from them whar he would not 
 from one of his own rank. The Oxford Editor, not underfland- 
 ing the Senfe, has altered another place, to a Brother-race. 
 7 Making them proud O F his humility, 
 
 In their poor praife, he humbled ] But why were they 
 
 proud of his Humility ? It mould be read and pointed thus. 
 Making them proud; AND his Humility, 
 In their poor praife, he humbled 
 
 i. e. by condefcending to rtoop to his Inferiors, he exalted them 
 and made them proud-, and, in the gracious receiving their por 
 praife, he humbled even his humility. The Sentiment is fine. 
 S lives not his epitaph,] epitaph for character. 
 
 To
 
 1 6 All's well, that Ends 'welt. 
 
 To give Tome 9 labourer room. 
 
 2 Lord. You're loved, Sir ; 
 They, that lead lend it you, fhall lack you firft. 
 
 King. I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, 
 Since the phyfician at your father's died ? 
 He was much fam'd. 
 
 Ber. Some fix months fmce, my lord. 
 
 King. If he were living, I would try him yet; 
 Lend me an arm ; the reft have worn me ouc 
 With feveral applications ; nature and ficknefs 
 Debate it at their leifure. Welcome, count, 
 My fon's no dearer. 
 
 Ber. Thank your Majefty. \_FlouriJh. Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to the Countefs's at Roufillon. 
 
 Enter Countefs^ Steward and Clown. 
 
 Count. ,T WILL now hear; what fay you of this 
 JL gentlewoman ? 
 
 Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your 
 content, I wifh might be found in the calendar of 
 my paft endeavours 5 for then we wound our modefty, 
 and make foul the clearnefs of our defervings, when 
 of ourfelves we publim them. 
 
 Count. What does this knave here ? get you gone, 
 Sirrah : the complaints, I have heard of you, I do 
 not all believe i 'tis my flownefs that I do not, for, 
 I know, * you lack not folly to commit them, and 
 have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yours. 
 
 Clo. 
 
 9 labourers room.] We {hould read labourer, i. e. an a&ive 
 fucceffor. 
 
 i you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to 
 make fuch knaveries YOURS.] Well, but if he had folly to com- 
 mit them, he neither wanted knavery, nor any thing elfe, fare, 
 to make them his 9<wn. This nonfenfe fhould be read, To make 
 
 fuch
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 17 
 
 Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a 
 poor fellow. 
 
 Count. Well, Sir. 
 
 Clo. No, Madam ; 'tis not fo well that I am poor, 
 tho' many of the rich are damn*d , but, if I have 
 your ladyfhip's good will to go to the world, Lbel thfe 
 woman and I will do as we may. 
 
 Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? 
 
 Clo. I do beg your good will in this cafe. 
 
 Count. In what cafe ? 
 
 Clo. In JjM's cafe, and mine own ; fervice is no he- 
 ritage, and, I think, I mall never have the blefling of 
 God, 'till I have Iffue of my body ; for they lay, 
 beams are bleffings. 
 
 Count. Tell me thy reafon why thou wilt marry. 
 
 Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires ic. I am 
 driven on by the Flefri ; and he muft needs go, that 
 the devil drives. 
 
 Count. Is this all your worfhip's reafon ? 
 
 Clo. Faith, Madam 3 1 have other holy reafons, fuch 
 as they are. 
 
 Count. May the world know them? 
 
 Clo. I have been, Madam, a wicked creature, as 
 you and all flem and blood arc 5 and, indeed, 1 do 
 marry, that I may repent. 
 
 fucb kna<ueriet YARE; nimble, dextrous, /. e. Tho' you befool 
 enough to commit knaveries, yet you have quicknefs enough to 
 commit them dextrouily: for this obfervation was to let us into 
 his chara&er. But now, tho' this be fet right, and, I dare lay. 
 in Shakefpear's own words, yet the former part of the femence will 
 flill be inaccurate you lack not folly to commit THEM. Them, 
 what ? the fenfe requires knaveries, but the antecedent referr'd 
 to, is complaints. But this was certainly a negligence of Sbaie- 
 fpear's, and therefore to be leU as we find it. And tho reader, 
 who cannot fee that this is an inaccuracy which the Author might 
 well commit, and the other what he never could, has either read 
 Sbakefpear very little, or greatly mifpent his pains. The prin- 
 cipal office of a ciicick is to diliingui'h between thefe two thing.. 
 Cut 'da that branch of criticiim which no precepts can teach. 
 the writer to difcharge, or the reader to judge of. 
 
 VOL, III. C Count.
 
 1 8 All's we//, that Ends well. 
 
 Count. Thy marriage, fooncr than thy wickedneis. 
 
 do. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to 
 have friends for my wife's fake. 
 
 Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. 
 
 Clo. Y* are mallow, Madam, in great friends ; for 
 the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary 
 of; he, that eares my land, {pares my team, and gives 
 me leave to inne the crop ; if I be his cuckold, he's 
 my drudge ; he, that comforts my wife, is the che- 
 rifher of my flem and blood ; he, that cheriflieth my 
 flem and blood, loves my flelh and blood ; he, that loves 
 my flefh and blood, is my friend : ergo, he, that 
 kiifes my wife, is my friend. If men could be con- 
 tented to be what they are, there were no fear in mar- 
 riage ; for young Cbarbon the puritan, and old Poyfam 
 the papift, howfoe'er their hearts are fever'd in reli- 
 gion, their heads are both one ; they may joul horns 
 together, like any deer i* th* herd. 
 
 Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and ca- 
 lumnious knave ? 
 
 Clo. * A prophet, I, Madam ; and I fpeak the 
 truth the next way. 
 " For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true 
 
 fhall find ; 
 
 8 Your marriage comes by deftiny, your cuckow (ings 
 by kind. 
 
 2 A prophet, I, Ma Jam ; and 1 fpeak the truth the next way.] 
 It is a fuperftition, which has run through all ages and people, 
 that natural fools have fomething in them of divinity. On which 
 account they were elleemed facred : Travellers tell us in what 
 efteem the Turks now hold them ; nor had they lefs honour 
 paid them heretofore in France, as appears from the old word 
 Benet, for a natural fool. Hence it was that Pantagruel, in 
 Rablaii, advifed Panurge to go and confult the fool Trtboulet 
 as an oracle ; which gives occafion to a fatirical Stroke upon 
 the privy council of Francis the Firft Par favis, conftil, pre- 
 diftion desfals vos/favez quants princes, &c. ont f/le confer <vez, 
 &C. The phrafe '/peak the truth the next 'way, means direBly t 
 as they do who are only the inilruments or canals of others; 
 fuch as infpired perfons were fuppofed to be. 
 
 Count,
 
 All V wet/, that Ends well. 
 
 Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'ii talk with you more 
 anon. 
 
 Stew. May it pleafe you, Madam, that he bid 
 Helen come to you ; of her I am to fpeak. 
 
 Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would fpeak; 
 with her ; Helen I mean. 
 
 Go. 3 " Was this fair face the caufe, quoth (he, 
 
 " Why the Grecians facked Troy ? 
 
 cc Fond done, fond done ; for Paris , he, 
 
 " Was this King Priam's joy. 
 
 " With that (he fighed as me flood, 
 
 " And gave this fentence then ; 
 
 " 4 Among nine bad if one be good, 
 
 " There's yet one good in ten. 
 
 Count. What, one good in ten ? You corrupt the 
 fong, Sirrah. 
 
 Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam, which is 
 a purifying o'th' fong : 'would, God would ferve the 
 
 3 Wai this fair face the caufd, quoth Jhe t 
 Why the Grecians facked Troy ? 
 Fond done, fond done ; 
 
 Was this King Priam's joy. ~\ This is a Stanza of an old 
 ballad, out of which a word or two are dropt, equally necefiary 
 to make the fenfe and the alternate rhime. For it was not Helen, 
 who was King Priam $ joy, but Paris. The third line therefore 
 ihould be read thus, 
 
 Fond done, fond done ', FOR PARIS, HE. 
 
 4 Among nine bad if one le good, 
 
 There's yet one good in ten.] This fecond fianzi of the 
 ballad is turned to a joke upon the women: a confeffion, that 
 there was one good in ten. Whereon the Countefs obferved, that 
 he corrupted the fong ; which (hews the fong faid, Nine good in ten, 
 
 If one be bad amonpfl nine good, 
 
 There""* but one bad in ten. 
 
 This relates to the ten fons of Priam, who all behaved themfelves 
 well but Paris. For, tho' he once had fifty, yet at this unfortu- 
 nate period of his reign he had but ten ; Agatbon, Antiphon t 
 Deipbobus, Dius, Heftor, He/eus, Hippothvus, Ptmmon, Paris, 
 and Polites. 
 
 C 2 world
 
 20 All's 'well) that Ends 'well 
 
 world fo all the year! we'd find no fault with the 
 tythe-woman, if I were the Parfon ; one in ten, 
 quoth a* ! an we might have a good woman born but 
 every blazing ftar, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend 
 the lottery well ; a man may draw his heart out, ere 
 he pluck one. 
 
 Count. You'll be gone, Sir knave, and do as I 
 command you ? 
 
 Clo. That man that mould be at a woman's com- 
 mand, and yet no hurt done ! tho* honefty be no pu- 
 ritan, yet it will do no hurt -, it will wear the furplis 
 of humility over the black gown of a big heart: I 
 am going, forfooth, the bufmefs is for Helen to come 
 hither. {Exit. 
 
 Count. Well, now. 
 
 Stew. I know, Madam, you love your gentlewoman 
 intirely. 
 
 Count. Faith, I do; her father bequeath'd her to 
 me ; and me herfelf, without other advantages, may 
 lawfully make title to as much love as (he finds ; there 
 is more owing her, than is paid ; and more mall be 
 paid her, than fhe'Jl demand. 
 
 Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her, 
 than, I think, me wifh'd me; alone fhe was, and 
 did communicate to herfelf her own words to her 
 own ears; me thought, I dare vow for her, they 
 touch'd not any ftranger fenfe. Her matter was, fhe 
 lov'd your fon ; Fortune, fhe faid, was no Goddefs, 
 that had put fuch difference betwixt their two eftates; 
 Love, no God, that would not extend his might, only 
 where qualities were level ; 5 Diana 9 no Queen of 
 Virgins, that would fuffer her poor Knight to be fur- 
 priz'd without refcue in the firft aiiault, or ranfom 
 afterward. This {he deliver'd in the mod bitter touch 
 of forrow, that e'er I heard a virgin exclaim in ; 
 
 c Diana added by Mr. Theobald. 
 
 which
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 2 1 
 
 which I held it my duty fpeedily to acquaint you 
 withal ; fithence, in the lofs that may happen, it con- 
 cerns you fomething to know it. 
 
 Count. You have difcharg'd this honeftly, keep it 
 to yourfelf; many likelihoods informed me of this 
 before, which hung fo tottering in the balance, that 
 I could neither believe nor mifdoubt; pray you, 
 leave me ; flail this in your bofom, and I thank you 
 for your honeft care j I will fpeak with you further 
 anon. [Exit Steward. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter Helena. 
 
 Count. Ev'n fo it was with me, when I was young ; 
 
 If we are nature's, thefe are ours : this thorn 
 Doth to our rofe of youth rightly belong ; 
 
 Our blood to us, this to our blood, is born ; 
 It is the mow and feal of nature's truth, 
 Where love's ftrong paffion is impreft in youth ; 
 By our remembrances of days foregone, 
 6 Such were our faults, or then we thought them 
 
 none. 
 Her eye is fick on't ; I obferve her now. 
 
 Hel. What is your pleafure, Madam ? 
 
 Count. Helen^ you know, I am a mother to you. 
 
 Hel. Mine honourable miftrefs. 
 
 Count. Nay, a Mother ? 
 Why not a mother ? when I faid a mother, 
 Methought, you faw a ferpent ; what's in mother, 
 That you ftart at it ? I fay, I'm your mother ; 
 
 6 Such were our faults, o R then ive thought them none ] We 
 fiiould read, 
 
 Of then we thought them none. 
 
 A motive for pity and pardon j agreeable to fact, and the indul- 
 gent chara&er of the fpeaker. This was fenc to the Oxford Editor, 
 and he altered O, to tko\ 
 
 G 3 And
 
 22 All's 'well, that Ends well. 
 
 And put you in the catalogue of thofe, 
 That were enwombed mine ; *tis often feen, 
 Adoption drives with nature ; and choice breeds 
 7 A native flip to us from foreign feeds. 
 You ne'er oppreft me with a mother's groan, 
 Yet I exprefs to you a mother's care : 
 God's mercy! maiden, do's it curd thy blood, 
 To fay, I am thy mother ? what's the matter, 
 That this diftemper'd meflenger of wet, 
 The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eyes ? 
 Why, that you are my daughter? 
 
 Hel. That I am not. 
 
 Count. I fay, I am your mother. 
 
 Hel. Pardon, Madam. 
 The Count Roufillon cannot be my brother ; 
 I am from humble, he from honour'd, name j 
 No note upon my parents, his all noble. 
 My matter, my dear lord he is \ and I 
 His fervant live, and will his vafTal die: 
 He muft not be my brother. 
 
 Cwnt. Nor I your mother ? 
 
 Hel. You are my mother, Madam ; 'would you 
 
 were, 
 
 (So that my lord, your fon, were not my brother) 
 Indeed, my mother ! 8 or were you both our mothers 
 (I can no more fear, than I do fear heav'n,) 
 
 So 
 
 7 A native flip to us from foreign feeds.] The integrity of the 
 metaphor requires we ftould read STEADS, i. e. flocks, ftools, 
 (as they are called by the gardeners,) from whence youne; flips or 
 fuckers are propagated. And it is not unlikely that Sbakefpear 
 might write it fo. 
 
 8 or were you lolb our mothers 
 
 /CARE no more FOR, than I do FOR heaven, 
 So I were not bis /ift er :~\ The fecond line has not the leaft 
 glimmering of fenfe. Helen, by the indulgence and invitation of her 
 jniftrefs, is encouraged to diicover the hidden caufe of her grief; 
 \vhich is the love of her miitrefs's fon; and taking hold of her 
 words, where fhe bids her call lier mother, Ihe unfolds 
 
 the
 
 All's 'welly that Ends well. 23 
 
 So I were not his fifter : can't no other, 
 
 But I your daughter, he muft be my brother? 
 
 Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter- 
 in-law ; 
 
 God fhield, you mean it not, daughter and mother 
 So flrive upon your pulfe! what, pale again ? 
 My fear hath catch'd your fondnefs. Now I fee 
 9 The myftery of your Jonelinefs, and find 
 Your fait tears* head ; now to all fenfe 'tis grofs, 
 You love my fon ; invention is afham'd, 
 Againft the proclamation of thy pafllon, 
 To fay, thou doft not ; therefore tell me true ; 
 But tell me then, 'tis fo. For, look, thy cheeks 
 Confefs it one to th'other ; and thine eyes 
 See it fo grofly fliown in thy behaviour, 
 That in their kind they fpeak it : only fin 
 And hellifli obftinacy tie thy tongue, 
 That truth mould be fufpefted; fpeak, is't fo? 
 If it be fo, you've wound a goodly clew : 
 If it be not, forfwear't ; howe'er, I charge thee, 
 As heav'n mall work in me for thine avail, 
 To tell me truly. 
 
 Hel. Good Madam, pardon me. 
 
 Count. Do you love my fon ? 
 
 Hel. Your pardon, noble miftrefs. 
 
 Count. Love you my fon ? 
 
 Hel. Dtf-not you love him, Madam ? 
 
 Count. Go not about ; my love hath in't a bond, 
 
 the myjlery: and, as (he is difcovering it, emboldens herfelf by this 
 reflexion, in the line in queftioff, as it ought to be read in a paren- 
 thefis, 
 
 (7 CAN no more FEAR, than 1 do TEAR heaven,) 
 i. e. I can no more fear to truft fo indulgent a miftrefs with the 
 fecret than I can fear heav'n who has my vows for its happy iffue. 
 This break, in her difcovery, is exceeding pertinent and fine. 
 Here again the Oxford Editor does his part. 
 
 9 The myjlery of your lovelinefs,] We fhould read lonelinefs, or 
 delight in foiitude, as is the humour of lovers. 
 
 C 4 Whereof
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Whereof the world takes note : come, come, difclofe 
 The ftate of your affection 5 for your paflions 
 Have to the full appeach'd. 
 
 HeL Then, I confefs, 
 
 Here on my knee, before high heav'ns and you, 
 That before you, and next unto high heav'n, 
 I love your fon : 
 
 My friends were poor, but hcnelt ; fo's my love ; 
 Be not offended ; for it hurts not him, 
 That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not 
 By any token of prefumptuous fuit ; 
 Nor would I have him, 'till I do defcrve him ; 
 Yet never know, how that defert lhall be. 
 I know, I love in vain ; ftrive againft hope j 
 Yet, in this captious and intenible fieve, 
 1 dill pour in the waters of my love, 
 And lack not to lofe ftill ; thus, Indian-]'ike y 
 Religious in mine error, I adore 
 The fun that looks upon his worfhipper, 
 But knows of him no more. My deareft Madam > 
 Let not your hate incounter with my love, 
 For loving where you do ; but if yourfdf, 
 Whofe aged honour cites a virtuous youth, 
 Did ever in fo true a flame of liking 
 Wiih chaflly, and love dearly, that your Dian 
 Was both herfelf and love ; O then, give pity 
 To her, whofe ftate is fuch, that cannot chufe 
 But lend, and give, where me is fure to lofe ; 
 That feeks not to find that, which fearch implies ; 
 But, riddle-like, lives fweetly, where ihe dies. 
 
 Count. Had you not lately an intent, fpeak truly, 
 To go to Paris ? 
 
 Hel Madam, I had. 
 
 Count. Wherefore ? tell true. 
 
 HeL I will tell truth ; by Grace itfelf, I (wear. 
 You know, my father left me fome prefcriptions 
 Of rare and prov'd effects ; fuch as his reading 
 
 And
 
 All's 'welly that Ends 'well. 25 
 
 And manifeft experience had collected 
 
 For general fov'reignty ; and that he wilPd me, 
 
 In heedfull'ft refervation to beftow them, 
 
 As notes, whofe faculties inclufive were, 
 
 More than they were in note : amongft the reft, 
 
 There is a remedy, approv'd, fet down, 
 
 To cure the defperate languimings, whereof 
 
 The King is rendered loft. 
 
 Count. This was your motive for Paris, was it, 
 fpeak ? 
 
 Hel. My lord your fon made me to think of this 5 
 Elfe Paris, and the medicine, and the King, 
 Had from the converfation of my thoughts, 
 Haply been abfent then. 
 
 Count. But think you, Helen, 
 If you mould tender your " fuppofed aid, 
 He would receive it ? he and his phyficians 
 Are of a mind j he, that they cannot help him : 
 They, that they cannot help. How mail they credit 
 A poor unlearned virgin, when z the fchools, 
 Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off 
 The danger to itfelf ? 
 
 Hel. 3 There's fomething hints 
 More than my father's skill, (which was the great'ft 
 
 i fuppofed aid,'] fuppofed for propping, fupporting. 
 
 2 the fcbools 
 
 Embowell'd of their doftrine, ] the expreffion is beauti- 
 fully fatirical, and implies, that the theories of the fchcols are 
 fpun out of the bowels of the profeffors, like the cobwebs of the 
 ipider. 
 
 3 There's fomething IN'T 
 
 More than my father's skill 
 
 that his good receipt, &c.] Here is an inference, 
 
 [that~\ without any thing preceeding, to which it refers, which 
 makes the fentence vicious, and fhews that we fhould read, 
 Theris fame thing HINTS 
 
 More than my fathers skill, 
 
 that his good receipt - 
 i> t, I have a fecret premonition or preface. 
 
 Of
 
 26 All's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Of his ProfefTion,) that his good receipt 
 
 Shall for my legacy be fanctified 
 
 By th' Juckieft ftars in heav'n ; and, would your honour 
 
 But give me Jeave to try fuccefs, I'd venture 
 
 The well-loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure, 
 
 By fuch a day and hour. 
 
 Count. Doft thou believ't ? 
 
 Hel. Ay, Madam, knowingly. 
 
 Count. Why, Helen, thou malt have my leave and 
 
 love ; 
 
 Means and attendants ; and my loving greetings 
 To thofe of mine in Court. I'll ftay at home, 
 And pray God's blefiing into thy attempt : 
 Begone, to morrow ; and be fure of this, 
 What I can help thee to, thou malt not mifs. 
 
 \_Exeunt. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 ffie Court of F R A N c E. 
 
 Enter the King, with divers young Lords taking leave 
 
 for the Florentine war. Bertram and Parolles. 
 
 Flourijh Cornets. 
 
 KING. 
 
 FArewel, young Lords : thefe warlike principles 
 Do not throw from you : you, my Lords,' farewel -, 
 Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain, 
 The gift doth ftretch itfelf as 'tis receiv'd, 
 And is enough for both. 
 
 i Lord. 'Tis our hope, Sir, 
 After well-enter'd foldiers, to return 
 And find your Grace in health. 
 
 King.
 
 All's 'well, that Ends well. 
 
 King. No, no, it cannot be ; and yet my heart 
 Will not confefs, it owns the malady 
 That doth my life befiege ; farewel, young Lords ; 
 Whether I live or die, be you the fons 
 Of worthy Frenchmen ; * let higher Italy 
 (Thofe 'bated, that inherit but the Fall 
 Of the laft Monarchy ;) fee, that you come 
 Not to woo honour, but to wed it ; when 
 The -braveft Queftant mrinks, find what you feek, 
 That Fame may cry you loud : I fay, farewel. 
 
 2 Lord. Health at your bidding ferve your Majefty ! 
 
 King. Thofe girls of Italy, take heed of them ; 
 
 They fay, our French lack language to deny, 
 If they demand : beware of being captives, 
 Before you ferve. 
 
 Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. 
 
 King. Farewel. Come hither to me. [To Attendants. 
 
 TExit. 
 
 1 Lord. Oh, my fweet Lord, that you will ftay 
 
 behind us! 
 Par. 'Tis not his fault ; the fpark 
 
 2 Lord. Oh, 'tis brave wars. 
 
 1 let higher Italy 
 
 (Thofe bated, that inherit but the Fall 
 
 Of the lajl Monarchy^ fee, &c.] This is obfcure. Italy, 
 at the time of this fcene, was under three very different tenures. 
 The emperor, as fucceffor of the Roman emperors, had one part; 
 the pope, by a pretended donation from Confiantine, another ; and 
 the third was compos'd of free ftates. Now by the lajl monarchy 
 is meant the Roman, the laft of the four general monarchies. 
 Upon the fall of this monarchy, in the fcramble, feveral cities fet 
 up for themfelves, and became free ftates: now thefe might be 
 faid properly to inherit the fall of the monarchy. This being 
 premifed, let us now confider fenfe. The King fays, higher 
 Italy ; giving it the rank of preference to France ; but he cor- 
 rects himfelf and fays, I except thofe from that precedency, who 
 only inherit the fall of the laft monarchy ; as all the little petty 
 ftates j for inftance, Florence co whom thefe voluntiers were going. 
 As if he had faid, I give the place of honour to the emperor and 
 the pope, but not to tne free ftates. 
 
 Par.
 
 28 All's well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Par. Moft admirable j I have feen thofe wars. 
 
 Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with, 
 fooyoungi and the next year, and 'tis too early.' - 
 
 Par. An thy mind ftand to it, boy, fteal away 
 bravely. 
 
 Ber. Shall I flay here the forehorfe to a fmock, 
 Creeking my fhoes on the plain mafonry, 
 'Till Honour be bought up, and no fword worn 
 But one to dance with ? by heav'n I'll fteal away. 
 
 1 Lord. There's honour in the theft. 
 Par. Commit it, Count. 
 
 2 Lord. I am your accefiary, and fo farewel. 
 Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd 
 
 body. 
 
 1 Lord. Farewel, Captain. 
 
 2 Lord. Sweet Monfieur Parolles ! 
 
 Par. Noble heroes, my fword and yours are kin ; 
 good fparks and luftrous. A word, good metals. You 
 fhall find in the regiment of the Spinii^ one captain 
 Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on 
 his finifter cheek; it was this very fword entrench'd 
 it; fay to him, I live, and obferve his reports of 
 me. 
 
 2 Lord. We fhall, noble captain. 
 
 Par. Mars doat on you for his novices ! what will 
 ye do? 
 
 Ber. Stay ; the King \_Exeunt Lords. 
 
 Par. Ufe a more fpacious ceremony to the noble 
 Lords, you have reftrain'd yourfelf within the lift of 
 too cold an adieu ; be more expreflive to them, for 
 * they wear themfelves in the cap of the time, there, 
 to mufter true gate, eat, fpeak, and move under the 
 
 influence 
 
 2 they ivcar tbemfefaet in the cap of tke time, there., DO mufter 
 true gate, &c.] The main obfcurityof this pafiage arifes from the 
 miitake of a fingle letter. We fhould read, inflead of, do tnujler, 
 
 T o mufler. To ivear themfefaes in the cap of the time, fignifies 
 
 to be the foremoft in the fafhion : the figurative allufion is to the 
 
 galanrry
 
 All's we!!, that Ends 'well. 29 
 
 influence of the moft receiv'd flar , and tho* the 
 devil lead the meafure, fuch are to be follow'd : after 
 them, and take a more dilated farewel. 
 
 Ber. And I will do fo. 
 
 Par. Worthy fellows, and like to prove moft fi- 
 nevvy fword-men. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter the King^ and Lafeu. 
 
 Laf. Pardon, my Lord, for me and for my tidings. 
 
 King. I'll fee thee to ftand up. 
 
 Laf. Then here's a man Hands, that hath bought 
 
 his pardon. 
 
 I would, you had kneePd, my Lord, to ask me mercy 5 
 And that at my bidding you could fo ftand up. 
 
 King. I would, I had ; fo I had broke thy pate, 
 And ask'd thee mercy for't. 
 
 Laf. Good faith, acrofs: -but, my good Lord, 
 
 'tis thus ; 
 Will you be cur'd of your infirmity ? 
 
 King. No. 
 
 Laf. O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? 
 Yes, but you will, an if 
 My royal fox could reach them : I have feen a me- 
 
 dicine^ 
 
 That's able to breathe life into a ftonej 
 Quicken a rock, and make you dance Canary 
 With fprightly fire and motion ; whofe fimpie touch 
 Is powerful to araife King Pcpin, nay, 
 To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, 
 And write to her a love-line. 
 
 King. What her is this ? 
 
 galantry then in vogue, of wearing jewels, flowers, and their 
 
 miftrefs's favours in their caps. there to mufter true gate, fig- 
 
 nifies to aflemble tegether in the high road of the fafhion. All 
 the reft is intelligible and eafy. 
 
 Laf.
 
 30 Alfs well, float Ends well. 
 
 Laf. Why, doctor-me: my Lord, there's one ar- 
 
 riv'd, 
 
 If you will fee her. Now, by my faith and honour, 
 If ferioufly I may convey my thoughts 
 In this my light deliverance, I have fpoke 
 With one, that in her fex, 3 her years, profeflion, 
 Wifdom and conftancy, hath amaz'd me more 
 Than I dare blame my weaknefs : will you fee her, 
 For that is her Demand, and know her bufmefs ? 
 That done, laugh well at me. 
 
 King. Now, good Laftu, 
 Bring in the admiration, that we with thee 
 May fpend our wonder too, or take off thine, 
 By wond'ring how thou took'fl: it. 
 
 Laf. Nay, I'll fit you, 
 And not be all day neither. [Exit La feu. 
 
 King. Thus he his fpecial nothing ever prologues. 
 
 Laf. [Returns.] Nay, corae your ways. 
 
 [Bringing in Helena. 
 
 King. This hade hath wings, indeed. 
 
 Laf. Nay, come your ways, 
 This is his Majefty, fay your mind to him ; 
 A traitor you do look like ; but fuch traitors 
 His Majefty feldom fears ; I'm Crejfid's uncle, 
 That dare leave two together; fare you well. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 King. Now, fair One, do's your bufmefs follow us ? 
 
 Hel. Ay, my good Lord. 
 Gerard de Narbon was my father, 
 In what he did profefs, well found. 
 
 King. I knew him. 
 
 Hel. The rather will I fpare my praife toward him ; 
 Knowing him, is enough : on's bed of death 
 
 3 her years, profeffion ,] By profejfion is meant her declaration 
 of the end and purpofe of her coming. 
 
 Many
 
 All's well, that Ends well 
 
 Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one, 
 Which as the deareft iffue of his practice, 
 And of his old experience th'only darling, 
 He bade me ftore up, as a triple eye, 
 Safer than mine own two : more dear I have fo ; 
 And hearing your high Majefty is touch'd 
 With that malignant caufe, wherein the honour 
 Of my dear father's gift ftands chief in power, 
 I come to tender it, and my appliance, 
 With all bound humblenefs. 
 
 King. We thank you, maiden ; 
 But may not be fo credulous of cure, 
 When our mofl learned doctors leave us ; and 
 The congregated college have concluded, 
 That labouring art can never ranfom nature 
 From her unaidable eftate: we muft not 
 So (lain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, 
 To proftitute our paft-cure malady 
 To empericks ; or to diffever fo 
 Our great felf and our credit, to efteem 
 A fenfelefs help, when help pail fenfe we deem. 
 
 Hel. My duty then fhall pay me for my pains ; 
 I will no more enforce mine office on you ; 
 Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts 
 A modeft one to bear me back again. 
 
 King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful ; 
 Thou thought'ft to help me, and fuch thanks I give, 
 As one near death to thofe that wifh him live 5 
 But what at full I know, thou know'ft no part ; 
 I knowing all my peril, thou no art. 
 
 Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, 
 Since you fet up your reft 'gainfl remedy. 
 He that of greateft works is finiiher, 
 Oft does them by the weakeft minifter: 
 So holy writ in babes hath judgment mown, 
 When judges have been babes; great floods have 
 flown 
 
 From
 
 32 dll's well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 From fimple fources ; and great feas have dry'd, 
 When mir'cles have by th 1 greateft been deny'd. 
 Oft expectation fails, and mod oft there 
 Where mod it promifes : and oft it hits 
 Where hope is coldeft, and defpair moft fits. 
 
 King. I mud not hear thee ; fare thee well, kind 
 
 Maid ; 
 
 Thy pains, not us'd, muft by thyfelf be paid : 
 Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward. 
 
 Hel. Infpired merit fo by breath is barr'd : 
 It is not fo with him that all things knows, 
 As 'tis with us, that fquare our guefs by fhows : 
 But moft it is prefumption in us, when 
 The help of heav'n we count the ad: of men. 
 Dear Sir, to my endeavours give confent, 
 Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment. 
 I am not an impoflor, that proclaim 
 4 Myfelf againft the level of mine aim ; 
 But know I think, and think I know moft fure, 
 My art is not paft power, nor you paft cure. 
 
 King. Art thou fo confident? within what fpace 
 Hop'ft thou my cure ? 
 
 Hel. The greateft grace lending grace, 
 Ere twice the horfes of the fun ihall bring 
 Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring ; 
 Ere twice in murk and occidental damp 
 Moift Hefperus hath quench'd his fleepy lamp ; 
 Or four and twenty times the pilot's glafs 
 Hath told the thievifh minutes how they pafs ; 
 What is infirm from your found parts mail fly, 
 Health mail live free, and ficknefs freely die. 
 
 King. Upon thy certainty and confidence. 
 What dar'ft thou venture? 
 
 Hel. Tax of impudence, 
 
 4 Myfelf 'again/1 the hvel of mine aim ;1 *'. e. pretend to greater 
 things than befits the mediocrity of my condition. 
 
 A
 
 All's well, tlat Ends well 33 
 
 A ftrumpet's boldnefs, a divulged fhame 
 Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name 
 Sear'd otherwife, no worfe of worft extended j 
 With vileft torture let my life be ended. 
 
 King. s Methinks, in thee ibme bleffed Spirit doth 
 
 {peak : 
 
 His power full founds within an organ weak i 
 And what impofiibility would flay 
 In common fenfe, fenfe faves another way. 
 Thy life is dear ; for all that life can rate 
 Worth name of life, in thee hath eftimate: 
 6 Youth, beauty, wifdom, courage, virtue, all 
 That happinefs and prime can happy call ; 
 Thou this to hazard, needs muft intimate 
 Skill infinite, or monftrous defperate. 
 Sweet Praclifer, thy phyfick 1 will try* 
 That minifters thine own death, if I die. 
 
 Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property 
 Of what I fpoke, unpitied let me die, 
 And well deferv'd ! Not helping* death's my fee 5 
 But if I help, what do you promife me ? 
 
 5 Me thinks, in thee fame bleJJ'ed fpirit doth fpeak 
 
 His powerful found, within an organ weak;"] fpeak a 
 found is a barbarifm : For to fpeak fignifies to utter an articulatt 
 iound, i. e. a voice. So Shakejpear, in Lories Labour Lojl, fays 
 with propriety, And when love fpeaks the voice of all the Gods. 
 To fpeak a found therefore is improper, tho' to utter a found is not ; 
 becauie the word utter may be applied either to an articulate or inar- 
 ticulate. Befides, the conftruftion is vicious with the two ablatives, 
 in thee, and, within an organ tweak. The lines therefore fhould be 
 thus read and pointed, 
 
 Methittki, in tkee fame bhjfed fpirit doth fpeak : 
 
 ffts poiver full founds within an organ weak . 
 But the Oxford Editor would be only fo far beholden to this emen* 
 dation, as to enable him to make fenfe of the lines another way, 
 whatever become of the n^es of criticifm or ingenuous dealing. 
 
 It powerful founds within an organ weak. 
 
 6 Youth, Beauty, wifdum, courage, all'} The verfe wants a foot* 
 VIRTUE, by mifchance, has dropt out ot the line. 
 
 VOL. Ill, D
 
 34 All's 'well, that Ends 
 
 King. 7 Make thy demand. 
 
 //<?/, But will you make it even ? 
 
 King. Ay, by my fcepter, and my hopes of heaven. 
 
 He/. Then fhalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand, 
 What Husband in thy power I will command. 
 Exempted be from me the arrogance 
 To chufe from forth the royal blood of France ; 
 My low and humble name to propagate 
 * With any branch or impage of thy (late : 
 But fuch a one thy vafial, whom I know 
 Is free for me to ask, thee to beflow. 
 
 King. Here is my hand, the premifes obferv'd, 
 Thy will by my performance mail be ferv'd : 
 So, make the choice of thine own time ; for I, 
 Thy refolv'd Patient, on thee ftill rely. 
 More mould I queftion thee, and more I muft; 
 (Tho* more to know, could not be more to truft :) 
 From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on, but reft 
 Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted bleft. 
 Give me fome help here, hoa ! if thou proceed 
 As high as word, my deed lhall match thy deed. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 7 King. Make thy demand. 
 
 Hel. Butivil/you make it even? 
 
 King. Ay, by my fcepter and my hopes of help.] The King 
 could have but a very flight hope of help from her, fcarce enough 
 to fwear by: and therefore Helen might fufpeft he meant to 
 equivocate with her. Befides, obferve, the greateft part of thr 
 fcene is ftriftly in rhyme, and there is no fhadow of reafon why 
 it fhould be interrupted here. I rather imagine the poet wrote, 
 
 jty t by my fcepter, and my hopes of heaven. Dr. Tbirlby. 
 
 8 With any branch er IMAGE of thy ft ate :\ Shakefpsar un- 
 queftionably wrote IMP ACE, grafting. IMPE a graff, or flip, 
 or fucker: by which {he means one of the fons of Franct. So 
 C ax ton calls our Prince Arthur, that noble IMPE offamt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 'welly that Ends 'well, 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Changes to Roufillon. 
 
 Enter Countefs and Clown. 
 
 Count. f~*- O M E on, Sir ; J fhall now put you Co 
 
 V_J the height of your breeding, 
 
 Clo. I will mew myfelf highly fed, and lowly 
 taught j I know, my bufmefs is but to the court. 
 
 Count. But to the court? why, what place make 
 you fpecial, when you put off that with fuch con- 
 tempt ; but to the court! 
 
 Clo. Truly, Madam, if God have lent a man 
 any manners, he may eafily put it off at court : he 
 that cannot make a leg, put orFs cap, kifs his hand, 
 and fay nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap ; 
 and, indeed, fuch a fellow, to fay precifely, were not 
 for the court : but for me, I have an anfwer will ferve 
 all men. 
 
 Count. Marry, that's a bountiful anfwer that fits 
 aJl queftions. 
 
 Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks ; 
 the pin-buttock, the quatch- buttock, the brawn- 
 buttock, or any buttock. 
 
 Count. Will your anfwer ferve fit to all queftions? 
 
 Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attor- 
 ney, as your French crown for your taffaty punk, as 
 T^'s rum for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for 
 Shrove-Tuefday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to 
 his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a fcolding quean 
 to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's 
 mouth ; nay, as the pudding to his skin. 
 
 Count. Have you, I fay, an anfwer of fuch fitneis 
 for all queftions? 
 
 Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your 
 conftable, it will fit any queftion. 
 
 D 2 Count.
 
 36 All's well, that Ends well 
 
 Count. It muft be an anfwer of moft monftrous fize, 
 that muft fit all demands. 
 
 Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned 
 fhould fpeak truth of it : here it is, and all that be- 
 longs to't. Ask me, if I am a courtier j it fhall 
 
 do you no harm to learn. 
 
 Count. To be young again, if we could : I will 
 be a fool in a queftion, hoping to be the wifer by 
 your anfwer. I pray you, Sir, are you a courtier ? 
 
 Clo. 9 lord, Sir < there's a fimplc putting off: 
 
 more, more, a hundred of them. 
 
 Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves 
 you. 
 
 Clo. O lord, Sir thick, thick, fpare not me. 
 
 Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely 
 meat. 
 
 Clo. lord, Sir- -nay, put me to't, I warrant 
 you. 
 
 Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think. 
 
 Clo. O lord, Sir fpare not me. 
 
 Count. Do you cry, O lord, Sir, at your whipping, 
 and fpare not me ? indeed, your O lord, Sir, is very 
 fequent to your whipping: you would anfwer very 
 well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. 
 
 Clo. I ne'er had worfe luck in my life, in my O 
 lord, Sir ; I fee, things may ferve long, but not ferve 
 ever. 
 
 Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to 
 entertain it fo merrily with a fool. 
 
 Clo. O lord. Sir why, there't ferves well again. 
 
 Count. An end, Sir ; to your bufinefs : give Helen this, 
 And urge her to a prefent anfwer back. 
 Commend me to my kinfmen, and my fon : 
 This is not much. 
 
 9 O lord, Sir, ] A ridicule on that foolilh expletive of fpeech 
 then in vogue at court. 
 
 Clo.
 
 AlTs well, that Ends 'well. 37 
 
 Go. Not much commendation to them ? 
 Count. Not much imployment for you, you un- 
 derftand me. 
 
 Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs. 
 Count. Hafte you again. [Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Changes to the Court of France. 
 
 Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. 
 
 Laf. Tp HEY fay, miracles are paftj and we have 
 A our philofophical perfons to make modern, 
 and familiar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence 
 is it, that we make trifles of terrors ; enfconfing our 
 felves into feeming knowledge, when we fhould fub- 
 mit our felves to an ' unknown fear. 
 
 Par. Why, 'tis the rareft argument of wonder 
 that hath (hot out in our later times. 
 
 Bcr. And fo 'tis. 
 
 Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the artifts 
 
 * Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracetfus. 
 
 Laf. Of all the learned and authentick Fellows ~ 
 
 Par. Right, fo I fay. 
 
 Laf. That gave him out incurable, 
 
 Par. Why, there 'tis, fo fay I too. 
 
 Laf. 
 
 1 unknown fear.] Unknown for fupernatural. 
 
 2 Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelfut. 
 
 Laf. Of all the learned and authentick fellanus. ] Sbale- 
 fpear, as I have often obferved, never throws out his words at 
 random. Paracelfus, tho' no better than an ignorant and knavifh 
 enthufiaft was at this time in fuch vogue, even amongft the learned, 
 that lie had almoft juftled Galen and the ancients out of credit. 
 On this account learned is applied to Galen ; and authentick or 
 fafhionable to Paracelfus. Sancy, in his ConfeJJlon Catholique, 
 p. 301. Ed. Col. 1720, is made to fay, Je trouve la Riviere pre- 
 mier Medtcin, dt mtilleure bumeur que ces vens-la. 11 eft ban Ga- 
 D 3 leniftc, 
 
 /: <o 
 
 /wo <r L SL.
 
 3 8 4ll's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Laf. Not to be help'd, 
 
 Par. Right, as 'twere a man affur'd of an * 
 
 af. Uncertain life, and fure death, 
 
 Par. Juft, you fay well : fo would I have faid. 
 
 Laf. I may truly fay, it is a novelty to the world. 
 
 Par. It is, indeed, if you will have it in mewing, 
 you (hall read it in, what do you call there 
 
 Laf. * A Jhewing of a heav'nly effeft in an earthly 
 effor. 
 
 Par. That's it, I would have faid the very fame. 
 
 Laf. Why, your dolphin is not luftier : for me, I 
 {peak in refpect 
 
 Par. Nay, 'tis ftrange, 'tis very ftrange, that is 
 the brief and the tedious of it ; and he's of a moft fa- 
 cinerious fpirit, that will not acknowledge it to be 
 the 
 
 Laf. Very hand of heav'n. 
 
 Par. Ay, fo I fay. 
 
 Laf. In a mod weak 
 
 Par. And debile minifter, great power, great tran- 
 fcendence; 4 which mould, indeed, give us * * * a 
 farther ufe to be made than alone the recov'ry ^of the 
 King j as to be 
 
 Laf. Generally thankful. 
 
 lenifte, fcf tres Ion Paracelfifte. // dit que !a doBrine de Galien 
 eft honorable, & non mefprifable pour la patbologie, & profitable 
 four les Boutiques. Uautre, pour-veit qtie ce foil de niraii preceptes 
 dt Paracelfe, eft bonne a fuivre pour la verite, pour la lubtilite, 
 pour Tefpargnej en fomme pour la Therapeutique. 
 
 3 AJbewing of a keav'nty ejfefi, &:c.] The title of fome pam- 
 phlet here ridiculed. 
 
 4 nvbtib Jhould, indeed, give us a farther vfe !o be made, &c. J 
 Between the words us and a farther, there feems to have been 
 two or three words dropt, which appear to have been to this 
 purpofe Jhould, indeed, give us [notice, that there is of this,] a 
 farther ufe to be made fo that the pafiage fhould be read with 
 
 afterisks for the future. 
 
 SCENE
 
 All's well, flat Ends well .39 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter King, Helena, and Attendants. 
 
 Par. I would have faid it, you faid well: here 
 comes the King. 
 
 Laf. Luftick, as the Dutchman fays: I'll like a 
 Maid the better, while I have a tooth in my head : 
 why, he's able to lead her a Corranto. 
 
 Par. Mort du Vinaigre ! is not this Helen ? 
 
 Laf. 'Fore God, I think fo. 
 
 King. Go, call before me all the Lords in court. 
 Sit, my preferver, by thy patient's fide; 
 And with this healthful hand, whofe banifh'd fenfe 
 Thou haft repealed, a fecond time receive 
 The confirmation of my promised gift ; 
 Which but attends thy naming. 
 
 Enter three or four Lords. 
 
 Fair maid, fend forth thine eye ; this youthful parcel 
 
 Of noble batchelors ftand at my beftowing, 
 
 O*er whom both fov'reign power and father's voice 
 
 I have to ufe ; thy frank election make ; 
 
 Thou haft power to chufe, and they none to forfake. 
 
 Hel. To each of you one fair and virtuous miftrefs 
 Fall, when love pleafe! marry, to each but one. 
 
 Laf. I'd give bay curtal and his furniture, 
 My mouth no more were broken than thefe boys, 
 And writ as little beard. 
 
 King. Perufe them well : 
 Not one of thofe, but had a noble father. 
 
 [She addrejfis herfelf to a Lord. 
 
 Hel. Gentlemen, heaven hath, through me, reftor'd 
 The King to health. 
 
 dll. We underftand it, and thank heaven for you. 
 
 Hel. I am a fimple maid, and therein wealthieft, 
 
 That, I proteft, I limply am a maid. - 
 
 D 4 Pleafe
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Pleafe it your Majefty, I have done already : 
 The blufhes in my cheeks thus whifper me, 
 We blufh that thou fhould'ft chuie, but be refus'd j 
 J Let the white death fit on thy cheek for ever, 
 We'll ne'er come there again. 
 
 King. Make choice, and fee, 
 Who fhuns thy love, fhuns all his love in me. 
 
 Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, 
 * And to impartial Love, that God moft high, 
 Do my fighs ftream: Sir, will you hear my fuit? 
 
 j Lord. And grant it. 
 
 Hel. Thanks, Sir -, all the reft is mute. 
 
 Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw 
 ames-ace for my life. 
 
 Hel The honour, Sir, that flames in your fair eyes., 
 Before I fpeak, too threatningly replies: 
 Love make your fortunes twenty times above 
 Her that fo wifhes, and her humble love ! 
 
 2 Lord. No better, if you pleafe. 
 
 Htl* My wim receive, 
 Which great Love grant ! and fo I take my leave. 
 
 Laf. Do all they deny her? if they were fons of 
 mine, I'd have them whipt, or I would fend them 
 to the Turk to make eunuchs of. 
 
 Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand fliould take, 
 I'll never do you wrong for your own fake : 
 Blefiing upon your vows, and in your bed 
 Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed ! 
 
 Laf. Thefe boys are boys of ice, they'll none of 
 her : fure, they are baftards to the Englift> 9 the French 
 De'er got *em. 
 
 5 Let the luh'ite DEATH^V on thy cheek for ever,] Shakefpear, 
 I think, wrote DEARTH; /. e. want of blood, or more figura- 
 tively barrennefs, want of fruit or iflue. 
 
 6 dnd to IMPERIAL Love,] The old editions read IMPAR- 
 TIAL, which is right. Love who has no regard to difference of 
 condition, but yokes together high and low, which was her cafe. 
 
 lid.
 
 All's well, that Ends 'well. 41 
 
 Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, 
 To make yourfelf a fon out of my blood. 
 
 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not fo. 
 
 7 Laf. There's one grape yet, 
 
 Par. I am fure, thy father drunk wine.' 
 
 Laf. But if thou be'eft not an afs, I am a 
 Youth of fourteen. J have known thee already. 
 
 Hel. I dare not fay, I take you ; but I give 
 Me and my fervice, ever whilft I live, 
 Into your guided power : this is the man. 
 
 [fo Bertram. 
 
 King. Why then ; young Bertram^ take her, fhe's 
 thy wife. 
 
 Ber. My wife, my Liege ? I mall befeech your 
 
 Highnefs, 
 
 In fuch a bufinefs give me leave to ufe 
 The help of mine own eyes. 
 
 King. Know'ft thou not, Bertram* 
 What fhe hath done for me? 
 
 Ber. Yes, my good Lord, 
 But never hope to know why I mould marry her. 
 
 King. Thou know'ft, fhe has rais'd me from my 
 fickly bed. 
 
 Ber. But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down 
 Muft anfwer for your raifing ? I know her well : 
 She had her breeding at my father's charge : 
 A poor phyfician's daughter my wife! Difdain 
 Rather corrupt me ever! 
 
 King. 'Tis only title thou difdain'ft in her, the which 
 I can build up : ftrange is it, that our bloods, 
 Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, 
 Would quite confound diftinclion, yet ftand off 
 In differences, fo mighty. If {he be 
 All that is virtuous (fave what thou diflik'fl 
 A poor phyfician's daughter,) thou diflik'ft 
 
 7 Tber is one grape yet, ] I have here regulated the fpeeches 
 
 as they ought to be. 
 
 Of
 
 42 All's well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Of virtue for the name: but do not fo. 
 
 From loweft place (a} when virtuous things proeeed> 
 
 The place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed. 
 
 Where great addition fwells, and virtue none, 
 
 1 1 is a dropfied honour ; 8 good alone 
 
 Is good ; and, with a name, vilenefs is fo : 
 
 The property by what it is fhould go, 
 
 Not by the title. 9 She is good, wile, fair ; 
 
 In thefe, to nature fhe's immediate heir ; 
 
 And thefe breed honour : That is honour's fcorn, 
 
 Which challenges itfelf as honour's born, 
 
 And 
 
 It good without a name. Vilenefs is fo :J The text is here 
 corrupted into nonfenfe. We fhould read 
 
 Is good ; and, with a name, vilenefs is fo. 
 
 i. e. good is good, tho' there be no addition of title; and vilenefs 
 is vilenefs, tho' there be. The Oxford Editor, underflanding no- 
 thing of this, ftrikes out vilenefs and puts in its place, intfelf. 
 q ___~. She is YOUNG, wife, fair ; 
 
 In thefe, to nature Jhe*s immediate heir ; 
 
 jind thefe breed honour -, ] The objeftion was, that Helen 
 
 had neither riches nor title : To this the King replies, fhe's the 
 immediate heir of nature, from whom fhe inherits youth, wifdom, 
 and beauty. The thought is fine. For by the immediate heir to 
 nature, we muft underftand one who inherits wifdom and beauty 
 in a fupreme degree. From hence it appears that young is a faulty 
 reading, for that does not, like wifdom and beauty, admit of dif- 
 ferent degrees of excellence ; therefore fhe could not, with regard 
 to that, be faid to be the immediate heir of nature; for in that fhe 
 was only joint-heir with all the reft of her fpecies. Befides, tho* 
 uiifdom and beauty may breed honour, yet youth cannot be faid to 
 do fo. On the contrary, it is age which has this advantage. It 
 feems probable that fome foolifh player when he tranfcribed this 
 part, not apprehending the thought, and wondring to find youth 
 not reckoned amongft the good qualities of a woman when fhe 
 xvas propofed to a lord, and not confidering that it was comprifed 
 in the word fair, foifted in young, to the exclufion of a word much 
 more to the purpofe. For I make no queilion but Sbakefpear 
 wrote, 
 
 She is GOOD, wife, fair. 
 
 For 
 [ ( a ] nvben, Dr. Thirlby vulg. whence."}
 
 All's well, that Ends 'well. 43 
 
 And is not like the fire. Honours beft thrive, 
 
 When rather from our a6ts we them derive 
 
 Than our fore-goers : the mere word's a flave 
 
 Debaucht on every tomb, on ev'ry grave 5 
 
 A lying trophy ; * and as oft is dumb, 
 
 Where duft and damn'd oblivion is the tomb 
 
 Of honour'd bones, indeed. What mould be faid ? 
 
 If thou can'ft like this creature as a maid, 
 
 I can create the reft : virtue and me, 
 
 Is her own dow'r ; honour and wealth from me. 
 
 Ber. I cannot love her, nor will drive to do't. 
 
 King. Thou wrong'ft thyfelf, if thou fhould'ft ftrive 
 to chufe. 
 
 Hel. That you are well reftor'd, my lord, I'm glad : 
 Let the reft go. 
 
 King. My honour's at the flake; which to (a} defend, 
 I muft produce my power. Here, take her hand, 
 Proud fcornful boy, unworthy this good gift ! 
 That doth in vile mifprifion fhackle up 
 My love, and her defert ; that canft not dream, 
 We, poizing us in her defective fcale, 
 Shall weigh thee to the beam ; that wilt not know, 
 It is in us to plant thine honour, where 
 We pleafe to have it grow. Check thy contempt : 
 Obey our will, which travels in thy good ; 
 
 For the greateft part of her encomium turned upon her virtue. To 
 omit this therefore in the recapitulation of her qualities, had been 
 againil all the rules of good fpeaking. Nor let it be objefted that 
 this is requiring an exaftnefs in our author which we fliould not 
 expeft. For he who could reafon with the force our author doth 
 here, (and we ought always to diftinguifh between Shake/pear on 
 his guard and in his rambles) and illuftrate that reafoning with 
 fuch beauty of thought and propriety of expreffion, could never 
 make ufe of a word which quite deftroyed the exa&nefs of his 
 reafoning, the propriety of his thought, and the elegance of his 
 expreffion. 
 
 i Commas and points here fet exaftly right by Mr. Theobald. 
 
 [ ( fl ) dtftnd t Mr. Theobald vulg. defeat.'} 
 
 Believe
 
 44 All's 'well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Believe not thy difdain, but prefently 
 
 Do thine own fortunes that obedient right, 
 
 Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims ; 
 
 Or I wiJJ throw thee from my care for ever 
 
 Into the daggers, and the carelefs lapfe 
 
 Of youth and ignorance 5 my revenge and hate 
 
 Looting upon thee in the name of juftice, 
 
 Without all terms of pity. Speak, thine anfwer. 
 
 Ber. Pardon, my gracious Lord ; for I fubmit 
 My fancy to your eyes. When I confider, 
 What great creation, and what dole of honour 
 Flies where you bid ; I find, that me, which late 
 Was in my nobler thoughts mod bafe, is now 
 * The prifed of the King ; who, fo enobled, 
 Is, as 'twere, born fo. 
 
 King. Take her by the hand, 
 And tell her, me is thine: to whom I promife 
 A counterpoize -, if not in thy eftate, 
 A balance more repleat. 
 
 Ber. I take her hand. 
 
 King. Good fortune and the favour of the King 
 Smile upon this contract} whofe ceremony 
 Shall feem expedient on the new-born brief, 
 And be perform'd to night ; the folemn feaft 
 Shall more attend upon the coming fpace, 
 Expecting abfent friends. As thou lov'ft her, 
 Thy love's to me religious; elfe does err. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Manent Parolles and Lafeu. 
 
 Laf. Do you hear, Monfieur? a word with you. 
 Par. Your pleafure, Sir ? 
 
 2 The PRAISED of the King;"] We (hould read PRISED, /'. e. 
 valued, held in eftimation, and anfwers to mojl bafe in the preceding 
 line. 
 
 Laf.
 
 All's wtll> that Ends well. 45 
 
 Laf. Your Lord and Matter did well to make his 
 recantation. 
 
 Par. Recantation ? my Lord ? my Matter ? 
 
 Laf. Ay, is it not a language I fpeak ? 
 
 Par. A moft harfh one, and not to be underftood 
 without bloody fucceeding. My matter? 
 
 Laf. Are you companion to the Count Roufillon ? 
 
 Par. To any Count j to all Counts -, to what is 
 man. 
 
 Laf. To what is Count's man ; Count's matter is 
 of another ftile. 
 
 Par. You are too old, Sir; let it fatisfie you, you 
 are too old - 
 
 Laf. I mutt tell thee, Sirrah, I write man ; to 
 which title age cannot bring thee. 
 
 Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do. 
 
 Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a 
 pretty wife fellow ; thou didft make tolerable vent of 
 thy travel ; it might pafs ; yet the fcarfs and the ban- 
 nerets about thee did manifoldly difiuade me from be- 
 Jieving thee a veflel of too great a burthen. I have 
 now found thee ; when I lofe thee again, I care not : 
 yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that 
 thou'rt fcarce worth. 
 
 Par. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon 
 thee 
 
 Laf. Do not plunge thyfelf too far in anger, left 
 thou haften thy tryal ; which if, Lord have 
 
 mercy on thee for a hen! fo, my good window of 
 lattice, fare thee well ; thy cafement I need not open, 
 I look thro* thee. Give me thy hand. 
 
 Par. My Lord, you give me moft egregious in- 
 dignity. 
 
 Laf. Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy 
 of it. 
 
 Par. \ have not, my Lord, dcfcrv'd it. 
 
 /.
 
 46 All's well, that Ends 
 
 Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it ; and I will 
 not bate thee a fcruple. 
 
 Par. Well, I mall be wifer 
 
 Laf. Ev'n as foon as thou can'ft, for thou haft to 
 pull at a fmack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beeft 
 bound in thy fcarf and beaten, thou lhalt find what 
 it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a defire to 
 hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my know- 
 ledge, that I may fay in the default, he is a man I 
 know. 
 
 Par. My Lord, you do me moft infupportable 
 vexation. 
 
 Laf. I would, it were hell-pains for thy fake, and 
 my poor doing eternal : 3 for doing, I am paft ; * * * 
 as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me 
 leave. [Exit. 
 
 Par. + Well, thou haft a fon mall take this di 
 grace off me ; fcurvy, old, filthy, fcurvy Lord ! 
 well, I muft be patient, there is no fettering of au- 
 thority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him 
 with any convenience, an he were double and double 
 a Lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I 
 would have of -I'll beat him, an if I could but 
 meet him again. 
 
 3 for doing I am fafl ; as I laill ly thee, in what motion age 
 will give me leave.] Here is a line loft after paft ; fo that i: Ihpuid 
 be diitinguifhed by a break with afterisks. The very words of 
 the loft line it is impoflible to retrieve ; but the fenfe is obvious 
 enough. For doing I am pajt ; age has deprived me of much of 
 my force and vigour, yet I have ftill enough to mew the world I 
 can do rnyfelf right, as I nvill by thee, in -ivhat motion [or in the 
 beft manner] age ivill give me leave. 
 
 4 Well, thou haft a fonjhall take this dlfgrace off me;] This the 
 poet makes Parolles fpeak alone; and this is nature. A coward 
 would try to hide his poltroonry even from himfelf. An ordi- 
 nary writer would have been glad of fuch an opportunity to bring 
 him to confeflioa. 
 
 R*-
 
 All's 'well) that Ends well. 47 
 
 Re-enter Lafeu. 
 
 Laf. Sirrah, your Lord and Matter's married, there's 
 news for you : you have a new miftrefs. 
 
 Par. I moft unfeignedly befeech your Lordfhip to 
 make fome refervation of your wrongs. He, my 
 good Lord, whom I ferve above, is my mafter. 
 
 Laf. Who? God? 
 
 Par. Ay, Sir. 
 
 Laf. The devil it is, that's thy mafter. Why doft 
 thou garter up thy arms o' this fafhion ? doft make 
 hofe of thy fleeves ? do other fervants fo ? thou were 
 beft fet thy lower part where thy nofe (lands. By 
 mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd 
 beat thee : methinks thou art a general offence, and 
 every man mould beat thee. I think, thou waft created 
 for men to breathe themfelves upon thee. 
 
 Par. This is hard and undeferved meafure, my 
 Lord. 
 
 Laf. Go to, Sir ; you were beaten in Italy for pick- 
 ing a kernel out of a pomegranate ; you are a vaga- 
 bond, and no true traveller : you are more fawcy with 
 lords and honourable perfonages, than the heraldry of 
 your birth and virtue gives you commifiion. You are not 
 worth another word, elfe I'd call you knave. I leave 
 you. [&>. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Enter Bertram. 
 
 Par. Good, very good, it is fo then. Good, very 
 good, let it be conceal'd a while. 
 
 Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! 
 
 Par. What is the matter, fweet heart ? 
 
 Ber. Although before the folemn Prieft I'vefworn, 
 I will not bed her. 
 
 Par. What? what, fweet heart?
 
 48 All's 'well, tiat Ends 
 
 Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me : 
 I'll to the I'ufcan wars, and never bed her. 
 
 Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits 
 the tread of a man's foot : to th f wars. 
 
 Ber. There's letters from my mother} what the 
 import is, I know not yet. 
 
 Par. Ay, that would be known : to th' wars, my 
 boy, to th' wars. 
 
 He wears his honour in a box, unfeen, 
 That hugs his kickfy-wickfy here at home ; 
 Spending his manly marrow in her arms, 
 Which fhould fuftain the bound and high curvet 
 Of Mars's fiery fteed : to other regions 
 France is a ft able, we that dwell in't jades, 
 Therefore to th' war. 
 
 Ber. It mail be fb, I'll fend her to my houfe, 
 Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, 
 And wherefore I am fled ; write to the King 
 That which I durft not fpeak. His prefent gift 
 Shall furnifh me to thofe Italian fields, 
 Where noble fellows ftrike. War is no ft rife 
 To the dark houfe, and the detefted wife. 
 
 Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art fure? 
 
 Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advife me; 
 I'll fend her ftraight away : to-morrow 
 I'll to the wars, fhe to her fingle forrow. 
 
 Par. Why, thefe balls bound, there's noife in it. 
 
 'Tis hard ; 
 
 A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd : 
 Therefore away, and leave her bravely ; go, 
 The King hath done you wrong : but, hum ! 'tis fo. 
 
 [Extant. 
 
 SCENE
 
 All's well, that Ends ^ell 49 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Helena and Clown. 
 
 Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is me well? 
 
 Clo. She is not well, but yet me has her health 5 
 (he's very merry, but yet fhe is not well : but, thanks 
 be given, flic's very well, and wants nothing i'th* world 5 
 but yet fhe is not well. 
 
 Hel. If me be very well, what does me ail, that 
 fhe's not very well ? 
 
 Clo. Truly, (he's very well, indeed, but for two 
 things. 
 
 Hel. What two things ? 
 
 Clo. One, that (he's not in heav'n, whither God 
 lend her quickly ; the other, that Ihe's in earth, from 
 whence God fend her quickly! 
 
 Enter Parolles. 
 
 Par. Blefs you, my fortunate lady ! 
 
 Hel. I hope, Sir, I have your good will to have 
 mine own good fortune. 
 
 Par. You had my prayers to lead them on ; and to 
 keep them on, have them (till. O, my knave, how 
 does my old lady ? 
 
 Clo. So that you had her wrinkles and I her mony, 
 I would, (he did, as you fay. 
 
 Par. Why, I fay nothing. 
 
 Clo. Marry, you are the wifer man j for many a 
 man's tongue * (peaks out his matter's undoing : to 
 fay nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to 
 have nothing, is to be a great part of your title ; which 
 is within a very little of nothing. 
 
 Par. Away, thou'rt a knave. 
 
 5 s H A K E s out bis maker's undoing .-] We ftioald read s P fi A K s 
 out. This is to prepare us for Parolld* dilgrsce. 
 
 VOL. III. E Cb.
 
 50 dll's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Clo. You fliould have faid, Sir, before a knave, 
 th'art a knave , that's, before me th'art a knave : 
 this had been truth, Sir. 
 
 Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found 
 thee. 
 
 Clo. Did you find me in yourfelf, Sir? or were 
 you taught to find me? the fearch, Sir, was profitable, 
 and much fool may you find in you, even to the 
 world's pleafure, and the encreafe of laughter. 
 
 Par. A good knave, i* faith, and well fed. 
 Madam, my Lord will go away to night, 
 A very ferious bufmefs calls on him. 
 The great prerogative and rite of love, 
 Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge ; 
 But puts it off by a compell'd reftraint : 
 Whofe want and whofe delay, is ftrew'd with fweets 
 Which they diftil now in the curbed time, 
 To make the coming hour o*erflow with joy, 
 6 And pleafure drown the brim. 
 
 Hel. What's his will elfe? 
 
 Par. That you will take your inftant leave o'th* 
 
 King. 
 
 And make this hafte as your own good proceeding ; 
 Strengthened with what apology, you think, 
 May make it probable need. 
 
 Hel. What more commands he ? 
 
 Par. That having this obtain'd, you prefently 
 Attend his further pleafure. 
 
 Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will. 
 
 Par. I fhall report it fo. [Exit Parolles. 
 
 Hel. I pray you. Come, Sirrah. \jTo Clown. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 6 And pleafure drown the brim.~\ Metaphor taken from an over- 
 flowing cup. It is or,e of the boldeft and nobleft expreffions in all 
 
 SCENE
 
 All's ivtl/, that Ends ivelL 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 Enter Lafeu and Bertram. 
 
 Laf. But, I hope, your Lordmip thinks not him 
 a foldier. 
 
 Eer. Yes, my Lord, and of very Valiant approof. 
 
 Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. 
 
 Eer. And by other warranted teftimony. 
 
 Laf. Then my dial goes not true ; I took this lark 
 for a bunting. 
 
 Ber. I do allure you, my Lord, he is very great 
 in knowledge, and accordingly valiant. 
 
 Laf. I have then finned againft his experience, and 
 tranfgrels'd againft his valour ; and my ftate that way 
 is dangerous, fmce I cannot yet find in my heart to 
 repent : here he comes ; I pray you, make us friends, 
 I will purfue the amity. 
 
 . Enter Parolles. 
 
 Par. Thefe things (hall be done, Sir. 
 
 Laf. I pray you, Sir, who's his taylor ? 
 
 Par. Sir? 
 
 Laf. O, I know him well j I, Sir, he. Sir's, a 
 good workman, a very good taylor. 
 
 Bar. Is (he gone to the King? [Afide to Parolles. 
 
 Par. She is. 
 
 Eer. Will (he away tonight? 
 
 Par. As you'll have her. 
 
 Eer. I have writ my letters, casketed my treafure, 
 given order for our horfrs; and to night, when I 
 fhould take pofieflion of the bride . and ere I 
 
 do begin 
 
 Laf. A good traveller is fomething at the latter end 
 of a dinner ; but one that lyes three thirds, and ufes 
 a known truth to pafs a thoufand nothings with, fliould 
 be once heard, and thrice bearen God lave you, 
 captain. 
 
 E 2 Ber t
 
 5 2 All's well, that Ends <well. 
 
 Ber. Is there any unkindnefs between my Lord and 
 you, Monfieur? 
 
 Par. I know not, how I have deferved to run into 
 my Lord's difpleafure. 
 
 Laf. 7 You have made fhift to run into't, boots 
 and ipurs and all, like him that leapt into the cuftard; 
 and out of it you'll run again, rather than fuffer 
 queftion for your refidence. 
 
 Ber. It may be, you have miftaken him, my Lord. 
 
 Laf. And (hall do fo ever, tho* I took him at's 
 prayers. Fare you well, my Lord, and believe this 
 of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut : the 
 foul of this man is his clothes. Truft him not in 
 matter of heavy confequence: I have kept of them 
 tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur, 
 I have fpoken better of you, than you have or will 
 deferve at my hand, but we muft do good againft 
 evil. [Exit. 
 
 Par. An idle lord, I fwear. 
 
 Ber. I think fo. 
 
 Par. Why, do you not know him? 
 
 Ber. Yes, I know him well, and common fpcech 
 Gives him a worthy pafs. Here comes my clog. 
 
 SCENE XL 
 
 Enter Helena. 
 
 Hel. I have, Sir, as I was commanded from you, 
 Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave 
 For prefent parting j only, he detires 
 Some private fpeech with you. 
 
 Ber. I mail obey his will. 
 You muft not marvel, Helen ^ at my courfe, 
 Which holds not colour with the time ; nor does 
 
 1 You have madejhift to run intot, boots and (purs and alL like 
 him that leapt into the cuftard.] ft was a foolery pra&is'd at city- 
 entertainments, whilft the Jejter or Zany was in vogue, for him to 
 j iimp into a large deep cufturd: fet for the pn.rpofe Mr T ! -eof>altt. 
 
 The
 
 All's rvell, tlat Ends 'well 53 
 
 The miniftration and required office 
 
 On my particular. Prepar'd I was not 
 
 For fuch a bufinefs ; therefore am I found 
 
 So much unfettled : this drives me to intreat you, 
 
 That prefently you take your way for home, 
 
 And rather mufe, than ask, why 1 intreat you j 
 
 For my refpefts are better than they feem, 
 
 And my appointments have in them a need 
 
 Greater than Ihews itfelf at the firft view, 
 
 To you that know them not. This to my mother. 
 
 [Giving a letter, 
 
 'Twill be two days ere I mall fee you, fo 
 I leave you to your wifdom. 
 
 Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay, 
 But that I am your moft obedient fervant, 
 
 Ber. Come, come, no more of that. 
 
 Hel. And ever mall 
 
 With true obfervance feek to eke out That, 
 Wherein tow'rd me my homely flars have fail'd 
 To equal my great fortune. 
 
 Ber. Let That go : 
 JVly hafte is very great. Farewel; hie home. 
 
 Hel. Pray, Sir, your pardon. 
 
 Ber. Well, what would you fay ? 
 
 Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe ; 
 Nor dare I fay, 'tis mine, and yet it is ; 
 But, like a tim'rous thief, moft fain would fteal 
 What law does vouch mine own. 
 
 Ber. What would you have? 
 
 Hel. Something, and fcarce fo much' nothing, 
 indeed [yes ; . 
 
 I would not tell you what I would, my Lord 'faith, 
 Strangers and foes do funder, and not kifs. 
 
 Ber. I pray you, (lay not : but in hafte to horfe. 
 
 Hel. 1 lhall not break your bidding, good my 
 Lord. [Exit Helena. 
 
 Ber. Where are my other men, Monfieur ?--- -farewel. 
 3 Go
 
 54 dlYs 'welly that Ends veil. 
 
 Go thou towVd home, where I will never come, 
 Whilft I can fhake my fword, or hear the drum : 
 Away, and for our flight. 
 
 Par. Bravely, Couragio! {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 The Duke's Court in FLO RE N c E. 
 
 Flouri/h. Enter the Duke of Florence, two French 
 
 Lords, with Soldiers. 
 
 Du K E. 
 
 SO that, from point to point, now have you heard 
 The fundamental reafons of this war, 
 Whofe great deofion hath much blood let forth, 
 And more thirfts after. 
 
 1 Lord. Holy feems the quarrel 
 
 Upon your Grace's part ; but black and fearful 
 On the oppcfer. 
 
 Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our coufin France 
 Would, in fo juft a bufmefs, fhut his bofom 
 Againft our borrowing prayers. 
 
 2 Lord. Good my Lord, 
 
 The reafons of our (late I cannot yield. 
 But like a common and * an outward man, 
 That the great figure of a council frames 
 * By felf-unable notion ; therefore dare not 
 Say what I think of it, fmce I have found 
 Myfelf in my incertain grounds to fail 
 AS often as I gueft. 
 Duke, Be it his pleafure. 
 
 i an eutivard man,'] i. e. one not in the fecret of affairs. 
 
 3 By felf-unable MOTION;] We fhould read NOTION. 
 
 2 Lord.
 
 Count 
 
 All's well, that Ends 'well. 55 
 
 2 Lord. But I am fure, the younger of our nation, 
 That furfeit on their cafe, will day by day 
 Come here for phyfick. 
 
 Duke. Welcome fhall they be: 
 And all the honours, that can fly from us, 
 Shall on them fettle. You know your places well. 
 When better fall, for your avails they fell ; 
 To-morrow, to the field. \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to Roufillon, in France. 
 
 Enter Countefs and Clown. 
 
 JT hath happened, all as I would have had it ; 
 fave, that he comes not along with her. 
 
 Clo. By my troth, I take my young Lord to be a 
 very melancholy man. 
 
 Count. By what obfervance, I pray you ? 
 
 Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and fing ; 
 mend his ruff, and fing; ask queftions, and ling; 
 pick his teeth, and fing. I knew a man that had this 
 trick of melancholy, fold a goodly manor for a fong. 
 
 Count. Let me fee what he writes, and when he 
 means to come. [Reads the letter. 
 
 Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, fince I was at court. 
 Our old ling, and our Isbels o'th' country, are nothing 
 like your old ling, and your Isbels o' th' court : the 
 brain of my Cupid's knock'd out ; and I begin to 
 love, as an old man loves mony, with no ftomach. 
 
 Count. What have we here ? 
 
 Clo. E'en That you have there. [Exit, 
 
 Countefs reads a letter. 
 
 I have fent you a daughter-in-law: Jhe hath reco- 
 
 vered the King^ and undone me. 1 have wedded her, 
 
 E 4 *#
 
 4H's well, that Ends 
 
 not bedded her-; and facrn to make the not eternal. Ton 
 Jhall bear, I am run away ; know it, before the report 
 com \ If there be breadth enough in the world^ I will 
 bold a long diftance. My duty to you. 
 
 Tour unfortunate SOK, 
 
 Bertram. 
 
 This is not well, rafh and unbridled boy, 
 To fly the favours of fo good a King, 
 To pluck his indignation on thy head ; 
 By the mifprizing of a maid, too virtuous 
 For the contempt of empire. 
 
 Re-enter Clown. 
 
 Clo. O Madam, yonder is heavy news within be- 
 tween two foldiers and my young lady. 
 
 Count. What is the matter ? 
 
 Go. Nay, there is fome comfort in the news, fome 
 comfort 5 your Ton will not be kill'd fo foon as I 
 thought he would. 
 
 Count. Why mould he be kill'd? 
 
 Clo. So fay I, Madam, if he run away, as I hear 
 fce does ; the danger is in (landing to't , that's the 
 Jofs of men, though it be the getting of children. 
 Here they come, will tell you more. For my part, 
 I only hear, your fon was run away. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Helena, and two G&ntkmen. 
 
 j (Sent. Save you, good Madam. 
 
 Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for ever gone. - 
 
 2 Gent. Do not fay fo. 
 
 Count. Think upon patience : 'pray you, gentlemen, 
 I've felt fo many quirks of joy and grief, 
 That the firft face of neither, on the flarr, 
 Can woman me unto'L Where is my fon ? 
 
 2 Gent.
 
 All's wll) that Ends well. 57 
 
 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to ferve the Duke of 
 
 Florence. 
 
 We met him thitherward, for thence we came ; 
 And, after fome difpacch in hand at court, 
 Thither we bend again. 
 
 Hel. Look on this letter, Madam ; here's my pafs- 
 port. 
 
 3 When thou can ft get the ring, ti-pon my -finger, which 
 
 never JJjall come off; and flew me a child begotten 
 of thy body that I am father to, then call me buf- 
 band : but in fuch a Then I write a Never. 
 This is a dreadful fentence. 
 
 Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen ? 
 
 1 Gent. Ay, Madam, and, for the contents' fake, 
 are forry for our pains. 
 
 Count. I pr'ychee, lady, have a better cheer. 
 If thou engroffeft all the griefs as thine, 
 Thou robb'ft me of a moiety: he was my fon, 
 But I do wafh his name out of my blood, 
 And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he ? 
 
 2 Gent. Ay, Madam. 
 Count. And to be a foldier ? 
 
 2 Gent. Such is his noble purpofe ; and, believe*t, 
 The Duke will lay upon him all the honour 
 That good convenience claims. 
 
 Count. Return you thither ? 
 
 i Gent. Ay, Madam, with the fwifteft wing of fpeed. 
 Hel. * Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 
 'Tis bitter. [Reading. 
 
 Count. Find you that there ? 
 Hel. Yes, Madam. 
 
 3 When thou can Jl get the ring, upon my finger,] i. e. When thou 
 canit get the ring, which is on my finger, into thy pofieffion. The 
 Oxford Editor, who took it the other way, to fignify, when thou 
 canil get ic on upon ray finger, very fagaciou fly alters it to, When 
 thou canjl get the ring from my fagtr, 
 
 I Gent.
 
 58 All's 'welly float Ends 'well. 
 
 I Gent. 'Tis but the boldnefs of his hand, happ'ly, 
 which his heart was not confenting to. 
 
 Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife ? 
 There's nothing here, that is too good for him, 
 But only fhe ; and fhe deferves a lord, 
 That twenty fuch rude boys might tend upon, 
 And call her hourly miftrefs. Who was with him ? 
 
 i Gent. A fervant only, and a gentleman 
 Which I have fome time known. 
 
 Count. Parottesy was't not ? 
 
 i Gent. Ay, my good lady, he. 
 
 Count, A very tainted fellow, and full of wickednefs : 
 My fon corrupts a well-derived nature 
 With his inducement. 
 
 i Gent. Indeed, good lady, the fellow has 4 a deal 
 of that too much, which holds him much to have. 
 
 Count. Y'are welcome, gentlemen ; I will intreat 
 you, when you fee my fon, to tell him, that his fword 
 can never win the honour that he lofes : more I'll in- 
 treat you written to bear along. 
 
 i Gent. We ferve you, Madam, in that and all 
 your worth ieft affairs. 
 
 Count. Not fo, but as we change our courtefies. 
 Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countefs and Gent. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Hel. 'fill I have no wife, 1 have nothing in France. 
 Nothing in France , until he has no wife ! 
 
 4 a deal of that too much, <vchich holds him much to have.] That 
 is, his vices Hand him in ftead. Helen had before delivered this 
 thought in all the beauty of expreflion. 
 
 / kno~jc him a nefarious lyar j 
 
 Think him a great way fool, folely a CGiuard* 
 Tet theft fixt e<vils Jit fo fit in htm, 
 That th?y take place, Awhile <virtui s fieely band 
 Liok hlfak in the cold 'wind 
 3u*. the Qxfit-d Editor reads, Which *hs'jes him not muth tohavt. 
 
 Thou
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 59 
 
 Thou fhalt have none, Rmifillon^ none in France ; 
 
 Then haft thou all again. Poor lord ! is't I 
 
 That chafe thee from thy country, and expofe 
 
 Thofe tender limbs of thine to the event 
 
 Of the none-fparing war? and is it I 
 
 That drive thee from the fportive court, where thou 
 
 Waft fhot at with fair eyes, to be the mark 
 
 Of fmoaky muskets ? O you leaden meflengers, 
 
 That ride upon the violent fpeed of fire, 
 
 Fly with falfe aim -, $ pierce the ftill-moving air, 
 
 That fings with piercing, do not touch my lord : 
 
 Whoever flioots at him, I fet him there. 
 
 Whoever charges on his forward breaft, 
 
 I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it ; 
 
 And tho* I kill him not, I am the caufe 
 
 His death was fo effected. Better 'twere, 
 
 I met the rav'ning lion when he roar'd 
 
 With fharp conftraint of hunger: better 'twere, 
 
 That all the miferies, which nature owes, 
 
 Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roufillon ; 
 
 Whence honour but of danger wins a fear ; 
 
 As oft it lofes all. I will be gone : 
 
 My being here it is, that holds thee hence. 
 
 Shall I ftay here to do't? no, no, although 
 
 The air of paradife did fan the houfe, 
 
 And angels offic'd all; I will be gone; 
 
 That pitiful rumour may report my flight, 
 
 To conlblate thine ear. Come, night ; end, day ! 
 
 For with the dark, poor thief, I'll fteal away. [Exit. 
 
 5 move the ftill-piercing air, 
 
 Tbatjtngs 'with piercing ] The words are here odly (huffled 
 into nonfenfe. We Ihould read, 
 
 pierce the Hill moving air, 
 
 *ThatJing$ with piercing, 
 
 i. e. pierce the air, which is in perpeiual motion, and fuffers no 
 injury by piercing. 
 
 SCENE
 
 60 All's wll, that Ends well. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 Changes to the Duke's Court in Florence. 
 
 Plourijh. Enter the Duke of Florence, Bertram, Drum 
 and Trumpets, Soldiers^ Parolles. 
 
 H E General of our Horfe thou art, and we, 
 Great in our hope, lay our beft love and 
 
 credence 
 Upon thy promifing fortune. 
 
 Ber. Sir, it is 
 
 A charge too heavy for my ftrength ; but yet 
 We'll ftrive to bear it for your worthy fake, 
 To th* extream edge of hazard. 
 
 Duke. Then go forth, 
 And fortune play upon thy profp'rous helm, 
 As thy aufpicious miftrefs! 
 
 Ber. This very day, 
 Great Mars, I put myfelf into thy file ; 
 Make me but like my thoughts, and I fhall prove 
 A lover of thy drum ; hater of love. [Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE VI 
 
 Changes to Roufillon in France. 
 
 Enter Countefs and Steward. 
 
 Count. \ Las ! and would you take the letter of her ? 
 JL\ Might you not know, me would do, as me 
 
 has done, 
 By fending me a letter ? Read it again. 
 
 LETTER.
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 61 
 
 LETTER. 
 
 / am St. Jaques' pilgrim^ tbitber gone ; 
 
 Ambitious love hath Jo in me offended, 
 That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon. 
 
 With fainted vow my faults to have amended. 
 Write* write, that from the bloody courfe of war 
 
 My dear eft majier, your dear fon, may hie ; 
 Blefs him at home in peace, whilft I from far 
 
 His name with zealous fervour fanflifie. 
 His taken labours bid him me forgive ; 
 
 /, his defpiteful Juno, fent him forth 
 From courtly friends, 'with camping foes to live ; 
 
 Where death and danger dog the heels of worth. 
 He is too good and fair for death and me, 
 Whom I myfelf embrace, to fet him free. 
 
 Ah, what fliarp flings are in her mildeft words? 
 Rynaldo, you did never lack advice fo much, 
 As letting her pafs fo ; had I fpoke with her, 
 I could have well diverted her intents, 
 Which thus me hath prevented. 
 
 Stew. Pardon, Madam, 
 If I had given you this at over-night 
 She might have been o'er-ta'en j and yet flie writes, 
 Purfuit would be but vain. 
 
 Count. What angel lhall 
 Blefs this unworthy husband ? he cannot thrive, 
 Unlefs her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear, 
 And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath 
 Of greateft juftice. Write, write, Rynaldo, 
 To this unworthy husband of his wife ; 
 Let every word weigh heavy of her worth, 
 That he does weigh too light : my greateft grief, 
 Tho* little he do feel it, fet down lharply. 
 Difpatch the moft convenient meflenger ; 
 
 When
 
 62 All's we//, that Ends 
 
 When, haply, he fhall hear that fhe is gone, 
 He will return, and hope I may, that (he, 
 Hearing To much, will fpeed her foot again, 
 Led hither by pure love. Which of them both 
 Is deareft to me, I've no skill in fenfe 
 To make diftinction ; provide this meflenger ; 
 My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak ; 
 Grief would have tears, and forrow bids me fpeak. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Changes to a publick Place in Florence. 
 A Tucket afar off. 
 
 Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, 
 and Mariana, with other Citizens. 
 
 Wid. "\^ AY, come. For if they do approach the 
 Jl\ city, we mall lofe all the fight. 
 
 Dia. They fay, the French Count has done mod 
 honourable fervice. 
 
 Wid. It is reported, that he has ta'en their greateft 
 commander ; and that with his own hand he flew the 
 Duke's brother. We have loft our labour, they are 
 gone a contrary way: hark, you may know by their 
 trumpets. 
 
 Afar. Come, let*s return again, and fuffice ourfelves 
 with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of 
 this French Earl ; the honour of a maid is her name, 
 and no legacy is fo rich as honcfty. 
 
 Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been 
 follicited by a gentleman his companion. 
 
 Mar. \ know that knave, (hang him !) one Parol- 
 les -, a filthy officer he is in thofe fuggeftions for the 
 young Earl ; beware of them, Diana ; their promifes, 
 enticements, oaths, tokens, and all thefe engines of 
 
 luft,
 
 All's well, that Ends 'well. 63 
 
 luft, * are the things they go under j many a maid 
 hath been feduced by them j and the mifery is, ex- 
 ample, that fo terrible fhews in the wreck of maiden- 
 hood, cannot for all that diffuade fuccefilon, but that 
 they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I 
 hope, I need not to advife you further , but, I hope, 
 your own grace will keep you where you are, tho' 
 there were 7 no further danger found, but the modefty 
 which is fo loft. 
 
 Dia. You fhall not need to fear me. 
 
 Enter Helena, dlfgulSd like a Pilgrim. 
 
 WiA. I hope fo Look, here comes a pilgrim ; 
 
 I know, me will lye at my houfe; thither they fend 
 one another; I'll queftion her: God fave you, pil- 
 grim ! whither are you bound ? 
 
 6 are not the things they go under;} Mr.Theola Id explains thefe words 
 by, They are not really fo true and fence reat in appearance they feem 
 to be. He found fomething like this fenfe would fit the paflage, but 
 whether the words would fit the fenfe he feems not to have confi- 
 dered. The truth is, the negative particle fhould be (truck out, 
 and the words read thus, are the things they go under; i. e. they 
 make ufe of oath?, promifes, &c. to facilitate their defign upon 
 us. The allufion is to the military ufe of cover'd-ways, to facili- 
 tate an approach or attack ; and the Scene, which is a befieged 
 city, and the perfons fpoken of who are foldicrs, make the phrafe 
 very proper and natuial. The Oxford Editor has adopted this 
 correction, tho' in his uiual way, with a but; and reads, art but 
 the things they go under. 
 
 7 no further KNOWN, but the modejly which is fo loft.] Mariana 
 advifes Diana not to believe young (oldiers' oaths and promifes ; 
 fhews her the mifchiefs attendant on the lols of honour; and con- 
 cludes, that (he ought to be careful to preferve that, tho' (he were 
 lure (lie mould feel no other ill confluence than only the lofs of 
 her modefty. From hence it appears we (hould read, no further 
 danger FOUND, but the modefly <u<hifh it fo loft. Not only on ac- 
 count of the antithefis reftored by the word faun d, which refers to 
 loft, a thing which ia Shaktfpsar's writing is not to be overlooked, 
 but principally bccaufe the queftion here is not concerning the bare 
 knowledge of the confequences of a woman's lofing her honour, 
 but concerning Diana's experience of this matter in her own cafe ; 
 with which the reading here propofed can only agree, 
 
 Hsl.
 
 64 All's well, that Ends *uxlL 
 
 Hel. To St. Jaques le Grand. Where do the pal- 
 mers lodge, I do befeech you ? 
 
 Wid. At the Sc. Francis, befide the port. 
 
 Hel. Is this the way ? [A march afar off. 
 
 Wid. Ay, marry, is't. Hark you, they come this 
 
 way. 
 If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, but 'till the troops 
 
 come by, 
 
 I will conduct you where you mail be lodg'd ; 
 The rather, for, I think, I know your hoftefs 
 As ample as myfelf. 
 
 Hel. Is it yourfelf ? 
 
 Wid. If you mall pleafe fo, pilgrim. 
 
 Hel. I thank you, and will flay upon your leifure. 
 
 Wid. You came, I think, from France. 
 
 Hel. I did fo. 
 
 Wid. Here you mall fee a countryman of yours, 
 That has done worthy fervice. 
 
 Hel. His name, I pray you? 
 
 Dia. The Count Roujillon: know you fuch a one ? 
 
 Hel. But by the ear, that hears moft nobly of him \ 
 His face I know not. 
 
 Dia. Whatfoe'er he is, 
 
 He's bravely taken here. He ftole from France, 
 As 'tis reported ; for the King had married him 
 Againft his liking. Think you, it is fo ? 
 
 Hel. Ay, furely, 8 meerlye truth ; I know his lady; 
 
 Dia. There is a gentleman that ferves the Count, . 
 Reports but courfely of her. 
 
 Hel. What's his name ? 
 
 Dia. Monfieur Parolles. 
 
 Hel. Oh, I believe with him, 
 In argument of praife, or to the worth 
 Of the great Count himfelf, me is too mean 
 
 8 MEER THE truth ] We Ihould read, MEERLYB truth, 
 
 i. e. certainly. So Sir Thomas Moore, 
 
 i i i that we may merelye mett in biai'tri. 
 
 To
 
 Alts well, that Ends <we!l. 67 
 
 To have her name repeated ; all her defcrving 
 Is a referved honefty, and That 
 I have not heard examin'd. 
 
 Dia. Alas, .poor lady ! 
 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife 
 Of a detecting lord. 
 
 Wid. Ah! right; good creature! wherefoe'er {he is 
 Her heart weighs fadly 5 this young maid might do her 
 A fhrewd turn, if (he pleas'd. 
 
 Hel. How do you mean ? 
 May be, the am'rous Count follicits her 
 In the unlawful purpofe. 
 
 IVid. He does, indeed ; 
 And brokes with all, that can in fuch a fuit 
 Corrupt the tender honour of a maid : 
 But fhe is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard 
 In honefteft defence. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Drum and Colours. Enter Bertram, Parolles, Officer* 
 and Soldiers attending. 
 
 Mar. The Gods forbid elfe! 
 
 Wid. So now they come : 
 That is Antonio, the Duke's eldeft fon ; 
 That, Efcalus. 
 
 Hel. Which is the Frenchman? 
 
 Dia. He } 
 
 That with the plume ; 'tis a mod gallant fellow ; 
 I would, he lov'd his wife! if he were honefter, 
 He were much goodlier. Is't not a handfome gentleman i 
 
 Hel. I like him well. 
 
 Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honeft j yond*s that fame 
 
 knave, 
 
 That leads him to thefe places ; were I his lady, 
 I'd poifon that vile rafcal. 
 
 VOL. III. F :
 
 <$8 'All's TO//, that Ends 'well 
 
 Hel. -Which is he ? 
 
 Dia. That jack-an-apes with fcarfs. Why is he 
 melancholy ? 
 
 Hel. Perchance, he's hurt i'th' battel. 
 
 Par. Lofe our drum ! well.' 
 
 Mar. He*s ihrewdly vex'd at fbmething. Look, 
 he has fpied us. 
 
 Wid t Marry, hang you ! 
 
 [Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, fcfc 
 
 Mar. And your courtefie, for a ring-carrier ! 
 
 Wid. The troop is paft : come, pilgrim, I will 
 
 bring you, 
 
 Where you mail hoft : Of injoyn'd penitents 
 There's four or five, to great St. Jaques bound, 
 Already at my houfe. 
 
 Hel. I humbly thank you: 
 Pleafe it this matron, and this gentle maid 
 To eat with us to night, the charge and thanking 
 Shall be for me : and to requite you further, 
 I will beftow fome precepts on this virgin 
 Worthy the note. 
 
 Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Bertram, and the two French Lords. 
 
 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't : let 
 him have his way. 
 
 2 Lord. If your lordmip find him not a hilding, 
 hold me no more in your refpect. 
 
 I Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. 
 
 Eer. Do you think, I am fo fardeceiv'd in him? 
 
 i Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direft 
 knowledge, without any malice, but to fpeak of him 
 as my kinfman , he's a mod notable coward, an in* 
 finite and endlefs liar, an hourly promife- breaker, the 
 
 owner
 
 Alt's <welI 3 that Ends welL 69 
 
 bwner of no one good quality worthy your lordftiip*s 
 entertainment. 
 
 2 Lord. It were fit you knew him, left s repofing 
 too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might 
 at fome great and trufty bufmefs in a main danger fail 
 you. 
 
 Ber. I would, I knew in what particular aftion to 
 try him. 
 
 2 Lord, None better than to let him fetch off his 
 drum i which you hear him fo confidently undertake 
 to do, 
 
 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines , will fud- 
 denly furprize him ; fuch I will have, whom, I am 
 fure, he knows not from the enemy : we will bind 
 and hood- wink him fo, that he fhall fuppofe no other 
 but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adver- 
 faries, when we bring him to our own tents ; be but 
 your lordfliip prefent at his examination, if he do not 
 for the promife of his life, and in the higheft com- 
 pulfion of bafe fear, offer to betray you, and deliver 
 all the intelligence in his power againft you, and that 
 with the divine forfeit of his foul upon oath, never 
 truft my judgment in any thing. 
 
 2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch 
 his drum ; he fays, he has a ftratagem for't ; when 
 your lordfhip fees the bottom of his fuccefs in't, and 
 to what metal this counterfeit Jump of 9 Oar will be 
 melted, if you give him not ' John Drum's entertain* 
 
 9 Oar fpelt right by Mr. Theobald. 
 
 i John Drum'j entertainment, , j Ho!ivp/bed> in his defcription of 
 Ireland, fpeaking of Patrick Scarfefield, (mayor of Dublin in the 
 year 1551,) and of his extravagant hofpitalky, fubjoins, that no 
 gueft had ever a cold or forbidding look from any part of his fa- 
 mily : fo tnac bis porter, or any other Officer, durft not, for both hit 
 ears, give the fetnplejl man, that re for ted to his houfe, Tom Drum'/ 
 entertainment, which is, to hale a man in by the head, and thruft 
 him out by both the ftioulders. Mr. Theobald. 
 
 F 2 ment,
 
 Ms well, that Ends 'well 
 
 ment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he 
 comes. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 Enter Parolles. 
 
 . i Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not 
 the humour of his defign, let him fetch off his drum 
 in any hand. 
 
 Ber. How now, Monfieur? this drum flicks forely 
 in your difpofition. 
 
 2 Lord. A pox't on't, let it go, 'tis but a drum. 
 
 Par. But a drum ! is't but a drum ? a drum fo loft ! 
 there was an excellent command ! to charge in with 
 our horfe upon our own wings, and to rend our own 
 foldiers. 
 
 2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command 
 of the fervice i it was a difafter of war that Cafar 
 himfelf could not have prevented, if he had been there 
 to command. 
 
 Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our fuccefs: 
 fome difhonour we had in the lofs of that drum, but 
 it is not to be recover'd. 
 
 Par. It might have been recover'd. 
 
 Ber. It might, but it is not now. 
 
 Par. It is to be recover'd ; but that the merit of 
 fervice is feldom attributed to the true and exact per- 
 Jormcr, I would have that drum or another, or bic 
 jacet 
 
 Ber. Why, if you have a ftomach to'r, Monfieur ; 
 if you think your my fiery in flratagem, can bring 
 this inftrumentof honour again into his native quarter, 
 be magnanimous in the enterprize and go on j I will 
 grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you fpeed 
 well in it, the Duke mall both fpeak of it, and extend 
 to you what further becomes his greatnefs, even to the 
 istmofl fyllable of your worthinefs. 
 
 Par.
 
 Alts well, that Ends well. 7 1 
 
 Pur. By the hand of a foldier, I will undertake it. 
 
 Ber. But you muft not now (lumber in it. 
 
 Par. I'll about it this evening j and * I will pn- 
 fently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myfeli in 
 my certainty, put myfelf into my mortal preparation j 
 and, by midnight, look to hear further from me. 
 
 Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his Grace, you are 
 gone about it ? 
 
 Par. I know not what the fuccefs will be, my Lord j 
 but the attempt I vow. 
 
 Ber. I know, th'art valiant; and to the 3 poffibility 
 of foldierfhip, will fubfcribe for thee; fareweJ. 
 
 Par. I love not many words. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE XI. 
 
 1 Lord. No more than a Mm loves water.- Is not 
 this a ftrange fellow, my Lord, that fo confidently 
 feems to undertake this bufmefs, which he knows is not 
 to be done ; damns himfelf to do it, and dares better 
 be damn'd than to do't ? 
 
 2 Lord. You do not know him, my Lord, as we do -, 
 certain it is, that he will (leal himfelf into a man's fa- 
 vour, and for a week efcape a great deal of difcoveries ; 
 but when you find him out, you have him ever after. 
 
 Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no deed at 
 all of this, that fo ferioufly he does addrefs himfelf 
 unto ? 
 
 2 Lord. None in the world, but return with an in- 
 vention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies ; 
 but we have almoft imbofs'd him, you mall fee his fall 
 to night , for, indeed, he is not for your lordfhip's 
 refped. 
 
 2 / will prefently pen down my Dilemmas,] By this word, Pa- 
 rolles is made to infinuate that he had feveral ways, all equally 
 certain, of recovering this Drum. For a Dilemma is an argument 
 that concludes both ways. 
 
 3 fojfibility of thy folditr/kip,] dele tJy ; the fenfe requires it. 
 
 t 3 1
 
 7 2 Alt s 'well, ilat Ends 'well 
 
 1 Lord. \Ve*ll make you fome fport with the fox, 
 ere we cafe him. He was firft fmoak'd by the old 
 lordLafeu ; when his difguife and he is parted, tell me 
 what a fprat you fhall find him ; which you mall fee, 
 this very night. 
 
 2 Lord. I mud go and look my twigs ; he (hall be 
 Caught. 
 
 Ber. Your brother, he mall go along with me. 
 
 2 Lord. As't pleafe your lordfhip. I'll leave you. 
 
 \_Exit. 
 
 Ser. Now will I lead you to the houfe, and mew you 
 The Jafs I fpoke of. 
 
 i Lord. But you fay, lhe*s honeft. 
 
 Ber. That's all the fault : 1 fpoke with her but once, 
 And found her wondrous cold ; but 1 fent to her, 
 By this fame coxcomb that we have i'th* wind, 
 Tokens and letters, which me did re-fend ; 
 And this is all I've done : me's a fair creature, 
 Will you go fee her ? 
 
 I Lord. With all my heart, my lord. -[Extunti 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 
 Changes to the Widow's Houfe* 
 
 Enter Helena, and Widow. 
 
 Het. T F you mifdoubt me that I am not /he, 
 
 Jl I know nor, how I mail affure you further ; 
 "* But I mail lofe the grounds I work upon. 
 
 Wid. Tho 3 my eftate be fallen, I was well born, 
 Nothing acquainted with thefe bufinefles 5 
 And would not put my reputation now 
 In any ftaining a<5l. 
 
 4 B& jfvall J a ft tie ground: I -v:srk upon ] *. e. By difcovpring 
 herfelf to the eount,
 
 Alts well, that Ends well. 7 3 
 
 Hel. Nor would I wifh you. 
 Firft, give me truft, the Count he is my husband j 
 And what to your fworn counfel I have fpoken, 
 Is fo, from word to word ; and then you cannot, 
 By the good aid that I of you mall borrow, 
 Err in beftowing it. 
 
 Wid. I mould believe you, 
 
 For you have fhew'd me that, which well approves 
 Y'are great in fortune. 
 
 Hel. Take this purfe of gold, 
 And let me buy your friendly help thus far, 
 Which I will over-pay, and pay again 
 When I have found it. The Count wooes your 
 
 daughter, 
 
 Lays down his wanton fiege before her beauty, 
 Refolves to carry her ; let her confent, 
 As we'll direcl: her how, 'tis beft to bear it. 
 Now his important blood will nought deny, 
 That (he'll demand: a ring the Count does wear, 
 That downward hath fucceeded in his houfe 
 From fon to fon, fome four or five defcents, 
 Since the firft father wore it. This ring he holds 
 In moft rich choice ; yet in his idle fire 9 
 To buy his will, it would not feem too dear, 
 Howe'er repented after. 
 
 Wid. Now I fee the bottom of your purpofe, 
 
 Hel. You fee it lawful then. It is no more, 
 But that your daughter, ere me feems as won, 
 Defires this ring ; appoints him an encounter ; 
 In fine, delivers me to fill the time, 
 Herfelf moft chaftly abfent : after this, 
 To marry her, I'll add three thoufand crowns 
 To what is paft already. 
 
 Wid. I have yielded : 
 
 Inftruct my daughter how me mall perfevere, 
 That time and place, with this deceit fo lawful, 
 May prove coherent. Every night he comes 
 
 F 4 With
 
 74 dlts well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 With mu-fick of all forts, and fongs compos'd 
 To her unworthinefs : it nothing fteads us 
 To chide him from our eaves, for he perfifts, 
 As if his life lay on't. 
 
 Hel. Why then, to night 
 Let us affay our plot ; which if it fpeed, , 
 * Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed ; 
 And lawful meaning in a wicked act ; 
 Where both not fin, and yet a fmful fad. 
 But let's about it [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 Part of the French Camp in Florence. 
 
 Enter one of tie French Lords, with five or fix Soldier* 
 in ambujh. 
 
 LORD. 
 
 HE can come no other way but by this hedge* 
 corner , when you fally upon him, fpeak what 
 terrible language you will ; though you underftand it 
 not yourfelv-es, no matter; for we muft not feem to 
 
 5 // wicked meaning in a lawful deed ; 
 
 dnd lawful meaning in a, i A w F u L aci ; ] To make this ging 
 ling riddle complete in all its parts, we fhould read the iccond line 
 thus, 
 
 And lawful meaning in a WICKED ali ; 
 
 The fenfe of the two Jines is this, It is a wicked meaning becaufe 
 the woman's intent is to deceive; bat a laivful deed, becaufe the 
 man enjoys his own wife. Again, it is a lawful meaning becaufe 
 done by her to gain her husband's eftranged affection, but it is a 
 nicked aSi becaufe he goes intentionally to commit adultery. The 
 riddle concludes thus, Whert Ittv net Jin and yet a jir.ful fafi '. i. e. 
 Where neither of them lin, and yet it is a fmful fad on both fides j 
 which conciufion, we fe? s requires the emendation here .made. 
 
 under*
 
 AW* well, that Ends 
 
 tmderftand him, unlefs fome one amongft us, whom 
 we mult produce for an interpreter. 
 
 Sol. Good captain, let me be th' interpreter. 
 
 Lord. Art not acquainted with him ? knows he not 
 thy voice? 
 
 Sol. No, Sir, I warrant you. 
 
 Lord. But what linfie-wooJfie haft thou to fpeak to 
 us again? 
 
 Sol. Ev'n fuch as you fpeak to me. 
 
 Lord. He muft think us fome band of ftrangers 
 i'th' adverfaries' entertainment. Now he hath a fmack 
 of all neighbouring languages, therefore we muft every 
 one be a man of his own fancy ; not to know what 
 we fpeak one to another, fo we feem to know, is to 
 know ftraight our purpofe : chough's language, gabble 
 enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, 
 you muft feem very politick. But couch, hoa! here 
 he comes, to beguile two hours in a deep, and then 
 to return and fwear the lies he forges. 
 
 Enter Parolles. 
 
 Par. Ten o* clock ; within thefe three hours 'twill 
 be time enough to go home. What mall I fay, I 
 have done ? it muft be a very plaufive invention that 
 carries it. They begin to fmoak me, and difgraces 
 have of late knock'd too often at my door ; 1 find, 
 my tongue is too fool-hardy , but my heart hath the 
 fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not daring 
 the reports of my tongue. 
 
 Lord. This is the firft truth that e'er thine own 
 tongue was guilty of. [Afide. 
 
 Par. What the devil mould move me to under- 
 take the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of 
 the impofilbility, and knowing I had no fuch pur* 
 pofe ? I muft give myfelf fome hurts, and fay, I got 
 them in exploit; yet flight ones will not carry it. 
 They will fay, came you off with fo little ? and great 
 
 ones
 
 76 dtts <well y that Ends well. 
 
 ones I dare not give ; wherefore what's the inftance ? 
 Tongue, I muft put you into a butter-woman's mouth, 
 1 and buy my felf another of Bajazet's mute, if you 
 prattle me into thefe perils. 
 
 Lord. Is it poffible, he fhould know what he is, 
 and be that he is? [Afide. 
 
 Par. I would the cutting of my garments would 
 ferve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanijh fword. 
 
 Lord. We cannot afford you fo. [Afide. 
 
 Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to fay, it 
 was in ftratagem. 
 
 Lord. 'Twould not do. [Afide. 
 
 Par. Or to drown my cloaths, and fay, I was ftript. 
 
 Lord. Hardly ferve. [Afide. 
 
 Par. Though I fwore, I leap'd from the window 
 of the citadel 
 
 Lord. How deep ? [Afidc. 
 
 Par. Thirty fathom. 
 
 Lord. Three great oaths would fcarce make that 
 be believed. \_Afide. 
 
 Par. I would, I had any drum of the Enemies ; I 
 would fwear, I recover'd it. 
 
 Lord. You mall hear one anon. \_Afide. 
 
 Par. A drum now of the enemies! 
 
 [Alarum within. 
 
 Lord. Tbroco mwoufus, cargo, cargo, cargo. 
 
 All. Cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo^ cargo. 
 
 Par. Oh ! ranfom, ranfom : do not hide mine eyeSo 
 [Theyfeize him and blindfold him. 
 
 Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos. 
 
 Par. I know, you are the Muskos regiment, 
 And I fhali lofe my life for want of language. 
 
 I and buy toy felf another of Eajazet'j MULE,] We fhould read, 
 M u T E , i.e. z Turkijb mute. So in Henry V. 
 Either our bijiorj Jhall with full mouth 
 Spfak_/r*Wj> of our afts ; or elfe our grave, 
 Like turkifh mute, Jhall have a tonguelefs mouth.
 
 Alts well, tlat Ends well. 77 
 
 If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, 
 
 Italian, or French^ let him fpeak to me, 
 
 I'll difcover That which fhall undo the Florentine. 
 
 Inter. Boskos vauvado ; I underftand thee, and can 
 fpeak thy tongue ; Kerelybonto, Sir, betake thee to 
 thy faith, for feventeen poniards are at thy bofom. 
 
 Par. Oh! 
 
 Int. Oh, pray, pray, pray. 
 Mancha ravancha dulche. 
 
 Lord. Ofceoribi dulchos volivcrco. 
 
 Int. The general is content to fpare thee yet, 
 And, hood-winkt as thou art, will lead thee on 
 To gather from thee. Haply thou may'ft inform 
 Something to fave thy life. 
 
 Par. Oh let me live, 
 And all the fecrets of our Camp I fhew ; 
 Their force, their purpofes : nay, I'll fpeak That 
 Which you will wonder at. 
 
 Int. But wilt thou faithfully ? 
 
 Par. If I do not, damn me. 
 
 Int. Acordo lint a. 
 
 Come on, thou art granted fpace. [Exit, 
 
 [Ajhort alarum 'within. 
 
 Lord. Go, tell the Count Roufillon and my brother, 
 We've caught the woodcock, and will keep him 
 
 muffled 
 'Till we do hear from them, 
 
 Sol. Captain, I will. 
 
 Lord. He will betray us all unto ourfelves. 
 Inform 5 em That. 
 
 Sol. So I will, Sir. 
 
 Lord. 'Till then J'll keep him dark and fafely 
 lockt. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE
 
 's well, that Evcls 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to the Widow's Houfe. 
 
 Enter Bertram, and Diana. 
 
 THEY told me, that your name was Fontibell. 
 Dia. No, my good lord, Dlana^ 
 
 Ber. Titled Goddefs, 
 
 And worth it with addition! bur, fair foul, 
 In your fine frame hath love no quality ? 
 If the quick fire of youth light not your mind, 
 You are no Maiden, but a Monument : 
 When you are dead, you fhould be fuch a one 
 As you are now, for you are cold and ftern j 
 And now you mould be as your Mother was, 
 When your fweet felf was got. 
 
 Dia. She then was honeft. 
 
 Ber. So mould you be. 
 
 Dia. No. 
 
 My Mother did but duty ; fuch, my Lord, 
 As you owe to your Wife. 
 
 Ber. No more o* that ! 
 I pr'ythee do not ftrive againft my vows : 
 I was compell'd to her, but I love thee 
 By love's own fweet conftraint, and will for ever 
 Do thee all rights of fervice. 
 
 Dia. Ay, fo you fervc us, 
 
 'Till we ferve you: but when you have our rofes. 
 You barely leave our thorns to prick ourfelves, 
 And mock us wirh our barenefs. 
 
 Ber. Hew have I fworn! 
 
 Dia. f Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth ; 
 But the plain fingie vow, that is vow'd true ; 
 ** What is not holy, that we fwear, not 'bides, 
 
 But 
 
 2 What is not holy, that we five ar not BY,] Yes, nothing i. more 
 than fuch kind of oath-. But Duma is not here accufmg 
 
 Bertram
 
 Alts well, that Ends well. 79 
 
 But take the High'ft to witnefs: then, pray tell me, 
 
 If I Ihould fwear by Jove's great Attributes 
 
 I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths, 
 
 When I did love you ill ? this has no holding, 
 
 To fwear by him whom I proteft to love, 
 
 That J will work againft him. Therefore your 
 
 oaths 
 
 Are words, and poor conditions but unfeal'd ; 
 At lead, in my opinion. 
 
 Ber. Change it, change it : 
 Be not fo holy-cruel. Love is holy, 
 And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts, 
 That you do charge men with : ftand no more off, 
 But give thyfelf unto my fick defires, 
 Which then recover. Say, thou art mine; and ever 
 My love, as it begins, mail fo perfever. 
 
 Dia. I fee, that men make hopes in fuch affairs 
 That we'll forfake ourfelves. Give me that ring. 
 
 Ber. I'll lend it thee, my Dear, but have no power 
 To give it from me. 
 
 Bertram for fwearing by a Being not holy, but for fwearing to an 
 unholy purpofe; as is evident from the preceeding lines, 
 
 'TJj not the many oaths, that make the Truth; 
 
 But the plain Jimp le <vo<w, that is wow d true. 
 The line in queftion, therefore, is evidently corrupt, and fhould be 
 read thus 
 
 What is not holy, that ive fwear, not ' B I D E s , 
 /'. e. If we fwear to an unholy purpofe the oath abides not, but is 
 diflolved in the making. This is an anfwer to the purpofe. She 
 fubjoins the reafon two or three lines after, 
 
 this has no holding, 
 
 To fivear by him, whom I proteji to loiie % 
 
 That I will work againjl him. 
 
 i. e. That oath can never hold, whofe fubjec~l is to offend and dif- 
 pleafe that Being, whom, I profefs, in the aft of fwearing by him, 
 to love and reverence. What may have mifled the editors into the 
 common reading was, perhaps, miftaking Bertram's words above, 
 
 By love's own/wee* conjlraint, to be an oath} whereas it 
 only fignifies, being conjlrained by love. 
 
 Dia.
 
 So Alh 'well, that Ends 
 
 Dia. Will you not, my Lord ? 
 
 Ber. It is an Honour 'longing to our Houfe, 
 Bequeathed down from many Anceftors ; 
 Which were the greateft obloquy i*th f world 
 In me to lofe. 
 
 Dia. Mine Honour's fuch a ring ; 
 My chaftity's the jewel of our Houfe, 
 Bequeathe4 down from many Anceftors ; 
 Which were the greateft obloquy i'th* world 
 In me to lofe. Thus your own proper wifdom 
 Brings in the champion Honour on my part, 
 Againft your vain aflault. 
 
 Ber. Here, take my ring. 
 My Houfe, my Honour, yea, my life be thine, 
 And I'll be bid by thee. 
 
 Dia. When midnight comes knock at my chamber 
 
 window ; 
 
 I'll order take, my Mother fhall not hear. 
 Now will I charge you in the band of truth, 
 When you have conquer'd my yet maiden-bed, 
 Remain there but an hour, nor fpeak to me : 
 My reafons are moft ftrong, and you fhall know them, 
 When back again this ring fhall be deliver'd ; 
 And on your finger, in the night, I'll put 
 Another ring, that, what in time proceeds, 
 May token to the future our paft deeds. 
 Adieu, 'till then ; then, fail not : you have won 
 A wife of me, tho* there my hope be done. 
 
 Ber. A heav'n on earth I've won by wooing thee. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Dia. For which live long to thank both heav'n 
 
 and me. 
 
 You may fo in the end. - 
 
 My Mother told me juft how he would woo, 
 As if me fat in's heart ; me fays, all men 
 Have the like oaths: he had fworn to marry me, 
 When his Wife's dead : therefore I'll lye with him, 
 
 When
 
 Alts well, flat Ends <w//. 81 
 
 When I am buried. 3 Since Frenchmen are fo braid, 
 Marry 'em that will, I'd live and die a maid 5 
 Only, in this difguife, I think't no fin 
 To cozen him, that would unjuftly win. [Exit, 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Changes to the French Camp in Florence. 
 Enter the two French Lords y and two or three Soldiers* 
 
 t Lord. \7 O U have not given him his Mother's 
 
 I letter? 
 
 2 Lord. I have deliver'd it an hour fmce ; there is 
 fomething in't, that ft ings his nature ; for, on the 
 reading it, he chang'd almoft into another man. 
 
 1 Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him 
 for making off fo good a wife, and fo fweet a lady. 
 
 2 Lord. Efpecially, he hath incurred the everlaft- 
 ing difpleafure of the King, who had even tun'd his 
 bounty to fmg happinefs to him. I will tell you a thing, 
 but you mall let it dwell darkly with you. 
 
 1 Lord. When you have fpoken it, 'tis dead, and 
 I am the grave of it. 
 
 2 Lord. He hath perverted a young Gentlewoman 
 here in Florence, of a moft chafte renown ; and this 
 night he flelhes his will in the fpoilof her honour ; he 
 
 I " Since Frenchmen are fo braid, 
 
 Marry that will, Til live and die a Maidi\ 
 What ! becaufe Frenchmen were falfe, flic, that was an Italian* 
 would marry nobody. The text is corrupted ; and we Qiouldread, 
 
 Since Frenchmen are fo braid, 
 
 Marry 'em that 'will, /*// live and die a maid. 
 i. e. fince Frfnchmen prove fo crooked and perverfe in their man- 
 ners, let who will marry them, I had rather live and die a maid, 
 than venture upon them. This me fays with a view to Hekn, who 
 appeared fo fond of her husband, and went thro' fo many difficul- 
 ties to obtain him. 
 
 hath
 
 *. 2 Alts 'welly that Ends well. 
 
 hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks hirr- 
 felf made in the unchafte compofition. 
 
 2 Lord. Now God delay our rebellion j as we arc 
 our felves, what things are we! 
 
 2 Lord. Meerly our own traitors ; and, as in the 
 common courfe of all treafons, we ftill fee them reveal 
 themfelves, 'till they attain to their abhorr'd ends ; fo 
 he, that in this action contrives againft his own Nobi- 
 lity, in his proper dream o'erflows himfelf. 
 
 1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us to be the 
 trumpeters of our unlawful intents ? we (hall not then 
 have his company to night ? 
 
 2 Lord. Not till after midnight ; for he is dieted 
 to his hour. 
 
 1 Lord. That approaches apace : I would gladly 
 have him fee his company anatomiz'd, that he might 
 take a meafure of his own Judgment, wherein fo cu- 
 rioufly he had fet this counterfeit. 
 
 2 Lord. We will not meddle with him 'till he come ; 
 for his prefence muft be the whip of the other. 
 
 1 Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of thefe 
 wars ? 
 
 2 Lord. I hear, there is an overture of Peace. 
 
 1 Lord. Nay, I afiiire you, a Peace concluded. 
 
 2 Lord. What will Count RoufiUon do then ? will 
 he travel higher, or return again into France ? 
 
 1 Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not 
 altogether of his Council. 
 
 2 Lord. Let it be forbid, Sir ! fo mould I be a great 
 deal of his aft. 
 
 i Lord. Sir, his Wife fome two months fince fled 
 from his Houfe, her pretence is a Pilgrimage to St. 
 Jaques le Grand ; which holy Undertaking, with moft 
 auftere fanflimony, (he accomplifh'd j and there refid- 
 ing, the tendernefs of her nature became as a prey 
 to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her laft breath, 
 and now fhe fings in heaven. 
 
 2 Lord.
 
 well, that Ends well. 8 1 
 
 2 Lord. How is this juftified ? 
 
 1 Lord. The ftron-ger part of it by her own letters, 
 which makes her ftory true, even to the point of her 
 death ; her Death it felf (which could not be her of- 
 fice to fay, is come) was faithfully confirm'd by the 
 Rector of the place. 
 
 2 Lord. Hath the Count all this intelligence ? 
 
 1 Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point 
 from point, to the full arming of the verity. 
 
 2 Lord. I am heartily forry that he'll be glad of 
 this. 
 
 i Lord. How mightily fometimes we make us 
 comforts of our lofies ! 
 
 i Lord. And how mightily fome other times we 
 drown our gain in tears ! the great dignity, that his va- 
 lour hath here acquired for him, fhail at home be en- 
 counter'd with a Ihame as ample. 
 
 1 Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, 
 good and ill together : our virtues would be proud, if 
 our faults whipt them not j and our crimes would dew 
 Ipair, if they were not cherifh'd by our virtues. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 How now ? wherc's your Matter ? 
 
 Ser. He met the Duke in the ftreet, Sir, of whom 
 he hath taken a folemn leave : his Lordihip will next 
 morning for France. The Duke hath offered him let- 
 ters of commendations to the King. 
 
 2 Lord. They mall be no more than needful there, 
 if they were more than they can commend. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Bertram. 
 
 i Lord. They cannot be too fweet for the King's 
 tartnefs : here's his Lordfhip now. How now, my 
 Lord, is't not after midnight ? 
 
 VOL. III. G Ecr.
 
 dll's well, that Ends well. 
 
 Ber. I have to night difpatch'd fixteen bufineffes, a 
 month's length a-piece, by an abftract of fuccefs; I 
 have congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his 
 neareft ; buried a wife, mourn'd for her ; writ to my 
 lady mother, I am returning ; entertained my convoy j 
 and, between thefe main parcels of difpatch, effected 
 many nicer needs : the ]aft was the grcateft, but That 
 I have not ended yet. 
 
 2 Lord. If the bufinefs be of any difficulty, and 
 this morning your departure hence, it requires hafle 
 of your Lordihip. 
 
 Ber. I mean, the bufinefs is not ended, as fearing to 
 hear of it hereafter. But mall we have this dialogue be- 
 t-ween the fool and the foldier ? come, + bring forth 
 this counterfeit Medal ; h'as deceiv'd me, like a dou- 
 ble-meaning prophefier. 
 
 2 Lord. Bring him forth ; h'as fate in the Stocks 
 all night, poor gallant knave. 
 
 Ber. No matter; his heels have deferv'd it, in 
 yfurping his fpurs fo long. How does he carry him- 
 fclf? 
 
 1 Lord. I have told your Lordfhip already: the 
 Stocks carry him. But to anfwer you as you would be 
 underftood, he weeps like a wench that had (hed her 
 milk , he hath confcfs'd himfelf to Morgan, whom he 
 fuppofes to be a Friar, from the time of his remem- 
 brance, to this very inftant di (after of his fetting i'th* 
 Stocks ; and what, think you, he hath confeft ? 
 
 Ber. Nothing of me, has he? 
 
 2 Lord. His confeffion is taken, and it fhall be read 
 to his face : if your Lordihip be in*t, as, 1 believe, 
 you are, you muft have the patience to hear it. 
 
 4 bring forth this counterfeit MODULE;] This epithet is improper 
 to a module, whicn profefles to be the counterfeit of another thing. 
 We fhould read MEDAL. And this the Oxford Editor follows* 
 
 Enter
 
 All's W/, tlat Ends well 3 
 
 Enter Parolles, with his Interpreter. 
 
 Ber. A plague upon him, muffled ! he can fay no- 
 thing of me ; hulh ! hum ! 
 
 1 Lord. Hoodman comes: PortotartaroJJa. 
 
 Int. He calls for the tortures ; what will you fay 
 without 'em ? 
 
 Par. I will confefs what I know without conftraint 5 
 if ye pinch me like a pafty, I can fay no more. 
 
 Int. Bosh Chimurcho. 
 
 2 Lord. BiUibindo chicurmurco. 
 
 Int. You are a merciful General : our General bids 
 you anfwer to what 1 {hall ask you out of a note. 
 
 Par. And truly, as I hope to live. 
 
 Int. Firft demand of him, how many Horfe the 
 Duke is ftrong. What fay you to that ? 
 
 Par. Five or fix thoufand, but very weak and un- 
 ferviceable : the troops are all fcatter'd, and the Com- 
 manders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and 
 credit, and as I hope to live. 
 
 Int. Shall I fet down your anfwer fo ? 
 
 Par. Do, I'll take the Sacrament on't, bow and 
 which way you will : all's one to me. 
 
 Ber. What a palt-faving flave is this ! 
 
 1 Lord. Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this is Monfieur 
 Parolles^ the gallant militarift, that was his own 
 phrafe, that had the whole theory of war in the knot 
 of his fcarf, and the practice in the chape of his 
 dagger. 
 
 2 Lord. I will never truft a man a'gain for keeping 
 his fvvord clean ; nor believe, he can have every thing 
 in him, by wearing his apparel neatly. 
 
 Int. Well, that's fet ddwn. 
 
 Par. Five or fix thoufand horfe I faid (I will fay 
 true) or thereabouts, fet down, for I'll fpeak truth. 
 i Lord. He's very near the truth in this. 
 
 G 2 Ber,
 
 #4 All's well, that Ends 'well 
 
 Ber. But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature 
 he delivers it. 
 
 Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, fay. 
 Int. Well, that's fet down. 
 
 Par. I humbly thank you, Sir : a truth's a truth, 
 the rogues are marvellous poor. 
 
 Int. Demand of him, of what ftrength they are a- 
 foot. What fay you to that ? 
 
 Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this pre- 
 fcnt hour, I will tell true. Let me fee ; Spurio a hun- 
 dred and fifty, Selajlian fo many, Corambus fo many, 
 Jaques fo many ; Guiltian, Cofmo, Lodowick, and G/ a- 
 tii, two hundred and fifty each ; mine own company, 
 Cbitopher, Vaumond^ Bentii, two hundred and fifty 
 each : fo that the mufter file, rotten and found, upon 
 my life, amounts not to fifteen thoufand Poll ; half 
 of the which dare not fhake the fnow from off their 
 caffocks, left they (hake themfelves to pieces. 
 Ber. What (hall be done to him ? 
 i Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. De- 
 mand of him my conditions, and what credit I have 
 with the Duke. 
 
 Int. Well, that's fet down. You mall demand of 
 him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th* camp, a 
 frenchman : what his reputation is with the Duke, 
 what his valour, honefty, and expertnefs in war ; or 
 whether he thinks, it were not pofiible with well-weigh- 
 ing fums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What 
 fay you to this?, what do you know of it ? 
 
 Par. I befeech you, Jet me anfwer to the particular 
 of the Interrogatories. Demand them fingly. 
 Int. Do you know this Captain Dumain ? 
 Par. I know him j he was a botcher's prentice in 
 Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the 
 IherirFs fool with child , a dumb innocent, that could 
 not fay him *y c 
 
 Ber.
 
 All's well, that Ends well 85 
 
 Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands ; tho* I 
 know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. 
 
 Int. Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florences 
 Camp ? 
 
 Par. Upon my knowledge he is, and Jowfie. 
 
 i Lord. Nay, look not fo upon me, we ihall hear 
 of your Lordfhip anon. 
 
 Inf. What is his reputation with the Duke? 
 
 Par. The Duke knows him for no other but a poor 
 officer of mine ; and writ to me the other day, to 
 turn him out o'th' band. I think, I have his letter in 
 my pocket. 
 
 Int. Marry, we'll fearch. 
 
 Par. In good fadnefs, I do not know ; either it is 
 there, or it is upon the file with the Duke's other let- 
 ters in my tent. 
 
 Inf. Here 'tis, here's a paper, mail I read it to you ? 
 
 Par. 1 do not know, if it be it or no. 
 
 Ber. Our Interpreter does it well. 
 
 I Lord. Excellently. 
 
 Int. Dian, the Count's afoot, and full of gold. 
 
 Par. That is not the Duke's letter, Sir -, that is an 
 advertifement to a proper maid in Florence, one Dia- 
 na, to take heed of the allurement of one Count Roa- 
 fllon, a foolifh idle boy ; but, for all that, very rut- 
 tifh. I pray you, Sir, put it up again. 
 
 Int. Nay, I'll read it firft, by your favour. 
 
 Par. My meaning in't, I proteft, was very honeft 
 in the behalf of the maid j for I knew the young 
 Count to be a dangerous and lafcivious boy, who is a 
 whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds. 
 
 Ber. Damnable ! both fides rogue. 
 
 Interpreter reads the letter. 
 When be fwears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it. 
 
 After hefcores, he never pays the fcore : 
 Half won, is match well made ; match, and well make it : 
 
 He ne'er pays after debts, take it before. 
 
 G 3 And
 
 86 All's <we1I, flat Ends well. 
 
 And fay, a foldier (Dian) told thee this : 
 Men are to mell with, boys are not to kifs. 
 For, count cf this, the Count's a fool, I know it ; 
 Wko-pays before, but not when he dees owe it. 
 
 Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, 
 
 PAROLLES; 
 
 Ecr. He (hall be whipt through the army with this 
 rhime in his forehead. 
 
 2 Lard. This is your devoted friend, Sir, the mani- 
 fold linguift, and the arm i- potent foldier. 
 
 Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and 
 now he's a cat to me. 
 
 Int. I perceive, Sir, by the General's looks, we mall 
 be fain to hang you. 
 
 Par. My life, Sir, in any cafe; not that I am afraid 
 to die ; but that my offences being many, I would re- 
 pent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, Sir, in 
 a Dungeon, i'ch' Stocks, any where, fo I may live. 
 
 Int. We'll fee what may be done, fo you confefs 
 freely ; therefore, once more, to this Captain Dumain : 
 you have anfvver'd to his reputation with the Duke, and 
 to his valour. What is his honefty ? 
 
 Par. He will fleal, Sir, an egg out of a cloifter j 
 for rapes and ravilhments he parallels NeJJus. Hepro- 
 fefles no keeping of oaths j in breaking them he is 
 ftronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with fuch vo- 
 lubility, that you would think, truth were a fool : 
 drunkennefs is his beft virtue, for he will be fwine- 
 drunk, and in his deep he does little harm, fave to his 
 Hbed-cloaths about him ; but they know his conditions, 
 and lay him in draw. I have but little more to fay. 
 Sir, of his honefly, he has every thing that an honeft 
 man mould not have ; what an honeft man Ihould 
 have, he has nothing. 
 
 i Lord. I begin to love him for this, 
 
 Bar.
 
 All's 'well, that Ends ^ell. 87 
 
 Ber. For this defcription of thine honefty ? a pox up- 
 on him for me, he is more and more a cat. 
 
 Int. What fay you to his expertnefs in war ? 
 
 Par. Faith, Sir, h'as led the drum before the Eng~ 
 UJh Tragedians : to belie him, I will not ; and more 
 of his foldierfhip I know not j except, in that Country, 
 he had the honour to be the Officer at a place there 
 call'd Mile-end, to inftrucl for the doubling of files. I 
 would do the man what honour I can, but of this I am 
 not certain. 
 
 1 Lord. He hath out-villain'd villany fo far, that the 
 rarity redeems him. 
 
 Ber. A pox on him, he's a cat ftill. 
 
 Int. His Qualities being at this poor price, I need 
 not to ask you, if gold will corrupt him to revolt. 
 
 Par. Sir, for a Quart-d'ecu^ he will fell the fee-fim- 
 ple of his falvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'in- 
 tail from all remainders, and a perpetual fuccefllon for 
 it perpetually. 
 
 Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Duma'm ? 
 
 2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me ? 
 Int. What's he ? 
 
 Par. E^n a crow o'th' fame neft ; not altogether 
 fo great as the firft in goodnefs, but greater a great deal 
 in evil. He excels his Brother for a Coward, yet his 
 brother is reputed one of the beft that is. In a Retreat 
 he out- runs any lacquey; marry, in coming on he has 
 the cramp. 
 
 Int. If your life befaved, will you undertake to be- 
 tray the Florentine ? 
 
 Par. Ay, and the Captain of his horfe, Count Ron- 
 fitton. 
 
 Int. 1*11 whifper with the General, and know his 
 pleafure. 
 
 Par. I '11 no more drumming, a plague of all drums! 
 
 Only to feem to deferve well, and to beguile the fup- 
 
 pofition of that lafcivious young boy the Count, have 
 
 04 I run
 
 8 8 All's well, that Ends well. 
 
 I run into danger -, yet who would have fufpefted an 
 ambufh where I was taken ? \_Afide. 
 
 Int. There is no remedy, Sir, but you muft die ; the 
 General fays, you, that have fo traiteroufly difcovered 
 the fecrets of your army, and made fuch peftiferout 
 reports of men very nobly held, can ferve the world 
 for no honed ufe ; therefore you muft die. Come, 
 headfman, off with his head. 
 
 Par. O lord, Sir, let me live, or let me fee my 
 death. 
 
 Int. That fhall you, and take your leave of all your 
 friends. [ Unbinding him. 
 
 So, look about you ; know you any here? 
 
 Ber. Good morrow, noble Captain. 
 
 2 Lord. God blefs you, Captain Parolles. 
 
 1 Lord. God fave you, noble Captain. 
 
 2 Lord. Caprain, what Greeting will you to my 
 Lord La feu ? I am for France. 
 
 i Lord. Good Captain, will you give me a copy of 
 that fame Sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the 
 Count Rouftllon ? if I were not a very coward, Pd 
 compel it of you; but fare you well. [Exeunt. 
 
 Int. You are undone, Captain, all but your fcarf ; 
 that has a knot on't yet. 
 
 Par. Who cannot be crufh'd with a Plot ? 
 
 Int. If you could find out a Country where but wo- 
 men were that had receiv'd fo much fhame, you might 
 begin an impudent Nation. Fare you well, Sir, I am 
 for France too, we (hall fpeak of you there. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Par. Yet am I thankful : if my heart were great, 
 S T would burft at this. Captain I'll be no more, 
 But I will eat and drink, and fleep as foft, 
 As Captain fhall. Simply the thing I am 
 Shall make me live : who knows himfelf a braggart, 
 
 Let
 
 All's well, that Ends well 89 
 
 Let him fear this ; for it will come to pafs, 
 
 That every braggart (hall be found an afs. 
 
 Ruft, fword .' cool, bluihes! and, Parollcs* live ^ 
 
 Safeft in fhame! being fool'd, by fool'ry thrive; > 
 
 There's place and means for every man alive. 
 
 I'll after them. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Changes to the Widow's Hoitfe, at Florence. 
 Enter Helena, Widow and Diana. 
 
 Hel. HP HAT you may well perceive I have not 
 
 JL wrong'd you, 
 
 One of the Created in the chriftian world 
 Shall be my Surety; 'fore whofe Throne 'tis needful, 
 Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel. 
 Time was, I did him a defired office 
 Dear almoft as his life , which, gratitude 
 Through flinty Tartar's bofom would peep forth, 
 And anfwer thanks. I duly am inform'd, 
 His Grace is at Marfeittes^ to which place 
 We have convenient Convoy ; you muft know, 
 I am fuppofed dead ; the Army breaking, 
 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 fervant, to whofe trufl 
 Your bufmefs was more welcome. 
 
 Hel. Nor you, Miftrefs, 
 Ever a friend, whofe thoughts more truly labour 
 To recompenfe your love : doubt not, but heav'n 
 Hath brought me up to be your Daughter's dower, 
 As it hath fated her to be 5 my motive 
 
 5 my motive] motivt for affiftaat. 
 
 And
 
 go All's 'welly tliat Ends 
 
 And helper to a husband. But, O ft range men ! 
 That can fuch fweet ufe make of what they hate, 
 
 6 When Fancy, truftingof thecozen'd thoughts, 
 Defiles the pitchy night ; fo luft doth play 
 With what it loaths, for that which is away. 
 But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, 
 (Under my poor inflections) yet muft fuffer 
 Something in my behalf. 
 
 Diana. Let death and honefty 
 Go with your impofitions, I am yours 
 Upon your will to fuffer. 
 
 Hel. Yet I pray you : 
 
 7 But with the word the time will bring on fummer, 
 When briars {hall have leaves as well as thorns, 
 And be as fweet as fharp : we muft away, 
 
 s Our Waggon is prepar'd, and time revyes us j 
 mill's well, that ends well ; ftill the fine's the crown ; 
 Whate'er the courfe, the end is the renown. [Exeunt. 
 
 6 When SAUCY trufling of the cozen d thoughts 
 
 Defiles the pitchy night:] i. g. makes the perfon guilty of intenti- 
 onal adultery. But fruiting a miftake cannot make any one guilty. 
 We fhould read, and point, the lines thus, 
 
 When FANCY, trufting of the cozen d thoughts, 
 
 Defies the pitchy night. 
 
 i. e. the fancy, or imagination, that he by with his miftrefs, tho* 
 it was, indeed, his Wife, made him incur the guilt of adultery. 
 Xrgkt, by the ancients, was reckoned odious, obfcene, and ab<> 
 minable. The Poet, alluding to this, fays, with great beauty, 
 Defiles the f itchy night, i. e. makes the night, more than ordinary, 
 abominable. 
 
 7 Bui with the word, the time will bring on fummer,] With the 
 i:zrd, i. e. in an inftant of time. The Oxford Editor reads (but 
 what he means by it I know not) Rear nuiththe ivord. 
 
 8 Our waggon is pn.pa.rd> and time revives us;] The word Re- 
 vives conveys fo liuie icnfe, that it fcemsvery liable to fufpicion. 
 
 time rcvves us 
 
 i. e, looks us in the face, calls upon us to haftcn. 
 
 SCENE
 
 's well, that Ends well. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Changes to Roufillon in France. 
 Enter Countefs, Lafeu, and Clown. 
 
 XT 
 1/M 
 
 O, no, no, your Son was mif-led with a 
 fnipt-tafFata fellow there, 9 whofe villain- 
 ous fafFron would have made all the unbak'd and dowy 
 youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in- 
 Jaw had been alive at this hour ; and your fon here at 
 
 9 whofe 'villainous faffron would have madt all the unbolt d and 
 dewy youth of a nation in his colour ] Parolles is reprefented as 
 an affefted follower of the fafhion, and an encourager of his matter 
 to run into all the follies of it ; where he fays, Ufe a more fpa- 
 cious ceremony to the noble Lords they wear them/elves in the cap 
 eftime - and the? the Devi/ had the meafure, fuch are to be fol- 
 lowed. Here fome particularities of fafnionable drefs are ridiculed. 
 Snipt-taffata needs no explanation ; but villainous fajfron is more 
 oblcure. This alludes to a phantaftic fafhion, then much follow- 
 ed, of ufmg yellow Jlarch for their bands and ruffs. So Fletcher, 
 in his Queen of Corinth, 
 
 - -- Has he familiarly 
 
 Dijlitfdyour yellow ftarch ; or faid your doublet 
 
 Was not exafily frenchified - 
 And Johnfon > & Devifs an dfs. 
 
 Carmen and cbimny-fweepers are got Into the yellow ftarch. 
 This was invented by one Turner, a 'tire-woman, a court-bawd ; 
 and, in all refpcdls, of fo infamous a character, that her invention 
 dcferved the name of villainous fajfron. This woman was, after- 
 wards, amongft the mifcreants concerned in the murder of Sir Tho- 
 mas Overburyi for which fhe was hanged at Tyburn, and would die 
 inaju&w ruff vi her own invention : which made yellow ftarch fo 
 odiouf, that it immediately went out of fafhion. *Tis this, then, to 
 which Shakefpear alludes: but ufmg the word/a^ron for ye/tow, a 
 pew idea prelented it felf, and he purfues his thought under a quite 
 different allufion Whofe 'villainous faffron would have made 
 all the unbaked and doixy youths of a nation in his colour, i. e. of his 
 temper and difpofition. Here the general cuftom of that time, of 
 colouring pafie with fafFron, is alluded to. So in the Winter s Tale : 
 
 I muft have faffron to colour the warden pyes. 
 
 home,
 
 02 M's W/, /A*/ E*7</j well. 
 
 home, ' more advantaged by the King, than by that 
 red-tail'd humble-bee I fpeak of. 
 
 Count. I would, I had not known him ! it was the 
 death of the moft virtuous Gentlewoman that ever Na- 
 ture had Praife for creating ; if me had partaken of 
 my flefh, and coft me the deareft groans of a Mother, 
 I could not have owed her a more rooted love. 
 
 Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We 
 may pick a thoufand fallets ere we light on fuch ano- 
 ther herb. 
 
 Cto. Indeed, Sir, fhe was the fweet marjoram of the 
 falJer, or rather the herb of grace. 
 
 Laf. They are not fallet-herbs, you knave, they 
 are nofe-herbs. 
 
 Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, Sir, I have 
 not much skill in grafs. 
 
 Laf. Whether doll thou profefs thy felf, a knave 
 or a fool ? 
 
 Clo. A fool. Sir, at a woman's fervice 5 and a 
 knave, at a man's. 
 
 Laf. Your diftinflion ? 
 
 Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his 
 fervice. 
 
 Laf. So you were a knave at his fervice, indeed. 
 
 Clo. And I would give his wife my folly, Sir, to 
 do her fervice. 
 
 Laf. I will fubfcribe for thee, thou art both knave 
 and fool. 
 
 Clo. At your fervice. 
 
 Laf. No, no, no. 
 
 i mtre ADVANCED ly the King,"] A notable obfervation this j 
 that the young Lord had been higher advanced by the King had 
 he ftaid at court, than he was by his beggerly follower Parolles. 
 V/e fhonid read, more ADVANTAGED, i e. the King would have 
 Jjeen a better tutor to the raw young man than Parolles y whofe pro- 
 ftilion it was. 
 
 Clo.
 
 All's <well, that Ends wlL 93 
 
 Clo. Why, Sir, if I cannot ierve you, I can fcrve 
 as great a Prince as you arc. 
 
 Laf. Who's that, a Frenchman ? 
 
 Clo. Faith, Sir, he has an Englijh name ; but his 
 * phifnomy is more honour'd in Frame than there. 
 
 Laf What Prince is that ? 
 
 Clo. The black Prince, Sir, alias the Prince of 
 Darknefs, alias the Devil. 
 
 Laf. Hold thee, there's my purfe ; I give thee not 
 this to feduce thee from thy Mafter thou talk'ft of, 
 ferve him ftill. 
 
 Clo. J Pm a woodland fellow, Sir, that alwayi 
 lov'd a great fire ; and the Mafter I fpeak of ever 
 keeps a good fire ; but, fure, he is the Prince of the 
 world, let his Nobility remain in's Court. I am for 
 the Houfe with the narrow gate, which I take to 
 be too little for Pomp to enter : fome, that humble 
 themfelves, may ; but the many will be too chill and 
 tender, and they'll be for the flow'ry way that leads to 
 the broad gate, and the great fire. 
 
 Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a weary of thee, 
 and I tell thee fo before, becaufe I would not fall out 
 with thee. Go thy ways, let my horfes be well lookM 
 to, without any tricks. 
 
 Clo. If I put any tricks upon *em, they fhall be jades' 
 tricks, which are their own right by the law of Na- 
 ture. [Exit. 
 
 2 his phit'nomy it mart HOTTER, in France than there. ~\ This 
 is intolerable nonfenfe. The itupid Editors, becaufe the Devil was 
 talked of, thought no quality would fuit him but hotter. We 
 
 ihould read, tnore HONOUR'D. A joke upon the French 
 
 people, as if they held a dark complexion, which is natural to 
 them, in more eftimation than the Engli/h do, who are generally 
 white and fair. 
 
 3 Tm a. woodland fellow, Sir, &c.] Sbaktfpear is but rarely 
 guilty of fuch impious tram. And it is obfervable, that then he 
 ahvays puts that into the mouth of hisfoo/t t which is now grown 
 the chara&eriftic of thcfine-gtntleman, 
 
 Laf.
 
 94 dll's 'welly that EfiJs 'well 
 
 Laf. A fhrewd knave, and an unhappy. 
 
 Count. So he is. My Lord, that's gone, made him- 
 felf much fport out of him ; by his authority he re- 
 mains here, which he thinks is a patent for his fawci- 
 nefs ; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he 
 will. 
 
 Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amifs ; and I was 
 about to tell you, fmce I heard of the good Lady's 
 death, and that my Lord your Son was upon his 
 return home, I mov'd the King, my Mafter, to fpeak 
 in the behalf of my Daughter j which, in the minori- 
 ty of them both, his Majefty, out of a felf-gracious 
 remembrance, did firft propoie; his Highnefs hath 
 promis'd me to do it , and to flop up the difpleafure 
 he hath conceived againfl your fon, there is no fitter 
 matter. How do's your Lady (hip like it ? 
 
 Count. With very much content, my Lord 9 and I 
 wifh it happily effected. 
 
 Laf. His Highnefs comes poft from Marfeilles, of 
 as able a body as when he numbered thirty ; he will be 
 here to morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him that in fuch 
 intelligence hath feldom faii'd. 
 
 Count. 4 It rejoices me, that hope, that I fhall fee 
 him ere I die. I have letters, that my fon will be 
 here to night: I flull befeech your Lordihip to remain 
 with me 'till they meet together. 
 
 Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I 
 might fafely be admitted. 
 
 Count. You need but plead your honourable privi- 
 lege. 
 
 Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter ; 
 but, I thank my God, it holds yet. 
 
 4 // rejoices me, that I hope IJhall fee him ere I die.'] It is not 
 hope that rejoices any one ; but, that that hope is well grounded. 
 We fhould read, therefore, It rejoices me t that hope, that 1 Jhall 
 Jet him ere I die. 
 
 Enter
 
 All's well, that EnJs well. 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Ck. O Madam, yonder's my Lord, your fon, with 
 a patch of velvet on's face ; whether there be a fear 
 under'c, 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 check is worn bare. 
 
 Count. A fear nobly got, or a noble fear, is a good 
 livery of honour. t So, belike, is that. 
 
 Clo. 5 But it is your carbinado'd face. 
 
 Laf. Let us go fee your fon, I pray you : I long 
 to talk with the young noble foldier. 
 
 Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em with delicate fine 
 hats and moft courteous feathers, which bow the head, 
 and nod at every man. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 T'he Court of France, at Marfeilles. 
 Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants* 
 
 HELENA. 
 
 BUT this exceeding pofting day and night 
 Muft wear your fpirits low j we cannot help it. 
 But fince you've made the days and nights as one, 
 To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs ; 
 Be bold, you do fo grow in my requital, 
 As nothing can unroot you. In happy time, - 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 This man may help me to his Majefty's ear, 
 
 5; But it h your carbon ado" d face] Mr. Pope reads it carbinadod t 
 which is right:. The joke, fuch as it is, confiits in the allufion to 
 a wound made with a carabine ; arms, which Henry IV. had made 
 famous, by bringing into ufe amongft his horfe.
 
 96 dll's well, that Ends 
 
 If he would fpend his power. God fave you, Sir. 
 Gent. And you. 
 
 HeL Sir, I have feen you in the court of France^ 
 Gent. I have been fometimes there. 
 HeL I do prefume, Sir, that you are not fallen 
 From the report that goes upon your goodnefs ; 
 And therefore, goaded with moft (harp occafions 
 Which lay nice manners by, I put you to 
 The ufe of your own virtues, for'the which 
 I Ihall continue thankful. 
 Gent. What's your will ? 
 HeL That it will pleafe you 
 To give this poor petition to the King; 
 And aid me with that ftore of power you have, 
 To come into his prefence. 
 Gent. The King's not here. 
 HeL Not here, Sir? 
 Gent. Not, indeed. 
 
 He hence remov'd laft night, and with more haftc 
 Than is his ufe. 
 
 Wid. Lord, how we lofe our pains ! 
 HeL All 's well, that ends well yet, 
 Tho* time feem fo adverfe, and means unfit: 
 I do befeech you, whtiher is he gone ? 
 
 Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Roufillon y 
 Whither I'm going. 
 
 HeL I befeech you, Sir, 
 Since you are like to fee the King before me, 
 Commend this paper to his gracious hand ; 
 Which, I prefume, mall render you no blame, 
 But rather make you thank your pains for it. 
 I will come after you with what good fpecd 
 Our means will make us means. 
 Gent. This I'll do for you. 
 HeL And you (hall find yourfelf to be well thank'd, 
 What e'er falls more. We muft to horfe again. 
 Go, go, provide, [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 Alfs <well, tlat Ends well. 97 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to Roufillon. 
 
 Enter Clown, and Parolles. 
 
 OOD Mr. Levatcb t give my Lord Lafeu 
 this letter ; I have ere now, Sir, been better 
 known to you, when I have held familiarity with 
 frefher cloaths ; ' but I am now, Sir, muddied in for- 
 tune's moat, and fmell fomewhat ftrong of her flrong 
 difpleafure. 
 
 Clo. Truly, fortune's difpleafure is but fluttifh, if 
 it fmell fo ftrongly as thou fpeak'ft of: I will hence- 
 forth eat no fim of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee, 
 allow the wind. 
 
 Par. Nay, you need not to flop your nofe, Sir 5 I 
 fpake but by a metaphor. 
 
 Clo. * Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor (link, I will 
 ftop my nofe againil any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee, 
 get thee further. Par. 
 
 1 but I am noiu, Sir, muddied in fortune s Mood, qnd fmell 
 fomenuhat ftrong of 'her flrong difp/eafurt.} I believe the poet wrote, 
 
 in fortune's moat ; becaufe tne Clown in the very next fpeech re- 
 plies, I will henceforth eat no fifh of fortune's buti ring; and again, 
 when he comes to repeat Parolles^ petition to Lafeu, that hatb 
 falTn into the unclean fifhpond of her difp'eafure, and, as he fays, it 
 muddied withal. And again, Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp at yox 
 may, &c. In all which places, 'tis obvious a moat or pond is the 
 allufion. Bcfides, Parolles fmelling ftrong, as he fays, of fortune'* 
 itrong difpleafure, carries on the fame image ; for as the moats round 
 old feats were always replenish' d with fifh,, fo the Clown's joke of 
 holding his nofe, we may prefume, proceeded from this, that the 
 privy was always over the moat ; and therefore the Clown hu 
 mouroufly fays, when Parolles is preiling him to deliver his letter 
 to Lord Lafeu, Fob! pr*ythee, ft and aivay ; a paper from fortifnit 
 clofeitool. to give to a Nobleman! 
 
 2 Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor jlink, I ivill flop my tiofe agaifift 
 I. any mans metaphor.] Nothing could be conceived with greater hu' 
 i znour, or juitnefs of fatire, than this fpeech. The ufe of the 
 
 VOL. III. H
 
 Alts well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this paper. 
 
 Clo. Fob! pr'ythee, (land away, a paper from 
 fortune's clofe-ftool, to give to a Nobleman! look, 
 here he comes himfclf. 
 
 Enter Lafeu. 
 
 Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or fortune's cat, 
 (but not a musk-cat ;) that hath fall'n into the unclean 
 filhpond of her difpleafure, and, as he fays, is mud- 
 died withal. Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp as you may ; 
 Cor he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, .foolifh, 
 rafcally knave. J i do pity his diftrels in my fimilies 
 of comfort, and leave him to your Lordfhip. 
 
 Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath 
 cruelly fcratch'd. 
 
 Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too 
 late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd 
 the knave with fortune, that me mould fcratch you, 
 who of herfelf is a good Lady, and would not have 
 knaves thrive long under her? there's a Quart-d'ccu 
 fijr you : let the juftices make you and fortune friends ; 
 I am for other bufmefs. 
 
 Jlinking metaphors is an odious fault, which grave writers often com- 
 mit. It is not uncommon to fee moral declaimers againft vice, 
 defcribc her as Hejlad did the Fury Trijlilia: 
 
 Tti? ..t pii'fc'c juJrst' pkov. 
 
 Upon which Longinus juilly obferves, that, inftead of giving a terrible 
 image, he has given a very naily one. Cicero cautions well againft 
 it, in his book a'eOrat. Quoniam hf?c, fays he, <vel fumma laus eft in 
 urrbis transferendh ut fenjum feriat id, quod tranjlatum fit, fugienda 
 eft omnis turfiludo earum rerun, ad quas eorum animos qui auetiunt 
 trabet fimilitudo, Nola morte diet Africani caflratam ejfe rempubli- 
 cam Nolo itercus curia; did Glauciam. Our poet himfelf is ex- 
 tremely delicate in this refpeftj who, throughout his large writings, 
 if you except a paftage in Hamlet , has fcarce a metaphor that can 
 offend the moll fqueamiih reader. 
 
 3 / pity his dijlrefs in my SMILES of comfort,] We (hould read, 
 si Mi LIES of comfort, fuch as the calling him fort unit cat, carp, &c. 
 
 Par,
 
 Alfs 'well, that Ends 'well. 
 
 Par. I befeech your honour, to hear me one fingle 
 word. 
 
 Laf. You beg a fingle penny more: come, you 
 fhall ha't, fave your word. 
 
 Par. My name, my good Lord, is Parottes. 
 
 Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox* 
 my paflion ! give me your hand : how does your 
 drum? 
 
 Par. O my good lord, you were the firft that 
 found me. 
 
 Laf. Was I, infooth ? and I was the firft that loft 
 thee. 
 
 Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in fome 
 grace, for you did bring me out. 
 
 Laf. Out upon thee, knave ! doft 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. 
 [Sound Trumpets."] The King's coming, 1 know, by 
 his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had 
 talk of you laft night ; tho* you are a fool and a 
 knave, you lhall eat ; go to, follow. 
 
 Par. I praife God for you. [Exeunt i 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Flourijb. Enter King, Countefs, Lafeu, the two French 
 with Attendants, 
 
 King. We loft a jewel of her, 4 our efteem 
 Was made much poorer by it ; but your fon, 
 As mad in folly, lack'd the fenfe to know 
 Her eftimation home. 
 
 Count. *Tis paft, my Liege ; 
 And I befeech your Majefty to make it 
 
 4 - our efteem] Efteem is here ufed for ejtimation, in the 
 fenfe of worth, eftate 
 
 H 2 Natu-
 
 ico difs welly that Ends well. 
 
 * Natural rebellion, done i'th* blade of youth, 
 When oil and fire, too ftrong for reafon's force, 
 O'erbears it, and burns on. 
 
 King. My honour'd Lady, 
 I have forgiven and forgotten all ; 
 Tho* my revenges were high bent upon him, 
 And watch'd the time to fhoot. 
 
 Laf. This I muft fay, 
 
 But firft I beg my pardon ; the young Lord 
 Did to his Majefty, his mother, and his lady, 
 Offence of mighty note ; but to himfelf 
 The greateft wrong of all. He loft a wife, 
 Whole beauty did aftonifh the furvey 
 Of richeft eyes ; whofe words all ears took captive ; 
 Whofe dear perfection, hearts, that fcorn'd to ferve, 
 Humbly cali'd miftrefs. 
 
 King. Praifing what is loft, 
 
 Makes the remembrance dear. Well call him 
 
 hither ; 
 
 We're reconcil'd, and the firft view mall kill 
 All repetition : let him not ask our pardon. 
 The nature of his great offence is dead, 
 And deeper than oblivion we do bury 
 Th* incenfing relicks of it. Let him approach, 
 A ftranger, no offender -, and inform him, 
 So 'tis our will he mould. 
 
 Gent. I mall, my Liege. 
 
 King. What fays he to your daughter? Have you 
 fpoke ? 
 
 Laf. All, that he is, hath reference to your Highnefs. 
 
 5 Natural rebellion, donei'tb" BLADE of youth,'] The whole fi- 
 gure here emplcy'd fhe\vs we (hould read, 
 
 f th' BLAZB of youth, 
 
 i. f, in fervour, flame. So in Tnilut and CreJfiJa, 
 
 For Heftor, in hit blaze of <wratb, fubfcribtt 
 
 Tf tfndtr objtfts 
 
 King.
 
 well, that Ends luelh 1 1 
 
 J> 
 King. Then mall we have a match., j have letter?, 
 
 fent me, : , . i 
 
 That fet him high in fame. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Bertram. 
 
 Laf. He looks well on't. 
 
 King. Pm not a day of feafon, 
 For thou may'ft fee a fun-mine and a hail 
 In me at once ; but to the brighteft beams 
 Diftracted clouds give way j fo ftand 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 confumed time, 
 Let's take the inftant by the forward top ; 
 For we are old, and on our quick'ft decrees 
 Th' inaudible and noifelefs foot of time 
 Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember 
 The daughter of this Lord ? 
 
 Ber. Admiringly, my Liege. At firft 
 I ftuck my choice upon her, ere my heart 
 Durft make too bold a herald of my tongue : 
 Where the impreflion of mine eye enfixing, 
 Contempt his fcornful perfpeetive did lend me, 
 Which warp'd the line of every other favour ; 
 * Scorch'd a fair colour, or exprefs'd it ftoll'ns 
 
 Extended 
 
 6 ScORN'nayinV colour, or exprefid it J)o!rn;~] firft t it is to 
 be obferved, that this young man's cafe was not indifference to the 
 fex in general, bat a very itrong attachment to one ; therefore he 
 could not /corn a fair colour, for it was that which had captivated 
 him. But he might very naturally be faid to do what men, ftrongly 
 attach'd to one, commonly do, not allow beauty in any face but 
 his iniRrefs's. And that this was the thought here, is evident, 
 H 3 I. From
 
 All's well, that Ends <welL 
 
 ' .Exten'ded &T contracted all proportions 
 T-e.a.moft hideous obji-cl: : thence it came, 
 ^hat-'lBe,- -Wbbm 4ll men prais'd, and whom myfelf, 
 Since I have loft, have lov'd, was in mine eye 
 The duft that did offend it. 
 
 King. Well excus'd : 
 
 That thou do'ft love her, ftrikes fome fcores away 
 From the great 'compt , but love, that comes too late, 
 Like a remorfeful pardon {lowly carried, 
 To the great fender turns a ibwre offence, 
 Crying, that's good that is gone: our ram faults 
 7 Make trivial price of ferious things we have, 
 Not knowing them, until we know their grave. 
 Oft our difpleafures, to ourfelves unjuft, 
 Deftroy our friends, and, after, weep their duft : 
 
 1 . From the latter part of the verfe, 
 
 or exprefs'd it Jloirn ; 
 
 2. From the proceeding verie, 
 
 Which ivarp'd the line cf every other favour J 
 
 3. From the following verfes, 
 
 Extended or contracted all proportions 
 
 a moft hideous cbjefi : < 
 
 Secondly, It is to be obferved, that he defcribes his indifference 
 for others in highly figurative exprefllons. Contempt is brought in 
 lending him her perfpe&ive-glafs, which does its office properly by 
 Carping the lines of all other faces ; by extending or contraShg into 
 a hideous objeS ; or by expreffing or mewing native red and white 
 as paint. But with what propriety of fpeech can this glak be faid 
 to f corn, which is an affettion of the mind ? Here then the meta- 
 phor becomes miferably mangled ; but the foregoing obfervation 
 will lead us to the genuine reading, which is, 
 
 SCORCH'D a fair colour, or expreffd itjlojl'x; 
 i. e. this glafs reprefented the owner as brown or tanned ; or, if 
 not fo, caufed the native colour to appear artificial Thus he fpeaks 
 in character, and confiftently with the reft of his fpeech. The 
 emendation reftores integrity to the figure, and, by a beautiful 
 thought, makes the fcornful perfpeftive of contempt do the office of 
 a burning gla/s . 
 
 7 Make tn-vial price of ferious things ~\ Serious for valuable. 
 
 In this, fenfe a certain Prebendary of Wejlminfter underflood the word, 
 wben he ufed to tell his friends, A Jhilltng ivas a/erious thing. 
 
 Our
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 103 
 
 Our own love waking cries to fee what's done, 
 While fhameful hate fleeps out the afternoon. 
 Be this fweet Helen's knell ; and now, forget her. 
 Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin^ 
 The main contents are had, and here we'll (lay 
 To fee our widower's fecond marriage-day : 
 
 Count. Which better than the firft, O dear heav'n, 
 
 blefs, 
 Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, ceafe! 
 
 Laf. Come on, my (on, in whom my houle's name 
 Muft be digefted : give a favour from you 
 To fparkle in the fpirits of my daughter, 
 That (he may quickly come. By my old beard, 
 And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, 
 Was a fweet creature : fuch a ring as this, 
 The lad that ere (he took her leave at court, 
 I faw upon her finger. 
 
 Ber. Her's it was not. 
 
 King. Now, pray you, let me fee it : For mine eye, 
 While I was fpeaking, oft was faften'd to't. 
 This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen > 
 I bad her, if her fortunes ever flood 
 Neceffitied to help, that by this token 
 I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her 
 Of what fhould (lead her mod ? 
 
 Ber. My gracious Sovereign, 
 Howe'er it pleafes you to take it fo, 
 The ring was never her's. 
 
 Count. Son, on my life, 
 I've feen her wear it, and (he reckoned it 
 At her life's rate. 
 
 Laf. I'm fure, I faw her wear it. 
 
 Ber. You are deceiv'd, my Lord, fhe never faw it; 
 In Florence was it from a cafement thrown me, 
 Wrap'd in a paper, which conrain'd the name 
 Of her that threw it : Noble (he was, and thought 
 I flood engag'd ; but when I had iubfcrib'd 
 
 H 4 To
 
 ic 4 dX* well, that End 
 
 To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, 
 1 could not anfwer in that courfe of honour 
 As Ihe had made the overture, Ihe ceaft 
 In heavy fatisfa&ion, and would never 
 Receive the ring again. 
 
 King. Plutus himfelf, 
 
 That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, 
 Hath not in nature's myflery more fcience, 
 Than I have in this ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helen's* 
 Whoever gave it you: 8 then if you know, 
 That you are well acquainted with yourfelf, 
 Confefs 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement 
 You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to furety, 
 That me would never put it from her finger, 
 Unlefs me gave it to yourfelf in bed, 
 (Where you have never comej or fent it us 
 Upon her great difafter. 
 
 Ber. She never faw it. 
 
 King. Thou fpeak'ft it falfely, as I love mine 
 
 honour ; 
 
 And mak'ft conjecVral fears to come into me, 
 Which I would fain fhut out j if it mould prove 
 That thou art fo inhuman 'twill not prove fo 
 And yet I know not thou didft hate her deadly, 
 And (he is dead j which nothing, but to clofe 
 Her eyes myfelf, could win me to believe, 
 More than to fee this ring. Take him away. 
 
 [Guards feize Bertram. 
 
 My fore- pad proofs, howe'er the matter fall, 
 Shall tax my fears of little vanity, 
 Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him, 
 We'll lift this matter further. 
 
 Ber. If you Ihall prove, 
 This ring was ever hers, you mall as eafie 
 
 then if you knoiu. 
 
 That you are well acquainted with yourfelf, "} i. e. then if you 
 be wife. A ftrange way of expreffing fo trivial a thought ! 
 
 Prove
 
 Alls welly flat Ends well. 105 
 
 Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, 
 Where yet (he never was. [Exit Bertram guarded, 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 
 King. I'm wrap'd in difmal thinkings. 
 
 Gent. Gracious Sovereign, 
 Whether I've been to blame or no, I know not: 
 Here's a petition from a Florentine, 
 9 Who hath fome four or five removes come fhort 
 To tender it herfelf. I undertook it, 
 Vanquilh'd thereto by the fair grace and fpeech 
 Of the poor fuppliant, who by this, I know, 
 Is here attending : her bufinefs looks in her 
 With an importing vifoge ; and me told me, 
 In a fweet verbal brief, it did concern 
 Your Highnefs with herfelf. 
 
 The King reads a letter. 
 
 Upon bis many proteftations to marry me^ when bis 
 wife was dead, I Uujh to fay it, be won me. Now is 
 the Count Roufillon a widower, bis vows are forfeited 
 to me, and my honour's paid to him. He jlole from 
 Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to this 
 country for jujlice : grant it me, King, in you it beft 
 lyes ; otherwise a feducer fourijhes t and a poor maid is 
 undone. 
 
 Diana Capulet. 
 
 Laf. I will buy me a fon-in-law in a fair, and toll 
 for him. For this, I'll none of him. 
 
 9 Who hath F OK four or five removes tome Jhert\ We (hould 
 read, Who bath SOME four or five removes come Jhort. 
 So in King Lear, 
 
 For that 1 am SO\JE twelve or fourteen mion/binei 
 Lag of a brother, '- 
 
 King.
 
 106 d.lts welly that Ends 
 
 King. The heavens have thought well on thee, 
 
 La/eii, 
 
 To bring forth this difcov'ry. Seek thefe fuitors: 
 Go fpeedily, and bring again the Count. 
 
 Enter Bertram. 
 
 I am afraid, the life of Helen (lady) 
 Was foully fnatch'd. 
 
 Count. Now juftice on the doers! 
 
 King. I wonder, Sir, wives are fo monftrous to 
 
 you, 
 
 And that you fly them as you fwear to them ; 
 Yet you defire to wed. What woman's that? 
 
 Enter Widow and Diana. 
 
 Dia. I am, my Lord, a wretched Florentine^ 
 Derived from the ancient Capulet ; 
 My fuit, as I do underftand, you know, 
 And therefore know how far I may be pitied. 
 
 Wul. I am her mother, Sir, whofe age and honour 
 Both fufter under this complaint we bring, 
 And both mail ceafe without your remedy. 
 
 King. Come hither, Count j do you know thefe 
 women ? 
 
 Ber. My Lord, I neither can, nor will, deny 
 But that I know them ; do they charge me further ? 
 
 Dia. Why do you look fo ftrange upon your wife ? 
 
 Ber. She's none of mine, my Lord. 
 
 Dia. If you fhall marry, 
 You give away this hand, and that is mine; 
 You give away heav'n's vows, and thofe are mine 5 
 You give away myfelf, which is known mine; 
 For I by vow am fo embodied yours, 
 That me, which marries you, mult marry me, 
 Either both or none. 
 
 Laf. Your reputation comes too fhort for my 
 daughter, you are no husband for her. [To Bertram.
 
 Alts welly that Ends well. 107 
 
 Eer. My Lord, this is a fond and defp'rate creature, 
 Whom fometime I have laugh'd with: let your 
 
 Highnefs 
 
 Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour, 
 Than for to think that I would fink 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. What fay'ft thou to her? 
 
 Eer. She's impudent, my Lord 5 
 And was a common gamefter to the camp. 
 
 Dia. He does me wrong, my Lord ; if I were fo, 
 He might have bought me at a common price. 
 Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, 
 Whofe high refpect and rich validity 
 Did lack a parallel : yet for all that, 
 He gave it to a commoner o'th' camp, 
 If I be one. 
 
 Count, He blufhes, and 'tis his : 
 Of fix preceding anceftors, that gemm 
 Conferr'd by Teftament to th* fequent iflue, 
 Hath it been ovv'd and worn. This is his wife, 
 That ring's a thoufand proofs. 
 
 King Methought, you faid, 
 You faw one here in Court could witnefs it. 
 
 Dia. I did, my Lord, but loth am to produce 
 So bad an instrument ; his name's Parolles. 
 
 Laf. I faw the man to day, if man he be. 
 
 King. Find him, and bring him hither. 
 
 Eer. What of him ? 
 He's quoted for a mod perfidious Have, 
 With all the fpots o'th' world tax'd and debofh'd, 
 Which nature fickens with: but to fpeak truth, 
 
 Am
 
 All's 'well, that Ends well. 
 
 Am I or that or this, for what he'll utter, 
 That will fpcak any thing? 
 
 King. She hath that ring of yours. 
 
 Ber. I think, (he has ; certain it is, I lik'd her. 
 And boarded her i'th* wanton way of youth : 
 She knew her diftance, and did angle for me, 
 Madding my eagernefs with her reftraint ; 
 As all impediments in fancy's courfe 
 Are motives of more fancy : and in fine, 
 Her infuit coming with her modern grace, 
 Subdu'd me to her rate : me got the ring \ 
 And I had That, which any inferior might 
 At market-price have bought. 
 
 Dia. I muft be patient : 
 You, that turn'd off a firft fo noble wife, 
 May juftly x diet me. I pray you yet, 
 (Since you lack virtue, I will lofe 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 like the fame upon your finger. 
 
 King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. 
 
 Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. 
 
 King. The ftory then goes falfe, you threw it him 
 Out of a cafement. 
 
 Dia. I have fpoke the truth. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Parolles. 
 
 Ber. My Lord, I do confefs, the ring was hers. 
 King. You boggle fhrewdly, every feather ftarts 
 you! 
 
 i diet me. ] /'. e. ufe me fcarfhly. A phrafe taken from 
 the fevere methods taken in curing the venereal difordtr. 
 
 Is
 
 All's well, that Ends well. 109 
 
 Is this the man you fpeak of? 
 
 Dia. It is, my Lord. 
 
 King. Tell me, Sirrah, but tell me true, I charge 
 
 you, 
 
 Not fearing the difpleafure of your matter, 
 Which on your juft proceeding I'll keep off; 
 By him and by this woman here, what know you ? 
 
 Par. So pleafe your Majefty, my mailer hath been 
 an honourable Gentleman. Tricks he hath had in 
 him, which Gentlemen have. 
 
 King. Come, come, to the purpofe j did he love this 
 Woman ? 
 
 Par. 'Faith, Sir, he did love her j 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 lov'd her, Sir, and lov'd her not, 
 
 King. As thou art a knave, and no knave ; what 
 an equivocal companion is this ? 
 
 Par. I am a poor man, and at your Majefty's 
 Command. 
 
 Laf. He's a good drum, my Lord, but a naughty 
 Orator. 
 
 Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? 
 
 Par, 'Faith, I know more than I'll fpeak. 
 
 King. But wilt thou not fpeak all thou know'ft? 
 
 Par. Yes, fo pleafe your Majefly. I did go between 
 them, as I faid j but more than that, he lov'd her : 
 for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talk'd 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 promifmg her marriage, and things that would 
 derive me ill will to fpeak of; therefore I will not 
 fpeak what I know.
 
 1 1 o Alts well, that Ends well. 
 
 King. Thou haft fpoken all already, unlefsthoucan'fl 
 fay they are married ; but thou art too fine in thy 
 evidence ; therefore (land afide. This ring, you fay, 
 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 did I buy it. 
 
 King. Who lent it you ? 
 
 Dia. It was not lent me neither. 
 
 King. Where did you find it then ? 
 
 Dia. I found it not. 
 
 King. If it were yours by none of all thefe ways, 
 How could you give it him ? 
 
 Dia. I never gave it him. 
 
 Laf. This woman's an eafie glove, my Lord, fhe 
 goes off and on at pleafure. 
 
 King. This ring was mine, I gave it his firft wife. 
 
 Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I 
 know. 
 
 King. Take her away, I do not like her now; 
 To prifon with her: and away with him. 
 Unlefs thou tell'ft me where thou hadft this ring, 
 Thou dieft within this hour. 
 
 Dia. I'll never tell you. 
 
 King. Take her away. 
 
 Dia. I'll put in bail, my Liege. 
 
 King. I think thee now fome common cuftomer. 
 
 Dia. By Jove^ if ever I knew man, 'twas you. 
 
 King. Wherefore haft thou accus'd him all this 
 while? 
 
 Dia. Bccaufe he's guilty, and he is not guilty ; 
 He knows, I am no maid, and he'll fwear to'tj 
 I'll fwear, I am a maid, and he knows not. 
 Great King, I am no ftrumpet, by my life ; 
 I'm either maid, or elfe this old man's wife. 
 
 [Pointing to Lafeu. 
 King.
 
 All's welly that Ends <well. 
 
 King. She does abufe our ears ; to prifon with her. 
 
 Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal Sir. 
 
 [Exit Widow. 
 
 The jeweller, that owes the ring, is fent tor, 
 And he fhall furety me. But for this Lord, 
 
 III 
 
 [to Bertram* 
 imfelf, 
 
 Who hath abus'd me, as he knows him 
 Tho' yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him. 
 He knows himfelf, my bed he hath defiPd, 
 And at that time he got his wife with child ; 
 Dead tho' me be, me feels her young one kick : 
 So there's my riddle ; one, that's dead, is quick. 
 And now behold the meaning. 
 
 Enter Helena, and Widow. 
 
 King. Is there no Exorcift 
 Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes ? 
 Is't real, that I fee ? 
 
 HeL No, my good Lord, 
 'Tis but a fhadow of a wife you fee, 
 The name, and not the thing. 
 
 JBer. Both, both; oh, pardon! 
 
 HeL Oh, my good Lord, when I was like this 
 
 maid, 
 
 I found you wond'rous kind ; there is your ring, ' 
 And look you, here's your letter: this it fays, 
 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 me, my Liege, can make me know this 
 
 clearly, 
 I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. 
 
 HeL If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, 
 Deadly divorce ftep between me and you ! 
 O my dear mother, do I fee you living ? 
 
 [to the Countefs. 
 
 Laf.
 
 1 2 J TW //, 
 
 Z,d/. Mine eyes fmell onions, I mall weep anon ? 
 Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkerchief* 
 
 [To Parolles. 
 
 So, I thank thee, wait on me home. I'll make fport 
 with thee : lee thy courtefies alone, they are fcurvy 
 ones. 
 
 King. Let us from point to point this flory know, 
 To make the even truth in pleafure flow : 
 If thou beeft yet a frefh uncropped flower, 
 
 [To Diana. 
 
 Chufe thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower j 
 For I can guefs, that, by thy honeft aid, 
 Thou kept'ft a wife herfelf, thyfelf a maid. 
 Of that and all the progrefs more and Iefs 9 
 Refolvedly more leifure fhall exprefs: 
 All yet feems well ; and if it end fo meet, 
 The bitter paft, more welcome is the fweet. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 E P I-
 
 EPILOGUE, 
 
 Spoken by the K I N G. 
 
 tT* H E King's a beggar, now the play is done* 
 
 All is well ended, ifthisfuit be won > 
 That you exprefs content j which we will pay, 
 With Jt rife to pleafe you, day exceeding day -, 
 Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts $ 
 Tour gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 TWELFTH*
 
 fWE L FTH-NIGH 
 
 O R, 
 
 WHAT YOU WILL. 
 
 I 2
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONM. 
 
 O RSI NO, Duke of Illyria. 
 
 Sebaftian, a young Gentleman, Brother to Viola. 
 
 Antonio, a Sea-captain 9 Friend to Sebaftian. 
 
 Valentine, 7 
 
 p . j Gentlemen, attending on we Duke. 
 
 Sir Toby Belch, Uncle to Olivia. 
 
 Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, a feolijb Knight, pretending 
 
 to Olivia. 
 
 A Sea- captain, Friend to Viola. 
 Fabian, Servant to Olivia. 
 Malvolio, a fantaftical Steward to Olivia. 
 Clown, Servant to Olivia. 
 
 Olivia, a 'Lady of great Beauty and Fortune, belov'd 
 
 by the Duke. 
 
 Viola, in love with the Duke. 
 Maria, Olivia's Woman* 
 
 Prieft, Sailors, Officers, and other Attendants. 
 SCENE, a City on the Co aft of Illyria. 
 
 LFTH-
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT: 
 
 OR, 
 
 WHAT YOU WILL. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Me PALACE. 
 
 Enter the Duke, Curio, and Lords. 
 
 DUKE. 
 
 F mufick be the food of love, play on -, 
 Give me excefs of it ; * that, forfeiting 
 The appetite, Love may ficken, and fo 
 die. Hall: 
 
 * That ftrain again ; it had a clying 
 ' O, it came o'er my ear, like the fweet fouth, 
 
 " That 
 
 1 that, forfeiting 
 
 The Appetite mayjicken, and fo die.] There is an impropriety 
 of expreflion in the prefent reading of this fine paffage. We do 
 not fay, that the appetite /ickens and dies thro 1 a forfeit ; but the 
 fubjecl of that appetite. I am perfuaded, a word is accidentally 
 dropt j and that we Khould read, and point, the paflage thus, 
 
 that, forfeiting 
 
 The appetite, LOVB mayjicken, and fo die. 
 
 2 That ftrain again ; it had a dying fall: 
 O ! it came o'er my tar, likt the fiueet futb, 
 
 I 3 That
 
 TWELPTH-N IGHT : Of, 
 
 " That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 
 u Stealing, and giving odour. Enough ! no more ; 
 
 'Tis not fo fweet now, as it was before. 
 
 O fpirit of love, how quick and frefh art thou! 
 
 That, notwithftanding thy capacity 
 
 Receiveth as the fea, nought enters there, 
 
 Of what validity and pitch foe'er, 
 
 But falls into abatement and low price, 
 
 Even in a minute; J fo full of (hapes in fancy, 
 
 That it alone is hight fantaftical. 
 
 Cur. 
 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 
 Stealing and giving odour ] Amongft the beauties of 
 
 this charming umilitude, its exadt propriety is not the leafl. For, 
 as a ibuth wind, while blowing over a violet-bank, wafts away 
 the odour of the flowers, it, at the fame time, communicates its 
 own fweetnefs to it ; fo the foft affefting mufick, here defcribed, 
 tho' it takes away the natural, fweet, tranquillity of the mind, yet, 
 at the fame time, it communicates a new pleafure to it. Or, it 
 may allude to another property of mufick, where the fame ftrains 
 have a power to excite pain or pleafure, as the ftate is, in which 
 it finds the hearer. Hence Milton makes the felf-fame ftrains 
 of Orpheus proper to excite both the affections of mirth and melan- 
 choly, jull as the mind is then difpofed. If to mirth, he calls for 
 fuch mufick, 
 
 That Orpheus' felf may heave bis bead 
 
 From golden Jlumbers on a bed 
 
 Ofheapt ElyfianjJorwers, and hear 
 
 Such ftrains as -would have 'won the ear 
 
 Of Pluto, to have quite fet free 
 
 His half-regain WEurydice. L'allegro. 
 If to melancholy 
 
 Or bid the foul of Orpheus fing 
 
 Such notes as warbled to the firing, 
 
 Drew iron tears dovon Pluto' j cheek, 
 
 And made Hell grant what love aid feek. II penferofo. 
 3 So full of Jb apes is fancy, 
 
 That it alone is HiGH/antaftical.] This complicated nonfenfe 
 mould be rectified thus, 
 
 So full ofjhapes \ N fancy, 
 
 That it alone is MIGHT fantajlical, 
 
 i. e. love is fo full of mapes infancy, that the name of 'fantajlical is 
 peculiarly given to it alone. 
 
 But,
 
 you ay///. 1 1 9 
 
 Cur. Will you go hunt, my Lord ? 
 
 D0&. What, Curio? 
 
 Cur. The hart. 
 
 Duke. Why, To I do, the nobleft that I have: 
 O, when my Eyes did fee Olivia firft, 
 Methought, fhe purg'd the air of peftilence ; 
 That inftant was I turn*d into a hart, 
 And my defires, like fell and cruel hounds, 
 E'er fmce purfue me. How now, what news from her ? 
 
 Enter Valentine. 
 
 Vol. So pleafe my Lord, I might not be admitted, 
 But from her hand-maid do return this anfwer : 
 The element itfelf, 'till feven years hence, 
 Shall not behold her face at ample view ; 
 But, like a cloyftrefs, fhe will veiled walk, 
 And water once a day her chamber round 
 With eye-offending brine : all this to feafon 
 A brother's dead love, which fhe would keep frefli 
 And lafting in her fad remembrance. 
 
 Duke. O, fhe, that hath a heart of that fine frame* 
 To pay this debt of love but to a brother, 
 How will fhe love, when the rich golden fhaft 
 Hath kill'd the flock of all affeftions elfe 
 That live in her? when liver, brain, and heart, 
 4 Three fov'reign thrones, are all fupply'd, and fill'd, 
 ( s O fweet perfection !) with one felf-fame King ! 
 
 But, for the old nonfenfe, the Oxford Editor gives us his new. 
 
 So full tf Jhapes is fancy, 
 
 And thou all oer art high fantaftical, Says the Critic. 
 
 4 THESE fo<v reign thrones] We fhould read THREE /ov'~ 
 reign thrones. Thii is exa&ly in the manner of Sbakefpear. So, 
 afterwards, in this play, Thy tongue, thy face, tfy limbs, afiions t 
 and fpit-it, do give tbee fivefold blazon. 
 
 5 HER fweet perfeflions /] We (hould read, and point it thus, 
 (O fweet perfettion !) 
 
 I 4 Away
 
 2O TwELFTH-NlGHT : Or, 
 
 Away before me to fweet beds of flowers ; 
 Love-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowers, 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 The Street. 
 
 Enter Viola, a Captain and Sailors, 
 
 Flo. \\ /HAT country, friends, is this ? 
 W Cap. Illyria, Lady. 
 
 Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria ? 
 
 My brother he is in Elyfium. 
 
 Perchance, he is not drown'd ; what think you, failors ? 
 
 Cap. It is perchance, that you yourfelf were fav'd. 
 
 Vio. O my poor brother ! fo, perchance, may he be. 
 
 Cap. True, Madam : and to comfort you with 
 
 chance, 
 
 Allure yourfelf, after our fhip did fplit, 
 When you, and that poor number fav'd with you* 
 Hung on our driving boat : I faw your brother, 
 Moft provident in peril, bind himfelf 
 (Courage and hope both teaching him .the practice) 
 To a ftrong maft, that liv'd upon the fea ; 
 Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 
 J faw him hold acquaintance with the waves, 
 So long as I could fee. 
 
 Vio. For faying fo, there's gold. 
 Mine own efcape unfoldeth to my hope, 
 Whereto thy fpeech ferves for authority, 
 The like of him. Know'ft thou this country ? 
 
 Cap. Ay, Madam, well ; for I was bred and born, 
 Not three hours travel from this very place. 
 
 Vio. Who governs here ? 
 
 Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name. 
 
 Vio. What is his name ? 
 
 Cap. Orfino. 
 
 Vio.
 
 What you 'will. 121 
 
 Via. Orfino ! I have heard my father name him : 
 He was a batchelor then. 
 
 Cap. And fo is now, or was fo very late ; 
 For but a month ago 1 went from hence, 
 And then 'twas frefh in murmur (as you know, 
 What Great ones do, the lefs will prattle of) 
 That he did feek the love of fair Olivia. 
 
 Vw. What's me ? 
 
 Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count, 
 That dy'd fome twelve months fince, then leaving her 
 In the protection of his fon, her brother, 
 Who mortly alfo dy'd , for vvhofe dear love, 
 They fay, me hath abjur'd the fight 
 And company of men. 
 
 Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady, 
 And might not be deliver'd to the world, 
 'Till I had made mine own occafion mellow 
 What my eftate is ! 
 
 Cap. That were hard to compafs ; 
 Becaufeme will admit no kind offuit, 
 No, not the Duke's. 
 
 Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain ; 
 And tho* that nature with a beauteous wall 
 Doth oft clofe in pollution ; yet of thee, 
 I will believe, thou haft a mind that fuits 
 With this thy fair and outward character : 
 I pr'ythee, and I'll pay thee bounteoufly, 
 Conceal me what I am, and be my aid 
 For fuch difguife as, haply, mall become 
 The form of my intent. I'll ferve this Duke , 
 Thou malt prefent me as an eunuch to him, 
 It may be worth thy pains ; for I can fing, 
 And fpeak to him in many forts of mufick, 
 That will allow me very worth his fervice, 
 What elfe may hap, to time I will commit ; 
 Only fhape thou thy filence to my wit. 
 
 Cap.
 
 122 T W E L F T H - N I G H T : Or, 
 
 Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be : 
 When my tongue blabs, then Jet mine eyes not fee. 
 Vio. I thank thee ; lead me on. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 An Apartment in Olivia'* Houfe. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Maria. 
 
 Sir To. \\7 H A T a plague means my neice, to take 
 VV the death of her brother thus ? I am 
 fure, care's an enemy to life. 
 
 Mar. By my troth, Sir foby, you muft come in ear- 
 lier a-nights , your neice, my lady, takes great excep- 
 tions to your ill hours. 
 
 Sir -To. Why, let her except, before excepted. 
 
 Afar. Ay, but you muft confine yourfelf within the 
 modeft limits of order. 
 
 Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myfelf no finer than I 
 am; thefe cloaths are good enough to drink in, and fo 
 be thefe boots too ; an they be not, let them hang 
 themfelves in their own ftraps. 
 
 Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you ; 
 I heard my lady talk of it yefterday, and of a foolifh 
 Knight that you brought in one night here, to be her 
 wooer. 
 
 Sir To. Who, Sir Andrew Jgue-cheek ? 
 
 Mar. Ay, he. 
 
 Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. 
 
 Mar. What's that to th f purpofe ? 
 
 Sir To. Why, he has three thoufand ducats a year. 
 
 Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all thefe du- 
 cats: he's a very fool and a prodigal. 
 
 Sir To. Fie, that you'll fay fo ! he plays o'ch' viol- 
 degambo, and fpeaks three or four languages word for 
 word without book, and hath all the good gifts of na- 
 ture. 
 
 Mar.
 
 What you w. , 2 ~ 
 
 Mar. He hath, indeed, almoft natural ; forbe- 
 fides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller ; and but 
 that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the guft he 
 hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, 
 he would quickly have the gift of a grave. 
 
 Sir To. By this hand, they are fcoundrels and fub- 
 traftors that fay fo of him. Who are they ? 
 
 Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly 
 in your company. 
 
 Sir To. With drinking healths to my neice : I'll 
 drink to her as long as there's a pafTage in my throat, 
 and drink in lllyria. He's a coward, and a coyftril, 
 that will not drink to my neice 'till his brains turn 
 o'th' toe like a parifh-top. What, wench ? 6 Cajlilia* 
 no Volto 5 for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir And. Sir Toby Belch ! how now, Sir Toby Belch ? . 
 Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew ! 
 Sir And. Blefs you, fair fhrew. 
 Mar. And you too, Sir. 
 Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew^ accoft. - 
 
 Sir And. What's that? 
 Sir To. My neice's chamber-maid. 
 Sir And. Good miftrefs Accoft 9 I defire better ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 Mar. My name is Mary, Sir. 
 
 Sir And. Good miftrefs Mary Accoft y 
 
 6 Caftiliano vulgo ;] We fhould read volto. In Engli/b, put on 
 your Caftilian countenance; that is, your grave, folemn looks. 
 The Oxford Editor has taken my emendation : But, by Caflilian 
 countenance, he fuppofes is meant moft civil and courtly looks. It 
 is plain, he underftands gravity and formality to be civility and 
 courtlincfs. 
 
 Sir
 
 TwELFTH-NlGHT : Or, 
 
 Sir To. You miftake, Knight : accoft, is, front her, 
 board her, wooe her, affail her. 
 
 Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in 
 this company. Is that the meaning of accoft ? 
 
 Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. 
 
 Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew^ would 
 thou might'ft never draw fword again. 
 
 Sir And. An you part fo, miftrefs, I would I 
 might never draw fword again. Fair lady, do you 
 think, you have fools in hand ? 
 
 Mar. Sir, I have not you by th' hand. 
 
 Sir And. Marry, but you mail have, and here's my 
 hand. 
 
 Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring 
 your hand to th* buttery-bar, and let it drink. 
 
 Sir And. Wherefore, fweet heart ? what's your me- 
 taphor ? 
 
 Mar. It's dry, Sir. 
 
 Sir And. Why, I think fo : I am not fuch an afs, 
 but I can keep my hand dry. But what*s your jeft ? 
 
 Mar. A dry jeft, Sir. 
 
 Sir And. Are you full of them ? 
 
 Mar. Ay, Sir, I have them at my finger's ends : 
 marry, now I let your hand go, I am barren. 
 
 [Exit Maria. 
 
 Sir To. O Knight, thou lack'ft a cup of canary : 
 when did I fee thee fo put down ? 
 
 Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unlefs you fee 
 canary put me down : methinks, fometimes I have no 
 more wit than a chriftian, or an ordinary man has ; 
 but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does 
 harm to my wit. 
 
 Sir To. No queftion. 
 
 Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forfwear it. I'll 
 ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby, 
 
 Sir To. Pourquoy* my dear Knight. 
 
 Sir
 
 What you 'will. 125 
 
 Sir And. What is pourquoy ? do, or not do ? I 
 would, I had beftowed that time in the tongues that I 
 have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had 
 I but follow'd the arts ! 
 
 Sir To. Then hadft thou had an axcellent head of 
 hair. 
 
 Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? 
 
 Sir To. Pad queflion 5 for 7 thou feeft, it will not 
 curl by nature. 
 
 Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does'c 
 not ? 
 
 Sir To. Excellent ! it hangs like flax on a diftaff"; 
 and I hope to fee a houfe-wife take thee between her 
 legs, and fpin it off. 
 
 Sir And. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby ; 
 your neice will not be feen, or, if fhe be, it's four to 
 one fhe'll none of me : the Duke himfelf here, hard 
 by, wooes her. 
 
 Sir To. She'll none o'th* Duke, (he'll not match 
 above her degree, neither in eftate, years, nor wic j I 
 have heard her fwear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. 
 
 Sir And. I'll (lay a month longer. I am a fellow o' 
 th* ftrangeft mind i'th' world : I delight in masks and 
 revels fometimes altogether. 
 
 Sir To. Art thou good atthefe kick-fhaws, Knight ? 
 
 Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatfoever he be, 
 under the degree of my betters ; 8 and yet I will not 
 compare with an old man. 
 
 Sir To. What is thy excellence in agalliard, Knight? 
 
 Sir And. Faith, I can cut a^ caper. 
 
 Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. 
 
 7 tboufeeft, it 'will not c o o L MY nature."} We fhould read, it 
 mill not cunt BY nature. The joke is evident. 
 
 8 andytt I will not compare with an old man.] This is intended 
 as a fatire on that common vanity of old men, in preferring their 
 own times, and the paft generation, to the prefent. 
 
 Sir
 
 26 TWELPTH-NlGHT: Or, 
 
 Sir And. And, I think, I have the back- trick, (im- 
 ply as ftrong as any man in Illyna. 
 
 Sir To. Wherefore are thefe things hid ? wherefore 
 have thefe gifts a curtain before them ? are they like 
 to take duft, like miftrefs MalPs picture ? why doft 
 thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home 
 in a coranto ? my very walk mould be a jig ! I would 
 not fo much as make water, but in a fink-a-pace : 
 what doft thou mean ? is it a world to hide virtues in ? 
 I did think, by the excellent conftitution of thy leg, it 
 was form'd under the ftar of a galliard. 
 
 Sir And. Ay, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent 
 well in flame-colour'd flocking. Shall we fet about 
 fome revels ? 
 
 Sir To. What mall we do elfe ? were we not born 
 under Taurus ? 
 
 Sir And. Taurus ? that's fides and heart. 
 
 Sir To. No, Sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me fee 
 thee caper j ha! higher: ha, ha!- -excellent. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Changes fo the Palace. 
 Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. 
 
 Val. T F the Duke continue thefe favours towards you, 
 1 Cefario, you are like to be much advanc'd ; 
 he hath known you but three days, and already, you 
 are no ftranger. 
 
 Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, 
 that you call in queftion the continuance of his love. 
 Is he inconftant, Sir, in his favours ? 
 
 Val. No, believe me. 
 
 Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. 
 Fio. I thank you : here comes the Duke. 
 Duke. Who faw Cefario, hoa ? 
 
 Vio.
 
 What you will. 127 
 
 Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here. 
 
 Duke. Stand you a-while aloof. Cefario, 
 Thou know'ft no lefs, but all : I have unclafp'd 
 To thee the book even of my fecret foul. 
 Therefore, good youth, addrefs thy gate unto her 5 
 Be not deny'd accefs, ftand at her doors, 
 And tell them, there thy fixed foot (hall grow, 
 'Till thou have audience. 
 
 Vio. Sure, my noble Lord, 
 If fhe be fo abandon'd to her forrow 
 As it is fpoke, fhe never will admit me. 
 
 Duke. Be clamorous, and Jeap all civil bounds, 
 Rather than make unprofited return. 
 
 Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord ; what then? 
 
 Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love, 
 Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith , 
 It (hall become thee well to act my woes ; 
 She will attend it better in thy youth, 
 Than in a Nuncio of more grave afpect. 
 
 Vio. I think not fo, my Lord. 
 
 Duke. Dear lad, believe it : 
 For they fhall yet belie thy happy years, 
 That fay, thou art a man : Diana's lip 
 Is not more fmooth and rubious ; thy fmall pipe 
 Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill, and found, 
 And all is femblative a woman's part. 
 I know, thy Conftellation is right apt 
 For this affair : fome four or five attend him ; 
 All, if you will j for I my felf am beft 
 When leaft in company. Profper well in this, 
 And thou fhalt live as freely as thy Lord, 
 To call his fortunes thine. 
 
 Vw. I'll do my beft 
 
 To woo your Lady ; yet, a barrful ftrife ! 
 Who-e'er I woo, my felf would be his wife. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 28 Tw E LFT H-Nl GH T : Or, 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to Olivia'.* Houfe. 
 
 Enter Maria and Clown. 
 
 Mar. ^T A Y, either tell me where thou haft been, 
 JJN or I will not open my lips fo wide as a 
 bridle may enter, in way of thy excufe ; my Lady 
 will hang thee for thy abfence. 
 
 Clo. Let her hang me ; he, that is well hang'd in 
 this world, needs fear no colours. 
 
 Mar. Make That good. 
 
 Clo. He mall fee none to fear. 
 
 Mar. A good lenten anfwer : I can tell thee where 
 that faying was born, of, I fear no colours. 
 
 Clo. Where, good miftrefs Mary ? 
 
 Mar. In the wars ; and that may you be bold to fay 
 in you foolery. 
 
 Clo. Well, God give them wifdom that have it ; and 
 thofe that are fools, let them ufe their talents. 
 
 Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being fo long ab- 
 fent, or be turn'd away ; is not that as good as a 
 hanging to you ? 
 
 Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad mar- 
 riage ; and for turning away, let fummer bear it out, 
 
 Mar. You are refolute then ? 
 
 Clo. Not fo neither, but I am refolv'd on two 
 points. 
 
 Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or, 
 if Both break, your gaskins fall. 
 
 Clo. Apr, in good faith ; very apt : well, go thy 
 way, if Sir foby would leave drinking, thou wert as 
 witty a piece of Era's flefh as any in Illyria. 
 
 Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o* that ; here 
 comes my Lady ; make your excufe wifely, you were 
 beft. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE
 
 What you <iwV/. i 2 9 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 Olivia, and Malvolio. 
 
 Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into a good 
 fooling ! thofe wits, that think they have thee, do 
 very oft prove fools ; and I, that am fure I Jack 
 thee, may pafs for a wife man. For what fays fui- 
 napalus. Better be a witty fool thanafoolifh wit. God 
 blefs thee, Lady ! 
 
 Oli. Take the fool away. 
 
 Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? take away the Lady. 
 
 Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool i I'll no more of you 5 
 befidcs, you grow dilhoneft. 
 
 Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good 
 counfel will amend ; for give the dry fool drink, then 
 is the fool not dry : Bid the difhoneft man mend him- 
 felf j if he mend, he is no longer difhoneft ; if he can- 
 not, let the botcher mend him. Any thing, that's 
 mended, is but patch'd ; virtue, that tranfgrefles, is 
 but patch'd with fin ; and fin, that amends, is but 
 patch'd with virtue. If that this fimple fyllogifm will 
 ferve, fo , if it will not, what remedy ? as there is no 
 true cuckold but calamity, fo beauty's a flower : the 
 Lady bad take away the fool, therefore, I fay again, 
 take her away. 
 
 Oli. Sir, I bad them take away you. 
 
 Clo. Milprifion in the higheft degree. Lady, Cu- 
 fullus nonfacit monachum ; that's as much as to fay, I 
 wear not motley in my brain : good Madcna, give me 
 leave to prove you a fool. 
 
 Oli. Can you do it ? 
 
 Clo. Dexteroufly, good Madona. 
 
 Oli. Make your proof. 
 
 Clo. I muft catechize you for it, Madona ; good my 
 moufe of virtue, anfwer me. 
 
 jtti. Well, Sir, for want of other idlenefs, I'll bide 
 your proof. 
 
 VOL. III. K do.
 
 130 TwELFTH-NlG HT: Or, 
 
 Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'ft thou ? 
 
 OIL Good fool, for my brother's death. 
 
 Clo. I think, his foul is in hell, Madona. 
 
 Oil. I know, his foul is in heav'n, fool. 
 
 Clo. The more fool you, Madona^ to mourn for 
 your brother's foul being in heav'n : take away the 
 fool, Gentlemen. 
 
 Oli. What think you of this fool, MalvoKo 9 doth 
 he not mend ? 
 
 Mai. Yes, and {hall do, 'till the pangs of death 
 fhake him. Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever 
 make better the fool. 
 
 Clo. God fend you, Sir, a fpeedy infirmity, for the 
 better increafing your folly ! Sir Toby will be fworn, 
 that I am no fox 5 but he will not pafs his word for 
 two pence, that you are no fool. 
 
 Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio ? 
 
 Mai. I marvel, your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch 
 a barren rafcal ; I faw him put down the other day 
 with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a 
 {lone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already ; 
 unlefs you laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is 
 gagg'd. 1 proteft, I take thefe wife men, that crow 
 fo at thefe fet kind of fools, no better than the fools' 
 Zanies. 
 
 Oli. O, you are fick of felf-love, Maholio, and tafte 
 with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltlefs, 
 and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for bird- 
 bolts that you deem cannon-bullets : there is no flander 
 In an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail i nor 
 no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do no- 
 thing but reprove. 
 
 Clo. 9 Now Mercury indue thee with pleafing, for 
 thou fpeak'ft well of fools ! 
 
 Entft 
 
 9 Now Mercury indue tbee 'with LE A s I N c,for thoufpeak''JI tvftt 
 of fools /] This is a ftupid blunder. We fliould read, 'with PLEAS- 
 ING, i.e. with eloquence, make thee a gracious and powerful 
 
 fpeaker,
 
 What you ivilL 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young Gentle- 
 man, much defires to fpeak with you. 
 
 Oli. From the Count Orfino, is it ? 
 
 Mar. I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair young Man, 
 and well attended. 
 
 OK. Who of my people hold him in delay? 
 
 Mar. Sir Toby? Madam, your Uncle. 
 
 Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you, he fpeaks nothing 
 but madman: fie on him! Go you, Malvolio; if it 
 be a fuit from the Count, I am fick, or not at home: 
 What you will, to difmifs it. [Exit Malvolio ] Now 
 you lee, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and people 
 diflike it. 
 
 Clo. Thou haft fpoke for us, Madona, as if thy 
 elded Son mould be a fool : whofe fcull Jove cram 
 with brains, for here comes one of thy Kin has a 
 moft weak Pia Mater ! 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby. 
 
 OR. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at 
 the gate, Uncle? 
 
 Sir To. A Gentleman. 
 
 Oli. A Gentleman ? what Gentleman ? 
 
 fpeaker, for Mercury was the God of orators as well as cheats. But 
 the firft Editors, who did not tmderitand the phrafe, indue tbte 
 with pleafing, made this fool ifh corre&ion ; more excufable, how- 
 ever, than the laft Editor's, who, when this emendation was pointed 
 out to him, would make one of his own; and fo in his Oxford 
 edition, reads, with LEARNING ; without troubling himfelf to fa- 
 tisfy the reader how the firft editor (hould blunder in a word fo 
 eafy to be underllood as learning tho' they well might in the word 
 pleaftngy as it is ufed in this place, 
 
 K 2 Sir
 
 132 TWELITH-NlGHT: Or, 
 
 Sir 70. * 'Tis a Gentleman-heir, A plague o 9 
 
 thefe pickle herring! how now, for? 
 
 Clo. Good Sir Toby, 
 
 Oli. Uncle, Uncle, how have you come fo early 
 by this lethargy ? 
 
 Sir To. Letchery ! I defie letchery : there's one at 
 the gate. 
 
 Oli. Ay, marry, what is he? 
 
 Sir fo. Let him be the devil and he will, I care 
 not : give me faith, fay I. Well, it's all one. [Exit. 
 
 Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ? 
 
 do. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman : 
 one draught above heat makes him a fool ; the fecond 
 mads him ; and a third drowns him. 
 
 Oli. Go thou and feek the Coroner, and let him fit 
 o' my Uncle ; for he's in the third degree of drink ; 
 he's drown'd ; go, look after him. 
 
 Go. He is but mad yet, Madona, and the fool mail 
 look to the madman. [Exit Clown. 
 
 Enter Malvolio: 
 
 Mai Madam, yond young Fellow fwears he will 
 fpeak with you. I told him, you were fick ; he takes 
 on him to underftand fo much, and therefore comes 
 to fpeak with you. I told him you were afleep - 9 he 
 feems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and there- 
 fore comes to fpeak with you. What is to be faid to 
 him, Lady ? he's fortified againft any denial. 
 
 Oli. Tell him, he (hall not fpeak with me. 
 
 l Tit a gentleman. HERE, ] He had before faid it was a 
 gentleman. He was asked what gentleman ? and he makes this 
 reply ; which, it is plain, is corrupt, and fhould be read thus, 
 
 "/?/ a Gentleman-^. E i R, 
 
 i. e. fome lady's eldeft fonjuft come out of the nurfery; for this 
 was the appearance Viola made in mens clothes. See the character 
 io draws of him prefently after. 
 
 Mai.
 
 What yon will. 133 
 
 Mai. He has been told fo ; and he fays, he 1 JJ "* Hand 
 at your door like a Sheriff's poft, and be the fup- 
 porter to a bench, but he'll fpeak with you. 
 
 OK. What kind o'man is he ? 
 
 Mai. Why, of mankind. 
 
 Oli. What manner of man ? 
 
 Mai. Of very ill manners i he'll fpeak with you, 
 will you or no. 
 
 Oil. Of what perfonage and years is he ? 
 
 Mai. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young 
 enough for a boy , as a fquafii is before 'tis a peafcod, 
 or a codling when 'tis almoft an apple : 'tis with him 
 in ftanding water, between boy and man. He is very 
 well-favour'd, and he fpeaks very fhrewifhly ; one 
 would think, his mother's milk were fcarce out of 
 him. 
 
 Oli. Let him approach : call in my Gentlewoman. 
 
 Mai. Gentlewoman, rny Lady calls. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 OIL Give me my veil : come, throw k o'er my face i 
 We'll once more hear Orfmo's embafTy. 
 
 Enter Viola. 
 
 Vw. The honourable Lady of the houfe, which 
 is me ? 
 
 2 jland at your door like a Sheriff*! poft,~\ It was the cuftom for 
 that officer to have large pofts fet up at his door, as an indication of 
 his office. The original of which was, that the King's procla- 
 mations, and other publick ads, might be affixed thereon by way 
 of publication. So Jobnfon* Every man out of bis humour) 
 
 put off 
 
 To the Lord Chancellor's tomb, or the Shrives pofts. 
 So again in the old play called Lingua, 
 
 Knows he how to become a fear let gown, bath he a fair offrt/h 
 pofts at his door ? 
 
 K 3 Oli a
 
 34 TWE LfTH-NiG HT: O, 
 
 OH. Speak to me, I fhall anfwer for her: your 
 will? 
 
 yio. Moft radiant, exquifite, and unmatchable 
 Beauty I pray you, tell me, if this be the Lady 
 of the houfe, for I never faw her. I would be loth 
 to caft away my fpeech; for, befides that it is excel- 
 lently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it. 
 Good Beauties, let me fuftain no fcorn ; 3 1 am very 
 comptible, even to the leaft finifter ufage. 
 
 Oil. Whence came you, Sir? 
 
 Vio. I can fay little more than I have ftudied, and 
 that Queflion's out of my Part. Good gentle One, 
 give me modeft afiurance, if you be the Lady of the 
 houfe, that I may proceed in my fpeech. 
 
 Oil. Are you a Comedian ? 
 
 Flo. No, my profound heart ; and yet, by the very 
 fangs of malice, I fwear, 1 am not that I play. Are 
 you the Lady of the houfe ? 
 
 Oli. If I do not ufurp myfelf, I am. 
 
 Vio. Moft certain, if you are me, you do ufurp 
 yourfelf ; for what is yours to beftow, is not yours to 
 referve ; but this is from my Commiflion. I will on 
 with my fpeech in your praife, and then mew you the 
 heart of my meffage. 
 
 OIL Come to what is important in't : I forgive you 
 the praife. 
 
 Vio. Alas, I took great pains to fludy it, and 'tis 
 poetical. 
 
 Oli. It is the more like to be feign'd. I pray you, 
 keep it in. I heard you were fawcy at my gates j and 
 I allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than 
 to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if you 
 have reafon, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon 
 with me, to make one in ib skipping a dialogue. 
 
 Mar. Will you hoift fail, Sir, here lies your way. 
 
 ; / a-i viry comptibie, ] Comptiblf for ready to call to account. 
 
 Vio.
 
 What you ay///. 
 
 Vio. No, good fwabber, I am to hull here a little 
 longer. Some mollification for your Giant, fweet 
 Lady. 
 
 4 Oli Tell me your mind. 
 
 Vio. I am a mefTenger. 
 
 Oli. Sure, you have fome hideous matter to deliver, 
 when the courtefie of it is fo fearful. Speak your 
 office. 
 
 Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no over- 
 ture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the 
 olive in my hand : my words are as full of peace as 
 matter. 
 
 OH. Yet you began rudely. What are you ? what 
 would you ? 
 
 Vio. The rudenefs, that hath appear'd in me, have 
 I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and 
 what I would, are as fecret as maiden-head ; to your 
 ears, divinity ; to any other's, prophanation. 
 
 Oli. Give us the place alone. [Exit Maria.] We 
 will hear this divinity. Now, Sir, what is your text ? 
 
 Vio. Moft fweet Lady, 
 
 Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be 
 faid of it. Where lies your text ? 
 
 Vio. In Orjino's bofom. 
 
 Oli. In his bofom ? in what chapter of his bofom ? 
 
 Vio. To anfwer by the method, in the firft of his 
 heart. 
 
 Oli. O, I have read it ; it is herefie. Have you 
 no more to fay ? 
 
 4 Vio. tell me your mind, I am a me/enger.~\ Thefc words 
 muft be divided between the two fpeakers thus, 
 Oli. Tell me your mind 
 Vio. 1 am a mejfenger. 
 
 Viola growing troublelume, Olivia would difmifs her, and therefore 
 cuts her {hort with this command. Tell me your mind The other 
 taking advantage of the ambiguity of tlie word mind which fig- 
 nifies either bufinefs or inclinations, replies as if fheliad ufed it in 
 the latter fenfe, / am a mejfenger. 
 
 K 4 Vie.
 
 136 TWE LFTH-NlGHT : Or, 
 
 Vio. Good Madam, let me fee your face. 
 
 OH. Have you any commiffion from your Lord to 
 negotiate with my face ? you are now out of your 
 text , but we will draw the curtain, and fhew you the 
 picture. s Look you, Sir, fuch a one I wear this pre- 
 fent : is't not well done? [Unveiling. 
 
 Via. Excellently done, if God did all. 
 
 OIL 'Tis in grain, Sir; 'twill endure wind and 
 weather. 
 
 Vio. J Tis Beauty truly blent, whofe red and white 
 Nature's own fweet and cunning hand laid on : 
 Lady, you are the cruell'ft She alive, 
 If you will lead thefe graces to the Grave, 
 And leave the world no copy. 
 
 OH. O, Sir, I will not be fo hard-hearted : I will 
 give out diverfe fchedules of my beauty. It fhall be 
 inventoried, and every particle and utenfil label I'd to 
 my wjll. As, Item, two lips indifferent red. Item, 
 two gray eyes, with lids to them. Item, one neck, 
 one chin, and fo forth. Were you fent hither to praifc 
 me? 
 
 Vio. I fee you, what you are ; you are too proud ; 
 But if you were the Devil, you are fair. 
 My Lord and Matter loves you : O, fuch Jove 
 Could be but recompens'd, tho' you were crown'd 
 The Non-pareil of Beauty ! 
 
 OIL How does he Jove me ? 
 
 Vie. With adorations, with fertile tears, 
 
 5 Leak you, Sir, fab a one I was this prcfent : iit not well 4me ?] 
 This is nonfenfe ; we fhould read I wear: The correlion, J think, 
 clears all up, and gives the exprefllon an Air of Gallantry. Viola 
 prcfles to fee Olivia 's face ; the other at length pull-, off her veil, 
 and fays, nue will draw the curtain andfoewyou the pi 1 lire. I wear 
 this complexion to-day, I may wear another to-morrow; jocularly 
 intimating, that (he fainted. The other, yext at the jeft, fays, 
 Excellently done, if God did all. Perhaps it irry be true what you 
 iay in jeit, otherwife 'tis an excellent face. T/J ingrain, &c. re- 
 plies Olivia. 
 
 With
 
 Wloat you 
 
 With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire. 
 
 Oli. Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot 
 
 love him ; 
 
 Yet I fuppofe him virtuous, know him noble, 
 Of great eftate, of frefh and ftainlefs youth ; 
 In voices well divulg'd ; free, Jearn'd, and valiant ; 
 And in dimenfion, and the fhape of nature, 
 A gracious perfon ; but yet I cannot love him : 
 He might have took his anfwer long ago. 
 
 Vio. If I did love you in my mailer's flame, 
 With fuch a fuff'ring, fuch a deadly life, 
 In your denial I would find no fenfe: 
 I would not underftand it. 
 
 Oli. Why, what would you do ? 
 
 Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, 
 And call upon my foul within the houfe ; 
 Write loyal canto's of contemned love, 
 And fing them loud even in the dead of night: 
 Hollow your name to the reverberate hills, 
 And make the babling goflip of the air 
 Cry out, Olivia ! O, you mould not reft 
 Between the elements of air and earth, 
 But you mould pity me. 
 
 Oli. You might do much : 
 What is your parentage ? 
 
 Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my ftate is well ; 
 I am a gentleman. 
 
 Oli. Get you to your Lord ; 
 I cannot love him : let him fend no more ; 
 Unlefs, perchance, you come to me again, 
 To tell me how he takes it j fare you well : 
 1 thank you for your pains ; fpend this for me. 
 
 Vio. I am no fee'd poft, lady ; keep your purfc: 
 My mafter, not myfelf, lacks recompence. 
 Love make his heart of flint, that you fhall love, 
 And let your fervour, like my matter's, be 
 
 in contempt! farewel, fair cruelty. [Exit. 
 
 Oli.
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 Oli. What is your parentage , 
 Above my fortunes^ yet myjtate is well: 
 I am a gentleman I'll be fworn thou art. 
 Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and fpirit, 
 Do give thee five-fold blazon not too faft foft! 
 
 foft! 
 
 Unlefs the mafter were the man. - How now ? 
 Even fo quickly may one catch the plague ? 
 Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections, 
 "With an invifible and fubtile ftealth, 
 
 To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be 
 
 What ho, Malvolio, 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai Here, Madam, at your fervice. 
 
 OH. Run after that fame peevifh meffenger, 
 The Duke's man ; he left this ring behind him, 
 Would I, or not : tell him, I'll none of it. 
 Defire him not to flatter with his Lord, 
 Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him : 
 If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, 
 I'll give him reafons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. Madam, I will. [Exit. 
 
 Oli. I do, I know not what ; and fear to find 
 Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind : 
 Fate, fhew thy force ; ourfelves we do not owe ; 
 What is decreed, muft be i and be this fo ! [Exit. 
 
 ACT
 
 What you iy/7/. 
 
 A C T II. SCENE I. 
 
 The STREET. 
 Enter Antonio and Sebaftian. 
 
 ANTONIO. 
 
 WILL you ftay no longer ? nor will you not, 
 that I go with you ? 
 
 Seb. By your patience, no : my ftars fhine darkly 
 over me } the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, 
 diftemper yours; therefore I mall crave of you your 
 leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad 
 recompence for your love, to Jay any of them on 
 you. 
 
 Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are 
 bound. 
 
 Seb. No, footh, Sir ; my determinate voyage is 
 meer extravagancy : but I perceive in you fo excellent 
 a touch of modefty, that you will not extort from 
 me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore it charges 
 me in manners the rather to exprefs myfelf : you muft 
 know of me then, Antonio^ my name is Sebaftian; 
 which I call'd Rodongo ; my father was that Sebajiian 
 of Meffaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He 
 left behind him, myfelf, and a fifter, both born in 
 one hour ; if the heav'ns had been pleas'd, would we 
 had fo ended ! but you, Sir, alter'd that ; for, fome 
 hour before you took me from the breach of the fea, 
 was my fitter drown'd. 
 
 Ant. Alas, the day! 
 
 Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was faid me much re- 
 fembled me, was yet of many accounted beaurifui ; but 
 tho' I could not ' [with fuch eftimable wonder] over- 
 fjYtmable ivondtr'] An interpolation of the pia>er-. 
 
 far
 
 40 TWELPTH-NIG HT: Or, 
 
 far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publifh her, 
 {he bore a mind that envy could not but call fair : 
 (he is drown'd already, Sir, with fait water, tho* I 
 feem to drown her remembrance again with more. 
 
 Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment. 
 
 Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. 
 
 Ant. If you will not murther me for my love, let 
 me be your fervant. 
 
 Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, 
 that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, defire it 
 not. Fare ye well at once ; my bofom is full of 
 kindnefs, and I am yet fo near the manners of my 
 mother, that upon the lead occafion more, mine eyes 
 will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Or- 
 fine's court j farewel. [Exit. 
 
 Ant. The gentlenefs of all the Gods go with thee ! 
 I have made enemies in Orfino's court, 
 Elfe would I very fhortly fee thee there : 
 But come what may, I do adore thee fo, 
 The danger {hall feem fport, and I will go. [Exit* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Viola and Malvolio, at feveral doors. 
 
 Mai. Were not you e'en now with the Countels 
 Olivia ? 
 
 Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have 
 fince arrived but hither. 
 
 Mai. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might 
 have faved me my pains, to have taken it away your 
 felf. She adds moreover, that you fhould put your 
 Lord into a defperate Afiurance, fhe will none of 
 him. And one thing more, that you be never fo 
 hardy to come again in his affairs, unlefs it be to re- 
 port your Lord's taking of this: receive it fo. 
 
 Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll -none of it. 
 
 Mai
 
 What you iy/7/. i 4 1 
 
 Mai. Come, Sir, you peevifhly threw it to her, 
 and her will is, it mould be fo return'd: if it be 
 worth (looping for, there it lyes in your eye; if not, 
 be it his that finds it. [Exit. 
 
 Pio. I left no ring with her ; what means this Lady ? 
 Fortune forbid, my outfide have not charm'd her! 
 She made good view of me ; indeed, fo much, 
 That, fure, methought * her eyes had croft her tongue * 
 For me did fpeak in ftarts diftraftedly : 
 She loves me, fure ; the cunning of her paflion 
 Invites me in this churl ifii meflenger. 
 None of my Lord's ring ; why, he fent her none. 
 I am the man If it be fo, (as, 'tis;) 
 Poor Lady, fhe were better love a dream. 
 Difguife, I fee, thou art a wickednefs, 
 Whererein the pregnant enemy does much. 
 How eafie is it, for the proper falfe 
 In women's waxen hearts to fet their forms ! 
 Alas, our frailty is the caufe, not we, 
 For fuch as we are made, if fuch we be. 
 How will this fadge ? my mafter loves her dearly, 
 And I, poor monftcr, fond as much on him i 
 And me, miftaken, feems to dote on me. 
 What will become of this ? as I am man, 
 My ftate is defperate for my matter's love ; 
 As I am woman, (now, alas the day !) 
 What thrifclefs fighs mail poor Olivia breathe ? 
 O time, thou muft untangle this, not I ; 
 It is too hard a knot for me t' unty. [Exit. 
 
 2 her iyes bad LOST her tongue ;] This is nonfcnfe : 
 
 we (hould read, 
 
 her eyes bad CROST her tongue} 
 
 Alluding to the notion of the fafcination of the eyes ; the effe&s of 
 which were called 
 
 SCENE
 
 142 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Changes to Olivia'* Houfe. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir To. A Pproach, Sir Andrew : not to be a-bed af- 
 /ll ter midnight, is to be up betimes ; and 
 Diluculo furgere, thou know'll, 
 
 Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not : but I 
 know, to be up late, is to be up late. 
 
 Sir 7*0. A falfe conclusion : I hate it, as an unfilPd 
 can ; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, 
 is early ; fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go 
 bed betimes. Does not our life confift of the four ele- 
 ments ? 
 
 Sir And. 'Faith, fo they fay; but, 3 1 think, it rjt- 
 ther confifts of eating and drinking. 
 
 Sir To. Th'art a fcholar, let us therefore eat and 
 drink. Maria ! I fay ! a floop of wine. 
 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith. 
 
 Clo. How now, my hearts ? did you never fee the 
 picture of we three ? 
 
 Sir To. Welcome, afs, now let's have a catch. 
 
 Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breaft. 
 I had rather than forty millings I had fuch a leg, and 
 fo fweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. In footh, thou 
 waft in very gracious fooling lafr night, when thou 
 fpok'ft of PigrogromitttS) of the Vapiam paffing the 
 iquinoctial of Queubus : 'twas very good, i'faith: I 
 fcnt thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, hadft it? 
 
 3 I think, it rather conjijls of eating and drinking.] A ridicule 
 on the medical theory of that time, which fuppofed health to con- 
 fiit in the juft temperament and balance of thefe elements in the 
 human frame. 
 
 do.
 
 What you will. 
 
 Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity ; for Maholio's 
 nofe is no whip-dock. My Lady has a white hand, 
 and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houfes. 
 
 Sir And. Excellent : why, this is the beft fooling, 
 when all is done. Now, a Song. 
 
 Sir To. Come on, there's Six-pence for you. Let's 
 have a Song. 
 
 Sir And. There's a teftril of me too ; if one Knight 
 give a 
 
 Clo. Would you have a Love-fong, or a Song of 
 good life ? 
 
 Sir To. A Love-fong, a Love-fong: 
 
 Sir And. Ay, ay, I care not for good life. 
 Clown fings. 
 
 O miftrefs mine, where are you roaming ? 
 
 O flay and bear, your true love's coming^ 
 That can fing both high and low. 
 
 Trip no further, pretty fweeting ; 
 
 'Journeys end in lovers' meeting, 
 Every wife man's fon doth know. 
 
 Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith ! 
 
 Sir To. Good, good. 
 Clo. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter : 
 Prefent mirth hath prefent laughter : 
 What's to come, is flill unfure ; 
 
 * In decay there lyes no plenty : 
 
 Then come kifs me, fweet, and twenty : 
 Touth's a fluff will not endure. 
 
 Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as lam a true Knight. 
 
 Sir To. A contagious breath. 
 
 Sir And. Very fweet and contagious, i'faith. 
 
 4 In delay there lies no plenty :"] This is a proverbial faying 
 corrupted ; and (hould be read thus, 
 In DECAY there lies no plenty. 
 
 A reproof of avarice, which (lores up periftiable fruits till they de- 
 cay. To thefe fruits the Poet, humoroufly, compares youth or 
 "irginityj which, he fays, is ijluffwill not endure, 
 
 Sir
 
 144 TWELFTH -NIGHT": Of, 
 
 Sir To. To hear by the nofe, it is dulcet in conta- 
 gion. But fhall we make the welkin dance* indeed ? 
 Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will 
 5 draw three fouls out of one weaver ? lhall we do 
 that? 
 
 Sir And. An you love me, let's do f t : I am a dog 
 at a catch. 
 
 Clo. By'r Lady, Sir, and fome dogs will catch well. 
 
 Sir And. Moft certain ? let our catch be, fbou knave. 
 
 Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I (hall be 
 conftrain'd in't, to call thee knave, Knight. 
 
 Sir And. 'Tis not the firft time I have conftrain'd 
 one to call me knave. Begin, fool ; it begins, Hold 
 thy peace. 
 
 Clo. I (hall never begin, if I hold my peace. 
 
 Sir And. Good, i'faich: come, begin. 
 
 [Iheyfmg a catch. 
 
 5 dranu three fouls out of one weaver ?] Our Author reprefenta 
 weavers as much given to harmony in his time, I have ftiewn the 
 caufeof itelfewhere. This expreffion of the power of mufick, is 
 familiar with our Author. Much ado about nothing. Now it it 
 foul ravi/hed. Is it not jlrange that Sheep 's-guti Jhould hale fouls out 
 of men s bodies? Why, he fays, three fouls , is, becaufe he is fpeak- 
 ing of a catch in three parts. And the peripatetic philofophy, then 
 in vogue, very liberally gave every man three fouls. Thewgttative 
 or plajiic, the animal, and the rational. To this, too, Johnfon 
 alludes, in his Poetajier ; What, tuill I turnjharke upon my friends ? 
 or my friends friends ? I fcorn it 'with with my three fouls. By the 
 mention of thefe three, therefore, we may fuppofe it was Shake- 
 fpear 1 ^ purpofe, to hint to us thofe furprifing effects of mufick, 
 yvhich the antients fpeak of. When they tell us of Amphion, who 
 moved ftones and trees ; Orpheus and Arion, who tamed favage 
 beajls, andTimotbeus, who governed, as he pleafed, ihepaftons of 
 his human auditors. So noble an obfervation has our Author con- 
 in the ribaldry of this buffoon charafter. 
 
 SCENE
 
 you iy/7/. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? if 
 my Lady have not call'd up her fteward, Malvolio, 
 and bid him turn you out of doors, never truft me. 
 
 Sir *To. My Lady's a Catayan^ we are politicians, 
 Maholio*sa.Ptf-a-Ramfy, and Three merry men be we. 
 Am not I confanguinious? am I not of her blood ? 
 filly valley^ LadyJ there dwelt a man in Babylon, La- 
 dy y Lady. [Singing. 
 
 Clo. Befhrew me, the Knight's in admirable fooling. 
 
 Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be difpos'd, 
 and fo do I too : he does it with a better grace, but I 
 do it more natural. 
 
 Sir 20. O, the twelfth day 0/December, [Singing. 
 
 Mar. For the love o'God, peace. 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. My matters, are you mad ? or what are you ? 
 have you no wit, manners, nor honefty, but to gabble 
 like tinkers at this time of night ? do ye make an ale- 
 houfe of my Lady's houfe, that ye fqueak out your 
 6 cottiers catches without any mitigation or remorfe of 
 voice ? is there no refpect of place, perfons, nor time 
 in you ? 
 
 Sir To. We did keep time, Sir, in our catches. Sneck 
 up ! [Hiccoughs. 
 
 Mai. Sir Toby, I muit be round with you. My La- 
 dy bade me tell you, that tho' fhe harbours you as her 
 Uncle, flic's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you 
 can feparate your felf and your mifdemeanors, you are 
 welcome to the Houfe : if not, an it would pleafe you 
 
 6 coziers catches] Cottiers. Ruftick, clownifli. 
 
 VOL. III. L to
 
 I4 6 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 to take leave of her, me is very willing to bid yoii 
 farewell 
 
 Sir To. Farewell dear hearty fince I muffi needs "be 
 gone. 
 
 Mai. Nay, good Sir Toby. 
 
 do. His eyes do Jhew^ Us days are almoft done. 
 
 Mai. Is't even fo ? 
 
 Sir To. But I will never die. 
 
 Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie. 
 
 Mai. This is much credit to you. 
 
 Sir To. Shall I bid him go ? [Singing* 
 
 Clo. What, an if you do ? 
 
 Sir To. Shall 1 bid him go y and fpare not ? 
 
 Clo. O no, no, no, you dare not. 
 
 Sir To. Out o'time, Sir, ye lie : art thou any more 
 than a fteward ? doft thou think, becaufc thou art vir- 
 tuous, there mall be no more cakes and ale ? 
 
 Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne ; and ginger fliall be hot 
 i'th' mouth too. 
 
 Sir To. Thou'rt i'th' right. Go, Sir, rub your 
 chain with crums. A {loop of wine, Maria. 
 
 Mai. Miftrefs Mary, if you priz'd my Lady's fa- 
 vour at any thing more than contempt, you would not 
 give means for this uncivil rule ; fhe mall know of it, 
 by this hand. [Exit. 
 
 Mar. Go make your ears. 
 
 Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a 
 man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field, and 
 then to break promife with him, and make a fool 
 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, 
 Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to night ; fince 
 the youth of the Duke's was to day with my Lady, 
 fhe is much out of quiet. For Monfieur Maholw, let 
 me alone with him : if I do not gull him into a nay- 
 word, and make him a common recreation, do not 
 
 think,
 
 you iw7/ 
 
 think, I have wit enough to lie flraight in my bed : 
 I know, I can do it 4 
 
 Sir To. Poffefs us, pofTefs us, tell us fomcihing of 
 him. 
 
 Mar. Marry ;, Sir, fometimes he is a kind of a Pu- 
 ritan. 
 
 Sir And. O, if I thought that* Pd beat him like a 
 dog. 
 
 Sir To. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exquifite 
 reafon, dear Knight. 
 
 Sir And. I have no exquifite reafon for't, but I have 
 reafon good enough. 
 
 Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing 
 conftantly but a time-pleafer ; 7 an affection'd als, that 
 cons Mate without book, and utters it by great fwaths : 
 the bed perfuaded of himfelf : fo cram'd, as he thinks, 
 with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all 
 that look on him, love him ; and on that vice in him 
 will my revenge find notable caufe to work. 
 
 Sir fo. What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Mar. I will drop in his way fome obfcure epiflles 
 of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the mape 
 of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expreffure of 
 his eye, forehead, and complexion, he mall find him- 
 felf moft feelingly perfonated. I can write very like 
 my Lady your Neice ; on a forgotten matter we can 
 hardly make diftinction of our hands. 
 
 Sir To. Excellent, I fmell a device. 
 
 Sir And. I have't in my nofe too. 
 
 Sir To. He {hall think by the letters, that thou wilt 
 drop, that they come from my Neice, and that me is 
 in love with him. 
 
 Mar. My purpofe is, indeed, a horfe of that colour. 
 
 Sir And. And your horfe now would make him 
 an afs. 
 
 7 an affeaioned aft] AfffRiened, fa full of affixation. 
 
 L 2 Afar.
 
 48 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 Mar. Afs, I doubt nor. 
 
 Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable. 
 
 Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know, my 
 phyfick will work with him. I will plant you two, 
 and let the fool make a third, where he mall find the 
 letter : obferve his conftrudlion of it : for this night to 
 bed, and dream on the event. Farewel. [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. Good night, Penthifilea. 
 
 Sir And. Before me, fhe's a good wench. 
 
 Sir $0. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that a- 
 dores me ; what o'that ? 
 
 Sir And. I was ador'd once too. 
 
 Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight : thou hadft need fend 
 for more mony. 
 
 Sir And. If I cannot recover your Neice, I am a 
 foul way out. 
 
 Sir To. Send for money, Knight ; if thou haft her 
 not i'th'end, call me cut. 
 
 Sir And. If I do not, never truft me, take it how 
 you will. 
 
 'Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome fack, 'tis 
 too late to go to bed now : come, Knight ; come, 
 Knight. [Exeunt. 
 
 S C E N E V. 
 
 Changes to the Palace. 
 
 Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. 
 
 Duke. /"""' I VE me fome mufick ; now, good mor- 
 
 Vj row, friends: 
 
 Now, good Cefario, but that piece of fong, 
 That old and antique long, we' heard laft night > 
 Methought, it did relieve my pafllon much *, 
 More than light airs, and 8 recollected terms 
 
 J recolleaed ttrmi] Rtcelhaetl, for ftudied. 
 
 Of
 
 What you <wilL 149 
 
 OFthefe moft brisk and giddy-paced times. 
 Come, butoneverfe. 
 
 Cur. He is not here, fo pleafe your Lordfhip, that 
 fhould fing it. 
 
 Duke. Who was it ? 
 
 Cur. Fefte, the jefter, my Lord, a fool that the La-- 
 dy Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about 
 the houfe. 
 
 Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. 
 
 [Ex. Curio. 
 
 Come hither, boy ; if ever thou fhalt love, 
 In the fweet pangs of it, remember me j 
 For fuch as I am, all true lovers are j 
 Unftaid and skittilh 9 in all notions elfe, 
 Save in the conftant image of the creature 
 That is belov'd. How doftthou like this tune? 
 
 Via. " It gives a very echo from the feat 
 <c Where love is thron'd. 
 
 Duke. Thou doft fpeak mafterly. 
 My lifeupon't, young tho' thou art, thine eye 
 Hath (laid upon fome favour that it loves : 
 Hath it not, boy ? 
 
 Vw. A little, by your favour. 
 
 Duke. What kind of woman is't ? 
 
 Vio. Of your complexion. 
 
 Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i'faith ? 
 
 Vw. About your years, my Lord. 
 
 J)uke. " Too old, by heav'n ; let flill the woman 
 
 take 
 
 ^ An elder than her felf, fo wears {he to him ; 
 " So fways me level in her husband's heart. 
 For, boy, however we do praife our felves, 
 
 9 in all motions elfe^ The Folio reads' notions, which is right, 
 
 I // gives a very erbo T o the feat 
 
 Where !o<ve is tbrond."\ We fhould read, FROM the /tat f 
 i. e. it reaches the throne of love, and reverberates thence. 
 
 L 3 Our
 
 1 r O TwELITH-NlGHT: O, 
 
 Oar fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 
 
 More longing, wavering, fooner loft and worn, 
 
 Than women's are. 
 
 Vio. I think it well, my Lord. 
 
 Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy felf, 
 Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : 
 For women are as rofes, whofe fair flower, 
 Being once difplay'd, doth fall that very hour, 
 
 Vio. And fo they are : alas, that they are fo, 
 TO die, even when they to perfection grow ! 
 
 Enter Curio and Clown. 
 
 Duke. O fellow, come j the fong we had lafl night, '. 
 Mark it, Cefario, it is old and plain ; 
 " The fpinfters and the knitters in the fun, 
 *' And the free maids that weave their thread with 
 
 bones, 
 
 *' Do ufe to chant it : it is filly footh, 
 " * And tallies with the innocence of love, 
 " Like the old age. 
 
 Clo. Are you ready, Sir ? 
 
 Duke. Ay; pr'ythee, fing. [Mufick. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 *' Come away, come away., death, 
 
 ** dnd in fad cyprefe let me be laid \ 
 ' Ply away^ fly away, breath, 
 
 " lamjlain by a fair cruel maid. 
 ?' My Jbrowd of white, ftuck all with yew^ 
 
 " O, prepare it. 
 *' My pun of de'atb no one fo true 
 
 " Didjhareit. 
 
 ^ And dallies <witk the innocence of love,"] Da fliei has no fenfe. 
 Wfeiliould read, TALLIES, i.e. agrees with; is of a piece with. 
 
 " Not
 
 What you 
 
 Not a flower i not a flower fweet, 
 
 " On my black coffin let there be ftrown : 
 
 Not a friend^ not a friend greet 
 
 " My poor corps , w^re wy bones Jhall be thrown. 
 
 d tboufand thoufand ftghs to fave, 
 
 " .Ltfjy #z<?, O / where 
 
 frue lover never find my grave, 
 
 Duke. There's for thy pains. 
 
 Clo. No pains, Sir ; I take pleafure in finging, Sir. 
 
 Duke. I'll pay thy pleafure then. 
 
 Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleafure will be paid one time 
 or other. 
 
 Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. 
 
 Clo. Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the 
 taylor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy 
 mind is J a very opal! I would have men of fuch con- 
 Itancy put to fea, 4 that their bufmefs might be every 
 thing, and their intent no where ; for that's it, that 
 always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewel. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Duke. Let all the reft give place. Once more, Ce- 
 
 farioy 
 Get thee to yond fame fovereign cruelty : 
 
 1 a very opal !] A precious ftone of almoft all colours. 
 
 Mr. Pope. 
 
 4 that their bufaefs might be every thing, and their intent EVE- 
 RY where ;] Both the prefervation of the antithelis, and the reco- 
 covery of the fenfe, require we fhould read, - and their intent 
 NO 'where. Becaufe a man who fuffers himfelf to run with every 
 wind, and fo makes his bufinefs every where, cannot be faid to 
 have any intent ; for that word fignifies a determination of the 
 mind to fomething. Befides, the conclufion of mating a good voy- 
 age out of nothing, direfts to this emendation. 
 
 L 4 Tell
 
 152 TWELFTH -NIGHT: Or, 
 
 Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, 
 
 Prizes not quantity of dirty lands , 
 
 The parts, that fortune hath beftow'd upon her, 
 
 Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune : 
 
 5 But 'tis that miracle, and Queen of Gems, 
 
 That nature pranks, her Mind, attracts my foul. 
 
 Via. But if (he cannot love you, Sir - 
 
 Duke. 6 I cannot be fo anfwer'd. 
 
 Vio, Sooth, but you muft. 
 Say, that fome 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 fo ; muft me not then be anfwer'd? 
 
 Duke. There is no woman's fides 
 Can bide the beating of fo flrong a paffion, 
 As love doth give my heart : no woman's heart 
 So big to hold fo much -, they lack retention. 
 - Alas, their love may be call'd appetite : 
 No motion of the liver, but the palate, 
 That fuffers forfeit, cloyment, and revolt ; 
 But mine is all as hungry 35 the fea, 
 And can digeft as much ; make no compare 
 Between that love a woman can bear me, 
 And that I owe Olivia. 
 
 Fio. Ay, but I know 
 
 Duke. What doft thou knew? 
 
 5 ~Bui *tis iat miracle, and Queen of Gems, 
 
 That nature pranks her IN,- ] What is that miracle, and 
 
 Queen of Gems ? we are not told in this reading. Befides, whac is 
 meant by nature pranking her in a miracle ? We fhould read, 
 
 But 'tis that niirac/e, and >ueen of Gems, 
 
 That nature pranks, HER MIND, 
 
 / *. what attracts my foul, is not her Fortune, but her Mind, that 
 miracle, and Queen of Gems that nature pranks, i, e. lets out, and 
 adorns. 
 
 6 IT cannot be fo anfiutird J We ihould read / ; the reply 
 fhews it.
 
 What you will. 153 
 
 Vw. Too well what love women to men may owe j 
 
 In faith, they are as true of heart, as we. 
 
 My father had a, daughter lov'd a man, 
 
 As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, 
 
 I fhould your Lord/hip. 
 
 Duke. And what's her hiftory ? 
 Vio. c A blank, my Lord : ihe never told her love, 
 But let concealment, like a worm i'th* bud, 
 Feed on her damask cheek : {he pin'd in thought ; 
 And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 
 7 She fat like Patience on a monument, 
 Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ? 
 
 We 
 
 7 She fat like patience on a monument, 
 
 Smiling at grief. ] Mr. Theobald fuppofes this might poflibly be 
 borrowed from Chaucer. 
 
 And her befidis wender difcretlie, 
 
 Dame Pacience yftttinge there I fonde 
 
 With face pale, upon an hill of fonde. 
 
 And adds, If he was indebted, however, for the firfl rude draught, 
 hoiu amply has he repaid that debt, in heightning the pifiure ! How 
 much does the green and yellow melancholy tranfiend the old barfs 
 
 pale face ; the monument his hill of fand. 1 hope this Critick 
 
 does not imagine Shakefpear meant to give us a pifture of the face 
 of Patience, by his green and yellow melancholy ; becaufe, he fays, it 
 tranfcends the pate face of Patience given us by Chaucer. To throw 
 Patience into a fit of melancholy, would be indeed very extra- 
 ordinary. The green and yell&w then belonged not to Patience, 
 but to her who fat like Patience. To give Patience a paleface, 
 was proper : and had Shakefpear defcribed htr, he had done it as 
 Chaucer did. But Shakefpear is fpeaking of a marble ftatue of 
 Patience ; Chaucer, of Patience herfelf. And the two reprefenta- 
 tions of her, are in quite different views. Our Poet, fpeaking of a 
 defpairing lover, judicioufly compares her to Patience exercifed on 
 the death of friends and relations i which affords him the beauti- 
 ful picture of Patience on a monument. The old Bard fpeaking of 
 Patience herfelf, direclly, and not by comparifon, as judicioufly 
 draws her in that circumftance where fhe is moft exercifed, and 
 has occasion for all her virtue ; that is to fay, under the loffes of 
 Jhipvjretk. And now we fee why fhe is reprefented zsjitting on 
 an hill of fand, to defign the fcene to be the fea-fhore. It is finely 
 imagined ; and one of the noble fimplicities of that admirable Poet. 
 JB the Ciitick thought, in good earneit, that Chaucer's invention 
 
 wax
 
 TWELPTH-NiG HT : Or, 
 
 We men may fay more, fwear more, but, indeed, 
 Our fhews are more than will ; for ftill we prove 
 Much in our vows, but little in our love. 
 
 Duke. But dy'd thy filler of her love, my boy ? 
 
 Vw. 8 I'm all the daughters of my fathers* houfe, 
 And all the brothers too and yet I know not- 
 Sir, mall I to this Lady? 
 
 Duke. Ay, that's thetheam. 
 To her in hafte ; give her this jewel : fay, 
 My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Changes to Olivia'j Garden. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 
 Sir To. /^ O M E thy ways, Signior Fabian. 
 
 Fab. Nay, I'll come ; if I lofe a fcru- 
 pie of this fport, let me be boil'd to death with melan- 
 choly. 
 
 Sir To. Would'ft thou not be glad to have the 
 niggardly rafcally fheep-biter come by fome notable 
 lhame ? 
 
 was fo barren, and his imagination fo beggarly, that he was not 
 able to be at the charge of a monument for his Goddefs, but left 
 her, like a ilroller, funning herfelf upon a heap of fand. 
 
 8 Fm all the daughters of my father? boufe, 
 
 And all the brother i too - ] This was the moft artful anfvver 
 that could be given. The queftion was of fuch a nature, that to 
 have declined the appearance of a direft anfwer, muft have raifed 
 fufpicion. This has the appearance of a diredl anfwer, that the 
 fifler died of her love ; {he (who pafled for a man) faying, fhe was 
 all the daughters of her father's houfe. But the Oxford Editor, a 
 great enemy, as fhould feera, to all equivocation, obliges her to 
 anfwer thus, 
 
 Shis all the daughters of my father 1 s houfe, 
 
 And 1 am all the fans > But if it ftiould be asked now, 
 
 how the Duke came to take this for an anfwer to his queilion, to 
 be fure the Editor can tell as. 
 
 Fab.
 
 What you *wilL 
 
 Fab. I would exult, man ; you know, he brought 
 me out of favour with my Lady, about a bear-baiting 
 here. 
 
 Sir 0. To anger him, we'll have the bear again ; 
 and we will fool him black and blue, fhall we not, Sir 
 Andrew ? 
 
 Sir And. An we do not, it's pity of our lives. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Here comes the little villain : how now, my 
 nettle of India ? 
 
 Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree ; Maholio's 
 coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'th* fun 
 practifing behaviour to his own Ihadow this half hour. 
 Obferve him, for the love of mockery ; for, I know, 
 this Letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. 
 Clofe, in the name of jefting ! lye thou there ; for here 
 comes the trout that muft be caught with tickling. 
 
 [Throws down A letter, and Exit. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Mai. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria o*nce 
 told me, fhe did affect me ; and I have heard her felf 
 come thus near, that mould me fancy, it fhould be one 
 of my complexion. Befides, meufes me with a more 
 exalted refpecl, than any one elfe that follows her. 
 What mould I think on't ? 
 
 Sir To. Here's an over-weaning rogue. 
 
 Fab. O, peace : contemplation makes a rare Tur- 
 key-cock of him 5 how he jets under his advanced 
 plumes ! 
 
 Sir And. 'Slife, I could fo beat the rogue. 
 
 Sir To. Peace, I fay. 
 
 Mai. To be Count Malvolio^ 
 
 Sir
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT : Or, 
 
 Sir To. Ah, rogue ! 
 
 Sir And. Piftol him, piftol him. 
 
 Sir To. Peace, peace. 
 
 Mai. There is example for't: 9 the Lady of the 
 Tracby married the yeoman of the wardrobe. 
 
 Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel I 
 
 Fab. O, peace, now he's deeply in; look, how 
 imagination blows him. 
 
 Mai. Having been three months married to her, 
 fitting in my ftate 
 
 Sir To. O for a ftone-bow, to hit him in the eye ! 
 
 Mai. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd 
 velvet gown ; having come down from a day-bed, 
 where I have left Olivia fleeping. 
 
 Sir To. Fire and brimftone! 
 
 Fab. O, peace, peace. 
 
 Mai. And then to have the humour of ftate ; and 
 after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know 
 my place, as I would they mould do theirs - to ask 
 for my uncle Toby* 
 
 Sir To. Bolts and fhackles ! 
 
 Fab. Oh, peace, peace, peace ; now, now. 
 
 Mai. Seven of my people with an obedient ftart 
 make out for him : I frown the while, and, perchance, 
 wind up my watch, or play with fome rich jewel. 
 Toby approaches, curtfies there to me. 
 
 Sir To. Shall this Fellow live? 
 
 Fab. ' Tho'our filence be drawn from us with cares, 
 yet, peace. 
 
 Mai 
 
 9 the Lady of the Strachy] We fhowld read Tracty, i. e. Thrace ; 
 for fo the old Englijh writers called it. Mandemille fays, sis Trachye 
 and Macedoigne of the lubicb. Alifandre 'was Kyng. Jt was com- 
 mon to ufe the article the before names of places : And this was no 
 improper inftance, where the iccne was in lllyria- 
 
 I Tho our Jilence be drawn from us 'with cares,] i. e. Tho" it is 
 the greateft pain to us to keep filence. Yet the Oxford Editor has 
 altered it to, 
 
 TM our Jilence le drawn from Ui fy tl? ears. 
 
 There
 
 What you 'will-. 1 5 7 
 
 Md. I extend my hand to him thus ; quenching 
 my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of controul. 
 
 Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th* 
 lips then? 
 
 Mai. Saying, uncle Toby^ my fortunes having caft 
 me on your Neice, give me this prerogative of 
 fpeech 
 
 Sir To. What, what? 
 
 Mai. You muft amend your drunkennefs. 
 
 Sir To. Out, fcab ! 
 
 Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of 
 our plot. 
 
 Mai. Befides, you wafte the treafure of your time 
 with a foolifh Knight 
 
 Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. 
 
 Mai. One Sir Andrew, 
 
 Sir And. I knew, 'twas I j for many do call m<$ 
 Fool. 
 
 Md. z What employment have we here ? 
 
 [Taking up the Letter. 
 
 Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. 
 
 Sir To. Oh peace ! now the fpirit of humours in- 
 timate reading aloud to him ! 
 
 Mai. By my life, this is my Lady's hand : thefe 
 be her very C's, her J7's, and her 2"'s, and thus makes 
 flie her great P's. It is, in contempt of queftion, her 
 hand. 
 
 There is fome conceit, I fuppofe, in this, as in many other of his 
 alterations, yet it oft lies fo deep that the reader has reafon to 
 wi(h he could have explained his own meaning. 
 
 2 What employment have nve here?] A phrafe of that time, 
 equivalent to our common fpeech of Whafs to do here. The Ox- 
 ford Editor, not attending to this, alters it to 
 What implement have ive here ? 
 
 By which happy emendation, he makes Malvolio to be in the plot 
 againft himfelf; or how could he know that this letter was an ita- 
 fhment mads ufe of to catch him ? 
 
 Sir And.
 
 158 TWELFTH- NIGHT: Or, 
 
 Sir And. Her C's, her U*s, and her 2~'s: why 
 that? 
 
 Mai. the unknown belotfd, ibis, and my good 
 wljhes ; her very phrafes : By your leave, wax. Soft ! 
 and the impreflure her Lucrece, with which fhe ufes 
 to feal; 'tis my Lady: to whom fhould this be? 
 
 Fab. This wins him, liver and all. 
 
 Mai. Jove knows I lo*ve> but iubo^ lips do not move, 
 no man muft know. No man muft know whan fol- 
 lows ? the number's aher'ci no man muft know 
 if this mould be thee, Maivolio? 
 
 Sir fo. Marry, hang thee, Brock ! 
 
 Mai. I may command where I adore^ hit filence^ like a, 
 
 Lucrece knife 9 
 
 With bloodlefs ftroke my heart doth gore^ M. O. A. I. 
 doth fway my life. 
 
 Fab. A fuftian riddle. 
 
 Sir 20. Excellent wench, fay I. 
 
 Mai. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life nay, but 
 Srft, let me fee > Jet me fee - 
 
 Fab. What a difh of poifon has fhe drefs'd him ? 
 
 Sir T'o. And with what wing the ftanyel checks 
 at it ? 
 
 Mai. I may command where I adore. Why, fhe 
 may command me : I ferve her, fhe is my Lady. 
 Why, this is evident to any 3 formal capacity. There 
 is no obftruc"lion in this and the end what mould 
 that alphabetical pofition portend ? if I could make 
 that refemble fomething in me ? foftly M. O. 
 
 Sir To. O, ay ! make up that ; he is now at a cold 
 fcent. 
 
 Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, tho* it be 
 as rank as a fox. 
 
 Mai. M. Maholio -M. why, that begins 
 my name. 
 
 3 formal c opacity.] Formal, r cr common.
 
 What you will. r r n 
 
 Fab. Did not I fay, he would work it out ? the cur 
 is excellent at faults. 
 
 Mai. M. But then there is no confonancy in the 
 fequel ; That fuffers under probation : A mould fol- 
 low, but O does. 
 
 Fab, And O mall end, I hope. 
 
 SirZb. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him 
 cry, O. 
 
 Mai. And then / comes behind. 
 
 Fab. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you 
 might fee more detraction at your heels than fortunes 
 before you. 
 
 Mai. M. O. A. I. + this fimulation is not as the 
 former and yet to cruQi this a little, it would bow 
 to me, for every one of thefe letters is in my name. 
 
 Soft, here follows profe If this fall into thy hand, 
 
 revolve. In my ftars I am above thee, but be not afraid 
 of greatnefs ; fome are born great, fome atchieve great-* 
 nef$, and fome have greatnefs thruft upon them. Thy 
 fates open their hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace 
 them ; and to inure thyfeif to what tbou art like to be, 
 caft thy humble ftough, and appear frejh. Be oppofite 
 with a kinfman, furly with ferv ants : let thy tongue tang 
 arguments of ft ate; put thyfeif into the trick of fingu- 
 larity. She thus advifes thee, that fighs for thee. Re- 
 me?nber who commended thy yellow ft ockings, and wiftfd 
 to fee thee ever croft-gartered. I fay, remember ; go to, 
 tbou art made, if thou dejireft to be fo : if not, let tne 
 fee thee a fteward ftill, the fellow of ferv ants, and not 
 worthy to touch fortunes'' fingers. Farewel. She, that 
 would alt,r fervices 5 with thee, the fortunate and happy. 
 Day-light and champian difcover no more: this is 
 
 4 this fimulation] Simulation, for refemfrlance. 
 
 5 nvitb thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian 
 di/covers no more :~\ Wrong pointed : We {bould read, <witb thee, 
 the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champian dtfco'ver no more : 
 i e. Broad day and an open country cannot make things plainer. 
 
 open.
 
 Tw ELJT H-Nl GH T : Of, 
 
 open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, 
 I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wafh off grofs acquain- 
 tance, I will be point devife, the very man. I do 
 not now fool myfelf, to let imagination jade mej for 
 every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. 
 She did commend my yellow {lockings of late, fhe 
 did praife my leg, being crofs-garter'd, and in this 
 fhe manifefts herfelf to my love, and with a kind of 
 injunction drives me to thefe habits of her liking. I 
 thank my ftars, I am happy : I will be ftrange, ftout, 
 in yellow (lockings, and crofs-garter'd, even with the 
 fwiftnefs of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be praifed! 
 Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canft not chufe but 
 know who 1 am , if tbou entertaineft my love, let it ap- 
 fear in thy failing - t thyfmiles become tbee well. 'There- 
 fore in my prefcnce ftill fmile, dear my fweet, I pr*y- 
 thee. Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do 
 every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. 
 
 Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a 
 penfion of thoufands to be paid from the Sophy. 
 
 Sir fo. I could marry this wench for this device. 
 
 Sir And. So could I too. 
 
 Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but fuch 
 another jeft. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Sir And. Nor I neither. 
 Fab. Here comes my noble gull- catcher. 
 Sir To. Wilt thou fet thy foot o* my neck ? 
 Sir And. Or o' mine either ? 
 Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and 
 become thy bond-flave ? 
 
 Sir And. I 'faith, or I either? 
 
 Sir To.
 
 What you oy/7/. T 6 1 
 
 Sir To. Why, thou haft put him in fuch a dresm, 
 that when the image of it leaves him, he muft run 
 mad. 
 
 Mar. Nay, but fay true, does it work upon him ? 
 
 Sir. To. Like Aqua vit<e with a midwife; 
 
 Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the fport, 
 mark his firft approach before my Lady: he will 
 come to her in yellow (lockings, and 'tis a colour me 
 abhors ; and crofs-garter'd, a fafhion me detefts ; and 
 he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo un- 
 fuitable to her difpofition, being addicted to a melan- 
 choly, as me is> that it cannot but turn him into a 
 notable contempt : if you will fee it, follow me. 
 
 Sit To. To the gates of Tartar \ thou moft excel- 
 lent devil of wit ! 
 
 Sir And. 1*11 make one too. {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IIL SCENE L 
 
 O L i v i A'S Garden. 
 Enter Viola, and Clown. 1 
 
 VIOLA. 
 
 SAV E thee* Friend, and thy mufick : doft thou 
 live by thy Tabor ? 
 
 Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church. 
 
 Vio. Art thou a Churchman ? 
 
 Clo. No fuch matter, Sir 5 I do live by the Church ; 
 for I do live at my Houfe, and my Houfe doth (land 
 by the Church. 
 
 Vio. So thou may'ft fay, the King lyes by a Beg- 
 gar, if a Beggar dwell near him : or the Church (lands 
 by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor (land by the Church. 
 
 VOL. III. M do.
 
 I 62 TWELFTH-NIGHT: O, 
 
 Clo. You have faid, Sir : to fee this age! A fen- 
 tence is but' a * chev'ril glove to a good wit ; how 
 quickly the wrong fide 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 Sifter had had no Name, 
 Sir. 
 
 Vio. Why, Man? 
 
 Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word ; and to dally 
 with that word, might make my Sifter wanton ; but, 
 indeed, words are very rafcals, fince bonds difgrac'd 
 them. 
 
 yio. Thy reafon, Man ? 
 
 Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without 
 words ; and words are grown fo falfe, I am loth to 
 prove reafon with them. 
 
 Vw. I warrant, thou art a merry Fellow, and careft 
 for nothing. 
 
 Clo. Not fo, Sir, I do care for fomething ; but, in 
 my confcience, Sir, I do not care for you : if that be 
 to care for nothing, Sir, I would, it would make you 
 invifible. 
 
 yio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool ? 
 
 Clo. No, indeed, Sir ; the Lady Olivia has no folly ; 
 me will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till {he be married ; and 
 Fools are as like Husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, 
 the Husband's the bigger : I am, indeed, not her Fool, 
 but her Corrupter of Words. 
 
 yio. I faw thee late at the Duke Orftno's. 
 
 Clo. Foolery, Sir, does walk about the Orb like the 
 Sun ; it mines every where. I would be forry, Sir, 
 but the fool fhould be as oft with your Mafter, as with 
 ny Miftrefs : I think, I faw your wifdom there. 
 
 Vw. Nay, an thou pafs upon me, I'll no more with 
 thee. Hold, there's expences for thee. 
 
 I a che<v'ril glove] A glove made of a kid's skin, from Chevereul, 
 French. Chiave>-ello t Ital. Cefr it/us, Lat. Mr. Pope. 
 
 Clo.
 
 What you luilL 
 
 Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, 
 fend thee a beard ! 
 
 Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almoft fick 
 for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin. 
 Is thy lady within ? 
 
 Clo. Would not a pair of thefc have bred, Sir ? 
 
 'Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to ufe. 
 
 Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia^ Sir, 
 to bring a Or^rdtf to this Troylus. 
 
 Vw. I underftand you, Sir, 'tis well begg*d. 
 
 Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir ; begging 
 but a beggar : Creffida was a beggar. My lady is 
 within, Sir, I will confter to them whence you come ; 
 who you are, and what you would, is out of my wel- 
 kin ; I might fay, element ; but the word is over-worn. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the fool, 
 And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit: 
 He muftobferve their mood on whom hejefts, 
 The quality of the perfons, and the time ; 
 And, like the haggard, check at every feather 
 That comes before his eye. This is a practice, 
 As full of labour as a wife-man's art : 
 For folly, that he wifely mews, is fit ; 
 But wife men's folly-fall'n, quite taints their wit. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. 
 
 * Sir And. Save you, gentleman. 
 
 Vio. And you, Sir. 
 
 Sir 'To. Dieu vous guards^ Monfieur. 
 
 Vw. Et vous auffi j voftre ferviteur. 
 
 Sir To. I hope, Sir, you are ; and I am yours.* 
 
 2 Hre the fpeeches re&ified by Mr. Theobald. 
 
 M 2 Will
 
 164 TWELFTH-NlGHT: Or, 
 
 Will you encounter the Houfe ? my Niece is defirous 
 you (hould enter, if your trade be to her. 
 
 Vio. I am bound to your Niece, Sir j I mean, Ihe is 
 the lift of my voyage. 
 
 Sir To. Tafte your legs, Sir, put them to motion. 
 
 Vio. My legs do better underftand me, Sir, than I 
 underftand what you mean by bidding me tafte my 
 legs. 
 
 Sir 70. I mean, to go, Sir, to enter. 
 
 Vio. I will anfwer you with gate and entrance , but 
 we are prevented. 
 
 Enter Olivia and Maria. 
 
 Moft excellent accomplifh'd lady, the heav'ns 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 3 moft pregnant and vouchfafed ear. 
 
 Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchfafed : I'll 
 get 'em all three ready. 
 
 Oli. Let the garden door be fhut, and leave me to my 
 hearing. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Give me your hand, Sir. 
 
 Vio. My duty, Madam, and moft humble fervice. 
 
 Oli. What is your name ? 
 
 Vio. Cefario is your fervant's name, fair Princefs. 
 
 Oli. My fervant, Sir ? 'Twas never merry world, 
 Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment : 
 Y'are fervant to the Duke Orjino, youth. 
 
 Vio. And he is yours, and he muft needs be yours : 
 Your fervant's fervant is your fervant, Madam. 
 
 3 mefl pregnant and vmcbfafed far.'] Pregnant, for ready. 
 
 Oli.
 
 What you iw/7. 165 
 
 Oli. For him, I think not on him : for his thoughts, 
 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd wich me! 
 
 Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts 
 On his behalf. 
 
 OK. O, by your leave, I pray you ; . 
 
 I bade you never fpeak again of him. 
 But would you undertake another fuit, 
 I'd rather hear you to follicit That, 
 Than mufick from the fpheres. 
 
 Vw. Dear lady, 
 
 OK. Give me leave, I befeech you : I did fend, 
 4 After the laft enchantment you did here, 
 A ring in chafe of you. So did I abufe 
 Myfelf, my fervant, and, I fear me, youj 
 Under your hard conftruftion muft I fit. 
 To force that on you in a fhameful cunning, 
 Which you knew none of yours. What might you 
 
 think ? 
 
 Have you not fet mine honour at the flake, 
 And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts 
 That tyrannous heart can think ? * to one of your re-j 
 
 ceiving 
 
 Enough is mewn 5 a Cyprus, not a bofom, 
 Hides my poor heart. So let us hear you fpeak. 
 
 Vio. I pity you. 
 
 Oli. That's a degree to love. 
 
 Vio. No, not a grice : for 'tis a vulgar proof, 
 That very oft we pity enemies. 
 
 OK. Why then, methinks, 'tis time to fmile again? 
 O world, how apt the poor are to be proud ! 
 If one mould be a prey, how much the better 
 
 4 After the lajl enchantment t you did hear,] Nonfenfe. Read 
 and point it thus, 
 
 After the laft enchantment you did here, 
 i. e. after the enchantment, your prefence worked in my afie&ions. 
 
 5 to one of your receiving] /'. e. to one of your ready apprtbtnjion. 
 She confiders him as an arch page. 
 
 M 3 To
 
 66 TWELFTH-NIG HT: Gr, 
 
 To fall before the lion, than the wolf ! [Clock ftrikes* 
 The clock upbraids me with the wafte of time. 
 Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you ; 
 And yet when wit and youth are come to harveft a 
 Your wife is like to reap a proper man : 
 There lies your way, due weft. 
 
 Vio. Then weftward hoe : 
 Grace and good difpofuion attend your ladymip ! 
 You'll nothing, Madam, to my Lord by me ? 
 
 Oli. Stay ; pr'ythee tell me, what thou think'fl of 
 me ? 
 
 Vw. That you do think, you are not what you are. 
 
 OH. If I think fo, I think the fame of you. 
 
 Vio. Then think you right, I am not what I am. 
 
 OK. I would you were, as I would have you be ! 
 
 Vio. Would it be better. Madam, than I am ? 
 J wifh it might, for now I am your fool. 
 
 Oli. O, what a deal of fcorn looks beautiful 
 In the contempt and anger of his lip ! 
 A murd'rous guilt mews not itfelf more foon, 
 Than love that would feem hid : love's night is noon* 
 Cefario, by the rofes of the fpring, 
 By maid -hood, honour, truth, and every thing, 
 I love thee fo, that, maugre all thy pride, 
 Nor wit, nor reafon, can my paflion hide. 
 Do not extort thy reafons from this claufe, 
 For that I woo, thou therefore haft no caufe : 
 But rather reafon thus with reafon fetter ; 
 J^ove fought is good ; but given, unfought, is better. 
 
 Vio. By innocence I fwear, and by my youth, 
 I have one heart, one bofom, and one truth. 
 And that no woman has ; nor never none 
 Shall miftrefs be of it, fave I alone. 
 And fo adieu, good Madam-, never more 
 Will I my matter's tears to you deplore. 
 
 0/4.
 
 What you ou/7/. 167 
 
 Cli. Yet come again ; for thou, perhaps, may 'ft 
 
 move 
 That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Changes to an Apartment in Olivia'* Houfe. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. 
 Sir And. XT O, faith, I'll not (lay a jot longer. 
 
 Sir To. Thy reafon, dear venom, 
 give thy reafon. 
 
 Fab. You muft needs yield your reafon, Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir And. Marry, I faw your neice do more favours 
 to the Duke's ferving-man, than ever fhe beftow'd on 
 me. I faw't, i'th' orchard. 
 
 Sir To. Did fhe fee thee the while, old boy, tell me 
 that ? 
 
 Sir And. As plain as I fee you now. 
 
 Fab. This was a great argument of love in her to- 
 wards you. 
 
 Sir And. 'Slight ! will you make an afs o' me ? 
 
 Fab. I will prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the 
 oaths of judgment and reafon. 
 
 Sir To. And they have been Grand Jury-men fmce 
 before Noah was a failor. 
 
 Fab. She did mew favour to the youth in your light, 
 only to exafperate you, to awake your dormoufe va- 
 lour, to put fire in your heart, and brimftone in your 
 liver. You mould then have accofted her, with fome 
 excellent jefts, fire-new from the mint ; you fliouldhave 
 bang'd the youth into dumbnefs. This was look'd for" 
 at your hand, and this was baulkt. The double gilt of 
 this opportunity you let time wafh off, '* and you are 
 " now fail'd into the north of my lady's opinion; 
 *' where you will hang like an ificle on a Duubman'* 
 M 4 " beard,"
 
 I 68 TwELFTH-NlQHT: Or, 
 
 46 beard," unlefs you do redeem it by fome laudabla 
 attempt, either of valour or policy. 
 
 Sir And. And't be any way, it muft be with va- 
 lour ; for policy I hate : I had as lief be a Browni]}, as 
 a politician. 
 
 Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the 
 bads of valour; challenge rne the Duke's youth to. 
 fight with him ; hurt him in eleven places ; my neice 
 fhall take note of it; and afliire thyfelf, there is no 
 love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's 
 commendation with woman than report of valour. 
 
 Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him 2 
 
 Sir To. Go, write in a martial hand ; be curft and 
 brief: it is no matter how witty, fo it be eloquent, and 
 full of invention ; taunt him with the licence of ink ; 
 if thou ihou*ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs ; 
 and as many lies as will lye in thy meet of paper, air 
 though the meet were big enough for the bed of Ware 
 in England ; fet *em down, go about it. Let there be 
 gall enough in thy ink, tho* thpu write with a goofe- 
 pen, no matter : about it. 
 
 Sir And. Where {hall I find you ? 
 
 Sir To. We'll call thee at the Cubicuh : go. 
 
 I Exit Sir Andrew. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby. 
 
 Sir To. I have been dear to. him, lad, fome two 
 thoufand ftrong or fo. 
 
 Fab. We mall have a rare letter from him 5 but 
 you'll not deliver^:. 
 
 Sir To. Never truft me then ; and by all means ftir 
 on the youth to an anfwer. I think, oxen and wain- 
 ropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew^ if he 
 were open*d, and you findfo much blood in his liver 
 
 as
 
 What you 
 
 as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the reft of 
 th' anatomy. 
 
 Fab. And his oppofite, the youth, bears in his vifage 
 no great prefage of cruelty. 
 
 Enter Maria. 
 
 Sir To. f Look, where the youngeft wren of nine 
 comes. 
 
 Mar. If you defire the fpleen, and will laugh your- 
 felves into flitches, follow me : yond gull Malvolio is 
 turned Heathen, a very Renegado ; for there is no 
 Chriftian, that means to be fav'dby believing rightly, 
 can ever believe fuch impoffible paflages of grofihefs. 
 He's in yellow ftockings. 
 
 Sir $0. And crofs- garter J d ? 
 
 Mar. Moft villainoufly ; like a pedant that keeps 
 3 fchool i'th* church : I have dogg'd him, like his 
 murtherer. He does obey every point of the letter, 
 that I dropt to betray him , he does fmile his face into 
 more lines than is in the new map, with the augmen- 
 tation of the Indies i you have not feen fuch a thing, 
 as 'tis ; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I 
 Jcnow, my lady will ftrikehim ; if me do, he'll fmile, 
 and take't for a great favour. 
 
 Sir TO. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to the Street. 
 
 Enter. Sebaftian and Anthonio. 
 
 Sfb. II" Would not by my will have troubled you. 
 JL But fince you make your pleafure of your pains, 
 
 6 Look, where the voungejl luren of nine comes. "\ The womens 
 parts were then afted by boys, fometimes fo low in ftature, that 
 there was occafion to obviate the impropriety by fuch kind of 
 pblique apologies.
 
 TWELFTH-N JGHT: Or, 
 
 I will no further chide you. 
 
 Ant. I could not ftay behind you ; my dcfirc, 
 (More (harp than filed fteel,) did fpur me forth ; 
 And not all love to fee you, (tho' fo much, 
 As might have drawn one to a longer voyage.) 
 But jealoufie what might befal your travel, 
 Being skillefs in thefe parts ; which to a ftranger, 
 Unguided and unfriended, often prove 
 Rough and unhofpitable. My willing love, 
 The rather by thefe arguments of fear, 
 Set forth in your purfuit. 
 
 Seb. My kind Anthonio, 
 I can no other anfwer make, but thanks ; 
 And thanks, and (a) ever thanks ; and oft good turns 
 Are muffled off with fuch uncurrent pay ; 
 But were my worth, as is my confcience, firm, 
 You mould find better dealing : what's to do ? 
 Shall we go 7 fee the relicks of this town ? 
 
 Ant. To-morrow, Sir ; beft, firft, go fee your 
 lodging. 
 
 Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night ; 
 I pray you, let us fatisfie our eyes 
 With the memorials, and the things of fame, 
 That do renown this city. 
 
 Ant. 'Would, you'd pardon me: 
 I do not without danger walk thefe ftreets. 
 Once, in a fea-fight 'gainft the Duke his gallics, 
 I did fome fervice, of fuch note, indeed, 
 That were I ta'en here, it would fcarce be anfwer'd. 
 
 Seb. Belike, you flew great number of his people. 
 
 Ant. Th' offence is not of fuch a bloody nature, 
 Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel 
 Might well have given us bloody argument: 
 It might have fmce been anfwer'd in repaying 
 
 7 fee the relicks of this ttnva ?] Re/icts, for curiofuies. 
 [ (a) ever thanks, Mr. Theobald Vulg. ever oft. ~\ 
 
 What
 
 What you 'will. 
 
 What we took from them, which, for traffick's fake, 
 Mod of our city did. Only myfelf flood out ; 
 For which, if I be lapfed in this place, 
 I fhall pay dear. 
 
 Seb. Do not then walk too open. 
 
 Ant. It doth not fit me : hold, Sir, here's my purfe. 
 In the fouth fuburbs at the Elephant 
 Is beft to lodge : I will befpeak our diet, 
 Whiles you beguile your time, and feed your knowledge 
 With viewing of the town ; there fhall you have me. 
 
 Seb. Why I your purfe ? 
 
 Ant. Haply, your eye fhall light upon fome toy 
 You have defire to purchafe ; and your flore, 
 I think, is not for idle markets, Sir. 
 
 Seb. I'll be your purfe-bearer, and leave you for 
 An hour. 
 
 Ant. To th' Elephant. 
 
 Seb. I do remember. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Changes to Olivia'* Houfe. 
 
 Enter Olivia, and Maria. 
 Oli. T Have fent after him , 8 he fays he'll come 5 
 
 JL How fhall I feaft him ? what beftow on him ? 
 For youth is bought more oft ? than begg'd or bor- 
 row'd. 
 
 I fpeak too loud.- 
 
 Where is Malvolio ? he is fad and civil, 
 And fuits well for a fervant with my fortunes. 
 Where is Malvolio ? 
 
 8 be fays be* II come ;] i. e. I fuppofe now, or admit now, he 
 fays he'll come ; which Mr. Theobald, not underftanding, alters 
 unneceffarily to, fay he will come ; in which the Oxford Editor has 
 followed him. 
 
 Mar*
 
 TWELFTH- NIG HT: Or, 
 
 Mar. He's coming, Madam s but in very ftrange 
 
 manner. 
 He is fure pofleft, Madam. 
 
 Oli. Why, what's the matter, does he rave ? 
 
 Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but fmile ; 
 your Jadyftiip were beft to have fome guard about you, 
 if he come ; for, fure, the man is tainted in his wits. 
 
 OK. Go call him hither. 
 
 Enter Malvolio. 
 
 Pm as mad as he, 
 
 If fad and merry madnefs equal be. 
 
 How now, Malvolio ? 
 
 Mai. Sweet lady, ha, ha. [Smiles fantafticdly* 
 
 OIL Smil'ft thou ? I fent for thee upon a fad oc- 
 cafion. 
 
 Mai. Sad, lady ? I could be fad ; this does make 
 fome obftrution in the blood ; this crofs-gartering ; 
 but what of it ? if it pleafe the eye of One, it is with 
 me as the very true fonnet is : Pleafe one y and pleafe all. 
 
 OIL Why ? how doft thou, man ? what is the mat- 
 ter with thee ? 
 
 Mai. Not black in my mind, tho* yellow in my 
 legs : it did come to his hands, and commands mail 
 be executed. I think, we do know that fweet Ro- 
 man hand. 
 
 OIL Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio ? 
 
 Mai. To bed ? ay, fweet heart ; and Pll come to 
 thee. 
 
 OH. God comfort thee ! why doft thou fmile fo, 
 and kifs thy hand fo oft ? 
 
 Mar. How do you, Maholio ? 
 
 Mai. At your requeft ? 
 Yes, nightingales anfwer daws! 
 
 Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldnefs 
 before my lady ? 
 
 Mai. Be not afraid of Greatnefs i 'twas well writ. 
 
 OIL
 
 Wlnat you 'will. 
 
 Oli. What meaneft thou by that, Maholio ? 
 
 Mai. Some are born Great 
 
 O/i Ha? 
 
 Mai. Some atchieve Greatnefs 
 
 O/i. What fay'ft thou ? 
 
 Mai. And fome have Greatnefs thrufl upon them* 
 
 OK. Heav'n reflore thee ! 
 
 Mai. Remember, who commanded thy yellow 
 ilockings. " 
 
 O/i. Thy yellow (lockings ? 
 
 Mai. And wim'd to fee thee crofs-garter'd 
 
 O/i. Crofs-garter'd ? 
 
 Mai. Go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to bQ 
 fo 
 
 Oli. Am I made ? 
 
 Mai. If not, let me fee thee a fervant dill. 
 
 Oli. Why, this is a very midfummer madnefs, 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke 0;v 
 fino's is return'd ; I could hardly entreat him back i 
 he attends your ladymip's ple*afure. 
 
 O/i. I'll come to him. Good Maria> let this fellow 
 be look'd to. Where's my uncle Toby? let fome of my 
 people have a fpecial care of him > I would not have 
 him mifcarry for half of my dowry. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Mai. Oh, oh ! do you come near me now ? no worfe 
 man than Sir Toby to look to me! this concurs direct- 
 ly with the letter ; fhe fends him on purpofethat I may 
 appear ftubborn to him ; for fhe incites me to that in 
 the letter. Caft thy humble flough, fays (he ; be op- 
 pofite with a kinfman, furly with fervants, let thy 
 tongue tang with arguments of (late, put thyfelf into 
 the trick of fingularity -, and confequently fetsdown 
 
 the
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 the manner how ; as a fad face, a reverend carriage, a 
 flow tongue, in the habit of fome Sir of note, and fo 
 forth. I have lim'd her, but it is Jove's doing, and 
 Jove make me thankful ! and when (he went away 
 now, let this fellow be look'd to : Fellow ! not Mal- 
 volioy nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every 
 thing adheres together, that no dram of a fcruple, no 
 fcruple of a fcruple, noobftacle, no incredulous or un- 
 fafe circumftance what can be faid ? Nothing, that 
 can be, can come between me and the full profpedt 
 of my hopes. Well, Jove t not I, is the doer of this, 
 and he is to be thanked. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of fanctity ? 
 if all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion 
 himfelf poflefl him, yet 1*11 fpeak to him. 
 
 Fab. Here he is, here he is ; how is't with you, 
 Sir ? how is't with you,, man ? 
 
 Mai. Go off; I difcard you ; let me enjoy my pri- 
 vacy : go off. 
 
 Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend fpeaks within him ! 
 did not I tell you ? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to 
 have a care of him. 
 
 Mai Ah, ha ! does me fo? 
 
 Sir To. Go to, go to ; peace, peace, we muft deal 
 gently with him ; let me alone. How do you, Maho- 
 lio? how is't with you ? what! man, defie the devil ; 
 confider, he's an enemy to mankind. 
 
 Mai. Do you know what you fay? 
 
 Mar. La, you ! if you fpeak ill of the devil, how 
 
 he takes it at heart. Pray God, he be not be- 
 
 witch'd. 
 
 Fab. Carry his water to th* wife woman. 
 
 Mar.
 
 What you will. 
 
 friar. Marry, and it mail be done to-morrow morn- 
 ing if I live. My lady would not lofe him for more 
 Chan I'll fay. 
 
 Mai. How now, miftrefs ? 
 
 Mar. O lord ! 
 
 Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace ; that is not the 
 way : do you not fee, you move him ? let me alone 
 with him. 
 
 Fab. No way but gentlenefs, gently, gently ; the 
 fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd. 
 
 Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? how doft 
 thou, chuck ? 
 
 Mai. Sir ? 
 
 Sir To. Ay, biddy, come with me. What! man, 
 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry -pit with fatarw 
 Hang him, foul collier. 
 
 Mar. Get him to fay his prayers, good Sir Toby ; 
 get him to pray. 
 
 Mai. My prayers, minx! 
 
 Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear ofgod- 
 linefs. 
 
 Mai. Go hang yourfelves all : you are idle fhallow 
 things ; I am not of your element, you mall know 
 more hereafter. [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. Is't poflible ? 
 
 Fab. If this were plaid upon a ftage now, I could 
 condemn ft as an improbable fiction. 
 
 Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of 
 the device, man. 
 
 Mar. Nay, purfue him now, left the device take 
 air, and taint. 
 
 Fab. Why, we (hall make him mad, indeed. 
 
 Mar. The houfe will be the quieter. 
 
 Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and 
 bound. My neice is already in the belief that he's mad j 
 we may carry it thus for our pleafure and his penance, 
 'till our very paftime, tired out of breath, prompt us 
 
 to
 
 76 TWE LFTH-NlGHT: Or, 
 
 to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring 
 the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of 
 madmen ; but fee, but fee. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 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. fs't fo fawcy ? 
 
 Sir And. Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read. 
 
 Sir To. Give me. [Sir Toby reads* 
 
 Toutby whatfoever thou art, thou art but a fcuruy fel- 
 low. 
 
 Fab. Good and valiant. 
 
 Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind why 
 I do call thee fo 5 for I willfhew thee no reafonfor't. 
 
 Fab. A good note -, That keeps you from the blow 
 of the law. 
 
 Sir To. Thou com'ft to the Lady Olivia, and in my 
 Jtgbtjheufes thee kindly ; but thou Heft in thy throat, that 
 is not the matter I challenge thee for. 
 
 Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good fenfe-lefs. 
 
 Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be 
 thy chance to kill me - 
 
 Fab. Good. 
 
 Sir To. Thou kill'ft me like a rogue and a villain. 
 
 Fab. Still you keep o'th' windy fide of the law : 
 good. 
 
 Sir To. Fare thee well^ and God have mercy upon one 
 of our fouls : he may have mercy upon mine^ but my hope 
 is better, and fo look to thyjelf. Thy friend as thou ttfejl 
 him, and thy fworn enemy ^ Andrew Ague-cheek. 
 
 Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot ; 
 I'll give't him, 
 
 Mar,
 
 What you iitf'//, 177 
 
 Mar. You may have very fit occafion for't : he is 
 now in fome commerce wich my lady, and will by- 
 and-by depart. 
 
 Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew, fcout me for him at the 
 corner of the orchard like a bum-bailiff j fo foon as 
 ever thou leeft him, draw ; and, as thou draw'ft, 
 fwear horribly ; for it comes to pafs oft, that a ter- 
 rible oath, with a fwaggering accent (harply twang'd 
 off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof 
 itfelf would have earn'd him. Away. 
 
 Sir And. Nay, let me alone for fwearing. \_Exit. 
 
 Sir fo. Now will not I deliver his letter , for the 
 behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to 
 be of good capacity and breeding ; his employment 
 between his lord and my neice confirms no lefs; 
 therefore this letter, being fo excellently ignorant, will 
 breed no terror in the youth; he will find, that ic 
 comes from a clodpole. But, Sir, I will deliver his 
 challenge by word of mouth , fet upon Ague-cheek a 
 notable report of valour > and drive the gentleman, 
 (as, I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a 
 moft hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and 
 impetuofity. This will fo fright them both, that 
 they will kill one another by the look, like cocka- 
 trices, 
 
 SCENE XI. 
 
 Enter Olivia and Viola. 
 
 Fab. Here he comes with your neice ; give them 
 way, 'till he take leave, and prefently after him. 
 
 Sir to. I will meditate the while upon fome horrid 
 meflage for a challenge. \Exeunt, 
 
 Oil. I've faid too much unto a heart of ftone, 
 And laid mine honour too unchary out. 
 There's fomething in me, that reproves my fault; 
 
 VOL. III. N But
 
 178 TWELFTH-NIGHT : Or, 
 
 But fuch a head-ftrong potent fault it is, 
 That it but mocks reproof. 
 
 Fio. With the fame 'haviour that your paflion bears, 
 Goes on my matter's grief. 
 
 Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture ; 
 ReFufe it not, it hath no tongue to vex you : 
 And, I befeech you, come again to-morrow. 
 What mall you ask of me that I'll deny, 
 iThat honour fav'd may upon asking give ? 
 
 Fio. Nothing but this, your true love for my 
 mailer. 
 
 Oil. How with mine honour may I give him that, 
 Which I have given to you? 
 
 Vlo. I will acquit you. 
 
 Oli. Well, come again to-morrow : fare thee well. 
 A fiend, like thee, might bear my foul to hell. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby and Fabian. 
 
 Sir To. Gentleman, God fave thee. 
 
 V'w. And you, Sir. 
 
 Sir To. That defence thou haft, betake thee to't ; 
 of what nature the wrongs are thou haft done him, I 
 know not ; but thy interpreter, full of defpight, 
 bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end j 
 difmount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for 
 thy aflailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. 
 
 Vio. You miftake, Sirj I am fure, no man hath 
 any quarrel to me j my remembrance is very free and 
 clear from any image of offence done to any man. 
 
 Sir To. You'll find it otherwife, I affure you ; there- 
 fore if you hold your life at any price, betake you to 
 your guard j for your oppofite hath in him, what 
 youth, ftrength, skill, and wrath can furnilh man 
 withal.
 
 What you will. 
 
 Vio. I pray you, Sir, what is he? 
 
 Sir To. He is Knight, dubb'd with unhack'd ra- 
 pier, and on carpet confideration ; but he is a devil 
 in private brawl ; fouls and bodies hath he divorc'd 
 three ; and his incenfemenc at this moment is fo im- 
 placable, that fatisfaclion can be none but by pangs of 
 death and fcpulcher : hob, nob, is his word ; give't, 
 or takc'c. 
 
 Vio. 1 will return again into the houfe, and defire 
 fome conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have 
 heard of fome kind of men, that put quarrels pur* 
 pofdy on others to tafte their valour : belike, this is 
 a man of that quirk. 
 
 Sir To. Sir, no : his indignation derives itfelf out of 
 a very competent injury ; therefore get you on, and 
 give him his defire. Back you mall not to the houfe, 
 unlefs you undertake that with me, which with as 
 much fafety you might anfwer him , therefore on, of 
 ftrip your fword ftark naked ; for meddle you muft, 
 that's certain, or forfwear to wear iron about you. 
 
 Vio. This is as uncivil, as ftrange. 1 befeech you, 
 do me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight 
 what my offence to him is : it is fomething of my 
 negligence, nothing of my purpofe. 
 
 Sir To. I will do fo. Signior Fabian, ftay you by 
 this gentleman 'till my return. [Exit Sir Toby. 
 
 Vio. Pray you, Sir, do you know of this matter ? 
 
 Fab. I know, the Knight is incens'd againft you, 
 even to a mortal arbitrement ; but nothing of the cn> 
 cumftance more, 
 
 Vio. I befeech you, what manner of man is he ? 
 
 Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promife to read 
 him by his form, as you are like to find in the proof 
 of his valour. He is, indeed, Sir, the moft skilful, 
 bloody, and fatal oppofite that you could poftibly 
 have found in any part of Illyria: will you walk to- 
 wards him ? I will make your peace with him, if I can. 
 
 N 2 Vl9,
 
 8o TWELTTH-NlGHTtO, 
 
 Vw. I (hall be much bound to you for't : I am 
 one, that had rather go with Sir Prieft than Sir Knight: 
 I care not who knows fo much of my mettle. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE XIII. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not 
 feen fuch a virago: I had a pafs with him, rapier, 
 fcabbard and all ; and he gives me the (luck in with 
 fuch a mortal motion, that it is inevitable ; and on 
 the anfwer, he pays you as furely as your feet hit the 
 ground they ftep on. They fay, he has been fencer 
 to the Sophy. 
 
 Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. 
 
 Sir fo. Ay, but he will not now be pacified : 
 Fabian can fcarce hold him yonder. 
 
 Sir And. Plague on't, an I thought he had been 
 valiant, and fo cunning in fence, I'd have feen him 
 damn'd ere I'd have challeng'd him. Let him let the 
 matter flip, and I'll give him my horfe, grey Capilet. 
 
 Sir fo. I'll make the motion ; ftand here, make a 
 good Ihew on't ; This fliall end without the per- 
 dition of fouls i marry, I'll ride your horfe as well as 
 I ride you. [Afide. 
 
 Enter Fabian and Viola. 
 
 I have his horfe to take up the quarrel ; I have per- 
 fuaded him, the youth's a devil. [To Fabian. 
 
 Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and pants 
 and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. 
 
 Sir To. There's no remedy, Sir, he will fight with 
 you for's oath fake: marry, he had better bethought 
 him of his quarrel, and he finds That now fcarce to 
 be worth talking of; therefore draw for the fup- 
 portance of his vow, he protefts he will not hurt you.
 
 What you ay///. 181 
 
 Vio. Pray God defend me! a little thing would 
 make me tell them how much I lack of a man. 
 
 Fab. Give ground, if you fee him furious. 
 
 Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy ; the 
 gentleman will for his honour's fake have one bout 
 with you ; he cannot by the duello avoid it ; but he 
 has promis'd me, as he is a gentleman and a foldier, 
 he will not hurt you. Come on, to't. [They draw. 
 
 Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath ! 
 
 SCENE XIV. 
 
 Enter Anthonio. 
 
 Vio. I do afiure you, 'us againft my will. 
 
 Ant. Put up your fword ; if this young gentleman 
 Have done offence, I take the fault on me ; 
 If you offend him, I for him defie you. {Drawing. 
 
 Sir To. You, Sir? Why, what are you? 
 
 Ant. One, Sir, that for his love dares yet do more 
 Than you have heard him brag to you he will. 
 
 Sir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. 
 
 [Draws. 
 Enter Officers. 
 
 Fab. O good Sir Toby, hold ; here come the officers. 
 
 Sir To. I'll be with you anon. 
 
 Vio. Pray, Sir, put your fword up if you pleale. 
 
 [To Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir And. Marry, will I, Sir ; and for that I pro- 
 mis'd you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear 
 you eafily, and reins well. 
 
 1 Off. This is the man ; do thy office. 
 
 2 Off. Anthon'W) I arreft thee at the fuit of Duke 
 
 Orfino. 
 
 Ant. You do miftake me, Sir. 
 i Off. No, Sir, no jot: I know your favour well i 
 Tho' now you have no fea-cap on your head. 
 
 N 3 Take
 
 Tw ELFTH-NlGH T : Or, 
 
 Take him away, he knows, I know him well. 
 
 Ant. I muft obey. This comes with fceking you ; 
 But there's no remedy. I mail anfwer it. 
 What will you do ? now my neceffity 
 Makes me to ask you for my purfe. It grieves me 
 Much more, for what I cannot do for you, 
 Than what befals myfelf : you (land amaz'd, 
 But be of comfort. 
 
 2 Off Come, Sir, away. 
 
 Ant. I muft intreat of you fome of that mony. 
 
 Vio. What Mony, Sir ? 
 
 For the fair kindncfs you have fliew'd me here, 
 And part being prompted by your prefent trouble, 
 Out of my lean and low ability 
 1*11 lend you fomething ; my Having is not much ; 
 I'll make divifion of my prefent with you: 
 Hold, there's half my coffer. 
 
 Ant. Will you deny me now? 
 Is't poflible, that my deferts to you 
 Can lack perfuafion ? do not tempt my mifery, 
 Left that it make me fo unfound a man, 
 As to upbraid you with thofe kindnefles 
 That I have done for you. 
 
 Vio. I know of none, 
 Nor know I you by voice, or any feature : 
 I hate ingratitude more in a man, 
 Than lying, vainnefs, babling drunkennefs, 
 Or any taint of vice, whofe ftrong corruption 
 Inhabits our frail blood. 
 
 Ant. Oh, heav'ns themfelves ! 
 
 2 Off. Come, Sir, I pray you, go. 
 
 Ant. Let me fpeak a little. This youth that you 
 
 fee here, 
 
 I fnatch'd one half out of the jaws of death ; 
 Reliev'd him with fuch fanclity of love, 
 And to his image, which, methought, did promife 
 Moft venerable worth, did I devotion. 
 
 i Off.
 
 What you 'will. 
 
 I Off. What's that to us ? the time goes by ; away. 
 
 Ant. But oh, how vile an idol proves this God ! 
 Thou haft, Sebaftian^ done good feature fliame. 
 In nature there's no blemilh but the mind: 
 None can be calPd defbrm'd, but the unkind. 
 Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil 
 Are empty trunks, o'erfiourifh'd by the devil. 
 
 i Off. The man grows mad, away with him : 
 Come, come, Sir. 
 
 Ant. Lead me on. [Exit Anthonio with Officers. 
 
 Via, Methinks, his words do from fuch paffion fly, 
 That he believes himfelf ; fo do not I : 
 Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true, 
 That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you ! 
 
 Sir To. Come hither, Knight , come hither, Fabian , 
 we'll whifper o'er a couplet or two of moil fage faws. 
 
 Vio. He nam'd Sebaftian ; I my brother know 
 Yet Jiving in my glafs ; even fuch, and fo 
 In favour was my brother ; and he went 
 Still in this fafliion, colour, ornament ; 
 For him I imitate : oh, if it prove, 
 Tempefts are kind, and fait waves frem in love. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Sir To. A very difhonefl paltry boy, and more a 
 coward than a hare ; his dimonefty appears in leaving 
 his friend here in neceflity, and denying him ; and 
 for his cowardfhip, ask Fabian. 
 
 Fab. A coward, a moft devout coward, religious 
 in it. 
 
 Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him. 
 
 Sir To. Do, cuff him foundly, but never draw thy 
 fword. 
 
 Sir And. An I do not,' [Exit Sir Andrew, 
 
 Fab. Come, let's fee the event. 
 
 Sir To. I dare lay any mony, 'twill be nothing yet. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 N 4 ACT
 
 TwELPTH-NlGHT : Or, 
 
 A C T IV. SCENE I. 
 
 T'be STREET. 
 Enter Sebaftian, and Clown. 
 
 CLOWN. 
 
 WILL you make me believe, that I am not 
 fcnt for you-? 
 
 Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolilh fellow. Let 
 n.c r>e clear of thee. 
 
 Co. Well held out, i'faith : no, I do not know 
 you, nor I am not fent to you by my Lady, to bid 
 you come fpeak with her ; nor your name is not ma- 
 tter Cejario, nor this is not my nofe neither ; nothing, 
 that is fo, is fo. 
 
 Seb. I pr'ythee, vent thy folly fomewhere elfe; 
 thou know 'ft not me. 
 
 Clo. Vent my folly ! he has heard that word of 
 fome great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent 
 my folly! I am afraid, this great lubber the world 
 will prove a cockney: I pr'ythee now, ungird thy 
 ftrangenefs and tell me what 1 (hall vent to my Lady ; 
 (hall I vent to her, that thou art coming? 
 
 Seb. l I pr'ythee, fooliih Greek, depart from me ; 
 there's mony for thee. If you tarry longer, I mail 
 give worfe payment. 
 
 Clo. By my troth, thou haft an open hand ; thefe 
 
 r 1 pr'ytbee, foolt/b Greek,] Greek, was as much as to fay Bawd 
 or Pander. He underftood the Clown to be afting in that office. 
 A bawdy- houfe was called Corinth, and the frequenters of it Co- 
 rinthiam, which words occur frequently in Shakefpear, efpecially 
 in Timon of Athens, and Henry I Vth. See the reafon in a note on 
 the former of thofe plays: Yet the Oxford Editor alters it to 
 Gtck. 
 
 wife
 
 you <u;/7/. 185 
 
 wife men, that give fools mony, * get themfelves a 
 good report after fourteen years' purchafe. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian. 
 
 Sir And. Now, Sir, have I met you again ? there's 
 for you. [Str iking Sebaftian. 
 
 Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there ; 
 are all the people mad ? [Beating Sir Andrew. 
 
 Sir 70. Hold, Sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er 
 the houfc. 
 
 Go. This will I tell my Lady ftraight : I would not 
 be in fome of your coats for two pence. 
 
 \_Exit Clown. 
 
 Sir To. Come on, Sir ; hold. [Holding Sebaftian. 
 
 Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way 
 to work with him 5 I'll have an action of battery 
 againft him, if there be any law in Illyria ; tho' I 
 ftruck him firft, yet it's no matter for that. 
 
 Seb. Let go thy hand. 
 
 Sir To. Come Sir, I will not let you go. Come, 
 my young foldier, put up your iron 5 you are well 
 flefh'd : come on. 
 
 Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldft thou 
 
 now? 
 Jf thou dar'ft tempt me further, draw thy fword. 
 
 Sir To. What, what ? nay, then, I muft have an 
 ounce or two of this' malapert blood from you. 
 
 [They draw and fight. 
 
 2 get themfel<ves a good report after fourteen years 1 pur chafe.] 
 This Teems to carry a piece of fatire upon Monopolies, the crying 
 grievance of that time. The Grants generally were for fourteen 
 years ; and the petitions being referred to a committee, it was fuf- 
 pcfted that money gained favourable reports from thence. 
 
 SCENE
 
 i86 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Olivia. 
 
 Oli. Hold, Tofy , on thy life, I charge thee, hold. 
 
 Sir To. Madam ? 
 
 OIL Will it be ever thus? ungracious wretch, 
 Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, 
 Where manners ne'er were preach'd : out of my fight! 
 Be not offended, dear Cefario : * 
 
 Rudesby, be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend, 
 
 \_Exeunt Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. 
 Let thy fair wifdom, not thy paffion, fway 
 In this uncivil and unjuft extent 
 Againft thy peace. Go with me to my houfe, 
 And hear thou there, how many fruitlefs pranks 
 3 This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby 
 May'fl fmile at this : thou fhalt not chufe but go : 
 Do not deny ; beflirew his foul for me, 
 He darted one poor heart of mine in thee. 
 
 Seb. What relim is in this ? how runs the ftream ? 
 Or I am mad, or elfe this is a dream. 
 Let fancy dill my fenfe in Lethe fteep, 
 If it be thus to dream, ftill let me fleep. 
 
 OIL Nay, come, I pray : 'would, thou'dft be rul'd 
 by me. 
 
 Seb. Madam, I will. 
 
 OIL O, fay fo, and fo be! [Exeunt. 
 
 3 Thi$ ruffian hath botch'd up, ] /'. e. fwelled and inflamed. 
 A botch being a fwelling or abfcefs. 
 
 SCENE
 
 you 'will. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 An Apartment In Olivia'.? Houfe. 
 
 Enter Maria, and Clown. 
 
 Afor.'VTAY, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and 
 JLN this beard ; make him believe, thou art 
 Sir Topas the curate j do it quickly. 1*11 call Sir Tofa 
 the whilft. [Exit Maria. 
 
 Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will diffcmble my- 
 felf in'tj and I would, I were the firft that ever dif- 
 fembled in fuch a gown. I am not tall enough to 
 become the function well, nor lean enough to be 
 thought a good ftudent ; but to be faid an honefl 
 man, and a good houfekeeper, goes as fairly, 4 as to 
 fay, a graceful man and a great fcholar. The com- 
 petitors enter. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Maria. 
 
 Sir To. Jove blefs thee, Mr. Parfon. 
 
 Clo. Bonos diet) Sir Toby ; " for as the old hermit 
 " of Prague^ that never faw pen and ink, s very wit- 
 " tily faid to a neice of King Gorboduck^ that that is, 
 " is: fo I being Mr. P?.rfon, am Mr. Parfon; for 
 " what is that, but that? and is, but is? 
 
 Sir fo. To him, Sir Zopas. 
 
 4 as to fay, a CAREFUL man and a great fcholar. ~\ This refers 
 to what went before, I am not tall enough to become thefunflion 
 nuell, nor lean enough to be thought a good Jludent ; it is plain then 
 that Shake/pear wrote, as to fay a GRACEFUL man, i, e. comely. 
 To this the Oxford Editor lays, reSe. 
 
 5 very wittily faid that that is, is:'] This is a very hu- 
 
 mourgus banter of the rules eftablilhed in the fchools, that all rea- 
 fonings are ex pr^cognitis & presconeejjis, which lay the foundation 
 of every fcience in thefe maxims, -whatfofver is, is; and it is im- 
 pojjihle for the fame thing to be and not to be ; with much trifling of 
 the like kind. 
 
 Clo.
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT : O, 
 
 Clo. What, hoa, I fay, peace in this prifon ! 
 
 Sir -To. The knave counterfeits well ; a good knave. 
 
 [Malvolio within. 
 
 Mai. Who calls there? 
 
 Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to viftt Mal- 
 volio the lunatick. 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas 9 Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to 
 my lady. 
 
 do. Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexed thou this 
 
 man ? 
 Talked thou of nothing but ladies ? 
 
 Sir To. Well faid, mafter Parfon. 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong'd ; good 
 Sir Topas , do not think I am mad ; they have laid 
 me here in hideous darknefs. 
 
 Clo. Fie, thou didioned fathan ; I call thee by the 
 moil modeft terms j for I am one of thofe gentle 
 ones, that will ufe the devil himfelf with curtefie : 
 fay'ft thou, that houfe is dark ? 
 
 Mai. As hell, Sir Topas. 
 
 Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows tranfparent as ba- 
 ricadoes, and the clear ftones towards the fouth-north 
 are as luftrous as ebony i and yet complained thou 
 of obftruftion ? 
 
 MaL I am not mad, Sir Topas ; I fay to you, this 
 houfe is dark. 
 
 Clo. Madman, thou erred ; I fay, there is no dark- 
 nefs but ignorance ; in which thou art more puzzled 
 than the Egyptians in their fog. 
 
 Mai. I fay, this houfe is as dark as ignorance, 
 though ignorance were as dark as hell ; and I fay, 
 there was never man thus abus'd , I am no more mad 
 than you are, make the tryal of it in any condant 
 quedion. 
 
 Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras^ concern- 
 ing wild-fowl ? 
 
 MaL
 
 you 
 
 Mai. That the foul of our grandam might happily 
 inhabit a bird. 
 
 Clo. What think'ft thou of his opinion ? 
 
 Mai. I think nobly of the foul, and no way ap- 
 prove of his opinion. 
 
 Clo. Fare thee well : remain thou ftill in darknefs ; 
 thou malt hold th* opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will 
 allow of thy wits ; and fear to kill a woodcock, 
 left thou difpoflefs the foul of thy grandam. Fare thee 
 well. 
 
 Mai. Sir Topas, Sir Topas ! 
 
 Sir To. My moft exquifite Sir Jopas ! 
 
 Clo. 6 Nay, I am for all waters. 
 
 Mar. Thou might'ft have done this without thy 
 beard and gown ; he fees thee not. 
 
 Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me 
 word how thou find'fl him: I would, we were all 
 rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently de- 
 liver'd, I would, he were ; for I am now fo far in 
 offence with my neice, that I cannot purfue with any 
 fafety this fport to the upfliot. Come by and by to 
 my chamber. [Exit with Maria, 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me bow my lady 
 does. [Singing, 
 
 Mai Fool, 
 
 Clo. My lady is unkind, perdie. 
 
 Mai. Fool, 
 
 Clo. Alas, whyisjhefo? 
 
 Mai. Fool, I fay ; 
 
 Clo. She loves another who calls, ha ? 
 
 6 Nay, 1 am for all waters.] A phrafe taken from the a&or's 
 ability of making the audience cry either with mirth or grief. 
 
 Mai
 
 TwELFTH-NlG HT : Of, 
 
 Mai. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deferve well at 
 my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and 
 paper ; as I am a gentleman, 1 will live to be thank- 
 ful to thee for't. 
 
 Clo. Mr. Mafoolio! 
 
 Mai. Ay, good fool. 
 
 Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you befides your five 
 wits? 
 
 Mai. Fool, there was never man fo notorioufly 
 abus'd ; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. 
 
 Clo. But as well ! then thou art mad, indeed, if you 
 be no better in your wits than a fool. 
 
 Mai. They have here propertied me ; keep me in 
 darknefs, fend minifters to me, affes, and do all they 
 can to face me out of my wits. 
 
 Clo. Advife you what you fay : the minifter is here. 
 Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heav'ns reftore : en- 
 deavour thyfelf to fleep, and leave thy vain bibblc 
 babble. 
 
 Mai. Sir fopas, 
 
 Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. 
 Who, I, Sir? not I, Sir. God b'w'you, good Sir 
 
 fypas 
 
 Marry, amen 1 will, Sir, I will. 
 
 Mai. Fool, fool, fool, I fay. 
 
 Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What fay you, Sir ? I 
 am Ihent for fpeaking to you. 
 
 Mai. Good fool, help me to fome light, and fome 
 paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any 
 man in Illyria. 
 
 Clo. Well-a-day, that you were, Sir! 
 
 Mai. By this hand, I am : good fool, fome ink, 
 paper and light ; and convey what I fet down to my 
 Lady : It fhall advantage thee more than ever the 
 bearing of letter did. 
 
 Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, arc 
 you not mad, indeed, or do you but counterfeit ? 
 
 Mai.
 
 What you will. 
 
 Mai. Believe me, I am not : I tell thee true. 
 
 Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a mad-man, 'till I fee 
 his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. 
 
 Mai. Fool, I'll requite it in the higheft degree ; 
 I pr'ythee, be gone. 
 
 Clo. / am gone, Sir, and anon. Sir, [Singing. 
 
 I'll be with you again 
 In a trice, like to the old vice, 
 
 Tour need to fuftain : 
 Who with dagger of lath, in his rage, and his wrath % 
 
 Cries, ah, ha ! to the devil: 
 Like a mad lad, fare thy nails, dad t 
 
 Adisu, good man drivel. [Exit* 
 
 SCENE V. 
 Changes to another Apartment in Olivia'.? Houfe. 
 
 Enter Sebaftian. 
 
 Seb. r "p H I S is the air, that is the glorious fun ; 
 
 A This pearl me gave me, I do feel't and fcs'c. 
 And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, 
 Yet 'tis not madnefs. Where's Anthonio then ? 
 I could not find him at the Elephant ; 
 Yet there he was, and there 7 1 found this credit, 
 That he did range the town to feek me out. 
 His counfel now might do me golden lervice ; 
 For tho' my foul dilputes well with my fenfe, 
 That this may be fome error, but no madnefs ; 
 Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune 
 So far exceed 8 all inftance, all difcourfe; 
 
 7 1 found this credit,] Credit, for account, information. 
 
 The Oxford Editor roundly alters it to current ; as he does almoft 
 every word that Sbakefpear ufcs in an anomalous /ignification. 
 
 8 all inftance, all difcourfe ;] Inftance, forlenfe; difcourfe, 
 
 for reafoji. 
 
 That
 
 192 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 That I am ready to diftrufl mine eyes, 
 
 And wrangle with my reafon that perfuades me 
 
 To any other truft, but that I'm mad ; 
 
 Or elfe the Lady's mad ; yet if 'twere fo, 
 
 She could not fway her houfe, command her followers. 
 
 Take, and give back affairs, and their difpatch, 
 
 With fuch a fmooth, difcreet, and ftable bearing, 
 
 As, I perceive, me does : there's fomething in't, 
 
 That is deceivable. But here fhe comes. 
 
 Enter Olivia and Priefl. 
 
 Oli. Blame not this hafte of mine : if you mean 
 
 well, 
 
 Now go with me, and with this holy man, 
 Into the chantry by j there before him, 
 And underneath that confecrated roof, 
 Plight me the full affurance of your faith ; 
 That my moft jealous and too doubtful foul 
 May live at peace. He {hall conceal it, 
 Whiles you are willing it fliall come to note j 
 What time we will our celebration keep 
 According to my birth. What do you fay ? 
 
 Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you j 
 And having fworn truth, ever will be true. 
 
 OK. Then lead the way, good father 5 and heav'ns, 
 
 fo mine, 
 That they may fairly note this aft of mine ! 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 ACT
 
 What you 'will. j g 3 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 The S T R E E T. 
 
 Enter Clown, and Fabian. 
 
 FABIAN. 
 
 NO W, as thou lov'ft me, Jet me fee his letter. 
 Clo. Good Mr. Fabian, grant me another 
 requeft. 
 
 Fab. Any thing. 
 
 Clo. Do not defire to fee this letter. 
 Fab. This is to give a dbg, and in recompence de- 
 fire my dog again. 
 
 Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and lords. 
 
 Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends ? 
 
 Clo. Ay, Sir, we are fome of her trappings. 
 
 Duke. 1 know thee well ; how doft thou, my good 
 fellow ? 
 
 Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the 
 worfe for my friends. 
 
 Duke. Juft the contrary , the better for thy friends. 
 
 Clo. No, Sir, the worfe. 
 
 Duke. How can that be ? 
 
 Clo. Marry, Sir, they praife me, and make an afs 
 of me ; now, my foes tell me plainly, I am an afs : 
 ib that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of 
 myfelf; and by my friends lamabufed: * fo that, 
 
 con- 
 
 i fo that conclu/ions to be as kifles, ] Tho' it might be unrea- 
 fonable to call our Poet's fools and knaves every where to account; 
 yet, if we did, for the generality, we mould find them refponuble. 
 But what monllrous abfurdity have we here ? the Clown is affeft- 
 ing to argue ferioufly and in form. 1 imagine> the Poet wrote; 
 89 that, conclujion to be asked, is 
 
 VOL. III. O it.
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 conclufion to be asked, is, if your four negatives make 
 your two affirmatives, why, then the worfe for my 
 friends, and the better for my foes. 
 
 Duke. Why, this is excellent. 
 
 Clo. By my troth, Sir, no ; tho' it pleafe you to 
 be one of my friends. 
 
 Duke. Thou malt not be the worfe for me, there's 
 gold. 
 
 Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I 
 would, you could make it another. 
 
 Duke O, you give me ill counfel. 
 
 Clo. jfut your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this 
 once, and let your fiefh and blood obey it. 
 
 Duke. Well, J will be fo much afinner to be a dou- 
 ble-dealer : there's another. 
 
 Clo. PriinO) fecundo, tertio, is a good Play, and the 
 old faying is, the third pays for all : the triplex, Sir, 
 is a good tripping mtafure i or the bells of St. Btnnct, 
 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 fpeak with her, and bring her along with you, it 
 may awake my bounty further. 
 
 Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty 'till I come 
 again. I go, Sir, but I would not have you to think, 
 that my defire of having is the Tin of covetoufnefs ; 
 but, as you fay, Sir, let your bounty takea nap, and I 
 will awake it anon. [Exit Clown. 
 
 SCENE II, 
 
 Enter Antonio, and Officers. 
 Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did refcue me. 
 
 /. /. fo that the conclufion I have to demand of you is this, if your 
 tour, fcfr. He had in the preceding words been inferring iome 
 premifes, and new comes to the conclufion very logically ; you grant 
 me, fayi he, the premifes j I now ask you to grant the conclufion.
 
 ou 
 
 Duke. That face of his I do remember well $ 
 Yet when I faw it laft, it was befmear'd 
 As black as Vulcan^ in the fmoak of war : 
 A bawbling veflel was he captain of, 
 For lhallow draught and bulk unprizable, 
 With which fuch icathful grapple did he make 
 With the moft noble bottom of our fleet, 
 That very envy and the tongue of lofs 
 Cry'd fame and honour on him. What's the matter ? 
 
 i Offi. Orjino, this is that Antonio ^ 
 That took the Phcenix and her fraught from Candy 5 
 And this is he, that did the Tyger board, 
 When your young nephew Titus loft his leg : 
 Here in the ftreets, defperate of fharne and ftate, 
 In private brabble did we apprehend him. 
 
 rio. He did me kindnefs, Sir j drew on my fide j 
 But in conclufion put ftrange fpeech upon me, 
 I know not what 'twas, but diftradtion. 
 
 Duke. Notable pirate ! thou fait- water thief! 
 What foolifh boldnefs brought thee to their mercies, 
 Whom thou in terms fo bloody, and fo dear, 
 Haft made thine enemies ? 
 
 Ant. Orjino, noble Sir, 
 
 Be pleafed that I (hake offthefe names you give me; 
 Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate ; 
 Though I confefs, on bafe and ground enough, 
 Orjino^s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither : 
 That moft ungrateful boy there, by your fide, 
 From the rude fea's enrag'd and foamy mouth 
 Did I redeem i a wreck pad hope he was : 
 His life I gave him, and did thereto add 
 My love without retention or reftraint , 
 All his in dedication. For his fake, 
 Did I expofe myielf (pure, for his love) 
 Into the danger of this adverfe town ; 
 Drew to defend him, when he was befet ; 
 Where being apprehended, his falfc cunning 
 
 O 2 (Net
 
 196 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 (Not meaning to partake with me in danger) 
 
 Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance ; 
 
 And grew a twenty years removed thing, 
 
 While one would wink : deny'd me mine own purfe, 
 
 Which I had recommended to his ufe 
 
 Not half an hour before. 
 
 Vw. How can this be ? 
 
 Duke. When came he to this town ? 
 
 Ant. Today, my lord ; and for three months before, 
 (No Interim, not a minute's vacancy,) 
 Both day and night did we keep company. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Olivia, and Attendants. 
 
 Duke. Here comes the countefs ; now heav'n walks 
 
 on earth. 
 
 But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madnefs : 
 Three months this youth hath tended upon me ; 
 But more of that anon Take him afide. 
 
 Oh. What would my lord, but that he may not have, 
 Wherein Olivia may feem ferviceable ? 
 Cefarioy you do not keep promife with me. 
 
 Pio. Madam ! 
 
 Duke. Gracious Olivia, 
 
 OH. What do you fay, Cefario ? Good my lord 
 
 Vio. My lord would fpeak, my duty hufhes me. 
 
 OH. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, 
 It is as * fiat and fulfome to mine ear, 
 As howling after muikk. 
 
 Duke. Still fo cruel ? 
 
 Oli. Still fo conftant, lord. 
 
 Duke. What, to perverfenefs ? you uncivil lady, 
 To whofe ingrate and unaufpicious altars 
 
 2 at FAT andfulfomi} We ftiould read, at FLAT. 
 
 My
 
 What you ow7/. 197 
 
 My foul the faithfull'ft offerings has breath *d out, 
 That e'er devotion tender'd. What fhall I do? 
 
 Oil. Ev'n what itpleafe my lord, that fhalJ become 
 him. 
 
 Duke. Why mould I not, had I the heart to do't, 
 J Like to th' Egyptian thief, at point of death 
 Kill what I love? (a favage jealoufie, 
 That fometimes favours nobly ;) but hear me this: 
 Since you to non-regardance caft my faith, 
 And that I partly know the inftrument, 
 That fcrews me from my true place in your favour : 
 Live you the marble- breafted tyrant ftill. 
 But this your minion, whom, I know, you love, 
 And whom, by heav'n, I fwear, I tender dearly, 
 Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, 
 Where he fits crowned in his matter's fpight. 
 Come, boy, with me 5 my thoughts are ripe in mif- 
 
 chief : 
 
 I'll facrifice the lamb that I do Jove, 
 To fpight a raven's heart within a dove. [Duke going. 
 
 Vio. And I mod jocund, apt, and willingly, 
 To do you reft, a thoufand deaths would die. [following. 
 
 OIL Where goes Cefario ? 
 
 Vio. After him I love, 
 
 More than I love thefe eyes, more than my life j 
 More, by all mores, than e'er I fhall love wife. 
 If I do feign, you witnefles above 
 Punifh my life, for tainting of my love ! 
 
 OH. Ay me, detefted ! how am I beguil'd ? 
 
 Pio. Who does beguile you ? who does do you wrong r 
 
 Oli. Haft thou forgot thy felf ? Is it fo long ? 
 Call forth the holy father. 
 
 Duke. Come, away. [To Viola. 
 
 OH. W T hither, my lord ? Cefario, husband, flay. 
 
 3 Like to th" Egyptian thief, ] This E^jf'lian thief was 1%ya- 
 m'ti. See Heltodoruii's jEthiopics. Mr. Theobald. 
 
 O 3 Duke.
 
 PtH-NiGHT: Or, 
 
 Duke. Husband ? 
 
 Oli. Ay, husband. Can he that deny ? 
 
 JM<?. Her husband, firrah ? 
 
 /'w. No, my lord, not 1. 
 
 Oli. Alas, it is the bafenefs of thy fear, 
 That makes thee ftrangle thy propriety : 
 Fear not, Cefario, take thy fortunes up : 
 Be that, thou know'ft, thou art, and then thou art 
 AS great, as that thou fear'ft. 
 
 Enter Prieft, 
 
 welcome, father. 
 
 Father, I charge thee by thy reverence 
 Here to unfold, (tho* lately we intended 
 To keep in darknefs, what occafion now 
 Reveals before 'tis ripe) what, thou doft know, 
 Hath newly pad between this youth and me. 
 Prieft. A contract of eternal bond of love, 
 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 
 Attefted by the holy clofe of lips, 
 Strengthened by enterchangement 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, tow'rd my grave 
 
 1 have travel! *d but two hours. 
 
 Duke. O thou diffembling cub! what wilt thou be, 
 When time hath fow'd a grizzel on thy cafe ? 
 Or will not clfe thy craft fo quickly grow, 
 That thine own trip (hall be thine overthrow ? 
 Farewel, and take her ; but direct thy feet, 
 Where t hou and I henceforth may never meet. 
 
 Via. My lord, I do proteft 
 
 Oil. O, do not fwear \ 
 Hold little faith, tho' thou haft too much fear ! 
 
 SCENE
 
 What you will. 1 99 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Sir Andrew, with bis bead broke. 
 
 Sir And. For the Jove of God a furgeon> and fend 
 one prefently to Sir Toby. 
 
 Oli. What's the matter ? 
 
 Sir And. H'as broke my head a-crofs, and given 
 Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too : for the Jove of God, 
 your help. I had rather than forty pound, I were at 
 home. 
 
 Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew ? 
 
 Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cefario ; we 
 tools him for a coward, but he's the very devil incar- 
 dinate. 
 
 Duke. My gentleman, Cefario ? 
 
 Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is : you broke my 
 head for nothing ; and that that I did, I was fet on to 
 do't by Sir Toby. 
 
 Vio. Why do you fpeak to me ? I never hurt you : 
 You drew your fword upon me, without caufe; 
 But I befpake you fair, and hurt you not. 
 
 Enter Sir Toby, and Clown. 
 
 Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have 
 hurt me : I think, you fet nothing by a bloody cox- 
 comb. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you (hall hear 
 more , but if he had not been in drink, he would have 
 tickled you other-gates than he did. 
 
 Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? 
 
 Sir To. That's all one, he has hurt me, and there's 
 an end on*t ; fot, didft fee Dick Surgeon, fot ? 
 
 Clo. O he's drunk, Sir Toby, above an hour agone ; 
 his eyes were fet at eight i'th* morning. 
 
 Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a paft-meafure Painim* 
 I hate a drunken rogue. 
 
 O 4 0! <>
 
 200 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 OK. Away with him : who hath made this havock 
 with them ? 
 
 Sir And. I'll help you, Sir 7%, becaufe we'll be 
 dreft together. 
 
 Sir !70. Will you help an aft- head, and a coxcomb, 
 and a knave, a thin-fac'd knave, a gull ? 
 
 [Exeunt Clo. To. and And, 
 
 OU. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Sebaflian. 
 
 Seb. I am forry, Madam, I have hurt your kinfmam : 
 But had it been the brother of my blood, 
 I muft have done no lefs with wit and fafety. 
 
 \_Allftand in amaze. 
 
 You throw a ftrange regard on me, by which, 
 I do perceive, it hath offended you ; 
 Pardon me, fweet one, even for the vows 
 We made each other, but fo late ago. 
 
 Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two 
 
 perfons ; 
 A nat'ral perfpeclive, that is, and is not! 
 
 Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio ! 
 How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, 
 Since I have loft thee ? 
 
 Ant. Sebaflian are you ? 
 
 Seb. Fear 'ft thou that, Antonio ! 
 
 Ant. How have you made divifion of your felf ? 
 An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 
 Then thefe two creatures. Which is Sebaftian ? 
 
 OH. Moft wonderful ! 
 
 Seb. Do I ftand there ? I never had a brother 
 Nor can there be that deity in my nature, 
 Of here and every where. I had a fifter, 
 Whom the blind waves and furges have devour'd : 
 
 Of
 
 What yon 'will. 20 r 
 
 Of charity, what kin are you to me ? [To Viola. 
 
 What countryman ? what name ? what parentage ? 
 
 Vw. Of Meffaline ; Sebaftian was my father ; 
 Such a Sebaftian was my brother too : 
 So went he fuited to his wat'ry tomb. 
 If fpirits can affume both form and fuit, 
 You come to fright us. 
 
 Seb. A fpirit I am, indeed ; 
 But am in that dimenfion grofsly clad, 
 Which from the womb I did participate. 
 Were you a woman, as the reft goes even, 
 I (hould my tears let fall upon your cheek, 
 And fay, " Thrice welcome, drowned Viola ! 
 
 Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. 
 
 Seb. And fo had mine. 
 
 Vio. And dy'd that day, when Viola from her birth 
 Had numbred thirteen years. 
 
 Seb. O, that record is lively in my foul ; 
 He finiftied, indeed, his mortal acl, 
 That day that made my fifter thirteen years. 
 
 Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both, 
 But this my mafculine ufurp'd attire ; 
 Do not embrace me, 'till each circumftance 
 Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump, 
 That I am Viola ; which to confirm, 
 I'll bring you to a captain in this town 
 Where lye my maids weeds , by whofe gentle help 
 I was preferv'd to ferve this noble Duke. 
 All the occurrence of my fortune fince 
 Hath been between this Lady, and this Lord. 
 
 Seb. So comes it, Lady, you have been miftook : 
 
 [20 Olivia. 
 
 But nature to her bias drew in that. 
 You would have been contracted to a maid, 
 Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd ; 
 You are betroth'd both to a maid, and man. 
 
 Duke,
 
 TWELFTH-NIGHT: Or, 
 
 Duke. Be not amaz'd : right-noble is his blood . 
 If this be fo, as yet the glafs feems true, 
 I fhall have {hare in this moft happy wreck. 
 Boy, thou haft faid to me a thoufand times, [To Vie. 
 Thou never fhould'ft love woman like to me. 
 
 Vio. And all thofefayings will I over-fwear, 
 And all thofe fwearings keep as true in foul ; 
 As doth that orbed continent the fire, 
 That fevers day from night. 
 
 Duke. Give me thy hand, 
 And let me fee thee in thy woman's weeds. 
 
 Vio. The captain, that did bring me firft on (hore. 
 Hath my maids garments : he upon fome action 
 Is now in durance, at Malvolio's fuit, 
 A gentleman and follower of my lady's. 
 
 Oli. He fhall enlarge him : fetch Maholio hither. 
 And yet, alas, now I remember me, 
 They fay, poor gentleman ! he's much diffract. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter the Clown with a letter^ and Fabian. 
 
 4 A moft extracting frertey of mine own 
 From my remembrance clearly banifh'd his. 
 How does he, firrah ? 
 
 Clo. Truly, Madam, he holds Belzebub at the ftave's 
 end, as well as a man in his cafe may do : h'as here 
 writ a letter to you, I fhould have given't you to day 
 morning. But as a mad-man's epiftles are no gofpels, 
 fo it skills not much, when they are deliver'd. 
 
 OIL Open't, and read it. 
 
 Clo. Look then, to be well edify'd, when the fool 
 
 delivers the mad-man By the Lord, Madam, 
 
 [Reads. 
 
 4 A >3/? ex trailing frenzy ] i. e. A frenzy that drew me away 
 from everything but icsown objeft. 
 
 OH.
 
 What you ow//. 
 
 OIL How now, art mad ? 
 
 Clo. No, Madam, I do but read madnefs : an your 
 Ladyfhip will have it as it ought to be, you mult al- 
 low Vox. 
 
 OIL Pr'ythee, read it, i'thy right wits. 
 
 Clo. Sol do, Madona ; but to read his right wits, 
 is to read thus : therefore perpend, my princefs, and 
 give ear. 
 
 OIL Read it you, firrah. [To Fabian. 
 
 Fab. [[Reads, j By the Lord^ Madam^ you wrong 
 we^ and the world Jhall know it : though you have -put 
 me into darknefs, and given your drunken Uncle rule 
 over me, yet have I the benefit of my fenfes as well as 
 your Lady/hip. I have your own Letter \ that induced 
 me to the femblance I put on ; with the which 1 doubt 
 not, but to do my f elf much right ^ or you much Jhame : 
 think of mt 9 as you pleafe : 1 leave my duty a little un- 
 th ought of, and f peak out of my injury. 
 
 The madly us'd Malvolio. 
 
 OH. Did he write this ? 
 
 Clo. Ay, Madam. 
 
 Duke* This favours not much of diftraftion. 
 
 OIL See him deliver'd, Fabian -, bring him hither. 
 My Lord, fo pleafe you, thefe things further thought on, 
 To think me as well a fifter, as a wife ; 
 One day fhall crown th* alliance on't, fo pleafe you, 
 Here at my houfe, and at my proper cod. 
 
 Duke. Madam, I am moft apt t'embrace your offer. 
 Your matter quits you ; and for your fervice done him, 
 So much againft the metal of your fex, [To Viola. 
 So far beneath your foft and tender breeding *, 
 (And fince you call'd me matter for fo long,) 
 Here is my hand, you fhall from this time be 
 Your matter's miftrefs. 
 
 Oli. A fifter, you are me. 
 
 S GENE
 
 TWELFTH- NIG HT: Or, 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter MalvoJio. 
 
 Duke. Is this the mad-man ? 
 
 Oli, Ay, my Lord, this fame ; how now, Maholio? 
 
 MaL Madam, you have done me wrong, notorious 
 wrong. 
 
 OR. Have I , Maholio ? no. 
 
 Mai. Lady, you have ; pray you, perufethat Letter. 
 You mud not now deny it is your hand. 
 Write from it if you can, in hand or phrafe j 
 Or fay, 'tis not your feal, nor your invention ; 
 You can fay none of this. Well, grant it then ; 
 And tell me in the modefty of honour, 
 Why you have given mefuch clear lights of favour, 
 Bad me come fmiling, and crofs-garter'd to you, 
 To put on yellow {lockings, and to frown 
 Upon Sir Toby, and the lighter people : 
 And acting this in an obedient hope, 
 Why have you fuffer'd me to be imprifon'd, 
 Kept in a dark houfe, vifited by the prieft, 
 And made the moft notorious geek, and gull, 
 That e'er invention plaid on ? tell me, why ? 
 
 Oli. Alas, Maholio, this is not my writing, 
 Tho', I confefs, much like the character : 
 But, out of queftion, 'tis Maria's hand. 
 And now I do bethink me, it was fhe 
 Firft told me, thou waft mad 5 then cam'ft thou 
 
 fmiling, 
 
 And in fuch forms which s here were prefuppos'd 
 Upon thee in the letter : pr'ythee, be content ; 
 This practice hath moft flirewdly paft upon thee ; 
 But when we know the grounds, and authors of it, 
 
 5 here were prefuppos'd] Prtfuppotd, for impofed. 
 
 Thou
 
 What you oi>/7/. 
 
 Thou flialt be both the plaintiff and the judge 
 Of thine own caufe. 
 
 Fab. Good Madam, hear me fpeak ; 
 And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, 
 Taint the condition of this prefent hour 
 Which I have wondred at. In hope it (hall not, 
 Moft freely I confefs, myfelf and Sir foby 
 Set this device againft Maholio here, 
 Upon fome ftubborn and uncourteous parts 
 We had conceiv'd againft him. Maria writ 
 The letter, at Sir Tobfs great importance -, 
 In recompence whereof, he hath married her. 
 How with a fportful malice it was follow'd, 
 May rather pluck on laughter than revenge , 
 If that the injuries be juftly weigh'd, 
 That have on both fides paft. 
 
 OH. Alas, poor fool ! how have they baffled thee ? 
 
 Clo. Why, fome are born great^ fome atchieve great- 
 nefS) and fome lave greatneft thruft upon them. \ was 
 one, Sir, in this interlude ; one Sir fopas, Sir; but 
 that's all one : by the Lord,fool^ I am not mad\ but 
 do you remember, Madam, why laugh you at fucb 
 a barren rafcal ? an you fmile not, he's gagg'd : and 
 thus the whirl-gigg ot time brings in his revenges. 
 
 Mai. 1*11 be reveng'd on the whole pack of you. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 OIL He hath been moft notorioufly abus'd. 
 
 Duke. Purfue him, and intreat him to a peace: 
 He hath not told us of the captain yet ; 
 When that is known, and golden time convents, 
 A folemn combination (hall be made 
 Of our dear fouls. Mean time, fweet filter, 
 We will not part from hence. Cefario, come i 
 (For fo you (hall be, while you are a man ;) 
 But when in other habits you are feen, 
 Orfwo's miftrefs, and his fancy's Queen. [Exeunt. 
 
 Clown
 
 2C>6 TwELfTH-NlGHT, &C. 
 
 Clown fings. 
 
 6 When that I was a little tiny boy^ 
 
 With bey, bo, the wind and the rain : 
 Afoolijh thing was but a toy y 
 
 For the rain it raineth every day. 
 But when I came to man's eft ate, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 'Gainft knaves and thieves men Jhut their gate, 
 
 For the rain, &c. 
 But when I came, alas ! to wive, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 Byfwaggering could I never thrive, 
 
 For the rain, &c. 
 But when I came unto my beds. 
 
 With hey, ho, d :. 
 With tofs-pots ftill had drunken heads^ 
 
 For the rain, &c. 
 A great while ago the v. wld begun, 
 
 With hey, ho, &c. 
 But thafs all one, our play is done ; 
 
 And we'llftrive to pleafe you every day. [Exit. 
 
 6 When that I was, &c.] This wretched fluff not Sbakefpear's, 
 but the Players ! 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 COMEDY 
 
 O F 
 
 ERRORS.
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONM. 
 
 S A L I N U S, Duke of Ephefus. 
 jfEgeon, a Merchant 0/Syracufe. 
 
 / T- L r 1 fwin-Brotbers, and Sons to 
 Antipholis of Ephefus, / _ j , _ ... , 
 
 A L r fc r f ^Egeon ^J Emilia, but 
 Antipholis of Syracufc, \ 
 
 ] unknown to each other. 
 
 Dromio of Ephefus, ^ Twin- Brother -5, and Slaves to tie 
 
 Dromio of Syracufe, ] two Antipholis'j. 
 
 Balthazar, a Merchant. 
 
 Angelo, a Goldfmlth. 
 
 A Merchant^ Friend to Antipholis 0/Syracufe. 
 
 Dr. Pinch, a School-wafer, and a Conjurer. 
 
 Emilia, Wife to JEgeon, anAbbefs at Ephefus. 
 Adriana, Wife to Antipholis of Ephefus. 
 Luciana, Sifter to Adriana. 
 Luce, Servant to Adriana. 
 
 Jailor, Officers, and other Attendants. 
 SCENE, Ephefus. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 COMEDY of ERRORS. 
 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 <fl>e Duke's Palace. 
 
 Enter the Duke of Ephefus, Pigeon, Jailor ^ and 
 other Attendants. 
 
 JE G E O N. 
 
 ROCKED, Salinus* to procure my fall, 
 And by the doom of death end woes and all. 
 Duke. Merchant of Syracufe^ plead no 
 
 more; 
 
 I am not partial to infringe our laws : 
 The enmity, and difcord, which of late 
 Sprung from the ranc'rous outrage of your Duke, 
 To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, 
 (Who, wanting gilders to redeem their lives, 
 Have leal'd his rigorous ftatutes with their bloods) 
 Excludes all pity from our threatning looks. 
 For, fince the mortal and inteftine jars 
 'Twixt thy feditious countrymen and us, 
 It hath in folemn fynods been decreed, 
 
 VOL. III. P Both
 
 2io The Comedy of E RRORS. 
 
 Both by the Syracufam and ourfelves, 
 T'admit no traffick to our adverfe towns. 
 Nay, more ; if any born at Epbefus 
 Be feen at Syracufan marts and fairs, 
 Again, if any Syracufan born 
 Come to the bay of Ephefus, he dies : 
 His goods confifcate to the Duke's difpofe, 
 Unlels a thoufand marks be levied 
 To quit the penalty, and ranfom him. 
 Thy fubftance, valu'd at the higheft rate, 
 Cannot amount unto a hundred marks ; 
 Therefore, by law thou art condemn'd to die. 
 
 &geon. Yet this my comfort, when your words are 
 
 done, 
 My woes end likewife with the evening fun. 
 
 Duke. Well, Syracufan, fay, in brief, the caufe, 
 Why thou departed'ft from thy native homej 
 And for what caufe thou cam'ft to Epbefus. 
 
 JEgeon. A heavier task could not have been impos'dj 
 Than I to fpeak my grief unfpeakable : 
 Yet that the world may witnefs, that my end 
 1 Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, 
 I'll utter what my forrow gives me leave. 
 In Syracufa was I born, and wed 
 Unto a woman, happy but for me ; 
 And by me too, had not our hap been bad : 
 With her 1 liv'd in joy , our wealth increas'd, 
 
 I Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence,] All his hearers 
 underftcod that the punifljment he was about to undergo was in 
 confequence of no private crime, but of the publick enmity be- 
 tween two ftates, to one of which he belonged : But it was a general 
 fuperftition amongft the ancients, that every great and fudden mif- 
 fortune was the vengeance of heaven purfuing men for their fecret 
 offences. Hence the fentiment here put into the mouth of the 
 fpeaker was proper. By my pall life, (fays he) which I am going 
 to relate, the world may underftand that my prefent death is ac- 
 cording to the ordinary courfe of providence, [wrought by nature} 
 and not the efFc^s of divine vengeance overtaking me for my 
 crimes, [not by v:U offence.] 
 
 By
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 211 
 
 By profperous 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 fpoufe ; 
 From whom my abfence was not fix months old. 
 Before herfelf (almoft at fainting under 
 The pleafing punilhment that women bear) 
 Had made provifion for her following me, 
 And foon, and fafe, arrived where I was. 
 There me had not been long, but me became 
 A joyful mother of two goodly fons ; 
 And, which was ftrange, the one fo like the other, 
 As could not be diftinguifh'd but by names. 
 That very hour, and in the felf-fame inn, 
 A poor mean woman was delivered 
 Of fuch a burthen, male-twins both alike: 
 Thofe (for their parents were exceeding poor) 
 I bought, and brought up to attend my fons. 
 My wife, not meanly proud of two fuch boys, 
 Made daily motions for our home-return : 
 Unwilling, I agreed ; alas, too foon ! 
 We came aboard. 
 
 A league from Epidamnum had we fail'd, 
 Before the always-wind-obeying deep 
 Gave any tragick inftance of our harm ; 
 But longer did we not retain much hope : 
 For what obfcured light the heav'ns did grant, 
 Did but convey unto our fearful minds 
 A doubtful warrant of immediate death ; 
 Which, tho' myfelf would gladly have embrac'd, 
 Yet the incefTant weeping of my wife, 
 (Weeping before, for what (he law muft come ;) 
 And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, 
 That mourn'd for falhion, ignorant what to fear, 
 Forc'd me to feek delays for them and me: 
 And this it was , (for other means were none.) 
 The failors fought for fafety by our boat, 
 
 P 2 And
 
 the Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 And left the (hip, then finking-ripe, to us; 
 My wife, more careful for the elder born, 
 Had faften'd him unto a fmall fpare maft, 
 Such as fea-faring men provide for ftorms ; 
 To him one of the other twins was bound, 
 Whilft I had been like heedful of the other. 
 The children thus difpos'd, my wife and I, 
 Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fixt, 
 Faften'd ourielves at either end the maft ; 
 And floating ftraight, obedient to the ttream, 
 Were carry'd towards Corinth, as we thought. 
 At length the fun, gazing upon the earth, 
 Difpers'd thofe vapours that offended us ; 
 And, by the benefit of his wifh'd light, 
 The Teas waxt calm -, and we difcovered 
 Two mips from far making amain to us, 
 Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this; 
 But ere they came oh, let me fay no more! 
 Gather the fequel by that went before. 
 
 Duke. Nay, forward, old man, do not break offfo ; 
 For we may pity, tho' not pardon thee. 
 
 JLgeon. Oh, had the Gods done fo, I had not now 
 Worthily term'd them mercilefs to us; 
 For ere the fhips could meet by twice five leagues, 
 We were encountered by a mighty rock ; 
 Which being violently borne upon, 
 Our hclplefs fhip was fplitted in the midft : 
 So that, in this unjuft divorce of us, 
 Fortune had left to both of us alike 
 What to delight in, what to forrow for. 
 Her part, poor foul! feeming as burdened 
 With lefler weight, but not with leffer woe, 
 Was carry'd wkh more fpeed before the wind, 
 And in our fight they three were taken up 
 By fifhermen of Corinth, as we thought. 
 At length, another (hip had feiz'd on us ; 
 And knowing whom it was their hap to fave, 
 
 Gave
 
 The Comedy of E R n o R s. 213 
 
 helpful welcome to their fhipwreckt guefts; 
 And would have reft the fi fliers of their prey, 
 Had not their bark been very flow of fail ; 
 And therefore homeward did they bend their courfe. 
 Thus have you heard me fever'd from my blifs; 
 That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, 
 To tell fad {lories of my own mi (taps. 
 
 Duke. And, for the fakes of them thou forrow'ft for, 
 Do me the favour to dilate at full 
 What hath befall'n of them, and thee, 'till now. 
 
 jEgeon. My youngeft boy, and yet my eldeft care, 
 At eighteen years became inquifitive 
 After his brother; and importun'd me, 
 That his attendant., (for his cafe was like, 
 Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name,) 
 Might bear him company in queft of him: 
 Whom whilft I labour'd of a love to fee, 
 I hazarded the lofs of whom I lov'd. 
 Five fummers have I fpent in fartheft Greece ', 
 Roaming clean through the bounds of Afia^ 
 And coaiting homeward, came to Epbefus : 
 Hopelefs to find, yet loth to leave unfought, 
 Or that, or any place that harbours men. 
 But here muft end the (lory of my life ; 
 And happy were I in my timely death, 
 Could all my travels warrant me they live. 
 
 Duke. Haplefs JEgeon^ whom the fates have markt 
 To bear th* extremity of dire mimap ; 
 Now, truft me, were it not againft our laws, 
 (Which Princes, would they, may not difannul;) 
 Againft my crown, my oath, my dignity, 
 My foul fhould fue as advocate for thee. 
 But, tho* thou art adjudged to the death, 
 And paired fentence may not be recall'd, 
 But to our honour's great difparagement ; 
 Yet will I favour thee in what I can i 
 I therefore, merchant, Jimit thee this day, 
 
 ? To
 
 Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 To feek thy life by beneficial help: 
 Try all the friends thou haft in Epbefus, 
 Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the fum, 
 And live ; if not, then thou art doom'd to die. 
 Jailor, take him to thy cuftody. 
 
 \_Exeunt Duke, and Train, 
 
 Jail. I will, my Lord. 
 
 JEgeon. Hopelefs and helplefs doth Mgeon wend, 
 But to procraftinate his lifelefs end. 
 
 [Exeunt ^Egeon, and Jailor, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to the Street. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Syracufe, a Merchant, and 
 Dromio. 
 
 Afcr.'~pHerefore give out, you are of Epidamnum, 
 
 A Left that your goods too foon be confifcate. 
 This very day, a Syracufan merchant 
 Is apprehended for arrival here ; 
 And, not being able to buy out his life, 
 According to the ftatute of the town, 
 Dies ere the weary fun fet in the weft : 
 There is your mony, that I had to keep. 
 
 Ant. Go bear it to the Centaur^ where we ho ft, 
 And flay there, Dromio^ 'till I come to thee: 
 Within this hour it will be dinner time ; 
 'Till that I'll view the manners of the town, 
 Perufe the traders, gaze upon the buildings, 
 And then return and fleep within mine inn ; 
 For with long travel I am ftiff and weary. 
 Get thee away. 
 
 Dro. Many a man would take you at your word, 
 And go indeed, having fo good a means. 
 
 [Exit Dromio. 
 
 Ant,
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 215 
 
 Ant. A trufty villain, Sir, that very oft, 
 When I am dull with care and melancholy, 
 Lightens my humour with his merry jefts. 
 What, will you walk with me about the town, 
 And then go to the inn and dine with me? 
 
 Mer. I am invited, Sir, to certain merchants, 
 Of whom I hope to make much benefit : 
 I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, 
 Pleafe you, I'll meet with you upon the mart, 
 And afterward confort you 'till bed-time: 
 My prefent bufinefs calls me from you now. 
 
 Ant. Farewel 'till then ; I will go lofe myfelf, 
 And wander up and down to view the city. 
 
 Mer. Sir^ I commend you to your own content. 
 
 [Exit Merchant. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Ant. He that commends me to my own content, 
 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 
 I to the world am like a drop of water, 
 That in the ocean feeks another drop, 
 Who falling there to find his fellow forth, 
 Unfeen inquilitive, confounds himfelf : 
 So I, to find a mother and a brother, 
 In queft of them, unhappy, lofe myfelf. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Ephefus. 
 
 Here comes the almanack of my true date. 
 What now ? how chance, thou art return'd fo foon ? 
 E. Dro. Return'd fo foon ! rather approach'd too 
 
 late : 
 
 The capon burns, the pig falls from the fpit, 
 The clock has ftrucken twelve upon the bell j 
 My miftrefs made it one upon my cheek ; 
 She is fo hot, becaufe the meat is cold ; 
 The meat is cold, becaufe you come not home ; 
 
 P 4 You
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 You come not home, becaufe you have no ftomach ; 
 You have no ftomach, having broke your fait: 
 But we, that know what 'tis to fad and pray, 
 Are penitent for your default to day. 
 
 Ant. Stop in your wind, Sir , tell me this, I pray, 
 Where you have left the mony that I gave you ? 
 
 E Dro. Oh, fix-pence, that I had z.Wednefday\z.^ 
 To pay the fadler for my miftrefs' crupper ? 
 The fadler had it, Sir; I kept it not, 
 
 Ant. I am not in a fportive humour now j 
 Tell me and dally not, where is the mony ? 
 We being ftrangers here, how dar'ft thou truft 
 So great a charge from thine own cuftody ? 
 
 E. Dro. I pray you, jeft, Sir, as you fit at dinner: 
 I from rry miftrefs come to you in poft ; 
 If I return, I mail be poft indeed ; 
 For (he will fcore your fault upon my pate: 
 Methinks, your maw, like mine, mould be your clock ; 
 And ftrike you home without a meffenger. 
 
 Ant. Come, Dromio, come, thefe jefts are out of 
 
 feafon ; 
 
 Referve them 'till a merrier hour than this : 
 Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? 
 
 E. Dro. To me, Sir ? why, you gave no gold to me. 
 Ant. Come on, Sir knave, have done your foolifhnefs ; 
 And tell me, how thou halt dilpos'd thy charge? 
 E. Dro. My charge was but to fetch you from the 
 
 mart 
 
 Home to your houfe, the Phoenix* Sir, to dinner j 
 My miftrefs and her fifter ftay for you. 
 
 Ant. Now, as I am a chriftian anfwer me, 
 In what fafe place you have beftow'd my mony i 
 Or I mall break that merry fconce of yours, 
 That ftands on tricks when I am undifpos'd ; 
 Where are the thoufand marks thou hadft of me ? 
 
 E. Dro. I have fome marks of yours upon my pate j 
 Some of my miftrefs' marks upon my fhoulders ; 
 
 But
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Put not a thoufand marks between you both. 
 If I mould pay your worfhip thofe again, 
 Perchance, you will not bear them patiently. 
 
 Ant. Thy miftrefs' marks? what miftrefs, flave, 
 haft thou ? [Pbanix ; 
 
 E. Dro. Your worfhip's wife, my miftrefs at the 
 She, that doth faft, 'till you come home to dinner j 
 And prays, that you will hie you home to dinner. 
 
 Ant. What wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, 
 Being forbid ? there take you that, Sir knave. 
 
 E. Dro. What mean you, Sir? for God's fake, hold 
 
 your hands ; 
 Nay, an you will not, Sir, I'll take my heels. 
 
 [Exit Dromio. 
 
 Ant, Upon my life, by fome device or other, 
 The villain is o'er-wrought of all my mony. 
 2 They fay, this town is full of couzenagej 
 \ As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye ; 
 
 2 They fay, this town is full of c ouxenage ; ] This was the cha- 
 rafter the ancients give of it. Hence tQ-fia. ^^i^et^^fut, 
 was proverbial amongft them. Thus Menander ufes it, '& "E^-yiet, 
 Q/pw'/y.jwal*, in the fame fenfe. 
 
 3 As, nimble jugglers, that deceive the eye ; 
 
 Dark- working forcerers, that change the mind; 
 
 Soul-killing witches, that deform the hotly ;] Thofe who atten- 
 tively ccnfider thefe three lines, muft confefs that the Poet inten- 
 ded, tire epithet given to each of thefe mifcreants, fhould declare 
 the power by which they perform their feats, and which would 
 therefore be a juft charafteriftick of each of them. Thus, by 
 nimble jugglers, we are taught that they perform their tricks by 
 flight of hand: and by foul-killing witches, we are inform'd, the 
 
 mifchief they do is by the affiftance of the devil, to whom they 
 have given their fouls : But then, by dark working Sorcerers, we 
 are not inltrucled in the means by which they perform their ends. 
 Belidcs, this epithet agrees as well to witches, as to them ; and 
 therefore, certainly, our author could not defign this in their cha- 
 ratteriftick. We fhould read ; 
 
 Drug- working forcerers, that change the mind', 
 And we know by the hiftory of ancient and modern fuperftition, 
 that thefe kind of jugglers always pretended to work changes of 
 the mind by thefe applications. 
 < Drug-
 
 2i8 "The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Drug-working forcerers, that change the mind ; 
 
 Soul-killing witches, that deform the body ; 
 
 Difguifed cheaters, prating mountebanks, 
 
 And many fuch like libertines of fin : 
 
 If it prove fo, I will be gone the fooner. 
 
 I'll to the Centaur^ to go feek this flave ; 
 
 I greatly fear, my mony is not fafe. {Exit. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 'The Houfe of Antipholis of Ephefus. 
 
 Enter Adriana and Luciana. 
 
 AD RI A N A. 
 
 NE I T H E R my husband, nor the flave returned, 
 That in fuch hafte I fent to feek his matter! 
 Sure, Luciana^ it is two o* clock. 
 
 Luc. Perhaps, fome merchant hath invited him, 
 And from the mart he's fomewhere gone to dinner : 
 Good fifter, let us dine, and never fret. 
 A man is matter of his liberty : 
 Time is their matter ; and when they fee time, 
 They'll go or come ; if fo, be patient, fifter. 
 
 Adr. Why fhould their liberty than ours be more? 
 
 IMC. Becaufe their bufmefs ftill lyes out a-door. 
 
 Adr. Look, when I ferve him fo, he takes it ill. 
 
 IMC. Oh, know, he is the bridle of your will. 
 
 Adr. There's none, but afles, will be bridled fo. 
 
 Luc. Why, head-ftrong liberty is lafht with wo. 
 There's nothing fituate under heaven's eye, 
 But hath its bound in earth, in fea, in sky : 
 The beads, the fifties, and the winged fowls, 
 Are their males* fubje&s, and at their controuls : 
 
 Man,
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 
 
 Man, more divine, the mafter of all thefe, 
 Lord of the wide world, and wide wat'ry feas, 
 Indu'd with intellectual fenfe and foul, 
 Of more preheminence than fifh and fowl, 
 Are matters to their females, and their lords: 
 Then let your will attend on their accords. 
 
 Adr. This fervitude makes you to keep unwed. 
 
 Luc. Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. 
 
 Adr. But were you wedded, you would bear fome 
 fway. 
 
 Luc. Ere I learn love, I'll pra&ife to obey. 
 
 Adr. How if your husband ftart fome other where? 
 
 Luc. 'Till he come home again, I would forbear. 
 
 Adr. Patience unmov'd, no marvel tho' mepaufej 
 They can be meek, that have no other caufe: 
 A wretched foul, bruis'd with adverfity, 
 We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry ; 
 But were we burden'd with like weight of pain. 
 As much, or more, we mould ourfelves complain. 
 So thou, that haft no unkind mate to grieve thee, 
 With urging helplefs patience would'ft relieve me : 
 But if thou live to fee like right bereft, 
 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, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Ephefus. 
 
 Adr. Say, is your tardy mafter now at hand ? 
 
 R. Dro. Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that 
 my two ears can witnefs. 
 
 Adr. Say, did'ft thou fpeak with him? know'ft 
 thou his mind ? 
 
 E. Dro. Ay, ay, he told me his mind upon mine ear. 
 Befhrew his hand, I fcarce could under-ftand it. 
 
 Luc:
 
 The Comedy of E R R o RS. 
 
 Luc. Spake he fo doubtfully, thou could'ft not feel 
 his meaning ? 
 
 E. Dro. Nay, he ftruck fo plainly, I could too well 
 feel his blows ; and withal fo doubtfully, that I could 
 fcarce underftand them. 
 
 Adr. But fay, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? 
 It feems, he hath great care to pleafe his wife. 
 
 E. Dro. Why, miftrefs, fure, my matter is horn-mad. 
 
 Adr. Horn-mad, thou villain? 
 
 E. Dro. I mean not, cuckold- mad ; but, fure, he's 
 
 ftark mad : 
 
 When I defir'd him to come home to dinner, 
 He ask'd me for a thoufand marks in gold : 
 'Tis dinner-time, quoth I; my gold, quoth he: 
 Your meat doth burn, quoth I , my gold, quoth he: 
 "Will you come home, quoth I ? my gold, quoth he: 
 Where is the thoufand marks I gave thee, villain ? 
 The pig, quoth I, is burn'd ; my gold, quoth he. 
 My miftfels, Sir, quoth I ; hang up thy miftrefs! 
 I know not thy miftrefs j out on thy miftrefs ! 
 
 JLuc. Quoth who ? 
 
 E. Dro. Quoth my mafter : 
 I know, quoth he, no houfe, no wife, no miftrefs j 
 So that my errand, due unto my tongue, 
 I thank him, I bare home upon my moulders : 
 For, in conclufion, he did beat me there. 
 
 Adr. Go back again, thou (lave, and fetch him 
 home. 
 
 E. Dro. Go back again, and be new beaten home? 
 For God's fake, fend fome other meflenger. 
 
 Adr. Back, (lave, or I will break thy pate acrofs. 
 
 E. Dro. And he will blels that crofs with other 
 
 beating : 
 Between you I mail have a holy head. 
 
 Adr. Hence, prating peafant, fetch thy mafter home. 
 
 E. Dro. Am I fo round with you as you with me, 
 That like a foot-ball you do fpurn me thus? 
 
 You
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 221 
 
 You fpurn me hence, and he will fpurn me hither: 
 If I laft in this fervice, you muft cafe me in leather. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Luc. Fie, how impatience lowreth in your face ! 
 
 Adr. His company mufl do his minions grace, 
 Whilft I at home ftarve for a merry look : 
 Hath homely age th' alluring beauty took 
 From my poor cheek ? then, he hath wafted it. 
 Are my difcourfesdull ? barren my wit ? 
 If voluble and fharp difcourfe be marr'd, 
 Unkindnefs blunts it, more than marble hard. 
 Do their gay veftments his affections bait ? 
 That's not my fault : he's mafter of my (late. 
 What ruins are in me, that can be found 
 By him not ruin'd ? then, is he the ground 
 Of my defeatures. My decayed fair 
 A funny look of his would foon repair. 
 But, too unruly dear, he breaks the pale, 
 And feeds from home ; poor I am but his dale. 
 
 JLuc. Self harming jealoufie! fie, beat it hence. 
 
 Adr. Unfeeling fools can with fuch wrongs difpenfe: 
 I know, his eye doth homage other-where ; 
 Or elfe what lets it, but he would be here ? 
 Sifter, you know he promis'd me a chain ; 
 Would that alone, alone, he would detain, 
 So he would keep fair quarter with his bed. 
 1 I fee, the jewel, beft enameled, 
 
 Will 
 
 I I fee, theje-ivel, left enameled, 
 
 Will lofe his beauty ; YET the gold bides Jlill, 
 That others touch, AND often touching will : 
 WHERE gold and no man, that hath a name, 
 ~&v fal/hood and corruption doth it Jhame ] In this miferable 
 condition is this paffage given us. It fhould be read thus, 
 1 fee, the jewel, heft enameled, 
 Will loft his beauty j and the gold bides Jiill t 
 
 That
 
 Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Will lofe his beauty ; and the gold bides ftill, 
 That others touch ; yet often touching will 
 Wear gold : and fo no man, that hath a name, 
 But falfhood, and corruption, doth it mame. 
 Since that my beauty cannot pleafe his eye, 
 I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. 
 Luc. How many fond fools ferve mad jealoufie ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Changes fo the Street. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Syracufe. 
 Jlnl. HP H E gold I gave to Dromio is laid up 
 
 JL Safe at the Centaur ; and the heedful flave 
 Is wander'd forth in care to feek me out. 
 By computation, and mine hoft's report, 
 I could not fpeak with Dromio^ fince at firft 
 I fent him from the mart. See, here he comes. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 How now, Sir ? is your merry humour alter'd ? . * 
 As you love ftrokes, fo jeft with me again. 
 You know no Centaur ? you receiv'd no gold ? 
 Your miftrefs fent to have me home to dinner ? 
 My houfe was at the Phcenix ? waft thou mad, 
 That thus fo madly thou didft anfwer me ? 
 
 S. Dro. What anfwer, Sir ? when fpake I fuch a 
 word ? 
 
 That others touch ; yet often touching will 
 Wear gold : and fo no man, that hath a name, 
 But faljhood, and corruption, doth it jhame. 
 
 The fenfe is this, ' Gold, indeed, will long bear the handling ; 
 " however, often touching, will wear even gold ; juft fo the great- 
 " eft chara&er, tho' as pure a? gold itfelf, may, in time, be in- 
 " jured, by the repeated attacks of falfhood and corruption." 
 
 Ant.
 
 The Comedy of E RRORS, 
 
 Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour fmce. 
 S. Dro. I did not fee you fmce you fent me hence 
 Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. 
 
 Ant. Villain, thou didft deny the gold's receipt ; 
 And told'ft me of a miftefs, and a dinner} 
 For which, I hope, thou felt'ft I was difpleas'd. 
 
 S. Dro. I'm glad to fee you in this merry vein : 
 What means this jeft, I pray you, mafter, tell me ? 
 
 Ant. Yea, doft thou jeer and flout me in the teeth ? 
 Think'ft thou, I jeft ? hold, take thou that, and that. 
 
 [Beats Dro. 
 
 S. Dro. Hold, Sir, for God's fake, now your jeft 
 
 is earned ; 
 Upon what bargain do you give it me ? 
 
 Ant. Becaufe that I familiarly fometimes 
 Do ufe you for my fool, and chat with you, 
 Your fawcinefs will jeft upon my love, 
 And make a common of my ferious hours. 
 When the fun mines, let foolifh gnats make fport ; 
 But creep in crannies, when he hides his beams: 
 If you will jeft with me, know my afpedr., 
 And fafhion your demeanour to my looks ; 
 Or I will * beat this method in your fconce. 
 
 S. Dro. Sconce, call you it ? fo you would leave 
 battering, I had rather have it a head ; an you ufe 
 thefe blows long, I muft get a fconce for my head, 
 and infconce it too, or elfe I mail feek my wit in my 
 moulders : but, I pray, Sir, why am I beaten ? 
 
 Ant. Doft thou not know ? 
 
 S. Dro. Nothing, Sir, but that I am beaten. 
 
 Ant. Shall I tell you why ? 
 
 S. Dro. Ay* Sir, and wherefore ; for, they fay, 
 every why hath a wherefore. 
 
 Ant. Why, firft, for flouting me ; and then where- 
 fore, for urging it the fecond time to me. 
 
 beat this method ] Method, for inftru&ion. 
 
 S.
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 
 
 S. Dro. Was there ever any man thus beaten our of 
 
 feafon, 
 When, in the why, and wherefore, is neither rhime 
 
 nor reafon ? 
 Well, Sir, I thank you. 
 
 Ant. Thank me, Sir, for what? 
 
 S. Dro, Marry, Sir, for this fomething that you 
 gave me for nothing. 
 
 Ant. I'll make you amends next, to give you no- 
 thing for fomething. Bat fay, Sir, is it dinner-time ? 
 
 S.Dro. No, Sir, I think, the meat wants that I have. 
 
 Ant. In good time, Sir, what's that? 
 
 S. Dro. Bailing. 
 
 Ant. Well, Sir, then 'twill be dry. 
 
 S. Dro. If it be, Sir, I pray you eat none of it. 
 
 Ant. Your reafon ? 
 
 S. Dro. Left it make you cholerick, and purchafe 
 me another dry-bafting. 
 
 Ant. Well, Sir, learn to jeft in good time 3 there's 
 a time for all things. 
 
 S. Dro. I durft have deny'd that, before you were 
 fo cholerick. 
 
 Ant. By what rule, Sir ? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, Sir, by a ruk as plain as the plain 
 bald pate of father Time himfelf. 
 
 Ant. Let's hear it. 
 
 S. Dro. There's no time for a man to recover his 
 hair, that grows bald by nature. 
 
 Ant. May he not do it by fine and recovery ? 
 
 S. Pro. Yes, to pay a fine for a peruke, and recover 
 the loft hair of another man. 
 
 Ant. Why is Time fuch a niggard of hair, being, as 
 it is, fo plentiful an excrement ? 
 
 S. Dro. Becaufe it is a bleffing that he beftows on 
 beafts ; and what he hath fcanted men in hair, he hath 
 given (a) them in wit. 
 
 [ () men, Mr. Theobald Vulg. them.'] 
 
 Ant.
 
 The Comedy of E R RO R s. 
 
 Ant. Why, but there's many a man hath more hair 
 than wit. 
 
 S. Dro. Not a man of thofe, but he hath the Wit to 
 lofe his hain 
 
 jtnt. Why, thou didft conclude hairy men plain deal- 
 ers without wit. 
 
 S. Dro. The plainer dealer, the fooner loft ; yet he 
 lofeth it in a kind of jollity. 
 
 Ant. For what reafon ? 
 
 S. Dro. For two, and found ones too. 
 
 Ant. Nay, not found, I pray you. 
 
 S. Dro. Sure ones then. 
 
 Ant. Nay* not fure in a thing falfing. 
 
 S. Dro. Certain ones then. 
 
 Ant. Name them. 
 
 S. Dro. The one to fave the money that he fpends 
 in trying ; the other, that at dinner they mould not 
 drop in his porridge. 
 
 Ant. You would all this time have pirov'd, there is 
 no time for all things. 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, and did, Sir 5 namely* no time to 
 recover hair loft by nature. 
 
 Ant. But your reafon was not fubftantial, why there 
 is no time to recover. 
 
 S, Dro. Thus I mend ft : Time hirhfelf is bald, and 
 therefore to the world's end will have bald followers. 
 
 dnt. I knew, 'twould be a bald conclufion : but s 
 foft ! who wafts us yonder ? 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Adriana, and Luciana 
 
 Adri. Ay, ay, jfntipbotis, look ftrange and frown, 
 Some other miftrefs hath thy fweet afpeds : 
 I am not Adriana^ nor thy wife. 
 The time was once, when thou, unurg'd, wouldft vow, 
 * That never words were mufick to thine ear, 
 
 VOL, III. Q ' That
 
 226 Ite Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 That never obje<5l pleafing in thine eye, 
 
 That never touch well welcome to thy hand, 
 
 That never meat fweet- favoured in thy tafte, 
 
 * Unlels 1 fpake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carvM. 
 
 How comes it now, my husband, oh, how comes it, 
 
 That thou art thus eftranged from thy felf ? 
 
 Thy felf I call it, being ftrange to me : 
 
 That, undividable, incorporate, 
 
 Am better than thy dear felf's better part. 
 
 Ah, do not tear away thy felf from me : 
 
 For know, my love, as eafie may'ft thou fall 
 
 A drop of water in the breaking gulph, 
 
 And take unmingled thence that drop again, 
 
 Without addition or diminiming, 
 
 As take from me thy felf ; and not me too. 
 
 How dearly would it touch thee to the quick, 
 
 Should'ft thou but hear, I were licentious ? 
 
 And that this body, confecrate to thee, 
 
 By ruffian luft mould be contaminate ? 
 
 Would'ft thou not fpit at me, and fpurn at me, 
 
 And hurl the name of husband in my face, 
 
 And tear the flain'd skin of my harlot-brow, 
 
 And from my falfe hand cut the wedding-ring, 
 
 And break it with a deep-divorcing vow ? 
 
 I know thou can'ft ; and therefore, fee, thou do it. 
 
 3 I am pofiefs'd vith an adulterate blot ; 
 
 My blood is mingled with the Grime of luft : 
 
 For if we two be one, and thou play falle, 
 
 I do digeft the poifon of thy flefh, 
 
 Being (trumpeted by thy contagion. 
 
 3 lam poflefidtKitb an adulterate blot ; 
 
 My blood it mingled ivitb the CR i M E of luft :] Both the inte- 
 grity of the mecaphor, and the word blot t in the preceding line, 
 Ihevv that we fliould read, 
 
 iuitb the GRIME of lujl : i.e. the jiain, fmut. So a- 
 
 gain in this play, A man may go overJhQtt in ihe CRIME of it, 
 
 Keep
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 227 
 
 Keep then fair league, and truce with thy true bed ; 
 I live diftain'd, chou undiflionoured. 
 
 Ant. Plead you to me, fair dame ? I know you not : 
 In Epbefus I am but two hours old, 
 As ftrange unto your town as to your talk. 
 Who, every word by all my wit being fcann'd, 
 Wants wit in all one word to underftand. 
 
 Luc. Fie, brother! how the world is chang'd with 
 
 you; 
 
 When were you wont to ufe my fitter thus? 
 She fent for you by Dromio home to dinner. 
 
 Ant. By Dromio ? 
 
 S. Dro. By me ? 
 
 Adr. By thee ; and thus thou didft return from him, 
 That he did buffet thee ; and in his blows 
 Deny'd my houfe for his, me for his wife. 
 
 Ant, Did you converfe, Sir, with this gentle* 
 
 woman ? 
 What is the courfe and drift of your compact ? 
 
 S. Dro. I, Sir, I never faw her 'till this time. 
 
 Ant. Villain, thou Jieft ; for even her very words 
 Didft thou deliver to me on the mart. 
 
 S. Dro. I never fpoke with her in all my life. 
 
 Ant. How can fhe thus then call us by our names, 
 Unlefs it be by infpiration ? 
 
 Adr. How ill agrees it with your gravity, 
 To counterfeit thus grofly with your flave, 
 Abetting him to thwart me in my mood? 
 Be it my wrong, 4 you are from me exempt, 
 But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. 
 Come, I will fallen on this fleeve of thine; 
 " Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine : 
 " Whofe weaknefs, marry'd to thy ftronger ftate, 
 " Makes me with thy ftrength to communicate 5 
 *' If aught pofiefs thee from me, it is drofs, 
 
 4 you art from me exempt,] Exempt, for eftranged. 
 
 Q_2 Ufurp-
 
 228 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 " Ufurping ivy, brier, or idle mofs ; 
 
 a Who, all for want of pruning, with intrufion 
 
 " Infect thy fap, and live on thy confufion. 
 
 Ant. To me fhe fpeaks ; Ihe moves me for her 
 
 theam ; 
 
 What, was 1 marry'd to her in my dream ? 
 Or deep I now, and think I hear all this ? 
 What error drives our eyes and ears amifs ? 
 Until I know this fure uncertainty, 
 PJ1 entertain the favoured fallacy. 
 
 IMC. Dromio, go bid the fervants fpread for dinner. 
 
 S. Dro. Oh, for my beads! I crofs me for a finner. 
 This is the Fairy land : oh, fpight of fpights ! 
 * We talk with goblins, owls, and elvifli fprights; 
 If we obey them not, this will enfue, 
 They'll fuck our breath, and pinch us black and blue. 
 
 Luc. Why prat'ft thou to thy felf, and anfwer'ft 
 
 not ? 
 Dromio, thou drone, thou fnail, thou flug, thou fot ! 
 
 5 We talk 'with goblins, owls, and elvijh fprights j] Here Mr. 
 Theobald calls out in the name ofNonfenfe, the tirft time he hadfor- 
 mally invoked her, to tell him how Ov: Is could fuck their breath, and 
 pinch them black and blue. He, therefore, alters O<vuls to Ouphs, 
 and dares fay, that his readers will acquiefce in the juflnefs of his 
 emendation. But, for all this, we mull not part with the old read- 
 ing. He did not know it to be an old popular fuperftition, that 
 the fcretch-owl fucked out the breath and blood of infants in the 
 cradle. On this account, the Italians called Witches, who were 
 fuppofed to be in like manner mifchievoufly bent againft children, 
 Strega from Strix, the Scretch-o f wl. 1 his fuperftition they had derived 
 from their Pagan anceftor.-, as appears from this pafiage of OviJ, 
 Sunt ai'idte valucres ; non qu<e Phineia men/is 
 
 Guttura fraudabant : fed genus indetrahunt. 
 Grande caput : jiantes oculi : rojlra apt a rapine : 
 
 Canitit! pennh, unguibus hamut ineft. 
 Nofie volant, PUEROSQJ;E PETUNT nut rids egentet ; 
 
 El -vitiant CUN i s corpora raptafuis. 
 Carper e dicuntur laEiantia vifcera rojiris ', 
 Et plenum poto fanguine guttur kabent. 
 Eft illis ftrigibus nomen ; . Lib. 6. Feft. 
 
 S. Dro.
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 229 
 
 S. Dro. I am transformed, mafter, am not I? 
 
 Ant, I think, thou art in mind, and fo am I. 
 
 S. Dro. Nay, mafter, both in mind and in my 
 mape. 
 
 Ant. Thou haft thine own form. 
 
 S. Dro. No ; I am an ape. 
 
 Luc. If thou art chang'd to aught, 'tis to an afs. 
 
 S. Dro. 'Tis true j me rides me, and I long for 
 
 grafs. 
 
 'Tis fo, I am an afs ; elfe it could never be, 
 But I mould know her, as well as me knows me. 
 
 Adr. Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, 
 To put the finger in the Eye and weep, 
 Whilft man and mafter laugh my woes to fcorn. 
 Come, Sir, to dinner; Dromio, keep the gatej 
 Husband, I'll dine above with you to day, 
 And fhrive you of a thoufand idle pranks ; 
 Sirrah, if any ask you for your mafter, 
 Say, he dines forth, and let no creature enter : 
 Come, fifter; Dromio, play the porter well. 
 
 Ant. Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell ? 
 Sleeping or waking, mad or well advis*d ? 
 Known unto thefe, and to myfclf difguis'd ? 
 I'll fay as they fay, and per fever fo ; 
 in this mift at all adventures go. 
 
 S. Dro. Mafter, mall 1 be porter at the gate ? ^ 
 
 Adr. Ay, let none enter, left I break your pate. > 
 
 Luc. Come, come, Antipbotis, we dine too late. 3 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 The Street before Antipholis'5 Houfe. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, Dromio of Ephefus, 
 Angelo, and Balthazar. 
 
 E. ANTIPHOLIS. 
 
 GO O.D Signior Angelo^ you muft excufe us ; 
 My wife is (hrewilh, when I keep not hours ; 
 Say, that I linger'd with you at your mop 
 To fee the making of her carkanet ; 
 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 charg'd him with a thoufand marks in gold ; 
 And that I did deny my wife and houfe : 
 Thou drunkard, thou, what didft thou mean by this ? 
 E. Dro. Say, what you will, Sir j but I know what 
 
 I know ; 
 That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to 
 
 mow ; 
 If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave 
 
 were ink, 
 
 Your own hand-writing would tell you what I think, 
 E Ant. I think, thou art an afs. 
 E. Dro. Marry, fo it doth appear 
 By the wrongs I fuffer, and the blows I bear -, 
 I mould kick, being kickt ; and, being at that pafs, 
 You would keep from my heels, and beware of an afs. 
 E. Ant. Y'are fad, Signior Balthazar. Pray God, 
 
 our cheer 
 May anfwer my good will, and your good welcome 
 
 here. 
 
 Eal. I hold your dainties cheap, Sir, and your wel- 
 come dear. 
 
 E. Ant.
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 E. Ant. Ah, Signior Balthazar, either at flefli or fifh, 
 
 A table-full of welcome makes fcarce one dainty difh. 
 
 aL Good meat, Sir, is common ; that every churl 
 
 affords. 
 E. Ant. And welcome more common ; for that's 
 
 nothing but words. 
 JBal. Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a 
 
 merry feaft. 
 E. Ant. Ay, to a niggardly hoft, and more fparing 
 
 gueft: 
 
 But tho* my cates be mean, take them in good part ; 
 Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. 
 But, foft ; my door is lockt ; go bid them let us in. 
 E. Dro. Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicely, Gillian, Ginn ! 
 S. Dro. [within] Mome, malc-horie, capon, cox- 
 
 comb, idiot, patch ! 
 
 Either get thee from the door, or fit down at the hatch : 
 Doft thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'lt for 
 
 fuch ftore, 
 When one is one too many ? go, get thee from the 
 
 door. 
 E. Dro. What patch is made our porter ? my mafter 
 
 flays in the flreet. 
 S. Dro. Let him walk from whence he came, left he 
 
 catch cold on's feet. 
 E. Ant. Who talks within there ? hoa, open the 
 
 door. 
 S. Dro. Right, Sir, I'll tell you when, an you'll tell 
 
 me wherefore. 
 E. Ant. Wherefore ? for my dinner : I have not 
 
 din'd today. 
 S. Dro. Nor to day here you muft not : come again, 
 
 when you may. 
 E. Ant. What art thou, that keep'ft me out from 
 
 the houfe I owe ? 
 
 S. Dro. The porter for this time, Sir, and my name 
 is Dromio. 
 
 E. Dro.
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 
 
 E. Dro. O villian, thou haft ftoll'n both mine office 
 
 and my name ; 
 
 The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. 
 If thou had'ft been Dromio to day in my place, 
 Thou would'ft have chang'd thy face for a name, or 
 
 thy name for an afs. 
 Luce, [within] What a coile is there, Dromio ? who 
 
 are thofe at the gate ? 
 E. Dro. Let my mafter in, Luce. 
 Luce. Faith, no ; he comes too late ; 
 And fo tell your mafter. 
 
 E. Dro. O lord, I muft laugh ; 
 Have at you with a Proverb. Shall I fet in my ftaff? 
 Luce. Have at you with another ; that's when, can 
 
 you tell ? 
 S.Dro. If thy name be cal I'd Luce, Luce, thou haft 
 
 anfwer'd him well. 
 E. Ant. Do you hear, you minion, you'll Jet us in, 
 
 I trow ? 
 
 Luce. I thought to have askt you. 
 S. Dro. And you faid, no. 
 E. Dro. So, come, help, well ftruck j there was 
 
 blow for blow. 
 
 E. Ant. Thou baggage, let me in. 
 Luce. Can you tell for whofe fake ? 
 E. Dro. Mafter, knock the door hard. 
 Luce. Let him knock, 'till it ake. 
 E. Ant. You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the 
 
 door down. 
 Luce. What needs all that, and a pair of flocks in 
 
 the town ? 
 Adr. \witbin~] Who is that at the door, that keeps 
 
 all this noife ? 
 S. Dro. By my troth, your town is troubled witli 
 
 unruly boys. 
 E, Ant. Are you there, wife ? you might have come 
 
 before.
 
 the Comedy of ERRORS. 233 
 
 Adr. Your wife, Sir knave ! go, get you from the 
 
 door. 
 E. Dro. If you went in pain, matter, this knave 
 
 would go fore. 
 Ang. Here is neither cheer, Sir, nor welcome \ we 
 
 would fain have either. 
 Bal. In debating which was beft, * we mail ;/e 
 
 part with neither. 
 E. Dro. They ftand at the door, mafter ; bid them 
 
 welcome hither. 
 
 E. Ant. There's fomething in the wind, that we can- 
 not get in. 
 . Dro. You would fay fo, mafter, if your garments 
 
 were thin. 
 Your cake here is warm within : you ftand here in the 
 
 cold : 
 It would make a man mad as a buck to be fo bought 
 
 and fold. 
 E. Ant. Go fetch me fomething, I'll break ope the 
 
 gate. 
 S. Dro. Break any thing here, and I'll break your 
 
 knave's pate. 
 E. Dro. A man may break a word with you, Sir, 
 
 and words are but wind \ 
 Ay, and break it in your face, fo he break it not 
 
 behind. 
 S. Dro. It feems, thou wanteft breaking j out upon 
 
 thee, hind ! 
 E. Dro. Here's too much, out upon thee ! I pray 
 
 thee, let me in. 
 S. Dro. Ay, when fowls have no feathers, and fifh 
 
 have no fin. 
 
 E. Ant. Well, I'll break in ; go borrow me a crow. 
 E. Dro. A crow without feather, mafter, mean you 
 
 fo? 
 
 i nve foal/ part 'with neither. ~\ Common fenfe requires us to 
 
 read, vjejball HAVE fart 'with neither. 
 
 For
 
 234 *&* Comedy 0/* ERRORS. 
 
 For a fifli without a fin, there's a fowl without a fea- 
 ther : 
 
 If a crow help us in, firrah, we'll pluck a crow toge- 
 ther. 
 
 E. Ant. Go, get thee gone, fetch me an iron crow, 
 Bal. Have patience, Sir : oh, let it not be fo. 
 
 Herein you war againft your reputation, 
 
 And draw within the compafs of fufpeft 
 Th' unviolated honour of your wife. 
 
 Once, this ; your long experience of her wifdom, 
 
 Her fober virtue, years, and modefty, 
 
 PJead on her part fome caufe to you unknown ; 
 
 And doubt not, Sir, but fhe will well excufe, 
 
 Why at this time the doors are barr'd againft you. 
 
 Be rul'd by me, depart in patience, 
 
 And let us to the fyger all to dinner ; 
 
 And about evening come your felf alone, 
 
 To know the reafon of this ftrange reftraint. 
 
 If by ftrong hand you offer to break in, 
 
 Now in the ftirring paflage of the day, 
 
 A vulgar comment will be made of it ; 
 
 And that fuppofed by the common rout, 
 
 Againft your yet ungalled eftimation, 
 
 That may with foul intrufion enter in, 
 
 And dwell upon your grave when you are dead : 
 
 For flander lives upon fucceflion ; 
 
 For ever hous'd, where it once gets pofleflion. 
 
 E. Ant. You have prevail'd ; i will depart in quiet, 
 
 '- And, in defpight of mirth, mean to be merry. 
 
 I know a wench of excellent difcourfe, 
 
 Pretty and witty, wild, and, yet too, gentle ; 
 
 2 And, in dtfpight of mirth, ] Mr. Theobald does not know 
 
 what to make of this ; and, therefore, has put nurath inllead of 
 mirth into the text, in which he is followed by the Oxford Edi- 
 tor. But the old reading is right ; and the meaning is, I will be 
 merry, even out of fpite to mirth, which is, now, of all things, 
 the moft unpleafing to me. 
 
 There
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 235 
 
 There will we dine : this woman that I mean, 
 
 My wife (but, I proteft, without defert,) 
 
 Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal ; 
 
 To her will we to dinner. Get you home, 
 
 And fetch the chain ; by this, I know, 'tis made ; 
 
 Bring it, I pray you, to the Porcupine , 
 
 For there's the houfe : that chain will I beftow, 
 
 (Be it for nothing but to fpight my wife,) 
 
 Upon mine hoftefs there. Good Sir, make hafte : 
 
 Since my own doors refufe to entertain me, 
 
 I'll knock elfewhere, to fee if they'll difdain me. 
 
 Ang. I'll meet you at that place, fome hour, Sir, 
 hence. 
 
 E. Ant. Do fo ; thisjeft mail coftme fomeexpence. 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 The Houfe of Antipholis 0/'Ephefus. 
 
 Enter Luciana, with Antipholis of Syracufe. 
 
 Luc. AND may it be that you have quite forgot 
 
 Ji\ A husband's office ? fhall, Antipbolis, 
 Ev'n in the fpring of Jove, thy love fprings rot ? 
 Shall love, in J building, grow fo ruinate ? 
 If you did wed my fitter for her wealth, 
 
 Then for her wealth's fake ufe her with more kind- 
 
 nefs ; 
 Or if you like elfewhere, do it by Health ; 
 
 Muffle your falfe love with fome Ihew of blindnefs.i 
 Let not my fitter read it in your eye ; 
 
 Be not thy tongue thy own fhame's orator ; 
 Look fweet, fpeak fair; become difloyalty : 
 
 Apparel vice, like virtue's harbinger ; 
 
 3 buildings, ] Mr. Theobald has here removed a fuper- 
 
 fluous letter. 
 
 Bear
 
 2 36 The Cowedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Bear a fair prefence, tho f your heart be tainted : 
 
 Teach fin the carriage of a holy faint ; 
 Be fecret-falfe : what need me be acquainted ? 
 
 What fimple thief brags of his own attaint? 
 5 Tis double wrong, to truant with your bed, 
 
 And let her read it in thy looks at board : 
 Shame hath a baflard fame, well managed ; 
 
 111 deeds are doubled with an evil word : 
 Alas, poor women ! make us (a} but believe, 
 
 Being compact of credit, that you love us ; 
 Tho* others have the arm, (hew us the fleeve : 
 
 We in your motion turn, and you may move us. 
 Then, gentle brother, get you in again 5 
 
 Comfort my fitter, chear her, call her wife ; 
 'Tis holy fport to be a little vain, 
 
 When the fweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife. 
 
 S. Ant. Sweet miftrefs, (what your name is elfe, I 
 know not j 
 
 Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine :) 
 Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you mow not 
 
 Than our earth's wonder, more than earth divine. 
 Teach me, dear creature, how to think and fpeak j 
 
 Lay open to my earthy grofs conceit, 
 Smother'd in errors, feeble, mallow, weak, 
 
 The foulded meaning of your words' deceit ; 
 Againft my foul'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 pow'r I'll yield. 
 But if that I am I, then, well I know, 
 
 Your weeping fifter is no wife of mine ; 
 Nor to her bed no homage do I owe ; 
 
 Far more, far more, to you do I decline. 
 
 ( a ] fat. Mr. Theobald Vulg. /.} 
 
 Oh,
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS." 237 
 
 Oh, train me not, fweet mermaid, with thy note, 
 
 To drown me in thy lifter's flood of tears ; 
 Sing, Siren, for thyfelf, and I will dote ; 
 
 Spread o'er the filver waves thy golden hairs, 
 And as a bed I'll take thee, and there lye : 
 
 And 4 in that glorious fuppofition think, 
 He gains by death, that hath fuch means to die ; 
 
 Let love, being light, be drowned if me fink. 
 
 Luc. What, are you mad, that you do reafon fo ? 
 
 S. Ant. Not mad, but mated ; how, I do not know. 
 
 Luc. It is a fault that fpringeth from your eye. 
 
 S. Ant. For gazing on your beams, fair fun, be- 
 ing by. 
 
 Luc. Gaze where you mould, and that will clear 
 your fight. 
 
 S. Ant. As good to wink, fweet love, as look on 
 night. 
 
 Luc. Why call you me, love ? call my fiftcr fo. 
 
 S. Ant. Thy fitter's fitter. 
 
 Luc. That's my fitter. 
 
 S. Ant. No , 
 
 It is thyfelf, mine own felf 's better part : 
 Mine eye's clear eye, my dear heart's dearer heart, 
 My food, my fortune, and my fweet hope's aim, 
 My fole earth's heaven, and my heaven's claim. 
 
 Luc. All this my fitter is, or elfe mould be. 
 
 S. Ant. Call thyfelf fitter, fweet; for I mean thee : 
 Thee will I love, and with thee lead my life ; 
 Thou haft no husband yet, nor I no wife. 
 Give me thy hand. 
 
 Luc. Oh, fofr, Sir, hold you ftill ; 
 I'll fetch my fifter, to get her good will. 
 
 [Exit Luciana. 
 
 4 in that glorious fuppofition ~] Suppo/ifion, for the thing 
 Jain open. 
 
 SCENE
 
 3 ,g The Comedy of ERROR s. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 S Ant. Why, how now, Dromio^ where run'ft thou 
 fo faft ? 
 
 S. Dro. Do you know me, Sir ? am I Dromio? am 
 I your man P am I myfelf? 
 
 S. Ant Thou art Dromio^ thou art my man, thou 
 art thyfelf. 
 
 S Dro. lam anafs, I am a woman's man, and be- 
 fides myfelf. 
 
 S. Ant. What woman's man ? and how befides thy- 
 felf? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, Sir, befides myfelf, I am due to a 
 woman ; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one 
 that wi!l have me. 
 
 S. Ant. What claim lays fhe to thee ? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fuch a claim as you would lay 
 to your horfe ; and me would have me as a beaft : not 
 that, I being a beaft, fhe would have me ; but that 
 fhc, being a very beaftly creature, Jays claim to me. 
 
 S Ant. What is fhe? 
 
 S. Dro. A very reverent body ; ay, fuch a one as a 
 man may not fpeak of, without he fay, Sir reverence : 
 I have but lean luck in the match ; and yet is fhe a 
 Wond'rous fat marriage. 
 
 S. Ant. How dofl thou mean, a fat marriage ? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, Sir, fhe's the kitchen-wench, and 
 all greafe ; and I know not what ufe to put her to, but 
 to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own 
 light 1 warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, 
 will burn 4 a Lapland winter : if fhe lives 'till doomf- 
 day, (he'll burn a week longer than the whole world. 
 
 S. Ant. What complexion is fhe of ? 
 
 S. Dro. Swart, like my fhoe, but her face nothing 
 
 5 a Poland winter:] Folio reads a Lapland winter. Right. 
 
 like
 
 fhc Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 like fo clean kept ; for why ? fhe fweats, a man may 
 go over fhoes in the grime of it. 
 
 S. Ant. That's a fault, that water will mend. 
 
 S. Dro. No, Sir, 'tis in grain 5 Noah's flood could 
 not do it. 
 
 S. Ant. What's her name ? 
 
 5". Dro. Nell, Sir ; but (a) her name and three 
 quarters (that is, an ell and three quarters) will not 
 meafure her from hip to hip. 
 
 S. Ant. Then fhe bears fome breadth ? 
 
 S. Dro. No longer from head to foot, than from 
 hip to hip : fhe is fpherical, like a globe : I could 
 find out countries in her. 
 
 S. Ant. In what part of her body (lands Ireland? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, Sir, in her buttocks ; I found it 
 out by the bogs. 
 
 S. Ant. Where Scotland? 
 
 S. Dro. I found it out by the barrenneis, hard in the 
 palm of her hand. 
 
 S. Ant. Where Frame ? 
 
 S. Dro. In her forehead ; arm'd and reverted, ma- 
 king war 6 againfl her heir. 
 
 S.Ant. Where England? 
 
 S, Dro. I look'd tor the chalky cliffs, but I could 
 find no whitenefs in them ; but I guefs, it flood in her 
 chin, by the fait rheum that ran between France and it. 
 
 S. Ant. Where Spain ? 
 
 S. Dro. Faith, I faw it not, but I felt it hot in her 
 breath. 
 
 S. Ant. Where America, the Indies ? 
 
 S. Dro. Oh, Sir, upon her nofe, all o'er embellim'd 
 with rubies, carbuncles, faphires ; declining their rich 
 afpect to the hot breath of Spam, who fent whole arma- 
 does of carracts to be ballad at her nofc. 
 
 6 againft her heir. ] Heft. IV. of Trance. At that time the 
 
 League was in arms againlt him. 
 
 [ () her name and, Dr. Thirfby Vu!g. her name is ] 
 
 S. Ant.
 
 The Comedy 0/ERRORs. 
 
 S. Ant. Where flood Belgia, the Netherlands? 
 
 S. Dro. Oh, Sir, I did not look fo low. 7 To con- 
 clude, 'this drudge of the devil, this diviner, laid 
 claim to me, call'd me Dromio, fwore I was aflur'd 
 to her, told me what privy marks I had about me, as 
 the marks of my moulder, the mole in my neck, the 
 great wart on my left arm, that I, amaz'd, ran from 
 her as a witch. * And, I think, if my bread had not 
 been made of faith, and my heart of fteel, fhe had 
 transform'd me to a curtal-dog, and made me turn 
 i'th' wheel. 
 
 S. Ant. Go, hie thee prefently ; poft to the road ; 
 And if the wind blow any way from fhore, 
 I will not harbour in this town to night* 
 If any hark put forth, come to the mart ; 
 Where I will walk, 'till you return to me : 
 If every one know us, and we know none, 
 *1 is time, I think, to trudge, pack and be gone. 
 
 S. Dro. As from a bear a man would run for life, 
 So fly 1 from her that would be my wife. [xf/ 
 
 SCENE IV, 
 
 S. Ant. There's none but witches do inhabit here 5 
 And therefore 'tis high time that I were hence: 
 She, that doth call me husband, even my foul 
 Doth for a wife abhor. But her fair fitter, 
 PofTeft with fuch a gentle fovereign grace, 
 
 7 To conclude, this drudge, or diviner, laid claim to ?,] A lit- 
 tle lower, he calls her ivitch. A word is certainly dropt out of 
 the text. We fnould read, 
 
 this drudge OF THE DEVIL, THIS diviner, 
 Drudge of the Devil, is the right pariphrafis for a witch. 
 
 8 And, I think, if my breajl had not been made of faith, &V] 
 Alluding to the fuperfti'ion of the common people, that nothing 
 could refut a witch's po-.ver, of transforming men into animals, 
 but a great mare of faith : however the Oxford Editor thinks 
 a breajl made of flint, better fecurity, and has therefore put it in. 
 
 Of
 
 fkc Comedy of ERRORS. 241 
 
 Of fuch enchanting prefence and difcourfe, 
 Hath almoft made me traitor to myfelf: 
 But left myfelf be guilty of felf- wrong, 
 I'll (lop mine ears againft the mermaid's fong. 
 
 Enter Angelo, with a chain. 
 
 Ant. Mafter AntifboFis, 
 
 S. Ant. Ay, that's my name. 
 
 Ang. I know it well, Sir ; lo, here is the chain 5 
 I thought to have ta'en you at the Porcupine ; 
 The chain, unfinilh'd, made me Hay thus long. 
 
 S. Ant. What is your will, that I mall do with this ? 
 
 Ang. What pleafe yourfelf, Sir ; I have made it 
 for you. 
 
 B. Ant. Made it for me, Sir! I befpoke it not. 
 
 Ang. Not once, nor twice, but twenty times, you 
 
 have: 
 
 Go home with it, and pleafe your wife withal j 
 And foon at fupper-time I'll vifit you, 
 And then receive my mony for the chain. 
 
 S. Ant. I pray you, Sir, receive the mony now ; 
 For fear you ne'er fee chain, nor mony, more. 
 
 Ang. You are a merry man, Sir j fare you well, 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 S. Ant. What I mould think of this, I cannot tell: 
 But this I think, there's no man is fo vain, 
 TJvat would refufe fo fair an offer'd chain. 
 1 Ice, a man here needs not live by fhifts, 
 When in the ftreets, he meets fuch golden gifts : 
 I'll ro the mart, and there for Dromio (lay j 
 Jf any Ihipputgut, then lira ight away. [Exit. 
 
 VOL.. III. R ACT
 
 242 Ike Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 A C T IV. SCENE I. 
 
 The STREET. 
 Enter a Merchant, Angelo, and an Officer, 
 
 MERCHANT. 
 
 YO U know, fince Pentecoft the fum is due ; 
 And fince I have not much importun'd you \ 
 Nor now I had not, but that I am bound 
 To Perfia^ and want gilders for my voyage : 
 Therefore make prefent fatisfaction ; 
 Or I'll attach you by this officer. 
 
 Ang. Ev'n jufl the fum, that I do owe to you, 
 Is growing to me by Antipho&s ; 
 And, in the inftant that I met with you, 
 He had of me a chain : at five o* clock, 
 1 mail receive the mony for the fame: 
 Pleafe you but walk with me down to his houfe, 
 I will difcharge my bord, and thank you too. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, and Dromio 0/"Ephefus, 
 as from the Courtezan's. 
 
 Offi. That labour you may fave: fee, where he 
 
 comes. 
 
 E. Ant. While I go to the goldfmith's houfe, gothou 
 And buy a rope's end j that will I beftow 
 Among my wife and her confederates, 
 For locking me out of my doors by day. 
 But, foft i 1 fee the goldfmith : get thee gone, 
 Buy thou a rope, and bring it home to me. 
 
 E. Dro. I buy a thoufand pound a year! I buy a 
 rope! \_Exit Dromio. 
 
 E. Ant. A man is well holp up, that trufts to you : 
 I promifed your prefence, and the chain : 
 
 But
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 243 
 
 But neither chain, nor goldfmith, came to me : 
 Belike, you thought, our love would laft too long 
 If it were chain'd together , therefore came not. 
 
 Ang. Saving your merry humour, here's the note, 
 How much your chain weighs to the utmoft carrat 5 
 The finenefs of the gold, the chargeful famion ; 
 Which do amount to three odd ducats more, 
 Than I ftand debted to this gentleman ; 
 I pray you, fee him prefently difcharg'd ; 
 For he is bound to fea, and ftays but for if. 
 
 E. Ant I am not furnifh'd with the prefent mony 5 
 Befides, I have fome bufmefs in the town -, 
 Good Signior, take the ftranger to my houfe, 
 And with you take the chain, and bid my wife 
 Disburfe the fum on the receipt thereof; 
 Perchance, I will be there as loon as you. 
 
 Ang. Then you will bring the chain to her yourfelf ? 
 
 E. Ant. No -, bear it with you, left I come not time 
 enough. 
 
 Ang. Well, Sir, I will: have you the chain about 
 you ? 
 
 E. Ant. An if I have not,"Sir, I hope, you have: 
 Or elfe you may return without your mony. 
 
 Ang. Nay, come, I pray you, Sir, give me the chain 5 
 Both wind and tide (lay for this gentleman ; 
 And I, to blame, have held him here too long. 
 
 E. Ant. Good lord, you ufe this dalliance to excufe 
 Your breach of promife to the Porcupine : 
 I mould have chid you for not bringing it ; 
 Bur, like a ihrew, you firft begin to brawl. 
 
 Mer. The hour (teals on , I pray you, Sir, difpatch. 
 
 sing . You hear, how he importunes me -, the chain 
 
 E. Ant. Why, give it to my wife, and fetch your 
 mony. 
 
 Ang, Come, come, you know, I gave it you, 
 
 ev'n now. 
 Or fend the chain, or fend me by fome token. 
 
 R 2 E. Ant.
 
 244 ^ Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 E. Ant. Fie, now you run this humour out of 
 
 breach : 
 Come, where's the chain ? I pray you, let me fee it. 
 
 Mer. My bufmefs cannot brook this dalliance: 
 Good Sir, fay, whe*r you'll anfwer me, or no 5 
 if not, I'll leave him to the officer. 
 
 E. Ant, I anfwer you? why fhould I anfwer you ? 
 
 Ang. The mony, that you owe me for the chain. 
 
 E, Ant. \ owe you none, 'till I receive the chain. 
 
 Ang. You know, I gave it you half an hour fince. 
 E. Ant. You gave me none ; you wrong me much 
 to fay fo. 
 
 Ang. You wrong me more, Sir, in denying it ; 
 Confider how it (lands upon my credit. 
 
 Mer. Well, officer, arreft him at my fuit. 
 
 Offi. I do, and charge you in the Duke's name to 
 obey me. 
 
 Ang. This touches me in reputation. 
 Either content to pay the fum for me, 
 Or I attach you by this officer. 
 
 E. Ant. Confent to pay for that I never had ! 
 Arreft me, foolifh fellow, if thou dar'ft. 
 
 Ang. Here is thy fee -, arreft him, officer ; 
 J would not fpare my brother in this cafe, 
 If he fhouid fcorn me fo apparently. 
 
 Offi. I do arreft you, Sir j you hear the fuit. 
 E. Ar,t. I ao obey thee, 'till I give thee bail. 
 But, Sirrah, you fhall buy this fport as dear 
 As all the metal in your fhop will anfwer 
 
 Ang. Sir, Sir, I fliall have law in Ephefus, 
 To your notorious fhame, I doubt it not. 
 
 S C E N E - II. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Syracufe, from the Bay. 
 S. Dro. Matter, there is a bark of Epidamnum, 
 That flays but till her owner comes aboard ; 
 
 Then,
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 245 
 
 Then, Sir, fhe bears away. Our fraughtage, Sir, 
 I have convey'd aboard ; and I have bought 
 The O}'/, the Balfamum^ and Aqua-vitte. 
 The fhip is in her trim ; the merry wind 
 Blows fair from land j they ftay for nought at all, 
 But for their owner, matter, and yourfelf. 
 
 E. Ant. How now ! a mad man ! why, thou peevifh 
 
 fheep, 
 What fhip of Epidamnum ftays for me ? 
 
 S. Dro A (hip you fent me to, to hire waftage. 
 
 E. Ant. Thou drunken Qave, I fent thee for a ropej 
 And told thee to what purpofe, and what end. 
 
 5". Dro. You fent me for a ropeVend as foon : 
 You fent me to the bay, Sir, for a bark. 
 
 E. Ant. I will debate this matter at more leifure, 
 And teach your ears to lift me with more heed. 
 To Adriana, villain, hie thee ftraighr, 
 Give her this key, and tell her, in the desk 
 That's cover'd o'er with I'urki/h tapeftry, 
 There is a purfe of ducats, let her fend it: 
 Tell her, I am arrefted in the ftreet, 
 And that mail bail me ; hie thee, flavej be gone: 
 On, officer, to prifon 'till it come. [Exeunt. 
 
 S. Dro. To Adriana! that is where we din'd, 
 Where Dowfabel did claim me for her husband ; 
 She is too big, I hope, for me to compafs. 
 Thither I muft, altho' againft my will, 
 For fervants muft their matters' minds fulfil. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Changes to E. Antipholis'-f Houfe. 
 
 Enter Adriana and Luciana. 
 
 Adr. \ H, Luciano,, did he tempt thee fo? 
 
 /\ Might'ft thou perceive aufterely in his eye 
 That he did plead in earned, yea or no ? 
 
 R 3 Looktt
 
 246 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 LookM he or red or pale, or fad or merrily ? 
 What obfervation mad'ft thou in this cafe, 
 Of his heart's l meteors tilting in his face? 
 
 Luc. Firft he deny'd, you had in him no right. 
 
 Adr. He meant, he did me none, the more my fpight. 
 
 Luc. Then fwore he, that he was a ftranger here. 
 
 Adr. And true he fwore, though yet forfworn he 
 were. 
 
 Luc. Then pleaded I for you. 
 
 Adr. And what faid he? 
 
 Luc. That love I begg'd for you, he begg'd of me. 
 
 Adr. With what perfuafion did he tempt thy love? 
 
 Luc. Wirh words, that in an honeft fuit might move. 
 Firft, he did praife my beauty, then my fpeech. 
 
 Adr. Did'ft (peak him fair ? 
 
 Luc. Have patience, I befeech. 
 
 Adr, I cannot, nor I will not, hold me ftill ; 
 My tongue, though not my heart, (hall have its will. 
 He is deformed, crooked, old and fere, 
 Pil-fac'd, worfe-body'd, fhapdefs every where; 
 Vicious, ungentle, foolifh, blunt, unkind, 
 Stigmatical in making, worfe in mind. 
 
 Luc. Who would be jealous then of fuch a one? 
 No evil loft is wail'd, when it is gone. 
 
 Adr. Ah! but I think him better than I fay, 
 
 And yet, would herein others' eyes were worfe: 
 Far from her neft the lapwing cries away ; 
 
 My heart prays for him, tho* my tongue do curfe. 
 
 < meteors tilting in kit face?] Alluding to tiio>e nutfor-. 
 
 in the sky which have the appearance of lines of armies meeting 
 in the (hock. To this appearance he compares civu vvi.is in a,no 
 tiicr place, 
 
 Which, like tie rrtirors of a troubled Ktarjn, 
 
 .'Jll of one nature e f or.f fcbjtance bred, 
 
 D:d lately meet in the intefi'ine ftock 
 
 And furious c/o/ir of civil butchery, 
 
 S C E N k
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 S. Dro. Here, go ; the desk, the purfe 3 fwcet now, 
 make hafte. 
 
 Luc. How haft thou loft thy breath? 
 
 S. Dro. By running faft. 
 
 Adr. Where is thy mafter, Dromio ? is he well ? 
 
 S, Dro. No, he's in Tartar Limbo, worfe than hell ; 
 A devil in an everlafting garment hath him, 
 One, whofe hard heart is button'd up with fteel : 
 A fiend, a (a) fury, pitilefs and rough, 
 A" wolf, nay, worfe, a fellow all in buff; 
 A back- friend, a moulder-clapper, one that commands 
 The paflages of allies, creeks, and narrow lands ; 
 A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well ; 
 One, that, before the judgment, carries poor fouls to 
 hell. 
 
 Adr. Why, man, what is the matter? 
 
 S. Dro. I do not know the matter i he is 'refted on 
 the cafe. 
 
 Adr. What, is he arrefted ? tell me, at whofe fuit. 
 
 S. Dro. I know not at whofe fuit he is arrefted, 
 well ; but he's in a fuit of buff, which 'refted him, 
 that I can tell. Will you fend him, miftrefs, redemp- 
 tion, the mony in his desk ? 
 
 Adr. Go fetch it, fitter. This I wonder at, 
 
 [Exit Luciana. 
 
 That he, unknown to me, ihould be in debt ! 
 Tell me, was he arrefted on a bond ? 
 
 S. Dro. Not on a bond, but on a ftronger thing, 
 A chain, a chain ; do you not hear it ring ? 
 
 Adr. What, the chain? 
 
 [(a) f ury , Mr. Theobald, Vulg. />>>.] 
 
 R 4 5". Dro
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 
 
 S. Dro. No, no i the bell j 'tis time that I were 
 
 gone. 
 It was two ere I left him, and now the clock ftrikes 
 
 one. 
 
 Adr. The hours come back ! that I did never hear. 
 S. Dro. O yes, if any hour meet a ferjeant, a 5 turns 
 
 back for very fear. 
 Adr. As if time were in debt! how fondly doft 
 
 thou reafon ? 
 S. Dro. Time is a very bankrout, and owes more 
 
 than he's worth, to feafon. 
 
 Nay, he's a thief too *, have you not heard men fay. 
 That "Time comes ftealing on by night and day ? 
 If Time be in debt and theft, and a ferjeant in the way, 
 Hath he not reafon to turn back an hour in a day ? 
 
 Enter Luciana. 
 
 Adr. Go, Dromio *, there's the mony, bear it ftraight, 
 
 And bring thy mafter home immediately. 
 Come, fifter, I am preit down with conceit \ 
 
 Conceit, my comfort and my injury. [,%<?##/. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 Changes to the Street. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Syracufe. 
 
 S. Ant. *^p H E R E 's not a man 1 meet, but doth 
 
 L falute me, 
 
 As if I were their well-acquainted friend ; 
 And every one doth call me by my name. 
 Some tender mony to me, fome invite me ; 
 Some other give me thanks for kindnefles j 
 Some offer me commodities to buy. 
 Ev'n now a taylor call'd me in his (hop, 
 And fhow'd me filks that he had bought for me, 
 
 And
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 249 
 
 And therewithal took meafure of my body. 
 Sure, thefe are but imaginary wiles, 
 And Lapland forcerers inhabit here. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 5". Dro. Mafter, here's the gold you fent me for i 
 what, have you got rid of the picture of old Adam 
 new-apparel'd ? 
 
 S. Ant. What gold is this? what Adam doft thou 
 mean ? 
 
 S.Dro. Not that Adam, that kept the paradife-, 
 but that Adam^ that keeps the prifon j he that goes 
 in the calves skin, that was kill'd for the prodigal; 
 he that came behind you, Sir, like an evil angel, and 
 bid you rorfake your liberty. 
 
 S. Ant. I underftand thee not. 
 
 S. Dro. No? why, 'tis a plain cafe-, he that went 
 like a bafe-viol in a cafe of leather j the man, Sir, 
 that, when gentlemen are tired, gives them a fob, and 
 'refts them , he, Sir, that takes pity on decay'd men, 
 and gives 'em fuits of durance i * he, that fets up his 
 
 reft 
 
 2 he, that fets up bis reft to do more exploits 'with bis mace, than 
 a MORRis-^//ff.]5f/j up his Reft, is a phrafe taken from military 
 exercife. When gunpowder was firil invented, its force was very 
 weak compared to that in prefent ufe. This neceffarily required 
 fire-arms to be of an extraordinary length. As trie artitts improved 
 the ftrength of their powder, the fokheri proportionabiy fhortned 
 their arms and artillery ; fo that the cannon which Froi/urt tells 
 us was once fifty foot long, was contracted to lefs than ten. This 
 proportion likewife held in their muskets; fo that, till the middle 
 of the laft century, the musketeers always fupported their pieces 
 when they gave fire, with a Reft ftuck before them into the ground, 
 which they called fetting up their Reft, and is here alluded to. There 
 is another quibbling allufion too to the ferjeant's office of arreiling. 
 But what moft wants animadverfion is the morris pi^e, which is 
 without meaning, impertinent to the fenfe, and falfe in the alla- 
 fion ; no pike being ufed amongft the dancers fo called, or at leaft 
 not fam'd for much execution. In a word, Shake/pear wro:e, 
 
 a MAURICE-P/^, 
 
 i. e. a Pikeman of Prince Maurice's, army. He was the greateft 
 
 general
 
 250 Ike Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 reft to do more exploits with his mace, than a 
 Maurice-Pike. 
 
 S. Ant. What! thou mean'ft an officer? 
 
 S. Dro. Ay, Sir, the ferjeant of the band ; he, that 
 brings any man to anfwer it, that breaks his bond; 
 one that thinks a man always going to bed, and faith, 
 God give you good reft! 
 
 S. Ant. Well, Sir, there reft in your foolery. 
 Is there any fhip puts forth to night? may we be 
 gone ? 
 
 S. Dro. Why, Sir, I brought you word an hour 
 fince, that the bark Expedition puts forth to night, 
 and then were you hinder*d by the ferjeant, to tarry 
 for the hoy Delay ; here are the angels that you fent 
 for, to deliver you. 
 
 S. Ant. The fellow is diftract, and fo am I, 
 And here we wander in illufions ; 
 Some biefled power deliver us from hence ! 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter a Courtezan. 
 
 Cour. Well met, well met, mafter Antipbolis. 
 I fee, Sir, you have found the goldfmith now : 
 Is that the chain, you promis'd me to day ? 
 
 S. Ant. Satan, avoid ! 1 charge thee, tempt me not. 
 
 S. Dro. Mafter, is this miftrefs Satan ? 
 
 S. Ant. It is the devil. 
 
 S. Dro. Nay, (he is worfe, (he's the devil's dam i 
 and here fhe comes in the habit of a light wench, and 
 thereof comes, that the wenches fay, God dam me, 
 
 general of that age, and the conductor of the Low-country wars 
 againft Spain, under whom all the Englijh Gentry and Nobility were 
 bred to the fervice. Being frequently overborn with numbers, he 
 became famous for his fine Retreats, in which a ftand of Pikes is 
 of great fervice. Hence the Pikes of his army became famous for 
 IJieu military exploits. 
 
 that's
 
 The Comedy of E RRORS. 2ci 
 
 that's as much as to fay, God make me a light wench. 
 It is written, they appear to men like angels of light ; 
 light is an effecl: of fire, and fire will burn 5 ergo, light 
 wenches will burn ; come not near her. 
 
 Cour. Your man and you are marvellous merry, Sir. 
 Will you go with me, we'll mend our dinner here ? 
 
 S. Dro. Mafter, if you do expect fpoon-meat, be- 
 fpeak a long fpoon. 
 
 S. Ant. Why, Drormo ? 
 
 S. Dro. Marry, he muft have a long fpoon, that 
 muft eat with the devil. 
 
 S. Ant. Avoid then, fiend ! what cell'ft thou me of 
 
 fupping ? 
 
 Thou art, as you are all, a forcerefs : 
 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, 
 And I'll be gone, Sir, and not trouble you. 
 
 5. Dro. Some devils ask but the parings of one's 
 nail, a rufh, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, a nut, 
 a cherry-ftone : but me, more covetous, would have 
 a chain. Mafter, be wife ; an if you give it her, the 
 devil will make her chain, and fright us with it. 
 
 Cour. I pray you, Sir, my ring, or clfe the chain ; 
 I hope, you do not mean to cheat me fo ? [go. 
 
 S. Ant. A vaunt, thou witch ! come, Dromio^ let us 
 
 S. Dro. Fly pride, fays the peacock ; miftrefs, that 
 you know. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Manet Courtezan. 
 
 Cour. Now, out of doubt, Antipholis is mad ; 
 E!fe would he never fo demean himfelf. 
 A ring he hath of mine worth forty ducats, 
 And tor the fame he promis'd me a chain ; 
 Both one, and other, he denies me now. 
 
 The
 
 252 The Comedy of E RRORS. 
 
 Thereafon, that I gather, he is mad, 
 
 (Bcfides this prefcnt inftance of his rage) 
 
 Is a mad tale he told today at dinner, 
 
 Of his own door being {hut againft his entrance. 
 
 Belike, his wife, acquainted with his fits, 
 
 On purpofe fhut the doors againft his way. 
 
 My way is now to hie home to his houle, 
 
 And tell his wife, that, being lunatick, 
 
 He rufh'd into my houfe, and took perforce 
 
 My ring away. This courfe I fitted chufe ; 
 
 For forty ducats is too much to lofe. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Changes to the Street. 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Ephefus, with a Jailor. 
 
 E. Art, FJ E A R me not, man j I will not break 
 
 away ; 
 
 I'll give thee, ere I leave thee, fo much mony, 
 To warrant thee, as I am 'refted for. 
 My wife is in a wayward mood to day, 
 And will not lightly truft the mefienger. 
 That I mould be attached in Ephefus^ 
 I tell you, 'twould found harlhly in her ears. 
 
 Enter Dromio of Ephefus, with a Rope's-end. 
 
 Here comes my man ; I think, he brings the mony. 
 How now, Sir, have you that I fent you for ? 
 
 E. Dro. Here's that, I warrant you, will pay 
 them all. 
 
 P.. Ant. But where's the mony ? 
 
 E. Dro. Why, Sir, I gave the mony for the rope. 
 
 E. Ant. Five hundred ducats, villain, for a rope? 
 
 E. Dro. Til ferve you, Sir, five hundred at the rate. 
 
 . Ant. To what end did I bid thee hie thee home ? 
 
 E. Dro.
 
 the Comedy 0f E R R o R s. 253 
 
 E Dro. To a rope's-end, Sir , and to that end am 
 I return'd. 
 
 E. Ant. And to that end, Sir, I will welcome you. 
 
 [Beats Dromio. 
 
 Offi. Good Sir, be patient. 
 
 E. Dro. Nay, 'tis for me to be patient -, I am in 
 adverfity. 
 
 Offi. Good now, hold thy tongue. 
 
 E. Dro. Nay , rather perfuade him to hold his 
 hands. 
 
 E. Ant. Thou whorfon, fenfelefs villain ! 
 
 E. Dro. I would, I were fenfelefs, Sir, that I might 
 not feel your blows. 
 
 E. Ant. Thou art fenfible in nothing but blows, and 
 fo is an afs. 
 
 E. Dro. I am an afs, indeed ; you may prove it by 
 my long ears. I have ferv'd him from the hour of my 
 nativity to this inftant, and have nothing at his hands 
 for my fervice but blows. When I am cold, he heats 
 me with beating ; when I am warm, he cools me with 
 beating ; I am wak'd with it, when I fleep ; rais'd 
 with it, when I fit ; driven out of doors with it, when 
 I go from home ; welcomed home with it, when I 
 return ; nay, I bear it on my moulders, as a beggar 
 wont her brat ; and, I think, when he hath lam*d 
 me, I fhall beg with it from door to door. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and Pinch. 
 
 E. Ant. Come, go along j my wife is coming yon- 
 der. 
 
 E. Dro. Miftrefs, * refpice finem, refpectyour end ; 
 
 or 
 
 3 MiJIrefs, refpice fincra, refpeff your tnd ; or rather the pro- 
 pbecie, like the parrot, beware the ropis-end.] Thefe words feem 
 to allude to a famous pamphlet of that time, wrote by Buchanan 
 
 again ft
 
 254 ^ e Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 or rather the prophetic, like the parrot, beware the 
 rope's-end. 
 
 E. Ant. Wilt thou ftill talk ? {Beats Dromio. 
 
 Cour. How fay you now? is not your husband 
 mad ? 
 
 Adr. His incivility confirms no lefs. 
 Good Dodtor Pincb, you are a Conjurer, 
 Eftablifh him in his true fenfe again, 
 And I will pleafe you what you will demand. 
 
 Luc. Alas, how fiery and how fharp he looks! 
 
 Cour. Mark, how he trembles in his extafie! 
 
 Pinch. Give me your hand, and let me feel your 
 pulfe. 
 
 E. Ant. There is my hand, and let it feel your ear. 
 
 Pincb. I charge thee, Satan, hous'd within this man, 
 To yield poffeflion to my holy prayers ; 
 And to thy ftate of darknefs hie thee ftraight, 
 I conjure thee by all the Saints in heav'n. 
 
 E. Ant. Peace, doating wizard, peace ; I am not 
 mad. 
 
 Adr. Oh, that thou wert not, poor diftrefied foul ! 
 
 E. Ant. You minion, you, are thefe your cuftomers ? 
 Did this companion with the faffron face 
 Revel and feaft it at my houfe to day, 
 Whilft upon me the guilty doors were mut, 
 
 againft the Lord of Liddington ; which ends with thefe words, 
 Refpicefinem, refpice funem. But to what purpofe, unleft our Au- 
 thor would (hew that he could quibble as well in Englijh, as the 
 other in Latin, I confefs I know not. As for propbejying like the 
 parrot, this alludes to people's teaching that bird unlucky words ; 
 with which, when any paffenger was offended, it was the {land- 
 ing joke of the wife owner to fay, Take heed, Sir, my parrot pro- 
 pbejles. To this, Butler hints, where, fpeaking of Ralpbos skill 
 in augury, he fays, 
 
 Could tell what fultleft parrots mean, 
 
 That fpeak and think contrary clean ; 
 
 What member '//'j of ivhom they tafk, 
 
 When they cry ROPE, and walk, knave, walk. 
 
 And
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 255 
 
 And I deny'd to enter in my houfe ? 
 
 Adr. Oh, husband, God doth know, you din'd at 
 
 home, 
 
 Where, 'would you had remain'd until this time, 
 Free from thefe (landers and this open fhame ! 
 
 E. Ant. Din'd I at home? thou villain, what fay'ft 
 
 thou ? 
 
 E. Dro. Sir, footh to fay, you did not dine at home. 
 E. Ant. Were not my doors lock'd up, and I Ihut 
 
 out ? 
 E. Dro. Perdie, your doors were lock'd, and you 
 
 fhut out. 
 
 E. Ant. And did not me herfelf revile me there ? 
 E. Dro. Sans fable, me herfelf revil'd you there. 
 E. Ant. Did not her kitchen-maid rail, taunt, and 
 
 fcorn me ? 
 E. Dro. Certes, me did, the kitchen-veftal fcorn'd 
 
 you. 
 
 E. Ant. And did I not in rage depart from thence ? 
 E. Dro. In verity, you did ; my bones bear witnefs, 
 That fince have felt the vigour of your rage. 
 
 Adr. Is't good to footh him in thefe contraries ? 
 Pinch. It is no fhame ; the fellow finds his vein, 
 And, yielding to him, humours well his frenzy. 
 E. Ant. Thou haft fuborn'd the goldfmith to arreft 
 
 me. 
 
 Adr. Alas, I fcnt you mony to redeem you, 
 By Dromio here, who came in hafte for it. 
 
 E, Dro. Mony by me ? heart and good will you 
 
 might, 
 Bat, furely, mafter, not a rag of mony. 
 
 E. Ant. Went'ft not thou to her for a purfc of du- 
 cats ? 
 
 Adr. He came to me, and I deliver'd it. 
 Luc. And I am witnefs with her, that (he did. 
 E. Dro, God and the rope-maker do bear me witnefs, 
 That J was fent for nothing but a rope. 
 
 Pinch
 
 256 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Pinch. Miftrefs, both man and matter are pofleft j 
 I know it by their pale and deadly looks ; 
 They muft be bound, and laid in fome dark room. 
 
 E. Ant. Say, wherefore didft thou lock me forth to 
 
 day, 
 And why doft thou deny the bag of gold ? 
 
 Adr. I did not, gentle husband, lock thee forth. 
 
 E. Dro. And, gentle matter, I receiv'd no gold, 
 But I confefs, Sir, that we were lock'd out. 
 
 Adr. Diflfembling villain, thou fpeak'ft falfe in both. 
 
 E Ant. DifTembling harlot, thou art falfe in all ; 
 And art confederate with a damned -pack, 
 To make a loath fome abject fcorn of me : 
 But with thefe nails I'll pluck out thofe falfe eyes, 
 That would behold in me this fhameful fport. 
 
 Enter three or four, and offer to bind kirn : bejirives. 
 
 Adr. Oh, bind him, bind him, let him not come 
 
 near me. 
 : Pinch. More company ; the fiend is ftrong within 
 
 him. 
 Luc. Ay me, poor man, ho^ pale and wan he 
 
 looks ! 
 E. Ant. What, will you murther me ? thou jailor, 
 
 thou, 
 
 I am thy prifoner, wilt thou fuffer them 
 To make a refcue ? 
 
 Offi. Matters ; let him go : 
 He is my prifoner, and you fhall not have him. 
 Pinch. Go, bind this man, for he is frantick too. 
 Adr. What wilt thou do, thou peevifh officer ? 
 Haft thou delight to fee a wretched man 
 Do outrage and difpleafure to himfelf ? 
 
 Offi. He is my prifoner ; if I let him go, 
 The debt, he owes, will be requir'd of me. 
 
 Adr. I will difcharge thee, ere I go from thee ; 
 
 Bear
 
 "The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Bear me forthwith unto his creditor, 
 
 [They bind Antipholis and Dromio. 
 And, knowing how the debt grows, I will pay it. 
 Good mailer Doctor, fee him fafe convey'd 
 Home to my houfe. Oh, moft unhappy day ! 
 
 E. Ant. Oh, moft unhappy ftrumpet ! 
 
 E. Dro. Matter, I'm here enter'd in bond for you. 
 
 E. Ant. Out on thee, viJlain ! wherefore doft thou 
 mad me ? 
 
 E. Dro. Will you be bound for nothing? be mad, 
 good mafter , cry, the devil.- 
 
 Luc. God help, poor fouls, how idly do they talk ! 
 
 Adr. Go bear him hence ; fitter, ftay you with me. 
 \_Exeunt Pinch, Antipholis, flfl^Dromiq. 
 Say now, whofe fuit is he arrefted at ? 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 Manent Officer^ Adriana, Luciana, and Courtezan. 
 
 Offi. One Angela, a goldfmith ; do you know him ? 
 
 Adr. I know the man ; what is the fum he owes ? 
 
 Offi. Two hundred ducats. 
 
 Adr. Say, how grows it due ? 
 
 Qffi. Due for a chain, your husband had of him. 
 
 Adr. He did befpeak a chain for me, but had it not. 
 
 Cour. When as your husband all in rage to day 
 Came to my houfe, and took away my ring, 
 (The ring I faw upon his finger now) 
 Straight after, did 1 meet him with a chain. 
 
 Adr. It may be fo, but I did never fee it. 
 Come, jailor, bring me where the goldfmith is, 
 I long to know the truth hereof at large. 
 
 VOL. JIL S SCENE
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 
 
 SCENE XL 
 
 Enter Antipholis of Syracufe, with his Rapier 
 and Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 Luc. God, for thy mercy, they are loofe again. 
 Adr. And come with naked fwords ; 
 Let's call more help to have them bound again. 
 Offi. Away, they'll kill us. [7?<?jy run cut. 
 
 Manent Antipholis and Dromio. 
 
 S. Ant. I fee, thefe witches are afraid of fwords. 
 
 S. Dro. She, that would be your wife, now ran from 
 you. 
 
 S. Ant. Come to the Centaur^ fetch our fluff from 
 
 thence : 
 I long, that we were fafe and found aboard. 
 
 S. Dro. Faith, ftay here this night ; they will furely 
 do us no harm ; you faw, they fpake us fair, gave us 
 gold ; methinks, they are fuch a gentle nation, that 
 but for the mountain of mad flefh that claims marriage 
 of me, I could find in my heart to ftay here ftill, and 
 turn witch. 
 
 S. Ant. I will not ftay to night for all the town ; 
 Therefore away, to get our fluff aboard. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 A Street ; , before a Priory. 
 Enter the Merchant and Angelo. 
 
 A N G E L O. 
 
 I AM forry, Sir, that I have hinder'd you; 
 But, I proteft, he had the chain of me, 
 Tho' moft difhoneftly he doth deny it.
 
 The Comedy </RRORS. 259 
 
 Mer. How is the man efteem'd here in the city ? 
 
 Ang. Of very reverent reputation, Sir, 
 Of credit infinite, highly belov'd, 
 Second to none that lives here in the city ; 
 His word might bear my wealth at any time. 
 
 Mer. Speak foftly : yonder, as I think, he walks. 
 
 Enter Antipholis and Dromio of Syracufe. 
 
 Ang. 'Tis fo ; and that felf-chain about his neck, 
 Which he forfwore moft monftroufly to have. 
 Good Sir, draw near to me, I'll fpeak to him. 
 Signior Antipbolis 9 \ wonder much 
 That you would put me to this Ihame and trouble ; 
 And not without fome fcandal to yourlelf, 
 With circumftance and oaths fo to deny 
 This chain, which now you wear (b openly ; 
 Brides the charge, the mame, imprifonment, 
 You have done wrong to this my honeft friend * 3 
 Who, but for flaying on our controverfie, 
 Had hoifted fail, and put to fea to day : 
 This chain you had of me, can you deny it ? 
 
 S. Ant. I think, I had ; I never did deny it. 
 
 Mer. Yes, that you did, Sir ; and forfwore it too. 
 
 S. Ant. Who heard me to deny it, orforfwear it? 
 
 Mer. Thefe ears of mine, thou knoweft, did hear 
 
 thee : 
 
 Fie on thee, wretch ! 'tis pity, that thou liv'fl 
 To walk where any honeft men refort. 
 
 S. Ant. Thou art a villain, to impeach me thus. 
 I'll prove mine honour and my honefty 
 Againft thee prefently, if thou dar'ft ftand. 
 
 Mer. I dare, and do defie thee for a villain. 
 
 draw. 
 
 S 2 SCENE
 
 260 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Adriana, Luciana, Courtezan, and others. 
 Adr. Hold, hurt him not, for God's fake ; he is 
 
 mad ; 
 
 Some get within him, take his fword away : 
 Bind Dromio too, and bear them to my houfe. 
 
 S. Dro. Run, mafter, run ; for God's fake, take a 
 
 houfe ; 
 This is fome Priory ; in, or we are fpoil'd. 
 
 [Exeunt to the Priory 
 
 Enter Lady Abbefs. 
 
 All}. Be quiet, people ; wherefore throng you hi- 
 ther ? 
 
 Adr.' To fetch my poor diftracted husband hence; 
 Let us come in, that we may bind him faft, 
 And bear him home for his recovery. 
 
 Ang. I knew, he was not in his perfect wits. 
 
 Mer. I'm forry now, that I did draw on him. 
 
 Abb. How long hath this pofTefiion held the man ? 
 
 Adr. This week he hath been heavy, fower, fad, 
 And much, much different from the man he was : 
 But, 'till this afternoon, his paffion 
 Ne'er brake into extremity of rage. 
 
 Abb. Hath he not loft much wealth by wreck at fea ? 
 Bury'd fome dear friend ? hath not elfe his eye 
 Stray'd his affection in unlawful love ? 
 A fin,, prevailing much in youthful men, 
 Who give their eyes the liberty of gazing. 
 "Which of thefe forrows is he fubjecl; to ? 
 
 Adr. To none of thefe, except it be the laft ; 
 Namely, fome love, that drew him oft from home. 
 
 Abb. You fhould for that have reprehended him. 
 
 Adr. Why, fo I did. 
 
 Abb. Ay, but not rough enough. 
 
 Adr t
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 261 
 
 Adr. As roughly, as my modefty would let me. 
 
 Abb. Haply, in private. 
 
 Adr. And in affemblies too. 
 
 Abb. Ay, but not enough. 
 
 Adr. l It was the copy of our conference. 
 In bed, he flept not for my urging it ; 
 At board, he fed not for my urging it ; 
 Alone, it was the fubject of my theam ; 
 In company, I often glanc'd at it ; 
 Still did I tell him, it was vile and bad. 
 
 Abb. And therefore came it, that the man was mad. 
 The venom clamours of a jealous woman 
 Poifon more deadly, than a mad dog's tooth. 
 It feems, his fleeps were hinder'd by thy railing j 
 And thereof comes it, that his head is light. 
 Thou fay'ft, his meat was fauc'd with thy upbraidings j 
 Unquiet meals make ill digeftions ; 
 Thereof the raging fire of fever bred 5 
 And what's a fever, but a fit of madnefs ? 
 Thou fay'ft, his fports were hinder'd by thy brawls. 
 
 * Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth enfue, 
 
 * But moodie and dull melancholy, 
 
 [ * Kitifman to grim and comfortlefs defpair ?] 
 
 * And at her heels a huge infectious troop 
 
 * Of pale diftemperatures, and foes to life. 
 In food, in fport, and life-preferving reft, 
 
 1 // au<7J the Copy of our conference^ We are not to underhand 
 this word here, as it is now ufed, in opposition to an original ; 
 any thing done after a pattern ; but we are to take it in the neareft 
 fenfe to the Latin word Copia, from which it is derived. Adriana 
 would fay, her reproofs were the burden, the fulnefs of her confe- 
 rence, all the fubjeft of her talk. And in thefe acceptations the 
 word Copia was ufed by Writers before our Author's time, as well 
 as by his contemporaries. Mr. Theobald. 
 
 2 Kinfman to grim and comfortlefs defpair?] Shake/pear could 
 never make melancholy a male in tins line, and a female in tie 
 next. This was the foolifh inlertion of the firft Editors. I 
 have therefore put it into hooks, as fpurious. 
 
 83 Tu
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 To be cMurb'd, would mad or man or bead : 
 The confluence is then, thy jealous fits 
 Have feared thy husband from the ufe of wits. 
 
 Luc. She never reprehended him but mildly, 
 When he demeaned himfelf rough, rude and wildly ; 
 Why bear you thefe rebukes, and anfwer not ? 
 
 Adr. She did betray me to my own reproof. 
 Good people, enter, and lay hold on him. 
 
 Abb. No, not a creature enter in my houfe. 
 
 Adr. Then, let your fervants bring my husband 
 forth. 
 
 Abb. Neither ; he took this place for fan&uary, 
 And it (hall privilege him from your hands v 
 'Till I have brought him to his wits again, 
 Or lofe my labour in afiaying it. 
 
 Adr. I will attend my husband, be his nurfe, 
 Diet his ficknefs, for it is my office ; 
 And will have no attorney but myfelf ; 
 And therefore let me have him home with me. 
 
 Abb. Be patient, for I will net let him ftir, 
 'Till I have us'd th* approved means I have, 
 With wholfome firups, 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. 
 
 Adr. \ will not hence, and leave my husband here ; 
 And ill it doth befeem your holinefs 
 To feparate the husband and the wife. 
 
 Abb. Be quiet and depart, thou (halt not have him. 
 
 Luc. Complain unto the Duke of this indignity. 
 
 [Exit Abbefs. 
 
 Adr. Come, go ; I will fall prcftrate at his feet, 
 And never rife, until my tears and prayers 
 Have won his Grace to come in perfon hither ; 
 And take perforce my husband from the Abbefs. 
 
 Mcr. By this, I think, the dial points at five : 
 
 Anon,
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 263 
 
 Anon, I'm fure, the Duke himfelf in perfon 
 Comes this way to the melancholy vale ; 
 The place of death and forry execution, 
 Behind the ditches of the abbey here. 
 
 Ang. Upon what caufe ? 
 
 Mer. To fee a reverend Syracufan merchant, 
 Who put unluckily into this bay 
 Againft the laws and flatutes of this town, 
 Beheaded publickly for his- offence. 
 
 Ang. See, where they come 5 we will behold his 
 death. 
 
 Luc. Kneel to the Duke, before he pafs the abbey. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter the Duke, and JEgeon bare-beaded ; with the 
 Hcadfman, and other Officers. 
 
 Duke. Yet once again proclaim it publickly, 
 If any friend will pay the fum for him, 
 He mail not die, fo much we tender him. 
 
 Adr. Juftice, moft facred Duke, againft the Abbefs. 
 
 Duke. She is a virtuous and a reverend Lady ; 
 It cannot be, that me hath done thee wrong. 
 
 Adr. May it pleafe your Grace, Antipholis my huf- 
 
 band, 
 
 (Whom I made lord of me and all I had, 
 At your important letters,) this ill day 
 A moft outrageous fit of madnefs took him ; 
 That defp'rately he hurry'd through the ftreet, 
 With him his bondman all as mad as he, 
 Doing difpleafure to the citizens, 
 By rufhing in their houfes ; bearing thence 
 Rings, jewels, any thing his rage did like. 
 Once did I gee him bound, and fent him home, 
 Whilft to take order for the wrongs I went, 
 That here and there his fury had committed : 
 Anon, I wot not by what ftrong efcape, 
 
 84 He
 
 264. Ike Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 He broke from thofe, that had the guard of him ; 
 * And, with his mad attendant mad himfelf, 
 Each one with ireful pafiion, with drawn iwords 
 Met us again, and, madly bent on us, 
 Chas'd us away ; 'till, raifing of more aid* 
 We came again to bind them ; then they fled 
 Into this abbey, whither we purfu'd them j 
 And here the Abbefs fhuts the gates on us. 
 And will not fuffer us to fetch him out, 
 Nor fend him forth, that we may bear him hence. 
 Therefore, molt gracious Duke, with thy command > 
 Let him be brought forth, and borne hence for help. 
 Duke. Long fince thy husband ferv'd me in my wars* 
 And I to thee ingag'd a Prince's word, 
 (When thou didft make him mafter of thy bed)) 
 To do him all the grace and good I could. 
 Go, fome of you, knock at the abbey-gate j 
 And bid the lady Abbefs come to me. 
 1 will determine this, before I ftir. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 Enter a Me/enger. 
 
 Meff. O miftrefs, miftrels, fhift and fave yourfelfj 
 My mafter and his man are both broke loofe, 
 Beaten the maids a-row, and bound the doctor, 
 Whofe beard they have fing'd off with brands of fire -, 
 And ever as it blaz'd, they threw on him 
 Great pails of puddled mire to quench the hair ; 
 My mafter preaches patience to him, and the while 
 His man with fciflars nicks him like a fool : 
 And, fure, unlefs you fend fome prefent help, 
 Between them they will kill the conjurer. 
 
 3 And, <with his mad attendant AND bimfflf,'] We fliould rea-.i, 
 MAD himfelf. 
 
 Mr.
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. -265 
 
 Adr. Peace, fool, thy mafter and his man are here, 
 And that is falfe, thou doft report to us. 
 
 Meff. Miftrefs, upon my life, 1 tell you true ; 
 I have not breath'd almoft, fince I did fee it. 
 He crys for you, and vows if he can take you, 
 4 To fcotch your face, and to disfigure you. 
 
 [Cry within. 
 Hark, hark, I hear him, miftrefs ; fly, be gone. 
 
 Duke. Come, ftand by me, fear nothing : guard 
 with halberds. 
 
 Adr. Ay me, it is my husband j witnefs you, 
 That he is borne about invifible ! 
 Ev'n now we hous'd him in the abbey here, 
 And now he's there, paft thought of human reafon. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Antipholis, and Dromio of Ephefus. 
 
 E. Ant. Juftice, moft gracious Duke, oh, grant me 
 
 juftice. 
 
 Even for the fervice that long fince I did thee, 
 When I beftrid thee in the wars, and took 
 Deep fears to fave thy life, even for the blood 
 That then I loft for thee, now grant me juftice. 
 
 Mgeon. Unlefs the fear of death doth make me dote, 
 I fee my fon AntipboKs, and Dromio. 
 
 E. Ant. Juftice, fweet Prince, againft that woman 
 
 there : 
 
 She whom thou gav'ft to me to be my wife 5 
 That hath abufed and difhonour'd me, 
 Ev'n in the ftrength and height of injury. 
 Beyond imagination is the wrong, 
 That me this day hath ihamelefs thrown on me: 
 
 Duke. Di (cover how, and thou malt find me juft. 
 
 4 To SCORCH your fact,'] We ftiould read SCCTCH, i.i. 
 
 hack, cut. 
 
 E Ant.
 
 266 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 E. Ant. This day, great Duke, me fhut the doors 
 
 upon me ; 
 Whilft fhe with harlots feafled in my houfe. 
 
 Duke. A grievous faulc ; fay, woman, didft thou fo ? 
 
 Adr. No, my good lord : myfeJf, he, and my fitter, 
 To day did dine together : fo befal my foul, 
 As this is falfe, he burthens me withal ! 
 
 Luc. Ne'er may I look on day, nor deep on night, 
 But foe tells to your highnefs fimple truth! 
 
 Ai'%. O perjur'd woman ! they are both forfworn. 
 In this the mad-man juftly chargeth them. 
 
 E. Ant. My Liege, I am advifed, what I fay. 
 Neither diflurb'd with the effect of wine, 
 Nor, hcrxdy-ram, provok'd with raging ire ; 
 Albeit, my wrongs might make one wifer mad. 
 This woman Jock'd me out this day from dinner ; 
 That goldfmith there, were he not pack'd with her, 
 Could, witnefs it ; for he was with me then ; 
 "Who parted with me to go fetch a chain, 
 Fromiling to bring it to the Porcupine, 
 Where Balthazar- and- I did dine together. 
 Our dinner done, and he not coming thither, 
 I went to feek him j in the ftreet I met him, 
 And in his company that gentleman. 
 There did this perjut'd goldfmith fwear me down, 
 That T this day from him receiv'd the chain ; 
 Which, God he knows, I'faw not ; for the which, 
 He did arrcil me with an officer. 
 I did obey, and fent my peafant home 
 For certain ducats , he with none return 'd. 
 Then fairly I befpoke the officer, 
 To go in perfon with me to my houfe. 
 By th* way we met my wife, her lifter, and 
 A rabble more of vile confederates ; 
 They brought one Pincb^ a hungry lean-fac'd villain, 
 ' A meer anatomy, a mountebank, 
 ' A thread- bare juggler, and a fortune-teller, 
 
 ' A needy,
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 267 
 
 * A needy, hollow-ey'd, fharp-looking wretch, 
 ' A living dead man ' This pernicious flave, 
 Forfooth, took on him as a conjurer ; 
 And, gazing in my eyes, feeling my pulfe, 
 And with no-face, as 'twere, out- facing me. 
 Cries out, I was poffeft. Then all together 
 They fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence ; 
 And in a dark and dankilh vault at home 
 There left me and my man, both bound together 5 
 'Till, gnawing with my teeth my bonds afunder, 
 I gain'd my freedom, and immediately 
 Ran hither to your Grace ; whom I beieech 
 To give me ample fatisfaction 
 For thefe deep fhames and great indignities. 
 
 Ang. My lord, in truth, thus far I witnels with him v 
 That he din'd not at home, but was lock'd out, 
 
 Duke. But had he fuch a chain of thee, or no ? 
 
 Ang. He had, my lord v and when he ran in here, 
 Thefe people faw the chain about his neck. 
 
 Mer. Beiides, I will be fworn, thefe ears of mine 
 Heard you confefs, you had the chain of him, 
 After you firft forfwore it on the mart ; 
 And thereupon I drew my fword on you ; 
 And then you fled into this abbey here, 
 From whence, I think, you're come by miracle. 
 
 K. Ant. I never came within thefe abbey walls, 
 Nor ever didft thou draw thy fword on me ; 
 I never faw the chain, fo help me heav'n ! 
 And this is falfe, you burthen me withal. 
 
 Duke. Why, what an intricate impeach is this ? 
 I think, you all have drunk of Circe'?, cup : 
 If here you hous'd him, here he would have been ; 
 If he were mad, he would not plead fo coldly : 
 You fay, he din'd at home ; the goldfmith here 
 Denies that faying. Sirrah, what fay you ? 
 
 E. Dro. Sir, he din'd with her there, at the Por- 
 cupine. 
 
 Cour.
 
 The Comedy 0f E R R o R s. 
 
 Cour. He did, and from my finger fnatch'd that 
 
 ring. 
 
 E. Ant. 'Tis true, my Liege, this ring I had of her. 
 Duke. Saw*it thou him enter at the abbey here ? 
 Cour. As fure, my Liege, as I do fee your Grace. 
 Duke. Why, this is ftrange, go call the Abbefs 
 
 hither , 
 1 think, you are all mated, or ftark mad. 
 
 [Exit one to the Abbefs. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Mgetm. Mod mighty Duke, vouchfafe me fpeak 
 
 a word : 
 
 Haply, I fee a friend, will fave my life; 
 And pay the fum that may deliver me. 
 
 Duke. Speak freely, Syracufan, what thou wilt. 
 
 Mgeon. Is not your name, Sir, calPd Antipholis? 
 And is not that your bond-man Dromio ? 
 
 E. Dro. Within this hour I was his bond-man, Sir, 
 But he, 1 thank him, gnaw'd in two my cords ; 
 Now am I Dromio, and his man unbound. 
 
 Mgeon. I am fure, you both of you remember me. 
 
 E. Dro. Ourfdves we do remember, Sir, by you; 
 For lately we were bound, as you are now. 
 You arc not Pinch's patient, are you, Sir? 
 
 Mgeon. Why look you ftrange on me ? you know 
 me well. 
 
 E. Ant. I never faw you in my life, *till now. 
 
 Mgeon. Oh ! grief hath chang'd me, fince you faw 
 
 me laft; 
 
 And careful hours with time's deformed hand 
 Have written (trange defeatures in my face ; 
 But tell me yet, doft thou not know my voice ? 
 
 E. Ant. Neither. 
 
 JEgeon. DromiOy nor thou ? 
 
 . Dro. No, truft me. Sir, nor I.
 
 The Comedy of E R R o R s. 269 
 
 JEgeon. I am fure, thou doft. 
 
 E. Dro. I, Sir? but I am fure, I do not : and what- 
 foever a man denies, you are now bound to believe 
 him. 
 
 JEgeon. Not know my voice! oh, time's extremity ! 
 Haft thou fo crack'd and fplitted my poor tongue 
 In feven fliort years, that here my only Ton 
 Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares? 
 
 Tho' now this grained face of mine be hid 
 
 In fap-confuming winter's drizled fnow, 
 
 And all the conduits of my blood froze up i 
 
 Yet hath my night of life fome memory ; 
 
 My wafting lamp fome fading glimmer left, 
 
 My dull deaf ears a little ufe to hear: 
 
 5 All thefe hold witnefles I cannot err, 
 
 Tell me thou art my fon Antipholis* 
 
 E. Ant. I never faw my father in my life. 
 
 JEgeon. But feven years fince, in Syracufa-bay, 
 Thou know'ft, we parted ; but, perhaps, my fon, 
 Thou fham'ft ^acknowledge me in mifery. 
 
 . Ant. The Duke, and all that know me in the 
 
 .city, 
 
 Can witnefs with me that it is not fb : 
 I ne'er faw Syracufa in my life. 
 
 Quke. I tell thee, Syracufon y twenty years 
 Have I been Patron to Antipbolis, 
 During which time he ne'er faw Syracufa : 
 I fee, thy age and dangers make thee doat. 
 
 5 All thefe OLD ivitneffes, I cannot err,"] I belie /e we fhould 
 read, All thefe HOLD nvitnefis I cannot err, 
 i. e. All thefe continue to teftify that I cannot err, and tell me, 
 
 SCENE
 
 The Comedy 0/ E R R o R s. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter the Abbefs with Antipholis Syracufan, and Dro- 
 mio Syracufan. 
 
 Abb. Mod mighty Duke, behold a man much 
 wrong'd. {_All gather to fee him. 
 
 Adr. I fee two husbands, or mine eyes deceive me. 
 Duke. One of thefe men is Genius to the other ; 
 And fo of thefe which is the natural man, 
 And which the fpirit ? who deciphers them ? 
 
 S. Dro. I, Sir, am Dromio; command him away. 
 . Dro. I, Sir, am JDromiot pray let me flay. 
 S. Ant. JEgeon^ art thou not? or elfe his ghoft ? 
 S. Dro. O, my old mafter! who hath bound him 
 
 here? 
 
 Abb. Whoever bound him, I will loofe his bonds i 
 And gain a husband by his liberty. 
 Speak, old Mgeon^ if thou be'ft the man, 
 That hadft a wife once call'd Mmilia^ 
 That bore thee at a burden two fair fons ? 
 Oh, if thou be'ft the fame JEgeon^ fpeak ; 
 And fpeak unto the fame SEmilia. 
 
 Duke. Why, here begins his morning ftory right; 
 Thefe two Antipholifs* thefe two fo like, 
 And thofe two Dremio's, one in femblance ; 
 Befides her urging of her wreck at fea, 
 Thefe plainly are the parents to thefe children, 
 Which accidentally are met together. 
 
 jEgcon. If I dream not, thou art ^Emilia ; 
 If thou art me, tell me where is that fon 
 That floated with thee on the fatal raft. 
 
 Abb. By men of Epidamnum^ he and I, 
 And the twin Dromio^ all were taken up ; 
 But, by and by, rude fi mermen of Corinth 
 By force took Dromio and my fon from them, 
 And me they left with thofe of Epldamnum. 
 
 What
 
 The Comedy of ERRORS. 271 
 
 What then became of them, I cannot tell ; 
 I, to this fortune that you fee me in. 
 
 Duke. Antiphoiis* thou cam' ft from Corinth firft. 
 
 S.Ant. No, Sir, not I; I came from Syracufe. 
 
 Duke. Stay, ftand apart; I know not, which is which. 
 
 E. Ant. I came from Corinth, my moft gracious 
 Lord. 
 
 E. Dro. And I with him. 
 
 E. Ant. Brought to this town by that moft famous 
 
 warrior, 
 Duke Menaphon, your moft renowned uncle. 
 
 Adr. Which of you two did dine with me to day ? 
 
 S. Ant. I, gentle miftrefs. 
 
 Adr. And are not you my husband ? 
 
 E. Ant. No, I fay nay to that. 
 
 S. Ant. And fo do I, yet (he did call me fo : 
 And this fair gentlewoman, her fifter here, 
 Did call me brother. What I told you then, 
 I hope, I fhall have leifure to make good, 
 If this be not a dream, I fee and hear. 
 
 Ang. That is the chain, Sir, which you had of me. 
 
 S. Ant. I think it be, Sir, I deny it not. 
 
 E. Ant. And you, Sir, for this chain arrefted:me. 
 
 An%. I think, I did, Sir ; I deny it not. 
 
 Adr. I fent you mony, Sir, to be your bail, 
 By Dromio ; but, I think, he brought it not. 
 
 E. Dro. No, none by me. 
 
 S. Ant. This purfe of ducats I receiv'd from you. 
 And Dromio my man did bring them me; 
 I fee, we dill did meet each other's man, 
 And I was ta'en for him, and he for me, 
 And thereupon thele Errors all arofe. 
 
 E. Ant. Thefe ducats pawn I for my father here. 
 
 Duke. It fhall not need, thy father hath his life. 
 
 Cour. Sir, I muft have that diamond from you. 
 
 E. Ant. There, take it ; and much thanks for my 
 good cheer.
 
 272 The Comedy of ERRORS. 
 
 Alb. Renowned Duke, vouchfafe to take the pains 
 To go with us into the abbey here, 
 And hear at Jarge difcourfed all our fortunes : 
 And all that are affembled in this place, 
 That by this fympathized one day's Error 
 Have fuffer'd wrong j go, keep us company, 
 And ye fhall have full fatisfa&ion. 
 Twenty five years have I but gone in travel 
 Of you my fons -, nor, 'till this prefent hour, 
 My heavy burdens are delivered : 
 The duke, my husband, and my children both, 
 And you the calendars of their nativity, 
 Go to a gofiip's feaft 6 and gaude with me : 
 After fo long grief fuch nativity ! 
 
 Duke. With all my heart, I'll gofllp at this feaft. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Manent the two Antipholis's, and two Dromio's. 
 
 S. Dro. Matter, fhall I fetch your fluff from (hip- 
 board? 
 E. Ant. Drcmio, what fluff of mine haft thou im- 
 
 bark'd? 
 S. Dro. Your goods, that lay at hoft, Sir, in the 
 
 Centaur. 
 S. Ant. He fpeaks to me ; I am your mafler, 
 
 Dromio. 
 
 Come, go with us, we'll look to that anon ; 
 Embrace thy brother there, rejoice with him. 
 
 [Exeunt Antipholis S. and E. 
 S. Dro. There is a fat friend at your matter's houfe, 
 That kitchen'd me for you to day at dinner : 
 
 6 and a o with me :] We (hould read, 
 
 and GAUDE ivtth me: 
 
 i. t. Rejoice, from the French, Gaudir. 
 
 Shs
 
 Comedy of E R R o R s, 
 
 She now (hall be my fitter, not my wife. 
 
 E. Dro. Methinks, you arc my glafs, and not my 
 
 brother : 
 
 I fee by you, I am a fweet-fac'd youth : 
 Will you walk in to fee their gofiiping ? 
 
 S Dro. Not I, Sir; you*re my elder. 
 
 E. Dro. That's a queftion : 
 How (hall I try it ? 
 
 S. Dro. We*ll draw cuts for the fenior: 
 'Till then, lead thou firft. 
 
 E. Dro. Nay, then thus [Embracing. 
 
 We came into the world, like brother and brother : 
 And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another. 
 
 [Extunt. 
 
 273 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 W I N T E R's 
 
 TALE. 
 
 T 2
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONM. 
 
 LEONTES, 
 
 Polixenes, King of Bohemia. 
 Mamillius, young Prince o/Sicilia. 
 Florizel, Prince of Bohemia. 
 Camillo, -\ 
 Antigonus, C 
 Cleomenes, f 
 Dion, V 
 Another Sicilian Lord. 
 
 Archidamus, a Bohemian Lord. 
 Rogero, a Sicilian Gentleman. 
 
 An Attendant on the young Prince Mamillius.' 
 
 Officers of a Court of Judicature. 
 
 Old Shepherd^ reputed Father of Perdita. 
 
 Clown> his Son. 
 
 A Manner. 
 
 Goaler. 
 
 Servant to the old Shepherd. 
 
 Autolicus, a Rogue. 
 
 Time, as Chorus. 
 
 Hermione, )ueen to Leontes. 
 
 Perdita, Daughter to Leontes and Hermione. 
 
 Paulina, Wife to Antigonus. 
 
 Emilia, Attendant on the Queen. 
 
 Two other Ladies. 
 
 ; \ 
 
 Satyrs for a Dance, Shepherds^ Shepherde/es^ Guards, 
 and Attendants. 
 
 SCENE, fometimes in Sicilia ; fometimes^ in 
 Bohemia. 
 
 THE
 
 'THE 
 
 WIN r E R's ? A L E. 
 
 ACT L SCENE I. 
 
 Jin Antichamber in LeontesV PALACE. 
 Enter Camillo and Archidamus. 
 
 DAMUS. 
 
 F you (hall chance, Camilla^ to vifit Bo- 
 hemia, on the like occafion whereon my 
 lervices are now on foot ; you (hall fee, 
 as 1 have faid, great difference betwixt 
 our Bohemia and your Siciiia. 
 Cam. I think, this coming fummer, the King of 
 Siciiia means to pay Bohemia the vifitation, which he 
 juftly owes him. 
 
 I The Winter*} Tale ] This play throughout is written in the 
 very fpirit of its author. And in telling this homely and fimple, 
 tho' agreeable, country tale, 
 
 Our fiueeteft Shakelpear./ary'.f child, 
 Warbles hn nati-ve wood notes wild. Milton. 
 
 This was neceffary to obferve in mere juitice to the Play, as the 
 meannefs of the fable, and the extravagant conduft of it, had 
 inifled fome of great name into a wrong judgment of its merit; 
 which, as far as it regards fentiment and character, is fcarce in- 
 feuor to any in the whole collection. 
 
 T 3 Artb.
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE, 
 
 Arch. Wherein our entertainment (hall mame ui, 
 we will be juftified in our loves ; for, indeed, 
 
 Cam. 'Befeech you 
 
 Arch. Verily, I fpeak it in the freedom of my 
 knowledge ; we cannot with fuch magnificence in 
 fo rare I know not what to fay we will give you 
 fleepy drinks, that your fenfes (unintelligent of our 
 infufficience) may, tho* they cannot praife us, as little 
 accufe us. 
 
 Cam.' ?ou pay a great deal too dear, for what's 
 given freely. 
 
 Arch, Believe me, I fpeak, as my Underftanding 
 inftrucls me ; and as mine honefty puts it to utterance. 
 
 Cam. Sicilia cannot mew himfelf over-kind to Bo- 
 hemia ; they were train'd together in their childhoods ; 
 and there rooted betwixt them then fuch an affection, 
 which cannot chufe but branch now. Since their more 
 mature dignities and royal neceflities made feparation 
 of their Jociety, their incounters, though not perfonal, 
 have been royally attornied with interchange of gifts, 
 letters, loving embaflies i that they have feem'd to be 
 together, tho* abfent ; Ihook hands, as over a Vaft ; 
 and embrac'd, as it were, from the ends of oppofed 
 winds. The heav'ns continue their loves ! 
 
 Arch. I think, there is not in the world either ma- 
 lice, or matter, to alter it. You have an unfpeakable 
 comfort of your young Prince Mamillim: it is a 
 gentleman of the greateft promife, that ever came in- 
 to my note. 
 
 Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of 
 him: it is a gallant child ; one that, indeed, phyficks 
 the fubjecl:, makes old hearts frem : they, that went 
 on crutches, ere he was born, defire yet their life to 
 fee him a man. 
 
 Arch. Would they elfe be content to die? 
 
 Cam. Yes, if there were no other excufe why they 
 (hould defire to live. 
 
 Arch.
 
 The WINTER/ TALE. 
 
 Arch. If the King had no fon, they would delire 
 to live on crutches 'till he had one. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Opens to the Prefence. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, 
 
 and Attendants. 
 
 Pol. ^T I N E Changes of the watry ftar hath been 
 JJN a (The fhepherd's note,) fmce we have left 
 
 our Throne 
 
 Without a burthen : time as long again 
 Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks ; 
 And yet we fhould, for perpetuity, 
 Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cypher, 
 Yet {landing in rich place, I multiply 
 With one, we thank you, many thoufands more 
 That go before it. 
 
 Leo. Stay your thanks a while j 
 And pay them, when you part. 
 
 Pol. Sir, that's to morrow : 
 I'm queftion'd by my fears, of what may chance, 
 Or breed upon our abfence, ? may there blow 
 
 2 Tkejbepberd's note, ] /. e . I ufe the fhepherd's reckoning. 
 
 3 THAT MAY blow 
 
 No /neaping winds at home, &C.] This is nonfenfe, we Ihould 
 read it thus, 
 
 MAT THERE blow, &C. 
 
 He had faid he was apprehend ve that his prefence might be wanted 
 at home; but, left this fhould prove an ominous fpeech, he en- 
 deavours, as was the cuftom, to avert it by a deprecatory prayer. 
 
 . may there blow 
 
 No /neaping winds to make us fay, 
 
 This -was put firth too truly. 
 
 Bat the Oxford Editor, rather than be beholden to this correction, 
 alters it to, 
 
 there may blanu 
 
 Some /neaping winds - * 
 and fo deftroys the whole fentiment. 
 
 T 4 No
 
 iPo The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 / 
 
 No (heaping winds at home, to make us fay, 
 s^/y " " This is put forth too truly." Bcfides, 1 have ftay'd 
 To tire your royalty. 
 
 L*0. We are tougher, brother, 
 >/ - x Than you can put us to't. 
 Pol No longer Stay. 
 Leo. One fev'n-night longer. 
 Pol. Very footh, to morrow. 
 Leo. We'll part the time bctween's then : and in that 
 I'll no gain- laying. 
 
 Pol. Preis me not, 'befeech you, fo i 
 There is no tongue that moves, none, none i'th* world, 
 So foon as yours, could win me: fo it mould now, 
 Were there neceffity in your requeft, altho* 
 'Twcre needful I deny'd it. My affairs 
 Do even drag me homeward ; which to hinder, 
 Were, in your love, a whip to me; my ftay, 
 To you a charge and trouble : to fave both,, 
 Farewcl, our brother. 
 
 Leo. Tongue-ty'd, our Queen ? fpeak you. 
 Her. I had thought, Sir, to've held my p? ace, unril 
 You'ad drawn oaths from him nor to (lay : you. Sir, 
 Charge him too coldly. Tel! him, you are furc, 
 All in Bsblerriia'i well : this fatisfa<5riori 
 The by-gone day proclaim'd -, fay this to him, 
 He's beat from his belt ward. 
 Leo. Well faid, Herr/iione. 
 
 Her. To tell, he longs to fee his ("on, were (Uong, 
 But let him (ay fo then, and let him go; 
 Bat let him (wear fo, and he (hall not liayj 
 We'll thwack him hence with diftaffs. 
 Yet of your royal prcience I'll adventure ['/I Pol. 
 The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia 
 You uke my lord, 4 I'll give you my conii.Mffion, 
 
 To 
 
 4 Til ' s.i'ue HI M my commijjion j We fho i)d r< *a.
 
 Tke WINTER'/ TALE. 181 
 
 To let him there a month, 5 behind the geft 
 
 Prefix'd for's parting : 6 yet, good heed, Leontu, 
 
 I love thee not a jar o'th* clock behind * 
 
 What lady jhe_ her lord. You'll ftay ? ^ 
 
 Po/. No, Madam. 
 
 J&r. Nay, but you will ? 
 
 jPo/. I may not, verily. 
 
 Her. Verily? 
 
 You put me oif with limber vows j but I, 
 Tho' you would feek t'unfphere the ftars with oaths, 
 Should yet lay, " Sir, no going: verily, 
 ** You (hall not go j" a lady's verily is 
 As potent as a lord's. Will you go, yet? 
 Force me to keep you as a pri(bner, 
 Not like a gueit i ib you (hall pay your fees, 
 Wlien you depart, and lave your thanks. How fay 
 
 you? 
 
 My priioner ? or my gueft ? by your dread verily, 
 One of them you (hall be. 
 
 Pol. Your Gueil then, Madam : 
 To be your priioner, fhould import offending i 
 Which is for me lefs eafic to commit, 
 Than you to punifh. 
 
 Her. Not your Goaler then, 
 But your kind Hoftefs i come, I'll queftion you 
 Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were boys: 
 
 The verb let, or hinder, which follows, fhews the necefiity of it : 
 For fne could not fay Ihe would give her hu.<b.tnd a commiilion to 
 let or hinder himfelf. The commiflion is given to Polixenes, to 
 whom Ihe is freaking, to let or hinder her husband. 
 
 5 behind the geji] Mr. Theobald lays, he can neither trace, 
 
 r.or underhand the phrafe, and therefore thinks it fhould be jujl: 
 But the word geft is right, and fignifies a Itage or jjurrey. Jn 
 tne time of Royal Progrejfes the King's Itages, as we may lee by the 
 journals of them in the Herald's office, were called his CESTS ; 
 trom the old French word GIST E. Ditttrfirium. 
 
 6 yet, good heed, Leontes,] /. e yet take good heed, Lean- 
 to, to what I fajr. Which phraie, Mr. Theobald not underltanding, 
 he alters it to, good deed. 
 
 You
 
 282 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 You were pretty lordings then ? 
 
 Pol. We were, fair Queen, 
 Two lads, that thought there was no more behind, 
 But fuch a day to morrow as to day, 
 And to be boy eternal. 
 
 Her. Was not my lord 
 The verier wag o'th* two? 
 
 Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i'th* Sun, 
 And bleat the one at th* other : what we chang'd, 
 Was innocence for innocence ; we knew not 
 The doctrine of ill-doing ; no, nor dream'd, 
 That any did : had we purfu'd that life, 
 And our weak fpirits ne'er been higher rear'd 
 With ftronger blood, we mould have anfwer'd heaven 
 Boldly, Not guilty, 7 th s impofuion clear'd, 
 Hereditary ours. 
 
 Her. By this we gather, 
 You have tript fmce. 
 
 Pol. O my moft facred lady, 
 Temptations have fmce then been born to's: for 
 In thofe unfledg'd days was my wife a girl ; 
 Your precious fclf had not then crofs'd the eyes 
 Of my young play-fellow. 
 
 Her. 8 Grace to boot ! 
 
 7 " tJy impofitisn cleared, 
 
 Hereditary ours."] i e. fetting afide original Jin', bating the 
 impofition from the offence of our firft parents, we might have 
 boldly protefted our innocence to heaven. 
 
 2 Grace to boot f 
 
 Of this make no conc/ujton, left you fay, &c.] Polixenes had 
 faid, that fince the time of childhood and innocence, temptations 
 had grown to them ; for that, in that interval, the two Queens were 
 become women. To each part of this obfervatkm the Queen an - 
 fwers in order. To that of temptations (he replies, Grace to boot! 
 i. e. tho' temptations have grown up, yet I hope grace too has 
 kept pace with them. Grace to boot, was a proverbial expreffion 
 on thefe occafions. To the other part, (he replies, as for our tempt- 
 ing you, pray take heed you draw no conclufion from thence, for 
 that would be making your Queen and me devils, &c. 
 
 Of
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 283 
 
 Of this make no conclufion, left you fay, 
 Your Queen and I are devils. Yet, go on ; 
 Th' offences we have made you do, we'll anfwer 5 
 If you firft finn'd with us, and that with us 
 You did continue fault ; and that you dipt not, 
 With any but with us. 
 
 Leo. Is he won yet? 
 
 Her. He'll flay, my Lord. 
 
 Leo. At my requeft he would not: 
 Hermione, my dearefl, thou ne'er fpok'ft 
 To better purpofe. 
 
 Her. Never? 
 
 Leo. Never, but once. 
 
 Her. What? have J twice faid well? when was't 
 
 before? 
 
 I pr'ythee, tell me ; cram's with praife, and make's 
 As fat as tame things : one good deed, dying tongue-lefs, 
 Slaughters a thoufand, waiting upon That. 
 Our praifes are our wages. You may ride's x 
 
 With one foft kifs a thoufand furlongs, ere ^A^^- 
 
 9 With fpur we heat an acreTRit to th' goal: ***** 
 My lad good deed was to intreat his ftay ; 
 What was my firft ? it has an elder fifter, 
 Or I miftake you : O, would her name were Grace ! 
 But once before I fpake to th' purpofe ? when ? 
 Nay, let me hav't ; I long. 
 
 Leo. Why, that was when 
 Three crabbed months had fowr'd themfelves to death, 
 
 9 With fpur ive beat an acre. But to tV goal:~\ Thus this paf- 
 fage has been always pointed ; whence it appears, that the Editors 
 did not take the Poet's conceit. They imagined that, But to th* 
 goal, meant, but to come to the purpofe ; but the fenfe is different, 
 and plain enough when the line is pointed thus, 
 
 With fpur nve beat an acre, but to tl) goal. 
 
 i. e. good ufage will win us to any thing ; but, with ill, we ftop 
 ftiort, even there where both our intereft and our inclination would 
 otherwife have carried us. 
 
 Ere
 
 284 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, 
 And clepe thyfclf my love j then didit thou utter 
 44 J arn yours for ever. 
 
 Her. 'Tis grace, indeed. 
 
 W hy, Jo you now j I've fpoke to th* purpofe twice ; 
 The one for ever earn'd a royal husband i 
 Th' other, for fome while a friend. 
 
 Leo. Too hot, too hot \_Afide. 
 
 To mingle friendfhip far, is mingling bloods. 
 1 have tremor cordis on me my heart dances ; 
 But not for joy not joy. This entertainment 
 May a free face put on , derive a liberty 
 From heartinefs, from bounty, fertile bofom, 
 And well become the Agent : 't may, I grant j 
 But to be padling palms, and pinching fingers, 
 As now they are, and making practis'd fmiles, 
 
 As in a looking-glafs and then to ligh, as 'twere 
 
 1 The mort o*th* deer ; oh, that is entertainment 
 My bofom likes not, nor my brows Mamidius^ 
 Art thou my boy ? 
 
 Mam. Ay, my good lord. 
 
 Leo. I' fecks! 
 Why, that's my bawcock ; what ? has*t fmutch'd thy 
 
 nofc? 
 
 They fay, ii's a copy out of mine. Come, captain^ 
 We mutt be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, captain j 
 And yet the fteer, the heifer, and the calf, 
 Are all call*d mat. Still virginalling 
 
 \Obferijing Polixenes and Her m lone, 
 
 Upon his palm? how now, you wanton calf! 
 
 Art thou my calf? 
 
 Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. 
 
 Leo. Thou want'ft a rough pafii, and the moots 
 
 that I have, 
 To be full like me. Yet they fay, we arc 
 
 i 'The mart tto d*tr ;- ] A lefiou upon ihe horn at the death 
 of the Uter. i.ir, 'Theobald. 
 
 Almoft
 
 *The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Almoft as like as eggs ; women fay fb, 
 That will fay any thing ; but were they falfe, 
 As o'er-dy'd blacks, as winds, as waters -, falfe, 
 As dice are to be wim'd, by one that fixes 
 No bourne 'twixt his and mine -, yet were it true 
 To fay, this boy were like me. Come, Sir page, 
 Look on me with your welkin-eye, fweet villain. 
 Mod dear'ft, mycollop can thy dam may'tbc 
 Imagination ! thou doft ftab to th* center. 
 Thou doft make pofilble things not be fo held, 
 Communicat'ft with dreams (how can this be?) 
 With what's unreal, Thou co-active art, 
 And fellow'ft Nothing. Then 'tis very credent, 
 Thou may'ft co-join with fomething, and thou doft, 
 And That beyond commifTion ; and I find it; 
 And That to the infection of my brains. 
 And hardning of my brows. 
 Pol. What means Sicilia ? 
 Her. He fomething feems unlettled. 
 Pol How? my lord? 
 
 Leo. What cheer ? how is't with you, beft brother ? 
 Her. You look, 
 
 As if you held a brow of much Diffraction. 
 Are not you mov'd, my lord? 
 
 Leo. No, in good earned. 
 How fometimes nature will betray its folly! 
 Its tendernefs ! and make itfelf a paftime 
 To harder bofoms ! Looking on the lines 
 Of my boy*s face, methougnts, I did recoil 
 Twenty-three years, and faw mylelf unbreech'd, 
 Jn my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled, 
 Left it fhould bite its mafter ; and fo prove, 
 As ornaments oft do, too dangerous ; 
 How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, 
 This fquafh, this gentleman. Mine honeft friend, 
 Will you take eggs for mony ? 
 Mam. No, n;y lord, I'll fight. 
 
 Lee.
 
 286 The WINTER/ TALE. 
 
 Leo. You will! why, happy man be's dole!- * 
 
 My brother, 
 
 Are you fo fond of your young Prince, as we 
 Do teem to be of ours ? 
 
 Pol. If at home, Sir, 
 
 He's all my exercife, my mirth, my matter; 
 Now my fworn friend, and then mine enemy ', 
 My parafite, my foldier, dates-man, all 5 
 He makes a July's day fhort as December ; 
 And with his varying childnefs, cures in me 
 Thoughts that mould thick my blood. 
 
 Leo. So ftands this Squire 
 Offic'd with me : we two will walk, my lord, 
 And leave you to your graver fteps. Hermione, 
 How thou lov'ft us, mew in our brother's welcome : 
 Let what is dear in Sicify, be cheap : 
 Next to thyfelf, and my young rover, he*s 
 Apparent to my heart. 
 
 Her. If you will feek us, 
 We are yours i'th' garden : mall's attend you there ? 
 
 Leo. To your own bents difpofe youj you'll be 
 
 found, 
 
 Be you beneath the sky : I am angling now, 
 Tho* you perceive me not, how I give line; 
 Go to, go to. [dfide, observing Her. 
 
 How me holds up the neb ! the bill to him ! 
 And arms her with the boldnefs of a wife 
 
 [Exeunt Polix. Her. and attendants, 
 
 Manent Leo. Mam. and Cam. 
 To her allowing husband. Gone already* 
 Inch-thick, knee-deep ; o*er head and ears, a fork'd 
 
 one. 
 
 Go, play, boy, play thy mother plays, and I 
 Play too , but fo difgrac'd a part, whofe iffue 
 "Will hifs me to my grave : contempt and clamour 
 Will be my knel. Go, play, boy, play there have 
 been, 
 
 Or
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 287 
 
 Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now ; 
 And many a man there is, even at this prefent, 
 Now while I fpeak this, holds his wife by th' arm, 
 That little thinks, me has been fluic'd in's abfence ; 
 And his pond fifh'd by his next neighbour, by 
 Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort 
 
 in't, 
 
 Whiles other men have gates ; and thofe gates open'd, 
 As mine, againft their will. Should all defpair, 
 That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
 Would hang themfelves. Phyfick for't, there is none: 
 It is a bawdy planet, that will ftrike 
 Where 'tis predominant ; and * 'tis powerful : think it. 
 Many a thoufand of 's have the difeafe and feel't not. 
 How now, boy ? 
 
 Mam. I am like you, they fay. 
 
 Leo. Why, that's fome comfort. 
 What ? Camilla there ? 
 
 Cam. Ay, my good Lord. 
 
 Leo. Go play, Mamillius thou'rt an honeft man : 
 
 [Exit Mamillius, 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Camilloy this Great Sir will yet (lay longer. 
 
 Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold 3 
 When you caft out, it (till came home. 
 
 Leo. Did ft note it? 
 
 Cam. He would not (lay at your petitions made ; 
 His bufmefs more material. 
 
 Leo. Didft perceive it? 
 
 2 "tls powerful: think it."] After this there are four lines of 
 infamous, fenfelefs ribaldry, ftuck in by fome profligate player, 
 which I have cafhier'd; and hope no learned cricick, or fine lady, 
 will efteem this a caftrated edition, for our having now and then 
 on the fame neceffity, and after haying given fair notice, taken the 
 fame liberty. 
 
 They're
 
 Tie WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 They're here with me already ; J whifp'ring, rounding ; 
 Sicilla is a fo-forth ; 'tis far gone, 
 When I fhall guft it laft. How came't, Camilla, 
 That he did ftay ? 
 
 Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty. 
 
 Leo. At the Queen's be't ; good, fhould be per- 
 tinent ; 
 
 But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken 
 By any underftanding pate but thine? 
 For thy conceit is foaking, will draw in 
 More than the common blocks ; not noted, is't, 
 But of the finer natures ? by fome feverals 
 Of head-piece extraordinary ; lower mefles, 
 Perchance, are to this bufmefs purblind? fay. 
 
 Cam. Bufinefs, my lord ? I think, moft underftand 
 Bohemia ftays here longer. 
 
 Leo. Ha? 
 
 Cam. Stays here longer. 
 
 Leo. Av, but why ? 
 
 Cam. Tofatisfie your Highnefs, and th' entreaties 
 Of our moft gracious miftrefs. 
 
 Leo. Satisfie 
 
 Th' entreaties of your miftrefs? fatisfie? 
 Let That fuffice. I've trufted thee, Camilla, 
 With all the things neareft my heart; as well 
 My chamber-counccls, wherein, prieft like, thou 
 Haft cleans'd my bofom : I from thee departed 
 Thy Penitent reform'd j but we have been 
 Deceiv'd in thy integrity j deceiv'd 
 In that, which feems fo. 
 
 Cam. Be it forbid, my lord 
 
 Leo. To bide upon't ; Thou art not honeftj or, 
 If thou inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward ; 
 Which hoxes honefty behind, reftraining 
 
 3 nvhifp'ring, rounding ;] i. e. rounding in the ear, 3 phrafe 
 in ufe at that time. But the Oxford Editor not knowing that, alters 
 the text to, vobijpring round. 
 
 From
 
 The WINTER/ TALE. 289 
 
 From courfe requir'd : or elfe thou muft be counted 
 
 A fervant grafted in my ferious Truft, 
 
 And therein negligent ; or elfe a fool, 
 
 That feeft a game plaid home, the rich flake drawn, 
 
 And tak'ft it all for jeft. 
 
 Cam. My gracious lord* 
 I may be negligent, foolilh and fearful ; 
 In every one of thefe no man is free, 
 But that his negligence, his folly, fear, 
 Amongft the infinite doings of the world, 
 4 Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, 
 If ever I were wilful negligent, 
 Ic was my folly ; if indullrioufly 
 I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 
 Noc weighing well the end ; if ever fearful 
 To do a thing, where I the iflfue doubted, 
 Whereof the execution did cry out 
 Againft the non-performance, 'twas a fear 
 "Which oft infects the wifeft : thefe, my lord, 
 Are fuch allow'd infirmities, that honefty 
 Is never free of. But, 'befeech your Grace, 
 Be plainer with me, let me know my trefpafs 
 By its own vifage ; if I then deny it, 
 'Tis none of mine. 
 
 Leo. Ha'not you feen, Camilla, 
 (But that's paft doubt, you have ; or your eye-glafs 
 Is thicker than a cuckold's horn ;) or heard, 
 (For to a vifion fo apparent, rumour 
 Cannot be mute j) or thought, (for cogitation 
 Refides not in that man, that do's not think it 5) 
 My wife is flippery ? if thou wilt, confefs; 
 (Or elfe be impudently negative, 
 To have nor eyes nor ears, nor thought,) then fay, 
 Wy wife's a hobby-horfe, deferves a name 
 
 4 Commas and points fet right by Mr. Theolald. 
 
 VOL. IIL U As
 
 290 *tbe WINTER'^ TALE. 
 
 As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to 
 Before her troth-plight : fay't, and juftify't. 
 
 Cam. I would not be a itander-by, to hear 
 My fovereign Miftrefs clouded fo, without 
 My prefent vengeance taken ; 'fhrew my heart, 
 You never fpoke what did become you lefs 
 Than this ; which to reiterate, 5 were fin 
 As deep as that, tho* true. 
 
 Leo. Is whifpering nothing ? 
 Is leaning cheek to cheek ? is meeting nofes ? 
 Kitting with infide lip ? flopping the career 
 Of laughter with a figh ? (a note infallible 
 Of breaking honefty :) horfing foot on foot ? 
 Skulking in corners ? wifhing clocks more fwift ? 
 Hours, minutes ? the noon, midnight, and all eyes 
 Blind with the pin and web, but theirs ; theirs only, 
 That would, unfeen, be wicked ? is this nothing? 
 Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing ; 
 The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing ; 
 My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have thefe nothings, 
 If this be nothing. 
 
 Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd 
 Of this difeas'd Opinion, and betimes ; 
 For 'tis moft dangerous. 
 
 Leo. Say it be, 'tis true. 
 
 Cam. No, no, my lord. 
 
 Leo. It is ; you lie, you lie : 
 I fay, thou lieft, Camilla^ and I hate thee ; 
 Pronounce thee a grofs lowt, a mindlefs flavc, 
 Or elfe a hovering temporizer, that 
 Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil, 
 Inclining to them both : were my wife's liver 
 Infected, as her life, fhe would not live 
 The running of one glafs. 
 
 5 'were Jin 
 
 As deep as that, tbo* true. ] /. e. Your fufpicion is as great 3 
 fin as would be that (if committed) for which you fufpeft her. 
 
 Cam.
 
 The WINTER/ TALE, 
 
 Cam. Who do's in fed her ? 
 
 Leo, Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging 
 About his neck ; Bohemia^ who, if I 
 Had fervants true about me, that bare eyes 
 To fee alike mine honour, as their profits, 
 Their own particular thrifts, they would do That 
 Which fhould undo more Doing : I, and thou 
 His cup-bearer, (whom I from meaner forme 
 Havebench'd, and rear'd to worfhip ; who may'ft fee 
 Plainly, as heav*n fees earth, and earth feesheav'n, 
 How 1 am gall'd ;) thou -might* ft be-fpice a cup, 
 To give mine enemy a Jafting wink ; 
 Which draught to me were cordial. 
 
 Cam. Sir, my lord, 
 
 I could do this, and that with no rafh potion, 
 6 But with a Jingring dram, that mould not work 
 Malicioufly, like poifbn : but I cannot 
 Believe this crack to be in. my dread miftrefs, 
 So fovereignly being honourable. 
 
 Leo. I've lov'd thee. Make't thy Queftion, and 
 
 go rot : 
 
 Do* ft think, I am fo muddy, fo unfettled, 
 To appoint my felf in this vexation ? Sully 
 The purity and whitenefs of my meets, 
 (Which to preferve, is fleep ; which being fpotted, 
 Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wafps :) 
 Givefcandal to the blood o'th* Prince, my fon, 
 Who, 1 do think, is mine, and love as mine, 
 
 6 But <vcith a lingring dram, tbaf foould not itw/f, 
 
 Malicioufly. like poifon : ] The thought is here beautifully 
 exprefled. He could do it with a dram that fhould have none of 
 thofe vifible effefts that detett the poifener. Thefe effedls he finely 
 calls the malicious workings of poifon, as if done with defign to 
 l>ftrayihe ufer. But the Oxford Editor would mend Shakefpear'* 
 expreffion, and reads, 
 
 that fiould not work 
 
 Like a malicious poifon : 
 
 So that Camillas reaibn is quite loft in this happy emendation. 
 
 U 2 With-.
 
 292 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 Without ripe moving to't ? would I do this ? 
 Could man fo blench ? 
 
 Cam. I muft believe you, Sir; 
 I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for't : 
 Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your Highnefs 
 Will take again your Queen, as yours at firft, 
 Even for your fon's fake, and thereby for fealing 
 The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms 
 Known and ally'd to yours. 
 
 Leo. Thou doft advife me, 
 Even fo as I mine own courfe have fet down : 
 I'll give no blemifli to her honour, none. 
 
 Cam. My lord, 
 
 Go then ; and with a countenance as clear 
 As friendfhip wears at feafts, keep with Bohemia^ 
 And with your Queen : I am his cup-bearer ; 
 If from me he have wholefome beveridge, 
 Account me not your fervant. 
 
 Leo. This is all ; 
 
 Do'r, and thou haft the one half of my heart ; 
 Do't not, thou fplit'ft thine own. 
 
 Cam. I'll do't, my lord. 
 
 Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me. 
 
 [*/. 
 
 Cam. O miferable lady ! but, for me, 
 What cafe ftand I in ? I muft be the poifoner 
 Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do'c 
 Is the obedience to a mafter ; one, 
 Who, in rebellion with himfelf, will have 
 All that are his, fo too. To do this deed, 
 Promotion follows. If I could find example 
 Of thoufands, that had ftruck anointed Kings, 
 And flourifh'd after, I'd not do't: but fmce 
 Nor brafs, nor ftone, nor parchment, bears not one ; 
 Let villany itfelf forfwear't. I muft 
 Forfake the Court ; to do't, or no, is certain 
 
 To
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 293 
 
 To me a break- neck. Happy {for reign now ! 
 Here comes Bohemia. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter PoJixenes. 
 
 Pol. This is ftrange ! methinks, 
 My favour here begins to warp. Not Ipeak ? 
 Good day, Camilla. 
 
 Cam. Hail, mod royal Sir ! 
 
 Pol. What is the news i'th* court ? 
 
 Cam, None rare, my Lord. 
 
 Pol. The King hath on him fuch a countenance, 
 As he had loft fome province, and a region 
 Lov'd, as he loves himfelf : even now I met him 
 With cuftomary compliment, when he, 
 Wafcing his eyes to th* contrary, and falling 
 A lip or" much contempt, fpeeds from me, and 
 So leaves me to confider what is breeding. 
 That changes thus his manners. 
 
 Cam. I dare not know, my Lord. 
 
 Pol. How, dare not ? do not ? do you know, and 
 
 dare not ? 
 
 Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts : 
 For to your lei f, what you do know, you muft ; 
 And cannot fay, you dare not. Good Camilla^ 
 Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror, 
 Which mews me mine chang'd too ; for I muft be 
 A party in this alteration, rinding 
 Myfelf thus alter'd with it. 
 
 Cam. There is a ficknefs 
 Which puts fome of us in diftemper ; but 
 I cannot name the difeafe, and it is caught 
 Of you that yet are well. 
 
 Pol. How caught of me ? 
 Make me not fighted like the bafilisk. 
 I've look'd on thoufands, who have fped the better 
 
 U 3 By
 
 WINTER'^ TALE. 
 
 By my regard, but kill'd none fo : Camilla, 
 
 As you are certainly a gentleman, 
 
 Clerk-like experienced, (which no lefs adorns 
 
 Our gentry, than our parents' noble names, 
 
 In whofe fuccefs we are gentle I befeech you, 
 
 If you know aught, which does behove my knowledge 
 
 Thereof to be inform'd, imprifon't not 
 
 In ignorant concealment. 
 
 Cam. I may not anfwer. 
 
 Pol. A ficknefs caught of me, and yet I well ? 
 I muft beanfwer'd. Doft thou hear, Camilla, 
 I conjure thee by all the parts of man, 
 Which honour does acknowledge, (whereof the leaft 
 Is not this fuit of mine,) that thou declare, 
 What incklency thou doft guefs of harm 
 Is creeping towards me ; how far off, how near 5 
 Which way to be prevented, if it be ; 
 If not, how belt to bear it. 
 
 Cam. Sir, I'll tell you. 
 Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him 
 That I think honourable ; therefore, mark my counfcl i 
 Which muft be ev'n as fwiftly follow'd, as 
 I mean to utter it ; or both yourfelf and me 
 Cry loft, and fo good night. 
 
 Pol. On, good Camilla. 
 
 Cam. I am appointed Him to murder you. 
 
 Pol. By whom, Camillo ? 
 
 Cam. By the King. 
 
 Pol. For what? 
 
 Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he fwears, 
 As he had feen't, or been an inftrument 
 7 To vice you to't, that you have toucht his Queen 
 Forbiddenly. 
 
 Pol Oh, then, my beft blood turn 
 To an infccled gelly, and my name 
 
 7 To vlccjfoa. tot, ] i, e. to draw, perfuade you. The cha- 
 
 Srafter called the Vice, in the ojd plays, was the Tempter to evil. 
 
 Be
 
 WINTER'* TALE. 295 
 
 BeyoakM with his, that did betray the beft! 
 Turn then my frefheft reputation to 
 A favour, that may ftrike the dulled noftril 
 Where I arrive j and my approach be fhun'd, 
 Nay, hated too, worfe than the great'lt infection 
 That e'er was heard, or read ! 
 
 Cam. Swear (a) this though over 
 By each particular ftar in heaven, and 
 By all their influences ; you may as well 
 Forbid the fea for to obey the moon, 
 As or by oath remove, or counfel make, 
 The fabrick of his folly ; whofe foundation 
 Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue 
 The {landing of his body. 
 
 Pol. How mould this grow ? 
 Cam. I know not ; but, I'm fure, 'tis fafer to 
 Avoid what's grown, than queftion how 'tis born. 
 If therefore you dare truft my honelty, 
 That lies inclofed in this trunk, which you 
 Shall bear along impawn'd, away to night ; 
 Your followers I will whifper to the bufinefs ; 
 And will by twoes, and threes, at feveral pofterns, 
 Clear them o'th' city. For myfelf, I'll put 
 My fortunes to your fervice, which are here 
 By this difcovery loft. Be not uncertain ; 
 For by the honour of my parents, I 
 Have utter'd truth ; which if you feek to prove, 
 I dare not ftand by ; nor mail you be fafer, 
 Than one condemned by the King's own mouth i 
 Thereon his execution fworn. 
 
 Pol. I do believe thee : 
 I faw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand ; 
 Be pilot to me, and thy places mail 
 Still neighbour mine. My fh.ips are ready, and 
 My people did expect my hence departure 
 
 [ (a) this though, Mr. Theobald - Vulg. 
 
 U4 TWO
 
 296 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Two days ago. This jealoufie 
 
 Is for a precious creature 5 as fhe's rare, 
 
 Muft it be great ; and, as his perfon's mighty, 
 
 Muft it be violent ; and, as he does conceive 
 
 He is difhonour'd by a man, which ever 
 
 Profefs'd to him ; why, his revenges muft 
 
 In That be made more bitter. Fear o'er- fhades me: 
 
 8 Good expedition be my friend, and comfort 
 
 The gracious Queen's -, part of his theam, but nothing 
 
 Of his ill-ta'en iufpicion ! Come, Camilla^ 
 
 I will refpecl: thee as a father, if 
 
 Thou bcar'ft my life off hence. Let us avoid. 
 
 Cam. It is in mine authority to command 
 The keys of all the pofterns : pleafe your Highnefs, 
 To take the urgent hour. Come, Sir, away. [Exeunt. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 The PALACE. 
 TLnter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies* 
 
 H E R M I O N E . 
 
 TAKE the boy to you ; he fo troubles me, 
 'Tis paft enduring. 
 j Lidy. Come, my gracious Lord. 
 Shall I be your play-fellow ? 
 Mam. No, I'll none of you. 
 
 i Lady. 
 
 8 Good expedition be my friend, and comfort 
 
 The gracious Queen ; ] But how could his expedition 
 
 cornfoit the Queen ? on the contrary it would increafe her Huf- 
 band's fufpicion. We Ihould read, 
 
 and comfort 
 
 Ihe gracious Queen's , 
 
 >. i. be expedition my friend, and be comfort the Queen's friend. 
 
 The
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 297 
 
 1 Lady. Why, my fweet Lord ? 
 
 Mam. You'll kifs me hard, and fpeak to me as if 
 I were a baby ftill ; I love you better. 
 
 2 Lady. And why fo, my Lord ? 
 Mam. Not for becaule 
 
 Your brows are blacker ; (yet black brows, they fay, 
 Become fome women beft ; fo that there be not 
 Too much hair there, but in a femicircle, 
 Or a half-moon made with a pen.) 
 
 2 Lady. Who taught you this ? 
 
 Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces : pray now, 
 What colour be your eye-brows? 
 
 i Lady. Blue, my Lord. 
 
 Mam. Nay, that's a mock : I've feen a lady's nolc 
 That has been blue, but not her eye-brows. 
 
 1 Lady. Hark ye, 
 
 The Queen, your mother, rounds apace : we mall 
 Prefent our fervices to a fine new prince 
 One of thefe days ; and then you'll wanton with us, 
 If we would have you. 
 
 2 Lady. She is fpread of late 
 
 Into a goodly bulk -, (good time encounter her !) 
 
 Her. What wifdom ftirs amongft you? come, Sir, 
 
 now 
 
 I am for you again. Pray you fit by us, 
 And telPs a tale. 
 
 Mam. Merry, or fad, ihall't be ? 
 
 Her. As merry as you will. 
 
 Mem. A fad tale's beft for winter. 
 I have one of fprights and goblins. 
 
 Her. Let's have that, good Sir. 
 Come on, fit clown, Come on, and do your beft 
 
 The Oxford Editor has thought fit to paraphrafe my corre&ien, 
 and To reads, 
 
 Heaven comfort 
 
 The gracious Queen ; > 
 
 To
 
 The WINTER"* TALE. 
 
 To fright me with your fprights : you're powerful 
 
 at it. 
 
 Mam. There was a man* 
 Her. Nay, come fit down ; then on. 
 Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard ; I will tell it 
 
 fofcly: 
 Yond crickets fhall not hear it. 
 
 Her. Come on then, and give't me in mine ear. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 Enter Leontes, Antigonus, and Lords. 
 
 Leo. Was he met there ? his train ? Camilla with 
 him ? 
 
 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them ; never 
 Saw I men fcowr fo on their way : I ey'd them 
 Even to their mips. 
 
 Leo. How blcit am I 
 Jn my juft cenfure ! in my true opinion ! 
 Alack, for lefler knowledge, how accurs'd 
 In being fo bleft! " There may be in the cup 
 " A fpider fteep'd, and one may drink; depart, 
 " And yet partake no venom ; for his knowledge 
 u Is not infected : but if one prefent 
 " Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known 
 " How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his fides 
 
 " With violent hefts. I have drunk, and feen 
 
 the fpider.. 
 
 Camilla was his help in this, his Pander : 
 There is a plot againft my life, my crown ; 
 All's true, that is miftrufted : that falfe villain, 
 Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him : 
 -* He hath difcover'd my defign, and 1 
 
 I He bath di fewer 1 el my defign, and I 
 
 Remain a pinch' d thing;- } Alluding to the fuperftiti- 
 on of the vulgar, concerning thofe who were enchanted, and fatten- 
 ed to die fpot, by charms fuperior to their own. 
 
 Remain
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 299 
 
 Remain a pinch'd thing ; yea, a very trick 
 For them to play at will : how came the pofterns 
 So eafily open ? 
 
 Lord. By his great authority, 
 Which often hath no lefs prevail'd than fo 
 On your command. 
 
 Leo. I know't too well. 
 
 Give me the boy -, I'm glad, you did not nurfe him. : 
 Though he does bear fome figns of me, yet you 
 Have too much blood in him. 
 
 Her. What is this, fport ? 
 
 Leo. Bear the Boy hence, he mall not come about 
 
 her ; 
 
 Away with him, and let her fport herfelf 
 With that flic's big with : for 'tis Polixems 
 Has made thee fwell thus. 
 
 Her. But I'd fry, he had not ; 
 And, I'll be fworn, you would believe my faying, 
 Howe'er you lean to th' nayward. 
 
 Leo. You, my lords, 
 
 Look on her, mark her well ; be but about 
 To fay, me is a goodly lady, and 
 The juftice of your hearts will thereto add, 
 'Tis pity, fhe's not honeft, honourable : 
 Praife her but for this her without- door form, 
 (Which on my faith deferves high fpeech,) and ftraight 
 The mrug, the hum, or ha, (thefc petty brands, 
 That calumny doth ufe : oh, I am out, 
 That mercy do's ; for calumny will fear 
 Virtue it felf.) Thefe fhrugs, thefe hums, and ha's, 
 When you have faid fhe's goodly, come between, 
 Ere you can fay fhe's honeft : but be't known, 
 (From him, that has moft caufe to grieve it ihould 
 
 be;) 
 She's an adukrefs. 
 
 Her. Should a villain fay fo, 
 The moft replenilh'd villain in the world, 
 
 He
 
 The WINTER^ TALE. 
 
 He were as much more villain : you, my lord, 
 Do but miftake. 
 
 Leo. You have miflook, my lady, 
 Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing, 
 Wnich I'll not call a creature of thy place, 
 Left barbanfm, making me the precedent, 
 Should a like language ufe to all degrees ; 
 And mannerly diftinguifhment leave out 
 Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have faid, 
 She's an adultrefs ; I have faid with whom : 
 More ; fhe's a traitor, and Camilla is 
 A federary with her ; and one that knows 
 What me mould fhame to know herfelf, 
 But with her mcft vile Principal, that Ihe's 
 A bed-fwerver, even as bad as thofe 
 That Vu'gars give bold'ft titles-, ay, and privy 
 To this their late efcape. 
 
 Her. No, by my life, 
 
 Privy to none of this : how will this grieve you, 
 When you mall come to clearer knowledge, that 
 You thus have publiih'd me ? gentle my lord, 
 You fcarce can right me throughly then, to fay 
 You did miftake. 
 
 Leo. No, if I miftake 
 In thefe foundations which I build upon, 
 The center is not big enough to bear 
 A fchool- boy's top. Away with her to prifon : 
 He, who mail fpeak for her, is far off guilty, 
 Buc that he fpeaks. 
 
 Her. There's fome iil planet reigns ; 
 I muft be patient, 'till the heavens look 
 With an afpect more favourable. Good my lords, 
 I am not prone to weeping ; (as our fex 
 Commonly are,) the want of which vain dew, 
 Perchance, fhall dry your pities ; but I have 
 That honourable grief lodg'd here, which burns 
 Worfe than tears drown : 'befeech you all, my Jords, 
 
 With
 
 The W INTER'* TALI. 301 
 
 With thoughts fo qualified as your charities 
 Shall bcft inftruct you, meafureme; and fo 
 The King's will be perform'd ! 
 
 Leo. Shall I be heard ? 
 
 Her. Who is't, that goes with me ? 'befeech your 
 
 Highnefs, 
 
 My women may be with me, for, you fee, 
 My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools, 
 There is nocaufe ; when you mail know, your miflrefs 
 Has deferv'd prifon, then abound in tears, 
 As I come out ; this action, I now go on, 
 Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord, 
 I never wifh'd to fee you forry ; now, 
 I truft, I mail. My women, come, you've leave. 
 
 Leo. Go, do your bidding ; hence. 
 
 [Exit Queen, guarded; and Ladies. 
 
 Lord. 'Befeech your Highnefs call the Queen again. 
 
 Ant. Be certain what you do, Sir, left your juftice 
 Prove violence ; in the which three Great ones fuffer, 
 Your felf, your Queen, yourfon. 
 
 Lord. For her, my lord, 
 I dare my Jife lay down, and will do't, Sir, 
 Pleafe you t'accept it, that the Queen is fpotlcfs 
 Pth' eyes of heaven, and to you, (I mean, 
 In this which you accufe her.,) 
 
 Ant. If it prove 
 
 She's otherwife, I'll keep my * ftable-ftand where 
 I lodge my wife, I'll go in couples with her: 
 Than when I feel, and fee, no further truft her; 
 For every inch of woman in the world, 
 Ay, every dram of woman's flefh is falfe, 
 If flic be. 
 
 Leo. Hold your peaces. 
 
 2 jlable-fland~\ Stable-fhnd is a term of the foreft laws, 
 
 and fignifies a place where a deer-itealer fixes his ftand, and keeps 
 watch for the purpofe of killing deer as they pafs by. Oxford 
 Editor. 
 
 Lord.
 
 *tf>e WINTER** TALE. 
 
 Lord. Good my lord, 
 
 Ant. It is for you we fpeak, not for ourfelves: 
 You arc abus'd, and by fome putter-on, 
 That will be damn'd for't ; 'would I knew the villain, 
 I would land-damm him : be me honour-flaw'd, 
 I have three daughters ; the eldefl is eleven j 
 The fecond, and the third, nine, and fome five ; 
 If this prove true, they'll pay for't. By mine honour, 
 I'll geld 'em all : fourteen they mall not fee, 
 To bring falfe generations , they are coheirs, 
 And I had rather glib myfelf, than they 
 Should not produce fair iffbe. 
 
 Leo. Ceafe ; no more : 
 You fmell this bufmefs with a fenfe as cold 
 As is a dead man's nofe ; I fee't and feel't, 
 As you feel doing thus ; and fee withal 
 The inftruments that feel. 
 
 Ant. If it be fo, 
 
 We need no grave to bury honefty ; 
 There's not a grain of it, the face to fweeten 
 Of the whole dungy earth. 
 
 Leo. What? lack I credit? 
 
 Lord. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord, 
 Upon this ground ; and more it would content me 
 To have her honour true, than your fufpicion ; 
 Be blam'd for't, how you might. 
 
 Leo. Why, what need we 
 Commune with you of this? but rather follow 
 Our forceful inftigation ? our prerogative 
 Calls not your counfels, but our natural goodnefs 
 Imparts this ; which, if you, (or ftupified, 
 Or feeming fo, in skill,) cannot, or will not 
 Relifh a truth like usj inform your felves, 
 We need no more of your advice ; the matter, 
 The lofs, the gain, the ord'ring on't, is all 
 Properly ours. 
 
 Ant* And I wifh, my Liege, 
 
 You
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 303 
 
 You had only in your filent judgment try'd it, 
 Without more overture. 
 
 Leo. How could that be ? 
 Either thou art moft ignorant by age, 
 Or thou wert born a fool. Camilla' 5 flight, 
 Added to their familiarity, 
 (Which was as grofs as ever touch'd conjecture, 
 That lack'd fight only ; nought for approbation, 
 But only feeing ; all other circumftances 
 Made up to th* deed) doth pufli on this proceeding; 
 Yet for a greater confirmation, 
 (For, in an act of this importance, 'twere 
 Moft piteous to be wild) I have difpatch'd in poft, 
 To facred Delphos* to Apollo's temple, 
 Cleomines and Dion, whom you know 
 Of ftuff'd fufficiency : Now, from the oracle 
 They will bring all: whofe fpiritual counfel had, 
 Shall flop, or fpur me. Have I done well ? 
 
 Lord. Well done, my Lord. 
 
 Leo. Tho* I am fatisfy'd, and need no more 
 Than what I know, yet mail the oracle 
 Give reft to th* minds of others ; fuch as he, 
 Whofe ignorant credulity will not 
 Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good 
 From our free perfon, (he mould be confin'd ; 
 Left that the treachery of the two, fled hence, 
 Be left her to perform. Come, follow us, 
 We are to fpeak in publick ; for this bufinefs 
 Will raife us all. 
 
 Ant. To laughter, as I take it, 
 If the good truth were known. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 304 ^ WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Changes to a Prifon. 
 
 Enter Paulina, and a Gentleman. 
 
 Paul.'~T* H E keeper of the prifon, call to him : 
 
 JL \_Exit Gentleman, 
 
 Let him have knowledge who I am. Good lady, 
 No court in Europe is too good for thee ; 
 What doft thou then in prifon ? now, good Sir, 
 You know me, do you not ? 
 
 Re-enter Gentleman, witb the Coaler. 
 
 Goa. For a worthy lady, 
 And one whom much I honour. 
 
 Paul. Pray you then, 
 Condu6b me to the Queen. 
 
 Goa. I may not, Madam ; 
 To the contrary I have e'xprefs commandment. 
 
 Paul. Here's ado to lock up honefty and honour 
 
 from 
 
 Th' accefs of gentle vifitors! Is't lawful, pray you, 
 To fee her women ? any of them ? Emilia ? 
 
 Goa. So pleafe you, Madam, 
 To put a- part thefe your attendants, I 
 Shall bring Emilia forth. 
 
 Paul. I pray you now, call her : 
 Withdraw yourfelves. \Exeunt Gent. &c. 
 
 Goa. And, Madam, 
 I mud be prefent at your conference. 
 
 Paul. Well ; be it fo, pr'ythee. 
 
 Enter Emilia. 
 
 Here's fuch ado to make no ftain a (lain, 
 As pafifes colouring. Dear gentlewoman, 
 How fares our gracious lady ? 
 
 Emil.
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 305 
 
 Emit. As well, as one fo great and fo forlorn 
 May hold together ; On her frights and griefs, 
 (Which never tender lady hath borne greater,) 
 She is fomething before her time, deliver'd. 
 
 Paul. A boy ? 
 
 Emit. A daughter, and a goodly babe, 
 Lufty, and like to live: the Queen receives 
 Much comfort in't: fays, My poor prifoner, 
 I'm innocent as you. 
 
 Paul. I dare be fworn : 
 
 Thefe dangerous, unfafe lunes i'th' King! befhrew them, 
 He muft be told on't, and he (hall j the office 
 Becomes a woman beft. I'll take't upon me. 
 If I prove honey-mouth, let my tongue blifter , 
 And never to my red-look'd anger be 
 The trumpet any more ! Pray you, Emilia, 
 Commend my bdt obedience to the Queen, 
 If me dares trull me with her little babe, 
 I'll fhew't the King, and undertake to be 
 Her advocate to th* loud'ft. We do not know, 
 How he may foften at the fight o'th' child : 
 The filence often of pure innocence 
 Pcrfuades, when fpeaking fails. 
 
 Emil. Moft worthy Madam, 
 Your honour and your goodnefs is fo evident, 
 That your free undertaking cannot mifs 
 A thriving iflue : there is no lady living 
 So meet for this great errand. Pleafe your ladyihip 
 To vifit the next room, I'll prefently 
 Acquaint the Queen of your moft noble offer, 
 Who but to day hammer'd of this defign -, 
 But durft not tempt a minifter of honour, 
 Left (he (hould be dcny'd. 
 
 Paul. Tell her, Emilia^ 
 I'll ufe that tongue I have ; if wit flow from't, 
 As boldnefs from my bofom, Ict't not be doubted 
 I (hall do good. 
 
 VOL. III. X Emil
 
 The WINTER'J TALE. 
 
 Emil. Now be you bleft for it! 
 I'll to the Queen : pleafe you, come fomething nearer. 
 
 Goa. Madam, if t pleafe the Queen to fend the babe, 
 I know not what I mall incur, to pafs it, 
 Having no warrant. 
 
 Paul. You need not fear it, Sir -, 
 The child was prifoner to the womb, and is 
 By law and procefs of great nature thence 
 Free'd and enfranchised j not a party to 
 The anger of the King, nor guilty of, 
 If any be, the trefpafs of the Queen. 
 
 Goa. I do believe it. 
 
 Paul. Do not you fear -, upon mine honour, I 
 Will ftand 'twixt you and danger. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Changes to the Palace. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords and other Attendants. 
 
 Leo. T^T OR night, nor day, no reft ; it is but 
 
 1.N weaknefs 
 
 To bear the matter thus ; meer weaknefs, if 
 The caufe were not in being ; part o'th* caufe, 
 She, the adultrefs ; for the Harlot-King 
 Is quite beyond mine arm ; out of the blank 
 And level of my brain ; plot- proof ; but fhe 
 I- can hook to me : fay, that me were gone, 
 Given to the fire, a moiety of my reft 
 Might come to me again. Who's there ? 
 
 Enter an Attendant. 
 
 Aiten. My Lord. 
 Leo. How do's the boy ? 
 Atten. He took good reft to night ; 'tis hop'd, 
 His ficknefs is difcharg'd. 
 
 Leo.
 
 Ihe WINTER'* TALE. 307 
 
 Leo. To fee his noblenefs ! 
 Conceiving the dishonour of his mother, 
 He ftraight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply ; 
 Faften'd, and fix'd the fhame on't in himfelfj 
 Threw off his fpirit, his appetite, his fleep, 
 And down-right languifh'd. Leave me folelyj go* 
 
 [Exit Attendant. 
 
 See how he fares. Fie, fie, no thought of him-, 
 The very thought of my revenges that way 
 Recoyl upon me j in himfelf too mighty, 
 And in his parties, his alliance ; let him be, 
 Until a time may ferve. For prefent vengeance, 
 Take it on her. Camilla and Pclixenes 
 Laugh at me } make their paftime at my forrow ; 
 They mould not laugh, if I could reach them ; nor 
 Shall fhe, within my power. 
 
 N 
 
 y 
 
 Enter Paulina, with a Child. 
 
 Lord. You muft not enter. 
 
 Paul. Nay rather, good my lords, be fecond to me : 
 Fear you his tyrannous paflion more, alas, 
 Than the Queen's life ? a gracious innocent foul, 
 More free than he is jealous. 
 
 Ant. That's enough. 
 
 Atten. [within. ~] Madam, he hath not flept to night 
 
 commanded, 
 None fhould come at him. 
 
 Paul. Not fo hot, good Sir ; 
 I come to bring him fleep. 'Tis fuch as you, 
 That creep like fhadows by him, and do figh 
 At each his needlefs heavings ; fuch as you 
 Nourim the caufe of his awaking. I 
 Do come with words, as medicinal, as true > 
 
 X 2 Honeft,
 
 308 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 5 Honeft, as either ; to purge him of that humour, 
 That preffes him from fleep. 
 
 Leo. What noife there, ho ? 
 
 Paul. No noife, my Lord, but needful conference, 
 About fome gofiips for your Highnefs. 
 
 Leo. How? 
 
 Away with that audacious lady. -Antigonus, 
 
 I charg'd thee, that (he mould not come about me j 
 I knew, me would. 
 
 Ant. I told her fo, my Lord, 
 On your difpleafure's peril and on mine, 
 She mould not vifit you. 
 
 Leo. What? can'ft not rule her? 
 
 Paul. From all difhonefty he can ; in this, 
 (Unlefs he take the courfe that you have done, 
 Commit me, for committing honour,) trull it, 
 He (hall not rule me. 
 
 Ant. Lo-you now, you hear, 
 When me will take the rein, I let her run, 
 But fhe'll not Humble. 
 
 Paul. Good my Liege, I come 
 And I befeech you, hear me, who profefs 
 Myfelf your loyal fervant, your phyfician, 
 Your mofl obedient counfellor : yet that dares 
 Lefs appear fo, in comforting your evils, 
 Tnan fuch as moft feems yours. I fay, I come 
 From your good Queen. 
 
 Leo. Good Queen ? 
 
 Paul. Good Queen, my Lord, 
 Good Queen, I fay, good Queen ; 
 4 And would by combat make her good, fo were I 
 
 A 
 
 3 Honeft, as either', ] / e whofe fubjedl is the Queen's in- 
 
 nccence : otherwife there would be a tautology. 
 
 4 And would by combat make her good, fo 'were I 
 
 A man, the ivorjl about you.~\ Paulina fuppofes the King's 
 jealaufy to be raifed and inflamed by the courtiers about him ; who, 
 fhe finely fays, 
 
 creep
 
 The WINTER'* TALE; 309 
 
 A man, on th* word about you. 
 
 Leo. Force her hence. 
 
 Paul. Let him, that makes but trifles of his eyes, 
 Firft hand me: on mine own accord, I'll off; 
 But firft, I'll do my errand. The good Queen, 
 For me is good, hath brought you forth a daughtc, 
 Here 'tis ; commends it to your bleffing. 
 
 [Laying down (be cbilc, 
 
 Leo. Out! 
 
 A mankind witch! hence with her, out o'door: 
 A moft intelligencing bawd! 
 
 Paul. Not fo ; 
 
 I am as ignorant in That, as you 
 In fo intit'ling me; and no lefs honeft 
 Than you are mad ; which is enough, I'll warrant, 
 As this world goes, to pals for honeft. 
 
 Leo. Traitors! 
 Will you not pufti her out ? give her the baftard. 
 
 [To Antigonus. 
 
 Thou dotard, thou art woman-tyr'd ; unroofted 
 By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the baftard, 
 Take't up, I fay ; give't to thy croan. 
 
 Paul. For ever 
 
 Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou 
 Take'ft up the Princefs, by that J forced bafenefs 
 Which he has put upon't ! 
 
 Leo. He dreads his wife. 
 
 creep likejbado'ws by I.nm, and do Jlgb 
 
 At each bis needlefs beamings : 
 
 Surely then, fhe could not fay, that were fhe a man, tbe <worft of 
 tbefe, fhe would vindicate her miftrefs's honour againft the King's 
 fufpicions, in fingle combat. Shakefpear, I am perfuaded, wrote, 
 
 Jo were / 
 
 A man, ON TH' ivorji about you. 
 
 i. e. were I a man, I would vindicate her honour, on the worft of 
 thefe fycophants that are about you. 
 
 5 forced bafenefi"] forced for unnatural. 
 
 X 3 Paul.
 
 jio Tfe WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Paul. So, I would, you did: then 'twere paft all 
 
 doubt, 
 You'd call your children yours, 
 
 Leo. A neft of tray tors ! 
 
 Ant. I am none, by this good light. 
 
 Paid. Nor I ; nor any 
 
 But one, that's here , and that's himfelf. For he 
 The facred honour of himfelf, his Queen's, 
 His hopeful fon's, his babe's, betrays to flander, 
 "Whofe fling is {harper than the fwoid's, and will not 
 (For as the cafe now (lands, it is a curfe 
 He cannot be compell'd to'r) once remove 
 The root of his opinion, which is rotten, 
 As ever oak or ftone was found. 
 
 Leo. A callat 
 
 Of boundlefs tongue, who late hath beat her husband, 
 And now baits me ! This brat is none of mine ; 
 It is the iffue ofPoIixenes. 
 Hence with it, and together with the dam, 
 Commit them to the fire. 
 
 Paul. It is yours ; 
 
 And, might we lay th* old proverb to your charge, 
 So like you, 'tis the worfe. Behold, my lords, 
 Altho' the print be little, the whole matter 
 And copy of the father ; eye, nofe, lip, 
 The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, 
 The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek, his fmiles, 
 The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger. 
 And thou, good Goddefs Nature, which haft made it 
 So like to him that got it, if thou haft 
 The ordering of the mind too, 'mongft all colours 
 No yellow in'f, left me fufpecl, as he does, 
 Her children not her husband's. 
 
 Leo. A grofs hag! 
 
 And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, 
 That wilt not flay her tongue. 
 Ant. Hang all the husbands.
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 311 
 
 That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourfelf 
 Hardly one fubject. 
 
 Leo. Once more, take her hence. 
 
 Paul. A moft unworthy and unnatural lord 
 Can do no more. 
 
 Leo. I'll ha' thee burnt. 
 
 Paul. I care not ; 
 
 It is an heretick that makes the fire, 
 Not me which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant, 
 But this moft cruel ufage of your Queen 
 (Not able to produce more accufation 
 Than your own weak-hing'd fancy) fomething favours 
 Of tyranny ; and will ignoble make you, 
 Yea, fcandalous to the world. 
 
 Leo. On your allegiance, 
 Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant, 
 Where were her life? flie durft not call me fo, 
 If me did know me one. Away with her. 
 
 Paul. I pray you, do not pufli me, I'll be gone. 
 Look to your babe, my lord, 'tis yours ; Jove fend her 
 A better guiding fpirit ! What need thefe hands? 
 You, that are t'hus fo tender o'er his follies, 
 Will never do him good, not one of you. 
 So, fo : farewel, we are gone. [#//. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Leo. Thou, traitor, haft fct on thy wife to this. 
 My child ? away with't. Even thou, thou that haft 
 A heart fo tender o'er it, take it hence, 
 And fee it inftantly confum'd with fire; 
 Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up ftraight : 
 Within this hour bring me word it is done, 
 And by good teftimony, or I'll feize thy life, 
 With what thou elfe call'ft thine: if thou refufe, 
 And wilt encounter with my wrath, lay fo: 
 The baftard brains with thefe my proper hands 
 
 X 4 Shall
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE, 
 
 Shall I dafh out : go take it to the fire, 
 For thou fett'ft on thy wife. 
 
 Ant. I did not, Sir: 
 
 Theie lords, my noble fellows, if they pleafe, 
 Can clear me in't. 
 
 Lord. We can ; my royal Liege, 
 He is not guilty of her coming hither : 
 
 Leo. You're liars all. 
 
 Lords. 'Befeech your Highnefs, give us better credit. 
 We've always truly ferv'd you, and befeech you 
 So to efteem of us : and on our knees we beg, 
 (As recompence of our dear fervices 
 Paft, and to come) that you do change this purpofe, 
 Which being fo horrible, fo bloody, muft 
 Lead on to fome foul iffue. We all kneel 
 
 Leo. I am a feather for each wind that blows: 
 Shall I live on, to fee this baflard kneel 
 And call me father? better burn it now, 
 Than curfe it then. But be it ; let it live: 
 Jt mail not neither. You, Sir, come you hither; 
 
 [To Antigonus. 
 
 You, that have been fo tenderly officious 
 With lady Margery, your midwife there, 
 To fave this baftard's life ; (for 'tis a baflard, 
 So fure as this beard's grey) what will you adventure 
 To fave this brat's life? 
 
 Ant. Any thing, my Lord, 
 That my ability may undergo, 
 And noblenefs impofe : at leaft, thus much ; 
 I'll pawn the little blood which I have left, 
 To fave the innocent ; any thing poffible. 
 
 Leo, It fhall be poffible , fwear by this fword,. 
 Thou wilt perform my bidding. 
 
 Ant. I will, my Lord. 
 
 Leo. Mark and perform it ; feeft thou ? for the fail 
 Of any point in't fhall not only be 
 Peath to thyfelf, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife, 
 
 Whom
 
 Tie WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoy n thee, 
 As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry 
 This female baftard hence, and that thou bear it 
 To fome remote and defart place, quite out 
 Of our dominions , and that there thou leave it, 
 (Without more mercy,) to its own protection 
 And favour of the climate. As by ftrange fortune 
 It came to us, I do in juftice charge thee, 
 On thy foul's peril and thy body's torture, 
 That thou commend it ftrangely to fome place, 
 Where chance may nurfe, or end it. Take it up. 
 
 Ant. I fwear to do this : tho' a prefent death 
 Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe; 
 Some powerful fpirit inftrucl the kites and ravens 
 To be thy nurfes ! Wolves and bears, they fay, 
 (Calling their favagenefs afide) have done 
 Like offices of pity. Sir, be profperous 
 In more than this deed does require ; and blefling, 
 Againft this cruelty, fight on thy fide! 
 
 Poor thing condemn'd to lofs. - 
 
 [Exif, with the child. 
 
 Leo. No ; I'll not rear 
 Another's ifTue. 
 
 Enter a Me.ffenger. 
 
 Mef. Pleafe your Highnefs, pofts, 
 From thofe you fent to th' oracle, are come 
 An hour fince. Cleomlnes and Dion, 
 Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed, 
 Hading to th' court. 
 
 Lord. So pleafe you, Sir, their fpeed 
 Hath been beyond account. 
 
 Leo. Twenty-three days 
 
 They have been abfent : this good fpeed foretels, 
 The great dpotto fuddenly will have 
 The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords, 
 Summon a lefiion, that we may arraign 
 
 Our
 
 314 H>e WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Our moft difioyal Lady ; for as me hath 
 
 Been publickly accus'd, fo fhall {he have 
 
 A juft and open tryal. While fhe lives, 
 
 My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me, 
 
 And think upon my bidding. [Exeunt feverally. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 A Part of Sicily y near the Sea-fide, 
 
 Enter Cleomines and Dion. 
 CLEOMINES. 
 
 TH E climate's delicate, the air moft fweet, 
 1 Fertile the ifle, the temple much furpaffing 
 The common praife it bears. 
 Dion. a It fhames report. 
 Foremoft it caught me, the celeftial habits, 
 (Methinks, I fo mould term them,) and the reverence 
 
 1 Fertile the ifle, ] But the temple of Apollo at Delphi was 
 
 rot in an ifland, but in Pbocis, on the continent. Either Shake- 
 fpear, or his Editors, had their heads running on De/os, an ifland 
 of the Cydades. If it was the Editor's blunder, then Sbakejpear 
 wrote, Fertile the foil, 
 
 which is more elegant too, than the prefent reading. 
 
 2 I s H A L L report, 
 
 FOR MOST /'/ caught me, &c.] What will he report? And 
 what means this reafon of his report, that the celeftkl habits molt 
 ftruck his obfervation ? We Ihould read, 
 
 IT SHAMES report. 
 
 FOREMOST it caught me, 
 
 Cleomines had juft before faid, that the Temple much furpajfed tit 
 
 (ammon praife it bore . The other, very naturally, replies it 
 
 jkames report, as far furpaffing what report faid of it. He then goes 
 on to particularize the wonders of the place : Foremoft, or firifc of 
 all, the priefts garments, then their behaviour, their aft of facri- 
 fice, &c. in reasonable good order. 
 
 Of
 
 Voe WINTER'* TALE. 315 
 
 Of the grave wearers. O, the facrifice 
 How ceremonious, folemn, and unearthly 
 It was i'th* offering! 
 
 Cleo. But of all, the burft 
 And the ear-deafning voice o'th* oracle, 
 Kin to Jove's thunder, fo furpriz'd my fenfe, 
 That I was nothing. 
 
 Dion. If th' event o'th' journey 
 Prove as fuccefsful to the Queen, (O be't fo !) 
 As it hath been to us, rare, pleafant, fpeedy, 
 3 The ufe is worth the time on't. 
 
 Cleo. Great Apollo^ 
 
 Turn all to th' beft ! thefe proclamations, 
 So forcing faults upon Hermione^ 
 I little like. 
 
 Dion. The violent carriage of it 
 Will clear, or end the bufinefs f .when the oracle, 
 (Thus by Apollo's great divine feal'd up,) 
 Shall the contents difcover : fomething rare 
 Even then will rufti to knowledge. Go j frefli horfes : 
 And gracious be the iflue! \JLxeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Reprefents a Court of Juftice. 
 
 Leontes, Lords and Officers, appear properly fitted. 
 
 Leo. T~ HIS feffion, (to our great grief, we pro- 
 
 1 nounce,) 
 
 Ev'n pufhes 'gainft our heart. The party try'd, 
 The daughter of a King, our wife, and one 
 Of us too much belov'd ; let us be clear'd 
 Of being tyrannous, fince we fo openly 
 
 3 The time is worth the ufe on't.} It fhould be juft the rererfe, 
 
 The ufe is worth the time ont. 
 and this alteration the Oxford Editor approves. 
 
 Pro-
 
 316 The WIN TER'J TALE. 
 
 Proceed in juftice, which mall have due courfe, 
 Even to the guilt, or the purgation. 
 Produce the prifoner. 
 
 Offi. It is his Highnefs* pleafure, that the Queen 
 Appear in perfon here in court. Silence ! 
 
 Hermione is brought in, guarded ; Paulina, and Ladies 
 attending. 
 
 Leo. Read the indictment. 
 
 Offi. Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King 
 ^fSicilia, thou art here accufed and arraigned of high 
 treafon, in committing adultery with Polixenes, King 
 of Bohemia, and confpiring with Camillo to take away 
 the life of our fovereign lord the King, thy royal hitf- 
 band ; the pretence whereof being by circumftances partly 
 laid open, tbou, Her mione, contrary to the faith and 
 allegiance of a true ftfjtcJ, didft counfel and aid them, 
 for their better fafety, to fly away by night. 
 
 Her. Since what 1 am to fay, muft be but That 
 Which contradicts my accufation ; and 
 The teftimony on my part, no other 
 But what comes from myfelf; it fhall fcarce boot me 
 To fay, Not guilty : mine integrity, 
 Being counted falfhood, fhall, as I exprefs it, 
 Be fo receiv'd. But thus, if powers divine 
 Behold our human actions, as they do, 
 I doubt not then, but innocence mall make 
 Falfe accufation blufh, " and tyranny 
 " Tremble at patience. You, my Lord, beft know, 
 Who leaft will feem to do io, my paft life 
 Hath been as continent, as chafte, as true, 
 As I am now unhappy ; which is more 
 Than hiftory can pattern, tho* devis'd, 
 And play*d, to take fpecl:ators. For behold me 
 A fellow of the royal bed, which owe 
 A moiety of the throne, a great King's daughter, 
 The mother to a hopeful Prince, here (landing 
 
 To
 
 W i N T E R'J T A L E. 
 
 To prate and talk for life and honour, Tore 
 
 Who pleafe to come and hear. For life, I prize it 
 
 As I weigh grief which I would fpare : for honour, 
 
 *Tis a derivative from me to mine, 
 
 And only That I fland for. I appeal 
 
 To your own confcience, Sir, before PoRxenes 
 
 Came to your court, how I was in your grace, 
 
 How merited to be fo ; fince he came, 
 
 "With what encounter fo uncurrent I 
 
 Have ftrain'd t*appear thus ; if one jot beyond 
 
 The bounds of honour, or in a6b, or will 
 
 That way inclining, hardned be the hearts 
 
 Of all that hear me, and my near'fl of kin 
 
 Cry, fie, upon my grave ! 
 
 Leo. I ne'er heard yet, 
 That any of thofe bolder vices wanted 
 Lefs impudence to gain-fay what they did", 
 Than to perform it firft. 
 
 Her. That's true enough ; 
 Tho' 'tis a faying, Sir, not due to me. 
 
 Leo. You will not own it. 
 
 Her. More than miflrtfs of, 
 What comes to me in name of fault, I muft not 
 At all acknowledge. For Polixenes* 
 With whom I am accus'd, I do confefs, 
 1 Jov'd him, as in honour he requir'd j 
 With fuch a kind of love, as might become 
 A lady like me ; with a love, even fuch, 
 So and no other, as your felf commanded : 
 Which not to have done, I think, had been in me 
 Both difobedience and ingratitude 
 To you, and towards your friend; whofe love had 
 
 fpoke, 
 
 Even fince it could fpeak, from an infant, freely, 
 That it was yours. Now for Confpiracy, 
 I know not how it taftes, tho* it be diih'd 
 For me to try how ; all I know of it,
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Is, that Camilla was an honeft man ; 
 
 And why he left your Court, the Gods themfelves 
 
 (Wotting no more than I,) are ignorant. 
 
 Leo. You knew of his departure, as you know 
 What you have underta'en to do in's abfence. 
 
 Her. Sir, 
 
 You fpeak a language that I underftand not ; 
 My life (lands in the level of your dreams, 
 Which I'll lay down. 
 
 Leo. Your A&ions are my Dreams. 
 You had a Baftard by Polixenes, 
 And I but dream'd it : as you were paft all fhame, 
 (Thofe of your Fact are fo) fo paft all truth ; 
 Which to deny, concerns more than avails : for as 
 Thy brat hath been caft out, like to it felf, 
 No father owning it, (which is, indeed, 
 More criminal in thee than it) fo thou 
 Shalt feel our juftice ; in whofe eafieft paffage 
 Look for no lefs than death. 
 
 Her. Sir, fpare your threats ; 
 The bug, which you would fright me with, I feek : 
 To me can life be no commodity. 
 The crown and comfort of my life, your Favour, 
 I do give loft ; for I do feel it gone, 
 But know not how it went. My fecond joy, 
 The firft-fruits of my body, from his prefence 
 I'm barr'd like one infectious. My third comfort, 
 (Starr'd moft unluckily,) is from my bread 
 (The innocent milk in its moft innocent mouth) 
 Hal'd out to murder ; my felf on every poft 
 Proclaimed a ftrumpet with immodeft hatred ; 
 The child-bed privilege deny'd, which 'longs 
 To women of all fafliion : laftly, hurried 
 Here to this place, i'th* open air, before 
 I have got ftrength of limit. Now, my liege, 
 Tell me what bleflings I have here alive, 
 That I mould fear to die ? therefore proceed : 
 
 Bat
 
 fhe WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 But yet hear this ; miftake me not ; no life,- 
 I prize it not a draw ; but for mine honour, 
 Which I would free, if I mail be condemned 
 Upon furmifes, (all proofs deeping elfe, 
 But what your jealoufies awake,) I tell you, 
 'Tis Rigour, and not Law. Your Honours all, 
 I do refer me to the Oracle : 
 Apollo be my judge. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Dion and Cleomines. 
 
 Lord. This your requeft 
 Is altogether juft ; therefore bring forth, 
 And in Apollo's name, his Oracle. 
 
 Her. The Emperor of Ruffia was my father, 
 Oh, that he were alive, and here beholding 
 His daughter's tryal ; that he did but fee 
 The fiatnefs of my mifery 5 yet with eyes 
 Of Pity, not Revenge ! 
 
 Offi. You here mail fwear upon the Sword of 
 
 Juftice, 
 
 That you, Cleomines and Dion, have 
 Been both at Delpbos, and from thence have brought 
 This feal'd up Oracle, by the hand deliver'd 
 Of great Apollo's Prieft ; and that fince then 
 You have not dar'd to break the holy Seal, 
 Nor read the fecrets in'c. 
 
 Cleo. Dion. All this we fwear. 
 
 Leo. Break up the Seals, and read. 
 
 Offi. Hermione is chafle^ Polixenes Uamelefs, Ca- 
 millo a true Subjeft^ Leontes a jealous Tyrant, his in- 
 nocent babe truly begot ten ; and the King /hall live with- 
 out an heir, if That, which is /<?/?, be not found. 
 
 Lords. Now blefled be the great Apollo / 
 
 Her. Praifed ! 
 
 Leo. Haft thou read truth ? 
 
 Of.
 
 320 The WINTER^ TALE. 
 
 Offi. Ay, my lord, even fo as it is here fet down. 
 Leo. There is no truth at all i'th* Oracle ; 
 The Seflion fhall proceed j this is meer falfhood. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Ser. My lord the King, the King, 
 
 Leo. What is the bufmefs ? 
 
 Ser. O Sir, I fhall be hated to report it. 
 The Prince your fon, with meer conceit and fear 
 Of the Queen's Speed, is gone. 
 
 Leo. How gone ? 
 
 Ser. Is dead. 
 
 Leo. dpollo's angry, and the heav'ns themfelves 
 Do ftrike at my injustice. How now, there ? 
 
 [Her. faints, 
 
 Pan. This news is mortal to the Queen : look 
 
 down, 
 And fee what death is doing. 
 
 Leo. Take her hence ; 
 Her heart is but o'er-charg'd ; (he will recover. 
 
 [Exeunt Paulina and ladies with Hermione, 
 
 S C E N E IV. 
 
 I have too much believ'd mine own fufpicion : 
 
 'Befeech you, tenderly apply to her 
 
 Some remedies for life. Apollo, pardon 
 
 My great Prophanenefs 'gainft thine Oracle ! 
 
 I'll reconcile me to Polixenes, 
 
 New woo my Queen, recal the good Camilla ; 
 
 (Whom I proclaim a man of Truth, of Mercy) 
 
 For being tranfported by my jealoufies 
 
 To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chofe 
 
 Camilla for the Minifter, to poifon 
 
 My friend Polixenes ; which had been done, 
 
 But that the good mind of Camilla tardied 
 
 My fwift Command ; tho' I with death, and with 
 
 Reward,
 
 The WINTER'^ TALE. 321 
 
 Reward, did threaten, and encourage him, 
 Not doing it, and being done ; he (moft humane, 
 And fill'd with Honour) to my kingly Gueft 
 Unclafp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here, 
 Which you knew great, and to the certain hazard 
 Of all incertainties himfelf commended, 
 No richer than his honour : how he gliders 
 Through my dark Ruft ! and how his Piety 
 Does my deeds make the blacker ! 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Paulina. 
 
 Pau. Woe the while ! 
 O, cut my lace, left my heart, cracking it, 
 Break too. 
 
 Lord. What fit is this, good lady ? 
 
 Pau. What ftudied torments, Tyrant, haft for me ? 
 What wheels ? racks? fires? what flaying ? boiling? 
 
 burning 
 
 In leads, or oils ? what old, or newer, torture 
 Muft I receive ? whofe every word deferves 
 To tafte of thy moft worft. Thy Tyranny 
 Together working with thy Jealoufies, 
 (Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 
 For girls of nine !) O, think, what they have done, 
 And then run mad, indeed; ftark mad, for all 
 Thy by-gone fooleries were but fpices of it. 
 That thou betray 'dft Polixenes, 'twas nothing} 
 That did but 4 mew thee off, a fool, inconftant, 
 And damnable ingrateful : nor was't much, 
 Thou would'ft have poifon'd good Camilla's honour, 
 To have him kill a King : poor trefpaffes, 
 
 4 Jhew tbee of a fool ] So all the copies. We fhould 
 
 read, -/hew tbee off, a fool, /'. e. reprefenl thee in thy 
 
 true colours ; a fool, an inconftant, &f c . 
 
 VOL. III> Y More
 
 322 The WIN TER'J TALE. 
 
 More monftrous (landing by ; whereof I reckon 
 
 The catting forth to crows thy baby -daughter, 
 
 To be, or none, or little ; tho' a devil 
 
 Would have fhed water out of fire, ere don't : 
 
 Nor is't dire<flly laid to thee, the death 
 
 Of the young Prince, whofe honourable thoughts 
 
 (Thoughts high for one fo tender) cleft the heart, 
 
 That could conceive a grofs and foolifh Sire 
 
 Bl. - ft'd his gracious Dam : this is not, no, 
 
 Laid to thy anfwer ; but the laft, O lords, 
 
 When I havefaid, cry, woe! the Queen, the Queen, 
 
 The fweeteft, deareft, creature's dead j and vengeance 
 
 for't 
 Not dropt down yet. 
 
 Lord. The higher Powers forbid ! 
 
 Pau. I fay, flic's dead : I'll fwear't : if word, nor 
 
 oath, 
 
 Prevail not, go and fee : if you can bring 
 Tincture or Juftre in her lip, her eye, 
 Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll ferve you 
 As I would do the Gods. ' But, O thou tyrant ! 
 Do not repent thefe things ; for they are heavier 
 Than all thy woes can ftir : therefore betake thee 
 To nothing but Defpair. A thoufand knees, 
 Ten thoufand years together, naked, fading, 
 Upon a barren mountain, and ftill winter 
 In ftorm perpetual, could not move the Gods 
 To look that way thou wert. 
 Leo. Go on, go on : 
 
 Thou canft not fpeak too much ; I have deferv'd 
 All tongues to talk their bittereft. 
 
 Lord. Say no more ; 
 
 Howe'er the bufinefs goes, you have made fault 
 I'th* boldnefs of your fpeech. 
 
 Pau. I am forry for't. 
 
 All faults I make, when I fliall come to know them, 
 I do repent : alas, I've fhew'd too much 
 
 The
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 323 
 
 The rafhncfs of a woman ; he is touch'd 
 
 To th' noble heart. What's gone, and what's pad 
 
 help, 
 
 Should be part grief. Do not receive affliction 
 At my petition, I befeech you ; rather 
 Let me be punifh'd, that have minded you 
 Of what you mould forget. Now, good my liege, 
 Sir, royal Sir, forgive a foolifh woman ; 
 The love I bore your Queen Jo, fool agal . 
 I'll fpeak of her no more, nor of your children : 
 I'll not remember you of my own lord, 
 Who is loft too. Take you your patience to you, 
 And Til fay nothing. 
 
 Leo. Thou didft fpeak but well, 
 When mod the truth ; which I receive much better 
 Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me 
 To the dead bodies of my Queen and fon ; 
 One Grave fhall be for both. Upon them fhall 
 The caufes of their death appear unto 
 Our ihame perpetual ; once a day I'll vifit 
 The Chapel where they lye, and tears, fhed there* 
 Shall be my recreation. So long as nature 
 Will bear up with this exercife, fo long 
 I daily vow to ufe it. Come, and lead me 
 To thefe forrows. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to Bohemia. A defart Country j the 
 Sea at a little Diftance. 
 
 Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner. 
 
 Ant. HP H O U art perfect then, our Ihip hath 
 
 JL touch'd upon 
 
 The defarts of Bohemia ? 
 
 Mar. Ay, my lord j and fear, 
 
 Y ^ We'vtt
 
 324 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 We've landed in ill time : the skies look grimly, 
 And threaten prefent blufters. In my confcience, 
 The heav'ns with that we have in hand are angry, 
 And frown upon's. 
 
 Ant. Their facred wills be done ! get thee aboard, 
 Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before 
 I call upon thee. 
 
 Mar. Make your bed hafte, and go not 
 Too far i'th' laril ; 'tis like to be loud weather. 
 Befides, this place is famous for the creatures 
 Of prey, that keep upon't. 
 
 Ant. Go thou away. 
 I'll follow inftantly. 
 
 Mar. I'm glad at heart 
 To be fo rid o' th' bufmcfs. [Exit. 
 
 Ant. Come, poor babe ; 
 
 I have heard, but not believ'd, the fpirits of the dead 
 May walk again ; if fuch thing be, thy mother 
 Appeared to me laft night -, for ne'er was dream 
 So like a waking. To me comes a creature, 
 Sometimes her head on one fide, fome another, 
 I never faw a vefiel of like forrow 
 So fill'd, and fo becoming 5 in pure white robes, 
 Like very fanctity, fhe did approach 
 My cabin where I lay ; thrice bow'd before me, 
 And, gafping to begin Ibme fpeech, her eyes 
 Became two fpouts ; the fury fpent, anon 
 Did this break from her. Good Antigonus^ 
 Since fate, againft thy better difpoiition, 
 Hath made thy perfon for the thrower- out 
 Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, 
 Places remote enough are in Bohemia, 
 There weep, and leave it crying ; and, for the babe 
 Is counted loft for ever and ever, Perdita\ 
 I pr'ythee, call't. For this ungentle bufmefs, 
 Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er fhalt fee 
 
 Thy wife Paulina more. And fo, with Ihrieks, 
 
 She
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 She melted into air. Affrighted much, 
 
 I did in time colled myfelf, and thought 
 
 5 This was fo, and no (lumber: Dreams are toys, 
 
 Yet for this once, yea, fuperflitioufly, 
 
 I will be fquar'd by this. I do believe, 
 
 Hermione hath fufier'd death ; and that 
 
 Apollo would, this being indeed the iflue 
 
 Of King Polixenes, it fhould here be laid, 
 
 Either for life or death, upon the earth 
 
 Of its right father. Blofibm, fpeed thee well ! 
 
 [ Laying down the child. 
 
 There lye, and there thy character: there thefe, 
 Which may, if fortune pleafe, both breed thee, pretty 
 
 one, 
 And flill reft thine. The florm begins ; Poor 
 
 wretch, 
 
 That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd 
 To lofs, and what may follow, (weep I cannot, 
 But my heart bleeds: and moft accurft am I 
 To be by oath enjoin'd to this.) Farewel ! 
 The day frowns more and more ; thou art like to 
 
 have 
 
 A lullaby too rough : I never faw 
 The heav'ns fo dim by day. A favage clamour! 
 Well may I get aboard ! this is the chace ; 
 I am gone for ever. [Exit, purfued by a bear. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter an old Shepherd. 
 
 Shep, *' I would there were no age between ten and 
 " three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out 
 " the reft : for there is nothing in the between but 
 u getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, 
 
 5 This was fo, ] I rather think Shakefiear wrote SOOTH, 
 
 i.e. a truth, a reality. 
 
 Y 3 " dealing,
 
 326 The W INTER'* TALE. 
 
 " dealing, fighting hark you now! would 
 
 " any but thefe boil'd brains of nineteen, and two 
 " and twenty, hunt this weather? They have fcar'd 
 " away two of my bed Iheep, which, I fear, the 
 " wolf will fooner find than the mailer ; if any where 
 " I have them, 'tis by the fea-fide, brouzing of ivy. 
 " Good luck, an't be thy will ! what have we here ? 
 " [faking up the child.~] Mercy on's, a bearne ! a very 
 " pretty bearne ! a boy, or a child, I wonder! a pret- 
 " ty one, a very pretty one; fare, fome 'fcape: tho* 
 " I am not bookifh, yet I can read waiting-gentlewo- 
 " man in the 'fcape. This has been fome flair- work, 
 " fome trunk-work, fome behind-door-work :" they 
 were warmer that got this, than the poor thing is here. 
 I'll take it up for pity, yet I'll tarry 'till my fon come : 
 he hollow'd but even now ; Whoa, ho-hoa ! 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Clo. Hilloa, loa! 
 
 Sbep. What, art fo near ? if thou'lt fee a thing to 
 talk on when thou art -dead and rotten, come hither. 
 What ail'fl thou, man ? 
 
 Clo. I have feen two fuch fights, by fea and by land ; 
 but I am not to fay, it is a fea ; for it is now the sky ; 
 betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thruft a bod- 
 kin's point. 
 
 Sbep. Why, boy, how is it ? 
 
 Clo. " I would, you did but fee how it chafes, how it 
 <c rages, how it takes up the more ; but that's not to 
 " the point; oh, the mod piteous cry of the poor 
 " fouls, fometimes to fee 'em, and not to fee 'em : 
 " now the fhip boring the moon with her main- mad, 
 " and anon fwallow'd with yed and froth, as you'd 
 " thrud a cork into a hogfhead. 6 And then for the 
 
 6 And then for the land -ferruice,"] Every one fees the humour 
 of this military expreffion of land-fervice ; and how well ic is 
 adapted to the character. Yet the Oxford Editor alters it to land- 
 f&t. 
 
 land
 
 The WINTER/ TALE. 327 
 
 cc Jand-fervice. to fee how the bear tore out his 
 " moulder-bone, how he cry'd to me for help, and 
 " faid, his name was Antigonus^ a nobleman. But to 
 " make an end of the fhip, to fee how the fea flap- 
 " dragon'd it. But firft, how the poor fouls roar'd, 
 " and the fea mock'd them. And how the poor gen- 
 " tleman roar'd, and the bear mock'd him j both 
 " roaring louder than the fea, or weather. 
 
 Shep. 'Name of mercy, when was this, boy ? 
 Clo. Now, now, I have not wink'd fince I faw thefe 
 fights -, the men are not yet cold under water, nor the 
 bear half din'd on the gentleman ; he's at it now. 
 
 Shep. 'Would, I had been by to have help'd the 
 old man. 
 
 9io. I would, you had been by the (hip-fide, to have 
 help'd her j there your charity would have lack'd foot- 
 ing , [Afide. 
 
 Shep. Heavy matters, heavy matters ! but look thee 
 here, boy. Now blefsthyfelf; thou meet'ft with things 
 dying, I with things new-born. Here's a fight for thee ; 
 look thee, a bearing-cloth for a fquire's child ! look thee 
 here ; take up, take up, boy, open't ; fo, let's fee : it 
 was told me, I mould be rich by the fairies. This is 
 fome changling : open't ; what's within, boy ? 
 
 Clo. You're a mad old man j if the fins of your 
 youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold ! 
 
 all gold ! 
 
 Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and will prove fo. 
 Up with it, keep it clofe : home, home, the next way. 
 We are lucky, boy ; and to be fo ftill, requires no- 
 thing but fecrefie. Let my fheep go : come, good 
 boy, the next way home. 
 
 Clo. Go you the next way with your findings, I'll 
 go fee if the Bear be gone from the gentleman ; and 
 how much he hath eaten : they are never curft but 
 when they are hungry : if there be any of him left, 
 I'll bury it. 
 
 Y 4 Shep.
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 Sbep. That's a good deed If thou may'fl difcern 
 by that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to 
 th' fight of him. 
 
 Clo. Marry, will I ; and you (hall help to put him 
 i'th* ground. 
 
 Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good 
 deeds on't. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Time, as Chorus. 
 
 Time. I, that pleafe fome, try all, both joy and 
 
 terror 
 
 Of good and bad, that make and unfold error ; 
 Now take upon me, in the name of Time y 
 To ufe my wings. Impute it not a crime 
 To me, or my fwift pafTage, that I Hide 4 
 
 O'er fixteen years, 7 and leave the gulf untry'd 
 Of that wide gap ; fince it is in my power 
 To overthrow law, and in one fell-born hour 
 To plant and o'erwhelm cuftom. Let me pafs 
 The fame I am, ere ancient'ft order was, 
 Or what is now receiv'd. I witnefs to 
 The times, that brought them in ; fo (hall I do 
 To th' frefheft things now reigning, and make flale 
 The gliflering of this prefent, as my tale 
 Now feems to it : your patience this allowing, 
 I turn my glafs ; and give my fcene fuch growing, 
 As you had flept between. Leonies leaving 
 Th' effects of his fond jealoufies, fo grieving 
 That he fhuts up himfelf ; imagine me, 
 Gentle fpectators, that I now may be 
 
 7 and leave the GROWTH untryd 
 
 Of that wide gap; ] 1 'he growth of what ? The reading 
 
 is nonienfe. Shzkefpear xvroie 
 
 and have the GULF untry'd, i. e. unwaded thro 1 . By 
 
 this means, too, the uniformity of the metaphor is reftored. Ail 
 
 the terms of the fentence, relating to a Gulf; as fivift paffage , 
 
 fitde ever untry'd ivide gap. 
 
 In
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 In fair Bohemia ; and remember well, 
 
 I mention here a fon o'th* King's whom Florizel 
 
 I now name to you j and with fpeed fo pace 
 
 To fpeak of Perdita^ now grown in grace 
 
 Equal with wondring. What of her enfues, 
 
 I lift not prophefie. But let Time's news 
 
 Be known, when 'tis brought forth. A fhepherd's 
 
 daughter, 
 
 And what to her adheres, which follows after, 
 Is th' argument of time ; of this allow, 
 If ever you have fpent time worfe ere now : 
 If never, yet that Time himfelf doth fay, 
 He wifhes earneftly, you never may. [Exit. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 The Court of Bohemia. 
 Enter Polixenes and Camillo. 
 
 POLIXENES. 
 
 I Pray thee, good Camilla, be no more importunate ; 
 'tis a ficknefs denying thee any thing, a death to 
 grant this. 
 
 Cam. It is fifteen years fince I faw my country ; 
 though I have for the moft part been aired abroad, I 
 defire to lay my bones there. Befides, the penitent 
 King, my mafter, hath fent for me ; to whofe feeling 
 forrows I might be fome allay, or I o'er ween to think 
 fo, which is another fpur to my departure. 
 
 Pol. As thou lov'ft me, Camillo, wipe not out the 
 reft of thy fervices by leaving me now ; the need I 
 have of thee, thine own goodnefs hath made : better 
 
 not
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 not to have had thee, than thus to want thee. Thou 
 having made me bufinefies, which none, without thee, 
 can fufficiently manage, muft either flay to execute 
 them thylelf, or takeaway with thee the very fervices 
 thou haft done ; which if I have not enough confi- 
 der'd, (as too much I cannot,) to be more thankful 
 to thee mall be my ftudy ; ' and my profit therein, 
 the reaping friendfhips. Of that fatal country Sicilia, 
 pr'ythee, fpeak no more ; whofe very naming pu- 
 nifhes me with the remembrance of that penitent, as 
 thou call*ft him, and reconciled King my brother, 
 whofe lofs of his mod precious Queen and children are 
 even now to be afrefh lamented. Say to me, when 
 faw'ft thou the Prince Florizel my fon ? Kings are no 
 lefs unhappy, their ifiue not being gracious, than they 
 are in lofing them, when they have approved their 
 virtues. 
 
 Cam. Sir, it is three days fince I faw the Prince ; 
 what his happier afTafrs may be, are to me unknown : 
 - but I have (miffing him) noted, he is of late much re- 
 tired from court, and is lefs frequent to his princely 
 exercifes than formerly he hath appcar'd. 
 
 Pol. I have confider'd fo much, Camillo^ and with 
 fome care fo far, that I have eyes under my fervice, 
 which look upon his removednefsj from whom I 
 
 1 and my profit therein, the HE kfiKG friendjblps.~\ This is non- 
 fenfe. We fhould read, REAPING friend/hips. 1 he King had 
 faid his ftudy ihould be to reward his friend's deferts ; and then 
 concludes, that his profit in this ftudy fhould be reaping the 
 fruits of his friend's attachment to him ; which refers to what he 
 had before faid of the neceffity of Camillas flay, or otherwife he 
 could not reap the fruit of thofe bufeneffes, which Camilla had 
 cut out. 
 
 2 but I have (MISSINGLY) noted,'] We fhould read, but I have 
 (MISSING HIM) noted. This accounts for the reafon of his 
 taking note, becaufehe often miffed him, that is, wanted his agreea- 
 ble company. For a compliment is intended ; and, in that fenfe, 
 ft is to be. undexftood. The Oxford Editor reads, tnufingly noted. 
 
 have
 
 The WINTER'.* TALE. 
 
 have this intelligence, that he is feldom from the houfe 
 of a moft homely mepherd ; a man, they fay, that 
 from very nothing, and beyond the imagination of 
 his neighbours, is grown into an unfpeakable eftate. 
 
 Cam. I have heard, Sir, of fuch a man, who hath 
 a daughter of moft rare note ; the report of her is ex- 
 tended more than can be thought to begin from fuch 
 a cottage. 
 
 Pol. That's likewife a part of my intelligence ; but, 
 I fear, the Angle that plucks our fon thither. Thou 
 fhalt accompany us to the place, where we will (not 
 appearing what we are) have fome queftion with the 
 fhepherd ; from whofe fimplicity, I think it not un- 
 cafie to get the caufe of my fon's refort thither. Pr'y- 
 thee, be my prefent partner in this bufinefs, and lay 
 afide the thoughts of Sicilia. 
 
 Cam. I willingly obey your command. 
 
 Pol. My beft Camillo we muft difguife ourfelves, 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to the Country. 
 
 Enter Autolicus finging. 
 
 WHEN daffadih begin to peere, 
 Wit^ heigh ! the doxy over the dale 9 
 I Why^ then come in the fweet o'th 9 year', 
 ''Fore the red blood reins-in the winter pale. 
 
 3 Why, then COMES in thefweet e? th" year ; 
 
 For the red blood REIGNS in the WINTER'S pale."] I think 
 this nonfenfe mould be read thus, 
 
 Why, then COME in the fiveet o 1 ^ year ; 
 
 'FORE the reel blood REINS-/ the winter pale. 
 L e. Why then come in, or let us enjoy, pleafure, while the feafon 
 ferves, before pale winter reins-in the red or youthful blood; as 
 much as to fay, let us enjoy life in youth, before old age comes 
 and freezes up the blood. 
 
 Jfc
 
 332 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 ?be white jheet bleaching on the hedge, 
 
 With, hey I thefweet birds., O bow theyfing! 
 Dotbfet my (a) frqgghtg tooth en edge: 
 
 For a quart of ale is a dijh for a king. 
 *helark^ that tirra-lyra chants, 
 
 With^ bey ! with, hey! the thrujh and the jay: 
 Are fummer fongs for me and my aunts, 
 
 While we lie tumbling in the hay. 
 
 I have ferved Prince Florizel, and in my time wore 
 three-pile, but now I am out of fervice. 
 
 Butjbail I go mourn for that, my dear ? 
 
 The pale moonjhir.es by night : 
 And when I wander here and there, 
 
 I then do go moft right. 
 Jf tinkers may have leave to live, 
 
 And bear the fow-skin budget ; 
 Then my account I well may give y 
 
 And in the flocks avouch it. 
 
 My traffick is fheets i when the kite builds, look to 
 leffer Jinnen. 4 My father nam'd me Autolicus^ 
 being litter'd under Mercury ; who, as I am, was Jike- 
 wife a fnapper-up of unconfider'd trifles : with die and 
 drab, I purchas'd this caparifon ; and s my revenue 
 
 is 
 
 4 My father narnd me Autolicus, &V,] Mr. Theobald fays, the 
 allujion is unqutfticnably to Ovid. He is miilaken. Not only the 
 allufion, but the whole fpeech is taken from Lueian ; who appears 
 to have been one of our Poet's favourite authors, as may be col- 
 lefted from feveral places of his works. It is from his difcourfe on 
 judicial dftroJogy, where dutolicus talks much in the fame manner; 
 and 'tis only on this account that he is called the fon of Mercury by 
 the ancients, namely becaufe he was born under that planet. And 
 as the infant was fuppofed by the Aftrologers to communicate of 
 the nature of the flar which predominated, fo Autohcui was a 
 thief. 
 
 5 my revenue is the filly cheat.] Silly is ufed by the writers of 
 our author's time, for fimple, low, mean ; and in this the humour 
 
 of 
 [ (a)progging Oxford Edition - Vulg. pugging ]
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 333 
 
 is the filly cheat. Gallows, and knock, are too power- 
 ful on the high- way ; beating and hanging are terrors 
 to me : for the life to come, I fleep out the thought 
 of it. A prize ! a prize ! 
 
 SCENE III. 
 Enter Clown. 
 
 Clo. Let me fee, - Every eleven weather tods, 
 every tod yields pound and odd milling ; fifteen hun- 
 dred morn, what comes the wool too ? 
 
 Aut. If the fprindge hold, the cock's mine. 
 
 Clo. I cannot do't without compters. Let me fee, 
 what am I to buy for our meep-mearing feaft, three 
 pound of fugar, five pound of" currants, rice 
 what will this fitter of mine do with rice ? but my father 
 hath made her miftrefs of the feaft, and me lays it on. 
 She hath made me four and twenty nofe-gays for the 
 fhearers ; three- man fong-men all, and very good 
 ones, but they are moil of them means and bafes ; but 
 one Puritan among them, and he fings pfalms to horn- 
 pipes. I muft have faffiron to colour the warden-pies, 
 mace - dates - none that's out of my note : 
 nutmegs, feven ; a race or two of ginger, but that I 
 may beg , four pound of prunes, and as many raifirfs 
 o' th' fun. 
 
 Aut. Oh, that ever I was born ! 
 
 [Groveling on the ground. 
 
 Clo. Pth* name of me - 
 
 Aut. Oh, help me, help me: pluck but off thefe 
 rags, and then death, death -- 
 
 of the fpeech confifts. I don't afpire to arduous and high things, 
 as bridewell or the gallows ; I am content with this humble and 
 low way of life, as a fnapper up cf uncorjidcr'cl trifles. But the 
 Oxford Editor, who, by his emendations, feems to have declared 
 war againlt all Shake/pear's humour, alters it Co, tbejly dial. 
 
 Clo.
 
 334 WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Clo. Alack, poor foul, thou haft need of more rags 
 to lay on thee, rather than have thefe off. 
 
 Aut. Oh, Sir, the loathfomnefs of them offends me, 
 more than the ftripes I have receiv'd, which are mighty 
 ones, and millions. 
 
 Clo. Alas, poor man ! a million of beating may 
 come to a great matter. 
 
 Aut. \ am robb'd, Sir, and beaten ; my mony and 
 apparel ta'en from me, and thefe deteftable things put 
 upon me. 
 
 Clo. What, by a horfe-man, or a footman ? 
 
 Aut. A footman, fweet Sir, a footman. 
 
 Clo. Indeed, he fhould be a foot-man, by the gar- 
 ments he hath left with thee ; if this be a horfe-man's 
 coat, it hath feen very hot fevice. Lend me thy hand, 
 1*11 help thee. Come, lend me thy hand. 
 
 [Helping him uf. 
 
 Aut. Oh ! good Sir, tenderly, oh ! 
 
 Clo. Alas, poor foul. 
 
 Aut. O good Sir, foftly, good Sir : I fear, Sir, my 
 fhoulder- blade is out. 
 
 Clo. How now? canftftand? 
 
 Aut. Softly, dear Sir; good Sir foftly; you ha* 
 done me a charitable office. 
 
 Clo. Doft lack any mony ? I have a little mony for 
 thee. 
 
 Aut. No, good fweet Sir ; no, I befeech you, Sir ; 
 I have a kinfman not paft three quarters of a mile 
 hence, unto whom I was going, I fhall there have 
 mony, or any thing I want : offer me no mony, I 
 pray you ; that kills my heart. 
 
 Clo. What manner of fellow was he that robb'd 
 you? 
 
 Aut. *' A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go 
 ' about 6 with trol-my-dames : I knew him once a 
 
 6 'with trolny-danei:] Trou-madame, French. The game of 
 cine-holes. 
 
 " fervant
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 335 
 
 " fervant of the prince , I cannot tell, good Sir, for 
 " which of his virtues ic was, but he was certainly 
 " whipp'd out of the court. 
 
 Clo. " His vices, you would fay; there's no virtue 
 " whipp'd out of the court ; they cherilh it to make 
 *' it (lay there, and yet it will no more but abide. 
 
 Ant. Vices I would fay, Sir. I know this man well, 
 " he hath been fince an ape- bearer, then a procefs- 
 46 ferver, a bailiff; then he compafs'd a 7 motion of 
 " the prodigal fon, and married a tinker's wife within 
 " a mile where my land and living lies ; and, having 
 " flown over many knavifh profeflions, he fettled 
 " only in a rogue ;" fome call him Autolicus. 
 
 Clo. Out upon him, prig! for my life, prig ; 
 he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings. 
 
 Aut. Very true, Sir; he, Sir, he; that's the rogue, 
 that put me into this apparel. 
 
 Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia -, 
 if you had but look'd big, and fpit at him, he'd have 
 run. 
 
 Aut. I muft confefs to you, Sir, I am no fighter ; 
 I am falfe of heart that way, and that he knew, I 
 warrant him. 
 
 Clo. How do you now ? 
 
 Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can 
 ftand, and walk ; I will even take my leave of you, 
 and pace foftly towards my kinfman's. 
 
 Clo. Shall I bring thee on thy way ? 
 
 Aut. No, good-fac'd Sir ; no, fweet Sir. 
 
 Clo. Then, farewel, I muft go to buy fpices for our 
 fheep-fhearing. [Exit. 
 
 Aut. Profper you, fweet Sir! Your purfe is not hot 
 enough to purchafe your fpice. I'll be with you at 
 your fheep-fhearing too: if I make not this cheat 
 
 7 motion of the prodigal fan,"] i. e. the Puppet-flew, then called 
 Motions. A term frequently occurring in our Author. 
 
 bring
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 bring out another, and the fhearers prove fheep, 8 let 
 me be unroll'd, and my name put into the book of 
 virtue ! 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, 
 
 And merrily bent the ftile- a. 
 A merry heart goes all the day, 
 
 Tour fad tires in a mile-a. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 The Profpetf of a Shepherd's Cotte. 
 
 Enter Florizel and Perdita. 
 
 Flo. *Tp H E S E your unufual weeds to each part of 
 JL you 
 
 Do give a life : no fhepherdefs, but Flora 
 Peering in April's front. This your flieep-fhearing 
 Is as a meeting of the petty gods, 
 And you the Queen on't. 
 
 Per. Sir, my gracious lord, 
 To chide at your extreams it not becomes me : 
 Oh pardon, that I name them : your high felf, 
 The gracious mark o'th* land, you have obfcur'd 
 With a fwain's wearing ; and me, poor lowly maid, 
 Moft goddefs-like prank'd up. But that our fcafts 
 In every mefs have folly, and the feeders 
 Digeft it with a cuftom, I mould blufh 
 To fee you fo attired ; 9 fworn, I think, 
 
 To 
 
 8 let me be unroll V, and my name put intt the book of virtue ! J 
 Begging gipfies, in the time of our author, were in gangs and com- 
 panies, that had fomething of the ftiew of an incorporated Body. 
 From this noble fociety he wifties he may be unrolled if he does 
 not fo and fo. 
 
 9 fvjorn, I think, 
 
 Tojhtw myfclf a gtafs.] i. e. one would think that in putting 
 on this habit of a fhepherd, you had fworn to pat me out of
 
 WINTER'^ TALE. 337 
 
 To mew myfdf a glafs. 
 
 Flo. I bids the time, 
 
 When my good falcon made her flight a-crofs 
 Thy father's ground. 
 
 Per. Now Jove afford you caufe ! 
 To me the difference forges dread, your greatnefs 
 Hath not been us'd to fear ; even now I tremble 
 To think, your father, by fome accident, 
 Should pafs this way, as you did : oh, the fates! 
 How would he look, to fee his work, fo noble, 
 Vildly bound up ! what would he fay ! or how 
 Should I in thefe my borrow'd flaunts behold 
 The flernnefs of his prefence ! 
 
 Flo. Apprehend 
 
 Nothing but jollity : the Gods themfelves, 
 Humbling their deities to love, have taken 
 The fhapes of beafls upon them. Jupiter 
 Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune 
 A ram, and bleated ; and the fire-rob'd God, 
 Golden Apollo^ a poor humble fwain, 
 As I feem now. Their transformations 
 Were never for a piece of beauty rarer, 
 Nor in a way fo chafle : fmce my defires 
 Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts 
 Burn hotter than my faith. 
 
 Per. O, but, dear Sir, 
 Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis 
 Oppos*d, as it muft be, by th' power o' th' King. 
 
 countenance ; for in this, as in a glafs, you {hew me how much be- 
 low yourfelf you muft defcend before you can get upon a level with 
 me. The fentiment is fine, and expreffes all the delicacy, as well 
 as humble modefly of the character. But the Oxford Editor alters 
 it to, 
 
 fiL-con, I think. 
 
 To flew my f elf a glafs. 
 
 What he means I don't know. But Ptrdita was not fo much give* 
 to /waning, as appears by her behaviour at the King's threats, when 
 the intrigue was difcovered. 
 
 VOL. in. 7. One 

 
 the WINTER'* T A L E. 
 
 One of thefe two muft be neceffities, 
 
 Which then will fpeak, that you muft change this 
 
 purpofe, 
 Or I my life. 
 
 Flo. Thou deareft Perdita, 
 
 With thefe forc'd thoughts, 1 pr'ythee, darken not 
 The mirth o'th' feaft ; or I'll be thine, my fair, 
 Or not my father's. For I cannot be 
 Mine own, nor any thing to any, if 
 I be not thine. To this I am moft conftant, 
 Tho' deftiny fay no. Be merry, (Gentle,) 
 Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing 
 That you behold the while. Your guefts are coming ; 
 Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day 
 Of celebration of that nuptial, which 
 We two have fworn mall come. 
 
 Per. O lady fortune, 
 Stand you aufpicious! 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Sbepberd, Clown, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants \ 
 with Folixenes and Camillo difguis'd. 
 
 Flo. See, your guefts approach ? 
 Addrefs yourfelf to entertain them fprightly, 
 And let's be red with mirth. 
 
 She. " Fie, daughter , when my old wife liv'd, upon 
 " This day me was both pantler, butler, cook, 
 " Both dame and fervant j welcom'd all, ferv'd all ; 
 <c Would fing her fong, and dance her turn ; nowhere 
 " At upper end o'th' table, now i'th' middle : 
 " On his moulder, and his ; her face o' fire 
 " With labour ; and the thing me took to quench it 
 " She would to each one Tip." You are retired, 
 As if you were a feafted one, and not 
 The hoftefs of the meeting : pray you, bid 
 
 Thefe
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 329 
 
 Thefe unknown friends to's welcome, for it is 
 A way to make us better friends, more known. 
 Come, quench your blufties, and prefent yourfelf 
 That which you are, miftrefs o'th' feaft. Come on, 
 And bid us welcome to your meep-ihearing, 
 As your good flock fhall profper. 
 
 Per. Sirs, welcome. [fo Pol. and Cam: 
 
 It is my father's will, I mould take on me 
 The hoftefsfhip o'th' day ; you're welcome, Sirs. 
 Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas Reverend Sirs, 
 * 6 For you there's rofemary and rue, thefe keep 
 *' Seeming and favour all the winter long: 
 * c Grace and remembrance be unto you both, 
 " And welcome to our fhearing ! 
 
 Pol. Shepherdefs, 
 
 (A fair one are you,) well you fit our ages 
 With flowers of winter. 
 
 Per. " Sir, the year growing ancient, 
 " Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth 
 " Of trembling winter, the faired flowers o'th* feafon 
 *' Are our carnations, and ftreak'd gilly- flowers, 
 *' Which fpme call nature's baftards: of that kind 
 " Our ruftick garden's barren, and I care not 
 " To get flips of them. 
 
 Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, 
 Do you neglect them ? 
 
 Per. " For I have heard it faid, 
 " There is an art, which in their piedenefs flmres 
 *' With great creating nature. 
 
 Pol. Say, there be ; 
 
 " Yet nature is made better by no mean, 
 * 6 But nature makes that mean ; fo over that art, 
 " Which, you fay, adds to nature, is an art 
 * c That nature makes -, you fee, fweet maid, we marry 
 " A gentle fcyon to the wildeft flock ; 
 <c And make conceive a bark of bafer kind 
 " By bud of nobler race. This is an art, 
 
 Z 2. "Which
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 " Which does mend nature, change it rather ; but 
 " The art itfelf is nature. 
 
 Per. So it is. 
 
 Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowcrs, 
 And do not call them baftards. 
 
 Per. " I'll not put 
 
 " The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them : 
 " No more than, were I painted, I would wifh 
 " This youth mould fay, 'twere well 5 and only there- 
 
 " fore 
 
 * Defire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you ; 
 " Hot lavender, mints, favoury, marjoram, 
 " The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun, 
 " And with him rifes, weeping : thefe are flowers 
 " Of middle fummer, and I think, they are given 
 " To men of middle age." Y'are very welcome 
 
 Cam. I mould leave grazing, were I of your flock, 
 And only live by gazing. 
 
 Per. " Out, alas ! 
 
 " You'd be fo lean, that blafts of January 
 " Would blow you through and through. Now, my 
 
 faireft friend, 
 
 s< I would, I had fome flowers o'th* fpring, that might 
 " Become your time of day ; and yours, and yours, 
 " That wear upon your virgin-branches yet 
 " Your maiden-heads growing : O Proferpina, 
 " For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'ft fall 
 " From Dis's waggon ! daffadils, 
 " That come before the fwallow dares, and take 
 " The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, 
 " But fweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, 
 '* Or Cytberea's breath ; pale primrofes, 
 " That die unmarried, ere they can behold 
 <c Bright Pbeebus in his ftrength i (a malady 
 " Moft incident to maids -,) (a) gold oxlips, and 
 
 [ (a) gold, Oxford Editor Vulg. bold. ] 
 
 The
 
 The WINTER^ TALE. 34.1 
 
 " The crown- imperial ; lillies of all kinds, 
 " The fiower-de-lis being one. O thefe, I lack 
 ' To make you garlands of, and, my fweet friend, 
 *' To ftrow him o'er and o'er. 
 
 Flo. What? likeacoarfe? 
 
 Per. No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on ; 
 Not like a coarfe ; or if, not to be buried 
 But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers > 
 Methinks, I play as I have feen them do 
 In whitfon paftorals : fure, this robe of mine 
 Does change my difpofition. 
 
 Flo. What you do, 
 
 Still betters what is done. When you fpeak, (fweet) 
 I'd have you do it ever; when you fing, 
 I'd have you buy and fell fo ; fo, give alms ; 
 Pray, fo ; and for the ord'ring your affairs, 
 To fing them too. When you do dance, I wifli you 
 A wave o'th' fea, that you might ever do 
 Nothing but that move (till, flill fo, 
 And own no other function. Each your doing, 
 So fmgular in each particular, 
 Crowns what you're doing in the prefent deeds, 
 That all your ads are Queens. 
 
 Per. O Doricles, 
 
 Your praifes are too large ; but that your youth, 
 And the true blood, which peeps forth fairly through if, 
 Do plainly give you out an unftain'd mepherd j 
 With wifdom I might fear, my Doricks^ 
 You woo'd me the falfe way. 
 
 Flo. * I think, you have 
 As little skill to fear, as I have purpofe 
 
 i I think , you have 
 
 As little skill to fear ] To have skill to do a thing was a 
 
 phrafe then in ufe equivalent to our to have reafon to da a thing. 
 The Oxford Editor, ignorant of this, alters it to, 
 
 As little skill in fear, 
 
 which has no kind of ienie in this place. 
 
 Z 3 To
 
 342 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 To put you to't. But, come -, our dance, I pray j 
 Your hand, my Penlita, ; fo turtles pair, 
 That never mean to part. 
 
 Per. I'll fwear for J em. 
 
 Pol. " This is the prettied low-born lals, that ever 
 " Ran on the green- ford ; nothing fhe does, orfeems, 
 But fmacks of Ibmething greater than her felf, 
 Too noble for this place. 
 
 Cam. He tells her fomething, 
 That makes her blood look (a) out : good footh, 
 
 fhe is 
 The Queen of curds and cream: 
 
 Clo. Come on, ftrike up. 
 
 Dor. Moffa muft be yourmiftrefs ; marry, garlick 
 to mend her kifiing with 
 
 Mop. Now, in good time! 
 
 Clo. Not a word, a word ; we ftand upon our man- 
 ners i come, ftrike up. 
 
 Hers a dance of Shepherds and ShepherdeJJes. 
 
 Pol Pray, good fhepherd, what fair fwain is this 
 Who dances with your daughter ? 
 
 Shep. They call him Doricles, and he boafts himfelf 
 To have * a worthy breeding ; but I have it 
 Upon his own report, and I believe it : 
 He looks like footh ; he fays, he loves my daughter, 
 I think fo too ; for never gaz'd the moon 
 Upon the water, as he'll ftand and read 
 As 'twere my daughters eyes ; and, to be plain, 
 I think, there is not half a kifs to chufe 
 Who loves another belt. 
 
 Pol. She dances featly. 
 
 Shep. She does any thing, tho' I report it 
 That fhould be filent ; if young Doricles 
 
 Z aivort&y FEEDING j] certainly BREEDING. 
 [ (a} out. Mr. Theobald Vulg. on"t ] 
 
 Do
 
 Me WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 Do light upon her, me mall bring him That 
 Which he not dreams of. 
 
 S C E N E VI. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Ser. O mafter, if you did but hear the pedler a: 
 the door, you would never dance again after a tabor 
 and pipe : no, the bag-pipe could not move you 5 he 
 fmgs feveral tunes, fafter than you'll tell mony ; he 
 utters them as he had eaten ballads, and all mens* ears 
 grew to his tunes. 
 
 Clo. He could never come better , he (hall come 
 in j I love a ballad but even too well, if it be dole- 
 ful matter merrily fet down ; or a very pleafant thing 
 indeed, and fung lamentably. 
 
 Ser. He hath fongs for man, or woman, of all fizes ; 
 no milliner can fo fit his cuftomers with gloves: he 
 has the prettied love-fongs for maids, fo without 
 bawdry, (which is flrange) with fuch delicate burthens 
 of dil-do's and fa-ding's: jump her and thump her: 
 and where fome ftretch-mouth'd rafcal would, as it 
 were, mean mifchief, and break a foul gap into the 
 matter, he makes the maid to anfwer, Whoop* do me 
 no har-m^ good man ; puts him off, flights him, with 
 Whoop) do me no barm, good man. 
 
 Pol. This is a brave fellow. 
 
 do. Believe me, thou talkeft of an admirable-con- 
 ceited fellow ; has he any unbraided wares ? 
 
 Ser. He hath ribbons of all the colours i'th' rainbow ; 
 points, more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learn- 
 edly handle, though they come to him by the grofs ; 
 inkles, caddifles, cambricks, lawns ; why, he fings 
 them over, as they were Gods and Goddefles ; you 
 would think a fmock were a fhe-angel, he fo chants to 
 the (a) fleeve-band and the work about the fquare on't. 
 [ (a) Jleeve-band. Oxford Editor V u\g. Jleevt-band. ] 
 
 Z 4
 
 344 fb* WINTER'J TALE. 
 
 C!o. Pr'ythee, bring him in ; and let him approach, 
 Tinging. 
 
 Per. Forewarn him, that he ufe no fcurrilous words 
 in's tunes. 
 
 C7<?. You have of thefe pedlers that have more in 
 'em than you'd think, fitter. 
 
 Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think. 
 
 Enter Autolicus finding. 
 
 Lawn as white, as driven fnow 
 
 Cyprus black as e*er was crow ; 
 
 Gloves as fweet as damask rofes, 
 
 Masks for faces and for nofes \ 
 
 Bugle bracelets, neck-lace amber, 
 
 Perfume for a lady's chamber : 
 
 Golden quoifs, and ftomachers, 
 
 For my lads to give their dears : 
 
 Pins, and poahing-Jlicks of fteel, 
 
 What maids lack from head to heel : 
 
 Come buy of me, come : come buy, come luy^ 
 
 Buy, lads, or elfe your laffes cry. 
 
 Come buy, &c. 
 
 Ch. If I were not in love with Mopfa, thou fhould'ft: 
 take no mony of me; but being enthrall'd as I am, 
 it will alfo be the bondage of certain ribbons and 
 gloves. 
 
 Mop. I was prornis'd them againft the feaft, but 
 they come not too late now. 
 
 Dor. He hath promiVd you more than that, or 
 there be liars. 
 
 Mop. He hath paid you all he promised you : 'may 
 be, he has paid you more ; which will fhame you to 
 give him again. 
 
 Clo. Is there no manners left among maids? will 
 they wear their plackets, where they mould wear their 
 
 faces ?
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 faces ? is there not milking- time, when you are going 
 to bed, or kill-hole, to whittle ofthefefecrets, but you 
 muft be tittle-tattling before all our guefts ? 'tis well, 
 they are whifpring : 3 clamour your tongues, and not 
 a word more. 
 
 Mop. I have done : come, you promis'd me a taw- 
 dry lace, and a pair of fweet gloves. 
 
 Cio. Have I not told thee how I was cozen'd by the 
 way, and loft all my mony ? 
 
 Aut. And, indeed, Sir, there are cozeners abroad, 
 therefore it behoves men to be wary. 
 
 Go. Fear not thou, man, thou (halt lofe nothing 
 here. 
 
 Aut. I hope fo, Sir, for I have about me many 
 parcels of charge. 
 
 do. What haft here ? ballads ? 
 
 Mop. Pray now, buy fome ; I love a ballad in 
 print, or a life ; for then we are fure they are true. 
 
 Aut. Here's one to a very doleful tune, howaufurer's 
 wife was brought to bed with twenty mony bags at a 
 burthen ; and how fhe long'd to eat adders' heads, and 
 toads carbonado J d. 
 
 Mop. Is it true, think you ? 
 
 Aut. Very true, and but a month old. 
 
 Dor. Blefs me from marrying a ufurer \ 
 
 Aut. Here's the widwife's name to*t, one miftrefs 
 Tale-porter, and five or fix honeft wives that were 
 prefent. Why fhould I carry lies abroad ? 
 
 Mop. Pray you now, buy it. 
 
 Clo. Come on, lay it by ; and let's firft fee more 
 ballads; we'll buy the other things anon. 
 
 Aut. Here's another ballad, of a fifh that appear'd 
 upon the coaft, on Wednesday the fourfcore of April, 
 
 3 Clamour your tongues,] The phrafe is taken from ringing. 
 When bells are at the height, in order to ceafe them, the repeti- 
 tion of the ftrokes becomes much quicker than before ; this is 
 called clamounng them. The allufion is humourous. 
 
 forty
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 forty thoufand fadom above water, and fung this bal- 
 i id againft the hard hearts of maids ; it was thought, 
 Ihe was a woman, and was turn'd into a cold fifh, for 
 fhe would not exchange flefh with one that iov'd her: 
 the ballad is very pitiful, and as true. 
 
 Dor. Is it true too, think you? 
 
 Aut. Five juftices hands at it ; and witneflcs more 
 than my pack will hold. 
 
 Clo. Lay it by too: another." 
 
 Aut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one. 
 
 Mop. Let*s have fome merry ones. 
 
 Aut. Why, this is a paffing merry one, and goes to 
 the tune of Two maids wooing a man ; there's fcarce a 
 maid weftward, but Ihe fings it : 'tis in requeft, I can 
 tell you. 
 
 Mop. We can both fing it ; if thou'lt bear a part 3 
 thou malt hear, 'tis in three parts. 
 
 Dor. We had the tune on't a month ago. 
 
 Aut. I can bear my part ; you muft know, 'tis my 
 occupation : have at it with you. 
 
 Aut. Get you hence, for I muft go^ 
 Where it fits not you to know. 
 
 Dor. Whither? 
 
 Mop. O whither? 
 
 Dor. Whither? 
 
 Mop. // becomes thy oath full well, 
 Thou to me thy fecrets tell. 
 
 Dor. Me too, let me go thither : 
 
 Mop. Or thou goeft to the grange^ or mil\ 
 
 Dor. If to either thou dojt ill : 
 
 Aut. Neither. 
 
 Dor. What neither ? 
 
 Aut. Neither. 
 
 Dor. Thou haftfworn my love to be ; 
 
 Mop. Thou haftjworn it more to me: 
 
 Then whither gocjl ? fay, whither ? 
 
 Ck,
 
 Me WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Clo. We'll have this fong out anon by ourfelves : 
 my father and the gentlemen are in fad talk, and 
 we*ll not trouble them : come, bring away thy pack 
 after me. Wenches, I'll buy for you both: Pedler, 
 let's have the firft choice : follow me, girls. 
 
 Aut* And you mail pay well for 'em. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Will you buy any tape, or lace for your cape, 
 
 My dainty duck^ my dear-a ? 
 And filk^ and thread^ any toys for your head. 
 
 Of the nevffti andfn% fitt'Jt wear-a ? 
 Come to the Pedler ; mony's a medler, 
 
 lhat doth utter all mem ware-a. 
 
 [Exe. Clown, Autolicus, Dorcas, and Mopfa. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Enter a, Servant. 
 
 Ser. Mailer, there are three carters, three fhep- 
 herds, three neat-herds, and three fwine-herds, that 
 have made themfelves 4 all men of hair, they callthem- 
 fel ves Saltiers : and they have a dance, which the wenches 
 fay is a gallymaufry of gambols, becaufe they are not 
 in't : but they themfelves are o'th* mind, (if it be not 
 too rough for fome, that know little but bowling,) it 
 will pleafe plentifully. 
 
 Sbep. Away ! we'll none on't ; here has been too much 
 homely foolery already. I know, Sir, we weary you.- 
 
 Pol. You weary thofe, that refrelh us : 'pray, let's 
 fee thefe four-threes of herdfmen. 
 
 Ser. One three of them, by their own report, Sir, 
 hath danc'd before the King , and not the worft of the 
 three but jumps twelve foot and a half by th' fquare. 
 
 4 all men of hair,] i. e. nimble, that leap as if they rebounded: 
 Thp phrafe is taken from tennis-balls, which were fluffed with hair. 
 So in Henry V. it is faid of a courfer, 
 
 He founds as if bit tntrailt <wtrt kairtt
 
 The WINTER^ TALE. 
 
 Sbep. Leave your prating; fince thefe good men arc 
 pkas'd, let them come in ; but quickly now. 
 
 Here a Dance of twelve Satyrs. 
 
 5 Pol. O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter. 
 Is it not too far gone ? 'tis time to part them ; 
 
 He's fim pie, and tells much. How now, fair 
 
 fhepherd ? 
 
 Your heart is full of fomething, that doth take 
 Your mind from feafting. Sooth, when I was young, 
 And handed love, as you do, I was wont 
 To load my (he with knacks : I would have ranfack'd 
 The pedler's filken treafury, and have pour'd it 
 To her acceptance ; you have let him go, 
 And nothing marted with him. If your Jafs 
 Interpretation fhould abufe, and call this 
 Your lack of love or bounty ; you were ftraited 
 For a reply, at lead, if you make care 
 Of happy holding her. 
 
 Flo. Old Sir, I know, 
 She prizes not fuch trifles as thefe are ; 
 The gifts, me looks from me, are packt and Jockt 
 Up in my heart, which I have given already, 
 But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my love 
 Before this ancient Sir, who, it mould feem, 
 Hath fometime lov'd. I take thy hand, this hand, 
 As foft as dove's down, and as white as it, 
 Or Ethiopian's tooth, " or the fann'd fnow 
 " That's bolted by the northern blaft twice o'er. 
 
 Pol. What follows this ? 
 How prettily the young fwain teems to wafh 
 The hand, was fair before ! I've put you out ; 
 But, to your proteftation : let me hear 
 
 5 Pol. O, father, you'!/ know more of that hereafter."] This is 
 replied by the King in anfwer to the fhepherd's faying, fince tbtfe 
 good men are pleafed. Yet the Oxford Editor, I can't tell why, gives 
 this line to F/orizet, fince Florixel and the old man were not in 
 convcrfation. 
 
 What
 
 ttc WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 What you profefe. 
 
 Flo. Do, and be witnefs to't. 
 
 Pol. And this my neighbour too ? 
 
 Flo. And he, and more 
 
 Than he, and men ; the earth, and heav'ns, and all ; 
 That were I crown'd the mod imperial monarch 
 Thereof mod worthy, were I the faireft youth 
 That ever made eye fwerve, had force and knowledge 
 More than was ever man's, I would not prize them 
 Without her love ; for her imploy them all ; 
 Commend them, and condemn them, to her fervice, 
 Or to their own perdition. 
 
 Pol. Fairly offer'd. 
 
 Cam. This mews a found affection. 
 
 Sbep. But, my daughter, 
 Say you the like to him ? 
 
 Per. I cannot fpeak 
 
 So well, nothing fo well, no, nor mean better. 
 By th* pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out 
 The purity of his. 
 
 Sbep. Take hands, a bargain ; 
 And, friends unknown, you mall bear witnefs to't: 
 I give my daughter to him, and will make 
 Her portion equal his. 
 
 Flo. O, that muft be 
 
 I'th' virtue of your daughter ; one being dead, 
 I fhall have more than you can dream of yet, 
 Enough then for your wonder : but come on, 
 Contract us 'fore thefe witnefles. 
 
 Sbep. Come, your hand, 
 And, daughter, yours. 
 
 Pol. Soft, fwain, a-while*, 'befeech you, 
 Have you a father ? 
 
 Flo. I have ; but what of him ? 
 
 Pol. Knows he of this ? 
 
 Flo. He neither does, nor mall. 
 
 Pol. Methinks a father 
 
 Is,
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Is, at the nuptial of his fon, a gueft 
 
 That beft becomes the table : 'pray you once more, 
 
 Is not your father grown incapable 
 
 Of reafonable affairs ? is he not ftupid 
 
 With age, and ah'ring rheums ? can he fpeak ? hear ? 
 
 Know man from man ? difpute his own eftate ? 
 
 Lies he not bed-rid ? and, again, does nothing, 
 
 But what he did being childifh ? 
 
 Flo. No, good Sir > 
 
 He has his health, and ampler ftrength, indeed, 
 Than moft have of his age. 
 
 Pol. By my white beard, 
 You offer him, if this be fo, a wrong 
 Something unfilial: Reafon, my fon 
 Should chufe himfelf a wife; but as good reafon, 
 The father (all whofe joy is nothing elfe 
 But fair pofterity) fhould hold fome counfel 
 In fuch a bufmefs. 
 
 Flo. I yield all this ; 
 
 But for fome other reafons, my grave Sir, 
 Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint 
 My father of this bufinefs. 
 
 Pol. Let him know't. 
 
 Flo. He mall not. 
 
 Pol. Pry'thee, let him. 
 
 Flo. No ; he muft not. 
 
 Sbep. Let him, my fon, he fhall not need to grieve 
 At knowing of thy choice. 
 
 Flo. Come, come, he muft not : 
 Mark our contract. 
 
 Pol. Mark your divorce, young Sir, 
 
 [Difcowring himfelf. 
 
 Whom fon I dare not call: thou art too bafe 
 To be acknowledg'd. Thou a fcepter's heir, 
 That thus affecVft a fheep-hook! Thou old traytor, 
 I'm forry, that, by hanging thee, I can but 
 Shorten thy life one week. And thou frelh piece 
 
 Of
 
 W i N T E R'J T A L E. 351 
 
 Of excellent witchcraft, who of force muft know 
 The royal fool thou coap'ft with 
 
 Sbep. O my heart! 
 
 Pol. I'll have thy beauty fcratch'd with briars, and 
 
 made 
 
 More homely than thy (late. For thee, fond boy, 
 If I may ever know thou doft but figh 
 That thou no more malt fee this knack, as never 
 I mean thou malt, we'll bar thee from fucceffion ; 
 Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, 
 Far* than Deucalion off: mark thou my words ; 
 Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time, 
 Tho' full of our difpleafure, yet we free thee 
 From the dead blow of it : and you, enchantment, 
 Worthy enough a herdfman ; yea him too, 
 That makes himfelf, but for our honour therein, 
 Unworthy thee; if ever, henceforth, thou 
 Thefe rural latches to his entrance open, 
 Or hoope his body more with thy embraces, 
 I will devife a death as cruel for thee, 
 As thou art tender to it. [Exit*. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 Per. Even here undone : 
 " 6 I was not much afraid ; for once or twice 
 " I was about to fpeak, and tell him plainly, 
 " The felf-fame fun, that mines upon his court, 
 " Hides not his vifage from our cottage, but 
 " Looks on alike. Wilt pleafe you, Sir, be gone? 
 
 [To Florizel. 
 
 I told you, what would come of this. 'Befeech you, 
 Of your own ftate take care : this dream of mine, 
 
 6 7 ivat not much afraid; &c.] The Chara&er is here finely fuf- 
 tained. To have made her quite aftonimed on the king's difco- 
 very of himfelf, had not become her birth ; and to have given her 
 prefence of mind to have made this reply to the King, had not 
 become her education. 
 
 " Being
 
 352 The WINTER*/ TALE. 
 
 " Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther, 
 " But milk my ewes, and weep." 
 
 Cam. Why, how now, father? 
 Speak, ere thou dieft. 
 
 Shep. I cannot fpeak, nor think, 
 Nor dare to know That which I know. O Sir, 
 
 [To FlorizeL 
 
 * c 7 You have undone a man of fourfcore three, 
 " That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea, 
 " To die upon the bed my father dy'd, 
 " To lye clofe by his honefl bones ; but now 
 *' Some hangman muft put on my fhrowd, and lay me 
 " Where no prieft fhovels in duft. O curfed wretch ! 
 
 p* Perdita. 
 
 That knew'ft, This was the Prince ; and would'ft ad- 
 venture 
 
 To mingle faith with him. Undone, undone! 
 If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd 
 To die when I defire. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Flo. Why look you fo upon me? 
 I am but forry, not afraid ; delay'd, 
 But nothing alter'd : what I was, I am ; 
 More draining on, for plucking back ; not following 
 My leafh unwillingly. 
 
 Cam. Gracious my Lord, 
 You know your father's temper: at this time 
 He will allow no fpeech, (which I do guefs, 
 You do not purpofe to him ;) and as hardly 
 Will he endure your fight, as yet I fear; 
 
 7 Tbu ba<ve undone a man of fourfcore three. &c.] Thefe fenti- 
 ments, which the Poet has heightened by a ilrain of ridicule that 
 runs thro' them, admirably characterize the fpeiker ; whofe fel- 
 fifnnefs is Teen in concealing the adventure of Perdita; and here 
 fupported, by (hewing no regard for his fon or her, but being taken 
 up entirely with himlelf, though fourfcore three. 
 
 Then,
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Then, 'till the fury of his Highnefs fettle, 
 Come not before him. 
 
 Flo. I not purpofe it. 
 I think, Camilla 
 
 Cam. Even he, my Lord. 
 
 Per. How often have I told you, 'twould be thus? 
 How often faid, my dignity would Jaft 
 But 'till 'twere known ? 
 
 Flo. It cannot fail, but by 
 The violation of my faith, and then 
 Let nature crufh the. fides o'th* earth together, 
 
 And mar the feeds within! Lift up thy looks! ' 
 
 From my fucceffion wipe me, father, I 
 Am heir to my affection. 
 
 Cam. Be advis'd. 
 
 Flo. I am ; and by my fancy ; if my reafon 
 Will thereto be obedient, I have reafon ; 
 If not, my fenfes, better pleas'd with madnefs, 
 Do bid it welcome. 
 
 Cam. This is defperate, Sir. 
 
 Flo. So call it ; but it does fulfil my vow j 
 I needs muft think it honefty. Camillo^ 
 Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may 
 Be thereat glean'd ; for all the fun fees, or 
 The clofe earth wombs, or the profound feas hids 
 In unknown fadoms, will I break my oath 
 To this my fair belov'd : therefore, I pray you, 
 As you have ever been my father's friend, 
 When he mall mifs me, (as, in faith, I mean not 
 To fee him any more) caft your good counfels 
 Upon his pafiion i let myfclf and fortune 
 Tug for the time to come. This you may know, 
 And fo deliver, I am put to fea 
 With her, whom here I cannot hold on more ; 
 And, moft opportune to our need, I have 
 A veffel rides fa ft by, but not prepared 
 For this defign. What courfc I mean to hold 
 
 Yej,. III. . A a Shall
 
 354 WINTER** TALE. 
 
 Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor 
 Concern me the reporting. 
 
 Cam. O my lord, 
 
 I would your fpirit were eafier for advice, 
 pr ftronger for your need. 
 
 Flo. Hark, Perdita . 
 
 I'll hear you by and by. [To Cam, 
 
 Cam. He's irremoveable, 
 Refolv'd for flight : now were I happy, if 
 His going I could frame to ferve my turn ; 
 ,Save him from danger, do him love and honour ; 
 Purchafe the fight again of dear Sicitia 9 
 And that unhappy king, my matter, whom 
 I fo much third to fee. \_Afide, 
 
 Flo. Now, good Camilla ; 
 I am fo fraught with curious bufinefs, that 
 I leave out ceremony. 
 
 Cam. Sir, I think, 
 
 You have heard of my poor fervices, i'th* love 
 That I have borne your father ? 
 
 Flo. Very nobly 
 
 Have you. defer v'd : it is my father's mufick 
 To fpeak your deeds, not little of his care 
 To~have them recompens'd, as thought on. 
 
 Cam Well, my lord, 
 
 If yea may pleafe to think I love the King, 
 And through him, what's neareft to him, which is 
 Your gracious felf, embrace but my direction ; 
 (If your more ponderous and fettled project 
 May fuffer alteration,) on mine honour, 
 Fll point you where you mall have fuch receiving 
 As mall become your highnels, where you may 
 Enjoy your miftrefs j from the whom, I fee, 
 There's no disjunction to be made, but by 
 (As, heav'ns forefend !) your ruin. Marry her, 
 And with my beft endeavours, in your abfence, 
 Your difcontented father I'll ftrive to qualine, 
 
 And
 
 The WINTER'/ TAIE* 
 
 And bring him up to liking. 
 
 Flo. How, Camilla* 
 May this, almoft a miracle, be done? 
 That I may call thee fomething more than man, 
 And after That truft to thee ? 
 
 Cam. Have you thought on 
 A place whereto you'll go ? 
 
 Flo. Not any yet : 
 
 But as th'unthought-on accident is guilty 
 Of what we wildly do, fo we profefs 
 Ourfelves to be the flaves of chance, and flies 
 Of every wind that blows. 
 
 Cam. Then lilt to me: 
 
 This follows, if you will not change your purpofe, 
 Bat undergo this flight, make for Stcilia; 
 And there prefent yourfelf, and your fair Princefs 
 (For fo, I fee, fhe muft be) 'fore Leontes j 
 She fhall be habited, as it becomes 
 The partner of your bed. Methinks, I fee 
 Leontes opening his free arms, and weeping 
 His welcomes forth -, asks thee, the fon, forgivenels, 
 As 'twere i'th' father's perfon ; kifles the hands 
 Of your frefti Princefs ; o*er and o'er divides him, 
 *Twixt his unkindnefs, and his kindnefs : th' o.ie 
 He chides to hell, and bids the other grow 
 Fafter than thought or time. 
 
 Flo. Worthy Camillo, 
 What colour for my vifitation fhall 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, fhall deliver, 
 Things known betwixt us three, I'll write you down ; 
 8 The which (hall point you forth at every fitting, 
 
 What 
 
 8 The which Jka!l paint you forth at every fitting,] Every Jilting, 
 
 fays Mr. Theobald, methinki, gives us but a very poor idea. But a poor 
 
 A a 2 idea
 
 WINTER'S TALE, 
 
 What you muft fay ; that he (hall not perceive, 
 But that you have your father's bofom there, 
 And fpeak his very heart. 
 
 Flo. I am bound to you: 
 There is feme fap in this. 
 
 Cam. A courfe more promifing 
 Than a wild dedication of your felves 
 To unpath'd waters, undream'd ftiores i moft certain, 
 To miferies enough : no hope to help you, 
 But as you fhake off one, to take another : 
 Nothing fo certain as your anchors, who 
 Do their bed office, if they can but ftay you 
 Where you'll be loth to be: befides, you know, 
 Profperity's the very bond of love, 
 Whofe frefli complexion and whofe heart together 
 Affliction alters. 
 
 Per. One of thefe is true : 
 I think, affliction may fubdue the cheek, 
 But not take in the mind. 
 
 Cam. Yea, fay you fo? 
 .There fliall not at your father's houfe, thefe feven 
 
 years, 
 Be born another fuch. 
 
 Flo. My good Camilla, 
 She is as forward of her Breeding, as 
 She is i'th' rear o* our birth. 
 
 Cam. I cannot fay, 'tis Pity 
 She lacks inftructions, forfhe feems a miftrefs 
 To moft that teach. 
 
 Per. Your pardon, Sir, for this: 
 I'll blufh you thanks. 
 
 idea is better than none ; which it comes to, when )<e has alter'd it 
 to every fating. The truth is, the common reading is very ex- 
 preffive ; and means, at every audience you fhall have of the King 
 and Council. The Council-days being, in our author's time cal- 
 led, in common fpeech, the Sittings. 
 
 Flo.
 
 The WINTER/ TALE. 
 
 Flo. My prettieft Perdita- . 
 
 But, oh, the thorns we ftand upon ! Camillo, 
 Preferver of my father, now of me ; 
 The medicine of our Houfe! how {hall we do? 
 We are not furnifh'd like Bohemia's fon, 
 Nor mall appear in Sicily 
 
 Cam. My lord, 
 
 Fear none of this : I think, you know, my fortunes 
 Do all lye there : it mall be fo my care 
 To have you royally appointed, as if 
 The Scene, you play, were mine. For inftance, Sir, 
 That you may know you (hall not want; one word. 
 
 [They talk afide. 
 
 SCENE X. 
 Enter Autolicus. 
 
 Aut. Ha, ha, what a fool Honefty is ! and Truft, 
 his fworn brother, a very fimple gentleman ! I have 
 fold all my trumpery ; not a counterfeit ftone, not a 
 ribbon, glafs, pomander, browch, table-book, ballad, 
 knife, tape, glove, fhoe-tye, bracelet, horn-ring to 
 keep my Pack from falling : they throng who mould 
 buy firft, as if my trinkets had been hallowed, and 
 brought a benediction to the buver ; by which means, 
 J faw whofe purfe was bed in picture; and what I 
 faw, to my good ufe, I remember*d. My good 
 Clown (who wants but (bmething to be a reafonablc 
 man) grew fo in love with the wenches fong, that he 
 would not ftir his pettitoes 'till he had both tune and 
 words ; which fo drew the reft of the herd to me, that 
 all their other fenfes (luck in ears ; you might have 
 pinch'd a placket, it was fenfelcfs ; 'twas nothing to 
 geld a codpiece of a purfe; I would have filed keys 
 off, that hung in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but 
 my Sir's fong, and admiring the nothing or" it. So 
 that in this time of lethargy, I pick'd and cut moft 
 A a 3 of
 
 358 Tfe WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 of their feftival purfes: and had not the old man come 
 in with a whoo-bub againft his daughter and the 
 King's fon, and fcar'd my choughs from the chaff, 
 I had not left a purfe alive in the whole army. 
 
 [Camillo, Flor. and Perd. come forward. 
 
 Cam. Nay ; but my letters by this means being 
 
 there, 
 So foon as you arrive, mail clear that Doubt. 
 
 Flor. And thofe that you'Ji procure from King Le- 
 ontes. 
 
 Cam. Shall fatisfie your father. 
 
 Per. Happy be you! 
 All that you fpeak mews fair. 
 
 Cam. Who have we here? [Seeing Autoi. 
 
 We'll make an inftrument of this ; omic 
 Nothing may give us aid. 
 
 Aut. If they have over- heard me now: why, hanging. 
 
 [Jfidc. 
 
 Cam. How now, good fellow, 
 Why ihak'ft thou fo ? fear not, man, 
 Here's no harm intended to thee. 
 
 Ant. I am a poor fellow, Sir. 
 
 Cam. Why, be fo ftill ; here's no bodv will (leal 
 That from thee ; yet for the outfide of thy poverty, 
 we muft make an exchange , therefore difcafe thee in- 
 ftantly : (thou muft think, there's necefihy in't) and 
 change garments with this gentleman : tho' the penny- 
 worth, on his fide, be the word, yet hold thee, there's 
 fbme boot. 
 
 Aut. I am a poor fellow, Sir; (I know ye well 
 enough.) 
 
 Cam. Nay, pr'ythee, difpatch : the gentleman is 
 half Mead already. 
 
 Aut. Are you in earned, Sir? (I fmei! the trick 
 on't.) 
 
 Flo. Difpatch, I pr'ythee, 
 
 Aut.
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 359 
 
 Aut. Indeed, 1 have had Earned, but I cannot with 
 conference take it. 
 
 Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle. 
 Fortunate Miftrefs ! (let my Prophecy 
 Come home to ye,) you mull retire yourfelf 
 Into fome covert ; take your fweet-heart's hat, 
 And pluck it o'er your brows ; muffle your face, 
 Difmantle you; and, as you can, diQiken 
 The truth of your own Seeming ; that you may 
 (For I do fear eyes over you) to mip-board 
 Get undefcry'd. 
 
 Per. I fee, the Play fo lyes, 
 That I mud bear a Part. 
 Cam. No remedy- 
 Have you done there ? 
 
 Flo. Should I now meet my father, 
 He would not call me fon. 
 
 Cam. Nay, you mail have no hat : 
 Come, lady, come : farewel, my friend. 
 Aut. Adieu, Sir. 
 
 Flo. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot? 
 Pray you, a word. 
 
 Cam. What I do next, mail be to tell the King 
 
 [Afide. 
 
 Of this Efcape, and whither they are bound : 
 Wherein my hope is, I {hall fo prevail 
 To force him after ; in whofe company 
 I (hall review Sicilian for whofe fight 
 I have a woman's Longing. 
 
 Flo. Fortune fpeed us! 
 Thus we fet on, Camilla, to th' fea-fide. 
 
 [Exit Flor. witb Per. 
 Cam. The fwifter fpeed, the better. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE XL 
 Aut. I underftand the bufinefs, I hear it: to have 
 an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is ne- 
 A a 4 ceffary
 
 Tht- WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 cefiary for a cut-purfe ; a good nofe is requifite alfb, 
 to fmell out work for th* other fenfes. I fee, this is 
 the time that the unjuft man doth thrive. What an 
 exchange had this been, without boot ? what a boot is 
 here, with this exchange ? fure, the Gods do this year 
 connive at us, and we may do any thing extempore. 
 The Prince hmfeif is about a piece of iniquity , deal- 
 ing away from his father, with his clog at his heels. 
 (a) If I thought it were not a piece of honefty to ac- 
 quaint the King withal, I would do't i I hold it the 
 more knavery to conceal it i and therein am 1 con- 
 ftant to my Profeffion. 
 
 Enter Clown and Shepherd. 
 
 Afide, afide, here's more matter for a hot brain ; 
 every lane's end, every mop, church, feffion, hanging, 
 yields a careful man work. 
 
 Col. See, fee j what a man you are now ! there is 
 no other way, but to tell the King Ihe's a Changling, 
 and none of your flefh and blood. 
 
 Shep. Nay, but hear me. 
 
 Clo, Nay, but hear me. 
 
 Shep. Go to then. 
 
 Clo. She being none of your flefh and blood, your 
 flefh and blood has not offended the King ; and, fo, 
 your flefh and blood is not to be punifh'd by him. 
 Shew thofe things you found about her, thofe fecret 
 things, all but what me has with her , this being done, 
 let the law go whiflle -, I warrant you. 
 
 Shep. I will tell the King all, every word, yea, and 
 his fon's pranks too ; " who, 1 may fay, is no honeft 
 " man neither to his father, nor to me, to go about 
 *' to make me the King's brother-in-law." 
 
 Clo. tl Indeed, brother-in-law was the fartheft off 
 * you could have been to him -, and then your blood 
 
 (a] Oxford Edition Vulg. Iflthcught it ivere afisce cfbonefy 
 to acquaint the JKie withal. 1 iiovld not do it. 
 
 had
 
 The W INTER'* TALE. 361 
 
 C V had been the dearer by I know how much an 
 " ounce." 
 
 Ant. Very wifely, puppies ! [Afidc. 
 
 Sbep. Well ; let us to the King ; there is That in 
 this Farthel will make him fcratch his beard. 
 
 Aut. I know not, what impediment this Complaint 
 may be to the flight of my matter. 
 
 Clo. 'Pray heartily, he be at the Palace. 
 
 Aut. Tho* I am not naturally honed, I am fo 
 fometimes by chance : let me pocket up my Pedler's 
 excrement. How now, ruftiques, whither are you 
 bound ? 
 
 Sbep. To th* Palace, an it like your Worfliip. 
 
 Aut. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the 
 condition of that farthel, the place of your dwelling, 
 your names, your age, of what having, breeding, 
 and any thing that is fitting for to be known, dif- 
 cover. 
 
 Clo. We are but plain fellows, Sir. 
 
 Aut. A lie ; you are rough and hairy ; let me have 
 no lying ; it becomes none but trade/men, and they 
 often give us foldiers the lie ; but we pay them for 
 it with (tamped coin, not {tabbing fteel, 9 therefore 
 they do give us the lie. 
 
 Clo. Your Worihip had like to have given us one, 
 if you had not taken your felf with the manner. 
 
 Sbep. Are you a Courtier, an like you, Sir ? 
 
 Aut. Whether it like me, or no, I am a Courtier. 
 Seeft thou not the air of the Court in thefe enfoldings ? 
 hath not my gate in it the meafure of the Court? re- 
 ceives not thy nofe court-odour from me ? reflect I 
 not, on thy bafenefs, court- contempt ? think'ft thou, 
 for that I infmuate, or toze from thee thy bufmefs, I 
 
 9 Therefore they do not give us the lie. ] Dele the negative : the 
 fenfe requires it. The Joke is this, they have a profit in lying to 
 us by advancing the price of their commodities ; therefore they 
 <3o He. 
 
 am
 
 WINTER** TALE. 
 
 am therefore no Courtier? I am courtier, Cap-ape; 
 and one that will either pulh on, or pluck back thy 
 bufmefs there ; whereupon I command thee to open 
 thy affair. 
 
 Sbep. My bufinefs, Sir, is to the King. 
 Aut. What Advocate haft thou to him ? 
 Shep. I know not, an't like you. 
 do. l Advocate's the court-word for a pheafant j 
 lay, you have none. 
 
 Sbep. None, Sir ; I have no pheafant cock, nor hen. 
 Ant. " How blefs'd are we, that are not fimple men ! 
 M Yet Nature might have_ made me as thefe are, 
 *' Therefore I will not difdain." 
 
 Clo. This cannot be but a great Courtier. 
 Shep. His garments are rich, but he wears them 
 not handfomly. 
 
 Go. " He feems to be the more noble in being 
 * c fantaftical j a Great man, I'll warrant , I know, by 
 *' the picking on's teeth." 
 
 Aut. The farthel there ? what's i'th' farthel ? 
 Wherefore that box ? 
 
 Sbep. Sir, there lyes fuch fecrets in this farthel and 
 box, which none muft know but the King , and which 
 he mall know within this hour, if I may come to th* 
 fpeech of him. 
 
 Aut. Age, thou haft loft thy labour. 
 Sbep. Why, Sir ? 
 
 Aut. The King is not at the Palace ; he is gone 
 aboard a new (hip, to purge melancholy and air him- 
 felf ; for if thou be'ft capable of things ferious, thou 
 muft know, the King is full of grief. 
 
 Sbep. So 'tis faid, Sir, about his fon that mould 
 have married a fhepherd's daughter. 
 
 I Advocalit tlit court~*xor d far a pbeafantJ] This fatire, on 
 tbe bxtbery of courts, not unpleaiant. 
 
 Aut.
 
 The WINTER'/ TALE. 363 
 
 Aut. If that fhepherd be not in hand-fafr, let him 
 fly j the curies he (hall have, the tortures he fhall feel, 
 will break the back of man, the heart of monfter. / 
 
 Clo. Think you fo, Sir? 
 
 Aut. Not he alone fhall fuffer what wit can rhake 
 heavy, and vengeance bitter ; but thofe that are ger- 
 mane to him, tho' remov'd fifty times, (hall all come 
 under the hangman ; which tho' it be great pity^ yet it 
 is necefTury. An old Sheep-whiftling rogue, d ram- 
 tender, to offer to have his daughter come into grace ! 
 ibme fay, he fhall be fton'd ; but that death is too 
 foft for him, fay I : draw our throne into a (heej)-coat! 
 all deaths are too few, the fharpeft too eafie. 
 
 Clo. Has the old man e'er a fon. Sir, do you hear, 
 an*t like you, Sir? 
 
 Aut. He has a fon, who fhall be flay'd alive, then 
 'nointed over with honey, fet on the head of a wafp*s 
 neft,'then (land 'till he be three quarters and a dram 
 dead ; then recover'd again with Aqua-vita , or Ibme 
 other hot infufion j then, raw as he is, (and in the hot- 
 teft day prognoftication proclaims) fhall he be fet a- 
 gainft a brick-wall, the Sun looking with a fouthward 
 eye upon him, where he is to behold him, with flies 
 blown to death. But what talk we of thefe traitorly 
 rafcals, whole miferies are to be fmil*d at, their offen- 
 ces being fo capital ? Tell me, (for youfeemto beho- 
 neft plain men) what you have to the King ; being 
 fomething gently confider'd, I'll bring you where he is 
 aboard, tender your perfons to his prefence, whifper 
 him in your behalf, and if it be in man, befides the 
 King to effect your fuits, here is a man fhall do it. 
 
 Clo. He feems to be of great authority ; clofe with 
 him, give him gold ; " and tho* authority be a ftub- 
 ** born Bear, yet he is oft led by the nofe with gold ;" 
 fhevv the infide of your purfe to the outfide of his 
 hand, and no more ado. Remember, fton'd, and flay'd 
 
 Sbep.
 
 364 3fe WINTER/ TALE. 
 
 Sbep. An't pleafe you, Sir, to undertake the bufinefs 
 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. 
 
 Aut. After I have done what I promifed? 
 Sbep. Ay, Sir. 
 
 4ut. Well, give me the moiety. t Are you a party 
 in this bufinefs ? 
 
 Clo. " In fome fort, Sir; but tho' my cafe be a pi- 
 u tifbl one, I hope I (hall not be flay'd out of it. 
 
 Aut. Oh, that's the cafe of the ihepherd's fon ; 
 hang him, he'Jl be made an example. 
 
 Clo. Comfort, good comfort ; we muft to the King, 
 and fhew our ftrange fights ; he muft know, 'tis none 
 of your daughter, nor my fitter; we are gone elfe. 
 Sir, I will give you as much as this old man does, 
 when the bufinefs is performed ; and remain, as he 
 fays, your Pawn 'till it be brought you. 
 
 Aut. I will truft you, walk before toward the fea- 
 fide, go on the right hand j I will but look upon the 
 hedge and follow you. 
 
 Go. We are blefs'd in this man, as I may fay, even 
 blefs'd. 
 
 Sbep. Let's before, as he bids us ; he was provided 
 to do us good. {Exeunt Shep. and Clown. 
 
 dut. If I had a mind to be honeft, 1 fee, Fortune 
 would not fuffer me 5 ftie drops booties in my mouth. 
 I am courted now with a double occafion : gold, and 
 a means to do the Prince my mafter good ; which, 
 who knows how That may turn back to my ad- 
 vancement ? I will bring thefe two moles, thefe blind 
 ones, aboard him ; if he think it fit to fhoar them a- 
 gain, and that the complaint they have to the King 
 concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue, for be- 
 ing fo far officious i tor I am proof againtt that Tide, 
 and what fhame elfe belongs to't : to him will I pre- 
 feut them, there may be matter in it. [Exit. 
 
 ACT
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 365 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 Changes to S i c i L x A. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Cleomines, Dion, Paulina, and 
 Servants. 
 
 C L E O M I N B S. 
 
 SI R, you have done enough, and have performed 
 A faint- like forrow : no fault could you make, 
 Which you have not redecm'd , indeed, paid down 
 More penitence, than done trefpafs. At the laft, 
 Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil > 
 With them, forgive yourfelf. 
 
 Leo. Whilft I remember 
 Her and her virtues, I cannot forget 
 My blemifhes in them, and fo ilill think of 
 The wrong I did myfelf ; which was fo much, 
 That heir-lefs it hath made my Kingdom i and 
 Deftroy'd the fweet'ft companion, that e'er man 
 Bred his hopes out of. 
 
 Pau. True, too true, my lord ; 
 If one by one you wedded all the world, 
 Or, from the All that are, took fomething good, 
 To make a perfect woman \ fhe, you kill'd, 
 Would be unparallelM. 
 
 Leo. I thiak fo. Kill'd ? 
 
 Kill'd ? (he I kill'd ? I did fo, but thou ftrik'ft me 
 Sorely, to fay I did , it is as bitter 
 Upon thy tongue, as in my thought. Now, good now. 
 Say fo but (cldom. 
 
 Cle. Not at all, good lady ; 
 
 You might have fpoke a thoufand things, that would 
 Have done the time more bcnefir, and grac'd 
 Your kindnefs better. 
 
 Pau.
 
 366 Tte WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 Pau. You are one of thofe, 
 Would have him wed again. 
 
 Dio. If you would not fo, 
 You pity not the ftate, nor the remembrance 
 Of his moft fovereign name ; confider little, 
 What dangers (by his highnefs* fail of iflue) 
 May drop upon his kingdom, and devour 
 Incertain lookers on. What were more holy, 
 1 Than to rejoice the former Queen ? This will. 
 What holier, than for royalty's repair, 
 For prefent comfort, and for future good, 
 To blefs the bed of Majefty again 
 With a fweet fellow to't ? 
 
 Pau* There is none worthy, 
 Refpe&ing her that's gone ; befides, the Gods 
 Will have fulfill'd their fecret purpofes : 
 For has not the divine Apollo faid, 
 Is't not the tenour of his oracle, 
 That King Leontes mall not have an heir, 
 'Till his loft child be found ? which, that it lhall, 
 Is all as monftrous to our human reafon, 
 
 1 Than to rejoice, the former Queen is WELL?] The fpeaker in 
 here giving reafons why the King fhould marry again. One reafon 
 is, pity to the State; another, regard to the continuance of the royal 
 family ; and the third, comfort and confolation to the King's af- 
 fliftion. All hitherto is plain, and becoming a Privy-counfeJlor. 
 But now comes in, what he calls, a holy argument for it, and that 
 is a rejoicing that the former Queen is tvell and at reft. To make 
 this argument of force, we muft conclude that the fpeaker went 
 upon this opinion, that a widower can never heartily rejoice thar 
 his former wife is at reft, till he has got another. Without doubt 
 Shake/fear wrote, 
 
 What <were more hofy, 
 
 Than to rejoice the former Queen ? THIS WILL. 
 What, fays the fpeaker, can be a more holy motive to a new 
 choice than that it will glad the fpirit of the former Queen ? ioi 
 fhe was of fo excellent a difpofition that the happinefs of the King 
 and Kingdom, to be procured by it, will give her extreme plea- 
 fure. The Poet goes upon the general opinion, that the fpirits of 
 the happy in the other world are concerned for the condition o.f 
 their furviving friends. 
 
 As
 
 The WINTER'* TALE. 367 
 
 As my Anfigonus to break his grave, 
 And come again to me ; who, on my life, 
 Did perifh with the infant. 'Tis your counfel, 
 My lord mould to the heav'ns be contrary ; 
 Oppofe againft their wills. Care not for iflue ; 
 
 [To the King* 
 
 The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander 
 Left his to th* worthieft ; fo his fucceflbr 
 Was like to be the beft. 
 
 Leo. Good Paulina, 
 Who haft the memory of ffermione, 
 1 know, in honour : O, that ever I 
 Had fquar'd me to thy counfel! then, even now 
 I might have look'd upon my Queen's full eyes, 
 Have taken treafure from her lips! 
 
 Pau. And left them 
 More rich, for what they yielded. 
 
 Leo. Thou fpeak'ft truth : 
 No more fuch wives, therefore no wife ; one worfc, 
 And better us'd, would make her fainted fpirit 
 Again poflefs her corps ; and on this ftage, 
 ( Where we (a) offend her now) appear foul-vext, 
 And begin, Why to me? 
 
 Pau. Had me fuch power, 
 She had juft caufe. 
 
 Leo. She had, and would incenfe me 
 To murder her I married. 
 
 Pau. I mould fo : 
 
 Were I the ghoft that walk'd, I'd bid you mark 
 Her eye, and tell me, for what dull part in't 
 You chofe her , then I'd fhriek, that even your ears 
 Shou'd rift to hear me, and the words that folio w'J 
 Should be, Remember mine. 
 
 Leo. Stars, ftars, 
 
 And all eyes elfe, dead coals : fear thou no wife : 
 Til have no wife, Paulina. 
 
 () of end her. Mr. Theobald- Vulg. offender. 
 
 Pau.
 
 368 Tie WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 Pau. Will you fwear 
 Never to marry, but by my free leave ? 
 
 Leo. Never, Paulina ; fo be blefs'd my fpirit ! 
 
 Pau. Then, good my lords, bear witnefs to his oath. 
 
 Cleo. You tempt him over- much. 
 
 Pau. Unlefs another, 
 As like Hermione as is her pi&ure, 
 Affront his eye. 
 
 Cleo. Good Madam, pray, have done. 
 
 Pau. Yet, if my lord will marry ; if you will, Sir -, 
 No remedy, but you will j .give me the office 
 To chufe you a Queen ; fhe {hall not be fo young 
 As was your former ; but (he fhall be fuch, 
 As, walk'd your firft Queen's ghoft, it mould take joy 
 To fee her in your arms. 
 
 Leo. My true Paulina,, 
 We fhall not marry, 'till thou bid'fl us. 
 
 Pau. That 
 
 Shall be, when your firft Queen's again in breath : 
 Never till then. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 
 Gent. One that gives out himfelf prince Floriztl, 
 Son of PotixencSj with his princefs ((he, 
 The faireft I have yet beheld) defires accefs 
 To your high prefence. 
 
 Leo. What with him ? he comes not 
 Like to his father's greatnefs , his approach, 
 So out of circumftance and fudden, tells us, 
 'Tis not a vifitation fram'd, but forc'd 
 By need and accident. What train ? 
 
 Gent. But few, 
 And thofe but mean. 
 
 Lfo. His princefs, fay you, with him? 
 
 Gent,
 
 The WINTER*/ TALE. 369 
 
 Gent. Yes ; the moft peerlefs piece of earth, I think, 
 That e*er the fun fhone bright on. 
 
 Pan. Oh Hermione, 
 
 As every prefent time doth boaft itfelf 
 Above a better, gone ; * fo muft thy grave 
 Give way to what's feen now. Sir, you yourfelf 
 Have faid, and writ fo ; but your writing now 
 Is colder than that theme ; Jhe bad not been, 
 Nor was Jhe to be equaled \ thus your verfe 
 Flow'd with her beauty once ; 'tis (hrewdly ebb'd, 
 To fay, you've feen a better. 
 
 Gent. Pardon, Madam ; 
 The one I have almoft forgot, (your pardon) 
 The other, when fhe has obtain'd your eye, 
 Will have your tongue too. This is a creature, 
 Would fhe begin a feel:, might quench the zeal 
 Of all profeflbrs elfe, make profelites 
 Of who fhe but bid follow. 
 
 Pan. How? not women? 
 
 Gent. Women will love her, that fhe is a woman 
 More worth than any man : men, that me is 
 The rareft of all women. 
 
 Leo. Go, Cleomines; 
 
 Yourfelf (affifted with your honour'd friends) 
 Bring them to our embracement. Still 'tis ftrange 
 He thus mould fteal upon us. [Exit Clea 
 
 Pau. Had our prince 
 
 (Jewel of children) feen this hour, he had pair'd 
 Well with this lord j there was not full a month 
 Between their births. 
 
 Leo. Pr'ythee, no more ; ceafe ; thou know'ft, 
 He dies to me again, when talk'd of: fure, 
 When I mall fee this gentleman, thy fpeeches 
 Will bring me to confider that which may 
 Unfurnifh me of reafbn. They are come. 
 
 2 - fo muft thy grave] Grave for 
 
 VOL. III. Bb SCENE
 
 37O The WINTER'^ TALE. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Florizel, Perdita, Cleomines, and others. 
 
 Your mother was moft true to wedlock, prince, 
 For (he did print your royal father off, 
 Conceiving you. Were I but twenty one, 
 Your father's image is fo hit in you, 
 His very air, that I mould call you brother, 
 As I did him, and fpeak of fomething wildly 
 By us perform'd before. Mod dearly welcome, 
 As your fair princefs, goddefs! oh! alas! 
 I loft a couple, that 'twixt heav'n and earth 
 Might thus have ftood begetting wonder, as 
 You gracious couple do ; and then I loft 
 (All mine own folly ! ) the fociety, 
 Amity too of your brave father, whom 
 (Tho' bearing mifery) I defire my life 
 Once more to look on. 
 
 Flo. Sir, by his command 
 Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him 
 Give you all greetings, that a King, (at friend) 
 Can fend his brother ; and but infirmity, 
 Which waits upon worn times, hath fomething feiz'd 
 His wifli'd ability, he had himfelf 
 The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his 
 Meafur'd, to look upon you ; whom he loves, 
 He bad me fay fo, more than all the fcepters, 
 And thofe that bear them living. 
 
 Leo. Oh, my brother! 
 
 Good gentleman, the wrongs I have done thee ftir 
 Afrefh within me ; and thefe thy offices, 
 So rarely kind, are as interpreters 
 Of my behind-hand flacknefs. Welcome hither, 
 As is the fpring to th* earth. And hath he too 
 Expos'd this paragon to th* fearful ufage 
 
 (At
 
 WINTERS TALE. 
 
 (At lead, ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune, 
 To greet a man, not worth her pains ; much lefs, 
 Th* adventure of her perfon ? 
 
 Flo. Good my lord, 
 She came from Libya. 
 
 Leo. Where the warlike Smalus, 
 That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd, and Jov'd ? 
 
 Flo. Mod royal Sir, 
 
 From thence ; from him, whofe daughter 
 His tears proclaimed his parting with her ; thence 
 (A profperous fouth-wind friendly) we have crofs'd, 
 To execute the charge my father gave me, 
 For vifiting your highnefs ; my bert train 
 I have from your Sicilian mores difmifs'd, 
 Who for Bohemia bend, to fignifie 
 Not only my fuccefs in Libya, Sir, 
 But my arrival, and my wife's, in fafety 
 Here, where we are. 
 
 Leo. The blcflcd Gods 
 Purge all infection from our air, whilft you 
 Do climate here! You have a holy father, 
 A graceful gentleman, againft whofe perfon, 
 So lacred as it is, I have done fin ; 
 For which the heavens, taking angry note, 
 Have left me iflue-lefs ; and your father's blefs'd, 
 As he from heaven merits it, with you, 
 Worthy his goodnefs. What might I have been, 
 Might I a fon and daughter now have look'd on, 
 Such goodly things as you ? 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter a Lord. 
 
 Lord. Moft noble Sir, 
 
 That, which I mail report, will bear no credit, 
 Were not the proof fo high. Pleafe you, great Sir, 
 B b 2 Bohemia
 
 The W INTER*/ T A L E. 
 
 Bohemia greets you from himfelf, by me ; 
 
 De-fires you to attach his Ton, who has, 
 
 His dignity and duty both cad off, 
 
 Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with 
 
 A fhepherd's daughter. 
 
 Leo. Where's Bohemia? fpeak. 
 Lord. Here in your city ; I now came from him. 
 I fpeak amazedly, and it becomes 
 My marvel, and my mefiage : to your court 
 Whilft he was haftning, in the chafe, it feems, 
 Of this fair couple, meets he on the way 
 The father of this feeming lady, and 
 Her brother, having both their country quitted 
 With this young Prince. 
 
 Flo. Camillo has betray'd me ; 
 Whofe honour and whofe honefty 'till now 
 Endur'd all weathers. 
 
 Lord. Lay't Ib to his charge ; 
 He's with the king your father. 
 Leo. Who? Camillo? 
 
 Lord. Camilla^ Sir, I fpake with him ; who now 
 Has thefe poor men in queftion. Never faw I 
 Wretches fo quake ; they kfieel, they kifs the earth ; 
 Forfwear themfelves, as often as they fpeak: 
 Bohemia (lops his ears, and threatens them 
 With divers deaths, in death. 
 Per. Oh, my poor father ! 
 The heav'n fets fpies upon us, will not have 
 Our contract celebrated. 
 Leo. You are marry'd ? 
 Flo. We are not, Sir, nor are we like to be ; 
 The ftars, I fee, will kifs the valleys firft; 
 The odds for high and low's alike. 
 
 Leo. My lord, 
 Is this the daughter of a King? 
 
 Flo. She is, 
 When once me is my wife. 
 
 Leo.
 
 ne WINTER'/ TALE. 
 
 Leo. That once, I fee, by your good father's fpeed, 
 Will come on very flowly. I am fbrry, 
 (Moft forry) you have broken from his liking; 
 Where you were ty'd in duty ; and as forry, 
 3 Your choice is not fo rich in birth as beauty, 
 That you might well enjoy her. 
 
 Flo. Dear, look up , 
 Though Fortune^ vifible an enemy, 
 Should chafe us, with my father j power no jot 
 Hath (he to change our loves. 'Befeech you, Sir, 
 Remember, fince you ow'd no more to time 
 Than I do now ; with thought of fuch affections. 
 Step forth mine advocate ; at your requeft, 
 My father will grant precious things, as trifles. 
 
 Leo. Would he do fo, I'd beg your precious miftrefs, 
 Which he counts but a trifle. 
 
 Pau. Sir, my liege, 
 
 Your eye hath too much youth in't ; not a month 
 'Fore your Queen dy'd, fhe was more worth fuch gazes 
 Than what you look on now. 
 
 Leo. I thought of her, 
 Even in thefe looks I made 7 But your petition 
 
 [To Florizel. 
 
 Is yet unanfwer'd ; I will to your father ; 
 Your honour not o'erthrown by your defires, 
 I'm friend to them and you ; upon which errand 
 I now go toward him, therefore follow me, 
 And mark what way I make : come, good my lord. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 3 Tour choice is not fo rich in WORTH as beauty. ,] The Poet 
 mult have wrote, 
 
 Tour choice is not fo rich in B I R T H a i beauty ; 
 Becaufe Leontes was fo far from difparaging, or thinking meanly 
 of her worth, that, on the contrary, he rather elteems her a trea- 
 fure ; and, in his next fpeech to the Prince, calls her his freciout 
 
 Bb 3 SCENE
 
 "O 
 J3 
 
 The WINTER'* TALE, 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Near the Court in Sicilia. 
 
 Enter Autolicus, and a Gentleman. 
 
 Efeech you, Sir, were you prefent at this re-* 
 
 Jation ? 
 
 i Gent. I was by at the opening of the farthel, heard 
 the old fhcpherd deliver the manner how he found it ; 
 whereupon, after a little amazednefs, we were all com- 
 manded out of the chamber : only this, methought, I 
 heard the fhepherd fay, he found the child. 
 Aut. I would moft gladly know the iflue of it. 
 
 1 Gent. I make a broken delivery of the bufinefs ; 
 but the changes I perceived in the King, and Camillo^ 
 were very notes of admiration i they feem'd almoft, 
 with flaring on one another, to tear the cafes of their 
 eyes. There was fpeech in their dumbnefs, language 
 in their very gefture ; they look'd, as they had heard 
 of a world ranfom'd, or one deftroy'd ; a notable paf- 
 fion of wonder appear'd in them i but the wifeft be- 
 holder, that knew no more but feeing, could not fay 
 if th' importance were joy or forrow \ but in the ex- 
 tremity of the one, it muft needs be. 
 
 Enter another Gentleman. 
 
 Here comes a gentleman, that, happily, knows more : 
 the news, Rogero ? 
 
 2 Gent. Nothing but bonfires : the oracle is fulfill'd ; 
 the King's daughter is found i fuch a deal of wonder 
 is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers can- 
 not be able to exprefs it. 
 
 Enter another Gentleman. 
 
 Here comes the lady Paulina's Steward, he can de- 
 liver you more. How goes it now, Sir ? this news, 
 
 which
 
 The WINTER/ TALE. 375 
 
 which is call'd true, is fo like an old tale, that the 
 verity of it is in ftrong fufpicion ; has the King found 
 his heir? 
 
 3 Gent. Moft true, if ever truth were pregnant by 
 circumftance : That which you hear, you'll fwear you 
 fee, there is fuch unity in the proofs. The mantle of 
 Queen Hermione her jewel about the neck of it 
 the letters ofdntigonus found with it, which they know 
 to be his character, the majefty of the creature, in 
 refemblance of the mother, the affection of noble- 
 nefs, which nature Ihews above her breeding, and 
 many other evidences proclaim her with all certainty 
 to be the King's daughter. Did you fee the meeting 
 of the two Kings ? 
 
 2 Gent. No. 
 
 3 Gent. Then have you loft a fight, which was to be 
 feen, cannot be fpoken of. There might you have 
 beheld one joy crown another, fo and in fuch manner, 
 that it feem'd, forrow wept to take leave of them, for 
 their joy waded in tears. There was calling up of 
 eyes, holding up of hands, with countenance of fuch 
 diffraction, that they were to be known by garment, 
 not by favour. Our King being ready to leap out of 
 himfelf, for joy of his found daughter , as if that joy 
 were now become a lofs, cries, oh, thy mother, thy 
 mother ! then asks Bohemia forgivenefs ; then embraces 
 his fon-in-law j then again worries he his daughter, 
 with clipping her. Now he thanks the old fhepherd, 
 who (lands by, " like a weather-beaten conduit of 
 " many Kings' reigns." I never heard of fuch another 
 encounter, which lames report to follow it, and un? 
 does defcription to do it. 
 
 2 Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus^ that 
 carry'd hence the child ? 
 
 3 Gent. Like an old tale (till, which will have mat-r 
 ters to rehearfe, tho* credit be afleep, and not an ear 
 open , he was torn to pieces with a bear ; this avouches 
 
 B b 4 the
 
 376 The WINTER'* TALE. 
 
 the fhepherd's Ton, who has not only his innocence, 
 which Teems much to juftifie him, but a handkerchief 
 and rings of his, that Paulina knows. 
 
 i Gent. What became of his bark, and his fol- 
 lowers ? 
 
 3 Gent. Wreckt the fame inftant of their matter's 
 death, and in the view of the fhepherd ; fo that ail 
 the inftruments, which aided to expofe the child, 
 were even then loft, when it was found. But, oh, 
 the noble combat, that 'twixt joy and forrow was 
 fought in Paulina ! She had one eye declin'd for the 
 lofs of her husband, another elevated that the Oracle 
 was fulfill 'd. She lifted the Princefs from the earth, 
 and fo locks her in embracing, as if fhe would pin 
 her to her heart, that fhe might no more be in danger 
 of lofing. 
 
 i Gent. The dignity of this act was worth the au- 
 dience of Kings and Princes ; for by fuch was it 
 aded. 
 
 3 Gent. One of the prettieft touches of all, and that 
 * which angled for mine eyes, was, when at the rela- 
 tion of the Queen's death, with the manner how fhe 
 came to it, bravely confefs*d, and lamented by the 
 King, how attentivenefs wounded his daughter 5 'till, 
 from one fign of dolour to another, fhe did with an, 
 alas ! I would fain fay, bleed tears ; for, I am fure, 
 my heart wept blood. Who was mod marble, there 
 changed colour ; fome fwooned, all forrowed j if all 
 the world could have feen't, the woe had been uni- 
 verfal. 
 
 I Gent. Are they returned to the court ? 
 3 Gent. No. The Princefs hearing of her mother's 
 ftatue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, a piece 
 
 4 which angle fl for nine eyes, [cauvbt the nvater, the? not tbt jijh ^\ 
 was, &c ] I dare pronounce what is here in hooks, a moft itupid 
 interpolation of forne player, that angled for a wiuicifm ; and there- 
 fore have ftruck i: en.: of the text. 
 
 many
 
 WINTER'/ TALE. 377 
 
 many years in doing, and now newly perform'd by 
 5 that rare Italian matter, Julio Romano ; who, had 
 he himfelf eternity, and could put breath into his 
 work, would beguile nature of her cuftom, fo per- 
 fectly he is her ape : He fo near to Hermione hath done 
 fJermione, that they fay, one would fpeak to her, and 
 ftand in hope of anfwer : Thither with all greedinefs 
 of affection are they gone, and there they intend to 
 fup. 
 
 2 Gent. I thought, (he had fome great matter there 
 in hand, for fhe hath privately twice or thrice a-day, 
 ever fince the death of Hermione, vifited that removed 
 houfe. Shall we thither, and with our company piece 
 the rejoycing ? 
 
 i Gent. Who would be thence, that has the benefit 
 of accefs ? every wink of an eye, fome new grace will 
 be born : our abfence makes us unthrifty to our know- 
 ledge. Let's along. [Exeunt. 
 
 Aut. Now, had I not the dafh of my former life in 
 me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought 
 the old man and his fon aboard the Prince ; told him, 
 I heard them talk of a farthel, and I know not what; 
 but he at that time, over-fond of the fhepherd's 
 daughter, (fo he then took her to be) who began to 
 be much fea-fick, and himfelf little better, extremity 
 of weather continuing, this myftery remained undif- 
 
 5 that rare Italian majler, Julio Romano; &c."] Mr. Theobald 
 fays, All the encomiums put togtther, that have been conferred on 
 this excellent artijl in painting and architecture, do not amount to 
 the jine praife here given him by our Author. But he is ever the un- 
 luckieft of all cri ticks when he paffes judgment on beauties and de- 
 fedls. The pafTage happens to be quite unworthy Shakefpear. i. He 
 makes his fpeaker fay, that was Julio Romano the God of Nature, 
 he would outdo Nature. For this is the plain meaning of the words, 
 bad he himfelf eternity, and could put breath into his work, he would 
 beguile Nature of her cujlom. zdlj, He makes of this famous 
 Painter, a Statuary; I fuppofe confounding him with Michael An- 
 gela ; but, what is woril of all, a painter of jlatues, like Mrs. Sal- 
 mon of her wax- work. 
 
 covered*
 
 378 The WINTERV TALE. 
 
 covered. But 'tis all one to me ; for had I been the 
 finder out of this fecret, it would not have relifh'd 
 among my other difcredits. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Shepherd and Clown. 
 
 Here come thofe I have done good to againft my 
 will, and already appearing in the bloflbms of their 
 fortune. 
 
 Shep. Come, boy, I am paft more children ; but 
 thy fons and daughters will be all gentlemen born. 
 
 Clo. " You are well met, Sir j you denied to fight 
 " with me this other day, becaufe I was no gentleman 
 *' born : fee you thefe cloaths ? fay, you fee them not, 
 " and think me ftill no gentleman born. You were 
 " beft fay, thefe robes are not gentlemen born. Give 
 " me the lie ; do, and try whether I am not now a 
 " gentleman born. 
 
 Aut. I know you are now. Sir, a gentleman born; 
 
 Clo. Ay, and have been fo any time thefe four 
 hours. 
 
 Shep. And fo have I, boy. 
 
 Clo. So you have ; but I was a gentleman born be- 
 fore my father ; for the King's fon took me by the 
 hand, and call'd me brother ; and then the two Kings 
 calPd my father brother j and then the Prince my bro- 
 ther, ^nd the Princefs my fifter, call'd my father, fa- 
 ther, and fo we wept ; " and there was the firft gen- 
 " tleman-like tears that ever we fhed. 
 
 Shep. We may live, fon, to (hed many more. 
 
 Clo. Ay, or elfe 'twere hard luck, being in fo pre- 
 pofterous eftate as we are. 
 
 Aut. I humbly befeech you, Sir, to pardon me all 
 the faults I have committed to your worfhip, and to 
 give me your good report to the Prince, my matter. 
 
 Shfp,
 
 The WINTER'.*- TALE. 379 
 
 Shep. 'Pr'ythee, fon, do ; for we muft be gentle, 
 now we are gentlemen. 
 
 Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life ? 
 
 Aut. Ay, an it like your good worfhip. 
 
 Clo. Give me thy hand ; I will fwear to the Prince, 
 thou art as honeft a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. 
 
 Shep. You may fay it, but not fwear it. 
 
 Clo. Not fwear it, now I am a gentleman? let 
 boors and franklins fay it, I'll fwear it. 
 
 Shep. How if it be falfe, fon ? 
 
 Clo. If it be ne'er fo falfe, a true gentleman may 
 fwear it in the behalf of his friend : and I'll fwear to 
 the Prince, thou art a tall fellow of thy hands, and 
 that thou wilt not be drunk ; but I know, thou art no 
 tall fellow of thy hands ; and that thou wilt be drunk ; 
 but Til fwear it ; and, I would, thou would'ft be a 
 tall fellow of thy hands. 
 
 Aut. I will prove fo, Sir, to my power. 
 
 Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow , if I 
 do not wonder how thou dar'fl venture to be drunk, 
 not being a tall fellow, truft me not. Hark, the King$ 
 and the Princes, our kindred, are going to fee the 
 Queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy 
 good mafters. {Exwnt. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Changes to Paulina'^ Houfe. 
 
 Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita, Camillo, 
 Paulina, Lords and Attendants. 
 
 Grave and good Paulina, the great comfort 
 That I have had of thee! 
 Paul. What, fovereign Sir, 
 I did not well, I meant well ; all my fervices 
 You have paid home. But ;bat you have vouchfaf 'd, 
 
 With
 
 T/tf WINTER'; TALE. 
 
 With your crown'd brother, and thefe your contracted 
 Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor houfe to vifitj 
 It is a furplus of your Grace, which never 
 My life may laft to anfwer. 
 
 Leo. O Paulina^ 
 
 "We honour you with trouble ; but we came 
 To fee the flame of our Queen. Your gallery 
 Have we pafs'd through, not without much content, 
 In many Angularities; but we faw not 
 That, which my daughter came to look upon, 
 The Itatue of her mother. 
 
 Paul. As (he liv'd peerlefs, 
 So her dead likenefs, I do well believe, 
 Excels whatever yet you look'd upon, 
 Or hand of man hath done ; 6 therefore I keep it 
 Lovely, apart. But here it is ; prepare 
 To fee the life as lively mock'd, as ever 
 Still Qeep mock'd death; behold, and fay, 'tis well! 
 Paulina draws a curtain, and difcovers 
 
 Hermioneftandittg like a flatue. 
 I like your filence, it the more fhews off 
 Your wonder; but yet fpeak, firft you, my Liege, 
 Comes it not fomething near ? 
 
 Leo. Her natural pofture ! 
 Chide me, dear ftone, that I may fay, indeed, 
 Thou art Hermione ; or rather, thou art me, 
 In thy not chiding; for me was as tender 
 As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina, 
 Hermione was not fo much wrinkled, nothing 
 So aged as this feems. 
 
 Pol. Oh, not by much. 
 
 Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence, 
 
 6 therefore I keep it 
 
 Lovely, apart. ] Lovely, i e charily, with more than 
 ordinary regard and tenderucfs. The Oxford Editor reads, 
 
 Lonely, apart." " 
 As if it could be apart without being alone. 
 
 Which
 
 The W I N T E R'J T A L E. 
 
 Which lets go by fome fixteen years > and makes her, 
 As fhe liv'd now. 
 
 Leo. As now me might have done, 
 So much to my good comfort, as it is 
 Now piercing to my foul. Oh, thus me ftood ; 
 Even with fuch life of Majefty, (warm life, 
 As now it coldly ftands) when firft I woo'd her. 
 I am afham'd ; do's not the ftone rebuke me, 
 For being more ftone than it? oh, royal piece ! 
 There's magick in thy Majefty, which has 
 My evils conjur'd to remembrance ; and 
 From my admiring daughter took the fpirits, 
 Standing like ftone with thee. 
 
 Per. And give me leave, 
 And do not fay 'tis fuperftition, that 
 I kneel, and then implore her blefiing. Lady, 
 Dear Queen, that ended when I but began, 
 Give me that hand of yours to kifs. 
 
 Paul. O, patience 5 
 The ftatue is but newiy fix'd -, the colour's 
 Not dry. 
 
 Cam. My Lord, your forrow was too fore laid on, 
 Which fixteen winters cannot blow away, 
 So many fummers dry : fcarce any joy 
 Did ever fo long live ; no forrow, 
 But kill'd itfelf much fooner. 
 
 Pel. Dear my brother, 
 
 Let him, that was the caufe of this, have power 
 To take off fo much grief from you, as he 
 Will piece up in himielf. 
 
 Paul. Indeed, my Lord, 
 If I had thought, the fight of my poor image 
 Would thus have wrought you, (for the ftone is mine,) 
 I'd not have fliew'd it. 
 
 Leo. Do not draw the curtain. 
 Paul. No longer fhall you gaze on't, left your fancy 
 May think anon, it move. 
 
 Leo.
 
 82 The WINTER/ TALE. 
 
 Leo. Let be, Jet be ; 
 
 ^ Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already-^ 
 What was he, that did make it? fee, my Lord, 
 Would you not deem, it breath'd ; and that thofe veins 
 Did verily bear blood ? 
 
 Pol. Mafterly done ! 
 The very life feems warm upon her lip. 
 
 Leo. 8 The fixure of her eye has motion in't, 
 As we were mock'd with art. 
 
 Paul. I'll draw the curtain. 
 My Lord's almoft fo far tranfported, that 
 He'll think anon, it lives. 
 
 Leo. O fweet Paulina, 
 Make me to think fo twenty years together : 
 No fettled fenfes of the world can match 
 The pleafure of that madnefs. Let't alone. 
 
 Paul. I'm forry, Sir, I have thus far ftirr'd you ; but 
 I could afflict you further. 
 
 Leo. Do, Paulina ; 
 For this affliction has a tafte as fweet 
 As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks, 
 There is an air comes from her. What fine chizzel 
 Could ever yet cut breath ? let no man mock me, 
 For I will kifs her. 
 
 7 Would I 'were dead, but that, methinks, already ] The fen- 
 tence compleated is, 
 
 but that, metbinks, already I eonverfe with the dead. 
 
 But there his paffion made him break off. 
 
 8 'The FIXURE of her eje has motion in't,"] This is fad nonfenfe. 
 We ftiould read, 
 
 The F i s s u RE of her eye 
 
 i. e. the focket, the place where the eye is. 
 
 9 / could afflid you further. 1 } If it had not been for theanfwer, 
 one ftiould have concluded the Poet had wrote, off eft you', how- 
 ever he ufes afflifl in the fenfe of affeS. This is only obferved to 
 ihew, that when we find words to which we muft put an unufual 
 fignification to make fenfe, that we ought to conclude Sbakefpear 
 took that liberty, and that the text is not corrupted. A thing the 
 Oxford Editor ftiould have confidered. 
 
 Paul 
 
 4<r A- f<
 
 The WINT E R'J TALE. 38 
 
 Paul. Good my lord, forbear ; 
 The ruddinefs upon her lip is wet ; 
 You'll marr it, if you kifs it ; ftain your own 
 With oily painting ; fhall I draw the curtain ? 
 
 Leo. No, not thefe twenty years. 
 
 Per. So long could I 
 Stand by, a looker on. 
 
 Paul. Either forbear, 
 Quit prefently the chapel, or refolve you 
 For more amazement ; if you can behold it, 
 I'll make the flatue move, indeed ; defcend, 
 And take you by the hand ; but then you'll think, 
 Which I proteft againft, I am aflifted 
 By wicked powers. 
 
 Leo. What you can make her do, 
 I am content to look on ; what to fpeak, 
 I am content to hear : for 'tis as eafie 
 To 'make her fpeak, as move. 
 
 Paul. It is requir'd, 
 
 You do awake your faith ; then, all (land ftill ; 
 And thofe, that think it is unlawful bufinefs 
 I am about, let them depart. 
 
 Leo. Proceed ; 
 No foot fhall ftir. 
 
 Paul. Mufick ; awake her : ftrike ; [Mufick. 
 'Tis time, defcend ; be ftoneno more; approach, 
 Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 
 I'll fill your grave up: ftir; nay, come away: 
 Bequeath to death your numbnefs ; for from him 
 Dear life redeems you ; you perceive, me ftirs ; 
 
 [Hermione comes down. 
 Start not ; her actions fhall be holy, as, 
 You hear, my fpell is lawful ; do not fhun her, 
 Untill you fee her die again, for then 
 You kill her double. Nay, prefent your hand ; 
 When me was young, you woo'd her ; now in age, 
 Is fhe become the fuitor. 
 
 Leo.
 
 The WINTER^ TALE. 
 
 Leo. Oh, flie's warm; [Embracing her. 
 
 \ t this be magick, let it be an art 
 Lawful as eating. 
 
 Pol. She embraces him. 
 
 Cam. She hangs about his neck ; 
 If fhe pertain to life, let her fpeak too. 
 
 Pol. Ay, and make it manifeft where me has liv'd, 
 Or how ftol'n from the dead? 
 
 Paul. That fhe is living, 
 Were it but told you, mould be hooted at 
 Like an old tale; but it appears, fhe lives, 
 Tho* yet fhe fpeak not. Mark a little while. 
 Pleafe you to interpofe, fair Madam, kneel, 
 And pray your mother's blefling j turn, good Lady : 
 Our Perdita is found. - 
 
 [Prefenting Perdita, who kneels to Herm. 
 
 Her. You Gods, look down , . 
 
 And from your facred vials pour your graces 
 Upon my daughter's head ; tell me, mine own, 
 Where haft thou been preferv'd ? where liv'd ? how 
 
 found 
 
 Thy father's court ; for thou fhalt hear, that I, 
 Knowing by Paulina that the Oracle 
 Gave hope thou waft in being, have preferv'd 
 Myfelf, to fee the iffue. 
 
 Paul. There's time enough for That ; 
 Left they defire, upon this pulh, to trouble 
 Your joys with like relation. Go together, 
 You precious winners all, your exultation 
 Partake to every one , u I, an old turtle, 
 " W ill wing me to fome wither'd bough, and there 
 <c My mate, that's never to be found again, 
 " Lament 'till I am lort. 
 
 L"o. O peace, Paulina : 
 Thou (houldft a husband take by my confent, 
 As I by thine, a wife. This is a match, 
 And made between's by vows. Thou haft found mine, 
 
 But
 
 The WINTER'* TALF. 385 
 
 But how, is to be queftion'd ; for I faw her, 
 
 As I thought, dead -, and have, in vain, faid many 
 
 A prayer upon her grave. I'll not feek far 
 
 (For him, I partly know his mind) to find thee 
 
 An honourable husband. Come, CamiHc, 
 
 And take her by the hand ; whofe worth and honefty 
 
 Is richly noted ; and here juftified 
 
 By us, a pair of Kings. Let's from this place. 
 
 What ? look upon my brother : Both your pardons, 
 
 That e'er I put between your holy looks 
 
 My ill fufpicion: this, your fon-in-law, 
 
 And fon unto the King whom heav'ns directing, 
 
 Is troth- plight to your daughter. Good Paulina, 
 Lead us from hence, where we may leifurely 
 Each one demand, and anfwer to his part 
 Performed in this wide gap of time, fince firfl 
 We were diiTever'd. Haftily Jead away. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 VOL. III. Cc THE
 
 THE 
 
 L I F E and DEATH 
 
 O F 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 CC 2
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 KING John. 
 
 Prince Henry, Son to the King. 
 
 Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, and Nephew to tie King. 
 
 Pembroke, *\ 
 
 Efiex, / 
 
 Salisbury, \ Englilh Lords. 
 
 Hubert, ( 
 
 Bigot, J 
 
 Faulconbridge, Baft ard- Son to Richard the Firft. 
 
 Robert Faulconbridge, fuppos'd Brother to the Baftard. 
 
 James Gurney, Servant to the Lady Faulconbridge. 
 
 Peter of Pomfret, a Prophet. 
 
 Philip, King of France. 
 
 Lewis, the Dauphin. 
 
 Arch-Duke of Auftria. 
 
 Cardinal Pandulpho, the Pope's Legate. 
 
 Melun, a French Lord. 
 
 Chatilion, Anibaffador from France to King John. 
 
 Elinor, Queen-Mother of England. 
 
 Conftance, Mother to Arthur. 
 
 Blanch, Daughter to Alphonfo King of Caftile, and 
 
 Neice to King John. 
 Lady Faulconbridge, Mother to the Baftard^ and 
 
 Robert Faulconbridge. 
 
 C///2tfJ0/Angiers, Herald^ Executioner^ Me/engers y 
 Soldiers, and other Attendants. 
 
 ^fhe SCENE, fometimes in England, and fometimes 
 in France. 
 
 THE
 
 'The LIFE and DEATH of 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE L 
 
 The Court of England. 
 
 Enter King John, Queen Elinor, Pembroke, Eflex, 
 and Salisbury, with Chatilion. 
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 \ O W, fay, Cbatilion, what would France 
 
 with us ? 
 Chat. Thus, after greeting, fpeaks the 
 
 King of France, 
 
 In my behaviour, to the Majefty, 
 The borrow'd Majefty of England here. 
 
 Eli. Aftrange beginning 5 borrow'd Majefty ! 
 K. John. Silence, good mother ; hear the embafiie. 
 
 I The troublefome Reign of King John was written in two parts, 
 by W. Shakefpear and W. Roivley, and printed'i6i 1. But the 
 prefent Plav is intirely different, and infinitely fuperior to it. 
 
 Mr. Pope, 
 
 Cc 3 Chat.
 
 3 go King J o H !N. 
 
 Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf 
 Of thy deceafed brother Geffrey's fon, 
 Arthur Plantagenet, lays lawful claim 
 To this fair ifland, and the territories: 
 To Ireland^ Poiffiers, Anjoii, 1'oura'me^ Maine: 
 Defiring thee to lay afide the fword, 
 Which fways ufurpingly thefe feveral titles ; 
 And put the fame into young Arthur's hand, 
 Thy nephew, and right-royal Sovereign. 
 
 K. John, What follows, if we difallow of this? 
 
 Chat. The proud controul of fierce and bloody war, 
 T' inforce thefe rights Ib forcibly with-held. 
 
 K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood 
 
 for blood, 
 Controulment for controulment ; foanfwer France. 
 
 Chat. Then take my King's defiance from my mouth, 
 The fartheft limit of my embafiie. 
 
 K. John. Bear mine to him, and fo depart in peace. 
 Be thouas lightning in the eyes of France, 
 For ere thou canft report, I will be there, 
 The thunder of my cannon fhail be heard. 
 So, hence ! be thou the trumpet of our wrath, 
 And fullen prefage of your own decay. 
 An honourable conduct let him have, 
 Pembroke, look to'tj farewel, Chatilion. 
 
 [Exeunt Chat, and Pern. 
 
 Eli. What now, my fon, have I not ever faid, 
 How that ambitious Conftance would not ceafe, 
 Till me had kindled France and all the world, 
 Upon the right and party of her fon ? 
 This might have been prevented, and made whole 
 With very eafy arguments of love ; 
 Which now the manage of two kingdoms muft 
 With fearful, bloody, iiTue arbitrate. 
 
 K.Johfi. Our ftrong pofieffion, and our right for us 
 
 Eli. Your ftrong poflefilon much more than your 
 right, 
 
 Or
 
 Kng J 
 
 OHN. 
 
 Or elfe it muft go wrong with you and me ; 
 So much my confciencewhifpers in your ear, 
 Which none but heav'n, and you, and I fhall hear. 
 
 Effex. My Liege, here is the ftrangeft controverfie, 
 Come from the country to be judg'd by you, 
 That e'er I heard : Ihall I produce the men ? 
 
 K. John. Let them approach. 
 Our abbies and our priories fhall pay 
 This expedition's charge - What men are you ? 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Robert Faulconbridge, and Philip, Us Brother, 
 the Baflard. 
 
 Phil. Your faithful fubjecl, I, a gentleman 
 Born in Northampton/hire^ and eldeft fon, 
 As I fuppofe, to Robert Faulconbridge ', 
 A foldier, by the honour-giving hand 
 Of Cceur-de-lion knighted in the field. 
 
 K. John. What art thou ? 
 
 Robert. The fon and heir to that fame Faulconbrulge. 
 
 K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? 
 You carnt: not of one mother then, it feems? 
 
 Phil. Moft certain of one mother, mighty King, 
 That is well known j and, as I think, one father: 
 But for the certain knowledge of that truth, 
 I put you o'er to heav'n, and to my mother ; 
 Of that I doubt, as all mens' children may. 
 
 Eli. Out on thee, rude man ! thou doft fliame thy 
 
 mother, 
 And wound her honour with this diffidence. 
 
 Phil. I, Madam ? no, I have no reafon for it ; 
 That is my brother's plea, and none of mine ; 
 The which if he can prove, he pops me out 
 At lead from fair five hundred pound a year : 
 Heav'n guard my mother's honour, and my land! 
 
 Cc 4 K. John,
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 K, John. A good blunt fellow ; why, being younger 
 
 born, 
 Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? 
 
 Phil. I know not why, except to get the land ; 
 But, once, he flander'd me with baftardy : 
 But whether I be true begot or no, 
 That ftill I lay upon my mother's -head ; 
 But that I am as well begot, my Liege, 
 (Fair fall the bones, that took the pains for me!) 
 Compare our faces, and be judge yourfelf. 
 If old Sir Robert did beget us both, 
 And were our father, and this fon like him ; 
 
 old Sir Robert, father, on my knee 
 
 1 give heav'n thanks, I was not like to thee. 
 
 K. John. Why, what a mad-cap hath heav*n lent 
 us here ? 
 
 Eli. He hath a trick of Caur-de- lion's face, 
 The accent of his tongue affecteth him : 
 Do you not read fome tokens of my fon 
 In the large compofition of this man ? 
 
 K.Jobn. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, 
 And finds them perfect Richard: Sirrah, fpeak, 
 What doth move you to claim your brother's land ? 
 
 Phil. Bccaufe he hath a half-face, like my father, 
 With that half- face would he have all my land ? 
 A half-fac'd groat, five hundred pound a year! 
 
 Rcb. My gracious Liege, when that my father liv'd, 
 Your brother did imploy my father much ; 
 
 Phil. Well, Sir, by this you cannot get my land. 
 Your tale muft be, how he imploy'd my mother. 
 
 Rob. And once difpatch'd him in an embaffie 
 To Germany , there with the Emperor 
 To treat of high affairs touching that time : 
 Th' advantage of his abfence took the King, 
 And in the mean time fojourn'd at my father's ; 
 Where, how he did prevail, I fhame to fpeak : 
 But truth is truth ; large lengths of feas and fhores 
 
 Between
 
 King JOHN. 393 
 
 Between my father and my mother lay, 
 (As I have heard my father fpeak himfelf ) 
 When this fame lufty gentleman was got. 
 Upon his death- bed he by will bequeath'd 
 His lands to me ; and took it on his death, 
 That this, my mother's fon, was none of his ; 
 And if he were, he came into the world 
 Full fourteen weeks before the courfe of time: 
 Then, good my Liege, let me have what is mine, 
 My father's land, as was my father's will. 
 
 K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate ; 
 Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him : 
 And if me did play falfe, the fault was hers ; 
 Which fault lyes on the hazard of all husbands, 
 That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, 
 Who, as you fay, took pains to get this fon, 
 Had of your father claim'd this fon for his ? 
 In footh, good friend, your father might have kept 
 This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world. 
 In footh, he might ; then, if he were my brother's, 
 My brother might not claim him ; nor your father, 
 Being none of his, refufe him ; this concludes, 
 My mother's fon did get your father's heir, 
 Your father's heir muft have your father's land. 
 
 Rob. Shall Tchen my father's Will be of no force 
 To difpoflefs that child, which is not his? 
 
 Phil. Of no more force to difpoflefs me, Sir, 
 Than was his will to get me, as I think. 
 
 Eli. Whether hadft thou rather be a Faideonbr\dge> 
 And, like thy brother, to enjoy thy land: 
 Or the reputed Son of Cceur-de-lion^ 
 * Lord of the prefence, and no land befide ? 
 
 2 Lord of THY prefence, and no land befiJ* ?] Lord of tby pre- 
 fence can fignify only, Mafter of thyfelf; and it is a Itrange ex- 
 preffion to fignify even that. However that he might be, with- 
 out parting with his land. We Ihould read, 
 
 Lord of THE prefence, 
 / e. Prince of the Blood. 
 
 Phil.
 
 394 K*^ JOHN. 
 
 Pbil. Madam, and if my brother had my fliape, 
 And I had his, Sir Robert his, like him ; 
 And if my legs were two fuch riding rods, 
 My arms fuch eel-skins fluff; 3 my face fo thin, 
 4 That in mine ear I durft not flick a rofe, 
 Left men mould fay, " look, where three farthings 
 
 goes! 
 
 " And to his fhape were heir to all this land ;" 
 'Would, I might never ftir from off this place, 
 I'd give it ev'ry foot to have this face : 
 I would not be Sir Nobbe in any cafe. 
 
 Eli. I likethee well ; wilt thou forfake thy fortune, 
 Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me ? 
 I am a foldier, and now bound to France. 
 
 Pbil. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my 
 
 chance ; 
 
 Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, 
 Yet fell your face for five pence, and 'tis dear. 
 Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. 
 
 Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. 
 
 3 ' my face fo thin, 
 
 'Tbat in mine ear I durjl not flick a rofe, 
 Left men Jhould fay, look, tuber e three-farthings goes /] 
 We muft obferve, to explain th:s allufion, that Queen Elizabeth 
 was the firft, and indeed the only Prince who coin'd in England 
 three-halfpence, and three-farthing pieces. She at one and the 
 fame time coin'd (hillings, fixpences, groat<> three-pences, two- 
 pences, three half-pence, pence, three-farthings and half-pence: 
 And thefe pieces all had her head, and were alternately with 
 the Rofe behind, and without the Rofe. The (hilling, groat, two- 
 pence, penny, and half-penny had it not: The other interme- 
 diate coins, o;/, the fix-pence, three-pence, three-half-pence, and 
 three farthings had the Rofe. Mr. Theobald. 
 
 4 That in nine ear / durft not ftick a rofe.] The flicking Rofes 
 about them was then all the court- faftiion, as appears f:om this 
 paflage of the Confeffian Catho!ique du S. de Sancy, 1. 2. c. i. Je 
 luy ay appris a metcre des ROSE s par tout let coins t i. e. in fuery 
 place about him, fays the Speaker, of one to whom he had taught 
 all the court-fafhions. 
 
 Phil.
 
 ring JOHN. 39S 
 
 Phil. Our country manners give our betters way. 
 
 K. John. What is thy name ? 
 
 Phil. Philip, my Liege, fo is my name begun ; 
 Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldeft fon. 
 
 K. John. From henceforth bear his name, whofc 
 
 form thou bear'ft : 
 
 Kneel thou down Philip, but rife up more great ; 
 Arife Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. 
 
 Phil. Brother by th* mother's fide, give me your 
 
 hand ; 
 
 My father gave me honour, yours gave land. 
 Now bleffed be the hour, by night or day, 
 When I was got, Sir Robert was away ! 
 
 Eli. The very fpirit of Plantagenet ! 
 I am thy grandam ; Richard, call me fo. 
 
 Phil. Madam, by chance, but not by truth ; what 
 
 though ? 
 Something about, a little from the right, 
 
 In at the window, or elfe o*er the hatch : 
 Who dares not ftir by day, muft walk by night, 
 
 And have his have, however men do catch ; 
 Near or far off, well won is ftill well mot ; 
 And I am I, howe'er I was begot. 
 
 K. John. Go, Faukonbridge,f\Qvt haft thou thy defire ; 
 A landlefs Knight makes thee a landed 'Squire : 
 Come, Madam ; and come, Richard -, we muft fpeed 
 For France, for France , for it is more than need. 
 
 PbiL Brother, adieu ; good fortune come to thee, 
 For thou was got i'th way of honefty. 
 
 {Exeunt all but Philip. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 A foot of honour better than I was, 
 
 But many a many foot of land the worfe ! 
 
 Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. 
 
 " Good
 
 396 King Jo H K. 
 
 " Good-den, Sir Richard, Godamercy, fellow ; 
 
 " And if his name be George^ I'll call him Peter ; 
 
 " For new-made honour doth forget mens* names : 
 
 " 'Tis too respective and unfociable 
 
 " For your converfing. Now your traveller, 
 
 " He and his tooth-pick at my worfhip's mefs ; 
 
 " And when my knightly ftomach is fuffic'd, 
 
 " Why then I fuck my teeth, and catechife 
 
 " My * piked man of countries ; My dear Sir, 
 
 " (Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin) 
 
 " I {hall befeech you,- that is queftion now ; 
 
 " And then comes anfwer like an ABC-book: 
 " O Sir, fays anfwer, at your beft command, 
 " At your employment, at your fervice, Sir : 
 <c No, Sir, fays queftion, I, fweet Sir, at yours, 
 < c 6 And fo e'er anfwer knows what queftion would, 
 " Saving in dialogue of compliment ; 
 tc And talking of the Alps and Apennines, 
 " The Pyrenean and the river Po ; 
 " It draws towards fupper in conclufion, fo. 
 
 But 
 
 5 Piked man,'] i. e. formally bearded. Mr. Pope. 
 
 6 And fo eer answer kno-jos 'what queftion ivould, 
 
 SAVING in dialogue of compliment. \ In this fine fpeech, Faul- 
 tonbridge would fhew the advantages and prerogatives of men of 
 tuorjhip. He obferves, particularly, that be has the Traveller at 
 command; (people at that time, when a new world was difcover- 
 ing, in the higheil eftimation) At the firft intimation of his defire, 
 to hear ftrange {lories, the Traveller complies, and will fcarce give 
 him leave to make his queftion, but e'er anfiver knows <wbat quef- 
 rioa would What then, why, according to the prefent reading, 
 it grows towards fupper-time : And is not this <worjkipful fociety ? 
 To fpend all the time between dinner and fupper before either of 
 them knows what the other would be at. Read SERVING inftead 
 of Saving, and all this nonfenfe is avoided ; and the account ftands 
 thus, " E'er anfwer knows what queftion would be at, my travel- 
 *' let fer^es in bis dialogue of compliment, which is his {landing 
 " difh at all tables ; then he comes to talk of the Alps and Ape- 
 " nines, &c. and, by the time this difcourfe concludes, it draws 
 
 " towards,
 
 King JOHN. 297 
 
 " But this is worfhipful fociety, 
 And fits the mounting fpirit like myfelf: 
 For he is but a baftard to the time, 
 That doth not fmack of obfervation ; 
 [ 7 And fo am I, whether I fmack or no:] 
 And not alone in habit and device, 
 Exterior form, outward accoutrement ; 
 But from the inward motion to deliver 
 Sweet, fweet, fweet poifon for the age's tooth 5 
 Which tho* I will not pra&ifc to deceive, 
 Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn ; 
 For it (hall ftrew the footfteps of my rifing. 
 But who comes in fuch hafte, in riding robes ? 
 What woman-poft is this ? hath me no husband, 
 That will take pains to blow a horn before her? 
 O me! it is my mother ; now, good lady, 
 What brings you here to court fo haftily ? 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Lady Faulconbridge, and James Gurney. 
 
 Lady. Where is that (lave, thy brother, where is he, 
 That holds in chafe mine honour up and down ? 
 
 Phil. My brother Robert t old Sir Robert's fon, 
 Colbrand the giant, that fame mighty man, 
 Is it Sir Robert's fon, that you feek fo ? 
 
 " towards fupper." All this is fenfible and humorous ; and the 
 phrafe of/erving in is a very pleafant one to denote that this was 
 his worfhip's fecond courfe. What follows (hews the romantic turn 
 of the voyagers of that time ; how greedily their relations were 
 fwallowed, which he calls facet poifon for the age" t tooth ; and 
 how acceptable it made men at court For it jhall flreiu the 
 
 footftepi of my ri/ing. And yet the Oxford Editor fays, by this 
 
 Jkveet poifon is meant flattery. 
 
 7 Andfo am /, whetbtr J fmack or no.] A nonfenfical line of the 
 Players. 
 
 Lady.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Lady. Sir Robert's fon ? ay, thou unrev'rend boy, 
 Sir Robert's fon : why fcorn'ft thou at Sir Robert ? 
 He is Sir Robert's fon ; and fo art thou. 
 
 Phil. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while ? 
 
 Gur. Good leave, good Philip. 
 
 Phil. P&#/>/ fpareme, ?** ; 
 
 There's toys abroad ; anon I'll tell thee more. 
 
 [Exit James. 
 
 Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's fon, 
 Sir Robert might have eat his part in me 
 Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his faft : 
 Sir Robert could do well , marry, confefs ! 
 Could he get me ? Sir Robert could not do it ; 
 We knew his handy-work ; therefore, good mother, 
 To whom am I beholden for thefe limbs? 
 Sir Robert never holpe to make this leg. 
 
 Lady. Haft thou confpir'd with thy brother too, 
 That, for thine own gain, fhould'ft defend mine honour ? 
 What means this fcorn, thou mod untoward knave? 
 
 Phil. 9 Knight, Knight, good mother Bafilifco 
 
 like. 
 
 What ! I am dub'd ; I have it on my fhoulder : 
 But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's fon ; 
 I have difclaim'd Sir Robert^ and my land ; 
 Legitimation, name, and all is gone: 
 Then, good my mother, let me know my father ; 
 Some proper man, I hopej who was it, mother? 
 
 8 Philip, fparrow, James. ] I think the Poet wrote, 
 
 Philip! J'pare me, James. 
 
 i. e. don't affront me with an appellation that comes from a Fa- 
 mily which I difclaim. 
 
 9 Knight, Knight, good mother Bafilifco like ] The words al- 
 lude to an expreflion in an old foolifh play, then the common but 
 of ridicule. But the beauty of the palTage confifts in his allud- 
 ing, at the fame time, to his high original. His father, Richard 
 tbefrjl, was furnamed Cceur-de -lion. And the Cor Leonis, a fixed 
 (lar of the firft magnitude, in the fign Leo, is called Bajilifco. 
 
 Lady.
 
 King J o H K. 399 
 
 Lady. Haft thou deny'd thy felf a Faulconbridge . ? 
 
 Phil. As faithfully, as I deny the devil. 
 
 Lady. King Richard C&ur-de-lion was thy father ; 
 By long, and vehement fuit, I was feduc'd 
 To make room for him in my husband's bed. 
 Heav'n lay not my tranfgreflion to my charge ! 
 Thou art the iflue of my dear offence, 
 Which was fo ftrongly urg'd paft my defence. 
 
 Phil. Now, by this light, were I to get again, 
 Madam, I would not wifii a better father. 
 Some fins do bear their privilege on earth, 
 And fo doth yours ; your fault was not your folly ; 
 Needs muft you lay your heart at his difpole, 
 Subjected tribute to commanding love ; 
 Againft whofe fury, and unmatched force, 
 The awlefs lion could not wage the fight ; 
 Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hands. 
 He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts, 
 May eafily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, 
 With all my heart, I thank thee for my father. 
 Who lives and dares but fay, thou didft not well 
 When I was got, I'll fend his foul to hell. 
 Come, lady, I will mew thee to my kin, 
 
 And they mail fay, when Richard me begot, 
 If thou hadft faid him nay, it had been fin ; 
 
 Who fays, it was, he lyes j I fay, 'twas not. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT
 
 King JOHN. 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Before the Walls of Anglers in France. 
 
 Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, the 
 Archduke of Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur. 
 
 B 
 
 LEWIS. 
 
 E F O R E Anglers well met, brave Auftria. 
 Arthur ! that great fore-runner of thy blood 
 
 Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart, 
 And fought the holy wars in Paleftine, 
 By this brave Duke came early to his grave : 
 And for amends to his pofterity, 
 At our importance hither is he come, 
 To fpread his colours, boy, in thy behalf; 
 And to rebuke the usurpation 
 Of thy unnatural uncle, Englijh John. 
 Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. 
 Arth. God mail forgive you Cceur-de- lion's death 
 The rather, that you give his off-fpring life ; 
 Shadowing their right under your wings of war. 
 I give you welcome with a pow'rlefs hand, 
 But with a heart full of unftained love : 
 Welcome before the gates of Anglers^ Duke. 
 
 Lewis. A noble boy ! who would not do thee right 
 Auft. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kifs, 
 As feal to this indenture of my love ; 
 That to my home I will no more return, 
 Till Anglers and the right thou haft in France^ 
 Together with that pale, that white-fac'd more, 
 Whofe foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides, 
 And coops from other lands her iflanders ; 
 Ev'n till that England, hedg'd in with the main, 
 That water- walled bulwark, ftill fecure 
 
 And
 
 King JOHN. 401 
 
 And confident from foreign purpofes, 
 Ev'n till that outmoft corner of the weft, 
 Salute thee for her King. Till then, fair boy, 
 Will I not think of home, but follow arms. 
 
 Conft. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, 
 Till your ftronghand fhallhelp to give him ftrength, 
 To make a more requital to your love. 
 
 Auft. The peace of heav*n is theirs, who lift their 
 
 fwords 
 In fuch a juft and charitable war. 
 
 K. Philip, Well then, to work ; our engines (hall 
 
 be bent 
 
 Againft the brows of this refitting town ; 
 Call for ourchiefeft men ofdifcipline, 
 To cull the plots of beft advantages. 
 We'll lay before this town our royal bones, 
 Wade to the market-place in French-men? blood, 
 But we will make it fubject to this boy. 
 
 Conft. Stay for an anfwer to your Embaffie, 
 Left unadvis'd you ftain your fwords with blood. 
 My lord Chatilion may from England bring 
 That right in peace, which here we urge in war ; 
 And then we (hall repent each drop of blood, 
 That hot ram hafte fo indirectly fhed. 
 
 Enter Chatilion. 
 
 K. Philip. A wonder, lady ! lo, upon thy wi(h 
 Our mefienger Chatilion is arrived ; 
 What England fays, fay briefly, gentle lord, 
 We coldly paufe for thee. Chatilion, fpeak. 
 
 Chat. Then turn your forces from this paultry fiege, 
 And ftir them up againft a mightier task. 
 England^ impatient of your juft demands. 
 Hath put himfelf in arms; the adverfe winds, 
 Whole leiiure I have ftaid, have giv'n him time 
 To land his legions all as foon as I. 
 His marches are expedient to this town, 
 
 VOL. III. Pd His
 
 4C2 King JOHN. 
 
 His forces ftrong, his foldiers confident. 
 
 With him J J!!ong is come the mother-Queen , 
 
 An Ate, ftirring him to blood and ftrife. 
 
 With her, her neice, the lady Blanch of 
 
 With them a baflard of the King deceas'd, 
 
 And all th' unfettled humours of the land j 
 
 Raft, inconfid'rate, fiery voluntaries, 
 
 With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' fpleens, 
 
 Have fold their fortunes at their native homes, 
 
 Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, 
 
 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. 
 
 In brief, a braver choice of dauntlefs fpirits, 
 
 Than now the Englijh bottoms have waft o'er, 
 
 Did never float upon the fwelling tide, 
 
 To do offence and fcathe in chriftendom. 
 
 The interruption of their churlifh drums [Drums beat. 
 
 Cuts off more circumftance ; they are at hand. 
 
 To parly, or to fig',it, therefore prepare. 
 
 K. Philip. How much unlook'd for is this ex- 
 pedition ! 
 
 Auft. By how much unexpected, by fo much 
 We mud awake endeavour for defence ; 
 For courage mounteth with occafion : 
 Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter King o/England, Faulconbridge, Elinor, Blanch, 
 Pembroke, and others. 
 
 K. John. Peace be to France, if France in peace 
 
 permit 
 
 Our juft and lineal entrance to our own : 
 If not, bleed France, and peace afcend to heav'n. 
 Whilft we, God's wrathful agent, do correct 
 Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heav'n. 
 
 K. Philip. Peace be to England, if that war return 
 From France to England, there to Jive in peace! 
 
 England 

 
 King JOHN. 403 
 
 England we love ; and for that England's fake 
 With burthen of our armour here we fwer*- j 
 This toil of ours mould be a work of thine. 
 But thou from loving England art fo far, 
 That thou haft under-wrought its lawful King ; 
 Cut off the fequence of pofterity; 
 Out-faced infant ftate j and done a rape 
 Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. 
 Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face. 
 Thefe eyes, thefe brows, were moulded out of his j 
 This little abftracl: doth contain that brge, 
 Which dy'd in Geffrey ; and the hand of time 
 Shall draw this brief into as large a volume. 
 That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, 
 And this his fon ; England was Geffrey^ righr, 
 And this is Geffrey^ ; in the name of God, 
 How comes it then, that thou art call'd a King, 
 When living blood doth in thefe temples beat, 
 Which own the crown that thou o'er- mattered ? 
 
 K. John. From whom haft thou this great commif- 
 
 fion, France , 
 To draw my anfwer to thy articles ? 
 
 K. Philip. From that fupernal judge, that ftirsgood 
 
 thoughts 
 
 In any breaft of ftrong authority, 
 To look into the bolts and ftains of right. 
 That judge hath made me guardian to this boy ; 
 Under whofe warrant I impeach thy wrong, 
 And by whofe help I mean to chaftife it. 
 
 K. John. Alack, thou doft ufurp authority. 
 
 K. Philip. Excufe it, 'tis to beat ufurping down. 
 
 Eli. Who is't, that thou doft call ufurper, France ? 
 
 Conft. Let me make anfwer: thy ufurping fon.' 
 
 Eli. Out, infoJent ! thy baftard mall be King, 
 That thou may'ft be a Queen, and check the world! 
 
 Conft. My bed was ever to thy fon as true, 
 As thine was to thy husband ; and this boy, 
 
 Dd 2 Lflcer
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Liker in feature to his father Geffrey, 
 
 Than thou and John^ in manners being as like 
 
 As rain to water, or devil to his dam. 
 
 My boy a baftard! by my foul, I think, 
 
 His father never was, fo true- begot ; 
 
 It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. 
 
 Eli. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. 
 Conft. There's a good grandam, boy, that would 
 blot thee. 
 
 Auft. Peace 
 
 Faulc. Hear the crier. 
 Aujl. What the devil art thou ? 
 Faulc. One that will play the devil, Sir, with you, 
 An a'may catch your hide and you alone. 
 You are the hare, of whom the proverb goes, 
 Whofe valour plucks dead Lions by the beard; 
 I'll fmoak your skin-coat, an I catch you right j 
 Sirrah, look to't ; i'faith, 1 will, i* faith. 
 
 Blanch. O, well did he become that Lion's robe, 
 That did difrobe the Lion of that robe. 
 
 Faulc. It lyes as fightly on the back of him, 
 As great A/rides' * mews upon an afs ; 
 But, afs, 1*11 take that burthen from your back, 
 Or lay on that, mall make your fhoulders crack. 
 
 Auft. What cracker is this fame, that deafs our ears 
 With this abundance of fuperfluous breath ? 
 King Philip, determine what we mall do ftrait. 
 K. Philip. Women and fools, break off your con* 
 
 ference. 
 
 King John, this is the very fum of all , 
 England^ and Ireland, Anjou, I'ouraine, Maine, 
 In right of Arthur I do claim of thee: 
 Wilt thou refign them, and lay down thy arms ? 
 
 K. John. My life as foon. I do defie thee, France . 
 Arthur of Britain, yield thee to my hand ; 
 And out of my dear love I'll give thee more, 
 
 l Sbwos] Spelt right by Mr. Theobald. 
 
 Than
 
 King JOHN. 405 
 
 Than e'er the coward- hand of France can win. 
 Submit thee, boy. 
 
 Eli. Come to thy grandam, child. 
 
 Conft. Do, child, go to it grandam, child. 
 Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will 
 Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig , 
 There's a good grandam. 
 
 Arth. Good my mother, peace ; 
 I would, that I were low laid in my grave; 
 I am not worth this coil, that's made for me. 
 
 Eli. His mother (harries him fo, poor boy, he weeps. 
 
 Conft. Now fhame upon you, whe're me does or no ! 
 His grandam's wrong, and not his mother's fhames, 
 Draws thofe heav'n- moving pearls from his poor eyes, 
 Which heav'n (hall take in nature of a fee : 
 Ay, with thefe cryftal beads heav'n ihall be brib'd 
 To do him juftice, and revenge on you. 
 
 Eli. Thou monftrous flanderer of heav'n and earth ! 
 
 Conft. Thou monftrous injurer of heav'n and earth ! 
 Call me not flanderer ; thou, and thine, ufurp 
 The domination, royalties and rights 
 Of this opprefled boy ; this is thy eldeft fon's fon. 
 Infortunate in nothing but in thee : 
 Thy fins are vifited in this poor child ; 
 The canon of the law is laid on him , 
 Being but the fecond generation 
 Removed from thy fin-conceiving womb. 
 
 K. John. Bedlam, have done. 
 
 Conft. I have but this to fay, 
 That he is not only plagued for her fin, 
 But God hath made her fin and her the plague 
 On this removed iffue, plagu'd for her, 
 And with her plague her fin ; his injury, 
 Her injury, the beadle to her fin, 
 All punifh'd in the perfon of this child, 
 And all for her, a plague upon her! 
 
 Eli. Thou unadvis'd fcold, I can produce 
 
 Dd 3 A
 
 Khig ] 
 
 O H N. 
 
 A will, that bars the title of thy Ton. 
 
 Conft f Ay, who doubts that ? a will ! a wicked will ; 
 A woman's will, a cankred grandam's will. 
 
 K. Phil. Peace, Lady ; paufe, or be more temperate : 
 It ill befeems this prefence to cry Aim 
 To thefe ill-tuned repetitions. 
 Some trumpet fummon hither to the walls 
 Thefe men of Anglers ; let us hear them fpeak, 
 Whofe title they admit, Arthur's or John's. 
 
 [Trumpet founds* 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter a Citizen upon the Walls. 
 
 Cit. Who is.it, that hath warn'd us to the walls? 
 
 K. Philip. 'Tis France , fa? England. 
 
 K.John. England for itfelf , 
 You men of Anglers and my loving fubjects 
 
 K. Philip. You loving men of Anglers^ Arthur** 
 
 fubjeds, 
 Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle 
 
 K. John. For our advantage ; therefore hear us firft : 
 Thefe flags of France, that are advanced here 
 Before the eye and profpect of your town, 
 Have hither march'd to your endamagement. 
 The cannons have their bowels full of wrath 5 
 And ready mounted are they to fpit forth 
 Their iron indignation 'gainft your walls : 
 All preparations for a bloody fiege 
 And mercilefs proceeding, by thefe French, 
 Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates ; 
 And, but for our approach, thofe fleeping ftones, 
 That as a wafte do girdle you about, 
 By the compulfion of their ordinance 
 By this time from their fixed beds of lime 
 Had been dimabited, and wide havock made 
 For bloody power to rufh upon your peace. 
 
 But
 
 King JOHN. 407 
 
 But on the fight of us your lawful King, 
 (Who painfully with much expedient march 
 Have brought a counter- check before your gates, 
 To fave unfcratch'd your city's threatned checks) 
 Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchfafe a parle ; 
 And now, inftead of bullets wrap'd in fire, 
 To make a making fever in your walls, 
 They moot but calm words folded up in fmoak, 
 To make a laithlefs error in your ears ; 
 Which truft accordingly, kind citizens ; 
 And let in us, your King, whofe laboured fpirits, 
 Fore-weary'd in this action of fwift fpeed, 
 Crave harbourage within your city-walls. 
 
 K. Philip. When I have faid, make anfwer to us 
 
 both. 
 
 Lo ! in this right hand, whofe protection 
 Is mod divinely vow'd upon the right 
 Of him it holds, {lands young Plantagenet ; 
 Son to the elder brother of this man, 
 And King o'er him, and all that he enjoys. 
 For this down-trodden equity, we tread 
 In warlike march thefe greens before your town : 
 Being no further enemy to you, 
 Than the conftraint of bofpitable zeal, 
 In the relief of this opprefled child, 
 Religioufly provokes. Be pleafed then 
 To pay that duty, which you truly owe 
 To him that owns it ; namely, this young prince. 
 And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, 
 Save in afpecl, hath all offence feal'd up: 
 Our cannons' malice vainly mall be fpent 
 Againft th' invulnerable clouds of heav'n ; 
 And with a blefled, and unvext retire, 
 With unhack'd fwords, and helmets all unbruis'd, 
 We will bear home that lufty blood again, 
 Which here we came to fpout againft your town ; 
 And leave your children, wives, and you in peace. 
 
 D d 4 Bus
 
 408 King JOHN. 
 
 But if you fondly pafs our proffer'd offer, 
 
 'Tis not the rounder of your old-fac'd walls \ 
 
 Can hide you from our mefiengers of war : 
 
 Tho* all thefe EngTifl^ and their difcipline, 
 
 Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. 
 
 Then tell us, mall your city call us lord, 
 
 In that behalf which we have challeng'd it? 
 
 Or fhall we give the fignal to our rage, 
 
 And ftalk in blood to our pofTcflion ? 
 
 Cit. In brief, we are the King of England? s fubje&s; 
 For him, and in his right, we hold this town. 
 
 K. John. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in. 
 
 Cit. That can we not; but he that proves the 
 
 King, 
 
 To him will we prove loyal i 'till that time, 
 Have we ramm'd up our gates againft the world. 
 
 K. John. Doth not the crown of England prove 
 
 the King? 
 
 And if not that, I bring you witnefles, 
 Twice fifteen thoufand hearts of England's breed 
 
 Faulc. (Baftards, and clfc.) 
 
 K. John. To verify our title with their lives. 
 
 K. IPbiUp. As many, and as well-born bloods as 
 thofe 
 
 Faulc. (Some baflards too.) 
 
 K. Philip. Stand in his face to contradict his claim. 
 
 Cit. Till you compound, whofe right is worthieft, 
 We for the worthieft hold the right from both. 
 
 K. John. Then God forgive the fin of all thofe 
 
 fouls, 
 
 That to their everlafting refidence, 
 Before the dew of evening fall, fhall fleet, 
 IB dreadful tryal of our kingdom's King ! 
 
 K. Philip. Amsn^ Amen. Mount chevaliers, to 
 
 arms ! 
 
 Faulc. Saint George that fwing'd the dragon, and 
 e'er fince 
 
 Sits
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Sits on his horfeback at mine hoftefs* door, 
 
 Teach us fome fence. Sirrah, were I at home 
 
 At your den, firrah, with your Lionefs, 
 
 I'd fet an ox- head to your Lion's hide, 
 
 And make a monfter of you. [*To Auilria. 
 
 Auft. Peace, no more. 
 
 Faulc. O, tremble ; for you hear the Lion roar. 
 
 K. John. Up higher to the plain, where we'll fee 
 
 forth 
 In beft appointment all our regiments. 
 
 Faulc. Speed then to take th' advantage of the field. 
 
 K. Philip. It (hall be fo ; and at the other hill 
 Command the reft to ftand. God, and our right! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 A long Charge founded : then, after excurfions, enter tie 
 Herald of France with trumpets to the gates. 
 
 F. Her. You men of Anglers, open wide your gates, 
 And let young Arthur Duke of Bretagne in ; 
 Who by the hand of France this day hath made 
 Much work for tears in many an Englijh mother, 
 Whofe fons lye fcatter'd on the bleeding ground : 
 .And many a widow's husband groveling lies, 
 Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth ; 
 While vidory with little lofs doth play 
 Upon the dancing banners of the French ; 
 Who are at hand triumphantly difplay'd, 
 To enter conquerors ; and to proclaim 
 Arthur of Bretagne, England's King, and yours, 
 
 Enter Englifh Herald with Trumpets. 
 JS. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angers ; ring your 
 
 bells ; 
 
 King John, your King &nd England's, doth approach, 
 Commander of this hot malicious day. 
 
 Their
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Their armours, that march'd hence fo fi I ver- bright, 
 
 Hither return all gilt in Frenchmen? blood. 
 
 There ftruck no plume in any Englijh Creft, 
 
 Tiiat is removed by a ftaffof France. 
 
 Our Colours do return in thofe fame hands ; 
 
 That did difplay them, when we firft march'd forth ; 
 
 And, like a jolly troop of huntfmen, come 
 
 6ur lufty Englijh, all with purpled hands ; 
 
 Dy'd in the dying (laughter of their foes. 
 
 Open your gates, and give the viftors way. 
 
 Cif Heralds, from off our tow'rs we might behold, 
 From firft to laft, the Onfet and Retire 
 Of both your armies, whofe equality 
 By our belt eyes cannot be cenfured ; 
 Blood hath bought blood, and blows have anfwer'd 
 
 blows ; 
 Strength match'd with ftrength, and power confronted 
 
 power. 
 
 Both are alike, and both alike we like ; 
 One muft prove greateft. "While they weigh fo even, 
 We hold our town for neither; yet for both. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter tie two Kings with their Powers, at federal 
 
 Doors. 
 K. John. France, haft thou yet more blood to cad 
 
 away ? 
 
 Say, fhall the current of our Right run on ? 
 Whole paflage, vext with thy impediment, 
 Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-fwell 
 With courfe difturb'd ev'n thy confining fhores; 
 Unlefs thou let his filver water keep 
 A peaceful progrefs to the ocean. 
 
 K. Philip. England^ thou haft not fav*d one drop 
 
 of blood 
 Jn this hot tryal, more than we of France , 
 
 Rather
 
 King JOHN. 411 
 
 Rather loft more. And by this hand I fvvcar, 
 
 That fways the earth this climate overlooks, 
 
 Before we will lay by our juft-borne arms, 
 
 We'll put thee down, 'gainit whom thefe arms we bear ; 
 
 Or add a royal number to the dead 5 
 
 Gracing the fcroul, that tells of this war's lofs, 
 
 With (laughter coupled to the name of Kings. 
 
 Faulc. Ha! Majefty, how high thy glory towers, 
 When the rich blood of Kings is fet on fire ! 
 Oh, now doth Death line his dead chaps with fteel ; 
 The fwords of foldiers are his teeth, his phangs i 
 And now he feafts, mouthing the flem of men 
 In undetermined differences of Kings. 
 Why (land thefe royal Fronts amazed thus ? 
 Cry havock, Kings ; back to the ftained field, 
 You equal Potents, fiery-kindled fpirits! 
 Then let Confufion of one part confirm 
 The other's peace ; till then, blows, blood, and death. 
 
 K. John. Whofe party do the townfmen yet admit? 
 
 K. Philip. Speak, Citizens, for England, who's your 
 King? 
 
 Cit. The King of England^ when we know the 
 King? 
 
 K. Philip. Know him in us, that here hold up his 
 Right. 
 
 K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, 
 And bear poflefilon of our perfon here ; 
 Lord of our prefence, Anglers^ and of you. 
 
 Cit. * A greater pow'r, than ye, denies all thijj 
 And till it be undoubted, we do lock 
 Our former fcruple in our ftrong-barr'd gates. 
 Kings are our fears, until our fears refolv'd 
 
 2 A greater }onur t than WE, denies all thin 
 
 Kings OF our fears, ] We fhould read than ye. What 
 
 power was this ? their fears. It is plain therefore we fhould read 
 Kings are our fears, 
 
 i. e. our fears arc the Kings which at prefent rule iw. 
 
 B?
 
 412 King JOHN. 
 
 Be by fome certain King purg'd and dcpos*d. 
 
 Faulc. By heav'n, the Scroyles of Angler* flout you, 
 
 Kings, 
 
 And (land fecurely on their battlements, 
 As in a Theatre, whence they gape and point 
 At your induftrious Scenes and Acts of death, 
 You royal prefences, be rul'd by me ; 
 Do like' the Mutines of Jerufakm, 
 Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend 
 Your fharpeft deeds of malice on this town. 
 By eaft and weft let France and England mount 
 Their batt'ring cannon charged to the mouths ; 
 Till their foul-fearing clamours have braul'd down 
 The flinty ribs of this contemptuous City. 
 I'd play incefifantly upon thefe jades i 
 Even till unfenced defolation 
 Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. 
 That done, diflever your united ftrengths, 
 And part your mingled Colours once again ; 
 Turn face to face, and bloody point to point. 
 Then in a moment fortune mall cull forth 
 Out of one fide her happy minion ; 
 To whom in favour me fhall give the day, 
 And kifs him with a glorious Victory. 
 How like you this wild counfel, mighty States ? 
 Smacks it not fomething of the Policy ? 
 
 K. Jdon. Now by the sky, that hangs above our 
 
 heads, 
 
 I like it well. France^ fhall we knit our Pow'rs, 
 And lay this Anglers even with the ground, 
 Then, after, fight who mail be King of it? 
 
 Faulc. And if thou haft the mettle of a King, 
 Being wrong'd as we are by tiiis peevifh town, 
 Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, 
 As we will ours, againft thefe fawcy walls ; 
 And when that we have dafh'd them to the ground, 
 Why, then defie each other ; and, pell-mell, 
 
 Make
 
 King JOHN. 413 
 
 Make work upon ourfelves for heav'n or hell. 
 K. Philip. Let it be fo ; fay, where will youafiault? 
 K. John. We from the weft will fend deftruction 
 Into this City's bofom. 
 Auft. I from the north. 
 K. Philip. Our thunder from the fouth 
 Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. 
 
 Fade. O prudent difcipline ! from North to South ; 
 Auftria and France moot in each other's mouth. 
 I'll ftir them to it ; come, away, away ! 
 
 Ctt. Hear us, great Kings ; vouchfafe a while to 
 
 flay, 
 
 And I mall {hew you peace, and fair-fac'd league ; 
 Win you this city without ftroak or wound ; 
 Refcue thofe breathing lives to die in beds, 
 That here come facrifices for the field ; 
 Perfever not, but hear me, mighty .Kings. 
 
 K. John. Speak on, with favour ; we are bent to 
 
 hear. 
 
 Gt. That daughter there of Spain, the lady Blancb, 
 Is near to England ; look upon the years 
 Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid. 
 If lufty love mould go in queft of beauty, 
 Where mould he find it fairer than in Blanch f 
 If zealous love mould go in fearch of virtue, 
 Where mould he find it purer than in Blancb ? 
 If love, ambitious, fought a match of Birth, 
 Whofe veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch* 
 Such as me is, in beauty, virtue, birth, 
 Is the young Dauphin every way compleat : 
 If not compleat, (a) oh fay, he is not me; 
 And me again wants nothing, (to name Want,) 
 If Want it be not, that me is not he. 
 He is the half part of a blefied man, 
 Left to be finiflied by fuoh a She: 
 And flie a fair divided Excellence, 
 ri a \ ok. Oxford Editor Vulg. of.} 
 
 Whofc
 
 414 Kwg JOHN. 
 
 Whofe fulnefs of perfection lies in him. 
 
 Oh! two fuch filver currents, when they join, 
 
 Do glorifie the banks that bound them in : 
 
 And two fuch mores, to two fuch dreams made one, 
 
 Two fuch controlling bounds fhall you be, Kings, 
 
 To thefe two -Princes, if you marry them. 
 
 This union fhall do more than battery can, 
 
 To our faft-clofed gates : for at this match, 
 
 With fwifter Spleen than Powder can enforce, 
 
 The mouth of pafiage fhall we fling wide ope, 
 
 And give you entrance ; but without this match, 
 
 The lea enraged is not half fo deaf, 
 
 Lions fo confident, mountains and rocks 
 
 So free from motion ; no, not death himfelf 
 
 In mortal fury half fo peremptory, 
 
 As we to keep this City. 
 
 Faulc. Here's a flay, 
 
 That (hakes the rotten carcafs of old Death 
 Out of his rags. Here's a large mouth, indeed, 
 That fpits forth death, and mountains, rocks and feas ; 
 Talks as familiarly of roaring Lions, 
 As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs. 
 What Cannoneer begot this lufty blood? 
 He fpeaks plain cannon- fire, and fmoak and bounce, 
 He gives the baftinado with his tongue: 
 Our ears are cudgel'd ; not a word of his, 
 But buffets better than a fifl of France ; 
 Zounds ! I was never fo bethumpt with words, 
 Since I fir ft call'd my brother's father dad,, 
 
 Eli. Son, lift to this conjunction, make this match, 
 Give with our Neice a dowry large enough 5 
 For by this knot thou malt fo furely tie 
 Thy now unfur'd afifurance to the Crown, 
 That yon green boy fhall have no Sun to ripe 
 The bloom, that promifeth a mighty fruit. 
 I fee a Yielding in the looks of France ; 
 Mark, how they whifper ; urge them, while their fouls 
 
 Are
 
 King J o H N, 
 
 Are capable of this ambition ; 
 Left zeal now melted by the windy breath 
 Of foft petitions, pity and remorfe, 
 Cool and congeal again to what it was. 
 
 Cit. Why anfwer not the double Majefties 
 This friendly Treaty of our threaten'd town ? 
 K. Philip. Speak, England, firft, that hath been 
 
 forward firft 
 To fpeak unto this City : what fay you ? 
 
 K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy Princely fon, 
 Can in this book of beauty read, Hove; 
 Her dowry fhall weigh equal with a Queen. 
 For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine^ Poi^liers^ 
 And all that we upon this fide the fea, 
 Except this City now by us befieg'd, 
 Find liable to our Crown and Dignity, 
 Shall gild her bridal bed ; and make her rich 
 In titles, honours, and promotions; 
 As {he in beauty, education, blood, 
 Holds hand with any Princefs of the world. 
 K. Philip. What fay 'ft thou, boy? look in the lady's 
 
 face. 
 
 Lewis. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find 
 A wonder, or a wondrous miracle; 
 The fhadow of myfelf form'd in her eye ; 
 Which, being but the lhadow of your fon, 
 Becomes a Sun, and makes your fon a lhadow. 
 I do proteft, I never lov'd myfelf, 
 Till now, infixed, I beheld myfelf, 
 Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye. 
 
 \Wbiftering with Blanch. 
 Faulc. Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye! 
 Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ! 
 And quarter'd in her heart! he doth efpie 
 
 Himfelf love's traitor : this is pity now, 
 That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there (hould be, 
 In fuch a Love, fo vile a lout as he. 
 
 Blancb.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Blanch. My uncle's will in this refpeft is mine. 
 If he fee aught in you, that makes him like, 
 That any thing he fees, which moves his liking, 
 I can with eafe tranflate it to my will : 
 Or if you will, to fpeak more properly, 
 I will enforce it eafily to my love. 
 Further I will not flatter you, my lord, 
 That all I fee in you is worthy love, 
 Than this , that nothing do I fee in you, 
 (Though churli/h thoughts themfelves fhould be your 
 
 judge) 
 That I can find mould merit any hate. 
 
 K. John. What fay thefe young Ones ? what fay you, 
 
 my Neice? 
 
 Blanch. That me is bound in Honour dill to do 
 What you in wifdom ftill vouchfafe to fay. 
 
 K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love 
 
 this lady? 
 
 Lewis. Nay, ask me, if I can refrain from love ~ 9 
 For I do love her moft unfeignedly. 
 
 K. John. Then do I gwtVolqueffen, Touraine, Maine, 
 Poiffiers, and Anjou> thefe five Provinces, 
 With her to thee ; and this addition more, 
 Full thirty thoufand Marks of Englijh coin. 
 Philip of France^ if thou be pleas'd withal, 
 Command thy Son and Daughter to join hands. 
 K. Philip. It likes us well ; young Princes, clofe 
 
 your hands. 
 
 Auft. And your lips too ; for, I am well aflur'd, 
 Thar I did fo, when I was firft aflur'd. 
 
 K. Philip. Now, Citizens tfAngiers, ope your gates, 
 Let in that amity which you have made: 
 For at Saint Mary's Chapel prefently 
 The Rights of Marriage fhall be folemniz'd. 
 Is not the lady Conjlatue in this troop ? 
 I know, me is not; for this Match made up 
 Her prefence would have interrupted much. 
 
 Where
 
 Where is (he and her fon, tell me, who knows? 
 
 Lewis. She's fad and pafilonate at your Highnefs* 
 Tent. 
 
 K. Philip. And, by my faith, this league, that we 
 
 have made, 
 
 Will give her fadnefs very little Cure. 
 Brother of England^ how may we content 
 This widow lady ? in her Right we came ; 
 Which we, God knows, have, turn'd another way 
 To our own vantage. 
 
 K.Jobn. We will heal up all, 
 For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Britain* 
 And Earl of Richmond \ and this rich fair town 
 We make him lord of. Call the lady Conjl*nce- t 
 Some fpeedy MefTenger bid her repair 
 To our Solemnity: I truft, we mall, 
 If not fill up the meafure of her will, 
 Yet in fome meafure fatisfie her fo, 
 That we mall (lop her exclamation. 
 Go we, as well as hafte will fuffer us, 
 To this unlook'd-for, unprepared, Pomp. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Faulconbridge. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Fauk. Mad world, mad Kings, mad compofition! 
 John, to flop Arthur's Title in the whole, 
 Hath willingly departed with a part: 
 And France^ whofe armour Confcience buckled on, 
 Whom Zeal and Charity brought to the field, 
 As God's own foldier, rounded in the ear 
 With that fame purpofe-changer, that fly devil, 
 That broker, that ftill breaks the pate of faith, 
 That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, 
 Of Kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, 
 Who having no external thing to lofe 
 But the word Maid, cheats the poor maid of that ; 
 
 VOL. III. Ee That
 
 4i 8 King JOHN. 
 
 That fmooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling Commodity, 
 
 Commodity, the biafs of the world, 
 
 ' The world, which of itfelf is poifed well, 
 
 * Made to run even, upon even ground ; 
 
 " Till this advantage, this vile-drawing biafs, 
 
 " This fway of motion, this Commodity, 
 
 " Makes it take head from all indifferency, 
 
 " From all direction, purpofe, courfe, intent. 
 
 And this fame biafs, this Commodity, 
 
 This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, 
 
 ClapL on the outward eye of fickle France, 
 
 Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid, 
 
 From a refolv'd and honourable war, 
 
 To a moft bafe and vile-concluded peace. 
 
 And why rail I on this Commodity? 
 
 But for becaufe he hath not wooed me yet : 
 
 Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, 
 
 When his fair angels would falute my palm ; 
 
 But that my hand, as unattempted yet, 
 
 Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. 
 
 Well, while I am a beggar, I will rail ; 
 
 And. fay, there is no fin but to be rich : 
 
 And being rich, my virtue then {hall be, 
 
 To fay, there is no vice, but beggary. 
 
 Since Kings break faith upon commodity, 
 
 Gain, be my lord ; for I will worfhip thee ! [Exit. 
 
 ACT
 
 King JOHN. 4,9 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 T^he French King's Pavilion. 
 Enter Conftance, Arthur, and Salisbury. 
 
 CONSTANCE. 
 
 GO N E to be marry'd! gone to fwear a peace! 
 Falfe blood to falfe blood join'd ! Gone to be 
 
 friends ! 
 
 Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch thofe provinces ? 
 It is not fo, thou haft mif-fpoke, mif-heard ; 
 Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again, 
 It cannot be ; thou doft but fay, 'tis fo. 
 I truft, I may not truft thee; for thy word 
 Is but the vain breath of a common man : 
 Believe me, I do not believe thee, man ; 
 I have a King's oath to the contrary. 
 Thou malt be punifh'd for thus frighting me, 
 For I am fick, and capable of fears ; 
 Oppreft with wrongs, and therefore full of fears: 
 A widow, husbandlefs, fubject to fears ; 
 A woman, naturally born to fears, 
 And, tho' thou now confefs thou didft but jeft, 
 With my vext fpirits I cannot take a truce, 
 But they will quake and tremble all this day. 
 What doft thou mean by making of thy head ? 
 Why doft thou look fo fadly on my fon? 
 What means that hand upon that breaft of thine ? 
 Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, 
 Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ? 
 Be thele fad fighs confirmers of rhy words ? 
 Then fpeak again, not all thy former tale, 
 But this one word, whether thy tale be true. 
 
 Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them falfe, 
 That give you .caufe to prove my faying true. 
 
 Ee 2 Confl.
 
 420 King JOHN. 
 
 Conft. Oh, if thou teach me to believe this forrow, 
 Teach thou this forrow how to make me die ; 
 And let belief and life encounter fo, 
 As doth the fury of two defp'rate men, 
 Which in the very meeting, fall and die, 
 Lewis wed Blanch! O boy, then where art thou? 
 France friend with England! what becomes of me? 
 Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy fight : 
 This news hath made thee a moft ugly man. 
 
 Sal. What other harm have 1, good lady, done, 
 But fpoke the harm that is by others done ? 
 
 Conft. Which harm within itfelf fo heinous is, 
 As it makes harmful all that fpeak of it. 
 
 Artb I do befeech you, mother, be content. 
 
 Conft. " If thou, that bidft me be content, were 
 
 grim, 
 
 *' Ugly, and fland'rous to thy mother's womb, 
 " Full of unpleafing blots, and fightlefs ftains, 
 " Lame, foolifh, crooked, fwart, prodigious, 
 " Patched with foul moles, and eye-offending marks; 
 " I would not care, I then would be content : 
 " For then 1 mould not love thee: no, nor thou 
 " Become thy great birth, nor deferve a crown. 
 " But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy ! 
 *' Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great. 
 " Of nature's gifts thou may'ft with lillies boaft, 
 " And with the half-blown rofe." But fortune, oh ! 
 She is corrupted, chang'd, and, won from thee, 
 Adulterates hourly with thine uncle John j 
 And with her golden hand hath pluckt on France 
 To tread down fair refpecl: of fovereignty, 
 And made his majefty the bawd to theirs. 
 France is a bawd to fortune, and to John ; 
 That ftrumpet fortune, that ufurping John ! 
 Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forfworn ? 
 Envenom him with words ; or get thee gone, 
 And leave thefe woes alone, which I alone 
 
 Am
 
 King JOHN. 42I 
 
 Am bound to undcr-bear. 
 
 Sal. Pardon me, Madam, 
 I may not go without you to the Kings. 
 
 Conft. Thou may'ft, thou malt, I will not go with 
 
 thee. 
 
 I will inftruct my forrows to be proud ; 
 For Grief is proud, and makes his owner (a} flout. 
 To me, and to the State of my great Grief, 
 Let Kings aflemble : for my Grief's fo great, 
 That no Supporter but the huge firm earth 
 Can hold it up : Here I and Sorrow fit : 
 Here is my Throne, bid Kings come bow to it. 
 
 [Sits down on tbe floor. 
 
 , SCENE II. 
 
 Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, 
 Faulconbridge, and Auftria. 
 
 K. Philip. 'Tis true, fair daughter ; and this blefied 
 
 day 
 
 Ever in France fliall be kept feftival : 
 To folemnize this day, the glorious fun 
 Stays in his courfe, and plays the alchymift , 
 Turning with fplendor of his precious eye 
 The meagre cloddy earth to glitt'ring gold. 
 The yearly courfe, that brings this day about, 
 Shall never fte it, but a holy-day. 
 
 Conft. A wicked day, and not an holy-day. 
 
 What hath this day deferv'd ? what hath it done, 
 That it in golden letter fhould be fet 
 Among the high tides in the kalendar? 
 Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, 
 This day of fhame, oppreflion, perjury : 
 Or, if it muft (land ftill, let wives with child 
 
 [ (a) Jtout. Oxford Editor - Vulg. 
 
 E e 3 Pray,
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Pray, that their burthens may not fall this day, 
 Left that their hopes prodigioufly be croft : 
 But on this day, let feamen fear no wreck ; 
 No bargains break, that are not this day made ; 
 This day, all things begun come to ill end, 
 Yea, faith itfelf to hollow falhood change ! 
 
 K. Philip. By heaven, lady, you mall have nocaufe 
 To curfe the fair proceedings of this day : 
 Have I not pawn'd to you my Majefty ? 
 
 Conft. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit 
 Refembling Majefty, which, touch'd and try'd, 
 Proves valuelefs : you are forfworn, forfworn, 
 You -came in arms to fpill my enemies blood, 
 But now in arms, you ftrengthen it with yours. 
 The grapling vigour, and rough frown of war, 
 Is cold in amity and painted peace, 
 And our oppreflion hath made up this league : 
 Arm, arm, ye heav'ns, againft thefe perjur'd Kings ; 
 A widow cries, be husband to me, heav'n \ 
 Let not the hours of this ungodly day 
 Wear out the day in peace ; but ere fun-fet. 
 Set armed difcord 'twixt thefe perjur'd Kings. 
 Hear me, oh, hear me ! 
 
 Aufl. Lady Conjlame^ peace. 
 
 Conft. War, war, no peace ; peace is to me a war. 
 O Lymoges, O Auftria ! thou doft fhame 
 That bloody fpoil: thou flave, thou wretch, thou 
 
 coward, 
 
 Thou little valiant, great in villany ! 
 Thou ever ftrong upon the ftronger fide ; 
 Thou fortune's champion, that doft never fight 
 But when her humourous ladyfhip is by 
 To teach thee fafety ! thou art perjur'd too, 
 And footh'ft up greatnefs. What a fool art thou, 
 A ramping fool, to brag, to ftamp, and fwear, 
 Upon my party ; thou cold-blooded flave, 
 Haft thou not fpoke like thunder on my fide ? 
 
 Been
 
 JOHN. 423 
 
 Been fworn my foldier, bidding me depend 
 Upon thy ftars, thy fortune, and thy ftrength? 
 And doft thou now fall over to my foes? 
 Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for fhame. 
 And hang a calve's-skin on thofe recreant limbs. 
 
 Auft. O, that a man would fpeak thofe words to me ! 
 
 Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on thofe recreant 
 limbs. 
 
 Auft. Thou dar'ft not fay fo, villain, for thy life. 
 
 Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on thofe recreant 
 limbs. 
 
 ' Auft. ' Methinks, that Richard's pride and Ri- 
 chard's fall 
 * Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir. 
 
 * Faulc. What words are thefe? how do my finevvs 
 fhake ! 
 
 My father's foe clad in my father's fpoil ! 
 
 How doth Alefto whifper in my ears, 
 
 Delay not, Richard^ kill the villain ftrait ; 
 
 Difrobe him of the matchlefs monument, 
 
 Thy father's triumph o'er the favages. 
 
 Now by his foul I fwear, my father's foul, 
 
 Twice will I not review the morning's rife, 
 
 Till I have torn that trophy from thy back ; 
 
 And fplit thy heart, for wearing it fo long. 
 
 K. John. We like not this, thou doft forget thyfelf. 
 
 I Methinks, that Richard'* pride &c.] What was the ground 
 of this quarrel of the Baftard to Auflria is no where fpecify'd in 
 the prefent play : nor is there in this place, or the fcene where it is 
 rlrlt hinted at (namely the fecond of Aft 2 ) the leaft mention of 
 any reafon for it. But the ftory is, that Aujlria, who kill'd King 
 Richard Ctxur -de-lion, wore as the fpoil of that Prince, a lion's 
 hide which had belonged to him. This circumftance renders the 
 anger of the Baftard very natural, and ought not to have been 
 emitted. In the firft sketch of this play (which Shakejpear is faid 
 to have had a hand in, jointly with William Rowley) we accord- 
 ingly find this infilled upon, and 1 have ventured to place a few of 
 thofe verfes here. Mr. Pope. 
 
 Ee 4 SCENE
 
 424 King JOHN. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Pandulph. 
 
 K. Philip. Here comes the holy Legate of the PopCv 
 
 Pand. Hail, you anointed Deputies of heav'n ! 
 To thee, King John, my holy errand is ; 
 I Pandulpb, of fair Milain Cardinal, 
 And from Pope Innocent the Legate here, 
 Do in his name religioufly demand 
 Why thou againft the Church, our holy Mother, 
 So wilfully doft fpurn, and force perforce 
 Keep Stephen Langton^ chofen Archbilhop 
 Of Canterbury, from that holy See? 
 This in our 'forfaid holy Father's name, 
 Pope Innocent^ I do demand of thee. 
 
 K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories 
 Can task the free breath of a facred King ? 
 Thou canft not, Cardinal, devife a name 
 So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous, 
 To charge me to an anfwer, as the Pope. 
 Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England 
 Add thus much more, that no Italian pried 
 Shall tithe or toll in our dominions: 
 But as we under heav'n are fupreme head, 
 So, under him, that great Supremacy, 
 Where we do reign, we will alone uphold j 
 Without th* afiiftance of a mortal hand. 
 So tell the Pope, all rev'rence let apart 
 To him and his ufurp'd authority. 
 
 K. Philip. Brother of England^ you blalpheme in 
 this. [dom 
 
 K. John. Tho' you and all the Kings of Chnften- 
 Are led fo grofly by this medling Prieft, 
 Dreading the curfe, that mony may buy out ; 
 And buy the merit of vile gold, drofs, dull, 
 Eurchafe corrupted pardon of a man, 
 
 Who
 
 King JOHN, 425 
 
 Who in that fale fells pardon from himfelf: 
 Tho* you, and all the reft, fo groQy led, 
 This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherifh ; 
 Yet I alone, alone, do me oppofe 
 Againft the Pope, and count his friends my foes. 
 
 Pand. Then by the lawful power that I have, 
 Thou (halt ftand curft, and excommunicate ; 
 And blefied mall he be, that doth revolt 
 From his allegiance to an heretick ; 
 And meritorious (hall that hand be call'd. 
 Canonized and worfliipp'd as a Saint, 
 That takes away by any fecret courfe 
 Thy hateful life. 
 
 Conft. O, lawful let it be, 
 That I have room with Rome to curfe a while. 
 Good father Cardinal, cry thou, Amen^ 
 To my keen curfes j for without my wrong 
 There is no tongue hath power to curfe him right. 
 
 Pand. There's law, and warrant, lady, for my curfe. 
 
 Conft. And for mine too j when law can do no right, 
 Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong : 
 Law cannot give my child his kingdom here; 
 For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law j 
 Therefore, fmce law itfelf is perfect wrong, 
 How can the law forbid my tongue to curfe ? 
 
 Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curfe, 
 Let go the hand of that arch-heretick ; 
 And raife the pow'r of France upon his head, 
 Unlefs he do fubmit himfelf to Rome. 
 
 Eli. Look'ft thou pale, France? do not let go thy 
 hand. 
 
 Conft. Look to that, devil ! left that France repent, 
 And, by difjoining hands, hell lofe a foul. 
 
 4uft. King Philip^ liften to the Cardinal. 
 
 Faulc. And hang a calve's skin on his recreant limbs. 
 
 duft. Well, ruffian, I mud pocket up thefe wrongs, 
 
 Becaufe . 
 
 Faulc.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Faulc. Your breeches beft may carry them. 
 K. John. Philip^ what fay'ft thou to the Cardinal ? 
 Confl. What mould he fay, but as the Cardinal? 
 Lewis. Bethink you, father ; for the difference 
 Is purchafe of a heavy curfe from Rome, 
 Or the light lofs of England for a friend ; 
 Forgo the eafier. 
 
 Blanch. That's the curfe of Rome. 
 Conft. Lewis, ftand faft j the Devil tempts thee here 
 In likenefs of * a new untrimmed bride. 
 
 Blanch. The lady Con/lance fpeaks not from her faith ; 
 But from her need. 
 
 Conft. Oh, if thou grant my need, 
 Which only lives but by the death of faith, 
 That need muft needs infer this principle, 
 That faith would live again by death of need : 
 O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up , 
 Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. 
 K. John. The King is mov'd, and anfwers not to 
 
 this. 
 
 Conft. O, be remov'd from him, and anfwer well. 
 Aiift. Do fo, King Philip ; hang no more in doubt. 
 Faulc. Hang nothing but a calve's-skin, mod fweet 
 
 lout. 
 
 K. Philip. I am perplext, and know not what to fay. 
 Pand. What can'ft thou fay, but will perplex thee 
 
 more, 
 If thou ftand excommunicate and curft ? 
 
 K. Philip. Good rev'rend father, make my perfon 
 
 yours ; 
 And tell me, how you would beflow yourfelf. 
 
 2 a enu tintrimmed bride.] Mr. Theobald fays, that as un- 
 trimmed cannot bear any fignjjicationto fquare with thefenfe required, 
 it muft be corrupt; therefore he will cafhier it, and read, and 
 trimmed-, in which be is followed by the Oxford Editor ; but they 
 are both too haily. It fquares very well with the fenfe, and figni- 
 fies unjleady. The term is taken frotn Navigation. We fay too, 
 in a fimilar way of fpeaking, not ivell manned. 
 
 This
 
 King JOHN. 427 
 
 This royal hand and mine are newly knit, 
 
 And the conjunction of our inward fouls 
 
 Marry'd in league, coupled and link'd together 
 
 With all religious ftrength of facred vows : 
 
 The lateft breath, that gave the found of words, 
 
 Was deep-fworn faith, peace, amity, true love, 
 
 Between our kingdoms and our royal Selves. 
 
 And even before this truce, but new before, 
 
 No longer than we well could wafh our hands 
 
 To clap this royal bargain up of peace, 
 
 Heav'n knows, they were befmear'd and over-ftain'd 
 
 With (laughter's pencil ; where revenge did paint 
 
 The fearful difference of incenfed Kings. 
 
 And fhall thefe hands, fb lately purg'd of blood, 
 
 So newly join'd in love, fo ftrong in both, 
 
 Unyoke this feizure, and this kind regreet ? 
 
 Play fall and loofe with faith ? fo, jeft with heav'n ? 
 
 Make fuch unconftant children of ourfelves, 
 
 As now again to fnatch our palm from palm? 
 
 Un-fwear faith fworn, and on the marriage-bed 
 
 Of fmiling peace to march a bloody hoft, 
 
 And make a riot on the gentle brow 
 
 Of true fincerity ? O holy Sir, 
 
 My reverend father, let it not be fo ; 
 
 Out of your grace, devife, ordain, impofe 
 
 Some gentle order, and we mall be bleft 
 
 To do your pleafure, and continue friends. 
 
 Pand. All form is formlefs, order orderlefs, 
 Save what is oppofite to England's love. 
 Therefore, to arms! be champion of our Church! 
 Or let the Church our mother breathe her curfe, 
 A mother's curfe on her revoking fon. 
 France, thou may'ft hold a ferpent by the tongue, 
 A chafed lyon by the mortal paw, 
 A fading tyger fafer by the tooth, 
 Than keep in peace that hand, which thou doft 
 hold. 
 
 K. Philip.
 
 428 King JOHN. 
 
 K. Philip. I may disjoin my hand, but not my 
 faith. 
 
 Pand. So mak'ft thou faith an enemy to faith ; 
 And, like a civil war, fet'ft oath to oath, 
 Thy tongue againft thy tongue. O, let thy vow 
 Firft made to heav'n, firft be to heav'n perform'd ; 
 That is, to be the champion of our Church. 
 What fince thou fwor'ft, is fworn againft thyfelf; 
 And may not be performed by thyfelf. 
 For that which thou haft fworn to do amifs, 
 * Is yet amifs, when it is truly done: 
 And being not done, where doing tends to ill, 
 The truth is then moft done, not doing it. 
 The better act of purpofes miftook 
 Is to miftake again ; tho* indirect, 
 Yet indirection thereby grows direct, 
 And falfliood falfliood cures ; as fire cools fire, 
 Within the fcorched veins of one new-burn'd. 
 It is religion that doth make vows kept, 
 4 But thou haft fworn againft religion: 
 By what thou fwear'ft, againft the thing thou fwear'ft : 
 And mak'ft an oath the furety for thy truth, 
 
 Againft an oath the truth thou art unfure 
 
 To fwear, fwear only not to be for fworn ; 
 
 3 // NOT amifs, <v:hen it is truly done :] This is a conclufion 
 ie trovers. We fliould read, 
 
 Is YET amifs, 
 
 The Oxford Editor, according to his ufual cuftora, will improve it 
 further, and reads, moft atai/s. 
 
 4 Bui thou haft /ivoi n agatnjl religion : &c.] In this long fpeech, 
 the Legate is made to (hew his skill in cafuiltry ; and the itrange 
 heap of quibble and nonfenfe of which it con fills, was intended 
 to ridicule that of the fchool. For when he tiTumcb the politi- 
 cian,, at the conclufion of the third aft, the author makes him talk 
 at another rate. I mean in that beautiful paffage where he fpeaks 
 of the mifchiefs following the King's lofs of his fubjefts hearts. 
 This conduct is remarkable, and was intended, I fuppofe, to fhew 
 us how much better politicians the Roman courtiers are, than di- 
 vines. 
 
 Elfc
 
 Kiftg JOHN. 429 
 
 Elfe what a mockery mould ft be to fwcar? 
 
 But thou doft Iwear, only to be forfworn, 
 
 And mod forfworn, to keep what thou doft fwtar. 
 
 Therefore thy latter vows, againft thy firft, 
 
 Is in thyfelf rebellion to thyfelf. 
 
 And better conqueft never canft thou make, 
 
 Than arm thy conftant and thy nobler parts 
 
 Againft thefe giddy, loofe fuggeftions : 
 
 Upon which better part, our pray'rs come in, 
 
 Jf thou vouchfafe them. But if not, then know, 
 
 The peril of our curfes light on thee 
 
 So heavy, as thou (halt not (hake them off; 
 
 But, in defpair, die under their black weight. 
 
 Aitfl. Rebellion, flat rebellion. 
 
 Faulc. Will'c not be ? 
 Will not a calve's-skin Hop that mouth of thine? 
 
 Lewis. Father, to arms. 
 
 Blancb. Upon thy wedding-day ? 
 Againft the blood that thou haft married ? 
 What, fhall our feaft be kept with flaughter'd men? 
 Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlifh drums, 
 Clamours of hell, be meafures to our pomp? 
 O husband, hear me; (ah! alack, how new 
 Is husband in my mouth ?) ev'n for that name, 
 Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, 
 Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms 
 Againft mine uncle. 
 
 Conft. O, upon my knee, 
 Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, 
 Thou virtuous Dauphin^ alter not the doom 
 Forethought by heav'n. 
 
 Blanch. Now fhall I fee thy love , what motive may 
 Be ftronger with thee than the name of wife ? 
 
 Conft. That which upholdeth him, that thee up- 
 holds, 
 
 His honour. Oh, thine honour, Lewis, thine ho- 
 nour ! 
 
 Lewi;.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Lewis. I mufe your Majefty doth feem fo cold, 
 \V hen fuch profound refpedb do pull you on ? 
 Pand. I will denounce a curfe upon his head. 
 K. Philip. Thou fhalt not need. England, I'll fall 
 
 from thee. 
 
 Conft. O fair return of banifh'd Majefty ! 
 Eli. O foul revolt of French inconftancy ! 
 K.John. France, thou fhalt rue this hour within 
 
 this hour. 
 
 Faulc. Old time the clock-fetter, that bald fexton time, 
 Is it, as he will ? well then, France lhall rue. 
 
 Blanch. The fun's o'ercaft with blood : fair day, adieu ! 
 Which is the fide that I muft go withal ? 
 I am with both, each army hath a hand, 
 And in their rage, I having hold of both, 
 They whirl afunder, and difmember me. 
 Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'ft win : 
 Uncle, I needs muft pray that thou may*ft lofe : 
 Father, I may not wifh the fortune thine : 
 Grandam, I will not wifh thy wimes thrive: 
 "Whoever wins, on that fide mail I lofe : 
 Allured lofs, before the match be play'd. 
 
 Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. 
 Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my 
 
 life dies. 
 K. John. Coufin, go draw our puifiance together. 
 
 [_Exit Faulconbridge. 
 
 France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath, 
 A rage, whofe heat hath this condition 
 That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, 
 The blood, and deareft-valu'd blood of France. 
 K. Philip. Thy rage fhall burn thee up, and thou 
 
 fhalt turn 
 
 To afhes, ere our blood fhall quench that fire : 
 Look to thyfelf, thou art in jeopardy. 
 K. John. No more, than he that threats. To arms, 
 let's hie. \Exemt. 
 
 SCENE
 
 King JOHN. 431 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Changes to a Field of Battle. 
 
 Alarms, Excurfions : Enter Faulconbridge, with 
 Auftria'j Head. 
 
 Fauk. XT O W, by my life, this day grows won- 
 
 i/N d'roushot; 
 5 Some fiery devil hovers in the sky, 
 And pours down mifchief. Auftria's head lie there. 
 Thus hath King Richard's fon perform'd his vow. 
 And offer'd Auftriafs blood for facrifice 
 Unto his father's ever-living foul. 
 
 Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert. 
 
 K. John. There, Hubert? keep this boy. Richard* 
 
 make up ; 
 
 My mother is afiailed in our tent, 
 And ta'en, I fear. 
 
 Faulc. My lord, I refcu'd her : 
 Her highnefs is in fafety, fear you not. 
 But on, my Liege , for very little pains 
 Will bring this labour to an happy end. [Exeunt 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Alarms* Excurfions^ Retreat. Re-enter King John, 
 Elinor, Arthur, Faulconbridge, Hubert, and Lords, 
 
 K.Jobn. So mall it bej your Grace fhall flay be- 
 hind 
 So ftrongly guarded : Coufin, look not fad, 
 
 [jCo Arthur. 
 Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will 
 
 5 Some airy devil ] We muft read, Some fiery devil, if 
 
 we will have the caufe equal to the effeft. 
 
 As
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 As dear be to thee, as thy father was. 
 
 Arth. O this will make my mother die with grief, 
 
 K.Jobn. Coufin away for England; hafte before, 
 
 [To Faulconbridge. 
 
 And, ere our coming, fee thou make the bags 
 Of hoarding Abbots ; their imprifon*d angels 
 Set thou at liberty : 6 the fat ribs of peace 
 Muft by the hungry war be fed upon. 
 Ufe our commiflion in its utmoft force. 
 
 Faulc. Bell, book, and candle mail not drive me 
 
 back, 
 
 When gold and filver beck me to come on. 
 I leave your highnefs: grandam, I will pray 
 (If ever I remember to be holy) 
 For your fair fafety j fo I kifs your hand. 
 
 Eli. Farewel, my gentle coufin. 
 
 K. John. Coz, fare we). [Exit Faulc. 
 
 Eli. Come hither, little kinfman ; hark, a word. 
 [Taking him to one fide of the ft age* 
 
 K. John, [to Hubert on the other fide. 
 Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert, 
 We owe thee much 5 within this wall of flefh 
 There is a foul counts thee her creditor, 
 And with advantage means to pay thy Jove : 
 And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath 
 Lives in this bofom, dearly cherimed. 
 
 Give me thy hand, I had a thing to fay 
 
 But 1 will fit it with fome better time. 
 By heaven, Hubert , I'm almoft amam'd 
 To fay what good refpect I have of thee. 
 
 6 the fat rils of peace 
 
 Muft by the hungry now be fed upon.] The word KOVJ Teems an 
 idle term here. The anthhefis, and oppoiition of terms, fo perpe- 
 tual with our author, fhews we fhould read, 
 Muft ly the hungry war be fed upon. 
 
 War, demanding a large expence, is very poetically iaid to be 
 hungry, and to prey on the wealth and/i/ of peace. 
 
 Hub.
 
 King ] o H N. 433 
 
 Hub. I am much bounden to your Majcfty. 
 
 K. John. Good friend, thou haft no caufc to fay fo 
 
 yet,- 
 
 But thou (halt have and creep time ne'er fo flow, 
 Yet it mall come for me to do thee good. 
 I had a thing to fay but, let it go : 
 The fun is in the heav'n, and the proud day, 
 Attended with the pleafures of the world, 
 Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, 
 To give me audience. If the midnight bell 
 Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth 
 7 Sound one unto the drowfie race of night ; 
 If this fame were a church-yard where we ftand, 
 And thou poflefTed with a thoufand wrongs j 
 Or if that furly fpirit Melancholy 
 Had bak*d thy blood and made it heavy-thick, 
 Which elfe runs tickling up and down the veins, 
 Making that ideot laughter keep mens* eyes, 
 And ftrain their cheeks to idle merriment > 
 (A paffion hateful to my purpofes) 
 Or if that thou could ft fee me without eyes, 
 Hear me without thine ears, and make reply 
 Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone, 
 Without eyes, ears, and harmful found of words ; 
 Then, in defpight of broad-ey'd watchful day, 
 I would into thy bofom pour my thoughts: 
 But ah, I will not " yet I love thee well 5 
 
 And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'ft me well. 
 Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake^ 
 
 Tho* that my death were adjunct to my act, 
 
 By heav'n, I'd do't. 
 
 K. John. Do not I know, thou would'ft ? 
 
 Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye 
 
 On yon young boy : I'll tell thee what, my friend * 
 
 He is a very ferpent in my way, 
 
 7 Sound ON unto the droiufie race of night \\ We fhculd read, 
 Sound ONE i i .. 
 
 VOL. III. Ff And,
 
 434 &ng JOHN. 
 
 And, wherefoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, 
 He lyes before me. Doft thou underftand me? 
 Thou art his keeper. 
 
 Hub. And PJ1 keep him fo, 
 That he fhall not offend your Majefty. 
 
 K. John. Death. 
 
 Hub. My lord ? 
 
 K. John. A grave. 
 
 Hub. He fhall not live. 
 
 K. John. Enough. 
 
 I could be merry now. Hubert , I love thee ; 
 Well, I'll not fay what I intend for thee: 
 Remember: Madam, fare you well. 
 
 [Returning to the Queen. 
 I'll fend thofe pow'rs o'er to your Majefty. 
 
 Eli. My bldfing go with thee ! 
 
 K. John. For England, coufin, go. 
 Hubert fhall be your man, t'attend on you 
 With all true duty ; on, toward Calais, ho! [Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to the French Court. 
 
 Enter King Philip, Lewis, Pandulpho, and Attendants; 
 
 K. Philip. CO, by a roaring tempefl on the flood, 
 O 8 A whole Armado of colleded fail 
 Is fcatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowihip. 
 
 8 A whole Armado, &c,] This fimilitude, as little as it mak 
 for the purpofe in hand, was, I do not queftion, a very taking one 
 when the play was firft reprefented ; which was a winter or two at 
 moft, after the Spani/b invafion in 1 588. It was in reference like- 
 wife to that glorious period that Shakefpear concludes his play in 
 that triumphant manner. 
 
 Thus England never did t nor nruer foall 
 
 Lye at the proud foot of a conqueror, &C. 
 
 But the whole play abounds with touches relative to the then pofture 
 of affairs. 
 
 Pand.
 
 King JOHN. 43-5 
 
 Pand. Courage arid comfort, all fhall yet go well. 
 
 K. Philip. What can go well, when we have run 
 
 fb ill ? 
 
 Are we not beaten ? Is not Angiers loft ? 
 Arthur ta'en Pris'ner? diverfe dear friends flain? 
 And bloody England into England gone, 
 O'er-bearing interruption, fpite of France ? 
 
 Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortify'd : 
 So hot a fpeed with fuch advice difpos'd, 
 Such temp'rate order 9 in fo fierce a courfe, 
 Doth want example ; who hath read, or heard, 
 Of any kindred action like to this ? 
 
 K. Philip. Well could I bear that England had this 
 
 praife, 
 So we could find fome pattern of our fhame. 
 
 Enter Conftance. 
 
 Look, who comes here ? a grave unto a foul, 
 
 Holding th* eternal fpirit 'gainft her will 
 
 In the vile prifon of afflicted breath ; 
 
 I pr'ythee, lady, go away with me. 
 
 Con/}. Lo, now, now fee the iffueof your peace.- 
 K. Philip. Patience, good lady ; comfort, gentle 
 
 Conftance. 
 Conft. No, I defie all counfel, and redrefs, 
 
 But that* which ends all counfel, true redrefs, 
 
 Death, death -, oh amiable, lovely death ! 
 
 Thou odoriferous flench, found rottennefs, 
 
 Arife forth from thy couch of lading night, 
 
 Thou hate and terror to profperity, 
 
 And I will kifs thy deteftable bones ; 
 
 And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows ; 
 
 And ring thefe fingers with thy houfhold worms i 
 
 And flop this gap of breath with fulfome duft, 
 
 And be a carrion monfter, like thyfelf ; 
 
 9 in fo fitrce a CAVSE,] We fhould read COURSE, 
 
 i. e. march. The Qjcford Editor condefcends to this emendation. 
 
 F f 2 Come,
 
 436 King JOHN. 
 
 Come, grin on me, and I will think thou fmil'ft a 
 And kiis thee as thy wife ; mifery's love, 
 O come to me ! 
 
 K. Philip. O fair affliction, peace. 
 
 Coxft. No, no, [ will not, having breath to cry 
 O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth, 
 Then with a paflion I would fhake the world, 
 And rouze from deep that fell anatomy, 
 Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, 
 And fcorns a modern invocation. 
 
 Pand. Lady, you utter madnefs, and not forrow* 
 
 Conft. Thou art not holy to belie me fo; 
 I am not mad ; this hair I tear is mine ; 
 My name is Conjlance^ I was Geffrey** wife: 
 Young Arthur is my fon, and he is Joft f 
 1 am not mad ; I would to heaven, I were ! 
 For then 'tis like, I mould forget myfelf. 
 Oh, if I could, what grief mould I forget ! 
 Preach fome philofophy to make me mad, 
 And thou (halt be canoniz'd, Cardinal. 
 For, being not mad, but fenfible of grief, 
 My reafonable part produces reafon 
 How I may be deliver'd of thefe woes, 
 And teaches me to kill or hang myfelf. 
 If I were mad, I mould forget my fon, 
 Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he : 
 I am not mad ; too well, too well I feel 
 The different plague of each calamity. 
 
 K. Philip. Bind up thofe trcfles ; O, what love I 
 
 note 
 
 In the fair multitude of thofe her hairs ; 
 Where but by chance a filver drop hath fall'n, 
 Ev'n to that drop ten thoufand wiery friends 
 Do glew themfelves in fociable grief; 
 Like true, infeparable, faithful loves, 
 Sticking together in calamity. 
 Conft. To England, if you will. 
 
 K. Philip.
 
 King JOHN. 437 
 
 K. Philip. Bind up your hairs. 
 
 Con/I. Yes, chat I will ; and wherefore will I do it? 
 I tore them from their bonds, and cry'd aloud, 
 O, that thefe hands could fo redeem my fon, 
 As they have giv'n thefe hairs their liberty ! 
 But now I envy at their liberty, 
 And will again commit them to their bonds ; 
 Bccaufe my poor child is a prifoner, 
 And, father Cardinal, I have heard you fay, 
 That we fhall fee and know our friends in heav'n ; 
 If that be, I fhall fee my boy again. 
 For fmce the birth of Cain, the firft male-child, 
 To him that did but yefterday fufpire, 
 There was not fuch a gracious creature born. 
 But now will canker forrow eat my bud, 
 And chafe the native beauty from his cheek ; 
 And he will look as hollow as a ghoft ; 
 As dim and meagre as an ague's fit ; 
 And fo he'll die: and, rifing fo again, 
 When I fhall meet him in the court of heav'n 
 I fhall not know him ; therefore never, never, 
 Muft I behold my pretty Arthur more, 
 
 Pand. You hold too heinous a refpecT: of grief. 
 
 Conft. He talks to me, that never had a fon. 
 
 K. Philip. You are as fond of grief, as of your child. 
 
 Conft. Grief fills the room up of my abfent child 5 
 Lyes in his bed, walks up and down with me; 
 Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
 Remembers me of all his gracious parts ; 
 Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form 5 
 Then have I reafon to be fond of grief. 
 Fare you well ; had you fuch a lofs as I, 
 I could give better comfort than you do. 
 I will not keep this form upon my head, 
 
 [fearing of her bead-deaths. 
 When there is fuch diforder in my wit. 
 O lord, my boy, my Arthur^ my fair fon \ 
 
 F f 3 My
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! 
 My widow-comfort, and my forrow's cure ! [Exit. 
 K. Philip. I fear fome outrage, and I'll follow her. 
 
 [#, 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Lewis. There's nothing in this world can make me 
 
 joy* 
 
 * Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, 
 
 ' Vexing the dull ear of a drowfie man.' 
 
 A bitter mame hath fpoilt the fweet world's tafte, 
 
 That it yields nought but fhame and bitternefs. 
 
 Pand. Before the curing of a ftrong difeafe, 
 Ev'n in the inftant of repair and health, 
 The fit is ftrongeft : evils that take leave, 
 On their departure, moft of all mew evil. 
 What have you loft by lofing of this day ? 
 
 Lewis. All days of glory, joy, and happinefs. 
 
 Pand. If you had won it, certainly, you had. 
 No, no , when fortune means to men moft good, 
 She looks upon them with a threatening eye. 
 'Tis ftrange to think how much King John hath loft 
 In this, which he accounts fo clearly won. 
 Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prifoner? 
 
 Lewis. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him. 
 
 Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. 
 Now hear me fpeak with a prophetick fpirit j 
 For ev'n the breath of what I mean to fpeak 
 Shall blow each duft, each ftraw, each little rub, 
 Out of the path which fhall directly lead 
 Thy foot to England's throne : and therefore mark. 
 'John hath feiz'd Arthur., and it cannot be 
 That whilft warm life plays in that infant's veins, 
 The mifplac'd John fhould entertain an hour, 
 A minute, nay, one quiet breath, of reft. 
 A fcepter, fnatch'd with an unruly hand, 
 Muft be as boift'roufly maintain'd, as gain'd. 
 
 And
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 '* And he, that ftands upon a flippr'y place, 
 " Makes nice of no vile hold to Itay him up." 
 That John may ftand, then Arthur needs muft fall j 
 So be if, for it cannot be but fo. 
 
 Lewis. But what fhaJl I gain by young Arthur's 
 fall ? 
 
 Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your wife, 
 May then make all the claim that Arthur did. 
 
 Lewis. And lofe it, life and all, as Arthur did. 
 
 Pand. How green you are, and freih in this old 
 
 world ? 
 
 John lays you plots; the times confpire with you; 
 For he, that fteeps his fafety in true blood, 
 Shall find but bloody fafety and untrue. 
 " This aft, fo evilly born, fhall cool the hearts 
 " Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal j 
 " That no fo fmall advantage fhall ftep forth 
 ** To check his reign, but they will cherifh it. 
 " No nat'ral exhalation in the sky, 
 " ' No 'fcape of nature, no diftemper'd day, 
 " No common wind, no cu itemed event, 
 " But they will pluck away its nat'ral caule, 
 " And call them meteors, prodigies, and figns, 
 <c Abortives, and prefages, tongues of heav'n 
 <c Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.''* 
 
 Lewis. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's 
 
 life ; 
 But hold himfelf fafe in his prifonment. 
 
 Pand. O Sir, when he fhall hear of your approach, 
 If that young Arthur be not gone already. 
 Ev'n at this news he dies: and then the hearts 
 Of all his people fhall revolt from him, 
 
 I No 'fcape of nature, ~\ The author very finely calls a man- 
 Jtrous birth, an efcapt of nature. As if it were produced while Ihe 
 was bufy elfewhere* or intent on fome other thing. But the Ox- 
 ford Editor will have it, that Sbakefpear wrote, 
 Na Jbape of nature. 
 
 Ff 4 And
 
 Kmg J 
 
 O H N. 
 
 And kifs the lips of unacquainted change ; 
 And pick flrong matter of revolt and wrath, 
 Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. 
 Methinks, I fee this hurly all on foot ; 
 And O, what better matter breeds for you 
 
 Than I have nam'd ! The baftard Faulconlridge 
 
 Is now in England, ranfacking the church, 
 Offending charity. If but twelve French 
 Were there in arms, they would be as a call 
 To train ten thoufand Englijh to their fide ; 
 Or, as a little fnow, tumbled about, 
 Anon becomes a mountain. Noble Dauphin ; 
 Go with me to the King : 'tis wonderful 
 What may be wrought out of their difcontent. 
 Now that their fouls are top-full of offence, 
 For England go ; I will whet on the King. 
 
 Lewis. Strong reafon makes ftrong actions : let us go; 
 If you fay ay^ the King will not fay no. [Exeunt, 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE L 
 
 Changes to ENGLAND. 
 A PRISON. 
 
 Enter Hubert and Executioners. 
 
 HUBERT. 
 
 HE AT me thefe irons hot, and, look, thou ftand 
 Within the arras \ when I ftrike my foot 
 Upon the bofom of the ground, rufh forth -, 
 And bind the boy, which you (hall find with me, 
 Faft to the chair : be heedful ; hence, and watch. 
 Exe. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. 
 
 Hub.
 
 King JOHN. 441 
 
 Hub. Uncleanly fcruples ! fear not you ; look to't. 
 Young lad, come forth ; I have to lay with you. 
 
 Enter Arthur* 
 
 Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Good morrow, little prince. 
 
 Arth. As little prince (having fo great a title 
 To be more prince) as may be. You are fad. 
 
 Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. 
 
 Arth. Mercy on me! 
 Methinks, no body mould be fad but I ; 
 Yet I remember when I was in France ', 
 Young gentlemen would be as fad as night, 
 Only for wantonnefs. By my chriflendom, 
 So were I out of prifon, and kept fheep, 
 I mould be merry as the day is long. 
 And fo I would be here, but that, I doubt, 
 My uncle practifes more harm to me. 
 He is afraid of me, and I of him. 
 Is it my fault, that I was Geffrey's fon ? 
 Indeed, it is not; and I would to heav'n, 
 I were your fon, fo you would love me, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 
 He will awake my mercy, which lyes dead ; 
 Therefore I will be fudden, and difpatch. \_Afide. 
 
 Arth. Are you fick, Hubert ? you look pale to day ; 
 In footh, I wou'd, you were a little fick 5 
 That I might fit all night and watch with you. 
 Alas, I love you more than you do me. 
 
 Hub. His words do take pofleflion of my bofom. 
 Read here, young yfr/r [Shewing a paper. 
 How now, foolifh rheum, [AJide. 
 
 Turning dif-piteous (a] nature out of door ! 
 I muft be brief, left resolution drop 
 Out at mine eyes in tender womanim tears. . 
 
 Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ ? 
 
 [(a) nature. Oxfqrd 2s <///*/ -Vulg. torture.} 
 
 Arlb.
 
 442 Kitrg JOHN. 
 
 Arth. Too fairly, Hubert , for fo foul cffeft. 
 Muft you with irons burn out both mine eyes ? 
 
 Bub. Young boy, I muft. 
 
 Arth. And will you ? 
 
 Hub. And I will. 
 
 Arth. Have you the heart ? when your head did 
 
 but ake, 
 
 I knit my handkerchief about your brows ; 
 (The beft I had, a princefs wrought it me) 
 And I did never ask it you again ; 
 And with my hand at midnight held your head ; 
 And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, 
 Still and anon chear'd up the heavy time, 
 Saying, what lack you ? and where lyes your grief? 
 Or what good love may I perform for you ? 
 Many a poor man's fon would have lain ftill, 
 And ne'er have fpoke a loving word to you j 
 But you at your fick fervice had a prince. 
 Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love, 
 And call it cunning. Do, an if you will : 
 If heav'n be pleas'd that you muft ufe me ill, 
 
 Why then, you muft Will you put out minq 
 
 eyes? 
 
 Thefe eyes, that never did, nor never mall, 
 So much as frown on you. 
 
 Hub. I've fworn to do it ; 
 And with hot irons muft I burn them out. 
 
 Artb. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it. 
 The iron of itfelf, tho* heat red-hot, 
 Approaching near thefe eyes, would drink my tears, 
 And quench its fiery indignation, 
 Even in the matter of mine innocence: 
 Nay, after that, confumg away in ruft, 
 But for containing fire to harm mine eye. 
 Are you more ftubborn-hard, than hammer'd iron ? 
 Oh ! if an Angel fhould have come to me, 
 And told me, Hiibsrt mould put out mine eyes,
 
 King JOHN. 443 
 
 ' I would not have believ'd him : no tongue, but 
 Hubert* 
 
 Hub. Come forth ; do, as I bid you. 
 
 [Stamps^ and the men enter* 
 
 Arth. O fave me, Hubert^ fave me ! my eyes are out, 
 Ev'n with the fierce looks of thefe bloody men. 
 
 Hub. Give me the iron, I fay, and bind him here. 
 
 Artb. Alas, what need you be fo boift'rous-rough ? 
 I will not ftruggle, I will ftand ftone-ftill. 
 For heavVs fake, Hubert^ let me not be bound. 
 Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive thefe men away, 
 And I will fit as quiet as a lamb. 
 I will not ftir, nor wince, nor fpeak a word, 
 Nor look upon the iron angrily : 
 Thruft but thefe men away, and I'll forgive you, 
 Whatever torment you do put me to. 
 
 Hub. Go, ftand within j let me alone with him. 
 
 Exe-c. I am beft pleas'd to be from fuch a deed. 
 
 \_Exeurit. 
 
 Artb. Alas, I then have chid away my friend ; 
 He hath a ftern look, but a gentle heart ; 
 !Let him come back, that his compaffion may 
 
 I I 'would not have believed a tongue BUT HUBERT'S.] Thus 
 Mr. Pope found the line in the old editions. According to this 
 reading it is fuppofed that Hubert had told him, he would not put 
 out his eyes ; for the angel who fays be would, is brought in as 
 contradicting Hubert. Mr. Theobald, by what authority 1 don't 
 Jcnow, reads, 
 
 I would not have believd him : no tongue, but Hubert'/. 
 which is fpoiling the meafure, without much mending the Senfe. 
 Sbakefpear, I am perfuaded, wrote, 
 
 1 'would not have believed a tongue 'BATE HUBERT; 
 f e. abate, difparage. The blunder feems to have arifen thus, 
 bate fignifies except, faving ; fo the tranfcribers, taking it in this 
 fenfe, fubftituted the more ufual word but in its place. My alte- 
 ration greatly improves the fenfe, as implying a tendernefs of af- 
 fection for Hubert ; the common reading, only an opinion of Hu- 
 bert's veracity ; whereas the point here was to win upon Hubert's 
 paffions, which could not be better done than by fhewing affe&ion 
 towards him. 
 
 Give
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Give life to yours. 
 
 Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourfelf. 
 
 Anb. Is there no remedy ? 
 
 Hub. None, but to lofe your eyes. 
 
 Artb. O heav'n ! that there were but a moth in yours, 
 A grain, a duft, a gnat, a wandring hair, 
 Any annoyance in that precious fenfe : 
 Then, feeling what fmall thngs are boift'rous there, 
 Your vile intent muft needs feem horrible. 
 
 Hub. Is this your promife ? go to, hold your 
 tongue. 
 
 Artb. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues 
 Muft needs want pleading for a pair of eyes : 
 Let me not hold my tongue : let me not, Hubert ; 
 Or, Hubert , if you will, cut out my tongue, 
 So I may keep mine eyes. O fpare mine eyes ! 
 Though to no ufe, but ftill to look on you. 
 Lo, by my troth, the inftrument is cold, 
 And would not harm me. 
 
 Hub. 1 can heat it, boy. 
 
 Artb. No, in good footh, the fire is dead with grief, 
 Being create for comfort, to be us'd 
 Jn undeferv'd extreams ; fee elfe yourfelf, 
 There is no malice in this burning coal ; 
 The breath of heav'n hath blown its fpirit out, 
 And ftrew'd repentant afhes on its head. 
 
 Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. 
 
 Artb. And if you do, you will but make it blujfh, 
 And glow with fhame of your proceedings, Hubert: 
 Nay, it, perchance, will fparkle in your eyes: 
 And like a dog, that is compell'd to fight, 
 Snatch at his matter that doth rarre him on. 
 All things, that you mould ufe to do me wrong, 
 Deny their office ; only you do lack 
 That mercy which fierce fire and iron extend, 
 Creatures of note for 'mercy-lacking ufes. 
 
 Hub. Well, fee to live j I will not touch thine eye, 
 
 For
 
 King JOHN. 445 
 
 For all the treafure that thine uncle owns : 
 Yet am I fworn ; and I did purpofe, boy, 
 With this fame very iron to burn them out. 
 
 Artb. O, now you look like Hubert. All this while 
 You were difguifed. 
 
 Hub. Peace : no more. Adieu, 
 Your uncle mud not know but you are dead. 
 I'll fill thefe dogged ipies with falfe reports : 
 And, pretty child, Qeep doubtlefs, and fecure, 
 That Hubert^ for the wealth of all the world, 
 Will not offend thee. 
 
 Artb. O heav'n ! I thank you, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Silence, no more ; go clofely in with me. 
 Much danger do I undergo for thee. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to the Court of England. 
 
 Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other 
 Lords. 
 
 K. John. TT ERE once again we fit, once again 
 
 JL 1. crown'd, 
 And look'd upon, I hope, with chearful eyes. 
 
 Pemb. This once again, but that your highnefs 
 
 pleas'd, 
 
 Was once fuperfluous ; you were crown'd before, 
 And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off: 
 The faiths of men ne'er ftained with revolt : 
 Frefh expectation troubled not the land 
 With any long'd-for change, or better ftate. 
 
 Sal. Therefore to be pofTefs'd with double pomp, 
 To guard a title that was rich before ; 
 *' To gild refined gold, to paint the lilly, 
 * f To throw a perfume on the violet, 
 " To fmooth the ice, or add another hue 
 
 " Unto
 
 King J 
 
 O H N. 
 
 " Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
 
 *' To feek the beauteous eye of heav'n to garnifh," 
 
 Is wafteful and ridiculous excefs. 
 
 Pemb. But that your royal pleafure muft be done, 
 This ad is as an ancient tale new told, 
 And in the laft repeating troublefome ; 
 Being urged at a time unfeafo-nable. 
 
 Sal. " In this the antique and well -noted face 
 " Of plain old form is much disfigured ; 
 " And, like a (hifted wind unto a fail, 
 " It makes the courfe of thoughts to fetch about ; 
 " Startles and frights confideration ; 
 * c Makes found opinion fick, and truth fufpecfted, 
 " For putting on fo new a fafliion'd robe." 
 
 Pemb. When workmen ftrive to do better than 
 
 well, 
 
 They do confound their z skill in covetoufnefs ; 
 And oftentimes excufing of a fault 
 Doth make the fault the worfe by the excufe : 
 As patches, fct upon a little breach, 
 Difcredit more J in hiding of the flaw, 
 Than did the flaw before it was fo patch'd. 
 
 Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, 
 We breath'd our counfel ; but it pleas'd your highnefs 
 To over-bear it ; and we're all well pleas'd ; 
 Since all and every part of what we would, 
 Muft make a (land at what your highnefs will. 
 
 K. John. Some reafons of this double coronation 
 I have pofleft you with, and think them ftrong. 
 And more, more ftrong (the lefler is my fear) 
 I lhall endue you with : mean time, but ask 
 What you would have reform'd, that is not well, 
 
 2 skill in covetoufnefs ;] i. e. coveting to reach a higher 
 
 excellence. 
 
 3 in hiding of the FAULT, 
 
 Than did the FAULT ] We fliould read FLAW in both 
 
 places. 
 
 And
 
 King ] b H N. 44; 
 
 And well lhall you perceive how willingly 
 I will both hear and grant you your requefts. 
 
 Pemb. Then I, as one that am the tongue of thefe, 
 To found the purpofes of all their hearts, 
 (Both for myfelf and them ; but chief of all, 
 Your fafety ; for the which, myfelf and they 
 Bend their beft ftudies ;) heartily requeft 
 Th' infranchifement of Arthur ; whofe reftraint 
 Doth move the murm'ring lips of difcontenc 
 To break into this dang'rous argument ; 
 If what in reft you have, in right you hold, 
 Why mou'd your fears, (which, as they fay, attend 
 The fteps of wrong) then move you to mew up 
 Your tender kinfman, and to choke his days 
 With barb*rous ignorance, and deny his youth 
 The rich advantage of good exercife ? 
 That the time's enemies may not have this 
 To grace occafions, let it be our fuit, 
 That you have bid us ask his liberty ; 
 Which for our good we do no further ask, 
 Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, 
 Counts it your weal, that he have liberty. 
 
 Enter Hubert. 
 
 K. John. Let it be fo ; I do commit his youth 
 To your direction. Hubert, what news with you ? 
 
 Pemb. This is the man, mould do the bloody deed : 
 He fhew'd his warrant to a friend of mine. 
 The image of a wicked heinous fault 
 Lives in his eye ; that clofe afpect of his 
 Does fhew the mood of a much-troubled breaft. 
 And I do fearfully believe 'tis done, 
 What we fo fear'd he had a charge to do. 
 
 Sal. The colour of the King doth come and go, 
 Between his purpofe and his confcience, 
 Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles (a) fent: 
 
 O) fent. Mr. Tbtabald. Vulg. /ft.] 
 
 His
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 His pafllon is fo ripe it needs muft break. 
 
 Pemb. And when it breaks, I fear, will iflue thence 
 The foul corruption of a fweet child's death. 
 
 K. John. We cannot hold mortality's ftrong hand. 
 Good lords, although my will to give is living, 
 The fuit which you demand is gone, and dead. 
 He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night. 
 
 Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his ficknefs was paft cure. 
 Pemb. Indeed, we heard how near his death he was, 
 Before the child himfelf felt he was Tick. 
 This muft be anfwer'd, either here, or hence. 
 
 K. John. Why do you bend fuch folemn brows on 
 
 me? 
 
 Think you, I bear the fhears of deftiny ? 
 Have I commandment on the pulfe of life ? 
 
 Sal. It is apparent foul-play, and 'tis fhame 
 That greatnefs mould fo grofly offer it : 
 So thrive it in your game, and fo farewel ! 
 
 Pemb. Stay yet, lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee, 
 And find th* inheritance of this poor child, 
 His little kingdom of a forced grave. 
 That blood, which own'd the breadth of all this ifle, 
 Three foot of it doth hold ; bad world the while ! 
 This muft not be thus borne ; this will break out 
 To all our forrows, and ere long, I doubt. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter a Meffenger. 
 
 K. John. They burn in indignation ; I repent. 
 There is no fure foundation fet on blood ; 
 No certain life atchiev'd by others' death 
 A fearful eye thou haft ; where is that blood, 
 
 [To the Mffinger. 
 
 That I have feen inhabit in thofe cheeks ? 
 So foul a sky clears not without a ftorm ; 
 Pour down thy weather: how goes all in France? 
 
 Mcf.
 
 King JOHN. 449 
 
 Mef. From France to England never fuch a power, 
 For any foreign prepararion, 
 Was levy'd in the body of a land. 
 The copy of your fpeed is learn'd by them : 
 For when you fhould be told, they do prepare, 
 The tidings come, that they are all arriv'd. 
 
 K. John. O,. where hath our intelligence been drunk ? 
 Where hath it flept ? where is my mother's care ? 
 That fuch an army mould be drawn in France^ 
 And me not hear of it ? 
 
 Mef. My Liege, her ear 
 Is ftopt with duft : the firft of April, dy'd 
 Your noble mother ; and, as I hear, my lord, 
 The lady Conftance in a frenzie dy'd 
 Three days before : but this from rumour's tongue 
 I idlely heard ; if true or falfe, I know not. 
 
 K. John. With- hold thy fpeed, dreadful occafion J 
 O make a league with me, till I have pleas'd 
 My difcontented peers. What! mother dead? 
 How wildly then walks my eftate in France ? 
 Under whofe condud: came thofe powers of France^ 
 That, thou for truth giv'ft out, are landed here ? 
 
 Mef. Under the Dauphin. 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge, and Peter of Pomfrer. 
 
 K. John. Thou haft made me giddy 
 With thefe ill tidings. Now, what fays the world 
 To your proceedings ? Do not feek to fluff 
 My head with more ill news, for it is full. 
 
 Paul. But if you be afraid to hear the word, 
 Then let the worft unheard fall on your head. 
 
 K. John. Bear with me, Coufin j for 1 was amaz'd 
 Under the tide ; but now I breath again 
 Aloft the flood, and can give audience 
 To any tongue, fpeak it of what it will. 
 
 Faulc. How I have fped among the clergymen, 
 The fums I have colle&ed mall exprefs. 
 
 VOL. III. Gg But
 
 45 o King JOHN. 
 
 But as I travelled hither thro' the land, 
 I find the people ftrangely fantafied ; 
 PofTeft with rumours, full of idle dreams ; 
 Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear, 
 And here's a Prophet that I brought with me 
 From forth the ftreets of Pomfret, whom I found 
 With many hundreds treading on his heels : 
 To whom he fung in rude harm- found ing rhimes, 
 That, ere the next Afcenfion-day at noon, 
 Your Highnefs mould deliver up your crown. 
 
 K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore did'ft thou fo ? 
 
 Peter. Fore-knowing, that the truth will fall out fo. 
 
 K. John. Hubert, away with him, imprifon him, 
 And on that day at noon, whereon he fays 
 I mail yield up my crown, let him be hang'd. 
 Deliver him to fafety, and return, 
 
 For I muft ufe thee. O my gentle coufin, 
 
 [Exit Hubtct, with Peter. 
 Hear'ft thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd ? 
 
 Faulc. The French, my Lord ; men's mouths arc 
 
 full of it: 
 
 Befides, I met lord Bigot and lord Salisbury^ 
 With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire, 
 And others more, going to feek the grave 
 Of Arthur ', who, they lay, is kill'd to night' 3 
 On your fuggeftion. 
 
 K.Jobn. Gentle kinfman, go 
 And thruft thyfelf into their company : 
 I have a way to win their loves again : 
 Bring them before me. 
 
 Faulc. I will feek them out. 
 
 K. John. Nay, but make hafte : the better foot 
 
 before. 
 
 O, let me have no fubjecl: enemies, 
 When adverfe foreigners affright my towns 
 With dreadful pomp of flout invafion. 
 Be Merwry % fet feathers to thy heels ; 
 
 And
 
 King JOHN, 451 
 
 And fly, like thought, from them to me again. 
 Faulc. The fpirit of the time fhall teach me fpeed. 
 
 K. John. Spoke like a fprightful noble gentleman. 
 Go after him ; for he, perhaps, fhall need 
 Some meffenger betwixt me and the Peers 5 
 And be thou he. 
 
 Mef. With all my heart, my Liege, [*//. 
 
 K. John. My mc;her dead ! 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Hubert. 
 
 Hub. My lord, they fay, five moons were feen to 
 night : 
 
 Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about 
 
 The other four,, in wond'rous motion. 
 K. John. Five moons ? 
 Hub. Old men and beldams, in the ftreets, 
 
 Do prophefie upon it dangeroufly : 
 
 Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths ; 
 And, when they talk of him, they make their heads, 
 And whifper one another in the ear. 
 And he, hat fpeaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrift, 
 Whilft he, that hears, makes fearful aclion 
 With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyesu 
 I faw a fmith (land with his hammer, thus, 
 The whilft his iron did on the anvil cool, 
 With open mouth fwallowing a taylor's neWs 5 
 Who with his mears and meafure in his hand, 
 Standing on flippers, which his nimble hafte 
 Had falfely thruft upon contrary feet, 
 Told of a many thoufand warlike French^ 
 That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent. 
 Another lean, unwafh'd artificer 
 Cuts off his tale, and talks otdrtkur's death.' 
 
 G g 2 K. John.
 
 45 2 King JOHN. 
 
 K. John. Why feek'ft thou to poflefs me with thefe 
 
 fears? 
 
 Why urgeft thou fo oft young Arthur's death ? 
 Thy hand hath murther'd him : I had a caufe 
 To wifh him dead, but thou had'ft none to kill him. 
 
 Hub. Had none, my Lord ? why, did you not pro- 
 voke me ? 
 
 K. John. " 4 It is the curfe of Kings, to be attended 
 " By flaves that take their humours for a warrant, 
 " To break into the bloody houfe of life : 
 " And, on the winking of authority, 
 " To underftand a law, to know the meaning 
 ** Of dang'rous majefty ; when, perchance, it frowns 
 " More upon humour, than advis'd refpect" 
 
 Hub. Here is your hand and feal, for what I did. 
 
 K. John. Oh, when the laft account 'twixt heav'n 
 
 and earth 
 
 Is to be made, then (hall this hand and feal 
 Witnefs againft us to damnation. 
 " How oft the fight of means, to do ill deeds, 
 " Makes deeds ill done ? for hadft not thou been by, 
 *' A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, 
 " Quoted, and fign'd to do a deed of fhame, 
 *' This murther had not come into my mind." 
 But taking note of thy abhorr'd afpeft, 
 Finding thee fit for bloody villany, 
 Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger, 
 I faintly broke with thee ofdrtbur's death. 
 And thou, to be endeared to a King, 
 Mad'ft it no confcience to deftroy a Prince. 
 
 Hub. My Lord . 
 
 K.Jobn. " Hadft thou but Ihook thy head, or made 
 
 a paufe, 
 " When I fpake darkly what I purpofed : 
 
 4 It is the curfe of Kings, &c.] This plainly hints at Davifons 
 cafe, in the affair of Mary Queen of Scots > and fo muft have been 
 inferted long after the firft reprefcntation. 
 
 " Or
 
 King J o H N. 453 
 
 te Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face, 
 " Or bid me tell my tale in exprefs words ; 
 <c Deep lhame had ftruck me dumb, made me break 
 
 off, 
 6 And thofe thy fears might have wrought fears 
 
 in me." 
 
 But thou didft underftand me by my figns, 
 And didft in figns again parley with fin j 
 Yea, without ftop, did'ft let thy heart confent, 
 And confequently thy rude hand to aft 
 The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name. 
 Out of my fight, and never fee me more ! 
 My Nobles leave me, and my ftate is brav'd, 
 Ev'n at my gates, with ranks of foreign pow'rs ; 
 Nay, in the body of this flefhly land, 
 This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, 
 Hoftility and civil tumult reigns, 
 Between my confcience, and my coufin's death. 
 
 Hub. Arm you againft your other enemies, 
 I'll make a peace between your foul and you. 
 Young Arthur is alive : this hand of mine 
 Is yet a maiden, and an innocent hand, 
 Not painted with the crimfon fpots of blood. 
 Within this bofom never enter'd yet 
 * The dreadful motion of a murderer's thought, 
 
 And 
 
 5 The dreadful motion of a MVKV'ROVS thought.] Nothing can 
 be falfer than what Hubert here fays in his own vindication ; (yet 
 it was the poet's purpofe that he fhould fpeak truth) for we find, 
 from a preceding fcene, the motion of a murffrous thought had en- 
 tred into him, and that, very deeply: and it was with difficulty 
 that the tears, the intreaties, and the innocence of Arthur had 
 diverted and fupprefied it. Nor is the expreffion, in this reading, 
 at all exaft, it not being the neceffary quality of a murderous 
 thought to be dreadful, affrighting or terrible : For it being com- 
 monly excited by the flattering views of intereft, pleafure, or re- 
 venge, the mind is often too much taken up with thofe ideas to 
 attend, fteadily, to the confequences. We muft conclude there- 
 fore that Sbakejpear wrote, 
 
 -a MURDERER'S thought. 
 
 G g 3 And
 
 J 
 
 O H N. 
 
 And you have flander'd nature in my form ; 
 "Which, howfoevcr rude exteriorly, 
 Is yet the cover of a fairer mind, 
 Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 
 
 K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, hafte thee to the 
 
 Peers, 
 
 Throw this report on their incenfed rage, 
 And make them tame to their obedience. 
 Forgive the comment that my paffion made 
 Upon thy feature, for my rage was blind ; 
 And foul imaginary eyes of blood 
 Prefented thee more hideous than thou art. 
 Oh, anfwer not, but to my clofet bring 
 The angry lords with all expedient hafte. 
 I conjure thee but flowly : run more faft. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 A Street before a Prifon. 
 
 Enter Arthur on the Walls^ difguifd. 
 
 Arthf~T* H E wall is high, and yet will I leap down. 
 JL Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not ! 
 There's few or none do know me : if they did, 
 This fhip-boy's femblance hath difguis'd me quite. 
 I am afraid, and yet I'll venture it. 
 If I get down, and do not break my limbs, 
 I'll find a thoufand fhifts to get away : 
 As good to die, and go ; as die, and ftay. {Leaps down. 
 
 And this makes Hubert fpeak truth, as the poet intended he mould. 
 He had not committed the rrmrdtr, and confequently the motion of 
 a murderer's thought had never enter 1 d bis bofom. And in this read- 
 ing, the epithet dreadful is admirably juft, and in nature. For af- 
 ter the perpetration of the fact, the appetites, that hurried their 
 owner to it, lofe their force; and nothing fuccceds, to take poflef- 
 Con of the mind, but a dreadful confcioufnefs, that torments the 
 murderer without refpite or imermifTion. 
 
 Oh
 
 King JOHN. 45S 
 
 Oh me ! my Uncle's fpirit is in thefe ftones : 
 Heav'n take my foul, and England keep my bones ! 
 
 (Dies. 
 
 Enter Pembroke, Salisbury and Bigot. 
 
 Sal. Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmondsbury ; 
 It is our fafety -, and we muft embrace 
 This gentle offer of the perilous time. 
 
 Pern. Who brought that letter from the Cardinal ? 
 
 Sal. The Count Melun, a noble lord of France^ 
 6 Whofe private with me of the Dauphin's love 
 Is much more gen'ral than thefe lines import. 
 
 Bigot. To-morrow morning let us meet him then. 
 
 Sal. Or rather then fet forward, for 'twill be 
 Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet. 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge. 
 
 Faulc. Once more to day well met, diftemper'd 
 
 lords ; 
 The King by me requefts your prefence (trait. 
 
 Sal. The King hath difpofieft himfclf of us; 
 We will not line his thin, beftained cloak 
 With our pure honours : nor attend the foot, 
 That leaves the print of blood where-e'er it walks. 
 Return, and tell him fo : we know the worft. 
 
 Faulc. What e'er you think, good words, I think, 
 were beft. 
 
 Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reafon now, 
 
 Faulc. But there is little reafon in your grief, 
 Therefore, 'twere reafon, you had manners now. 
 
 Pern. Sir, Sir, impatience hath its privilege. 
 
 Faulc. 'Tis true, to hurt its mafter, no man elfe. 
 
 Sal. This is the prifon : what is he lyes here ? 
 
 {Seeing Arthur. 
 
 6 Whofe private, &c.] /. e . whofe private account, of the Dau- 
 pbin's affedlion co our caafe, is much more ample than the letters. 
 
 Mr. Pope. 
 
 G g 4 Pirn.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Pern. O death, made proud with pure and princely 
 
 beauty ! 
 The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 
 
 Sal. Murder, as hating what himfelf hath done, 
 Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. 
 
 Bigot. Or when hedoom'd this beauty to the grave, 
 Found it too precious princely for a grave. 
 
 Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? have you beheld, 
 Or have you read, or heard, or could you think, 
 Or do you almoft think, altho* you fee, 
 What you do fee ? could thought, without this object, 
 Form fuch another ? 'tis the very top, 
 The height, the creft, or creft unto the creft 
 Of murder's arms j this is the bloodieft fhame, 
 The wildeft favag'ry, the vileft ftroke, 
 That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or flaring rage, 
 Prefented to the tears of foft remorfe. 
 
 Pern. All murders pad do (land excus'd in this , 
 And this fo fole, and Ib unmatchable, 
 Shall give a holinefs, a purity, 
 To the yet-unbegotten fins of time ; 
 And prove a deadly blood-fhed but a jeft, 
 Exampled by this heinous fpeclacle. 
 
 Faulc. It is a damned and a bloody work, 
 The gracelefs action of a heavy hand : 
 If that it be the work of any hand. 
 
 Sal. If that it be the work of any hand ? 
 We had a kind of light, what would enfue. 
 It is the fhameful work of Hubert's hand, 
 The practice and the purpofe of the King : 
 From whofe obedience I forbid my foul, 
 Kneeling before this ruin of fweet life, 
 And breathing to this breathlefs excellence 
 The incenfe of a vow, a holy vow! 
 Never to tafte the pleafures of the world, 
 Never to be infected with delight, 
 >Jor converfant with eafe and idlenefs. 
 Till I have fet a glory to this hand s By
 
 King JOHN. 457 
 
 By giving it the worfhip of revenge. 
 
 Jj \ Our fouls religioufly confirm thy words. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Enter Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Lords, I am hot with hafte, in feeking you ; 
 Arthur doth live, the King hath fent for you. 
 
 Sal. Oh, he is bold, and bluflies not at death ; 
 Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! 
 
 Hub. I am no villain. 
 
 Sal. Muft I rob the law ? [Drawing bis Sword. 
 
 Faulc. Your fword is bright, Sir, put it up again. 
 
 Sal. Not till I fheath it in a murd'rer's skin. 
 
 Hub. Stand back, Lord Salisbury, (land back, I lays 
 By heav'n, I think, my fword's as fharp as yours. 
 I would not have you, Lord, forget yourfelf, 
 Nor tempt the danger of my true defence ; 
 Left I, by marking of your rage, forget 
 Your worth, your greatnefs, and nobility. 
 
 Bigot. Out, dunghill ! dar'ft thou brave a Nobleman ? 
 
 Hub. Not for my life; but yet I dare defend 
 My innocent life againft an Emperor. 
 
 Sal. Thou art a murd'rer. 
 
 Hub. Do not prove me fo ; 
 
 Yet, I am none. Whofe tongue foever fpeaks fallc, 
 Not truly fpeaks ; who fpeaks not truly, lyes. 
 
 Pern. Cut him to pieces. 
 
 Faulc. Keep the peace, I fay. 
 
 Sal. Stand by, or I mail gaul you, Faulconbridge, 
 
 Faulc. Thou wert better gaul the devil, Salisbury. 
 If thou but frown on me, or ftir thy foot, 
 Or teach thy hafty fpleen to do me fhame, 
 I'll ftrike the dead. Put up thy fword betime, 
 Or I'll fo maul you, and your tofting-iron, 
 That you (hall think, the devil is come from hell.
 
 45 8 King Jo H *r. 
 
 . What will you do, renowned Faulconbridgs ? 
 Second a villain, and a murderer ? 
 
 Hub. Lord .Z%0/, I am none. 
 
 Bigot. Who kill'd this Prince? 
 
 Hub. 'Tis not an hour fince I left him well : 
 I honoured him, I lov'd him, and will weep 
 My date of life out, for his fweet life's lofs. 
 
 Sal. Truft not thofe cunning waters of his eyes, 
 For villany is not without fuch a rheum ; 
 And he, long traded in it, makes it feem 
 Like rivers of remorfe and innocence. 
 Away with me all you, whofe fouls abhor 
 Th' uncleanly favour of a flaughter-houfe, 
 For I am ftifled with the fmell of fin. 
 
 Bigot. Away towr'd Bury, to the Dauphin there. 
 
 Pern. There, tell the King, he may enquire us out. 
 
 [Exeunt Lords. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 Faulc. Here's a good world ; knew you of this 
 
 fair work? 
 
 Beyond the infinite and boundlefs reach 
 Of mercy, (if thou didft this deed of death) 
 Art thou damn'd, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Do but hear me, Sir. 
 
 Faulc. Hd! I'll tell thee what, 
 Thou'rt damn'd fo black - nay, nothing is fo 
 
 black ; 
 
 Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer. 
 There is not yet fo ugly a fiend of hell 
 As thou malt be, if thou didft kill this child. 
 
 Hub. Upon my foul - 
 
 Faulc. If thou didft but confent 
 To this moft cruel acl, do but defpair, 
 And if thou want'ft a cord, the fmalleft thread, 
 That ever fpider twifted from her womb, 
 
 Will
 
 Kmg JOHN. 459 
 
 Will ftrangle thee ; a rufh will be a beam 
 
 To hang thee on : or would'ft thou drown thyfelf, 
 
 Put but a little water in a fpoon, 
 
 And it fhall be as all the ocean, 
 
 Enough to ftifle fuch a villain up. 
 
 I do fufpecl: thee very grievoufly. 
 
 Hub. If I in at, confent, or fin of thought* 
 Be guilty of the Healing thatfweet breath, 
 Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,, 
 Let hell want pains enough to torture me ! 
 I left him well. 
 
 Faulc. Go, bear him in thine arms. 
 I am amaz'd, methinks, and lofe my way 
 Among the thorns and dangers of this world. 
 7 How eafie doft thou take all England up ! 
 From forth this morfel of dead Royalty, 
 The life, the right, and truth of all this Realm 
 Is fled to heav'n ; and England now is left 
 To tug and fcramblc, and to part by th* teeth 
 The un-owed intereft of proud-fwelling State. 
 Now for the bare-pickt bone of Majefty, 
 Doth dogged war briftle his angry creft ; 
 And fnarleth in the gentle eyes of peace. 
 Now Pow'rs from home and difcontents at home 
 Meet in one line : and vaft confufion waits 
 (As doth a Raven on a fick, fall'n beaft) 
 The imminent Decay of wrefted Pomp. 
 Now happy he, whofe cloak and cincture can 
 Hold out this tempeft. Bear away the child, 
 And follow me with fpeed 5 I'll to the King ; 
 A thousand bufineffes are brief at hand, 
 And heav'n itfelf doth frown upon the Land. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 7 A point fet right by Mr, Theobald. 
 
 ACT
 
 460 King J o H IT. 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 We Court of E N G L A N D. 
 Enter King John, Pandulph, and Attendants. 
 
 K. JOH N. 
 
 *"TpHUS I have yielded up into your hand 
 JL The circle of my Glory. [Giving the Crown. 
 
 Pand. Take again 
 
 From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, 
 Your fo'vereign Greatnefs and Authority. 
 
 K. John. Now keep your holy word ; go meet the 
 
 French, 
 
 And from his Holinefs ufe all your power 
 To flop the Marches, 'fore we are tnflam'd. 
 Our difcontented Counties do revolt ; 
 Our people quarrel with obedience ; 
 Swearing allegiance, and the love of foul, 
 To ftranger blood, to foreign Royalty j 
 This inundation of miftemper'd humour 
 Refls by you only to be qualify'd. 
 Then paufe not ; for the prefent time's fb fick, 
 That prefent medicine muft be miniflred, 
 Or Overthrow incurable infues. 
 
 Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempeft up, 
 Upon your ftubborn ufage of the Pope : 
 But fince you are a gentle convertite, 
 My tongue ihall hum again this ftorm of war; 
 And make fair weather in your bluft'ring Land. 
 On this Afcenjion-day, remember well, 
 Upon your oath of fervice to the Pope, 
 Go I to make the French lay down their arms. [Exit. 
 
 K.John. \stii\sAfcenfion-day? did not the Prophet 
 
 Say,
 
 King J 
 
 O H N. 461 
 
 Say, that before Afcenfion-day at noon 
 My Crown I fhould give off? even fo I have: 
 I did fuppoie, it mould be on conftraint ; 
 But, heav'n be thank'd, it is but voluntary. 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge. 
 
 Faulc. All Kent hath yielded, nothing there holds 
 
 out 
 
 But Dover-Caftle : London hath receiv'd, 
 Like a kind hoft, the Dauphin and his Powers. 
 Your Nobles will not hear you, but are gone 
 To offer fervice to your enemy ; 
 And wild amazement hurries up and down 
 The little number of your doubtful friends. 
 
 K. John. Would not my lords return to me again, 
 After they heard, young Arthur was alive? 
 
 Faulc. They found him dead, and caft into the 
 
 flreets, 
 
 An empty casket, where the jewel, life, 
 By fome damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away. 
 K. John. That villain Hubert told me, he did live; 
 Faulc. So on my foul he did, for aught he knew: 
 But wherefore do you droop? why look you fad ? 
 Be great in act, as you have been in thought : 
 Let not the world fee fear and fad diftruft 
 Govern the motion of a kingly eye : 
 Be ftirring as the time ; be fire with fire ; 
 Threaten the threatner, and out-face the brow 
 Of bragging horror : fo mail inferior eyes, 
 That borrow their behaviours from the Great, 
 Grow great by your example j and put on 
 The dauntlefs fpirit of refolution. 
 Away, and glifter like the God of war, 
 When he intendeth to become the field ; 
 Shew boldnefs and afpiring confidence. 
 What, lhall they feek ttye Lion in his den,
 
 462 King JOHN. 
 
 And fright him there ? and make him tremble there ? 
 Oh, let it not be faid ! Forage, and run 
 To meet difpleafure farther from the doors ; 
 And grapple with him, ere he come fo nigh. 
 
 K. John. The Legate of the Pope hath been with 
 
 me, 
 
 And I have made a happy peace with him ; 
 And he hath promis'd to difmifs the Powers 
 Led by the Dauphin. 
 
 Fauk. Oh inglorious league! 
 Shall we, upon the footing of our Land, 
 Send fair-play-orders, and make compromife, 
 Infinuation, parley, and bafe truce, 
 To arms invafive ? mail a beardlefs boy, 
 A cocker'd, filken, Wanton brave our fields, 
 And flcfh his fpirit in a warlike foil, 
 Mocking the air with Colours idely fpread, 
 And find no check? let us, my Liege, to arms : 
 Perchance, the Cardinal can*t make your peace j 
 Or if he do, let it at lea ft be frid, 
 They faw, we had a purpofe of defence, 
 
 K. John. Have thou the ord'ring of this prefent 
 time. 
 
 Fauk. Away then, with good courage ; yet, I 
 
 know, 
 Our Party may well meet a prouder foe. \_Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Changes to the Dauphin'* Camp. 
 
 Enter, inarms> Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, Pembroke, 
 Bigot, and Soldiers. 
 
 Lewis. \ M Y lord Melun, let this be copied out, 
 JLVJL And keep it fafe for our remembrance : 
 
 Return
 
 King JOHN. 463 
 
 Return the prefident to thefe lords again, 
 That having our fair order written down, 
 Both they and we, perufing o'er thefe notes, 
 May know wherefore we took the Sacrament; 
 And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. 
 
 Sal. Upon our fides it never fhall be broken. 
 And, noble Dauphin^ albeit we fwear 
 A voluntary zeal and un-urg'd faith 
 To your proceedings ; yet believe me, Prince, 
 I am not glad that fuch a Sore of time 
 Should feek a plaifter by contemn'd revolt ; 
 And heal th' inveterate canker of one wound, 
 By making many. Oh, it grieves my foul, 
 That I muft draw this metal from my fide 
 To be a widow-maker : oh, and there, 
 Where honourable refcue, and defence, 
 Cries out upon the name of Salisbury. 
 But fuch is the infection of the time, 
 That, for the health and phyfick of our Right, 
 We cannot deal but with the very hand 
 Of ftern injuftice, and confufed wrong. 
 And is't not pity, oh, my grieved friends! 
 That we the fons and children of this Ifle, 
 Were born to fee fo fad an hour as this, 
 Wherein we ftep after a ftranger March 
 Upon her gentle bofom, and fill up 
 Her enemies ranks ? (I muft withdraw and weep 
 Upon the Spot of this enforced caufej) 
 To grace the gentry of a Land remote, 
 And follow unacquainted Colours here? 
 What, here? O nation, that thou could'ft remove ! 
 That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, 
 Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyfelf, 
 And grapple thee unto a Pagan Ihore ! 
 Where thefe two chriftian armies might combine 
 The blood of malice in a vein of league, 
 
 And
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 And not to fpend it fo un-neighbourly. 
 
 Lewis. A noble temper doft thou fhew in this 5 
 And great affection, wreftling in thy bofom, 
 Doth make an earthquake of Nobility. 
 Oh, what a noble combat haft thou fought, 
 1 Between compulfion, and a brave refpect! 
 Let me wipe off this honourable dew, 
 That filverly doth progrefs on thy cheeks. 
 46 My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, 
 " Being an ordinary inundation : 
 " But this effufion of fuch manly drops, 
 ** This mow'r, blown up by tempeft of the foul, 
 *' Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd, 
 * Than had I feen the vaulty top of heav'n 
 " Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors." 
 Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, 
 And with a great heart heave away this ftorm. 
 " Commend thefe waters to thofe baby-eyes, 
 " That never faw the giant world enrag'd ; 
 *' Nor met with fortune, other than at feafts, 
 " Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gofiipping." 
 Come, come ; for thou lhalt thruft thy hand as deep 
 Into the purfe of rich profperity, 
 As Lewis himfelf ; fo, Nobles, mail you all, 
 That knit your finews to the ftrength of mine. 
 
 i Between compulfion, and a brave refyeB.] This compulfion 
 was the neceffity of a reformation in the itate ; which, accord- 
 ing to Salisbury's opinion, (who, in his fpeech preceding, calls it 
 an enforced cauft) could only be procured by foreign zrms : And 
 the brave refpefi was the love of his country. Yet the Oxford 
 Editor, for compulfion, reads compafioa. 
 
 SCENE
 
 king JOHN. 465 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Pandulph. 
 
 And even there, methinks, an angel (a} fpeeds ; 
 Look, where the holy legate comes apace, 
 To give us warrant from the hand of heav'n, 
 And on our actions fet the name of Right 
 With holy breath. 
 
 Pand. Hail, noble Prince of France ! 
 The next is this : King John hath reconcil'd 
 Himfelf to Rome ; his fpirit is come in, 
 That fo flood out againft the holy Church, 
 The great Metropolis and See of Rome. 
 Therefore thy threatning Colours now wind up. 
 And tame the favage fpirit of wild war ; 
 That, like a Lion fofter'd up at hand* 
 Jt may lye gently at the foot of peace : 
 And be no further harmful than in (hew. 
 
 Lewis. Your Grace mall pardon me, I will not 
 
 back: 
 
 I am too high-born to be propertied, 
 To be a fecondary at controul -, 
 Or ufeful ferving-man, and inftrument, 
 To any fovereign State throughout the world. 
 Your breath firlt kindled the dead coal of war, 
 Between this chaftis'd Kingdom and myfelf; 
 And brought in matter, that fhould feed this fir. 
 And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out, 
 With that fame weak wind which enkindfed it. 
 You taught me how to know the face of Right, 
 Acquainted me with int'reft to this Land ; 
 Yea, thruft this enterprize into my heart : 
 And come ye now, to tell me John hath made 
 
 (a) fpeeds. Oxford Editor Vuig. fake! ] 
 
 Voi. III. Hh His 

 
 466 King JOHN. 
 
 His peace with Rome ? what is that peace to me ? 
 I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, 
 After young Arthur, claim this Land for mine : 
 And now it is half-conquer'd, muft I back, 
 Becaufe that John hath made his peace with Rome? 
 Am I Rome's flave? what penny hath Rome borne. 
 What men provided, what munition fent, 
 To under-prop this action ? is't not I, 
 That undergo this charge? who elfe but I, 
 And fuch as to my Claim are liable, 
 Sweat in. this bufinefs, and maintain this war? 
 Have I not heard thefe inlanders fhout out, 
 Vive le Roy! as I have bank'd their towns? 
 Have I not here the bed cards for the game, 
 To win this eafie match, plaid for a Crown ? 
 And mall I now give o'er the yielded Set? 
 No, on my foul, it never (hall be faid. 
 
 Pand. You look but on the outfide of this work. 
 
 Lewis. Outfide or infide, I will not return, 
 Till my attempt fo much be glorified, 
 As to my ample hope was promifed, 
 Before I drew this gallant head of war , 
 And cull'd thefe fiery fpirits from the world, 
 To outlook Conqueft, and to win Renown 
 Ev'n in the jaws of danger, and of death. 
 
 [Trumpet founds. 
 What lufty trumpet thus doth fummon us? 
 
 5 C E N E IV. 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge. 
 
 Fauk. According to the fair Play of the world, 
 Let me have audience : I am fent to fpeak, 
 My holy lord of Milain, from the King : 
 I come, to learn how you have dealt for him : 
 
 Anc!
 
 King JOHN. 467 
 
 And as you anfwer, I do know the fcope 
 And warrant limited unto my tongue. 
 
 Pand. The Dauphin is too willfull-oppofite, 
 And will not temporize with my entreaties : 
 He flatly fays, he'll not lay down his arms. 
 
 Faulc. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, 
 The Youth fays well. Now hear our Englijh King; 
 For thus his Royalty doth fpeak in me : 
 He is prepar'd ; and reafon too, he mould. 
 This apim and unmannerly approach, 
 This harnefs'd mask, and unadvifed revel, 
 This unheard fawcinefs and boyifh troops, 
 The King doth fmile at ; and is well-prepar'd 
 To whip this dwarfifh war, thefe pigmy arms, 
 From out the circle of his Territories. 
 That hand which had the ftrength, ev'n at your door, 
 To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch ; 
 To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells ; 
 To crouch in litter of your ftable-planks, 
 To lye, like pawns, lock'd up in chefts and trunks ; 
 To herd with fwine ; to feek fweet fafety out, 
 In vaults and prifons ; and to thrill, and fhake, 
 Ev'n at the crying of our nation's Crow, 
 Thinking his voice an armed EngliJJj man ; 
 Shall tliat victorious hand be feebled here, 
 That in your chambers gave you chaftifemeat ? 
 No ; know, the gallant Monarch is in arms ; 
 And like an Eagle o'er his Aiery tow'rs, 
 To foufe annoiance that comes near his neft. 
 And you degen'rate, you ingrate Revolts, 
 You bloody Nero*s, ripping up the womb 
 Of your dear mother England, blufh for mame. 
 For your own ladies, and pale-vifag'd maids, 
 Like Amazon^ come tripping after drums ; 
 Their Thimbles into armed Gantlets change, 
 Their Needles to Lances, and their gentle Hearts 
 
 Hh 2 To
 
 468 King JOHN, 
 
 To fierce and bloody inclination. 
 
 Lewis. There end thy Brave, and turn thy face in 
 
 peace; 
 
 We grant, thou canft out-fcold us ; fare thee well : 
 We hold our time too precious to be fpent 
 With fuch a babler. 
 
 Pand. Give me leave to fpeak. 
 
 Faulc. No, I will fpeak. 
 
 Lewis. We will attend to neither : 
 Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war 
 Plead for our int'reft, and our being here. 
 
 Faulc. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out ; 
 And fo mail you, being beaten j do but ftart 
 An Echo with the clamour of thy drum, 
 And even at hand a drum is ready biac'd, 
 That mail reverb'rate all as loud as thine. 
 Sound but another, and another mall, 
 As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear, 
 And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder. For at hand 
 (Not trufting to this halting Legate here, 
 Whom he hath us'd rather for fport, than need) 
 Is warlike John ; and in his forehead fits 
 A bare-ribb'd death ; whofe office is this day 
 To feaft upon whole thoufands of the French. 
 
 Lewis. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. 
 
 Faulc. And thou malt find it, Dauphin^ do not 
 
 doubt. [Ex eunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Changes to a Field of Battle. 
 
 Alarms. Enter King John and Hubert. 
 
 K. John. TT O W goes the day with us ? oh, tell me, 
 
 rl Hubert. 
 Hub. Badly, I fear ; how fares your Majefty ? 
 
 K. John.
 
 King J 
 
 O H N. 469 
 
 K. John. This feaver, that hath troubled me fo long, 
 Lyes heavy on me : oh, my heart is fick ! 
 
 Enter a Meffenger. 
 
 Mef. My lord, your valiant kinfman, Faulconbridge, 
 Defines your Majefty to leave the field ; 
 And fend him word by me which way you go. 
 
 K. John. Tell him, tow'rd Swinftead, to the Abbey 
 there. 
 
 Mef. Be of good Comfort : for the great Supply, 
 That was expected by the Dauphin here, 
 Are wreck'd three nights ago an Godwin-funds. 
 This news was brought to Richard but ev'n now ; 
 The French fight coldly, and retire themfelves. 
 
 K. John. Ah me ! this tyrant feaver burns me up, 
 And will not let me welcome this good news. 
 Set on tow'rd Swinftead ; to my Litter ftrait ; 
 Weaknefs pofiefleth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 Changes to the French Camp. 
 
 Enter Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot. 
 
 Sal. I Did not think the King fo ftor'd with friends. 
 
 JL Pemb. Up once again ; put fpirit in the Trench : 
 If they mifcarry, we mifcarry too. 
 
 Sal. That mil- begotten devil, Faulconbridge, 
 In fpight of fpight, alone upholds the day. 
 
 Pemb. They fay, King John, fore fick, hath left 
 the field. 
 
 Enter Melun, wounded. 
 
 Melun. Lead me to the Revolts of England here. 
 al* When we were happy, we had other names. 
 H h 3 Pemb.
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 femb. It is the Count Melun. 
 
 Sal. Wounded to death. 
 
 Melun. Fly, noble Engli/h, you are bought and fold ; 
 Unthread the rude eye of Rebellion, 
 And welcome home again difcarded faith. 
 Seek out King Jobn^ and fall before his feet : 
 For if the French be lords of this loud day, 
 He means to recompence the pains you take, 
 By cutting off your heads; thus hath he fworn, 
 And 1 with him, and many more with me, 
 Upon the altar at St. Edmonslury ; 
 Ev'n on that altar, where we fwore to you 
 Dear amity and everlafting love. 
 
 Sal. May this be poffible! may this be true! 
 
 Melun. Have I not hideous death within 'my view . 3 
 Retaining but a quantity of life,, 
 Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax 
 Refolveth from its figure 'gainft the fire? 
 W T hat in the world mould make me now deceive, 
 Since I muft lofe the ufe of all deceit ? 
 Why mould I then be falfe, fince it is true, 
 That I muft die here, and live hence by truth ? 
 I fay again, if Lewis do win the day, 
 He is forfworn, if e'er thofe eyes of yours 
 Behold another day break in the eaft. 
 But ev'n this night, whofe black contagious breath 
 Already fmoaks about the burning creft 
 Of the old, feeble, and day- wearied fun, 
 Ev'n this ill night, your breathing (hall expire ; 
 Paying the fine of rated treachery, 
 Ev'n with a treacherous fine of all your lives, 
 If Lewis by your afllftance win the day. 
 Commend me to one Hubert, with your King j 
 The love of him, and this refpecl befides, 
 (For that my grandfire was an Engti/bm&t^ 
 Awakes my confcience to confefs all this. 
 
 In
 
 King JOHN. 471 
 
 In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence 
 From forth the nolle and rumour of the field ; 
 Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts 
 In peace; and part this body and my foul, 
 With contemplation, and devout defires. 
 
 Sal. We do believe thee, and belhrew my foul 
 But I do love the favour and the form 
 Of this mod fair occafion, by the which 
 We will untread the fteps of damned flight ; 
 And, like a bated and retired flood, 
 Leaving our ranknefs and irregular courfe, 
 Stoop Jow within thofe bounds, we have o'er-look'd $ 
 And calmly run on in obedience 
 Ev'n to our ocean, to our great King John. 
 My arm (hall give thee help to bear thee hence, 
 For I do fee the cruel pangs of death 
 (a) Pight in thine eye. Away, my friends; new 
 
 flight ; 
 
 And happy newnefs, that intends old right ! 
 [Exeunt, leading 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 Changes to a different part of the French Camp* 
 
 Enter Lewis, and his 'frain. 
 
 J>K;ZJ. "~TP H E fun of heav'n, methought, was loth 
 
 1 to fet, 
 
 But (laid, and made the weftern welkin blufh ; 
 W hen th' Engli/h meafur'd backward their own ground 
 In faint retire: oh, bravely came we off, 
 When with a volley of our needlefs (hot, 
 After fuch bloody toil, we bid good night; 
 
 [ (a] Pigkt. Oxford Edition - Vulg. Right. ] 
 
 H h 4 And
 
 472 King JOHN. 
 
 And wound our tatter'd colours clearly up, 
 Laft in the field, and almoft lords of it! > 
 
 Enter a Meffenger. 
 
 Mef. Where is my prince, the Dauphin? 
 Lewis. Here; what news? 
 
 Mef. The count Melun is (lain ; the Englijb lord* 
 By his perfwafion are again fall'n off ; 
 And your fupply, which you have wifh'd fo long, 
 Are caft away, and funk on Godwin fands. 
 
 Lewis. Ah foul, fhrewd, news ! Beflirew thy very 
 
 heart, 
 
 I did not think to be fad to night, 
 As this hath made me. Who was he, that faid, 
 King John did fly, an hour or two before 
 The flumbling night did part our weary powers ? 
 Mef. Who ever fpoke it, it is true, my lord. 
 Lewis. Well ; keep good quarter, and good care 
 
 to night i 
 
 The day (hall not be up fo foon as T, 
 fo try the fair adventure of to morrow. [Exeunt , 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 An open "Place in tks Neighbourhood ofS win (lead 
 Abbey, 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge, and Hubert, fever ally. 
 
 JM.\T/HO's there? fpeak, ho! fpeak quickly, 
 VV or I moot. 
 
 Faith. A friend. What art thou ? 
 
 Hub. Of the part of England. 
 
 Fault. And whither doft thou go ? 
 
 Hub. What's that to thee ? 
 Why may not I demand of thine affairs, 
 As well as thou of mine ?
 
 King JOHN. 473 
 
 Faulc. Hubert, I think. 
 
 Hub. Thou haft a perfed thought: 
 I will upon all hazards well believe 
 Thou art my friend, that know'ft my tongue fo well J 
 Who art thou ? 
 
 Faulc. Who thou wilt ; and, if thou pleafe, 
 Thou may'ft be-friend me fo much, as to think, 
 I come one way of the Plantagenets, 
 
 Hub. Unkind remembrance! * thou and eyelefs 
 
 night 
 
 Have done me fhame ; brave foldier, pardon me, 
 That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, 
 Should fcape the true acquaintance of mine ear. 
 
 Faulc. Come, come ; fans compliment , what news 
 abroad ? 
 
 Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night, 
 To find you out. 
 
 Faulc. Brief then : and what's the news ? 
 
 Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitting to the night ; 
 Black, fearful, comfortlefs, and horrible. 
 
 Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill news, 
 I am no woman, I'll not fwoon at it. 
 
 Hub. The King, I fear, is poifon'd by a Monk: 
 I left him almoft fpeechlefs, and broke out 
 T* acquaint you with this evil ; that you might 
 The better arm you to the fudden time, 
 Than if you had at leifure known of this. 
 
 Faulc. How did he take it ? who did tafte to him ? 
 
 Hub. A monk, I tell you ; a refolved villain, 
 Whofe bowels fuddenly burft out ; the King 
 Yet fpeaks ; and, peradventure, may recover. 
 
 Faulc. Who didft thou leave to tend his Majefty ? 
 
 2 thou and endlefs night ] We fhould read, eytlefs. So 
 
 findar calls the Moon, the eye of night. 
 
 Hub.
 
 474 King JOHN. 
 
 Hub. Why, know you not ? the iords are all come 
 
 back, 
 
 And brought Prince Henry in their company ; 
 At whofe requeft the King hath pardon'd them, 
 And they are all about his Majefty. 
 
 Faulc. With-hold thine indignation, mighty heav'n! 
 And tempt us not to bear above our power. 
 I'll tell thee, Hubert^ half my pow'rs this night, 
 Faffing thefe fiats, are taken by the tide ; 
 Thefe Lincoln-w&fties have devoured them -, 
 Myfelf, well mounted, hardly have efcaped. 
 Away, before : conduct me to the King ; 
 I doubt, he Will be dead, or e'er I come. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 Changes to the Orchard in Swinftead Abbey. 
 
 Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury and Bigot. 
 Henry. T T is too late ; the life of all his blood 
 
 JL Is touch'd corruptibly ; and his pure brain, 
 (Which, fome fuppofe, the foul's frail dwelling houfe,) 
 Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, 
 Foretel the ending of mortality. 
 
 Enter Pembroke. 
 
 Pemb. His highnefs yet doth fpeak, and holds 
 
 belief, 
 
 That, being brought into the open air, 
 It would allay the burning quality 
 Of that fell poifon, which afiaileth him. 
 
 Henry. Let him be brought into the orchard here; 
 Doth he ftill rage ? 
 
 Pemb. He is more patient, 
 Than when you left him j even now he fung. 
 
 Henry.
 
 Kmg JOHN. 475 
 
 Henry. O vanity of ficknefs! fierce extrearm 
 In their continuance will not feel themfelves. 
 Death having prey'd upon the outward parts, 
 Leaves them (a) infenfible ; his fiege is now, 
 Againft the mind; the which he pricks and wounds 
 With many legions of ftrange fantafies ; 
 Which, in their throng, and prefs to that lad hold, 
 Confound themfelves. 'Tis ftrange that death mould 
 
 fing: 
 
 I am the cygnet to this pale, faint fwan, 
 Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death 5 
 And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, fmgs 
 His foul and body to their lading reft. 
 
 Sal. Be of good comfort, Prince ; for you are born 
 To fet a form upon that indigeft, 
 Which he hath left fo lhapelefs and fb rude. 
 
 King Jojin brought in. 
 
 K. John. Ay, marry, now my foul hath elbow- 
 room ; 
 
 It would not out at windows, nor at doors. 
 There is fo hot a fummer in my bofom, 
 That all my bowels crumble up to duft : 
 I am a fcribbled form drawn with a pen 
 Upon a parchment, and againft this fire 
 Do I fhrink up. 
 
 Henry. How fares your Majefty ? 
 
 K. John. Poifon-'d, ill fare! dead, forfook, caft off-, 
 4< And none of you will bid the winter come 
 *' To thruft his icy fingers in my maw ; 
 " Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their courfe 
 " Through my burn'd bofom : nor intreat the north 
 " To make his bleak winds kifs my parched lips, 
 " And comfort me with cold." I ask not much, 
 
 [ (a) infenfille. Oxford Edition Vulg. in
 
 King ] 
 
 O H N. 
 
 I beg cold comfort ; and you are fo ftrait, 
 And fo ungrateful, you deny me that. 
 
 Henry. Oh, that there were fome virtue in my tears, 
 That might relieve you! 
 
 K. John. The fait of them is hot. 
 Within me is a hell j and there the poifon 
 Is, as a fiend, confin*d to tyrannize 
 On unreprievable, condemned blood. 
 
 SCENE X, 
 
 Enter Faulconbridge. 
 
 Faulc. Oh! I am fcalded with my violent motion, 
 And fpleen of fpeed to fee your Majefty. 
 
 Y^.Jobn. Oh! coufin, tnou art come to fet mine 
 
 eye: 
 
 The tackle of my heart is crackt and burnt ; 
 And all the fhrowds, wherewith my life mould fail. 
 Are turned to one thread, one little hair : 
 My heart hath one poor firing to flay it by, 
 "Which holds but till thy news be uttered ; 
 And then all this thou feed, is but a clod, 
 And module of confounded royalty. 
 
 Faulc. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, 
 Where, heav'n he knows, how we (hall anfwer him. 
 For, in a night, the bed part of my power, 
 As I upon advantage did remove, 
 Were in the wafhes, all unwarily, 
 Devoured by the unexpected flood. [The King dies. 
 
 Sal. You breathe thefe dead news in as dead an ear : 
 
 My Liege! my Lord! but now a King - 
 
 now thus. 
 
 Htnry. Ev'n fo muft I run on, and ev'n fo (lop. 
 What furety of the world, what hope, what (lay, 
 When this was now a King, and now is clay ? 
 
 Faulc,
 
 King JOHN. 477 
 
 Faulc. Art thou gone fo ? I do but ftay behind, 
 To do the office for thee of revenge : 
 And then my \foul fhall wait on thee to heav'n, 
 As it on earth hath been thy fervant ft ill. 
 Now, nowj you ftars, that move in your bright fpheres, 
 Where be your pow'rs ? mew now your mended faiths, 
 And inftantly return with me again. 
 To pufh deftru&ion and perpetual fhame 
 Out of the weak door of our fainting land : 
 Strait let us feek, or ftrait we (hall be fought ; 
 The Dauphin rages at our very heels. 
 
 Sal. It feems you know not then fo much as we ; 
 The Cardinal Pandulph is within at reft, 
 Who haJf an hour fince came from the Dauphin \ 
 And brings from him fuch offers of our peace, 
 As we with honour and refpedt may take, 
 With purpofe prefently to leave this war. 
 
 Faulc. He will the rather do it, when he fees 
 Ourfelves well finewed to our defence. 
 
 Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already ; 
 For many Carriages he hath difpatch'd 
 To the fea-fide, and put his Caule and Quarrel 
 To the difpofmg of the Cardinal : 
 With whom yourfelf, myfelf, and other lords, 
 If you think meet, this afternoon will poft 
 To confummate this bufinefs happily. 
 
 Faulc. Let it be fo j and you, my noble Prince, 
 With other Princes that may beft be fpar'd, 
 Shall wait upon your father's Funeral. 
 
 Henry. At Worcefter muft his body be interr'd. 
 For fo he wilPd it. 
 
 Faulc. Thither fhall it then. 
 And happily may your fweet ferf put on 
 The lineal State, and Glory of the Land! 
 To whom, with all Submifiion on my knee, 
 I do bequeath my faithful fervices, 
 And true fubjedtion evcrlaftingly. 
 
 Sal,
 
 King JOHN. 
 
 Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, 
 To reft without a Spot for evermore. 
 
 Henry. I have a kind foul, that would give you 
 
 thanks, 
 And knows not how to do it, but with tears. 
 
 Faulc. Oh, let us pay the time but needful woe, 
 Since it hath been before-hand with our griefs. 
 (a) Thus England never did, nor never fhall, 
 Lye at the proud foot of a Conqueror, 
 But when it firft did help to wound itfelf. 
 Now thefe her Princes are come home again, 
 Come the three corners of the world in arms, 
 And we fhall mock them! Nought mail make us rue, 
 If England to itfelf do reft but true. \_Exmnt omnes, 
 
 [ (a) Thus. Oxford Editor Vulg. This. ] 
 
 The End of the Wird Volume.
 
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