Accessions Shelf No. JJaj to/t L i//j yii v \ %\. ' //// ////'/',; . /"///////// - /;/■// /f .;' Itosfcm JJnWtr f item \ y / /y /'y /y//y // /yy y// //yy _ ////// / y/ ( THEOBALD'S EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE London, 1733. $2Hfr THE WORK O F SHAKESTEAREt IN SEVEN VOLUMES. Collated with the Oldeft Copies, and Corre&ed) With N O T E S, Explanatory, and Critical: By Mr. THEOBALD. Iy Decus, /, nojirum : melioribus utere Fatis. Virg. LONDON: Printed for A. Bettes worth and C. HitcHj J. Tonson, F. Clay, W. Feales, and R. Wellington. MDCC XXXIII. c / * ' *■/*■ / Q r / )l •.■uK***' THE WORKS O F SHAKESTEARE: VOLUME the FIRST. CONTAINING, The Tempest. The Midsummer -Night's Dream. The TwoGentlemen of Verona. Merry Wives of Windsor,, Measure for Measure. Much Ado about No- thing. LONDON: Printed for A,Bettesworth and C. Hitch, J. T q n s o n, F, Clay, W. Feales, and R. Wellington. M DCC XXXIJI. ^^^ft*** DEDICATION. Shakefpeare: and my Duty could do no lefs than throw the Whole under Your Prote&ion. I fhall be eafily pardon'd, tho* I fliould profefs a Sorrow for being reduc'd to make You this unworthy Offering -y be- caufe, I know, Your Lordfliip is truly a Mourner for the Neceffity. The good Lady Orrery (whofe Memory I moft fincerely venerate) did me the Honour of making her early Claim : and it comes now to You by the melancholy Right of Executorlhip, Would it had Merit enough to plead its Intereft duly, as an Orphan and Relict from Co dear a Friend ! It is a Maxim, I think, My Lord, of Monfieur Rochefoucault, that all our A&ions andDefires flow from the Spring of. Self-love. My ardent, but vain, Wiflies that a long Life might crown the Countefs of Orrery s Virtues, I may fay, fprung from a more generous Mo- tive. I had Your Lordfhip's Joy and Intereft principally in View : and wifli'd She DEDICATION. She might furvive, both to have made hap- py Your Bed, and fliared in the Education of thofe dear Pledges, which She has left You, of your mutual Affe&ion. caflum utfervare Cuhile Conjugis, &poJfet parvos educere Natos. I have Your Lordlhip's Word for it, that She was, while living, my very good Friend : an Honour, that I would wi(h to repay, now She is no more, by raiifing a Monument of Gratitude to her Name. Without aiming at her Praife, I can barely hope to dojuftice to her Me- mory! Truth, in an Epitaph or Cha- ra&eriftic, may do the World fbme Ser- vice, while it exhibits a Pattern to be follow'd : but Flattery (b exceeds all Pro- portion, that it leaves no Room for Imitation. I never left your Lordlhip's Houfe, without the ftrongeft Impreflions of thofe Sweets, which endear Connubial Society. All the Qualities, that can make Woman laflingly amiable, were A x centered DEDICATION. center'd in Lady Orrery. The Fond- neft of a Wife, and tender Mother, were eminently confpicuous in all her Behaviour. It was a Pleafure to her to adapt her (elf to all Your Lordfliip's Sentiments : and You could honour None with any Degree of your Friend- fhip, but That was a Merit to recommend them to her Smiles. In her Conversion, the Vivacity of Youth was happily temper'd with the Sagenefs of the Ma- tron. She knew how to be pleafant without Levity, and to difplay Wifdom dfvefted of all its difagreeable Severities. With what Sweetnefs of Deportment She behav'd to her Domefticks, was vifible in that Love and Reverence with which they obey'd her. She maintain'd the Refped; due to her Rank, without be- ing either fupercilious or affe&ed : yet at the fame time knew, that her great Birth and Station ought not to fet her above being the Miftrefs of her Family. Hence, in the Point of your Table, while She confulted your Quality, She took DEDICATION. took Care of your Fortune. Elegance was (b blended with Oeconomy in her Management, it (hew'd Us the Diffe- rence betwixt Plenty and Oftentation. I have prefumed, Your Lordfhip will obferve, to draw but the Outlines of the Pi&ure •, to sketch out that Sym- metry, which diftinguifh'd her equally to every Beholder. To finifh up the Colouring of the Whole, is above my Strength or Vanity. The peculiar Du- ties She paid either to Heaven, or your Lordfhip, are too (acred to be touch'd here. They (land forbid to a vulgar Approach; and I choo(e, as in the Jenvijh Temples, to draw a Curtain a- cro(s that Altar. It might be a childifh Superftition, perhaps, to imagine her too good for this World; but we feel to our Concern, that what made her revered on Earth, qualified her too early for a Saint in Heaven. Oftendunt terns hanc tanturn Fataynecultra Efejinunt. A j I DEDICATION. I fliould fear, my Lord, to awake your Sorrows even with this faint Reca- pitulation of her Virtues, did I not know, the Image of them is engraven pn your Heart; and I am paying but the Rices of a pious, and fympathetick Refped. As I am proud to be thought a Client and Servant of your Family, and claim Your Lordfhip's Patronage as it were by Defcent from your Noble Father, I would profefs a hcoming Ia- tereft in whatever affeBs my Patron. If my Duty, My Lord, be too bold, I have it to plead in Excufe, that it is in fome Meafure warranted by your, own Condudt and Behaviour. That Eafinefs of Addrefs with which I have been received by You, and that Indul- gence which you are pleas'd to fhew mc on every Occafion, ground a fort of habitual Freedom. In Conventions with Your Lordihip, tho* we cannot but re- member the Diftance due to your Qua- lity, yet we find fomething Co engaging on your part, that we imperceptibly Aide on DEDICATION. on the very Confines of Wiendjhip. Your Sweetnefs and Affability always put me in mind of Ovid's Apollo; he reftrain'd the Luftre of his Godhead, when he was to converfe with a mortal Son; -= cirdum Caput omne micantes Vepofmt radios ypropriufque accederejujjit. So, You, my Lord, will not fuffer your Quality to glare upon your Infe- riors : You abati? of the Splendour of a Patrician, and defcend to Us in the Light of the eafy agreeable Gentleman. If You ever ftiew any Referve, it is with Regard to your own Modefty. You there labour to retire within Your (elf; and would fain fhut Us out from the Difcovery of Talents, which you cannot reftrain from ftarting to Obfer- vation. Your Behaviour refembles That of Pyramus and Thishe's Parents, in a PafTage which has employ 'd the Criticks ; Scd vctufyc patres qwdmnpotuere vetare, A 4 Fof D y E D 1 CA T I 0 N. For I have always underftood it thus, that they endeavour d to forbid what they could not prevent. The Confeflion I am going to make, my Lord, is in part an Evidence of this Truth. I had defign'd to obtrude upon You what I had to fay critically of Shakefpeare :■ but your Mo- defty abfblutely denied my Appeal. You would not look upon your felf conver- fant enough in my Author to be ap- pointed Judge of the various parts of his Character; tho' I have borrow'd many Hints from hearing You converfe upon him. I have foften'd the Theft, Sir, in ExprefTion, you fee, in Regard to my felf; and Your Lordfhip may reafb- nably deny the Lofs of the Jewels, which I have difparag'd in the unartful Setting. I may very truly apply to You the Cha- racter, which a much greater Dedicator apply'd to a Patron not fo great : In- genium tale ejl> ut etiam fine Uteris widea- tur outturn effe potuiffe ; tantum autent Li- terarum confecutus esy ut uiney. So that Shakefpeare muft have entred into Wedlock, by that Time he was turn'd of feventeen Years. Whether the Force of Inclination merely, or fome concurring Circumftances of Con- venience in the Match, prompted him to marry fo early, is not eafy to be determin'd at this Diftance : but 'tis probable, a View of Intereft might partly fway his Condudt in this Point : for he married the Daughter of one Hathaway, a fubftantial Yeoman in his Neighbourhood, and She had the Start of him in Age no lefs than 8 Years. She fur- viv'd him, notwithftanding, itvtn Seafons, and dy'd that very Year in which the Players publifh'd the firft Edition of his Works in Folio, Anno Dom. 1623, at the Age of 67 Years, as we likewife learn from her Monu- ment in Stratford-Church. How long he continued in this kind of -Settlement, upon his own Native Spot, is not more eafily to be determin'd. But if the Tra- The PREFACE. vii Tradition be true, of that Extravagance which forc'd him both to quit his Country and way of Living; to wit, his being engag'd, with a Knot of young Deer-ftealers, to rob the Park of Sir Thomas Lucy of Cherlecot near Strat- ford: the Enterprize favours fo much of Youth and Levity, we may reafonably fuppofe it Was before he could write full Man. Befides, confidering he has left us fix and thirty Plays, which are avow'd to be genuine ; ( to throw out of the Queftion thofe Seven, in which his Title is difputed: tho' I can, beyond all Con- troversy, prove fome Touches in every one of them to come from his Pen:) and confix dering too, that he had retir'd from the Stage, to fpend the latter Part of his Days at his own Native Stratford; the Interval of Time, neceflarily required for the finifhing fo many Dramatic Pieces, obliges us to fuppofe he threw himfelf very early upon the Play-houfe* And as he could, probably, contract no Ac- quaintance with the Drama, while he was driving on the Affair of Wool at home; fome Time muft be loft, even after he had com- mene'd Player, before he could attain Know- ledge enough in the Science to qualify him* felf for turning Author. It has been obferv'd by Mr. Rowe^ that, amongft other Extravagancies which our Au- thor has given to his Sir John Falftaffe^ in the Merry Wives of Windfor, he has made him a Deer-ftealer; and that he might at the fame % lime viii The PREFACE. time remember his Warwickfjire Profecutor* tinder the Name of Juftice Shallow, he has given him very near the fame Coat of Arms, which Dugdale, in his Antiquities of that County, defcribes for a Family there. There are two Coats, I obferve, in Dugdale, where three Silver Fifties are borne in the Name of Lucy ; and another Coat, to the Monument of ^Thomas Lucy, Son of Sir William Lucy, in, which are quarter'd in four feveral Divifions, twelve little Fifties, three in each Divifion, probably Luces. This very Coat, indeed, feems alluded to in Shallow's giving the dozen White Luces, and in Slender faying, he may quarter. When I confider the exceeding Can- dour and Good-nature of our Author, (which inclin'd all the gentler Part of the World to love him ; as the Power of his Wit obliged the Men of the moft delicate Knowledge and polite Learning to admire him ; ) and that he fhou Id throw this humorous Piece of Satire at his Profecutor, at leaft twenty Years after the Provocation given 5 I am confidently per- fuaded it muft be owing to an unforgiving Rancour on the Profecutor's Side : and if This was the Cafe, it were Pity but the Dif- grace of fuch an Inveteracy fhould remain as a lafting Reproach, and Shallow fland as a Mark of Ridicule to ftigmatize his Malice. It is faid, our Author fpent fomc Years be- fore his Death, in Eafe, Retirement, and the Conversation of his Friends, at his Native Strat- The PREFACE. 3 Stratford. I could never pick up any certain Intelligence, when He relinquifh'd the Stage. I know, it has been miftakenly thought by fome, that Spenfers Thalia, in his Tears of his Mufes, where fhe laments the Lofs of her Willy in the Comic Scene, has been apply'd to our Author's quitting the Stage. But Spen- fer himfelf, 'tis well known, quitted the Stage of Life in the Year 1598; and,five Years after this, we find Shakejpeare's Name among the Adtors in Ben Jonfons Sejanus, which firfl made its Appearance in the Year 1603. Nor, furely, could he then have any Thoughts of retiring, fince, that very Year, a Licence un- der the Privy-Seal was granted by K. James I. to him and Fletcher, Burbage, Phillippes, Hem- ings, Condel, &c. authorizing them to exercife the Art of playing Comedies, Tragedies, &c. as well at their ufual Houfe call'd the Globe on the other Side of the Water, as in any other Parts of the Kingdom* during his Ma- jefty's Pleafure : (A Copy of which Licence is preferv'd in Rymers Fcedera.) Again, 'tis certain, that Shakefpeare did not exhibit his Macbeth, till after the Union was brought a- bout, and till after K. James I. had begun to touch for the Evil: for 'tis plain, he has infer ted Compliments, on both thofe Ac- counts, upon his Royal Mafter in that Tra- gedy. Nor, indeed, could the Number of the Dramatic Pieces, he produced, admit of his retiring near fo early as that Period. So a 2 that The PREFACE. that what Spenfer there fays, if it relate at all to Shakefpeare, muft hint at fome occafi- onal Recefs he made for a time upon a Dif- guft taken : or the Willy, there mention'd, muft relate to fome other favourite Poet. I believe, we may fafely determine that he had not quitted in the Year 16 10. For in his Tern- pejl, our Author makes mention of the Ber- muda Iflands, which were unknown to the Englijh, till, in 1609, Sir John Summers made a Voyage to North- America, and difcover'd them : and afterwards invited fome of his Countrymen to fettle a Plantation there. That he became the private Gentleman at leaft three Years before his Deceafe, is pretty ob- vious from another Circumftance : I mean, from that remarkable and well-known Story, which Mr. Rowe has given us of our Author's Intimacy with Mr. John Combe, an old Gen- tleman noted thereabouts for his Wealth and Ufury: and upon whom Shakefpeare made the following facetious Epitaph. Ten in the hundred lies here in-grav'd, "Tis a hundred to ten his Soul is not favd-, If any Man ask who lies in this Tomb, Oh! oh! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a- Combe. This farcaftical Piece of Wit was, at the Gentleman's own Requeft, thrown out extem- porally in his Company. And this Mr. John Combe I take to be the fame, who, by Dug- dale but in which he feems the moft deeply in- ftrufled -, and to which, no doubt, he has fo much ow'd that happy Prefervation of his Charac^ The PREFACE. xxi Characters, for which he is juftly celebrated. If he was not acquainted with the Rule as deliver'd by Horace, his own admirable Ge- nius pierc'd into the Neceffity of fuch a Rule. tu,t , . , "■ Serv-etur ad imum Quails ab incceptoprocejferit, %$Jibi con/let. For what can be more ridiculous, than* in our modern Writers, to make a debaqch'd young Man, immers'd in all the Vices of tu$ Age and Time, in a few hours take up, con- fine himfelf in the way of Honour to one Woman, and moralize in good earneft oa tjic Follies of his paft Behaviour ? Nor can, that great Examplar of Comic Writing, Terence be altogether excufed in this Regard ; who, in his Adelphi, has left Demea in the laft. Scenes fo unlike himfelf: whom, as Shake/pear e ex- preflfes it, he has turrid with thefeamy Side of his Wit- outward. This ConduCt, as Errors are more readily imitated than Perfections, Beaumont and Fletcher feem to have follow'd in a Charafter in their Scornful Lady. It may be objected, perhaps, by fome who do, not go to the Bottom of our Poet's ConduCt, that he has likewife tranfgrefs'd againft the Rule himfelf, by making Prince Harry at once, upon coming to the Crown, throw off his former Diffolutenefs, and take up the 'Practice of a fober Morality and all the king- ly Virtues. But this would be a miftaken Objection. The Prince's Reformation is not fo ixii The P R E F A C E. fo fudden, as not to be prepaid and expe&ed by the Audience. He gives* indeed, a Loofc to Vanity, and a light unweigh'd Behaviour, when he is trifling among his diflblute Com- panions; but the Sparks of innate Honour and true Noblenefs break from him upon eve- ry proper Occafion, where we Would hope to fee him awake to Sentiments fuiting his Birth and Dignity. And our Poet has fo well, and artfully, guarded his Character from the Suf- picions of habitual and unreformable Profli- gatenefs ; that even from the firft (hewing him upon the Stage, in the firft Part of Hen- ry IV, when he made him confent to join with Fatftaffe in a Robbery on the High- way, he has taken care not to carry him off the Scene, without an Intimation that he knows them all, and their unyok'd Humour; and that, like the Sun, he will permit them only for a while to obfcure and cloud his Brightnefs ; then break thro* the Mift, when he pleafes to be himfelf again; that his Luf- tre, when wanted, may be the more wonder'd at* Another of Shake/peare's grand Touches of Nature, and which lies (till deeper from the Ken of common Obfervation, has been taken notice of in a Note upon The Tempej}-, where Profpero at once interrupts the Mafque of Spirits, and ftarts into a fudden Paflion and Diforder of Mind. As the latent Caufe of his Emotion is there fully inquir'd into, I fhall no farther dwell upon it here. Such The PREFACE. Such a Conduit in a Poet (as Shakejpeare has manifefted on many like Occafions;) where the Turn of Action arifes from Re- flexions of his Cbara£iersy where the Reafon of it is not exprefs'd in Words, but drawn from the inmoft Refources of Nature, fhews him truly capable of that Art, which is more in Rule than Practice : Ars eft celare Artem. *Tis the Foible of your worfer Poets to make a Parade and Oftentation of that little Science they have \ and to throw it out in the moft ambitious Colours. And whenever a Writer of this Clafs fhall attempt to copy thefe art- ful Concealments of our Author, and fhall either think them eafy, or pra&ifed by a Writer for his Eafe, he will foon be convinced of his Miflake by the Difficulty of reaching the Imitation of them. Speret idem^fudet multum^fruftrdq^ labored Aufus idem : ■ ■ Another grand Touch of Nature in our Author, (not lefs difficult to imitate, tho* more obvious to the Remark of a common Reader) is, when he brings down at once any Character from the Ferment and Height of Paflxon, makes him corredt himfelf for the unruly Difpofition, and fall into Reflexions of a fober and moral Tenour. An exquifite fine Inftance of this Kind occurs in Leary where that old King, hafty and intemperate in his Paflions, coming to his Son and Daugh- b ter xxiii xxiv The PREFACE. ter Cornwall, is told by the Earl of Gloucefter that they are not to be fpoken with: and thereupon throws himfelf into a Rage, fup- pofing the Excufe of Sieknefs and Wearinefs in them to be a purpos'd Contempt: Glou- cefter begs him to think of the fiery and unremoveable Quality of the Duke : and This, which was defign'd to qualify his Paflion, ferves to exaggerate the Tranfports of it. As the Condudl of Prince Henry in the firft Inftance, the fecret and mental Reflexions in the Cafe of Profpero, and the inftant Detour of Lear from the Violence of Rage to a Tem- per of Reafoning, do fo much Honour to that furpizing Knowledge of human Nature, which is certainly our Author's Mafterpiece, 1 thought, they could not be fet in too good a Light. Indeed, to point out, and exclaim upon, all the Beauties of Shakefpeare, as they .come fingly in Review, would be as infipid, as endlefs ; as tedious, as unneceffary : But the Explanation of thofe Beauties,that are lefs ob- vious to common Readers, and whofe Illus- tration depends on the Rules of juft Criticifm, and an exaft Knowledge of human Life, fliould defervedly have a Share in a general Critic upon the Author. I fhall difmifs the Examination into thefe his latent Beauties, when I have made a fhort Comment upon a remarkable PafTage from Julius Ccrjar, which is inexprefiibly fine in its felf, The PREFACE. xxv its fclf, and greatly difcovers our Author's^- Add»- Knowledge and Researches into Nature. He ^pa- redy an * Between the afting of a dreadful Thing, ^uL And thefirfl Motion, all the Interim is Like a Phantafma, or a hideous 'Dream: The Genius, and the mortal Infiruments Are then in Council*, and the State of Man% hike to a little Kingdom, fuffers then The Nature of an Infurreffion. That nice Cfitick Dionyfus of Halicarnaf fus confefles, that he could not find thofe great Strokes, which he calls the terrible Graces^ in any of the Hiftorians, which he frequently met with in Homer. I believe, the Succefs would be the fame likewife* if we fought for them in any other of our Authors befides our £r/- iijh Homer, Shakefpeare. This Defcription of the Condition of Confpirators has a Pomp and Terror in it^ that perfectly aftonifhes* Our excellent Mr. Addifon,vth.okMofe&y made him fometimes diffident in his own Genius, but whofe exquilite Judgment always led him to the fafeft Guides, as we may fee by thofe many fine Strokes in his Cato borrow'd from the Philippics of Cicero, has paraphrafed this fine Defcription ; but we are no longer to ex- pert thofe terrible Graces, which he could not hinder from evaporating in the Trans~ fufion* b % 0 xxvi The PREFACE. 0 think, what anxious Moments pafs between The Birth of Plots, and their lujl fatal Periods. Oh, 'tis a dreadful Interval of Time, FUN up with Horror alt, and big with Death, 1 fhall obferve two Things on this fine Imi- tation : firft, that the Subjects of thefe two Confpiracies being fo very different* (the For- tunes of Cafar and the Roman Empire being concern'd in the Firft ; and That of only a few Auxiliary Troops, in the other;) Mv.Ad- dijon could not with Propriety bring in that magnificent Circumftance, which gives the terrible Grace to Shakefpeare's Defcription. The Genius and the mortal Injlruments Are then in Council. — For Kingdoms, in the poetical Theology* befides their good, have their evil Genius*s likewife : reprefented here with the moft da- ring Stretch of Fancy, as fitting in Council with the Confpirators, whom he calls the mortal Injlruments. But this would have been too great an Apparatus to the Rape, and De- fertion* of Syphax, and Sempronius. Second- ly, The other Thing very obfervable is, that Mr. Addifon was fo warm'd and affected with the Fire of Shakejpeare's Defcription , that, inftead of copying his Author's Sentiments, he has, before he was aware, given us only the Image of his own Impreffions on the reading his great Original. For, Oh, The PREFACE. xxvii Oh, 'tis a dreadful Interval of Time, FiHyd up with Horror all, and big with Death \ are but the Affettions raifed by fuch forcible Images as thefe ; _ — . jlU the Int'rim is Like a Phantafma, or a hideous Dream, — — the State of Man, "Like to a little Kingdom, fuffers then The Nature of an InfurreBion. Comparing the Mind of a Confpirator to an Anarchy, is juft and beautiful ; but the In* terim to a hideous Dream has fomething in it fo wonderfully natural, and lays the human Soul fo open, that one cannot but be furpriz'd, that any Poet, who had not himfelf been, fome time or other, engaged in a Confpiracy, could ever have given fuch Force of Colour-? ing to Truth and Nature. It has been allow'd on all hands, how^^J**/ far our Author was indebted to Nature -, it is shake- not fo well agreed, how much he ow'd tofpeareV Languages and acquir'd Learning. The De- \eardn,ll% cifions on this Subjedl were certainly fet on ' Foot by the Hint from Ben jonfon, that he had fmall Latin and lefs Greek: And from this Tradition, as it were, Mr. Rowe has thought fit peremptorily to declare, that, " It f is without Controverfy, he had no Know- " ledge of the Writings of the ancient Poets, g for that in his Works we find no Traces of t> 3 "any it cc cc ) and the natural Bent " of his own great Genius (equal, if not fu- perior, to fome of the Beft of theirs;) would certainly have led him to read and ftudy them with fo much Pleafure, that fome of their fine Images would naturally " have infinuated themfelves into, and been mix'd with, his own Writings : fo that his not copying, at leafl, fomething from them, may be an Argument of his never felf. But Shakejpeare, indebted more largely to Nature, than the Other to acquired Ta- lents, in his moft negligent Hours could ne^ ver fo totally diveft himfelf of his Genius, but that it would frequently break out with aftonifhing Force and Splendor. m Repu- As I have never propos'd to dilate farther tation un- on the Chara&er of my Author, than was der D'f*d neceffary to explain the Nature and Ufe of vantages tj:i£s Edition, I fhall proceed to pnfiderhim as a Genius in Poffeffion of an Everlafting Name. And how great that Merit muft be, which could gain it againft all the Difadvan- tages of the horrid Condition in which he has hitherto appear'd ! Had Homer, or any other admir'd Author, firft ftarted into PubJick fo maim'd and deform'd, we cannot determine whether they had not funk for ever under the Ignominy of fuch an ill Appearance. The mangled Condition of Shakefpeare has been acknowledge by Mr. Rowey who publifh'd him indeed, but neither corre&ed his Text, nor collated the old Copies. This Gentleman had Abilities, and a fufficient Knowledge of his The P'R E F ACE. xxxv his Author, had but his Induftry been equal to his Talents. The fame mangled Condition has been acknowledge too by Mr. Pope, who publifli'd him likewife, pretended to have col- lated the old Copies, and yet feldom has cor- rected the Text but to its Injury. I congratu- late with the Manes of our Poet, that this Gentleman has been fparing in indulging his private Senfe ; for He, who tampers with an Author whom he does not underftand, mull do it at the Expence of his Subject. I have made it evident throughout my Remarks, that he has frequently inflidted a Wound where he intended a Cure. He has afted with re- gard to our Author, as an Editor, whom L i p s i u s mentions, did with regard to Martial ; Inventus eft nefcio quis Popa, qui non vitia ejus, fed ipfum, excidit. He has attack'd him like an unhandy Slaughterman ; and not lopp'd off the Errors, but the Poet. When this is found to be the Fad, how/W/* abfurd muft appear the Praifes of fuch an E-^^'f " ditor ? It feems a moot Point, whether Mr.** *jwy° Pope has done moft Injury to Shakefpeare as his Editor and Eacomiaft ; or Mr. ^Rymer done him Service as his Rival and Cenfurer. Were it every where the true Text, which That Editor in his late pompous Edition gave us, the Poet deferv'd not the large Encomiums be- ftow'd by him: nor, in that Cafe, is Rymer's Cenfure of the Barbarity of his Thoughts, and xxxvi m p R E F A C E. and the Impropriety of his Expreffions, groundlefs. They have Both (hewn themfelves in an equal Impuijfance of fufpe&ing or a- mending the corrupted Paflages : and tho' it be neither Prudence to cenfure, or commend, what one does not underftand; yet if a Man muft do one when he plays the Crhiek, the latter is the more ridiculous Office. And by That Shakefpeare fuffers- moft For the natural Veneration, which we have for him, makes us apt to f wallow whatever is given us as bis§ and fet off with Encomiums ; and hence we quit all Sufpicions of Depravity : On the con- trary, the Cenfure of fo divine an Author fets us upon his Defence $ and this produces an exaft Scrutiny and Examination, which ends in finding out and difcriminating the true from the fpurious. It is not with any fecret Pleafure, that I fo frequently animadvert on Mr. Pope as a Cri- tickj but there are Provocations, which a Man can never quite forget. His Libels have been thrown out with fo much Inveteracy, that* not to difpute whether they Jhould come from &Chrijlian, they leave it a Queftion whether they could come from a Man. I fliould be loth to doubt, as Quintus Serenus did in a like Cafe, Sim homo \ feu fimilh turpijjima bejlia nobis > Vulnera dente dedit. The Indignation, perhaps, for being repre* fented a Blockhead^ may be as ftrong in Us as it The PREFACE. xxxvii it is in the Ladies for a Reflexion on their Beauties. It is certain, I am indebted to Him for fome flagrant Civilities ; and I fhall wil- lingly devote a part of my Life to the honeft Endeavour of quitting Scores: with this Ex- ception however, that I will not return thofe Civilities in \\x% peculiar Strain, but confine myfelf, at leaft, to the Limits of common De- cency. I {hall ever think it better to want Wity than to want Humanity : and impartial Pofte- rity may, perhaps, be of my Opinion. But, to return to my Subje<5t$ which now The old calls upon me to inquire into thofe Caufes, to Editions which the Depravations of my Author origi-^^ nally may be affign'd. We are to confider him as a Writer, of whom no authentic Manufcript was extant j as a Writer, whofe Pieces were difperfedly performed on the fe- veral Stages then in Being. And it was the Cuftom of thofe Days for the Poets to take a Price of the Players for the Pieces They from time to time furnifh'd ; and thereupon it was fuppos'd, they had no farther Right to print them without the Confent of the Players. As it was the Intereft of the Companies to keep their Plays unpublifh'd, when any one fucceeded, there was a Conteft betwixt the Curiofity of the Town, who demanded to fee it in Print, and the Policy of the Stagers, who wifh'd to fecrete it within their own Walls. Hence, many Pieces were taken down in Short-hand, and imperfe&ly copied by xxxviii TheP R E F A C E. by Ear, from a Reprefentation : Others were printed from piece-meal Parts furreptitioufly obtain'd from the Theatres, uncorreft, and without the Poet's Knowledge. To fome of thefe Caufes we owe the train of Blemifties, that deform thofe Pieces which ftole fingly into the World in our Author's Life-time. There are ftill other Reafons, which may be fuppos'd t6 have affedted the whole Set. When the Players took upon them to publifh his Works intire, every Theatre was ran- fack'd to fupply the Copy ; and Parts collect- ed which had gone thro* as many Changes as Performers, either from Mutilations or Ad- ditions made to them. Hence we derive many Chafms and Incoherences in the Senfe and Matter. Scenes were frequently tranfpofed, and fhuffled out of their true Place, to humour the Caprice or fuppos'd Convenience of fome particular A&or. Hence much Confufion and Impropriety has attend- ed, and embarras'd, the Bufinefs and Fable. For there ever have been, and ever will be in Playhoufes, a Set of affuming Directors, who know better than the Poet himfelf the Con- nexion and Dependance of his Scenes ; where Matter is defective, or Superfluities to be retrench'd \ Perfons, that have the Foun- tain of Infpiration as peremptorily in them, as Kings have That of Honour. To thefe obvi- ous Caufes of Corruption it mud be added, that our Author has lain under the Difadvan- tage The PREFACE. xxxix tage of having his Errors propagated and multiplied by Time: becaufe, for near a Century, his Works were republifh'd from the faulty Copies without the affiftance of any intelligent Editor: which has been the Cafe likewife of many a ClaJJic Writer. The Nature of any Diftemper once found r-be Edi- has generally been the immediate Step to ^jor^ Drift Cure. Shake/peare's Cafe has in a great Mea-^^ fure refembled That of a corrupt ClaJJic \ and, confequently3 the Method of Cure was likewife to bear a Refemblance. By what Means, and with what Succefs, this Cure has been effed:ed on ancient Writers, is too well known, and needs no formal Illuftration. The Reputation confequent on Tasks of that Nature invited me to attempt the Method here ; with this View, the Hopes of reftoring to the Publick their greateft Poet in his Ori- ginal Purity : after having fo long lain in a Condition that was a Difgrace to common Senfe. To this End I have ventur'd on a La- bour, that is the firft AiTay of the kind on any modern Author whatfoever. For the late Edi- tion of Milton by the Learned Dr. Bentley is, D;ference in the main, a Performance of another %pt&bet ti IT 1 O 1 /V ' tl0n aH<* Great Man rather to correct and pare off theDr, Bent- Excrefcencies of the Paradife. Loft, in the,e^jMii* manner that Tucca and Varins were employ'd to criticize the JEneis of Virgil, than to re- ftore corrupted PafTages. Hence, therefore, c may xl fhePREFACE. \ may be feen either the Iniquity or Ignorarice of his Cenfurers, who, from fome Expref- fions, would make us believe, the Doctor every where gives us his Corrections as the Original Text of the Author ; whereas the chief Turn of his Criticifm is plainly to fhew the World, that if Milton did not write as He would have him, he ought to have wrote fa I thought proper to premife this Obferva- tion to the Readers, as it will (hew that the Critic on Shakefpeare is of a quite different Kind. His genuine Text is religioufly adher'd to, and the numerous Faults and Blemifhes, purely his own, are left as they were found. Nothing is alter'd, but what by the cleareft Reafoning can be proved a Corruption of the true Text; and the Alteration, a real Refto- ration of the genuine Reading. Nay, fo ftrictly have I ftrove to give the true Rea- ding, tho' fometimes not to the Advantage of my Author, that I have been ridiculoufly ri- dicul'd for it by Thofe, who either were iniquitoufly for turning every thing to my Difadvantage; or elfe were totally ignorant of the true Duty of an Editor. The Science of Criticifm, as far as it af- fedts an Editor, feems to be reduced to thefe three Claffes; the Emendation of corrupt PafTages; the Explanation of obfcure and difficult ones j and an Inquiry into the Beau- ties and Defedts of Compofition. This Work is The PREFACE. is principally confin'd to the two for- mer Parts : tho' there are fome Specimens interfpers'd of the latter >Kind, as feveral of the Emendations were beft fupported, and feveral of the Difficulties beft explain'd, by taking notice of the Beauties and Defefts of the Compofition peculiar to this Immortal Poet. But This was but occafional, and for the fake only of perfe<5ting the two other Parts, which were the proper Objects of the Editor's Labour. The third lies open for every willing Undertaker : and I fhall be pleas'd to fee it the Employment of a mafterly Pen. It muft neceflarily happen, as I have for- merly obferv'd, that where the Afliftance of Manufcripts is wanting to let an Author's Meaning right, and refcue him from thofe Errors which have been tranfmittei downf thro' a Series of incorrect Editions, and a long Intervention of Time,many Paffages muft be defperate, and paft a Cure ; and their true Senfe irretrievable either to Care or the Saga- city of Conje&ure. But is there any Reafon therefore to fay, That becaufe All cannot be retriev'd, All ought to be left defperate ? We ftiould (hew very little Honefty, or Wifdom, to play the Tyrants with an Author's Text \ to raze, alter, innovate, and overturn, at all Adventures, and to the utter Detriment of his Senfe and Meaning : But to be fo very referved and cautious, as to interpofe no Re- c 2 lief xlt xlii The PREFACE.. I lief or Conjedlure, where it manifestly la- bours and cries out for Afiiftance, feems, on the other hand, an indolent Abfurdity. But becaufe the Art of Criticifm, both by Thofe who cannot form a true Judgment of its Effefts, nor can penetrate into its Caufes, which takes in a great Number befides the Ladies;) is efteem'd only an arbitrary capri- cious Tyranny exercis'd on Books; I think proper to fubjoin a Word or two about thofe Rules on which I have proceeded, and by which I have regulated myfelf in this Edi- tion. By This, I flatter myfelf, it will ap- pear, my Emendations are fo far from being arbitrary or capricious, that They are eftab- li(h'd with a very high Degree of moral Cer- tainty. As thjfcre are very few Pages in Skakefpeare^ .upon which fome Sufpicions of Depravity do "hot reasonably a rife ; I have thought it my Duty, in the firft place, by a diligent and la- borious Collation to take in the Affiftances of all the older Copies. In his Hijiorical Plays y whenever our Eng- HJh Chronicles, and in his Tragedies when Creek or Roman Story, could give any Light; no Pains have been omitted to fet Paffages right by comparing my Author with his Ori- ginals : for, as I have frequently obferved, he was a clofe and accurate Copier where-ever his Fable was founded on Hifiory. Where- The PREFACE. xliii Where-ever the Author's Senfe is clear and difcoverable, (tho', perchance, low and tri- vial ;) I have not by any Innovation tamper'd with his Text; out of an Oftentation of en- deavouring to make him fpeak better than the old Copies have done. Where, thro' all the former Editions, a Paffage has labour'd under flat Nonfenfe and invincible Darknefs, if, by the Addition or Alteration of a Letter or two, I have reftored to Him both Senfe and Sentiment, fuch Cor- rections, I am perfuaded, will need no Indul- gence, And whenever I have taken a greater Lati- tude and Liberty in amending, I have con- ftantly endeavoured to fupport my Corrections and Conjectures by parallel Paffages and Au- thorities from himfelf, the fureit Means of expounding any Author whatfoever* Cettf *oo'ie d' interpreter un Autheur par lui-meme ejl plus Jure que torn les Comment aires, fays a very learned French Critick. As to my Notes, (from which the common and learned Pleaders of our Author, I hope, will derive fome Pleafure;) I have endea- voured to give them a Variety in fome Propor- tion to their Number. Where-ever I have ventur'd at an Emendation, a Note is constant- ly fubjoin'd to juftify and aflert the Reafon of it. Where I only offer a Conjecture, and do not difturb the Text, I fairly fet forth my Grounds for fuch Conjecture, and fubmit it c 3 to xtlV The PREFACE. to Judgment. Some Remarks are fpent in explaining Paffages, where the Wit or Satire depends on an obfcure Point of Hiftory : Ci- thers, where Allufions are to Divinity, Phi- lofophy, or other Branches of Science. Some are added to (hew, where there is a Sufpicion of our Author having borrow'd from the An- tients : Others, to (hew where he is rallying his Contemporaries 5 or where He himfelfis rallied by them. And forne are neceflarily thrown in, to explain an c-bfcure and obfolete Term, Phrafe, or Idea. I once intended to have added a complete and copious GloJJiiry ; but as I have been importun'd, and am pre- paid, to give a correct Edition of our Au- thor's Poems, (in which many Terms oc- cur that are not to be met with in his Plays,) I thought a Gloffary to all Sbakefpeares Works more proper to attend that Volume. In reforming an infinite Number of Para- ges in the 'Pointing, where the Senfe was be- fore quite loft, 1 have frequently fubjoin'd Notes to fhew the depravd, and to prove the reform d, Pointing : a Part of Labour in this Work which I could very willingly have fpared myfelf. May it not be objected, why then have you burthen'd us with thefe Notes ? The Anfwer is obvious, and, if I miftake not, very material. Without fuch Notes, thefe PafTages in fubfequent Editions would be li- able, thro' the Ignorance of Printers and Cor- rectors, to fall into the old Confufion : Where- as The PREFACE. xlv as, a Note on every one hinders all poffible Return to Depravity ; and for ever fecures them in a State of Purity and Integrity not to be loft or forfeited. Again, as fome Notes have been neceffary to point out the Detection of the corrupted Text, and eftablifh the Reftoration of the ge- nuine Readings \ fome others have been as ne- ceffary for the Explanation of Paflages ob- fcure and difficult. To underftand the Nc-Caufa of ceffity and Ufe of this Part of my Task, fome f ■£"?"' Particulars of my Author s Character are pre- fpeare. vioufly to be explain'd. There are Obfcuri- fies in him, which are common to him with all Poets of the fame Species ; there are O- thers, the Iffue of the Times he liv'd in.; and there are Others, again, peculiar to himfelf. The Nature of Comic Poetry being entirely fatyrical, it bufies itfelf more in expofing what we call Caprice and Humour, than Vices cog- nizable to the Laws. The Englijh, from the Happinefs of a free Conftitution, and a Turn of Mind peculiarly fpeculative and inquifitive, are obferv'd to produce more Humourifts and a greater Variety of Original Characters, than any other People whatfoever : And Thefe owing their immediate Birtji to the peculiar Genius of each Age, aa infinite Number of Things alluded to, glanced at, and e^pos'd, muft needs become obfqure, as the Chambers themfelves are antiquated, and difufed. An Editor therefore fhojuld be well vers'd in the c 4 Hiftory lvi The PRE FACE. Hiftory and Manners of his Author's Age, if he aims at doing him a Service :n this Re- fpedt. Eefides, Wit lying moftly in the AfTemblage of Ideas, and in the putting Thofe together with Quicknefs and Variety, wherein can be found any Refemblance, or Congruity, to make up pleafant Pidtures, and agreeable Vi- fions in the Fancy; the Writer, who aims at Wit, mull of courfe range far and wide for Materials. Now, the Age, in which Shake- fpeare liv'd, having, above all others, a won- derful AfFedlion to appear Learned, They de- clined vulgar Images, fuch as are immediate- ly fetch'd from Nature, and rang'd thro' the Circle of the Sciences to fetch their Ideas from thence. But as the Refemblances of fuch Ideas to the Subject mull neceffarily lie very much out of the common Way, and every piece of Wit appear a Riddle to the Vul- gar; This, that fliould have taught them the forced, quaint, unnatural Trad: they were in, (and induce them to follow a more natural One,) was the very Thing that kept them at- tached to it. The oftentatious Affectation of abftrufe Learning, peculiar to that Time, the Love that Men naturally have to every Thing that looks like Myftery, fixed them down to this Habit of Obfcurity. Thus became the Poetry oFDonne (tho* the wittieft Man of that Age,) noihing but a continued Heap of Riddles. And our Shakejpeare, with all his eafy The PREFACE. xhii eafy Nature about him, for want of the Know- ledge of the true Rules of Art, falls frequent- ly into this vicious Manner. The third Species of Obfcurities, which deform our Author, as the EfFe&s of his own Genius and Chara&er, are Thofe that proceed from his peculiar Manner of Thinking, and as peculiar a Manner of cloathing thofe Thoughts. With regard to his Thinking, it is certain, that he had a general Knowledge of all the Scien- ces : But his Acquaintance was rather That of a Traveller, than a Native. Nothing in Phi- lofophy was unknown to him ; but every Tiling in it had the Grace and Force of No- velty. And as Novelty is one main Source of Admiration, we are not to wonder that He has perpetual Allufions to the moft recondite Parts of the Sciences : and This was done not fo. much out of AfFe&ation, as the Effect of Admiration begot by Novelty. Then, as to his Style and Diffion, we may much more juftly apply to Shakespeare, what a ce- lebrated Writer has faid of Milton; Our Language funk under him, and was unequal to that Greatnefs of Soul which furnijtid him with juch glorious Conceptions. He therefore frequently ufes old Words, to give his Diction an Air of Solemnity; as he coins others, to exprefs the Novelty and Variety of his Ideas. Upon every diftinft Species of thefe Obfcu- rities I have thought it my Province to em- ploy a Note, for the Service of my Author, and xlviii The PREFACE. and the Entertainment of my Readers. A few tranfient Remarks too I have not fcru- pled to intermix, upon the Poet's Negligences and OmiJJmm in point of Art ; but I have done it always in fuch a Manner, as will teftify my Deference and Veneration for the Immor- tal Author. Some Cenfurers of Shakejpeare, and particularly Mr. Rymer, have taught me to diftinguifh betwixt the Railer and CriticL The Outrage qf his Quotations is fo remark- ably violent, fo pufh'd beyond all Bounds of Pecency and fober Reafpning, that it quite carries over the Mark at which it was levell'd. Extravagant Abufe throws off the Edge of the intended Difparagement, and turns the Madman's Weapon into his own Bofom. In fhort, as to Rymer, This is my Opinion of him from his Criticifms on the Tragedies of the Laft Age, HCe writes with great Vivacity, and appears to have been a Scholar : but, as for his Knowledge of the Art of Poetry, I can't perceive it was any deeper than his Ac*. quaintance with Bojju and Dacier, from whom he has tranferibed many of his beft Reflexi- ons. The late Mr. Gil Jon was One attached to Rymer by a limilar Way of Thinking and Studies. They were Both of that Species of Crkicks, who are defirous of difplaying their Powers rather in finding Faults, than in con- futing the Improvement of the World : the hypercritical Part of the Science of Criticifm. I had The P R E F A C E. tU I had not mentioned the modeft Liberty I have here and there taken of animadverting on my Author, but that I was willing to ob- viate in time the fplenetick Exaggerations of my Adverfaries on this Head. From paft Experiments I have Reafon to be confcious, in what Light this Attempt may be placed : and that what I call a modeft Liberty, will, by a little of their Dexterity, be inverted in- to downright Impudence, From a hundred mean and difhoneft Artifices employ'd to dis- credit this Edition, and to cry down its Ed** tor, I have all the Grounds in Nature to be aware of Attacks. But tho* the Malice of Wit join'd to the Smoothnefs of Verfification inay furnifh fome Ridicule; Fa£t, I hope, will be able to ftand its Ground againft Ban- ter and Gaiety. It has been my Fate, it feems, as I thought Shake- it my Duty, to difcover fome Anachronifms in J^|'a_ our Author; which might have flept in Ob- nifmsde- fcurity but for this Rejlorer, as Mr. Pope \%fmded* pleas'd affectionately to ftyle me; as, for In- stance, where Arijlotle is mentioned by HeSlor in Troilus and Crejftda : and Galen, Cato, and Alexander the Great, in Coriolanus. Thefe, in Mr. Popes Opinion, are Blunders, which the Illiteracy of the firft Publishers of his Works has father'd upon the Poet's Memory: it not being at all credible, that Thefe could be the Errors of any Man who had the leajl Tinc- ture of a School, or the leajl Converjation with Such 1 The PREFACE. Such as bad. But I have fufficiently proved, in the Courfe of my Notes , that fuch Ana- chronifms were the EfFedt of poetic Licence, rather than of Ignorance in our Poet. And if I may. be permitted to ask a modeft Quef- Mr.PopeV tion by the way, Why may not I reftore an Anachro- . Anachronifm really made by our Author, as nijms ex- J i ' t» • • i r amind. well as Mr. Pope take the Privilege to fix o- thers upon him, which he never had it in his Head to make; as I may venture to affirm He had not, in the Inftance of Sir Francis Drake, to which I have fpoke in the proper Place ? But who fhall dare make any Words about this Freedom of Mr. Popes towards Shake- fpeare, if it can be prov'd, that, in his Fits of Criticifm, he makes no more Ceremony with good Homer himfelf? To try, then, a Criticifm of his own advancing -, In the 8th Book of the Odyffey, where Demodocus lings the Epifode of the Loves of Mars and Venus -, and that, upon their being taken in the Net by Vulcan, * — cc the God of Arms " Mitji pay the Penalty for lawlejs Charms; Mr. Pope is fo kind gravely to inform us, " That Homer in This, as in many other Pla- " ces, feems to allude to the Laws of Athens, " where Death was the Punifhment of Adul- 4< tery." But how is this fignificant Obferva- tion made out ? Why, who can poffibly ob- * -*v onv Thing to the Contrary ? Does not Paufa- The PREFACE. li Paufanias relate, that Draco the Lawgiver to the Athenians granted Impunity to any Per [on that took Revenge upon an Adulterer ? And was it not alfo the Institution of Solon, that if Any One took an Adulterer in the Fa£l, he might ufe him as he pleas' d? Thefe Things are very- true : and to fee What a good Memory, and found Judgment in Conjunction can atchieve! Tho' Homers Date is not determin'd down to a fingle Year, yet 'tis pretty generally agreed that he liv'd above 300 Years before Draco and Solon : And That, it feems, has made him feem to allude to the very Laws, which thefe Two Legiflators propounded above 300 Years after. If this Inference be not fome- thing like an Anachronifm or Prolepjis, I'll look once more into my Lexicons for the true Meaning of the Words. It appears to m«, that fomebody befides Mars and Venus has been caught in a Net; by this Epifode : and I could call in other Inftances to confirm what treacherous Tackle this Network is, if not cautioufly handled. How juft, nocwithftanding, I have been in dete&ing the Anachroniims of my Author, and in defending him for the Ufe of them, Our late Editor feems to think, They fhould rather have flept in Obfcurity : and the hav- ing diicovered them is fneer'd at, as a fort of wrong-headed Sagacity. The numerous Corrections, which I made of the Poet's Text in my Shakespeare Re/lord, iu Tie PRE FA CM. ReJior% and which the Publick have been fo kind to think Well of, are^ in the Appendix of Mr. Pope** laft Edition, flightingly call'd Various Readings, GueJJ'es, &c. He confefles to have inferted as many of them as he judged of any the leaft Advantage to the Poet 3 bat fays, that the Whole amounted to about 25 Words: atid pretends to have annexed a com- jpleat Lift of the Reft, which were not worth his embracing. Whoever has read my Book will at one glance fee, how in both thefe Points Veracity is ftfain'd, fo an Injury might but be done* Malus etji ohejfe non potey tamen cogitat. Literal Another Expedient, to make my Work ap- Criticifm pCaf of a trifling Nature, has been an At- *fen tempt to depreciate Literal Criticifm. To this Endj and to pay a fervile Compliment to Mr. Pope> an Anonymous Writer has, like a Scotch Pedlar in Wit> unbraced his Pack on the Subjedt. But, that his Virulence might not feem to be levelled fingly at Me, he has done Me the Honour to join Dr. Bentley in the Libel. I was in hopes, We ftiould have been Both abufed with Smartnefs of Satire, at leaft; tho' not with Solidity of Argument: that it might have been worth fome Reply in Defence of the Science attacked. But I may fairly fay of this Author, as Faljiaffe does of Poins \ . » Hang him, Baboon I his Wit is as thick as Tewksbury Mujiard ; there u no more Conceit in him> than is in a Mal- let. The PREFACE. let. If it be not Prophanation to fet the Opinion of the divine Longinus againft fuch a Scribler, he tells us exprefly, " That to " make a Judgment upon Words (and Writ- cc ings) is the moft confummatc Fruit of «7^f Xoyw x^Jiais •sroAA^s ££t '&■&£&$ tsxAitoulov iiri^v^juLa,, When- ever Words are depraved, the Scnfe of courfe muft be corrupted ; and thence the Readers betray 'd into a falfe Meaning. Tho' I fhould be convifted of Pedantry by fomc, I'll ven- ture to fubjoin a few flagrant Inflances, in which I have obferved moft Learned Men have fuffer'd themfelves to be deceived, and confe- quently led their Readers into Error : and This for want of the Help of Literal Critic cifm : in fome, thro* Indolence and Inadver- tence : in others, perhaps, thro' an abfolute Contempt of It. If the Subject may feem to invite this Digreffion, I hope, the life and application will ferve to excufe it. I. In that golden Fragment, which we have piatonius left of Platonius, upon the three Kinds of <*rr'^- Greek Comedy, after he has told us> that when the State of Athens was alter'd from a Democrafy to an Oligarchy, and that the Poets grew cautious whom they libell'd in their Comedies ; when the People had no lon- ger any Defire to cboofe the accuftom'd Offi- cers for furnifhing Choric Singers, and defray- ing the Expence of them, Ariftophanes brought ©n a Piay in which there was no Chorus. For, fubjoins li* The P R E F A C E. fubjoins He, Jfi $ XOPET TflTN ffn x«&>~ T£?(poL$, vTre^Yipe&n m$ K.cojjL^iacs to. %o^jotct /me- A>?) Key t^J* viro^feaecav o T£p7r©* fjLeTefZAii&y. cc 73fe Chorus-Singers being no longer chofen by " Suffrage, and the Furnifhers of the Chorus «V. * That the * Furnijhers of Chorus's being no + xoP<£- " longer ele&ed by Suffrage, and the \ Cho- " rus-Singers having no Provifion made for " them, Chorus's were abolifhed, and the Sub- " jedts of Comedies alter'd. II. There is another more egregious Error ftill fubfifting in this inftrudtive Fragment, which TtoV. " The P R E F A C E. Ir which has likewife efcaped the Notice of the Learned. The Author is faying, that, in the old Comedy, the Masks were made fo nearly to refemble the Perfons to be fatirized, that before the Adtor fpoke a Word, it was known whom he was to perfonate. But, in the New Comedy, when Athens was conquered by the Macedonians, and the Poets were fearful left their Masks fhould be conftrued to refemble any of their New Governors, they formed them fo prepofteroufly as only to move Laugh- ter ; ogpfjfyj ySu ( fays He ) t Toii Q7rooi cf^er&LjjLijfyjQv to 2 £f M A, $ bH Hp AW" Sr&irwv cpuffiv. " We fee therefore what flrange " Eyebrows there are to the Masks ufed in Me- " nander'j Comedies ; and how the Body is dif- " torted, and unlike any human Creature alive" But the Author, 'tis evident, is fpeaking ab- ftra&edly of Masks; and what Reference has the Diftortion of the Body to the Look of a Vifor ? I am fatisfied, Platonius wrote ; xj o-roos dfyQv to "O MM A, i. e. "and how " the Eyes were goggled and dijlorted" This is to the Purpofe of his Subject : and Jul. Pollux, in describing the Comic Mafques, fpeaks of fome that had STPEBAON to "OMMA: Others, that were AIA'STPO- OOI r *0¥IN. Perversis oculis, as Cicero calls them, fpeaking of Rofcius. III. Suidas, in the fhort Account that he Camera- has given us of Sophocles, tells us, that, be- jj5£? d fides mijtakcL Ivi The PREFACE. fides Dramatic Pieces, he wrote Hymns and Elegies ; ^ Xoyov ycocrocAoyct^Uu it%c t# XopS *&&$ (dzoouiv £ Xoig/hov aycovifyfjfyj©*. This tne Learned Camerarius has thus tranflated : Scrip- Jit Oratione folutd de Choro contra Thefpin £? Choerilum quempiatn. And Keujier likewife underftood, and render'd, the Paffage to the fame Effedt. He owns, the Place is obfcure, and fufpedted by him. " For how could So- " phocfes contend with Thefpis and Choerilus, Meurfuts, as well as Camerarius, have expounded This, as if Sophocles furviv'd Eu- ripides fix Years. But the beft Accounts a- gree that they died both in the fame Year, a little before the Frogs of Ariftophanes was play'd ; fell. Olymp. 93, 3. The Meaning, therefore, of the Paffage is, as fome of the Com- The PREFACE. Ivii Commentators, have rightly obferv'd -, That Sophocles died after Euripides, at 90 Tears of Age. The Miftake arofe from hence, that, in Numerals, ej- fignifies as well 6 as 90. V. The Learned Father Brumoy too, who *ftber - has lately given us three Volumes upon the m^kln, Theatre of the Greeks, has flipt into an Error about Sophocles; for, fpeaking of his Antigone, he tells us, it was in fuch Requeft as to be perform'd Two and Thirty times ; Elle fut reprefentee trente deux fois. The Account, on which This is grounded, we have from the Argument prefix'd to Antigone by Arijlophanes the Grammarian : and the Latin Tranflator of this Argument* probably, led Father Brumoy into his Miftake, and he (hould have referr'd to the Original. The Greek Words are ; Ag- i. e. " This Play is faid to have been the Thir- ** ty Second, in Order of Time, produced by " Sophocles. The Miftakes, that I have mention'd, (tho' they neceffarily lead into Error, from the Au- thority with which they come into the World j) yet are fuchj 'tis obvious, as have been the Effe&s of Inadvertence 5 and therefore I do not quote them to the Difhonour of their Learned Authors. I fhall point out Two or Three, which feem to have fprung from an- other Source : either a due Want of Sagacity* or an abfolute Negled: of literal Criticifm. d 2 VI. Sir lviii 7he PREFACE. s/rGeorge VI. Sir George JVheler, who, in his Jou&- fh*eaed. N E Y *nto Greece, has traded much with con Greek Antiquities and Infcriptions, and who certainly was no mean Scholar, has (hewn himfelf very carelefs in this Refpeiyy<§* fjitv %itotlQi$> oc^uueToli £* 'Egs£©*.) Nor will they be absolutely foreign, I hope, to a Pre- face in fome Meafure critical ; efpecially, as it could not be amifs to (hew, that I have read other Books with the fame Accuracy, with which I profefs to have read Shake/peart. Be- fides, I defign'd this Inference from the De- fence of Literal Criticifm. If the Latin and Greek Languages have receiv'd the greateft Advantages imaginable from the Labours of the Editors and Criticks of the two laft Ages; by whofe Aid and Affiftancc the Grammari- ans have been enabled to write infinitely better in that Art than even the preceding Grammarians, who wrote when thofe Tongues flourifh'd as living Languages : I fhould ac- count it a peculiar Happinefs, that, by the faint Aflay I have made in this Work, a Path might be chalk'd out, for abler Hands, by which to derive the fame Advantages to our own Tongue: a Tongue, which, tho* it wants none of the fundamental Qualities of an univer- fal Language, yet as a noble Writer fays, lifps andftammersas in itsCradle; and has produced little more towards its polifhing than Com- plaints of its Barbarity. Delay Having now run thro' all thofe Points, jtbisEdt- ^1^ J intended fhould make any Part of this jei\ Differtation, it only remains, that I fhould ac- count to the Pqblick, but more particularly to » my The PREFACE. ]xiii my Subfcribers, why they have waited fo long for this Work ; that I fhould make my Acknowledgments to thofe Friends, who have been generous Afiiftants to me in the con- ducting it : and, laftly, that I (hould acquaint my Readers what Pains I have myfelf taken to make the Work as complete, as faithful Induftry, and my beft Abilities, could ren- der it. In the middle of the Year 1728, I firft put out my Propofah for publifhing only Emenda- tions and Remarks on our Poet: and I had not gone on many Months in this Scheme* before I found it to be the unanimous Wifli of thofe who did me the Honour of their Subfcriptions, that I would give them the Poet's Text correded; and that I would fub- • join thofe Explanatory Remarks, which I had purpos'd to publifh upon the Foot of my firft Propofals. Earneft Sollicitations were made to me, that I would think of fuch an Edition; which I had as ftrong Defires to liften to : and fome noble Perfons then, whom I have no Privilege to name, were pleafed to intereft themfelves fo far in the Affair, as to propofe to Mr. Ton/on his undertaking an Im- prefiion of Shakefpeare with my Corrections. The throwing my whole Work into a diffe- rent Form, to comply with this Propofal, was not the flighted Labour : and fo no little Time was unavoidably loft. While the Publicati- en of my Remarks was thus refpited, my Enemies Ixiv The PREFACE. Enemies took an unfair Occafion to fuggeft, that I was extorting Money from my Subscri- bers, without ever defigning to give them any Thing for it : an Infinuation leveird at once to wound me in Reputation and Intereft. Confcious, however, of my own jufl Intenti- ons, and labouring all the while to bring my wifh'd Purpofe to bear, I thought thefe ano- nymous Slanderers worthy of no Notice. A Juftification of myfelf would have been giv- ing them Argument for fre(h Abufe ; and I was willing to believe that any unkind Opini- ons, entertain'd to my Prejudice, would na- turally drop and lofe their Force, when the Publick fhould once be convinc'd that I was in Earned, and feady to do them Juftice. I left no Means untry'd to put it in my Power to do this: and 1 hope, without Breach of Modefty, I may venture to appeal to all can- did Judges, whether I have not employ'd all my Power to be jufl: to them in the Execu- tion of my Task. I muft needs have been in the moft Pain, who faw myfelf daily fo bar- baroufly outraged. I might have taken ad- vantage of the favourable Impreffions enter- tain^ of my Work, and hurried it crudely into the World: But I have fuffer'd, for my Author's fake, thofe Impreffions to cool, and perhaps, be loft -y and can now appeal only to the Judgment of the Publick. If I fucceed in this Point, the Reputation gain'd will be the more folid and lafting. I The PRE FACE. lxv I come now to fpeak of thofe kind Affif- Achww. tances which I have met with from partial- A^Lt lar Friends, towards forwarding and corn- pleating this Work. Soon after my Defiga was known, I had the Honour of an Invita- tion to Cambridge \ and a generous Promife from the Learned and ingenious Dr. Thirlby of y ^-College, there, who had taken great Pains with my Author, that I ftiould have the Liberty of collating his Copy of Shake- fpeare, mark'd thro' in the Margin with his own Manufcript References and accurate Ob- fervations. He not only made good this Promife, but favoured me with a Set of E- mendations, interfpers'd and diftinguifh'd in his Name thro' the Edition, and which can need no Recommendation here to the judici- ous Reader. The next Afliftance I receiv'd was from my ingenious Friend Hawley Bijhop Efq; whofe great Powers and extenfive Learning are as well known, as his uncommon Modef- ty, to all who have the Happinefs of his Ac- quaintance. This Gentleman was fo gene- rous, at the Expence both of his Pocket and Time, to run thro* all Shake/pear e with mc. We join'd Bufmefs and Entertainment toge- ther; and at every of our Meetings, which were conftantly once a Week, we read over a Playy and came mutually prepar'd to com- municate our Conjectures upon it to each o- then The Pleafure of thefe Appointments, I think, lxvi The PREFACE. think, I may fay, richly compenfated for the Labour in our own Thoughts : and I may venture to affirm, in the Behalf of my Af- fiftant, that our Author has derived no little Improvement from them. To thefe, I muft add the indefatigable Zeal and Induftry of my moll ingenious and ever- refpedted Friend, the Reverend Mr. William Warburton of Newark upon T'rent. This Gentleman, from the Motives of his frank and communicative Difpofition, voluntarily took a confiderable Part of my Trouble qAF my Hands ; not only read over the whole Author for me, with th$ exa&eft Care ; but enter'd into a long and laborious Epiflolary Correfpqndence ; tq which I owe no fmall Part of my beft Criticifms upon my Author. The Number of Paflages amended, and admirably Explained, which I have taken care to diftinguifh with hi$ Name, will fhew a Finenefs of Spirit and Extent of Reading, beyond all {he Commendations I can give them : Nor, indeed, woul4 I any farther be thought to commend a friend, than, in fo doing, to give a Teftimony of my own Gra- titude. How great a fhare foever of Praife I muft lofe from rqyfelf, in confeffing thefe Affiftances ; and however my own poor Con-r jeflures may be weaken'd by the Comparifon with theirs ; I am very well content to fa- crifice my Vanity to the Pride of being fo affifted, and the Pleafure of being juft tq their the PREFACE. Ixvii their Merits. I beg leave to obfcrve to my Rea- ders,in one Word, here, that From the Confef- tion of thefe fucceflive Aids, and the Manner in which I derived them, it appears, I have pretty Well fill'd up the Interval, betwixt my firft Propofals and my Publication, with having my Author always in View, and at Heart. Some Hints I have the Honour to owe t© the Informations of Dr. Mead, and the late Dr. Friendi Others to the Kindnefs of the ingenious Martin Folkes, Efq; who likewife furnifliM me with the firft folio Edition of Shakefpeare, at a Time when I could not meet with it among the Bookfellers ; as my obliging Friend Thomas Coxeter, Efq; did with feverai of the old 4t0 fingle Plays, which I then had not in my own Colle&ion. Some few Obfer- vations I likewife owe to F. Plumptree9 Efq; Others to the Favour of anonymous Per- fons : for all which I moft gladly render my Acknowledgments. As to what regards my felf fingly, if the q%e Ed{m Edition do not fpeak for the Pains I have tor's parti- taken about it, it will be very vain to plead c"/a.r my own Labour and Diligence. Befides a taken. faithful Collation of all the printed Copies, which I have exhibited in my Catalogue of Editions at the End of this Work; let it | fuffice to fay, that, to clear up feverai Errors ! in the Hiftorical Plays, I purpofely read over | Hall and Holing/head's Chronicles in the li Reigns concern'd -, all the Novels in Italian^ from lxviii The PREFACE. from which our Author had borrow'd any of his Plots; fuch Parts of Plutarch, from which he had deriv'd any Parts of his Greek or Ro- man Story: Chaucer and Spenfers Works; all the Plays of B. Jonfon, Beaumont and Fletcher •> and above 800 old Englijh Plays, to afcertain the obfolete and uncommon Phrafes in him : Not to mention fome Labour and Pains un- pleafantly fpent in the dry Task of confulting Etymological Glojfaries. But as no Labour of Mine can be equiva- lent to the dear and ardent Love I bear for Sbakefpeare, fo, if the Publick lhall be pleas'd to allow that He owes any Thing to my Wil- lingnefs and Endeavours of reftoring Him ; I lhall reckon the Part of my Life fo engag'd, to have been very happily employ 'd : and put Myfelf, with great Submiffion^ to be try'd by my Country in the Affair. t An EPITAPH on the admirable Dramatick Poet, W. Shakespeare. X'XT HAT neede my Shakefpeare for his honoured * * Bones Tide Labour of an Age, in piled Stones ? Or that his hallow' d Reliques fhould be hid Under a ftarr-y-pointing Pyramid ? Deare Sonne of Memory, great Heire of Fame, What needft thou fuch dull JVitneffe of thy Name ? Thou in our Wonder and Afionifhment ' Haft built thy felfe a live- long Monument : For whir ft to thi1 Shame of flow- endev our ing Art Thy eafie Numbers flow, and that each Heart Hath from the Leaves of thy unvalued Booke, Thofe Delphicke Lines, fuch deep Impreffioh tooke : Then thou, our Fancy of her felfe bereaving, Doft make us Marble with too much conceiving : And, fo fepulcher'd, in fuch Pompe doft lie, That Kings for fuch a Tombe would wifh to die. J. Milton. + Tin's Epitaph was written in 1630, when Milton was in his Two and Twentieth Year; for he was born in 1608. In Remembrance of Matter William Shakespeare. ODE. T> Eware (delighted Poets f) when you fing *~* To welcome Nature in the early Spring, Tour numerous Feet not tread The The Banks of Avon $ for each Flower (As it ne'er knew a Sun, or Shower J Hangs, there, the penfeve Head. II. Each Tree, whofe thick and fpreading Growth hath made Rather a Night beneath the Boughs, than Shade, (Unwilling now to grow,) Looks like the Plume a Captain weares, Whofe rifled Falls are fteept fth' Teares Which from his lafi Rage flow. HI. The piteous River wept it felf away, Long fence {alas!) to fuch a fwift decay, That reach the Map, and look If you a River there can /pie: And, for a River, your mock'd Eye Will find a Jhallow Brooke. W. Davenant. ; On the Effigies of Shakespeare, I prefix'd to his printed Works. THIS Figure, that thou here feeft put, It was f$r gentle Shakcfpcare cut\ Wherein the Graver had a Strife With Nature, to out-doo the Life : O, could he but have drawne his Wit As well in Braffe, as he hath hit His Face-, the Print would then furpafje All, that was ever writ in Braffe. But, fence he cannot, Reader, looke Not on his Piclure, but his Booke. B. J. To the Memory of my Beloved, the Author^ Mr. William Shakespeare; And What he hath left us. TO draw no Envy (Shakefpeare) on thy Name5 Am I thus ample to thy Book, and Fame : While I confefs thy Writings to be fuch, As neither Man, nor Mufe, can praife too much. 'Tis true, and all mens fuffrage. But thefe wayes Were not the paths I meant unto thy Praife : For feelieft Ignorance on thefe may light, Which, when it founds at beft, but echoes right ; Or blind Affection, which doth ne^er advance The Truth, but gropes, and urgeth all by chance -9 Or crafty Malice might pretend this Praife, And think to ruine, where it feentd to raife. Thefe are, as fome infamous Baud, or Whore, Should praife a Matron. What could hurt her more ? But thou art proof againft them, and, indeed, Above th* ill Fortune of them, or the Need. / therefore will begin.* — ■ Soul of the Age! Th* applaufe ! delight ! the wonder of our Stage ! My Shakefpeare, rife ! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenfer, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room : Thou art a Monument without a Tomb. And art alive fill, while thy Book doth live, And we have Wits to read, and Praife to give. That I not mix thee fo, my brain excufes -y I mean with great, but dif proportion" *d Mufes : e For For if I thought my Judgment 'were of Tears, I Jhould commit thee, furely, with thy Peers : And tell how far thou didft our Lilly out-flrine, Or fporting Kid, or MarlowV mighty Line. * And though thou had ft [mall Latin and lefs Greek9 From thence to honour thee, I would not feek For Names ; but call forth thundering y£fc hylus, Euripides, and Sophocles to us, Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead* To live again, to hear thy Buskin tread^ And Jhake a Stage : Or, when thy Socks were on, Leave thee alone for the Comparifon Of all, that infolent Greece, or haughty Rome Sent forth, or fince did from their Afioes come. 'Triumph, my Britain ! thou hafl one to Jhow, To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe. He wis not of an Age, hut for all time ! And all the Mufes fill were in their prime, When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our Ears, or like a Mercury to charm. Nature her felf was proud of his defignes, And jofd to wear the drefpng of his Lines : Which were fo richly fpun, and wove fo fit, As, fince, Jhe will vouchfafe no other Wit. The merry Greek, tart Ariftophanes, Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not pleafe ; But antiquated^ and deferted lie, As they were not of Nature's family. Tet muft I not give Nature all : Thy Art, My gentle Shakefpearc, muft enjoy a part. For though the Poet'j matter Nature be, His Art doth give the Fafhion : And, that he, Wh$ Who cafts to write a living Line, mufi Jweat, (Such as thine are) and fir ike the fecond 'Heat Upon the Mufes Anvile ; turn the fame, ( And himfelf with it) that he thinks to frame ^ Or for the Laurel he may gain a Scorn ; For a good PoetV made, as well as born. And fuch wert thou. Look how the Father's Face Lives in his /flue, even fo the Race Of ShakefpeareY Mind and Manners brightly Jhines In his well-torned, and true -filed Lines : In each of which he feems to fhake a Lance^ As brandijh'd at the Eyes of Ignorance. Sweet Swan of Avon ! what a fight it were To fee thee in our water yet appear , And make thofe flights upon the Banks of Thames, That fo did take Eliza and our James ! But ftay^ I fee thee in the Hem ifp here Advanced, and made a Conftellation there! Shine forth , thou S carre of Poets! and with Rage^ Or Influence \ chide \9 or chear^ the drooping Stage: Which) fince thy flight from hence^ hath mourrfd like nighty And defpairs day^ hut for thy Volume'* light. Ben. Jon son. e z The $mm%M^a££ ?ss ma^£tBf3Ms» The Names of the Subscribers. HisROYAL HIGHNESS, //^PRINCE of WALES. Her ROYAL HIGHNESS, &PRIN- CESS ROYAL. A. His Grace the Duke of Argyle and Greenwich, Royal Paper. Right Honourable the Marchionefs of Annandale. 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Anthonio, his Brother, the ufurping Duke of Milan, Ferdinand, Son to the King of Naples. Gonzalo, an honeft old Counsellor of Naples. Adrian, 7 t-, t r Lords. Franciico, 3 Caliban, a Salvage, and deformed Slave. Trinculo, a Jefier. Stephano, a drunken Butler. Mafter of a Ship, Boat/wain, and Mariners* Miranda, Daughter to Profpero. Ariel, an aiery Spirit. Iris, Ceres, Juno, \Spirits, employ' d in the Mafquc. Nymphs, Reapers, Other Spirits, attending on Profpero. SCENE, an uninhabited JJland. THE &M^y T E THE PEST. ACT L SCENE, On a Ship at Sea. A tempejluous noife of thunder and lightning heard z Enter a Ship-majfe'r9 and a Boat/wain. Master. Oatfwain, - Boatf. Here, Mailer : what cheer ? Maft. Good, fpeak to th' mariners: fall to't yarely,. or we run our felves a-ground^ beflir, beflir. fcExift Enter Mariners. Boatf. Hey, my hearts 5 cheerly, my hearts ; yare^" yarej take in the top-fail 5 tend to th' mailer's whittle * blow, 'till thou burft thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonfo, Sebaflian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo," and others. Alon. Good Boatfwain, have care : where's the ma- iler ? play the men. 6 6 4 ^TEMPEST. Boatf. I pray now, keep below. Ant. Where is the mafter, boatfwain? Boatf. Do you not hear him ? you mar our labour 5 keep your cabins \ you do affift the florin. Gonz. Nay, good, be patient. Boatf. When the fea is. Hence — what care thefe Roarers for the name of King ? to cabin > filence 5 trouble us not. Gonz. Good, yet remember whom thou haft aboard. Boatf. None, that I more love than my felf. You are a counfelior j if you can command thefe elements to filence, and work the peace o'the (1) prefent, we will not hand a rope more 3 ufe your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd fo long, and make your felf ready in your cabin for the mifchance of the hour, if it fo hap. Cheerly, good hearts: out of our way, I fay. {Exit. Gonz. I have great comfort from this fellow > me- thinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him 5 his com- plexion is perfecT: gallows. Stand faft, good fate, to his hanging j make the rope of his deftiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage : if he be not born to be hang'd, our cafe is miferable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatfwain. Boatf Down with the top-maft : yare, lower, lower j bring her to try with main-courfe. A plague upon this howling ! ~ Aery zvithin. Re-enter Sebaftian, Anthonio, and Gonzalo. they are louder than the weather, or our office. Yet again? what do you here? fhall we g^ve o'er, and drown? have you a mind to fink? | Sebaf. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blafphe- mous, uncharitable dog. , ; Boatf. Work you then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang 5 you whorefon, infolent, noife- maker> we are lefs afraid tobedrown'd, than thou art. (1) i. e. on die prefent, at this Inflant. Gonz, ^TEMPEST. 5 Gonz. I'll warrant him from drowning, tho' the ftiip were no ftronger than a nut-fhell, and as leaky as an unftanch'd wench. Boat/. Lay her a-hold, a-hold 5 fet her two courfes off to fea again, lay her off. Enter Mariners wet. Mar. All loft! to prayers, to prayers! all loft ! [Exe. Boatf What, muft our Mouths be cold ? Gonz. The King and Prince at pray'rs ! let us aflift 'em. For our cafe is as theirs. Seb. Pm out of patience. Ant. We're meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopt rafcal would, thou might'ft lye drowning, The waftiing often tides! Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet, Though every drop of water fwear againft it, And gape at wid'ft to glut him. A confufed noife within. ~\ Mercy on us ! Wefplit, wefplit! Farewel, my Wife and Children ! Brother, farewel ! we fplit, we fplit, we fplit ! Ant. Let's all fink with the King. [Exit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. Gonz. Now would I give a thoufand furlongs or. fea for an acre of barren ground -, long heath, brown furze, any thing -> the wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death ! [Exit. SCENE changes to a Part of the Enchanted Ijland, near the Cell of Profpero. Enter Profpero and Miranda. Mira. T F by your art (my deareft father) you have JL Put the wild Waters in this roar, allay thenK The sky, it feems, would pour down ftinking pitch, But that the fea, mounting to th5 welkin's cheek, Dafhes the fire out. O ! I have fuffer'd B 3 With 6 The T E M P E S T, With thofe that I faw fufFer : a brave veflel (Who had, no doubt, fome noble creatures in her) Daih'd all to pieces. O! the cry did knock Againft my very heart : poor fouls, they perifh'd ! Had I been any God of Pow'r, I would Have funk the fea within the earth > or ere It Utould the good fhip fo have fwallow'd, and The fraighting fouls within her. Pro. Be collected $ No more amazement -y tell your piteous hearts There's no harm done. ■ \ Mir a. O wo the day ! Pro. No harm, I have done nothing but in care of thee, (Of thee my dear one, thee my daughter) who Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing Of whence I am $ nor that I am more better (1); Than Profpero, mailer of a full-poor cell, (3) And thy no greater father. Mir a. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time, I mould inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magick garment from me : fo ! [_Lays down his mantle. Lye there my Art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort; The direful fpe&acle of the wrack, which touch'd The very virtue of compaflion in thee, I have with' fuch provifion in mine art [4] So (2) I am more better, ,] This is the genuine Reading, which the lafl Editor has fo'pnifticated ; not obferving, I fuppofe, iiow frequent it is with Shakefpeare, and the other Waiters of that Age, to add the Termination to Adjectives of the comparative and fuperlati-ve Degrees, and at the fame time prefix the Signs mowing the Degrees. (3) full poor Cell,'] Thefe two Adjectives without a Hyphen, and taking the firft adverbially, make ftark Nonfenfe ; hut full-poor is what the La- tines ufed to exprefs by perpauper, ferexiguus. ' The French like wife have a iimilar Form of Expreihon ; fort-pau-vre, fort-debile, fort-ma- lade, &c. (4.) Provifion in mine Art!] This is the Reading of the \&foL Editi- on, which I have therefore reltored. The word Compajjion took place after* The TEMPEST. 7 So fafely order'd, that there is no foyle, (f ) No not fo much perdition as an hair, Betid to any creature in the veffel Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink: fit down. For thou muft now know farther. Mira. You have often Begun to tell me what I am, but ftopt, And left me to a bootlefs inquifition$ Concluding, Stay; not yet. — Pro. The hour's now come, The very minute bids thee ope thine ear * Obey, and be attentive. Canft thou remember A time, before we came unto this cell? I do not think, thou canft } for then thou waft not Out three years old. (6) Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other houfe, or perfon? Of any thing the image tell me, that jHath kept in thy remembrance. Mira. 'Tis far oft} And rather like a dream, than an aflurance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four, or five, women once, that tended me ? afterwards, I prefume, from the miflake of the Printers, who threw their Eyes twice inadvertently on the preceding Line, where this Word is, and fo happen' d to fubftitute it. (0 is no Foyle,] /. e. no Damage, Lofs, Detriment. The two old Folio's read, is no Soul: which will not agree in Grammar with the following Part of the Sentence. Mr. Ro whom t'advance, and whom To The TEMPEST. 9 To trafh for over- topping $ new created The creatures, that were mine> I fay, or chang'd 'em, Or elfe new form'd 'em j having both the key Of officer and office, fet all hearts i'th' ftate To what tune pleas'd his ear $ that now he was The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk, And fuckt my verdure out on't. — Thou at tend' ft not. Mira. Good Sir, I do. Pro. I pray thee, mark me then. I thus negle&ing worldly ends, all dedicated To clofenefs, and the bettering of my mind, With that which, but by being fo retired, O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my falfe brother Awak'd an evil nature 5 and my truft, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falfliood in its contrary, as great As my trufi was j which had, indeed, no limit, A confidence fans bound. He being thus lorded> Not only with what my revenue yielded, But what my power might elfe exa<5b$ like one, Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made fuch a finner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was, indeed, the Duke j from fubftitution, And executing th' outward face of royalty, With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing — Doft thou hear? Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafnefs. Pro. To have no fcreen between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needs will be Abfolute Milan. Me, poor man! — my library Was Dukedom large enough j of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable : confederates (So dry he was for fway) wi1 th' King of Naples To give him annual tribute, do him homage 5 Subjeft his coronet to his crown 5 and bend The Dukedom, yetunbow'd, (alas, poor Milan!) To moft ignoble ftooping, Mira. Otheheav'ns! Pro. io The T E M P E S T. Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event 5 then tell me, If this might be a Brother ? Mira. I fhould fin, (7) To think but nobly of my grand-mother $ Good wombs have bore bad fons. (8) Pro. Now the condition : This King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, hearks my brother's fuitj Which was, that he in lieu o'th' premifes, Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, Should prefently extirpate me and mine Out of the Dukedom $ and confer fair Milan, With all the honours, on my brother. Whcreoq A treacherous army levy'd, one mid-night Fated to th' purpofe, did Anthonio open The gates of Milan 5 and, i'th* dead of darknefs^ The minifters for th' purpofe hurry'd thence Me, and thy crying felf. Mira, Alack, for pity ! (7) "- IJhouldfin, To think not nobly of my Grandmother ;] This is Mr. Pope's reading 5 from no Authority, I prefume : All the Copies that I have feen, have it ; To think but nobly i. e. otherwife than nobly; according to our Author's Ufage. So, in Much Ado about Nothing ; I knoiu not; if they /peak but Truth of her % Thefe hands jbali tear her. And To in Timon; I to bear this, That never knevo but better, is feme Burthen. &c. &c. (3) Good Wombs have bore bad Sons. Pro. AW, the Condition:'] Thus have all the Editions divided thefe Speeches ; But, tho' I have not attempted to regulate them otherwife^ I have great Sufpicion, that our Author plac'd them thus ; Pro. Good Wombs have bore bad Sons. — Nonv, the Condition : How could Miranda, that came into this Defart If and an Infant, that had never feen any other Creatures of the World, but her Father and Caliban, with any Propriety be furnifh'd to make fuch an Obfervation from Life, that the Iflue has often degenerated from the Parent ? But it comes very properly from Profpero, as a fhort Document, by the By, to his Daughter; implying, " that fhe did very well to think with Ho- " nour of her Anceflor; for that it was common in Life, for good Peo- " pie to have bad Children." Mira* ^•TEMPEST, n I, not remembring how I cry'd out then, Will cry it o'er again* it is a hint, That wrings mine eyes to't. Pro. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the prefent bufinefs, Which now's upon's, without the which this ftofy Were moft impertinent. Mira. Why did they not That hour deftroy us ? Pro. Well demanded, wench j My tale provokes that queftion. Dear, they durft not (So dear the love my people bore me 5) fet A mark fo bloody on the bufinefs > but With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark j Bore us fome leagues to fea j where they prepared A rotten carcafs of a boat, not rigg'd, JSTor tackle, fail, nor maft ; the very rats Inftinctively had quit it : there they hoift us To cry to th' fea, that roar'd to us -y to figh To th' winds, whofe pity, fighing back again, Did us but loving wrong. Mira. Alack ! what trouble Was I then to you? Pro. O ! a cherubim Thou waft, that did preferve me ; Thou didft fmile, Infufed with a fortitude from heav'n, (When I have deck'd the fea with drops full-falt j Under my burthen groan'd j) which rais'd in me An undergoing ftomach, to bear up Againft what fhould enfue. Mira. How came we a-fhore? Pro, By providence divine. Some food we had, and fome frefh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity (being then appointed Mailer of this defign) did give us, with Rich garments, linnens, fluffs, and neceffaries, Which fince have deeded much. So of his gentlenefs^ |Cnowing I lov'd my books, he furnifli'd me From j i The T E M P E S T. | From my own library, with volumes that I prize above my Dukedom. Mira. Would I might But ever fee that man ! Pro. Now, I arife : - ■ ■ Sit ftill, and hear the laft of our fea-forrow. Here in this iiland we arriv'd, and here Have I, thy fchool-mafter, made thee more profit Than other Princes can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful. Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't ! And now, I pray you, Sir, (For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reafon For raifing this fea-ftorm ? Pro. Know thus far forth $ By accident moil ftrange, bountiful fortune (Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies Brought to this fhore : and, by my prefcience I find, my Zenith doth depend upon A moil aufpicious ftarj whofe Influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. — Here ceafe more queftions $ Thou art inclined to fleep. *Tis a good dulnefs, And give it wayj I know, thou canft not chufe. — [Miranda fleep. Come away, fervant, come 5 I'm ready now : Approach, my Ariel. Come. Enter Ariel. Ari. All hail, great mafter ! grave Sir, hail ! I come To anfwer thy beft pleafure : Be't to fly $ To fwimj to dive into the fire j to ride On the curl'd clouds : to thy ftrong bidding task Ariel) and all his qualities. Pro. Haft thou, fpirit, Performed to point the tempeft that I bad thee? Ari. To every Article. I boarded the King's {hip: now on the beak, Now in the wafte, the deck, in every cabin, I flam'd amazement. Sometimes, I'd divide, And burn in many places 5 on the top-maft, The The TEMPEST. ij The yards, and bolt-fprit, would I flame diftin&ly ; Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precurfers Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And fight out-running were not -y the fire and cracks Of fulphurous roaring the moft mighty Neptune Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble 5 Yea, his dread trident fliake. Pro. 1 4y brave, brave fpirit ! Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coyl Would not infe£fc his reafon ? Ari. Not a foul But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid Some tricks of defperatiQn : all, but mariners, Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the veflel, Then all a-fire with me : the King's fon Ferdinand With hair up- flaring (then like reeds, not hair) Was the firft man, that leap'dj cry'd, " hell is empty 5 " And all the devils are here. Pro. Why, that's my Spirit! But was not this nigh fhore ? Ari. Clofe by, my matter. Pro. But are they, Ariel^ fafe? Ari. Not a hair periih'd : On their fuftaining garments not a blemifh, But freiher than before. And as thou badft me, In troops I have difpers'd them 'bout the ifle ; The King's fon have I landed by himfelf, Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs, In an odd angle of the ifle, and fitting, His arms in this fad knot. Pro. Of the King's {hip, The mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd, And all the reft o'th' fleet ? Ari. Safely in harbour Is the King's fhip 5 in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dft me up at midnight, to fetch dew From the ftill-vext Bermudas^ there fhe's hid : (9) The (9) From the fiill- but there's more work : What is the time o'th' day ? Ari. Paft the mid feafon. Pro. Atleafttwoglaffesj the time 'twixt fix and now Muft by us both be fpent moft precioufly. Jri. Is there more toil? fince thou doft give m® pains, Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd,' Which is not yet perform'd me. Pro. How now? moody? What is't thou canft demand? Ari. My liberty. Pro. Before the time be out ? no more. Ari. Ipr'ythee, Remember, I have done thee worthy fervice 5 Told thee no lies, made no miftakings, ferv'd Without or grudge, or grumblings 5 thou didft promifc To bate me a full year. of that Name who firfl: difcover'd them. They are likewife callM Bummer Iflands, from Sir George Bummers, who in 1609 made that Voyage; and viewing them, probably, firft brought the Englijb acquainted with them, and invited them afterwards to fettle a Plantation there.— — But why, flilk thou my flavc, As thou report'ft thy felf, waft then her fervant. And, for thou waft a fpirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, Refufing her grand hefts, fhe did confine thee^ By help of her more potent minifters, And in her moft unmitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift Imprifon'd, thou didft painfully remain A dozen years, within which fpace fhe dy5d, And left thee there : where thou didft vent thy groans, As faft as mill-wheels ftrike. Then was this Ifland (Save for the fon that fhe did litter here, A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honoured with A human fhape. Arh i6 ^TEMPEST. Ari. Yes* Caliban her fon. Pro. Dull thing, I fay fo : he, that Caliban^ Whom now 1 keep in fervice. Thou beft know'ft, What torment I did find thee in 5 thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breafts Of ever-angry bears j it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo : it was mine art, Whenlarriv'd and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out, Ari. I thank thee, mailer. Pro. If thou more murmur' ft, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, 'till Thou'ft howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. Pardon, mafter. I will be correfpondent to command, And do my fp'ricing gently. Pro. Do fo : and after two days I will difcharge thee. Art. That's my noble mafter : What fhall I do ? fay what ? what fhall I do ? Pro. Go make thy felf like to a nymph o'th* fea. Be fubjeft to no fight but mine : invifible To every eye-ball elfe. Go take this fliape, And hither come in it : go hence with diligence, {Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake ! thou haft flept well j Awake. Mira. The ftrangenefs of your ftory put Heavinefs in me.. Pro. Shake it off: come on v We'll vifit Caliban my flave, who never Yields us kind anfwer. Mira. 'Tis a villain, Sir, I do not love to look on- ■»— Pro. But, as 'tis, We cannot mifs him : he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood, and ferves in offices That profit us. What hoa! flave! Caliban/ Thou earth, thou! fpeak. CaU ^TEMPEST. 17 Cal. {within) There's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I fay j there's other bufincfs for thee. Come, thouTortoife! when? ■ Enter Ariel like a Water-Nymph. Fine apparition ! my quaint Ariel^ Hark in thine ear. Aru My lord, it fhall be done. {Exit. Pro. Thou poifonous flave, got by the devil himfelf Upon thy wicked dam 5 come forth. Enter Caliban. Cal. As wicked dew, as e'er my mother bruftYd With raven's feather from unwholfome fen, Drop on you both ! a fouth-weft blow on ye, And blifter you all o'er ! Pro. For this, be fure, tonight thou jfhalt have cramps, Side-ftitches that fhall pen thy breath up 5 urchins Shall, for that vaft of night that they may work, All exercife on thee: thou fhall be pinch'd. As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more flinging Than bees that made 'em. Cal. I muft eat my dinner. This Ifland's mine by Sy cor ax my mother, Which thou tak'ft from me. When thou earned firft, Thou ftroak'dft me, and mad'ft much of me 5 would'ft give me Water with berries in'tj and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the lefs, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And fhew'd thee all the qualities o' th' Ifle, The frefh fprings, brine-pits 5 barren place, and fertile. Curs'd be I, that I did fo ! all the charms Of Sycorax^ toads, beetles, bats, light on you ! For I am all the fubje&s that you have, Who firft was mine own King : and here you fty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The reft of th' lfland. Pro. Thou moft lying flave, Whom ftripes may move, not kindnefs 5 I have us'd thee Vol. I. C (Filth 1 8 ^TEMPEST. (Filth as thou art) with humane care, and Iodg'd In mine own cell, 'till thou didfl; feek to violate The honour of my child. Cal. Oh ho, oh ho! . 1 wou'd, it had been done! Thou didfl prevent me, I had peopled elfe This I lie with Calibans. Pro. Abhorred Have j (io) Which any print of goodnefs wilt not take, Being capable of all ill ! I pity'd thee, Took pains to make thee (peak, taught thee each hour One thing or other. When thou didfl: not, favage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldfl: gabble like A thing moil brutim, I endow'd thy purpofes With words that made them known. But thy vile race (Tho' thou didfl: learn) had that in't, which good natures Could not abide to be with 5 therefore wait thou Defervedly confin'd into this rock, Who hadft deferv'd more than a prifon. Cal. You taught me language, and my profit on't Is, I know how to curfe : the red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro. Hag-feed, hence ! Fetch us in fewel, and be quick (thou wer't bed) To anfwer other bufinefs. Shrug'fl: thou, malice? If thou neglecVft, or doft unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps 3 Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar, That beads fhall tremble at thy din. Cal. No, 'pray thee. I muft obey j his art is of fuch pow'r, (10) Mira. Abhorred Slave {] In all the printed Editions this Speech is given to Miranda : but I am perfuaded, the Author never defign'd it for her. In the firft Place, 'tis probable, Profpero taught Caliban to fpeak, rather than left that Office to his Daughter : in the next Place, as Profper§ was here rating Caliban, it would be a great Impropriety for her to take the Difcipline out of his hands ; and, indeed, in fome fort, an Indecency in her to reply to what Caliban laft was fpeaking of. Mr. Dryden, I ob- serve, in his Alteration of this Play, has judiciouily placed this Speech to Profpero. 1 can eafily guefs, that the Change was rirft deriv'd from the Players, who not loving that any Character mould Hand too long filent on the Stage, to obviate that Inconvenience with Regard to Miranda, clap'd this Speech to her Fart. It ^TEMPEST. i9 It Would controul my dam's god Setebos, And make a vaflal of him. Pro. So, flave, hence ! Exit Caliban* Enter Ferdinand j and Ariel invifibk, playing andfmging* A R I E Vs SONG. Come unto thefe yellow fands^ And then take hands : Curified when you have, and kift The wild waves whift j Foot it featly here and there, And, fweet Jprites, the burthen bear. Burthen, difperfedly* Hark, hark, bough-wawgh : the watch*dogs bark, Bough-wawgh. Ari. Hark, hark, I hear The ftrain of ft rut ting chantidere Cry, Cock-a-doodle-do. Fer. Where fliould this mufick be, in air, or earth ?— «i It founds no more : and, fure, it waits upon Some God o' th' Ifland. Sitting on a bank, Weeping againft the King my father's wreck, This mufick crept by me upon the waters -, Allaying both their fury and my paffion, With its fweet air; thence I have folio w'd it, Or it hath drawn mc rather but 'tis gone. No, it begins again. A R I E L's SONO. Full fathom five thy father lies^ Of his bones are coral made : Thofe are pearls, that were his eyes% Nothing of himr that doth fade, But doth fu fer a \ fea- change, Into fomething rich and ftrange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. Hark, now I hear them, ding-dong, belh [Burthen: ding-dong, C z Eer. io The TEMPE S T. Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father $ This is no mortal bufinefs, nor no found That the earth owns : I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eyes advance, And fay, what thou feed yond. Mira. What is't, a fpirit? Lord, how it looks about! believe me, Sir, It carries a brave form. But 'tis a fpirit. Pro. No, wench, it eats, and fleeps, and hath fuch fenfes As we have, fuch. This gallant, which thou feeft, Was in the wreck : and, but he's fomething ftain'd With grief, (that's beauty's canker) thou might'ft call him A goodly perfon. He hath loft his fellows, And ftrays about to find 'em. ; . Mir a, I might call him A thing divine 5 for nothing natural I ever faw fo noble. Pro. It goes on, I fee, [_Jfide. As my foul prompts it. Spirit, fine fpirit, I'll free thee Within two days for this. Fer. Moft fure, the Goddefs On whom thefe ayres attend ! vouchfafe, my pray'r May know, if you remain upon this Ifland$ And that you will fpme good inftru&ion give, How I may bear me here : my prime requeft (Which I do.laft pronounce) is, O you wonder! If you be made or no ? Mir a. No wonder. Sir, But certainly a maid. Fer. My language! heav'ns ! <■ I am the beft of them that fpeak this fpeech, Were I but where 'tis fpoken. Pro. How ? the beft ? What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee? Fer. A fingle thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee fpeak of Naples. He does hear me* And, that he does, I weep : my felf am Naples^ "Who, with mine eyes (ne'er fince at ebb) beheld The King my father wrackt. Mira. The T E M P E S T. n Mir a. Alack, for mercy ! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords : the Duke of Milany And his brave fon, being twain, (n), Pro. The Duke of Milan^ And his more braver daughter, could controul thee, If now 'twere fit to do't : « At the firft fight, They have chang'd eyes : (delicate Ariel^ I'll fet thee free for this.) A word, good Sir, I fear, you've done your felf fome wrong: a word.- Mir a. Why fpeaks my father fo ungently ? this Is the third man, that I e'er faw> the firft, That e'er I figh'd for. Pity move my father To be inclin'd my way! Fer. O, if a Virgin, And your Affection not gone forth, I'll make you The Queen of Naples. Pro. Soft, Sir $ one word more. They're both in either's power : but this fwift bufinefs I muft uneafie make, left too light winning Make the prize light. Sir, one word more j 1 charge thee, That thou attend me : - — i- thou doft here ufurp The name thou ow'ft not, and haft put thy felf Upon this Ifland, as a fpy, to win it From me, the lord on't. Fer. No, as I'm a man. Mir a. There's nothing ill can dwell in fuch a temple. If the ill fpirit have fo fair an houfe, Good things will ftrive to dwell with't. Pro. Follow me. Speak not you for him : heVa traitor. Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together j Sea-water fhalt thou drink j thy food fhall be The frem-brook muflels, witheip'd roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. (11) ■ '— the Duke of Milan, And his brave Son, being twain.] Here feems a flight Forget- fulnefs in our Poet : No Body was loft in this Wreck, as is manifeft from feveral Paflfages : and yet we have no fuch Character introduced in the. Fable, as the Duke of Milan's Son. C 5 Ferl xi rbe T E M P E S T. ' Fer. No, I will refift fuch entertainment, 'till Mine enemy has more power. \_He draws, and is charmed fr$m moving. Mir a, O dear father, Make not too rafh a tryal of him 5 for Jrle's gentle, and not fearful. Pro. What, I fay, My foot my tutor ? put thy fword up, traitor, Who mak'ft a fhew, but dar'ft not ftrikej thy con* fcience Is fo poffeft with guilt : eome from thy ward, For I can here difarm thee with this ftick, And make thy weapon drop. Mira. Befeechyou, father. Pro. Hence : hang not on my garment, Mira* Sir, have pity j I'll be his furety. Pro. Silence : one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What, An advocate for an impoftor ? hum ! Thou think' ft there are no more fuch fhapes as he. Having feen but him and Caliban j fooliih wench ! To th' moft of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels. Mira. My affections Are then moft humble : I have no ambition To fee a goodlier man. Dro. Come on, obey : Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them." Fer. So they are ; Myfpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's lofs, the weaknefs which I feel, The wrack of all my friends, and this man's threats, To whom I am fubdu'd, are but light to me> Might I but through my prifon once a day Behold this maid : all corners elfe o'th' earth Let liberty make ufe of 5 fpace enough Have I, in fuch a prifon. Pn. the TEMPEST. 25 Pro. It works : come on. (Thou haft done well, fine Ariel:) follow me. Hark, what thou elfe flialt do me. [To Ariel. Mir a. Be of comfort, My father's of a better nature, Sir, Than he appears by fpeech : this is unwonted, Which now came from him. Pro. Thou {halt be as free As mountain winds $ but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To th' fyllable. Pro. Come, follow: fpeak not for him. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE, Another Part of the ljland. Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francifco, and others. GONZALO. BESEECH you, Sir, be merry : you have caufe (So have we all) of joy! for our efcape Is much beyond our lofs 3 our hint of woe Is common 5 everyday, fome failor's wife, The mafters of fome merchant, and the merchant, Have juft our theam of woe : but for the miracle, (I mean our prefervation) few in millions Can fpeak like us : then wifely, good Sir, weigh Our forrow with our comfort. Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. (12,) . Seb. (1 2) Alon. Pr'ythee peace. 1 All that follows from hence to this Speech of the King's. C 4 You 14 7k' TEMPEST. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The vifitor will not give o'er fo. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will ftrike. Gon. Sir, Seb. One: Tell, - Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd -, comes to the entertainer — Seb. A dollor. Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed j you have fpoken truer than you propos'd. Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you fhould. Gon. Therefore, my lord, — Ant. Fie, what a fpend-thrift is he of his tongue ? Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare. Gon. Well, I have done : but yet « Seb. He will be talking. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian^ for a good wager, firft begins to crow ? Seb. The old cock. You cram thefe Words into my Ears againft The Stomach of my Senfe. feems to Mr. Pope to have been an Interpolation by the Players. For my part, tho' I allow the Matter of the Dialogue to be very poor and tri- . vial, (of which, I am forry to fay, we don't want other Inftances in our Poet,-) I cannot be of this Gentleman's Opinion, that it is interpolated. For ihould we take out this intermediate Part, what would become of thefe Words of the King ? ■ Would I had never Married my Daughter there! What Daughter ? and, where married ? For it is from this intermediate part of the Scene only, that we are told, the King had a Daughter nam'd C/aribel, whom he had married into Tunis. 'Tis true, in a fubfequent Scene, betwixt Antonio and Sebajiian, we again hear her and Tunis men- tion'd : but in fuch a manner, that it would be quite obfcure and unintel- ligible without this previous Information. Mr. Pope's Criticifm therefore is injudicious and unweigh'd. Befides, poor and jejune as the Matter of the Dialogue is, it was certainly defign'd to be of a ridiculous Stamp; to divert and unfettle the King's Thoughts from reflecting too deeply on his Son's fuppos'd Drowning. Ant. ^TEMPEST. ij Ant. The cockrel. Seb. Done : the wager ? Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match. Adr. Though this ifland feem to be defart — ■ — Seb. Ha, ha, ha. So, you're paid. Adr. Uninhabitable, and almoft inacceffible — Seb. Yet,- Adr. Yet Ant. He could not mifs't. Adr. It muft needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he moft learnedly deli vcr'd. Adr. The air breathes upon us here moft fweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Ant. True, fave means to live. Seb. Of that there's none or little. Gon. How lufh and lufty the grafs looks ? how green? Ant. The ground indeed is tawny. Seb. With an eye of green in't. Ant. He mhTes not much. Seb. No : he does but miftake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almoft beyond credit Seb. As many voucht rarities are. Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fea, hold notwithftanding their fremnefs and gloffesj being rather new dy'd, than ftain'd with fait water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could fpeak, would it not fay, he lies ? Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as freih as when we put them on firft in Africk^ at the marriage of the King's fair Daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. Seb. i he trode the water 5 Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breafted The furge moft fwoln that met him : his bold head *Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himfelf with his good arms in lufty ftrokes To th' fhorej that o'er his wave- worn bafis bow'd, As {looping to relieve him : I not doubt, He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank your felf for this great lofs, That would not blefs our Europe with your Daughter, But rather lofe her to an African \ Where (he, at leaft, is banifh'd from your eye, Who hath caufe to wet the grief on't. Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd othcrwifc By all of us $ and the fair foul her felf Weigh'd between loathnefs and obedience, at Which end the beam fhould bow. We've loft yourfon, I fear, ffer ever : Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this bufinefs' making, Than we bring men to comfort them : The fault's your own. Alon. So is the deareft o' th' lofs. Gon. My lord Sebaftian, The truth, you fpeak, doth lack fome gentlenefs, And time to fpeak it in : you rub the fore, When you fhould bring the plaifter. Seb. Very well. Ant. And moft chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather? Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lord - — Ant, He'd fow't with nettle feed. Seb. 28 The T E M P E S T. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do? Seb. Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I'th' commonwealth, I would by contraries Execute all things : for no kind of traffick Would I admit j no name of magiftrate* Letters fhould not be known ; wealth, poverty, And ufe offervice, none 5 contract, fucceffion, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none* No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oylj No occupation, all men idle, all, And women too 5 but innocent and pure : No Sov'reignty. Seb. And yet he would be King on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gon. All things in common nature fhould produce, Without fweat or endeavour. Treafon, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have $ but nature fhould bring forth, Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubje&s ? Ant. None, man 5 all idle j whores and knaves. Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir, T'excell the golden age. Seb. Save his Majefty ! Ant. Long live Gonzalo/ Gon. And, do you mark me, Sir? Alon. Pr'ythee, no more $ thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highnefs 5 and did it to minifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of fuch fenfible and nimble lungs, that they always ufe to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to vou : fo you may continue, and laugh at nothing ftill. Ant. The TEMPE S T. 19 Ant. What a blow was there given ? Seb-. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave metal} you would lift the moon out of her fphere, if flie would continue in it five Weeks without changing. Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick. (13) Seb. We would fo, and then go a batfowling. Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my dis- cretion fo weakly : will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy ? Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us. Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wifh, mine eyes Would with themfelves fliut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to fo do. Seb. Pleafe you, Sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it : It feldom vifits forrow 5 when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your perfon, while you take your reft, And watch your fafety. Alon. Thank you : wond'rous heavy. — All fleep but Seb. and Ant, Seb. What a ftrange drowfinefs poflefles them ? Ant. It is the quality o'th' climate. Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids (ink? I find not My felf difpos'd to fleep. Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble : They fell together all as by confent, They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. What might, Worthy Sebaftian O, what might no more. And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face, What thou (hould'ft be : th'occafion fpeaks thee, and (13) Enter Ariel, playing] This Marginal Direction I have reftor'd from the Old Folio s ; and, furely, 'tis very neceflary, it fliould be in- ferted ; as it contains a Strain of Inchantment, which accounts for Gon- za/o, Alonxo, &c. fo fuddenly dropping afleep. My jo The T E M P E S T< My ftrong imagination fees a crown i Dropping upon thy head* Seb. What, art thou waking? ^ Ant. Do you not hear me fpeak ? Seb, Ido> and, furely, It is a fleepy language j and thou fpeak'ft Out of thy fleep : what is it thou didfl: fay ? This is a ftrange repofe, to be aflcep With eyes wide open : {landing, fpeaking, moving j And yet fo faft afleep. Ant. Noble Sebaftian^ Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep : die rather : wink'ft* Whilft thou art waking. Seb. Thou doft fnore diiiin&ly * There's meaning in thy fnores. Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. Yon Muft be fo too, if heed me* which to do, Trebles thee o'er. (14) Seb. Well : I am ftanding water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Seb. Do fo : to ebb Hereditary floth inftru&s me. Ant. O! If you but knew, how you the purpofe cherhlij Whilft thus you mock it 5 how, in ftripping it, You more inveft it : ebbing men, indeed, (14) Trebles thee oer.~\ i. e. makes thee thrice what thou now ait. Thus the two firft Folio s, and all the other Impreffions of any Authority, that I have feen, exhibit the Text : and the Phrafe is familiar both ttf our Poet, & other Stage- Writers of his Time. Merchant of Venice. A&. 3. Sc. 2. yet for Ton I ivould be trebled twenty times my felf, K. Richard III. Adlj. Sc. 3. JVhy, our Battalion trebles that account. So, Pericles, Prince of lyre; The Boat-fwain ivhif/es, and the Majfer calls, And trebles their Confufion. A And fo, Marfton in his Sophonisba ; Think, e-vry Honour, that doth gract thy Sword, Trebles my Love. Troubles thee o'er is a foolilh Reading, which, I believe, firft got Birth in Mr. Pope's 2 Editions of our Poet ; and, I dare fay, will lie bu- ried there in a proper Obfcurity. Moft ^TEMPEST. 31 Mod often do fo near the bottom run, By their own fear or floth. . Seb. Pry'thee, fay on 5 The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee 3 and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield. Ant. Thus Sir : Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, (Who ihall be of as little memory, When he is earth'd $ ) hath here almoft perfuaded (For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only Profefles to perfuade) the King, his fon's alive 5 'Tis as impoflible that he's undrown'd, As he, that fleeps here, fwims. Seb. I have no hope, That he's undrown'd. Ant. O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you ? no hope, that way, is Another way fo high an hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt difcovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drown'd? Seb. He's gone. Ant. Then tell me Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. ClaribeL Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis y fhe that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life $ fhe that from Naples Can have no Note, unlefs the fun were poft, (The man i'th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chinf Be rough and razorable* fhe, from whom (if) We were fea-fwallow'd j tho' fome, caft again, May by that deftiny perform an aft, Whereof, what's paft is prologue $ what to come, (15) She, for whom ■, * We were fea-fojallow d,~] Thus Mr. Pope, with as little Reafon, as Alb- thority. All the Copies, that I have feen, read, — — — from whom, &c. And why not from ? Were they not fhip wrecked, as is evident above, in their Return from her ? - Would I had never Married my Daughter there I for comjng tJicace, Ue. Is jt The TEMPEST. Is yours and my difcharge Seb. What fluff is this ? how fay you ? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, So is fhe heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is fome fpace* Ant. A fpace, whofe ev'ry cubit Seems to cry out, how fhall that Claribel Meafure us back to Naples ? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death That now hath feiz'd them, why, they were no worfe Than now they are : there be, that can rule Naples, As well as he that deeps 5 lords that can prate As amply, and unnecefTarily, As this Gonzalo j I my felf could make A Chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do$ what a fleep were this For your advancement ! do you underftand me ? Seb. Methinks, I do. Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? Seb. I remember, You did fup plant your brother Prq/pe'ro. Ant. True: And, look, how well my garments fit upon me* Much feater than before. My brother's fervants Were then my fellows, now they are my men. Seb. But, for your confcience, Ant. Ay, Sir 5 where lyes that? If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper: But I feel not this deity in my bofom. Ten confciences, that ftand 'twixt me and Milan, Candy'd be they, and melt, e'er they moleft! Here lyes your brother ■ No better than the earth he lyes upon, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead 5 Whom I with this obedient fteel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever : you doing thus, To the perpetual wink for ay might put This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our courfe. For all the reft, They'll ^TEMPEST. 35 ^They'll take fuggeftion, as a1 car laps milk* They'll tell the clock to any bufinefs, that, We fay, befits the hour. Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend, Shall be my precedent : as thou got'ft Milan^ 1*11 come by Naples. Draw thy fword; one ftroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'ftj And I the King fhall love thee. Ant. Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb. O, but one word. * ■■ Enter Ariel, with Mufick and Song. Art. My matter through his art forefees the danger, That you, his friend, are inj and fends me tarth (For elfe his project dies) to keep them living. [Sings in Gonzalo' s Ear% While you here do fnoaring lye9 Open-ey'd con/piracy His time doth take : If of life you keep a care^ Shake offflumber and beware ; n Awake! awake! Ant. Then let us both be fudden. Gon. Now, good angels preferve the King ! [they wake. Alon. Why, how now, ho? awake? why are you drawn ? Wherefore this ghaftly looking? Gon. What's the matter? Seb. While we flood here fecuring your repore, Ev'n now we heard a hollow burft of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions 5 did't not wake you ? It ftrook mine ear moil terribly. Alon. I heard nothing. Ant. O, 'twas a drn to fright a monfler's ear $ To make an earthquake : fare, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions. Alon. Heard you this ? Vol. I. D Gon. 34 The T E M P E S TV Gon. Upon my honour, Sir, I heard a humming, And that a ftrange one too, which did awake me. I fhak'd you, Sir, and cry'd \ as mine eyes open'd, I faw their weapons drawn: there was a noife, That's verity. 'Tis beft we fland on guard > Or that we quit this place : let's draw our weapons. Jlon, Lead off this ground, and let's make further fearch For my poor fon. Gon. Heav'ns keep him from thefe beafts! For he is, fure, i'th' ifland. jrflon. Lead away. Ari. Profpero my lord mail know what I have done. So, King, go fafely on to feek thy fon. [_Exeunt. SCENE changes to another part of the Ijland. Enter Caliban 'with a burden of wood; a noife of thunder heard. Cal. ALL the infections, that the fun fucks up Jl\ From bogs, fens, flats, on Profper fall, and make him By inch-meal a difeafe ! his fpirits hear me, And yet I needs tnuft curfe. But they'll not pinch, Fright me with urchin fhews, pitch me i'th' mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unlefs he bid 'em 3 but For every trifle are they fet upon me. , Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite mej then like hedge-hogs, which Lye tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall j fometime am I \ All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hifs me into madnefs. Lo ! now! lo! Enter Trinculo. Here comes a fpi'rit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in flowly, I'll fall flat 5 Perchance, he will not mind me. 8 tfrln. The TEMPEST. 3; STr/tf. Here's neither bufh nor fhrub to bear off any weather at all, and another ftorm brewing 5 I hear jc fing i'th' wind : yond fame black cloud, yond huge one, (16) looks like a foul bumbard that would fried his liquor. If it fhould thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head : yond fame cloud cannot chufe but fall by pailfuls— r What have we here, a man or a fifh ? dead or alive ? a fifh j he fmells like a fifh: a very ancient and fifh-like fmell. A kind of, not of the neweft, Poor John : a flrange fifh ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fifh painted, not an holyday-fool there but would give a piece of filver. There would this monfter make a man j any flrange beaft there makes a man 3 when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian, Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms ! warm, o' my troth! I do now let loofe my opinion, hold it no longer, this is no fifh, but an Iflander that hath lately fuffer'd by a thunder-bolt. Alas! the ftorm is come again. My beft way is to creep under his gaberdine : there is no other fhelter hereabout ; mifery acquaints a man with flrange bed-fellows : I will here fhrowd, 'till the dregs of the ftorm be paft. Enter Stephano, fwging. Ste. ljhall no more tofea, to fea^ here Jhall I die a-Jhore. (16) Looks like a foul Bumbard] This Term again occurs in the ill Part of Henr. IV. that fvjoln Par cell of Dropfes, that huge Bum- ' bard of Sack and again in Henr. VIII. And here you lie baiting of Bumbards, when Ye Jhould do Service. By thefe feveral PsfTages, 'tis plain, the Word meant in thofe days a large Veffel for holding Drink, as well as the piece of Ordnance fo call'd. And, I think, at Oxford they now make Ufe of a Vehicle, which is term'd a Gun of Ale. Ben. jfonfn, our Author's Contemporary, likewife employs this Word Bum- hard in this Senfe. 'The poor Cattle yonder are pajfng away the t'rme with a cheat Loaf and a Bumbard of broken Beer, &c. See his Mafque of Augur es. And, in his Tranflation of Horaces Art of Poetry, he renders Projicit Ampullas, Cif fefquipedalia verba,, in this manner ; -» muft throw h Their bumbard Phrafey and foot- an d-half foot Words. D 2. This 3 I'll bring my wood home fader. Ste. He's in his fit now j and does not talk after the wiled : he fhall tafte of my bottle. If he never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit 5 if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him ; he fhall pay for him, that hath him, and that foundly. Cal. Thou doft me yet but little hurt} thou wilt anon, I know it, by thy trembling : now Profper works upon thee. Ste, The TEMPES T. 57 Ste. Come on your ways > open your mouth* here is that which will give language to you, Cat 5 open your mouthj this will fhake your making, I can tell you, and that foundly : you cannot tell who's your friend > open your chaps again. Trin. I mould know that voice: it mould be — but he is drown'd 5 and thefe are devils 5 O! defend me, — Ste. Four legs and two voices * a moft delicate mon- fter ! (17) his forward voice now is to fpeak well of his friend 5 his backward voice is to utter foul fpeeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will re- cover him, I will help his ague: come! Amen! I will pour fome in thy other mouth. Trin. StephanOy ■ ■ Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me ? mercy ! mercy I this is a devil, and no monfter : I will leave him -, I have no long fpoon. ■Trin. Stephano ! Ifthoubeeft Stephana touch me, and fpeak to me* for I am Trinculoy be r*ot afraid, thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. Ifthoubeeft Trinculo^ come forth, I'll pull thee by the lelTer legs : if any be Trinculo9 s legs, thefe are they. Thou art very Trinculo.^ indeed : how cam'ft. thou to be the fiege of this moon-calf? can he venc Trinculo9 s ! Trin. I took him to be kill'd with a thunder-ftroke : but art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drown'd : is the ftorm over-blown ? I hid me under the dead moon- calf's gaberdine, for fear of the ftorm : and art thou living, Stephano ? Q Stephano^ twa Neapolitans fcap'd ! (17) His forward Voice nomj. is to fpeak well of his Friend.^ The fa- cetious Author of Hudibras feems to have had this Paffage in Eye, in* one Part of his Defcriptiorji of Fame. Two Trumpets She doth found at once,. But Both of clean contrary Tones, But whether both with the fame Wind, Or one before, and one behind, We know not; only This can tell; The • nc founds vilely } tW other kve/£ D 3 Sri. 5 3 ^TEMPEST. Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about, my ftomach is not conftant. Cal. Thefe be fine things, an if they be not fprights: that's a brave god, and bears celeftial Jkjuor : I will kneel to him. Ste. How didft thou fcape? hdw cam'ft thou hither? fwear, by this bottle, how thou cam'ft hither: I efcap'd upon a butt of fack, which the failors heav'd over-board, by this bottle ! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, fince I was caft a-fhore. Cal. I'll fwear, upon that bottle, to be thy true fub- je& -3 for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here: fwear then, how efcap'dft thou? Trin. Sworn a-fhore, man, like a duck 5 I can fwim like a duck, I'll be fworn. Ste. Here, kifs the book. Though thou canft fwitn like a chick, thou art made like a goofe. Trin O Stephano^ haft any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by th' fea-fide, where my wine is hid. How now, moon* calf, how does thine ague ? Cal. Haft thou not dropt from heav'n ? Ste. Out o' th' moon, I do aflure thee. I was th< man in th' moon, when time was. Cal. I have feen thee in herj and I do adore thee: my miftrefs fhew'd me thee, and thy dog and thy bufh. Ste. Come, fwear to that 5 kifs the book : I will fur- nifh it anon with new contents : fwear. Trin. By this good light, this is a very fhallow mon- fter : (18) I afraid of him? a very ihaliow monfter: the (i£) /afraid of him? a 'very /hallow monjler. ] It is to be ob- ferv'd, Trinculo is not chargM with any Fear of Caliban ; and therefore This feems to come in abruptly ; bat in This confifts the true Humour. His own Confcioufnefs, that he had been terribly afraid of him, after the Fright was over, drew out this Bragg. This feems to be one of Shake- fpcarez- fine Touches of Nature : for that Trinculo had been horribly frighten'd sit the Monfter, and (hook with Fear of him, while he lay under his Gaberdine, is plain, from What Caliban fays, while he is lving there ? Thou dofi me yet but little Harm j thou wilt anon, 1 knoiu tj thy trembling. man 7fe TEMPEST. 35) man i* th* moon? — a moft poor credulous monfter: well drawn, monfter, in good footh. Cal. 1*11 fhew thee every fertile inch o' th'Ifle, and I will kifs thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god. Trin. By this light, a molt perfidious and drunken monfter j when his god's afleep, he'll rob his bottle. Cal I'll kifs thy foot. I'll (wear my felf thy fubjeft. Ste. Come on then j down, and fwear. Trin. I fhall laugh my felf to death at this puppy- headed monfter : a moft fcurvy monfter ! I could find in my heart to beat him ■■ Ste. Come, kifs. Trin. — But that the poor monfter's in drink : an a- bominable monfter! Cal I'll fhew thee the beft fpringsj I'll pluck thee berries, I'll fifli for thee, and get thee wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I ferve! I'll bear him no more flicks, but follow thee, Thou wond'rous man. Trin. A moft ridiculous monfter, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard. Cal I pry'thee, let me bring thee where crabs grow y And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts > Shew thee a jay's neft, and inftruft thee how To fnare the nimble marmazetj I'll bring thee To cluft'ring filberds, and fometimes I'll get thee (ip) Young Shamois from the rock. Wilt thou go with me? Ste. I pr'ythee now, lead the way without any more (19) Young Scamels from the Rock.~] I can no where elfe meet with fuch a Word as S came I, which has poflefs'd all the Editions. Shakespeare mud certainly either have wrote Shamois (as Mr. Warhurton and I have both conjettur'd) i. e. young Kids : or Sea-malls. The Sea-mall, or Sea- melly or Sea-mew (according to Witlougbby,) is that Bird, which is call'd Larus cinereus ?ninor ; it feeds upon Fifh, and frequents the Banks of Lakes. It is not impoffible, but our Poet might here intend this Bird. Or, again, (and which comes near to Scamel, in the Traces of the Let- ters.) Ray tells us of another Bird, calPd the Stannel, (the fame with the Tinnunculus among the Latins, and y^yyeU amongft the Greeks;) of the Hanvk Species. It is no Matter which of the three Readings we embrace, to we take a Word fignifying the Name of fomething in Nature. D 4 talking 4o ^TEMPEST. talking, frinculo^ the King and all our company elfe being drown'd, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle j fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again. Cal. [Sings drunkenlyJ] Farewel, mafter ; farewel% farewcL frin. A howling monfter j a drunken m.onfter, CaL No more dams Vll make for fijhy Nor fetch in firing at requiring^ Nor fcrape trencher , nor wajh dijh^ Barf Ban\ Cacalyban Has a new mafter , get a new man. Freedom, hey-day ! hey-day, freedom ! freedom, hey- day, freedom ! Ste. O brave monfter, lead the way. [Exeunt.. ACT III. SCENE, before ProfperoV Cell Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log. Ferdinand. THERE be fome fports are painful, but tfyeir labour Delight in them fets off: fome kinds of bafenefs Are nobly undergone, and moft poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task wou'd be As heavy to me, as 'tis odious : but The miftrefs, which I ferve, quickens what's dead,' And makes my labours pleafures : O, ihe is Ten times more gentle, than her father's crabbed -r And he's compos'd of harfhnefs. I mull move Some thoufands of thefe logs, and pile them up, Upon a fore injunction. My fweet miftrefs We?ps, when ihefees me work, and fays, fuch bafenefs Had ne'er like executerj I forget y Bui The T E M P E S T. 41 But thefe fweet thoughts do ev'n refrefh my labotir, Moll bufie-lefs, when I do it. (zo) Enter Miranda $ and Profpero, at a difiance unfeen. Mira. Alas, now pray you, Work not fo hard j I would the lightning had Burn't up thofe logs, that thou'rt enjoin'd to pile: Pray, fet it down and reft you 5 when this burns, 'Twill weep for having wearied you : my father Is hard at ftudy 5 pray now, reft your felf s He's fafe for thefe three hours. Fer. O moft dear miftrefs, The fun will fet, before I fliall difcharge What I muft ftrive to do. Mira. If you'll fit down, I'll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that, I'll carry't to the pile. Fer. No, precious creature, I'ad rather crack my finews, break my back, Than you fhould fuch diihonour undergo, While I fit lazy by. Mira. It would become me, As well as it does you 5 and I fliould do it With much more eafej for my good will is to it, - And yours it is againft. Pro. Poor worm ! thou art infe&ed 5 This vifitation mews it. Mira. You look wearily. Fer. No, noble miftrefs 5 'tis frefti morning with me, When you are by at night. I do befeech you, (Chiefly that I might fet it in my prayers) What is your name ? (20) Leaft bufie when I do it!] This Reading, I^prefume, to be Mr. Pope's; for I do not find it authored by the Copies : The two firft Folio % read; Moft bufy leaft, when I do it. 'Tis true, this Reading is corrupt ; but the Corruption is fo very little re- mov'd from the Truth of the Text, that I can't afford to think well of my own Sagacity for having difcover'd it, Mira* 4i The T E M P E S T. Mir a. Miranda. O my father, I've broke your heft to fay fo. Fer. Admir'd Miranda, ! Indeed, the top of adrnirationj worth What's deareft to the world ! full many a lady I've ey'd with beft regard, and many a time Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear* for feveral virtues Have I lik'd fev'ral women, never any With fo full foul, but fome defect in her Did quarrel with the nobleft grace fhe ow'd, And put it to the foil. But you, O you, So perfect, and fo peerlefs, are created Of every creature's beft. Mir a. I do not know One of my fex > no woman's face remember, Save from my glafs mine own> nor have I feen More that I may call men, than you, good friend, And my dear father > how features are abroad, I'm skillefs of •> but, by mv modefty, (The jewel in my dower) I would not wifti Any companion in the world but you j Nor can imagination form a fhape, Befides your ielf, to like of. But I prattle Something too wildly, and my father's precepts I therein do forget. Fer. I am, in my condition, A Prince, Miranda; I do think, a King} (I would, not fo !) and would no more endure This wooden flavery, than I would iuffer The flefh-flie blow my mouth. Hear my foul fpeak 5 The very inftant that I faw you, did My heart fly to your fervice, there refides To make me flave to it, and for your fake Am I this patient log-man. MiraL Do you love me? Fer. O heav'n, O earth, bear witnefs to this found, A.nd crown what I profefs with kind event. If ^TEMPEST. 43 If Ifpeaktruej if hollowly, invert What belt is boaded me, to mifchief ! I, Beyond all limit of what elfe i' th* world, Do love, prize, honour you. Mir a. I am a fool, To weep at what I'm glad of. Pro. Fair encounter Of two raoft rare affections! heavens rain grace. On that which breeds between 'em ! Fer. Wherefore weep you? Mira. At mine unworthinefs, that dare not offer. What I defire to give* and much lefs take, What I fhall die to want: but this is triflings And all the more it feeks to hide it felf, The bigger bulk it fhews. Hence, bafhful cunning, And prompt me plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry mej If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me $ but I'll be your fervant, Whether you will or no. Fer. My miftrefs, deareft, And I thus humble ever. Mira. My husband then? Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom j here's my hand. Mira. And mine, with my heart in't$ and now fare- wel, Till half an hour hence. Fer. A thoufand, thoufand. [Exeunt* Pro. So glad of this as they, I cannot be, Who are furpriz'd withal 5 but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I'll to my book y For yet, ere fupper-time muft I perform Much bufinefs appertaining. [Exit. SCENE 44 ^TEMPEST. SCENE changes to another fart of the IJland. Enter Caliban, Stcphano and Trinculo. Ste. *Tp ELL not me $ when the butt is out, we will L drink water, not a drop before 5 therefore bear up, and board 'em, fervant-monfter(zi)$ drink to me. tfrin. Servant -monfter! the folly of this Ifland! they fay, there's but five upon this Iflej we are three of them, if the other two be brain'd like us, the ftate totters. Ste. Drink, fervant-monfter, when I bid theej thy eyes are almoft fet in thy head. Trin. Where fhould they be fet elfe ? he were a brave monfter indeed, if they were fet in his tail. Ste. My man-monfter hath drown'd his tongue in fack : for my part, the fea cannot drown me. I fwam, ere I could recover the fliore, five and thirty leagues, off and on 5 by this light, thou lhalt be my lieutenant,, monfter, or my ftandard. ftin. Your lieutenant, if you lift* he's no ftandard. (21) Servant- Monfter. ] The Part of Caliban has been efteem'd a fignal Inftance of the Copioufnefs of Shakefpeare\ Invention ; and that he had (hewn an Extent of Genius, in creating a Perfon which was not in Nature. And for this, as well as his other magical and ideal Characters, a juft Ad~ miration has been paid him. I can't help taking notice, on this Occafion, of the Virulence of Ben. Jon/on, who, in the Induction to his Bartlemeiv Fair, has endeavoured to throw Dirt, not only at this fingle Character, but at this whole Play. " H there be never a Servant Monfter in the '* Fair, who can help it, (he fays,) nor a Nell of Anticks ? He is loth to " make Nature afraid in his Plays, like Thofe that beget Tales, Tempers, " and fuch like Drolleries, to mix his Head with other Mens Heels." Sbakefpeare, as the Tradition runs, was the Perfon who firft brought Jon- fon upon the Stage; and this is the Stab we find given in Requital for fuch a Service, when his Benefactor was retreated from the Scene. A Circum- ftance, that ftrangely aggravates the Ingratitude. But this furly Saucinefs was familiar with Ben ; when the Fublick were ever out of Humour at his Performances, he would revenge it on them, by being out of Humour with thofe Pieces which had belt pleas'd them. 1*11 only add, that his Conduft in This was very contradictory to his cooler ProfeJ/jons, " that " if Men would impartially look towards the Offices and Functions of a " Poet, they would eafily conclude to themfelves the Impojpbility of any *' Man's being the good Poet, without firft being zgood Man. Ste. the TEMPEST. 45 Ste. We'll not run, monfieur monfter. Trin, Nor go neither : but you'll lie like dogs, and yet fay nothing neither. Ste. Moon-calf, fpeak once in thy life, if thou beefl: a good moon-calf. CaL How does thy honour? let me lick thy fhoe> I'll not ferve him, he is not valiant. Trin. Thoulieft, moft ignorant monfter, I am in cafe to juftle a conftable* why, thou debofh'd fifh thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk fo much fack as I to-day ? wilt thou tell a monftrous lie, being but half a fifh, and half a monfter? CaL Lo, how he mocks me : wilt thou let him, my lord ? Trin. Lord, quoth he ! that a monfter fhould be fuch a natural ! CaL Lo, lo, again 5 bite him to death, I pr'ythee. Ste. Trincuh) keep a good tongue in your head > if you prove a mutineer, the next tree- the poor monfter's my fubjccl, and he fhall not fuffer indignity. CaL I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to hearken once again to the fuit I made to thee ? Ste. Marry, will Ij kneel and repeat it 5 I will ftand, and fo fhall Trinculo. Enter Ariel invifible. CaL As I told thee before, I am fubjeft to a tyrant, a forcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the Ifland. Ari. Thou Heft. CaL Thoulieft, thou jefting monkey, thou; I would, my valiant mafter would deftroy thee* I do not lie. Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, by this hand, I will fupplant fome of your teeth* Trin. Why, I faid nothing. Ste. Mum then, and no more ; proceed. CaL I fay, by forcery he got this ifle j From me he got it. If thy greatnefs will Revenge it on him, (for, I know, thou dar'ft, But this thing dare not. — — •) Ste. ■0 The TEMPEST. Ste. That's moft certain. Cal. Thou {halt be lord of it, and I'll ferve thee^ Ste. How now fhall this be compaft? canft thou bring me to the party ? Cal. Yea, yea, my lord, I'll yield him thee afleep, Where thou may'ft knock a nail into his head. Ari. Thou lied, thou canft not. Cal. Whatapy'd ninny's this? thou fcurvy patch ! I do bcfeech thy greatnefs, give him blows, And take his bottle from him j when that's gone, He fhall drink nought but brine, for I'll not fhew hii "Where the quick frefhes are. Ste. 2rincuIo9 run into no further danger : interrupt the monfter one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out of doors, and make a ftock-fifh of thee. Tritt. Why, what did I? I did nothing j I'll go fur- ther off. Ste. Didft thou not fay, he ly'd ? uiri. Thou lieft. Ste. Do I fo ? take you that. {Beats him. As you like this, give me the lie another time. Trin. I did not give thee the He $ out o'your wits, and hearing too ? A pox o' your bottle ! this can fack and drinking do. A murrain on your monfter, and the devil take your fingers. Cal. Ha, ha, ha. Ste. Now, forward with your tale j pr'ythee, ftand further off. Cal. Beat him enoughs after a little time I'll beat him too. Ste. Stand further. Come, proceed. CaL Why, as I told thee, 'tis a cuftom with him I'th' afternoon to fleep> there thou may'ft brain him, Having firft feiz'd his books : or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a ftake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember, Firft to poffefs his books j for without them He's but a fot, as I am 5 nor hath not One fpitit to command. Thev all do hate him, As TfeTEMPEST. . 47 As rootedly as I. Burn but his books; He has brave utenfils, (for fo he calls them,) Which, when he has an houfe, he'll deck withal. And that moft deeply to confider, is The beauty of his Daughter; he himfelf Calls her a non-pareil : I ne'er faw woman, But only Sycorax my dam, and fhe : But llxe as far furpaffes Sycorax, Asgreatefl does the leaft. Ste. Is it fo brave a lafs ? Cal. Ay, lord ; fhe will become thy bed, I warrant, And bring thee forth brave brood. Ste. Monfter, I will kill this man : his daughter and I will be King and Queen, fave our Graces : and Trin- culo and thy felf fhall be Vice-Roys. Doft thou like the plot, Trinculo ? Trin. Excellent. Ste. Give me thy hand j I am forry, I beat thee : but, while thou liv'ft, keep a good tongue in thy head. Cal. Within this half hour will he be afleep^ Wilt thou deftroy him then? Ste. Ay, on my honour. Ari. This will I tell my mafter. Cal. Thou mak'ft me merry ; I am full of pleafure; Let us be jocund. Will you troul the catch, You taught me but while-ere ? Ste. At thy requeft, monfter, I will do reafon, any reafon : come on, Trinculo^ let us fing. [.Sings. Flout Vw, and shut *em$ and shut 'em, and flout em$ thought is free. Cal. That's not the tune: [Ariel plays the Tune on a Tabor and Pipe. Ste. What is this fame? Trin. This is the tune of our catch, plaid by the pic- ture of no-body. Ste. If thou be'ft a man, fhew thy felf in thy likenefs ; if thou be'ft a devil, take't as thou lift. Trin. O, forgive me my fins ! Ste. He that dies, pays all debts : I defie thee. Mer- cy upon us ! Cal. 48 The T E U P E S T. Cat. Art thou afraid? Ste. No, monfter, not I. Cat. Be not afraid 3 the ifle is full of noifes, Sounds, and fweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thoufand twanging inftruments Will hum about mine ears, and fometimes voices \ That, if I then had wak'd after long fleep, Will make me fleep again > and then in dreaming, The clouds, methought, would open, and {hew riches Ready to drop upon mej that when I wak'd, 1 cry'd to dream again. Ste. This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I fhall have my mufick for nothing. Cat. When Profpero is deftroy'd. Ste. That fhall be by and by : I remember the ftory. TWff. The found is going awayj let's follow it, arid after do our work. Ste. Lead, monfter* we'll follow. I would I could fee this taborer. He lays it on. trin. Wilt come ? I'll follow Stephano. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to another Tart of the IJland. Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francifco, &c. Gon. T)Y'R lakin, I can go no further, Sir, -O My old bones ake ; here's a maze trod, indeed, Through forth-rights and meanders ! by your patience, I needs mud reft me. 9* Alon. Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am my felf attach'd with wearinefs, To th' dulling of my fpirits : fit down and reft* Ev'n here I will put off my hope, and keep it No longer for my flatterer : he is drown'd, Whom thus we ftray to find, and thefea mocks Our fruftrate fearch on land. Well, let him go. Ant. I am right glad that he's fo out of hope. Do not, for one repulfe, forego the purpofe That you refolv'd t'effeft. Set. ^TEMPEST, 4P Seb. The next advantage Will we take throughly. Ant. Let it be to night 5 For, now they are opprefs'd with travel, they Will not, nor cannot, ufe fuch vigilance, As when they're freih. Seb. I fay, to night : no more. Solemn and ft range mufick •> and Profpero on the top^ i'nvi* fible. Enter feveral ftrange JhapeS) bringing in a banquet 5 and dance about it with gentle actions of falutation > and^ inviting the King^ &c. to eat^ they depart. , Alon. What harmony is this? my good friends, hark! Gon. Marvellous fweet mufick ! Alon. Give us kind keepers, heaven 5 what were thefe ? Seb. A living drollery. Now I will believe, That there are unicorns 3 that, in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix' throne 5 one phcenix At this hour reigning there. Ant. I'll believe both : And what does elfe want credit, come to me, And I'll be fworn 'tis true. Travellers ne'er did lie5 Though fools at home condemn 'em. Gon. If in Naples I mould report this now, would they believe me ? If I mould fay, I faw fuch iflanders : (For, certes, thefe are people of the ifland) Who tho' they are of monftrous fhape, yet, note, Their manners are more gentle- kind, than of Our human generation you {hall find Many $ nay, almoft any. Pro. Honeft lord, Thou haft faid well $ for fome of you there prefent Are worfe than devils. Alon. I cannot too much mufe, Such fhapes, fuch gefture, and fuch found, expreffing (Although they want the ufe of tongue) a kind Of excellent dumb difcourfe. Pro. Praife, in departing. • Fran. They vanifh'd ftrangely. Vol. I. E Seb. 5o ^TEMPEST. Seb. No matter, fince They've left their viands behind 5 for we have ftomachs. Will't pleafe you taite of what is here ? Alon. Not I. Gon. Faith, Sir, you need not fear. When we wereboys^ Who would believe, that there were mountaineers, Dew-lapt like bulls, whofe throats had hanging at 'em Wallets of flefh, or that there were fuch men, Whofe heads flood in their breafts? which now we find, Each putter out on five for one will bring us (12) Good warrant of. Alon. (22) Each Putter cut of Five for One- ] By the Variation of a fingle Letter, I think, I have fet the Text right; and will therefore now proceed to explain it. I freely confefs, that I once underflood thisPaflage taus ; that every five Travellers (or Putters out) did bring authentick Confirmation of thefe Stories, for one that pretended to difpute the Truth cf them : But communicating my Senfe of the Place to Two ingenious Friends, I found, I was not at the Bottom of the Meaning. Mr. War- hurton obferv'd to me, that this was a fine Piece of conceal'd Satire on the Voyagers of that Time, who had juft difcover'd a new World ; and, as was very natural, grew moll extravagant in difplaying the Wonders of it. That, particularly, by Each Putter out of Five for One, was meant the Adventurers in theDifcovery of the Weft Indies, who had for the Money they advanced and contributed, 20 per Cent. — - Dr. Thirlby did not a lit- tle afiifi this Explanation by his Concurrence, and by inftructing me, that ic was ufual in thofe Times for Travellers to put out Money, to receive a greater Sum if they liv'd to return ; and, for Proof, he referr'd me toM?- rifons Itinerary, Part I. p. 198, &c. I cannot return my Friends better Thanks for the Light they have given me upon this PafTage, than by fub- joining aTeftimony from a contemporary Poet, that will put both their Ex- planation, and my Correction of the Text, pall difpute. B. Jonfons Every Man out of his Humour, in the Character of Pun~ tarvolo. I do intend, this Year of Jubilee coming on, to travel: And [becaufe I •wilt not altogether go upon Expence,) I am determined to put forth fome five ihoufand pound, to he paid me five for one, upon the Return of my felf my Wife, and my Dog, from the TurkV Court in Conltantinople. If All, cr Either of Us mi /carry in the Journey, "'tis gone ', if We he fuccefsful, nvhy, there ncill be five and twenty thoufand Pounds to entertain Time ivi thai. If this was to be the Return of the Knighfs Venture ; 'tis obvious, he put out his Money on five for one. Ben. to heighten the Ridicule of thefe projecting Voyagers, makes Puntarvalos Wife averfe to accompany him; 2nd fb he is forc'd to put out his Venture on the Return of himfelf, his Dog, and his Cat. Let me conclude with obferving on the different Con- duct of the Two Poets. Shakefpeare (perhaps, out of a particular Befe- ruacfc fortirW. Raleigh) onlymeers thele adventurous Voyagers obliquely, and. The T E M P E S T. 51 Alon. I will ftand to, and feed, Although my laftj no matter, fkce I feel The belt is paft. Brother, my lord the Duke, Stand to, and do as we. thunder and^ lightning. Enter Ariel like a harpy , clap* his wings upon the table, and with a queint device the banquet vanijhes. Ari. You are three men of fin, whom deftiny (That hath to inftrument this lower world, And what is in't) the never-furfeited fea Hath caufed to belch up> and on this Ifland (23) Where man doth not inhabit, you 'mongft men Being moft unfit to live. I have made you mad -> And ev'n with fuch like valour men hang and drown Their proper felves. You fools ! I and my fellows Are minifters of fate 5 the elements, Of whom your fwords are temper'd, may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemockt-at flabs Kill the ftill-clofing waters, as diminifh One down that's in my plume : my fellow-minifters Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, Your fwords are now too maffie for your ftrengths, And. will not be up-lifted. But remember, (For that's my bufinefs to you) that you three From Milan did fupplant good Profpero: Expos'd unto the fea (which hath requit it) Him, and his innocent child : for which foul deed The powers delaying, not forgetting, have Incens'd the feas and fhores, yea, all the creatures, Againft your peace : thee of thy fon, Alonfa They have bereft} and do pronounce by me, Ling'ring perdition, worfe than any death and, as it were, en paffant : The furly Ben, who would be tyed up by no fuch fcrupulous Regards, drefles up the Fafhion in the moft glaring Co- lours of Comic Humour-, or, rather, brings down hk Satire to the Level of farcical Ridicule. t ^ (23) Hath cam d to helcb you up {] Thus, the whole Set o f Editions; bu tis obvious to every Reader, that the Grammar's faulty ; and therefore I save cur'd it by throwing out you. E z Can yi The T E M P E S T. Can be at once, (hall ftep by ftep attend You and your ways > whofe wrath to guard you from, (Which here in this rnoft defolate Ifle elfe falls Upon your heads,) is nothing but heart's forrow, And a clear life enfuing. He vanijhes in thunder : then9 to foft mufick^ Enter the Jhapes again^ and dance with mopps and mowes^ and car' rying out the table. Fro. Bravely the figure of this harpy haft thou Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had devouring: Of my inftru&ion haft thou nothing bated, In what thou hadft to fay : fo with good life, And obfervation ftrange, my meaner minifters Their feveral kinds have done j my high charms work, And thefe, mine enemies, are all knit up In their diffractions : they are in my powers And in thefe fits I leave them, whilft I vifit Young Ferdinand, (whom they fuppofe is drown'd,) And his and mylov'd darling. [Exit Profpero/n?;# above.' Gon. V th' name of fomething holy, Sir, why ftand you In this ftrange ftare? Alon. O, it is monftrous ! monftrous ! Methoughts, the billows fpoke, and told me of it 3 The winds did fing it to me-y and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The Name of Pro/per : it did bafe my trefpafs. Therefore, my fon i' th' ooze is bedded 5 and I'll feek him deeper than e'er plummet founded, And with him there lye mudded. [Exit. Seb. But one fiend at a time, I'll fight their legions o'er. Ant. I'll be thy fecond. {Exeunt. Gon. All three of them are defperate* their great guilt, Like poifon giv'n to work a great time after, Now 'gins to bite the fpirits. I do befeech you, That are of fuppler joints, follow them fwiftlyj And hinder them from what this ecftafie May now provoke them too. Adri. Follow, I pray you." [Exeunt, AG T ^TEMPEST. 53 A C T IV. SCENE, ProfperoV Cell. Enter Profpero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. Pro s pero. IF I have too aufterely punifh'd you, Your compenfation makes amends > for I Have giv'n you here a thread of mine own life j (z.f) Or that, for which I live -y whom once again I tender to thy hand : all thy vexations Were but my tryals of thy love, and thou Haft ftrangely flood the teft. Here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift : O Ferdinand, Do not fmile at me, that I boaft her ofFj For thou malt find, flie will outftrip all praife, And make it halt behind her. Fer. I believe it, Againfl; an oracle. (24) ■ -. firl Have givn you here a third of my own life,] Thus all the Impreffions in general ; but why is She only a Third of his own Life? He had no Wife living, nor any other Child, to rob her of a Share in his Affection : So that We may reckon her at leaft half of himfelf. Nor could he in- tend, that he lov'd himfelf twice as much as he did her ; for he imme- diately fubjoins, that it was She for whom he livd. In Othello, when Iago alarms the Senator with the lofs of his Daughter, he tells him, Tour Heart is hurft, you have loft half your Soul. And Dimidium anim& mete is the current Language on fuch Occaiions. There is no Room for doubt, but I have reftor'd to the Poet his true Read- ing; and the Thread of Life is a Phrafe moll frequent with him. So iia. K.. Henry V. v And let not BardolfeV vital Thread he cut With Edge of Penny Cord. 1. Henr. VI. ■• had not Churchmen prayd, His Thread of Life had not fo foon decayed. 2. Henr. VI. Argo, their Thread of Life is fpun. Othello. <■ Tm glad, thy father s dead ; Thy Match was mortal to him, and pure Grief Shore his old Thread in twain. E, j Pro- 54 f& T E M V EST, Pro. Then as my gift, and thine own acquifition Worthily purchas'd, take my Daughter. But If thou doft break her virgin-knot, before All fan£Hmonious ceremonies may With full and holy Rite be minifter'd, No fweet afperfions fliall the heavyns let fall To make this contract grow : but barren hate* Sour-ey'd difdain, and difcord fliall beftrew The union of your bed with weeds fo loathly, That you fliall hate it both: therefore take heed, As Hymen's lamps ihall light you. Per. As I hope Far quiet days, fair iffue, and long life, With fuch love as 'tis now 5 the murkieft den, The moft opportune place, the ftrong'ft fuggeflion Our worfer Genius can, fliall never melt Mine honour into luft ; to take away The edge of that day's celebration, When I fliall think or Phoebus' fteeds are founder'd, Or night kept chain'd below. Pro. Fairly fpoke. Sit then, and talk with her, flie is thine own. What, Ariel 1 my induftrious fervant, Ariel— — » Enter Ariel. Art. What would my potent matter? here I am. Pro. Thou and thy meaner fellows your lafl: fervice Did worthily perform -, and I muft ufe you In fuch another trick 5 go, bring the rabble, O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place ; Incite them to quick motion, for I mult Beftow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art > it is my promife, And they expect it from me. Art. Prefently? Pro, Ay, with a twink. Ari. Before you can fay, Come, and go, And breathe twice > and cry, fo, fo 5 Each one, tripping on his toe, Will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, matter ? no ? Pr$. the TEMPEST. ;j Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel j do not approach, 'Till thou doft hear me call. Ari. Well, I conceive. [Exit. Pro. Look, thou be true 5 do not give dalliance Too much the rein j the ftrongeft oaths are flraw To th' fire i'th' blood : be more abftemious, Or elfe, good-night, your vow ! ■ ■— Per. I warrant you, Sir j The white, cold, virgin-fnow upon my heart Abates the ardour of my liver. Pro. Well. Now come, my Ariel j bring a corollary, Rather than want a fpirit* appear, and pertly. — No tongue j all eyes> be filent. \to Ferdinand. [Soft Mu/ick. A MAS §)JJ E. Enter Iris. Iris. Ceres, moft bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, fetches, oats, and peafej Thy turfy mountains, where live nibling fheep, And flat meads thatch'd with ftover, them to keep 5 Thy banks with pioned, and tulip'd brims, Which fpungy April at thy heft betrims, To make cold nymphs chafte crowns -9 and thy broom- groves, Whofe fliadow the difmifled batchelor loves. Being lafs-lorn 5 thy pole- dipt vineyard, And thy fea-marge fteril, and rocky hard, Where thou thy fclf do'ft air* the Queen o'th' sky, Whofe wat'ry arch and meiTenger am I, Bids thee leave thefe j and with her Sov'raign Grace, Here on this grafs-plot, in this very place, To come and fport 5 her peacocks fly amain : Approach, rich Ceres9 her to entertain. Enter Ceres. Cer. Hail, many-colour'd mefTenger, that ne'er Do'ft difobey the wife of Jupiter : Who, with thy fafFron win^s, upon my flowers Diffufeft honey dsops, refreiliing Ihowers* E 4 And 5 Her and her blind boy's fcandaPd company I have forfworn. Iris. Of her fociety Be not afraid j I met her deitv Cutting the clouds towards Paphos^ and her fon Dove-drawn with hers here thought they to have done Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, Whofe vows are, that no bed-right mall be paid 'Till 'Hymen's torch be lighted ; but in vain Mars's hot minion is return'd again j Her wafpiih*headed fon has broke his arrows ; Swears, he will moot no more, but play with fparrows3 And be a boy right-out. Cer. High Queen of (late, Great Juno^ comes 5 I know her by her gate. [Juno defcends^ and enters* Jun. How does my bounteous fifter? go with me To blefs this twain, that they may profp'rous be, And honour'd in their iflue. Jun. Honour , riches , marriage hie flings Long continuance and encreafing^ Hourly- joys be ft ill upon you 5 Juno fings her ble flings on you : Cer. Earth's increafe, and foy [on-plenty^ (if) Barns and garners never empty ^ Vinei . '(25) Earth's Increafe."] All the Editions, that I have ever feen, con* cur in placing this whole Sonnet to Juno: but very abfurdly, in my Opinion, I believe, every accurate Reader, who "is acquainted with poetic*^ The TEMPEST. 57 Vines, with cluftring hunches growing, Plants, with goodly burthen bowings Spring come to you, at the farthefi, In the 'very end of harveft : Scarcity and want Jhall Jhun you 5 Ceres'* bleffing fo is on you. Fer. This is a mod majeftick virion, and Harmonious charmingly : may I be bold To think thefe fpirits ? Pro. Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call'd to ena£fc (16) My prefent fancies. Fer. Let me live here ever 5 So rare a wonder'd father, and a wife, Make this place paradife. Pro. Sweet now, filence: poetical Hiftory, and the diflintt Offices of thefe two GoddefTes, and who then ferioufly reads over our Author's Lines, will agree with Me, that Ceres % Name ought to have been placed where I have now prefix' d it. (26) / have from All their Confines] This All is obtruded upon Us by the nice Ears of our modern Editors, who were for helping the Verfe, upon a Supposition that the Accent in Confines muft needs be upon the firft Syllable. But the Practice of our Poet is againft them ; and there-* fore I have reftor'd him to his own Reading. See As you like it. Ail. 2. Sc. 1 . And yet it irks me, the poor dappled Fools ; Being native Burghers of this defart City, Should, in their ovjn Confines, , K. John. AB. 4. 'this Kingdom, this Confine of Blood and Breath, And Hamlet. Acl. 1. Sc. i. Tfr extravagant and erring Spirit hyes % his Confine. And in his Poem intitled, In Praife of his Love. In vjhofe Confine immured is the Store, Which Jhould example where your Equal grew. And, again, in his Poem call'd, A Lover' s Complaint. O moji potential Love ! Vovj, Bond, nor Space, In thee hath neither Sting, Knot, nor Confine : And in his Amorous Epifile of Paris to Helen. Shipping my f elf from the Sigsan Shore, Whence unto thefe Confines my Courfe I bore. And, I believe, in every other PafTage throughout his Works, where he, has ufed this Word, the Accent is constantly on the laft Syllable. Jun $8 7&? TEMPEST. Juno and Ceres whifper ferioufly ; There's fomething elfe to do 5 hufh, and be mute, Or elfe our fpell is marr'd. Juno and Ceres whifper ', and fend Iris on imployment. Iris. You nymphs, call'd Nayads, of the winding brooks, With your fedg'd crowns, and ever-harmlefs looks, Ijsave your crifp channels, and on this greenland Anfwer your fummons, Juno does command : Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love> be not too late. Enter certain Nymphs. You fun-burn'd ficklemen, of Auguft weary, Come hither from the furrow, and be merry j Make holy-day 5 your rye-ftraw hats put on^ And thefe frefh nymphs encounter every one In country footing. Enter certain reapers, properly habited', they join with the nymphs in a graceful dance j towards the end whereof, Profpero ft arts fuddenly, and fpeaks\ after which, to a ftrange, hollow and confufed noife, they vanijh heavily* Pro. I had forgot that foul confpiracy Of the beaft Caliban* and his confed'rates, Againft my life > the minute of their plot Is almoft come. Well done, avoid 5 no more. Fer. This is ftrange > your father's in fome paffion That works him ftrongly. Mir. Never 'till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger, fo diftemper'd. Pro. You look, my fon, in a mov'd fort, As if you were difmay'd j be chearful, Sir : Our revels now are ended : thefe our actors, As I foretold you, were all fpirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air 5 And, like the bafelefs fabrick of this vifion, The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The folemn temples, the great globe it felf, Yea, all, which it inherit, fhall difibi And, The TEMPEST. 59 And, like this infubftantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind ! we are fuch fluff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a fleep. Sir, 1 am vext* (2,7) Bear with mv weaknefs, my old brain is troubled : Be not difiurb'd with my infirmity j If thou be pleased, retire into my cell, Lncl there repofe • ' a turn or two I'll walk, To ftill my beating mind. Per. Mir a. We wiih your peace. \Exe. Fct. and Mir. Pro. Come with a thoughts—- 1 thank you: » Ariel) come. Profpero comes forward from the Cell; eater Ariel to him. Art. Thy thoughts I cleave to 5 what's thy pleafure? Pro. Spirit, We muft prepare to meet with Caliban. (27) ' ' ' ■ Sir, I am fo I charm'd their ears, That, calf-like, they my lowing followed through Tooth'd briars, {harp furzes, pricking gofs and thorm, Which enter'd their frail fhins: at laft I left them I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to th' chins, that the foul lake O'er- flunk their feet. Pro. This was well done, my bird j Thy lhape invifible retain thou ftill j The trumpery in my houfe, go bring it hither, For ftale to catch thefe thieves . Ari. I go, I go. [Exit. Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whofe nature Nurture can never flick 5 on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all loft, quite loft 5 And, as with age, his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers j I will plague them all. Even to roaring : come, hang them on this line. [Profpero remains invifible. Enter Ariel leaden with gliftering apparel, &c. Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet. Cal. Pray you, tread foftly, that the blind mole ma^ not Hear a foot fall 5 we now are near his cell. Ste. Monfter, your Fairy, which you fay is a harm- lefs Fairy, has done little better than plaid the Jack with us. Trin. Monfter, I do fmell all horfe-pifs, at which my nofe is in great indignation. Ste* The TEMPEST. ct Ste. So is mine : do you hear, monfter? if I fhould take a difpleafure againft you 5 look you Frin. Thou wert but a loft monfler. CaL Good my lord, give me thy favour flill : Be patient, for the prize, I'll bring thee to, Shall hood-wink this mifchance 5 therefore, fpeak foftlyj All's hufrit as midnight yet. Trin. Ay, but to lofe our bottles in the pool, — Ste. There is not only difgrace and dishonour in that, monfter, but an infinite lofs. trin. That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmlefs Fairy, monfter. Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er cars for my labour. CaL. Pr'ythee, my King, be quiet: feeft thou here, This is the mouth o' th' cell 5 no noifc, and enter > Do that good mifchief, which may make this Ifland Thine own for ever 5 and I, thy Caliban, For ay thy foot-licker. Ste. Give me thy hand 5 I do begin to have bloody- thoughts. trin. O King Stephano! O Peer ! O worthy St ephanof Look, what a wardrobe here is for thee! CaL Let it alone, thou fool, it is but trafti. trin. Oh, oh, monfter 5 we know what belongs to a frippery 5 O, King Stephano! Ste. Put off that gown, trinculo; by this hand, I'll have that gown. trin. Thy grace fhall have it. CaL The dropfie drown this fool ! what do you mean, To doat thus on fuch luggage ? let's along, And do the murder firft : if he awake, From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches j Make us ftrange fluff. Ste. Be you quiet, monfter. Miftrefs line, is not this my jerkin? now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin,^you are like to lofe your hair, and prove a bald jerkin. trin. Do, do > we fteal by line and level, and't like your Grace. Ste. c% ^TEMPEST. Ste. I thank thee for that jeft, here's a garment for't i wit fhall not go unrewarded, while I am King of this country : fteal by line and level, is an excellent pafs of pate j there's another garment for't. Trin. Monfter, come, put fome lime upon your fin- gers, and away with the reft. Cat. I will have none on't > we fhall lofe our time, And all be turn'd to barnacles, or apes With foreheads villanous low. Ste. Monfter, lay to your fingers; help to bear this away, where my hogfhead of wine is, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom j go to, carry this. Urin. And this. Ste. Ay, and this. A noifi of hunters heard. Enter divers fpirits in Jhape of hounds, hunting them about \ Profpero and Ariel fitting them on. Calib. Steph. and Trine, driven out, roaring. Pro. Hey, Mountain, hey. Ari. Silver > there it goes, Silver. Pro. Fury, Fury > there, tyrant, there > hark, hark 5 Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints With dry convulfions j fhorten up their finews With aged cramps > and more pinch-fpotted make them, Than pard, or cat o' mountain. Ari. Hark, they roar. Pro. Let them be hunted foundry. At this hour Lye at my mercy all mine enemies : Shortly fhall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom -9 for a little, Follow, and do me fervice. [Exiunt. ACT ^TEMPEST. *$ ACT V. SCENE, before the Cell. Enter Profpero in his magick rohts^ and Ariel. Prosper o. NO W does my project gather to a head ; My charms crack not 3 my fpirits obey, and time Goes upright with his carriage : how's the Day ? Aru On the fixth hour, at which time, my lord, You faid, our work fhould ceafe. Pro. I did fay fo, When firft I rais'd the tempeftj fay, my fpirit, How fares the King and's followers ? Aru Confin'd In the fame fafhion as you gave in charge; Juft: as you left them, all your prifoners, Sir, In the Lime-Grove which weather- fends your cell. They cannot budge, 'till your releafe. The King, His brother, and yours, abide all three diftra&ed -9 And the remainder mourning over them, Brim-full of forrow and difmay 5 but, chiefly, Him that you term'd the good old lord Gonzalo. His tears run down his beard, like winter drops From eaves of reeds 5 your charm fo ftrongly works 'em* That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender. Pro. Do'ft thou think fo, fpirit ? Art. Mine would, Sir, were I human. Pro. And mine fhall. Haft thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and mall not my felf, One of their kind, that relifh all as fliarply, PaffioH CAr The TEMPEST. Paflion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art ? (2.8) Tho' with their high wrongs I am ftruck to th' quick, Yet, with my nobler reafon, 'gainft my fury Do I take part 5 the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance 5 they being penitent, The fole drift of my purpofe doth extend Not a frown further; go, releafe them, Ariel % My charms I'll break, their fenfes I'll reflore, And they fliall be themfelves. ArL I'll fetch them, Sir. [Exit. Pro. Ye elves of hills, brooks, ftanding lakes and groves, And ye, that on the fands with printlefs foot Do chafe the ebbing Neptune-, and do fly him, When he comes back 5 you demy-puppets, that By moon-fhine do the green four ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites 3 and you, whofe paftime Is to make midnight mufhrooms, that rejoice To hear the folemn curfew 5 by whofe aid (Weak matters tho' ye be) I have be-dimm'd The noon-tide fun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green fea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war> to the dread ratling thunder Have I giv'n fire, and rifted Jove's flout oak With his own bolt : the ftrong-bas'd promontory Have I made {hake, and by the fpurs pluckt up (28) Paiiion'd as they,] Thus Mr. Pope in both his Editions. But all the authentick Copies read ; Paflion as they ■ i. e. feel the Force of Paflion; am mov'd with it; So again Julia, in the Sjwo Gentlemen of Verona ; Madam, "'twas Ariadne paflioning For Thefeus' Perjury, and unjuji Flight. > So, in Titus Andronicus, he makes a Verb of pajfionate, fignifying, to exprefs the Paflion, the Diftrefs of, &c. Thy Neice and I, poor Creatures, want our hands, And cannot paflionate our tenfold Grief With folded Arms. And in his Poem, call'd, Venus and Adonis, our Author ufes Pajfion as a Verb, meaning, to grieve: Dumbly (be pailions, frantickly the doatctb. The ^TEMPEST. gj The pine and cedar : graves at my command (?s>) Have wak'd their fleepers * op'd, and let them forth By my fo potent art. But this rough magick I here abjure 5 and when I have requir'd Some heav'nly mufick, which ev'n now I do, (To work mine end upon their fenfes, that This airy charm is for*) I'll break my ftaffj Bury it certain fadoms in the earth > And, deeper than did ever plummet found, I'll drown my book. \Solemn mujlck. Here enters Ariel before ; then Alonfo with a frantick Gef- ture^ attended by Gonzalo. Sebaftian and Anthonio in like manner , attended by Adrian and Francifco. They all enter the circle which Profpcro had made^ and than fi and charmed-, which Profpero obferving^ fpeaks. A folemn air, and the befl: comforter To an unfettled fancy, cure thy brains Now ufelefs, boil'd within thy skull ! There fland, For you are fpell-ftopt.— — Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, Mine eyes, ev'n fociable to th' fhew of thine, Fall fellow-drops.— The charm diflblves apace j And as the morning fteals upon the night, Melting the darknefs 5 fo their rifing fenfes Begin to chafe the ign'rant fumes, that mantle Their clearer reafon. O my good GonzaIo9 My true preferver, and a loyal Sir To him thou follow'ft* I will pay thy graces (29) — — — Graves at my Command Have wak'd their Sleepers;] As odd, as this Expreffion is, of Graves waking their Dead, inftead of, the Dead waking in their Graves, I believe, it may be jultified by the Ufage of Poets. Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Bonduca, fpeaking of the Power of Fame, make it wake Graves, Wakens the ruin'd Monuments, and there, Where Nothing but eternal Death and Sleep is, Informs again the dead Bones. And Virgil, fpeaking of Rome as a City, fays, it furrounded its feven Hills with a Wall. Scilicet iff rerum fa£la eft pulcherrima Roma, Septemque una Jibi muro circumdedit arces. Vol. I. F Home 66 Tfje T E M P E S T. Home both in word and deed. Moft cruelly Didfi; thou, Alonfo^ ufe me and my daughter : Thy brother was a furtherer in the aft j Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebaftiarh ftefb and blood, (30) You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expell'd remorie and nature -, who with Sebaftian (Whofe inward pinches therefore are moft ftrong) Would here have kill'd your King 5 I do forgive thee, Unnat'ral though thou art. Their underftanding Begins to fwell, and the approaching tide Will ftiortly fill the reafonable fhore, That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them, That yet looks on me, or would know me. -Ariel) Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell 5 I will dif-cafe me, and my felf prefent, \_Exit Ariel, and returns immediately. As I wasfometime Milan: quickly, Spirit} Thou fhalt ere long be free. Ariel JingSi and helps to attire him. Where the bee fucks , there lurk I; (31) In a cozvftifs bell I lie: There I couch , when oivls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly^ After Sunfet, merrily. (32,) Merrily (30) Thourt pinch' d for' t now, Sebaftian. FUjh and BJoodi] I by no means think, this was our Author's Pointing ; or that it gives us his Mean- ing. He would fay, that Sebaftian now was pinch'd thro' and thro' for his Trefpafs ; felt the Punifhment of it all over his Body ; a like manner of ExprefTion we meet with in King Lean • ■ at this time I'll tell no tales. Seb. The devil fpeaks in him. Pro. No : For you, moll: wicked Sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy ranked faults j all of them 5 and require My Dukedom of thee, which perforce, 1 know, Thou muft reftore. Alon. If thou be'ft Profpero, Give us particulars of thy prefervation, How ^TEMPEST. c9 How thou haft met us here, who three hours fince Were wrackt upon this fhore; where I have loft (How fharp the point of this remembrance is !) My dear fon Ferdinand. Pro. I'm woe for't, Sir. Alon. Irreparable is the lofs, and Patience Says, it is paft her cure. Pro. I racher think, You have not fought her help ; of whofe foft grace, For the like lofs, I have her fov'reign aid, And reft my felf content. Alon. You the like lofs ? Pro. As great to me, as late* and, fupportable To make the dear lofs, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you 5 for I Have loft my daughter. Alon. A daughter? 0 heav'ns ! that they were living both in Naples, The King and Queen there ; that they were, I wifh, My felf were mudded in that oozy bed, Where my fon lies. When did you lofe your daughter? Pro. In this laft tempeft. I perceive, thefe lords At this encounter do fo much admire, That they devour their reafon ; and fcarce think, Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath : but howfoe'er you have Been juftled from your fenfes, know for certain, That I am Profp'ro^ and that very Duke Which was thruft forth of Milan; who moft ftrangely Upon this fhore, where you were wrackt, was landed To be the lord on't. No more yet of thisj For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfaft, nor Befitting this firft meeting. Welcome, Sir; This cell's my court •> here have I few attendants, And fubjedts none abroad; pray you, look in; My Dukedom fince you've given me again, 1 will requite you with as good a thing ; At leaft, bring forth a wonder to content ye. As much as me my Dukedom. F j SCENE 70 The TEMPES T. SCENE opens to the Entrance of the Cell. Here Profpero difcovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at Chefs. Mira. PWEET lord, you play mc falfe, l3 Fer. No, my dear lore, I would not for the world. Mira. Yes, for a fcore of kingdoms you fhould wrangle, And I would call it fair play. Alon. If this prove A virion of the Ifland, one dear fon Shall I twice lofe. Seb. A mod high miracle ! ^Fer. Though the feas threaten, they are merciful: I've curs'd them without caufe. Alon. Now all the bleffings [Ferd. kneels. Of a glad father compafs thee about! Arife, and fay how *hou cam'ft here. Mira. O ! wonder ! How many goodly creatures are there here ? How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has fuch people in't ! Pro. 'Tis new to thee. Alon. What is this maid, with whom thou waft at play ? Your eld'ft acquaintance cannot be three hours : Is fhe the goddefs that hath fever'd us, And brought us thus together? Fer. Sir, fhe's mortal ; But, by immortal providence, fhe's mine* I chofe her, when I could not ask my father For his Advice: nor thought, I had one: fhe Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom fo often I have heard renown, But never faw before 5 of whom I have Receiv'd a fecond life, and fecond father This lady makes him to me. Alon. I am hers* But, oh, how odly will it found, that I Mult ask my child forgivenefs ! Pro. The TEMPEST. 71 Pro. There, Sir, flop 5 Let us not burthen our remembrance with An heavinefs that's gone. Gen. I've inly wept, Or fhould have fpoke ere this. Look down, you Gods, And on this couple drop a blefled crown : For it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way, Which brought us hither ! Alon. I fay, Amen^ Gonzalo! Gon. Was Milan thruft from Milan^ that his iflue Should become Kings of Naples ! O rejoice Beyond a common joy, and fet it down In gold on lafting pillars ! in one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis > And Ferdinand^ her brother, found a wife, Where he himfelf was loftj Profpero his Dukedom, In a poor Ifle j and all of us, our felves, When no man was his own. Alon. Give me your hands : Let grief, and forrow ftill embrace his heart, That doth not wifh you joy ! Gon. Be'tfo, Amen! Enter Ariel, with the Mafier and Boatfwain amazedly following. 0 look, Sir, look, Sir, here are more of us ! 1 prophefy'd, if a gallows were on land, This fellow could not drown. Now, blafphemy, That fwear'fi: grace o'erboard, not an oath on ihore ? Haft thou no mouth by land? what is the news? Boatf. The beft news is, that we have fafely found Our King and company ; the next, our fliip, Which but three glaffes fince we gave out fplit, Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when We firfl: put out to fea. Ari. Sir, all this fervice Have I done fince I went. Pro. My trickfey fpirit ! Alon. Thefe are not natural events 5 they ftrengthen, From ftrange to ftranger. Sav, how came you hither? F 4 Boatf. 7t ^TEMPEST. Boat/. If I did think, Sir, I were well awake, I'd flrive to tell you. We were dead a-fleep, And, how we know not, all clapt under hatches, Where but ev'n now with ftrange and fev'ral noifes Of roaring, fhrieking, howling, jingling chains, And more diverfity of founds, all horrible, We were awak'dj ftraightway at liberty: Where we, in all her trim, frefhly beheld (33) Our royal, good and gallant fhip 5 our mafter Cap'ring to eye her 5 on a trice, fo pleafe you, Ev'n in a dream, were we divided from them, And were brought moping hither. Ari. Was't well done ? Pro. Bravely, my diligence j thou fhalt be free. Alon. This is as ftrange a maze as e'er men trod, And there is in this bufinefs more than nature Was ever conduct of j fome oracle Muft re&ify our knowledge. Pro. Sir, my Liege, Do not infefl; your mind with beating on The ftrangenefs of this bufinefs 5 at pickt leifurc (Which fhall be fhortly) Angle I'll refolve you, Which to you fhall feem probable, of every Thefe happen'd accidents > till when be chearful, And think of each thing well. Come hither, lpiritj Set Caliban and his companions free : Untie the fpell. How fares my gracious Sir? There are yet miffing of your company Some few odd lads, that you remember not. (33) Where ive, in all our 'Trim, frejhly beheld Our royal, good and gallant Ship; ] What was their Trim, would the Editors have us conceive ? The Fright that they had been put into, by the Diverfity of Noifes ? But, as Dr. Thirlby rightly obferv'd to Me, the Trim is to be underftood of the Ship, and not of the Crew. An4 this very Exprefiion occurs again in the Comedy of Errors ; The Ship is in her Trim ; the merry Wind Blows fair from Land, &c. And Milton has likewife copied the Exprefiion ; . Behold a ftately Ship, Proud of her ga-ivdy Trim, comes this for all is but fortune j Coragio^ bully-monfter, Coragio ! ?rin. If thefe be true fpies, which I wear in my head, here's a goodly fight. Cat. O Setebos, thefe be brave fpirits, indeed ! How fine my mailer is ! I am afraid, He will chaftife me. Seb. Ha, ha 5 What things are thefe, my lord Anthonio ! Will mony buy 'em? Ant. Very like 5 one of them Is a plain fifh, and no doubt marketable. Pro. Mark but the badges of thefe men, my lords, Then fay, if they be true : this mif-fhap'd knave, His mother was a witch, and one fo ftrong That could controul the moon, make flows and ebbs« And deal in her command without her power : Thefe three have robb'd me 5 and this demy-devil (For he's a baftard one) had plotted with them To take my life -, two of thefe fellows you Muft know and own 5 this thing of darknefs I Acknowledge mine. Cat. 1 mail be pincht to death. Alon. Is not this Stephano^ my drunken butler? Seb. He's drunk now : where had he wine ? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe 5 where fhould they Find this grand 'lixir, that hath gilded 'em? ($4) How (34) Find this grand Liquor .] I certainly think, S hake/pear e wrote % Lixir here; alluding to the grand Elixir of which the Chymifts of that Age told fuch Wonders, that it would renew Youth, purchafe Immorta- lity, tsV. and it being, as they pretended, a Preparation of Gold, they, call'd it alfo, Aurum potahile: hence, 'tis probable, Shakefpeare fays, gilded; and to This, without doubt, he again alludes in his Anthony and Cleopatra ; How much art thou unlike Mark Antony ? Yet coming from him, that great Med'cihe hath With his tincl gilded thee. But 74 The T E M P E S T. How cam'fl: thou in this pickle? %rin. I have been in fuch a pickle, fince I faw you laft, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones : I fhall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano'i Ste. O, touch me not : I am not Stephano^ but a cramp. Pro. You'd be King o'th' ifle, Sirrah? Ste. I mould have been a fore one then. Alon. 'Tis a ftrange thing, as e'er I look'd on. Pro. He is as difproporxion'd in his manners, As in his mape : go, Sirrah, to my cell, Take with you your companions j as you look To have my Pardon, trim it handfomly. Cat. Ay, that I will 5 and I'll be wife hereafter, And feek for grace. What a thrice double afs Was I, to take this drunkard for a god ? And worfhip this dull fool? Pro. Go to, away ! Alon. Hence, and beflow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or ftole it rather, Pro. Sir, I invite your highnefs, and your train, To my poor cell 5 where you fhall take your reft For this one night, which (part of it) I'll wafte With fuch difcourfe, as, I not doubt, fhall make if Go quick away 5 the ftory of my life, And the particular accidents gone by, Since I came to this Ifle : and in the morn I'll bring you to your fliip> and fo to Naples $ Where I have hope to fee the nuptials Of thefeour dear-beloved folemniz'dj And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought fhall be my grave. Alon. I long To hear the ftory of your life, which muft Take the ear itrangely. But, in the PafTage before us, it feems his Defign to joke upon theRo- domontado Boafts of their Elixir-, and to iniinuate, that Sack was the ©nly Reftorer of Youth, and Beftower of Immortality. Air. Warburton. Pro. The TEMPEST. 75 Pro. Ill deliver all 5 And promife you calm feas, aufpicious gales, And fail fo expeditious, that fhall catch Your royal fleet far off: My Ariel, chick, That is thy charge: Then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well! Pleafe you, draw near. . [Exeunt omnes. E P I- EPILOGUE. Spoken by Tre/pero. NO TV my charms are all o'er-thrown, And what ftrength I have's mine own j Which is moft faint: and now , 'tis true, 1 muft be here confined by you, Orfent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my Dukedom got, And pardon 'd the deceiver ; dwell In this bare ijland by your fpell : But releafe me from my bands , With the help of your good hands. Gentle breath of yours my fails Muft fill) or elfe my projecl fails. Which was to pleafe. For now I want Spirits f enforce, art to enchant j And my ending is defpair, ($f) Unlefs I be relieved by prayer $ Which pierces fo, that it ajfaults Mercy it felf, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon }d be, Let your indulgence fet me free. (35) And my ending is Defpair,] The Allufion is very well kept up in this Epilogue. And the Attor here is not only applying to the Audi- ence for Favour, in behalf of the Author ; but Profpero {peaks in the Cha- racter of a Magician \ and fo (as Mr. Warburton hinted to me) alludes to the old Stones told of the Necromancers' Defpair in their laft Moments, and the Prayers of their Friends for them. Midsummer-Night's DREAM. Dramatis Perfonse. THESEUS, Duke of Athens. Egeus, an Athenian Lord. Lyfander, in love with Hermia. Demetrius, in love with Hermia. Philoftrate, Majler of the Sports to the Duke \ Quince, the Carpenter. Snug, the Joiner. Bottom, the Weaver. Flute, the Bellows-mender. Snowt, the Tinker. Starveling, the Tailor. Hippolita, Princefs of the Amazons, betrothed to Thefeus. Hermia, Daughter to Egeus, in love with Lyfander. Helena, in love with Demetrius. Attendants. Oberon, King of the Fairies. Titania, Queen of the Fairies. Puck, or Robin-goodfellow, a Fairy. Peafebloflbm, J Cobweb, ( r . . Moth, > Fames. Muftard-feed, ) Pyramus, x\r li f Characters in the Interlude performed by ™ V r *& Clowns. Moonlhine, V. Lyon. J Other Fairies attending on the King and Queen. SCENE, Athens ; and a Wood not far from it* A Midsummer-Night's DREAM. ACT! SCENE, the Duke's Palace in Athens. Enter Thefeus, Hippolita, Philoftrate, with attendants. Theseu s. ■O W, fair Hippolita^ our nuptial hour Draws on apace > four happy days bring in Another moon : but oh, methinks, how flow This old moon wanes ! flie lingers my defires, Like to a flep-dame, or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue. Hip. Four days will quickly fteep themfelvesin night j Four nights will quickly dream away the time : And then the moon, like to a filver bow New bent in heaven, fhall behold the night Of our folemnities. The. Go, Philoftrate, Stir up th' Athenian youth to merriments, Awake the pert and nimble fpirit of mirth : Turn melancholy forth to funerals, The pale companion is not for our pomp. [Exit Phi. Hippolita, I woo'd thee with my fword, And 8 o A Midfummer- Night's Dream. And won thy love, doing thee injuries : But I will wed thee in another key, With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling. Enter Egeus, Hermia, Lyfander, and Demetrius. Ege. Happy be Thefeus, our renowned Duke ! 7he. Thanks, good Egeus \ what's the news with thee ? Ege. Full of vexation, come I with Complaint Againft my child, my daughter Hermia. Stand forth) Demetrius. — My noble lord, This man hath my confent to marry her. Stand forth) Lyfander. — And, my gracious Duke, This man hath witch'd the bofom of my child : Thou, thou, Lyfander) thou haft giv'n her rhimeSj And interchang'd love-tokens with my child: Thou haft by moon-light at her window fung, With feigning voice, verfes of feigning love j And ftoll'n th' impreflion of her fantafie, With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, Knacks, trifles, nofegays, fweet- meats* (meflengers Of ftrong prevailment in unharden'd youth) With cunning haft thou filch'd my daughter's heart, Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, To ftubborn harfhnefs : And, my gracious Duke, Be't fo, fhe will not here before your Grace Confent to marry with Demetrius 5 I beg the ancient privilege of Athens^ As fhe is mine, I may difpofe of her : Which fhall be either to this gentleman, Or to her death, according to our law, Immediately provided in that cafe. The. What fay you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid. To you your father fhould be as a God, One, that compos'd your beauties 5 yea, and one, To whom you are but as a form in wax By him imprinted; and within his power To leave the figure, or disfigure it : Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. Her. So is Lyfander. The. In himfelfheis* But A MMfummer-Ntghfs Dream. 8 1 But in this kind, wanting your father's voice^ The other muft be held the worthier. Her. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes. The. Rather your eyes muft with his judgment look* Her. I do intreat your Grace to pardon me: I know not, by what pow'r I am made bold j Nor how it may concern my modefty, In fuch a prefence here, to plead my thoughts : But, I befeech your Grace, that I may know The worft, that may befal me in this cafe, If I refufe to wed Demetrius. The. Either to die the death, or to abjure For ever the fociety of men. Therefore, fair Hermia^ queftion your defires* Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice, You can endure the livery of a nun 5 For aye to be in fhady cloifter mew'd, To live a barren fifter all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold, fruitlefs, moon? Thrice blefTed they, that mafter fo their blood, To undergo fuch maiden pilgrimage ! But earthlier happy is the rofe diftill'd, Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in fingle blefTednefs. Her. So will I grow, fo live, fo die, my lord, Ere I will yield my virgin patent up Unto his lordfhip, to whofe unwifh'd yoak My foul confents not to give Sov'reignty. The. Take time to paufe j and by the next new moon, (The fealing day betwixt my love and me, For everlafting bond of fellowship) Upon that day either prepare to die, For difobedience to your father's will 5 Or elfe to wed Demetrius^ as he would 5 Or on Diana's altar to proteft, For aye, aufterity and fingle life. Dem. Relent, fweet Hermia 5 and, Lyfander^ yield Thy crazed title to my certain right. Vol. I. Q Lyf. S z A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream* Lyf. You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's; do you marry him. Ege. Scornful Lyfander! true, he hath my love^ And what is mine, my love mall render him. And (he is mine, and all my right of her I do eftate unto Demetrius. Lyf. I am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he5 As well pofTeft : my love is more than his : My fortune's ev'ry way as fairly ranked, If not with vantage, as Demetrius : And, which is more than all thefe boafts can fac9 I am belov'd of beauteous Hermia. Why mould not I then profecute my right ? Demetrius (I'll avouch it to his head) Made love ro Nedar's daughter, Helena; And won her foul $ and me, fweet lady, doats, Devoutly doats, doats in idolatry, Upon this fpotted and inconftant man. The. I mud confefc, that I have heard fo much, And with Demetrius thought t' have fpoke thereof ^ But, being over-full of felf-afFairs, My mind did lofe it. But, Demetrius^ comej And come, Egeus 5 you fhall go with me 5 I have fome private fchooling for you both. For you, fair Hermia, look, you arm your felt To fit your fancies to your father's will* Or elfe the law of Athens yields you up (Which by no means we may extenuate) To death, or to a vow of fingle life. Come, my Hippolitat, what cheer, my love? Demetrius, and Egeus, go along > I mu ft employ you in fome buiinefs Againft our nuptials, and confer with you Of fomething nearly that concerns your felves. Ege. With duty and defire we follow you. \Exeunt. Manent Lyfander and Hermia. Lyf. How now, my love ? why is your cheek fo pale ? How chance, the roles there do fade fo faft ? Her. Belike, for want of ram \ which I could well Beteem them from the tempeft of mine eyes. Lyf* A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. 8 5 Lyf. Hermia^ for ought that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or hiftory* The courfe of true love never did run fmoothj But, either, it was different in blood — Her. O crofs ! — too high, to be enthralled to low ! — (i) Lyf Or elfe mifgraffed, in refpeft of years* Her. O fpight ! too old, to be engag'd to young ! Lyf Or elfe it flood upon the choice of friends— \ Her. O hell ! to chufe love by another's eye ! Lyf. Or if there were a fympathy in choice, War, death, or ficknefs did lay fiege to it j Making it momentary as a found, Swift as a fliadow, fhort as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That (in a fpleen) unfolds both heav'n and earth j And ere a man hath power to fay, Behold! The jaws of darknefs do devour it up 5 So quick bright things come to confufion. - — * ■ ■« Her. If then true lovers have been ever croft, (1) Too high, to be enthrall d to Love.] This Reading pofTenes all the Editions, but carries no juft meaning in it. Nor was Hermia difpleas'd at being in Love \ but regretts the Inconveniences, that generally attend the Paffion \ Either, the Parties are difproportion'd, in degree of Blood and Quality ; or unequal, in refpeci of Years; or brought together by the Appointment of Friends, and not by their own Choice. Thefe are the Complaints reprefented by Ly fonder ; and Hermia, to ailfwer to the firfl, as fhe has done to the other two, muft neceflarily fay ; O Crofs ! — - too high, t§ he enthrall' d to low \ So the Antithefis is kept up in the Terms ; and fo fhe is made to con- dole the Difpropoftion of Blood and Quality in Lovers. And This is one of the Curfes, that Veiius, on feeing Adonis dead, prophefies mall al- ways attend Love,in our Authors Poem, call'd, VE NU Stood ADO Nl§-> Stanz. 190. Since thou art dead, k f here I profhefie, Sorrow on Love hereafter fhall attend ; ft fhall he 'waited en uin. T S all our company here ? JL Bot. You were beft to call them generally man by man, according to the fcrip. §uin. Here is the fcrowl of every man's name, which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our in- terlude before the Duke and Dutchefs, on his wedding- day at night. Bot. Firft, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats on 5 then read the names of the actors j and fo grow on to a point. Quin. Marry, our play is the moil lamentable come- dy, and moft cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby. Bot. A very good piece of work, I aflure you, and a merry. Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your aftors by the fcrowl. Matters, fpread your felves. §uin. Anfwer, as I call you. Nick Bottom, the weaver. Bot. Ready : name what part I am for, and proceed. Ghtin. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus. Bot. What is Pyramus, a lover, or a tyrant ? §h*in. A lover, that kills himfelf moft gallantly for love. Bot. That will ask fome tears in the true perform - G 4 ing 8 8 A Midfummer- Night's Dream. ing of it 5 if I do it, let the audience look to their, eyes ; I will move ftorms $ I will condole in fome meafure. To the reft y- yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant -y I could play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in: To make all fplit — —(3) " the raging uin. It is the lady, that Pyrdmus muft love. Flu. Nay, faith, let not me play a woman , I have a beard coming. 6>uin. That's all one, you fhall play it in a mafque $ and you may fpeak as fmall, as you will. Bot. An I may hide my face, let me play thisby too 5 I'll fpeak in a monftrous little voice, Thi[ne\ Thifne; ah, Pyramus, my lover dear, thy Thisby dear, and lady dear. Quin. No, no, you muft play Py ramus $ and Flute ^ you, Thisby. Bot. Well, proceed. 6)um. Robin Starveling, the taylor. Star, Here, Peter Quince. Quin. Robin Starveling, you muft play Thisby' s mo- ther. (4) (3) The raging "Rocks And jhi-cering Shocks, &c] I prefume This to be either a Quotation from fome fuftian old Play, which I have not been able to trace; or if not a direct Quotation, a Ridicule on fome bombafl Rants, very near refembling it. (4) you muft play Thisby V Mother.'] There feems a double For- getfulnefs of our Poet, in relation to the Characters of this Interlude. The Father and Mother of Thisbe, and the Father of Py ramus, are here mention'd, who do not appear at all in the Interlude: but ?^W/and Moonjhine are Both employ'd in it, of whom there is not the leaft No- tice taken here. Tom A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. 8 9 font Snowt^ the tinker. Snowt. Here, Peter Quince. 6)uin. You, Pyramus's father 5 my felf, Ifhisby's fa- ther j £Wg, the joiner j you, the lion's part 5 I hope, there is a play fitted. Snug. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am flow of ftudy. §>uin. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring. Bot. Let me play the Lion too 3 I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me. I will roar, that I will make the Duke fay, let him roar a- gain, let him roar again. §)uin. If you fhould do it too terribly, you would fright the Dutchefs and the ladies, that they would fhriek, and that were enough to hang us all. Jill That would hang us a>very mother's fon. Bot. I grant you, friends, if you fliould fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more dip- cretion but to hang us 5 but I will aggravate my voice fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove j I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale. §)um. You can play no part but Pyramus^ for Pjr- ramus is a fweet-fac'd man j a proper man, as one {hall fee in a fummer's day 5 a moft lovely gentleman- like man : therefore you muft needs play Pyramus. Bot. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I be ft to play it in ? Sguin. Why, what you will. Bot. I will difcharge it in either your ftraw-colour beard, your orange-tawny-beard, your purple- in-grain beard, or your French crown-colour'd beard $ your perfect yellow. Quin. Some of your French crowns have no hair at all, and then you will play bare-fac'd. But, matters, here are your parts j and I am to intreat you, requeft you, and defire you, to con them by to morrow night 5 and meet me in the palace-wood, a mile without the town, by moon-light, there we will rehearfej for if we meet in the city, we fl*all t>e dog'd with company; and ^o A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. and our devices known. In the mean time I will draw a bill of properties, fuch as our play wants. I pray you, fail me not. Bot. We will meet, and thcjre we may rehearfe more obfcenely and courageoufly. Take pains, be perfect, adieu. Ghtin. At the Duke's oak we meet. Bot. Enough > hold, or cut bow-ftrings. — [Exeunt* A C T II. ■ SCENE, a Wood. Enter a Fairy at one d$ory and Puck (or Robin-good» fellowy at another. Puck. HO W now, fpirit, whither wander you ? Fat. Over hill, over dale, Through bufh, through briar, Over park, over pale, Through flood, through fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's fphere j And I ferve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green y The cowflips tall her penfioners be, In their gold coats fpots you fee, Thofe be rubies, Fairy-favours : In thofe freckles live their favours : I muft go feek fome dew-drops here, And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear. Farewel, thou lob of fpirits, I'll be gone, Our Qjeen and all her elves come here anon. Puck. The King doth keep his revels here to night, Take heed, the Queen come not within his fight. For A Midfummer- Nights Dream. 5 1 For Oberon is parting fell and wrath, Becaufe that Ine, as her attendant, hath A lovely boy, ftol'n from an Indian King : She never had fo fweet a changeling \ And jealous Oberon would have the child Knight of his train, to trace the*forefts wild* But £he per-force with-holds the loved boy, Crowns him with flow'rs, and makes him all her joy, And now they never meet in grove, or green, By fountain clear, or fpangled ftar-light fheen, But they do fquare, that all their elves for fear Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there. Fat. Or I miftake your fhape and making quite, Or elfe you are that flirewd, and knavifh fprite, Call'd Robin- goodfellow* Are you not he, That fright the maidens of the villageree, Skim milk, and fometimes labour in the quern, And bootlefs make the breathlefs hufwife chern j And fometime make the drink to bear no barm, Mif-lead night-wand'rers, laughing at their harm ? Thofe that Hobgoblin call you, and fweet Pucky You do their work, and they {hall have good luck. Are not you he ? Puck, Thou fpeak'ft aright 5 I am that merry wand'rer of the nights I jeft to Obeyon^ and make him finite, When I a fat and bean-fed horfe beguile, Neighing in likenefs of a filly-foal 5 And fometimes lurk I in a goflip's bowl, In very likenefs of a roafted crab, And when fhe drinks, againft her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale. The wifeft aunt, telling the faddeft tale, Sometime for three-foot flool miftaketn me* Then flip I from her bum, down topples fhe, And tailor cries, and falls into a cough $ And then the whole quire hold their hips, and loffe, And waxen m their mirth, and neeze, and fwear, £. merrier hour was never wafted there. But P t A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. But make room, fairy, here comes Oberon. Fai. And here my miftrefs : would, that he were gone ! Enter Oberon King of Fairies at one door with his train^ and the Queen at another with hers. Ob. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania. Queen.. What, jealous Oberon ? fairies, skip hence, I have forfworn his bed and company. Ob. Tarry, rafh wanton -, am not I thy lord ? Queen. Then I muft be thy lady 3 but I know, When thou ha'ft ftoll'n away from fairy land, And in the fliape of Corin fate all day, Playing on pipes of corn, and verfing love To am'rous Phillida. Why art thou here, Come from the fartheft fteep of India ? But that, forfooth, the bouncing Amazon, Your buskin'd miftrefs and your warrior Love, To The feus muft be wedded 5 and you come To give their bed joy and profperity. Ob. How can?ft thou thus for fhamc, Titania9 Glance at my credit with Hippolita 5 Knowing, I know thy love to The feus? Didft tjiou not lead him through the glimmering night From Perigune^ whom he ravifhed $ (f) And make him with fair ALgle break his faith, With Ariadne^ and Antiopa ? Queen. Thefe are the forgeries of jealoufie : And never fincc the middle fummer's fpring (5) From Pcrigenia, nvhom be rawi/frd :] Thus all the Editors, either not knowing, or not attending to, the Hiitory of this Lady, have falfely call'd her : but our Author, who diligently perus'd Plutarch, and glean'd from him, where his Subject would admit, knew, from the Life of ^hefeus, that her Name was Perigyne ; (or Perigune) by whom Thefeus had his Son Melanippus. She was the Daughter of Sinnis a cruel Rob- ber, and Tormenter of Paflengers in the Ifthmus. Plutarch and Atht- ti Apollodorus and Paufaniast likewife tell us ;) that he killed her Father into the Bargain. I correc- ted this Miftake of the Name in my SHAKES PE4&E rejiord ; and Kir. P*pe has vouchsafed to correft from Me in his lait Edition. $ Met A Midfummer- Night's Dream. 9 $ Met we on hill, in dale, foreft, or mead, By paved fountain, or by rufhy brook, Or on the beached margent of the fea, To dance our ringlets to the whittling wind, But with thy brawls thou haft difturb'd our fport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, As in revenge, have fuck'd up from the fea Contagious fogs j which falling in the land, Have every pelting river made fo proud, That they have over- born their continents. The ox hath therefore ftretch'd his yoak in vain, The ploughman loft his fweat > and the green corn Hath rotted, ere its youth attain'd a beard. The fold ftands empty in the drowned field, And crows are fatted with the murrion Hock j The nine-mens morris is fill'd up with mud, And the queint mazes in the wanton green, For lack of tread, are undiftinguifhable. The human mortals want their winter here, (6) No (6) ■ ■ want their Winter here.] The concluding Word is, cer- tainly, a very dragging Expletive : and tho' I have not venturM to dis- place it, I fcarce believe it genuine. I once fufpe£ted it fhould be — — want their - want their Winters heried ; " i. e. prais'd, celebrated; an Old Word: and the Line, that follows, ' Ihews the propriety of it here. The Thing is this ; The Winter is the f Seafon for rural Rejoycings on feveral Accounts; becaufe they have c got their Fruits in, and have wherewithal to make merry. (And there- " fore, well might me fay, The human Mortals want their Winters hereid, " when me had defcribed the Dearths of the Seafons, and the fruitlefs" E Toil of the Husbandman.) Then, the Gloominefs of the Seafon, and the ; Vacancy of it, encourage them to it ; and laftly, which is principally in- ' timated here, (notwithftanding the Impropriety of the Sentiment, as it is ' circumftanc'd) fmce Chri/iitmity, this Seafon^ on Account of the Birth of " the 3>4 A Midfummer- Night's Dredm. No night is now with hymn or carol bleft> Therefore the moon, the governefs of floods, | Pale in her anger, wafhes all the air j That rheumatick difeafes do abound. And thorough this diftemperature, we fee The feafons alter j hoary-headed frofts Fall in the frefh lap of the crimfon rofe $ And on old Hyems1 chin, and icy crown, An od'rous chaplet of fweet fumraer-buds Is, as in mockery, fet. The fpring, the fummer, The childing autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries j and th' amazed world, By their increafe, now knows not which is which $ And this fame progeny of evil comes From our debate, from our diflenfion % We are their parents and original. Ob. Do you amend it then, it lyes in you. Why fhould Titania crofs her Oberon? I do but beg a little changeling boy, To be my henchman, Queen. Set your heart at reft, The fairy-land buys not the child of me. His mother was a votrefs of my order, And, in the fpiced Indian air by night, Full often flie hath goflipt by my fide* And fat with me on Neptune's yellow fands, Marking th' embarked traders on the flood, When we have laught to fee the fails conceive, And grow big-bellied with the wancon wind : " the Author of our Faith, is particularly devoted to Feftivity: and to this " Cuftom, be afTur'd, Hymn or Carol blefi alludes. I fhould undoubtedly have advancd this Conjetture into the Text, could I have ever trae'd the Word in any of S hake/pear e's Writings ; but I think, he rather feems fond of hallow d. CHAUCER and SPENCER, I know, Both ufe herie, very frequently: from the Latter I'll produce a PafTage, where in one Couplet it is join'd with Hymn and Carol, as here in our Author ; Wri wouldejl thou learn to carol ofLonxe, And hery with hymns thy Lajfes Glove. Y*L Shepherd'/ Kalendar, for the Month of February. Which A Midfumtner-Nighfs Dream. 9 5 Which fhe, with pretty and with fwimming gate, (7) Follying (her womb then rich with my young fquire) Would imitate j and fail upon the land, To fetch me trifles, and return again, As from a voyage rich with merchandize. But flie, being mortal, of that boy did die > And, for her fake, I do rear up her boy 5 And, for her fake, I will not part with him. Ob. How long within this wood intend you ftay^? Sjhieen. Perchance, 'till after Thefeus* wedding day. If you will patiently dance in our round, And fee our moon-light revels, go with us 5 If not, fhun me, and I will fpare your haunts. Ob. Give me that boy, and I will go with thee. ^ueen. Not for thy fairy kingdom. Elves, away : We fhall chide downright, if I longer ftay. [Exeunt Queen and her Train, Ob. Well, go thy way j thou fhalt not from thisgrove^ 'Till I torment thee for this injury. — My gentle Puck, come hither 3 thou remember'ft Since once I fat upon a promontory, And heard a Mermaid, on a Dolphin's back, Uttering fuch dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude fea grew civil at her fong 5 And certain ftars fhot madly from their fpheres, To hear the fca-maid's mufick. Puck. I remember. Ob. That very time I faw, but thou could'ft not. Flying between the cold moon and the earth, (7) Which Jhe with pretty and with fwimming gate, Following [her Womb then rich with my young Squire) Would imitate;] Following What? She did not follow the Ship whofe Motion (he imitated ', for That fail'd on the Water, She on the Land. And if by following, we are to underftand, copying ; it is a mere Pleonafm, that Meaning being included in the Word imitate. From Circumftances in the Context, there is great Reafon to think our Author wrote, follying. i. e. wantoning, in Sport and Gaiety ; fo the old Writers ufed Follity for Foolifhnefs ; and Both Words are from, and in the Senfe offoldtrer, to play the Wanton. And this admirably agrees with the Action, for which fhe is here commended, and with the Con- text ; full often has fie goffip'd by myfde, and, When we have laugh' d to fee, fcc. Mr. Warbarton: Cupid $6 A Midfumrner-Nighfs Dream. Cupid alarm'd : a certain aim he took (8) At a fair Veftal, throned by the weft, And Ioos'd his love-fliaft fmartly from his bow, As it fliould pierce a hundred thoufand hearts -, But I might fee young Cupid's fiery fhaft Quench'd in the chafte beams of the wat'ry moon, And the Imperial Votrefs paffed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet msirk'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell, It fell upon a little weftern flower j Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound} And maidens call it Love in idlenefs. Fetch me that flow'r j (the herb I fhew'd thee once $) The juice of it on fleeping eye-lids laid, "Will make or man, or woman, madly doat Upon the next live creature that it fees. Fetch me this herb, and be thou here again, Ere the Ltviatban can fwim a league. Puck. I'll put a girdle round about the earth In forty minutes. [Exit*. Ob. Having once this juice$ I'll watch tetania when me is afleepj And drop the liquor of it in her eyes : The next thing which fhe waking looks upon, (Be it on lyon, bear, or wolf, or bull, On medling monkey, or onbufie ape) She mail purfue it with the foul of love : And ere I take this charm from off her fight, (8) Cupid all arm'd ;] Surely, this prefents us with a very unclaflical Image. Where do we read or fee, in ancient Books, or Monuments, Cupid arm'd more than with his Bows and Arrows ? and with thefe we for ever fee him arm'd. And thefe are all the Arms he had Occafion for in this prefent Action ; a more illuftrious One, than any, his Friends, the Clafficks, ever brought him upon. The Change I make is fo fmall, but the Beauty of the Thought fo great, which this Alteration carries with it, that, I think, we are not to hefitate upon it. For what an Addition is this to the Compliment made upon this Virgin Queens Celibacy, that it alarm d the Power of Love ? as if his Empire was in Danger, when this Imperial Votrefs had deelar'd herfelf for a fingle Life : fo powerful would her great Example be in the World. — Queen Elizabeth could not but be pleafed with our Author's Addrefs upon this Head. Mr. War bur ton. (As A Mtdfummer-Nighfs Dream. $ 7 (As I can take it with another herb) I'll make her render up her page to me, But who comes here ? I am invifible, (p) And I will over-hear their conference. Enter Demetrius, Helena following him. Dem. I love thee not, therefore purfue me riot. Where is Lyfander, and fair Hermia ? The one I'll flay ; the other flayeth me. (10) Thou told'fl me, they were ftol'n into this woodj And here am I, and wood within this wood j Becaufe I cannot meet my Hermia. Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. Hel. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant, But yet you draw not iron* for my heart Is true as fteel. Leave you your pow'r to draw, And I mall have no pow'r to follow you. Dem. Do I entice you? do I fpeak you fair? Or rather do I not in plaineft truth Tell you, I do not, nor I cannot, love you? Hel. And ev'n for that do I love thee the more 5 I am your fpaniel j and, Demetrius , The more you beat me, I will fawn on you : Ufe me but as your fpaniel, fpum me, ftrike me, Neglect me, lofe me $ only give me leave, Unworthy as I am, to follow you. What worfer place can I beg in your love, (And yet a place of high refpect with me) Than to be ufed, as you ufe your dog? Dem. Tempt not tod much the hatred of my fpiritj For I am fick, when I do look on thee. (oj / am invifible,] I thought proper here to obferve^ that, as Oberon, and Puck his Attendant, may be frequently obferv'd to {peak, when there is no mention of their Entering ; they are dehgn'd by the Poet to be fuppbs'd on the Stage during the greateir Part of the Remainder of the Play ; and to mix, as they pleafe, as Spirits, with the other Ac- tors ; and embroil the Plot, by their Interpolition, without being feen, or heard, but when to their own Purpofe. (10) The one Til Hay, the other ftayeth me."] Thus it has been in all the Editions hitherto : but Dr. Thirlby ingenioufly faw, it mult be, as I have cor reded in the Text. Vol. I U Hel. ^8 A Midfummer-Nighft Dream. Hel. And I am fick, when I look not on you. Dem. You do impeach your modefty too much, To leave the city, anpl commit your felf Into the hands of one that loves you not 5 To truft the opportunity of night, And the ill counfel of a defart place, With the rich worth of your virginity. Hel. Your virtue is my privilege •, for that It is not night when I do lee your face, Therefore, I think, I am not in the night. Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company j For you in my refpect are all the world. Then how can it be faid, I am alone 5 When all the world is here to look on me ? Dem. I'll run from thee and hide me in the brakes,, And leave thee to the mercy of wild beafts. Hel. The wildeft hath not fuch a heart as you j Run when you will, the ftory fhall be chang'd : Jpollo flies, and Daphne holds the chafe > The dove purfues the griffin > the mild hind Makes fpeed to catch the tyger. Bootlefs fpeed ! When cowardife purfues, and valour flies. Dem. I will not ftay thy queftions* let me go: Or if thou follow me, do not believe, But I fhall do thee mifchief in the wood. . Hel. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mifchief. Fie, Demetrius, Your wrongs do fet a Icandal on my fex: We cannot right for love, as men may do; We fhou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo, I follow thee, and make a heav'n of hell 5 To die upon the hand, I love fo well. [Exeunt. Ob. Fare thee well, nymph > ere he doth leave this grove, Thou fhalt fly him, and he fhall feek thy love, tiaft thou the flow,r there ? welcome, wanderer. Enter Puck; Puck. Ay, there it is. Ob. I pray thee, give it me$ A Midfummer- Night's Dream. 99 I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lip and the nodding violet grows, O'er-canopy'd with lufcious woodbine, With fweet musk-rofes, and with eglantine. There fleeps Titania, fome time of the night, Lull'd in thefe fiow'rs, with dances and delight j And there the fnake throws her enammePd skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in : And with the juice of this I'll ftreak her eyes, And make her full of hateful fantafies. Take thou fome of it, and feek through this grove $ A fweet Athenian lady is in love With a difdainful youth j anoint his eyes j But do it, when the next thing he efpies May be the lady. Thou fhalt know the man, By the Athenian garments he hath on. Effect it with fome care, that he may prove More fond of her, than fhe upon her love 5 And, look, you meet mc ere the firft cock crow. Puck. Fear not, my lord, your fervantfhall do fo. [Ext. Enter Queen of fairies^ with her train. Queen. Come, now a roundel, and a Fairy fong: Then, 'fore the third part of a minute, hence 5 (11) Some to kill cankers in the musk-rofe buds, Some war with rear-mice for their leathern wings, To make my fmall elves coats > and fome keep back The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders At our queint fpirits. Sing me now afleep : Then to your Offices, and let me reft. Fairies fing. Ten /potted fnakes with double tongue'^ Thorny hedgehogs, be not feen 5 Newts and blind worms , do no wrong % Come not near our fairy Queen. (11) Then for the third part of a Minute hence^\ But the Queen fets them Work, that is to keep them employ'd for the Remainder of the Night : The Poet, undoubtedly, intended her to fay, Dance your Round, and fing your Song, and then inftantly [before the third part of a Minute) begone to your rerpec~tfve Duties. H x Philo- ioo A Midfummer-Ni&hts Dream. Philomel, with melody, Sing in your pweet lullaby*, Lulla, lulla, lullaby •, lulla, Mia, lullaby : Never harm, nor [fell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh -> So good night j with lullaby. 2 Fairy. Weaving fpiders come not here ; Hence, you long-leg' d fpinners, hence : Beetles black, approach not near, Jform, nor [nail, do no offence. Philomel with melody, &c. i Fairy. Hence, away ; now all is well : One. aloof, ftand Centinel -/. ^ [Exeunt Fairies, the Queen fleeps* Enter Oberon. Ob. What thou feeft, when thou doft wake, Do it for thy true love take > Love and languifli for his fake 5 Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, Pard, or boar with briftled hair, In thy eye that fhall appear, When thou wak'ft, it is thy dear; n, n Wake, when fome vile thing is near. [Exit Obeion. Enter Lyfander and Hermia. Lif. Fair love, you faint with wandring in the wood -, And, to fpeak troth, I have forgot our way : We'll reft us, Hermia, if you think it good, And tarry for the comfort of the day. Her Be't fo, Lyfander •, find you out a bed, For I upon this bank will reft my head. Lyf. One turf fhall ferve as pillow for us both, One heart, one bed, two bofoms, and one troth. A Midfummer-Nighi 's Dream, i o i Her. Nay, good Lyfander > for my fake, my dear, Lye further off yet, do not lye fo near. Lyf O take the fenfe, fweet, of my conference) (u) Love takes the meaning, in love's innocence j I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit j So that but one heart can you make of it : Two bofoms, interchained with an oath j So then two bofoms, and a fingle troth : Then, by your fide no bed-room me deny; For lying fo, Hermia^ I do not lye. Her. Lyfander riddles very prettily; Now much befhrew my manners, and my pride, If Hermia meant to fay, Lyfander ly'd. But, gentle friend, for love and curtefie Lye further off; in human modefty, Such feparation, as, may well be faid, Becomes a virtuous batchelor and a maid 5 j So far be diftant; and good night, fweet friend; Thy love ne'er alter, 'till thy fweet life end ! Lyf Amen, amen, to thaj; fair prayer, fay I; And then end life, when I end loyalty! Here is my bed -9 fleep give thee all his reft ! Her. With half that wifh, the wilher's eyes be preft ! [tbeyjkejp. Enter Puck. Pu-ck. Through the foreft have I gone. But Athenian found I none, (12) O take the Senfe, Sweet, of my Innocence > Louin. Pat, pat ; and here's a marvellous con- venient place for our rehearfal. This gree plot (hall be our flage, this hauthorn-brake our tyrin houfe, and we will do. it in action, as we will do it be fore the Duke. Eot A A Midfumtner-Nighfs Dream. 1 o 5 Bot. Peter Quince* Ghtin. What fay' ft thou, bully Bottom? Bot. There are things in this comedy of Pyramus and fbisbyt that will never pleafe. Firft, Pyramus muft draw a fword to kill himfelf, which the ladies cannot abide. How anfwer you that ? Snout. By'rlaken, a parlous fear? Star. I believe, we muft leave the killing out, when all is done. Bot. Not a whit, I have a device to make all well * write me a prologue, and let the prologue feem to fay, we will do no harm with our fwords, and that Pyramus is not kill'd indeed -, and for more better aflurance tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus^ but Bottom the weaver j this will put them out of fear. §)um. Well, we will have fuch a prologue, and it {hall be written in eight and fix. Bot. No, make it two more 5 let it be written in eight and eight. Snout. Will not the ladies be afraid of the lion? Star. I fear it, I promife you. Bot. Matters, you ought to confider with your felves; to bring in, God fhield us, a lion among ladies, is a moft dreadful thing 5 for there is not a more fearful wild- fowl than your lion living j and we ought to look to it. Snout. Therefore another prologue muft tell, he is not a lion. Bot. Nay, you muft name his name, and half his face muft be feen through the lion's neck 5 and he himfelf muft fpeak through, faying thus, or to the fame defect* ladies, or fair ladies, I would wiih you, or I would requeft you, or I would intreatyou, not to fear, not to tremble j my life for yours j if you think, I come hi- ther as a lion, it were pity of my life 5 no, I am no fuch thing, I am a man as other men are 5 and there, indeed, let him name his name, and tell them plainly he is Snug the joiner. §uin. Well, it mall be foj but there is two hard things, that is, to bring the moon-light into a cham- ber. i o & A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. berj for, you know, Pyramus and Thisby meet by moon-light. Snug. Doth the moon fhine that night we play our play? Bot. A kalendar, a kalendar ! look in the almanack y find out moon-lliine, find out moon-fhine. Quin. Yes, it doth fhine that night. Bot. Why then may you leave a cafement of the great chamber window, where we play, open^ and the moon may fhine in at the cafement. 6)utn. Ay, or elfe one mult come in with a bufh of thorns and a lanthorn, and fay, he comes to disfigure, or to prefent, the Perfon of moon-fhine. Then there is another thing j we muft have a wall in the great chamber, for Pyramus and Thisby (fays the ftory) did talk through the chink of a wall. Snug. You can never bring if* a wall. What fay you, Bottom ? Bot. Some man or other muft prefent Wall* and let him have fome plafter, or fome lome, or fofne rough- caft about him, to fignify wall: Or let him hold his fingers thus y and through the cranny fhall Pyramus and thisby whifper. 6)uin. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit down every mother's fon, and rehearfe your parts. Py- ramuS) you begin y when you have fpoken yourfpeech, enter into that brake y and fo every one according to his cue. Enter Puck, behind. Puck. What hempen home-fpuns have we fwagger- ing here, So near the cradle of the fairy Queen ? What, a play tow'rd ? PIT be an auditor y An aftor too, perhaps, if I fee caufe. 6>uin. Speak, Pyramus y 'Thisby, ftand forth. Pyr. Thisby, the flower of odious favours fweet. Q)uin. Odours, odours. Pyr:' A Midfummer- Night's Dream. 107 Pyr. Odours, favours fweet. So doth thy breath, my deareft fhisby, dear* But hark, a voice! (lay thou but here a whit-, (r^ And, by and by, I will to thee appear. [Exit. Pyr. Puck. A ftranger Pyramus than e'er plaid here ! [Afide. Thif. Muft I fpeak now ? §)uin. Ay, marry, muft you 5 for you muft under- ftand, he goes but to fee a noife that he heard, and is to come again. fthif. Mo ft radiant Pyramus^ moft lilly- white of hue, Of colour like the red rofe on triumphant bryer, Moft brisky Juvenile^ and eke moft lovely Jew, As true as trueft horfe, that yet would never tire, I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb. §>uin. Ninui* tomb, man 5 why you muft not fpeak that yet: that you anfwer to Pyramus; you fpoak all your part at once, cues and all. Pyramus^ enter 3 your cue is paft $ it is, never tire. Re-enter Bottom, with an dfs-head. Thif. O, as true as trueft horfe, that yet would never tire. Pyr. If I were fair, Thisby^ I were only thine. Quin. O monftrous ! O ftrange ! we are haunted $ P*ay, mafters* fly, mailers* help! [The Clowns exeunt. Puck. I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round, Through bog, through bufh, through brake, through bryer 5 Sometimes a horfe I'll be, fometimes a hound, A hog, a headlefs bear, fo me time a fire, (14) "- "fl^y thou hut here a while;] The Verfes here, 'tis plain, fhould be alternately in Rhyme: huxfvoeet in the Clofe of the firft Line, and while in the third, will not do for this purpofe. The Author, doubt- lefs, gave it; — ft ay thau. hut here a whit ; i. e. a little while : for fa it ligniiies, as alfo any thing of no Price, or Confideration ; a trifle: in which Senfe it is very frequent with our Au= thor. Bottom before in this Scene, fays ; Not a whit; I have a De-vice to make all well; And, in Hamlet ; No, not a whit ; n.ve defy Anbury. And in K. Richard III. Woe, woe, for England ! not a whiter Me. And i o 8 A Midfummer- Night's Dream. And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar and burn, Like horfe, hound, hog, bear, fire at every turn. [Exit. Bot. Why do they run away ? this is a knavery of them to make me afeard. Enter Snowt. Snowt. O Bottom, thou art chang'd* what do I fee on thee? Bot. What do you fee? you fee an afs-head of your own, do you? Enter Quince. G)uin. Blefs thee, Bottom, blefs thee j thou art tranf- lated. [Exit' Bot. I fee their knavery, this is to make an afs of me, to fright me if they could > but I will not ftir from this place, do what they can* I will walk up and down here, anq1 I will fing, that they fhali hear I am not afraid. [Sing. The Oufel cock, fo black of hue, With orange-tawny bill, The throttle with his note fo true, The wren with little quill. Queen. What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed ? [waking. Bot. The finch, thefparrow, and the lark, [Sings. The plain-fong cuckow gray, Whofe note full many a man doth mark, And dares not anfwer, nay. For, indeed, who would fet his wit to fo foolifli a bird? who would give a bird the lye, tho' he cry cuckow never fo ? Queen. I pray thee, gentle mortal, fing again j Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, (if) So is mine eye enthralled to thy fhape j And thy fair virtue's force (perforce) doth move me, On the firft view to fay, to fvvear, I love thee. Bot. (15) Mine Ear is much enamour d of thy note, On the fir Ji View to fay, to fiivear, I love thee'. So is mine eye enthralled to thy Shape, And thy fair Virtue 's force (perforce) doth move me] Thus the Generality A Midfummer- Night's Dream, i 09 Bet- Methinks, miftrefs, you fhould have little rea- fon for that : and jrct, to fay the truth, reafon and love keep little company together now-a-days. The more the p;:v, that fome honed neighbours will not make them friends. Nay, I can gleek upon occafion. Queen. Thou art as wife, as thou art beautiful. Bot. Not fo neither: but if I had wit enough to get cut of this wood, I have enough to ferve mine own turn Queen* Out of this wood do not defire to go, Thou fhalt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. I am a fpirit of no common rates The fummer ftill doth tend upon my ftate, And 1 do love thee j therefore, go with me, I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee 3 And they {hall retch thee jewels from the deep, And fing, while thou on preffed flowers doll flecp : And I will purge thy mortal grofsnefs fo, Thar thou malt like an airy fpirit go. Peafeblofom/ Cobweb 1 Moth! and Muftardfeed ! (16) Enter four Fairies. 1 Fair, Ready. 2 Fair. And I. 3 Fair. And I. 4 Fair. And I, where {hall we go ? Queen. Be kind, and courteous to this gentleman* Hop in his walks, and gambole in his eyes 3 Fee i with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs and mulberries, f the Impreffions have fhuffled, and confufed thefe Verfes, to Jtmoft degree of Obfcurity and Nonfenfe : but I have from one of ' the old S - reduced 'em to Clearnefs and Order : and as, without knowing fuch an Authority for it, Dr. Tbirlby ingenioufly hinted to Me, ; they fhould be placed. (16; Enter Peafebloflbm, Cobweb, Moth, Muftardfeed, and four ;«.] Here the common Editions have been fo t ant as to fplit four Fairies into eight: bnt the old Quarto Imprefilons both came into my Afiiltance to reduce 'em to their right Number. calls ! Xames, and immediately the hir Fames enter ■pan CaU The no A Mtdfummer-Nighfs Dream. The honey-bags fteal from the humble bees, And for night tapers crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes^ To have my love to bed, and to arife : And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes> Nod to him, elves, and do him courteftes. i Fair. Hail, mortal, hail! z Fair. Hail ! ■ 3 Fair, Hail ! — Bot. I cry your worfhip's mercy heartily ; I befeecri, your worfhip's name. Cob. Cobweb. Bot. I fhall defire of you more acquaintance, good mafter Cobweb -, if I cut my finger, I fhall make bold with you. Your name, honeft gentleman? Peafe. Peafeblojfom. Bot. I pray you, commend me to miftrefs Squajh your mother, and to mafter Peafcod your father. Good mafter Peafeblojfom^ I fhall defire of you more acquain- tance too. Your name, I befeech you, Sir? Muf Muftardfeed. Bot. Good mafter Muftardfeed, I know your patience well : that fame cowardly giant-like Ox-beef hath de- vour'd many a gentleman of your houfe. I promife you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I defire more of your acquaintance, good mafter Muf tardfeed. ghieen. Come, wait upon him, lead him to my bower. The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye, And when {he weeps, weep ev'ry little flower, Lamenting fome enforced chaftity ! Tie up my love's tongue, bring him filently. [ExeunK Enter King of Fairies. Ob. I wonder, if fitania be awak'd : Then what it was that next came in her eye, Which fhc muft doat on in extremity. Enter A Midfummer-Nights Dream. 1 1 1 Enter Puck. Here comes my meflenger ! how now, mad fprite, What night-rule now about this haunted grove ? Puck. My miftrefs with a monfter is in love. Near to her clofe and confecrated bower, While fhe was in her dull and fleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, That work for bread upon Athenian flails, Were met together to rehearfe a play, Intended for great The feus'* nuptial day. The fhallow'ft thick-skin of that barren fort, Who Pyramus prefented, in their fport Forfook his fcene, and enter'd in a brake* When I did him at this advantage take, An Afs's nole I fixed on his head> Anon, his Thisby muft be anfwered. And forth my minnock comes : when they him fpy*. As wild geefe, that the creeping fowler eye, Or ruflet-pated choughs, many in fort, Rifing and cawing at the gun's report, Sever themfelves, and madly fweep the sky -, So, at his fight, away his fellows fly j And, at our ftamp, here o'er and o'er one falls j He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. Their fenfc thus weak, loft with their fears thus ftrong, Made fenfelefs things begin to do them wrong. For briars and thorns at their apparel fnatch, Some fleeves, fome hats 5 fromyieiders all things catch. I led them on in this diftrafted fear, And left fweet Pyramus tranflated there : When in that moment (fo it came to pafs) Titania wak'd, and ftraitway lov'd an afs. Ob. This falls out better, than I could devife. But haft thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do ? Puck. I took him fleeping 5 that is finifh'd tooj And the Athenian woman by his fide, That, when he wakes, of force fhe muft be ey5d. Entet in A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. \ - Enter Demetrius and Hermia. Ob. Stand clofe, this is the fame Athenian. Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man. Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you fo? Lay breath fo bitter on your bitter foe. Her. Now I but chide, but I fhould ufe thee worfe* For thou, I fear, haft giv'n me caufe to curfe : If thou haft flain Lyfander in his fleep, Being o'er fhoes in blood, plunge in the deep* And kill me too. The fun was not fo true unto the day, As he to me. Would he have ftol'n away From fleeping Hermia? I'll belieye asfoon, This whole earth may be bor'd, and that the moon May through the center creep, and fo difpleafe Her brother's noon-tide with th' Antipodes. It cannot be, but thou haft murther'd him 5 So fhould a murtherer look, fo dread, fo grim. Dem. So fhould the murther'd look •, and fo fhould fy Pierc'd through the heart with your ftern cruelty : Yet you the murtherer look as bright, and clear, As yonder Venus in her glimm'ring fphere. Her. What's this to my Lyfander ? where is he ? Ah, good Demetrius^ wilt thou give him me ? Dem. Pad rather give his carcafs to my hounds. Her. Out, dog ! out, cur ! thou driv'ft me paft thd bounds Of maiden's patience. Haft thou flain him then ? Henceforth be never number'd among men. 0 ! once tell true, and even for my fake, Durft thou have look'd upon him, being awake? And haft thou kill'd him fleeping ? O brave touch ! Could not a worm, an adder do fo much ? An adder did it, for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou ferpent, never adder ftung. Dem. You fpend your paflion on a mifpris'd mood -, 1 am not guilty of Lyfander's blood, JSFor is he dead, for ought that I can tell. Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well. Dem. A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream, i f j t)em. And if I could, what fhould I get therefore? Her. A privilege never to fee me more % And from thy hated prefence part I fo : See me no more, whether he's dead or no. \Exit. Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein, Here, therefore^ for a while I will remain : So for row's heavinefs doth heavier grow, For debt, that bankrupt fleep doth forrow owe> Which now in fome flight meafure it will pay, If for his Tender here I make fom flay. {Lies down* Ob. What haft thou done ? thou haft miftaken quite, And laid thy love-juice on fome true love's fight : Of thy mifprifion muft perforce enfue Some true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true. Puck, Then fate o'er-rules, that one man holding troth A million fail, confounding oath on oath. Ob. About the wood go fwifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens, fee, thou find. All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer* With fighs of love, that cofts the frefh blood dear By fome illufion, fee, thou bring her here j I'll charm his eyes, againft fhe doth appear. Puck. I go, I go* look, how I go* Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [Exit Ob. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye ! When his love he doth ef^y, Let her fhine as glorioufly As the Venus of the sky. When thou wak'ft, if fhe be by* Beg of her for remedy. Enter Puck. Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand, And the youth, miftook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant fee? Lord, what fools thefe mortals be! Yo l I. I Ok i t 4 A Midfumrner-Nighfs Dream. Ob. Stand afide : the noife, they make, Will caufe Demetrius to awake. Puck Then will two at once woo one* That muft needs be fport alone. And thofe things do beft pleafe me, That befal prepohVroufly. Enter Lyfander and Helena. Lyf. Why fhould you think, that I ihould woo in fcorn? Scorn and derifion never come in tears. Look, when i vow, I weep •, and vows fo born, In their nativity all truth appears: How can thefe things in me Teem fcorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true? Bel. You do advance your cunning more and more> When truth kills truth, O devilifh, holy, fray ! Thefe vows are Hermit? s : will you give her o'er? Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh > Your vows to her and me, put in two fcales, Will even weigh, and both as light as tales. Lyf I had no judgment, when to her I fwore. Bel Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er, Lyf. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. Bern, {awaking] O Helen, goddefs, nymph, perfect, divine, To what, my love, ihall I compare thine eyne? Cryftal is muddy 5 O how ripe in ihow Thy lips, thofe luffing cherries, tempting grow ! That pure congealed white, high Taurus' fnow, Fann'd with the eaflern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold'fl up thy hand. O let me kifs This Princefs of pure white, this feal of blifs. Bel. O ipight, O hell ! 1 fee, you all are bent To fet againit me, for your merriment : If you were civil, and knew courtefie, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, ^ Bui \ou mud join in fouls to mock me too? Jfr you are men, as men you are in ihow, You would not ufe a gentle hdy fo : To A Midfttmmer-Nighfs Dream. 1 1 5 To vow and fwear, and fuper-praife my parts 5 When, I am fure, you hate mc with your hearts. You both are rivals, and love Hermia^ And now both rivals to mock Helena. A trim exploit, a manly enterprize, (17) To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes With your derifion ! none of noble fort Would fo offend a virgin, and extort A poor foul's patience, all to make you fport. Lyf You are unkind, Demetrius; be not fo j For ^you love Hermia j this, you know, I know. And here with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia 's love I yield you up my part* And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do to my death. Hel. Never did mockers wafte more idle breathe Dem. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia, I will nones If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. My heart to her but, as gueft-wife, fojourn'd* And now to Helen it is home return'd, There ever to remain. Lyf It is not fo. Dem. Difparage not the faith, thou dofi: not know, Left to thy peril thou abide it dear. Look, where thy love comes, yonder is thy dear. Enter Hermia/ Her. Dark night, that from the eye his fundion takes, The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes: Wherein it doth impair the feeing fenfe, It pays the hearing double recompence. Thou art not by mine eye, Lyfander^ found * Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy found. But why unkindly didft thou leave me fo ? Lyf. W hy fhould he ftay, whom love doth prefs to go ? (17) A trim Exploit , a manly Enterprise,] This Reproach, in the Form of it, feem3 extreamly to have the Caft of That, in the ift ALneid \ Egregiam 'verb Laudem, IS fpolta ampla refertis, Una dolo Divum, &c, I * Her. 1 1 6 A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Her. What love could prefs Ly fancier from my fide? Lyf. Lyfander's love, that would not let him bide, Fair Helena -> who more engilds the night, Than all yon fiery O's and eyes of light. Why feek'ft thou me? could not this make thee know, The hate, I bear thee, made me leave thee fo ? Her. You fpeak not, as you think : it cannot be. Hel. Lo, ihe is one of this confed'racy j Now, I perceive, they have conjoin'd all three, To fafhion this falfe fport in fpight of me. Injurious Hermia^ moft ungrateful maid, Have you confpir'd, have you with thefe contrived To bait me with this foul derifion ? .-, Is all the counfel that we two have fliar'd, The fillers vows, the hours that we have fpent, When we have chid the hafty-footed time For parting us j O ! and is all forgot ? All fchool-days friendmip, childhood innocence? We, Hermia^ like two artificial gods, Created with our needles both one flower, Both on one fampler, fitting on one cufhion* Both warbling of one fong, both in one key 5 As if our hands, our fides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, feeming parted, But yet art union in partition j Two lovely berries molded on one ftem, So with two feeming bodies, but one heart ; Two of the firft, like coats in heraldry, (18) Due but to one, and crowned with one creft. And will you rend our ancient love afunder, To join with men in fcorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly $ Our fex, as well as I, may chide you for it j Though I alone do feel the injury. (i&) Two of the firft Life, coats in Heraldry, Due but to One, and cronxned with one Creft .} The true Cor- rection of this Paflage I owe to the Friendfhip and Communication of the ingenious Martin ' Folks, Efq; Two of the firft, fecond, &c. are Terms peculiar in Heraldry to diitinguilh the different Quarterings of Cfiat/. Htr. A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. i 1 7 Her. I am amazed at your pafllonate words : I (corn you not > it feems, that you fcorn me. Hel. Have you not fet Lyfander, as in fcorn, To follow me, and praife my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius^ (Who, even but now, did fpurn me with his foot)* To call me goddefs, nymph, divine, and rare, Precious, celeftiai? wherefore fpeaks he this, To her he hates ? and wherefore doth Lyfandett Deny your love, fo rich within his foul, And tender me, forfooth, affection* But by your fetting on, by your confent ? What though 1 be not fo in grace as you, So hung upon with love, fo fortunate j But miferable moft, to lave unlov'd ? This you fhould pity, rather than defpife. Her. I underftand not what you mean by this. HeL Ay, do, perfever, counterfeit fad looks, Make mouths upon me, when I turn my backj Wink each at other, hold the fweet jeft up : This fport, well carried, ftiall be chronicled. If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me fuch an argument: But fare ye well, 'tis partly mine own fault, Which death or ab fence foon fhall remedy. Lyf. Stay, gentle Helena 5 hear my excufej My love, my life, my foul, fair Helena. HeL O excellent ! < Her. Sweet, do not fcorn her fo. Bern. If {he cannot entreat, I can compel. Lyf. Thou can ft compel, no more than ihe entreat r Thy threats have no more flrength, than her weak Prayers. (19) (19) Thy Threats have no more Strength than her weak Praife.] This Line is certainly but an Enlargement upon, or rather a Variation m Terms of the Senfe of the preceding Line. But, in That, there is a defign'd Anttthejis betwixt compel and entreat : this Contrail of Terms is wanting, in Threats and Praife: wherefore We need make no Diffi- culty of fubftitnting Prayers. Indeed, my Sufpicion is, the Poet might have coin'd a Subftantive plural, (from the verb, to pray) Prays ; i. e. Prayings, Entreaties, B efeechings ; and the Identity of Sound might give Birth to the Corruption of it into praife. But I have choien the known and familiar Word. I 3 1 1 8 A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Helen^ I love thee ; by my life, I do; I fwear, by that which 1 will lofe for thee, To prove him falfe, that fays, I love thee not. Dem. I fay, I love thee more than he can do. Lyf- If thou fay fo, withdraw and prove it too. Dem. Quick, come. — .- Her. Lyfander% whereto tends all this? Lyf. Away, you Ethiopel Dem. No, no, hell feem To break away ; take on as he would follow, But yet come not ; you are a tame man, go. Lyf. Hangoff, thou cat, thou burr ; vile thing, let loofe; Or I will fhake thee from me, like a ferpent. Her. .Why are you grown fo rude? what change is this? Sweet love ! Lyf Thy love? out, tawny fart or ^ out; Out, loathed medicine : hated poifon, hence. Her. Do you not jeft ? Hel. Yes, footh, and fo do you. Lyf Demetrius^ I will keep my wor4 with thee. Dem^ I would, I had your bond; for, I perceive, A weak bond holds you ; I'll not truft your word. Lyf What, fhould I hurt her, ftrike her, kill her dead ? Although I hate her, I'll not harm her fo. Her. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate? Hate me ! wherefore ? O me ! what news, my love ? Am not I Hermia ? are not you Lyfander ? I am as fair now, as I was ere- while. Since night, you lov'd me ; yet, fince night, you left me ; Why then you left me — (O the gods forbid !) In earneft, fhall I fay ? Lyf. Ay, by my life; And never did defire to fee thee more. Therefore be out of hope, of queftion, doubt \ Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jeft y That I do hate thee, and love Helena. Her. O me, you jugler; oh, you cankcr-blofTom, You thief of love; what, have y6u come by night, And ftoll'n my love's heart from him ? Hel Fine, i-faith ! Have A Miclfummer-Nighfs Dream. 1 1 p Have you no modefty, no maiden fhame, No touch of bafhfulnefs ? what, will you tear Impatient anfwers from my gentle tongue ? Fie, fie, you counterfeit * you puppet, you. Her. Puppet! why, fo : ay, that way goes the game. Now, I perceive, that {he hath made compare Between our itatures j fhe hath urg'd her height j And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage, Her height, forfooth, fhe hath prevail'd with hirn. And are you grown fo high in his efteem, Becaufe I am fo dwarfifh and fo low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? fpeak, How low am I ? I am not yet fo low, But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. - Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen. Let her not hurt me : I was never curfi j 1 have no gift at all in fhrewifhnefs j I am a right maid, for my cowardice : Let her not ftrike me. You, perhaps, may think, Becaufe {he's fomething lower than my felf, That I can match her. Her. Lower! hark, again. ■ Hel. Good Herrnia, do not be fo bitter with me j I evermore did love you, Hermia^ Did ever. keep your counfels, never wrong'd you* Save that, in love unto Demetrius^ I told him of your fteaith unto this wood : He follow'd you, for love I followed him, But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me To ftrike me, fpurn me, nay to kill me tooj And now, fo you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I bear my folly back, And follow you no further. Let me go. You fee, how Mm pie and how fond I am. Her. Why, get you gone* who is't, that hinders you I Hel. A foolifh heart, that I leave here behind. Her. What, with Lyfander ? Hel. With Demetrius. Lyf. Be not afraid, me mall not harm thee, Helena. Dim* No, Sir, fhe fliallnot, though you take her part. , I 4 no A Midfutnmer-Nighfs Dream. HeL O, when (he's angry, fhe is keen and fhrewd $ She was a vixen, when fhe went to fchoolj And though fhe be but little, fhe is fierce. Her. Little, again? nothing but low, and little? Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus? JLet me come to her. Lyf. Get you gone, you dwarf, You Minimus^ of hind'ring knot-grafs made, (20) You bead, you a:orn. Dent. You are too officious, In her behalf that fcorns your fervices. Let her alone, fpeak not of Helena, Take not her part : for if thou dofl intend Never fo little fhew of love to her, Thou fhalt aby it. Lyf. Now the holds me not 5 Now follow, if thou dar'ftj to try whofe right, Or thine, or mine, is moft in Helena. Hem- Follow? nay, I'll go with thee cheek by jowl. \Exeunt Lyfander and Demetrius; Her. You, miftrefs, all this coyl is long of you : Nay, go not back. He{. I will not truft you, 1 5 "Nor longer flay in your curft company. Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray* My legs are longer, though, to run away-. [_Exeunt : Herm. purfuing Helena* Enter Qberon and Puck. Oh. This is thy negligence : ftill thou miftak'ft, Qr elfe commitp'ft thy knaveries willingly. (20) You Minimus, — — ] This is no Term of Art, that I can find ; and I can fcarce be willing to think, that Shakefpeare would ufe the Mafculine of an Adjective to a Woman,. He was not fo deficient in Grammar. I have notventur'd to diflurb the Text] but the Author, perhaps, might have wrote ; You) Minim, yau, m 1. e. You Diminutive of the Creation, you Reptile. In this Senfe, to ufe a more recent Authority, Milton ufes the Word 1X1 the 7th Book of Paradife Loft. Thefe as a Line their long Dimenfion drew, Streaking the Ground At whofe approach, ghofts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards 3 damned fpirits all, That in crofs-ways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone \ for fpar left day fhould look their iharaes upon, They lit A Midfumrner-Nighfs Dream. They willfully exile themfelves from light; And muft for aye confort with black-brow'd night. Ob. But we are fpirits of another fort; I with the morning* tight have oft made fport ; And, like a forefter,* the groves may tread, Ev'n 'till the eaftern gate, all fiery red, Opening on Neptune with fair blefTed beams, Turns into yellow gold his fait green ftreams. But, notwithstanding, hafte ; make no delay ; We may effe£fc this bufinefs yet ere day. [Exit Oberon. Puck. Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down: I am fear'd in field and town. Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one. Enter Lyfander. Lyf Where art thou, proud Demetrius ? fpeak tho*- now. Puck. Here, villain, drawn and ready. Where art thou? Lyf I will be with thee ftraight. Puck. Follow me then To plainer ground. [Lyf. goes out, as following Dem. Enter Demetrius. Bern. Lyfander^ fpeak again ; Thou run-away, thou coward, art thou fled ? Speak in fome bum : where doft thou hide thy head ? Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ftars, Telling the bufhes that thou look'ft for wars, And wilt not come? come, recreant; come, thouchildi I'U whip thee with a rod ; he is defil'd. That draws a fword on thee. Dem. Yea, art thou there ? Puck. Follow my voice, we'll try no manhood here. [Exeunt. Lyfander comes back. Lyf He goes before me, and ftill dares me on ; When I come where he calls me, then he's gone. The A Midfurnmer-Nighfs Dream. 1*3 The villain is much lighter-heel'd, than I : I follow'd faft, but falter he did fly ; That fall'n am I in dark uneven way, And here will reft me. Come, thou gentle day: [Lyes down. For if but once thou fhew me thy gray light, I'll find Demetrius^ and revenge this fpight. Enter Puck and Demetrius. Puck. Ho, ho, ho, coward, why com'ft thou not? Dem. Abide me, if thou dar'ft : for well I wot, Thou runn'ft before me, fnifting every place 5 And dar'ft not (land, nor look me in the face, Where art thou? Puck. Come thou hither, I am here. Dem. Nay, then thou mock'ft me 5 thou {halt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by day-light fee. Now, go thy way 5 faintnefs conftraineth me To meafure out my length on this cold bed. By day's approach look to be vifited. {Lyes down. Enter Helena. Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours $ mine, comforts, from the Eaft \ That I may back to Athens by day-light, From thefe, that my poor company detefl: j And deep, that fometimes (huts up forrow's eye, Steal me a while from mine own company. [Sleeps* Puck. Yet but three? come one more, Two of both kinds make up four. Here fhe comes, curft and fad : Cupid is a knavifh lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Enter Hermia. Her. Never fo weary, never fo in woe, Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briars, J can no further crawl, no further go > My legs can keep no pace with my defires: Here 124 d Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Here will I reft me, 'till the break of day. Heav'ns fhieldLj[/tf#^r,iftheymeanafray ! [Lyes down. Puck. On the ground, fleep found, I'll apply, to your eye, gentle lover, remedy. {Squeezing the juice on LyfandcrV eye* When thou wak'ft, thou tak'ft True delight, in the fight, of thy former lady's eye* And the country proverb known, That every man lhould take his own, In your waking fhall be iliown. Jack fhall have Jill, naught fhall go ill, The man fhall have his mare again, and all be well. lExit Puck. [They Jleep A C T IV. SCENE, continued, the Wood. Enter Queen of Fairies* Bottom, Fairies attending, and the King behind them. Q^U E E N. COME, fit thee down upon this flow'ry bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And ftick musk-rofes in thy (leek, fmooth'd head j And kifs thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. Bot. Where's Peafeblojfom? Peafe. Ready. Bot. Scratch my head, Peafeblojfom* Where?s mon- fieur Cobweb ? Cob. Ready. Bot. Monfieur Cobweb, good monfieur, get your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipt humble- bee on the top of a thirties and, good monfieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret your felf too much in A Mtdfummer- Night's Dream. 115 in the a£Hon, monfieur -, and, good monfieur, have a care, the honey-bag break not 5 I fhould be loth to have you over-flown with a honey-bag, fignior. Where's monfieur Muftardfeed ? Muft. Ready. Bot. Give me thy neafe, monfieur Muftardfeed \ pray you, leave your curtefie, good monfieur. Muft. What's your will ? Bot. Nothing, good monfieur, but to help Cavaler* Cobweb to fcratch. I muft to the barber's, monfieur j for, methinks, I am marvellous hairy about the face. And I am fuch a tender afs, if my hair doth but tickle me, I muft fcratch. Queen. What, wilt thou hear fome mufick, my fweet love ? Bot. I have a reafonable good ear in mufick j let u? have the tongs and the bones. Rural Mufick: Tongs, &c. Queen. Or fay, fweet love, what thou defir'ft to eat. Bot. Truly, a peck of provender j I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks, I have a great defirc to a bottle of hay : good hay, fweet hay hath no fellow. Queen. I have a venturous Fairy that (hall feck the fquirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new nuts- Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peafe. But, I pray you, let none of your people ftir me 5 I have an expofition of fleep come upon me. Queen. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms 5 Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away : (11) So doth the woodbine, the fweet honey-fuckle, (zi) Gently {21] and be always anvay!] What ! was She giving her Atten- dants an everlafting Difmiffion ? No fuch Thing ; they were to be ftill upon Duty. I am convinced, the Poet meant ; — — — — — and be all ways away. i. e. difperfe your felves, and fcout out feverally, in your Watch, that Danger approach us from no Quarter. (22) So doth the Woodbine the fweet Honey-fuckle Gently entwijl ; the female ivy fi M firing*- 12,6 A Midfummer- Night's Dream. Gently entwift the Maple $ ivy fo Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm. O, howl love thee ! how I doat on thee! Enter Puck. Ob. Welcome, good Robin j Seeft thou this fwcet fight ? Her dotage now I do begin to pity $ For, meeting her of late behind the wood, Seeking fweet favours for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her, and fall out with her j For flie his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of frefh and fragrant flowers $ Attd that fame dew, which fometime on the buds Was wont to fwell, like round and orient pearls ; Stood now within the pretty flouriet's eyes, Like tears that did their own difgrace bewail. When I had at my pleafure taunted her, And flie in mild terms begg'd my patience, I then did ask of her her changeling child, Which ftrait fhe gave me, and her Fairy fent To bear him to my bower in Fairy- land. And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes : And, gentle Puck, take this transformed fcalp From off the head of this Athenian fwain j That he, awaking, when the others do, May all to Athens- back again repair j And think no more of this night's accidents, But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But, firft, I will releafe the Fairy Queen j Be^ as thou waft wont to be $ See, as thou waft wont to fee : Enrings the barky Fingers of the Elm.] What does the Woodbine entwift ? Why, the Honeyfuckk. Bat ever till now the Honeyfuckle and the Woodbine were but two Names for the fame Plant. But We have now found a Support for the Woodbine, as well as for the Ivy. The Corruption might happen thus; the firft Blunderer in writing might leave the p out of Maple, and make it Male ; upon which the acute Editors turn'd it into Female, and tack'd it as an Epithet to I Seem'd all one mutual cry. I never heard So mufical a difcord, fuch fweet thunder. thef. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, fo fanded, and their heads are hung With ears that fweep away the morning dew 5 Crook-knee'd, and dew-lap'd, like TTjejfalian bulls j Slow in purfuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never hallo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Creet, in Sparta, nor in fhejfaly : Judge, when you hear. Butfoft, what nymphs are thefe? Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here afleep, And this Lyfander, this Demetrius is, This Helena, old Nedar's Helena j I wonder at their being here together. 5Thef. No doubt, they rofe up early to obferve The Rite of May \ and hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our folemnity. But fpeak, Egeus, is not this the day, That Hermia fliouid give anfwer of her choice? Ege. It is, my lord. Thef. Go bid the huntfmen wake them with their horns. proceeds than from fountains : but as we have the Authority of the An- tients for Lakes, Rivers, and Fountains returning a Sound, I have been diffident to difturb the Text. To give a few Inftances, that occur, at prefent. Ovid Metam. 1, 3. ver. 500. Ultima Vox folitam fuit bate SpeBantis in undamt " Heufrujira dilefte puer 1 " totidemq; rermfit Verba lacus. For fo Burmann has corrected it : the common Editions have locus* Virgil JEneid: 12. verf. 886, Turn Saint Valentine is paft : Begin thefe wood-birds but to couple now? Lyf. Pardon, ray lord. Thef I pray you all, ftand up : I know, you two are rival enemies. How comes this gentle concord in the world* That hatred is fo far from jealoufie, To fleep by hate, and fear no enmity? Lyf. My lord, I fhall reply amazedly, Half fleep, half waking. But as yet, I fwear, I cannot truly lay how I came here : But as I think, (for truly would I fpeak,) And now I do bethink me, fo it is 5 I came with Hermia hither. Our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might be Without the peril of th' Athenian law. Ege. Enough, enough •> my lord, you have enough > I beg the law, the law upon his head : They would have ftoll'n away, they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me $ You, of your wife $ and me, of my confent $ Of my confent, that fhe lliould be your wife. Dem* My lord, fair Helen told me of their ftealth, Of this their purpofe hither to this wood > And I in fury hither follow'd them > Fair Helena in fancy following me: But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, But by fome power it is, my love to Hermia Is melted as the fnow -y feems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gaude, Which in my childhood I did doat upon: And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object and the pleafure of mine eye, Is only Helena. To her, my lord, Was I betrothed ere I Hermia faw -, But like a ficknefs did I loath this food $ Bur, A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. i 3 1 But, as in health come to my natural tafte, Now do I wifh it, love it, long for it* And will for evermore be true to it. The/. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met* Of this difcourfe we fhall hear more anon. Egeus, I will over-bear your will j For in the temple, by and by with us, Thefe couples fhall eternally be knit $ And for the morning now is fomething worn, Our purpos'd hunting fhall be fet afide. Away, with us to Athens $ three and three, We'll hold a feaft in great folemnity. Come, Hippolita. [_Exe. Duke^ Hippol. and Train. Dein. Thefe things feem frnall and undiftinguifhable, ike far-off mountains turned into clouds. Her. Methinks, I fee thefe things with parted eyej When every thing feems double. Hel. So, methinks $ And I have found Demetrius like a Gemell, (2,7) Mine (27) And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.] Hermia had faid, Things a"p f>ear'd double to her. Helena fays, So, methinks; and then fubjoins, Demetrius was like a Jewel, her own and not her own, According to common Senfe and Construction, Demetrius is here compar'd to fomething that has the Property of appearing the fame, and yet not being the fame : and this was a Thought natural enough, upon her declaring her Ap- probation of what Hermia had faid, that every thing feems double. Bat now, how has a Jewel, or any precious Thing* the Property, rather than a more worthlefs one, of appearing to be the fame and yet not the iame ? This, I believe, won't be eafily found out. I make no doubt therefore, but the true Reading is ; And I have found Demetrius like a Gemell> Mine own, and not mine own. from Gemellus, a. Twin. For Demetrius acted that Night two fuch dif-> ferent Parts, that me could hardly think him one and the fame Deme- trius : but that there were two Twin- Demetri us' s to the acting this Farce, like the two Soda's. This makes good and pertinent Senfe of the Whole ; and the Corruption from Gemell to Jewel was fo eafy from the fimilar Trace of the Letters, and the Difficulty of the TranfcrU bers understanding the true Word, that, I think, it is net to be quefti- on'd. Mr. Warburton. If fome over-nice Spirits mould object to Gemell wanting its Authori* ties as an Englijh Word, I think fit to obferve, in Aid of my Friend's iine Conjecture, that it is no new Thing with Shakefpeare \p coin and K z enfran- 1 3 1 A Midfammer- Nights Dream. Mine own, and not mine own. Dem. It feems to me, That yet we fleep, we dream. Do not you think, The Duke was here, and bid us follow him? Her. Yea, and my father. Hel. And Hippolita. Lyf. And he did bid us follow to the temple. Dem. Why then, we are awake } let's follow him 5 And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. {Exeunt. As they go out^ Bottom wakes. Bot. When my cue comes, call me, and I will an- fwer. My next is, Moll fair Pyramus — hey, ho, — Peter Quince^ Flute the bellows-mender! Snowt the tinker ! Starveling ! god's my life ! floll'n hence, and left me afleep ? I have had a mod rare virion. I had a dream, paft the wit of man to fay what dream it was : man is but an afs, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was, there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had,— But man is but a patch'd fool, if he will offer to fay what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not feen 5 man's hand is not able to tafte, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream ; it fhall be call'd Bottom's Dream^ becaufe it hath no bottom j and I will fing it in the latter end of a play before the enfranchize Words fairly deriv'd ; and fome fuch as have by the Gram- marians been call'd &-*■&% Ka.yo/ufaJtr, or Words ufed but once. Again, tho' Gemell be not adopted either by Chaucer, or Spenfer ; nor acknow- ledg'd by the Dictionaries; yet both Blount in his Glojfography, and Philips in his World of Words have Geminels, which they interpret Twins. And laftly, in two or three other Paffages, Shakefpeare ufes the fame Manner of Thought. In the Comedy of Errors, where Adriana fees her Husband and his Twin-brother, fhe fays ; I fee two Husbands, or my Eyes deceive me. One of them, therefore, feemd to be her own, but was not. And in his Twelfth -nighty when Viola and Sebaftian, who were Twins, appear toge- ther, they bear fo ltrift a Refemblance, that the Duke cries ; One Face, otrr Voice, one Habit, and two Perfons > A nafral Perfpeclivc, that is, and is not. . Duke: A Midfumwer-Nighfs Dream. 13 5 Duke ; (z8) peradventure, to make it the more graci- ous, I fhall ling it after Death. [Exit* SCENE changes to the Town. Enter Quince, Flute, Snowt, and Starveling. Quin. T T Ave you fent to Bottom's houfe ? is he come JT1 home yet? Star. He cannot be heard o£ Out of doubt, he is tranfported. Flute, If he come not, then the play is marr'd. It goes not forward, doth it ? §)uin. it is not poffiblej you have not a man, in all Athens^ able to difcharge Pyramus^ but he. Flute. No, he hath fimply the beft wit of any han«> dy-craft man in Athens. Quin. Yea, and the bed perfon too j and he is a very paramour for a fweet voice. Flute. You muft fay, paragon j (ip) a paramour is (God blefs us ! ) a thing of naught. Enter Snug. Snug. Matters, the Duke is coming from the tem- ple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more (28) Peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I fhall Jing it at her Death."] At her Death ? At nvhefe ? In all Bottom^ Speech there is not the lealt mention of any She- Creature, to whom this Relative can be coupled. I make not the leafl Scruple, but Bottom, for the fake of a Jeft, and to render his Voluntary, as we may call it, the more graci- ous and extraordinary, faid; — Ifhallfingit after Death. He, as Pyra- musy is kill'd upon the Scene ; and fo might promife to rife again at the Conclufion of the Interlude, and give the Duke his Dream by way of Song.. -The Source of the Corruption of the Text is very obvi- ous. The/* in after being funk by the vulgar Pronunciation, the Co- pyift might write it from the Sound, alter : which the wife Edi- tors not underftanding, concluded, two Words were erroneoufly got to- gether ; fo fplitting them, and clapping in an h, produced the prefent Reading — at her. [29] A Paramour is (god blefs us) a thing of nought.] This is a Reading, I am fure, of Nought. My Change of a fingle Letter gives a very important Change to the Humour of the Paffage. A Thing of naught, means, a naughty Thing, little better than downright Banvdry. So, in Hamlet , Opheliaf when He talks a little grofsly to her, replies; You re naught, you re naught, my Lord ; &c. K j married $ 134 d Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. married y if our fport had gone forward, we had all been made men. Flute. O fweet bully Bottom! thus hath he loft fix- pence a-day during his life *, he could not have 'fcap'd fix-pence a-day $ an the Duke had not given him fix^ pence a-day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd ; he would have deferv'd it. Six-pence a-day, in Pyramusy or nothing. Enter Bottom. Bot. Where are thefe lads ? where are thefe hearts ? Q)uin. Bottom/ — O moil courageous day! O moft happy hour ! Bot. Mailers, I am to difcourfe wonders \ but ask me not what-, for if 1 tell you, I am no true Athenian.' I will tell you every thing as it fell out, Ghtw. Let us hear, fweet Bottom.' Bot. Not a word of me 5 all I will tell you, is, that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good firings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps j meet prefently at the palace, every man look o'er his part 5 for the lliort and the long is, (30) our play is preferred: in any cafe, let 'Thisbyhnvt clean lin- nen * and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for they (hall hang out for the lions claws > and, moil dear -actors ! eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are to utter fweet breath ^ and I do not doubt to hear them fay, it is a fweet comedy. No more words $ away j go, away. i \Exeurit. {30) Our play is preferred ;] This Word is not to be taken in its moft common Acceptation here, as if their Play was choftn in Prefe- rence to the others ; (foF that appears afterwards not to be the Fadfcj) but means, that it was given in, among others, for the Duke's Option; And, in this Senfe, we fay,- — pref&rr a Petition; i.e. give it in, lodge it, for the Judge's Anfwer. So, in J 'ulius C what thefe lovers fpeak I of. JL Thef. More ftrange than true. I never may believe Thefe antick fables, nor thefe Fairy toys 5 Lovers and madmen have fuch feething brains, Such ftiaping fantafies, that apprehend More than cool reafon ever comprehends. The lunatick, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact : One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold $ The madman. While the lover, all as frantick, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rowling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'ni And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to fhape, and gives to aiery nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath ftrong imagination, That if he would but apprehend fome joy, Jt comprehends fome bringer of that joy $ Or in the night imagining fome fear, How eafje is a bufh fuppos'd a bear ? Hip. But all the ftory of thj£ night told over, And all their minds transfigur'd fo together, More witnefleth than fancy's images, And grows to fomething of great conftancy $ But, howfoever, ftrange and admirable. K 4 ¥*M& 1 3 6 A Midfurnmer-Nighfs Dream. Enter Lyfander, Demetrius, Hermia and Helena. thef. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. Joy, gentle friends $ joy and freih days of love Accompany your hearts. Lyf. More than to us, Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed. thef Come now, what masks, what dances fhall we have, To wear away this long age of ihree hours, Between our after-fupper and bed-time? Where is our ufual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand ? is there no play, To eafe the anguifti of a torturing hour? Call Philofirate. Enter Philofirate. Philoft. Here, mighty the feus. thef Say, what abridgment have you for this evening ? What mafque ? what mufick ? how fhall we beguile The lazy time, if not with fome delight ? Philoft. There is a brief, how many fports are ripe: (}i) Make choice of which your Highnefs will fee firft. [Giving a Paper. thef. reads."] the battel with the Centaur s^ to befung (31) By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. (31) ~ — ho*w many Sports are rife :] I have chofen to reftore from one of the old Quarto's printed in 1600, ripe, as the moll proper Word here : ripe, fignifying any thing ready for Uie 1 rifey only the great Increafe of any thing. (5 2} Lyf. The battel with the Centaurs—'] Here the fixteen Lines, that follow, from the Time of the firil Folio Edition put out by the Players, have impertinently been divided, by two Verfes alternately, betwixt Thefeus and Ly fonder. But what has Lyfander to do in the Affair ? He is no Courtier of Thefeus's, but only an occafional Gueft ; and juft come out of the Woods, fo not likely to know what Sports were in Preparation. I have taken the old Quarto's for my Guides, in regulating this Parage. Thefeus asks after Entertainment. Philoftrate, who is his Mailer of the Revels, gives him in a Lift of what Sports are ready : upon which, Thefeus reads the Titles of them out of the Lift, and then alternately makes his Remarks upon them. And this, I dare fay, was the Poet1* pwn Defien and Diftribution. Wf'JJ A Midfummcr- Nights Dream. 1 3 ' We'll none of that. That I have told my love, In glory of my kinfrnan Hercules. The riot of the tipfie Bacchanals, fearing the Thracian finger in iheir rage. That is an old device -9 and it was plaid, When I from Thebes came laft a conqueror. The thrice three Mufes mourning for the death Of learning, late deceased in beggary. That is fome fatyr, keen and critical $ Not forting with a nuptial ceremony. A tedious brief fee ue of young Py ramus, And his love Thisbe \ very tragical mirth. Merry and tragical ? tedious and brief? That is hot Ice, and wondrous ftrangc Snow. How (hall we find the concord of this difcord ? Philoft. A play there is, my lord, fome ten words long 5 Which is as brief, as I have known a play 5 But by ten words, my lord, it is too long $ Which makes it tedious : for in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted. And tragical^ my noble lord, it is : For Pyramus therein doth kill himfelf. Which, when I faw rehears'd, I muft confefe, Made mine eyes water 5 but more merry tears TJie paflion of loud laughter never fhed. Thef. What are they, that do play it? Philoft. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never Jabour'd in their minds 'till now 5 And now have toil'd their unbreath'd memories With this fame play againft your nuptials. ffhef. And we will hear it. Philoft. No, my noble lord, It is not for you. I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world j Unlefs you can find fport in their intents, Extremely ftretch'd and conn'd with cruel pain, To do you fervice. The/. I will hear that play: For never any thing can be amifs, When ? 3 8 A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. When fimplenefs and duty tender it. Go, bring them in, and take your places, ladies. [Exit. Vhil Hip. I love not to fee wretchednefs o'ercharg'd, And duty in his fervice perifhing. The/. Why, gentle fweet, you (hall fee no fuch thing. Hip. He fays, they can do nothing in this kind. T'hef. The kinder we, to give them thanks fornothing0 Our fport fhall be, to take what they miftakej And what poor [willing] duty cannot do, (33) Noble refpe£t takes it in might, not merit. Where I have come, great clerks have purpofed To greet me with premeditated welcomes $ Where I have feen them fhiver and look pale, Make periods in the midft of fentences, Throttle their praftis'd accent in their fears, And, in conclufion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome. Truft me, fweet, Out of this filence yet I pick'd a welcome : And in the modefty of fearful duty I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Of fawcy and audacious eloquence. Love therefore, and tongue-tyM fimplicity, In leaft, fpeak moft, to my capacity. Enter Philoftrate. Phil. So pleafe your Grace, the prologue is addreft. ¥hef. Let him approach. [Flor. Trum* Enter Quince, for the prologue. Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you fhould think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To fliew our fimple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. (33) And nvhat poor duty cannot do, noble Re fpefl, lakes it in Might, not Merit.] What Ears have thefe poetical Editors, to palm this rlril Line upon us as a Verfe of Sbakefpeare? 'Tis certain, an Epithet had flipt out, and I have ventufd to reftore fuch a one as the Senfe may difpenfe with i and which makes the two Verfes flowing and perfect. Confide* A Midfummer-Night's Dream, i $ % Confider then, we come but in defpight. We do not come, as minding to content you, (34) Our true intent is. — all for your delight, We are not here. — that you fhould here repent you, The actors are at hand •, — and by their fhow, You ftiall know all, that you are like to know. fhef. This fellow doth not ftand upon points, Lyf. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt ; he knows not the flop. A good moral, my lord. Ic is not enough tofpeak, but to fpeak true. Hip, Indeed he hath play'd on his prologue, like a child on the recorder 5 a found, but not in govern- ment. Thef His fpecch was like a tangled chain j nothing impair'd, but all diforder'd. Who is the next? Enter Pyramus, and Thisbe, Wall, Moonlhine, and Lion, as in dumb Jhow. Pro. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this fhow, , But Wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know 5 This beauteous lady, Thisbyis9 certain. This man, with lime and rough- caft, doth prefent * Wall, the vile wall, which did thefc lovers funder : And through wall's chink, poor fouls* they are content To whifper, at the which let no man wonder. This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bufli of thorn, Prefenteth Moon-fhine : For, if you will know, 4 By moon- ftiine did thefe lovers think no fcorn To meet at Ninus* tomb, there, there to woo. (34) We do not comb as minding to content you , Our true Intent is all for your Delight, ••• We are not here that you jhould here repent you, TheAftors are at hand \ &c] Thus the late accurate Editor, deviating, from all the Old Copies, has, by a certain peculiar Fatality, pointed this Panage. The whole Glee and Humour of the Prologue is in theA&or's making falfe Refts, and fo turning every Member of the Sentences into flagrant Nonfenfe. And Mr. Pope feems very cruel to our Author, (con- sidering, how many PaiTages, which mould have been pointed right, he kas pointed wrong ;) that here, when he mould point wrong, with a Grange Perverieuejs, and unufual Appetite for Seafe* he will point right. This 140 A Micifummer~Nighf$ Dream. This grifly beaft, which by name Lion hight, (jf) The trufty Thisbe^ coming firft by night, Did fcare away, or rather did affright : And as me fled, her mantle flie let fall j Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did ftain. Anon comes Pyramus^ fweet youth and tall, And finds his trufty cthisbe>s mantle flain j Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breaft. And Thisby, tarrying in the mulberry made, His dagger drew, and died. For all the reft, Let Liony Moon-Jhine, Wall^ and lovers twain, At large difcourfe, while here they do remain. [Exeunt all but W^W. fthef. I wonder, if the Lion be to fpeak. Dem. No wonder, my lord j one Lion may, when many afTes do. IVall. In this fame Interlude, it doth befal, That I, one Snout by name, prefent a Wall : (36) And fuch a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink 5 Through which the lovers, Pyr'mus and fbis-be^ Did whifper often very fecretly. This loam, this rough- caft, and this ftone doth fliew, That I am that fame wall 5 the truth is fo. And this the cranny is, right and finifter, Through which the fearful lovers are to whifper. fthef. Would you defire lime and hair to fpeak better? Dem, It is the wittieft partition, that ever I heard dif- courfe, my lord. fthef. Pyramus draws near the wall : filence ! (35) which Lion hight by name,] As all the other Parts of this Speech are in alternate Rhyme, excepting that it clofes with a Cou- plet', and as no Rhyme is left to, name; we mull conclude, either a Verfe is flipt out, which cannot now be retrieved : or, by a Tranfpofition of the Words, as I have placed them, the Poet intended a Triplet. (36) That I, one Flute by name,] Thus Mr. Pops gives it us, either from the old Quarto's, or by Accident. But Acpident, or Authority, happens to be wrong in it : and we mull reftore, Snout, with the old Fc!io\ i for it appears in the iirlt Aft, that Flute was to perform Tbisbe. Enter A Midfurnmer-Nighfs Dream. 141 Enter Pyramus. Pyr. O grim-look'd night ! O night with hue fo black ! 0 night which ever art, when day is not ! O night, O night, alack, alack, alack, 1 fear, my Thisbe' s promife is forgot. And thou, O wall, O fweet and lovely wall, That ftands between her father's ground and mine j Thou wall, O Wall, O fweet and lovely wall, Shew me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne. Thanks, courteous wall* Jove fhield thee well for this! But what fee I ? no Thisbe do I fee. O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs> Curft be thy ftones for thus deceiving me. The/. The wall, methinks, being fenfible, fhould curfe again. Pyr. No, in truth, Sir, he fhould not. Deceiving me^ is Thisbe' s cue j fhe is to enter, and I am to fpy her through the wall. You fhall fee, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder fhe comes. Enter Thisbe. Thif O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus and me. My cherry lips have often kifs'd thy ftones j Thy ftones with lime and hair knit up in thee. Pyr. I fee a voice 5 now will I to the chink 5 To fpy, an I can hear my Thisbe* % face. Thisbe ! Thif. My love ! thou art, my love, I think. Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace. And like Limander am I trufty ft ill. Thif. And I like Helen^ till the fates me kill. Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was fo true. Thif. As Shafalus to Procrus^ I to you. Pyr. O kifs me through the hole of this vile wall. Thif. I kifs the wall's hole, not your lips at all. Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny's tomb meet me ftraightway ? Thif Tide life, tide death, I come without delay. JVall 142, A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream* Wall. Thus have I Wall my part difcharged fo : And, being done, thus Wall away doth go. [Exit. Thef. Now is the Mural down between the two neigh- bours. Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wil- ful to hear without warning. Hip. This is the fillieft fluff that e'er I heard. fhef. The beft in this kind are but fhadows, and the worft are no worfe if imagination amend them. Hip. It muft be your imagination then, and not theirs. The/. If we imagine no worfe of them than they of themfelves, they may pafs for excellent men. Here come two noble beafts in a moon and a lion. (57) Enter Lion and Moonfhine. Lion. You, ladies, you, whofe gentle hearts do fear The fmalleft monftrous moufe that creeps on floor, May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, When Lion rough in wildeft rage doth roar. Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am No Lion fell, nor elfe no Lion's dam : For if I fliould as Lion come in ftrife Into this place, 'twere pity of my life. fbef. A very gentle beaft, and of a good confcience. Dem. The very beft at a beaft, my lord, that e'er I faw. Lyf. This Lion is a very fox for his valour. fief. True j and a goofe for his difcretion. Dem. Not fo, my lord * for his valour cannot carry his difcretion, and the fox carries the goofe. (37) Here come tnuo noble Beafls in a Man and a Lion.] I don't think the Jell here is either compleat, or right. It is differently pointed in feveraj of the Old Copies, which, I fufpe&, may lead us to the true Reading, cannot carry his va- lour j for the goofe carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his difcretion, and let us hearken to the moon. Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon prefent : Dem. He fhould have worn the horns on his head. tfhef. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invifiblc within the circumference. Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned Moon prefent: My felf the man i'th' moon doth feem to be. fhef. This is the greateft error of all the reft ; the man fhould be put into the lanthorn : how is it elfe the man i'th' moon ? Dem. He dares not come there for the candle 5 for you fee, it is already in fnuff. Hip. I am weary of this moon j would he would change. tfhef. It appears by his fmall light of difcretion, that he is in the wane j but yet in courtefie, in all reafon wc muft flay the time. Lyf* Proceed, Moon. Moon All that I have to lay, is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon ; I the man in the moon 5 this thorn-bufh, my thorn-bufh; and this dog, my dog. Bern. Why, all thefe fhould be in the lanthorn; for they are in the moon. But, filencej here comes Thisby. Enter Thisbe. Thif. This is old Ninntfs tomb j where is my love? Lion. Oh. [the Lion roars, Thisbe runs off. Dem. Well roar'd, Lion, fbef. Well run, thisbe. Hip. Well fhone. Moon. Truly, the Moon fhines with a good grace. fhef. Well mouz'd, Lion. Dem. And then came Pyramus* Lyf. And fo the Lion vanifh'd. Enter 1 44 d Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Enter Pyrarrius. Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy funny beams j I thank thee, Moon, for fhining now fo bright} For by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams, I truft to tafte of trueft Thisbe's fight. But ftay : O fpight ! But mark, poor Knight, What dreadful dole is here? Eyes, do you fee ! How can it be ! O dainty duck ! O deer ! Thy mantle good > What, ftain'd with blood ! Approach, you furies fell : O fates ! come, come : Cut thread and thrum -y Quail, crum, conclude, and quell. Thef. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend Would go near to make a man look fad. Hip. Befhrew my heart, but I pity the man. Pyr. O wherefore, nature, didft thou Lions frame? Since Lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear : Which is no, no -which was the faireftdame, . That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd with cheer. Come tears, confound : out fword, and wound The pap of Pyramus. Ay, that left pap, where heart doth hop : Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, now am I fled, my foul is in the skyj Tongue, lofe thy light: moon, take thy flight -, Now die, die, die, die, die. Dem. No die, but an ace for him ; for he is but one. Lyf. Lefs than an ace, man* for he is dead} he is nothing. fhej. With the help of a Surgeon he might yet re- cover, and prove an afs. Hip. How chance the Moonjhine is gone, before ffiisbe comes back and finds her lover ? Enter A Midfitmmer- Night's Dream. i 4 5 Enter Thisbe. Fhef. She will find him by ftar-light. Here fhe comes j and her paffion ends the fclay. Hip. Methinksj fhe fhould not ufc a long one for fuch a Pyramus: I hope, fhe will be brief. Dem. A moth will turn the ballance, which Pyramus, which Thisby is the better. Lyf She hath fpied him already with thofe fweet eyes. Dem. And thus fhe moans, videlicet.— (j8) Ifhif. Afleep, my love? What dead, my dove ? O PyramuS) arife: Speak, fpeak. Quite dumb ? Dead, dead? a tomb Muft coyer thy fweet eyes. Thefe lilly brows, (32) This cherry nofe, Thefe yellow cowflip cheeksj Are gone, are gone : Lovers, make moan! His eyes were green as leeks, O lifters three, Come, come to me, With hands as pale as milk* Lave them in gore, Since you have fhore With fheers his thread of filk* (3 8) And thusjhe means ] Thus all the Editions have it, I think, without any Meaning. It mould be, thus me moans i I.e. laments over her dead Pyramus. It is faid a little above, And her Paffion ends the Play. (39) Thefe lilly Lips, m cherry Nofe,] All Thisbfs Lamentation, till now, runs in regular Rhyme and Metre. But Both, by Tome Ac- cident, are in this fingle Infiance interrupted. I fufped, the Poet v> rote i Thefe lilfy Brows, This cherry Nofet Now black Brows being a Beauty, lilly Brows are as ridiculous as a cherry Nofe, green Eyes, or co^wflip Cheeks. J Vol. I. L Tongue 1 4 6 A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Tongue, not a word : Come, trufty fword > Come, blade, my breaft imbrue : And farewel, friends, Thus Thisbe ends > Adieu, adieu, adieu. - Thef. Moon-Jhine and Lion are left to bury the dead. Dem. Ay, and Wall too. Bot. No, I aflure you, the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it pleafe you to fee the epilogue, or to hear a bergomask dance, between two of our company ? *thef. No epilogue, I pray you $ for your play needs no excufe. Never excufe 5 for when the players are all dead, there need none to beblam'd. Marry, if he, that writ it, had play'd Pyramus^ and hung himfelf in fthisbe's garter, it would have been a fine tragedy : and fo it is, truly, and very notably difcharg'd. But come, your bergomask j let your epilogue alone. [Here a dance of clowns. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed 5 'tis almoft it1 airy time. I fear, we mail out-fleep the coming morn, As much as we this night have over-watch'd. This palpable grofs Play hath well beguiled The heavy gaite of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this folemnity, In nightly revel and new jollity. [Exeunt. Enter Puck. ; Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon: (40) Whilft the heavy ploughman fnoars, All with weary task fore-done. Now (40) And the Wolf beholds the moon ;] As 'tis the Defign of thefe Lines to characterize the Animals, as they prefent themfelves at the Hour of Midnight; and as the Wolf. is not juftly characterized by fay- ing he beholds the Moon; which all other Beafts of Prey, then awake, do: and as the Sounds thefe Animals make at that Seafon, feem alia not a moufe Shall difturb this hallow'd houfe. I am lent with broom before, To fweep the duft behind the door. Enter King arid Queen of Fairies, with their train. Ob. Through the houfe give glimmering light, By the dead and drowfie fire, alfo intended to be reprefented ; I make no Quefuon but the Poet wrote ; And the Wolfe be howls the Moon. For fo the Wolf is exactly characterize, it being his rez-dar Property to bo---! at the Moon. 1 as bemoan, befeem, betrim, and an hua- dred other; Mr. Warburton. So, again, in As ;:u like it. Pray y:u. ?:: more :fi:::;\ 'tis like the bowling of Irifh Wolves c~ainft the Moon. So in Beaumont and Fl;::h(y:i Faithful Sbepberdefs. ■ or the Omcly Or cur great Enemy, that ftill doth howl Againit. the Moon s pah Beams. For this is fpoken of the Wolfe, and by a Shepherd, to whom that Beaft was an Enemy, with rehire ta his Flock. And fa m Marftons Antonio and Mellida, where the whole Paflage feems to be copied troji of cur Author. X:--.: barks the Wolf again.t :•-.-• '.,'.'.-: '■:■:■: •:'.: Mccn; X:~j: Lyons l\;.'-h\ .-*-:'. 1 :: . .. r:ar ': ■ ::::. ; 1 -jo croaks the Toad, and night-crows fliriek aloud, Flortrir g bout Cafements §f depirhr.g Soul* W-v 2vd? :■■: Graves, c.-.i :'■: ■;' ; let Ioofe ' ' : L z Every i 4 S /f Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. Every elf, and fairy fprite, Hop as light as bird from brier 5 And this ditty after me Sing, and dance it trippingly. £>>ueen. Firfl: rehearfe this fong by roat, To each word a warbling note. Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we fing, and blefs this place. The SONG. Now, until the break of day, through this houfe each Fairy firay. 7*o the beft bride-bed will we, Which by us Jhall blejfed be : And the ijjue, there create •, Ever Jhall be fortunate ; So Jhall all the couples three ' Ever true in loving be : And the blots of nature's hand Shall not in their ijfue ftand\ Never mole, hair- lip, nor fear, Nor mark prodigious, fuch as an Defpifed in nativity ', Shall upon their children be. With this field," dew confecrate, Every Fairy take his gate, And each fever al chamber blefs, Through this palace with fweet peace. Ever Jhall it fafely reft, And the owner of it b/eft. Trip away, make no ft ay ; Meet me all by break of day. Puck. If we ihadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended ; That you have but flumbred here, While thefe vifions did appear. And this weak and idle theam No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, A Midfummer-Nighfs Dream. 1 4 9 Gentles, do not reprehend -, If you pardon, we will mend. And as I am honeft Puck^ If we have unearned luck Now to 'fcape the ferpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long : Elfe the Puck a liar call : So good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends $ And Robin fhall reftore amends. [Exeunt omnes. t j THE THE TWO GENTLEMEN O F VERONA L 4 Dramatis Perform D U K E of Milan, Father to Silvia. Valentine, ? , ' ' _ ' ' . • > the Two Gentlemen. Protheus, > Anphonio, Father to Protheus. Thurio, a foolijh Rival to Valentine. Eglatnoi?, Agent for Silvia in her Efeape., Holt, where Julia lodges in ^lilan. Out-laws, Speed, a chwnijb Servant to Valentine. Launce, the like to Protheus. Panthion, Servant to Aqthonio. Julia, a Lady of Verona, beloved of Protheus. Silvia, the Duke 0/Milan's Daughter , beloved of Valentine. J^ucetta, Waiting-woman to Julia. Servants^ Muficians. The SCENE, fometimes in Verona ; fometimes in Milan ; and on the Frontiers of Mantua. THE TWO GENTLEMEI O F (I) VERONA ACT I. SCENE, an open Place in Verona. finter Valentine cmd Protheus. Valentine. E A S E to perfuade, my loving Protheus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits ; Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the fweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would intreat thy company, To fee the wonders of the world abroad ; Than (living dully fluggardiz'd at home) Wear out thy youth with fhapelefs idlenefs. But fince thou lov'ft, love ftill, and thrive therein j Ev'n as I would, when I to love begin. (i) Mr. Pope has obfervM, that the Stile of this Comedy is lefs figura- tive, and more natural and unaffected, than the greater Part of our Au- thor's Plays, tho1 fuppos'd to be one of the Firft he wrote. I muft ob- serve, too, that as 1 take it to be One of his very worft, it happens to be freeft from accidental Corruptions of the Editors: which is the Reafcm, that my Notes are fewer on This j than on any One of his other Pieces. Pro. 154 Tbe Two Gentlemen of Verona. Pro. Wilt thou be gone? fweet Valentine^ adieu j Think on thy Protheus, when thou, haply, feed Some rare note-worthy obje£t in thy travel: Wifh me partaker in thy happinefs, When thou doft meet good hap 5 and in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy Prayer $ For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine. VaL And on a love-book pray for my fuccefs ? Pro. Upon fome book I love, I'll pray for thee. VaL That's on fome {hallow ftory of deep love, How young Leander crofs'd the Hellefpont. Pro, That's a deep ftory of a deeper love* For he was more than over fhoes in love. Val. 'Tis truej for you are over boots in love, And yet you never fwom the Hellefpont. Pro. Over the boots ? nay, give me not the boots. (1) Vol. No, I will not } for it boots thee not. Pro. What ? VaL To be in love, where fcorn is bought with groans * Coy looks, with heart^fore fighs j one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights. If haply won, perhaps, an haplefs gain : If loft, why then a grievous labour won 5 However, but a folly bought with wit* Or elfe a wit by folly vanquiftied. Pro. So, by your circumftance, you call me fool. Vol. So, by your circumftance, I fear, you'll prove. Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at 5 I am not love. VaL Love is your matters for he -matters you. And he that is fo yoaked by a fool, Methinks, ftiould not be chronicled for wife. Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the fweeteft bud The eating canker dwells j fo eating love Inhabits in the fineft wits of all. (2) nay, give me not the Boots.] A proverbial Expreflion, tho' now difus'd, iignifying, don't make a laughing Stock of me; don't play upon me. The French have aPhrafe, Bailler foln en Cowe; which Cotgrave thus interprets, To give one the Bvots ; to Tell him a Bargain. ■ * fal The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1 5 5 Val. And writers fay, as the moft forward bud Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow -, Even fo by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blafting in the bud * Lofing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore wafte I time to counfel thee, That art a votary to fond defire ? Once more, adieu : my father at the road Expects my coming, there to fee me fhipp'd. Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters Of thy fuccefs in love^ and what news elfe Betideth here in abfence of thy friend : And I likewife will vifit thee with mine. Pro. All happinefs bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home 5 and fo, farewel ! \JLxit. Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love 5 He leaves his friends to dignify them more 5 I leave my felf, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd me* Made me neglect my ftudies, lofe my time, War with good counfel, fet the world at nought 5 Made wit with mufing weak 5 heart fick with thought. Enter Speed. Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you 5 faw you my mafter? Pro. But now he parted hence, t'imbark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then he is fhipp'd already, And I have play'd the fheep in lofing him. Pro. Indeed, a fheep doth very often ftray, An if the fhepherd be awhile away. Speed. You conclude that my mafter is a fhepherd then, and I a fheep ? Pro. I do. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or fleep. Pro. A filly anfwer, and fitting well a fheep. Speed. This proves me ftill a fheep. Pro. 156 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Pro. True \ and thy mafter a fhepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumftance. Pro. It {hall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The fhepherd feeks the fheep, and not the fheep the fhepherd •, but I feek my mafter, and my mafter feeks not me 5 therefore I am no fheep. Pro. The fheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the fhepherd for food follows not the fheep > thou for wages follower!: thy mafter, thy mafter for wages fol- lows not thee-, therefore thou art a fheep. Speed. Such another proof will make me cry Bad. Pro. But doft thou hear ? gaveft thou my letter to Julia ? Speed. Ay, Sir, I, a loft mutton, gave your letter to her, alae'd mutton (13)5 and fhe,a lae'd mutton, gave me, a loft mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Here's too fmall a pafture for fuch ftore of mut- tons. rt Speed. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were befl flick her. Pro. Nay, in that you are a ftray (4)3 'twere befl pound you. Speed. (n.) I a loft Mutton, gave your Letter to ber, a lae'd Mutton ;] Launei calls himfelf a loft Mutton, becaufe he had loft his Mafter, and becauk Proteus had been proving him a Sheep. But why does he call the Ladj a lacd Mutton P Your notable Wenchers are to this day call d Mutton- momers • and confequently the Objeft of their Paffion muft, by the Meta- phor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave, in his Englijh-Frencb Dictionary explains Lac"d Mutton, Vne Garfe, futain, file de Joy >e. And Mr. Mot teux has rendered this Paflage of Rabelais, in the Prologue of his fourth Book, Cailles coipbees mignonnement cbantans, in this manner; Coateil Quails and laced Mutton nvaggifily ftnging. So that lac'd Mutton ha; fen a fort of ftandard Phrafe for Girls ofPleafure. (I (hall explain CailleA eoipbees in its proper Place, upon a Paflage of Troths and Crefftda.) lia . lac' 'd Mutton was a Term in Vogue before our Author appear d inWri tins, I find from an old Play, printed in Black Letter in the Year 1578 cali'd Promos and Cajfandra: in which a Courtezan's Servant thusipea* to her ; * Prying abroad for P 'lay efe Howes, and fucb, For you, Miftrejfe, I bearde of one Phallax, j4 Man efteemde of Promos and I faid, I. Pro. And that fet together, is noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to fet it toge- ther, take it for your pains. Pro. No, no, you fhall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, 1 perceive, I muft be fain to bear with you. Pro. Why, Sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, Sir, the letter very orderly j Having nothing but the word noddy for my pains. Pro. Befhrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your flow purfe. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief > what faid fhe ? Speed. Open your purfe, that the mony and the mat- ter may be both at once deliver'd. Pro. Weil, Sir, here is for your pains, what faid fhe? Speed. Truly, Sir, I think, you'll hardly win her. Pro. Why ? could'ft thou perceive fo much from her ? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her> No, not fo much as a ducket for delivering your letter. And being fo hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, fhe'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but ftones* for fhe's as hard as fleel. Pro. What, faid fhe nothing? Speed. No, not fo much as-— take this for thy pains: To teftify your bounty, I thank you, you have te- ftern'd me : Thirlby advifes that We fhould read, a Stray ; i. e. a (tray Sheep ; which continues Proteus % Banter upon Speed. In i $ 8 The Two Gentlefnen of Verona. In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter your ielf : and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my matter. Pro. Go, go5 begone, to fave your fhip from wrack, Which cannot perifh, having thee aboard, Being deftin'd to a drier death on fhore. I mull go fend fome better meffenger : I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from fuch a worthlefs poft. [Exeunt fever ally. SCENE changes to JuliaV chamber. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. T5 U T fay, Lucetta^ now we are alone, 13 Would'ft thou then counfel me to fall in love ? Luc. Ay, madam, fo you ftumble not unheedfully. Jul. Of allthe fair refort of gentlemen, That ev'ry day with parle encounter me, » In thy opinion which is worthier! love? Luc. Pleafe you, repeat their names ; I'll fhew my mind, According to my (hallow fimple skill. Jul. What think'ft thou of the fair Sir Eglamour ? Luc. As of a Knight well fpoken, neat and fine* But were I you, he never fhould be mine. Jul. What think'ft thou of the rich Mercatio ? Luc. Well of his wealth > but of himfelf, fo, fo.r Jul. What think'ft thou of the gentle Protheus? Luc Lord, lord! to fee what folly reigns in us ! Jul. How now? what means this paflionat his name? Luc. Pardon, dear madam j 'tis a paffing fhame, That I, unworthy body as I am, Should cenfure thus on lovely gentlemen. Jul. Why not on Protheus^ as of all the reft? Luc. Then thus 5 of many good, I think him beft. Jul. Your reafon ? Luc. I have no other but a woman's reafon j I think him fo, becaufe I think him fo. Jul. And would'ft thou have me caftmyloveonhim? Luc* The Two Gentlemen of Verona, i $ ^ Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not caft away. Jul. Why, he of all the reft hath never mov'd me* Luc. Yet he of all the reft, I think, beft loves ye. Jul His little fpeaking ihews his love but fmall. Luc. The fire, that's clofeft kept, burns moft of all. Jul They do not love, that do not mew their love. Luc. Oh, they love leaft, that let men know their love. Jul. I would, I knew his mind. Luc. Perufe this paper, madam. Jul. to Julia , fay, from whom ? . Luc. That the contents will fhew. Jul. Say, fay; who gave it thee? Luc. Sir Valentine's page , and fent, I think, from Protheus. He would have giv'n it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it , pardon the feult, I pray. Jul. Now, by my modefty, a goodly broker! Dare you prefume to harbour wanton lines ? To whifper and confpire againft my youth ? Now, truft me, 'tis an office of great worth ; And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper > fee, it be return'd > Or elfe return no more into my fight. Luc. To plead for love deferves more fee than hate. Jul. Will ye be gone? Luc. That you may ruminate. \_Exit. Jul. And yet I would, I had o'er-look'd the letter/ It were a fhamc to call her back again, And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her. What fool is fhe, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view ? Since maids, in modefty, fay no9 to that Which they would have the proff'rer conftrue, ay. Fie, fie; how wayward is this fooliih love, That, like a tefty babe, will fcratch the nurfe, And prefently, all humbled, kifs the rod ? How churlifhly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! » How angerly I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enfore'd my heart to finile J My 1 6 o The Two Gentlemen of Verona. My penance is to call Lucetta back, And ask remiilion for my folly paft. \Yhat ho ! L;*:c::a ! Re-enter Lucetta. Imc* What would your ladyfhip? Jul. Is't near dinner-time? Luc. I would it were ; That you might kill your ftomack on your meat, And not upon your maid. Jul. Wha: is*; that you Took up fo gingerly ; Luc. Nothing. Jul. Why didft thou ftocp then? L'j:. To take a paper up, :hat I let fall. Jul. And is that paper nothing I Luc. Nothing concerning me. J:-. J. Then let it lye for thofe that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lye, where it concerns M Unlefs it have a falfe interpreter. ?... Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhimd Luc. That I might fing it, madam, to a tune j Give me a note j your ladyfhip can let. Jul. As little by fuch toys as may be poffible, Beft fing it to the tune of Light 0' love. Luc. It is too heavy for fo light a tune. Jul. Heavy ? belike, it hath iome burthen then. Luc. Ay ; and melodious were it, would you finJ Jul. And why not you ? Luc. I cannot reach fo high. Jul. Let's fee your long : How now, minion : Lu:. Keen- :;:ne [here :;■'.'. io you will Gng it cut: And yet, mcthjnks, I do no; like this tune. /. You do not? Luc. No, madam, 'tis too lharp. Jul. You, minion, are too fawcy. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat > And mar the concor hariTi adefcant; There waotetb but a mean, to fail )our long. The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1C1 Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bafe. Luc. Indeed, I bid the bafe for Protheus. (f ) Jul This babble mall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with proteftation ! {Tears it. Go, get you gone 5 and lee the papers lye : You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it flrange, but the would be beft pleas'd To be fo anger'd with another letter. {Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were fo anger'd with the fame ! Oh hateful hands, to tear fuch loving words 5 Injurious wafps, to feed on fuch fweet honey, And kill the bees, that yield it, with your flings! I'll kifs each feveral paper for amends : Look, here is writ kind Julia. -y Unkind Julia! As in revenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name againft the bruifing (tones $ Trampling contemptuoufly on thy dildain. Look, here is writ. Love-wounded Protheus. Poor wounded name ! my bofom, as a bed, Shall lodge thee, 'till thy wound be throughly heal'd 5 And thus I fearch it with a fov'raign kifs. Buc twice, or thrice, was Protheus written down : Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away, 'Till I have found each letter in the letter, Except mine own name : That fome whirl-wind bear Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock, And throw it thence into the raging fea ! Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ: Poor forlorn Protheus, paffionate Protheus, To the fweet Julia : that I'll tear away 5 And yet I will not, 5th fo prettily He couples it to his complaining names : Thus will I fold them one upon another 3 Now kifs, embrace, contend, do what you will. (5) /bid the Ba.Ce for Protheus] Lucetta here alters the Allegory from the Bafe in Muftck to a Country Exercife, call'd in the North, Bid-tbe- Bafe ; in which Some purfue, to take the Others Prifoners. So that Lucetta would intend to fay, " Indeed, I take Pains to make you a " Captive for Proteus. Mr. Warburton. Vol L M Enter i £ z The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Enter Lucetta. Luc. Madam, dinner is ready, and your father flays, Jul. Well, let us go. Luc. What, ihallthefe papers lye like tell-tales here? Jul. If thou refpecl: them, bed to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down : Yet here they fhall not lye, for catching cold. Jul. I fee, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may fay what fights you fee; I fee things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will'c pleafe you go? [Exeunt. SCENE, AnthonioV Houfe. Enter Anthonio and Panthion. Ant. npELL me, Panthion^ what fad talk was that, X Wherewith my brother held you in the cloifter ? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Protheus^ your fon. Ant. Why, what of him ? Pant. He wonder'd that your lordfhip Would fuffer him to fpend his youth at home, While other men of (lender reputation Put forth their fons to feek preferment out : (<5) Some to the wars, to try their fortune there* Some, to difcover Iflands far away j Some, to the ftudious universities. For any, or for all thefe exercifes, He faid, that Protheus your fon was meet : And did requeft me to importune you, To let him fpend his time no more at home > Which would be great impeachment to his age, (6) Put forth their fins.'] In S hake/pear e's Time, Voyages for the D covery of the Weft- Indies were all in Vogue. And we nnd, in the jo rniis of Travellers of that Time, that the Sons of Noblemen, and of onie s of the bell Quality in England, went commonly on thole Ad- . mures. To which prevailing Fainion, 'tis evident, the Poet frequently aliuucs in this Play , not without high Commendations of it. , Mr. Wurhurton, la The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1*5 In having known no travel in his youth. Ant. Nor need'ft thou much importune me to that, Whereon this month I have been hammering, I have confider'd well his lofs of time j And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being try'd, and tutor'd in the world : Experience is by induftry atchiev'd, And perfected by the fwift courfe of time : Then tell me, whither were I beft to fend him? Pant. I think, your lordmip is not ignorant, How his companion, youthful Valentine^ Attends the Emperor in his royal court. (7) Ant. I know it well. Pant. 'Twere good, I think, your lordihip fent him thither* There fhall he praftife tilts and tournaments, Hear fweet difcourfe, converfe with noblemen 5 And be in eye of every exercife, Worthy his youth and noblenefs of birth. Ant. I like thy counfelj well haft thou advis'd : And that thou may'ft perceive how well I like it, The execution of it fhall make known 5 Ev'n with the fpeedieft expedition I will difpatch him to the Emperor's court. Pant. To morrow, may it pleafe you, Don Alphonfoy With other gentlemen of good efteem, Are journeying to falute the Emperor > And to commend their fervice to his will. Ant. Good company : with them fhall Protheus go. And, in good time, now will we break with him. (7) Attends the Emperor in his royal Court."] The Emperor's Royal Court is properly at Vienna, but Valentine, 'tis plain, is at Milan ; where, in moll other PaiTages, 'tis faid he is attending the Duke, who makes one of the Characters in the Drama. This Teems to convict the Author of a Forgetfulnefs and Contradiction ; but, perhaps, it may be folv'd thus, and Milan be call'd the Emperor's Court, as, fince the Reign of Charlemaigne, this Dukedom and its Territories have belong'd to the Emperors. I wilh, I could as eafily folve another Abfurdity, which encounters us ; of Valentine\ going from Verona to Milan, both: Inland places, by Sea* M z Enter i that not an eve that ices you, but is a phyilci- an to comment on vour malady. /. But tell me, doil thou know my lady S Sr::.!. She, that you gaze on fo as lhe tits atlupper? Pal. Hail thou obierv'd that? ev'n the I mean. W hv, Sir, I know her not. P*l, Doil thou know her by my gazing on her, and [ know'il her not ? .". Is lhe not hard-favour'd, Sir ? I'.i.. Not io fair, boy, as well-iavour'J. Sp The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. 167 Speed. Sir, I know that well enough. Val. What doff, thou know? Speed. That fhe is not fo fair, as of you well faVour'd. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquifite, But her Favour infinite. Speed. That's becaufe the one is painted, and the other out of all count. Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, Sir, fo painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Val. How efteem'fl thou me ? I account of hef beauty. Speed. You never faw her fince me was dcform'd. Val. How long hath me been deform'd ? Speed. Ever tince you lov'd her. Val. I have lov'd her, ever fince I faw her 5 And dill I fee her beautiful. Speed. If you love her, you cannot fee her. Val. Why? Speed. Becaufe love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes, or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Protbeus for going un- garter'd ! Val. What mould I fee then? Speed. Your own prefent folly, and her pafling de- formity : For he, being in love, could not fee to gar- ter his hofe^ and you, being in love, cannot fee to put on your hofe. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love: for lad morning you could not fee to wipe my fhoes. Speed. True, Sir, I was in love with my bed > I thank you, you fwing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. Val. In conclufion, I ftand affected to her. Speed. I would you were fet, fo your affection would ceafc. Val. Laft night fhe enjoin'd me to write fome lines to one fhe loves. Speed. And have you ? Val. I have. M 4 fyeid. \G 8 The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Speed. Are they not lamely writ ? Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them : Peace, here fhe comes. Enter Silvia. Speed. Oh excellent motion ! oh exceeding puppet I Now will he interpret to her. Val. Madam and miflrefs, a thoufand good morrows. Speed. Oh ! 'give ye good ev'n j here's a million of manners. Sil. Sir Valentine and fervant, to you two thoufand. Speed. He ihould give her intereft 5 and fhe gives it him. Val. As you injoin'd me, I have writ your letter, Unto the fecret, nameleis, friend of yours; "Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyfhip. Sil. I thank you, gentle fervant* 'tis very clerkly done. Val. Now truft me, madam, it came hardly off: For being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully. Sil. Perchance, you think too much of fo much pains ? Val. No, Madam, fo it fteed you, I will write, Pleafe you command, a thoufand times as much. And yet ■ Sil. A pretty period ; well, I guefs the fequel * And yet I will not name it, and yet I care not j And yet take this again, and yet I thank you j Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will ; and yet, another yet. [Afide. Val. What means your ladyfhip? do you not like it? Sil. Yes, yes, the lines are very quaintly writ 5 But fince unwillingly, take them again j Nay, take them. Val. Madam, they are for you. Sil. Ay, ay j you writ them, Sir, at my requeft; Put I will none of them ; they are for you: 1 would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Pleafe you, I'll write your ladyfhip another. Sil. The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. 1 69 Sil. And when it's writ, for my fake read it over $ And if it pleafc you, fo ; if not, why fo. Val. If it pleafe me, Madam, what then ? Sil. Why if it pleafe you, take it for your labour $ And fo good morrow, fervant. \Exit9 Speed. O jeft unfeen, infcrutable, invif-ible, As a nofe on a man's face, or a weathercock on a fteeple ! My mafter fues to her, and me hath taught her fuitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor : O excellent device ! was there ever heard a better ? That my mafter, being the fcribe, to himfelf mould write the letter ? Val. How now, Sir ? what are you reafoning with your felf ? Speed. Nay, I was rhiming$ 'tis you that have the reafon. Val. To do what ? Speed. To be a fpokes-man from Madam Silvia. Val. To whom ? Speed. To your felf $ why, me wooes you by a figure. Val. What^ figure? Speed. By a letter, I mould fay. Val. Why, fhe hath not writ to me? Speed. What need fhe, When lhe hath made you write to your felf? Why, do you not perceive the jeft ? Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you, indeed, Sir : but did you perceive her earneft ? Val. She gave mc none, except an angry word. Speed. Why, me hath given you a letter. Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath {he deliver'd, and there's an end. Val. I would it were no worfe. Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well : " For often have you writ to her, and me in modefty, •' Or elfe for want of idle time, could not again reply > " Ox 170 The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. « Or fearing elfe fome meflenger, that might her mind u difcover, « Her felf hath taught her love himfelf to write unto •€ her lover. All this I fpeak in print y for in print I found it. . Why mufe you, Sir ? 'tis dinner time. Val. I have din'd. Speed. Ay, but hearken, Sir 5 tho' the Cameleon love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourinYd by my victuals 5 and would fain have meat : oh, be not like your miftrefs * be moved, t>e moved, {Exeunt. SCENE changes to Julia V houfe at Verona, Enter Protheus and Julia. Pf0- TT AVE patience, gentle Julia. £~1 JmI. I muft, where is no remedy. Pro. When poflibly I can, I will return. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the fooner : Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's fake. {Giving a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange > here, take you this. Jul. And feal the bargain with a holy kifs. Pro. Here is my hand for my true conflancy j And when that hour o'erflips me in the day, Wherein I figh not, Julia9 for thy fake y The next enfuing hour fome foul mifchance Torment me, for my love's forgetfulnefs ! My father flays my coming 5 anfwer not ; The tide is now 5 nay, not thy tide of tears ; That tide will flay me longer, than I (hould : [Exit Julia. Julia, fare w el. — What ! gone without a word ? Ay,fo true love fhould do 5 it cannot fpeak 5 itfodL*$ox truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace 1%. Enter Panthion. Pan. Sir Protheus^ you are ftaid for, Pro. Go 5 I come. Alas ! this parting flrikcs poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. SCENE The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1 7 1 SCENE changes to a Street. Enter Launce, with his dog Crab. Ldun. "XT A Y, 'twill be this hour ere I have done JlN weeping ; all the kind of the Launce s have this very fault : I have receiv'd my proportion, like the prodigious fon, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the fowreft-natur'd dog that lives : my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howl' ling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our houfe in a great perplexity y yet did not this cruel- hearted cur fhed one tear! he is a fione, a very pebble- (tone, and has no more pity in him than a dog : a Jew would have wept, to have feen our parting ; why, my gran- dam having no eyes, look you, wept herfelf blind at my parting. Nay, I'll fhow you the manner of it: this fhoe is my father ; no, this left fhoe is my father ; no, no, this left fhoe is my mother ; nay, that can- not be fo neither ; yes, it is fo, it is fo ; it hath the worfer fole ; this fhoe, with the hole in it, is my mo- ther, and this my father ; a vengeance on't, there 'tis: now, Sir, this flaff is my lifter ♦, for, look you, fhe is as white as a lilly, and as fmall as a wand ; this hat is Nany our maid ; I am the dog; no, the dog is himfelf, and I am the dog : oh, the dog is me, and I am my fclf; ay, fo, foj now come I to my father j father, your bleffing ; now fhould not the fnoe fpeak a word for weeping j now fhould I kits my father ; well, he weeps on; now come I to my mother; oh that fhe could fpeak now (p) like a wood woman ! well, I (9) Like an ould Woman ! ] Thefe mere poetical Editors can do No- thing towards an Emendation, even when 'tis chalk'd out to their hands. The firffc Folio s agree in would-woman ; for which, becaufe it was a Myftery to Mr. Pope, he has unmeaningly fubftituted ould Woman. But it muft be writ, or at lead underftood, wood Woman, i. e. crazy, frantick with Grief; or, diftra&ed, from any other Caufe. The Word is very frequently ufed in Chaucer, arid fometim:s writ, wood; fome- 'times, nvode. What 171 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. I kifs her 5 why, there 'tis ? here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my filler * mark the moan Ihe makes : now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor fpeaks a word 3 but fee, how I lay the duft with my tears. Enter Panthion. Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard 5 thy matter is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars : what's the matter ? why weep'ft thou, man ? away, afs, you will lofe the tide if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft, for it is the unkindeft ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pant. What's the unkindeft tide ? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here 5 Crab, my dog. Pant. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lofe the flood 5 and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage ; and in lofing thy voyage, lofe thy mafter $ and in lofing thy mafter, lofe thy fervice 5 and in lofing thy fervice, why doft thou flop my mouth ? Laun. For fear thou fhould'ft lofe thy tongue. Pant. Where fhould I lofe my tongue ? Laun. In thy tale. Pant. In thy tail ? — Laun. Lofe the flood, and the voyage, and the What Jbould he ftudy, or make himfelf wood ? In his Character of the Monk, 'They told enfry Man that he was wode, He was aghajie Jo of Noe's fiode. In his Millers Tale. And he likewife ufes Wodenefs, for Madnefs. Fid. SpelmanV Saxon Glojfaty in the Word Wod. As to the Reading in the old Editions, Would woman, perhaps, this may be a defign'd Corruption, to make Launce purpofely blunder in the Word ; as he a little before very humouroufly calls the Prodigal Son, the Prodigious Son. ■ — I ought to take notice, that my ingenious Friend Mr. Warhurton fent me up this fame Emendation, unknowing that I had already corrected the Place. 1 had like to have forgot, that Wood is a Term likewife ufed by our own Poet. Mi d/ummer- Night's Dream, Aft 2. And here am I, and wood within this Wood. Which Mr. Pope has there rightly expounded, by mad, wild, raving. And, again, Shakefpeare, in one of his Poems, has this Line: ^hen to the Woods Jl ark wood in Rage Jhe hyes her. mafter, The T&6 Gentlemen 0/ Veroaa. 175 mafter, and the fervice, and the tide ? why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears 5 if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my fighs. Pant, Come, come away, man ; I was fent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou dar'ft. Pant. Wilt thou go? Laun. Well, I will go. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Milan, An Apartment in the Duke'j Palace. "Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Sil. QErvant, » O Vol. Miftrefs? Speed, Mafter, Sir Thurio frowns on you. Vol. Ay, boy, it's for love. Speed. Not of you. Vol. Of my miftrefs then. Speed. 'Twere good, you knockt him. Sil. Servant, you are fad. Vol. Indeed, madam, I feem fo. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Vol. Haply, I do. Thu. So do counterfeits. Vol. So do you. Thu. What feem I, that I am not ? Val. Wife. Thu. What inftance of the contrary ? Val. Your folly. Thu. And how quote you my folly ? Val. I quote it in your jerkin. Thu. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How? Sil. What angry, Sir Thurio ? do you change colour ? Val. Give him leave, madam 5 he is a kind of Ca- fneleon. tbu. 174 The Two Gentlemen 0/" Verona. fthu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Vah You have faid, Sir. fthu. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time. Vah I know it well, Sir 3 you always end, ere you begin. Sil. A fine volly of words, gentlemen, and quickly fhot off. Vah 'Tis, indeed, madam ; we thank the giver. Sil. Who is that, fervant? Vah Your felf, fweet lady, for you gave the fire: Sir Tlourio borrows his wit from your ladyfhip's looks, and fpends, what he borrows, kindly in your company* " tbu\ Sir, if you fpend word for word with me, I fhall make your wit bankrupt. Vah I know it well, Sir ; you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treafure to give your fol- lowers : for it appears, by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more : Here comes my father. Enter the Duke. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health : What fay you to a letter from your friends Of much good news? Vah My lord, I will be thankful To any happy mefTenger from thence. Duke. Know you Don Anthonio, your countryman? Vol. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth and worthy eftimation -, And, not without defert, fo well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a fon ? Vah Ay, my good lord, a fon that well deferves The honour and regard of fuch a father. Duke. You know him well ? Vah I knew him, as'my felf -y for from our infancy We have converft, and ipent our hours together: And tho' my felf have been an idle truant, Omitting The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 175 Omitting the fweet benefit of time, To cloathe mine age with angel-like perfection j Yet hath Sir Protheus, for that's his name, Made ufe and fair advantage of his days 5 His years but young, but his experience old > His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe$ And, in a word, (for far behind his worth Come all the praifes, that I now beftow$) He is compleat in feature and in mind, With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Duke. Befhrew me, Sir, but if he makes this good, He is as worthy for an emprefs' love, As meet to be an Emperor's counfellor: Well, Sir, this gentleman is come to me, With commendations from great potentates; And here he means to fpend his time a while. I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. Should I have winVd a thing, it had been he. , Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth : Silvia, I fpeak to you 5 and you, Sir ^Thurio j J?or Valentine, I need not cite him to it : I'll fend him hither to you prefently. \_Exit Duke. Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyfhip, Had come along with me, but that his miftrefs Did hold his eyes lockt in her cryftal looks. Sil. Belike, that now fhe hath enfranchis'd them Upon fome other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, fure, I think, fhe holds them pris'ners ftill. Sil. Nay, then he fhould be blind > and, being blind, How could he fee his way to fedc out you ? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. T'hu. They fay, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To fee fuch lovers, Thurio, as your felf : Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter Protheus. Sil. Have done, have done 5 here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Protheus : miftrefs, I befeech you, Confirm his welcome with fome fpecial favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, 5 If ip '6 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. If this be he, you oft have wifh'd to hear from. Val. Miftrefs, it is : Sweet lady, entertain hirri To be my fellow-fervant to your ladyfhip. Sil. Too low a miftrefs for fo high a fervant. Pro. Not fo, fweet lady j but too mean a fervant, To have a look of fudh a worthy miftrefs. Val. Leave offdifcourfe of difability : Sweet lady, entertain him for your fervant. pro. My duty will I boaft of, nothing elfe. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed : Servant, you're welcome to a worthlefs miftrefs. Pro. I'll die on him that fays fo, but your felf. Sil. That you are welcome ? Pro. That you are worthlefs. Enter Servant. Serv. Madam, my lord your father would fpeak with you. (10) Sil. I'll wait upon his pleafure : [Exit ServJ] Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me. Once more, my new fervant, welcome : I'll leave you to confer of home-affairs ; When you have done, we look to hear from you. Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyfhip. [Ex. Sil. and Thu. Val. Now tell me, how do all from whence you came ? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended. Val. And how do yours? Pro. I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady ? and how thrives your love ? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you 3 I know, you joy not in a love-difcourfe. (10) Thur. Madam, my Lord your Father] This Speech in all the Edi- tions is aflign'd improperly to fburio ; but he has been all along upon the Stage, and could not know that the Duke wanted his Daughter. Befides, the flrft Line and half of Silvias Anfwer is evidently addrefs'd to two Perfons. A Servant, therefore, mull come in and deliver the Meflage ; and then Si/via goes out with Tburis. Val The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 177 Val. Ay, Protheus^ but that life is alter'd now j Ihave done penance for contemning love j Whofe high imperious thoughts have punifh'd me With bitter fails, with penitential groans 5 With nightly tears, and daily heart-fore fighs. For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chac'd fleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's forrow.^ O gentle Protheus^ love's a mighty lord* And hath fo humbled me, as, I confefs, There is no wo to his correction j Nor to his fervice, no fuch joy on earth. Now no difcourfe, except it be of love* -Now can I break my faft, dine, fup, and fleep Upon the very naked name of love. Pro. Enough : I read your fortune in your eye. Was this the idol, that you worfhip fo ? Val. Even ihe j and is flie not a heav'nly faint ? Pro. No 5 but flie is an earthly paragon. Val. Call her divine. , Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me -, for love delights in praifc. Pro. When I was lick, you gave me bitter pills j And I muft minifter the like to you. Val. Then fpeak the truth by her 5 if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sov'raign to all the creatures on the earth. Pro. Except my miftrefs. Val. Sweet, except not any; Except thou wilt except againft my love. Pro. Have I not reafon to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too : She fhall be dignify'd with this high honour,. To bear my lady's train, left the bafe earth Should from her vefture chance to fteal a kifs % And, of fo great a favour growing proud, Difdain to root the fummer-fwelling flower \ And make rough winter everlaftingly. Pro. Why, Valentine, what bragadifm is this? Val. Pardon me, Protheus j all I can, is nothing Vol. I. N T* i78 The Two Gentlemen of 'Verona. To her, whofe worth makes other worthies nothing 5 She is alone-- — Pro. Then let her alone. Val Not for the world : why, man, fhe is mine ownj And I as rich in having fuch a jewel, As twenty Teas, if all their fand were pearl, The water neclar, and the rocks pure gold. Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee, Becaufe thou feeft me doat upon my love. My foolifh rival, that her father likes, Only for his pofleffions are fo huge, Is gone with her along, and I mull after ; For love, thou know'ft, is full of jealoufie. Pro. But {he loves you? Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd 5 nay more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determined of \ how I muft climb her window, The ladder made of cords, and all the means Plotted and 'greed on for my happinefs. Good ProtheuS) go with me to my Chamber, In thefe affairs to aid me with thy counfel. Pro. Go on before j I fhall enquire you forth. I muft unto the road, to difembark Some neceflaries that I needs muft ufe 5 And then I'll prefently attend you. Val. Will you make hafte ? Pro. I will. [E#//Val Ev'n as one heat another heat expels, Or as one nail by ftrength drives out another 5 So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer object quite forgotten. Is it mine Eye, or Valentino's Praife, (11) Her (it) Is it mine then, or Valentino^ Praife^] This fupplemental Word, th n, w; s firft clapt in by Mr. Ronve to help the laboring Verfe, and fince embrae'd by Mr. Pope. But let us fee, what Senfe refults from it. What ! is Proteus queftionmg with himfelf, whether it is his own Praife, or Falevt Ws, that makes him fall in Love ? But Proteus had not prais'd Silvia any farther than giving his Opinion of her in three Words, wiien his Friend demanded it. In all the old Editions, we find it thus ; is The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. 172 Her true perfection, or my falfe tranfgreflion, That makes me, reafonlefs, to reafon thus ? She's fair -, and fo is Julia9 that I love s That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd % Which, like a waxen image 'gainft a fire, Bears no impreffion of the thing it was. Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold 5 And that I love him not, as I was wont. O ! but I love his hdy too, too, much ; And that's the reafon, I love him fo little. How ihall I doat on her with more advice, That thus without advice begin to love her ? 'Tis but her pifture I have yet beheld, And that hath dazled fo my reafon's light : But when I look on her perfections, There is no reafon, but I mall be blind. If I can check my erring love, I will 5 If not, to compafs her I'll ufe my skill. tSxU. SCENE changes to a Street. Enter Speed and Launce. Speed. T A U N C E, by mine honefty, welcome to L -f Milan. Laun. Forfwear not thy felf, fweet youth 5 for I am not welcome: I reckon this always, that a man is never undone, 'till he be hang'd > nor never welcome to a place, till fome certain fhot be paid, and the hoftefs fay, welcome. Is it mine, or Valentino's Praife. The Verfe halts fo, that fome one Syllable muft be wanting ; and that Mr. Warburton has very ingenioufly, and, as I think, wkn Certainty fupply'd, as I have reftor'd in the Text. Proteus had juft feen Valen- tine's Miftrefs ; Valentine had prais'd her fo lavifhly, that the iDefcrip- tion heighten' d Proteus 's Sentiments of her from the Interview ; fo that it was the ieis Wonder that he fhould not know certainly, at firft, which made the ftrongeit Impreffion, Valentine's Praifes, or his own View of the Original. It is Padua in the former editions. See the note on Jfl 3 . Mr. Pope. N l Speed. 1 8 o The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Speed, Come on, you mad-cap * I'll to the ale-houfc with you prefently, where, for one fhot of five-pnce, thou fhalt have five thoufand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy mafter part with madam Julia ? Latin. Marry, after they clos'd in earned, they part- ed very fairly in jeft. Speed. But (hall fhe marry him ? Latin. No. Speed. How then? fhall he marry her? Laun. No, neither. Speed. What, are they broken ? Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fifh; Speed. Why then how (lands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus : when it ftands well with him, it ftands well with her. Speed. What an afs art thou ? I underftand thee not. Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canft not? My ftaff underftands me. Speed. What thou fay'ft? Laun. Ay, and what I do too? look thee, I'll but lean, and my ftaff underftands me. Speed. It ftands under thee indeed. Laun. Why, ftand-under, and underftand, is all one. Speed, But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog : if he fay, ay, it will j if he fay, no, it willi if he fhake his tail, and fay nothing, it will. Speed. The conclufion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou ftialt never get fuch a fecret from mc, but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well, that I get it fo > but, Launce^ how fay'ft thou, that my mafter is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwife. Speed. Than how ? I aun. A notable Lubber, as thou reported him to be. Speed. Why, thou whorfon afs, thou miftak'ft me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee* I meant thy mafter. Speed. I tell thee, my mafter is become a hot lover. Lau j. The Two Gentlemen of Verona, i 8 i Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not tho' he burn himfelf in love : If thou wilt go with me to the ale- houfe, fo 5 if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Chriftian. Speed, Why? . Laun. Becaufe thou haft not fo much charity in thee, as to go to the ale-houfe with a Chriftian: wilt thou go ? Speed. At thy fervice. [Exeunt. Enter Protheus folus. Pro. To leave my Juliar fhall I be forfworn % To love fair Silvia, fhall I be forfworn 5 To wrong my friend, I fhall be much forfworn : And ev'n that pow'r, which gave me firfb my oath, Provokes me to this threefold perjury. Love bad me fwear, and love bids me forfwear : 0 fweet-fuggefting love ! if thou haft finn'd, Teach me, thy tempted fubject, to excufe it. At firft I did adore a twinkling liar, But now I worfhip a celeftial fun. Unheedful vows may needfully be broken ; And he wants wit that wants refolved will, To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better. Fie, fie, unreverend tongue ! to call her bad, Whofe Sov'raignty fo oft thou haft preferred With twenty thoufand foul-confirming oaths. 1 cannot leave to love, and yet I do : But there I leave to love, where I fhould love: Julia I lofe, and Valentine I lofe : If I keep them, I needs muft lofe my felf : If I lofe them, this find I by their lofs, For Valentine, my felf \ for Julia, Silvia : ■ I to my felf am dearer than a friend j For love is ftill moft precious in its felf: And Silvia, (witnefs heav'n, that made her fair!) Shews Julia but a fwarthy Ethiope, I will forget that Julia is alive, Retnembring that my love to her is dead: And Valentine I'll hold an enemy, N j Aimiaj j 8 x The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Aiming at Silvia as a fweeter friend. I cannot now prove conftant to my felf. Without fome treachery us'd to Valentine : This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber- window $ My felf in counfel his competitor. Now prefently I'll give her father notice Of their difguifing, and pretended flight} Who, all enrag'd, will banifh Valentine : For ihurio, he intends, (hall wed his daughter. But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly crofs, By fome fly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. Love, lend me wings to make my purpofe fwift, As thou haft lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit. SCENE changes to JuliaV Houfe in Verona. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. /^Ounfel, Lucetta \ gentle girl, aflift me; V^/ And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee, Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are vifibly chara&er'd and engrav'd, To leffbn me $ and tell me fome good mean, How with my honour I may undertake A journey to my loving Protheus. Luc. Alas ! the way is wearifome and long. Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To meafure kingdoms with his feeble fteps \ Much lefs fhall fhe, that hath love's wings to fly* And when the flight is made to one fo dear, Of fuch divine perfection as Sir Protheus. Luc. Better forbear, 'till Protheus make return. Jul. Oh, know'it thou not, his looks are my foul's food? Pity the dearth, that I have pined in, By longing for that food fo long a time. Didft thou but know the inly touch of love, Thou would'ft as foon go kindle fire with mow, As feek to quench the fire of love, with words. Luc. The Two Gentlemen of Verona, i 8 5 Luc. I do not feek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualifie the fire's extream rage, Left it fhould burn above the bounds of reafon. Jul. The more thou damm'ft it up, the more it burns : The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'ft, being ftopp'd, impatiently doth rage 5 But when his fair courfe is not hindered, He makes fweet mufick with th'enamel'd ftonesj Giving a gentle kifs to every fedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage : And fo by. many winding nooks he ftrays, With willing fport, to the wild ocean. Then let me go, and hinder not my courfe 5 I'll be as patient as a gentle ftream, And make a paftime of each weary ftep, 'Till the laft ftep have brought me to my love $ And there I'll reft, as, after much turmoil, A bleffed foul doth in Elyfium. Luc. But in what habit will you go along ? Jul. Not like a woman > for I would prevent The loofe encounters of lafcivious men : Gentle Lucetta^ fit me with fuch weeds As may befeem fome well-reputed page. Luc. Why then your ladyfhip muft cut your hair. Jul. No, girl -, I'll knit it up in filken firings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love-knots : To be fantaftick, may become a youth Of greater time than I mail ftiew to be. Luc. W hat failiion,Madam,mali I make your breeches ? Jul. That fits as well, as — u tell me, good my lord, *c What compafs will you wear your farthingale ? Why, even what fafhion thou beft like'ft, Lucetta. Luc. You muft needs have them with a cod-piece, Madam. Jul Out, out, Lucetta ! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hofe, Madam, now's not worth a pin, Unlefs you have a cod-piece to ftick pins on. N 4 Jul 184 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Jul. Lucetta* as thou lov'fl me, let me have What thou think'fl meet, and is moft mannerly : But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me For undertaking fo unftaid a journey ? I fear me, it will make me fcandaliz'd. Luc. If you think fo, then ftay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. If Protheus like your journey, when you come, No matter who's difpleas'd, when you are gone : I fear me, he will fcarce be pleas 'd withal. Jul. That is the leafl, Lucetta, of my fear: A thoufand oaths, an ocean of his tears, And inftances as infinite of love, Warrant me welcome to my Protheus. Luc. All thefe are fervants to deceitful men. Jul. Bafe men, that ufe them to fo bafe effect ! But truer flars did govern Protheus'' birth j His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles j His love fincere, his thoughts immaculate 5 His tears, pure mefTengers fent from his heart j His heart as far from fraud, as heav'n from earth. Luc. Pray heav'n he prove fo, when you come to him ! Jul. Now, as thou lov'fl me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth -, Only deferve my love, by loving him j And prefently go with me to my chamber, To take a note, of what I ftand in need of, To furnifh me upon my longing journey: All that is mine I leave at thy difpofe, My goods, my lands, my reputation 5 Only, in lieu thereof, difpatch me hence: Come, anfwer not 5 but to it prefently : I am impatient of my tarriance. {Exeunt* ACT TToe Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. 1 8 5 ACT III. SCENE, the Dukes Palace, in Milan. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Protheus. Duke. SIR Thurio^ give us leave, I pray, a while; We havefome fecreri.to confer about. [Exit Thur. Now tell me, Protheu^ what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would difcover, The law of rriendfliip bids me to conceal; But when I call to mind your gracious favours ! Pone to me, undeferving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that, Which, elfe, no worldly good fhould draw from me, ! Know, worthy Prince, Sir Valentine my friend j This night intends to fteal away your daughter : My felf am one made privy to the plot. I know, you have determin'd to bellow her On 1'hurio^ whom your gentle daughter hates : i And fhould me thus be ftoll'n away from you, I It would be much vexation to your age. j Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chofc To crofs my friend in his intended drift; i Than, by concealing it, heap on your head A pack of forrows, which would prefs you down, If unprevented, to your timelefs grave. Duke. Protheus , I thank thee for thine honeft care| Which to requite, command me while I live. This love of theirs my felf have often feen, Haply, when they have judg'd me faft aileepj And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her company, and my Court : But, fearing left my jealous aim might err, And fo unworthily difgrace the man, (A rafhnefs, that I ever yet have fhunn'dj) i %6 The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. I gave him gentle looks j thereby to find That which thy felf haft now dilclos'd to me. And that thou may'ft perceive my fear of this, Knowing that tender youth is foon fuggefted, I nightly lodge her in an upper tower, The key whereof my felf have ever kept $ And thence fhe cannot be convey'd away. Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean How he her chamber-window will afcend, And with a corded ladder fetch her down ; For which the youthful lover now is gone, And this way comes he with it prefently : Where, if it pleafe you, you may intercept him, But, good my lord, do it fo cunningly, That my difcov'ry be not aimed at j For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence. Duke. Upon mine honour, he fliall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord : Sir Valentine is coming. [Exit Pro, Enter Valentine. Duke. Sir Valentine^ whither away fo faft ? Vol. Pleafe it your Grace, there is a meflenger That flays to bear my letters to my friends. And I am going to deliver them. Duke. Be they of much import? Vol. The Tenour of them doth but fignifie My health, and happy being at your Court. Duke. Nay then, no matter > ftay with me a while * I am to break with thee of fome affairs, That touch me near j wherein thou muft be fecret. 'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my lord > and, fure, the match Were rich and honourable * befides, the gentleman Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Befeeming fuch a wife as your fair daughter. Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him? 1 Duke. The Two Gentlemen af Verona. 1 87 Duke. No, trufl: me \ fhe is peevifh, fallen, froward, Proud, difobedient, flubborn, lacking duty * Neither regarding that fhe is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father : And may I fay to thee, this pride of hers, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her 5 And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherinVd by her child-like duty,' I now am full refolv'd to take a wife, And turn her out to who will take her in : Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower 5 For me, and my pofTeffions, (he efteems not. Vah What would your Grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady, -f Sir, in Milan here, Whom I affect > but fhe is nice and coy, And nought efteems my aged eloquence : Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor* (For long agone I have forgot to court j Befides, the fafhion of the time is chang'd,) How, and which way, I may beftow my felf, To be regarded in her fun-bright eye. Val. Win her with gifts, if fhe refpects not words 3 Dumb jewels often in their filent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But fhe did fcorn a prefent, that I fent her. Val. A woman fometimes fcorns what befl: contents her j Send her another j never give her o'er 5 For fcorn at firft makes after-love the more. If fhe do frown, 'tis not in hate of you, But rather to beget more love in you : If fhe do chide, 'tis not to have you gone 5 For why, the fools are mad if left alone. Take no repulfe, whatever fhe doth fay 5 For, get you gone, fhe doth not mean away : , ■f Sir, in Milan here. 7/ ought to be thus, inftead of in Verona here for the Scene apparently is in Milan, as is clqar from fever al fajfages in the firft A3, and in the beginning of the firji Scene of the fourth A£l. A like mijiake has crept into the eighth Scene of Aft II. nvhere Speed bids his fellow-fcrvant Launce, welcome to Padua. Mr. Pope. Flatter, 1 8 8 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Flatter, and praife, commend, extol their graces % Tho' ne'er fo black, fay, they have angels faces. That man that hath a tongue, I fay, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. Duke. But fhe I mean, is promis'd by her friends Unto a youthful gentleman of worth, And kept feverely from refort of men, That no man hath accefs by day to her. Val. Why then I would refort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors belockt,and keys kept fafe, That no man hath recourfe to her by night. Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, And built fo (helving, that one cannot climb ic Without apparent hazard of his life. Val. Why then a ladder quaintly made of cords, To caft up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would ferve to fcale another Hero's tower, So bold Leander would adventure it. Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advife me where I may have fuch a ladder. Val. When would you ufe it ? pray, Sir, tell me that Duke. This very night > for love is like a child, That longs for ev'ry thing that he can come by. Val. By feven a clock I'll get you fuch a ladder. Duke. But hark thee : I will go to her alone $ How ihall I beft convey the ladder thither ? Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Under a cloak that is of any length. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will ferve the turn ? Val. Ay, my good lord. Duke. Then let me fee thy cloak \ I'll get me one of fuch another length. Val. Why, any cloak will ferve the turn, my lord. Duke. How fhall I fafhion me to wear a cloak ? I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. What letter is this fame? what's here? To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding ? I'll be fo bold to break the feal for once. [Duke reads. The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1 8 9 My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly. And Jlaves they are to me, that fend them flying : Oh, could their mafter come and go as lightly, Himfelf would lodge, where fenfelefs they are lying : My herald thoughts in thy pure bofom reft them, JVhile I, their King, that thither them importune, Do curfe the grace, that with fuch grace hath ble(l them, Becaufe my [elf do want my fervanf s fortune : I curfe my felf, for they are fent by me 5 ¥hat they fhould harbour, where their lord would be. What's here ? Silvia, this night will I enfranchi/e thee : *Tis fo y and here's the ladder for the purpofe. Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merops* fon, Wilt thou afpire to guide the heav'nly car, And with thy daring folly burn the world ? Wilt thou reach ftars, becaufe they fhine on thee ? Go, bafe intruder ! over- weening flave ! Beftow thy fawning fmiles on equal mates 5 And think, my patience, more than thy defert, Is privilege for thy departure hence : Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Which, all too much, I have beftow'd on thee. But if thou linger in my territories. Longer than fwiftefl: expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal Court, By heav'n, my wrath fhall far exceed the love, I ever bore my daughter or thy felf: Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excufe, But as thou lov'fl: thy life, make fpeed from hence. \_Exif. Vah And why not death, rather than living torment ? To die, is to be baniuYd from my felf, And Silvia is my felf$ banifh'd from her, Is felf from felf: a deadly banifhment ! What light is light, if Silvia be not feen? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Unlefs it be to think, that fhe is by j And feed upon the fhadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no mufick in the nightingale 5 Unlefs 1 look on Silvia in the day, There ipo The Two Gentlemen of Verona There is no day for me to look upon: She is my eflence, and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherifh'd, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom* Tarry I here, I but attend on death : But fly I hence, I fly away from life. Enter Protheus and Launce. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and feck him out. Laun. So-ho ! fo-ho ! ■ Pro. What feeft thou? Laun. Him we go to find : There's not an hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentin*. Pro. Valentine, ™ Val. No. Pro. Who then 5 his fpirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing, s Laun. Can nothing fpeak ? mafter, fhall I ftrike ? Pro. Whom wouldft thou ftrike ? Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. Laun. Why, Sir, I'll ftrike nothing* I pray you,— Pro. I fay, forbear: friend Valentine, & word. Val. My ears are ftopt, and cannot hear good news, So much of bad already hath pofTeft them. Pro. Then in dumb filence will I bury mint} For they arc harfh, untuneable, and bad. Val. Is Silvia dead ? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred Silvia ! Hath fhe forfworn me? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forfworn me! What is your news? Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you arc vanifh'd. Pro. That thou artbanilh'dj oh, that is the news, From The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1$ x From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. Val Oh, I have fed upon this woe already 5 And now excels of it wjII make me furfeit. ' Doth Silvia know that I am banifhed? Pro. Ay, ay ; and fhe hath offer'd to the doom, Which unrevers'd ftands in efFe&ual force, A Tea of melting pearl, which fome call tears: Thofe at her father's churlifh feet me tender'd, With them, upon her knees, her humble felf* Wringing her hands, whofe whitenefs fo became them, As if but now they waxed pale for wo. But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad fighs, deep groans, nor filver-ihedding tears, Could penetrate her uncompaffionateSirej But Valentine^ if he be ta'en, mull die. Befides, her interceffion chaPd him fo, When me for thy repeal was fuppliant, That to clofe prifon he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there. Val No more 3 unlefs the next word, that thou fpeak'ft, Have fome malignant power upon my life: If fo, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear, As ending anthem of my endlefs dolour. Pro. Ceafe to lament for that thou canft not help, And ftudy help for that which thou lament'ft. Time is the nurfe and breeder of all good: Here if thou flay, thou canfl not fee thy love 5 Befides, thy flaying will abridge thy life. Hope is a lover's ftaffj walk hence with that* And manage it againfl defpairing thoughts. Thy letters may be here, tho' thou art hence, Which, being writ to me, fliall be deliver'd Ev'n in the milk-white bofom of thy love. The time now ferves not to expoflulate $ Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate j And, ere I part with thee, confer at large Of all that may concern thy love-affairs : As thou lov'fl Silvia, tho' not for thy felf, Regard thy danger, and along with me. Val I pray thee, Launch an if thou feeft my boy, Bid xpt The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. Bid him make hafle, and meet me at the north-gate^ Pro. Go, Sirrah, find him out : come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! haplefs Valentine! {Exeunt Val. and Pro. Laun. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think my matter is a kind of a knave : but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love, yet I am in love 5 but a Team of horfe fhall not pluck that from me, nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman ; but what woman I will not tell my felfj and yet 'tis a milk- maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for {he hath had goffipsj yet 'tis a maid, for fhe is her mailer's maid and lerves for wages : fhe hath more qualities than a wa- ter-fpaniel, which is much in a bare chriftian. Here is the cat -log {Pulling out a paper] of her conditions j imprimis^ (he can fetch and carry ; why, a horfe can do no more $ nay, a horfe cannot fetch, but only carry 5 therefore is Ihe better than a jade. Item, fhe can milk -y look you, a fweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter Speed. Speed. How now, fignior Launce? what news with your mafterfhip ? Laun. With my matter's fhip? why, it is at fea. (11) Speed. Well, your old vice ftill 3 miftake the word ; what news then in your paper? Laun. The blackeft news that ever thou heard'ft. Speed. Why, man, how black ? Laun. Why, as black as ink. Speed. Let me read them. (12) With my Mafterfhip ? why, it is at Sea.~\ Thefe poetical Edi- tors are pleafant Gentlemen to let this pafs without any Sufpicion. For how does Launce miftake the Word ? Speed asks him about his Mafter- fhip, and he replies to it litteratim. But then how was his Mafterfhip at Sea, and on Shore too ? The Addition of a Letter and a Note of Jpqftrophe make Launce both miftake the Word, and fets the Pun right : It reftores, indeed, but a mean Joke ; but, without it, there is no Senfeiti the PafTage. Befides, it is in Character with the reft of the Scene; and I dare be confident, the Poet's own Conceit, The Two Gentlemen of Vefona. 1 5) 5 Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head, thou can'fl not read. Speed. Thou lyeft, I can. Laun. I will try thee j tell me this, who begot thee t Speed. Marry, the fon of my grand- father. Laun. O illiterate loiterer, it was the fon of thy grand-mother ; this proves, that thou canft not read* Speed. Come, fool, come, try me in thy paper. Laun. There^ and S. Nicholas be thy fpeed! Speed. Imprimis, fhe can milk. Laun. Ay, that (he can. Speed. Item, (he brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, BhJJing of $ou¥ hearty you brew good ale. Speed. Item, fhe can fowc. Laun. That's as much as to fay, can fhe fo? Speed. Item, fhe can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a flock with & wench, when fhe can knit him a flock! Speed, Item, £he can wafh and fcour. Laun. A fpecial virtue, for then fhe need not to be wafli'd and fcour'd. Speed. Item, fhe can fpin. Laun. Then may I fet the world on wheels^ when fhe can fpin for her living. Speed. Item, fhe hath many namelefs virtues. Laun. That's as much as to fayj Baftard Virtues % that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore hav£ no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Clofe at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, fhe is not to be kift fatting;, in refpeft bf her breath, Laun, Well, that fault may be mended with a break* faft : read on. Speed. Item, fhe hath a fweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her four breath* Speed. Item, fhe doth talk in her fleep. Laun. It's no matter for that, fo fhe fleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, fhe is flow in words i Vo l. I. Q JLtiun* i94 T&e Two Gentlemen of Verona. Laun. O villain ! that fet down among her vices ! to be flow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, fhe is proud. Laun. Out with that too : it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. Speed. Item-, fhe hath no teeth. Laun. I care not for that neither, becaufe I love crufts. Speed. Item, fhe is curft. Laun. Well > the beft is, fhe hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praife her liquor. Laun. If her liquor be good, fhe fhall j if fhe will not, I will j for good things fhould be praifed. Speed. Item, ihe is too liberal. Laun. Of her tongue fhe cannot > for that's writ down, fhe is flow of j of her purfe fhe fhall not, for that I'll keep fruit* now of another thing fhe may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, fhe hath more hairs than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop here 5 I'll havener* fhe was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that article. Rehearfe that once more. Speed. Item, fhe hath more hair than wit. Laun. More hair than wit, it may be 5 I'll prove it: the cover of the fait hides the fait, and therefore it is more than the fait* the hair, that covers the wit, is more than the wit* for the greater hides the lefs. What's next ? Speed. And more faults than hairs. Laun. That's monftrous : oh, that that were out! Speed. And more wealth than faults. Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious : well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is impoffible ■ Speed. What then? Laun. Why then will I tell thee, that thy mafter flays for thee at the north-gate. Speed. lror me ? Laun. The Two Gentlemen of Verona, i j>j Laun. For thee ? ay * who art thou ? he hath fiaid for a better man than thee. Speed. And muft I go to him ? Laun. Thou muft run to him , for thou haft ftaid fo long, that going will fcarce ferve the turn. Speed. Why didft not tell me fooner ? pok on youf love-letters ! Laun. Now will he be fwing'd for reading my let- ter: an unmannerly flave, that will thruft himfelf into fecrets.— —I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correc- tion. [Exeunt. Enter Duke and Thurio* Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that {he will love you, Now Valentine is banifh'd from her fight. *thu. Since his exile (he hath defpis'd me moft, Forfworn my company, and rail'd at me, That I am defperate of obtaining her. Duke. This weak Imprefs of love is as a figure Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat Diflblves to water, and doth lofe his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts. And worth lefs Valentine fhall be forgot. Enter Prothcus. How now, Sir Protheus? Is your countreyman, According to our proclamation, gone ? Pro. Gone, my good lord. Duke. My daughter takes his going heavily. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe 5 but Thurio thinks not ib. ProtheuS) the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou haft mown fome fign of good defert) Makes me the better to confer with thee. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace, Let me not live to look upon your Grace. Duke. Thou know' ft, how willingly I would eflfe£t. The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord. O z Duke, 1 5>£ The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Duke. And alfo, I do think, thou art not ignorant How (he oppofes her againft my will. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perverfely me perfevers fo. What might we do to make the girl forget The love o£ Valentine, and love Sir Thurio ? Pro. The beft way is to flander Valentine With falihood, cowardice, and poor defcent : Three things, that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but fhe'll think, that it is fpoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it : Therefore it mull, with circumftance, be fpoken By one, whom fhe efteemeth as his friend. . Duke. Then you muft undertake to flander him. Pro: And that, my lord, I mail be loth to do* 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman > Efpecially, againft his very friend. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your flander never can endamage him 5 Therefore the office is indifferent, Being intreated to it by your friend. Pro. You have prevaiPd, my lord: if I can do it, By ought that I can fpeak in his difpraife, She (hall not long continue love to him. But fay, this weed her love from Valentine, (13) It follows not, that fhe will love Sir Thurio. "Thu. Therefore as you unwind her love from him, Left it mould ravel, and be good to none, You muft provide to bottom it on me: Which muft be done, by praifing me as much As you in worth difpraife Sir Valentine. Duke. And, Protheus, we dare truft you in this kind, Becaufe we know, on Valentine' 's report, You are already love's firm votary -, .And cannot foon revolt and change your mind. Upon this warrant, mall you have accefs, [13; But fay, this tveed her Lo-ve ] This Caft of Reafoning very Bear re.embies That of Davus in the Andrta of Terence, A£t 2. Sc. 2. „-, 'Ridicuhim Caput ! Quasi necejfc f.t, Ji huU nan dat, tc Warn uxorem ducere. Where The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 1 97 Where you with Silvia may confer at large : For fhe is lumpifh, heavy, melancholy, And, for your friend's fake, will be glad of you ; Where you may temper her, by your perfuafion, To hate young Valentine^ and love my friend. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect, But you, Sir Thurio, are not fharp enough j You muft lay lime, to tangle her defires, By wailful fonnets, whofe compofed rhimes Should be full fraught with ferviceable vows. Duke. Much is the force of heav'n-bred poefie. Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty You facrifice your tears, your fighs, your heart : Write, 'till your ink be dry $ and wijth your tears Moid it again -y and frame fome feeling line, That may difcover fuch integrity : For Orpheus' lute was fining with poets finews $ Whofe golden touch could foften fteel and ftones, Make tygers tame, and huge Leviathans Forfake unfounded deeps, to dance on fands. After your dire-lamenting elegies, Vifit by night your lady's chamber-window With fome fweet confort : to their inftruments Tune a deploring dump -, the night's dead filence Will well become fuch fweet complaining grievance. This, or elfe nothing, will inherit her. Duke. This difcipline fhews, thou haft been in love. Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice $ Therefore, fweet Protheus9 my direction-giver, Let us into the city prefently To fort fome gentlemen well skill'd in mufick j I have a fonnet, that will ferve the turn, To give the onfet to thy good advice. Duke. About it, gentlemen. Pro. We'll wait upon your Grace, 'till after fupper > And afterwards determine our proceedings. JDuke. Ev'n now about it. I will pardon you. \_Exeunt. O 5 ACT ?*8 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. ACT IV. SCENE, a Foreft, leading towards Mantua. F Enter certain Out- laws. i Out-law. ELLOWS, Hand fail : I fee a paflenger. z Out. If there be ten, fhrink not, but down with 'em. Enter Valentine and Speed. 3 Out. Stand, Sir, and throw us what you have a? bout you } if not, we'll make you, Sir, and rifle you. Speed. Sir, we are undone •> thefe are the villains, that $11 the travellers do fear fo much. Val. My friends, . — - i Out. That's not fo, Sir \ we are your enemies. %Out. Peace j we'll hear him. 3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we \ for he is a proper man. Val. Then know, that I have little Wealth to lofe : A man I am, crofs'd with adverfity \ My riches are thefe poor habiliments, Of which if you fhould here disfurnifli me, You take the fum and fubflance that I have. o. Out. Whither travel you? Val. To Verona. i Out. Whence came you ? Val. From Milan. \Out. Have you long fojourn'd there? VaL Some fixteen months ; and longer might have flaid. If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. i Out. What, were you banifh'd thence? jfifl. I was. 1 OuU The Two Gentlemen of Vexoaa. 1 99 2 Out. For what offence ? Val. For that, which now torments me to rehearfe : I kill'd a man, whofe death I much repent j But yet I flew him manfully in fight, Without falfe vantage or bafe treachery. 1 Out. Why ne'er repent it, if it were done fo. But were you bani(h'd for fo fmall a fault ? Val. I was, and held me glad of fuch a doom. 1 Out. Have you the, tongues ? Val My youthful travel therein made me happy, Or elfe I often had been miferable. 5 Out. By the bare fcalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a King for our wild faction. 1 Out. We'll have him. Sirs, a word. Speed. Mailer, be one of them : it's an honourable kind of thievery. Val. Peace, villain. z Out. Tell us this * have you any thing to take to ? Val. Nothing, but my fortune. 3 Out. Know then, that fome of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thruft from the company of awful men : My felf was from Verona baniihed, For praftifing to fteal away a lady, An heir, and near ally'd unto the Duke. (14) • o 4 zOut. (14) An Heir and neiee allfd unto the Du&e.] Thus all the Jmpre£ fions, from the firft downwards. But our Poet would never have ex* prefs'd himielf fo ftupidly, as to tell us, this Lady was the Duke's Neice> and allyd to him : for her Alliance was, certainly, fufficiently included in the firft Term. Our Author meant to fay, fne was an Heirefs, and near allfd to the Duke : an Expreffion the moft natural that can be for the Purpofe, and very frequently uled by the Stage- Poets. So in Romeo and Juliet. This Gentleman, the Princess near Ally. So in Beaumont and Fletcher 's Sea-Forage. — yet that We may learn Whether they are the fame, or near ally'd To Thofe, that fore d me to this cruel Courfe. So in B. Jonforis Every Man out of his Humour. ' 'fome fuch crofs- and be the captain of us all : We'll do thee homage, and be ruFd by thee y Love thee as our commander, and our King. i Out. But if thou fcorn our courtefie, thou dy'ft. zOut. Thou ihalt not live to brag what we have offer'd. " Pal. I take your offer, and will live with you j Provided, that you do no outrages 0n filly women, or poor paflengers. 3 Out. No, we deteft fuch vile bafe practices. Come, go with us, well bring thee to our crews. And (hew 'thee all the treafure we have got j Which, with our felyes, fhall reft at thy difpofe. [Exeunt. So in Laiv-Trich, by John Day. That notwitbjlanding my Wife's near AUyanc« Unto the Du&e, I purchased a Divorce. And fo in Soliman and Perfeda ; Fly, ere the Governour ba fure as I live, he had fuf- fer'd for't 5 you fhall judge. He thrufts me himfelf in- to the company of three or four gentleman-like dogs, under the Duke's table : he had not been there (blefs the mark) a puling while, but all the chamber fmelt him. Out with the dog, fays one* what cur is that ? fays another 5 whip him out, fays the third* hang him up, fays the Duke. J, having been acquainted with the fmell before, knew it was Crab^ and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs 5 Friend, quoth I, you mean to whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he. You do him the more wrong, quoth I j 'twas I did the thing you wot of. He makes no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many matters would do this for their fervant ? nay, I'll be fworn, I have fat in the flocks for the puddings he hath ftoll'n, otherwife he had been executed -, I have flood on the pillory for the geefe he hath kill'd, otherwife he had fuffer'd for't. Thou think'ft not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you ferv'd me, when I took my leave of Madam Silvia , did not I bid thee ftill mark me, and do as I d3? when didft thou fee me heave up my leg, and make water againft a gentlewoman's farthingale? didft thou ever fee me do fuch a trick ? Enter Protheus and Julia. Pro. Sehaftian is thy name ? I like thee well $ And will imploy thee in fome fervice prefently. Jul. In what you pleafe; I'll do, Sir, what I can. Pro. I hope, thou wilt. — How now, you whorefon peafant, Where have you been thefe two days loitering ? Laun. Marry, Sir, I carry'd miflrefs Silvia the dog, you bad me. Pro. And what fays fhe to my little jewel ? Laun. Marry, fhe fays, your dog was a cur ; and tells you, currifh thanks is good enough for fuch a prefent. Pro. 2,o 8 The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona* Pro. But fhe receiv'd my dog? Latin. No, indeed, fhe did not : here have I brought him back again. Pro. What, didft thou offer her this from me ? Laun. Ay, Sir j the other fquirrel was floll'n from me by the hangman's boy in the market-place -9 and then I offer'd her mine own, who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again into my fight : Away, I fay 5 Hay 'ft thou to vex me here? A flave, that, ftill an end, turns me to fhame. [Exit Laun; Sehaftian, I have entertained thee, Partly, that I have need of fuch a youth $ That can with fome difcretion do my bufihefs : (For 'tis no trufting to yon foolifh lowt :) But, chiefly, for thy face and thy behaviour 5 Which, if my augury deceive me not, Witnefs good bringing up, fortune and truth : Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee. Go prefently, and take this ring with thee* Deliver it to Madam Silvia. She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me. Jul. It feems, you lov*d not her, to leave her token i She's dead, belike. Pro. Not fo : I think, fhe lives. Jul. Alas! Pro. Why do'ft thou cry, alas ? Jul. I cannot chufe but pity hen Pro. Wherefore fliouldft thou pity her? Jul. Becaufe, methinks, that fhe lov'd you as well As you do love your lady Silvia : She dreams on him, that has forgot her love 5 You doat on her, that cares not for your love. aTis pity, love mould be fo contrary > And, thinking on it, makes me cry, alas ! Pro. Well, give her that ring, and give therewithal This letter j that's her chamber: tell my lady, I claim the promife for he.r heav'nly pi&ure. 1 Your Tfoe Two Gentlemen of Verbnl io> Your meflage done, hye home unto my chamber, Where thou fhalt find me fad and folitary. {Ex. Pro.' Jul. How many women would do fuch a meffage? Alas, poor Protheus, thou haft entertained A fox to be the ihepherd of thy lambs : Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him, That with his very heart defpifeth me ? Becaufe he loves her, he defpifeth me j Becaufe I love him, I muft pity him: This Ring I gave him, when he parted from mej To bind him to remember my good will. And now I am, unhappy meffenger, To plead for that, which I would not obtain j To carry that, which I would have refused -, To praife his faith, which I would have difprais'd. I am my matter's true confirmed love, But cannot be true fervant to my mattery Unlefs I proVe falfe traitor to my felf. Yet will I woo for him^ but yet fo coldly, As, heav'n it knows, I would not have him fpeed. Enter Silvia. Lady, good day j I pray you, be my Mean To bring me where to fpeak with Madam Silvia. Sil. What would you with her, if that I be the? Jul. If you be ihe, I do intreat your patience To hear me fpeak the mefTage I am fent on. Sil. From whom ? Jul. From my mafter Sir Protheus, Madam; Sil. Oh ! he fends you for a picture ? Jul Ay, Madam. Sil. Urfuk) bring my picture there. Go, give your matter this : tell him from me$ One Julian that his changing thoughts forget* Would better fit his chamber than this fhadow. Jul. Madam, may't pleafe you to perufe this letter. Pardon me, Madam, I have unadvis'd Deliver'd you a paper that I fhould not 5 This is the letter to your ladyfhip. Sil. 1 pray thee, let me look on that again. Vol I, P Jul % i o The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Jul. It may not be 5 good Madam, pardon me. Sil. There, hold 5 I will not look upon your mailer's lines ; I know, they're ftufft with proteftations, And full of new-found oaths > which he will break, As eafily as I do tear his paper. Jul. Madam, he fends your lady {hip this ring. Sil. The more fhame for him, that he fends it me % For, I have heard him fay a thoufand times, His Julia gave it him at his departure : Tho' hisfalfe finger have prophan'd the ring, Mine fhall not do his Julia fo much wrong. Jul. She thanks you. Sil. Whatfay'ft thou? Jul. I thank you, Madam, that you tender her 5 Poor gentlewoman, my maltev wrongs her much. . Sil. Doft thou know her ? Jul. Almoft as well, as I do know my felf. To think upon her woes, I do proteft, That I have wept an hundred feveral times. Sil. Belike, fhe thinks, that Protheus hath forfook her. Jul. I think, fhe doth 5 and that's her caufeof forrow. Sil. Is fhe not paffing fair ? Jul. She hath been fairer, Madam, than fhe is : When fhe did think, my mafter lov'd her well, She, in my judgment, was as fair as you. But fince "fhe did negleft her looking-glafs, And threw her fun-expelling mafque away j The air hath ftarv'd the rofes in her cheeks, And pinch'd the lilly-tin&ure of her face, That now fhe is become as black as I. Sil. How tall was fhe ? Jul. About my flature : for at Pentecojl,^ When ail our pageants of delight were plaid, Our youth got me to play the woman's part, And I was trim'd in Madam Julia's gown j Which ferved me as fit, by all mens judgments, As if the garment had been made for me; There ore, I know, fhe is about my height. And at that time 1 made her weep a-good, For The Two Gentlemen ofVeioha. ni For I did play a lamentable Part. Madam, 'twas Ariadne ', paflioning For Fhefeus9 perjury and unjuft flight $ Which I fo lively acted with my tears, That my poor miftrefs, moved therewithal, Wept bitterly 5 and, would I might be dead, If I in thought felt not her very forrow ! Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth. Alas, poor lady ! defolate and left ! I wept my felf, to think upon thy words. Here, youth, there is my purfej I give thee this For thy fweet miftrefs' fake, becaufe thou lov'ft her. Farewel. [Exit Silvia. Jul. And fhe fhall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful. I hope, my matter's fuit will be but cold j Since ftie refpects my miftrefs' love fo much. Alas ! how love can trifle with it felf! Here is her picture j let me fee $ I think^ If 1 had fuch a tire, this face of mine Were full as lovely as is this of hers : And yet the Painter flatter'd her a little, Unlefs 1 flatter with my felf too much. Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow. If that be all the difference in his love, I'll get me fuch a colour'd perriwig. Her eyes are grey as Glafs, and fo are mine 5 (16) Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine is high. What fhould it be, that he refpecbs in her, . But I can make refpe&ive in my felf, If this fond love were not a blinded god ? Come, fhadow, come 5 and take this fhadow up $ For 'tis thy rival. O thou fenfelefs form, Thou fhalt be worfhip'd, kifs'd, lov'd and ador'd $ (16) Her Eyes are grey as Grafs.] Mr. Ronve and Mr. Popes Edi- tions, for what Reafon I know not, vary from the old Copies, which kave it rightly, Glafs. So Chaucer, in the Character of his Priorefs » Full femely her Wimple pinchid or elfe, by Jove I vow, I mould have fcratch'd out your unfeeing eyes, To make my mafter out of love with thee. [Exit. A C T V. S C E N E, near the Friar's Cell, in Milan. Enter Eglamour. Eg LAM OUR. TH E fun begins to gild the weftern sky, And now it is about the very hour Silvias at Friar Patrick's cell, mould meet me. She will not fail 5 for lovers break not hours, Unlefs it be to come before their time : So much they ipur their expedition. See, where irie comes. Lady, a happy evening. Enter Silvia. SiL Amen, Amen! Go on, good Eglamour ', Out at the poftern by the Abby-wallj I fear, I am attended by fome fpies. EgL Fear not} the foreft is not three leagues off* If we recover that, we're fure enough. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in the "Duke's T a lace. Enter Thurio, Protheus, and Julia. Thu. Sir Protheus, what fays Silvia to my fuit? Pro. Oh, Sir, I find her milder than me was, And yet [he takes exceptions at your perfon. Thu. The Two Gentlemen 0/ Verona. 2.1 5 fhu. What, that my leg is too long? Pro. No •, that it is too little. 7*bu. I'll wear a boot to make it fomewhat rounder. Pro. But love will not be fpurr'd to what it loaths. ^thu. What fays flie to my face? Pro. She fays, it is a fair one. tfhu. Nay, then the wanton lies 3 my face is black. Pro. But pearls are fair ; and the old faying is, " Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies eyes. Jul. 'Tis true, fuch pearls as put out ladies eves 5 For I had rather wink, than look on them. [_Afide. Thu. How likes {he my difcourfe? Pro. Ill, when you talk of war, fhu. But well, when I difcourfe of love and peace ? Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace. fthu. What (ays fhe to my valour? Pro. Oh, Sir, fhe makes no doubt of that. Jul. She needs not, when fhe knows it cowardice. uiu. What fays fhe to my birth? Pro. That you are well deriv'd. Jul. True-v from a gentleman to a fool. tthu. Confiders fhe my pofTeffions ? Pro. Oh, av, and pities them. Thu. Wherefore? Jul. That fuch an afs fhould own them. Pro. That they are out by leafe. Jul. Here comes the Duke. Enter Duke. Duke. How now, Sir Protheus? how now, ThurieJ Which of you faw Sir Eglamour of late? Tbu. Not I. Pro. Nor I. Duke. Saw you my daughter? Pro. Neither. Duke. Why then She's fled unto that peafant Valentine \ And Eglamour is in her company. 'Tis true -y for Friar Laurence met them both, As he in penance wander'd through the foreit: P 3 Him % 14 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Him he knew well and guefs'd that it was {he* But, being mask'd, he was not fure of it. Befides3 {he did intend confeffion At Patrick's cell this Ev'n, and there fhe was not : Thefe likelihoods confirm her flight from hence. Therefore, I pray you, (land not to difcourfe, But mount you prefently, and meet with me Upon the riling of the mountain-foot That leads tow'rds Mantua^ whither they are fled. Difpatch, fweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit Duke. Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevifh girl, That flies her fortune where it follows her : I'll after, more to be reveng'd of Eglamour^ Than for the love of recklefs Silvia. Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love. Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. Jul. And I will follow, more to crofs that love, ' Than hate for Silvia^ that is gone for love. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Forest. Enter Silvia and Out-laws. Out. f~^ QME, come, be patient 5 we muft bring you %^j to our Captain. Sih A thoufand more mifchances, than this one, Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently. 2 Out. Come, bring her away. 1 Out. Where is the gentleman, that was with her? 3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath out-run us 3 But Moyfes and Valerius follow him. Go thou with her to th'weft end of the wood, There is our captain: follow him, that's fled. The thicket is befet, he cannot 'fcape. 1 Out, Come, I mull bring you to our captain's cave, Fear not 5 he bears an honourable mind, And will not ufe a woman lawlefsly. SiL O Valentine! this I endure for thee. [Exeunt. SCENE The Two Gentlemen of Verona. 215 SCENE, the Out-law's Cave in ^Forest. Enter Valentine. VaL TJ O W ufe doth breed a habit in a man! JLJL This fhadowy defart, unfrequented woods, I better brook than flourifhing peopled towns. Here can I fit alone, unfeen of any, And to the nightingale's complaining notes Tune my diftrefTes, and record my woes. O thou, that doft inhabit in my breait, Leave not the manfion fo long tenantlefs j Left, growing ruinous, the building fall, And leave no memory of what it was. Repair me with thy prefence, Silvia 3 Thou gentle nymph, cherifh thy forlorn fwain. What hallo'ing, and what ftir is this to day? Thefe are my mates, that make their wills their law. Have fome unhappy paflenger in chafe. They love me well, yet I have much to do To keep them from uncivil outrages. Withdraw thee, Valentine : who's this comes here ? Enter Protheus, Silvia, and Julia. Pro. Madam, this fervice have I done for you. (Tho' you refpecl not ought your fervant doth) To hazard life, and refcue you from him, That wou'd have forc'd your honour and your love. Vouchfafe me for my meed but one fair look: A fmaller boon than this I cannot beg, And lefs than this, I'm fure, you cannot give. VaL How like a dream is this, I fee, and hear? Love, lend me patience to forbear a while. \jlfide. SiL O miferable, unhappy that I am ! Pro. Unhappy were you, Madam, ere I came 3 But by my coming I have made you happy. SiL By thy approach thou mak'ft me moft unhappy. JuL And me, when he approacheth to your prefence. [_4fide. P 4 SiL % i & The Two Gentlemen of Verona. SIL Had I been feized by a hungry lion, I would have been a break fa ft: to the beaft, Rather than have fvXk. Protheus refcue mc. Oh, heav'n be judge, how I love Valmtiney Whofe life's as tender to me as my foul > And full as much, for more there cannot be, I do deteft falfe perjur'd Protheus: Therefore be gone, follicit me no more. Pro. What dang'rous aftion, flood it next to death, Would I not undergo for one calm look ? Oh, 'tis the curie in love, and ftill approv'd, When women cannot love, where they're belov'd. Sil. When Protheus cannot love, where he's belov'd. Read over Julia's heart, thy fir ft beft love, For whofe dear fake thou then didft rend thy faith Into a thoufand oaths 3 and all thofe oaths Defcended into perjury, to love me. Thou haft no faith left now, unlefs thou'dft two, And that's far worfe than none: better have none Than plural faith, which is too much by one. Thou counterfeit to thy true friend ! Pro. In love. Who refpects friend? Sil. All men but Protheus. Prd.. Nay, if the gentle fpirit of moving words Can no way change you to a milder form* I'll move you like a foldier, at arms end, And love you 'gainft the nature of love 5 force yc. Sil. Oh heav'n ! Pro. I'll force thee yield to my defire. Fal Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch, Thou friend of an ill fafhion ! Pro. Valentine!- Fal.Thou common friend, that's without faith or love y For fuch is a friend now: thou treach'rous man! Thou haft beguil'd my hopes 5 nought but mine eye, Could have perfuaded me. Now 1 dare not fay, I have one friend, alive > thou wouldft difprove me. Who mould be trufted now, when the right hand Is perjur'd to the boibm? Protheus^ fTbe Two Gentlemen of Verona, z 1 7 I'm forry, I muft never truft thee more, But count the world a flranger for thy lake. The private wound is deepeft. Oh time, molt accurft! 'Mongft all foes, that a friend fhould be the worft! Pro. My fhame and guilt confound me : Forgive me, Valentines if hearty forrow Be a fufficient ranfom for offence, I tender't here 5 I do as truly fuffer, As e'er I did commit. Val. Then I am paid : And once again I do receive thee honeft. Who by repentance is not fatisfy'd, Is nor of heav'n, nor earth \ for thefe are pleas'd * By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd. And that my love may appear plain and free, All, that was mine in Silvia^ I give thee. Jul. Oh me unhappy ! [Swoons. Pro. Look to the boy. Val. Why, boy! how now? what's the nutter? look up j fpeak. Jul. O good Sir, my matter charg'd me to deliver a ring to Madam Silvia^ which, out of my neglect, was never done. Pro. Where is that ring, boy? Jul. Here 'tis : this is it. Pro. How ? let me fee : This is the ring I gave to Julia. Jul. Oh, cry you mercy, Sir, I have miftook y This is the ring you fent to Silvia. Pro. How cam'ft thou by this ring ? at my depart, I gave this unto Julia. Jul. And Julia her felf did give it me. And Julia her felf hath brought it hither. Pro. How, Julia ? Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, And entertain'd 'em deeply in her heart : How oft haft thou with perjury cleft the root ? Oh ProtheuS) let this habit make thee blufh! Be thou afham'd, that I have took upon me Such an immodeft rayment : if fhame live In % i 8 The Two Gentlemen of Verona. In a difguife of love. It is the leffer blot, modefly finds, Women to change their Shapes, than men their minds. Pro. Than men their minds? 'tis true j oh heav'n! were man But conftant, he were perfect $ that one error Fills him with faults j makes him run through all fins : Inconftancy falls off, ere it begins. What is in Silvia's face, but I may fpy More frefh in Julia's with a conftant eye? Val. Come, come, a hand from either : Let me be bleft to make this happy Clofe j 'Twere pity, two fuch friends mould long be foes. Pro. Bear witnefs, heav'n, I have my wifh for ever. Jul. And I mine. Enter Out-laws, with Duke and Thurio. Out. A prize, a prize, a prize ! Val. Forbear, forbear, it is my lord the Duke. Your Grace is welcome to a man difgrac'd. The b.mifh'd Valentine. Duke. Sir Valentine ? Thu. Yonder is Silvia : and Silvia's mine. Val. Thurio^ give back > or elfe embrace thy death : Come not within the meafure of my wrath. Do not name Silvia thine \ if once again, Milan mail not behold thee. Here me ftands, (17) Take but poffeffion of her with a touch \ I dare thee but to breath upon my love, — Thu. Sir Valentine 1 I care not for her, I. I hold him but a fool, that will endanger His body for a girl that loves him not. I claim her not \ and therefore fhe is thine. (17} Verona A*# not hold thee.'] Thus all the Editions, but, whether tW'the Miftake of the nrtf Editors, or the Poet1 s own Carelefsnefs, this Reading is abfurdly faulty. For the Threat here is to Tburio, who is a Milanefe i and has no Concerns, as it appears, with Verona. Befidcs, the Scene is betwixt the Confines of Milan, and Mantua, to which Sit- in* follows Vahnrhte, having heard that he had retreated thither. And, upon thefe Circumftances, I ventur'd to adjuft the Text, as, 1 imagine, the Poet muft have intended: i. c. Milan, thy Country, fi all never fee thee avaw : thoujbalt never live to go bad thithir. Duke The Two Gentlemen of Verona, z i j Duke. The more degenerate and bafe art thou, To make fuch means for her as thou haft done, And leave her on fuch flight conditions. Now, by the honour of my anceftry, I do applaud thy fpirit, Valentine^ And think thee worthy of an emprefs' love : Know then, I here forget all former griefs j Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again, Plead a new ftate in thy unrival'd merit, To which I thus fubfcribe : Sir Valentine? Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd 5 Take thou thy Silvia? for thou haft deferv'd her. Val. I thank your Grace 5 the gift hath made me happy, I now befeech you, for your daughter's fake, To grant one boon that I fliall ask of you. Duke. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be. Val. Thefe banifh'd men, that I have kept witkal, Are men endu'd with worthy qualities : Forgive them what they have committed here, And let them be recall'd from their exile. They are reformed, civil, full of good, And fit for great employment, worthy lord. Duke. Thou haft prevail'd, I pardon them and thee; Difpofe of them, as thou know'ft their deferts. Come, let us go 5 we will include all jars With triumphs, mirth, and all folemnity. Val. And as we walk along, I dare be bold With our difcourfe to make your Grace to fmile. What think you of this Page, my lord? Duke. I think, the boy hath grace in him j he bluihes^ Val. I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy, Duke. What mean you by that faying? Val. Pleafe you, I'll tell you as we pafs along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned. Come, Protheus, 'tis your penance but to hear The itory of your loves difcovered : That done, our day of marriage (hall be yours, Pne feaft, one houfe, oae mutual happinefs. [Exeunt omnes. .j THE ■ IJ I I I U l two Gentlemen* dwelling at Windfor* Mr. Ford, 3 * Sir Hugh Evans, a Welch Par/on* Dr. Caius, a French Dottor. Hoft of the Garter, a merry talking Fellow*. Bardolph,? Piftol, S> Sharper^ attending on Falftaff. Nym, 3 Robin, Page to Falftaff. William Page, a Boy, Son to Mr. Page. Simple, Servant to Slender. Rugby, Servant to Dr. Caius. Mrs. Page, Wife to Mr. Page, Mrs. Ford, Wife to Mr. Ford. Mrs. Anne Page, Daughter to Mr. Page* in Love with Fenton. Mrs. Quickly, Servant to Dr. Caius. Servants to Page, Ford, &c. SCENE, Winifir : and the Parts adjacent. THE ^Merry Wives of Windfor* A C T I. SCENE, before PageV Houfe in Windfor* Enter Juftice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans* Shallow. I R Hugh) perfwade me not -, I will make a Star-Chamber matter of it: if he wer£ twenty Sir John Falfiaffs, he fliall not a- bufe Robert Shallow, Eiqj Slen. In the county of Gloucefier, juftice J of peace, and Coram. ShaU Ay, coufin Slender, and Cuftalorum. {i) The Merry Wives of Windfor.] Queen Elizabeth was fo well pleasM with the admirable Character of Faljiaff in the Two Parts of Henry IV, that, as Mr. Ro and, I befeech you, be ruled by your well-wifhers. I will peat the door [Knocks ."] for mafler Page* What, hoa ? Got blefs your houfe here. Enter Mr. Page. Page. Who's there ? Eva. Here is Got's plefling, and your friend, and Juftice Shallow, and here's young mailer Slender -y that, peradventures, fhall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings. Page. I am glad to fee your worfhips well. I thank you for my venifon, mafler Shallow. Shah Mafler Page, I am glad to fee you $ much good do it your good heart : I winVd your venifon better •, it was ill kill'd. How doth good miitrefs Page ? and I thank you always with my heart, la* with my heart. Page. Sir, I thank you, Vol. I. CL Shah ii6 The Merry Wives of Windfor. Shal Sir, I thank youj by yea and no, I do. Paze. I am glad to fee you, good mafter Slender. Slen. How do's your fallow greyhound, Sir? L heard fay, he was out-run on Cot/ale. Paze. It could not be judg'd, Sir. - Slen. You'll not confers, you'll not confers. Sbal That he will not, 'tis your fault, 'us your fault} 'tis a good dog. Paze A cur» Sir. Shal. Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog, can there be more faid ? he is good and fair. Is Sir John Falfiaf Crpage. Sir, he is within ; and I would, I could do a good office between you. Eva It is fpoke, as a chnftians ought to fpeak. Sbal. He hath wrong'd me, mafter Page. Pase. Sir, he doth in fome fort confeis it. Shal If it be confefs'd, it is not redrefs d } is not that fo, mafter Page? he hath wrong'd me , indeed, he hath-, at a word, he hath} believe me, Robert Shal- low Efquire faith, he is wrong'd. Page. Here comes Sir John. Enter Sir John Falftaff, Bardolph, Nym and Piftol. Fal. Now, mafter Shallow, you'll complain of me to 1 W/"SKnight, you have beaten my men, kill'd my deer, and broke open my lodge. Fal. But not kifs'd your keeper s daughter. Sbal Tut, a pin} this {hall be anfwer d. JW.' I will anfwer it ftrait : I have done all thu. That is now anfwer'd. . Shal The Council (hall know this. Fal. 'Twere better for you, if 'twere not known in Council •, you'll be laugh'd at. Eva. Pima verba, Sir John, .good worts. ft/ Good worts? good cabbage. Slender, 1 broke your head: what matter have you aga.nft me? V/«i v arrv, Sir, 1 have matter in my head aga nit you, and agamic your cony-catching rafcals, Bardolph Wym, and I'ijhl. The Merry Wives of Windfor* izf Bar. You Banbury cheefe ! Slen. Ay, it is no matter. Pift. How now, Mephoftophilus? Slen. Ay, it is no matter. Nym. Slice, I fay* pauca9 pauca : flice* that's my humour. Slen. Where's Simple, my man? can you tell, coufin? Eva, Peace : I pray you : now let us underftand , there is three umpires in this matter, as I underftand $ that is, mafter Page , fidelicet9 mafter Page 5 and there is my felf > fidelicet9 my felf s and the three party isj laftly and finally, mine Holt of the Garter. Mr. Page. We three to hear it, and end it between them. Eva. Ferry goot> I will make a prief of it in rriy note-book, and we will afterwards ark upon the caufe with as great difcreetiy as we can. Fal Piftol,- Pift. He hears with cars. Eva. The tevil and his tarn ! what phrafe is this, he hears with ear ? why, it is affectations. Fal. Piftol, did you pick mafter S lender's purfe ? Slen. Ay, by thefe gloves^ did he •> (or I would I might never come in mine own great chamber again elfe,) of feven groats in mill-fixpences, and two Edward fhovel- boards, that coft me two (hilling and two pence a-piece^ of Ye ad Miller ', by thefe gloves. Fal. Is this true, Piftol? Eva. Noj it is falfe, if it is a pick-purfe; Pift. Ha, thou mountain foreigner! Six John, and mafter mine, I Combat challenge of this latten bilboe : (3) Q. * Word -(3) / combat challenge of this Latin bilboe"] Our modern Editors have diftinguifiVd this Word, Latin, in Italic Characters, as if it was ad- drefs'd to Sir Hugh, and meant to call him pedantic Blade, on account of his being a Schoolmafter, and teaching Latin. But I'll be bold to fay, in. This they do not take the Poet's Conceit. Piftol barely calls Sir Hugh Mountain-foreigner, becaufe he had interpos'd in the Difpute: but then immediately demands the Combat of Slender, for having charg'd him with picking his Pocket. The old Quarto"* write it Letter., as it 2.2 8 The Merry Wives of Windfor. ihould be, in the common Characters : And, as a Proof that the Author defign'd This Ihould be addrefs'd to Slender, Sir Hugh does not there interpofe one Word in the Quarrel. But what then ilgnifies — latten Bilbo ? Why, Piftol feeing Slender fuch a Aim, puny, Wight ; would intimate, that he is as thin as a Plate of that compound Metal, which is call'd latten : and which was, as we are told', the Old Or/-* chalc. Monheur Dacier, upon this Verfe in Horace's Epiitle de Arte Poeticd, Tibia non ut nunc Orichalco of this Stone, adds, If it be burnt with a certain Earth, it melts to a counterfeit Silver : which Earth, having Brafs mingled with it, comes to that compounded Metal which fome call Orichalc. » nryii- KclCvq-cl yeiKKov to xcLXv/uSpov yivi^) KPA'MA. OT/fSJ Of&ydhKW xo.AkV/. The old GloiTaries likewife have, Aurichalca, K^fjLctTtvet : which Junius in his Book, De PiSlurd Veterum, corrects to K P A' M A T I : But Martinius, I find, difapproves of the Correction. Thefe Quotations, 1 think, are fomewhat in Support of the Conjecture I have ofFer'd. A Word to the Paifage quoted from Strabo, and I ihall difmifc this Criticifm. Cafaubon very juftly objects to the Tautology of to x.a.A*[wov, & brivce KdKzGt. He thinks, either fomething is wanting after ^Axjugt'ov : or that it ihould beexpung'd. If I am not miftaken, Strabo might have wrote, with the Change only of one Letter, to H&hov {J$p ov-yivi") Kpct-fXc , perpulchra quidem fit Mixtura: i. e. amoft beautiful. Compound is prcduced. The Orichalc, we know, was fo bright a. Metal, that, as Ifidore fays, it had the Splendor of Gold, and the Hardnefs of Brafs : and Pliny tells us, It was put under fome Chry- iolitei., as a Fci)» to aflut their Luflre. Word "The Merry Wives of Windfor. ^^^ Word of denial in thy Labrcfs here ; Word of denial ; froth and fcum, thou ly'ft. Slen. By thefe gloves, then 'twas he. Nym. Be advis'd, Sir, and pafs good humours : I will fay marry trap with you, if you run the bafe hu- mour on me; that is the very note of it. Slen. By this hat, then he in the red face had it 5 for tho' I cannot remember what I did when you made me drunk, yet I am not altogether an afs. Fal. What fay you, Scarlet and John ? Bard. Why, Sir, for my part, I fay, the gentleman had drunk himfelf out of his five fentences. Eva. It is his five fenfes: fie, what the Ignorance is! Bard. And being fap, Sir, was, as they fay, caihier'd -, and fo conclufions pall the car-eires. Slen. Ay, you fpake in Latin then too j but 'tis no matter 3 HI never be drunk whilfl I live again, but in honeft, civil, godly company, for this trick: if I be drunk, I'll be drunk with thofe that have the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves. Eva. So Got udg me, that is a virtuous mind. Fal. You hear all thefe matters deny'd, gentlemen j you hear it. Enter Mijlrefs Anne Page, 'with wine. Page, Nay, daughter, carry the wine in •, we'll drink within. [_Exit Anne Page. Slen. Oh heav'n ! this is miftrefs Anne Page. Enter Miftrefs Ford and Miftrefs Page. Page. How now, miftrefs Ford? Fal. Miftrefs Ford^ by my troth, you are very well met j by your leave, good miftrefs. \J^lJfing her. Page. Wife, bid thefe gentlemen welcome: come, we have a hot venifon pafty to dinner; come, gentle- men; I hope, we fhall drink down all unkindnefs. [Ex. Fal. Page, fciV. Q 3 Manent % 3 © The Merry Wives of Windfbr . Manent Shallow, Evans, and Slender. Slen. I had rather than forty fliillings, I had my book of fangs and fqnnets here. Enter Simple. How now, Simple^ where have you been ? I muft wait on my felt, muft I ? you have not the book of riddles about you, have you ? Simp. Book of riddles ! why, did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake (4) upon All-hallqwrnas laft, a fortnight afore Martlemas? Shal. Come, coz , come, coz 5 vye flay for you : a word with you, coz : marry this, coz $ there is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by £ir Hugh here 5 clo you underftand me? §len. Ay, Sir, yoii ftiall find me reafoqable: if \t be fo, I iliall do that that is reafon. Shal. Nay, but underftand me. Slen, §q I do? §ir. Eva. Give ear to his motions, Mr. Slender : I will £efcription the matter to you, if you be capacity of '%tf ■ Sle%. Nay, I will do, as my coufin Shallow fays : I pray you, pardon me 5 he's a Juftice of peace in his country, fimple thq' I ftand here. Eva: But that is not the queftion : the queftion is concerning your marriage. Shal. "Ay , there's the point, Sir. Eva. Marry, is it 5 the very point of it, to Mrs. Anne. Page* (4) Upon Allhallowmas laft, a fortnight afore Michaelmas.] Sure, Simple^ a little out in his Reckoning. Allhallovomas is almoit five Weeks after Michaelmas. But may it not be urg'd, it is defign'd, Sim- ple {hoiild appear thus ignorant, to keep up Character? I think, not. The fimpleit Creatures (nay, even Naturals) generally are very precife in the Knowledge* of FetHvals, and marking how the Seafons run : And (uerefore I have ventur'd to fufpecl, our Poet wrote Martlemas, as the Vulgar call it ; which is nea,r a fortnight after All Saints Day, i. e. ele- mi Da;*;, bo;h indtifive. SUn.. The Merry Wives of Windfbr. z 3 1 Slen. Why, if it be fo, I will marry her upon any reafonable demands. Eva. But can you affection the 'oman? let us com- mand to know that of your mouth, or of your lips > for divers philofophers hold, that the lips is parcel of the mind: therefore precifely, can you carry your good ! will to the maid ? ShaL Coufin Abraham Slender^ can you love her ? Slen. I hope, Sir 5 I will do, as it fhall become one that would do reafon. Eva. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies, you muft fpeak poffitable, if you can carry her your defires to- wards her. ShaL That you muft : will you, upon good dowry, marry her? Slen, I will do a greater thing than that upon your requeft, coufin, in any reafon, ShaL Nay, conceive me, conceive me, fweet coz j what I do, is to pleafure you, coz : can you love the maid? Slen. I will marry her, Sir, at your requeft : but if there be no great love in the beginning, yet heav'n may decreafe it upon better acquaintance, when we are marry'd, and have more occafion to know one ano- ther : (f) I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt : hut if you fay, marry her, \ will marry her, that I am freely diflblved, and difToltrtely. Eva. It is a ferry difcretion anfwer \ fave, the fall is in th' prt diffblutely : the ort is, according to our mean- ing, refolutely\ his meaning is good. ShaL Ay, I think, my coufin meant well. Slen. Ay, or elfe I would I might be hang'd, la. (5) I hope •, upon Familiarity will grow more Content.] Certainly, the Editors in their Sagacity have murtherM a Jeft here, it is defign*d, no Doubt, that Slender fhould fay de-creafe, inftead of increafe ; and dif- fol-ved and diffblutely, inftead of refolved and refolutely : but to make him fay, on the prefent Occafion, that upon Familiarity will grow more Content, inftead of Contempt, is di&rming the Sentiment of all its Salt and Humour, and difappoin.ting the Audience of a reasonable Caufe ftr daughter. Q.4 Enter x 5 i The Merry Wives of Windfor. Enter Miftrefs Anne Page. Shah Here comes fair miftrefs Anne : would I were young for your fake, miftrefs Anne. Anne. The dinner is on the table 5 my father defires your worfhip's company. Shah I will wait on him, fair miftrefs Anne. Eva. Od's plefled will, I will not be abfence at the Grace. [Ex. Shallow and Evans. Anne. Will't pleafe your worihip to come in, Sir? Slen. No, I thank you, forfooth, heartily j I am very well. Anne. The dinner attends you, Sir. Slen. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forfooth. Go, Sirrah, for all you are my man, go wait upon my coufin Shallow : [_Ex. Simple.] a Juftice of peace fome- time may be beholden to his friend for a man. I keep but three men and a boy yet, 'till my mother be dead; but what though, yet I live like a poor gentleman born. Anne I may not go in without your worfhip 5 they will not fit, 'till you come. Slen. I'faith, I'll eat nothings I thank you as much as though I did. Anne.. I pray you, Sir, walk in. Slen. I had rather walk here, I thank you : I bruis'd my fhin th'other day with playing at fword and dag- ger with a mafter of fence, three veneys for a difh of itew'd prunes 5 and, by my troth, I cannot abide the fmell of hot meat fince. Why do your dogs bark fo? be there, Bears i'th' town ? Anne. I -think, there are, Sir 3 I heard them talk'd of. Slen. I love the fport well, but I fhall as foon quar- rel at it as any man in England. You are afraid, if you fee the bear loofe, &re you not? Anne. Ay, indeed, Sir. Slen, That's meat and drink to Ave nowj I have {een Sackerfan loofe twenty times, and have taken him by the chain j but, I warrant you, the women have fo cry'd ar.d thriek'd a.t it, that it paft ; but women, indeed, The Merry Wives of Windfor. 233 indeed, cannot abide 'em, they are very ill-favour'd rough things. Enter Mr. Page. Page. Come, gentle Mr. Slender, come* we flay for you. Slen. I'll eat nothing, I thank you, Sir. Page. By cock and pye, you {hall not chufe, Sir j come j come. Slen. Nay, pray you, lead the way. Page. Come on, Sir. Slen. Miftrefs Anne, your felf fhall go firft. Anne. Not I, Sir j pray you, keep on. Slen. Truly, I will not go firft, truly-la: I will not do you that wrong. Anne. I pray you, Sir. Slen. I'll rather be unmannerly, than troublefome; you do your felf wrong, indeed-la. {Exeunt. Re-enter Evans and Simple. Eva. Go your ways, and ask of Doftor Cflius' houfe which is the way > and there dwells one miftrefs Quickr ly9 which is in the manner of his nurfe, or his dry nurfe, or his cook, or his laundry, his waflier, and his wringer. Simp. Well, Sir. Eva. Nay, it is petter yet 5 give her this letter; for it is a o'man that altogethers acquaintance with mif- trefs Anne Page 5 and the letter is to defire and re- quire her to folicit your matter's defires to miftrefs Anne Page : I pray you, be gone 5 . I will make an end of my dinner/ there's pippins and cheefe |:o come. [Exeunt feverally. S.C E N E changes to the Garter-Inn. Enter Falftaff, Hoft, Bardolph, Nym,Piftol and Robin. Pal. *\fl I N E hoft of the garter, • IVl Hoft. What fays my bully rock ? fpcak fchollarly, and wifely, Fa\% 2j4 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Fal. Truly, mine hoft, I muft turn away fomc of my followers. Hoft. Difcard, bully Hercules^ cafhierj let them wag j trot, trot. Fal. I fit at ten pounds a week. Hoft. Thou'rt an Emperor, Cuic. \T7HAT, John Rugby! I pray thee, go to VV the cafement, a^nd fee if you can fee my mafter, matter Doctor Caius^ coming > if he do, i'faith, and find any body in the houfe, here will be old abu- fing of God's patience, and the King's Englijh. Rug. I'll go watch. \_Exit Rugby. §)uic. Go, and we'll have a pofTet for't foon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a fea-coal fire. An honeft, willing, kind fellow, as ever fervant fhall come in houfe withaf 5 and, I warrant you, no tell-tale, nor (8) / will pojfefs hint with jealoufies, for this re-volt of mine is dan- gerous :] This is the Reading of the modern Editions ; the old Co- pies have it, Yellownefs ; i. e. the Symptom of Jealoufy. So Beatrice, in Much Ado about Nothing, fpeaking of Claudio's having jealous Sus- picions, fays ; 'The Count is neither fad, nor Jick, nor merry, nor well; but. civil, Count ; civil, as an Orange j and fomething of that jealous Complexion! Again, This revolt of mine, &c. If Nym fpeaks this of himfelf, he fpeaks very improperly, to call it a Revolt, when he is difcarded by his Mailer. The old Copies read, as I have reflor'd in the Text ; and the Revolt of mine, I take to lignify the Change of Complexion. And then Nym mull mean, I will make him fo jealous, till he changes Colour with its Working ; and then it will break out into fome violent Effects, that will be dangerous to Falftaff. For Mine (or Mien, as it is more generally written,) does not only lignify, the Air, Gejiure, and Bearing of any Perfon ; but likewife the Look and Turn of Countenance ; Oris Species ; nativa wiltus Compoftio : •■■ — ■ Vifage bon, ou mawvais, quon fait paroitre aux gens felon quits nous plaifent, &C. as Richelet explains it: that Look, or Turn of Countenance, which we fhew to People, according as they pleafe us, Or not. Our Author, in other places, takes notice of the Change of Colour to be a Symptom of Anger, Envy, &c. as it certainly is in Nature, according to the Spring of thac Paffion which excites it. no i 5 8 The Merry Wives of Windfbr* no breed-bate $ his worft fault is, that he is given tri pray'r $ he is fomething peevifh that way; but no body but has his fault } but let that pafs. Peter Simple^ you fay, your name is. Slim. Ay, for fault of a better.'1 ijfoiic. And mafter Mender's ybiir mafter? Sim. Ay, forfooth. Quic. Does he not wear a great round beard, like * glover's paring-knife ? Sim. No, forfooth 5 he hath but a little wee-face, with a little yellow beard, (9) a C^/^colour'd beard. §)uic. A foftly-fprighted man, is he not ? Sim. Ay, forfooth * but he is as tall a man of hii hands, as any is between this and his head : he hath fought with a warrenef . ghtic. How fay you ? oh, I fliould remember him 5 does he not hold Up his head, as it were ? and ftrut in his gate? Sim. Yes, indeed, does he. Quic. Well, heav'n fend Anne Page no worfe fortune ! Tell mafter parfon Evans^ I will do what I can for your mafter: Anne is a good girl$ arid I wifli — 4 Enter Rugby. Rug. Out, alas ! here comes my mafter. ghtic. We ftiall all be fhent 5 run in here, good young man 5 go into this clofet j \_Jhuts Simple in the clofet ~\ He will not ftay long. What, John Rugby I John / what, John, I fay > go, John^ go enquire for my mafter j I dotlbt, he be not well, that he comes not home : and down, down, a- down- a, See. [Sings. Enter Docior Caius. Caitts. Vat is you fing ? I do not like des toys ; pray you, go and vetch me in my clofet un boitier verd \ a (9) A czne-co/ourd beard.] Thus the latter Editions. I have reftor'd with the old Copies. Cain and Judas, in the Tapeilries and Pidturw wf old, were reprefented with yellovi Beards* box, The Merry Wives of Windfbr. i$ ? box, a green-a box -, do intend vat I (peak ? a green-a box. Quic. Ay, forfooth, I'll fetch it you. I am glad, he went not in himfelf $ if he had found the man, he would have been horn-mad, [Afide. Caius. Fe,fe, fe, fe, ma foi, il fait fort chaud;je me'n mie a la Cour' la grande affaire. Quic. Is it this, Sir? Cains. Ouy, mettezle au mon pocket $ DepSch§z, quick- ly j ver is dat knave Rugby ? §uic. What, John Rugby ! John! Rug. Here, Sir. Gains. You are John Rugby, and you are Jack Rugby 5 come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to the Court. Rug. 'Tis ready, Sir, here in the porch. Cains. By my trot, I tarry too long : od's me : Que ay je oublie ? dere is fome fimples in my clofet, dat I will not for the varld I fhall leave behind. §hfic. Ay-me, he'll find the young man there, and be mad. Cains. O Diable> Diable ! vat is in my clofet ? villaine, Larron ! Rugby, my rapier. \Pulls Simple out of the clofet. 6)uic. Good mafter, be content. Caius. Wherefore fhall I be content-a? S>)uic. The young man is an honeft man. Caius. What fliall de honeft man do in my clofet ? dere is no honeft man, dat fhall come in my clofet. 6)uic. I befeech you, be not fo flegmatick $ hear the truth of it. He came of an errand to me from parfoa Hugh. Caius. Veil. Sim . Ay, forfooth, to defire her to ■ §)uic. Peace, I pray you. Cains. Peace-a your tongue, fpeak-a your tale. Sim. To defire this honeft gentlewoman, your maid, to fpeak a good word to miftrefs Anne Page for my mafter in the way of marriage. 6)uic. This is all, indeed-laj but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, aad need not. Caius* z4o The Merry Wives 0/ Windfbr. Caius. Sir Hugh fend-a-you ? Rugby ^ (10) baillez me fome paper j tarry you a little-a- while. Sjhfic. I am glad, he is fo quiet j if he had been thoroughly moved, you fhould have heard him fo loud, and fo melancholy : but notwithftanding, man, I'll do for your mafter what good I can 5 and the very yea and the no is, the French Do&or my mafter, (1 may call him my mafter, look you, for I keep his houfe, and I wafh, wring, brew, bake, fcour, drefs meat and drink, make the beds, and do all my felf.) Simp. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand. §)uic. Arc you a-vis'd o' that ? you (hall find it a great charge ; and to be up early and down late. But notwithftanding, to tell you in your ear, I would have no words of it, my mafter himfelf is in love with mif- trefs Anne Page; but, notwithftanding that, I know Anne's mind, that's neither here nor there. Caius. You jack'nape* give a this letter to Sir Hugh j by gar, it is a fhallenge : I will cut his troat in de parke, and I will teach a fcurvy jack-a-nape prieft to meddle or make you may be gone * it is not good you tarry here> by gar, I will cut all his two ft ones j by gar he fhall not have a ftone to trow at his dog. {Exit Simple. Quic. Alas, he fpeaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no mattef'a ver dat : do you not tell-a- me, dat I {hall have Anne Page for my felf? by gar, I vill kill de jack prieft > and I have appointed mine hoft of de Jarterre to meafure our weapon j by gaf, I will my felf have Anne Page. (10) Ballow me fome Taper ;] Thus alt the Editions hitherto : and, I fuppofe, the Editors thought this a defignM Corruption of the Word borrow. But are we to imagine the Poet's Doclor had not a Scrap of Paper in his Houfe, but mull fend out to borrow fome? As Caius is reprefented a F) encbman, and generally fpeaks half French, half Englifb, it is much more probable to believe, our Author wrote, Baillez me fome Paper, i. e. fetch, bring, give me fome. So the French fay, Bail- lez la main, Give me your hand j Bailler une ocillade, to give One the Wink, £if<\ Quic. The Merry Wtves of Windfbr. i\i Quic. Sir, the maid loves you, and all fhall be well : we muft give folks leave to prate 5 what, th£ good-jer ! Cuius, Rughy^ come to the Court with me 3 by- gar, if I have not Anne Page, I fhall turn your head out of my door $ — follow my heels, Rugby. [_Ex>. Caius and Rugby. §)uic. You fhall have An fools-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that 5 never a Woman in IVindfor knows more of Anne's mind than I do, nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heav'n. Pent, [within^ Who's within there, hoa ? §)uic. Who's there, I trow? come near the houfql pray you. Enter Mr. Fenton. Pent. How now, good woman, how doft thou? §)uic. The better, that it pleafes your good worfhip to ask. Pent. What news? how does pretty miftrefs Anne? Gfriic. In truth, Sir, and fhe is pretty^ and honeft, and gentle 5 and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way, I praife heav'n for it. Pent. Shall I do any good, think'ft thou ? fhall I not lofe my fuit? Quic. Troth, Sir, all is in his hands above j but not- withftanding, mailer Fenton, I'll be fworn on a book, fhe loves you : have not your worfhip a wart above your eye? Pent. Yes, marry, have I ; and what of that? Quic. Well, thereby hangs a tale ; good faith, it is fuch another Nan\ but, I deteft, an honeft maid as ever broke bread ^ we had an hour's talk of that wart : I fhall never laugh but in that maid's company ! but, indeed, fhe is given too much to allicholly and mufing % but for you • Well go to — Pent. Well, I fhall fee her to day j hold, there's tnony for thee : let me have thy voice in my behalf* if thou feeft her before me, commend me — — 14* The Merry Wives of Windfor. Quic. Will I ? ay, faith, that we will : and I will tell your worfhip more of the wart, the next time we hav« confidence, and of other wooers. Fen. Well, farewel, I am in great hafte now. [Exit. Quic. Farewel to your worihip. Truly, an honeft; gentleman, but Anne loves him not ; I know Anne's mind as well as another does. Out upon't, what have I forgot ? [Exit. ACT II. SCENE, before Page'* houfe. Enter Mrs. Page, with a letter. W Mrs. Page. HAT, have I 'fcap'd love-letters in the holy-day-time of my beauty, and am I now a fubjeft for them ? let me fee : Ask me no reafon, why I love you > for tW love ufe rea - fin for his precifian, he admits him not for his counfellor : you are not youngs no more am I; go to then, there's fym* pat by : you are merry, fo am I; ha! ha! then there* 3 more fympathy ; you love fack, and fo do I ; would you de- fire better fympathy ? let it fuffice tbee,. mi/lrefs Page, at the leafl if the love of a f oldie r can fuffice, that I love thee. I will not fay, pity me, "'tis not a jo Idler -like phrafey but I fay, love me : By me, thine own true Knight, by day or night, Or any kind of light, with all bis might, for thee to fight. John Falftaff. Wh.it a Herod of Jury is this? O wicked, wicked world ! one that is well nigh worn to pieces with age* to ftxow hiroftlf a young gallant! what unweigh'd be- haviour- The Merry Wives of Wind for. ±4$ naviour hath this Flemijlo drunkard pickt, i'th9 devils name, out of my converfation, that he dares in this manner afTay me? why, he hath not been thrice in my company : what fhould I fay to him ? I was then fru- gal of my mirth, heav'n forgive me : why, I'll exhibit (n) a Bill in the Parliament for the putting down of fat men: how fhall I be reveng'd on him? for re* veng'd I will be, as fure as his guts are made of pud- dings. Enter Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Ford. Miftrefs Page^ truft me, I was going to your houfe. Mrs. Page. And truft me, I was coming to you> you look very ill. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I'll ne'er believe that 5 I have to fliew to the contrary. Mxs. Page. 'Faith, but you do, in my mind. Mrs. Ford. Well, I do then ; yet I fay, I could (hew you to the contrary : O miftrefs Page^ give me fome counfel. Mrs. Page. What's the matter, woman? Mrs. Ford. O woman! if it were not for one trifling fefpecl:, I could come to fuch honour. Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle^ woman, take the ho- nour 3 what is it? difpenfe with trifles* what is it? Mrs. Ford. If I would but gb~ to hell for an eternal moment, or fo, I could be knighted. Mrs. Page. What, thou lieft ! Sir Alice Ford ! thefe Knights will hack, and fo thou fhouldft not alter the article of thy gentry. (11) — a hill in the Parliament for the putting dove, for his fake : And he is cail'd, the fat Enigh:, ihegrea/f Knight, by the Women, throughout the Play. R i Mrs, 244 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Mrs. Ford. We burn day-light ; here, read, read; perceive, how I might be knighted : I {hall think the worfe of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's liking j and yet he would not fwear ; prais'd women's modefty ; and gave fuch or- derly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomelinefs, that I would have fworn his difpofition would have gone to the truth of his words j but they do no more adhere, and keep place together, than the hundredth Pfalm to the tune of Green Sleeves. What tempeft, I trow, threw this whale, with fo many tun of oyl in his belly, a'tfiore at Windfor? how ihall I be reveng'd on him ? I think, the belt way were to entertain him with hope, 'till the wicked fire of luft have melted him in his own greafe. Did you ever hear the like? Mrs. Page. Letter for letter, but that the name of Page and Ford differs. To thy great comfort in this myflery of ill opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy I letter ; but let thine inherit firft, for, I proteft, mine never ihall. I warrant, he hath a thoufand of thefe letters, writ with blank-fpacefor different names 5 nay, more ; and thefe are of the fecond edition: he will print them out of doubt, for he cares not what he pins into the prefs, when he would put us two. I had rather be a giantefs, and lye under mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lafcivious turtles, ere one chafte man. Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very fame, the very hand, the very words ; what doth he think of us ? - Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not ; it makes me almoft ready to wrangle with mine own honefty. I'll enter- tain my felf like one that I am not acquainted withal; for, fure, unlefs he knew fome Strain in me, that I know not my felf, he would never have boarded me in this fury. Mrs. Ford. Boarding, call it you ? I'll be fure to keep him above deck. i Mrs. Page. So will I; if he come under my hatches, 111 never to fea again. Let's be reveng'd on him; let's appoint him a meeting, give him a fhow of com- fort The Merry Wives of Windfor. 245 fort in his fuit, and lead him on with a fine baited delay, 'till he hath pawn'd his horfes to mine Hoft of the Garter. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will confent to a£t any villany againft him, that may not fully the charinefs of our honefty : oh, that my husband faw this letter! it would give eternal food to his jealoufie. Mrs. Page. Why, look, where he comes, and my good man too ; he's as far from jealoufie, as I am from giving him caufe ; and that, I hope, is an unmeafura- ble diftance. Mrs. Ford. You are the happier woman. Mrs. Page. Let's confult together againft this greafie Knight. Come hither. {they retire. Enter Ford wZ/APiftol, Page with Nym. Ford. Well, I hope, it be not fo. Pift. Hope is a curtal-dog in fome affairs. Sir John affects thy wife. Ford. Why, Sir, my wife is not young. Pift. He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor, Both young and old, one with another, Ford-9 He loves thy gally-mawfry, Ford, perpend. Ford. Love my wife ? Pift. With liver burning hot : prevent, or go thou, like Sir Acleon, he, with Ring- wood at thy heels — O, odious is the name. Ford. What name, Sir? Pift. The horn, 1 fay : farewel. Take heed, have open eye -, for thieves do foot by night. Take heed ere fummer comes, or cuckoo-birds affright. Away, Sir corporal Nym. Believe it, Page, he fpeaks fenfe. {Exit Piftol. Ford. 1 will be patient; I will find out this, Nym. And this is true: I like not the humour of lying ; he hath wrong'd me in fome humours : I mould have born the humour'd letter to her ; but I have a fword, and it fhall bite upon my necefficy. He loves your wife j there's the more and the long. My & $ name *4^ The Merry Wives of Windfor. pame is Corporal Nym ; I fpeak, and I avouch ; 'tis true : my name is Nym, and Falftaff loves your Wife. Adieu; I love not the humour of bread and cheefe : adieu. [£x;/Nym. Page. The humour of it, quoth a' ! here's a fellow, frights humour out of its wits. Ford. 1 will fcek out Falftaff. Page. I never heard fuch"' a drawling, afFec~bing rogue. Ford, If I do find it: well. Page, (n) I will not believe fuch a. Catalan, tho' the prieft o'th' town commended him for a true man. Ford. 'Twas a good lcnfible fellow: well. Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forwards. Page. How now, Meg? Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George? hark you. Mrs. Ford. How now, iweet Frank, why art thou melancholy? Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. Get you, home, go. Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou haft fome crotchets in thy head. Nowa will you go, miiirefs Paget (i 2) / ivill not believe fuch a Catalan, tho\ &C.J This is a Piece of Satire, that did not want its Force at the time of tuis Play's appearing; tho the Hiftory, on which it is grounded, is become obiblete, and loit to general knowledge. In the Year 1575, Captain Martin Frobijber (who was afterwards knighted, for Services againil the Spanijb Armada ;) being furniin'd with Adventurers to the Project, fet out upon his Difco- V«f of a PalTage to Cataia, near China, by the North- weft Seas. Ha- yipg iail'd fixty Degrees North-weft beyond 'Friejland, he came to Land upon a Place inhabited by Savages, from whence he brought a piece of black Stone, like Sea- Coal, which, upon his Return, being affay'd by the Goldfmiths, was judg'd to be very rich in Gold- Ore. This encou- raged him toafecond Voyage thither die nextSeafon; when he freighted tv.o Yefiels home with this black Stone : and in 1578, his Project was lo rifen in Credit, that he fet fail a third time with fifteen good Ships ; and freighted them all, homewards, out of the fame Mines. But, to lee the odd Fate that too often attends fuch Discoveries ! Tho' the Pro- fpecl of immenfe Trealures was at firft fo plaufible, that it was given out with Certainty, Cai* 'a W9& Salomons Ophir ; yet, on a fevere Trial, this boated Gold-Ore provd to be meer Drofs : and that falling {hort of the expected Value, and the Adventurers of their expected Gain?, the Project fell fo low in Repute, that Catalans and Frobtjhers became By-words for «ch vain Boalcers, as promis'd more than tin v couid make out, and therefore deferv'd not to be credited. Mrs. The Merry Wives of Windfor. 247 Mrs. Page. Have with you. You'll come to dinner, George? Look, who comes yonder; fhe mall be our meffenger to this paukry Knight. Enter Miftrefs Quickly. Mrs. Ford. Truft me, I thought on her, fhe'll fit it. Mrs. Page. You are come to fee my daughter Anne? Ghiic. Ay, forfooth \ and, I pray, how docs good miftrefs Anne ? * Mrs. Page. Go in with us, and fee ; we have an hour's talk with you. [_Ex. Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quic. Page. How now, mailer Ford? Ford. You heard what this knave told me, did you not ? Page. Yes ; and you heard what the other told me ? Ford. Do you think there is truth in them ? Page. Hang 'em, flaves ; I do not think, the Knight would offer it ; but thefe, that accufe him in his intent towards our wives, are a yoak of his difcarded men t, very rogues, now they be out of fervice. Ford. Were they his men ? Page. Marry, were they. Ford. I like it never the better for that* Does he lye at the Garter ? Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he mould intend his voyage towards my wife, I would turn her loofe to him ; and what he gets more of her than fharp words, let it lye on my head. Ford. I do not mifdoubt my wife, but I would be loth to turn them together} a man may be too confi- dent •, I would have nothing lye on my head ; I can- not be thus fatisfy'd. Page. Look, where my ranting Hod of the Garter comes ; there is either liquor in his pate, or mony in his purfe, when he looks fo merrily. How now, mine Holt ? TL 4 Entir $4$ VpG Merry Wives of Wiadfer. Enter Hoft and Shallow Hoft,: How now, bully Rock? thou'rt a gentleman^ eavalerio-juflice, I fay. Shal. I follow, mine Hoft, I follow. Good even, and twenty, good mailer Page. Mailer Page, will you go with us ? we have fport in hand. Hoft, Tell him, cavaliero-juftice ; tell him, bully Rock. Shal Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the Welch prieft, and Cuius the French do&or. Ford. Good mine Hoft o'th' Garter, a word with you. Hoft. What fay'ft thou, bully Rock? Shah Will you go with us to behold it? my merry Hoft hath had the meafuring of their weapons, and, I think, hath appointed them contrary places ; for, be- lieve me, I hear, the parfon is no jefter. Hark, I will tell you what our fport fhall be. Hoft. Haft thou no fuit againft my Knight, my gueft- was a noted Harbour for Thieves and Strum- pets. Quit. The Merry Wives of Windfor. i j i Q)uic. I'll be fworn, as my mother was, the firft hour I was born. Fal. I do believe the fwearer: what with me? §uic. Shall I vouchfafe your worfhip a word or two? Fal. Two thoufand, fair woman, and I'll vouchfafe thee the hearing. Q)uic. There is one miftrefs Ford, Sir: I pray, come a little nearer this ways : I my felf dwell with Mr. Doctor Caius. Fal. Well, on: miftrefs Ford, you fay, — $>)uic. Your worfhip fays very true: I pray your worfhip, come a little nearer this ways. Fal. 1 warrant thee, no body hears : mine own peo- ple, mine own people. Quic. Are they fo? heav'n blefs them, and make them his fervants. Fal. Well : miftrefs Ford, what of her ? §uk. Why, Sir, ihe's a good Creature. Lord, lord, your worship's a wanton 5 well, heav'n forgive you, and all of us, I pray- Fal. Miftrefs Ford, come, Miftrefs Ford- ^uic. Marry, this is the fhort and the long of it; you have brought her into fuch a canaries, as 'tis won-; derful : the belt Courtier of them all, when the Court lay at Windfor, could never have brought her to fuch a canary. Yet there has been knights, and lords, and gentlemen, with their coaches; I warrant you, coach, after coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, fmelling fo fweetly; all musk; and fo rufsling, I warrant you^ in filk and gold, and in fuch alligant terms, and in fuch wine and fugar of the beft, and the faireft, that would have won any woman's heart; and, I warranty you, they could never get an eye-wink of her. I had my felf twenty angels given me this morning} but I defie all angels, in any fuch fort as they fay, but in the way of honefty; and I warrant you, they could never get her fp much as ftp on a cup with the proud- eft of them all : and yet there has been Earls, nay^ which is more, Penfioners; but, I warrant you, all is &ne with her. Fah i$z The Merry Wives of Windfor. FaL But what fays fhe to me ? be brief, my good She- Mercury. Quic. Marry, fhe hath receiv'd your letter, for the which fhe thanks you a thoufand times $ and fhe gives you to notifie, that her husband will be abfence from his houfe between ten and eleven. FaL Ten and eleven. £>)uic. Ay, forfooth > and then you may come and fee the picture, fhe fays, that you wot of: mafter Ford, her husband, will be from home. Alas ! the fweet wo- man leads an ill life with him, he's a very jealoufie- manj fhe leads a very frampold life with him, good heart. FaL Ten and eleven : woman, commend me to her* I will not fail her. Quic. Why, you fay well: But I have another mef- fenger to your worfhip j miftrefs Page has her hearty commendations to you too j and let me tell you in your ear, fhe's as fartuous a civil modeft wife, and one (I tell you) that will not mifs you morning nor even- ing prayer, as any is in Windfor ■, whoe'er be the other; and fhe bad me tell your worfhip, that her husband is feldom from home, but, fhe hopes, there will come a time. I never knew a woman fo doat upon a manj furely, I think you have Charms, la 5 yes, in truth. FaL Not I, I aflure thee 5 fetting the attraction of my good parts afide, I have no other Charms. §)uic. Bleffing on your heart for't. FaL But I pray thee, tell me this 5 has Ford's wife, and Page's wife, acquainted each other how they love me? §>uic. That were a jeft, indeed 5 they have not fo little grace, I hope ♦, that were a trick, indeed ! but miftrefs Page would defire you to fend her your little Page, of all loves : her husband has a marvellous infec- tion to the little Page j and, truly, mafter Page is an honeft man. Never a wife in Windfor leads a better life, than fhe doesj do what ihe will, fay what fhe will, take all, pay all, go to bed when fhe lift, rife when fhe lift, all is as fhe will} and, truly, fhe deferves it; The Merry Wives of Windfor. 2.5 3 it ; for if there be a kind woman in Windfor •, truly, (he is one. You mull fend her your Page 5, no remedy. Fal. Why, I will. Quic. Nay, but do fo then; and, look you, he may come and go between you both, and in any cafe have a nay- word, that you may know one another's mind : and the boy never need to underftand any thing ; for 'tis not good, that children mould know any wicked- nefs : old folks, you know, have difcretion, as they fay, and know the world. Fal. Fare thee well; commend me to them both: there's my purfe, I am yet thy debtor. Boy, go a- Ipng with this woman. This news diftracts me. [Ex. Quick, and Robin. Pift. This punk is one of Cupid's carriers : Clap on more fails; purfue; up with your fights; Give fire; me is my prize, or ocean whelm them all! [Exit Piftol. Fal. Say'ft thou fo, old Jack? go thy ways; I'll make more of thy old body, than I have done; will they yet look after thee? Wilt thou, after the cxpence of fo much mony, be now a gainer ? good body, I thank thee; let them fay, 'tis grofsly done; fo it be fairly done, no matter. Enter Bardolph. Bard. Sir John, there's one matter Brook below would fain fpeak with you, and be acquainted with you ; and hath fent your worfhip a morning's draught of fack. Fal. Brook, is his Name? Bard. Ay, Sir. Fal. Call him in; [Ex. Bardolph.] fuch Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflow with fuch liquor. Ah! ah ! miftrefs Ford and miftrefs Page, have I encompafs'd you? go to, via/ Re-enter Bardolph, with Ford difguis'd. Ford. Blefs you, Sir. Fal, And you, Sir; would you fpeak with me? Ford. a, 5 4 7J&* Merry Wives of Windfor. Ford. I make bold to prcfs with fo little preparation upon you. FaL You're welcome -, what's your will? give us leave, drawer. [Ex. Bardolph. Ford. Sir, I am a gentleman that have fpent much} my name is Brook. FaL Good mafter Brook^ I defire more acquaintance of you. Ford. Good Sir John, I fue for yours 5 not to charge you* for I muft let you underftand, I think my felf in better plight for a lender than you are, the which hath fomething emboldened me to this unfeafon'd intrufion j for they fay* if mony go before, all ways do lye open. FaL Money is a good foldier, Sir, and will on. Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of mony, here, trou- bles mej if you will help me to bear it, Sir John, take all, or half, for eafing me of the carriage. FaL Sir* I know not how I may defer vc to be your porter. Ford. I will tell you, Sir, if you will give me the hearing, FaL Speak, good mafter Brook, I ihall be glad to bt your fervant. Ford. Sir, I hear, you are a fcholar 5 (I will be brief with you 5) and you have been a man long known to me, tho' I had never fo good means, as defire* to make my felf acquainted with you : I fhall difcover a thing to you, wherein I muft very much lay open mine own Imperfections 5 but good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn an- other into the regifter of your own, that I may pafs with a reproof the eafier* fith you your felf know, how cade it is to be fuch an offender. FaL Very well: Sir, proceed. Ford. There is a gentlewoman in this town, her hus- band's name is Ford. FaL Well, Sir. Ford. I have long lov'd her-, and, I proteft to you, beftow'd much on her \ followed her with a doating pbfervance > ingrofs'd opportunities to meet her) tee'd every The Merry Wives of Windfof. 255 every flight occafion, that could but niggardly give me fight of her* not only bought many Prefents to give her, but have given largely to many, to know what fhe would have given : briefly, I have purfued her, as love hath purfu'd me, which hath been on the wing of all occafions. But whatfoever I have merited, either in my mind, or in my means j meed, I am fure, I have received none 5 unlcfs experience be a jewel} That I have purchas'd at an infinite rate, and That hath taught me to fay this 5 " Love like a Jhadow flies, when fub fiance love pur fues % u Purfuing That that flies, and flying what purfues. FaL Have you receiv'd no promife of fatisfaction at her hands ? Ford. Never. FaL Have you importun'd her to fuch a purpofe? Ford. Never. FaL Of what quality was your love then? Ford. Like a fair houfe, built on another man's- ground > fo that I have loft my edifice, by miftaking die place where I erected it. FaL To what purpofe have you unfolded this to me? Ford. When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some fay, that tho' fhe appear honeft to me, yet in other places fhe enlargeth her mirth fo far, that there is ihrewd conftru£Hon made of her. Now, Sir John^ here is the heart of my purpofe : You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable difcourfe, of great ad- mittance, authentick in your place and perfon, gene- rally allow'd for your many war-like, court-like, and learned preparations. FaL O Sir! Ford. Believe it, for you know itj there is mony, fpend it, fpend it 5 fpend more, fpend all I have, on- ly give me fo much of your time in exchange of it, as to lay an amiable fiege to the honefty of this Ford's wife j ufe your art of wooing, win her to confent to you> if any man may, you may as foon as any. FaL Would it apply well to the vehemence of your affection, that I fhould win what you would enjoy ? me- thinks, you prefcribe to your felf very prepoilerouily. i Amaimon founds well, Lucifer ', well \ Bar- bafon, well ; yet they are devils additions, the names of fiends: but cuckold, wittol, cuckold! the devil him- felf hath not fuch a name. Page is an afs, a fecure afs, he will truft his wife 5 he will not be jealous : I will rather truft a Fleming with my butter, parfon Hugh the Welchman with my cheefe, an Irijh-man with my Aqua- vita bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with her felf: then fhe plots, then me ruminates, then me devifes: and what they think in their hearts they may effeft, they will break their hearts but they will effect. Heav'n be prais'd for my jealoufie t Eleven o'clock the hour 5 I will prevent this, deteflk my wife, be reveng'd on Falflaff, and laugh at Page: I will about it : better three hours too foon, than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie 5 cuckold, cuckold, cuckold! {Exit* I SCENE changes to Windfor-^r^ Enter Caius and Rugby. taius. XJCK Rugby/ \ Rug. Sir. Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack? Rug. 'Tis paft the hour, Sir, that Sir Hugh promis'd to meet. Caius. By gar, he has fave his foul, dat he is no come j he has pray his pible well, dat he is no come t Vol. I. s by z$S The Merry Wives of Windfor. by gar* Jac& Ru&hi nc 1S dead already, if he be come. Rug. He is wife, Sir 3 he knew, your worfhip would kill him, if he came. Caius. By gar, de herring is not fo dead as me vii; make him. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him. Rug. Alas, Sir, I cannot fence. Caius. Villany, take your rapier. Rug. Forbear > here's company. Enter Hoft, Shallow, Slender and Page. Hoft. 'Blefs thee, bully-doftor. Shal. 'Save you, Mr. Doctor Caius. Page. Now, good Mr. Doctor. Slen. Give you good morrow, Sir. Caius. Vat be ali you, one, two, tree, four, come for? Hoft. To fee thee fight, to fee thee foigne, to fee thee traverfe, to fee thee here, to fee thee there, to fee thee pafs thy puncto, thy flock, thy reverfe, thy diftance, thy montant. Is he dead, my Ethiopian? Is he dead, my Francifco? ha, bully? what fays my JEftw lapius ? my Galen ? my heart of elder ? ha ? is he dead, bully-ftale ? is he dead ? Caius. By gar, he is de coward 3^£-prieft of de vorld> he is not fliow his face. Hoft. Thou art a Caftalion-king-Urinal : Heclor of Greece, my boy. Caius. I pray you bear witnefs, that me have ftay fix or feven, two tree hours for him, and he is no comb. ShaL He is the wifer man, Mr. Doctor j he is a curer of fouls, and you a curer of bodies : if you fhould fight, you go againft. the hair of your profef- fions : Is it not true, mailer Page ? Page. Matter Shallow, you have your felf been a great fighter, tho' now a man of peace. Shall. Body-kins, Mr. Page, tho' I now be old, and of peace, if I fee a fword out, my finger itches to iii.ike onej tho' we are juilices, and doctors, and church- *the Merry Wives of Windfor. 252 church-men, Mr. Page, we have fome fait of our youth in us > we are the fons of women, Mr. Page. Page. 'Tis true, Mr. Shallow. Shah It will be found fo, Mr. Page. Mr. Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home $ I am fworn of the peace > you havefhewM your felf a wife phyfician, and Sir Hugh hath fhown himfelf a wife and patient : church-man : you muft go with me, Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Pardon, gueft-juitice> a word, monfieur mock- water. Caius. Mock-vater ? vat is dat ? Hoft. Mock- water, in our Englijh tongue, is valour* bully. Caius. By gar, then I have as much mock-vater as de Englijhtnan, fcurvy-jack-dog-prieltj by gar, me vill cut his ears. Hoft. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Caius. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat? Hoft. That is, he will make thee amends. Caius. By gar, me do look, he fhall clapper-de-claw me> for by gar, me vill have it. Hoft. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Caius. Me tank you for dat. Hoft. And moreover, bully : but firft, Mr. Gueftj and Mr. Page9 and eek Cavaliero Slender^ go you through the town to Frogmore. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he? Hoft. He is there j fee, what humour he is in 5 and I will bring the Doctor about the fields : will it do well ? iShal. We will do it. All. Adieu, good Mr. Doctor. [£#.Page, Shal. and Slen. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priefb 3 for he fpeak or a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. Hoft. Let him die s but, firhr, fheath thy impatience} throw cold water on thy cholerj go about the fields with me through Frogmore ; I will bring thee where miftrefs Anne Page is, at a farm-houfe a feafting 5 S 1 a*d i(Jo The Merry Wives of Windfor. and thou flialt woo her. (17) Try'd G*me, faid I well ? Gains. By gar, me tank you vor dat : by gar, I love you 5 and I ihall procure 'a you de good gueilj de Eari, de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my pa- tients. Hoft. For the which I will be thy adverfary toward jJnne Page : faid I well ? Caius. By gar, 'tis good* veil faid. Hoft. Let us wag then. Caius. Come at my heels, Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. dfci ACT III. SCENE, Frogmore near Windfor. Enter Evans, and Simple. E VA N S. I Pray you now, good matter Slender' s fervingmar^ and friend Simple by your name, which way have you look'd for mailer Caius, that calls himfelf Doftor of Phyfick? Simp. Marry, Sir, the Pitty-wary, the Park-ward^ every way, old Windfor way, and every way but the town way. Eva. I moil fehemently defire you, you will alfo look that way. Simp. I will, Sir. (17) And thou /halt woo her. Cride-Game,] Thus the old Folio's. The Quarto's with a little Difference. And thou Jbalt wear her cry'd Game. Said I well? Neither of the Readings furnifh any Idea ; nor can be genuine. Tryd Game, as I have reflor'd it, may well fignify, Thou old Cock of the Game; thou experienced Sinner: and might be reafonably apply'd to Caius, wjio was aji old Batchellor, and had Dame Quickly for his Housekeeper. Eva. The Merry Wives 0/Windfbn 261 Eva. 'Plefs my foul, how full of chollars I am, and trempling of mind ! I fhall be glad, if he have deceiv'd mej how melanchollies lam! I will knog his urinals about his knave's coftard, when I have good opportu- nities for the orke : 'Plefs my foul ! [Sings, being afraid. By Jh allow river s, to who fe falls (18) Melodious birds fing madrigalls \ There will we make our peds of rofes •, And a thoufand fragrant pofies. By Jh allow— -~ 'Mercy on me, I have a great difpofi- tions to cry. Melodious birds fing madrigalls TVhen as I fat in Pabilon ;—— — and a thoufand vagrant pojies. By Jh allow, &c. Simp. Yonder he is coming, this way, Sir Hugh. Eva. He's welcome* By fhallow rivers, to whofe falls Heav'n profpcr the right : what weapons is he ? Simp. No weapons, Sir 5 there comes my mafter, Mr. Shallow, and another gentleman from Frogmorey \ aver the ftite, this way. Eva. Pray you, give me my gown, or elfe keep it in ! your arms. Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Shot. How now, mafter Parfon ? good morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamefter from the dice, and a good {Indent from his book, and it is wonderful. Slen. Ah, fweet Anne Page! Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh. Eva. 'Plefs you from his mercy-fake, all of you, Shah What ? the fword and the word ? do you ftu- dy them both, Mr. Parfon? (18) By Jb allow Rivers,"] The Stanza, which Sir Hugh repeats here, is part of a fweet little Sonnet of our Author's, and printed among his Poems, call'd, The Pajjionate Shepherd to his Lo-ve. Milton was fo enamour'd with this Poem, and the Nymph's Reply to it, that he has borrow'd the Clofe of his U Allegro, and // Penferofo from them h I don't know, whether it has been generally obferv'd, but it is with won- derful Humour, in his fmging, that Sir Hugh intermixes with, his Ma- flrigal the firft Line of the 137th fmging Pfalm. S 3, Page. i£i. The Merry Wives 0/Windfor. Page. And youthful ftill, in your doublet and hofe, thjs raw-rheumatick day ? Eva. There is reafons and caufes for it. Page, We are come to you, to do a good office, Mr. farfon. Eva. Ferry well: what is it? Page. Yonder is a moft reverend gentleman, who, belike, having receiv'd wrong by fome perfon, is at moft odds with his own gravity and patience, that ever you faw. Shah I have liv'd fourfcore years, and upward j I never heard a man of his place, gravity and learning, fo wide of hjs own refpect. Eva. What is he ? Page. I think, you know him 5 Mr. Doctor Caius% the renowned French phyGcian. Eva. Got's will, and his paffion of my heart! I had as Jief you fhould tell me of a mefs of porridge. Page, Why ? Eva. He has no more knowledge in Hi her ate s and Galen 3 and he is a knave, befidesj a cowardly knave as you would defire to be acquainted withal. Page. I warrant you, he's the man fhould fight with him. Slen. Q, fweet Anne Page! Enter Hoft, Caius, and Rugby. Shah It appears fo, by his weapons : keep them a? funder^ here comes Doctor Caius. Page. Nay, good Mr. Parfon, keep in your weapon. Shah So do you, good Mr. Doctor. Hoft. Difarm them, and let them queftion ; let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our Englijh. Caius. I pray you, let-a me fpeak a word with your ear: wherefore vill you not meet-a me? Eva. fray you, ufe your patience in good time. Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. Eva. Pray you, let us not be laughing- flocks toother mens humours: I defire you in friendijiip, and will one The Merry Wives of Windfor. iC j one way or other make you amends ; I will knog your urinal about your knave's cogs-comb, for miffing your meetings and appointments. Cams, Diable! Jack Rugby, mine Hoft de Jarteer9 have I not flay for him, to kill him ? have I not, at de place I did appoint ? Eva. As I am a chriftian's foul, now look you, this is the place appointed 5 I'll be judgment by mine Hoft of the Garter. Hoft . Peace, I fay, Gallia and Gaul, French and Welch ^ foul-curer and body-curer. Caius. Ay, dat is very good, excellent. Hoft. Peace, I fay j hear mine Hoft of the Garter. Am I politick? am I fubtle? am I a Machiavel? (hall I lofe my Doctor? no 5 he gives me the potions and he gives me the proverbs and the no- verbs. Give me thy hand, terreftrialj fo: Give me thy hand, celeftial^ fo. Boys of art, I have deceiv'd you both : I have directed you to wrong places : your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burn'd ; fack be the Iffue. Come, lay their fwords to pawn. \ Follow me, lad of peace, follow, follow, follow. ShaL Truft me, a mad hoft. Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. O fweet Anne Page I {Ex. ShaL Slen. Page and Hoft. Caius. Ha! do I perceive dat? have you make a-de- fot of us, ha, ha ? Eva. This is well, he has made us his vlouting- ftog. I defire you, that we may be friends j and let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this fame fcald-fcurvy- cogging companion, the Hoft of the Garter. Carus. By gar, with all my heart ; he promife to bring me where is Anne Page -, by gar, he deceive me too. Eva. Well, I will fmite his noddles j pray you, fol- low = {Exeunt, S 4 SCENE $,$4 &h* Merry Wives of Windfor. SCENE, The Street, in Windfor. Enter Mifirefs Page, and Robin. Mrs. Ptfge.TwT A Y, keep your way, little gallant; jLN you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your mailer's heels? Rob. I had rather, forfooth, g° before you like a man, than follow him like a dwarf. Mrs. Page. O, you are a flattering boy $ no^r you'll be a Courtier. Enter Ford. Ford. Well met, miftrefs Page-, whither go you? Mrs. Page.. Truly, Sir, to fee your wife; is flic at home? Ford. Ay ; and as idle as me may hang together, for want of company 5 I think if your husbands were Head, you two would marry. Mrs. Page. Be fure of that, two other husbands. Ford. Where had you this pretty weather-cock ? Mrs. Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of: what do you call yotfr Knight's name, firrah? 1 Rob. Sir John Falftaff. Ford. Sir John Falftaff? Mrs. Page. He, he-, I can never hit on's name; there is fuch a league between my good man and he. Is your wife at home, indeed? ■ Ford. Indeed, fhe is. Mrs: Page. By your leave, Sir 5 I am fick, 'till I fee her. \_Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin. Ford. Has Page any brains ? hath he any eyes ? hath he any thinking? fire, they fleep; he hath no ufe of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile, as eafyas a cannon will moot point-blank twelve-fcore* he pieces out his wife's inclination \ he gives her folly .jnotion and advantage 5 and now lhe's going to my ii.t,i ... . \ •- wife, The Merry ffhes of Windfor. 2^5 wife, and Falftaff's boy with her. A man may hear this fliower fing in the wind : and Falftaff's boy with her ! good plots j they are laid, and our revolted wives fliare damnation together. Well, I will take him, then torture my wife 5 pluck the borrowed vail of modefty from the fo feeming miftrefs Page, divulge Page himfelf for a fecure and wilful Alteon, and to thefe violent proceedings all my neighbours fliall cry aim. The clock gives me my cue, and my afTurance bids me fearchj there I (hall find Falftaff:'! fliall be rather praifed for this, than mocked 5 for it is as pofitive as the earth is firm, that Falftaff is there: I will go. To bim, Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Hoft, Evans, and Caius. Shal. Page, &c. Well met, Mr. Ford. Ford. Truft me, a good knot : I have good cheer at home, and, I pray you, all go with me. Shal. I rauft excufe my felf, Mr. Ford. Slen. And fo muft I, Sir> we have appointed to dine with Mrs. Anne, and I would not break with her for more mony than I'll fpeak of. Shal. We have linger'd about a match between Anne Page and my coufin Slender, and this day we fliall have our anfwer. Slen. I hope, I have your good will, father Page. Page. You have, Mr. Slender > I ftand wholly for you 5 but my wife, mailer Doctor, is for you altogether. Cat. Ay, by gar, and de maid is love-a-me : my Ti\xx(h'2i' Quickly tell me fo mufli. Hoft. What fay you to young Mr. Fenton ? he ca- pers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verfes, he fpeaks holy-day, he fmells April and May 5 he will carry 't, he will carry 't -, 'tis in his buttons, he will carry't. Page. Not by my confent, I promifc you : the Gen- tleman is of no Having, he kept company with the wild Prince and Poinz : he is of too high a region, he knows too much j no, he fliall not knit a knot in his for- tunes with the finger of my fubftance. If he take her, ',l * • let z6 6 The Merry Wives of Windfor. let him take her (imply $ the wealth I have waits on my confent, and my confent goes not that way. Ford. I befeech you, heartily, fome of you go home with me to dinner j befides your cheer you ihall have fportj I will mew you a monfter. Mr. Do&or, you mall go> fo fhall you, Mr. Page, and you, Sir Hugh. Shal. Well, fare you well: we {hall have the freer wooing at Mr. Page's. Caius. Go home, John Rugby 9 I come anon. Ho ft. Farewel,- my hearts $ I will to my honeft Knight Falftaff) and drink canary with him. Ford. I think, I fhall drink in Pipe- wine firfl with him : I'll make him dance. Will you go, gentles ? All. Have with you, to fee this monfter. \Exemt. SCENE changes to FordV Houfe. Enter Mr s. Ford, Mrs, Page, and Servants 'with a basket. Mrs.iW. \T7HAT, John, what, Robert/ VV Mrs. Page. Quickly, quickly: is the buck-basket — Mrs. Ford. I warrant. What, Robin, I fay. Mrs. Page. Come, come, come. Mrs. Ford. Here, fet it down. Mrs. Page. Give your men the charge, we mull be brief. Mrs. Ford. Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard-by in the brew-houfe, and when I fuddenly call you, come forth, and without any paufe or ftaggering take this basket on your moulders > that done, trudge with it in all hafte, and carry it a- mong the whitfters in Datchet-Mezd, and there empty it in the muddy ditch clofe by the Thames-Cidc. Mrs. Page. You will do it? Mrs. Ford. I ha' told them over and over$ they lick no direction.^ Be gone, and come when you are call'd. Mrs. Page. Here corwes little Robin. Int* The Merry iVives 0/ Windfor. %6j Enter Robin. Mrs. Ford. How now, my Eyas-musket, what news with you? Rob My mafter Sir John is come in at your back- door, miftrefs Ford, and requefts your company. Mrs. Page. You little Jack-a-lent, have you been true to us? Rob. Ay, I'll be fworn ; my mafter knows not of your being here, and hath threaten'd to put me into everlafting liberty, if I tell you of it ; for he fwears, he'll turn me away. Mrs. Page. Thou'rt a good boy 5 thisfecrecy of thine mail be a tailor to thee, and mall make thee a new doublet and hofe. I'll go hide me. Mrs. Ford. Do fo; go tell thy mafter, I am alone; miftrefs Page^ remember you your cue. [Exit Robin. Mrs. Page. I warrant thee * if 1 do not act it, hifs me. [Exit Mrs. Page. Mrs Ford. Go to then 5 we'll ufe this unwholfome humidity, this grofs watry pumpion— we'll teach Jiim to know turtles from jays. Enter Falftaff. Fal. Have I caught thee, my hcav'nly jewel? why, now let me die \ for I have liv'd long enough : this is the period of my ambition: O this blefled hour!. Mrs. Ford. O fweet Sir John! Fal. Mrs. Ford^ I cannot cog 5 I cannot prate, mif- trefs Ford : now fhall I fin in my wifh. I would, thy husband were dead ; I'll fpeak it before the beft lord, \ would make thee my lady. Mrs. Ford. I your lady, Sir John? alas, I mould he a pitiful lady. Fal. Let the Court of France mew me fuch another \ I fee how thine eye would emulate the diamond : thou haft the right arched bent of the brow, that becomes the (hip- tire, the tire- valiant, or any Venetian attire. Mrs. Ford. A plain kerchief, Sir John: my brows become nothing elfe, nor that well neither. 2.68 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Fal. Thou art a tyrant to fay fo ; thou would'ft make an abfolute Courtier ; and the firm fixure of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gate, in a femi-circled farthingale. I fee what thou wert $ if for- tune thy foe were not, nature is thy friend : come, thou canfl: not hide it. Mrs. Ford. Believe me, there's no fuch thing in mc. Fal. What made me love thee? let that perfuade thee. There's fomething extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and fay, thou art this and that, like a- many of thefe lifping haw-thorn buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and fmcll like Bucklers-Berry in fimpling time* I cannot: but I love thee, none but thee ; and thou deferveft it. Mrs. Ford. Do not betray me, Sir $ I fear, you love miftrefs Page. Fal. Thou might'ft as well fay, I love to walk by the Counter- gate, which is as hateful to me as the reck of a lime-kiln. Mrs. Ford. Well, heav'n knows how I love you, and you fhall one day find it. Fal. Keep in that mind ; I'll deferve it. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I muft tell you, fo you do j or elfc I could not be in that mind. Rob. [_witbin.~] Miftrefs Ford, miftrefs Ford, here's miftrefs Page at the door, fweating, and blowing, and looking wildly,and would needs fpeak with you prefently. Fal. She fhall not fee mcj I will enfeonce me be- hind the arras. Mrs.Ford. Pray you, do fo \ fhe's a very tattling wo- man. [Falftaff hides himfelf. Enter Miftrefs Page. What's the matter ? how now ? Mrs. Page. O miftrefs Ford, what have you done? you're fham'd, y'are overthrown, you are undone for ever. Mrs. Ford. What's the matter, good miftrefs Page? Mrs. Page. O well-a-day, miftrefs Ford, having an hdneft nan to your husband, to give him fuch cauie of fufpicion, Mrs. The Merry Wives of Windfbr, 169 Mrs. Ford. What caufe of fufpicion? Mrs. Page. What caufe of fufpicion? out upon you! how am I miftook in you ? Mrs. Ford. Why, alas! what's the matter? Mrs. Page. Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all the officers in Windfor^ to fearch for a gentle- man, that, he fays, is here now in the houfe, by your 1 confent, to take an ill advantage of his abfence. You are undone. Mrs. Ford. Speak louder — [_dfide~] 'Tis not fo, I hope. Mrs. Page. Pray heav'n it be not fo, that you have fuch a man here ; but 'tis mod certain, your husband's coming with half JVindfor at his heels, to fearch for fuch a one. I come before to tell you : if you know your felf clear, why, I am glad of if, but it you have , a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all your fenfes to you, defend your reputation, or bid farewel to your good life for ever. Mrs. Ford What mall I do? there is a gentleman, my dear friend \ and I fear not mine own (hame, fo much as his peril. I had rather than a thoufand pound, he were out of the houfe. Mrs. Page. For fhame, never ftand you had rather •, and you had rather j your husband's here at hand $ be- think you of fome conveyance, in the houfe you can- not hide him. Oh, how have you deceiv'd me? look, here is a basket, if he be of any reafonable ftature, he may creep in here, and throw foul linnen upon him, as if it were going to bucking: or it is whiting time, fend him by your two men to Datchet-mezd. Mrs. Ford. He's too big to go in there : what fhall Ido? Re-enter Falftaff. Fal. Let me fee't, let me fee't, O let me fee't 5 Til in, I'll in ; follow your friend's counfel j I'll in.- Mrs. Page. What! Sir John Falftaff? are thefe your letters, Knight ? Fal. I love thee, help me away ; let me creep in here : I'll never [He goes into the hasket7 they cover him 'with foul linnen. Xvirs. xy o The Merry Wives of Windfor. Mrs. Page. Help to cover your mafter, boy: call your men, miftrefs Ford. You diffembling Knight ! Mrs. Ford. What, John, Robert, John, go take up thefe cloaths here, quickly. Where's the cowl-ftaff? look, how you drumble : carry them to the landrefs in Datchet-mc&d-, quickly, come. Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Evans. Ford. Pray you, come near j if I fufpeft without caufe, why then make fport at me, then let me be your jeft, I deferve it. How now? whither bear you this? Serv. To the landrefs, forfooth. Mrs. Ford. Why, what have you to do whither they bear it ? You were befl meddle with buck-wafh- ing. Ford. Buck ? I would I could wafti my felf of the buck : buck, buck, buck ? ay, buck : I warrant you, buck, and of the feafon too, it fhall appear. [Exeunt Servants with the basket^ Gentlemen, I have dream'd to night, I'll tell you my dream : here, here, here be my keys ; afcend my chambers, fearch, feek, find out. I'll warrant, we'll unkennel the fox. Let me flop this way firft. So, now uncape. Page. Good mafter Ford, be contented : you wrong your felf too much. Ford. True,. mafter Page. Up, gentlemen, you {hall fee fport anon -, follow me, gentlemen. Eva. This is ferry fantaftical humours and jealou* fies. Caius. By gar, 'tis no the fafliion of France j it is not jealous in France Page. Nay, follow him, gentlemen, fee the iffue of his fearch. \Exeunt. Manent Miftrefs Page and Miftrefs Ford. Mrs. Page. Is there not a double excellency in this ? Mrs. Ford. I know not which pleafcs me better, that my husband is deceiv'd, or Sir John. Mrs. i The Merry Wives of Wmdfor. 171 Mrs. Page. What a taking was he in, when your husband ask'd who was in the basket > Mrs. Ford. I am half afraid, he will have need of wafhing , fo throwing him into the water will do him 1 benefit. Mrs. Page. Hang him, difhoneft rafcalj I would all of the fame ftrain were in the fame diftrefs. Mrs. Ford. I think, my husband hath fome fpecial fufpicion of Falftaff's being here! I never faw him fo grofs in his jealoufie till now. Mrs. Page. I will lay a plot to try that, and we will yet have more tricks with Falfiaff; his difiblute difeafc Will fcarce obey this medicine. Mrs. Ford. Shall we fend that foolifli carrion, mif- trefs Quickly^ to him, and excufe his throwing into the water, and give him another hope, to betray him to another punifhment ? Mrs. Page. We'll do it; let him be fent for to mor- row by eight a clock, to have amends. Re-enter Ford, Page, &c. Ford. I cannot find him ; may be, the knave bragged of that he could not compafs. Mrs. Page. Heard you that? Mrs. Ford. I, I; peace: — You ufe me well, ma- iler Ford, do you? Ford. Ay, ay, I do fo. Mrs. Ford. Heav'n make you better than your thoughts ! Ford. Amen. Mrs. Page. You do your felf mighty wrong, Mr, Ford. Ford. Ay, ayj I muft bear it. Eva. If there be any pody in the houfe, and in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in the prefTes, heav'n forgive my fins at the day of Judgment. Cains. By gar, nor I too > there is no bodies. Page. Fie, fie, Mr. Ford, are you not amam'd? what fpirit, what devil fuggefls this imagination? I would not ha' your diftemper in this kind, for the wealth of Windfor C&Jlk* Ford. xji The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Ford. Tis my fault, Mr. Page : I fufFer for it. Eva. You fufFer for a pad confciencc $ your wife is as honeft a o'mans, as I will defires among five thou- fand, and five hundred too. Cairn. By gar, 1 fee 'tis an honeft woman. Fori. Well, I promis'd you a dinner} come, come, walk in the park. I pray you, pardon me 5 I will hereafter make known to you, why I have done this. Come, wife 5 come, miftrefs Page \ I pray you, pardon me : pray heartily, pardon me. Page. Let's go in, gentlemen} but truft me, we'll mock him. I do invite you to morrow morning to my houfe to breakfaft} after, we'll a birding together $ I have a fine hawk for the bufh. Shall it be fo ? Ford. Any thing. Eva. If there is one, I fhall make two in the com- pany. Cam. If there be one or two, I fhall make-a th« turd. Sir Hugh. In your Teeth, for Shame. Ford. Pray you go, Mr. Page. Eva. I pray you now, remembrance to morrow on the loufie knave, mine Hoft. Cam. Dat is good, by gar, with all my heart. Eva. A loufie knave, to have his gibes, and his ttiockeries. \RxwnU SCENE changes to PageV Houfe. Enter Fenton and Miftrefs Anne Page. Tent T See, I cannot get thy father's love } X Therefore no more turn me to him, fwect Nan. Anne. Alas ! how then ? Pent. Why, thou mufl be thy felf. He doth objeft, I am too great of birth $ And that my ftate being gall'd with my expence, I feek to heal it only by his wealth. Befides thefe, other bars he lays before me, The Merry Wives of Windfbf; xfj My riots part, my wild focieties : And tells me, 'tis a thing impoffible I mould love thee, but as a property. Anne. May be, he tells you true. Fent. No, heav'n Co fpeed me in my time to come ! Albeit, I will confefs, thy father's wealth Was the firft motive that I woo'd thee, Anne : Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more value Than ftamps in gold, or fums in fealed bags $ And 'tis the very riches of thy felf That now I aim at. Anne. Gentle Mr. Fent on, Yet feek my father's love : ftill feek it, Sir $ If opportunity and humbleft fuit (ip) Cannot attain it, why then hark you hither. [Fenton and Mrs. Anne go apart. Enter Shallow, Slender, and Miflrefs Quickly. Sal. Break their talk, miftrefs Quickly; my kinfrriaii fliall fpeak for himfelf. Slen. I'll make a (haft or a bolt oh't : 'd'slid, 'tis but venturing. Shal. Be not difmay'd. Slen. No, {he fhall not difmay me : I care riot for that, but that I am affeard. §hfic. Hark ye, Mr. Slender would fpeak a word with you. Anne. I come to him. — This is my father's choice. O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Look handfome in three hundred pounds a year ! Quic. And how does good matter Fenton ? pray yoii, a word with you. Shal. She's comings to her, coz. O boy, thouhadit a father ! (19} If opportunity and humlleft Suit] Dr. Thirlhy imagines, that bur Author with more Propriety wrote ; If Importunity and humhleft Suit . ,-.. I have not ventur d to difturb the Text, becaufe, tho1 an 'equal Exact - nefs be not maintain1 d in the Expreffion, it may mean, *' If the frequent ' Opportunities you find of folliciting my Father, and your Obiequi- " ouihefs to him, cannot get him over to your Party, (Jfc. ,., Voc; 1. r silk ^74 The Merry PPives of Windfor. Slen. I had a father, Mrs. Anne j my uncle can tell you good jeits of him. Pray you, uncle, tell Mrs. Anne th$ jeft, how my father ftole two geefe out of a pen, good uncle. Shal. Miftrefs Anne, my coufin loves you. Slen. Ay, that I do, as well as I love any woman in Gloucefterjhire. Shal. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. Slen. Ay, that I will 5 come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a Squire. Shal. He will make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure. Anne. Good mafter Shallow, let him woo for him* felf. Shal. Marry, I thank you for it; I thank you for that. Good comfort* flie calls you, coz: I'll leave you. Anne. Now, mafter Slender. Slen. Now, good miftrefs Anne. Anne. What is your will ? Slen. My Will ? od's-heart-lings, that's a pretty jeft, indeed, I ne'er made my Will yet, I thank heav'n$ I am not fuch a fickly creature, 1 give heav'n praife. Anne. I mean, Mr. Slender, what would you with me ? Slen. Truly, for my own part, I would little or no- thing with you 5 your father and my uncle have made motions j if it be my luck, fo> if not, happy man be his dole ! they can tell you how things go, better than I can 5 you may ask your father j here he comes. Enter Page, and Miftrefs Page. Page. Now, mafter Slender : love him, daughter Anne. — -Why how now ? what does mafter Fenton here? You wrong me, Sir, thus ftill to haunt my houfe: I told you, Sir, my daughter is difpo^'d of. Frat. Nay, mafter Page, be not impatient. Mrs. Page. Good Mafter Fenton, come not to my child. P '. tht Merry Wives of Wihdfor. i^| Page. She is no match for you. Pent. Sir, will you hear me? Page* No, good mailer Fenton. Come, mailer Shallow > come, fori Slender^ in. Knowing my mind, you wrong me, mailer Fenton. {Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender, Quic. Speak to miilrefs Page. Fent. Good miitrefs Page, for that I love your daughter In fuch a righteous fafhion as I do, Perforce, againil all checks, rebukes and manners* I mud advance the colours of my love, And not retire. Let me have your good Will. Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yon fool. Mrs. Page. I mean it not, I feek you a bfetter hut band. §)uh. That's my mailer, mailer Doctor Anne. Alas, I had rather be fet quick i'th' earth, And bowl'd to death with turneps. Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not your felf, good mailer Fenton^ I will not be your friend nor enemy : My daughter will I queilion how {he loves you^ And as I find her, fo am I affefted. 'Till then, farewel, Sir> fhe muft needs go in, Her father will be angry. \Ex. Mrs. Page and Anne. Fent. Farewel, gentle miilrefs $ farewel, Nan. §uk. This is my doing now. Nay, faid 1, will yotl cail away your child on a fool, and a phyfician ? look on mailer Fenton: this is my doing. Fent. I thank thee 5 and I pray thee, once to night Give my fweet Nan this ring : there's for thy pains. [_Exita Quic. Now heav'n fend thee good fortune ! A kind heart he hath, a woman would run through fire and Water for fuch a kind heart. But yet, I would my mailer had miilrefs Anne$ or I would Mr. Slender had her 5 Or, in footh, I would Mr. Fenton had her. I will do what I can for them all three, for fo I have pro- inis'd} and I'll be as good as my word, but fpeciouily T z for 276 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. for Mr. Fenton. Well, I muft of another errand to Sir John Falftaff from my two miftreffes 5 what a beaft am I to flack it ? {Exit. SCENE changes to the Garter-Inn. Enter Falftaff and Bardolph. Fal TYJrdolph, I fay. J3 Bard. Here, Sir, Fal. Go fetch me a quart of fack, put a toaft in't. {Ex. Bard.] Have I liv'd to be carry 'd in a basket, like a barrow of butchers offal, and to be thrown in- to the Thames ? well, if I be ferv'd fuch another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out and butter'd, and give them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues flighted me into the river, with as little remorfe (2.0) as they would have drown'd a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' th' litter 5 and you may know, by my fize, that I have a kind of alacrity in finking : if the bot- tom were as deep as hell, I fliould down. I had been drown'd, but that the fliore was fhelvy and fhallow > a death that I abhor j for the water fwells a man: and what a thing fliould I have been, when I had been fwell'd? I fliould have been a mountain of mummy. Enter Bardolph. Now, is the Sack brew'd? Bard. Here's Mrs. Quickly, Sir, to fpeak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in fome fack to the Thames- waterj for my^ belly's as cold as if I had fwallow'd (20) As they would have drowned a blind bitch's puppies,'] I have ventur'd to tranfpofe the Adjeftive here, againft the Authority of the printed Copies. I know, in Horfes, a Colt from a blind Stallion lofes much of the Value it might otherwife have; but are puppies ever drown'd the fooner, for coming from a blind Bitch ? Two other PafTages in our Author countenance the Tranfpofition I have made. Launce, in 2 Gent, of Verona.' Qnc, that I fanSd from drowning, when three or four of his Mind brothers and Jijiers went to it. And J ago, in Othello : Ceme^be a Man', drown thy f elf ? drown Cats and blind Puppies. ihow- The Merry Wives of Windfor. 277 fnow-balls, for pills to cool the reins. Call her in. Bard. Come in, woman. Enter Miftrefs Quickly. Quic. By your leave : I cry you mercy. Give your wormip good morrow. Fal. Take away thefe challices : go brew me a pot- tle of fack finely. Bard. With eggs, Sir? Fal. Simple of it felf: I'll no pullet-fperm in my brewage. How now ? §uic. Marry, Sir, I come to your worfhip from miftrefs. Ford. Fal. Miftrefs Ford? I have had Ford enough} I was thrown into the Ford $ I have my belly full of Ford. §uic. Alas the day! good heart, that was not her fault: fhe does fo take on with her men 5 they mif- took their erection. Fal. So did I mine, to build on a foolifti woman's promife. Quic. Well, fhe laments, Sir, for it, that it would yern your heart to fee it. Her husband goes this morn- ing a birding j fhe defires you once more to come to her between eight and nine. I muft carry her word quickly^ fhe'll make you amends, I warrant you. Fal. Well, I will vifit her 5 tell her fo, and bid her think, what a man is: let her confider his frailty, and then judge of my merit, §)uic. I will tell her. Fal Do fo. Between nine and ten, fay'ft thou? §)uic. Eight and nine, Sir. Fal. Well, be gone* I will not mifs her. §)uic. Peace be with you, Sir. \_Exit. Fal. I marvel, I hear not of mafter Brook ; he fent me word to ftay within : I like his mony well. Oh* here he comes, T 3 Enter f7? Tbe Merry Wwes of Windfor. Enter Ford. Ford. Blefs you, Sir. Fal Now, mafter Brook, you come to know what hath pafs'd between me and Ford's wife. Ford. That, indeed, Sir John, is my bufinefs. Fal. Mafter Brook, I will not lie to you j I was at her houfe the hour {he appointed me. Ford. And you fped, Sir ? Fal. Very Ul-favour'dly, mafter Brook. Ford. How, Sir, did fhe change her determination ? Fal No, mafter Brook -y but the peaking cornuto her husband, mafter Brook, dwelling in a continual larum, of jealoufie, comes me in the inftant of our encoun- ter j after we had embrae'd, kifs'd, protefted, and as it were fpoke the prologue of our comedy} and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provok'd and inftigated by his diftemper, and, forfooth, tq fearch his houfe for his wife's love. Ford. What, while you were there? Fal. While I was there. Ford, And did he fearch for you, and could not find Fal. You fhall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one miftrefs Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and by her invention, and Ford's wife's diftradtion, they convey'd me into a buck-basket. Ford. A buck-basket ? Fah Yea, a buck-basket; ramm'd me in with fou\ fhirts and fmocks, focks, foul ftockings, and greafie napkins > that, mafter Brook, there was the ranked compound of villainous fmell, that ever offended noftril. Ford. And how long lay you there ? Fal. Nay, you ftiall hear, mafter Brook, what \ have fuffer'd, to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus cramm'd in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were eall'd forth by their miftrefs, to carry me in the name of foul cloaths to Datchet-Iane; they took me on their fhoulders, met the jealous knave their mafter in the door, who ask'd them The Merry JVives of Windfor. 279 them once or twice what they had in their basket > I quak'd for fear, left the lunatick knave would have fearch'd it; but fate, ordaining he fhould be a cuc- kold, held his hand. Well, on went he for a fearch, and away went I for foul cloaths ; but mark the fe- quel, mafter Brook ; I fuffered the pangs of three egre- gious deaths : fir ft, an intolerable fright, to be de- tected by a jealous rotten bell- weather ; next to be compafs'd like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head ; and then to be ftopt in, like a ftrong diftillation, with (linking cloaths that fretted in their own greafe: think of that, a man of my kidney; think of that, that am as fubject to heat as butter 5 a man of continual diflblution and thaw, it was a miracle to 'fcape fuffbeation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half ftew'd in greafe, like a Dutch dim, to be thrown in- to the Thames, and cooTd glowing hot, in that furge, like a horfe-fhoe '; think of that* hiffing hot; think of that, mafter Brook, Ford. In good fadnefs, Sir, I am forry that for my fake you foffer'd all this. My fuit is then defperate; you'll undertake her no more? Fal. Mafter Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been into fhames, ere I will leave her thus. Her husband is this morning gone a birding ; I have receiv'd from her another embaffie of meeting ; 'twixt eight and nine is the hour, mafter Brook. Ford. 'Tis- paft eight already, Sir. Fal. Is it? I will then addrefc me to my appoint- ment. Come to me at your convenient leifure, and you fhall know how I fpeed; and the conclufion fhall be crown'd with your enjoying her 5 adieu, you fhall have her, mafter Brook \ mafter Brook, you {hall cuc- kold Ford- \_Exit. Ford. Hum! ha! is this a viflon? is this a dream? do I fleep? mafter Ford, awake; awake, mafteF Ford, there's a hole made in your beft coat, mafter Ford\ this 'tis to be married ! this 'tis to have linnen and buck-bas- ket* ! well, I will proclaim my felf what I am 5 I will now T 4 take sl8o The Merry Wives of Windfbr. take the leacher j he is at my houfe j he cannot 'fcapc me; 'tis impoffible, he fhouldj he cannot creep into, a half- penny purfe, nor into a pepper-box. But, left the devil that guides him fhould aid him, I will fearch impoffible places $ tho' what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not, mall not make me tame: if I have horns to make one mad, let the proverb go with ine, I'll be horn-mad. [Exit. A'g T IV. SCENE, Page'* houfe. j&nter Mifirefs Page, Mifirefs Quickly, and William. Mrs. Page. S, he at Mr. Ford's already, think'fi: thou? Quic. Sure, he is by this, or will be prefently $ but truly he is very courageous mad, about his throwing into the water 3 Mrs. Ford defi res you to come fuddenly. "Mrs. Page. I'll be with her by and by* I'll but bring my young man here to fchool. Look, where his mailer comes j 'tis a playing-day, I fee. How now. Sir Hugh, no fchool to day? Enter Evans. Eva. No j mafter Slender is let the boys leave to flay. f §uk. Blefling of his heart. Mrs. 'Page. Sir Hugh, my husband fays, my fon pro- fits nothing in the world at his book 5 I pray you, ask him fome queflions in his Accidence. Eva. Come hither, William 5 hold up your head, Come. v • Mrs. *fhe Merry Wives of Windfor. 281 Mrs. Page. Come on, Sirrah, hold up your head 5 anfwer your mafter, be not afraid. Eva. William, how many numbers is in nouns? Will. Two. Quic. Truly, I thought there had been one number more, becaufe they fay, od's nouns. Eva. Peace your tatlings. What is, Fair, William? Will. Pulcher. Quic. Poulcats ? there are fairer things than poulcats, {ure. Eva. You are a very fimplicity o'manj I pray you, peace. What is, Lapis, William? \ Will. A ftone. Eva. And what is a ftone, William? Will. A pebble. Eva. No, it is Laps: I pray you, remember in your prain. Will. 'Lapis. Eva. That is a good William : what is he, William, that does lend articles ? [ Will. Articles are borrow'd of the pronoun, and be thus declin'd, Jingulariter nominativo, hie, hac, hoc. Eva. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog; pray you, mark: genitivo, hujus : well, what is your accufative cafe? Will. Accufative, hinc. Eva. I pray you, have your remembrance, child j accufative, hung, hang, hog. S^uic. Hang hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. Eva. Leave your prabbles, o'man. What is the/tf- cative cafe, William? Will. O, vocativo, O. Eva. Remember, William, focative is caret. ghiic. And that's a good root. Eva. O'man, forbear. Mrs. Page. Peace. Eva. What is your genitive cafe plural, William? Will. Genitive cafe? Eva. Ay. Will. Genitive, horum, harum, horum. uic. i8* The Merry Wives of Windfor, » Quick. 'Vengeance of Ginyes czky fie on her> never name her, child, if fhe be a whore. Eva. For ftiarne, o'man. Quic. You do ill to teach the child fudt Words : he leaches him ro hick and to hack, which they'll do faft enough of themfelves* and to call horurtiy fie upon yon! Eva. O'man, art thou lunacies? haft thou no un- derftandings for thy cafes, and the numbers of the genders? thou art as foolifh chriftian creatures, as I Would defire. Mrs. Page. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace. Eva. Shew me now, William^ fome declenfions of your pronouns. Will. Forfooth, I have forgot. Eva. It is qui) qu he cannot abide the old woman of Brain* fords he fwears, fhe's a witch, forbad her my houfe, and hath threatned to beat her. Mrs. The Merry Wives of Windfor. 285 Mrs. Page. Heav'n guide him to thy husband's cud- gel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards! Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming? Mrs. Page. Ay, in good fadnefs is he ; and talks of the basket too, however he hath had intelligence. Mrs. Ford. We'll try that 5 for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did laft time. Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here prefentlyj let's go drefs him like the witch of Brainford. Mrs. Ford. I'll firft direct my men, what they {hall do with the basket 5 go up, I'll bring linnen for him ftraight. Mrs, Page. Hang him, difhoneft varlet, we cannot mifufe him enough. We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do, Wives may be merry, and yet honeft too. We do not aft, that often jeft and laugh : 'Tis old but true, Still pwine eats all the draugh. Mrs. Ford. Go, Sirs, take the basket again on your moulders } your mafter is hard at doorj if he bid you fet it down/ obey him: quickly, difpatch. [Exeunt Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford. Enter Servants with the basket. 1 Serv. Come, come, take up. z Serv. Pray heav'n, it be not full of the Knight again. 1 Serv. I hope not. I had as lief bear fo much lead. Enter Ford, Shallow, Page, Caius and Evans. Ford. Ay, but if it prove true, mafter Page, have you any way then to unfool me again ? fet down the basket, villain; fomebody call my wife: youth in a basket! oh you panderly rafcals, there's a knot, a gang, a pack, a confpiracy, againft me : now fhall the devil be iham'd. What! wife, I fay 5 come, come forth, behold what honeft cloaths you fend forth to bleaching. Page* i8r The Merry Wives of Windfor. Page. Why, this paffes, mafter Ford,' - ■ » you are hot to go loofe any longer, you muft be pinnion'd. Eva. Why, this is lunaticks > this is mad as a mad dog. Enter Mrs. Ford. Shal. Indeed, mafter Ford, this is not well, indeed. Ford. So fay I too, Sir. Come hither, miftrefs Ford% iniftrefs Ford, the honeft woman, the modeft wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her hus- band ! I fufpect without caufe, miftrefs, do I ? Mrs. Ford. Heav'n be my witnefs you do, if you fuf- pe£fc me in any diftionefty. Ford. Well faid, brazen-face > hold it out : come forth, Sirrah. {Pulls the cloatbs out of the basket. Page. This pafles>- ~~ Mrs. Ford. Are you not afham'd, let the cloaths alone. Ford. I fhall find you anon. Eva. 'Tis unreafonable ; will you take up your wife's cloaths? come away. Ford. Empty the basket, I fay. Mrs. Ford, Why, man, why? Ford. Mafter Page, as I am a man* there was one convey'd out of my houfe yefterday in this basket j why may not he be there again ? in my houfe I ant fure he is ; my intelligence is true, my jealoufie is rea- fonable; pluck me out all the linnen. Mrs. Ford. If jou find a man there* he fhall die a flea's death. Page. Here's no man. Shal. By my fidelity, this is not well* mafter Ford% this wrongs you. Eva. Mafter Ford* you muft pray, and not follow the, imaginations of your own heart j this is jealoufies. Ford. Well, he's not here I feek for. Page. No, nor no where elfe but in your brain. Ford. Help to fearch my hpufe this one time* if I find not what I feek, fhew np colour for my extre- mity > let me for ever be your table-fport -, let them fay of me, as jealous as Ford,- that fearched a hol- low The Merry ffhes of Wiodfor. 187 low wall- nut for his wife's leman. Satisfie me once more, once more fearch with me. Mrs. Ford. What hoa, miftrefs Page/ come you, and the old woman down* my husband will come into the chamber. Ford. Old woman! what old woman's that? Mrs. Ford. Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brainford. Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean^ have I not forbid her my hotife? (he comes of errands, does (he? we are fimple men, we do not know what's brought to pafs under the profeffion of fortune- telling* She works by charms, by fpells, by th' figure > and fuch dawbry as this is beyond our element 5 we know nothing. Come down, you witch 5 you hag you> come down, I fay. Mrs. Ford. Nay, good fweet husband 5 good gen- tlemen, let him not ftrike the old woman. Enter Falftaff in womens cloaths, and Mrs. Page. Mrs. Page, Come, mother Prat^ come, give me your hand. Ford. I'll Prat her. Out of my door, you witch I [Beats him.'] you hag, you baggage, you poulcat, you runnion! out, out, out) I'll conjure you, I'll fortune- tell you. [Exit Fah Mrs. Page. Are you not afham'd? I think, you have kill'd the poor woman. Mrs. Ford. Nay, he will do it 3 'tis a goodly credit for you. Ford. Hang her, witch. Eva. By yea and no, I think, the o'man is a witch indeed : I like not, when a o'man has a great peard -9 I fpy a great peard under her muffler. Ford. Will you follow, gentlemen? I befeech you* follow 5 fee but the iffue of my jealoufie$ (2.1) if I cry out (21) If I cry out thus upon no tryal, never trufl me when I open a- gain.l This is a Corruption of the modern Editions : the Confequence cither of Indolence, or Ignorance. The two firft Folio's have it rightly, trajle ; which is a hunting-terrrte, and correfponds with cry out, and open. Our f % 8 8 The Merry Wives of Wind/on out thus upon no trail, never truft me when I open a* gain. Page. Let's obey his humour a little further : come* gentlemen. [Exeunt. Mrs. Page. Truft me, he beat him moft pitifully. Mrs. Ford. Nay, by th' mafs, that he did not j he beat him moft unpitifully, methought. Mrs. Page. I'll have the cudgel hallow'd and hung o'er the altar j it hath done meritorious fervice. Mrs. Ford. What think you? may we, with the warrant of woman-hood, and the witnefs of a good confcience, purfue him with any further revenge ? Mrs. Page. The fpirit of wantonnefs is, fure, fcar'd out of him -, if the devil have him not in fee-fimple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of wafte, attempt us again. Mrs. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how we have ferved him? Mrs. Page. Yes, by all means j if it be but to fcrape the figures out of your husband's brain. If they can find in their hearts the poor linvirtuous fat Knight fhall be any further afflicted, we two will ftill be the minifters. Mrs. Ford. I'll warrant, they'll have him publickly fham'd -9 and, methinks, there would be no period to the jeft, mould he not be publickly fham'd. Mrs. Page. Come to the forge with it, then fliape it : I would not have things cool. [Exeunt; SCENE changes to the Garter-Inn. Enter Hoft and Bardolph. Bard. C IR, the German defires to have three of your ij horfes j the Duke himfelf will be to morrow at Court, and they are going to meet him. Hoft. What Duke ihould that be, comes fo fecret^ Our Author ufes the Word again twice in his Hamlet. Or elfe this Brain of mine bunts not the Trayle of Policy, &C. How cbearfully on the falfe trayle thej cry! The Merry Wives of Windfor. 289 ly? I hear not of him in the Court : let me fpeak with the gentlemen ; they fpeak Englijh ? Bard. Sir, I'll call them to you. Hoft. They fhall have my horfes, but I'll make them pay, I'll fawce them. They have had my houfe a week at command ; I have turn'd away my other guefts ; (u) they mull compt off; I'll fawce them, come. [Exeunt* SCENE changes to FordV houfe. Enter Page, Ford^ Miftrefs Page, Miftrefs Ford, and Evans. £<£>#. 'Hp IS one of the beft difcretions of a o'man, as A ever I did look upon. Page. And did he fend you both thefe letters at an inftant ? Mrs. Page. Within a quarter of an hour. Ford. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt; I rather will fufpeft the fun with cold, Than thee with wantonnefs \ thy honour Hands, In him that was of late an heretick, As firm of faith. Page. 'Tis well, 'tis well ; no more. Be not as extream in fubmiffion, as in offence; But let our Plot go forward : let our wives Yet once again, to make us publick fport, Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow, .Where we may take him, and difgrace him for it. Ford. There is no better way than That they fpokc of. Page. How? to fend him word they'll meet him in the Park at midnight? fie, fie, he'll never come. (22) — they muft come off.] This can never be our Poet's, or his Holt's, Meaning: to corns off, is, in other Terms, to go /cot -free; But thefe Ger- mans had taken up the Holt's houfe, and he was relolv'd to make them pay for it. We muft certainly, therefore, read, they muft compt off: i. e. they mult pay off the Accompt, or, as we how fay, down And three or four more of their growth, we'll drefg Like urchins, ouphes, and fairies, green and white, With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads, And rattles in their hands* upon a fudden, As Falftaff) me, and I, are newly met, Let them from forth a faw-pit rufh at once With fome difFufed fong : upon their fight, We two, in great amazednefs, will fly* Then let them all encircle him about, And fairy-like to pinch the unclean Knight, j And ask him why, that hour of fairy Revel* In their fo facred paths he dares to tread In mape prophane? Mrs. Ford. And 'till he tell the truth, Let the fuppofed fairies pinch him round* And burn him with their tapers. Mrs. Page. The truth being known, We'll all prefent our felves 5 dif-horn the fpirit* And mock him home to Windfor. Ford. The children muft Be pra&is'd well to this, or they'll ne'er do't. Eva. I will teach the children their behaviours 5 and 1 will be like a jack-anapes alfo, to burn the Knight with my taper. Ford. This will be excellent. I'll go buy themvizards; Mrs. Page. My Nan ihall be the Queen of all the fairies j Finely attired in a robe of white. Page. That filk will I go buy, and in that tire (14) (24) That Silk will I go buy, and in that time Shall Mr. Slender fleal, &c] What ! muft Slender Heal Mrs. Anne, while her Father goes to buy the Silk me was to be drefs' d in ? This was no part of the Scheme. Her Garb was to be the Signal for Slender to know her by. The Alteration of a hngle Letter gives us the Poet's Reading. Tire is as common with our Poet, and other Writers of his Age, as At- tire; to iignify, Drefs. And my Emendation is clearly juiti&ed, by What Fenton afterwards tells the Hoft. Her Father Means She Jhall be all in white, And in that Drefs, i The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Shall Mr. Slender fteal my Nan away, \_Afide, And many her at Eaton. Go, fend to Falftaff ftraight. Ford. Nay, I'll to him again in the name of Brook; he'll tell me all his Purpofe. Sure, he'll come. Mrs. Page. Fear not you that ; go get us Properties and Tricking for our fairies. Eva. Let us about it, it is admirable pleafures, and ferry honed knaveries. [_Ex. Page, Ford and Evans. Mrs. Page. Go, Mrs. Ford, Send Quickly to Sir John, to know his mind, (if) [Exit Mrs. Ford. I'll to the Doctor ; he hath my good will, And none but he, to marry with Nan Page. That Slender , tho' well landed, is an Ideot ; And he my husband befl of all affects : The Doctor is well mony'd, and his friends Potent at Court 5 he, none but he fhall have her; Tho' twenty thoufand worthier came to crave her. [Exit. SCENE changes to the Garter-Inn. Enter Hoft and Simple. Hoft.XTJ HAT would'fl thou have, boor? what, VV thick-skin? fpeak, breathe, difcufs} brief, ftiort, quick, map. Simp. Marry, Sir, I come to fpeak with Sir John Falftaff, from Mr. Slender. Hoft. There's his chamber, his houfe, his caftle, his (landing- bed and truckle-bed 3 'tis painted about with the ftory of the Prodigal, frefh and new 5 go, knock and call-, he'll fpeak like an anthropophaginian unto thee : knock, I fay. Simp. There's an old woman, a flit woman gone up (2;) Send quickly to Sir John, to knonv bis mind~\ The whole Set of printed Copies downwards have funk our Meffcnger here into an Adverb. Dame Quickly is the Perfon intended to be fent to Sir John; and accord- ingly when we next find her with him, She tells him, She comes from tU two parties i viz. Airs. Ford and Mrs, Page. into The Merry Wives of Windfor. 19$ into his chamber > I'll be fo bold as ftay, Sir, 'till fhe come down j I come to fpeak with her, indeed. Hoft. Ha ! a fat woman ? the Knight may be robb'd : I'll call. Bully-Knight! bully-Sir John! fpeak from thy lungs, military : art thou there? it is thine Hoft, thine Ephefian calls. Falftaff, above. Fal. How now, mine Hoft ? Hoft. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman : let her defcend, bully, let her defcend 5 my chambers are honourable. Fie, pri- vacy? fie! Enter Falftaff. Fal. There was, mine Hoft, an old fat woman even now with me, but fhe's gone. Simp. Pray you, Sir, was't not the wife woman of Brainford ? Fal. Ay, marry was it, mufTel-fhell, what would you with her? Simp. My mafter, Sir, my mafter Slender lent to her, feeing her go thro' the ftreet, to know, Sir, whether one Nym9 Sir, that beguil'd him of a chain, had the chain, or no. Fal. I fpake with the old woman about it. Simp. And what fays fhe, I pray, Sir ? Fal. Marry, fhe fays, that the very fame man, that beguil'd mafter Slender of his chain, cozen'd him of it. Simp. I would, I could have fpoken with the wo-* man her felf > I had other things to have fpoken with her too, from him. Fal. What are they? let us know. Hoft. Ay, come 5 quick. Simp. I may not conceal them, Sir. Fal. Conceal them, or thou dy'ft. Simp. Why, Sir, they were nothing but about mi- ftrefs Anne Page 5 to know, if it were my mailer's for- tune to have her or no. Fal. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune. Simp. What, Sir? Fal. To have her, or no : go 3 fay, the woman told me fo. U J Simp £24 ^e Merry ffives of Windsor. Simp. May I be fo bold to fay To, Sir? Fal. Ay, Sir*, like who more bold. Simp. I thank your worfhip : I fhall make my ma- iler glad with thefe tidings. [Exit Simple. Hoft. Thou art darkly y thou art darkly, Sir John: "Was there a wife woman with thee? Fal. Ay, that there was, mine Hoft ; one, that hath taught me more wit than ever I learn'd before in my life y and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning. Enter Bardolph. Bard, Out, alas, Sir, cozenage! meer cozenage! Hoft. Where be my hories? fpeak well of them, varletto. Bard. Run away with the cozeners •> for fo foon as I came beyond Eaton, they threw me off from behind one of them in a flough of mire, and fet fpurs, and awayj like three German devils, three Doctor Fau- fius%s. Hoft. They are gone but to meet the Duke, villain | $o not fay they be fled > Germans are honeft men. Enter Evans. Eva. Where is mine Hoft ? Hoft. What is the matter, Sir? Eva-. Have a care of your entertainments y there is a friend o'mine come to town, tells me, there is three cozen-jermans that has cozen'd all the Hofts of Rea- dings ^ of Maiden-head, of Cokbrook, of horfes and mo? ny. I tell you for good will, look you; you are wife, and full of gibes and vlouting-iiocks, and 'tis not con- venient you fhould be cozen'd > fare you well. [Exit. Enter Caius. Cains. Ver' is mine Hofi de Jarteer? Hoft. Here, mailer Doctor, in perplexity and doubt- ful dilemma. Cains. J cannot tell vat is dat-, but it is tell-a-me, dat you make a grand preparation for a Duke de Ja- many^ The Merry Wives of Windfor. z?$ many 9 by my trot, der is no Duke, dat the Court is know, to come : I tell you for good will j adieu. [_Ex. Hoft. Hue and cry, villain, go! affift me, Knight, I am undone 5 fly, run,, hue and cry! Villain, I am undone ! [Exit, Fal. I would, all the world might be cozen'd, for [ have been cozened and beaten too. If it mould come to the ear of the Court, how I have been transformed, and how my transformation hath been wauVd and cudgel'd, they would melt me out of my fat, drop by drop, and liquor fiihermens boots with me. I war- rant, they would whip me with their fine wits, 'till I Were as creft-faln as a dry'd pear. I never profper'd fince I forfwore my felf at Primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough to fay my prayers, I would re** pent.— « Enter Mijirefs Quickly, . Now, whence come you? §>uic. From the two parties, forfooth. Fal. The devil take one party, and his dam the other, and fo they {hall be both beftow'd. I have fuffer'd more for their fakes, more than the villainous incon- stancy of man's difpofition is able to bear. §)uic. And have not they fuffer'd? yes, I warrant, fpecioufly one of them y miftrefs Fordy good heart, is beaten black and blue, that you cannot fee a white fpot about her. Fal. What teli'ft thou me of black and blue ? I was beaten my felf into all the colours of the rain- bow y and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brainfordy but that my admirable dexterity of wit, counterfeiting the (2,6*) action of a wood woman, de- U 4 liver'd (26) AElion of an old Woman,'} This Reading is no great Compliment ^o the Sagacity of our former Editors, who could content themfelves with Words, without any regard to the Reafoning. What ! was it any Dex- terity of Wit in Sir John Falftaff, to counterfeit the Action of an Old- Woman in order to efcape being apprehended for a Witch ? Surely, one would imagine, This was the readied means to bring him into fuch a Scrape: for none but old Women have ever been iupected of being. Witcbtu z?>6 The Merry Wives of Windfor, liver'd me, the knave conftable had fet me i'th' Hocks, i'th' common flocks for a witch. §)uic. Sir, let me fpeak with you in your chamber 5 you {hall hear how things go, and, I warrant, to your content. Here is a letter will fay fomewhat. Good hearts, what ado is here to bring you together? fure, one of you does not ferve heav'n well, that you are fo crofs'd. Fal. Come up into my chamber. [Exeunt. Enter Fenton and Hoft. Hoft. Matter Fenton, talk not to me, my mind is heavy, I will give over all. Fent. Yet hear me fpeak > aflift me in my purpofe, And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee A hundred pound in gold more than your lofs. Hoft. I will hear you, mafter Fenton; and I will, at the leaft, keep your counfel. Fent. From time to time I have acquainted you With the dear love I bear to fair Anne Page; Who, mutually, hath anfwer'd my affe&ion, (So far forth as her felf might be her chufer) Ev'n to my wiih. I have a letter from her Of fuch contents, as you will wonder at> The mirth whereoPs fo larded with my matter, That neither fingly can be manifefled, Without the mew of both. Fat Sir John Falftaff Hath a great Scene 5 the image of the jefl Ml mew you here at large. Hark, good mine Hoft 5 To night at Heme's Oak, juft 'twixt twelve and one. Mud: my fweet Nan prefent the fairy Queen > The purpofe why, is herej in which dilguife, While other jefts are fomething rank on foot, Her father hath commanded her to flip Away with Slender, and with him at Eaton Witches. The Text muft certainly be reftofd, as I have corrected it, a wood Woman; /. e. a crazy, frantick Woman ; one too wild, and iilly, and unmeaning, to have cither the Malice, or mifchievous Subtlety cf a Witch in her. I have already explain'd, and prov'd the ufe of this Term, in one of my Notes on the 1%vo Gtritlcmen of Verona. Jmrne-* The Merry Wives of Windfor. 2^7 Immediately to marry 5 fhe hath confented. — Now, Sir, Her mother, ever ftrong againft that match, And firm for Doctor Caius, hath appointed That he fhall likewife fhuffle her away, While other fports are tasking of their minds; And at the Deanry, where a prieft attends, Straight marry her ; To this her mother's Plot She, feemingly obedient, likewife hath Made promife to the Doctor. — Now, thus it refts; Her father means fhe fhall be all in white, And in that drefs when Slender fees his time To take her by the hand, and bid her go, She fhall go with him. — Her mother hath intended, The better to devote her to the Doctor, (For they muft all be mask'd and vizarded) That, quaint in green, fhe fhall be loofe enrob'd, With ribbands-pendent, flaring 'bout her head ; And when the Doctor fpies his vantage ripe, To pinch her by the hand, and on that token, The maid hath given confent to go with him. Hoft. Which means fhe to deceive? father or mo- ther? Tent. Both, my good Hoft, to go along with me 5 And here it refts, that you'll procure the Vicar To flay for me at church, 'twixt twelve and one, And in the lawful name of marrying, To give our hearts united ceremony. Hoft. Well, husband your device; I'll to the Vicar. Bring you the maid, you fhall not lack a prieft. Fent. So fhall I evermore be bound to thee; Befide, I'll make a prefent recompence. [Exeunt. Re-enter FalftafF and Miftrefs Quickly. Fal. Pr'ythee, no more pratling; go, I'll hold. This is the third time; I hope, good luck lyes in odd num- bers; away, go 5 they fay, there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance or death ; away, §>uici I'll provide you a chain, and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns. {Exit Mrs. Quickly, Fal. *5>8 The Merry Wives of Windfor. Fal Away, I fay, time wears: hold up your head and mince. Enter Ford. How now, mafter Brook? mafter Brook, the mattes will be known to night, or never. Be you in the Park about mid- night, at Heme's oak, and you ftiali fee wonders. Ford. Went you not to her yefterday, Sir, as yoi* told me you had appointed ? Fal. I went to her, mafter Brook, as you fee, like a poor old man y but I came from her, mafter Brook, like a poor old woman. That fame knave, Ford her husband, hath the fineft mad devil of jealoufie in him, mafter Brooky that ever govern'd frenzy. I will tell you , he beat me grievoufly, in the fhape of a wo- man ; for in the fliape of a man, mafter Brook, I fear not Goliah with a weaver's beam ; becaufe I know alfo, life is a Ihuttle y I am in hafte ; go along with me, I'll tell you all, mafter Brook. Siqce I pluckt geefe, play'd truant, and whipt top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten, 'till lately. Follow me, I'll tell you ftrange things of this knave Ford, on whom to night I will be reveng'd, and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow; ftrange things in hand, mafter Brook* follow. — [Exeunt* A C T " V. S C E N E, Windfor-ParL Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Page. OME, come; we'll couch i'th' caftle-ditch* 'till we fee the light of our fairies. Remember, fon Slender, my daughter. Skn. Ay, forfooth, I have fpokc with her, and we have a nay-word how to know one another. I come to The Merry W'rues fl/Windfor- ip^ to her in white, and cry, mum > {he cries, budget > and by that we know one another. Shal. That's good tooi but what needs either your tnum^ or her budget? the white will decipher her well enough. It hath {truck ten o'clock. Page. The night is dark, light and fpirits will be- come it well ; heav'n profper our fport! No man means evil but the devil, and we fhall know him by his horns. Let's away -, follow me. [Exeunt. Enter Miftrefs Page, Miftrefs Ford and Caius. Mrs. Page. Mr. Doctor, my daughter is in green ; when you fee your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the Deanary, and difpatch it quickly 3 go before into the Park ; we two muft go together. Caius. I know vat I have to do 5 adieu. [Exit. Mrs. Page. Fare you well, Sir. My husband will pot rejoice fo much at the abufe of Falftaff^ as he will chafe at the Doctor's marrying my daughter 3 but 'tis no matter ; better a little chiding, than a great deal of heart-break. Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now, and her troop of fairies, (27) and the Welch devil Evans ? Mrs. Page. They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Heme's oak, with obfcur'd lights j which, at the very inftant of Falftaff's and our Meeting, they will at once difplay to the night. Mrs. Ford. That cannot chufe but amaze him. Mrs. Page. If he be not amaz'd, he will be mock'd| if he be amaz'd, he will every way be mock'd. Mrs. Ford. We'll betray him finely. (27) And the Welch Devil Heme ?] Thus all the Impreffions have blunder'd after each other ; but Faljlajf was to reprefent Heme, and he was no Welchman. Where was the Attention, or Sagacity, of our Edi- tors, not to obferve that Mrs. Fvrdis inquiring for Evans by the Name of the Welch Devil ? The Miftake, of the Word Heme getting into the Text, might eafily happen by the Inadvertence of Tranfcribers, who threw their Eyes too haftily on the fucceeding Line, where the Word again occurs. Dr. Tbirlby likewife difcover'd the Blunder of this Paf- kge. Mrs," 300 The Merry Wives 0/Windfbr. Mrs. Page. Againft fuch lewdfters, and their lechery, Thofe, that betray them, do no treachery. Mrs. Ford. The hour draws on ; to the oak, to the oak. [Exeunt. Enter Evans and Fairies. Eva. Trib, trib, fairies $ come, and remember your parts : be pold, I pray you 5 follow me into the pit 5 and when I give the watch-'ords, do as I pid you : come, come j trib, trib. [Exeunt. Enter Falftaff, with a Buek?s head on. Fah The Windfor bell hath ftruqk twelve, the mi- nute draws on> now the hot-blooded Gods affift me! Remember, Jove, thou waft a bull for thy Europa •, love fet on thy horns. Oh powerful love! that, in fome refpects, makes a beaft a man j in fome other, a man a beaft : You were alfo, Jupiter, a fwan, for the love of Leda : oh, omnipotent love ! how near the God drew to the complexion of a goofe? A fault done firft in the form of a beaft, — OJove, a beaftly fault j and then another fault in the femblance of a fowl : — think on't, Jove, a foul fault. When Gods have hot backs, what mall poor men do ? for me, I am here a JVindfor ftag, and the fatteft, I think, i'th' foreft. Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to pifs my tallow ? who comes here? my Doe ? Enter Mifirefs Ford and Miftrefs Page. Mrs. Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my male- deer r Fah My doe with the black fcut ? let the sky rain potatoes-, let it thunder to the tune of Green- Sleeves; hail kiffing-comfits, and fnow eringoes 5 let there come a tempeft of provocation, I will fhelter mQ here. . . Mrs. Ford. Miftrefs Page is come with me, lwect heart. 1 Fal The Merry Wives of Windfor. 3 o 1 Fal. (2.8) Divide me like a bribe-buck, each a haunch * I will keep my fides to my felf, my moulders for the fel* low of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your huf- bands. Am I a woodman, ha? Speak I like Herns the hunter ? why, now is Cupid a child of confcience, he makes reftitution. As I am a true fpirit, welcome ! [Noife within. Mrs. Page. Alas ! what noife ? Mrs. Ford. Heav'n forgive our fins ! Fal. What mould this be ? Mrs. Ford. Mrs. Page. Away, away. [The women run out. Fal. I think, the devil will not have me damn'd, left the oil that is in me ftiould fet hell on fire -, he never would elfe crofs me thus. Enter Sir Hugh like a Satyr 5 Quickly, and others^ drefi like Fairies^ with Tapers. Quic. Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, You moon-mine revellers, and {hades of night, You Ouphen-heirs of fixed deftiny, (io) Attend your office, and your quality. Crier hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes. Eva. Elves, lift your names 5 filence, you airy toys. Cricket, to IVindfor chimneys malt thou leap ; Where fires thou find'ft unrak'd, and hearths unfwept, (28) Divide me like a brib'd-Buck,] Thus all the old Copies, mif takingly : It muft be, bribe-buck ; i. e. a Buck fent for a Bribe. I made the Corre&ion in my SHAKESPEARE Reftord; and Mr. Pope has reform'd the PafTage by it, in his laft Edition. (29) You orphan-^z>i of] Why, Orphan-heirs? Deftiny, to which they ow'd their Original, and to whom they were heirs, was yet in Be- ing Cure : therefore they could not be call'd Orphans. Doubtlefs the Poet wrote ; You Ouphen-^zVx of fixed Deftiny. i. e. You Elves, that fucceed to, and minifter in, fome of the Works of Deftiny. They are adfd both before and after, in this Play, Ouphs , here, Ouphen : for en is either the Saxon Termination of plural Nouns; (the Word it felf being from the Saxon Alpenne, lamia, damones ;) or the Termination of an Adjedlive, form'd from a Noun ; as wooden, woollen, golden, brazen, Sec. ]Vlr. JVarburton. There $bi The Merry Wives of Windfbr. There pinch the maids as blew as bilbery. Our radiant Queen hates fluts and fluttery. Fal They're fairies $ he, that fpeaks to them, mall die. I'll wink and couch 5 no man their works muft eye. [_Lyes clown upon his Face. Eva. Where's Peck ? go you, and where you find a maid, That, ere fhe deep, hath thrice her prayers faid, Raife up the organs of her fantafie y Sleep ihe as found as carelefs infancy > But thofe, that deep, and think not on their fins, Pinch them* arms, legs,- backs, moulders, fides and fhins. Quic. About, about 5 Search IVindfor caftle, elves, within and out. Strew good luck, ouphes, on every facred room^ That it may (land 'till the perpetual Doom, In {late as wholfom, as in (late 'tis fit} Worthy the owner, as the owner it (30). The feveral chairs of Order look you fcour, With juice of balm and ev'ry precious flow'r 5 Each fair Inftalment-Coat and fev'ral Creft, With loyal blazon evermore be bleft ! And nightly-meadow-fairies, look, you fingi Like to the G^r/er-compafs, in a ring : Th' expreflure that it bears, green let it be, IV! ore fertile-frefh than all the field to fee -y And, Hony Soit Qui Mai y Penfe write, In emrold- tuffs, flow'rs purple, blue and white* Like faphire, pearl, and rich embroidery, Buckled below fair Knight-hood's bending knee 3 Fairies ufe flow'rs for their charactery. Away, difperfe ; but, 'till 'tis one o'clock ; Our dance of cuftoin round about the Oak (30) ■ and the Owner zV.] And cannot be the true Reading, both becaufe the Grammar of the Sentence will not allow it, and hi* Court to Queen Elizabeth direfts to another Reading ; as the Owner it. for, flue, he would not wifh a Thing, which his Complaifance and Ad- drsfs n.uil fuppofe actually was; viz. the Worth of thi Owner. Mr. WarburMn. of if he Merry Wives of Windfor. $ 0 j &f Fferne, the hunter, let us not forget. Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand, your felves in order fet: And twenty glow-worms fliall our lanthorns be, To guide our meafure round about the tree. But ftay, I fmell a man of middle earth. FaL Hea.v'ns defend me from that Welch fairy, left he transform me to a piece of cheefe! Eva, Vild worm, thou waft o'er-look'd ev'n in thy birth. Ghiic. With tryal-fire touch me his finger-end j If he be chafte, the flame will back defcend* And turn him to no pain 5 but if he ftart, It is the flefti of a corrupted heart. Eva. A tryal, come.- \fthey bum him "with their tapers, and pinch him* Come, will this wood take fire? FaL Oh, oh, oh! 6)uic. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in defire ; About him, fairies, fing a fcornful rhime : And as you trip, ftill pinch him to your time. Eva, (51) It is right, indeed, he is full of leacheries and iniquity. The SON G. Fie on Jinful fhantafie : Fie on luft and luxury: Luft is but a bloody fire* Kindled with unchafte deftre^ Fed in^ heart whofe flames afpire^ As thoughts do bbw them higher and higher. Pinch him? fairies ^ mutually y Pinch him for his villany : Pinch him^ and burn him, and turn him about $ w *jTM candle s, and ft 'ar- light , and moon-Jhine be out. {52.) During this Song, they pinch him, Docl or Caius comes one way, and fteals away a Boy in green 5 Slender* (31) Eva. It is right, indeed:"] This ftiort Speech, which is very much in Character for Sir Hugh, I have inferted from the old Quarto. (32) During this Song,] This Dire&ion I thought proper to infert from the old Quarto's, as it is neceffary to explain what is in Adlion on the Scene j and on which a Part of the QataJIrofhe q£ thG Fable depends. another 3 ©4 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. another way^ and he takes away a Boy in white 5 and Fenton comes y and fteals away Mrs. Anne Page. A Noife of hunting is made within. All the Fairies run away. Falftaff pulls off his Buck's head, and rifes. Enter Page, Ford, &V. they lay hold on him. Page. Nay, do not fly j I think, We've watcht you now 3 Will none but Heme the hunter ferve your turn ? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come 5 hold up the j eft no higher. Now, good Sir John, how like you Windfor wives? See you thefe, husbands ? do not thefe fair Yoaks (33) Become the Foreft better than the Town ? Ford. Now, Sir, who's a cuckold now ? mafter Brook, Falftaff ys a knave, a cuckoldly knave, here are his horns, mafter Brook-, and mafter Brook, he hath en- joy'd nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of mony, which muft be paid to mafter Brook > his horfes are arrefted for it, mafter Brook. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck •, we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer. Fal. I do begin to perceive, that I am made an ate. Ford. Ay, and an ox too : both the proofs are ex- tant. Fal. And thefe are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies ; and yen the guiltinefs of my mind, the fudden furprize of my (33) See you thefe husbands? Do not thefe fair Oaks Become the Foreft better than the Town ? ] What Oaks, in the Name of Nonfenfe, do our fagacious Editors make Mrs. Page talk of? The Oaks in the Park ? But there was no Intention of tranfplanting them into the Town. — — Me quidem pudet, pigetque. The firft Foli§ reads, as the Poet intended, Yoaks : and Mrs. Page's Meaning is this. She fpeaks to her own, and Mrs. Ford's husband, and asks them, if they fee the Horns in Falftaff* hand ; and then alluding to them as the Types of Cuckoldom, puts the Queftion, whether thofe Teaks are not more proper in the Foreft dim in the Town: i.e. than in their Families, a» a Reproach to them. powers, The Merry JVives of Wiadfbr. 3 of powers, drove the grofsnefs of the foppery into a re- ceiv'd belief, in defpight of the teeth of all rhime and reafon, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill imploy- ment. Eva. Sir JohnFalftaff, ferve Got, and leave your de- fires, and fairies will not pinfe you. Ford. Well faid, fairy Hugh. Eva, And leave you your jealouzies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never millruft my wife again, 'till thou art able to woo her in good Englijh. Fat. Have I laid my brain in the fun and dry'd it, that it wants matter to prevent fo grofs o'er-reaching as this ? am I ridden with a JVelch goat too ? fhall 1 have a coxcomb of frize ? 'tis time, I were choak'd with a piece of toafted cheefe. Eva. Seefe is not good to give putter $ your pelly is all putter. Fal. Seefe and putter? have I liv'd to ftand in the taunt of one, that makes fritters of Englijh ? this is e- nough to be the decay ofluftand late- walking, through the Realm. Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thruft virtue out of our hearts by the head and fhoulders, and have given our felves without fcruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? (54) Mrs. Page. A puft man ? Page. Old, cold, wither'd, and of intolerable en* trails ? Ford. And one that is as ilanderous as Satan? Page. And as poor as Job ? (34) What, a hog's pudding P~\ Mr. Pope has helped us 'to this hogs- pudding ; all the ether Editions, which 1 have feen, have it righdy hodge-pudding, as it is vulgarly written and pronounc'd ; the French call, to fhake, or jumble together, hocher : and they have a Difti call'd, un hoche-pot, which is a Mixture of feveral Sorts of Meats cook'd up toge- ther. They likewife call it, un p:t pourri : (lays Richslet) a Dilh, made up of feveral Meats macerated : and fuch a Gallimaufry, does lord mean, is Faljlajf, Vol. I. X Ford: }o£ The Merry Waives of Windfor. F#rd. And as wicked as his wife? Evk. And given to fornications, and to taverns* &hd facks, and wines, and metheglins, and to drink- frigs, and fwearings, and darings, pribbles and prab* bles? Fal. Well, f am your theme 5 you have the Hart of me; I am dejected $ I am not able toanfwer the Welch flannel j ignorance it felf is a plummet o'er me 5 ufe me as you will. Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windfor to one Mr. Brooke that you have cozen'd of mony, to whom you fliould have been a pander : over and above that you have fuffer'd, I think, to repay that mony will' be a biting afficlrion. (jf) Mrs. Ford, Nay, husband, let That go to make amends : Forgive that Summ, and fo we'll all be Friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand -, all's forgiven at iaft. Phge. Yet be cheerful, Knight > thou ihalt eat a pof- fet to night at my houfe, where I will dell re thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her, Mr. Slender hath marry'd her daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that j if dnne Page be my daughter, ihc is, by this, Doctor Cains' 's wife. £/fftde. Enter Slender. Slen. What hoe! hoe! father Page ? Page. Son, how now? how now, ion, have you dif* patch'd ? Slen. Difpatch'd ? I'll make the bell in Gloucefterjhire know on't> would I were hang'd la, elfe. Page. Of what, fon ? (35) Mrs. Ford. Nay, hushandi] This and the following little Speech J have in-ferted from the old Quarto's. The Retrenchment, I preliime, was by the Players ; and an injudicious One, in my Opinion. Sir John Faljtaf is defign'd the Favourite Character in the Play. His Vice* are the Subject of all the Pleafantry : and he is fufficiently punifh'd, in being difappointed and expos'd. The Expe&ation of his being perfe- c ted for the twenty Pounds, gives the Conclufion too tragical a Turn. Fe ides, it is poctick Jvjlice that Ford fhoukl fuilain this Lofs, as a Fine ior his unreafonabic Jcalcufy. Page, 7&f Merry tVfocs of Windfon 507 Slen. I came yonder at Zfo/0» to marry miftrefs Anne Page, and fhe's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i'th' church, 1 would have fwing'd him, or he mould have fwing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never ftir, and 'tis a poil- mafter's-boy. Page. Upon my life, then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that ? I think fo, when I took a boy for a girl : if I had been marry 'd to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Page. Why* this is your own folly. £)id not I teli you, how you fliould know my daughter by her gar- ments ? Slen. I went to her in white and cry'd mum* and fhe cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed^ and yet it was not Anne, but a poft-mafter's boy. Eva. Jefhu ! Matter Slender^ cannot you fee but marry boys ? Page. O, I am vext at Heart. What (hall I do ? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry ; I knew cf your purpofe, turn'd my daughter into green, and, indeed, {he is now with the Doctor at the Deanery, and there married. Mnier Caius. Caius. Ver is miftrefs Page ? by gar, I am tozen'd % 1'ha' marryM one garfdon, a boy j one peafant, by gar. A boy ; it is not Anne Page 5 by gar, I am cozen'd. Mrs. Page. Why? did you not take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy j be gar^ I'll raife all Wind for. Ford. This is ftrange! who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart mifgives me) here comes Mr. Few. ton. Enter Fenton, and Anne Page. How now, Mr. Fenton ? Anne, Pardon, good father 5 good my mother, par- don. X % Page. 3 ©8 The Merry Wives of Windfbr. Page. Now, miftrefs, how chance you went not with Mr. Slender ? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with Mr. Do£tor, maid? Pent. You do amaze her : Hear the truth of it. You would have marry'd her mod fhamefully, Where there was no proportion held in love : The truth is, flie and I, long fince contradted, Are now fo fure, that nothing can diffolve us. Th' offence is holy, that fhe hath committed ; And this deceit lofes the name of craft, Of difobedience, or unduteous title j Since therein flie doth evitate and fhun . A thoufand irreligious curfed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Ford. Stand not amaz'd, here is no remedy. In love, the heav'ns themfelves do guide the ftate > Money buys lands, and wives are fold by fate. Pal. I am glad, tho' you have ta'en a fpecial Stand to ftrike at me, that your arrow hath glanc'd. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton^ heav'n give thee What cannot be efchew'd, muft be embrae'd. Eva. I will alfo dance and eat plums at your Wed- ding. Pal. When night-dogs run, all forts of deer are chae'd. Mrs. Page. Well, I will mufe no further. Mr.Fen- Uftj Heav'n give you many, many merry days. Good husband, let us every one go home, And laugh this fport o'er by a country fire, Sir John and all. Ford. Let it be fo : — Sir John^ , To mailer Brook you yet (hall hold your word; I or he, to night, fhall lye with miftrefs Ford. [Exe. Omm. M E A- MEASURE FOR MEASURE. X? Dramatis Perfonas. VINCENTIO, Duke of Vienna. Angelo, Lord Deputy in- the Bute's ah fence. Efcalus \ an anc*ent Lor dy join? d with Angela in iht 5 5 Deputation. Claud io, a young gentleman. Lucio, a fantafiick. j[wo Gentlemen. Varrius, a gffllemtat, fervant to the Duke+ Provoft. Thomas, 7 _ ,N p > two Friars. jd Juftice. Elbow, a fimple Conftable. Froth, a foolifo gentleman. Clown, Servant to Mrs. Over-doxv Abhorfon, an executioner. Jkrnardine, a dijfolute prifoner, Ifabella, fifter to Claudio. Marina, betrothed to Angela,. Juliet, beloved, of Claudio. Francifca, a Nun. Mifirefs Over-don, a bawd. Guards^ Officer s.y and other attendants, SCENE, Vienna. ME A- Measure^ Measure. A C T I. SCENE, the Duke's PALACE. Enter Duke, Efcalus, and Lords. Duke. mSCALUS^ Efcah My Lord. Duke. Of Government the properties t'un- fold, Would feem in me t'affecl: fpeech and dif- courfe. Since I am not to know, that your own Science Exceeds, in that, the lifts of all advice My ftrength can give you: then no more remains: (i) X 4 Pux (i) then no more remaines : Put that to your Sufficiency, as your Worth is able, And let them wort ] I doubt not, but this PafTage, either from the Im- pertinence of the Actors, or the Negligence of the Copyifts, has come maim'd to us. In the firft Place, what an unmeafurable, inharmonious, Verfe have we here; and, then, how lame is the Senfe! What was Efcalus to put to his Sufficiency ? Why, his Science. But his Science and his Sufficiency were but One and the fame Tiling. On what then does the Relative, them, depend? The old Editions read thus. 'Then no more remaines, But that to your Sufficiency, as your W&rih is able, And let them work. Here, again, the Senfe is manifeftly lame and defective, and as th* Verification is fo too, they concur to make me think, a Line has acci- dentally been left out. Perhaps, fomething like This might fupply our Author's Meaning. — Tim 3 ix Measure/^ Measure.^ Put that to your fufficiency, as your worth is able, And let them work. The nature of our people, Our city's inftitutions, and the terms Of common juftiee, y'are as pregnant in, As art and pra&ice hath enriched any That we remember. There is our Commiflion, From which we would not have you warp. Call hither, I fay, bid come before us Angelo : What figure of us, think you, he will bear ? For you muft know, we have with fpecial foul Elected him our Abfence to fupplyj Lent him our Terror, dreft him with our Love* And giv'n his Deputation all the organs Of our own Power: fay, what think you of it? Efcal. If any in Vienna be of worth To undergo fuch ample grace and honour, It is lord Angelo. Enter Angelo. Duke. Look, where he comes. Ang. Always obedient to your Grace's will, I come to know your pleafure. Duke. Angelo , There is a kind of character in thy life, That to th' obferver doth thy hiftory Fully unfold : thy felf and thy belongings Are not thine own fo proper, as to wafte Thy felf upon thy virtues ; they on thee. Heav'n doth with us, as we with torches do, 'Then no more remains, But that to your Sufficiency you add Due Diligency, as your Worth is able', And let them 1 am found. " Lucio. Nay, not as one would fay healthy , but fo found, as things that are hollow \ thy bones are hol- low y impiety hath made a feaft of thee. Enter Bawd. i Gent. How now, which of your hips has the moft profound fciatica? Bawd. Well, well j there's one yonder arretted, and carry'd to prifon, was worth five thoufand of you all. i Gent. Who's that, I pr'ythee? Bawd. Marry, Sir, that's Claudio ; Signior Claudio. i Gent. Claudio to prifon? 'tis not fo. Bawd. Nay, but I know, 'tis foj I faw him ar- retted 5 faw him carry'd away; and, which is more, within thefe three days his head is to be chopt off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it fo : art thou fure of this ? Bawd. 1 am too fure of itj and it is for getting madam Julietta with child. Lucio. Believe me, this may be ; he promifed to meet me two hours fince, and he was ever precife in promife-keeping. z Gent. Befides, you know, it draws fomething near to the fpeech we had to fuch a purpofe. i Gent. But moft of all agreeing with the Procla- mation. Lucio. Away, let's go learn the truth of it. [Exe. rona Veneris. To this, I think, our Author likewife makes Quince allude in Midfummer Nighfs Dream. Some of your French Crowns have no hair at all, and then you nvilt flay bare-faced. As B. Jonfin does likewife in Cynthia s Revels. Afot. /, Sir, Til ajfureyou, tis a Beaver. It coft me eight Crowns hut this morning. Amo. After your Trench Account ? Afot. Tes, Sir. Cri. And fo near his Head? — Bejhrenju me, dangerous. For where thefe Eruptions are, the Skull is carious, and the Party be- comes bald. planet Measure/^ Measure. 317 Manet Bawd. Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the fweat, what with the gallows, and what with pover- ty, I am cuftom-fhrunk. How now ? what's the news with you? Enter Clown. Clown. Yonder man is carry 'd to prifon. Bawd. Well > what has he done ? Clown. A woman. Bawd. But what's his offence? Clown. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Bawd. What ? is there a maid with child by him ? Clown. No 5 but there's a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the Proclamation, have you? Bawd. What Proclamation, man ? Clown. All houfes in the fuburbs of Vienna mud r^e pluck'd down. Bawd. And what fliall become of thofe in the city? Clown. They {hall fland for feed •, they had gone down too, but that a wife burger put in for them. Bawd. But fliall all our houfes of refort in the fub- urbs be pull'd down? Clown. To the ground, miftrefs. Bawd. Why, here's a change, indeed, in the corn- man wealth j what lhall become of me? Clown. Come, fear not you 5 good counfellors lack no clients -9 though you change your place, you need not change your trade : I'll be your tapfter flill. Cou- rage, there will be pity taken on you ; you that have worn your eyes almoft out in the fervice, you will be confidered. Bawd. What's to do here, "Thomas Tapfler? let's withdraw. Clown. Here comes Signior Claudio^ led by the Pro- voft to prifon 5 and there's Madam Juliet. [_Ex. Bawd and Clown. Enter Provoft, Claudio, Juliet, and Officers. Lucio and two Gentlemen. Claud. Fellow, why doft thou fhow me thus to th* world ? Bear p8 Measure/^ Measu^ Bear me to prifon, where I am committed. Prov. I do it not in evil difpofition, But from lord Jngelo by fpecial charge; Claud. Thus can the Demi-god, Authority, Make us pay down, for our offence, by weight The words of heaven j on whom it will, it will 5 On whom it will not, fo$ yet ftill 'tis juft. Lucio. Why how now, Claudio? whence comes this re (train t ? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucky liberty j As furfeit is the father of much faft, So every fcope by the immod'rate ufe Turns to reftraint : our natures do purfue, Like rats that ravin down their proper bane* A thirfty evil ; and when we drink, we die. Lucio. If I could fpeak fo wifely under an arreft, t \vould fend for certain of my creditors} and yet, to fay the truth) I had as lief have the foppery of free- dom, as the morality of imprifonment : what's thy of* fence, Claudio ? Claud. What, but to fpeak of, would offend again. Lucio. What is't, murder? Claud. No. Lucio. Letchery? Claud. Call it fo. Prov. Away* Sir, you muft go. Claud. One word, good friend:— Lucio, a word with you. Lucio. A hundred -, if they'll do you any good : is letchery fo look'd after ? Claud. Thus ftands it with me; upon a true con- tract I got poffefliori of Julietta's bed, (You know the lady,) ihe is faft my wife 5 Save that we do the denunciation lack Of outward order. This we came not to, Only for propagation of a dower Remaining in the coffer of her friends; From whom we thought it meet to hide our love* Till cime had made them for us. But it chances, The Measure/^ Measure. 51? The ftealth of our moil mutual entertainment, With character too grofs, is writ on Juliet, Lucio. With child, perhaps? Claud. Unhappily, even fo. And the new Deputy now for the Duke, (Whether it be the fault, and glimpfe, of newnefs> Or whether that the body publick be A horfe whereon the Governor doth ride, Who, newly in the feat, that it may know He can command, lets it ftrait feel the fpurj Whether the tyranny be in his Place, Or in his eminence that fills it up, I ftagger in:)~ but this new Governor Awakes me all th' enrolled penalties, Which have, like unfeour'd armour, hung by th' wall So long, that nineteen Zodiacks have gone round, (4) And none of them been wornj and, for a name, Now puts the drowfie and neglected A£fc Freflily on me 5 'tis, furely, for a name. Lucio. I warrant, it isj and thy head ftands fo tickle on thy fhoulders, that a milk-maid, if flic be in love;, may figh it off. Send after the Duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done fo, but he's not to be found. I pr'ythee, Lucio^ do me this kind fervice: This day my Sifter mould the Cioifter enter, And there receive her Approbation. Acquaint her with the danger of my (late, Implore her, in my voice, that fhe make friends To the ftricl: Deputy 5 bid her fclf allay him -9 I have great hope in that 5 for in her youth There is a prone and fpeechlefs dialecl:, Such as moves men ! befide, ihe 'hath profp'rous art When fhe will play with reafon and difcourfe, And well ihe can perfuade. (4) So long, that nineteen Zodiacks haos gone. rgund^\ The Duke, in the Scene immediately following, fays, Which for thefe fourteen Tears r Measure. Tongue far from heart) play with all virgins fo. I hold you as a thing en-sky'd, and fainted j By your renouncement, an immortal Spirit 5 And to be talk'd with in fincerity, As with a Saint. Ifab. You do blafpheme the good, in mocking me. Luck. Do not believe it. Fewnefs, and truth, *tif thus } Your, brother and his lover having embrac'd, As thofe that feed grow full, as bloflbming time That from the feednefs the bare fallow brings To teeming foyfon 5 fo her plenteous womb Exprefleth his full tilth and husbandry. Ifab. Some one with child by him ?— — my coufin 'Juliet ? Lucio. Is fhe your coufin ? Ifab. Adoptedly, as fchool- maids change their names, By vain, tho' apt, affe&ion. Lucio. She it is. Ifab. CX let him marry her. Lucio. This is the point. The Duke is very ftrangely gone from hence j Bore many gentlemen, my felf being one, In hand and hope of a&ion -, but we learn, By thofe that know the very nerves of State, His Givings out were of an infinite diftance From his true- meant Defign. Upon his place, And with full line of his authority, Governs lord Angelo 3 a man whofe blood Is very fnow-broth ; one who never feels The wanton flings and motions of the fenfe ; But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge With profits of the mind, ftudy and faft. He, (to give fear to ufe and liberty, "Which have long time run by the hideous law, As mice by lyons*,) hath pickt out an Aft, Under whofe heavy fenfe your brother's life Falls into forfeit-, he arreits him on ic > And follows clofe the rigor of the Statute, To make him an example 5 all hope's gone, Unlefs Measure^ Measure. 315 Unlefs you have the grace by your fair prayer To fofcen Angelo j and that's my Pith of bufincfs 'Twixt you and your poor brother. Ifab. Doth he fo. Seek for his life? Lucio. H'as cenfur'd him already j •And, as I hear, the Provoft hath a Warrant For's execution. Ifab. Alas ! what poor Ability's in me, to do him good ? Lucio. AfTay the power you have. Ifab. My* power? Alas! I doubt. Lucio. Our doubts are traitors $ And make us lofe the good, we oft might win, By fearing to attempt. Go to lord Angelo^ And let him learn to know, when maidens fue, Men give like Gods j but when they weep aqd kneel, All their petitions are as truly theirs, As they themfelves would owe them. Ifab. Pll fee what 1 can do. Lucio. But, fpeedily. Ifab. I will about it ftrait ; No longer flaying, but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you; Commend me to my brother : foon at night Pll fend him certain word of my fuccefs. Lucio. I take my leave of you. Ifab. Good Sir, adieu. [Exeunt* Y 3 ACT k A jid Measure for Measure, A C T II. SCENE, The Palace. Enter Angela, Efcalus, a Juftice, and attendant*. A N G E L O. WE muft not make a fcare-crow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one fhape, 'till cuftom make it Their pearch, and not their terror. Efcal. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall, and bruife to death. Alas! this gentleman, Whom I would fave, had a moft noble father $ JLet but your Honour know, Whom I believe to he moft ftrait in virtue, That, in the working of your own affections, Had time coher'd with place, or place with wifliing, Or that the refolute afting of your blood Could have attain'd th' effe£t of your own purpofej Whether you had not fometime in your life JLrr'd in this point, which now you cenfure him^ And pull'd the law upon you.. Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Efcalusr Another thing to fall. I not deny, The jury, paffing on the prifoner's life, May in the fworn twelve have a thief or two, Guiltier than him they try 5 what's open made to juftice, That juftice feizes on. What know the laws, That thieves do pafs on thieves ? 'tis very pregnant^ The jewel that we find, we ftoop and take't, Becaufe we fee it \ but what we do not fee, We tread upon, and never think of it. You may not fo extenuate his offence, Measure/^ Measure. 317 For I have had fuch faults > but rather tell me, When I, that cenfure him, do To offend, , JL,et mine own judgment pattern out my death, And nothing come in partial. Sir, he mult die. Enter Provoft. EfcaL Be't, as your Wifdom will. Ang. Where is the Provoft ? Prov. Here, if it like your Honour. Ang. See, that Claudio Be executed by nine to morrow morning. Bring him his Confeflbr, let him be prepar'd j For that's the utmoft of his pilgrimage. — Exit Prov. EfcaL Well, heav'n forgive him ! and forgive us ail ; Some rife by fin, and fome by virtue fall : Some run through brakes of vice, and anfwer none * And fome condemned for a fault alone. Enter Elbow, Froth, Clown, and Officers. Elb. Come, bring them away ; if thefe be good peo- ple in a common-weal, that do nothing but ufe their abufes in common houfes, I know no law* bring them away. Ang. How now, Sir, what's your name? and what's the matter ? Elb. If it pleafe your Honour, I am the poor Duke's conftable, and my name is Elbow \ I do lean upon juftice, Sir, and do bring in here before your good Honour two notorious benefactors. Ang. Benefactors ? well ; what benefactors are they ? are they not malefactors ? Elb. If it pleafe your Honour, I know not well what they are •, but precife villains they are, that I am fure of j and void of all profanation in the world, that good chriftians ought to have. EfcaL This comes off well ; here's a wife Officer. Ang. Go to : what quality are they of? Elbow is your name ? Why dofl: thou not fpeak, Elbow ? Clown. He cannot, Sir ; he's out ac elbow. Y 4 -^ 318 Measure for Measure. Ang, What are you, Sir ? Elb. He, Sir? a tapfter, Sir $ parcel-bawd 5 one that ferves a bad woman 5 whofe houfe, Sir, was, as they fay, pluckt down in the fuburbs ; and now fhe profefles a hot-houfe 5 which, I think, is a very ill houfe too. Efcal. How know you that ? Elb. My wife, Sir, whom I deteft before heav'n and your Honour, — — • Efcal. How ! thy wife ? Elb. Ay, Sir ; whom, I thank heav'n, is an honeft woman ; — Efcal. Doft thou deteft her therefore ? Elb. I fay, Sir, I will deteft my feif alfo, as well as {he, that this houfe, if it be not a bawd's houfe, it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty houfe. Efcal. How doil thou know that, conftable ? Elb. Marry, Sir, by my wife 5 who, if {he had been a woman cardinally given, might have been accufed in fornication, adultery, and all uncleannefs there. Efcal. By the woman's means ? Elb. Ay, Sir, by miftrefs Over-dorfs means, but as fhe fpit in his face, fo fhe defy'd him. Clown. Sir, if it pleafe your Honour, this is not fo. Elb. Prove it before thefe varlets here, thou honou- rable man, prove it. Efcal. Do you hear, how he mifplaces ? Clown. Sir, fhe came in great with child ; and long- ing (favingyour Honour's reverence) for flew'd prewns 5 Sir, we had but two in the houfe, which at that very diftant time flood, as it were, in a fruit-dim, a difh of fome three pence -, (your Honours have feen fuch dimes * they are not China dimes, but very good difhes.) Efcal. Go to, go to > no matter for the difh, Sir. Clown. No, indeed, Sir, not of a pin> you are there- in in the right : but to the point j as I fay, this mif- trefs ElbozV) being, as I fay, with child, and being great belly'd, and longing, as I faid, for prewns > and having but Two in the difh, as I faid 5 mailer Froth here, this very man, having eaten the reft, as I laid, and, Measure/^ Measure. 31^ and, as I fay, paying for them very honeftlyj for, as you know, mafter Froth, I could not give you three pence again. Froth. No, indeed. Clown. Very well 5 you being then, if you be re- membred, cracking the ftones of the forefaid prewns. Froth. Ay, fo 1 did, indeed. Clown. Why, very well* I telling you then, if you be remembred, that fuch a one, and fuch a one, were paft cure of the thing you wot of, unlefs they kept very- good diet, as I told you. * Froth. All this is true. Clown. Why, very well then. Efcal. Come, you are a tedious fool ; to the purpofe : what was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath caufe to complain of? come to what was done to her. Clown. Sir, your Honour cannot come to that yet. Efcal. No, Sir, nor I mean it not. Clown. Sir, but you fhall come to it, by your Ho- nour's leave : and, I befeech you, look into mafter Froth here, Sir, a man of fourfcore pound a year j whofe fa- ther dy'd at Hallowmas. Was't not at Hallowmas, maf- ter Froth ? Froth. All-holland eve. Clown. Why, very well* I hope here be truths. He, Sir, fitting, as I fay, in a lower chair, Sir 5 'twas in the bunch of grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to fit, have you not? Froth. I have fo, becaufe it is an open room, and good for winter. Clown. Why, very well then* I hope, here be truths. Ang. This will laft out a night in Rujfia, When nights are longeft there. I'll take my leave, And leave you to the hearing of the Caufe 5 Hoping, you'll find good caufe to whip them all. Efcal. I think no IcCs. Good morrow to your Lord- fhip. \_Exit Angelo. Now, Sir, come on : what was done to Elbow's wife, once more? Clown* 530 Measure/^ Measure. Clown. Once, Sir ? there was nothing done to her once. Elb. I befeech you, Sir, ask him what this man did to my wife. Clown. I befeech your Honour, ask me. EfcaL Well, Sir, what did this gentleman to her ? Clown. 1 befeech you, Sir, look in this gentleman's face j good maffcer Frothy look upon his Honour ; 'tis for a good purpofe \ doth your Honour mark his face ? EfcaL Ay, Sir, very well. Clown. Nay, I befeech you, mark it well. EfcaL Well, I do fo. Clown. Doth your Honour fee any harm in his face ? EfcaL Why, no. Clown. Fli be fuppos'd upon a book, his face is the worft thing about him : good then j if his face be the worft thing about him, how could mailer Froth do .the conftable's wife any harm ? I would know that of your Honour. EfcaL He's in the right j conftablc, what fay you to it? Elb. Firft, an it like you, the houfe is a refpected honfe> next, this is a refpe&ed fellow 5 and his mif* trefs is a refpefted woman. Clown. By this hand, Sir, his wife is a more refpec^ ted perfon than any of us all. Elb. Varlet, thou lieftj thou lieft, wicked varlet; the time is yet to come, that fhe was ever refpe£ked with man, woman, or child. Clown. Sir, ihe was refpe&ed with him before he marry'd with her. EfcaL Which is the wifer \\w\Juflicer ox Iniquity?--', Is this true? Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet ! O thou wicked Hannibal! I refpe&ed with her, before I was marry'd to her? If ever I was refpe&ed with her, or me with me, let not your Worfliip think me the poor Duke's officer ; prove this, thou wicked Hannibal^ or I'll have mine aftion of battery on thee. EfcaL If he took you a box cfth* ear, you might have your a,cT:io,n of (lander too, £lb*. Me a s u r e for Measure, 331 Elb. Marry, I thank your good Worfhip for't: what is't your Worship's pleafure I fhall do with this wicked caitifF ? EfeaL Truly, officer, becaufe he hath fome offences in him, that thou wouldft difcover if thou couldft, let him continue in his courfes, 'till thou know'ft what they are. Elb. Marry, I thank your Worfhip for it* thoufeeft, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou varlet > thou art to con- tinue. Efcal. Where were you born, friend ? [To Froth. Froth. Here in Vienna^ Sir. Efcal. Are. you offourfcore pounds a year? Froth. Yes, and't pleafe you, Sir. Efcal. So. What trade are you of, Sir? [fto the Clown. Clown. A tapfter, a poor widow's tapfter. Efcal. Your miftrefs's name ? Clown. Miftrefs Over-don. Efcal. Hath fhe had any more than one husband? Clown. Nine, Sir: Over-don by the laft. Efcal. Nine? Come hither to me, mailer Froth : m af- ter Frothy I would not have you acquainted with tap- fters ; they will draw you, mailer Frothy and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more pf you. Froth. I thank your Worfhip ; for mine own part, I never come into any room in a taphoufe, but I am drawn in. Efcal. Well y no more of it, mailer Froth-, farewel. [Exit Froth. Come you hither to me, mafter tapfter $ what's your name, mafter tapfter ? Clown. Pompey. Efcal, Whatelfe? Clown. Bum^ Sir. Efcal. Troth, and your bum is the greateft thing a- bout you, fo that, in the beaftlieft fenfe^ you are Pom- fey the Qreat. Pompeyr you are partly a bawd, Pom- pey 5, 5ji Measure for Measure. pey\ howfoever' you colour it in being a tapfter* arc you not ? come, tell me true, it mail be the better for you. Clown, Truly, Sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. Efcal. How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd ? what do you think of the trade, Pompey ? is it a lawful trade ? Clown, If the law will allow it, Sir. Efcal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey ; nor it fhall not be allowed in Vienna, Clown, Does your Worfliip mean to geld and fplay all the youth in the city ? Efcal, No, Pompey, Clown. Truly, Sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If your Worfhip will take: order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds. Efcal, There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you : it is but heading and hanging. Clown. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten years together, you'll be glad to give out a Commiflion for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten years, (8) I'll rent the faired houfe in it, after three pence a Bay : if you live to fee this come to pafs, fay, Pompey told you lb. _ • EfeaL (8) 77/ rent the fair eft houfe in it, after three pence a Day.] This Reading firft got place in Mr. Pope's Impreffion, who, I prefume, did not know how to account for, Bay, the Reading of the old Copies; and which I have reftor'd to the Text. . For my part, I believe, our Poet had no Notion of reducing Houfe-rent to a Proportion by the Day. The Meaning is this. The Fafhion of Buildings, in our Author's time, was $o have two or three femi-circular jutting s out in Front, (which we ftill fee in the Remains of old Houfes,) where the Windows were plac'd; And thefe Projections were calfd Bays ; as the Windows were, from them^ caird Bay- nvindoivs, or Compafs-ivindoivs : the laft of which Terms we meet with in our Author's Troi/us and Creffida. She c*me to him t'other day into the Compafs- window. Minjhenv tells us, the Reafon of the Name being given was, becaufe this Form of Building refembled a Bay, or Road for Ships, which is always round, and bow-ing, to break off the Force of the Water. «■ So that, Houfes, as I laid, having not above two or three of thefe Juttings out, the Clown fays, " the Houfes won't be worth above three pence * I' Bajfn. v. Measure/^ Measure, 335 JEfcal. Thank you, good Pompey, and, in requital of your prophecy, hark you> I advife you, let me noc find you before me again upon any complaint what- foeverj no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompeyy I fhall beat you to your tent, and prove a fhrewd Cafar to you : in plain dealing, Pompey, I fhall have you whipt : fo for this time, Pompey, fare you well. ' Clown. I thank your Wormip for your good counfel; but I fhall follow it, as the flefh and fortune fhall bet- ter determine. Whip me? no, noj let carman whip his jadej The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade. [Exit. Efcal. Come hither to me, mailer Elbow ; come hi- ther, mailer conftable$ how long have you been in this place of conftable? klb. Seven year and a half, Sir. Efcal. I thought, by your readinefs in the office, you had continued in it fome time : you fay, feven years together ? Elb. And a half, Sir. Efcal. Alas ! it hath been great pains to you ; they do you wrong to put you fo oft upon't : are there not men in your ward fufficient to ferve it ? Elb. Faith, Sir, few of any wit in fuch matters ; as they are chofen, they are glad to chufe me for them. I do it for fome piece of money, and go through with all. Efcal. Look you, bring me in the names of fome fix or feven, the moft fufficient of your pariih. Elb. To your Worship's houfe, Sir? Efcal. To my houfe \ fare you well. What's a clock, think you? [Exit Elbow. Jufi. Eleven, Sir. Efcal. I pray you, home to dinner with me. " Bay ", i. e. Nine pence per Year at the largeft Computation. I had. almoit forgot to obferve, that Chaucer mentions a Bay-window in Jbis Court of Love. And there beftde, nvithin a bay-windowe, 8 tod one in gre?ie,full large of bred and length, &c. Jufi. 3 j4 Me a sure for Mfe A-stiHE* Juft. I humbly thank you. Efial. It grieves me for the death of Claudio: But there's no remedy. Juft. Lord Angelo is fevere. Efcal. It is but needful : Mercy is not it felf, that oft looks fo; Pardon is ftill the nurfe of fecond woe : But yet, poor Claudio ! there's no remedy. Come, Sir. \EmunU Enter Provoft, and a Servant. Serv. He's hearing of a Caufe > he will come ftraight : I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you, do * I'll knovf His pleafure * may be, he'll relent ; alas ! He hath but as offended in a dream : All fe£b, all ages fmack of this vice * and he To die for it ! Enter Angelo. Ang. Now, what's the matter* Provoft? Prov. Is it your Will, Claudio fhall die to morrow? Ang. Did not I tell thee, yea? hadft thou not order? Why doft thou ask again? Prov. Left I might be too rafh. Under your good correction, I have feeri, When, after execution, judgment hath Repented o'er his doom. Ang. Go to ; let that be mine, Do you your office, or give up your place, And you {hall well be fpar'd. Prov. I crave your pardon. What lhall be done, Sir* with the groaning Juliet t She's very near her hour. Ang. Difpofe of her To fome more fitting place, and that with fpeed. Serv. Here is the filter of the man condemn'd, Defires accefs to you. Ang, Hath he a fifter? Pron). Measure/^ Measure. 535 Prov. Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid, And to be fhortly of a fifter-hood, If not already. Ang. Well* let her be admitted. [Exit Servant. See you, the fdrnicatrefs be remov'd 5 Let her have needful, but not lavifh, means > There mall be order for it. Enter Lucio and Ifabella. Prov. 'Save your Honour. Ang, Stay yet a while. — Y'are welcome; what*$ yourWill ? Ifab. I am a woful fuitor to your Honour, Pleafe but your Honour hear me. Ang. Well; what's your fuit? Ifab. There is a vice that moft I do abhor, And moft defire mould meet the blow of juftrce j For which I would not plead, but that I muftj For which I muft not plead, but that I am At war, 'twixt will, and will not. Ang. Well j the matter? Ifab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die j I do befeech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother. Prov. Heav'n give thee moving graces ! Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? Why, every fault's condemn'd, ere it be done} Mine were the very cipher of a fun&ion, To find the faults, whofe fine (lands in record, And let go by the a£tor. Ifab. O juft, but fevere law ! I had a brother then } — heav'n keep your Honour X Lucio. Give not o'er fo : to him again,, intreat him, Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown j You are too cold } if you mould need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue defire if. To him, I fay. Ifab. Muft he needs die ? Ang. Maiden, no remedy, Ifab, 33$ Measure for Measure. Ifab. Yes j I do think, that you might pardon him 5 And neither heav'n, nor man, grieve at the mercy. Ang. I will not do't. Ifab. But can you if you would ? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Ifab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong, If fo your heart were touch'd with that remorfe, As mine is to him ? Ang. He's fentene'd 5 'tis too late. Luck. You are too cold* lfab. Too late? why, no 5 I, that do fpeak a word, May call it back again : Well believe this, (9) No ceremony that to Great ones 'longs, Not the King's crown, nor the deputed fword, The marfhal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half fo good a grace, As mercy does : if he had been as you, And you as he, you would have flipt like him 5 But he, like you, would not have been fo ftern. Ang. Pray you, be gone. Ifab. I wou'd to heav'n I had your Potency, And you were Ifabel, mould it then be thus? No \ I would tell what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prifoner. Lucio. Ay, touch him -, there's the vein. (9) Well, believe this,"] This manner of Pointing, which runs thro* all the Copies, gives an Air of Addrefs too familiar for an Inferior to life to a Perfon of Diftinction. But taking away the Comma after, Well, not only removes the Objection, but reftores a Mode of Pxpreffion, which our Author delights to ufe. Well believe this ; i. e. Beconvinc'd, be throughly affur'd of this. So, afterwards, in this Play, Angela fays ', / think it well. So, Gonzalo, in the Tempejl. I do well believe your Highnefs, ■ And fo, in King John ; And well Jhall you perceive So one of the Gentlemen in the opening Scene of Cymbelinei I do well believe. And fo Pifanio, in the fame Play; — You Jhall be mifsd at Court', And that will well confirm it. Ang. Measure for Measure* 337 Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law, And you but wafte your words. I fab. Alas! alas! Why, all the fouls that were, were forfeit once 3 And he, that might the 'vantage beft have took, Found out the remedy. How would you be, If he, which is the top of Judgment, fhould But judge you, as you are? oh, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made. Ang. Be you content, fair maid 5 It is the Law, not I, condemns your brother. Were he my kinfman, brother, or my fon, It fhould be thus with him \ he dies to morrow. Ifab. To morrow? oh! that's fudden. Spare him, fpare him. He's not prepar'd for death : Even for our kitchins We kill the fowl, of feafon ; Ihall we ferve heav'n With lefs refpecT:, than we do minifter To our grofs felvcs ? good, good my lord, bethink you : Who is it, that hath dy'd for this offence? There's many have committed it. Lucio. Ay, well faid. Ang. The Law hath not been dead, tho' it hath flept : Thofe many had not dar'd to do that evil, If the firfb man, that did th' Edict infringe, Had anfwer'd for his deed. Now, 'tis awake ; Takes note of what is done ; and, like a Prophet, Looks in a glafs that fhews what future evils, Or new, or by remifsnefs new conceiv'd, And fo in progrefs to be hatch'd and born, Are now to have no fucceffive degrees 5 But here they live, to end. Ifab. Yet fhew fome pity. Ang. I fhew it mod of all, when I fhew jufticej For then I pity thofe, I do not know 5 Which a difmifs'd offence would after gaulj And do him right, that, anfwering-one foul wrong. Lives not to a£t another. Be fatisfy'd ; Your brother dies to morrow 5 be content. Vol. I. Z Ifib. 338 Measure /^ Measure. If ah. So you mufVbe the firft, that gives this fen- tence 3 And he, that fuffers: oh, 'tis excellent To have a Giant's ftrength} but it is tyrannnous, To ufe it like a Giant. Lucio. That's well faid. Ifab. Could Great men thunder As Jove himfelf does, Jove would ne'er be quiet > For every pelting, petty, officer Would ufe his heav n for thunder ; Nothing but thunder: merciful heav'n! Thou rather with thy {harp, and fulph'rous, bok Split'ft the unwcdgeable and gnarled oak, Than the foft myrtle : O, but man ! proud man, Dreft in a little brief authority, Moll: ignorant of what he's moll: aflur'd, His glaiTy elTence, like an angry ape, Plays fuch fantaftick tricks before high heav'n, As makes the angels weep $ who, with our fpleens, (ia) Would all themfelves laugh mortal. Lucio. Oh, to him, to him, Wench 5 he will relent > He's coming: I perceive't. Prov. Pray heav'n, me win him! Ifab. We cannot weigh our brother with your felf: (11} Great men may jeft with Saints -9 'tis wit in them , But, in the lefs, foul prophanation. fio) As makes the Angels weep ; ivbo, with our fpleens, Wsuld all themj elves laugh mortal.] Men play fuch fantaftick Tricks, and appear fo ridiculous, as to make the Angels weep in Com- panion of our Extravagance; who, if they were endued with our Spleens and perifhable Organs, would laugh themfelves out of Immortality ; or, as we fay in common Life, laugh themfelves dead. This Notion of the Angels weeping for the Sins of Men is purely Rabbinical. Oh peccatum jlentes Angelos inducunt Hebrasorum Magijlri. < Grotius ad S. Lucam, c. 15. v. 7. (u) We cannot weigh our Brother with our felf. J Why not? Thor this fhould be the Reading of all the Copies, 'tis as plain as Light, it is not the Author's Meaning. Ifabella would fay, there is fo great a Dif- proportion in Quality betwixt Lord Angela and her Brother, that their Aclions can bear no Comparifon, or Equality, together : but her Bro- ther's Crimes would be aggravated, Angclo\ Frailties extenuated, from the Difference oi their Degrees and State of Life. Mr. Warburton. Lurit. Measure^ Measure, )$? Lucio. Thou'rt right, girl; more o' that. Ifab. That in the Captain's but a cholerick word, Which in the Soldier is flat Blafphemy. Lucio. Art avis'd o' that ? more on't. Ang. Why do you put thefe fayings upon me? Ifab. Becaufe authority, tho* it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in it felf, That skins the vice o' th' top : go to your bofom ; Knock there, and ask your heart, what it doth know That's like my brother's fault ; if it confefs A natural guiltinefs, fuch as is his, Let it not found a thought upon your tongue Againft my brother's life. Ang. She fpeaks, and 'tis fuch fenfc, That my fenfe breeds with it. Fare you well. Ifab. Gentle, my lord, turn back. Ang. I will bethink me : come again to morrow. Ifab. Hark, how I'll bribe you : good my lord, turn back. Ang. How ? bribe me ? Ifab. Ay, with fuch gifts, that heav'n ihall fharc with you. Lucio. You had marr'd all. elfe. Ifab. Not with fond ihekles of the tefted gold, Or ftones, whofe rate are either rich, or poor, As fancy values them ; but with true prayers, That mall be up at heav'n^ and enter there, Ere fun-rife : prayers from preferved fouls, From fading maids, whofe minds are dedicate To nothing temporal. Ang. Well; come to morrow. Lucio. Go to ; 'tis well; away. Ifab. Heav'n keep your Honour fafe ! Ang. Amen : For I am that way goifng to temptation, Where prayers crofs. Ifab. At what hour to morrow Shall I attend your lordihip ? Ang. At any time 'fore noon. Ifab. Save your Honour ! [Exe, Lucio #»•» — • / do Ano prodigal the Soul Lends the Tongue Vows. Thefe Blazes, oh, my daughter, &c. And fo the Countefs, in AlTs Well that ends Well. Nafral Rebellion, done ttW Blaze of Youth, When Oyl and Fire, too ft rang for Reafons force, Overbears it, and burns on, And fo Profpero, in The Tempeft ; '"* 'do not give Dalliance Too much the rein ; the ftrongejt Oaths are Straw To'tfr Fire i'th' blood: Li** Z 3 Juliet, $4* Measure for Measure. Juliet. I do confefs it, and repent it, father. Duke, 'Tis meet fo, daughter} but repent you not, As that the fin hath brought you to this fhame? Which forrow's always tow'rds our felves, not heaven j Showing we'd not feek heaven, as we love it, JBut as we ftand in fear. Juliet. I do repent me, as it is an evil j And take the fhame with joy. Duke. There reft, Your partner, as 1 hear, muft die to morrow, And I am going with inftru&ion to him $ So grace go with you ; benedicite. [Exit, Juliet, Muft die to morrow ! oh, injurious love, That refpites me a life, whofe very comfort Is ftill a dying horror! Prov. 'Tis pity of him. [Exeunt, SCENE changes to the Pa l a c e. Enter Angejo. ry*^.\17HEN I would pray and think, I think VV and pray To fev'ral fubje&s : heav'n hath my empty words, Whilft my invention, hearing not my tongue, Anchors on Ifabel: HeavVs in my mouth, As if I did but only chew its name j j^nd in my heart the ftrong and fwelling evil Of my conception ; the {late, whereon 1 ftudied, Is like a good thing, being often read, Grown fear'd and tedious $ yea, my gravity, Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride, Could I with boot change for an idle plume Which the air beats for vain, Oh Place! oh Form! How often doft thou with thy cafe, thy habit, Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wifer fouls To thy falfe fecming? blood, thou art but blood; Let's write good Angel on the Devil's horn> Tis not the devil's c\'d\. Enter Measure for Measure. 345 Enter Servant. How now, who's there? — Serv. One Ifabel^ a fifter, defires accefs to you. Ang. Teach her the way. Oh heav'ns! Why does my blood thus mufter to my heart, Making both That unable for it felf, And difpofleffing all my other parts Of neceflary flcnefs? So play the foolifh throngs with one that fwoons -9 Come all to help him, and fo Hop the air By which he fliould revive : and even fo The gen'ral Subjects to a well-wiiht King Quit their own part, and in obfequious fondnefs Crowd to his prefence, where their untaught love Muft needs appear offence. How now, fair maid? Enter Ifabella. Ifab. I am come to know your pleafure. Ang. That you might know it, would much better pleafe me, Than to demand, what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. Ifab. Ev'n fo?- — Heav'n keep your Honour! [Going* Ang. Yet may he live awhile •, and, it may be, As long as you or I j yet he muft die. Ifab. Under your Sentence ? Ang. Yea. Ifab. When, I befeech you? that in his reprieve, Longer or fhorter, he may be fo fitted, That his foul ficken not. Ang. Ha ? fie, thefe filthy vices ! 'twere as good To pardon him, that hath from nature ftol'n A man already made, as to remit Their fawcy fweetnefs, that do coin heav'n's image In Stamps that are forbid : 'tis all as eafie, Falfely to take away a life true made j As to put Metal in reftrained means, To make a falfe one. Ifab. 'Tis fet down fo in heav'n, but not in earth. Ang. And fay youfo? then I {hall po?x you quickly. Z 4 Whicb ■j 44 M E.A s u re y^r M E A s ur eJ Which had you rather, that the moft juft law Now took your brother's life -, or, to redeem him, Give up your body to fuch fweet uncleannefs, As fhe, that he hath ftain'd ? I fab. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my foul. Ang. I talk not of your foul j our compell'd fins 5tand more for number than accompt. Ifab. How fay you? Ang, Nay, I'll not warrant that 5 for I can fpeak Againft the thing I fay. Anfwer to this; I, now the voice of the recorded law, Pronounce a Sentence on your brother's life: Might there not be a charity in fin, To fave this brother's life ? Ifab, Pleafe you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my foul, It is no fin at all, but charity. Ang. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your foul, Were equal poize of (in and charity. Ifab. That I do beg his life, if it be fin, Heav'n, let me bear it ! you, granting my fuif, If that he fin, I'll make it my morn-pray'r To have it added to the faults of mine. And nothing of your anfwer. Ang. Nay, but hear me : Your fenfe purfues not mine: either, you're ignorant j Or feem fo, craftily > and that's not good. Ifab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, But gracioufly to know I am no better. Ang- Thus Wifdom wifhes to appear moft bright, When it doth tax it felf: as thefe black mafques Proclaim an en-fhield beauty ten times louder, Than beauty could difplay'd. But mark me, To be received plain, I'll fpeak more grofs. Your brother is to die. Ifab. So. Ang. And his offence is fo, as it appears Accountant to the law upon that pain, , Ifab, True, 4»&< Measure/^ Measure, 345 Jng. Admit no other way to fave his life, (As I fubfcribe not that, nor any other, But in the lofs of queftion,) that you his fifter, Finding your felf defir'd of fuch a perfon, Whofe credit with the judge, or own great Place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-holding law ; and that there were No earthly mean to fave him, but that either You muft lay down the treafures of your body To this fuppos'd, or elfe to let him fuffer $ What would you do? Ifab. As much for my poor brother, as my felf j That is, were I under the terms of death, Th'impreffion of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, And ftrip my felf to death, as to a bed That longing I've been lick for, ere I'd yield My body up to ihame. Ang. Then muft your brother die. Ifab. And 'twere the cheaper way $ Better it were, a brother dy'd at once; Than that a fifter, by redeeming him, Should die for ever. Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the Sentence, That you have flander'd fo ? Ifab. An ignominious ranfpm, and free pardon, Are of two houfesj lawful mercy, fure, Is nothing kin to foul redemption. Ang. You feem'd of late to make the law a tyrant, And rather prov'd the Aiding of your brother A merriment, than a vice. Ifab. Oh pardon me, my lord 5 it oft falls out, To have what we would have, we fpeak not what wc mean: I fomething do excufe the thing I hate, For his advantage that I dearly love. Ang. We are all frail. Ifab. Elfe let my brother die, (12) If (13) Elfe let my Brother dye, If not a Feodary, but only He, &c] This is fo obfcure a Paflago, ^ but fo fine in its Application, that it deferves to be explain'd. A Feo- dary 3 4<£ Measure/^ Measure. If not a feodary, but only he, Owe, and fuccced by weaknefs! Ang. Nay, women are frail too. lfab. Ay, as the glafles where they view themfelves j Which are as eafy broke, as they make forms, Women! help heav'n* men their creation mar, In profiting by them : nay, call us ten times frail j For we are fort as our complexions are, And credulous to falfe prints. Ang. I think it well; And from this teftimony of your own fex, (Since, I fuppofe, we're made to be no ftronger, Than faults may fhake our frames) let me be bold : I do arrefl: your words : be That you are, That is, a woman j if you're more, you're none. If you be one, as you are well exprefs'd By all external warrants, fhew it now, By putting on the deftin'd livery. Ifab. I have no tongue but one 5 gentle my lord, Let me intreat you, fpeak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Ifab. My brother did love Juliet; And you tell me, that he mail die for it. Ang. He ihall not, Ifabel, if you give me love. Ifab. I know, your virtue hath a licence in't, Which fcems a little fouler than it is, To pluck on others. Ang. Believe me, on mine Honour, My words exprefs my purpofe. lfab. Ha ! little Honour to be much believ'd, dary was One, that, in the Times of Vaflalage, held Lands of the chief Lord, under the Tenure of paying Rent and Service : which Tenures were calPd Feuda amongft the Goths. This being premifed, let us come to a Paraphrafe of our Author's Words. '* We are all frail, fays An- se gelo; yes, replies Ifabel/a; if all Mankind were not Feodaries, who For what thou haft not, ftill thou ftriv'ft to get} And what thou haft, forgett'ft. Thou art not certain 5 For thy complexion fhifts to ftrange effects, After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor \ , For, like an afs, whofe back with ingots bows, Thou bear'ft thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloadeth thee. Friend thou haft none j For thy own bowels, which do call thee Sire, The meer effufion of thy proper loins, Do curfe the Gout) Serpigo, and the Rheum, For ending thee no fooner. Thou haft nor youth, nor ages (if) But as it were an after-dinner's fleep, Dreaming on both* for'all thy blefled youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palfied Eld 5 and when thou'rt old and rich, (15) qhcu haft nor Youth, nor Age; &c] Mr. Warhurton has given me a Correction of, and Paraphrase on, this and the fubfe- quent Lines ; which mews fo fine a Spirit, that, tho' I have not ventur'd to difturb the Text, I mull not deprive my Readers of it. " The T Drift of this Period, you fee, is to prove, that neither Youth, nor Age, I is really enjoy'd : which, in poetical Language is, We ha And, feeking death, find life : let it Come on< Enter Ifabella. If ah. What, ho ? peace here : grace and good com* pany ! Prov. Who's there ? come in : the wifh deferves a welcome. Duke. Dear Sir, ere long I'll vifit you again. Claud. Moft holy Sir, 1 thank you. I fab. My Bufinefs is a word, or two, with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. Look, Signior, here's your lifter. Duke. Provofl) a word with you. Prov. As many as you pleafe. Duke. Bring them to lpeak where I may be con* ceal'd, Yet hear them. [_Exeunt Duke andVxovofii* Claud. Now, fijfter, what's the comfort? I fab. Why, as all comforts are 5 moft good in Deed; Lord Angelo, having affairs to heav'n, Intends you for his fwift ambaflador j Where you fhall be an everlafting leiger. Therefore your beft appointment make with fpeed, To morrow you fet on. Claud. Is there no remedy ? Jfab. None, but fuch remedy, as to fave a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Claud. But is there any? Jfab. Yes, brother, you may live: There is a devil ilh mercy in the judge, If you'll implore it, that will free your life, But fetter you 'till death. Claud. Perpetual durance? Ifab. Measure/^ Measure, jji I fab. Ay, juft> perpetual durance > a reftraint, Tho' all the world's vaftidity you had, To a determin'd fcope. Claud. But in what nature? Ifab. In fuch a one, as you, confenting to't, Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear^ And leave you naked. Claud. Let me know the point. Ifab. Oh, I do fear thee, Claudio\ and I quake, Left thou a fev'rous life fliould'ft entertain, And fix or feven Winters more refpefb Than a perpetual Honour. Dar'ft thou die? The fenfe of death is moft in apprehenfion * And the poor Beetle, that we tread upon, In corp'ral fufferance finds a pang as great, As when a Giant dies. Claud. Why give you me this iliame ? Think you, I can a refolution fetch From flow'ry tendernefs ? if I muft die, I will encounter darknefs as a bride, And hug it in mine arms. Ifab. There fpake my brother 5 there my father's grave Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou muft die 3 Thou art too noble to conferve a life In bafe appliances. This outward-fainted Deputy, Whofe fettled vifage and delib'rate word Nips youth i'th' head 5 and follies doth emmew, As faulcon doth the fowl $ is yet a devil : His filth within being caft, he would appear A pond as deep as hell. Claud. The Princely Angelo? Ifab. Oh, 'tis the cunning livery of hell, The damned'ft body to invert and cover In Princely guards. Doft thou think, Claudh, If I would yield him my virginity, Thou might'ft be freed ? Claud. Oh, heavens ! it cannot be. Ifab. Yes, he would give't thee; from this rank offence So 352. Measure/^ Measure. So to offend him ftill. This night's the time That I mould do what I abhor to name, Or elfe thou dy'ft to morrow. Claud. Thou flialt not do't. Ifab. Oh, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance As frankly as a pin. Claud. Thanks, deareft Ifabel. Ifab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to morrow. Claud. Yes. Has he affe&ions in him, That thus can make him bite the law by th5 nofc, When he would force it? fure, it is no fin 5 Or of the deadly feven it is the leaft. Ifab. Which is theleaft? Claud. If it were damnable, he being fo wife, Why would he for the momentary trick Be pcrdurably fin'd? oh Ifabel f Ifab. What fays my brother? Claud. Death's a fearful thing. Ifab. And fhamed life a hateful. Claud. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where: To lye in cold obftruftion, and to rot j This fenfible warm motion to become A kneaded clod j and the delighted fpirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to refide In thrilling regions of thick-ribb'd ice, To be imprifon'd in the viewlefs winds, And blown with reftlefs violence round about •The pendant world j or to be worfe than worft Of thofe, that lawlefs and incertain thoughts Imagine howling ; — 'tis too horrible ! The wearieft and moft loathed worldly life, (16) That (16) The weariefl, and moft loathed worldly Life,'] This natural Fear of Claudio, from the Antipathy we have to Death, feems very little va- ried from that infamous Willi oi Macenas recorded in the 101 Ophite of Seneca. Debilem facito manu, Debt /em pede, coxa; Tuber adftrue gibberum, Lubr'uos citi ate dentes : Pita, Measure for Measure. 355 That age, ach, penury, imprifonment Can lay on nature, is a paradife To what we fear of death. Ifab. Alas ! alas ! Claud. Sweet filler, let me live ; What fin you do to fave a brother's life, Nature difpenfes with the deed fo far, That it becomes a virtue. Ifab. Oh you beafl ! Oh faithlefs coward! oh diflioneft wretch! Wilt thou be made a man, out of my vice? Is't not a kind of inceft, to take life From thine own filler's fliame? what fhould I think? Heav'n grant, my mother plaid my father fair: For fuch a warped flip of wildernefs Ne'er iffu'd from his blood. Take my defiance, Die, perifh! might my only bending down Reprieve thee from thy fate, it fhould proceed. I'll pray a thoufand prayers for thy death j No word to fave thee. Claud. Nay, hear me, Ifabel. Ifab. Oh, fie, fie, fie! Thy fin's not accidental, but a trade > Mercy to thee would prove it felf a bawd > 'Tis beft, that thou dy'ft quickly. Claud. Oh hear me, Ifabella. 7*o tbem9 Enter Duke and Provoft. Duke, Vouchfafe a word, young filler j but one word. Ifab. What is your will? Duke. Might you difpenfe with your leifure, I would by and by have fome fpeech with you : the fatisfa£ti- on I would require, is likewife your own benefit. Ifab. I have no fuperfluous leifure j my Hay mull be Vita> dum fupereft, bene ejl. Uanc wtihi, oor maid from the world! what corruption in this ife, that it will let this man live ! but how out of this can fhe avail? Duke. It is a rupture that you may eafily heal j and the cure of it not only faves your brother, but keeps you from difhonour in doing it, A a & Ifab'< 35$ Measure for Measure. I fab. Shew me how, good father. Duke. This forc-nam'd maid hath yet in her the con- tinuance of her firft affection j his unjuft unkindnefs, (that in all reafon fliould have quenched her love,) hath, like an impediment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angela ^ anfwer his re- quiring with a plaufible obedience $ agree with his demands to the point* only refer yourfelf to this ad- vantage: firft, that your itay with him may not be long j that the time may have all fhadow and filence in it j and the place anfwer to convenience. This be- ing granted, in courfe now follows all : we fhall ad- viie this wronged maid to ftead up your appointment, go in your place* if the ^encounter acknowledge it felf hereafter, it may compel him to her recompence* and here by this is your brother faved, your Honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the cor- rupt Deputy fcaled. The maid will I frame, and make fit for his attempt : if you think well to carry this as you may, the doublenefs of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it? I fab. The image of it gives me content already, and, I truft, it will grow to a moft profperous per- fection. Duke. It lyes much in your holding up 5 hafte you ipeedily to Angela 3 if for this night he intreat you to his bed, give him promife of fatisfa&ion. I will pre- fcntly to St. Lakers * there at the moated Grange refides this deje&ed Mariana > at that place call upon me, and difpatch with Angelo^ that it may be quickly. Ifab. I thank you for this comfort : fare you well, good father. [Exeunt feverally. SCENE changes to the Street. Re-enter Duke as a Friar $ Elbow, Clown, and Officers. Elb. VI AY, if there be no remedy for it, but that IN you will needs buy and fell men and women like beafts, we fhall have all the world drink brown and white baftard. Duke. Measure for Measure. 557 Duke. Oh, heav'ns ! what fluff is here ? Clown. 'Twas never merry world fince of two ufu- ries the merrieft was put down, and the worfer alJow'd by order of law. A furr'd gown to keep him warm, and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins too, to fignifie, that craft, being richer than innocency, ftands for the facing. Elb. Come your way, Sir: blefs you, good father Friar. Duke. And you, good brother* father ; what offence hath this man made you, Sir ? Elb. Marry, Sir, he hath offended the law ; and, Sir, we take him to be a Thief too, Sir j for we have found upon him, Sir, a ftrange pick-lock, which we have fent to the Deputy. Duke. Fie, Sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd ! The evil that thou caufeft to be done, That is thy means to live. Doft thou but think, What 'tis to cram a maw, or cloath a back From fuch a filthy vice : fay to thy felf, From their abominable and beaftly touches I drink, I eat, array my felf, and live. (17) Canft thou believe thy living is a life, So ftinkingly depending ! go mend, mend. Clown. Indeed, it doth ftink in fome fort, Sir j but yet, Sir, I would prove — : — (17) I drink, I eat away my felf, and live."] Thus hitherto in all the ImprefTions. This is one very excellent Inftance of the Sagacity of our Editors, and it were to be wifh'd heartily, they would have oblig'd us with their phyfical Solution, how a. Man can eat away himfelf and live. The ingenious Mr. Bijbop, when we read this Play together, gave me that mod certain Emendation, which I have fubftituted in the Room of the former foolifh Reading ; by the Help whereof, we have this eafy Senfe j that the Clown fed himfelf, and put Cloaths on his Back by exercifing the vile Trade of a Bawd. In Othello, lago fpeaks much to the fame Purpofe of CaJ/to's Strum- pet. A Houfeivife, that, by felling her Bejires, Buyes herfelfRread, and Cloath. And B. Jonfon, much nearer to the Words of the Panage here cor- rected, in his Epigram upon Lieut. Shift. By that one Spell he lives, eats, drinks, arrays Himfelf. A a 5 Duke. 15 8 Measurs for Measure, Duke. Nay, if the devil have giv'n thee proofs for fin, Thpij wilt prove his. Take him to prifon, officer* Correction and inftru&ion muft both work, J£re this rude beaft will profit. Elb. He muft before the Deputy, Sir 5 he has given him warning * the Deputy cannot abide a whore-maf- terj if he be a whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile oa his errand. ^ Duke. That we were all, as fome would feem to be. Free from all faults, as faults from feeming free! Enter Lucio. Elb. His neck will pome to your wafte, a cord, Sir. 'Clown. J fpy comfort: I cry, bail: here's a gentle- man, and a friend of mine. Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? what, at the wheels of Cafar ? art thou led in triumph ? what, is there none of Pigmalion's images newly made woman to he had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and ex- trading it clutch'd ? what reply ? ha ? what fay'ft thou to this tune, matter and method? is't not drown'd i'th' laft rain ? ha ? what fay'ft thou, trot ? is the world $s it was, maji? which is the way? is it fad and few words ? or how ? the trick of it ? Duke. Still thus and thus* ftill worfe ? Lucio. How doth my dear morfel, thy miftrefs ? pro* cures fhe ftill ? ha ? Clown. Troth, Sir, fhe hath eaten up all her beef, and fhe is her felf in the tub. Lucio. Why, 'tis good j it is the right of it ; it muft be fo. Ever your frefh whore, and your powder'd ^awd j an unfhimn'd confequence, it muft be fo. Ar$ going to prifon, Pompey? Clown. Yes, faith. Sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amifs, Pompey : farewel : go, fay, I fent thee thither. For debt, Pompey ? or how ? Elk. For being a bawd, for being a bawd, Lucio. Well, then imprifon him -, if imprifonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his Right. Bawd is he, dpubtlefs, and of antiquity too 3, bawd born. Fare- wel, Measure^ Measure. 35* wel, good Pompey : commend me to the prifon, Pom- pey 3 you will turn good husband now, Pomgey j you will keep the houie. K Clown. I hope, Sir, your good Worihiprwill be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey j it is not the wear j I will pray, Pompey , to encreafe your bondage; if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more : adieu, trufty Pompey. Blefs you, Friar* Duke. And you. Lucio. Does Bridget paint ftill, Pompey? ha? Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come. Clown. You will not bail me then, Sir? Lucio. Then, Pompey , nor now. What news abroad, Friar ? what news ? Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come. Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey^ go ; [Exeunt Elbow, Clown and Officers. What news, Friar ^ of the Duke ? Duke. I know none : can you tell me of any ? Lucio. Some fay, he is with the Emperor of Rujjia ; other Some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you? Duke. I know not where 5 but wherefoever, I wifh, him well. * Lucio. It was a mad fantaitical trick of him to Ileal from the State, and ufurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his abfence5 he puts Tranfgreflion to't. Duke, He does well in't. Lucio. A little more lenity to leachery would do no harm in him *, fomething too crabbed that way, Friar. Duke. It is too general a vice, and feverity muft cure it. Lucio. Yes, in good footh, the vice is of a great kindred -y it is well ally'd, but it is impoffible to ex- cirp it quite, Friar^ 'till eating and drinking be put down.. They fay, this Angelo was not made by man and woman after the downright way of creation 5 is it true, think you ? A a 4 Duke. 360 Measure/^ Measure. Duke. How fliould he be made then ? ^ Lucio. Some report, a fea-maid fpawn'd him. Some^ that he was begot between two flock -fifties. But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is con- geal'd ice; that I know to be true : (18) and heis a motion ungenerative, that's infallible. Duke. You are pleafant, Sir, and fpeak apace. Lucio, Why, what a ruthlefs thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece to take away the life of a man? would the Duke, that is abfent, have done this ? ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred baftards, he would have paid for the nurfing a thoufand. He had fome feeling of the fport, he knew the fervice, and that inftru&ed him to mercy. Duke. I never heard the abfent Duke much detected for women -> he was not inclin'd that way. Lucio. Oh, Sir, you are deceiv'd. Duke. 'Tis not poffible. Lucio. Who, not the Duke? yes, your beggar of fifty 5 and his ufe was, to put a ducket in her clack- dim -, the Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too, that let me inform you. Duke. You do him wrong, furely. Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his : a fhy fellow was the Duke 5 and, I believe, I know the caufe of his withdrawing. Duke. What, pr'ythee, might be the caufe? Lucio. No : pardon : 'tis a fecret mufl: be lockt with- in the teeth and the lips 5 but this I can let you un- derftand, the greater file of the Subject held the Duke to be wife. Duke. Wife ? why, no queftion, but he was. Lucio. A very fuperficial, ignorant, unweighing fel- low. (18) and he is a Motion generative; that's infallible] This may be Senfe ; and Lucio, perhaps, may mean, that tho' Angelo have the Organs of Generation, yet that he makes no more Ufe of them than if he were an inanimate Puppet. But I rather think, our Author wrote ; ■ and he is a Motion ungenerative, — becaufe J^ucto again in this very Scene fays; — this ungenitur'd Agent 'will unpeople the Province *with Continency. Duke. Measure/^ Measure. 3^1 Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or miftaking: the very ftream of his life, and the bufinefs he hath helmed, muft upon a warranted Need give him a bet- ter proclamation. Let him be but teftimonied in his own bringings forth, and he fhall appear to the envi- ous, a fcholar, a ftatefman, and a foldier. Therefore, you fpeak unskilfully, or if your knowledge be more, it is much darken'd in your malice. Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and know- ledge with dear love. Lucio. Come, Sir, I know wh#t I know. Duke. I can hardly believe that, fince you know not what you fpeak. But if ever the Duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me defire you to make your anfwer before him : if it behoneftyou have fpoke, you have courage to maintain it 5 I am bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name ? Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucioy well known to the Duke. Duke. He fhall know you better, Sir, if I may live to report you. Lucio. I fear you not. Duke. O, you hope, the Duke will return no more *9 or you imagine me too unhurtful an oppofitej but, indeed, I can do you little harm : you'll forfwear this again ? Lucio. I'll be hang'd firft ; thou art deceiv'd in me, Friar. But no more of this. Canft thou tell, if Clau- dio die to morrow, or no? Duke. Why fhould he die, Sir? Lucio. Why ? for filling a bottle with a tun-difh : I would, the Duke, we talk of, were return'd again j this ungenitur'd agent will unpeople the province with Con- tinency. Sparrows muft not build in his houfe-eves, becaufe they are leacherous. The Duke yet would have dark deeds darkly 'anfweredj he would never bring them to light 5 would he were return'd ! Marry, this Qlmdio is condemned for untruffing. Farcwel, good Friary $6z Measure/^ Measure. Friar-, I pry'thee, pray for me: (ip) the Duke, I fay to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's now paft it ; yet, and I fay to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, tho' me fmelt of brown bread and garlick : fay, that 1 faid fo, farewel. [£*//. Duke. No Might nor Greatnefs in mortality Can Cenfure fcape : back-wounding Calumny The whiteft Virtue ftrikes. What King fo ftrong Can tie the gall up in the fland'rous tongue ? But who comes here ? Enter Efcalus, Provoft, and Bawd. Efcal. Go, away with her to prifon. Bawd. Good my lord, be good to me j your Honour is accounted a merciful man: good my lord. Efcal. Double and treble admonition, and ftill forfeit in the fame kind? this would make mercy fwear, and play the tyrant. Prov. A bawd of eleven years continuance, may it pleafe your Honour. Bawd. My lord, this is one Lucio's information a- gainfl: me : miltrefs Kate : Keep- down was with child by him in the Duke's time 5 he promis'd her marriage; his child is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob : I have kept it my felf 3 and fee, how he goes a- bout to abufe me. Efcal. That fellow is a fellow of much licence 5 let him be call'd before us. Away with her to prifon : go to* no more words. \_Exeunt with the Bawd.] Pro- vofti my brother Angelo will not be alter'd* Claudio muft die to morrow : let him be furnith'd with Di- vines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pity, it mould not be fo with him. (19) The Duke y I fay to thee again, would eat Mutton on Fridays.] This is not meant to impeach the Duke of. being an ill Catholicity as tranfgreffing the Rules of Abftinence in Diet : But the Joke, alluded to, will be explain' d by looking back to the third Note on the Two Gentle- men of Verona. Pro. Measure/^ Measure. ^c\ Pro. So pleafc you, this Friar hath been with him, and advis'd him for the entertainment of death. Efcal. Good even, good father. Duke. Blifs and goodnefs on you! Efcal. Of whence are you? Duke. Not of this country, tho' my chance is now To tffe it for my time : I am a brother Of gracious Order, late come from the See, In fpecial bufinefs from his Holinefs. Efcal. What news abroad i'th' world ? Duke. None, but that there is fo great a fever on g&oxinefs, that the diflblution of it muft cure it. No* velty is only in requeitj and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind of courfe, as it is virtuous to be con- ftant in any undertaking. There is fcarce truth e- nough alive, to make focietics fecure $ but fecurity e~ nough, to make fellow/hips accurft. Much upon this riddle runs the wifdom of the worlds this news is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I pray you, Sir, of what difpofkion was the Duke? Efcal. One, that, above all other ftrifes, Contended fpecially to know himfelf. Duke. What pleafure was he giv'n to? Efcal. Rather rejoicing to fee another merry, than merry at any thing which profeft to make him rejoice. A gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove profperous \ and let me defire to know, how you find Claudio pre- paid ? I am made to underftand, that you have lent him vifitation. Duke, He profefTes to have received no finifter mea- fure from his judge, but moft willingly humbles him- felf to the determination of juftice* yet had he fram'd to himfelf, by the inftruction of his frailty, many deceiving promifes of life \ which I by my good Jeifure have difcredited to him, and now is he refolv'd to die. Efcal. You have paid the heav'ns your Function, and the prifoner the very debt of your Calling. I have la- boqr'd for the poor gentleman, to the extremeft fhore of 5^4 M e a sure for Me a sure. of my modefty j but my brother Juftice have I found fo fevere, that he hath fore'd me to tell him, he is indeed Juftice. Duke. If his own life anfwer the ftraitnefs of his pro- ceeding, it fhall become him well $ wherein if he chance to fail, he hath fentene'd himfelf. EfcaL I am going to vifit the prifoner 5 fare you well. [fixit. Duke. Peace be with you ! He who the fword of heav'n will bear, Should be as holy as fevere : Pattern in himfelf to know, Grace to ftand, and virtue go 5 More nor lefs to others paying, Than by felf-offences weighing. Shame to him, whofe cruel ftriking Kills for faults of his own liking. Twice treble Shame on Angela^ To weed my vice, and let his grow ! Oh, what may man within him hide, Tho' angel on the outward fide ? How may that likenefs, made in crimes, (10) Making practice on the times, Draw with idle fpiders firings Moft pond'rous and fubftantial things ! Craft againft vice I muft apply. With Angelo to night fhall lye (20) How may Likenefs made in Crimes, Making PraSlife on the Times, To draw with idle Spider s Strings Mojf ponderous and fubftantial Things ? ] This obfeure and un grammatical Paflage Mr. Warburton has reltor'd to its Purity, only by adding one Monofyllable, and throwing out another : as he has likevvife made it intelligible by the following Comment. " How much Wicked- " nefs may a Man hide within, tho' he appears like an Angel with- " out ! How may that Likenefs, made in Crimes, i. e. by Hypocrify ; " [a pretty paradoxical Expreffion, of an Angel made in Crimes] by im- " pofing on the World, [thus emphatically exprefs'd, making Praclife " on the Times] draw with its falfe and empty Pretences [which Shake- " fpeare finely calls, Spiders Strings ; ] the molt ponderous and iub- " itantial Things of the World, as Riches, Honour, Power, Reputa- " tion, &c. His Measure/^ Measure.^ 565 His old betrothed, but defpis'd; So difguife fhall by th' dHguis'd Pay with falfhood falfe exacting 5 And perform an old Contracting. [Exit. ACT IV. S C E N E, a Grange* Enter Mariana, and boy finging. SONG. TAKE, oh, take thofe lips away, (11) 'That fo pweetly 'were for/worn j And thofe eyes, the break of day9 Lights that do mif-lead the morni But my kijes bring again, Seals of love, but feaVd in vain. Enter Duke. Mari. Break offthyfong, and hafte thee quick away ; Here comes a man of comfort, whofe advice Hath often ftiird my brawling difcontent. (21) Take, oh, take thofe Lips away,] This Song, which, no doubt, was a great Favourite in its Time, is inierted in Beaumont and Fletcher* Bloody Brother with this additional Stanza. Hide, oh, hide thofe Hills of Snow, Which thy frozen Bofom hears', On for I have made him know, I have a iervanc comes with me along, Tha< Measure /or Measure. 3*7 That flays upon mej whofe perfuafion is, I come about my brother. Duke. 'Tis well born up. I have not yet made known to Mariana A word of this. What, hoa! within! come forth ! Enter Mariana. I pray you, be acquainted with this maid j She comes to do you good. Ifab. I do defire the like. Duke. Do you perfuade your felf that I refpe£t you ? Mari. Good Friar, I know you do> and I have found it. Duke. Take then this your Companion by the hand, Who hath a ilory ready for your ear : I mail attend your leifurej but make hafte* The vaporous night approaches. Mari. Wilt pleafe you walk afide ? {Exeunt Mar. and. Ifab. Duke. Oh Place and Greatnefs ! millions of falfe eyes Are ftuck upon thee : volumes of report Run with thefe falfe and moft contrarious quefts Upon thy doings : thoufand 'fcapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreams, And rack thee in their fancies ! Welcome} how agreed? Re-enter Mariana, and Ifabel. Ifab. She'll take the enterprize upon her, father, If you advife it. Duke. 'Tis not my confent, But my intreaty too. 4 Ifab* Little have you to fay, When you depart from him, but foft and low, 44 Remember now my brother. ' Mari. Fear me not. Duke. Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all : He is your husband on a pre-contract* To bring you thus together, 'tis no fin $ Sith that the juftice of your title to him Dotk 3 (J 8 Measure/^ Measure. Doth flourifh the deceit. Come, let us go $ Our Corn's to reap j for yet our Tilth's to fow. (zi) [Exe. SCENE changes to the Trifon. Enter Provofi: and Clown. Prov. pOME hither, firrah: can you cut off a V_> man's head ? Clown. If the man be a batchelor, Sir,' I can: but if he be a marry'd man, he is his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head. Prov. Come, Sir, leave me your fnatches, and yield me a direct anfwer. To morrow morning are to die Claudio and Barnardine : here is in our prifon a common executioner, who in his office lacks a helper , if you will take it on you to afllft him, it fhall redeem you from your gyves : if not, you fhall have your full time of imprifonment, and your deliverance with an unpitied whipping j for you have been a notorious bawd. Clown. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd, time out of mind, but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman : I would be glad to receive fome inftruction from my fellow-partner. Prov. What hoa, Abhor [on! where's Abhor/on, there ? Enter Abhor fon. Abhor. Do you call, Sir ? Prov. Sirrah, here's a fellow will help you to mor- row in your execution ; if you think it meet, com- pound with him by the year, and let him abide here with you y if not, ufe him for the prefent, and dif- mifs him. He cannot plead his eftimation with you, he hath been a bawd. (22) 'for yet our tythe'j to few] It mull be Tilth ; that is, our Tillage is yet to be made ; our Grain is yet to be put in the Grounds the Project, from which we expect to profit in the Iflue, is ftill to be put in Hand. Abhor. Measure for Measure. 3<>p 'Abhor. A bawd, Sir ? fie upon him, he will difcre- dit our myftery. Prov. Go to, Sir, you weigh equally j a feather wilt turn the fcale. [£#/>. Clown. Pray, Sir, by your good favour 5 (for, fure- ly, Sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look}) do you call, Sir, your occupation a myftery ? Abhor. Ay, Sir j a myftery. Clown. Painting, Sir, I have heard fay, is a myftery; and your whores, Sir, being members of my occupa- tion, ufing Painting, do prove my occupation a myf- tery : but what myftery there ihould be in hanging, if I fhould be hang'd, I cannot imagine. Abhor. Sir, it is a myftery. Clown. Proof, - Abhor. (2,3) Every true man's apparel fits your thief, Clown: If it be too little for your true man, your Thief thinks it big enough. If it be too big for your true man, your thief thinks it lictle enough j fo every true man's apparel fits your thief. Re-enter Provoft. Prov. Are you agreed ? Clown. Sir, I will ferve him : for I do find, your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd j he doth oftner ask forgivenefs. Prov. You, firrah, provide your block and your ax to morrow, four o' clock. (23) Abhor. Every true Maris Apparel fits your thief. Clown. If it be too little for your 'Thief your true Man thinks it big enough. If it be too big for your thief your Thief thinks it lit" tie enough : fo every true Mans Apparel fits your Thief] This is a very notable Paffage, as it ftands in all the Editions; but, I dare fay, is notably corrupted ; and both the Speeches, and the Words, muffled and mifplaced. What! does the Clown ask Proof, how the Hangman's Trade is a Myftery ; and, fo foon as ever Jbhtrfon advances his The/is to prove it, the Clown takes the Argument out of his Mouth, and per- verts the very Tenour of it ? I am iatisned, the Poet intended a regular Syllogifm ; and I fubmit it to judgment, whether my Regulation has not reftor'd that Wit, and Humour which was quite loft in the Deprava- tion. Vol. I. B b Abhor. 370 Measure for Measure. Abhor. Come on, bawd, I will inftrucl: thee in my trade 5 follow. Clown. I dodefire to learn, Sir; and I hope, if you have occafion to ufe me for your own turn, you (24) fhall find me yare : for, truly, Sir, for your kindnefs I owe you a good turn. [Exit. Prov. Call hither Bamardine, and Claudio : One has my pity 5 not a jot the other, Being a murth'rer, tho' he were my brother. Enter Claudio. Look, here's the Warrant, Claudio^ for thy death 5 'Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to morrow Thou muft be made immortal. Where's Barnardine ? Claud. As fad lock'd up in fleep, as guiltlefs labour When it lyes ftarkly in, the traveller's bones : He'll not awake. Prov. Who can do Good on him ?' Well, go, prepare your felf. [Ex. Claud.] But, hark, what noife f [Knock within. Heav'n give your fpirits comfort ! — by and by 5 — I hope, it is fome Pardon, or Reprieve, For the moil gentle Claudio. Welcome, father. Enter Duke. Duke. The befl: and wholefom'ft fpirits of the night Invellop you, good Provofi ! who call'cL here of late ? Prov. None, fincc the curphew rung. Duke. Not Ifabel ? Prov. No. Duke. They will then, ere't be long. Prov. What comfort is for Claudio? Duke. There is fome in hope. Prov. It is a bitter Deputy. (24.) You fhall find m yours;] This Reading, I believe was firft Mr. JWs ; and coniequentiy adopted by the lait Editor. The old Books have it, You Jhall frd me y'are. - Very little Sagacity might have in- ftr fteH them, that the Corruption is only in the ApoJIropbei and that the Po.-;\s Word wujare ; i. e. dextrous in the Office; a Word very frequent in .our Author's Writings. , Measure^/- Measure. 371 Duke, Not fo, not fo> his life is parallel'd Ev'n with the ftroak and line of his great jufticej He doth with holy abftinence fubdue That in himfelf, which he fpurs on his Pow'r To qualifie in others. Were he meal'd With That, which he correfts, then were he tyrannous $ But this being fo, he's juft. Now are they come. {Knock, again, Provoft goes out. This is a gentle Provoft ; feldom when The fteeled goaler is the friend of men. How now? what noife? that fpirit's pofTeft with hafte, That wounds th' unrefifting poftern with thefe ftrokes. [Provoft returns, Prov. There he muft ftay, until the officer Arife to let him in -y he is call'd up. Duke. Have you no Countermand for Claudio yet, But he muft die to morrow? Prov. None, Sir, none. Duke. As near the dawning, Provoft) as it is, You fhall hear more ere morning. Prov. Happily, You fomething know \ yet, I believe, there comes No Countermand •, no fuch example have we : Befides, upon the very Siege of juftice, Lord Angelo hath to the publick ear Profeft the contrary. Enter a MeJJenger* Duke. This is his lordfhip's man. Prov. And here comes Claudio's Pardon. Mejf. My lord hath fent you this note, and by me this further charge, that you fwerve not from the fmalleft article of it, neither in time, matter, or other circumftance. Good morrow -, for as I take it, it is almoft day. Prov. I mail obey him. {Exit MefTen. Duke. This is his Pardon, purchas'd by fuch fin, For which the Pardoner himfelf is in : Hence hath offence his quick celerity, When it is born in high authority ; When vice makes mercy, mercy's fo extended, Bbz' That, 57* Measure for Measure. That, for the fault's love, is th' offender friended. NoWj Sir, what news ? Prov. I told you: lord Angelo, be-like, thinking me remifs in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted putting on j methinks, ftrangelyj for he hath not us'd it before. Duke. Pray you, let's hear. Prov oft reads the letter. UHoatfoever you may hear to the contrary , let Claudio k executed by four of the . clocks and in the afternoon Bar- nard ine : for my better fat isfaclion, let me have Claudio'; head fent me by five. Let this be duly performed, with a thought that more depends on it than we muft yet ddi- fhave the head, and tie the beard, and fay it was the defire of the penitent to be fo barb'd before his death 5 you know the courfe is common. If any thing fall to you upon this, more than thanks and good fortune 5 by the Saint whom I profefs, I will plead againft it with my life. Prov, Pardon me, good father; it is againft my oath. Duke. Were you fworn to the Duke, or to the De- puty? Prov. To him, and to his Subftitutes. Duke. You will think you have made no offence, if the Duke avouch the juflice of your dealing? B b 3 Prov. 374 Measure for Measure. Prov. But what likelihood is in that ? Duke. Not a refemblance, but a certainty. Yet fince I fee you fearful, that neither my Coat, integrity, nor my perfuafion, can with eafe attempt you, I will go further than I meant, to pluck all fears out of you. Look you, Sir, here is the hand and feal of the Duke y you know the Chara&er, I doubt not ; and the Signet is not ftrange to you. .Prov. I know them both. Duke. The contents of this is the Return of the Duke 3 you fhall anon over- read it at your pleafurej where you fhall find, within thefe two days he will be here. This is a thing, which Jngelo knows not; for he this very day receives letters of ftrange tenor-, perchance, of the Duke's death j perchance, of his entering into fome monaftery$ but, by chance, nothing of what is writ. Look, the unfolding ftar calls up the fhepherd \ put not your felf into amazement how thefe things fhould be 5 all difficulties are but eafie, when they are known. Call your executioner, and off with Bamar-> dim's head : I will give him a prefent fhrift, and ad- vife him for a better place. Yet you are amaz'd, but this fhall abiblutely reiolve you. Come away, it is al- moft clear dawn. [_Exe9- Enter Clown. Clown. I am as well acquainted here, as I was in our houfe of profeffion ; one would think, it were miftrefs Over-don's own houfe 5 for here be many of her old cuftomers. Firft, here's young Mr. Rajh\ he's in for a commodity of brown pepper and old ginger, nine- fcore and feventeen pounds ; of which he made five marks ready money: marry, then, ginger was not much in requeft : for the old women were all dead. Then is there here one Mr. Caper, at the fuit of mafter Three- Pile the mercer j for fome four fuits of peach-colour'd fattin, which now peaches him a beggar. Then have we here young Dizzy, and young Mr. Deep-vow, and Mr. Copper- [pur ^ and mafter Starve-Lacky the rapier and dagger-man, and young Dr op- heire that kftPd lutty/W- dim Measure for Measure. 375 ding) and Mr. Forthlight the tilter, and brave Mr. Shooty the great traveller, and wild Half-Canne that ftabb'd Pots, and, I think, forty more; all great doers in our trade, and are now in for the Lord's fake. Enter Abhorfon. Abhor. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. Clown. Mafter Barnardine, you muft rife and be hang'd, matter Barnardine. Abhor. What, hoa, Barnardine! Barnar. \JVithin^\ A pox o' your throats; who makes that noife there ? what are you ? Clown. Your friend, Sir, the hangman : you muft be fo good, Sir, to rife, and be put to death. Barnar. [Within^] Away, you rogue, away ; I am fleepy„ Abhor. Tell him, he muft awake, and that quickly too. Clown. Pray, mafter Barnardine, awake 'till you are executed, and fleep afterwards. Abhor. Go in to him, and fetch him out. Clown. He is coming, Sir, he is coming \ I hear the ftraw ruftle. Enter Barnardine. Abhor. Is the ax upon the block, firrah? Clown. Very ready, Sir. Barnar* How now, Abhorfon ? what's the news with you? Abhor. Truly, Sir, I would defire you to clap into your prayers : for, look you, the Warrant's come. Barnar. You rogue, 1 have been drinking all night, I am not fitted for't. Clown. Oh, the better, Sir; for he that drinks all night, and is hang'd betimes in the morning, may fleep the founder all the next day. Enter Duke. Abhor. Look you, Sir, here comes your ghoftly fa- ther; do we jeft now, think you? B b 4 Duke. 3 ?d Measure/^ Measure.' Duke. Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how haftily you are to depart, I am come to advife you, comfort you, and pray with you. Barnar. Friar^ not I : I have been drinking hard all night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or they fhall beat out my brains with billets : I will not confent to die this day, that's certain. Duke. Oh, Sir, you muft ; and therefore, I befeech you, look forward on the journey you fhall go. Barnar. I fwear, I will not die to day for any man's perfuafion. Duke. But hear you,— — Barnar. Not a word: if you have any thing to fay to me, come to my Wardj for thence will not I to day. [Exit* Enter Provoft. Duke. Unfit to live, or die: oh gravel heart! After him, fellows: bring him to the block. Prov. Now, Sir, how do you find the prifoner? Duke. A creature unprepar'd, unmeet for deaths ' And, to tranfport him in the mind he is. Were damnable. Prov. Here in the prifon, father, There dy'd this morning of a cruel fever One Ragozine, a moft notorious pirate, A man of Claudio's years ; his beard, and head, Juft'of his colour: What if we omit This Reprobate, 'till he were well inclin'd. And fatisfie the Deputy with the vifage Of Ragozine^ more like to Claudio ? Duke. O, 'tis an accident, that heav'n provides : Difpatch it prefently ; the hour draws on Prefixt by Angela: fee, this be done, And fent according to Command -, while I Perfuade this rude wretch willingly to die. Prov. This fliall be done, good father, prefently: But Barnardlne muft die this afternoon: And how ihall we continue Claudio, To fave me from the danger that might come, If he were known alive? Duke. Measure for Measure. 577 Duke. Let this be done > Put them in fecret Holds, both Barnardine and Claudio : Ere twice the fun hath made his journal greeting To yonder generation, you fliall find Your fafety manifefted. Prov. I am your free dependant/ Duke. Quick, difpatch, and fend the head to An" gelo. [Exit Prov, Now will I write letters to dngelo, (The Provoft) he fliall bear them 5) whofe contents; Shall witnefs to him, I am near at home 5 And that, by great injunctions, I am bound To enter publickly : him I'll defire ^ To meet me at the confecrated Fount, A league below the city 5 and from thence, By cold gradation and weal-ballanc'd form, - — "We fliall proceed with Angelo. Enter Provolt. Prov. Here is the head, I'll carry it my felf. Duke. Convenient is it: make a fwift Return j For I would commune with you of fuch things, That want no ears but yours. Prov. I'll make all fpeed. {Exit. Ifab. \_Withinr\ Peace, hoa, be here! Duke. The tongue of Ifabel. — She comes to know, If yet her brother's Pardon be come hither: But I will keep her ign'rant of her good, To make her heav'nly comforts of defpair, When it is leaf! expected. Enter Ifabel. Ifab. Hoa, by your leave. Duke. Good morning to you, fair and gracious daughter. Ifab. The better, giv'n me by fo holy a man : Hath yet the Deputy fent my brother's Pardon ? Duke. He hath releas'd him, Ifabel) from the world 5 His head is off, and fent to Angelo. Ifab. Nay, but it is not fo. Duke. 378 Measure^ Measure. Duke. It is no other. Shew your wifdom, daughter, in your clofeft patience. Ifab. Oh, I will to him, and pluck out his eyes. Duke. You fhall not be admitted to his fight. I fab. Unhappy Claudio^ wretched Ifabel! Injurious world, mod damned Angelol Duke. This nor hurts him, nor profits you a jot : Forbear it therefore, give your Caufe to heav'n : Mark, what I fay 5 which you fhall furely find By ev'ry fy liable a faithful verity. The Duke comes home to morrow; dry your eyesj One of our Convent, and his Confeflbr, Gives me this inilance : already he hath carry'd Notice to Efcalus and Angelo^ Who do prepare to meet him at the gates, There to give up their Pow'r. If you can, pace your wifdom In that good path that I would wifh it go, And you fhall have your bofom on this wretch, Grace of the Duke, revenges to your heart, And gen'ral honour. Ifab. I'm directed by you. Duke. This letter then to Friar Peter give 5 5Tis That he fent m£ of the Duke's Return : Say, by this token, I defire his company At Mariana's houfe to night. Her Caufe and yours I'll perfect him withal, and he fhall bring you Before the Duke j and to the head of Angelo Accufe him home, and home. For my poor felf, I am combined by a facred vow, And fhall be abfent. Wend you with this letter; Command thefe fretting waters from your eyes With a light heart j truft not my holy Order, If I pervert your courfe. Who's here? Enter Lucio. Lucio. Good even-, Friar, where's the Provofi ? Duke. Not within. Sir. Lucie. MeasurI /^r Measure. 379 Lucio. Oh, pretty Ifabella, I am pale at mine heart to fee thine eyes fo red ; thou muft be patient 3 I am fain to dine and fup with water and bran* I dare not for my head fill my belly : one fruitful meal would fet me to't. But, they fay, the Duke will be here to morrow. By my troth, Ifabel, I lov'd thy brother: if the old fantaftical Duke of dark corners had been at home, he had lived. \_Ex. Ifabella. Duke. Sir, the Duke is marvellous little beholden to your reports > but the beft is, he lives not in them. Lucio. Friar^ thou knoweft not the Duke fo well as I doj he's a better woodman, than thou tak'ft him for. Duke. Well 5 you'll anfwer this one day. Fare ye well. Lucio. Nay, tarry, I'll go along with thee: I car* tell thee pretty tales of the Duke. Duke. You have told me too many of him already, Sir, if they be true* if not true, none were enough. Lucio. I was once before him for getting a wench with child. Duke. Did you fuch a thing? Lucio. Yes, marry, did I j but I was fain to forfwear it j they would elfe have marry'd me to the rotten medlar. Duke. Sir, your company is fairer than honeft: reft you well. Lucio. By my troth, I'll go with thee to the lane's end: if bawdy Talk offend you, we'll have very ilittle of it ; nay, Friar, I am a kind of bur, I fhall flick. [Exeunt, SCENE changes to the Palace. Enter Angelo and Efcalus. Efcal.T^ VERY letter, he hath writ, hath difvouch'd S2j other. Ang. In moft uneven and diffracted manner. His aftions ffiew much like to madnefs : pray heav'n, his wifdom be not tainted: and why meet him at the gates, and deliver our authorities there ? Efcal. 380 Measure for Measure. EfcaL I guefs not. Ang. And why fliould we proclaim it in an hour before his entring, that if any crave redrefs of injuftice, they lhould exhibit their petitions in the ftreet ? EfcaL He fliews his reafon for that 5 to have a dip- patch of complaints, and to diliver us from devices hereafter, which fhall then have no power to ftand a^ gainft us. Ang. Well ; I befeech you, let it be proclaimed be- times i'th5 morn ; I'll call you at your houfe : give notice to fuch men of Sort and Suit, as are to meet him. EfcaL I fhall, Sir : fare you well. [Exit. Ang. Good night. This Deed unfhapes me quite, makes me unpregnant, And dull to all proceedings. A defloured maid! And by an eminent body, that cnforc'd The Law againft it ! but that her tender fliamc Will not proclaim againft her maiden lofs, How might {he tongue me? yet reafon dares her : (if) For my authority bears a credent Bulk ; That no particular fcandal once can touch, But it confounds the breather. He fhould have liv'd, Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous fenfe, Might in the times to come have ta'en revenge ; By fo receiving a difhonour'd life, With ranfom of fuch fhame. Would yet, he had liv'd \ Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, TSf othing goes right j we would, and we would not* [Exit. (2r) ^ .yet reafon' dares her :] The old Folio ImprefTions read, jet Reafon dares her no : — perhaps, dares her Note : i. e. flifles her Voice ; frights her from fpeaking. In this Senfe, our Author ufes the Word dare, again, in his Henry VIII. Fareivel, Nobility! Let his Grace go forward^ And dare us with his Cap, like Larks. SCENE Measure/^ Measure; 381 x SCENE changes to the Fields without the Town. Enter Duke in his own habit \ and Friar Peter, Duke. Hp H E S E letters at fit time deliver me. X The Provoft knows our purpofe, and our plot: The matter being afoot, keep your inftru&ion, And hold you ever to our fpecial drift ; Tho' fometimes you do blench from this to that, As caufe doth mini iter : go, call at Flavins'" houfe, And tell him, where I flay $ give the like notice Unto Valentius, Rowland^ and to Craffus^ And bid them bring the trumpets to the gate ; But fend me Flavius firft. Peter. It ihall be fpeeded well. [Exit Friar. Enter Varrius. Duke. I thank thee, Varrius 5 thou haft made good hafte : Come, we will walk. There^s other of our friends Will greet us here anon, my gentle Varrius. {Exeunt. Enter Ifabella and Mariana. lfab. To fpeak fo indirectly, I am loth : I'd fay the truth 3 but to accufe him fo, That is your Part j yet I'm advis'd to do it, He fays, t'availful purpofe. (26) Mart. Be rul'd by him. Ifab. Befides, he tells me, that if peradventure He fpeak again ft me on the adverfe fide, I mould not think it ftrangej for 'tis a phyfick, That's bitter to fweet end. Mart. I would, Friar Peter » (26) He fays to vail full purpofe.] Thus the old Copies. I don't know, what Idea our Editors form'd to themfelves, of wailing full Pur-" pofe , but, I'm perfuaded, the Poet meant, as I have reltor'd ; mix. to a Purpofe that will ftand us in Head, that will profit us. Ifab. 5 8 z Measure for Measure, I fab. Oh, peace 5 the Friar is come. Enter Peter. Peter. Come, I have found you out a Stand moft fit, Where vou may have fuch vantage on the Duke, He fhall not pafs you. Twice have the trumpets founded : The generous and graveft citizens Have hent the gates, and very near upon (27) The Duke is entring : therefore hence, away. {Exeunt. A C T V. SCENE,^ publtck Place near the City. Enter Duke, Varrius, Lords, Angelo, Efcalus, Lucio, and Citizens at fever al doors. Duke. MY very worthy Coufin, fairly met* Our old and faithful friend, we're glad to fee you. Ang. and Efcal. Happy Return be to your royal Grace ! (27) Have hent the Gates, — ] An anonymous Correfpondent advis'd me to read ; Have hemm'd the Gates, • But, I apprehend, there is no Occafion for any Change. To hen/, Skinner and fome other Gloffaries tell us, fignifies, to feize, lay hold on with the hand ; but we find by Spenfer, in his Colin Clout, that it likewife fignifies, to furround, encircle; (in which Senfes it is ufed here.) From thence another World of Land we ketfd, Floating amid the Sea in Jeopardy ; And round about with mighty white Rods hend, Again/} the Seas encroaching Cruelty. We meet with the Word again, in its firit Acceptation, in our Author'* Winter's Tale. Jog on, jog on, the foot-path Way% And merrily hent the Stile-a : A merry Heart goes all the day, Tour fad tires in a mili-m Duke. Measure/^ Measure. 383 Duke. Many and hearty thanks be to you both : WeVe made enquiry of you, and we hear Such goounefs of your juftice, that our foul Cannot but yield you forth to publick thanks, Forerunning more requital. jing. You make my bonds ftill greater. Duke. Oh, your defert fpeaks loud 5 and I fhould wrong it, To lock it in the wards of covert bofom, When it deferves with characters of brafs A forted refidence, 'gainft the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. Give me your hand, And let the Subjects fee, to make them know That outward courtefies would fain proclaim Favours that keep within. Come, Efcalus* You mult walk by us on our other hand : And good Supporters are you. \jis the Duke is going ouf, Enter Peter and Ifabella. Peter. Now is your time: fpeak loud, and kneel before him. I fab. Juftice, O royal Duke 5 vail your regard Upon a wrong'd, I'd fain have faid, a maid : Oh, worthy Prince, difhonour not your eye By throwing it on any other objecT:, 'Till you have heard me in my true complaint, And given me juftice, juftice, juftice, juftice. Duke. Relate your wrongs 5 in what, by whom? be brief : Here is lord Angelo mall give you juftice^ Reveal your felf to him. lfab. Oh, worthy Duke, You bid me feek Redemption of the Devil: Hear me your felf 5 for that which I muft fpeak Muft either punifh me, not being believ'd, Or wring redrefs from you : oh, hear me, hear me. Ang. My lord, her Wits, I fear me, are not firm: She hath been a fuitor to me for her brother, Cut off by courfe of juftice. If ah. j&4 Measure for Measure. I fab. Caurfe of juftice ! Ang. And fhe will fpeak moft bitterly, and ftrange. (i&) Ifab. Moft ftrange, but yet moft truly, will I fpeak j That Angeloys forfworn : is it riot ftrange ? That Angelo's a murth'rer : is'c not ftrange ? That Angela is an adult'rous thie£ An hypocrite, a virgin-violater : Is it not ftrange and ftrange ? Duke. Nay, it is ten times ftrange. Ifab. It is not truer he is Angelo, Than this is all as true, as it is ftrange : Nay, it is ten times true 5 for truth is truth To ths end of reckoning. Duke. Away with her: poor foul, She fpeaks this in th' infirmity of fenfe. Ifab. O Prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ'ft There is another comfort than this world, That thou negleft me not* with that opinion That I am touch'd with madnefs. Make not impoffiblc That, which but feems unlike > 'tis not impoflible, But one, the wicked'ft caitiff on the ground, May kem as my, as grave, as juft, as abfolute, As Angelo > even fo may Angelo, In all his dreffings, carafts, titles, forms, Be an arch-villain : believe it, royal Prince, If he be lefs, he's nothing j but he's more, Had I more name for badnefs. Duke. By mine honefty, If ftie be mad, as I believe no other, Her madnefs hath the oddeft frame of fenfe $ Such a dependency of thing on thing, As e'er I heard in madnefs. Ifab. Gracious Duke, (28) And Jhe nvill fpeak moft Utterly.] Thus is the Verfc left im- perfect by Mr. Rowc and Mr. Pope; tho' the old Copies all fill it up, as I have done. I have rciror'd an infinite Number of fuch PafTagci tacitly from the firft Impreffions : but I thought proper to take notice, once for all, here, that as Mr. Pope follows Mr. Rowe's Edition in his Errors and Omiilions, it gives great Sufpicion, notvvithiianding the pretended Collation or Copies, that Mr. Pope, for the Generality, took Mr. Rewil Edition a* his Guide. Harp Measure /flr Measure." j8j tiarp not on That ; nor do not banifh reafon for inequality j but let your reafon ferve To make the truth appear, where it feems hidj Not hide the falfc, feems true. Duke. Many, that are not mad, Have, fure, more lack of reafon. What would you fay ? Ifab. I am the fitter of one Claudia^ Condemn'd upon the A£t of fornication To lofe his head > condemn'd by Angelo : I, in probation of a fifterhood, * Was fent to by my brother 5 one Lucio9 As then the meffenger, ■ Lucio. That's I, an't like your Grace: I came to her from Claudw> and defir'd her To try her gracious fortune with lord Angeio^ For her poor brother's Pardon; Ifab. That's he, indeed. Duke. You were not bid to fpeak. [fo LuciOi Lucio. No, my good lord, nor wHh'd to hold my peace. Duke. I wifh you now then j Pray you, take note of it : and when you have A bufinefs for your felf, pray heav'n, you then Be perfect Lucio. I warrant your Honour. Duke. The warrant's for your felf 5 take heed to't* Ifab. This gentleman told fomewhat of my tale. Lucio. Right. Duke. It may be right, but you are in the wrong To fpeak before your time. Proceed. Ifab. I went To this pernicious caitiff Deputy. Duke. That's fomewhat madly fpoken. Ifab. Pardon it: The phrafe is to the matter. Duke. Mended again: the matter; — proceed, Ifab. In brief ; (to fet the needlefs Procefs by, How I perfuaded, how I pray'd and kneel'd, How he repell'd me, and how I reply'd 5 Vol. L C c For }3 believe it. Peter. Well* he in time may come to clear himfelf$ But at this inftant he is fick, my lord, Of a ftrange fever. On his meer requeft, (Being come to knowledge that there was Complaint Intended 'gainft lord Angelo) came I hither To fpeak as from his mouth, what he doth know Is true, and falfej and what he with his oath By all Probation will make up full clear, Whenever he's conven'd. Firft, for this woman 3 To juftifie this worthy Nobleman, So vulgarly and perfonally accus'd, Her mail you hear difproved to her eyes, 'Till fhe her felf confefs it. Duke. Good Friar, let's hear it. Do you not fmile at this, lord Angelo? O heav'n ! the vanity of wretched fools ! -— » Give us fome feats j come, Coufin Angelo ^ (ip) G c 2 In 1 29) — ■ *•« — come, coujtn Angelo* In this Til he impartial *. be you judge 0/ 3 8 S Measure for Measure. In this I will be partial : be you Judge Of your own Caufe. Is this the witnefs, Friar? [Ifabella is carried off, guarded. Enter Mariana veiVd. Firft, let her fhevv her face 5 and after, fpeak. Mori. Pardon, my lord, I will not fhew my face, Until mv husband bid me. Duke. What, are you marry'd? Mart. No, my lord. Duke. Are you a maid? Mari. No, my lord. Duke. A widow then? Mari. Neither, my lord. Duke. Why, are you nothing then? neither maid, widow, nor wife? Lucie. My lord, me may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow: I would, he had fome caufe to prattle for himfelf. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confefs, I ne'er was marry'd $ And, I confefs befides, I am no maid -, I've known my husband 5 yet my husband knows not, That ever he knew me. Lucio. He was drunk then, my lord -, it can be no better. Duke, For the benefit of filence, would thou wert fo too. Lucio. Well, my lord. Duke. This is no witnefs for lord Angelo. Of your otvn Caufe.'] Surely, this Duke had odd Notions of Impartiality ; to profeis it, and then commit the Decifion of a Caufe to the Perfon accus'd of being the Criminal. He talks much more rationally on this Affair, when he fpeaks in the Character of the Friar. ■ The Duke's unjuit, Thus to reto-rt your manifejl Appeal ; And put your Trial in the Villains mouth, Which here you come f aecufe. I think, there needs no ftronger Authority ^p convince, that the Poet mull have wrote as I have corrected ; In this I will be partial; Mari. Measure^ Measure, 38? Mart. Now I come to't, my lord. Sh«, that accufes him of fornication, In felf-fame manner doth accufe my husband ; And charges him, my lord, with fuch a time, When I'll depofe I had him in mine arms, With allth'effecTroflove. Ang. Charges ihe more than me ? Marl. Not that I know. Duke. No? you fay, your husband. \fo Mariana, Mart. Why, juft, my lord* and that is Angelo-, Who thinks, he knows, that he ne'er knew my body j But knows, he thinks, that he knows IfabeVs. Ang. This is a flrange abufe 5 let's fee thy face. Man. My husband bids me 5 now I will unmask. [Unveiling* This is that face, thou cruel Angelo^ Which once thou fwor'ft, was worth the looking on; This is the hand, which, wich a vow'd contract, Was fa ft belock'd in thine: this is the body, That took away the match from Ifabeh, And did fupply thee at thy garden-haufe In her imagin'd perfon. Duke. Know you this woman? Lucio. Carnally, fhe fays. Duke. Sirrah, no more. Lucio. Enough, my lord, Ang. My lord, I muft confefs, I know this, woman 5 And five years fince there was fome fpeech of marriage Betwixt my felf and her j which was broke off. Partly, for that her promifed proportions Came fhort of compofition j but, in chief, For that her Reputation was dif-valu'd In levityj fince which time of five years I never fpake with her, faw her, nor heard from her, Upon my faith and honour. Mart. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heav'n, and word*, from breath, As there is fenfe in truth, and truth in virtue, J am affiune'd this man's wife, as ftrongly C c j A* $po Measure for Measure^ As words could make up vows : and, my good lord, But Tuefday night laft gone, in's garden- houfe, He knew me as a wife ; as this is true, Let me in fafety raife me from my knees j Or elfe for ever be confixed here, A* marble monument, Ang. 1 did but fmile 'till now. Now, good my lord, give me the fcope of juftice 5 My patience here is touch'dj I do perceive, Thefe poor informal women are no more But inftruments of fome more mightier member, That fets them on. Let me have way, my lord, To find this practice out. Duke. Ay, with my heart > And punifh them unto your height of pleafure. Thou foolifh. Friar ) and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone 5 think'ft thou, thy oaths, Tho' they would fvvear down each particular Saint, Were teilimonies 'gainfl: his worth and credit, That's feal'd in approbation? You, lord Efcalus* Sit with my Coufin y lend him your kind pains To find out this abufe, whence 'tis deriv'd. There is another Friar* that fet them on 5 Let him be fent for. Peter. Would he were here, my lord ; for he, indeed, Hath fet the women on to this complaint : Your Provoft knows the place, where he abides j And he may fetch him. Duke. Go, do it inftantly. And you, my noble and well-warranted Coufin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth ; Do with your injuries, as feems you beft, In any chaftifemenn : I for a while Will leave you* but Mir not you, 'till you have well Determined upon thefe flanderers. [Exit. Eftal. My lord, we'll do it throughly. S\gx\\or Lucio^ d:d not you fay, you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a diihoneft perfon ? Lucia, Cue alius non facit wonachum, honed in nothing, but Measure for Measure. 391 but in his cloaths j and one that hath fpoke moft villas nous fpeeches of the Duke. Efcal. We fhall intreat you to abide here 'till he come, and inforce them againft him > we fhall find this Friar a notable fellow. Lucio. As any in Vienna^ on my word. Efcal. Call that fame Ifabel here once again ; I would fpeak with her : pray you, my lord, give me leave to queftionj you (hall fee how I'll handle her. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Efcal. Say you ? Lucio. Marry, Sir, I think, if you handled her private- ly, me mould fooner confefs -, perchance, publickly fhe'll be alham'd. ftnter Duke in the Friar s habit^ and Provoft j Ifabella is brought in. Efcal. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way 5 for women are light at mid* night. EfcaL Come on, miftrefs: here's a gentlewoman de* nies all that you have faid. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rafcal I fpoke of, here with the Provoft. EfcaL In very good time: fpeak not you to him, 'till wc call upon you. Lucio. Mum. Efcal. Come, Sir, did you fet thefe women on to flander lord Angelo? they have confefs'd, you did. Duke. 'Tis falfe. Efcal. How ? know you where you are ? Duke. Refpect to your great Place \ and let the devil Be fometime honour'd for his burning throne. Where is the Duke? 'tis he fhould hear me fpeak. Efcal. The Duke's in us 5 and we willhearyou fpeak : Look, you fpeak juflly. Duke. Boldly, at leaft. But oh, poor fouls, Come you to feek the lamb here of the fax ? Good night to your redrefs : is the Duke gone? Then is ) our Caufe gone too. The Duke's unjuft, C c 4 Thui $9t Me as u re for Measure, Thus to retort your manifeft Appeal j And put your Tryal in the Villain's mouth, "Which here you come to accufe. Luck. This is the rafcal* this is he, I fpoke of. Efcal. Why, thou unrev'rend and unhallow'd Friar % Is't not enough thou hafl fuborn'd thefe women T'accufe this worthy man, but with foul mouth, And in the witnefs of his proper ear, To call him villain ; and then glance from him To th* Duke himfelf, to tax him with injuftice? Take him hence; to th' Rack with him: we'll touze you Joint by joint, but we will know his purpofe: What? unjuft? Duke. Be not fo hot 5 the Duke dare no more ftretch This finger of mine, than he dare rack his own: His Subject am I not, Nor here provincial 5 my bufinefs in this ftate Made me a looker on here in Vienna ; Where I have feen corruption boil and bubble, 'Till it o'er-run the flew: laws, for all faults 5 But faults fo countenanced, that the ftrong Statutes §cand like the forfeits in a barber's (hop, A.s much in mock as mark. Lfcal. Slander to th' State! away with him to prifon. Aug. What can you vouch againft him, fignior Lucio ? h this the man, that you did tell us of? Luck. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman baid-pate •> Do you know me? Duke, I remember you, Sir, by the found of your voice : I met you at the prifon in the ab fence of the Duke. Lucio. Oh, did you fo? and do you remember what you laid of the Duke? Duke. Mo ft notedly, Sir. Lucio. Do you fo, Sir? and was the Duke a flefh- monger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported ^im to be I Dukc*t Measure/^ Measure. 595 Duke. You muft, Sir, change perfons with me, ere you make that my report : you fpoke fo of him, and much more, much worfe. Luck* Oh thou damnable fellow ! did not I pluck thee by the nofe, for thy fpeeches ? Duke. I proteft, I love the Duke as I love my felf. Ang. Hark ! how the villain would clofc now, after his treafonable abufes. Efcah Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal ; a- way with him to prifon : where is the Provoft ? away with him to prifon j lay bolts enough upon him 5 let him fpeak no more $ away with thofe giglets too, and with the other confederate companion. Duke. Stay, Sir, flay a-while. Ang. What! refifts he? help him, Lucio. Lucio. Come, Sir $ come, Sir 5 come, Sir -, foh, Sir; why, you bald-pated lying rafcal j you muft be hood- ed, muft you ? {how your knave's vifage, with a pox to you 5 {how your {heep-biting face, and be hang'd an hour : will't not off? [Pulls off the Friar'5 hood, and difcovers the Duke.. Duke. Thou art the firft knave, that e'er mad'ft a Duke. Firft, Provoft, let me bail thefe gentle three. Sneak not away, Sir 5 for the Friar and you Muft have a word anon : lay hold on him. Lucio. This may prove worfe than hanging. Duke. What you have fpoke, I pardon j fit you down : [fo Efcalus. We'll borrow place of him. Sir, by your leave: Haft thou or word, or wit, or impudence, That yet can do thee office ? if thou haft, Rely upon it 'till my tale be heard, And hold no longer out. Ang. O my dread lord, I fhould be guiltier than my guiltinefs, To think I can be undifcernable> When I perceive your Grace, like Pow'r divine, Hath look'd upon my Pafles : then, good Prince, l^o longer Seffion hold upon my {haine$ Bus 3P4 Measure /or Measure," But let my Tryal be mine own Confeffion : Immediate Sentence then, and fequent death, Is all the grace I beg. Duke. Come hither, Mariana : Say$ waft thou e'er contracted to this woman? jing. I was, my lord. Duke. Go take her hence, and marry her inftantly. Do you the office, Friar \ which confummate, Return him here again : go with him, Provoft. [Exeunt Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft. Efcal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his difhonourj Than at the ftrangenefs of it. Duke. Come hither, lfabel-y your Friar is now your Prince : as I was then Advertifing, and holy to your bufinefs, Not changing heart with habit, I am (till Attornied at your fervice. Ifab. Oh, give me Pardon, That I, your vafial, have employ' d and pain'd Your unknown Soveraignty. Duke. You are pardon'd, Ifab el : And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, fits at your heart : And you may marvel, why I obfeur'd my felf, Labouring to fave his life ^ and would not rather Make rafh remonftrance of my hidden power, Than let him be fo loft: Oh, moft kind maid, It was the fwift celerity of his death, Which, I did think, with flower foot came on, Thatbrain'd my purpofe: but, peace be with him ! That life is better life, paft fearing death, Than That which lives to fear: make it your comfort 5 So, happy is your brother. Enter Angelo, Mariana, Peter, and Provoft. Ifab. 1 do, my lord. Duke. For this new-marry'd man, approaching here, Whofe fait imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well-defended honour, you muft pardon For Mariana's fake : but as he adjudg'd your brother, Being Measure for Measure. 395 Being criminal, in double violation Of facred chaftity, and of promife-breach, Thereon dependant for your brother's life, The very mercy of the law cries out Moft audible, even from his proper tongue, An Angelo for Claudio ; death for death. Hafte Jt ill pays hade, and leifure anfwers leifure ; Like doth quit like, and Meafure ftill for Meafure. Then, Angelo^ thy faults are manifefted -y Which tho' thou would'ft deny, denies thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block, Where Claudio ftoop'd to death j and with like hafte j Away with him. Mart. Oh, my moft gracious lord, I hope, you will not mock me with a husband ? Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husbancj. Confenting to the fafeguard of your honour, I thought your marriage fit > elfe imputation, For that he knew you, might reproach your life, And choak your good to come : for his Poileffions, Altho' by confifcation they are ours, We do enftate and widow you withal, To buy you a better husband. Mart, Oh, my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. Duke. Never crave him} we are definitive. Mart. Gentle, my Leige— Duke. You do but lofe your labour : Away with him to death. Now, Sir, to you. Mart. Oh, my good lord. Sweet Ifabel, take my part % Lend me your knees, and all my life to come I'll lend you all my life, to do you fervice. Duke. Againft all fenfe you do importune her j Should fhe kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghoft his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror. Mart. I fab el, Sweet Ifabel) do yet but kneel by me, Hold up your hai:ds, fay nothing; I'll fpeak all. They fay, beft men are moulded out of faults > And, 1^6 Measure/^ Measure? And, for the moft, become much more the better For being a little bad : fo may my husband. Oh, Ifabel! will you not lend a knee ? Duke. He dies for Claudia's death. Ifab. Moft bounteous Sir, [Kneeling* Look, if it pleafe you, on this man condcmn'd, As if my brother liv'd : I partly think, A due fincerity governed his deeds, 'Till he did look on mej fince it is fo, Let him not die. My brother had but juftice, In that he did the thing for which he dy'd > For Angela^ his a£fc did not o'ertake his bad intent ; And mult be bury'd but as an intent, That periuYd by the way : thoughts are no fubje&s 5 Intents, but meerly thoughts. Mari. Meerly, my lord. Duh. Your fuit's unprofitable j fland up, I fay: I have bethought me of another fault. Provoft) how came it, Claudio was beheaded At an unufual hour? Prov. It was commanded fo. Duke. Had you a fpecial Warrant for the deed ? Prov. No, my good lord ; it was by private meiTage, Duke. For which I do difcharge you of your Office ; Give up your keys. Prov. Pardon me, noble lord. I thought, it was a fault, but knew it not 5 Yet did repent me, after more advice : For teftimony whereof, one in th' prifon, That fhould by private Order elfe have dy'd, I have referv'd alive. Duke. What's he ? Prov. His name is Bamardine. Duke. I would, thou had'ft done fo by CUudio : Go, fetch him hither* let me look upon him. (50) EfcaL (30) Go, fetch him hither : ] The introducing Bamardine here, is, feemingly a matter of no Confequence ; as he is no Perfon concerned in the Action of the Play, nor dire&ly aiding to the Denouement, as the French call it, of the Plot : but, to our Poet's Praife, let me otyerve, that it Measure for Measure. 557 EJcal. I'm forry, one fo learned and fo wife As you, lord Angelo, have ftill appear'd, Should flip fo grofsly both in heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgment afterward. Ang. I'm forry, that fuch forrow I procure j And fo deep flicks it in my penitent heart, That I crave death more willingly than mercy : 'Tis my deferving, and I do intreat it. Enter Provoft, Barnardine, Claudio, and Julietta. Duke. Which is that Barnardine? Prov. This, my lord. Duke. There was a Friar told me of this man : Sirrah, thou'rt faid to have a ftubborn foul, That apprehends no further than this world* And fquar'ft thy life accordingly: thou'rt condemn'd* Eut for thofe earthly faults, I quit them all : I pray thee, take this mercy to provide For better times to come : Friar, advife him ; I leave him to your hand. What muffled fellow's that? Prov. This is another prifoner, that I fav'd, Who fhould have dy'd when Claudio loft his head j As like almoft to Claudio, as himfelf. Duke. If he be like your brother, for his fake Is he pardon'd > and for your lovely fake, Give me your hand, and fay, you will be mine, He is my brother too ; but fitter time for that. By this, lord Angelo perceives he's fafe ; Methinks, I fee a quickning in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well j Look, that you love your wife -y her worth, worth yours. I find an apt remiflion in my felf, And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon. You, firrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, [To Lucip. it is not done without double Art ; it gives a Handle for the Difcove- ry of Claudio being alive, and fo heightens the Surprize ; and, at th« fame time, by the Pardon of Barnardine, gives a fine Opportunity of making the Dukes Chara&er more amiable, both for Mercy, and Vir- tue. One 35>8 Measure for Measure. One of all luxury, an afs, a mad-man 5 Wherein have I deferved fo of you, That you- erttol me thus? Lucio. 'Faith, my lord, I fpoke it but according to the trick* if you will hang me for it, you may : but I had rather it would pleafe you, I might be whipt. Duke. Whipt firft, Sir, and hang'd after. Proclaim it, Provoft^ round about the city 5 If any woman, wrong'd by this lewd fellow, (As I have heard him fwear himfelf, there's one Whom he begot with child) let her appear, And he ftiall marry her ; the Nuptial finifh'd, Let him be whipt and hang'd. Lucio. I befeech your Highnefs, do not marry me to a whore: your Highnefs faid even now, I made you a Duke ; good my lord, do not recompence me, in making me a cuckold. Duke. Upon mine honour, thou flialt marry her: Thy flanders I forgive, and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits* take him to prifon ; And fee our pleafure herein executed. Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is prefling to death, whipping and han'ging. Duke. Sland'ring a Prince deferves it. She, Claudia^ that you wrong'd, look, you reftore. Joy to you, Mariana: love her, Angelo : (31) (31) Joy to you, Mariana ; love her Angelo :] I cannot help taking notice, with how much Judgment Shakefpeare has given Turns to this Story, from what lie found it in Cinthio Giraldts Novel. In the firrt place, the Brother, whom our Poet calls Claudio, is there actually exe- cuted : And the ungrateful Governor fends his Head in a Bravado, to the Sifter ; after he had debauch'd her, on Promiie of Marriage. A Circumftance of too much Horror, and Villany, for the Stage. And in the next place, this Siller afterwards is, to lolder up her Dilgrace, mar- ry'd to the Governor, and begs his Life of the Emperor, tho' he had fo unjuftly been the Death of her Brother. Both which Abfurdities our Poet has avoided by the Epifode of Mariana, a. Creature purely of his own Invention. The Dukes remaining incognito at home, to fupervife the Conduct of his Deputy, is alfo entirely our Author's Fiction. ■ This Story was attempted for the Scene by one George Whctjlone (before our Author was fourteen Years old,) in Two Comical Difccurfes (as they arc call'd) containing, the right, excellent and famous Hiftory of Promot Measure/^ Measuri. 3^ I have confefs'd her, and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Efcalus^ for thy much goodnefs : There's more behind, that is more gratulate. Thanks, Provoft^ for thy care and fecrefie* We fhall imploy thee in a worthier place : Forgive him, j2ngeloy that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's -9 Th' offence pardons it felf. Dear Ifabel^ I have a motion much imports your good, Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine: So bring us to our Palace, where we'll fhow What's yet behind, that's meet you all fhould know. [Exeunt* Promos and Cajfandra : and printed in the old Black Letter, in 1578. Neither of thefe Difcourfes, I believe, were ever acted: The Author left them with his Friends, to publilh ; for He, that very Year, ac- companied Sir Humphry Gilbert, Sir Walter Raleigh's Brother, in his Voyage to Norimbega in the Weft- Indies. I could prove to Demonftra- tion, that Shakefpeare had perus'd thefe Pieces ; but whoever has feen, and knows what execrable mean Stuff they are ; I am fure, will acquis him from all Sufpicion of Plagiarifm. Much MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. > ■■ *■ i Vol. I. D d Dramatis Perfonae. DON PEDRO, Prince of Arragon. Leonato, Governor of MeffiM. Don John, Baftard Brother to Don Pedro. Claudio, a young Lord of Florence, Favourite to Don Pedro. Benedick, a young Lord of Padua, favoured likeivife by Don Pedro. Balthafar, Servant to Don Pedro. Antonio, Brother to Leonato. Borachio, Confident to Don John. Conrade, Friend to Borachio. g y* L two fooiijh Officers. Verges, J J J Hero, Daughter to Leonato. Beatrice, Neice to Leonato. ♦Margaret, . ^ GentkivMen, attending on Hera. ' Urfula, 5 A Friar y Mejfenger, Watch, Town-Clcrk> Sexton, and Attendants. SCENE, MeJ/ina in Sicily. Much (,) Much Ado #&Mtf Nothing. »m^ mi n . . ■ . A C T I. S C E N E, a Court before LeonatoV Houfe. Enter Leonato, Hero, and Beatrice, with a Meffenger. t E O y A T O. Learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of 4r- ragon comes this night to JSdeJfma. Mejf. He is very near by this ; he was not three leagues off when I left him. Leon. How .many gentlemen have you loft in this a&ion ? '*} Mejf, But few of any Sort, and none of name. '// Leon. A vi&ory is twice it felf, when the atchiever brings home full numbers > I find here, that Don Pe- dro hath beftowed much honour on a young Florentine^ called Claudio. Mejf. Much defqrved on his part, and equally re- membred by Don Pedro : he hath borne himfelf be- (0 Much 4Jfi about Nothing.'] Innogen, (the Mother of Hero) in the oldeft Quarto that I have leen of this Play, printed in 1600, is mentioned tp eater in two feveral Scenes. The fucceeding Editions have all continued her Name in the Dramatis Per/once. But I have tfentur'd to ^expunge it ; there being no mention of her thro' the Play, no one Speech addrefs'd to her, nor one Syllable fpoken by her. Nei- ther is there any one PaiTage, from which ,we have any Reafon to deter- mine that Hero's Mother was living. It feems, .as if the Poet had in his firft Plan defign'd {uch a Character ; which, on a Survey of it, he found would be fuperfluous ; and therefore he left it out. D d z yond r/ 4^4 Much Ado about Nothin g. yohd the promife of his age, doing in the figure of a lamb the feats of a lion : he hath, indeed, better bet- ter'd expectation, than you mult expert of me to tell you how. Leon. He hath an uncle here in Mejftna will be very much glad of it. Mejf. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him ; even fo much, that joy could not fhew it felf modeft enough, without a badge of bitternefs. Leon, Did he break out into tears ? Mejf. la great meafure. Leon. A kind overflow of kindnefs ; there are no faces truer than thofe that are fo wanYd 5 how much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping? Beat. I pray you, is Signior Montanto returned from the wars or no. Mejf. I know none of that name, Lady $ there was none fuch in the army of any Sort. Leon. What is he that you ask for, Neice? Hero. My Coufin means Signior Benedick ot Padua. Mejf, O, he's return'd, and as pleafant as ever he was. Beat. He fet up his bills here in Mejfma^ and chal- lenge Cupid at the flight 5 and my Uncle's fool, read- ing the challenge, fubferib'd for Cupid, and challeng'd him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he kill'd and eaten in thefe wars ? but how many hath he kill'd? for, indeed, I promis'd to eat all of his killing. Leon. 'Faith, Neice, you tax Signior Benedick too much 5 but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mejf. He hath done good fervice, Lady, in thefe wars. Beat. You had mufty victuals, and he hath holp to eat it 5 he's a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent ftomach. Mejf. And a good foldier too, Lady. Beat. And a good foldier to a lady? but what is he to a lord ? Mejf. Much Ado about Nothing. 405 Mejf. A lord to a lord, a man to a man, ftufft with all honourable virtues. Beat, It is fo^ indeed : (2) he is no lefs than, a ftufc, man : but for the fluffing., — welL we are all mortal^ "Leon. You mufr. not, sir, mi (take my Neice; there is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her j they never meet, but there's a skirmifh of wit between them. Beat, Alas, he gets nothing by That. In our laft conflict, four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man govern'd with one : So that if he have wit enough to keep himfelf warm, let him bear it for a difference between himfelf and his horfe j for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reafonable creature. Who is his companion now? he hath every month a new fworn brother. Mejf. Is it poflible? Beat. Very eafily poflible; he wears his faith but as the fafhion of his hat, it ever changes with the next block. Mejf. I fee, Lady, the gentleman is not in your books. Beat. No; an he were, I would burn my Study. But, I pray you, who is his companion ? is there no young fquarer now, that will make a voyage withTurn fojEhe^fevTIZZ^" Mef. He is mofl in the company of the right noble Claudi*. Beat. O lord, he will hang upon him like a difeafe; he is fooner caught than the peftilence, and the taker runs prefently mad. God help the noble Glaudio, if he have caught the Benedick \ it will cofl him a thoufand pound ere he be cur'd. (2) he is no lefs than a ftufft man: hut for the Stuffing welly, ive are all mortal?^ Thus has this Paflage been all along ftoftd, from the very iirft Edition downwards. If any of the Editors could extract Senfe from this Pointing, their Sagacity is a Pitch above mine. I be- lieve, by my Regulation of the Stops, I have retriev'd the Poet's true Meaning. Our Poet leems to ufe the Word Stuffing here much as Plautus does in his Moftellaria ', Act. I . Sc, 3 , Nan Vejlem amatores mulieris amant, fed Veftis fartum, Dd 5 Mef. 4Q6 Much Ado about NdTHiKG* Meff. IjgnUjipjd^iends with yoii, Lady. Beat. Do, good~fnen37 Leon. YotiTlne'er run triad, Neiee. Beat. No, not 'till a hot January. Mejf. Don /W™ is approeh'd. £0/ I can be fecret as a dumb man, I would have ycu think foy but on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance:- he is in love> with whom? now that is your Grace's part: mark, how fhort his anfwer is, with Hero, Leonato's fhort daughter. Claud. If this were fo, fo were it uttered. Bene. Like the old tale, my lord, it is not fo, nor 'twas not foj but, indeed, God forbid it mould be fo. Claud. If my paffion change not fhortly, God for- bid it mould be otherwife. Pedro. Amen, if you love her, for the Lady is very well worthy. Claud. You fpeak this to fetch me in, my Lord. Pedro. By my troth, I fpeak my thought. Claud. And, in faith, my Lord, I fpoke mine. Bene. And by my two faiths and troths, my Lord, I fpeak mine. Claud. That I love her, I feel. Pedro. That (he is worthy, I know. Bene. That I neither feel how fhe fhould be loved, nor know how fhe fhould be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of mej I will die in it at the flake. Pedro. Thou waft ever an obftinate heretick in the defpight of beauty. Claud. And never could maintain his part, but in the force of his will. Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that fhe brought me up, I likewife give her mofl hum- ble thanks : but that I will have a recheate winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in_an invifible bald- jjckj all women (hall pardon me* becaufe I will not do them the Wrong to miftruft any, I will do my felf the Right to truft none* and the fine is, (for the which I may go the finer,) I will live a batchelor. Pedro. I mail fee thee, ere I die, look pale with love. Bene. With anger, with ficknefs, or with hunger, my lord, not with love: prove, that ever I lofe more blood with love, than I will get again with drinking, pick 4 1 o MuchAdo about Nothing. pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-houfe for the Sign of blind Cupid. Pedro. Well, if ever thou do ft fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument. Bene. If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and flioot at me ; ancUjethathit^^ the moulder, an?^air3r^^7"(^J^ ~~~Fe3rf. Well, as time ihalT try 3 in time the favage bull doth bear the yoke. Bene. The favage bull may, but if ever the fenfible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull's-horns, and fet them in my forehead, and let me be vilely painted} and in fuch great letters as they write, Here is good (3) And he that hits me, let him be clap'd in the Shoulder, and call V Adam.] But why mould he therefore be call'd Adam ? Perhaps, by a Quotation or two We may be able to trace the Poet's Alluiion here. In Law-Tricks, or, Who would have thought it, (a Comedy written by J ohm Day, and printed in 1608) I find this Speech. I ha Again, Adam Bell, a fubftantial Outlaw, and a pajfing good Archer, yet no Tobaceonift. By This it appears, that Adam Bell at that time of day was of Repu- tation for his Skill at the Bow. I find him again mention' d in a Burleiqu? Poem of Sir William Davenpnfs, call'd, The long Vacation in Londoru Now lean Attorney, that his Cheefe Ne'er par d, nor Verfes took for Fees, And aged Proclor, that coutraufs The Feats of Punk in Court of Pauls, Do each with folemn Oath agree To meet in fields ^Finsbury : With Loins in Canvas how-cafe tied, Where arrows flick with michle Pride ; With Hats pinnd up} and Bow; in hand, All day mo ft fiercely there they ft and, tike Ghofts ef Adam, Bell, and Clymme; Sol fets, far Fear they'll Jhoot at hi si. By the Pailage, which I above quoted from Law-.Tricis, 'tis plai»> Sir Williams Editor has falfely pointed the lafl Line but one; We mull correct it thus ; Like Ghofts of 'Adam Bell, and Clymme ; 'Tis this Wight, no Doubt, whom our Author here alludes to : and had I the Convenience of confulting Afcham% Toxophilus, I might probably grow better acquainted with his Hillary. Horfe Much Ado about Nothing. 411 Horfe to hire, let them ft^ifie under my Sign, Here yon may fee Benedick the marrfd man, Claud, If this fhould ever happen, thou would'fl: be horn-mad. Pedro, Nay, if Cupid hath not fpent all his quiver in Venice^ thou writ quake for this mortly. Bene, I look for an earthquake too then. Pedro, Well you will temporize with the hours 5 in the mean time, good Signior Benedick^ repair to Leo- nato's, commend me to him, and tell him I will not fail him at foppery for, indeed, he hath made great pre- paration. Bene. I have almoft matter enough in me for fuch an embaflage, and (a I commit you Claud, To the tuition of God 5 From my houfe, if I had it,—— Pedro, The fixth oijuly^ your loving friend, Benedick. Bene, Nay, mock not, mock not j the body of your difcourfe is fomctime guarded with fragments, and the guards are but {lightly bafted on neither: ere you Sout old ends any further, examine your confeience, and fo I leave you. [£#/7. Claud, My Liege, your Highnefi now may do me good. Pedro, My love is thine to teach, teach it but how, And thou (halt fee how apt it is to learn Any hard leflbn that may do thee good. Claud, Hath Leonato any fon, my lord? Pedro, No child but Hero, {he's his only heir: Doft thou affect her, Claudio? Claud, O my lord, When you went onward on this ended action, I look'd upon her with a foldier's eye; That lik'd, but had a rougher task in hand Than to drive liking to the name of love; But now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts Have left their places vacant ; in their rooms Come thronging foft and delicate Defires, All prompting me how fair young Hero isj Saying, I lik'd her ere I went to wars. Pedro. 4-i * Much Ado about Nothing. Pedro. Thou wilt be like a lover prefently, And tire the hearer with a book of words : If thou doft love fair Hero, cherifh it, And I will break with her : and with her Father, And Thou flialt have her : was't not to this end, That thou began' ft to twift fo fine a ftory ? Claud. How fweetly do you minifter to love, That know love's grief by his comple&ion! But left my liking mighty too fudden feem, I would have falv'd it with a longer treatife. Pedro. What need the bridge much broader than the flood? The faireft grant is the neceffityj Look, what will ferve, is fit; 'tis once, thoulov'ftj And I will fit thee with the remedy. I know, we fhall have revelling to night j I will aflume thy part in fome difguife, And tell fair Hero I am Claudio -y And in her bofom I'll unclafp my heart, And take her hearing prifoner with the force And ftrong encounter of my amorous tale : Then, after, to her father will I break j And the conclufion is, fhe fhall be thine -, In pra&ice let us put it prefently. [Exeunt. Re-enter Leonato and Antonio. Leon. How now, brother, where is my Coufin your fon? hath he provided this mufick? Ant. He is very bufie about it* but, brother, I can tell you news that you yet dream'd not of. Leon. Are they good? Ant. As the event ftamps them, but they have a good cover; they fhow well outward. The Prince and Count Claudio^ walking in a thick-pleached alley in my orchard, were thus over-heard by a man of mine:. The Prince di'fcover'd to Claudio^ that he lov'd my neice your daughter, and meant to acknowledge it this night in a dance -, and if he found her accordant, he meant to take the prefent time by the top, and inftantly break with you ot it. Leon. Much Ado about Nothing. 415 Leon. Hath the fellow any wit, that told you this ? Ant. A good {harp fellow -, I will fend for him, and queflion him your felf. Leon. No, no> we will hold it as a dream, 'till it appear it felf: but I will acquaint my daughter with- al, that fhe may be the better prepared for anfwer, if perad venture this be true* go you and tell her of it : Coufins, you know what you have to do. [Several crofs the Stage here."] O, I cry you mercy, friend, go you with me and I will ufe your skill ; good Coufin, have a care this bufie time. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to an Apartment in LeonatoV Houfe. Enter Don John and Conrade. Cvnr. \T 7 Hat the good-jer, my lord, why are you VV thus out of meafure fad? John. There is no meafure in the occafion that breeds it, therefore the fadnefs is without limit, Conr. You fhould hear reafon. John. And when I have heard it, what Bleffing bringeth it? Conr. If not a prefent remedy, yet a patient fuf- ferance. John. I wonder, that thou (being, as thou fay'ft thou art, born under Saturn) goeft about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mifchief: I cannot hide what I am: I muft be fad when I have caufe, and fmile at no man's jefls > eat when I have ftomach, and wait for no man's leifure; fleep when I am drowfie, and tend on no man's bufinefsj laugh when I am merry, and claw no man in his humour. Conr. Yea, but you muft not make the full {how of this, 'till you may do it without controlement 5 you have of late flood out againft your brother, and he hath ta'en you newly into his grace, where it is im- poflible you fhould take root, but by the fair weather that you make your felf j it is needful that you frame the feafon for your own harveft. John. 414 Match AiDo &kmt Nothing John. 1 had .rather be a canker in a liedge, than a rofe in his grace; and it better fits my blood to be difdain'd of all, than to fafhion a carriage to rob love from imy : in this, (though I cannot he faixl to be a flattering ihoneit man) it mA aiot :bc deny'd but I am a plain-deaiin.g villainy I am traded with a muz- 2x1, and infr&nchSed with a -dog, therefore I have de- creed not to fing in my cage: if I jhad my mouth, I would bite 5 if I had asry liberty, I would do my liking : in Jibe mean time let nne be that I am, and feek not to .alter me. Com. Can you make no ufe of your difcontent? John. I will make all ufe of it, For I ufe it only. Who comes here? ^what news,, Boraohio? J+mHr Borachio. Bora. Icame yonder from a great £up per; the Prince, your brother, is royally entertain'd by Leonato, and I can give you intelligence of an intended marriage. John. Willir;ferveffarany model to build mifchief on? what is he for a fool, that betroths himfelf to un- quietnefs? Bora. Marry, it is your brother's right hand. John. Who, the moft exquifite Clmdio? Bora. Even he. John. A jprqper Sguke! and who, and who? which way looks he ? &em. Marry, on//*w, the daughter and heir ofXw- 1MtO. Jjohn. A very. forward March chick! How come yotf to this? Mora. Bejnj^cnwmin^ as I was fmoaking a mufty room, comes me the Prince and Clmdio hand in hand in fed conference : I whipt be- hind the Arras, and there heard it agreed upon, that the lPrince,ftiould wooHeroSor himfelf* and having ob- tained her, give her to Count Claudio. John. Come, come, let us thither, this may prove food to my jdifpteakre ; that young ftart-up hath all the glory of my overthrow^ if I can croft him any way, Much Ado about Nothing. 415 way, I blefs my felf every way $ you are both fare, and will aflift me. Cow. To the death, my lord. John. Let us to the great fupper j their Cheer is the greater, that I am fubdu'd 3 would the cook were of my mind ! — -mall we go prove what's to be done? iBorti. We'll wait upon your lordfhip. [Exeunt. ACT H. SCENE, a Hall in LeonatoV Houfi. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, Margaret and Urfula. L lL O N A T O. WA S not Count John here at Supper? Ant. I faw him not. Beat. Hbw -tartly that gentleman iooks ! I never can fee him, but I am freart-burn'd an hour after. Hero. He is of a very melancholy difpofition. Beat. He were an excellent man, that were made juft in the mid-way between him and Benedick; the one is too like an image, and feys nothing : and the other too like my lady's eldeft fon, evermore tatling. JLeon. Then half Signior Benedick's tongue fn Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face 1 — Beat. With a good leg, and a good foot, Uncle, and mony enough in his purfe, fuch a man would win any woman in the world, if he could get her good Will. Leon. By my troth, Neice, thou wilt never get -thee a husband, if thou be fo ihrewd of thy tongue. Ant. In faith, {he's too curft. Beat, 4i£ Much Alio about Nothing. Beat. Too curft is more than curft 5 I {hall leflen God's fending that way 5 for it is faid, God fends a curft: Cow fhort horns -, but to a Cow too curft he fends none. Leon. So, by being too curft, God will fend you no horns. Beat. Juft, if he fend me no husband ; for the which Blefling I am at him upon my knees every morn- ing and evening : Lord ! I could not endure a huf- band with a beard on his face, I had rather lye in woollen. Leon. You may light upon a husband, that hath no beard. Beat. What fhould I do with him ? drefs him in my apparel, and make him my waiting-gentlewoman ? he that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is lefs than a man 5 and he that is more than a youth, is not for me j and he that is lefs than a man, I am not for him: therefore I will even take fix pence in earneft of the beq.r-herd, and lead his apes into hell. Leon. Well then, go you into hell, Beat. No, but to the gate 5 and there will the de- vil meet me, like an old cuckold, with his horns on his head, and fay, " get you to heaven, Beatrice, get " you to heav'n, here's no place for you maids." fo deliver I up m£ apes, and away to St. Peter^ for the- heav'ns •, he fhews me where the batchelors fit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. Ant. Well, Neice, I truft, you will be rul'd by your father. P* Hero. Beat. Yes, faith, it is my Coufin's duty to make curtfie, and fay, Father^ as it pleafe you y but yet for all that, Coufin, let him be a handfome fellow, or elfe make another curtfie, and fay, Father, as it pleafes me. . Leon. Well, Neice, I hope to fee you one day fitted with a husband. Beat. Not 'till God make men of fomc other metal than earth 5 would it not grieve a woman to be over- malter* I MuCMADO^k/NoTHING. 4*7 mafter'd with a piece of valiant duft? to make account of her life to a clod of way-ward marie ? no, uncle, I'll none 5 Adam's ions are my brethren, and truly, I hold it a fin to match in my kindred. Leon. Daughter, remember, what I told you 5 if the Prince do follicit you in that kind, you know your an- fwer. Beat. The fault will be in the mufick, coufin, if you be not woo'd in good time 5 (4) If the Prince be too important, tell him, there is meafure in every thing, and fo dance out the Anfwcr ; for hear me, Hero, wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a meafure, and a cinque-pace 5 the firft fuit is hot and hafty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantaftical -,\ the wedding mannerly-modeft, as a meafure, full of ftate and anchentryj and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace fafter and fafter, 'till he finks into his grave. Leon. Coufin, you apprehend paffing fhrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle, I can fee a church by day-light. Leon. The revellers are entring, brother $ make good room. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick, Balthazar, and others in Mafquerade. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend ? Hero. So you walk foftly, and look fweetly, and fay nothing, I am yours for the walk, and efpecially when I walk away. ,. , Pedro. With me in your company ? Hero. I may fay fo, when I pleafe. Pedro. And when pleafe you to fay fo? (4) If the Prince be too importunate,] This is the Reading only of Mr. Pope's Impreffions, as I can find, and warranted by none of the Copies. I have reftor'd with all the old Books, important i i. e. if the Prince be too forcible, preffing, lays too much Strefs on his Suit, &c. The Poet employs this word again, in the like Signification, in K. Lear. __ — therefore great France My Mourning, and important Tears hath pitied. Vol. I. Ec Hero. 4i 8 Much Ado about Nothing. Hero. When I like your favour ; for God defend, the lute ihould be like the cafe ! Pedro, (f) My vifor is P?;lic;;ion$ roof; within the houfe is Jove* Hero. Why, then your vifor fhould be thatch'd. (5) My Vifor is Philemon'/ Roof, within the Houfe is Love.] Thus the whole Stream of the Copies, from the firit downwards. I mult own, this Paflage for a long while appeard very obfeure to me, anH gave^ me much Trouble in attempting to underitand it. Hero fays to Do-: Pedro, God forbid, the Lute ihouTd be like the Cafe ! i. e. that your Face ihould be as homely and as courie as your Mask. Upon this, Don Pe- dro compares his Vifor to Philemon 's Roof. 'Tis plain, the Poet alludes to the Story of Baucis and Philemon from Ovid: And this old Cou- ple, as the' Rowan Poet defcribes it, liv'd in a thatch" d Cottage; > Stipulis & can?: a teiia falufiri. But why, Within the Houfe is Love ? Baucis and Philemon, 'tis true, had liv'd to old Age together, in a comfortable State of Agreement. But Piety and Hoipitalitv are the top Parts of their Character. Our Poet un- questionably goes a little deeper into the Story. Tho* this, old Pair Jiv'd in a Cottage, this Cottage receiv'd two itraggling Gods, (Jupiter 'and Mercury) under its Roof. So, Don Pedro is a Prince; and tho1 his Vilor is but ordinary, he would inhnuate to Hero, that he has fome- thing god-like within': alluding either to his Dignity, or the Qualities of his Perfon and Mind. By thefe Circumftances, I am fure, the Thought is mended : as, I think verily, the Text is too by the Change of a fmgle Letter. '■ within the Houfe is Jove. I made this Correction in my Shakespeare rejlord ; and Mr. Pope has vouchtaf d to adopt it, in his laft Edition. Nor is this Emendation a little cc-nfirm'd by another Paifage in our Author, in which he plainly alludes to the fame Story. As you like it. Clown. / am here with thee and thy Goats, as the moft capricious P. ft, hcnefl Ovid, was among jl the Goths. Jaq. O Knowledge ill inhabited, worfe than Jove in a thatch'd Houfe. I am naturally drawn here to corrett a PafTage in Beaumont and etcher's Two Noble Kin/men, where a Fault of the like Kind has ob- tain'd in all the Copies. - here Lome h'unfelf fits fmiling\ Juft fuch Another wanton Ganymede Set Love afire with, and enforcd the God Snatch up the goodly Boy, and fet him by him A jhlnirg Conficilation : " All my Readers', who are acquainted with the poetical Hiftory here to, will concur with me in the Certainty of the following Emen- dation : Jufi fuch Another wanton Ganymede t Jove a-fire with, > Pedro, Much Ado about Nothing, 412 1 Pedro. Speak low, if you fpeak love. j Balth. Well 5 I would, you did like me. (6) Marg. So would not I for your own fake, for I have (many ill qualities. f Balth. Which is one? Marg. I fay my Prayers aloud. Balth. I love you the better, the hearers may cry Amen. Marg. God match me with a good dancer ! Balth. Amen. Marg. And God keep him out of my fight when the | dance is done! Anfwer, Clerk. Balth. No more words, the clerk is anfwer'd. Urf. I know you well enough j you are Signior An- , ; tonio. Ant. At a word, I am not. I Vrf. I know you by the wagling of your head. Ant. To tell you true, I counterfeit him. Urf. You could never do him fo ill-well, unlefs you were the very man : here's his dry hand up and down j you are he, you are he. Ant. At a word, I am not. . Urf. Come, come, do you think, I do not know you I by your excellent wit ? can virtue hide it felf ? go to, mum, you are he; graces will appear, and there's an end. i Beat. Will you not tell me, who told you fo ? Bene. No, you fhall pardon me. Beat. Nor will you not tell me, who you are? Bene. Not now. Beat. That I was difdainful, and that I had my good Wit out of the Hundred merry Tales 5 well, this was Signior Benedick that faid fo. Bene. What's he? (6) Balth. Well', I would, you did like me."] This and the two fol- lowing little Speeches , which I have placed to Balthafar, are in all the printed Copies given to Benedick. But, 'tis clear, the Dialogue here ought to be betwixt Baltbafar, and Margaret : Benedick, a little lower, converfes with Beatrice ; and fo every Man talks with his Woman once round. £ e & Beat. 4io Much Ado about Nothing. Beat . I am fure, you know him well enough. Bene, Not I, believe me. Beat. Did he never make you laugh? Bene. I pray you, what is he ? Beat. Why, he is the Prince's jefter-, a very dull fool, only his gift is in deviling impoflible (landers : none but libertines delight in him, and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany, for he both pleafeth men and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and beat him j I am fure, he is in the fleet j I would, he had boarded me. Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you fay. Beat. Do, do, he'll but break a comparifon or two on me> which, peradventure, not mark'd, or not laugh'd at, ftrikes him into melancholy, and then there's a partridge wing fav'd, for the fool will eat no fupper that night. We mull follow the leaders. \Mufick within. Bene. In every good thing. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Exeunt. Manent John, Borachio, and Claudio. John. Sure, my brother is amorous on Hero^ and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it: the ladies follow her, and but one vifor remains. Bora.? And that is Claudio-, I know him by his Bear- ing- John. Are you not Signior Benedick ? Claud. You know me well, I am he. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love, he is cnamour'don Hero, I pray you, difluade him Irom her, ihe is no equal for his birth j you may do the part of an honed man in it. Chud. How know ye, he loves her? John. I heard him (wear his affefition. Bora. So did I too, and he fwore he would marry her to night. John. M u c h A d o about Nothing, 411 John, Come, let us to the banquet. [Exeunt John and Bor» Claud. Thus anfwer I in name of Benedick, But hear this ill news with the ears of Claudio. 'Tis certain fo, the Prince wooes for himfelf. Friendfliip is conftant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love* Therefore all hearts in love ufe their own tongues, Let every eye negotiate for it felf, And truft no agent j beauty is a witch, Againft whofe charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I miftrufted not. Farewel then, Here ! Enter Benedick. Bene. Count Claudia? Claud. Yea, the fame. Bene. Come, will you go with me? Claud. Whither ? Bene. Even to the next W-llow, about your own bufinefs, Count. What fafhion will you wear the gar- land of ? about your neck, like an Ufurer's chain ? or under your arm, like a Lieutenant's fcarf ? you muft wear it oije way, for the Prince hath got your Hero. Claud. I wiih him joy of her. Bene. Why, that's ipoken like an honeft: drover j fo they fell bullocks : but did you think, the Prince would have ferved you thus ? Claud. I pray you, leave me. Bene. Ho ! now you ftrike like the blind man •, 'twas the boy that ilole your meat, and you'll beat the poft. Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. {Exit. Bene. Alas, poor hurt fowle! now will he creep into fedges. But that my lady Beatrice fhould know me, and not know me! the Prince's fool! ha? it may be, I go under that Title, becaufe I am merry ; yea, but fo I am apt to do my felf wrong: I am not fo reputed. It is the bafe (tho' bitter) difpofition of Ee 5 Beatrice 4*2< Much Ado^?WNothing. Beatrice, that puts the world into her perfon, and fo gives me out j well, I'll be revenged as I may. Enter Don Pedro. Pedro. Now, Signior, where's the Count ? did you fee him ? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have play'd the part of lady Fame. I found him here as melancholy as a lodge in a warren, I told him (and I think, told him true) that your Grace had got the Will of this young lady, and I offer'd him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forfaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipt. Pedro. To be whipt ! what's his fault ? Bene. The flat tranfgreffion of a fchool-boy; who, being over-joy'd with finding a bird's neft, fhews it his companion, and he fteals it. Pedro. Wilt thou make a truft, a tranfgreffion? the tranfgreffion is in the ftealer. Bene. Yet it had not been amifs, the rod had been made, and the garland too ; for the garland he might have worn himfelf, and the rod he might have be- ftow'd on you, who (as I take it) have ftoPn his bird's neft. Pedro. I will but teach them to fing, and reftore them to the owner. Bene. If their finging anfwer your faying, by my faith, you fay honeftly. Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you ; the gentleman, that dane'd with her, told her fhe is much wrong'd by you. Bene. O, the mifus'd me pad the induranee of a block ; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have anfwer'd her ; my very vifor began to aflume life, and fcold with her; {he told me, not thinking I had been my felf, that I was the Prince's jefter, and that I was duller than a great thaw; (7) hudling jeft upon (?) — — hudling jeft upon jeft, nvith fuch impoflible conveyance, upon me.] Thus all the printed Copies; but I freely confefs, I can't poflibly Much Ado ^/Nothing. 423 npnnpft, with fuch impaffable conveyance upon me, that : llrood like a man at a mark, with a whole army L noting at mej fhe fpeaks Ponyards, and every word flans > ir" her breath were as terrible as her terminati- on^, there were no living near her, fhe would infecT: to the Notch-Star* I would not marry her, though ilie were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he tranfgrefs'dj fhe would have made Hercules have turn'd Spit, yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her, you fhall find her the infernal. Ate in good apparel. I would to God, fome fcholar would conjure her \ for, certainly, while fhe is here a man may live as quiet in hell as in a fan&uary, and people fin upon purpofe, becaufe they would go thi- ther $ fo, indeed, all difquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. Enter Claud io, Beatrice, Leonato and Hero. Pedro. Look, here ilie comes. Bene. Will your Grace command me any fervice to the world's end? I will go on the flighted errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devife to fend me on ; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the fartheft inch of Afia > bring you the length of Prefter John's foot j fetch you a hair off the great Cham's beard > do you any ambaflage to the pigmies, rather than hold three words conference with this harpy $ you have no em- ployment for me? Pedro. None, but to defire your good company. Bene, O God, Sir, here's a difli I love not. I can-, not indure this Lady Tongue. Pedro. Come, Lady, come* you have loft the heart of Signior Benedick. Beat, Indeed, my Lord, he lent it me a while, and I gave him ufe for it, a double heart for a fingle one $ poffibly underftand the Phrafe. I have ventured to fubftitute impajfable. To make a Pafs (in Fencing,) is, to thruft. pufti : and by impafable, I prefume, the Poet meant, that lie pufh'd her jefts upon him with fuch Saviftnefs, that it was impofiible for him to pafs them off, to party them, E e 4 marry, 414 Much Ado about Nothing. marry, once before he won it of me with falfe dice, therefore your Grace may well fay, I have loft it. Pedro. You have put him down, Lady, you have put him down. Beat. So I would not he iriould do me, my Lord, left I mould prove the mother of fools : I have brought Count Claudio^ whom you fent me to feek. Pedro* Why, how now, Count, wherefore are you fad? Claud. Not fad, my Lord. Pedro. How then ? fick ? Claud. Neither, my Lord. Beat* The Count is neither fad, nor fick, nor merry, nor well > but civil, Count, civil as an orange, and fome* thing of that jealous complexion. Pedro. I'faith, Lady, I think your blazon to be true$ though I'll be fworn, if he be fo, his conceit is falfe. Here, Claudio^ I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won > I have broke with her father, and his good will obtained 5 name the day of marriage, and God give thee joy. Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes : his Grace hath made the match, and all grace fay, Amen, to it. Beat. Speak, Count, 'tis your cue. — Claud. Silence is the perfefteft herald of joy $ I were but little happy, if I could fay how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours : I give away my felf for you, and doat upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, Coufin, or (if you cannot) flop his mouth with a kifs, and let him not fpeak neither. Pedro. In faith, Lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. Yea, my Lord, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy fide of care ; my coufin tells him in his car that he is in her heart. Claud. And fo {he doth, coufin. Beat. Good Lord, for alliance ! thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am fun-burn'd j I may fit in a corner, and cry heigh ho ! for a husband. Pedro. Lady Beatrice* I will get you one. Beat. Much Ado about Nothing. 42.5 Beat. I would rather have one of your Father's get* ting : hath your Grace ne'er a brother like you? your Father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. Pedro. Will you have me, Lady ? Beat. No, my Lord, unlefs I might have another for working-days ; your Grace is too coftly to wear every day : but, I befeech your Grace, pardon me, I was born to fpeak all mirth and no matter. Pedro. Your filence moft offends me, and to be mer- ry beft becomes you 5 for, out of queftion, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, fure, my Lord, my mother cry'd 5 but then there was a ftar danc'd, and under that I was born. Coufins, God give you joy. Leon. Neice, will you look to thofe things I told you of? Beat. I cry you mercy, Uncle : by your Grace's pardon, {Exit Beatrice. Pedro. By my troth, a pleafant-fpirited Lady. Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my Lord 5 ihe is never fad but when (he fleeps, and not ever fad then 5 (8) for I have heard my daughter fay, fee hath often dream'd of an happinefsj and wak'd her felf with laughing. Pedro. She cannot endure to hear tell of a huf- band. Leon. O, by no means, fhe mocks all her wooers out of fuit. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. Leon. O Lord, my Lord, if they were but a week marry'd, they would talk themfelves mad. Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church ? (8) For I ba but, I warrant thee, Claudio, the time mail not go dully by us ; I will in the Interim undertake one of Hercules's labours, which is to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of af~ fe&ion the one with the other; I would fain have it a match, and I doubt not to fafhion it, if you three will but minifter fuch afliftance as I ihall give you di^ re£Hon. Leon. My Lord, I am for you, though it coft me ten nights watch ings. Claud. And 1, my Lord. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero ? Hero. I will do any modeft office, my Lord, to help my Coufin to a good husband. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefulleft huf- band that I know : thus far I can praife him, he is of a noble ftrain, of approv'd valour, and confirm'd ho- nefty. I will teach you how to humour your Coufin, that me mail fall in love with Benedick \ and I, with your two helps, will fo pra&ife on Benedick, that in defpight of his quick wit, and his queafie ftomach, he ihall fall in love with Beatrice: if we can do this, Cu- pid is no longer an archer, his glory mall be ours, for we are the only Love-Gods •> go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to another Apartment in LeonatoV Houfe. Enter Don John and Borachio. John. T T is fo, the Count Claudio mail marry the JL Daughter of Lecnato. Bora. Yea, my Lord, but I can crofs it. John, Much Ado about Nothing. 427 John. Any bar, any crofs, any impediment will be medicinable to me $ \ am fick in difpleafurc to him 5 and whatfoever comes athwart his affe&ion, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou crofs this mar- riage ? Bora. Not honeftly, my Lord, but fo covertly that no difhonefty fhall appear in me. John. Shew me briefly how. Bora. I think, I told your lordfliip a year fince, how much I am in the favour of Margaret^ the waiting- gentlewoman to Hero. John. I remember. Bora. 1 can, at any unfeafonable inftant of the night, appoint her to look out at her Lady's chamber-win- dow. John. -What life is in That, to be the death of this marriage ? Bora. The poifon of That lyes in you to temper 5 go you to the Prince your brother, fpare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his Honour in marrying the re- nown'd Claudio, (whofe eftimation do you mightily hold up) to a contaminated Stale, fuch a one as Hero. John. What proof fhall I make of That? Bora. Proof enough, to mifufe the Prince, to vex ClaudiO} to undo Hero9 and kill Leonato 5 look you for any other iflue? John. Only to defpite them, I will endeavour any thing. (9) Bora. Go then find me a meet hour, to draw Don PedrOj (9) Bora. Go then, find me a meet hour to draw on Pedro and the Count Claudio, alone } tell them that you know Hero hues me ; — Offer them Injlances which fhall bear no lefs Likelihood than to fee me at her Chamber-window ; hear me call Margaret, Hero ; hear Margaret term me Claudio; and bring them to fee this the they will hardly believe this without tryal : of- fer them inftances, which fhall bear no lefs likelihood than to fee me at her chamber- window 5 hear me call Margaret j Hero j hear Margaret term me Borachio $ and bring them to fee this, the very night before the in* tended Wedding j for in the mean time I will fo fafhion the matter, that Hero fhall be abfentj and there fhall appear fuch feeming truths of Heroes difloyalty, that jealoufie fhall be call'd afliirance, and all the preparati- on overthrown. John. Grow this to what adverfe iflue it can, I will put it in practice : be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thoufand ducats. zealous to difappoint the Match. Borachio, a rafcally Dependant on Don John, offers his Afliftance, and engages to break off the Marriage by this Stratagem. " Tell the Prince and Claudio (fays He) that Hem *' is in Love with Me ; they wont believe it; offer them Proofs, as that " they fhall fee me converfe with her in her Chamber-window ; I am " in the good Graces of her Waiting-woman Margaret j and I'll 41 prevail with Margaret at a dead Hour of Night to perfonate " her Miftrefs Hero; do you then hring the Prince and Claudio to rf overhear our Difcourfe; and They fhall have the Torment to hear " me addrefs Margaret by the Name of Hero, and her fay fweet things °* to me by the Name of Claudio" This is the Subftance of Barachio's Device to make Hero fufpected of Difloyalty, and to break off her Match with Claudio. But, in the Name of common Senfe, could it difpleafe Claudio to hear his Miftrefs making Ufe of his Name tenderly ? If he favv another Man with her, and heard her call him Claudio, he might reafonably think her betray'd, but not have the fame Rcafon to accuie her of Difloyalty. Befides, how could her naming Claudio make the Prince and Claudio believe that She lov'd Borachio, as he defires Don John to infinuate to them that She did ? The Cir- cimihnces weighed, there is no Doubt but the Paflage ought to be re- formM, as I have fettled in the Text. — hear me call Margaret, Hero; hear Margaret term wBorachio. I made this Correction in my Shakespeare record, and Mr. Pope ha; thought fit tacitly to embrace it in his laft Edition. John Much Ado about Nothing. 429 Bora. Be thou conftant in the accufation, and my cunning fhall not fliame me. John. 1 will prefently go learn their day of marriage. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to LconatoV Orchard. Enter Benedick, and a Boy. Bene. T>OYj J3 Boy. Signior, Bene. In my chamber window lies a book, bring ic hither to me in the orchard. Boy. I am here already, Sir. [Exit Boy. Bene. I know that, but 1 would have thee hence, and here again. — I do much wonder, that one man, feeing how much another man is a fool, when he de- dicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laught at fuch {hallow follies in others, become the argument of his own fcorn, by falling in love! and fuch a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no mufick with him but the drum and the fife* and now had he rather hear the taber and the pipe* I have known, when he would have walk'd ten mile a-foot, to fee a good armour > and now will he lye ten nights awake, carving the fafhion of a new doublet. He was wont to fpeak plain, and to the purpofe, like an honeft man and a foldier$ and now is he turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantaftical banquet, juft fo many ftrange difhes. May I be fo converted, and fee with thefe eyes ? I cannot tell 5 I think not. I will not be fworn, but love may transform me to an oyfterj but I'll take my oath on it, 'till he have made an oyfter of me, he mall never make me fuch a fool : one wo- man is fair, yet I am well 5 another is wife, yet I am well 5 another virtuous, yet I am well. But 'till all graces be in one woman, one woman mall not come in my grace. Rich ilie mall be, that's certain -, (10) " wife, u or (10) * Wife, or Til none', 'virtuous, or T II never cheapen her ; fair y " or Til never look on her ;] Thefe Words, fays Mr. Pope, added out •f the Edition of 1623. — - But they are likewife, before that, in the Quarto of 1600. They are alio in the fecond and third Impreflions in F$li8 430 Much Ado about Nothing. *c or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never cheapen her: " fair, or I'll never look on her "$ mild, or come not near me j noble, or not I for an angel j of good dif- courfe, an excellent mufician, and her hair fhall be of what colour it pleafe God. Ha ! the Prince and Mon- fieur Love ! I will hide me in the arbour. {Withdraws. Enter Bon Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. . Pedro. Come, fiiall we hear this mufick? Claud. Yea, my good lord > how ftill the even* ing is, As hufh'd on purpofe to grace harmony ! Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himfelf? Claud. O very well, my lord \ the mufick ended, We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth. Pedro. Come, Balthazar^ we'll hear that fong again. Balth. O good my lord, tax not fo bad a voice To flander mufick any more than once. Pedro. It is the witnefs ftill of excellency, To put a ftrange face on his own perfections I pray thee, fingj and let me woo no more. Balth. Beeaufe you talk of wooing, I will fing ; Since many a wooer doth commence his fuit To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes 5 Yet will he fwear, he loves. Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come 5 Or if thou wilt hold longer argument, Do it in notes. Balth. Note this before my notes, There's not a note of mine, that's worth the noting. Pedro.. WhYj thefe are very crotchets that he fpeaks, Note, notes, forfooth, and noting. Bene. Now, divine air* now is his foul ravifh'd ! is it not ftrange, that ilieeps guts fhould hale fouls out Folio ; and in the two Editions by Mr. Howe. Where is it they are not then, that they are thus faid to be added by this wonderful Col- lator ? They happen to be extant in the very firft Edition, that we know of; they keep their place in an Edition publifrTd 23 Years after that ; and therefore, Mr. Pope fays, they are added from this fubfecjuent Edition, P Much Ado about Nothing, 431 of mens bodies ? well, a horn for my money, when all's done. The SONG. Sigh no more,) ladies^ figb no more^ Men were deceivers ever > One foot in fea^ and one on Jbore^ To one thing conftant never : Then Jigh not jfb9 but let them go^ And be you blith and bonny , Converting all your founds of woe Into hey nonyy nony. Sing no more ditties^ fing no mo9 Of dumps fo dull and heavy % The frauds of men were ever fo9 Since fummer was firfi leafy : Then Jigh not fo^ &c. Pedro* By my troth, a good fong. Batch. And an ill finger, my lord. Pedro. Ha, no $ no, faith 5 thou fing'ft well enough for a lhift. Bene. If he had been a dog, that fhould have howPd thus, they would have hang'd him > and, I pray God, his bad voice bode no mifchief : I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. Pedro. Yea, marry, doft thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us fome excellent mufick -, for to morrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamber- window. Balth. The beft I can, my lord. [Exit Balthazar. Pedro. Do fo : farewel. Come hither, Leonato ; what was it you told me of to day, that your Neice Bea- trice was in love with Signior Benedick ? Claud. O, ay 5 — • ftalk on, ftalk on, the fowl fits. I did nevgr think, that lady would have loved any man. Leon. 43* Much Ado about Nothing. Leon. No, nor I neither 5 but moft wonderful, that fhe ihould fo doat on Signior Benedick^ whom fhe hath in all outward behaviours feem'd ever to abhor. Bene. Is't poffible, fits the wind in that corner ? \_Afide. Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell what to think of it ; but that lhe loves him with an inraged af- feftion, it is pail the infinite of thought. Pedro. May be, fhe doth but counterfeit. Claud. Faith, like enough'. Leon. O God ! counterfeit ? there was never coun- terfeit of paflion came fo near the life of paflion, as fhe difcovers it. Pedro. Why, what effe£b of paflion mews fhe? Claud. Bait the hook well, this fifh will bite. {Afide. Leon. What effe&s, my lord? fhe will fit you, you heard my daughter tell you how. Claud. She did, indeed. Pedro. How, how, I pray you ? you amaze me : I would have thought, her fpirit had been invincible againft all aflaults of affe&ion. Leon. I would have fworn, it had, my lord 5 efpeci- ally againft Benedick. Bene. \_Afide7\ I fhould think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow fpeaks it 5 knavery cannot, fure, hide himfelf in fuch reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en th' infection, hold it up. [A fide. Pedro. Hath fhe made her affe&ion known to Be* nedick ? Leon. No, and fwears fhe never will; that's her tor- ment. Claud. 'Tis true, indeed, fo your daughter fays: {hall I, fays fhe, that have fo oft encounter'd him with fcorn, write to him that I love him ? Leon. This fays fhe now, when fhe is beginning to write to him ; for fhe'll be up twenty times a night, and there will lhe fit in her fmock, 'till fhe have writ a (heet of paper; my daughter tells us all. Claud. Now you talk of a fheet of paper, I remem- ber a pretty jefl: your daughter told us of. Leon. Much Ado about Nothing. 433 Leon. O, — when (he had writ it, and was reading it over, fhe found Benedick and Beatrice between the (heet. Claud. That. Leon. (11) 0,(he tore the letter into a thoufand half- pence 5 rail'd at her (elf, that fhe (hould be fo immo- deft, to write to one that, fhe knew, wou'd flout her: I meafure him, fays (he, by rriy own Spirit, for I (hould flout him if he writ to me j yea, though I love him, I (hould. Claud. Then down upon her knees (he falls, weeps, fobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curfes 5 O fweet Benedick I God give me patience! Leon* She doth, indeed, my daughter fays fo 5 and the ecftafiehath fo much overborn her, that my daugh- ter is fometime afraid, (he will do defperate outrage to her felf $ it is very true. Pedro. It were good, that Benedick knew of it by fome other, if (he will not difcover it. Claud. To what end ? he would but make a fport of it, and torment the poor lady worfe. Pedro. If he (hould, it were an Alms to hang himj (he's an excellent fweet lady, and (out of all fufpicion) (he is virtuous. Claud. And (he is exceeding wife. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. Leon. O my lord, wifdom and blood combating in fo tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory $ I am forry for her, as I have juft caufe, being her uncle and her guardian. Pedro. I would, (he had beftow'd this dotage onmej I would have dafft all other refpects, and made her half (u) O^Jhe tore the Letter into a thoufand half-pence;] i. e. into a thoufand pieces of the fame -bignefs. This is farther explained by a Paf- iuge in As you Like it ; — There were none principal; they were all like one another us half-pence are. In both places the Poet alludes to the old Silver Penny which had a Creafe running Crofs-zvife over it, fo that it might be broke into two or four equal pieces, halfpence, or farthings, Vol. I. F f . half Jf34 Much Ado ^/Nothing. half my felf •, I pray you, tell Benedick of it 5 and hear what he will fay. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero thinks, furely fhe will die> for fhe fays, fhe will die if he love her not, and fhe will die ere fhe make her love known 5 and fhe will die if he woo her, rather than fhe will bate one breath of her accuftom'd crofsnefs. Pedro. She doth well -> if fhe fhould make tender of her love, 'tis very poffibie, he'll fcorn it > for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible fpirit. Claud. He is a very proper man. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happinefs. Claud. 'Fore God, and, in my mind, very wife. Pedro. He doth, indeed, fhew fome fparks that are like wit. Leon. And I take him to be valiant. Pedro. As Heclor^ I aflure you j, and in the managing of quarrels you may fay he is wife j for either he avoids them with great difcretion, or undertakes them with a chriftian-like fear. Leon. If he do fear God, he muft necefTarily keep peace 5 if he break the peace, he ought to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. Pedro. And fo will he do, for the man doth fear God,howfoever it feems not in him, by fome large jefts he will make. Well, I am forry for your Neice : fhall we go feek Benedick^ and tell him of her love ? Claud. Never tell him, my lord > let her wear it out with good counfel. Leon. Nay, that's impoflible, fhe may wear her heart out fir ft. Pedro.. Well, we will hear further of it by your daughter > let it cool the while. I love Benedick well-, -and I could wifh he would modeftly examine himfelf, to fee how much he is unworthy to have fo good a Lciy. Leon. My Lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never truft my expectation. rj/ide. Pedro. Much Ado about Nothing. 455 Pedro. Let there be the fame net fpread for her, and hat mufb your daughter and her gentlewomen carry ', he fport will be, when they hold an opinion of one mother's dotage, and no fuch matter ; that's the Scene hat I would fee, which will be meerly a Dumb Show j et us fend her to call him to dinner. {_Jfide7\ {Exeunt. Benedick advances from the Arbour, Bene. This can be no trick, the conference was fad- y born 5 they have the truth of this from Hero; they eem to pity the ladyj it feems, her affections have :he full bent. Love me ! why, it muft be requited : t hear, how I am cenfur'd > they fay, I will bear my felf proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; :hey fay too, that fhe will rather die than give any (Ign of affection.- —I did never think to marry — • [ muft not feem proud — happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending : they ray, the lady is fair % 'tis a truth, I can bear, them wit- nefs : and virtuous j — 'tis fo, I cannot reprove it: and wife, but for loving me by my troth, it is no addition to her wit, nor no great argument of her folly •■, for I will be horribly in love with her. 1 may chance to have fome odd quirks and remnants o£ wit broken on me, becaufe I have rail'd fo long againil marriage j but doth not the appetite alter? a man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age. Shall quipps and fentences, and thefe paper- bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour ? no : the world mufl be peopled. When I faid, I would die a batchelor, I did not think I mould live 'till I were marry 'd. Here comes Beatrice: by this day, fhe^s a fair lady 3 I do fpy fome marks of love in her. Enter Beatrice. Beat. Againft my will, I am fent to bid you come in to dinner. Btm*. Fair Beatrhey I thank you for your pains. Ff; Beat. 4}6 Much Ado about Nothing. Beat. I took no more pains for thofe thanks, than you take pains to thank me > if it had been painful, I would not have come. Bene. You take pleafure then in the meflage. Beat. Yea, juil fo much as you may take upon a knife's point,, and choak a daw withal: you have no ftomach, Signior 3 fare you well. [Exit. Bene. Ha ! againft my will I am fent to bid you come in to dinner: — there's a double meaning in that. / took no more pains for thofe thanks, than you took pains to thank me j that's as much as to fay, any pains that I take for you is as eafie as thanks, if I do not take pity of her, I am a villain -, if I do not love her, I am a. Jew, I will go get her Picture. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE continues in the Orchard. Enter Hero, Margaret and Urfula. Hero. GOOD Margaret) run thee into the parlour, There {halt thou find my Coufin Beatrice^ Propofing with the Prince and Claudio 3 Whifper her car, and tell her, I and Urfula Walk in the orchard, and our whole difcourfc Is all of her j fay, that thou overheard'lt us; And bid her (teal into the pleached Bovver, Where honey-fuckles, ripen'd by the Sun, r 01 bid the Sun to enter > like toFavountej^ IV^aaj^ro^cTb^^ Againlfc that power that bred k : tfie7e~TvTilfhe hide her, To liiten our Propofe \ this 7T"thy office, Bear thee well in it, and leave us alone. Man. Much Ado about Nothing. 437 Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant, prefently. [Exit. Hero. Now, Urfula, when Beatrice doth come, As we do trace this alley up and down, Our Talk muft only be of Benedick; When I do name him, let it be thy Part To praife him more than ever man did merit.' My Talk to thee muft be how Benedick Is fick in love with Beatrice y of this matter Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hear-fay : now begin. Enter Beatrice, running towards the jdrbour. For look, where Beatrice^ like a lapwing, runs Clofe by the ground to hear our conference. Urfu. The pleafant'ft angling is to fee the fiih Cut with her golden oars the filver ftream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait $ So angle we for Beatrice , who e'en now Is couched in the woodbine-coverture ; Fear you not my part of the dialogue. Hero. Then go we near her, that her ear lofe nothing Of the falfe fweet bait that we lay for it. - No, truly, Urfula^ fhe's too difdainful ; I know, her fpirits are as coy and wild, As haggerds of the rock. Urfu. But are you fure, f That Benedick loves Beatrice fo intirely? Hero. So fays the Prince, and my new-trothed lord. Urfu. And did they bid you tell her of it, Madam? Hero. They did intreat me to acquaint her of it 5 But I perfuaded them, if they lov'd Benedickr To with him wraftle with affe&ion, And never to let Beatrice know of it. Urfu. Why did you fo ? doth not tho Gentleman Deferve as full, as fortunate a bed, As ever Beatrice {hall couch upon ? Hero. O God of love ! I know, he doth deferve As much as may be yielded to a man : But Nature never fram'd a woman's heart; Of prouder fuifFthan that of Beatrice \ FT 3 Difdata 4?8 MuchAdo about Nothing, Difdain and Scorn ride fparkling in her eyes, Mil-prizing what they look on j and her wit Values it fclf fo highly, that to her All matter elfe feems weak* fhe cannot love, Nor take no fhape nor project of affe&ion, She is to felf-indeared. Urfu. Sure, I think fo ; And therefore certainly it were not good She knew his love, left fhe make fport at it. Hero. Why, you fpeak truth. I never yet faw man, How wife, how noble, young, how rarely featur'd, But fhe would fpell him backward^ if fair-fac'd, (iz) She'd fwear, the gentleman fhould be her fifter ; If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antick, Made afoul blots if tall, a launce ill-headecjs If low, an Aglet very vilely cut s (i j) If { 1 2) , . if fairfacd, She d fwear, the Gentleman Jhould be her Sifter ; If black, why Nature drawing of an Antick, Made a foul Blot; if tall, a Lance ill headed; &c. Some of the Editors have pretended, that our Author never imitatesany PatTages of the Antients. Methinks, this is fo very like a remarkable Defcriprion in Lucretius-, (lib. iv. verf. 11 54, %c.) that I can't help fufpecling, Shakefpeare had it in View; the only Difference feems to be, that the Latine Poet's Charadleriltics turn upon Praife ; our Country-^ man's, upon the Hinge of Derogation. Nigra, \J.iKi-xj&%- eft; immunda & fztida, ako^[aQ-' Cafia, vakKcLS'iob' ner he hath a heart as found as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper j for what his heart thinks, his tongue fpeaks. ' Bene. Gallants, I am not as I have been. Leon. So fay I ; methinks, you are fadder. Claud. I hope, he is in love. Pedro. Hang him, truant, there's no true drop of blood in him, to be truly touch'd with love 5 if he be fad, he wants mony. Bene. I have the tooth-ach. Pedro. Draw it. Bene. Hang ic. Claud. Youmuft hang it firft, and draw it afterwards. Pedro. What? figh for the tooth-ach! Leon. Which is but a humour, or a worm. Bene. Well, every one can matter a grief but he. that has it. Claud. Yet fay I, he is in love. Pedro. There is no appearance of fancy in him, unlefs it be a fancy that he hath to ftrange difguifes, as to be a Dutch man to day, a French man to mor- row -, or in the fliape of two countries at once, a German from the wafte downward, all flops, and a Spaniard from the hip upward, no doublet : Unlefs he have a fancy to this foolery, as it appears he hath, he is no fool for fancy, as you would have it to ap- pear he is. Claud. If he be not in love with fome woman, there is no believing old figns 3 he brufhes his hat o'morn- ings j what fhould that bode? Pedro. Hath any man feen him at the barber's ? Claud. No, but the barber's man hath been feen with him \ and the old ornament of his cheek hath al- ready ftuft tennis-balls. Leon. Indeed, he looks younger than he did by the lofs of a beard. Pedro. Nay, he rubs himfelf with civet; canyoufmeli him out by that ? Claud. That's as much as to fay, the fweet youth's '~ We, Pedro. 441 Much Ado about Nothing. Pedro, The greatefl note of it is his melancholy. Claud. And when was he wont to wafli his face ? Pedro. Yea, or to paint himfelf? for the which, I hear what they fay of him. Claud. Nay, but his jefting fpirit, which is now crept into a lute- firing and now govern'd by flops — Pedro. Indeed, that tells a heavy tale for him. Con- clude, he is in love. Claud. Nay, but I know who loves him. Pedro. That would I know too : I warrant, one that Iqiows him not. Claud. Yes, and his ill conditions, and in defpight of all, dies for him. Pedro. She (hall be bury'd with her heels upwards. (14) Bene. Yet is this no charm for the tooth-ach. Old Signior, walk afide with me, I have fludy'd eight or nine wife words to fpeak to you which thefe hobby- horfes mufl not hear. \Exeunt Benedick and Leonato. Pedro. For my life, to break with him about Beatrice. Claud. 'Tis even fo. Hero and Margaret have by this play'd their parts with Beatrice y and then the two bears will not bite one another, when they meet. (14) Shejhall be buried with her Face upwards.] Thus the whole Set of Editions : But what is there any ways particular in This ? Are' not all Men and Women buried fo ? Sure, the Poet means, in Oppofi- tion to the general Rule, and by way of Diftin&ion, with her heels up- wards, or face downwards. I have chofe the firft Reading, becaufe I find it the Expreffion in Vogue in our Author's time. So, Beaumont and Fletcher in their Wild-Goofi Chafe. Whilft I have Meat and Drink, Love cannot fiarwe me i For if I dye o'tV firft Fit, Fm unhappy ; And worthy to be buried with my heels upwards. And in The Woman* Prize \ or, The Tamer tairid: ., —1 Seme Few, For thefe are rarcft, they are J aid to kill With Kindnefs and fair Ufage ; but what they are> My Catalogue difcovcrs not ; only 'tis thought, They're buried in old Walls with their Heels upward. And again, in The Coxcomb ; Judge me, I do but jeft with thee : What, an She were inverted with her Heels upward, like a Traytors Coat ? &nter Much Ado about Nothing. 443 Enter Don John. John. My Lord and brother, God fave you. Pedro. Good den, brother. John. If your leifure ferv'd, I would fpeak with you. Pedro. In private ? John. If it pleafe you ; yet Count Claudio may hearj for, what I would fpeak of, concerns him. Pedro. What's the matter? John. Means your lordfhip to be marry'd to mor- row ? [7*o Claudio. Pedro. You know, he does. John. I know not that, when he knows what I know. Claud. If there be any impediment, I pray you, dis- cover it. John. You may think, I love you not, let that ap- pear hereafter ; and aim better at me by That I now will manifeftj for my brother, I think, he holds yog. well, and in dearnefs of heart hath holp to effeft your enfuing marriage 5 furely, Suit ill fpent, and Labour \\\ beftow'd ! Pedro, Why, what's the matter ? John. I came hither to tell you, and circumftances fhorten'd, (for ihe hath been too long a talking of) the Lady is difloyal. Claud. Who? Hero? John. Even fhe, Leonato's Hero, your Hero, every, man's Hero. Claud. Difloyal ? John. The word is too good to paint out her wick- ed nefs j I could fay, flie were worie 5 think you of a, worfe title, and I will fit her to it * wonder not 'till further warrant 5 go but with me to night, you mall fee her chamber-window enter'd, even the night be- fore her wedding day \ if you love her, then to mor- row wed her j but it would better fit your honour to change your mind. Claud. May this be fo? Pedro, I will not think it. — — * John, 444 Much Ado about Nothing." John. If you dare not truft that you fee, confefs not that you know > if you will follow me, I will mew you enough j and when you have feen more and heard more,' proceed accordingly. Claud. If I fee any thing to night why I fliould not marry her to morrow -, in the Congregation, where I mould wed, there will I fhame her. Pedro. And as I wooed for thee to obtain her, I will join with thee to difgrace her. John. I will difparage her no farther, 'till you are my witnefles $ bear it coldly but 'till night, and let the iffue fhew it fclfi Pedro. O day untowardly turned ! Claud. O mifchief flrangely thwarting ! John. O plague right well prevented ! So will you fay, when you have feen the fequel. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Street. Enter Dogberry and Verges, with the Watch. Dogb. ARE you good men and true ? l\ Verg. Yea, or elfe it were pity but they fhould fuffer falvation, body and foul. Dogb. Nay, that were a punifhment too good for them, if they mould have any allegiance in them, be- ing chofen for the Prince's Watch. Ferg. Well, give them their charge, neighbour Dog- berry. Dogb. Firft, who think you the raoft defartlefs man to be conftable? 1 Watch. Hugh Oatecakey Sir, or George Seacolc; for thev can write and read. Dogb. Come hither, neighbour Seacole : God hath blcft you with a good name 5 and to be a well-favour'd man is the gift of fortune, but to write and read comes by nature. z Ii'citch. Both which, mafter conftable — - Dogb. You have: I knew, it would be your anfwer. Wc % for your Favour Sir, why, giye God thanks, an4 Much Ado about Nothing. 44 j and make no boaft of it* and for your writing and reading, let that appear when there is no need of fuch vanity : you are thought here to be the moft fenfeleis and fit man for the Conftable of the Watch, therefore bear you the lanthorn j this is your charge : you fhall comprehend all vagrom men 3 you are to bid any man Hand in the Prince's name. 2 Watch. How if he will not ftand ? Dogb. Why, then take no note of him, but let him go > and prefently call the reft of the Watch together, and thank God you are rid of a knave. Verg. If he will not ftand when he is bidden, he is none of the Prince's Subjects. Dogb. True, and they are to meddle with none but the Prince's Subjects : you fhall alfo make no noife in the ftreetsj for, for the Watch to babble and talk, if moft tolerable, and not to be endur'd. 2 Watch. We will rather fleep, than talk \ we know what belongs to a Watch. Dogb. Why, you fpeak like an ancient and moft quiet watchman, for I cannot fee how Sleeping mould offend $ only have a care that your Bills be not ftolen: well, you are to call at all the ale-houfes, and bid them that are drunk get them to bed. 2 Watch. How if they will not ? Dogb. Why, then let them alone 'till they arc fober * if they make you not then the better anfwer, you may- lay, they are not the men you took them for. 2 Watch. Well, Sir. Dogb. If you meet a thief, you may fufpect him by vertue of your office to be no true man; and for fuch kind of men, the lefs you meddle or make with them, why, the more is for your honefty. 2 Watch. If we know him to be a thieT, fhall we not lay hands on him ? Dogb. Truly, by your office you may 5 but; I think, they that touch pitch will be defil'd : the moft peace- able way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him fhew himfelf what he is, and fteal out of your company. ? 44^ Muck Ad o about Nothing. Verg. You have been always call'd a merciful man> Partner. Dogb. Truly, I would not bang a dog by my will* much more a man who hath any honefty in him. Verg. If you hear a child cry in the night, you muffc call to the nurfe and bid her ftill it. i Watch. How if the nurfe be afleep, and will not hear us? Dogb. Why, then depart in peace, and let the child wake her with crying : for the ewe that will not hear her lamb when it baes, will never anfwer a calf when he bleats. Verg. 'Tis very true. Dogb. This is the end of the charge: you, confta- ble, are to prefent the Prince's own perfon ; if you meet the Prince in the night, you may ftay him. Verg. Nay, birlady, that, 1 think, he cannot. Dogb. Five fhillings to one on't with any man that knows the Statues, he may ftay him ; marry, not with- out the Prince be willing: for, indeed, the Watch ought to offend no man; and it is an offence to ftay a man againft his will. Verg. Birlady, I think, it be fo. Dogb. Ha, ha, ha! well, mailers, good night; an there be any matter of weight chances, call up me* keep your fellow's counfels and your own, and good night j come, neighbour. z Watch. Well, mafters, we hear our charge; let us go fit here upon the church-bench 'till two, and then all to bed. Dogb. One word more, honeft neighbours. I pray you, watch about Signior Lconato's door, for the Wed- ding being there to morrow, there is a great coil to night; adieu-, be vigilant, I befeech you. [_Exeunt Dogberry and Verges. Enter Borachio and Conrade. Bora. What? Conrade,—* Watch. Peace, ftir not. [Jfide. Bora, Conradc, 1 lay. Cotir. Mu c hAdo about Nothing. 447 Conr. Here, man, I am at thy elbow. Bora. Mafs, and my elbow itch'd, I thought there would a fcab follow. Conr. I will owe thee an anfwer for that, and now forward with thy tale. Bora. Stand thee clofe then under this pent-houfe, for it drizzles rain, and I will, like a true drunkard, utter all to thee. Watch. Some treafon, matters j yet ftand clofc. Bora. Therefore know, I have earned of Eton John a thoufand ducats. Conr. Is it poflible that any villany fhould be fo dear? Bora. Thou fhould'fl rather ask, if it were poflible any villany fhould be fo rich? for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will. Conr. I wonder at it. Bora. That fhews, thou art unconfirm'd; thou know- eft, that the fafhion of a doublet, or a hat, or a cloak is nothing to a man. Conr. Yes, it is apparel. Bora. I mean, the fafhion. Conr. Yes, the fafhion is the fafhion. Bora. Turn, I may as well fay, the fool's the foolj but feeft thou not, what a deformed thief this fafhion is? Watch. I know that Deformed^ he has been a vile thief this feven years j he goes up and down like a gentleman : I remember his name. Bora. Didft thou not hear fome body ? Com. No, 'twas the vane on the houfe. Bora. Seen: thou not, I fay, what a deformed thief this fafhion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot- bloods between fourteen and five and thirty 5 fome- times fafhioning them like Pharaoh foldiers in the reachy painting; fometimes, like the God BeVs priefts in the old church-window, fometimes, like the fhaven Hercules in the fmirch'd worm-eaten tapeflry, where his codpiece feems as maffie as his club. Conr. 448 Much Ado about Not hing, Cony. All this I fee, and fee, that the fafhion wears out more apparel than the man> but art not thou thy fclf giddy with the fafhion too, that thou haft fhifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fafhion ? Bora. Not fo neither j but know, that I have to night wooed Margiiret^ the lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the name of Hero-y fhe leans me out at her mi- itreis's chamber- window, bids me a thoufand times^ good night — I tell this tale vildly — 1 fhould firft tell thee, how the Prince, Claudio, and my mafter, planted and placed, and pofTefTed by my mafter Don Job*) law a far off in the orchard this amiable en- counter. Conr. And thought they, Margaret was Hero? Bora. Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio% but the devil my mafter knew, fhe was Margaret -, and partly by his oaths, which firft pofteft them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any flander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged 5 fwore, he would meet her as he was appointed next morn- ing at the Temple, and there before the whole Congre- gation fhame her with what he faw o'er night, and fend her home again without a husband. 1 Watch. We charge you in the Prince's name, (land. 2. Watch, Call up the right mafter conftable; we have here recovered the moft dangerous piece of lechery that ever was known in the common-wealth. 1 Watch. And one Deformed is one of them \ I know him, he wears a lock. Conr. Mafters, matters, — (if) (is) Conr. Ma/ins, Mafters, 2 Watch. You'll be made bring Deformed forth, I warrant you. Conr. Jilaflers, never /peak, we charge you, let us obey you to go with us.] The different Regulation which I have made in this lait Speech, tho' again ft the Authority of all the printed Copies, I flatter my felfj carries its Proof with it. Conrade and Boracbio are not defignM to talk abfurd Nonfenfe; that is the diftinguifriing Chara cloth of gold and cuts, and lac'd with fii- ver, fet with pearls down-fleeves, fide-fleeves and skirts, round, underborn with a blueiih tinfelj but for a fine, queint, graceful and excellent fafhion, yours is worth ten on't Hero. God give me joy to wear it, for my heart is exceeding heavy ! Marg. 'Twill be heavier foon by the weight of a man. Vol. I. G g Hero. 45 o Much Ado ^Nothing, Hero, Fie upon thee, art not afham'd? Marg. Of what, lady ? of fpeaking honourably ? is not marriage honourable in a beggar? is not your lord honourable without marriage? 1 think, you would have me fay (faving your reverence) a husband. If bad thinking do not wreft true fpeaking, I'll offend -4- no body $ is there any harm in the heavier for a huf- band ? none, I think, if it be the right husband, and the right wife, otherwife 'tis light and not heavy > ask my lady Beatrice elfe, here flie comes. Enter Beatrice. Here. Good morrow, coz. Beat. Good morrow, fweet Hero. Hero. Why how now ? do you fpeak in the fick tune? Beat. I am out of all other tune, methinks. Marg, Clap us into Light o' love ; that goes without a burden -, do you fing it, and I'll dance it. Beat. Yes, Light 0' love with your heels ; then if your husband have ftables enough/ you'll look he fhall lack no barns. Marg. O illegitimate conftru&ion ! I fcorn that with my heels. Beat. 'Tis almoft five o'clock, coufin; 'tis time you were ready : by my troth, I am exceeding ill •, hey ho ! Marg. For a hawk, a horfe, or a husband ? Beat. For the letter that begins them all, H. Marg. Well, if you be not turn'd ?urk, there's no more failing by the flar. Beat. What means the fool, trow ? Marg. Nothing I, but God fend every one their heart's defire! Hero. Thefe gloves the Count fent me, they are an excellent perfume. Beat. I am ftuft, coufin, I cannot fmell. Mcrg. A maid, and ftuft ! there's goodly catching of COiv'.. Beat. O, God help me, God help me, how long have you profeft apprehenflon ? Marg. Ever fince you left it ^ doth not my wit be- come me rarely ? ^eat- Much Ado about Nothing. 45 1 Beat. It is not feen enough, you fliould wear it in your cap. By my troth, I am fick. Marg. Get you fome of this diftilPd Garduus, Bene" difius, and lay it to your heart 5 it is the only thing for a qualm. Hero, There thou prick'ft her with a thiftle. Beat. Eenediclus? why BenediUus? you have fome moral in this Benedi&us. Marg. Moral? no, by my troth, I have no moral meaning, I meant plain holy-thiftle : you may think; perchance, that I think you are in love 5 nay, birlady, I am not fuch a fool to think what I lift* nor I lift not to think what I can l, nor, indeed, I cannot think, if I would think my heart out with thinking, that you are in love, or that you will be in love, or that you can be in love : yet Benedick was fuch another, and now is he become a man ; he fwore, he would never niarryj and yet now, in defpight of his heart, he eats his meat without grudging j and how you may be con- verted, I know not 5 bur, methinks, you look with your eyes as other women do. Beat. What pace is this that thy tongue keeps? Marg. Not a falfe gallop. Urfu. Madam, withdraw 5 the Prince, the Count, Signior Benedick^ Don John9 and all the Gallants of the town are come to fetch you to church. Hero. Help to drefs me, good coz, good Meg9 good Vrfula. ^Exeunt. SCENE, another Apartment in LeonatoV Houfe. Enter Leonato, with Dogberry and Verges. Leon.XT 7 HAT would you with me, honefl neigh- VV bour ? Dogb. Marry, Sir, I would have fome confidence with you that decerns you nearly. Leon, Brief, I pray you s for, you fee, 'tis a bufy time With me> 0 g z Degk* 4S2* Much Ado about Nothing. Dogb. Marry, this it is, Sir. Ver. Yes, in truth it is, Sir. Leon. What is it, my good friends ? Dogb. Goodman Verges^ Sir, fpeaks a little of the matter , an old man, Sir, and his wits are not fo blunt, as, God help, I would defire they were, but, in faith, as honed as the skin between his brows. Verg. Yes, I thank God, I am as honeft as any man living, that is an old man, and no honefter than I. Dogb. Comparifons are odorous 5 palabras^ neighbour Verges. Leon. Neighbours, you are tedious. Dogb. It pleafes your worfhip to fay fo, but we are the poor Duke's officers 5 but, truly, for mine own part, if I were as tedious as a King, I could find in my heart to befiow it all of your worfhip. Leon. All thy tedioufnefs on me, ha? Dogb. Yea, and 'twere a thoufand times more than 'tis, for I hear as good exclamation on your worfhip sfs of any man in the city ; and tho' I be but a poor man, I am glad to hear it. Verg. And fo am I. Leon. I would fain know wriat you have to fay. Verg. Marry, Sir, our Watch- to night, excepting ycur worihip's prefence, hath ta'en a couple of as ar- rant knaves as any in MeJJimi. Dogb. A good old man, Sir 5 he will be talking, as they fay ; when the age is in, the wit is out 5 God help us, it is a world to fee : well faid, i'faith, neighbour Verges, well, he's a good man; an two men ride an horfe, one muft ride behind; an honeft foul, i'faith, Sir, by my troth he is, as ever broke bread, but God is to be worfhip'd 5 all men are not alike^ alas, good neighbour ! Leon. Indeed, neighbour, he comes too fhort of you. Dogb. Gifts, that God gives. Lecn. I mull leave you. Dogb. One word, Sir; our Watch have, indeed, com- prehended two aufpicions perfons; and we would have them this morning examin'd before your woiihip. Leon. Much Ado about Nothing, 47$ Leon, Take their examination your felf, and bring it me* I am now in great hafte, as may appear unto you. Dogb. It mall be fuffigance. Leon, Drink fome wine ere you go : fare you well. Enter a Mejfenger. Mejf. My lord, they ftay for you to give your daugh- ter to her husband. Leon. I'll wait upon them. I am ready. {Ex. Leon. Dogb. Go, good Partner, go get you to Francis Sea- coale^ bid him bring his pen and inkhorn to the jail j we are now to examine thofe men. Verg. And we muft do it wifely. Dogb. We will fpare for no wit, I warrant \ here's That mall drive fome of them to a non-come. Only get the learned writer to fet down our excommunication, and meet me at the Jail. {Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE, a Church. Enter T>. Pedro, T>. John, Leonato, Friar, Claudio, Benedick, Hero, and Beatrice. Leonato. COME, friar Francis^ be brief, only to the plain form of marriage, and you (hall recount their particular duties afterwards. Friar. You come hither, my Lord, to marry this lady? Claud. No. Leon. To be marry'd to her, friar; you come to marry her. G g 5 Friar* 454 Much Ado about Nothing. Friar. Lady, you come hither to be marry'd to this Count ? Hero. I do. Friar. If either of you know any inward impediment why you fliould not be conjoin'd, I charge you on your fouls to utter it. Claud. Know you any, Hero ? Hero. None, my Lord. Friar. Know you any. Count? Leon. I dare make his anfwer, none. Claud. O what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do! not knowing what they do! Bene. How now ! Interjedtions? why, then fome be of laughing, as ha, ha, he! Claud. Stand thee by, friar: father, by your leave; Will you with free and uncon drained foul Give me this maid your daughter? Leon. As freely, (on, as God did give her me. Claud. And what have I to give you back, whofe worth May counterpoife this rich and precious gift? Pedro. Nothing, unlefs you render her again. Claud. Sweet Prince, you learn me noble thankful1? nefs : There, Leonato^ take her back again 5 Give not this rotten orange to your friend. She's but the fign and femblance of her honour: Behold, how like a maid fhe blufhes here! O, what authority and fhew of truth Can cunning fin cover it felf withal! Comes not that blood, as mpdeft evidence, To vvitnefs fimple virtue? would you not fwear, All you that fee her, that fhe were a maid, Bv thefe exterior fhews ? but the is none : She knows the heat of a luxurious bed , Her blufh is guiltinefs, not modelty. Leon. V> hat do you mean, my Lord? Claud. Not to be marry'd, Not knit my foul to an approved Wanton. Lwh Much Ado about Nothing. 455 Leon. Dear my Lord, if you in your own approof (16) Have vanquifh'd the refiftance of her youth, And made defeat of her virginity — ■ — - Claud. I know what you would fay : if I have known her, You'll fay, fhe did embrace me as a husband, And fo extenuate the forehand fin. No, LeonatOj I never tempted her with word too large j But, as a brother to his fifter, fhew'd Bafhful fincerity, and comely love. Hero. And feem'd I ever otherwife to you? Claud. Out on thy Seeming! I will write againft it j You feem to me as Dian in her orb, As chafte as is the bud ere it be blown : But you are more intemperate in your blood Than Venus^ or thofe pamper'd animals That rage in favage fenfuality. Hero. Is my Lord well, that he doth fpeak fo wide ? Leon. Sweet Prince, why fpeak not you? Pedro. What ihould I fpeak ? I ftand difhonour'd, that have gone about To link my dear friend to a common Stale. Leon. Are thefe things fpoken, or do I but dream ? John. Sir, they are fpoken, and thefe things are true. Bene. This looks not like a Nuptial. Hero. True! O God! Claud. Leonato, ftand I here ? Is this the Prince? Is this the Prince's Brother? Is this face Hero's? are our eyes our own? (16) Dear my Lord, if you in your own Proof,] I am furpriz'd, the Poetical Editors did not obferve the Lamenefs of this Verfe. It evi- dently wants a Syllable in the laft Foot, which I have reftor'd by a Word, which, I prefume, the firft Editors might hefitate at ; tho' it is r very proper one, and a Word elfewhere uled by our Author. Anth. and Chop. « ■ ' ■ " Sifler, prove fuch a Wife As my Thoughts make thee, and my farthtft Bond Shall fafs on thy Approof. Eefides, in the PalTage under Examination, this Word comes in almoil nece[.arily, as Claudia had faid in the Line immediately preceding; Not knit my Soul to an approved Wanton.. G g 4 Leork, 45 ^ Much Ado about Nothing. Leon. All this is foj but what of this, my lord? Claud. Let me but move one queftion to your daughter, And by that fatherly and kindly power That you have in her, bid her anfwer truly. Leon. I charge thee do fo, as thou art my child. Hero. O God defend me, how am I befet ! What kind of catechizing call you this? Claud. To make you anfwer truly to your name. Hero. Is it not Hero ? who can blot that name With any jufb reproach? Claud. Marry, that can Hero; Hero her felf can blot out Hero's virtue. What man was he talk'd with you yefternight Out at your window betwixt twelve and one ? Now, if you are a maid, anfwer to this. ■Hero. I talk'd with no man at that hour, my Lord, Pedro. Why, then you are no maiden, Leonato^ I am forry, you mull: hear> upon mine Honour, My felf, my Brother, and this grieved Count Did fee her, hear her, at that hour laft night Talk with a ruffian at her chamber- window » Who hath, indeed, moft like a liberal villain, ConfeiVd the vile encounters they have had A thoufand times in fecret. John. Fie, fie, they are not to be nam'd, my Lord, Not to be fpoken of 5 There is not chaftity enough in language, Without offence, to utter them: thus, pretty lady, I am forry for thy much mifgovernment. Claud. O Hero! what a Hero hadft thou been, If half thy outward graces had been plac'd About the thoughts and counfels of thy heart? Put fare thee well, moft foul, moft: fair! farewel, Thou pure impiety, and impious purity! For thee Til lock up all the gates of love, And on my eyelids mall Conjecture hang, To turn all beauty into thoughts of harm ; And never fhall it more be gracious. Leon. Hath no man's dagger here a point for me? Beat. Much Ado about Nothing. 457 Beat. Why, how now, Coufin, wherefore fink you down? John, Come, let us go ; thefe things come thus to light, Smother her fpirits up. \_Exe. D. Pedro, D. John and Claud, Bene. How doth the lady? Beat. Dead, I think $ help, uncle. Hero! why, Hero! uncle! Signior Benedick! friar! Leon. O fate ! take not away thy heavy hand ; Death is the faireft cover for her fhame, That may be wifh'd for. Beat. How now, coufin Hero ? Friar. Have comfort, Lady. Leon. Doft thou look up ? Friar. Yea, wherefore fliould ihe not ? Leon. Wherefore ? why, doth not every earthly thing Cry fhame upon her ? could ihe here deny The ftory that is printed in her blood ? Do not live, Hero^ do not ope thine eyes : For did I think, thou wouldft not quickly die, Thought I, thy fpirits were ftronger than thy fhames, My felf would on the rereward of reproaches Strike at thy life. Griev'd I, I had but one? Chid I for That at frugal nature's frame? I've one too much by thee. Why had I one? Why ever waft thou lovely in my eyes ? Why had I not, with charitable hand, Took up a beggar's iflue at my gates? Who fmeered thus, and mir'd with infamy, I might have faid, no part of it is mine 5 This fhame derives it felf from unknown loins : But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd, And mine that I was proud on, mine fo much, That I my felf was to my felf not mine, Valuing of herj why, me, — -O, ihe is falPn Into a pit of ink, that the wide fea Hath drops too few to wafh her clean again 5 And fait too little, which may feafon give To her foul tainted flefh ! Bene. 45 8 MuchAdo about Nothing. Bene. Sir, Sir, be patient 5 For my part, I am fo attir'd in wonder, I know not what to fay. Beat. O, on my foul, my coufin is bely'd. Bene. Lady, were you her bedfellow laft night? Beat. No, truly, not 5 altho' until laft night I have this twelvemonth been her bedfellow. Leon. Confirm'd, confirm'd! O, That is ftronger made, Which was before barr'd up with ribs of iron. Would the two Princes lie? and Claudio lie? Who lov'd her fo, that, fpeaking of her foulnefs, Wafh'd it with tears? hence from her, let her die. Friar. Hear me a little, For I have only been filent fo long, And given way unto this courfe of fortune, By noting of the lady. I have mark'd A thoufand bluihing apparitions To ftart into her face 5 a thoufand innocent fliames In angel whitenefs bear away thofe blufties ; And in her eye there hath appear'd a fire, To burn the errors that thefe Princes hold Againft her maiden truth. Call me a fool, Truft not my reading, nor my obfervations, Which with experimental feal doth warrant The tenour of my book 5 truft not my age, My reverence, calling, nor divinity, If this fweet lady lie not guiltlefs here, Under fome biting error. Leon. Friar, it cannot be* Thou feeft, that all the grace that me hath left, Is, that fhe will not add to her damnation A fin of perjury > fhe not denies it : Why feek'ft thou then to cover with excufe That, which appears in proper nakednefs? Friar. Lady, what man is he you are accus'd of? Hero. They know, that do accufe me 5 I know none: If I know more of any man alive, Than that which maiden modefty doth warrant, J^et all my fins lack mercy. Q my father. Prove MuchAdo about Nothing. 452 Prove you that any man with me convers'd At hours unmeet, or that I yelternight Maintain'd the change of words with any creature, Jlefufe me, hate me, torture me to death. Friar. There is fame flrange mifprifion in the Princes. Bene. Two of them have the very bent of honour^ And if their wifdoms be mif-led in this, The Practice of it lives in John the baftard, Whofe fpirits toil in frame of villanies. Leon. I know not : if they fpeak but truth of her, Thefe hands fhall tear her $ if they wrong her honour, The proudeft of them (hall well hear of it. Time hath not yet fo dry'd this blood of mine, Nor age fo eat up my invention, Nor fortune made fuch havock of my means, Nor my bad life reft me fo much of friends, But they mail find awak'd, in fuch a kind, Both flrength of limb, and policy of mind, Ability in means, and choice of friends, To quit me of them throughly. Friar. Paufe a while, And let my counfel fway you in this cafe. Your daughter here the Princes left for dead^ (17) Let her awhile be fecretly kept in, And publifh it, that ihe is dead, indeed : Maintain a mourning oftentation, And on your family's old Monument (17) Tour Daughter here the Princefs (left for dead)} But how comes Hero to flart up a Princefs here? We have no Intimation of her Father being a Prince ; and this is the firft and only Time that She is complimented with this Dignity. The Remotion of a fingle Letter, and of the Parenthefis, will bring her to her own Rank, and the Place to its true Meaning. Tour Daughter here the Princes left for dead; i, e. Don Pedro, Prince of Arragon ; and his Baftard Brother who is likewife callM a Prince. So in the other Paflages of this Play ; To burn the Error that thefe Princes hold Againft her Maiden Honour. And again, There is feme Jirange Mifprifion in thefe Princes. And again, I thank you, Princes, for my Daughter1 5 Death, Hang 460 Much Ado about Nothing. Hang mournful Epitaphs, and do all rites That appertain unto a burial. Leon. What fhall become of this ? what will this do ? Friar. Marry, this, well carry'd, fhall on her behalf Change flander to remorfe; that is fomegood: But not for that dream I on this ftrange courfe, But on this travel look for greater birth : She dying, as it muft be fo maintain'd, Upon the inftant that fhe was accus'd, Shall be lamented, pity'd, and excus'd, Of every hearer: for it fo falls out, That what we have we prize not to the worth, (18) Whiles we enjoy it •> but being lack'd and loft, Why, then we rack the value -, then we find The virtue that poffeflion would not fhew us Whilft ic was ours> fo will it fare with Claudio: When he fhall hear fhe dy'd upon his words, Th' idea of her Life fhall fweetly creep Into his ftudy of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparel'd in more precious habit ; More moving, delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and profpe£fc of his foul, Than when fhe liv'd indeed. Then fhall he mourn, If ever love had intereft in his liver, And wiih, he had not fo accufed her; No, though he thought his accufation true: Let this be fo, and doubt not, but fuccefs Will fafhion the event in better fhape Than I can lay it down in likelihood. But if all Aim but this be levelled falfe, The fuppofition of the lady's death (18) That, What we have, I con- fefs nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am forry for my coufin. Bene. By my fword, Beatrice, thou lov'ft me. Beat. Do not fwear by it, and eat it. Ben*. $ti Much Ado about Nothing. Bene. I will fwear by it that you love me 5 and I will make him eat it, that fays, I love not you. Beat. Will you not eat your word ? Bene. With no faUcfc that can be devis'd to it 5 I proteft, I love thee. Beat. Why then, God forgive me. Bene. What offence, fweet Beatrice ? Beat. You have ftay'd me in a happy hour 5 I was about to proteft, I lov'd you. Bene. And do it with all thy heart. Beat. I love you with fo much of my heart, that none is left to proteft. Bene. Come, bid me do any thing for thee. Beat. Kill Claudio. Bene. Ha! not for the wide world. Beat. You kill me to deny -, farewcl. Bene. Tarry, fweet Beatrice. Beat. I am gone, tho' I am here ; there is no We in you ; nay, I pray you, let me go. Bene. Beatrice,* Beat. In faith, I will go. Bene. We'll be friends firft. Beat. You dare eafier be friends with me, than fight with mine enemy. Bene. Is Claudio thine enemy ? Beat. Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath flander'd, fcorn'd, diihonour'd my kinfwo- man! O that I were a man! what bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then with publick accufation, uncover'd flander, unmitigated rancour— O God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Bene. Hear me, Beatrice. Beat. Talk with a man out at a window ? a proper faying! Bene. Nay, but Beatrice. Beat. Sweet Hero! fhe is wtong'd, fhe is flander'd^ fhe is undone. Bene. Beat ■ Beat. Much Ado about Nothing. 463 Beat. Princes and Counts! furely, a princely tefti- mony, a goodly count- comfeft, a iweet gallant, fure* ly ! O that I were a man for his fake ! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my fake ! but man- hood is melted into curtefies, valour into compliment* and men are only turn'd into tongue, and trim ones too 5 he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and fwears it : I cannot be a man with wifhing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving. Bene. Tarry good Beatrice ; by this hand, I love thee. Beat. Ufe it for my love fome other way than fwear* ing by it. Bene. Think you in your foul, the Count Claudio hath wrong'd Hero? Beat. Yea, as fure as I have a thought or a foul. Bene. Enough, I am engag'd, I will challenge him, I will kifs your hand, and fo leave you 5 by this hand, Claudio fhall render me a dear account -, as you hear of me, fo think of me 5 go comfort your coufin ; I muft fay, fhe is dead, and fo farewel. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to a Trlfon. Enter Dogberry, Verges, Borachio, Conrade, the Town-Clerk and Sexton in Gowns. To. C7.T S our whole diflembly appear'd? JL Dog. O, a ftool and a cufhion for the fexton ! Sexton. Which be the malefactors? Verg. Marry, that am I and my Partner. Dog. Nay, that's certain, we have the exhibition to examine. Sexton. But which are the offenders that are to be examin'd ? let them come before mafter conflable. To. CI. Yea, marry, let them come before me ; what is your name, friend ? Bora. Borachio. To. CI. Pray, write down, Borachio. Yours, Sirrah? Com. I am a gentleman, Sir, and my name is Con- rade. To. CI. 4^4 Much Ado about Nothing. To. CI. Write down, mafter gentleman Conrade% matters, do you ferve God? Both. Yea, Sir, we hope, (ip) To. CI. Write down, that they hope they ferve God : and write God firft : for God defend, but God mould go before fuch villains. — Matters, it is proved already that you are little better than falfe knaves^ and it will go near to be thought fo fhortlyj how anfwer you for your felves ? Com. Marry j Sir, we fay, we are none. To. CI. A marvellous witty fellow, I affure you, but I will go about with him. Come you hither, firrah5 a word in your ear, Sir -y I fay to you, it is thought you arc both falfe knaves. Bora. Sir, I fay to you, we are none. To. CI. Wdl, ftand allele > 'fore God, they are both in a tale j have you writ down, that they are none? Sexton. Mafter town-clerk, you go not the way to examine, you mutt call the watch that are their ac* cufers. (20) To. CI. Yea, marry, that's the defteft way, let (19) Both. Tea, Sir, ine hope. To. CI. Write dawn, that they hope, they ferve God : and write God firft: for God defend, but God" ftrould go "before fuch Villains — ] This fhort PafTage, which is truly humourous and in Character, I have ad- ded from the old Quarto. Befides, it fupplies a Defect. : for, without it, the Town- Clerk asks a Queilion of the Prifoners, and goes on without flaying for any Anfwer to it (20) To. CI. Tea, marry, that's the eafieft Way, let the Watch come forth.] This, eafieft, is a Sophiftication of our modern Editors, who were at a Lofs to make out the corrupted Reading of the old Copies. The Quarto, in 1600, and the firft and fecond Editions in Folio all concur. in reading; Tea, marry, that s the efteft way, Sec. A Letter happend to flip out at Prefs in the firft Edition; and 'twas too hard a Ta*k for the fublequent Editors to put it in, or guefs at the Word under this accideutal Depravation. There is no Doubt, but the Author wrote, as I have reftor'd the Text; Tea, marry, thafs the defteft way, &c. i. c. the readieft, molt commodious Way. The Word is pure Saxon. l.e-.p Ut, debite, cor.grue, duely, fitly. LrebTfthCe, opportune, commode, fitly, conveniently, feafonably. in good time, commodioufly. nd. Spelman'j Saxon Glois. the Much Ado about Nothing. 46 j the Watch come forth j mailers, I charge you in the Prince's name accufe thefe men. Enter Watchmen. I Watch. This man faid, Sir, that Don John the Prince's brother was a villain. To. CI. Write down, Prince John a villain; why this is flat perjury, to call a Prince's brother villain. Bora. Mafter town-clerk, • To. CI. Pray thee, fellow, peace; I do not like thy look, I promife thee. Sexton. What heard you him fay elfe? z Watch. Marry, that he had receiv'd a thoufand ducats of Don John, for accufing the lady Hero wrong- fully. To. CI Flat burglary, as ever was committed. Dog. Yea, by th' mafs, that it is. Sexton. What elfe, fellow ? 1 Watch. And that Count Claudio did mean, upon his words, to difgrace Hero before the whole aflem- bly, and not marry her. To. CI. O villain! thou wilt be condemn'd into ever* lading redemption for this. Sexton. What elfe? 2 Watch. This is all. Sexton. And this is more, mailers, than you can de- ny. Prince John is this morning fecretly floll'n a- way: Hero was in this manner accus'd, and in this very manner refus'd, and upon the grief of this fud- denly dy'd. Mailer Conilable, let thefe men be bound and brought to Leonato; I will go before, and fliew him their examination. \Exit. Dog. Come, let them be opinion'd. (21) Conr. Let them be in the hands of Coxcomb! (21) Sexton. Let them he in the hands of Coxcomb.] The Generality of the Editions place this Line to the Sexton. But, why he mould be pert upon his Brother-Officers, there feems no Reafon from any fuperior Qualifications in him ; or any Sufpicion he (hews of knowing their Ig- norance. The old Quarto gave me the firft Umbrage for placing it to Conrade; and common Senfe vouches that it ought to come from one of the Prifonen, in Con;empt of the defpicable Wretches who had them in Cuftrdy. Vol. I. H k Dog. ^gg MuchAdo about Nothing. Dog. God's my life, where's the Sexton? let hitn write down the Prince's officer Coxtwab: come, bind them, thou naughty varlet. : Com. Away! you are an afs, you arc an afs.~ Dog. Dofl thou not fufpect my place? doft thou not fufpecl: my years ? O that he were here to write me down an afs ! but, matters, remember, that I am an afs j though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an afs > no, thou villain, thou art full of piety, as (hall be prov'd upon thee by good witnefs ; I am a wife fellow, and which is more, an officer ; and which is more, an houf- holder ; and which is more, as pretty a piece of flefh as any in MeJJina^ and one that knows the law ; go to, and a rich fellow enough j go to, and a fellow that hath had lofles 5 and one that hath two gowns, and every thing handfome about him 5 bring him away ; O that I had been writ down an afs!—— \Exeunt* ACT V. SCENE, before Leonato'* Houfe. Enter Leonato and Antonio. Antonio. F you go on thus, you will kill yourfelf j And 'tis not wifdom thus to fecond grief Againft your felf. Leon. I pray thee, ceafe thy counfel, Which falls into mine ears as profitlefs As water in a fieve> give not me counfel, Nor let no Comforter delight mine ear, But fuch a one whofe wrongs do fuite with mine. Bring me a father, that fo lov'd his child, Whofe joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine, And bid him fpeak of patience j Mcafurc Much Ado about Nothing. 467 Meafure his woe the length and breadth of mine, And let it anfwer every ftrain for ftrain : As thus for thus, and fuch a grief for fuch, In every lineament, branch, lhape and form ; If fuch a one will fmile and ftrokc his beard, (n) And Sorrow wage> cry, hem! when he fliould groans Patch grief with proverbs j make misfortune drunk With candle- wallers i> bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience. But there is no fuch man 3 for, brother, men Can counfel, and give comfort to that grief Which they themfelves not feel 5 but tailing it, Their counfel turns to paffion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to ragej Fetter ftrong madnefs in a lilken thread, Charm ach with air, and agony with words. No, no j 'tis all mens office to fpeak patience (^3) To (22) If fuch a One will fmile, and ftroke his Beard, And hallow, wag, cry hem, when he fhould groan,"] Mr. Rowe is the firft Authority that I can find for this Reading. But what is the Intention, or how are we to expound it ? " If a Man will halloo, and " whoop, and fidget, and wriggle about, to fhew a Pleafure when He " fhould groan, " 6f c. This does not give much Decorum to the Senti- ment. The old Quarto, and the lit and 2d Folio Editions all read, And forrow, wagge, cry hem, &c. We don't, indeed, get much by this Reading j tho', I flatter my {elf, by a flight Alteration it has led me to the true one, And Sorrow wage ; cry, hem ! when he Jhauld groan ; i. e* If fuch a One will combat with, ft rive againft Sorrow, &c. Nor is this Word infrequent with our Author in thefe Significations. So, in his Lear; To wage ; againft the Enmity d'th' Air, . • Neceffitys ftrong Pinch. So, in Othello; Neglefting an Attempt of Eafe and Gaint To wake and wage a Danger profitlefs. And in the ill Henr. IV. / fear the Pow'r of Percy is too weak To wage an infant Tryal with the King, (23) No, no; 'tis all Men s Office to fpeak Patience To thofe, that wring under the Load of Sorrow i But no Man's Virtue, nor Sufficiency, To be fo moral, when he Jhall endure The like himfelf] Patience under Misfortunes eafier adviVd* than maintain'd, is one of the Topics of Shakefpeare, for which, Mr. H h 2 Gildm 4&8 Much Ado about Nothing, To thofe, that wring under the load of forrow ; But no man's virtue, nor fufftciency, To be fo moral, when he {hall endure The like himfelf; therefore give me no counfel \ My griefs cry louder than advertifement. Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ. Leon. I pray thee, peace; I will be fleih and blood 5 For there was never yet philofopher, That could endure the tooth-ach patiently^ However they have writ the ftyle of Gods, And made a pifh at chance and fufferance. Ant. Yet bend not all the harm upon your felf : Make thofe, that do offend you, fuffer too. Leon* There thou fpeak'ft reafon; nay, I will do fo. My foul doth tell me, Hero is bely'd 3 And that {hall Claudio know, fo {hall the Prince 5 And all of them, that thus difhonour her. Enter Don Pedro, and Claudio. Ant. Here Comes the Prince and Claudio haflily. Pedro. Good den, good den. Claud. Good day to both of you. Leon. Hear you, my lords ? Pedro. We have fome hafte, Leonato. Gildon told us, he had met with no Parallels among the Antients: And Tiiis Observation is particularly directed to the Panage now before Us. A Man of fo much Reading mull certainly be betray'd by his Memory in this Point: For I have long ago obferv'd no lefs than five Paflages, all which feem to be a very reafonable Foundation for our Author's Sen- timents on this Subject. Facile omnes, quum valemus, reEla Conjilia agrotii damns'* Tuji bic Jts, a liter fentias. Ttrtnt. Tl£sijjoif]cL$. jfcfchyl. * Akkm Trovxv}t p&cPiov <&tyivi That when I note another man like him, I may avoid him ; which of thefe is he? Bora. If you would know your wronger, look on me. Leon. Art thou, art thou the flave, that with thy breath Has kill'd mine innocent child? Bora. Yea, even I alone. Leon. No, not fo, villain 5 thou bely'ft thy felf 5 Here ftand a pair of honourable men, A third is fled, that had a hand in it : I thank you, Princes, for my daughter's death 5 Record it with your high and worthy deeds > 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. Claud. I know not how to pray your patience, Yet I muft fpeak : chufe your revenge your felf, Impofe me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my fin* yet finn'd I not, But in miftaking. Pedro. By my foul, nor I; And yet to fatisfie this good old man, I would bend under any heavy weight,' That he'll enjoyn me to. Leon. You cannot bid my daughter live again, That were impoffible> but, I pray you both, Poffefs the People in Mejjina here How innocent fhe dy'd > and if your love Can labour ought in fad invention, Hang her an Epitaph upon her tomb, And fing it to her bones, fing it to night : To morrow morning come you to my houfe, And fince you could not be my fon-in-law, Be yet my nephew j my brother hath a daughter, Almoft the copy of my child that's dead, And {he alone is heir to both of us 5 Give her the Right you fhould have given her Coufin, And fo dies my revenge, Claud. 47^ Much Ado about Nothing.' Claud, O noble Sir! Your over-kindnefs doth wring tears from me : I do embrace your offer 5 and difpofe Foi* henceforth of poor Ql audio. Leon. To morrow then I will expect your Coming, To night I take my leave. This naughty man Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, Who, I believe, was pack'd in all this wrong, Hir'd to it by your brother. Bora. No, by my foul, Hie was not t Nor knew not what fhe did, when (he fpoke to mc. But always hath been juft and virtuous, In any thing that I do know by her. Dogb. Moreover, Sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this -plaintiff here, the offender, did call me afs: I befeech you, let it be remembred in his punifhmentj and alfo (16) the watch heard them (26) The Watch heard them talk of one Deformed; they fay, he "wears a Key in his Ear, and a Lock hanging by it, and borroivs money in Ged's Name, &c] There could not be a more agreeable Ridicule upon t]ic Fajhion, than the Conftabie's Defcant upon his own Blunder. One of the rnoft fantaftical Modes of that Time was the indulging a favourite Lock of Hair, and fufFering it to grow much longer than all its Fellows; which they always brought before, (as we do the Knots of a Tye-Wig,) ty'd with Ribbands or Jewels. King Charles the ift wore One of thefe favourite Locks, as his Hiitorians take Notice, and as his Pictures by Vandike prove : And whoever has been converfant with the Faces of that Painter, mull have obferv'd a great many drawn in that Faftiion. In Lord Clarendo n's- Hiftory compleated, {a Book in Oclavo) being a Collection of Heads engraved from the Paintings of Vandike, we may fee this Mode in the Prints of the Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Dorfet, Lord Goring, &c. all great Courtiers. As to the Key in the Ear, and the Lock hanging by it, there may be a Joak in the Ambiguity of the Terms. But whether we think, that Shakefpeare meant to, ridicule the Fajhion in the abstracted Senfe ; or whether he fneer'd at the Courtiers, the Parents of it, we mall rind the Pefcription equally fatirical. The Key in the Ear might be fuppos'd literally: For they wore Rings, Lock- ets, and Ribbands in a Hole made in the Ear ; and fometimes, Rings one within another: But it might be likewife allegorically underftood, to fignify, the great Readinefs the Courtiers had in giving Ear to, or going into new Follies or Fafhions. As for borrowing Money and never payings That is an old Common Place againft the Court and Followers of Faxons. Mr. Warburton. talk Much Ado about Nothing. 477 talk of one Deformed: they fay, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it j and borrows money in God's name, the which he hath us'd fo long, and never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, and will lend nothing for God's fake. Pray you, examine him upon that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honefl; pains. Dogb. Your Worfhip fpeaks like a moft thankful and reverend youth} and I praife God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains. Dogb. God fave the foundation! Leon. Go, I difcharge thee of thy prifonerj and I thank thee. Dogb. I leave an errant knave with your Worfhip, which, I befeech your Worfhip, to correct your felf, for the example of others. God keep your Worfhip $ I wifh your Worfhip well: God reftore you to health $ I humbly give you leave to depart $ and if a merry meeting may be wiih'd, God prohibit it. Come, neigh- bour. [_Exeunt. Leon. Until to morrow morning, Lords, farewel. Ant. Farewel, my Lords \ we look for you to morrow. Pedro. We will not fail. Claud. To night I'll mourn with Hero. Leon. Bring you thefe fellows on, we'll talk with> Margaret^ How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. \Exeunt fever ally. SCENE changes to LeonatoV Houfi. Enter Benedick, and Margaret. ta.pRAY thee, fweet miftrefs Margaret ^ deferve JL well at my hands, by helping me to the fpeech of Beatrice. Marg. Will you then write me a fonnet in praife of my beauty ? Bene. In To high a ftyle, Margaret, that no man liv- ing mall come over it* for, in moft comely truth, thou deferveft it. Marg . 478 Much Ado about Nothing. (17) Marg. To have no Man come over me ? why, ihall I always keep above flairs ? Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyhound's mouth, it catches. Marg. And yours as blunt as the fencer's foils, which hit, but hurt not. Bene. A moft manly wit, Margaret, it will not hurt a woman 5 and fo, I pray thee, call Beatrice -, I give thee the bucklers. Marg. Give us the fwordsj we have bucklers of our own. Bene. If you ufe them, Margaret^ you muft put in the pikes with a vice, and they are dangerous weapons for maids. Marg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, who, I think, hath legs. {Exit Margaret. Bene. And therefore will come. {Sings."] the God of love^ that Jits above^ and knows me, and knows me9 how pitiful I deferve, — I mean, in finging •, but in loving, Leander the good fwimmer, Troilus the firft employer of pandars, and a whole book full of thefe quondam carpet-mongers, whofe names yet run fmoothly in the even road of a blank verfe 5 why, they were never fo truly turn'd over and over, as my poor felf in love; marry, I cannot fhew it in rhimej I have try'd; I can find out no rhime to lady but baby^ an innocent's rhimej for fcorn^ horn^ a hard rhime * for fchool, fool9 a babling rhimej very ominous endings; no, I was not born under a rhiming planet, for I cannot woo in feftival terms. Enter Beatrice. Sweet Beatrice, Would'ft thou come when I call thee? (27) To have no Man come over me f there will I leave you too, for here comes one in hafle. Enter Urfula. JJrfu. Madam, you muft come to your uncle ; yon* der's old coil at home ; it is proved, my lady Hero hath been falfely accus'd 5 the Prince and Claudio mightily abus'dj an'd Don John is the author of all, who is fled and gone : will you come prefently ? Beat. Will you go hear this news, Signior? Bene. I will live in thy eyes, die in thy lap, and be bury'd in thy heart; and moreover I will go with thee to thy uncle. [Exeunt, SCENE changes to a Church. Enter Don Pedro, Claudio, and Attendants with tapers. Claud. TS this the monument of Leonato? JL Atten. It is, my lord. EPITAPH. Done to death by Jlanderous tongues Was the Hero, that here lyes: Deaths in guerdon of her wrongs^ Gives her fame which never dies. So the life, that dy'd with flame. Lives in death with glorious fame. Hang thou there upon the tomb, Praijing her when I am dumb. Claud. Now mulick found, and fing your folemii hymn. SONG. Much Ado about Nothing. 481 SON G. Pardon^ Goddefs of the nighty Thofe that flew thy virgin knight ; For the which with fongs of woe, Round about her tomb they go. Midnight^ ajflfl our moan\ Help us to flgh and groan Heavily !, heavily: Graves, yawn and yield your dead, *Till death be uttered, Heavily, heavily. Claud. Now unto thy bones good night j Yearly will I do this Rite. Pedro. Good morrow, mailers, put your torches out, The wolves have prey'dj and, look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowfie eaft with fpots of grey : Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare you well. Claud. Good morrow, mailers > each his feveral way. Pedro. Come, let us hence, and put on other weeds ; And then to Leonato's we will go. Claud. And Hymen now with luckier ifTue fpeed's, (28) Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe! [Exeunt* (28) And Hymen noma with luckier IJfue fpeeds, Than this, for nyhotn before this holy Friar, I am your husband if you like of me. Here. And when I liv'd, I was your other wife. [Unmasking. And when you lov'd, you were my other husband. Claud. Another Hero? (zp) Hero. Nothing certainer. One Hero dy'd defil'd, but I do live; And, furely, as I live, I am a maid. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero, that is dead ! Leon. She dy'd, my lord, but whiles her flander liv'd. Friar. All this amazement ean I qualifie. "When, after that the holy rites are ended, I'll tell thee largely of fair Hero's death: Mean time let wonder feem familiar, And to the chappel let us prefently. Bene. Soft and fair, friar. Which is Beatrice? Beat. I anfwer to that name 5 what is your will ? Bene. Do not you love me ? Beat. Why, no 5 no more than reafon. Bene. Why, then your Uncle, and the Prince, and Claudio^ have been deceiv'dj they fwore, you did. Beat. Do not you love me? Bene. Troth, no, no more than reafon. Beat. Why, then my Coufin, Margaret % and UrfuU% Have been deceiv'd; for they did fwear, you did. Bene. They fvvore, you were almoft fick for mc. Beat. They fwore, you were well-nigh dead for me. Bene. 'Tis no matter; then you do not love me? Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompence. (29) Claud, Another Vitro] Hero. Nothing certainer : One Hero dyd\ hut I dc /i for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclufion > for thy part, Claudio^ I did think to have beaten thee j but in that thou art like to be my kinfman, live unbruis'd, and love my coufin. Claud. I had well hoped, thou would ft have denied Beatrice^ that I might have cudgeli'd thee out of thy fingle life, to make thee a double dealer 5 which, out of queftion, thou wilt be, if my Coufin do not look exceeding narrowly to thee. Bene. Come, come, we are friends; let's have a Dance ere we are marry'd, that we may lighten our own hearts, and our wives heels. Leon. We'll have dancing afterwards. Bene. Firft, o' my word} therefore, play mufick. Prince, thou art fad, get thee a wife, get thee a wife* there is no ftafF more reverend than one tipt with horn. Widow. Sir, you /peak like * voorthy Brother. And Jo much I do cre- dit your fair Language, that I Jhall love your Brother ; and Jo love him, but I Jhall hlujh to fay more. Eld. Love. Stop her Mouth. [To his Brother, who kifles her. And Wehjier in his Dut chefs of Malfy. Dutch. ■ .I'll flop your Mouth. \KiJJing hivt. Anto. Nay, that's but One : Venus had tvoo foft Doves To dravo her Chariot : — I mujl have another. [Kiffing her. And fo I conclude this Volume con la hocca dolce, as the Italians ex- prefc themfelves. Enttt Much Ado about Nothing. 487 Enter Meflenger. Mejf. My Lord, your brother John is ta'cn in flight, And brought with armed men back to MeJJina. Bene. Think not on him 'till to morrow : I'll dcvifc thee brave punifhments for him. Strike up, Pipers. [Dance. [Exeunt omnes. The End of the Firji Volume. * *H