fI,»/J "m. ^^' (?«-_ji '~'^^- i^li^ '^., ^ 3^ ^^.■•.m PR Xn55 \j.\ ajatttcU lntuer0tta ffiihrarg JItljata. SJ?» §ark FROM THE BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY COLLECTED BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY i ilFf ft V Date D . Iwk'U O 1, lOU ^gf — — - — ■ -. i^. S A (Sr NO. 23233 Cornell University Library PR 2753.D99 1875 v.1-9 The works of William Shalz- -Me^c 3, THE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. THE TEXT REVISED BY THE EEV. ALEXANDER DYCE. IN NINE VOLUMES. VOL. I. THIRD EDITION. LONDON: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193 PICCADILLY. 1871;. 111-. I; A /\. Gl-^^^ ro;H3VlMli 1^ 51 A )-] 1-1 1 , 1 TO JOHN FORSTER, ESQ^ HISTORIAN, BIOGRAPHER, AND CRITIC, Cl^is €hiiian of S'^inhspRtt, IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE ZEAL WITH WHICH HE PROMOTED ITS PUBLICATION, IS INSCRIBED BY HIS FRIEND, ALEXANDER DYCE. CONTENTS OF 70L. I. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION . PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE SHAKESPEARE'S WILL . APPENDIX .... EARLY EDITIONS DEDICATION, &c. COMMENDATORY VERSES . THE TEMPEST . THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR . MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 1 13 132 139 149 158 161 171 259 341 441 PEEFAOE TO THE THIRD EDITION. The latest employment of Mr. Dyce's life was a revision of the second impression of his Edition of Shakespeare. He was on his death-bed when I received from him the copy from which the present book is printed. ' The task on which he had set his heart he had not been able entirely to com- plete; but there were new touches throughout, and some important changes were made in the first four volumes. In his first edition, to use his own words, he had too timidly adhered to sundry more than questionable readings of the early copies. His second edition exhibited a text greatly amended in this respect; though he had not less strictly conformed to rules of language and construction drawn from that full and varied knowledge of the phraseology of Shakespeare's age, which made him eminent among English scholars. The result was its acceptance generally as perhaps the nearest approach to a correct text now attainable. The changes in this third edition had their origin in Mr. Dyce's just dread of the restless ingenuity and imperfect knowledge which have led to so many wanton alterations in our old writers. No longer an over-cautious editor, he is yet very far from an over-bold one. Not many months before his death, he prefaced by a remark to this efi'ect a re- print of Shakespeare's text, unaccompanied by note or com- mentary, which appeared in the Leipzig series of English books; and the admonitory inscriptions which met the eye X PEEFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. of Spenser's Britomart in the castle of Busyrane, set apart to accompany that reprint, will suitably illustrate the volumes now placed before the reader. ' And as she lookt about, she did behold How over that same dore was likewise writ Be hold, he hold, and every where, Be bold. At last she spyde at that rowme's upper end Another yron dore, on which was writ Be not too hold.' It is only just that I should not omit, what I think Mr. Dyce would have prominently mentioned if he had himself written a preface to this book, the high opinion he had formed of a pamphlet by the Eev. W. E. Arrowsmith, pub- lished while his second edition was in progress, quoted by him before its close, and in the present edition more fre- quently referred to. I heard Mr. Dyce repeatedly say that he had never seen so forcibly stated, or supported by better examples, what he believed to be the only safe rule of guid- ance in settling disputed readings. Mr. Robson, the printer of the two preceding editions, to whom the strongest obligations were expressed by their Edi- tor, has again done invaluable service by his scrupulous attention to the accuracy of Mr. Dyce's text. JOHN POESTEE. September 1874. PREFACE TO THE Second editiok The present work is so far from being a reprint of the edition •whicli appeared in 1857, that it exhibits a text altered and amended from beginning to end. Throughout the former edition, influenced, perhaps unconsciously, by the example of Malone and of some later editors (whom the oyer-boldness of Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, &c. had rendered over-cautious), I was content to allow readings of a much more than doubtful character to retain their places in the text, provided I made mention in the notes how a considerable portion of them had been corrected by critical conjecture. Of the impropriety of such a plan — as tending only to perpetuate error — I am now fully convinced; nor assuredly has my conviction on that head been at all shaken by the recently-published volumes of the Cambridge Shakespeare,^ in which (whatever its merits in other respects) the editors adhere passim to the corruptions of the old copies with a pertinacity akin to that of Mr. Knight, before his superstitious devotion to the first folio had lost something of its fervour.^ In short, I now believe that an exact reprint of the old text with its multi- farious errors forms a more valuable contribution to literature ' Vols. i. ii. ' In consequence, I appretend, of my Remarks, &c., 1844. VOL. I. A xii PEErACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. than a semi-corrected text, which, purged here and there of the grossest blunders, continues still, almost in every page, to offend against sense and metre. — If the most eminent classical scholars, in editing the dramas of antiquity, have not scrupled frequently to employ conjecture for the restoration of the text, I cannot understand why an editor of Shakespeare — whose plays have come down to us no less disfigured by corruption than the masterpieces of the Athenian stage — should hesitate to adopt the happiest of the emendations proposed from time to time, during more than a century and a half,^ by men of great sagacity and learning ; — always assuming that the deviations from the early editions are duly recorded. In several instances, when ancient Greek manu- scripts have been unexpectedly discovered — among others, the Ravenna manuscript of Aristophanes — they have borne a striking testimony to the value of conjectural criticism; and I make no doubt that, were the original manuscripts of Shakespeare's works miraculously to turn up, we should have proof that his commentators and critics, from Howe down- wards, had retrieved the genuine readings in a vast number of passages, which the ignorance and presumption of the actors, the somnolency of the transcribers, and the carelessness of the player-editors had conspired to ruin. With reference to the present edition, — I would fain hope that, in ceasing to be a timid editor, I have not become a rash one ; and that, in dealing with the corruptions of the early copies, I shall be thought to have properly distinguished between emendations which may be regarded as legitimate, and such extravagant alterations as would almost lead to the conclusion that nature bestows the gift of common sense but ' Eowe iiublished his first edition in 1709. At what date Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector "flourished" is still a mystery. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. mii very sparingly. Indeed, I have passed over in silence an immense mass of so-called "corrections" of the latter descrip- tion, — not a few of which belong to a very recent period. Here, however, it may not be amiss to subjoin some speci- mens of the newest attempts at the improvement of Shake- speare's text. — To illustrate the words " Time and the hour," — in a line of Macbeth, act i. sc. 3, " Thne and the hour rims [or ruu] through the roughest day," — Steevens and Malone adduced from old English writers phraseology almost parallel; and, several years ago, I showed that the expression " il tempo e V ora" occurred in the earlier Italian poets :* it might have been presumed therefore that not the slightest suspicion would henceforth attach to the line. But no : Mr. Samuel BaUey declares that it "is not merely tautological, but marked by real incongruity of thought ;" and he proposes to read " Time's sandy hour rims through the roughest day.''^ ^Further on in the same tragedy, act i. sc. 7, — " Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. * ;;: ;;; >;= * * -» :)! -,;; What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me ?" — the same writer detects " four spurious words materially weakening or perverting the sense;" and he gets rid of them by reading * See note ad I. in the present edition. ' Ore tlie Received Text of Shakespeare's Dramatic Writings, and its Im- provement, pp. 89, 90. (The "sandy hour" of "the glass" is an expi-ession which occurs in The First Part of King Henry VI. act iv. sc. 2.) xiv PBEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. " AVas the liope diiuik Wherein you hless'd yourself? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it eyed so freely ? Trom this time Such I account thy liver. "What baseness was't, then, That made you break this entei-prise to me ?" As to the third of these emendations, " liver,"' Mr. Bailey allows that it " is almost sure to startle the reader, hut," he continues, " I entertain no douht that on reflection he will become reconciled to it."" — Part of a soliloquy in Hamlet, act i. sc. 6, — " O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain ! My tables, — aneet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain ; At least I'm sm-e it may be so in Denmark : \JVriting. So, uncle, there you are. Now to mj' word ; It is, ' Adieu, adieu ! remember me :' I have swom't," — has been reficted as follows by a gentleman whose initials are A. E. B. ;^ " O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain ! My tables ! meet it is I set it down. — That one may smile and smile and be a viUaiu ! At least I'm svire it may be so in Denmark ; So, uncle, there you are ! — now to my word ; It is 'Adieu, adieu, remember me.' [Writiiir/. I have sworn it. [Having kissed the tulles." And lest the passage as altered by A. E. B. should fail to attract the attention it deserves, and should happen not to be clearly understood. Dr. Inglehy ha;s eagerly brought it forward, from the recesses of Notes and Queries, as " a true restoration," and expounds it thus : " Hamlet's speech is « Id. pp. 72-76. ' In Dr. Ingleby's Coviplete Vino of the Shakspere Controversy, &o. p. 181, we ai-e told that "A. E. B." are "Mr. Brae's well-known [?] initials." PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xv broken from excitement and impulse. He begins to say that he must set ' it' down ; but does not say what. Then comes his admirative comment on the King's smiling villany ; then the statement of the known instance. ' So, uncle, there you are !' means So, uncle, I've found you out! Then check- ing himself, he says — 'Now to my word' (or ' words,' as the quarto 1603 has it), i. e. the thing which he is to set down. ' Meet it is I set it down' * * * < it' is ' Adieu, adieu, adieu \_sic], reinember me !' "* On another soliloquy in Ham- let, act i. sc. 2, — " and yet, witliin a month, — Let me not tliinlc on't, — Frailty, thy name is woman ! — , A little month ; or e'er those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears ; — why, she, even she, — O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason. Would have mouru'd longer, — married with mine uncle," &c. Dr. Ingleby has tried his own hand : he substitutes " A little moutli ; or e'er those shows were old. With which she follow'd my poor father's body. Like Niobe, all tears," &c.^ — recollecting that Theobald had won praise for altering " shoes" to " shoivs"^^ in King John, act ii. sc. 1, and concluding that the change of a word which was good in one place could not but be good in another. — I must be allowed to add, that when I find Dr. Ingleby deliberately proclaiming the " con- sistency and beauty"^^ of A. E. B.'s " true restoration," and also deliberately depriving the Danish queen of her world- famed " shoes,"- — I am no longer surprised at the contempt he expresses^^ for the Ms. Corrector's palmarian emenda- ' Ingleby's Shakspeare Fabrications, &o. p. 52. » Id. jip. 109-112. " One of those emendations which I now blame myself for not admitting into my former edition. " InglebyJe Shakspeare Fabrications, &c. p. 53. '2 A Complete View of the ShaJcspere Controversy, &c. pp. 239, 350. xvi PEEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. tion, "this bisson multitude, "^^ and for me because I have adopted it. The present edition differs from the former as much in the notes as in the text, — the changes made in the text having necessitated equal changes in the notes, which are now more than twice as numerous as before. In mark- ing how the text varies from the old copies, I have not thought it needful to mention such alterations as " thou art" to " thou'i-t" (or vice versa), " he will" to " he'll" (or vice versa), "1 would" to "I'd" (or vice versa), &c. ; and where the old copies have a plural noun with a singular verb I have silently substituted (except in particular cases) a plural verb ; — in all which minutiae the old copies are quite inconsistent. -"^^ '^ Coriolanus, act iii. sc. 1. " The folio," observes Mr. Grant White ad 1., "has the extravagant misprint 'this Bosome-muUiplied,' which yet remained imoorreoted tUl the diso.overy of Mr. Collier's foKo of 1632, and -which — so stolidly tenacious is hide-hound conservatism of its mumpsimiis — ^has since then found defenders." — In The Parthenon for Nov. 1st, 1862, p. 848, the late Mr. W. W. Williams, a critic of no ordinary acnteness, speaking of the " ridi- culous blunders in the old copies" of Shakesjjeare, wi'ites thus; "He [the reader] may not know that, when he finds Hamlet addressing the Queen of Denmark as ' good mother,' the earliest authority makes him apostrophize her as ' coold mother,' and a subsequent one as ' could smother ;' that, in the same play, ' the dreadful summit of a cliff' is printed ' the dreadful sonnet of a cliff,' suggestive of cadence, but scarcely of a precipice ; and that ' the lite - rendering pelican' is presented as 'thb life - rendering Politician' — a sturdy patriot, ready to ' die upon the floor' of an ornithological House of Commons. Our little friend, 'the temple - haunting martlet,' in Machethy appears as ' the temple-hannting Barlet,' — one of those rare visitants to our shores of which we have not even a stuffed specimen in our museums. That ' white beards' should be transformed into ' white hears' need create no alarm, for one may detect the conjm'ation as one reads. But there was an old word ' bisson' =6Knc?, whose presence was not so readily recognised. When, in Coriolanus, Menenius humorously calls blind eyes ' bisson conspectuities,' the revered foKo favours us with ' beesome conspectuities,' — a thi'iUing epithet, biit certainly misplaced ; and when Coriolanus alludes with patrician scorn to the ' bisson multitude,' he is made to vent his sarcasm in ' Bosome-multi- plied' — a compound more curious than caustic — which was ' explained' by Malone, and has since found a chivab'ous defender." " This Preface was already in the hands of the printer when a Ion"- article on the Cambridge Shakespeare appeared in The Times newspaper for Sept. 29, 1863, — a portion of the critiq^ue running thus ; PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xvii — To the last volume is appended a Glossary, wherein the language of the poet, his allusions to customs, &c. are fully explained. In preparing this edition I have been greatly assisted by the late Sidney Walker's Shakespeare's Versification, &c., and "We should not, however, ineist on such inaccuracies as these, were they not accompanied by other errors systematically committed, not from over- sight, but from choice. It is -well known, for example, that the word its was only coming into use in Shakespeare's time. Milton hardly ever used it ; the translators of the Bible also avoided it. Shakespeare for the possessive case of it sometimes wi'ote its, sometimes his, and sometimes it. An example of this last is the line, — ' The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth ;' and again, — ' Go to it grandara, child, and it grandam will give it a plum.' When it therefore appears in Shakespeare as the eijuivalent oiits, there is a philolo- gical interest attached to it which we should expect that the editors of what professes to be a scholarly edition of the plays would respect. Instead of this, they modernize Shakespeare's grammar, and insist npon his writing its where in accordance with the usage of the time he wrote it. So again, verbs ending in t and d constantly throughout the original editions of Shakespeare's works are found making their second person singular in ts or ds instead of fst and d'st. This form we find in Burns. In one of his most celebrated songs, addressing a little bird on the banks of Doon, he says, — ' Thou minds me o' departed joys.' When the form occurs in Shakespeare, the editors have determined to ignore it and to modernize it. Another habit of Shake- speare's is to use a noun plural with a verb singular. Every one will remem- ber the song in Cyinbeline in which we hear of the springs ' on chaliij^d flowers that lies.' Now such a grammatical oonstrnction as this is frequent in the plays," &c. 1. With respect to " it" and " its :" — In the above-cited passage of King John, act ii. EC. 1, I retain (with Malone, Mr. CoUier, &c.) the "it" of the folio ; and my reason for doing so is obvious enough from the nature of the passage ; " Do, child, go to it' grandam, child ; Give grandam kingdom, and it' grandam will Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig : There's a good grandam." But in the above-cited line of The Winter's Tale, act iii. so. 2, — " The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth," — I substitute "its" for "it;" because, unless I were indifferent about xjreserving consistency, I could not retain " it" in that line, and yet in another passage of the same play, act i. so. 2, print with the folio (the only authority for the text of The Winter's Tale), " How sometimes nature will betray it's folly. It's tenderness, and make itself a pastime," &c. To me, who firmly believe — nor am I singular in the belief — that not one of xvui PEEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. his Critical Examination, &c., — works which undoubtedly form altogether the most valuable body of verbal criticism on our poet that has yet appeared from the pen of an individual. Though not relying implicitly on the former work for Shakespeare's dramas was originally printed from his own manuscript, there is something passing strange in the reviewer's unqualified assertion that Shakespeare " sometimes wrote its, sometimes his, and sometimes it." 2. The statement that "verbs ending in t and d constantly throughout the original editions of Shakespeare's works are found making their second per- son singular in is or ds instead of t'st or d'st," is disproved by the foUomng passages, which half-an-hour's cursory examination of the early copies has enabled me to adduce ; " Thou cul'st my head off with a golden axe." Romeo and Juliet, act iii. sc. 3. " Thou wanVst a rough pash," &c. The Winter's Tale, act i. sc. 2. " And if thou want'st a cord," &c. King John, act iv. so. 2. " Mett'st thou my posts ?" Antony and Cleo^iatra, act i. sc. 5. " And start so often when thou sitt'st alone." First Fart of King Henry IV. act ii. sc. 3. " Nay, Hall, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword." Id. act v. sc. 3. " If thou get'st any leave of me, hang me." Sec. Part of King Henry IV. act i. sc. 2. "Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all." Romeo and Juliet, act iii. sc. 3. " Ihon find'st to be too busy is some danger." Hamlet, act iii. sc. i. "And, England, if my love thou hold'st at naught." Id. act iv. 60. 3. " When thou hold'st up thy hand." Midsummer-Night's Dream, act iii. sc. 2. " And give the letters which thou find'st about me." King Lear, act iv. sc. 6. " Thou spend'st such high-day art in praising him." The Merchant of Venice, act ii. sc. 9. " There's not the smallest orb which thou hehold'st," &c. Id. act V. sc. i. 3. As to "a noun plural with a verb singular:" — Where the rhyme requires it, as in the case of the above-cited song in Cymbeline, act ii. sc. 3 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xix what concerns the metre of Shakespeare, I yet regard it as an incomparably better authority than the-History of English Rhythms by Dr. Guest, who, if he has not a proneness to seek "tbose springs On ohalic'd flowers that lies," — an editor must necessarily follow the old copies : but I cannot think that, except where a rhyme is in question, or where some low character happens to he speaking, an editor is called upon to offend his readers hy presenting them with nouns plural to verbs singular ; for though it is certain that "such a grammatical construction is frequent in the plays" (i. e. in the old copies of the plays), it is also certain that there is no lack in those plays of plural nominatives to plural verbs. In the same article apud The Times the reviewer seems decidedly to approve of the reading printed (not merely, as he teHs us, "proposed") by CapeU in The Merry Wives of Windsor, act i. sc. 4 ; according to which Simple, while describing Slender, says, " he hath but a little whey-face, with a little yellow beard, a cane-coloiu'ed beard." Now, the folio, which alone preserves the complete and corrected text of that comedy, exhibits the passage literatim thus ; " he hath but n, little wee-face ; with a little yellow Beard : a Caine colouied Beard ;" while the quartos, which contain only an imperfect text of the first sketch of the play, have in the corresponding passage, " Quic And he has as it were a wliay coloured beard. Sim. Indeed my maisters beard is kane colored ;" which passage of the quartos suggested to Capell his emendation. — When the reviewer objects to the received reading, " a little wee face," that it " gives two epithets of size which mean the same thing," he cannot be aware how common the use of " wee" after " little" was formerly; and is even in our own day, — I myself, on many occasions, having heard the lower classes in the north of England and in Scotland apply the double epithet " little^ wee" both to persons and to things. Again, when the reviewer affii'ms that the folio's having " wee face" hyphened " is a principal argument in favour of Capell's reading," he writes very hastily indeed ; for in old books the hyphen is often introduced with strange impropriety (see note 39, p. 424 of this vol., and my note on the words " thin bestained cloak" in King John, act iv. sc. 3) ; and just as "wee-face" is hyphened in the folio ed. of The Merry Wives of Windsor, so "wee-man" is hyphened in the quarto ed. of Heywood's Fair Maid of the West, — in a passage which is itself a host against CapeU's emen- dation ; " Bes. And where dwelt he ? Clem. Below here in the next crooked street, at the signe of the Leg. Hee was nothing so tali as I, but a little wee-man, and somewhat huckt- backt." First Fart, p. 14, ed. 1631. XX PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. out, seems to admit, every sort of irregularity in the versifi- cation of the Elizabethan dramatists, and, to a considerable extent, to mix up their metrical systems with those not only of the older English but also of the Anglo-Saxon poets. This would render him an unsafe guide for an editor of Shakespeare, even if he did not occasionally give, as examples of certain kinds-of versification, lines which he either misquotes, or lines which are manifestly corrupted, E. g. Hist. ofEng. Rhythms, vol. i. p. 37 ; " ' Let 2>it\y not | he heliev\ed : there | she shooh The lioly water from her heavenly eyes.' Lear, 4. 3." A passage found only in the quartos, and certainly not to be depended upon. Vol. i. p. 197 ; " ' With I moh ho\Uness : can | you do | it.' [Sec. Part of] //. G, 2. 1." Corrupted, and all but nonsense. Vol. i. p. 218; "'7s I my Mits\man : whom | the hinrj | hath wrong'd].' B. 2, a. 2." One of the hobbling lines in a speech which has sufiered most cruelly from the transcriber or printer. Vol. i. p. 219 ; " ' But hast thou yet latch'd the Athenian's eyes With I the love | juice: as | I hid | thee do\T M. N. D. 3. 2." Misquoted. The old copies read " With the love juice, as I did bid thee do." Vol. i. p. 221 ; " 'Nay I ifyoa melt\: then \ icill she | run mad\.' 1 H. 4, 3. 1." PBEPACE, TO THE SECOND EDITION. xxi In this line a word is evidently wanting ; nor is the old text to be defended by the line which Dr. Guest cites ibid., — " ' Poison'd, ill fare ! dead ! forsook ! cast off.' Kff. John, 5. 7," — for in that line " fare" is to be considered as a dissyllable : see Walker's Shakespeare's Versification, &c. p. 139. Vol; i. p. 225 ; " ' Wliicli, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows Of what I is not\: Then, | most gra\dotts queen, | More than yoiu- lord's departure weep not.' B. 2, 2. 2." Misquoted. The old copies have " Of what it is not. Then i/j)-ic«-gracious queen," &c. Vol. i. p. 231 ; " ' Lord Mar\shall oommand\: our of\ficers | at arms\,* Be ready to direct these home alaiTnes.' B. 2, 1. 1." ■'^ " Fol. Ed. 1623. In the modem Editions the word Lord is omitted. ' Surely the modern editors are justified in omitting the word "' Lord" as an interpolation, when (to say nothing of the line being the first line of a couplet) they find in sc. 3 of this act the same speaker (King Eichard) saying, " Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause," &c. and " Order the trial, marshal, and begin.'' Vol. i. p. 232 ; " ' We may 'bold\lij spend\: upon | the hope | of what | Is to come in.' [First Part of] H. 4, 3 [4] , 1." Faulty beyond a doubt. Vol. i. p. 233 ; " 'In a char\iot of\: ines\tim\able val\ue.' Pericles, 2. 4." xxii PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. No such line occurs in the old copies of this dreadfully vitiated play. They have " Wlien lie was seated in a chariot Of an inestimable value, and liis -daiigliter with Mm," &o. out of which the modern editors have made " When he was seated, and his daughter with him. In a chariot of inestimable value." Vol. i. p. 238 ; " ' IIu\bert, Iceep | this boy\: Phil\ip, maJce up\, Mjr mother is assailed in her [our] tent. And ta'en I fear.' Kg. John, 3, 2." In spite of the four lines of Anglo-Saxon (!) which Dr. Guest adduces as similar in metre to the first line of this speech, I feel confident that it is mutilated, — Shakespeare having most probably written " Hubert, keep tJiou this boy. — Pliilip, make up," &c. Vol. i. p. 238 ; " ' Stay\! the Icing | hath thrown^: his war\der doii)n\.' R. 2, 1. .3." But what says Walker? "Eead, — 'Stay, stay !' The, situation itself, surely, demands more than the simple ' Stay'." Crit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 144. (And the reduplication of the word " Stay" was very common ; " Stay, stay thy hands ! thou art an Amazon," &o. First Part of King Henry VI. act i. so. ■>. " Stay, stay, I say!" Id. act iii. sc. 1. " Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus," &c. Tiinon of Athens, act ii. sc. 2.) Vol. i. p. 239 ; " 'Let's to the sea-side, ho ! As well to see the vessel that's come in. As I throiv out | our eyes\: for brave | Othelllo.' Othello, 2. 1." PREFACE TO THE SBCOJNJJ EDITION. xxiii Misquoted. The old eds. have " As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello.'' Vol. i. p. 240 ; " ' And thus do we of wisdom and of reach By indii-ections find directions out. So I hj for\mer lec\ture : and | culvice\, Shall you, my son.' Hamlet, i, 1." Misquoted. The old eds. have " So by my former lecture and advice," &o. Vol. i. p. 241 ; "'See I him pluck | Auficl\ius : down | by the Juiir\.' Oor. 1, 3." That Shakespeare wrote " I see him pluck Aufidius down by th' hair" (the folio of 1623 having " th' hair") is almost proved by other lines of the speech ; " Metliinks / hear liither your husband's drum," and " Metliinks / see him stamp thus, and call thus." Vol. i. p. 245 ; " ' Come, I for the third, | Laer\tes : you do | but dal\ly.' Hamlet, 9, 2." In this line the folio of 1623 omits "do," and rightly. Vol. i. p. 250 ; " ' Have for\ty miles | to ride | yet : ere din\ner time\.' 1 Hen. i, 3. 3." The "yet" is plainly an interpolation, (The old eds. read "Have thirty miles," &c.) Vol. i. p. 250 ; " ' The morn\ini/ comes | ?(j)on | us : ivc'll leave | you, Bru\tus.' Jul. Cm. 2, 1." xxiv PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. The folio of 1623 has, what the author doubtless wrote, " The morning comes upon's : we'll leave you, Brutus.'' Vol. i. p. 251 ; " ' Who wears | my stripes | impress'cl | on him : taho \ must bear | My beating to tlie grave.' Oor. 5, 6." Misquoted. In the folio of 1623 the passage stands thus ; " and his own. notion, Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him, that Must bear my beating to his grave, shall join To thrust the He unto liim.'' Vol. i. p. 299 ; " ' But room\, fa\e7y : here comes Oheron. And here my mistress, would that he was [were] gone 1' M. N. D. 2, 1." In this passage the substitution of the trisyllabic archaism ''faery" for the "fairy" of the old editions is a most daring and ridiculous device to eke-out the metre of a line from which a word has evidently escaped. Shakespeare, of course, always writes "fairy" and "fairies" as dissyllables; which words occur more than twenty times in the pla:y now quoted. Vol. i. p. 803 ; " ' In [For] that it sav'd me, keep it. In like necessity, Which Oocl protect thee from : it may | protect | thee\! Per. •>, 1." Who would suppose that the second of these lines stands thus in the old editions, " The which the gods protect thee. Fame may defend thee"? Let me dismiss the subject of Shakespeare's metre with this remark : — it has sometimes happened that limping lines in our early dramatists, which had appeared more than sus- picious to all except the sworn defenders of a very loose versification (who even recognised in them an " elegant retar- PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xxv dation" or "a pause filling up the place of a syllable"), have heen found at last to be mutilated, on the discovery of quartos "with a correcter text. Though the frequent occurrence of my friend Mr. W. N. Lettsom's name in the notes is a sufficient proof that I am greatly indebted to him, it by no means shows the full ex- tent of my obligations ; for on every one of the plays he has favoured me with not unimportant suggestions, of which I have silently availed myself. I have to return my thanks to Mr. Bolton Corney and to my fellow-labourer Mr. J. 0, HalliweU for some useful infor- mation, bibliographical and biographical ; to Mr. Swynfen Jervis, not only for various ingenious conjectures, but also for the very kind interest he has taken in my work ; and to Mr. Robson, the printer of the present edition, for again ren- dering me those services which I had occasion to acknowledge at the close of my former Preface. ALEXANDER DYCE. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OE 1857. Peevious to the publication of the folio edition of Shake- speare's dramatic works in 1623 under the auspices of his fellow-actors Heminge and Condell, seventeen of his plays had appeared in quarto at various dates, — viz. King Richard the Second, King Richard the Third, Romeo and Juliet, Love's Labour's lost, The First Part of King Henry the Fourth, The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth, King Henry the Fifth, The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer-Night's Dream, Much Ado about Nothitig, Titus Andronicus, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Hamlet, King Lear, Troilus and Cressida, Pericles, and Othello. As I have elsewhere enumerated the different impressions of those quartos (see List of Editions in vol. i.), and incidentally noticed their peculiarities (in my introduc- tions to the various plays), I need only observe here, that, though they found their way to the press without the consent either of the author or of the managers, it is certain that nearly all of them were printed, with more or less correctness and completeness, from transcripts of MS. copies belonging to the theatre. The folio of 1623 includes, with the exception of Peri- cles, the plays which had previously appeared in quarto, and twenty others which till then had remained in manuscript. The title-page of the volume runs thus, — Mr. William Shalte- speares Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies. Published accord- ing to the True Originall Copies : and in a prefatory address VOL. I. B 2 PREFACE TO THE EDITION OP 1857. " To the Great Variety of Eeaders,"! the editors annotmce what they haye done in the following terms : "It had been a thing, we confess, worthy to have been wished, that the author himself had lived to have set forth and overseen his own writ- ings. But, since it hath been ordained otherwise, and he by > Attributed by Malone and otbers to Ben Jonson. — In Notes and Queries, Sec. Series, vol. iii. p. 8, Mr. Bolton Corney expresses Ms conviction that Edward Blount " was tbe real editor" of tbe folio of 1623 : and on that sub- ject he has recently favoured me with several communications, of which I regret that the limits of a note prevent me from giving more than the follow- ing portions. "For some years before I ventured to ascribe the editorship of the entire volume to Edward Blount, it had been my firm notion that the two paragraphs of which the address ' To the Great Variety of Readers' consists could not have been written by the same person. The affectation of smart- ness, and the anxiety to vend, which disfigure the first paragraph, are utterly unlike the sober criticism and earnestness of feeUng which form the substance of the second. What had Ben Jonson to do with the sale of the volume ? What had Heminge and Condell to do with it after the transfer of the copy- right? The persons chiefly interested in the sale of it were W. Jaggard, Ed. Blount, J. Smethwick, and W. Aspley ; and as Blount had taken up the pen, on various occasions, for more than twenty years, — sometimes writing in a scholar-like way, and sometimes fantastically , — to him I am inclined to ascribe the first paragraph of the address. To Heminge and CondeU I assign the rest, — and I admire the spirit of it." After enumerating various works edited by Blount, and among them the Ars Aulica of Lorenzo Ducci, 1607, which he dedicated to William Earl of Pembroke and Philip Earl of Mont- gomery as an expression of his " particular dutie," — Mr. Corney asks, " Can it be conceived that the other proprietors [of the folio Shakespeare, 1623] would not have urged him to edit the volume ? Could he decently refuse the office of editor? He had, moreover, a threefold motive to accept it: — 1. As a fulfilment of his ' particular dutie' to the noble brothers to whom the volume is dedicated ; 2. As one of the printers of the volume, and therefore in part responsible for its due execution ; and 3. As one of the four publishers at whose charges the volume was printed." Mr. Corney also suggests that Blount may have had some influence in procuring the commendatory poems prefixed to the volume. The verses by Hugh Holland were not composed for the occasion ; but those by I. M. (James Mabhe) would certainly seem to have been written at the desii-e of Blount, who, in 1628, edited and published Mabbe's translation of Guzman dc Alfarache (see note on Mabbe's verses, p. 165 of the present vol.) ; and such, too, may have been the case with respect to the verses by Ben Jonson and Leonard Digges, both of whom contributed lines to the romance just mentioned. When Mr. Comey ascribes to Blount the editorship of the first folio, he, of course, does not mean that Blount had any concern in selecting the mate- rials of which it consists, but that Blount undertook to see thi-ough the press the " copy" (a jumble of printed books and manuscripts) which Heminge and Condell had handed over to him : — and how was that task performed ? with a carelessness almost unexampled ! PREFACE TO THE KDlTiON OF 1857. 3 •death departed from ttat right, we pray you do not envy his friends the office of their care and pain, to have collected and published them ; and so to have pitblished them as tohere (be- Jvre) you ivere abused tvith divers stolen and surreptitious ■copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors that exposed them, even those are noiu ■offered to your vieio cured and perfect of their limbs, and all ■the rest absolute in their numbers as he conceived them; who, as he was a happy imitator of nature, was a most gentle ex- presser of it : his mind and hand went together; and what he thought, he uttered with that easiness, that we have scarce received from him a blot in his papers." But, as Malone long ago remarked, this statement concerning' the imperfec- tions of the quartos one and all " is not strictly true of any but two of the whole number. The Merry Wives of Windsor and King Henry V. ;"^ and " the quartos were in general the basis on which the folio editors built."'' It is demonstrable that Heminge and Condell printed Much Ado about Nothing from the quarto of 1600, omitting some short portions and words here and there, and making some trivial changes, mostly for the worse : — that they printed Love's Labour's lost from the quarto of 1598, occasionally copying the old errors of the press ; and though in a few instances they corrected the text, they more frequently corrupted it ; spoilt the con- tinuity of the dialogue in act iii. sc. 1, by omitting several lines, and allowed the preposterous repetitions in act iv. sc. 3, and act v. sc. 2,* to stand as in the quarto : — that their text of A Midsummer-Night's Dream was mainly taken from Ko- berts's quarto,' — by much the inferior of the two quartos of 1600, — its blunders being sometimes followed; and though they amended a few passages, they introduced not a few bad ' I need hardly oTjeerve that the quarto of Hamlet, 1603, which was un- known to Malone, does not form a thia-d exception ; for it was entirely super- seded hy the quarto of 1604. " Preface to Shakespeare, 1790. ' See notes on Love's Labour's lost. 4 PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857. variations, to say nothing of their being chargeable with som& small omissions : — that for The Merchant of Venice they used Hayes's quarto, 1600, retaining a good many of its mis- prints ; and though in some places they improved the text^ their deviations from the quarto are generally either objec- tionable readings or positive errors : — that in King Richard II. they chiefly adhered to the quarto of 1615, copying some of its mistakes ; and though they made one or two short addi- tions and some slight emendations, they occasionally cor- rupted the text, and greatly injured the tragedy by omitting sundry passages, one of which, in act i. sc. 3, extends to twenty-six lines :^ — that their text of The First Part of Kinrj Henry IV. is, on the whole, more faulty than that of the in- correct quarto of 1613, from which they printed the play: — ■ that their text ot King Richard III., — which materially differs^ from that of all the quartos, now and then for the better, but oftener perhaps for the worse, — was in some parts printed from the quarto of 1602, as several corresponding errors prove;, and though it has many lines not contained in any of the- quartos, it leaves out a very striking and characteristic portion of the 2d scene of act iv.,'' and presents passages here and: there which cannot be restored to sense without the assist- ance of the quartos : — that they formed their text of Troilus and Cressida on that of the quarto of 1609, from which some of their many blunders were derived ; and though they made important additions in several passages, they omitted other passages, sometimes to the destruction of the sense : — that in Hamlet, while they added considerably to the prose- dialogue in act ii. se. 2, inserted elsewhere lines and words which are wanting in the quartos of 1604, &c., and rectified = "Baling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make ******* The man that mocks at it and sets it light." « "Buck. My lord, — iiT. Rich. How chance the prophet could not at that time *.«*»«,, I am not in the giving vein to-day." PREFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857. 5 various mistakes of those quartos ; they, — not to mention minor mutilations of the text, some of them accidental,—^ •omitted in the course of the play about a hundred and sixty verses (including nearly the whole of the 4th scene of act iv.), and left out a portion of the prose-dialogue in act v. sc. 2, besides allowing a multitude of errors to creep in passim :— that their text of Kiiig Lear, though frequently correct where "the quartos are incorrect, and containing various lines and words omitted in the quartos, is, on the other hand, not only often incorrect where the quartos are correct, but is mutilated to a surprising extent,- — the omissions, if we take prose and verse together, amounting to about two hundred and seventy lines, among which is an admirable portion of the 6th scene of the third act,^ as well as the whole of the 3d scene of act iv. : — but, not to weary the reader, I refrain from further details, though something might be added concerning their iext of The Second Part of King Henry IV., of Titus Andro- nicus, of Romeo and Juliet, and of Othello.^ In short, Hem- inge and Condell made up the folio of 1623, partly from those very quartos which they denounced as worthless, and partly from manuscript stage-copies, some of which had been de- praved, in not a few places, by the alterations and " botchery ■of the players,"" and awkwardly mutilated for the purpose of ' " Edg. The foul fiend Mtes my back. vfi y(i T^ vfi >fi False justicer, why hast thou let her scape ?" s I may just notice that in Othello's famous address to the Senate, de- scribing his courtship of Desdemona (who, as her father tells ue, was " a maiden never hold ; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself"), -the folio has " My story heing done, She gave ma for my pains a world of kisses : She swore, — in faith, 'twas strange," &c. (act i. sc. 3) ; which is certainly not a misprint, but an improvement introduced by some actor who thought that the older reading, " a world of siglis," was compara- tively tame. ^ Gifford, — note on Jonson's Works, v. 163. 6 PEEFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857. curtailing the pieces in representation.^" — For the strange in- consistency of such a procedure with what the editors of 1623- professed to do, Mr. W. N. Lettsom has perhaps satisfactorily accounted when he suggests, " that, in their eyes, autographs, transcripts to the third and fourth generation, and printed books, were all much on a level, if they were only used and sanctioned by their company."^^ — As to the original manu- scripts of Shakespeare's plays, it is altogether improbable that any of them (especially when we recollect thai the Globe Theatre was burned down in 1613) should have existed in 1623 : — we know, on the testimony of Sir Henry Herbert, Master of the Revels, that the original manuscript of The Winter's Tale, — one of our poet's latest compositions, — was- " missing" in August 1623.^^ The editor of the second folio, which appeared in 1632,. was alike ignorant of Shakespeare's phraseology and versifi- cation : hence he vitiated the text in numerous instances by capriciously altering what he did not understand, and by in- tei-polating words in lines where he thought the metre halted. All he did in the way of real correction was to set right some- of the more obvious mistakes of the first folio, while he left others as he found them, and not unfrequently substituted new errors for the old. — Since whatever changes he made were merely arbitraiy, — for he certainly never consulted manuscript copies of the plays, — the second folio cannot be considered as an independent authority. After what has been said, it is almost unnecessary to add that the text of this edition is eclectic. Mr. Collier justly "> With a lioldness of assertion similar to that of Shakespeare's earliest editors, — Humphrey Moseley, in an address " To the Headers," prefixed to the folio of Beaumont and Fletcher's Oomedies and Tragedies, 1647, declares,. " now you have both all that was acted, and aU that was not ; even the perfect full originals, without the least mutilation :" which is certainly not true with respect to two of the plays. The Humorous Lieutenant and The Honest Man's Fortune, and is prohably untrue with respect to many others. (See my ed.. of Beaumont and Fletcher's Works.) " Preface to Walker's Shakespeare'' s Versification, &c., p. xvii. " See Introduction to The Winter's Tale. PEEFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857. 7 remarks oi Hamlet, that "any editor who should content himself with reprinting the folio, without large additions from the quartos, would present but an imperfect notion of the drama as it came from the hand of the poet. The text of ' Hamlet' is, in fact, only to he obtained from a comparison of the editions in quarto and folio :"^^ and the remark is applicable to nearly all the other plays which were first printed in quarto ; for even when the quartos do not supply absolute deficiencies, and though in various passages they may be themselves defective or corrupt, they frequently en- able us to restore the language of Shakespeare where it has suffered from the tampering of the players.-"^* Of the modern editions of Shakespeare, from Eowe's to the most recent, I need make no mention here. But on the Emendations of Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector, which are still the subject of acrimonious dispute, I feel myself compelled to give an opinion : and, waving the question, for how much of that immense farrago the Corrector is really answerable, I am bound to say, that, with all his ignorance and rashness, — the far greater proportion of his novce lectiones being either " Introd. to Hamlet. '* That Home Tooke knew little or nothing of the quartos is manifest : if he had ever examined them even with ordinary attention, it is impossible that a man of Ms aouteness could have written ahout the folio in these extra- vagant terms : " The &-st Folio, in my opinion, is the only edition worth regarding. And it is much to be wished, that an edition of Shakespeare were given literatim according to the first Folio : which is now become so scarce and dear, that few persons can obtain it. For, by the presumptuous license of the dwarfish commentators, who are for ever cutting him down to their own size, we risque the loss of Shakespeare's genuine text ; which that Folio assuredly contains ; notwithstanding some few slight en-ors of the press, which might he noted, without altering." "EiieaUTepSeiiTa, &o,, vol. ii. 54, ed. 1829. Nor is Mr. Knight's encomium on the folio less extravagant : " Per- haps," he says, " all things considered, there never was a book so correctly printed as the first folio of Shakspere" (see first note on act iv. so. 5 of Troilus and Cressida) : yet throughout his editions Mr. Knight has veiy • great obligations to the quartos. Mr. Hunter gives the true character of the folio : " Perhaps in the whole annals of English typography there is no record of any hook of any extent and any reputation having been dismissed from the press with less care and attention than the first folio." Preface to New Illust. of Shakespeare, p. iv. 8 PEEFACE TO THE EDITION OP 1857. grossly erroneous or merely impertinent, — he yet deserves our thanks for having successfully removed some corruptions, and must be allowed the honour of having anticipated seve- ral happy conjectures of Theobald and others.-^' — Mr. Collier complains of the reception which the Emendations have met with in certain quarters ■}''' but, even granting that they have " 1863. But the tmanimons opinion now is, that the manuscript emenda- tions throughout Mr. Collier's folio, in spite of their antique appearance, are of modern date. See, among other puhlicatious on this subject, Mr. Hamil- ton's Inquirij into the Genuineness of the llanuscript Corrections in Mr. J. Payne Collier's Annotated Shakspere, &c. '" In his Preface to Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton hy Coleridge, &c., Mr. Collier writes at great length ahout those who have assailed the Emendations, — ahout theii' animosity to the Corrector and to himself; and, p. Ixvi., Bpealdng of what he conceives to be unfair dealing on the part of Mr. Singer, he says, "I dislike using hard words: all who are acquainted with me know that it has never been my practice ; but if I acquit Mr. Singer of intentional misrepresentation, the assertio falsi, how is he to answer the accusation oisuppressio veri? Of this minor offence proofs present them- selves to me," &c. Further on, after attempting to support the CoiTector's foolish alteration in King Henry the Eighth, act i. ec. 2, " I'm soixy that the Duke of Buckingham Is one in your displeasure," — Mr. Collier notices certain mistakes in early books which have arisen from "the inability of some people to sound the letter r," and then observes, p. Ixxxv., that " the most remarkable proof to the same effect occurs in JJ'eb- ster's 'Appius and Virginia' (Edit. Dyce, ii. 160), whei-c this passage is met with as it is printed in the old copy : ' Let not Virginia wate her contemplation So high, to call this visit an intrusion.' It is clear that ' wate' must be wrong, and the editor suggests waie (i.e. weigh) as the fit emendation ; when he did not see that it is only a blunder of w for )•, because the person who delivered the hue could not pronounce the let- ter )• : read rate for ' wate,' and the whole difficulty vanishes." Now, in my edition of Webster the passage stands verbatim thus ; " Let not Virginia rate her contemplation So high, to call this visit an intrusion :" and with the following note ; "rate^ So the editor of 1816. The old copy, ' loate.' Qy. it a misprint for ' loaie,' i. e. weigh." Yet Mr. Collier,— who charges Mr. Singer with want of candour-,— most care-- fuUy conceals the fact that " rate" is the reading in my text of Webster. 1863. In a note in his second edition of Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 375 Mr. Collier, speaking of this passage of Webster, absolutely asserts that the reading " rate" never occui-red to any one except himself. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OP 1857. 9 not always been fairly criticised, he has himself, in a measure, to blame. He went far to create a prejudice against, if not to provoke a spirit of opposition to, the Corrector's labours en masse, when, in the commentary with which he encumbered them, he advocated hundreds of the most unnecessary changes ever devised by perverse ingenuity; and when, moreover, from his limited knowledge of what conjecture had attempted on the poet's text during the eighteenth century, he paraded as novelties a number of alterations already to be found in the editions of Pope, of Hanmer, and elsewhere. — It would seem that Mr. Collier's judgment, nay, his recollection of the phrase- ology of our old writers, was at times affected by his blind admiration of the Corrector. E.g. In The Two Gentlemen ■of Verona, act iv. sc. 2, the first folio has " Her eyes are grey as glass," &o. ; on which line Theobald aptly cites from Chaucer, " hire eyen c/rey as glas." But the second folio, by a misprint, has " Her eyes are grey as grass," &c. The Corrector, — who used the second folio, — not perceiving that the error lay in the word "grass," altered the unoffend- ing epithet "grey" to "green," — " Her eyes are r/reen as grass,'' &c. ; " and such," says Mr. Collier, " ive have good reason to sup- pose tvas the true reading ;" though a little before he admits that the first folio "may be right." In The Second Part of King Henry the Fourth, act iv. sc. 1, the old copies have " and youi tongue divine To a loud trum]oet and a point of war.'' The Corrector substitutes " and your tongue divine To a loud trumpet and report of war ;" which Mr. Collier declares "ought to be printed in future," for " here ' point of war' can have no meaning :" yet Mr. Col- 10 PEEFACE TO THE EDITION OF 1857. lier formerly edited an early drama wliich contains the follow- ing passage ; " Matrevers, thou Soimd proudly here a perfect ^oiJit of war In honour of thy sovereign's safe return." Peele's Edioarcl I., — Dodsley's Old Plays, vol. xi. 13, ed. CoUier. But enough of the Ms. Corrector's Emendations, with their particles of golden ore and their abundant dross. When, at the desire of Mr. Moxon, I undertook this edi- tion of Shakespeare, — with a reluctance arising from the con- viction that, even if it proved not wholly unacceptable to others, it must fail to satisfy myself, — the arrangement was, that I should merely revise the text, without adding notes of any kind. But it soon became evident that, though notes explanatory of words, manners, customs, &c. might not be essentially necessary (for with such matters the reader is often as conversant as the editor^^), yet notes regarding the formation of the text were indispensable. Hence it is, that an edition originally meant to be entirely free from annota- tion comprises a considerable quantity of notes '}^ — in disjoin- ing which from the text, and placing them at the end of each play respectively, I have consulted the taste of those who have little relish for the minutiae of verbal criticism. It was also originally understood between the publisher and myself, that I should not be required to supply the memoir of Shakespeare intended to accompany the present edition : circumstances, however, which it is needless to ex- plain, eventually imposed on me that ungrateful task. Owing to the scantiness of materials for his history, and to our ignor- ance of what we most wish to know concerning him, a Life of Shakespeare, in spite of its subject, is generally among the least readable efforts of the biographer : and I cannot but " 1863. In the above remark I hare been thought to overrate the know- ledge of the general reader ; and hence the Glossary to the present edition. " 1863. Now enlarged to more than double the number. PREFACE TO THE EDITION OP 1857. 11 feel that, if my own memoir of the poet has any claim to another character, it is solely on account of its comparative shortness. I have to return my hest thanks to Mr. W. N. Lettsom for the extracts from the late Sidney Walker's unpublished papers on Shakespeare, as well as for his own critical re-^ marks, with which from time to time he furnished me ; to Mr. John Forster, for much kind and judicious advice on various points of difficulty; and to Mr. Singer, for his prompt assistance whenever I had occasion to request it : nor ought I to conclude without acknowledging my obligations to Mr.. Eobson, from whose press the present edition comes forth, not only for the care he has bestowed in revising the sheets with an eye to verbal correctness, but for innumerable sug- gestions during the whole progress of the work. A. DYCE. December 18S7. SOME ACCOUNT LIFE OF SHAKESPEAKE. "All that is known witli any degree of certainty, con- cerning Shakespeare, is — tliat lie was born at Stratford- npon-ATon — married and had children there — went to London, where he commenced actor, and wrote poems and plays — returned to Stratford, made his will, died, and was buried."^ Such is the remark made long ago by one of the most acute of his commentators : and even at the present day, — notwithstanding some addi- tional notices of Shakespeare which have been more recently discovered, — the truth of the remark can hardly fail to be felt and acknowledged by all, except by professed antiquaries, with whom the mere mention of a name in whatever kind of document assumes the character of an important fact.^ 1 Note by Steevens on Shakespeare's xoiii'' Sonnet. ^ " All that insatiable curiosity and unwearied diligence have hitherto detected about Shakespeare serves rather to disappoint and perplex us, than to furnish the slightest illustration of his character. It is not the register of his baptisio, or the di-aft of his wiU, or the orthography of his name that we seek. No letter of Ms writing, no record of his conver- sation, no character of him drawn with any fullness by a contemporary has been produced. — Note. I am not much inclined to qualify this para- graph in consequence of the petty circumstances relating to Shakespeare 14 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE Shakespeares abounded inWarwicksliire : they were settled there as early as the fourteenth century ; and, soon after, they spread themselves, in various branches, through the country : but genealogical inquiry has as 3^et been able to throw little light on the pedigree of the dramatist. — We have every reason to believe that his father, John Shakespeare, was the son of Eiehard Shakespeare, a substantial farmer at Snitterfield.^ In 1552 we find John Shakespeare resident in Henley- street,* Stratford-upon-Avon ; but his employment at that period is not recorded. In 1556 he was carrying on the business of a glover.^ He did not, however, con- fine himself to glove-makiag, — he was also engaged in — . ^ ■wliicli liave been lately brought to light, and wHcb rather confirm than otherwise what I have said." Hallam's Introd. to the Liter, of Europe, ii. 176, ed. 1843. '' Three miles from Stratford. — Richard Shakespeare of Snittei-field was a tenant of Robert Arden, whose daughter John Shakespeare married : at Snitterfield, too, lived a Henry Shakespeare ; and John Shakespeare had a brother named Henry. (Mr, Collier first ofiered the conjectm-e, that Richard Shakespeare was the poet's grandfather.) * As is shown by a Court Roll, dated April 29th, 1552, in the Carlton Ride Record Ofiice : "Item [juratores] praesent. super saoramentum suum c^uod Humfr-udus Reynoldes (xij.*) Adrianus Quyney (xij.'') et Johannes Shakyspere (xij."') fecerunt sterquinaiium in vico vocato Hendley Strata contra ordinationem cmise. Ideo ipsi in misericordia, ut patet." " Tills is proved by the following extract from the register of tlie proceedings of the bailiflf 's court ; — at least, there seems to be httle or no doubt that the " Johannem Shakyspere" mentioned ui it was tlie^ father of the poet ; " Stretford, ss. Cur. Philippi et Marije, Dei gratia regis et reginse AngliiE, Hispaniarum, &c. secimdo et tercio, ibidem tent, die Marcurii, videlicet xvij° die Junii, anno prEedicto [1566] , coram Johartoi Bui'bage baHivo, &c. " Thomas Siche de Arscotte in com. Wigorn. queritur versus Johan- nem Shakyspere de Stretford in com. Warwici glover in placito quod redd, ei octo libras," &c. (i.e. Thomas Siche brings an action against John Sliakespeare (/lover for the sum of £8.) LIFE OP SHAKESPEABE. 15 agricultural pursuits :^ and it would seem that even- tually he abandoned the glove-trade entirely ; for he is styled "yeoman" in a deed dated 1579,— his name occurs in a list of " the gentlemen and freeholders^ in Barlichway hundred, 1580, — and he is again called " yeoman" in a deed dated January 1596-7. — ^Accord- ing toAubrey,he was "abutcher;"^ according toEowe, " a considerable dealer in wool :"® and perhaps these several traditions are not utterly at variance either with each other or with what has been just mentioned ; for if he was a yeoman, he might have raised for the market both sheep and cattle, which might occasionally have been killed on his own premises; and, in that case, he would have had wool to sell. But such an hypothesis is imsatisfactory : and, as John Shakespeare appears to have tried sundry occupations, it is not unlikely that at one period he was a butcher,^ and at another a wool- stapler. ^ In 1556 lie brought an action against a certain Henry Fyld [Field] for unjustly detaining eigliteen quarters of barley (" quae ei injuste detinet") ; and in 1564 lie was paid by tlie Corporation " for a pec tymbur iijs." ^ " His [William Shakespeare's] father was a butcher." Aubrey's Mas. Mas. AsJimol. Oxon. — What Aubrey immediately adds to these words will be afterwards cited.- — We shall presently see, too, — and it is not a little remarkable, — that in 1603, the parish-clerk of Stratford, who was then more than eighty years old, asserted that our poet was "bound apprentice to a butcher." ^ Life of Shakespeare. ° " Balph Gawdrey, one of the aldermen of Stratford, at the tune our poet was born, was a biiteJier, and was bailiff of the borough the very year before Mr. John Shakespeare filled that office.'' Malone's Life of 16 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE On April SOtli, 1557, he was marked one of tlie jury of the coiu-t leet, bnt not sworn ; and on Sept. 30th, 1558, he was one of a like jury. In the former year he was also appointed an ale-taster ; and soon after Michaelmas he was chosen a burgess. On Sept. oOth, 1558, and again on Oct. 6th, 1559, he was elected constable. On the day last mentioned, and again in May 1561, he was made an affeeror. In Sept. 1561, he was elected one of the chamberlains, and filled the office two years. On July 4th, 1565, he was chosen an alderman. From Michaelmas 1568 to Michaelmas 1569 he served as high-bailiff. On Sept. 5th, 1571, he was elected chief alderman for the ensu- ing year. — It may be added that in those days few of the Corporation of Stratford could write their names, and that among the markmen was John Shakespeare. He married Mary, 1" the youngest daughter of Eobert Sliahespeare, p. 71. Malone, however, thiiiks that in Auhrey's account John Shakespeare and his son William have heen confounded T\ith Thomas Shahespeare, a butcher at Wuruncl-, and his son John, who ia March 1609-10 was bound apprentice to William Jaggard the stationer, and who was admitted to his freedom May 22, 1617", &c. : but it is altogether luJikely that tradition should have mistaken the far-famed di-amatist for Jaggard's insignificant apprentice. 1° She was the youngest of the seven daughters of Robert Arden by his first wife, whose maiden name is not Imown. His second wife, Agnes Arden, was the widow of a person named Hill : her maiden name was Webbe. — 1863. I have not altered this note (which is founded on the researches of the late Joseph Hunter) : but I am now oiven to un- derstand that it most probably contains at least one mis-statement. The exact truth must be left for those to discover who are more sldlful in tracing pedigrees than myself. LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE. 16' Arden, of Wilmecote," then deceased; who, though described in documents of the time as " hnsbandman," appears to have been a considerable landed proprietor.^^ 1^ " A hamlet, partly in tlie parish of Stratford, and partly in Aston Cantlowe." Halliwell's Life of ShalceBXieare, p. 7, folio ed. ^2 1863. "Wliat follows is extracted from Tlte Herald and Oenealogist, Part vi. " But even as regards the Ardens all is not so clear as has been imagined. The Ardens of Wihncote are unnoticed hy the historian of AVarwickshire, or by his editor. Dr. Thomas. Had they been gentry, it is probable that some epitaph or other memorial of them would have occurred at the place of their residence. They were attached by Malone to the main tree of the Warwicksliire Ardens, who appear in the Visita- tions as ha'sdng descended from Robert, a younger brother of John Arden or Arderne, of ParMiall, in the parish of Ctu'dworth, who was ' squire for the body to King Henry VII.' Mr. Hunter accepted that affiliation.* Having found the names of Thomas and Robert Arden at Wilmcote in some papers relating to taxation among the Exchequer records, he remarks, ' Let any one observe the date of this will (that of John Arden, esquire for the body to Henry the Seventh), which is June 4, 1526, and bear in mind that Robert Arden, of Wilmecote, loas a gentleman, and entitled to the same coat-armour which this testator used, and he may be disposed to come to the conclusion that the Thomas and Robert Arden of Wilmecote, of 1524, are the two brothers of that name mentioned in the will, and that this Robert, or another Robert, the son of Thomas or Robert, is the Robert Arden of Wihne- cote, who made his will in 1556, and left a good amount of property to his youngest daughter, Mary Arden, one of his co-heh-essee, who in the next year became the wife of John Shakespeare.' (p. 34.) Again, in p. 35, ' But though we owe nothing to the heralds for the line of Arden of Wilmecote beyond the assertion that they were gentlemen of wor- ship, and entitled to the ancient arms of Arden, we receive at their hands,' &c. Malone had discovered, and published, the grants made by Henry VII. to a Robert Arden, who is described in the patents as units gar- cioniim camem nostrce. They consisted of the keepership of two parks, and a gift of the manor of Yoxall in Staffordsliire ; but Mr. Hunter himself suggests, ' That those grants to Arden which Mr. Malone has published belong to Arden of Wilmecote may be doubted, till some more decisive evidence is produced.' (p. 37.) " See his ' New Illustrations of Shakespeare,' 1845, vol. i. pp. 38-43.' VOL. 1. C 1&> SOME ACCOUNT OF THE The marriage, it would seem, took place towards tlie close of 1557 ; for Mary Arden was unmarried on Nov. Had Mr. Hunter turned to tlie parish of Yoxall, in Shaw's History of Staffordshire, he would have found still further reason to doubt the identity of the grantee of Yoxall, and the yeoman of Wilmcote. The epitaphs of the Ardens in the church of Yoxall there printed come down as late as the year 1783: and one of them (dated 1729), which com- mences — Near this Monument, in the bnrying-place of the Family since their coming to Longcroft, lie the remains of Henkt Akden, esq. of the antient and worthy Family of the Ardens of WarwicksMre, — is accompanied hy the Warwickshire coat, viz. Ermine, a fess chequy gules and azure.'"' Further, in p. 102 of the same work will be found the pedigree of Arden of Longcroft, in the parish of Yoxall, deduced from Simon Arden, second son of Thomas Arden, of Parkliall, co. 'War- wick, esq. down to the Rev. John Arden, ' now living at Longcroft, and minister of King's Bromley,' whose youngest son had been bom in March, 1790. The said Simon, at the head of the pedigree, is styled ' Symon Arden esquire at the subsidy gathered in 32 Eliz. (1590). f On the other hand, the researches of Mr. Payne Colher have detennined the contem- porary status of the Ardens of Wilmcote. In two deeds, bearing date 1550, Robert Arden, of WUmoote, appears only a 'husbandman,' — 'Ro- bertus Arden de WUmecote in paroohia de Aston Cantlowe in comitatu Warwioi, hushandman.' Life of ShaJcespeare, IBii, p. Ixxiii. Yet neither Mr. Collier, nor Mr. Halliwell, nor any other of the re- cent biographers, has proceeded to doubt the engrafting of the Ardens of Wilmcote upon the great house commemorated in the Visitations ; which engrafting, as we have remarked, was done by Malone, and not questioned by Hunter. The latter relied upon the assertion of the heralds (in the grants of arms to Shakespere) that ' Robert Ai-den was a gentleman,' and ' entitled to the same coat-armour' as John Arden, Esq., who died in 1526. We now find that he was a liushamhnan,\ and on » " Shaw's History of Staffordshire, vol. i. p. 100." f " Ibid. p. 99." + " The wills of Kobert Ai-den and of Agnes his widow hare been found, and were pubhshed, the fonner by Malone, the latter by Hunter. They are given, more hterally, by HaUiwell, Life of Shakespeare, 8vo, 1848, pp. 6, 12. Neither document presents evidence of a status in society higher than that of the ' husbandman.' " LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE. W 24tli, 1556, the date of her father's will (which was proved on the 16th of the Dec. following), and her first child, Joan, was baptized Sept. I5th, ]558, — her first child, at least, of whom there is mention in the Stratford baptismal registers, which do not commence till March of that year. Mary Arden inherited, under her father's will, a small estate at "Wilmecote called Ashbies,^^ and the sum of six pounds, thirteen shillings, and four-pence : she also brought to her husband the interest in two tenements at Snitterfield ; and, besides the estate of Ashbies, she appears to have had an in- terest in certain other land at "Wilmecote.^* There can be little doubt that, during the earlier part of his career, John Shakespeare's circumstances were easy, though not afiluent. On October 2d, 1556, the copyhold of a house in Greenhill-street, and that . 60. 3 See p. 63. 92 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE speare of Stratford uppon Avon in the saied countie of "Warwick, gentleman, on thother parte," is dated July 24tli ; and for this purchase, the greatest he is known to have made, Shakespeare paid down four hundred and forty pounds. In a " Certificate of the names and arms of trained soldiers within the Hundred of Barlichway, eo. War-^ wick, taken at Alcester, before Sir Fulk Greville, Sir Edw. Greville, and Tho. Spencer," dated Sept. 23d,, 1605, "the name of William Shakespere occurs in the list of soldiers of the town of Eowington;"'*and (though ShakesjDcares ahounded in Warwickshire) it is by no- means unlikely that the said "William Shakespere" was our dramatist, who at that troubled period — some- what more than a month before the discovery of the Gunpowder Plot — may have joined a band of soldiers,, ready, in case of emergency, to defend the state. Our author's King Henry the Eighth would seem to have been produced not long after the accession of James, who is elaborately complimented towards the conclusion of the play f and his Macbeth, which, also contains a flattering allusion^ to the reigning * Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Scries, of the reign of James I. 1603-1010, edited by Mrs. Green, 1857, p. 234.— A writer in Tlie AtJie- natim for August loth, 1857, remarks on the above extract ; " The date is Septr. 23, 1605, the year of the Gunpowder Plot ; and the lists were possibly prepared through insti'uctions issued by Cecil in consequence of secret information as to the working of the plot in Warwickshu-e, the proposed head- quarters of the insurrection." s " Nor shall this peace sleep vdih her : but as when The bird of wonder dies," &c. * Act iv. sc. 1, ■ „ , T "and some I see That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry." LIFE OF SHAKESPEAEE. 93 monarcli, was probably brought upon the stage about 1606. — The tradition that King James, on some occa- sion, wrote with his own hand "an amicable letter"^ to Shakespeare, is not to be dismissed as altogether unworthy of credit. Mr. Collier cannot believe "that James I. should have so far condescended :"* but it is certain that the condescension of that monarch was frequently extreme, — his familiarity most unking- like. In the Accounts of Lord Harrington, Treasurer of the Chamber to James the First, we find : " Paid to John Hemingesuppon the councellswarr*, dated at "Whitehall, xx° die Mail 1613, for presentinge before the Princes Hignes [Charles], the La. Elizabeth, and the Prince Pallatyne Elector, fowerteene severall ^ " That most learned prince, and great patron of learning. King James tlie First, was pleased with Ms own hand to write an amicable letter to Mr. Shakespeare ; which letter, though now lost, remained long in the hands of Sir William D'Avenant, as a credible person, now living, can testify." Advertisement to Lintot's edition' of Shahespeares Poems, 1710. — Oldys, in a Ms. note on his copy of Fuller's Worthies, states that the Duke of Buckingham [SheflSeld] told Lintot that he had seen the letter in the possession of Sir William Davenant, The late Mr. Boswell (Malone's Shakespeare, ii. 481, ed. 1821) printed, from a vol. of Ms. Poems in his possession, four lines entitled " Shake- speare upon the King :" but an earlier copy of them in the Ashmolean Museum, Ms. No. 38 (see Halliwell's Life of Shakespeare, p. 160, folio ed.), gives the name of their real author, — "Mr. Robert Barker, his Majestis printer." * Life of Shakespeare, p. ccxiv. first ed. : altered to " that James I. should have so done" in Mr. Collier's sec. ed. p. 183. — Here, in my former edition, I cited from Cunningham's Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, &c. (printed for the Shakespeare Society), pp. 203, 204, 205, 210, several entries to "prove how highly the dramas of Shakespeare were relished at the court of James." But there is now not the slightest doubt that those entries are gross forgeries : see them. in Appendix, No. VII. VOL. I. H 94 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE playes, yiz Much Adoe abowte Nothinge'" . . . the Tempest .... the Winter's Tale, S'' John Falstafe p. e. The Merry Wives of Windsor], the Moore of Venice .... Caesar's Tragedye [most probably Shake- speare's Julius Caesar] .... all which playes weare played within the tyme of this accompte, viz. p*^ the some of iiij. (xx.) xiij.Z?'. vj.s. viij.c?."^' And a con- siderably later entry in the Accounts of the Treasurer of the Chamher runs thus ; "To John Heminges, &c., upon a warrant dated 20 April 1618, for present- ing two severall Playes before his Ma'y, on Easter Monday Twelfte night the play soe called, and on Easter Tuesday the Winter's Tale, xx"."i2— If the documents just cited had reached us in a completer state, it is likely that they would have furnished other notices of our author's dramas. On June 5th, 1607, Shakespeare's eldest daughter, Susanna, was married to John Hall, a medical practi- tioner settled at Stratford, and in good repute through- out Warwickshire and the neighbouring counties : — of whom and his wife there will be further mention. — On Dec. 31st of the same year Shakespeare's brother Edmund was interred at St. Saviour's, Southwark, the burial register declaring him to have been a "player," —belonging doubtless to the Globe and Blackfriars company ; and, as the fact of his having been on the 1" A subsequent entiy in tlie same volume mentions Much Ado about Kotliing under the, title oi Bciiedicli and Beatrix. " Eawlinson's Coll. A. 239. Bodl. Lib. 12 C-a.unin^ia,iLi\'s Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, &o., Inti'od. p. xlv. LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE. 05 stage is ascertained from no other source, it is clear that he never was distinguished in his profession. The birth of Elizabeth Hall (the only child of her parents), who was baptized Feb. 21st, 1607-8, made our poet a grandfather. — On the 9th of the following September his mother, Mary Shakespeare, — at the age, we may presume, of something more than seventy, — was laid in the grave at Stratford, seven years and a day after the burial of her husband. Mr. Collier^ ^ supposes that they had both formed part of the house- hold at 'New Place : but John Shakespeare most pro- bably died in his freehold tenement in Henley Street, which he certainly occupied as late as January 1596-7;^* ■and there too, most probably, his wife had continued to reside till her decease. — On the 1 6th of the next month Shakespeare was sponsor for a boy named Wil- liam Walker,^* whom he remembers in his will by a legacy of "xx.5. in gold."^^ Three editions of King Lear, all printed for the same bookseller, in 1608, attest the high celebrity which Shakespeare had now acquired as a dramatist. •'^ Life of Shaliespeare, p. 185, sec. ed. 1' See latter part of note 30, p. 25. 1^ His father, Henry Wallcer, was olioseu an alderman, January 3d, 1605-6. ^^ See,*m Appendix, No. VIII., the Copy (vera copia) of a Letter •signed H.S., wliicli, according to Mr. Collier, wlio discovered it among tlie EUesmere Papers, was written by Lord Southampton, and relates to an attempt made in 1608 by the Coi'poration of London to expel the players from the liberty of the Blackfriars :' but it is a manifest fabrica- •tion. See, too, in Appendix, No. IX., a document headed "For avoid- ing of the playhouse in the Blacke Friers" — another of the EUesmere Papers, and neither an original nor a copy of the time. ^e SOME ACCOUNT OF THE We learn from tlie records of Stratford that in Angnst 1608 lie brought an action against John Ad- denbroke for the recovery of a debt, — that, after a delay of several months, a verdict was given in his favour for 6/., and 11. 4s. costs ; and that, the defend- ant having been returned as " non inventus," Shake- speare proceeded against Thomas Horneby, who had become bail for Addenbroke. The latest date recorded in this action is June 7th, 1609. ^^ The sonnet, first introduced into our literature by Lord Surrey, was much cultivated during the reigns of Elizabeth and James ; and it seems occasionally to have employed the pen of Shakespeare several years be- fore 1598, when " his sugred Sonnets among his private friends" were mentioned by Meres in a passage of the Palladis Tamia^ &c. which has been abeady quoted-^' At length, in 1609, a volume containing one hundred and fifty-four Sonnets, the undoubted productions of Shakespeare, was given to the public by a bookseller who evidently had not obtained them from the author himself. — The greater portion of these Sonnets is ad- dressed to a youth ; and the kind of impassioned friend- ship which some of them profess can only surprise a reader unacquainted with the manners of the time : it was then not uncommon for one man to write verses to another in a strain of such tender affection as fully 1^ " A brief noat taken out of the poores booke," &c., -vrMch was found by Mr. Collier at Dulwicb College, and whicb I inserted here in the former edition of this Memoir, is now removed to the Appendix, No. X., having been condemned as a modem invention. " See p. 71. LIFE OP SHAKESPEARE. 97 ■warrants our terming them amatory ; and even in the epistolary correspondence between two grave and elderly gentlemen friendship used frequently to borrow the language of love. — "Who was the youth in question, . conjecture has long been labouring to discover.^® Ac- cording to the bookseller's Dedication/" "the only be- getter" of the Sonnets was "Mr. W. H." Tyrwhitt, ■comparing these initials with a line of the xx* Sonnet, which stands thus in the quarto, " A man in hew all Hews in his controwling,'' imagined that the mysterious personage was a "W. Hughes : and, more recently, Boaden exerted great ingenuity to show that " W. H." meant William Her- bert, Earl of Pembroke, — a supposition which is almost at once refuted by the extreme improbability that the bookseller would have presumed to address the Earl as " Mr. "W. H." How different was the language of . Heminge and Condell, when, in 1623, they dedicated the first folio of Shakespeare's plays to that very Earl of Pembroke and the Earl of Montgomery I " We have," they say, "but collected them [the plays], ^^ There being no bounds to the folly of a critic, George Chalmers maintaiaed that Queen Elizabeth was typified by the poet's masculine friend! — 1863. I have now to add, that Mr. FuUom thinks it probable that a certain number of the Sonnets were addressed to Queen Eliza- beth. " True," he observes, " one of these sonnets salutes its object as 'sweet love,' which creates a difficulty; but the Queen allowed great latitude on this point, and in the next stanza [sonnet] Shakespeare acknowledges that his Muse is a ' saucy bark' " ! History of William Sliahespeare, &c. p. 279. I'' "To the only begetter of these ensuing Sonnets, Mr. W. H., all happi- ness, and that eternity promised hy our ever-living poet, uisheth the well- uishing adventurer in setting forth, T. T\Jiorpe\." 98 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE and done an office to the dead, to procure his orphans guardians ; without ambition either of self-profit or fame ; only to keep the memory of so worthy a friend and fellow alive as was our Shakespeare, hy humble offer of his ijlays to your most nolle patronage. Wherein, as we have justly observed no man to come near your L.L. hut with a kind of religious address, it hath been the height of our care, who are the presenters, to make the present worthy of your H. H. by the perfection. But there we must also crave our abilities to be considered, my lords. We cannot go beyond our own powers. Country hands reach forth milk, cream, fruits, or what they have ; and many nations, we have heard, that had not gums and incense, obtained their requests with a leavened cake. It was no faidt to approach their gods by what means they could : and the most, though mean- est, of things are made more precious when they are dedicated to temples. In that name, therefore, we most humbly consecrate to your H. H. these remains of your servant Shakespeare,'''' (fec.^" — For my own part, repeated perusals of the Sonnets have well nigh convinced me,, 2" Slialcesx>eare s Autohio/jraphical Poems. Beinr/ Ids Sonnets clearly develojoed : tiith Jtis cliaracter drawn chiefly from Ms ivories. By Charles Armitage Brown, appeared in 1838. ]Mr. Brown adopts Boaden's hypo- thesis, that Mr. W.H. is the Earl of Pembroke ; and he thinks that the Sonnets ought to be divided into Six Poems, each Poem consisting of a certain number of Stanzas (Sonnets) : " FiEST Poem. Stanzas 1 to 26. To his friend, persuading him to marry. Second Poem. Stanzas 27 to 55. To his friend, tvho had robbed th& poet of his mistress, forgiving him. Thibd Poem. Stanzas 56 to 77. To his friend, complaining of his coldness, and ^mrning him of life's decay. FouETH Poem. Stanzas 78 to 101. To his friend, complaining that LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE. 99: tllat most of them were composed in an assumed cha- racter, on different subjects, and at different times, for he prefers another poet's praises, and reproving him for faults that may injure his character. FiPiH Poem. Stanzas 103 to 126. To his friend, excusing himself for. having been some time silent, and disclaiming the charge af inconstancy . Sixth Poem. Stanzas 127 to 152. To his mistress, on her infidelity." (The two sonnets which close the collection he, of course, considers as quite foreign to aU that precedes.) From this examination of the Sonnets Shakespeare unfortunately does not come out spotless ; for it ascertains that he had a mistress in London, whUe he had a wife at Stratford. " May no persons,'' says JMr. Brown, "be inclined, on tliis account, to condemn him with a bitterness equal to their own virtue ! For myself, I confess I have not the heart to blame him at all, — purely because he so keenly reproaches liimself for liis own sin and folly." p. 98; Let us hope that, if a copy of the Sonnets reached Stratford, it was not read to Mrs. Shakespeare by some busy acquaintance : — that she herself could read, is not clear. A writer in The Westminster Sevieui for July 185^ is also a convert to Boaden's notion that Mr. W. H. is the Earl of Pembroke. " Does not the dedication," he says, " bear on the face of it a wish to conceal the person indicated, whoever he was, — plain commoner or peer of the realm? Wliy give only the initials, unless concealment was aimed at? The pub- lisher had no other method than the one he adopted. Mr. W. H. was vague enough for the world generally, but not too vague for those who Imew the Earl. Had the dedication ran [run] ' To the Earl of P., the only begetter,' &c., there would have been no secrecy, aad the publisher might as well have given the title at full, for the choice is so limited among noblemen whose initial letter is P., whereas the letters W. H. told just sufficient, and no more. The publisher was like the watchman in the ' Agamemnon ;' VlaBovatv avSu^ kov ^a&ovai K-fiBofiai ' and the reason is obvious : the sonnets" related pui'ely to private and personal matters, and were, in the iirst jplace, never meant to meet any one's eye but to whom \_sic'\ they were addressed." p. 123. All this is merely specious : the writer forgets that in those days noblemen were invariably treated by their inferiors With the most profound respect. Tlie Earl would hardly have forgiven the strange famiharity of such a dedication, however " vague it might be for the world generally:" and if the Sonnets "were never meant to meet any one's eye but his own," he had good reason to be offended with the publisher. 1863. A privately -printed tract, entitled The Sonnets of William 100 SOME ACCOUNT OP THE the amusement, if not at tlie suggestion, of the author's intimate associates (hence described by Meres as "his Shfilcspere : a critical Disquisition suggested hy a recent Discovery (1862), is put into my hands, by the kindness of its author, Mr. Bolton Corney, just as I am revising the present Memoir for a new edition. The " recent discovery" is that of M. PhUarete Chasles, Consei'vateur de la Bibho- theque Mazarine, and relates to the inscription which precedes our poet's Sonnets in the quarto of 1609, and which stands there (iu capital letters) with the following an'angement and punctuation : " To . the . onUe . begetter . of . These . insving . sonnets . Mr. W. H. all . happinesse . And . that . etemitie . Pi'omised . By. Ovr . ever-living . poet , Wisheth . The . weU-mshing . Adventvrer . in . Setting . Forth . T. T." Hitherto every reader of the above insciiption has gathered irom it that " T. T. dedicates the Sonnets toMr. W. H. ;" butM. Chasles has arrived at a very different conclusion : he determines — " 1. That ■n lords. Fr.ANOisoo, J Teinculo, a jester. Stephano, a drunken bntler. Master of a ship. Boatswain, and Mariners. Caliban, a savage and deformed slave. Miranda, daughter to Prospero. Ariel, an aii-y spirit. Iris, \ Ceres, Juno, Nymphs, Eeapers, presented by spirits. Other Spirits attending on Prospero. Scene —On board a ship at sea ; afterwards various parts of an island. THE TEMPEST. ACT I. Scene I. On hoard a ship at sea : a storm, with thunder and lightning. Enter Master and Boatswain severally. Mast. Boatswain ! Boats. Here, master : what cheer ? Mast. Good, speak to the mariners :'" fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves a-ground : bestir, bestir. {Exit. Enter Mariners. Boats. Heigh, my hearts ! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts ! yare, yare ! Take in the topsail ! Tend to the master's whistle ! [Exeunt Mariners.] — Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough ! Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and otiiers. Alon. Good boatswain, have care.''-'' Where's the master ? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. Ant, Where is the master, boatswain ? Boats. Do you not hear him ? You mar our labour : keep your cabins : you do assist the storm. Gon. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the sea is. Hence ! What care these roarers for the name of king ? To cabin : silence ! trouble us not. Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. 176 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor ; — if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more ; use your authority : if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. — Cheerly, good hearts ! — Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gon. I have great comfoi-t from this fellow : methinks he hath no drowning-mark upon him ; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging ! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advan- tage ! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the topmast ! yare ; lower, lower ! Bring her to try vrith main-course !''" [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling ! they are louder than the weather or our office. Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo. Yet again ! what do you here ? Shall we give o'er, and drown ? Have you a mind to sink ? Seh. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, in- charitable dog ! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang ! you whoreson, insolent noise- maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an un- stanched wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold ! set her two courses ! off to sea again ; lay her oif ! Re-enter Mariners wet. Mariners. All lost ! to prayers, to prayers ! all lost ! [Exeunt. Boats. What, must our mouths be cold ? Gon. The king and prince at prayers ! let's assist them, For our case is as theirs. Seh. I'm out of patience. SCENE 11.] THE TEMPEST. 177 Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards : — This wide-chapp'd rascal, — would thou mightst lie drowning, The washing of ten tides ! Gon. He'll be hang'd yet. Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him. [A confused noise within, — " Mercy on us !" — "We split, we spHt !" — "Farewell, my wife and children !" — "Farewell, brother!" — "We split, we split, we split!"] [Exit Boatswain. Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Exit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, — ling, heath, broom, furze, any thing.*^' The wills above be done ! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit. Scene II. The island: before the cell of Vrosveuo. Enter Prospero and Miranda. Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch. But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek. Dashes the fire out. 0, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel. Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures® in her, Dash'd all to pieces. 0, the cry did knock Against my very heart ! Poor souls, they perish'd ! Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and The fraughting souls within her. Pros. Be collected ; No more amazement : tell your piteous heart There's no harm done. Mir. 0, woe the day ! Pros. No harm. I have done nothing'^' but in care of thee, — 178 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, — who Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing Of whence I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell. And thy no greater father. Mir. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pros. 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand. And pluck my Inagie garment from me. — So : [Lays down his rohe. Lie there, my art. — Wipe thou thine eyes ; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such prevision in mine art''' So safely order'd, that there is no soul — ® No, not BO much perdition as an hair Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard' st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down ; For thou must now know further. Mir. You have often Begun to tell me what I am ; but stopp'd, And left me to a bootless inquisition. Concluding, " Stay, not yet." Pros. The hour's now come ; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear : Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember A time before we came unto this cell ? I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not Out three years old. Mir. Certainly, sir, I can. Pros. By what ? by any other house or person ? Of any thing the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mir. 'Tis far off. And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four or five women once that tended me ? Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in thy mind ? What see'st thou else SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. J79 In the dark backward and abysm of time ? If thou remember'st aught ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here thou mayst. Mir. But that I do not. Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power. Mir. Sir, are not you my father ? Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter ; and thy father Was Duke of Milan ; thou his only heir, A princess, — no worse issu'd.® Mir. the heavens ! What foul play had we, that we came from thence ? Or blessed was't we did ? Pros. Both, both, my girl : By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence ; But blessedly holp hither. Mir. 0, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance ! Please you, further. Pros. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio, — I pray thee, mark me, — that a brother should Be so perfidious ! — he whom, next thyself. Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put The manage of my state ; as, at that time, Through all the signiories it was the first. And Prospero the prime duke ; being so reputed In dignity, and for the liberal arts Without a parallel : those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother. And to my state grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle — Dost thou attend me ? Mir. Sir, most heedfully. Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits. How to deny them, who t' advance, and who To trash for over-topping, — new-created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em. Or else new-form'd 'em ; having both the key 180 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state To what tune pleas'd his ear ; that now he was The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not. Mir. 0, good sir, I do. Pros. I pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness, and the bettering of my mind With that which, but by being so retir'd, O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother Awak'd an evil nature ; and my trust. Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood, in its contrary as great As my trust was ; which had indeed no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded. Not only with what my revenue yielded. But what my power might else exact, — like one Who having into truth by telling of it,'^"' Made such a sinner of his memory. To credit his own lie, — he did believe He was indeed the duks ; out o' the substitution, And executing th' outward face of royalty. With all prerogative : — hence his ambition growing, — Dost thou hear ? Mir. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pros. To have no screen between this part he play'd And him he play'd it for, he needs will be Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough :*'^* of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable ; confederates — So dry he was for sway — with the King of Naples*'^' To give him annual tribute, do him homage. Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend The dukedom, yet unbow'd, — alas, poor Milan ! — The most ignoble stooping. Mir. the heavens ! Pros. Mark his condition, and th' event ; then tell me If this might be a brother. Mir. I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother : SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 181 Good wombs have borne bad sons. Pros. Now the condition. This King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, barkens''^' my brother's suit ; Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises, — Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, — Should presently extirpate me and mine Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan, With all the honours, on my brother : whereon, A treacherous army levied, one midnight Fated to the practice,'"' did Antonio open The gates of Milan ; and, i' the dead of darkness. The ministers for the purpose hurried thence Me and thy crying self. Mir. Alack, for pity ! I, not remembering how I cried on't then. Will cry it o'er again :*"' it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to't. Pros. Hear a little further. And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now 's upon 's ; without the which, this story Were most impertinent. Mir. Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us ? Pros. Well demanded, wench : My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, — So dear the love my people bore me, — nor set A mark so bloody on the business ; but With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark. Bore us some leagues to sea ; where they prepar'd A rotten carcass of a boat,<^°' not rigg'd. Nor tackle, sail, nor mast ; the very rats Instinctively had'^" quit it : there they hoist us, To cry to the sea that roar'd to us ; to sigh To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again. Did us but loving wrong. Mir. Alack, what trouble Was I then to you ! Pros. 0, a cherubin 182 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Thou wast that did preserve me ! Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt. Under my burden groan'd ; which rais'd in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue. Mir. How came we ashore ? Pros. By Providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity, — who being then appointed Master of this design, — did give us ; with Eich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, Which since have steaded much ; so, of his gentleness, Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me. From mine own library, vsdth volumes that I prize above my dukedom. Mir. Would I might But ever see that man ! IPros. Now I arise : — "*' Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arriv'd ; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princess' can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. Mir. Heavens thank you for't ! And now, I pray you, sir, — For still 'tis beating in my mind, — your reason For raising the sea-storm ? Pros. Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune — Now my dear lady — hath mine enemies Brought to this shore ; and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions : Thou art inclin'd to sleep ; 'tis a good dulness. And give it way : — I know thou canst not choose. — [Miranda sleeps. SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 183 Come away, servant, come ! I'm ready now : Approach, my Ariel ; come ! Enter Ariel. Ari. All hail, great master ! grave sir, hail ! I come To answer thy best pleasure ; be't to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curl'd clouds, — to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality. Pros. Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee ? Ari. To every article. I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak. Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flam'd amazement : sometime I'd divide. And burn in many places ; on the topmast. The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly. Then meet, and join. Jove's lightnings,'^" the precursors 0' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not : the fire, and cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd'^"' to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake. Pros. My brave spirit I'^" Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason ? Ari. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel. Then all a-fire with me : the king's son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring, — then like reeds, not hair, — Was the first man that leap'd ; cried, " Hell is empty. And all the devils are here." Pi'os. Why, that's my spirit ! But was not this nigh shore ? ■^'''^- Close by, my master. Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe ? ^''*- Not a hair perish'd ; On their sustaining garments not a blemish. 184 THE TEMPEST. [act i. But fresher than before : and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle. The king's son have I landed by himself; Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot. Pros. Of the king's ship The mariners, say how thou hast'-^' dispos'd. And all the rest o' the fleet. Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship ; in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid : The mariners all under hatches stow'd ; Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, I've left asleep : and for the rest o' the fleet. Which I dispers'd, they all have met again, And are upon the Mediterranean flote, Bound sadly home for Naples ; Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd. And his great person perish. Pros. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd : but there's more work. What is the time o' the day ? Ari. Past the mid season. Pros. At least'^" two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously. Ari. Is there more toil ? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd. Which is not yet perform'd me. Pros. How now, moody ! What is't thou canst demand ? Ari. My liberty. Pros. Before the time be out ? no more ! Ari. I prithee, Eemember I have done thee worthy service ; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings,'^*' serv'd Without or grudge or grumblings : thou didst promise To bate me a full year. Pros. Dost thou forget SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 185 From what a torment I did free thee ? Ari. No. Pros. Thou dost ; and think' st it much to tread the ooze Of the salt deep, To run upon the sharp wind of the north, To do me business in the veins o' th' earth When it is bak'd with frost. Ari. I do not, sir. Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing ! Hast thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop ? hast thou forgot her ? Ari. No, sir. Pros. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pros. 0, was she so ? I must Once in a month recount what thou hast been. Which thou forgett'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, Thou know'st, was banish'd : for one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true ? Ari. Ay, sir. Pros. This blue-ey'd hag*"' was hither brought with child. And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant ; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, Refusing her grand bests, she did confine thee. By help of her more potent ministers, And in her most unmitigable rage. Into a cloven pine ; within which rift Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain A dozen years ; within which space she died, And left thee there ; where thou didst vent thy groans As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island — Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp hag-born — not honour'd with A human shape. 186 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Ari. Yes, Caliban her son. Pros. Dull thing, I say so ; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in ; thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears : it was a torment'^® To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo : it was mine art. When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out. Ari. I thank thee, master. Pros. If thou more murmur' st, I vsdU rend an oak. And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou'st howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. Pardon, master : I will be correspondent to command. And do my spriting gently. Pros. Do so ; and after two days I will discharge thee. Ari. That's my noble master ! What shall I do ? say what ; what shall I do ? Pros. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea : Be subject to no sight but mine ;'^''' invisible To every eyeball else. Go take this shape. And hither come in't : hence'^® witn diligence ! [Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake ! thou hast slept well ; Awake ! Mir. [ivaJdng] The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me. Pros. Shake it off. Come on ; We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer. Mir. 'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on. Pros. But, as 'tis. We cannot miss him : he does make our fire. Fetch in our wood ; and serves in offices That profit us. — What, ho ! slave ! Caliban ! Thou earth, thou ! speak. Cal. [within] There's wood enough within. SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 187 Pros.. Come forth, I say ! there's other business for thee : Come, thou tortoise ! when ? Re-enter Ariel like a water-nymph. Fine apparition ! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear. Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth ! Miter Caliban. Cal. As wicked dew*^'' as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both ! a south-west blow on ye. And blister you all o'er ! Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps. Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up ; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee ; thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycomb,'^"' each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em. Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother. Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st here first, '^" Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me ; wouldst give me Water with berries in't ; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile : — Cursed be I that did so ! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you ! For I am all the subjects that you have. Which first was mine own king : and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o' th' island. Pros. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness ! I have us'd thee, Filth as thou art, with human care ; and lodg'd thee 188 THE TEMPEST. [act i. In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child. Cal. ho, ho ! — would 't had been done ! Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans. ProsP"^^ Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take. Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee. Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage. Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race. Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with ; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock. Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.''^' Cal. You taught me language ; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language ! Pr'os. Hag-seed, hence ! Fetch us in fuel ; and be quick, thou'ri*'"" best, To answer other business. Shrugg'st th9u, malice ? If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps. Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar. That beasts shall tremble at thy din. Cal. No, pray thee. — [Aside] I must obey : his art is of such power. It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him. Pros. So, slave ; hence ! [Exit Caliban. Re-enter Ariel, invisible, jylaying and singing ; Ferdinand following. Ariel's song. Come imto these yellow sands, And then take hands ; SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 189 Court'sied when you have and kiss'd, — The wild waves whist, — <^*' Foot it featly here and there ; ' And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.'^^' Hark, hark ! [Burden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.] The watch-dogs bark : iBurden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.] Hark, hark ! I hear The strain of struttiag chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. Fer. Where should this music be ? i' th' air or th' earth ? It sounds no more : — and, sure, it waits upon Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank. Weeping again the king my father's wreck. This music crept by me upon the waters. Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air : thence I have foUow'd it. Or it hath drawn me rather : — but 'tis gone. No, it begins again. Abibl sings. Full fathom five thy father lies ; Of his bones are coral made ; Those are pearls that were his eyes ; Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his kneU : [Burden, within. Ding-dong.] Hark ! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, hell. Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father : — This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes : — I hear it now above me. Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. And say what thou see'st yond. Mir. What is't ? a spirit ? Lord, how it looks about ! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form : — but 'tis a spirit. VOL. I. 190 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Pros. No, wench ; it eats, and sleeps, and hath such senses As we have, such. This gallant which thou see'st Was in the wreck ; and, hut he's something stain'd With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst caU him A goodly person : he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find 'em. Mir. I might call him A thing divine ; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pi-os. [aside] It goes on, I see. As my soul prompts it. — Spirit, fine spirit ! I'll free thee Within two days for this. Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend ! — Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this island ; And that you will some good instruction give How I may bear me here : my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, — you wonder ! — If you be maid or no ? Mir. No wonder, sir ; But certainly a maid. Fer, My language ! heavens ! — I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken. Pi-OS. How ! the best ! What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee ? Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me ; And that he does I weep : myself am Naples ; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd. Mir. Alack, for mercy ! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords ; the Duke of Milan And his brave son being twain. Pros, [aside'] The Duke of Milan And his more braver daughter could control''" thee. If now 'twere fit to do't. — At the first sight They have chang'd eyes. — Delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this !— A word, good sir ; I fear you've done yourself some wrong : a word. SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 191 Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently ? This Is the third man that e'er I saw ; the first That e'er I sigh'd for : pity move my father To be inclin'd my way ! Fer. 0, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pros. Soft, sir ! one word more. — [Aside] They 're both in either's powers : but this swift busi- ness I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. — One word more f^^ I charge thee That thou attend me : thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not ; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on't. Fer. No, as I'm a man. Mir. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple : If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't. Pros. Follow me. — [To Fer. Speak not you for him ; he's a traitor. ^ — Come ; I'll manacle thy neck and feet together : Sea-water shalt thou drink ; thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cra'dled. Follow. Fer. No ; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power. [Draws, and is charmed from moving. Mir. dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle, and not fearful. Pros. What, I say. My fool my tutor !<^^' — Put thy sword up, traitor ; Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt : come from thy ward ; For I can here disarm thee with this stick. And make thy weapon drop. Mir. Beseech you, father !— 192 THE TEMPEST. [act i. Pros. Hence ! hang not on my garments. Mir. Sir, have pity ; I'll be his surety. Pros. Silence ! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What, An advocate for an impostor ! hush ! Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban : foolish wench ! To the most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels. Mir. My affections Are, then, most humble ; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pi'os. Come on ; obey : [To Fer. Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are : My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,**"' Might I but through my prison once a-day Behold this maid : all corners else o' th' earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. Pros, [aside] It works. — Come on. — [To Fer. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel ! — Follow me. — [To Fer. Hark what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel. Mir. Be of comfort ; My father's of a better nature, sir. Than he appears by speech : this is unwonted Which now came from him. Pros. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds : but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To the syllable. Pros. Come, follow. — Speak not for him. [Exeunt. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 193 ACT 11. Scene I. Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adeian, Feancisco, and others. Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry ; you have cause — So have we all — of joy; for our escape Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe Is common ; every day some sailor's wife. The master'"' of some merchant, and the merchant, Have just our theme of woe :**^' but for the miracle, I mean our preservation, few in millions Can speak like us : then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort. Alon. Prithee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit : by and by it will strike. Gon. Sir, — Seb. One:— tell. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd. Comes to the entertainer — Seb. A dollar. Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed : you have spoken truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord, — Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue ! Ahn. I prithee, spare. '*^* G-on. Well, I have done : but yet,— Seb. He will be talking. Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow ?'**' Seb. The old cock. Ant. The cockerel. Seb. Done ! The wager ? 194 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match ! Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, — Seh. Ha, ha, ha ! — So, you're paid. Adr. Uninhabitable,'*^' and almost inaccessible, — Seb. Yet,— Adr. Yet,— Ant. He could not miss't. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate tem- perance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle ; as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to Ufe. Ant. True ; save means to live. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks ! how green ! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Seb. With an eye of green in't. Ant. He misses not much. Seb. No ; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is,-^which is indeed almost be- yond credit, — Seb. As many vouched rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and gloss,'*" being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies ? Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 195 Ant. Widow ! a pox o' that ! How came that widow in ? widow Dido ! Seh. What if he had said " widower ^neas" too ? Good Lord, how you take it ! Adr. Widow Dido, said you ? you make me study of that : she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage ! Oon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next ? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. ..4Jow.*«' Ay! Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. 0, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it ? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fished for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage ? Ahn. You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense. Would I had never Married my daughter there ! for, coming thence, My son is lost ; and, in my rate, she too, WTio is so far from Italy remov'd, I ne'er again shall see her. thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee ? Fran. Sir, he may live : I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted 196 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. The surge most swoln that met him ; his hold head 'Bove the contentious wayes he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn hasis how'd, As stooping to relieve him : I not douht He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African ; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye. Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. Alon. Prithee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise. By all of us ; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between loathness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow.'**' We've lost your son, I fear, for ever : Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business' making Than we bring men to comfort them : the fault's Your own. Alon. So is the dear'st o' the loss. Gon. My Lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness. And time to speak it in : you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. Seb. Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir. When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather ! Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, — Ant. He'd sow't with nettle-seed. 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. T the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute aU things ; for no kind of trafiBc Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 197 Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none ; contract, succession. Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none f^ No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ; No occupation ; all men idle, all ; And women too, — but innocent and pure ; No sovereignty, — Seb. Yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the he- ginning. Oon. All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine. Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects ? Ant. None, man ; all idle, — whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, T' excel the golden age. Seb. Save his majesty ! Ant. Long live Gonzalo !'^" Gon. And, — do you mark me, sir ? — Alon. Prithee, no more : thou dost talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness ; and did it to mi- nister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laughed at. Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you : so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given ! Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle ; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter Aeiel, invisible ; solemn music playing. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my dis- 198 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. cretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. [All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep ! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts : I find They are inclin'd to do so. Seb. Please you, sir. Do not omit the heavy offer of it : It seldom visits sorrow ; when it doth. It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord. Will guard your person while you take your rest. And watch your safety. Alon. Thank you. — ^Wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them ! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. ' Why Doth it not, then, our eyelids sink ? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep. Ant. Nor I ; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent ; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might. Worthy Sebastian, — 0, what might ? — No more : — And yet methinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be : th' occasion speaks thee ; and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking ? Ant. Do you not hear me speak ? Seb. I do ; and surely It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open ; standing, speaking, moving. And yet so fast asleep. Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou lett'st thy fortune sleep, — die, rather ; wink'st Whiles thou art waking. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 199 Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly ; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom : you Must be so too, if heed me ; which to do Trebles thee o'er. Seb. Well, I am standing water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Seb. Do so : to ebb Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. 0, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mock it ! how, in stripping it, You more invest it ! Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run By their own fear or sloth. Seb. Prithee, say on : The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee ; and a birth, indeed. Which throes thee much to yield. Ant. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, — Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth'd,— hath here almost persuaded, — ''^' For he's a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade, — the king his son's alive, — 'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd As he that sleeps here swims. Seb. I have no hope That he's undrown'd. Ant. O, out of that no hope. What great hope have you ! no hope, that way, is Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubts'^* discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd ? Seb. He's gone. ^i^t- Then, tell me, Who's the next heir of Naples ? Seb. Claribel. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis ; she that dwells 200 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. Ten leagues beyond man's life ; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post, — The man-i'-the-moon's too slow, — till new-born chins Be rough and razorable ; she from whom'^' We all were sea-swaUow'd, though some cast again ; And, by that destiny, to perform an act Whereof what's past is prologue ; what to come. In yours and my discharge. Seb. What stuff is this ! — How say you ? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis ; So is she heir of Naples ; 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, " How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ?'^^' Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake !" — Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd them ; why, they were no worse Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps ; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo ; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. 0, that you bore The mind that I do ! what a sleep were this For your advancement ! Do you understand me ? Seb. Methinks I do. Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune ? Seb. I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True : And look how weU my garments sit upon me ; Much feater than before : my brother's servants Were then my fellows ; now they are my men. Seb. But, for your conscience, — Ant. Ay, sir ; and'^^' where lies that ? if 'twere a kibe, 'Twould put me to my slipper : but I feel not This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences. That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they. And melt, ere they molest ! Here lies your brother. No better than the earth he lies upon. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 201 If he were that which now he's like, that's dead ;'*" Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it. Can lay to bed for ever ; whiles you, doing thus. To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest. They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk ; They'll tell the clock to any business that We say befits the hour. Seb. Thy case, dear friend. Shall be my precedent ; as thou gott'st Milan, I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword : one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st ; And I the king shall love thee. Ant. Draw together ; And when I rear my hand, do you the like. To fall it on Gonzalo. Seh. 0, but one word. [They converse apart. Music. Re-enter Ariel, -invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in ; and sends me forth, — For else his project dies, — to keep thee living.*'*' \_Sings in Gonzalo's ear. While you here do snoring lie, Open-ey'd conspiracy His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Shake off slumber, and beware : Awake, Awake ! Ant. Then let us both be sudden. Gon. [waking'] Now, good angels Preserve the king ! — [To Seb. and Ant.} Why, how now ! — \_To Alon.] Ho, awake ! — • [To Seb. and Ant.] Why are you drawn? wherefore this ghastly looking ? Alon. [waking] What's the matter?''^' Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing 202 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. Like bulls, or rather lions : did't not wake you ? It struck mine ear most terribly. Alo7i. I heard nothing. Ant. 0, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear, To make an earthquake ! sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions. Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo ? Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me : I shak'd you, sir, and cried : as mine eyes open'd, I saw their weapons drawn : — there was a noise. That's verity.'^"' 'Tis best we stand upon our guard. Or that we quit this place : let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off this ground ; and let's make further search For my poor son. Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts ! For he is, sure, i' th' island. Alon. Lead away. {Exit with the others. Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done i — ■ So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [_Exit. Scene H. Another part of the island. Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard. Gal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease ! His spirits hear me. And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch. Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire. Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid 'em : but For every trifle are they set upon me ; Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me, And after bite me ; then like hedgehogs, which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount Their pricks at my footfall ; sometime am I All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness. — Lo, now, lo ! SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 203 Here comes a spirit of his ; and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly. I'U fall flat ; Perchance he will not mind me. [Lies down. Enter Tbinculo. Trm. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head : yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. — What have we here ? a man or a fish ? dead or alive ? A fish : he smells like a fish ; a very ancient and fish-like smell ; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver : there would this monster make a man ; any strange beast there makes a man : when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man ! and his fins like arms ! Warm, o' my troth ! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer, — this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.'] Alas, the storm is come again ! my best way is to creep under his gaberdine ; there is no other shelter hereabout : misery acquaints a man with strange bed- fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past. [Creeps under Caliban's garment. Enter Stbphano, singing ; a bottle in Ms hand. 8te. I stall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die a-shore, — This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral : well, here's my comfort. [Drinks. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate, Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, But none of us car'd for Kate ; For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor. Go hang ! 204 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. She loVd not the savour of tar nor of pitch ; Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch. Then, to sea, boys, and let her go hang ! This is a scurvy tune too : but here's my comfort. [Drinks. Cal. Do not torment me : — ! 8te. What's the matter ? Have we devils here ? Do you put tricks upon 's with savages**" and men of Inde, ha ? I have not scaped drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs ; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground ; and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at's nostrils.'*^' Cal. The spirit torments me : — ! Ste. This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language ? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather. Cal. Do not torment me, prithee ; I'll bring my wood home faster. Ste. He's in his fit now, and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle : if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him ; he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt ; Thou wUt anon, I know it by thy trembling : Now Prosper works upon thee. Ste. Come on your ways ; open your mouth ; here is that which will give language to you, cat : open your mouth ; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly [Gives Cal. drinJc] : you cannot tell who's your friend : open your chaps again [Gives Cal. drinli], Trin. I should know that voice : it should be — but he is drowned ; and these are devils : — 0, defend me ! Ste. Four legs and two voices, — a most delicate monster ! His forward voice, now, is to speak well of his friend ; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. — [Gives Cal. dnnk.'] Come, — Amen ! I will pour some in thy other mouth. SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 205 Trin. Stephano ! — Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me ? — Mercy, mercy ! This is a devil, and no monster : I will leave him ; I have no long spoon. Trin. Stephano ! — if thou heest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me ; for I am Trinculo, — be not afeard, — thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth : I'll pull thee by the lesser legs : if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. [Draws Trin. out by the legs from under Caliban's garment.'] — Thou art very Trinculo indeed ! How earnest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf ? can he vent Trinculos ? Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. — But art thou not drowned, Stephano ? I hope, now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown ? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? Stephano, two Neapolitans scaped ! Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about ; my stomach is not constant. Cal. [aside'] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor : I will kneel to him. Ste. How didst thou scape? How camest thou hither? swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o'erboard, by this bottle ! which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore. Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject ; for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here ; swear, then, how thou escapedst.'^® Trin. Swam ashore, man, like a duck : I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn. , Ste. Here, kiss the book [Gives Trin. drink]. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose. Trin. Stephano, hast any more of this ? Ste. The whole butt, man : my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid.— How now, moon-calf! how does thine ague ? Cal. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven ? VOL. I. p 206 THE TEMPEST. [act ii. Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee : I was the man-i'- the-moon when time was. Cal. I've seen thee in her, and I do adore thee : My mistress show'd me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush. Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: — I will furnish it anon with new contents : — swear. [Gives Cal. drink. Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster ! — I afeard of him ! — a very weak monster : — the man-i'-the- moon ! — a most poor credulous monster ! — Well drawn, mon- ster, in good sooth. Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island ; And I'll kiss thy foot : I prithee, be my god. Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken mon- ster ! when 's god 's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. Gal. I'll kiss thy foot ; I'll swear myself thy subject. Ste. Come on, then ; down, and swear. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster : a most scurvy monster ! I could find in my heart to beat him, — Ste. Come, kiss. [Gives Cal. drink. Trin. But that the poor monster's in drink : an abomin- able monster ! Cal. I'll show thee the best springs ; I'll pluck thee berries ; I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve ! I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee. Thou wondrous man. Trin. A. most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard ! Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow ; And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts ; Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset ; I'll bring thee To clustering filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee Young scamels from the rock.'^' Wilt thou go with me ? Ste. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more talk- ing. — Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle :*^^' fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again. Cal. Farewell, master ; farewell, farewell ! [Sings drunkenly. SCENE I.] THE TEMPKST. 207 Trin. A howling monster ; a drunken monster ! Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish ; Nor fetch in Ibing At requiring ; Nor scrape trencher/"^' nor wash dish : 'Ban, 'Ban, Ca — Caliban Has a new master — Get a new man. Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom ! Ste. brave monster ! lead the way. [Exeunt. ACT III. Scene I. Before Pbospebo's cell. Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log. Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off :'^" some kinds of 'baseness Are nobly undergone ; and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be As heavy to me as 'tis'^^' odious, but The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead, And makes my labours pleasures : 0, she is Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed, — ■ And he's compos'd of harshness ! I must remove Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction : my sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work ; and says such baseness Had never like executor. I forget : But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labour ; Most busiless when I do it.'^^' Enter Miranda ; and Pkospbro behind. Mir. Alas, now, pray you, Work not so hard : I would the lightning had 208 THE TEMPEST. [act "i- Burnt up those logs that you're enjoin'd to pile ! Pray, set it down, and rest you : when this burns, 'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father Is hard at study ; pray, now, rest yourself : He's safe for these three hours. Fer. most dear mistress. The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do. Mir. n you'll sit down,''"' I'U bear your logs the whUe : pray, give me that ; I'll carry 't to the pile. Fer. No, precious creature; I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo. While I sit lazy by. Mir. It would become me As well as it does you : and I should do it With much more ease ; for my good wiU is to it, And yours 'tis 'gainst. Pros, [aside] Poor worm, thou art infected ! This visitation shows it. Mir. You look wearily. Fer. No, noble mistress ; 'tis fresh morning with me When you are by at night. I do beseech you, — Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,— What is your name ? Mir. Miranda : — my father, I've broke your hest to say so ! Fer. Admir'd Miranda ! Indeed the top of admiration ; worth What's dearest to the world ! Full many a lady I've ey'd with best regard ; and many a time The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear : for several virtues Have I lik'd several women ; never any With so full soul, but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd. And put it to the foil : but you, you. So perfect and so peerless, are created Of every creature's best ! SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 209 Mir. I do not know One of my sex ; no woman's face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own ; nor have I seen More that I may call men, than you, good friend. And my dear father : how features are abroad, I'm skilless of; but, by my modesty, — • The jewel in my dower, — I would not wish Any companion in the world but you ; Nor can imagination form a shape. Besides yourself, 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 so ! — and would no more endure This wooden slavery than to suffer tamely*''" The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak ; The very instant that I saw you, did My heart fly to your service ; there resides, To make me slave to it ,• and for your sake Am I this patient log-man. Mir. Do you love me ? Fer. heaven, earth, bear witness to this sound, And crown what I profess with kind event, If I speak true ! if hollowly, invert What best is boded me to mischief ! I, Beyond all limit of what*'^' else i' the world. Do love, prize, honour you. Mir. I am a fool To weep at what I'm glad of. Pros, [aside'] Fair encounter Of two most rare affections ! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between 'em ! ■^^''' Wherefore weep you ? Mir. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give ; and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling ; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! 210 THE TEMPEST. [act hi. I am your wife, if you -will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no. Fer. My mistress, dearest ; And I thus humble ever. Mir. My husband, then ? Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom : here's my hand. Mir. And mine, with my heart in't: and now farewell Till half an hour hence. Fer. A thousand thousand ! [Exeunt Fer. and Mir. severally. Pros. So glad of this as they I cannot be. Who are surpris'd withal ; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I'll to my book ; For yet, ere supper-time, must I perform Much business appertaining. [Exit. Scene II. Another part of the island. Enter Caliban, Stbphano, aiid Trinoulo, with a bottle.^''^^ Ste. Tell not me ; — when the butt is out, we will drink water ; not a drop before : therefore bear up, and board 'em. — Servant-monster, drink to me. Trin. Servant-monster ! the folly of this island ! They say there's but five upon this isle : we are three of them ; if th' other two be brained like us, the state totters. Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee : thy eyes are almost set in thy head. [Caliban drinks. Trin. Where should they be set else ? he were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. Ste. My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me ; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty leagues off and on, by this light. — Thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard. Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list ; he's no standard. Ste. We'll not run, Monsieur Monster. SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 211 Trin. Nor go neither : but you'll lie, like dogs ; and yet say nothing neither. Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf. Cal. How does thy honour ? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll not serve him, he is not valiant. Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster : I am in case to justle a constable. Why, thou debauched fish, thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day ? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster ? Cal. Lo, how he mocks me ! wilt thou let him, my lord ? Trin. "Lord," quoth he !^ — that a monster should be such a natural ! Cal. Lo, lo, again ! bite him to death, I prithee. Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head : if you prove a mutineer, ^ — "^ the next tree ! The poor monster's my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity. Cal. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd To hearken once again to the suit I made to thee ?'^*' Ste. Marry, will I : kneel and repeat it ; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo. Enter Ariel, invisible. Cal. As I told thee before,'"" I am subject to a tyrant, — a soicerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island. Ari. Thou liest. Cal. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou : I would my valiant master would destroy thee ! I do not lie. Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in 's tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth. Trin. Why, I said nothing. Ste. Mum, then, and no more. — [To Caliban] Proceed. Cal. I say, by sorcery he got this isle ; From me he got it. If thy greatness will Eevenge it on him,— for I know thou dar'st. But this thing dare not, — Ste. That's most certain. Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee.'"' 212 THE TEMPEST. [act iii. Ste. How now shall this be compassed ? Canst thou bring me to the party ? Cal. Yea, yea, my lord : I'll yield him thee asleep. Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head. Ari. Thou Rest ; thou canst not. Gal. What a pied ninny's this ! — Thou scurvy patch ! — .1 do beseech thy greatness, give him blows. And take his bottle from him : when that's gone. He shaU drink naught but brine ; for I'll not show him Where the quick freshes are. Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger : interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors, and make a stock-fish of thee. Trim. Why, what did I ? I did nothing. I'U go further off.<'® Ste. Didst thou not say he lied? Ari. Thou liest. Ste. Do I so? take thou that {Strikes Trin.]. As you like this, give me the lie another time. Trin. I did not give thee the lie.'^^' — Out o' your wits, and hearing too ? — A pox o' your bottle ! this can sack and drinking do. — A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers ! Cal. Ha, ha, ha ! Ste. Now, forward with your tale. — Prithee, stand further off. Cal. Beat him enough : after a little time, I'll beat him too. Ste. Stand further. — Come, proceed. Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him I' th' afternoon to sleep : then thou mayst brain him,**"' Having first seiz'd his books ; or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake. Or cut his wesand with thy knife : remember. First to possess his books ; for without them He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command : they aU do hate him As rootedly as I : — burn but his books. He has brave utensils, — for so he calls them, — Which, when he has a house, he'll deck't"" withal : SCENE II.] THE TEMPEST. 213 And that most deeply to consider is The beauty of his daughter ; he himself Calls her a nonpareil : I ne'er saw woman/*^' But only Sycorax my dam and she ; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax As great'st does least. Ste. Is it so brave a lass ? Cal. Ay, lord ; she will become thy bed, I warrant, And bring thee forth brave brood. Ste. Monster, I will kill this man : his daughter and I will be king and queen, — save our graces ! — and Trinculo and thy- self shall be viceroys. — Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo ? Trin. Excellent. Ste. Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but, while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head. Cal. Within this half hour will he be asleep : Wilt thou destroy him then ? Ste. Ay, on mine honour. Ari. This will I tell my master. Cal. Thou mak'st me merry ; I am full of pleasure : Let us be jocund : will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere ? Ste. At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason. — Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. . \_Sings. Flout 'em and scout'83) 'em, and scout 'em and flout 'em ; Thought is free. Cat. That's not the tune. \_Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe. Ste. What is this same ? Trin. This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody. Ste. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness : if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list. Trin. 0, forgive me my sins ! Ste. He that dies pays all debts : I defy thee. — Mercy upon us ! Cal. Art thou afeard ? Ste. No, monster, not I. Cal. Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, 214 THE TEMPEST. [act hi. Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometime'**' a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime Toices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep. Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Eeady to drop upon me ; that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again. Ste. This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing. Cal. When Prospero is destroyed. Ste. That shall be by and by : I remember the story. Trin. The sound is going away ; let's follow it, and after do our work. Ste. Lead, monster ; we'll follow. — ^I would I could see this taborer ! he lays it on. — -Wilt come ?'*^' Trin. I'll follow, Stephano. [Exeunt. Scene III. Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others. Gon. By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir ; My old bones ache : here's a maze trod, indeed. Through forth-rights and meanders ! by your patience, I needs must rest me. Alan. Old lord, I cannot blame thee, ' Who am myself attach'd with weariness, To the dulling of my spirits : sit down, and rest. Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it No longer for my flatterer : he is drown'd Whom thus we stray to find ; and the sea mocks Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. Ant. [aside to Seb.] I am right glad that he's so out of hope. Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose That you resolv'd t' effect. Seb. [aside to Ant.] The next advantage Will we take throughly. SCENE ni.] THE TEMPEST. 215 Ant. [_aside to Seb.] Let it be to-night ; For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance As when they're fresh. Seh. [aside to Ant.'] I say, to-night : no more. [Solemn and strange music. Alon. What harmony is this ? — My good friends, hark ! Oon. Marvellous sweet music ! Enter Peospero above, invidble. Unter, beloiv, several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet: they daiiee about it loith gentle actions of salutation ; and, inviting the King, Sfc. to eat, they depart. Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens ! — What were these? Seh. A living drollery. Now I will believe That there are unicorns ; that in Arabia There is one tree, the phcenix' throne ; one phoenix At this hour reigning there. Ant. I'll believe both ; And what does else want credit, come to me. And I'll be sworn 'tis true : travellers ne'er did lie,*'^' Though fools at home condemn 'em. Gon. If in Naples I should report this now, would they believe me ? If I should say, I saw such islanders, — ®" For, certes, these are people of the island, — Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note. Their manners are more gentle-kind than of Our human generation you shall find Many, nay, almost any. Pros, [aside] Honest lord. Thou hast said well ; for some of you there present Are worse than devils. Alon. I cannot too much muse Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing — Although they want the use of tongue — a kind Of excellent dumb discourse. Pros, [aside] Praise in departing. Fran. They vanish'd strangely. "^^' No matter, since They've left their viands behind ; for we have stomachs. — 216 THE TEMPEST. [act in, Will't please you taste of what is here ? Alon. Not I. Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em Wallets of flesh ? or that there were such men Whose heads stood in their breasts ? which now we find Each putter-out of one for five***' will bring us Good warrant of. Alon. I will stand to, and feed. Although my last : no matter, since I feel The best is past.'*^' — Brother, my lord the duke. Stand to, and do as we. Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel, like a harpy- claps his wings upon the tahle; and, with a quaint device, tlie banquet vanishes.^^'^ Ari. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, — That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in't, — the never-surfeited sea Hath caus'd to belch up you ; and on this island,'^" Where man doth not inhabit, — you 'mongst men Being most unfit to live. I've made you mad ; And even with such-like valour men hang and drown Their proper selves. [Alon., Seh. dx. draw their swords. You fools ! I and my fellows Are ministers of Fate : the elements. Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish One dowle that's in my plume : my fellow-ministers Are alike invulnerable. If you could hurt. Your swords are now too massy for your strengths. And will not be uplifted. But remember, — For that's my business to you, — that you three From Milan did supplant good Prospero ; Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it, Him and his innocent child : for which foul deed The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, SCENE III.] THE TEMPEST. 217 They have bereft ; and do pronounce, by me, Lingering perdition — worse than any death Can be at once — shall step by step attend You and your ways ; whose wrath'^^' to guard you from, — • Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls Upon your heads, — is nothing but heart's-sorrow And a clear life ensuing. He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance with mocks and mows, and carry out the table. Pros, [aside] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou Perform'd, my Ariel ; a grace it had, devouring : Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated In what thou hadst to say : so, with good life, And observation strange, my meaner ministers Their several kinds have done. My high charms work, And these, mine enemies, are all knit up In their distractions : they now are in my power ; And in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand, — whom they suppose is drown'd, — And his and mine lov'd darling. \_Exit above. Gon. T the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare ? Alon. 0, it is monstrous, monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder. That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper : it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded. And with him there lie mudded. [^Exit. Seb. But one fiend at a time, I'll fight their legions o'er. Ant. I'll be thy second. [_Exeunt Seb. and Ant. Gon. All three of them are desperate : their great guilt. Like poison given to work a great time after,''"'' Now gins to bite the spirits. — I do beseech you. That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly. And hinder them from what this ecstasy 218 THE TEMPEST. [act it. May now provoke them to. Adr. Follow, I pray you. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Scene I. Before Prospeeo's cell. Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. Pros. If I have too austerely punish'd you, Your compensation makes amends ; for I Have given you here a thread of mine own life,®*' Or that for which I live : who once again I tender to thy hand : all thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test : here, afore Heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast her off, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise. And make it halt behind her. Fer. I do believe it Against an oracle. Pros. Then, as my gift,"^' and thine own acquisition Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter : but If thou dost break her virgin-knot before AU sanctimonious ceremonies may With full and holy rite be minister'd. No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall To make this contract grow ; but barren hate, Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew The union, of your bed with weeds so loathly That you shall hate it both : therefore take heed. As Hymen's lamps shall light you. Fer. As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life. With such love as 'tis now, — the murkiest den. The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion Our worser Genius can, shall never melt SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 219 Mine honour into lust ; to take away The edge of that day's celebration, "When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd. Or Night kept chain'd below. Pros. Fairly spoke. Sit, then, and talk with her ; she is thine own. — What, Ariel ! my industrious servant, Ariel ! Fmter Ariel. Ari. What would my potent master ? here I am. Pros. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service Did worthily perform ; and I must use you In such another trick. Go bring the rabble. O'er whom I give thee power, here, to this place : Incite them to quick motion ; for I must Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art :*'*' it is my promise. And they expect it from me. Ari. Presently ? Pros. Ay, with a twink. Ari. Before you can say, " Come," and " Go," And breathe twice, and cry, " So, so," Each one, tripping on his toe. Will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, master ? no ? Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call. Ari. Well, I conceive. [Exit. Pros. Look thou be true ; do not give dalliance Too much the rein ; the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood : be more abstemious, Or else good night your vow ! Fer. I warrant you, sir ; The white-cold virgin snow upon my heart Abates the ardour of my liver. Pros. Well.— Now come, my Ariel ! bring a corollary, Eather than want a spirit : appear, and pertly ! — No tongue ; all eyes ; be silent. [Soft music. 220 THE TEMPEST. [act it. Enter Iris. Iris. Ceres, most tounteous lady, tliy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease ; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep. And fiat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep ; Thy banks with peonfed and lUied brims,®'' Which spongy April at thy best betrims, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom- groves, ®8' Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn ; thy pole-chpt vineyard ; And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard. Where thou thyself dost air ; — the queen o' the sky, Whose watery arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these ; and with her sovereign grace, Here on this grass-plot, in this very place. To come and sport : — her peacocks^s' fly amain : Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain. Enter Ceres. Ger. Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter ; Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers ; And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down, Eich scarf to my proud earth ; — why bath thy queen Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green ? Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate ; And some donation freely to estate On the bless'd lovers. Cer. Tell me, heavenly bow, If Venus or her son, as thou dost know, Do now attend the queen ? Since they did plot The means that dusky Dis my daughter got, Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company I have forsworn. Iris. Of her society Be not afraid : I met her deity Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son Dove-drawn -with her. Here thought they to have done SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 221 Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, Whose vows are, that no bed-rite shall he paid Till Hymen's torch be lighted : but in vain ; Mars's hot minion is return'd again ; Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows. Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows, And he a boy right out. Cer. High'st queen of state, Great Juno, comes ; I know her by her gait. Enter Juno. Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be, And honour'd in their issue. SoNO. <7«jto. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you ! Juno sings her blessings on you. Cer. Earth's increase, and foieon plenty, C™' Bams and gamers never empty ; Vines with clustering bunches gi'owing ; Plants with goodly burden bowing ; Spring come to you at the farthes In the very end of harvest ! Scarcity and want shall shun you ; Ceres' blessing so is on you. Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold To think these spirits ? Pros. Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call'd to enact My present fancies. Fer. Let me live here ever ; So rare a wonder'd father and a wife Make this place Paradise.'^"^' \Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment. Pros. Sweet, now, silence ! Juno and Ceres whisper seriously ; There's something else to do ; hush, and be mute, Or else our spell is marr'd. VOL. I. „ 222 THE TEMPEST. [act iv. Iris. You njrmphs, call'd Naiades, of the wanderingC'^) brooks, With, your sedg'd''"'" crowns and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land Answer your summons ; Juno does command : Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love ; be not too late. Enter certain Nymphs. You sunburn'd sicklemen, of August weary, Come hither from the furrow, and he merry : Make holiday ; your rye-straw hats put on, And these fresh nymphs encounter every one In country footing. Enter certain Reapers, properly habited : they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance ; towards the end whereof Pbospbro starts suddenly, and speaks ; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish. Pros, [asidel I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life : the minute of their plot Is almost come. — [To the Spirits] Well done ; — avoid, — no more. Fer. This is most strange: your father's in some passion'^"^' That works him strongly. Mir. Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd. Pros. Sure,''"^' you do look, my son, in a mov'd sort. As if you were dismay'd : be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were aU spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air : And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces. The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, aU which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a wreck behind. '^"^^ We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life SCENE 1.] THE TEMPEST. 223 Is rounded with a sleep. — Sir, I am vex'd ; Bear with my weakness ; my old hrain is troubled : Be not disturb'd with my infirmity : If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell, And there repose : a turn or two I'll walk, To still my beating mind. Fer. Mir. We wish your peace. Pros, [to Ariel] Come with a thought ! — I thank ye [Ex- eunt Fer. and Mir.] — Ariel, come I'^"" Re-enter Ariel. Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure ? Pros. Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban. Ari. Ay, my commander : when I presented Ceres, I thought t' have told thee of it ; but I fear'd Lest I might anger thee. Pros. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets ?'^"" Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking ; So full of valour that they smote the air For breathing in their faces ; beat the ground For kissing of their feet ; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor ; At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears, Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses As they smelt music : so I charm'd their ears. That, calf-like, they my lowing foUow'd through Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns. Which enter'd their frail shins : at last I left them I' the filthy -mantled pool beyond your .cell. There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet.""* Pros. This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still : The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither. For stale to catch these thieves. ^'■*- I go, I go. [Exit. Pros. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick ; on whom my pains. Humanely taken, are all lost, quite lost ;<"■" 224 THE TEMPEST. [act iv. And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Re-enter Ariel, loader, with glistenng apparel, ^c. Even to roaring. — Come, hang them on this line.'^^^' Prospbro and Ariel remain, invisible. Enter Caliban, Stbphano, and Trinculo, all wet. Gal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall : we now are near his cell. Ste. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with us. Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss ; at which my nose is in great indignation. Ste. So is mine. — Do you hear, monster ? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you, — Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster. Cal. Good my lord,'^^^' give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to Shall hoodwink this mischance : therefore speak softly ; — All's hush'd as midnight yet. Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool, — : Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss. Trin. That's more to me than my wetting : yet this is your harmless fairy, monster. Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labour. Cal. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See'st thou here. This is the mouth o' the cell : no noise, and enter. Do that good mischief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-Ucker. Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts. Trin. King Stephano ! peer ! worthy Stephano ! look what a wardrobe here is for thee ! Cal. Let it alone, thou fool ; it is but trash. Trin. 0, ho, monster ! we know what belongs to a frip- pery. — King Stephano ! SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 225 Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo : by this hand, I'll have that gown. Trin. Thy grace shall have it. Cal. The dropsy drown this fool ! what do you mean To dote thus on such luggage ? Let's along,'^"' And do the murder first : if he awake, From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches, Make us strange stuff. Ste. Be you quiet, monster. — Mistress line, is not this my jerkin ? Now is the jerkin under the line : now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald jerkin. Trin. Do, do : we steal by line and level, an 't like your grace. Ste. I thank thee for that jest ; here's a garment for't : wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. " Steal by line and level" is an excellent pass of pate ; there's another garment for't. Trin. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest. Cal. I vriU have none on't : we shall lose our time. And all be turn'd to barnacles, or'"* apes With foreheads villanous low. Ste. Monster, lay-to your fingers : help to bear this away where my hogshead of wine is, or FU turn you out of my kingdom : go to, carry this. Trin. And this. Ste. Kj, and this. A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them about, Prospbeo and Ariel setting them on. Pros. Hey, Mountain, hey ! Ari. Silver ! there it goes. Silver ! Pros. Fury, Fury ! there. Tyrant, there ! hark, hark ! [Cal., Ste., and Trin. are driven out. Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints With dry convulsions ; shorten up their sinews With aged cramps ; and more pinch-spotted make them Than pard or cat-o'-mountain. ■^ri. Hark, they roar ! 226 THE TEMPEST. [act t. Pros. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies : Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom : for a little Follow, and do me service. [Exeunt. ACT V. Sce:sb I. Before the cell of Peospeeo. Enter Prospebo in Ms magic robes, and Ariel. Pros. Now does my project gather to a head : My charms crack not ; my spirits obey ; and Time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? Ari. On the sixth hour ; at which time, my lord. You said our work should cease. Pros. I did say so, When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit. How fares the king and 's followers ? Ari. * Confin'd together In the same fashion as you gave in charge. Just as you left them ; all are prisoners, sir,*^"^*' In the line-grove*^^® which weather-fends your cell ; They cannot budge till your release.'^"' The king. His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted ; And the remainder mourning over them. Brimful of sorrow and dismay ; but chiefly Him that you term'd, sir,'^^^' " The good old lord, Gon- zalo;" His tears run down his beard, like winter-drops'^^'' From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em. That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender. Pros. Dost thou think so, spirit ? Ari. Mine would, sir, were I human. Pros. And mine shall. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 227 Hast thou, which art but ah% a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself. One of their kind, that relish all as sharply Passion as they,'^'°* be kindlier mov'd than thou art ? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick. Yet, with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury Do I take part : the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel : My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore. And they shall be themselves. Ari. I'll fetch them, sir. [Exit. Pros. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green- sour ringlets make. Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms,'^^" that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid — Weak masters though ye be — I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault*^^^' Set roaring war : to the dread-rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt : the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake ; and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar : graves at my command Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and lei 'em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure ; and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music, — which even now I do, — To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth. And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book. [Solemn music. 228 THE TEMPEST. [act v. Re-enter Ariel : after Mm, Alonso, with a frantic gesture, attended by GoNZALO ; Sebastian and Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco : they all enter the circle which Pro- SPERO had made, and there stand charmed ; which Prospbro observing, speaks. A solemn air, and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains. Now useless, boil'd''^^' within thy skull ! There stand. For you are spell-stopp'd. — Holy Gonzalo,'^^' honourable man. Mine eyes, even sociable to the show''^*' of thine, Fall fellowly*^^^' drops. — The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night. Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. — thou good Gonzalo,'^^" My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him thou follow' st ! I will pay thy graces Home both in word and deed. — Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter : Thy brother was a furtherer in the act, — Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian, flesh and blood. — • You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expell'd remorse and nature ; who, with Sebastian, — '^^^' Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, — Would here have kill'd your king ; I do forgive thee. Unnatural though thou art. — Their understanding Begins to swell; and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore. 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 : — [_Exit Ariel. I will disease me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan : — quickly, spirit ; Thou shalt ere long be free. Re-enter Ariel ; who sings while helping to attire Prospeeo. Where the bee sucks, there suck I : In a cowslip's bell I He ; BOENE I.J THE TEMPEST. 229 There I coucli when owls do cry. On the hat's hack I do fly After sunimer"29' merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the hlossom that hangs on the hough. Pros. Why, that's my dainty Ariel ! I shall miss thee ; But yet thou shalt have freedom : — so, so, so. — To the king's ship, invisible as thou art : There shalt thou find the mariners asleep Under the hatches ; the master and the boatswain Being awake,""" enforce them to this place, And presently, I prithee. An. I drink the air before me, and return Or e'er your pulse twice beat. [Exit. Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement, Inhabit here : some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country ! Pros. Behold, sir king, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero : For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body ; And to thee and thy company I bid A hearty welcome. Alon. Wher thou be'st he or no. Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know : thy pulse Beats, as of flesh and blood ; and, since I saw thee, Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me : this must crave — An if this be at all — a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat- Thou pardon me my wrongs. "^^^ — But how should Prospero Be living and be here ? Pros. First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measur'd or confin'd. Gon. "Whether this be Or be not, I'll not swear. Pros. You do yet taste Some subtilties o' th' isle, that will not let you 230 THE TEMPEST. [act v. Believe things certain. — Welcome, my friends all : — [Aside to Seb. and Ant.'] But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you, And justify you traitors : at this time I'll tell no tales. Seb. [aside'] The devil speaks in him. Pros. No. — For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest faults,''^^' — all of them ; and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know, Thou must restore. Alon. If thou be'st Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation ; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost — How sharp the point of this remembrance is ! — My dear son Ferdinand. Pros. I'm woe for't, sir. Alon. Irreparable is the loss ; and patience Says it is past her cure. Pros, I rather think You have not sought her help ; of whose soft grace. For the like loss I have her sovereign aid. And rest myself content. Alon. You the like loss ! Pros. As great to me as late ; and, supportable'"* To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker- Than you may caU to comfort you ; for I Have lost my daughter. Alon. A daughter l^^ heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there ! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter ? Pros. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire. That they devour their reason, and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their'^'^' words SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 231 Are natural breath : but, howso'er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain That I am Prospero, and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan ; who most strangely Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed. To be the lord on't. No more yet of this ; For 'tis a chronicle of day by day. Not a relation for a breakfast, nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir ; This cell's my court : here have I few attendants. And subjects none abroad : pray you, look in. My dukedom since you've given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing ; At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye As much as me my dukedom. The cell opens, and discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chessP^'> Mir. Sweet lord, you play me false. Fer. No, my dear'st love, I would not for the world. Mir. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle. And I would call it fair play. Alan. If this prove A vision of the island, one dear son Shall I twice lose. Seh. A most high miracle ! Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful : I've curs'd them without cause. [Kneels to Alon. Alon. Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about ! Arise, and say how thou cam'st here. Mir.. 0, wonder ! How many goodly creatures are there here ! How beauteous mankind is ! brave new world. That has such people in't ! Pros. 'Tis new to thee. Alon. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours : Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us. 232 THE TEMPEST. [act v. And brought us thus together ? Fer. Sir, she's mortal ; But by iramortal Providence she's mine : I chose her when I could not ask my father For his advice, nor thought I had one. She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown. But never saw before ; of whom I have Eeceiv'd a second life ; and second father This lady makes him to me. Alon. I am hers : But, 0, how oddly will it sound that I Must ask my child forgiveness ! Pros. There, sir, stop : Let us not burden our remembrance'^'" with A heaviness that's gone. Gon. I've inly wept. Or should have spoke ere this. — Look down, you gods. And on this couple drop a blessed crown ! For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither. Alon. I say. Amen, Gonzalo ! Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples ? 0, rejoice Beyond a common joy ! and set it down With gold on lasting pillars, — In one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis ; And Ferdinand, her brother, found a vnfe Where he himself was lost ; Prospero, his dukedom In a poor isle ; and all of us, ourselves When no man was his own. Alon. \to Fer. and Mir.'\ Give me your hands : Let grief and sorrow stiU embrace his heart That doth not wish you joy ! Gon. Be't so ! Amen ! Re-enter Ariel, tvith the Master and Boatswain amazedly following. 0, look, sir, look, sir ! here is more of us : I prophesied, if a gallows were on land. This fellow could not drown. — Now, blasphemy, SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 233 That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore ? Hast thou no mouth by land ? What is the news ? Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found Our king and company ; the next, our ship — Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split — Is tight, and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when We first put out to sea. Ari. [aside to Pros.'] Sir, all this service Have I done since I went. Pros, [aside to Ari.] My tricksy spirit ! Alan. These are not natural events ; they strengthen From strange to stranger. — Say, how came you hither ? Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,*^^*' And — ^how we know not — all clapp'd under hatches ; Where, but even now, with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains. And more diversity of sounds, all horrible. We were awak'd ; straightway, at liberty : When we, in all her'^''' trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good, and gallant ship ; our master Capering to eye her : on a trice, so please you. Even in a dream, were we divided from them. And were brought moping hither. A^i. [aside to Pros.] Was't well done ? Pros, [aside to Ari.] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free. Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod ; And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle Must rectify our knowledge. Pros. Sir, my liege. Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business ; at pick'd leisure, Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you — Which to you shall seem probable — of every These happen'd accidents : till when, be cheerful. And think of each thing yfell.— [Aside to Ari.] Come hither, spirit : Set Caliban and his companions free ; 234 THE TEMPEST. [act v. Untie the spell. [Exit Ariel.'] — ^How fares my gracious sir ? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not. Re-enter Aeibl, driving in Caliban, Stephano, and Tbinoolo, in their stolen apparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. — Coragio, bully-mon- ster, coragio ! Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight. Cal. Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed ! How fine my master is ! I am afraid He will chastise me.'^*"' Seb. Ha, ha ! What things are these, my lord Antonio ? Will money buy 'em ? Ant. Very like ; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. P7-0S. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. — This mis-shapen'^*" knave, — His mother was a witch ; and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command, without her power. These three have robb'd me ; and this demi-devil — For he's a bastard one — had plotted with them To take my life : two of these fellows you Must know and own ; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine. Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death. Alo7i. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler ? Seh. He is drunk now : where had he wine ? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe : where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em ? — How cam'st thou in this pickle ? Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones : I shall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano ! Ste. 0, touch me not ; — I am not Stephano, but a cramp. SCENE I.] THE TEMPEST. 235 Pros. You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah ? Ste. I should have been a sore one, then. ^^^^ Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on."*^ [Pointing to Caliban. Pros. He is as disproportion'd in his manners As in his shape.— Go, sirrah, to my cell ; Take with you your companions ; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. Cal. Ay, that I will ; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. "What a thrice-double ass "Was I, to take this drunkard for a god. And worship this dull fool ! Pros. Go to ; away ! Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt Gal., Ste., and Trin. Pros. Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night ; which — part of it — I'll waste "With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away, — the story of my life. And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle : and in the morn I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, "Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized ; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave. A Ion. I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely. Pros. I'll deliver all ; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales. And sail so expeditious, that shall catch Your royalfleet far off. — [Aside to ylri.] My Ariel, — chick,— That is thy charge : then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well !— Please you, draw near. [Exeunt. 236 THE TEMPEST. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PEOSPEBO. Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own,— Which is most faint : now, 'tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island by your spell ; But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands : Gentle breath of ycurs my sails Must fill, or else my project fails. Which was to please : now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant ; And my ending is despair. Unless I be reliev'd by prayer. Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free. NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 237 V. 175. (i) "Boats. Here, master: what cheer } Mast. Qood, speak to the mariners :" With " Good, speak to the mariners," &c. compare what presently follows, — " Qon. Nay, good, be patient," and " Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard" {"Good" meaning "Good friend" or " Good fellow"). Hero most of the modern editors follow the punctuation of the foHo, "Mast. Good: Speake to th' Mariners," &c., — forgetting that this is one of the passages in the folio where the colon is equivalent to a comma, — and making the Master reply that the cheer is "good," while in the same breath he says that they are in danger of running aground. P. 175. (2) " have care." Dryden and-Davenant, in their alteration of the play, re*i " have a care ;" and so Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. P. 176. (3) " Bring her to try with main-course !" That this (which has been altered to " Bring her to : try wi' th' main-course") is right, appears from the following passages, the one cited by Malone, the other by Steevens. "And when the barke had way, we out the hauser, and so gate the sea to our friend, and tried out all that day with owr maine course." Haokluyt's Voyages, 1598. " Let us lie at Trie with our maine cou/rse," &c. Smith's Sea-Grammar, 1627. P. 177. (4) "ling, heath, broom, furze, any thing." The folio has "Long heath, Browne ^rrs, any thing." — I adopt Hanmer's cor- rection; " which," says Walker, "I feel assured is the true reading. The balance rec[uires it. Besides, what are ' long heath' and ' brown furze' !" Grit. Exam. &o. vol. iii. p. 1. — " I find in Harrison's description of Britain, prefixed to our author's good friend Holinshed, p. 91 ; ' Brome, heth, firze, brakes, whinnes, ling,' &o." Faemeb. — By this time probably Mr. HaUiwell has seen reason to repudiate his defence of " long heath," &a. P. 177. (5) "creatures" The folio has " creature." P. 177. (6) " Mir. 0, woe the day ! Pros. No harm. I have done nothing" Johnson, and Walker [Grit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 188) propose " Mir. 0, woe the day ! — no harm ? Pros. I have done nothing," &c. P. 178. (7) "prevision in mine art" So Mr. Hunter (New Illust. of Shakespeare, i. 186) and Mr. CoUier's Ms. Corrector. — The folio has "prouisionim mine Art." But compare, aotii. so. 1, " My master through his art foresees the danger," &c. VOL. I. K 238 THE TEMPEST. [noteb. P. 178. (8) " no soul — " Eowe gives "no soMHoBt;" Theobald, "mo foil;" Capell, "»o loss." — Johnson conjectures " no BoU." — Here Steevens observes that " such interruptions are not uncommon in Shakespeare." But qy. ? P. 179. (9) " and thy father Was Duke of Milan ; thou his only heir, A princess, — no worse issued." The folio has " and his onely heire," which Hanmer coiTected, perceiving that the " and" was repeated by mistake from the preceding line. It also has " And Princesse: no worse Issued," which was con-ected by Pope. (In TJie Two Gentlemen of Verona, act iv. sc. 1, the first and second folios have " For practisiug to steale away a Lady, And heire," &c. ; in Henry VIII. act u. sc. 4, all the folios have " on the debating And Marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleance," &c. ; in King Lear, act i. sc. 1, the quartos have " She is her selfe and dower;" and in our author's cxxix*'' Sonnet the quarto has " and very wo," — in all four places " and" being a mistake for " a.") P. 180. (10) " lihe one Who having into truth by telling of it," &c. " The construction is, ' telling of it into truth.' Perhaps the ensuing ex- tracts wiU help to facilitate the apprehension of words so joined as in — ' teUing of it into truth.' ' Some feasible line of frontier which may also be discussed into familiarity.' The Times, Oct. 10, 1862. ' Tin he has thought a distasteful apprehension into an action of murder. ' South, Serm. 9, p. 281, vol. X. ed. 1744. ' Yet vice can never be praised into virtue.' Ibid. Serm. 8, p. 190, vol. viii. ' Swears him into name.' Jonson's Time Vindicated. ' By thanking thus the cowrtesy to life.' Jonson's Underwoods. ' To tell a lie into truth,' the language here attributed to Shakespeare, is not a whit more forced or ungrammatical than ' to discuss a frontier into familiarity,' 'to think an apprehension into an action,' ' to praise vice into virtue,' ' to swear a youth into name,' or ' to thank a courtesy to life.' " Arrowsmith's Shakespeare's Editors and Commentators, pp. 44-46. P. 180. (11) " Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough :" i.e. For me . . . large enough. — Compare Timon of Athens, act v. so. 1, " Whose thankless natures — O abhorrSd spirits ! — Not all the whips of heaven are large enough," &c. And in Measure for Measure, act ii. sc. 1, " this point which now you censm-e him." P. 180. (12) "with the King of Naples" Here the folio omits " the." — (In the preceding scene the folio has " Let's aU NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 239 Buike with' King" (i.e. " with the king") ; and here most probaMy the Mb. had the same mark of elision, to which the printer did not attend.) — Eowe printed " wi' th' King of Naiples ;" and so perhaps Shakespeare meant us to pronounce the words. P. 181. (13) " hearkens" " The pause seems too slight to admit of the extra syllable. Qu. ' harks' or ' hearks't" Walker's Grit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 1. — Pope printed " hears;" Theobald " hearks." P. 181. (14) "practice," i.e. contrivance, conspiracy. — The foKo has " ptirpose ;" but as that word occurs again ia the second line after this, I adopt here the reading of Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. P. 181. (15) " I, not remembering how I cried on't then, Will cry it o'er again: " The folio has " how I cride out then," &c. — Mr. W. N. Lettsom proposes " how I cried it then," &o. P. 181. (16) "boat," The foHo has " Butt." P. 181. (17) " had" The folio has "haue." P, 182. (18) " Now I arise ;— " I cannot dispel the obscurity which has always hung over these words. — Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector inserts here what Mr. Collier calls an "important and entirely new stage-direction," viz. " Putting on his robe again." — In my former edition I gave " Resumes his robe." — Mr. Staunton gives the words as spoken " [Aside to Ariel, above] ;" and cites, in con&'mation of that stage- direction, the conclusion of Prospero'a next speech, " Come away, servant, come ! I'm ready now : Approach my Ariel ; come !" P. 183. (19) " lightnings," The folio has " Lightning." P. 183. (20) " Seem'd" The folio has " Seeme." P. 183. (21) " My brave spirit/" Theobald printed " My brave, brave spirit .'" Hanmer, " That's my brave 240 THE TEMPEST. [notes. P. 184. (22) " Jww thou halt" "Perhaps, 'how hast thou.'" Walker's Orit. Exam. &c. toI. ii. p. 250. P. 184. (23) " At least," &c. Mr. Staunton points the passage thus ; " At least two glasses — the time, 'twixt six and now — Must by us both be spent most preciously," — and very erroneously, I think. P. 184. (24) "made no mistakings," The folio has "made thee no mistakings." P. 185. (25) " This blue-ey'd hag" It has been proposed to read " This hlear-ey'd hag." P. 186. (26) " What torment I did find thee in ; it was a torment" Walker (Crit. Exam. &c. vol. i. p. 296) conjectures " torture" instead of "torment" in the second of these lines; "but perhaps," he adds, "the corruption is deeper, and lies in the other place." P. 186. (27) " Go m,ake thyself like to a nymph 0' the sea : Be subject to no sight but mine ;" The folio has most ridiculously " Goe make thyselfe like [the second folio adds " to"] u, " Nymph 0' th' Sea, Be subiect to no sight but thine, and mine." P. 186. (28) " hence" The folio has "goe : hence," — the transcriber or compositor having caught the word " goe" from the preceding line. P. 187. (29) " Upon thy wicked dam As wicked dew" ffhough " wicked," as an epithet to " dew," makes very good sense (meaning baneful) , I suspect that it is not Shakespeare's word, and that it has been repeated by mistake from the line just above. P. 187. (30) " honeycomb," Has been altered to " honeycombs :" but unnecessarily, I believe. P. 187. (31) " When thou cam'st here first," The folio has " When thou cam'st first;" which is usually altered, veiy awk- wardly, to " When thou cameet first." — Walker says, "'cam'st here first,' surely" [Eitson's conjecture]. Crit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 2. NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 241 P. 188. (3z) "Pros." The folio has " Mira." P. 188. (33) " Deservedly confin'd into this rock, Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison." "I cannot help suspecting that ' deservedh/' has been foisted into the text ; ' Confined into this rock, who hadst deserv 'd More than a prison. ' Note the difference in the flow." Walker's Grit. Exam. &e. vol. i. p. 287. P. 188. (34) " thou'rt" Has been altered to " thmi wert," — which is here the meaning of the con- traction. P. 189. (35) " GowVsied when you have and kiss'd, — The wild waves whist, — " The punctuation of the folio is, " Gwrtsied when you haue, and kist the wilde wanes whist ;" which, of course, affords a meaning, viz. " when you have courtsied, and kissed the wild waves to silence." But I believe that Steevens was right in con- sidering the second line as parenthetical, — " The wild waves heing whist ;" the poet having had an eye to the ceremonies (the court'sying and kissing) which were foiinerly observed at the commencement of certain dances. P. 189. (36) " the burden bear." The folio has " beare the burthen." With the latter part of this song the Cambridge Editors make strange work when they print "Burthen ^dispersedly']. Hark, hark! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark : Bow-wow. Ari. Hark, hark 1 I hear," &o. P. 190. (37) "control" Mr. Staunton asks it this be " a misprint for console !" Surely not. ' Here " control" means confute : see Johnson ad I., and Walker's Grit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 303. P. 191. (38) " One word more ;" Has been altered, for the metre, to " Sir, one word more." P. 191. (39) " My fool my tutor .'" So Walker {Grit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 3), comparing Fletcher's Pilgrim, act iv. sc. 2, 242 THE TEMPEST. [notes. " When fools and mad-folks shall be tutors to me, And feel my sores, yet I unsensible," See. — The folio has "My foote my Tutor!" which is defended in the Var. Shake- speare by several passages that are nothing to the pnrpose, — among them, " My foot usurps my head," the faulty reading of one of the quartos of King Lear, act iv. sc. 2. P. 192. (40) " nor this man's threats To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me," Has been altered to " and [and " or"] this man's threats To whom I am subdu'd, were but light to me." But compare " Save" in the last line of the speech. P. 193. (41) " master" The folio has " Masters." P. 193. (42) "of woe:" An interpolation perhaps. P. 193. (43) " I prithee, spare." " Bead," says Walker (Crit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 265), " 'I prithee, spare me.'" P. 193. (44) " Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow t" Mr. W. N. Lettsom compares Midsummer-Night's Dream, act iii. sc. 2, " Now foUow, if thou dar'st, to try whose right. Of thine or mine, is most in Helena." And Walker (Crit. Exam. &a. vol. ii. p. 353) incidentally quotes from Sid- ney's Arcadia; " But then the question arising, who should be the former [i.e. the first to fight] against Phalantus, of the black or the ill-appareUed night," &c., — which (as Walker's editor observes) shofrs that the present passage of The Tempest is right. P. 194. (45) " Adi'. Though this island seem to be desert, — Seb. Sa, ha, ha ! — So, you're paid. Adr. Uninhabitable," The folio has " Adrr. Though this Island seeme to be desert. Seb. Ha, ha, ha. Ant. 80 : you'r paid. Adr. Vninhabitable." P. 194. (46) " their freshness and gloss," The folio has " their freshnesse and glosses," — where " glosses" is manifestly an error for the old spelling of the singular, " glosse" (which the folio has in NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 243 Macbeth, act i. so. 7, " in their newest glosse") .—This coi-reotion was suggested to me by Mr. Swynfen Jervis. P. 195. (47) "Alon." The folio has " ffon."— Mr. Staunton was the first to see that " this sigh or exclamation belongs to Alonso, who is awaking from his trance of giief." P. 196. (48) "she'd bow." So Malone. — The folio has " should bow." P. 196. (49) "on't," Has been altered, for the sake of the metre, to " of it :" but compare line 8, next page. P. 197. (50) " Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ;" Hanmer printed " tilth,vineyard, olives [Capell " olive"] , none." — Walker says; "After 'tilth,' 'pasture,' or some synonymous word, seems to have been lost." Grit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 16. P. 197. (51) " Seb. Save his majesty ! Ant. Juong live Gonzalo !" Walker (Grit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 215) would read and arrange, — " Seb. God save his majesty ! Ant. Long live Gonzalo !" P. 199. (52) '"hath here almost persuaded, — " &c. Something, surely, is wrong here. " I cannot help," says Steevens, " regard- ing the words ' Professes to persuade ' as a mere gloss or paraphrase on ' he has [he's] a spirit of persuasion.' Bead the passage without these words ; ' hath here almost persuaded (For he's a spirit of persuasion only) The king his son's alive ; 'tis as impossible That he's undrown'd as he that sleeps here swims. Seb. I have no hope That he's undrown'd.' " P. 199. (53) " doubts" The folio has " doubt." P. 200. (54) " she from whom" " i.e. in coming from whom. The old copy has ' she that from,' See. The compositor's eye probably glanced on a preceding line, ' she that from Naples.' The emendation was made by Mr. Eowe." Malone.— Mr. Collier's Ms. Cor- rector reads " she for whom." 244 THE TEMPEST. [notes. P. 200. (55) " How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ?" Hanmer printed " How shalt thou, Claribel, Measv/re it back to Naples P' and Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector agrees with him in reading "it." P. 200. (56) "and" Not m the folio. P. 201. (57) " that's dead;" " The words ' that's dead' (as Dr. Farmer observes to me) are evidently a gloss, or marginal note, which had fonnd its way into the text. Such a sup- plement is useless to the speaker's meaning, and one of the verses [the next one] becomes redundant by its insertion." Steevens. P. 201. (58) " My master through Ms art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in ; and sends me forth, — For else his prefect dies, — to keep thee living." The folio has " — — to keepe them liuing." — Johnson's conjecture, " Tliat these, his friends, are in ... .to keep them living," was adopted by Steevens : but we cannot suppose that Ariel, under any circumstances, would style Alonso one of Prospero's friends, when Prospero himself uses such terms as the following ; " This King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate," &c. p. 181. ^ " Most cruelly Did thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter," &c. p. 228. Malone proposed " and sends me forth. For else his projects die, to keep them [i.e. his projects] living," — which introduces what appears to me a rather awkward construction : be- sides, the plural " projects" is at variance with the language of two later passages in this play, — " Now does my project gather to a head," &c., p. 226, and " or else jay project fails," p. 236. The alteration which I have made here, — that of " them" to " thee," — suggested itself, I see, to Mr. HaUiweU also : though he has preferred the conjecture of Malone. 1863. I now find that Hanmer substituted "to ft«cp you K«7i5." But, as various passages of our author show, there is not the least objection to " thee" and " you" in the same sentence. P. 201. (59) " Gon. [waking] Now, good angels Preserve the king ! — [To Seb. and Ant.] Why, how now ! — [To Alon.] Ho, awake ! — [To Seb. and Ant.] Why are you drawn ? wherefore this ghastly looking ? Alon. [waking] What's the matter ?" NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 245 The folio has " Gon. Now, good Angels presenie the King. Alo. Why how now hoa ; awake? why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking ? Gon. What's the matter ?" Mr. Staunton was the first editor who deviated from the folio in distrihuting these speeches ; and I have attempted to improve somewhat upon his dis- trihution. "In the old copy, and in every suhsequent edition," observes Mr. Staunton, " this speech L' W'ky, haw now ! ho, awake,' &o.] is given to the king, and the next to GonzaJo ; but erroneously, as we think is evident from the language, the business of the scene, and from what Gonzalo pre- sently says ; ' I heard a humming. And that a strange one too, which did awake me : I shak'd you, sir, and cried : as mine eyes open'd, I saw their weapons dravm.' " P. 202. (60) " That's verity." The folio has " That's verily." — Most probably Steevens was right in giving the remainder of the line thus, — " Best stand upon our guard :" he compares " Best draw my sword," in Gymbeline, act iii. so. 3. P. 204. (61) " savages" " The folio reads — ' salvages,' and rightly. It was the spelling and pronun- ciation of the time." So says worthy Isaac Reed, — who ought to have known that the foHo, like other books of that date, is quite inconsistent in its spelling: e.g. earlier in the present play, p. 188, it has "when thou didst not [Sauage)," &o. ; in Love's Labour's lost, act iv. so. 3, it has " a rude and sauage man of Inde ;" and again in the same play, act v. sc. 2, " That we (like sauages) may worship it." (In Shelton's Bon Quixote, Part Sec, p. 261, ed. 1620, we find; " f oure Sauages eutred the Garden," &o., and, six lines after, " the Saluage replied," &c.) P. 204. (62) " of s nostrils." The folio has " at' nostrils." P. 205. (63) " Ste. Here ; swear, then, how thou escapedst." This is very suspicious. Pope gave " Ste. Here, swear, then : how eeoapedst thou?" and Ritson says ; " The passage should probably he printed thus : ' Ste. [To Gal.] Here, swear then. — [To Trin.] How escapedst thou ?' The speaker would naturally take notice of Caliban's proffered allegiance. Besides, he bids Trinculo kiss the book after he has answered the question ; a sufficient proof of the rectitude of the proposed arrangement." But Bit- son's alteration is opposed by a portion of Stephano's preceding speech — ■ " swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither." P. 206. (64) " Young scamels from the rock." Here "scamels" has been explained as the diminutive of scams, and as mean- 246 THE TEMPEST. [notes. ing — limpets. But I have little or no doubt that it is a misprint : for who gathers yocno limpets ? and besides, the words "from the rock" would seem to be equivalent to "from the cliffs." Theobald substituted " shamois," and also proposed " sea-malls" (or " sea-mells"), and " stannels" (or " staniels"). — Of the last of these conjectures (" staniels") I was not aware, when in my Remarks on Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knight's eds. of Shakespeare, p. 5, 1 wrote as follows: — "Mr. Enight is mistaken in supposing that there is no such word as ' sea-mall.' E. Holme, after describing the Sea-Mew, has a separate article on ' The Sea Mall ,- the biU white, but yellow towards the tip, bend- ing towards the point ; the feet of a pale green, claws Mack,' &C. Acad, of Armory, 1688, B. ii. p. 262. But though there is imdoubtedly such a word as ' sea-mall,' and though perhaps there is also such a word as ' sea-meU,' it by no means follows that ' scameW (without a hyphen and with a single X) should be a misprint for either ' sea-malls' or ' sea-mells.' " Qy. is the right reading ' staniels' ? In the first place, ' staniels' comes very near the trace of the old letters, — staniels. Secondly, ' staniels' accords well with the context, 'from the rock ," for the ' Kestrel, Stannel, or Wiudhover ... is one of our most common species [of hawks] , especially in the more rocky situations and high cliffs on out- coasts, where they breed.' Montagu's Ornith. Diet. Thirdly, in another passage of Shakespeare, where nobody doubts that the genuine reading is ' staniel,' all the old eds. exhibit the gross misprint, ' stallion ;' ' And with what wing the stallion checks at it !' Twelfth Night, act ii. so. 5." (A critic in The Gentleman's Magazine for June 1844, p. 566, citing from an old ornithologist "Aapos, gavia, a sea-cob, or seagell," declares thaf'sea- gells" is the light word here ! Again, in the same miscellany for June 1845, p. 582, he objects to the reading " staniels," because " all that Caliban pro- mised to give Trinoulo [Stephano] were things that could be eaten:" but did Caliban mean that his new friend should eat " the nimble marmoset" ?) P. 206. (65) " iear my bottle :" According to the Cambridge Editors, CapeU was wrong in inserting here the stage-direction " [To Cal.'] ;" for it appears from the words of Caliban, in p. 212, " And take his bottle from him," that Trinculo was intrusted with the care of the bottle. Perhaps so. But in a stiU later scene Trinculo talks of " om- bottles," f. 224. P. 207. (66) " trencher," The folio has " trenchering," which is undoubtedly an error of the transcriber or compositor, occasioned by the preceding words, " &Hng" and " requiring." P. 207. (67) " '"'1^ their labour Delight in them sets off:" Pope printed " but their labour," &c. — The foUo has " set off." NOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 247 P. 207. (68) " 'tis" Pope's addition ; which Malone and Boswell would persuade us is unneces- sary. P. 207. (69) " But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labowr ; Most busiless when I do it." The folio has " But these sweet thoughts, doe euen refresh my lahours, Most busie lest [the second folio " least"], when I doe it." After much consideration, I now (1863) adopt, in this very diCacult passage, the reading of Theobald, " Most busiless," as far more satisfactory, on the whole, than any of the numerous emendations which have been proposed. — WalKer has adduced from Sylvester's Bubartas (that once so famous tome) the following instances of words formed like " busiless ;" " Week i. Day i. ed. 1641, p. 4, col. 2, ' Alas 1 how faithless, and how modestless [Pr. " de honte vuides"'\. Are you, that in your ephemerides Mark th' year, the month, the [read " and"] day,' &c. [Day] vii. [of Week i.] p. 60, col. 2, ' Fond Epicure, thou . vainly fraudulent (Not shunning th' atheist's sin, but punishment) Imaginest [read " Imagined'st"] a God, so perfect-less [Pr. "im- parfait"1, In works defying whom thy words profess.' [Day] ii. [of Week] ii. [Part] iv. p. 142, col. 2, ' jet firm-less [Fr. has no corresponding word] in affects, It faUs in love with subtle Grecian wits.' [Day] iv. [of Week u. Part] iU. p. 220, col. 2, ' Th' unsavory breath of serpents crawling o're The Lybians pest-fuU and un-blest-full [Pr. has no corresponding word] shore.' " Grit. Exam. &o. vol. ii. p. 286. (Walker also cites "Kyd, Translation of Gamier's Cornelia, i. Dodsley, vol. ii. p. 250," as affording an instance of the word " worthiless ;" but on turning to the rare old 4to of Kyd's Cornelia, 1594, sig. B 2, I find that it there has " worthily" (to say nothing of "plus digne" in the original French of Gar- nier, — Tragedies, &c. p. 103, ed. 1616), and oonseijuently that the " worthi- less" which Walker unsuspectingly quotes is one of the thousand blunders of Dodsley and his editors. — Both Dr. Johnson and Dr. Richardson have admitted "busiless" into their respective Dictionaries on the strength of Theobald's conjecture. Of the other attempts to amend the present passage I may mention, — Pope's " Least busy wjfen Ido it;" Holt White's "MosthTisiestwhen I do it;" Mr, Collier's Ms. Corrector's "Most busy -blest when I do it;" Mr. Staunton's "Most busy felt when I do it;" and Mr. Spedding's " Most busiest when idlest." — On the last of these conjectures Mr. W. N. Lettsom remarks ; " It appears to me to invert the sense required by the context, which is (at least 248 THE TEMPEST. [notes. if this half -line refers to Ferdinand himself, not to his thonghts) ' Most idlest when most busiest.' " Just as I am about to send the present note to press, Mr. John Porster writes to me as follows ; " I hope yon will not hesitate to adopt Theobald's reading, ' busiless,' in the much-vexed passage of The Tempest. Pope, in making the alteration, ' Least busy when I do it,' saw what was the meaning required ; though he failed to see, as Theobald did, how slight a correction would produce that meaning in the form of a word wherein no greater license was taken than has been in many other instances conceded to the poet. — Ferdinand is not, as Spedding's undoubtedly ingenious suggestion would make him, ' Most busiest when idlest :' his case is the reverse of that ; he is most idlest when busiest. On the other hand, Holt White's ' Most busiest when I do it' contradicts the sense of the preceding line ; and Staunton's 'Most busy felt when I do it' seems to me sheer nonsense." P. 209. (703 " // you'll sit down," &c. See note 89. P. 209. (71) " This wooden slavery than to suffer tamely" The folio has merely " This wodden slauerie, then to suffer," — the line being undoubtedly mutilated. Pope printed " This wooden slavery than I would suffer :" but Malone has taken some pains to show (and perhaps success- fully) that the old reading " ' to suffer' is right, however ungrammatical." P. 209. (72) " what" Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector reads " aught" (a repudiated conjecture of Ma- lone's). P. 210. (73) " with a bottle." See note 65. P. 211. (74) "mutineer, — " So the foKo ["mutineere"). But it is questionable it Shakespeare did not write here " mutiner," the more usual spelling of the word : in Goriolamts, act i. sc. 1, we have "Worshipful mutiners." P. 211. (75) " To hearken once again to the suit I made to thee !" Should most probably be " To hearken once again the suit I made thee ?" P. 211. (76) " Cal. As I told thee before," &c. I quite agree with Steevens in thinking that Caliban was intended always to speak in verse ; and I therefore believe that the present speech is corrupted, because it defies any tolerable metrical arrangement. P. 211. (77) " I'tt 'erve thee." " Rather, I think, ' / will serve thee ;' for I doubt whether an emphasis was intended to be laid on ' thee.' " Walker's Grit. Exam. &e. vol. iii. p. 5. BOTES.] THE TEMPEST. 249 P. 212. (78) " I'll go further off." Wrongly altered in the second folio to " He goe no fwi-ther off." P. 212. (79) " give thee the lie. — " So the fourth folio.— The earlier folios omit " thee." P. 212. (80) " then thou mayst hrain him," The folio has "there thou," &c.— Long before I learned that the alteration of "there" to "then" had oocurred to Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector, it was suggested to me by the subsequent "Wilt thou destroy him then?" and, though in my former edition I retained the old reading, I now hold the altera- tion to be absolutely necessary. P. 212. (81) "deek't" So Hanmer (and so Walker, Grit. Exam. &o. vol. iii. p. 5). — The folio has " decke." P. 213. (82) " I ne'er saw woman," The folio has " I neuer saw a woman." P. 213. (83) "scout" The folio has " cout." P. 214. (84) " Sometime" The folio has " Sometimes :" but see the next line ; and compare " Sometime . . , sometime" in Caliban's speech, p. 202. P. 214. (85) " Wilt come t" The folio makes these words commence the next speech. — Eitson saw the proper distribution. P. 215. (86) " did lie," Hanmer reads, and very plausibly, " lied." P. 215. (87) "islanders,—" So the second folio. — The first folio has " Islands." P. 216. (88) " Each putter-out of one for five" The foKo has " of&uefor one," — which Mr. Knight and Mr. CoUier con- sider as equivalent to — " Each putter-out at the rate of five for one :" but the words could not bear that meaning. I adopt (with Malone and Mr. Halli- well) the emendation of ThMby. (In a note on Jonson's Works, ii. 72, Gifford observes ; " Thus, too, Shakespeare, ' Each putter-out of one for five, — as Malone properly reads," &c.) — 1863. The Cambridge Editors retain the reading of the folio, " Each putter-out of&vefor one," with the foUowing note ; " See Beaumont and Fletcher, The Noble Gentleman, i. i. (Vol. ii. p. 261, ed. Moxon) : 'The return will give you five for one.' Maeine is about to travel ;" — a note in which they evidently confound "putting out five for one" with "receiving five for one," and show, besides, that they are imperfectly acqtiaiuted with the story of the play they quote. 250 THE TEMPEST. [notes. P. 216. (89) " Alon. I will stand to, and feed, Although my last : no matter, since I feel The best is past.—" " I cannot but think that this passage was intended to he in rhyme, and should be printed thus : ' I will stand to and feed ; although my last, No matter, since I feel the best is past.' " Mason. But a greater objection to such an arrangement than what would arise from breaking the (Tvvd Val. Forbear,—" Here, probably, the "And" ought to be omitted.— Malone, speaking of Stee- vens's metrical arrangement of this passage, observes, with disgusting ab- surdity, " So that even the Outlaws are compelled to proclaim, that they have got a booty, in blank- verse :" — and why should they not? P. 323. (109) " Milano shall not hold thee." So Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector (see note 48).— The folio has "Verona shall not hold thee;" which Malone, Mr. Staunton, Mr. Grant White, and the Cam- 340 THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VEEONA. [notes. bridge Editors retain. — Theotald gave " Milan shall not behold tliee;" Han- mer, " AndMnan shall not hold tftee."— Mr. HaUiweU prints "Milan e'en sftaU not hold thee." P. 323. (no) "To make such means" See note no on Midsummer-Night's Dream. P. 323. (i 1 1) " Cancel all grudge," " Can ' grudge' be thus used in the singular? [In other words, — Ought we not to print 'grudge',' marked as a plural?]" Walker's Shakespeare's Ver- sification, &c. p. 254. P. 323. (iia) "include" A doubtful reading, — was altered by Hanmer to " conclude;" and so Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. P. 824. (113) " What think you of this page, my lord?" " Possibly, ' my worthy lord?' " Walker's Crit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 261. — Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector reads " What think you of this stripling page, my lord?" P. 324. (i 14) " that saying ?" Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector gives " that saying, Valentine?" THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [ 343 j THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. Was entered in the StationerB' Registers thus : " 18 Jan. 1601 [-2] . John Bushby] An excellent and pleasant conceited commedie of Sir John Paulstof and the Merry wyves of Windesor. " Arth. Johnson] By assignment from Jno. Bushye a B [ook] , An excel- lent and pleasant conceited comedie of Sir John Eajilstaf e and the mery -wyves ofWindsor;" and accordingly it was published by Johnson in 1602, 4to. That edition, however (reprinted in 1619), is comparatively little more than an out- line of the play, which was first given in its present full and perfect state in the folio of 1623 ; and I scarcely entertain a doubt that the quarto of 1602 is a surreptitious, much mutilated, and veiy inaccurate text of the author's first sketch of The Merry Wives of Windsor, — of the comedy as originally per- formed " both before herMaiestie and elsewhere;" and that the folio of 1623 exhibits it as subsequently altered and amplified by Shakespeare. — Malone supposes that this comedy was written in 1601 ; Mr. Collier that it was " brought out in the commencement of the summer season of 1600" {Introd. to the Merry Wives of Windsor) ; and I am strongly inclined to think that it was produced somewhat earlier. — "It should be read," says Johnson, " between King Henry IV. and Kin^ Henry V. ;" no, says Malone, " it ought rather to be read between The First and The Second Part of King Henry IV. :" in good truth, " it should be read between" none of them, — being, as a story, complete in all its parts. — For the "sources of the plot" of The Merry Wives of Windsor we are referred to the following tales ; and it is possible that the EngKsh ones at least (which, with the exception of the tale in Westward for Smelts, &c. are taken from the Italian) may have afforded some hints to Shakespeare : — -two tales in Le Piacevoli Notti of Straparola, — Notte ii. Favola i, and Notte iv. Favola 4 ; a tale in II Pecorone of Ser Gio- vanni Fiorentino, — Giomdta i. Novella 2 ; a tale, " Two friends went to study at Bologna in Italy," See. (from H Pecorone), in The Fortunate, the Deceived, and the Unfortunate Lovers, 1632, of which, according to Steevens, there are several editions ; " The Tale of the two lovers of Pisa, and why they were whipt in Purgatory with nettles" (from Le Piacevoli Notti), in Tarlton's Newes out of Purgatorie, n. d., but entered in the Stationers' Registers 1590 ; and " The Fishwife's Tale of Brainford," in Westward for Smelts, &o. of which no earlier edition than that of 1620 is at present known. (AU these may be read in an Appendix to The First Sketch of Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor, edited by Mr. HaUiwell for the Shakespeare Society, 1842.) DRAMATIS PERSONS. Sib John Falstaff. Fenton, a yoimg gentleman. Shallow, a country justice. Slendeb, cousin to Shallow. „ ' > two gentlemen dwelling at Windsor. Page, j William Page, a boy, son to Page. Sib Hugh Evans, a Welsh parson. DocTOB Caius, a French physician. Host of the Garter Inn. Babdolph, "] Pistol, > followers of Falstaff. Ntm, ) Robin, page to Falstaff. Simple, servant to Slender. EuGBT, servant to Doctor Caius. MlBTEESS FOED. MiSTBESs Page. Anne Page, her daughter. MisTEESs Quickly, servant to Doctor Caius. Servants to Page, Ford, &c. SoENE — Windsor, and the neighbourhood. THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. ACT I. Scene I. Windsor. Before Page's house. Enter Justice Shallow, Slbndbb, and Sm Hugh Evans. Shal. Sir Hugh, persuade me not ; I will make a Star- Chamber matter of it : if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Eobert Shallow, esquire. Slen. In the county of Gloster, justice of peace and coram. Shal. Ay, cousin Slender, and cust-alorum. Slen. Ay, and rato-lorum too; and a gentleman born, master parson ; who writes himself armigero, — in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, armigero. Shal. Ay, that I do ; and have done any time these three hundred years. Slen. All his successors gone before him have done 't ; and all his ancestors that come after him may : they may give the dozen white luces in their coat. Shal. It is an old coat. Evans. The dozen white louses do become an old coat well ; it agrees well, passant ; it is a familiar beast to man, and signifies — love. Shal. The luce is the fresh fish ; the salt fish is an old coat. Slen. I may quarter, coz ? Shal. You may, by marrying. Evans. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it. Shal. Not a whit. 346 THE MEBRY WIVES OF WINDSOB. [aci i. Evans. Yes, py'r lady ; if he has a quarter of your coat, there is but three skirts for yourself, in my simple conjec- tures : but that is all one. If Sir John Falstaff have com- mitted disparagements unto you, I am of the church, and will be glad to do my benevolence to make atonements and corn- premises between you. Shal. The Council shall hear it ; it is a riot. Evans. It is not meet the Council hear a riot ; there is no fear of Got in a riot : the Council, look you, shall desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a riot ; take your vizaments in that. Shal. Ha ! o' my life, if I were young again, the sword should end it. Evans. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it : and there is also another device in my prain, which perad- venture prings goot discretions with it : — there is Anne Page, which is daughter to Master George Page,*^' which is pretty virginity. Slen. Mistress Anne Page ! She has brown hair, and speaks small like a woman. Evans. It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you will desire ; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed (Got deliver to a joyful resurrections !) give, when she is able to overtake seventeen years old : it were a goot motion if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage between Master Abraham and Mistress Anne Page. Shal.'^^ Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound? Evans. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny. Shal. I know the young gentlewoman ; she has good gifts. Evans. Seven hundred pounds and possibilities is goot gifts. Shal. Well, let us see honest Master Page, Is Falstaff there ? Evans. Shall I tell you a lie ? I do despise a liar as I do despise one that is false, or as I despise one that is not true. The knight. Sir John, is there ; and, I beseech you, be ruled by your well-willers. I wUl peat the door for Master Page. {Knocks'] What, ho ! Got pless your house here ! Page, [appearing above'] Who's there ? aoENE I.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 347 Evans. Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and Jus- tice Shallow; and here young Master Slender, that perad- ventures shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings. * Enter Page. Page. I am glad to see your worships well. I thank you for my venison. Master Shallow. Shal. Master Page, I am glad to see you : much good do it your good heart ! I wished your venison better ; it was ill tilled.— How doth good Mistress Page? — and I thank you always with my heart, la ; with my heart. Page. Sir, I thank you. Shal. Sir, I thank you ; by yea and no, I do. Page. I am glad to see you, good Master Slender. Slen. How does your fallow greyhound, sir ? I heard say he was outrun on Cotsol'. Page.' It could not be judged, sir. Slen. You'll not confess, you'll not confess. Shal. That he will not. — 'Tis your fault, 'tis your fault : — 'tis a good dog. Page. A cur, sir. Shal. Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog : can there be more said ? he is good and fair. — Is Sir John Falstaff here ? Page. Sir, he is within ; and I would I could do a good office between you. Evans. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak. Shal. He hath wronged me. Master Page. Page. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it. Shal. If it be confessed, it is not redressed : is not that so. Master Page ? He hath wronged me ; indeed he hath ; — at a word, he hath; — believe me; Robert Shallow, esquire, saith he is wronged. Page. Here comes Sir, John. Enter Sm John Falstafp, Bardolph, Nyu, and Pistol. Fal. Now, Master Shallow, — you'll complain of me to the king? Shal. Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my deer, and broke open my lodge. Fal. But not kissed your keeper's daughter ? 348 THE MEBEY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act i. Shal. Tut, a pin ! this shall be answered. Fal. I will answer it straight; I have done all this: — that is now answered. Shal. The Council shall know this. Fal. 'Twere better for you if it were known in counsel : you'll be laughed at. Evans. Pauca verba, Sir John, goot worts.® Fal. Good worts ! good cabbage. — Slender, I broke your head : what matter have you against me ? Slen. Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against you : and against your cony-catching rascals, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol ; they carried me to the tavern and made me drunk, and afterward picked my pocket. Bard. You Banbury cheese ! Slen. Ay, it is no matter. Pist. How now, Mephostophilus ! Slen. Ay, it is no matter. Nym. Slice, I say ! pauca, pauca ; slice ! that's my hu- mour. Slen. Where's Simple, my man ? — can you tell, cousin ? Evans. Peace, I pray you. — Now let us understand. There is three umpires in this matter, as I understand ; that is. Master Page, Jidelicet Master Page ; and there is myself, Jidelicet myself; and the three party is, lastly and finally, mine host of the Garter. Page. We three, to hear it and end it between them. Evans. Fery goot : I wUl make a prief of it in my note- book; and we will afterwards ork upon the cause with as great discreetly as we can. Fal. Pistol,— Pist. He hears with ears. Evans. The tevil and his tam ! what phrase is this, "He hears with ear"? why, it is affectations. Fal. Pistol, did you pick Master Slender's purse ? Slen. Ay, by these gloves, did he — or I would I might never come in mine own great chamber again else — of seven groats in mill-sixpences, and two Edward shovel-boards, that cost me two shilling and two pence a-piece of Yead Miller, by these gloves. Fal. Is this true, Pistol ? SCENE I.] THE MEERY WIVES OP WINDSOB. 349 Evans. No ; it is false, if it is a pick-purse. Pist. Ha, thou mountain-foreigner ! — Sir John and mas- ter mine, I combat challenge of this latten bilbo. — Word of denial in th j labras here ; Word of denial : — froth and scum, thou liest ! Slen. By these gloves, then, 'twas he. Nym. Be avised, sir, and pass good humours : I will say "marry trap" with you, if you run the nuthook's humour on me ; that is the very note of it. Slen. By this hat, then, he in the red face had it; for though I cannot remember what I did when you made me drunk, yet I am not altogether an ass. Fal. Wha,t say you. Scarlet and John ? Bard. Why, sir, for my part, I say the gentleman had drunk himself out of his five sentences,-^ Evans. It is his five senses : fie, what the ignorance is ! Bard. And being fap, sir, was, as they say, cashiered ; and so conclusions passed the careers. Slen. Ay, you spake in Latin then too ; but 'tis no mat- ter : I'll ne'er be drunk whilst I live again, but in honest, civil, godly company, for this trick : if I be drunk, I'll be drunk with those that have the fear of God, and not with drunken knaves. Evans. So Got udge me, that is a virtuous mind. Fal. You hear all these matters denied, gentlemen ; you hear it. JEnter Anne Page, with wine ; Mistress Ford and MiBTEBSs Page. Page. Nay, daughter, carry the wine in; we'll drink witliiii- [Exit Anne Page. Slen. heaven ! this is Mistress Anne Page. Page. How now. Mistress Ford ! Fal. Mistress Ford, by my troth, you are very well met : by your leave, good mistress. [Kisses her. Page. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome. — Come, we have a hot venison-pasty to dinner : come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink down all unkindness. [Exeimt all except Shal, Slen., and Evans. VOL. 1. ^^ 350 THE MEREY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act i. Slen. I had rather than forty shillings I had my Book of Songs and Sonnets here. Enter Simple. How now, Simple ! where have you been ? I must wait on myself, must I ? You have not the Book of Biddies about you, have you ? Sim. Book of Riddles ! why, did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last, a fortnight afore Michael- mas ?'* Shal. Come, coz ; come, coz ; we stay for you. A word with you, coz; marry, this, coz; — there is, as 'twere, a tender, a kind of tender, made afar off by Sir Hugh here. Do you understand me ? Slen. Ay, sir, you shall find me reasonable ; if it be so, I shall do that that is reason. Shal. Nay, but understand me. Slen. So I do, sir, Evans. Give ear to his motions. Master Slender : I will description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it. Slen. Nay, I will do as my cousin Shallow says : I pray you, pardon me ; he's a justice of peace in his country, sim- ple though I stand here. Evans. But that is not the question : the question is con- cerning your marriage. Shal. Ay, there's the point, sir. Evans. Marry, is it ; the very point of it ; to Mistress Anne Page. Slen. Why, if it be so, I will marry her upon any reason- able demands. Evans. But can you affection the oman ? Let us com- mand to know that of your mouth or of your lips ; for di- vers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth. Therefore, precisely, can you carry your good will to the maid? Shal. Cousin Abraham Slender, can you love her ? Slen. I hope, sir, I will do as it shall become one that would do reason. Evans. Nay, Got's lords and his ladies, you must speak positable, if you can carry her your desires towards her. SCENE 1.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 351 Shal. That you must. Will you, upon good dowry, marry her? Slen. I will do a greater thing than that, upon your re- quest, cousin, in any reason. Shal. Nay, conceive me, conceive me, sweet coz : what I do is to pleasure you, coz. Can you love the maid ? Slen. I will marry her, sir, at your request : but if there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and have more occasion to know one another ; I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt :'°' but if you say, "marry her," I will marry her ; that I am freely dissolved, and dissolutely. Evans. It is a fery discretion answer ; save the faul^® is in the ort " dissolutely :" the ort is, according to our meaning, " resolutely :" — ^his meaning is goot. Shal. Ay, I think my cousin meant well. Slen. Ay, or else I would I might be hanged, la. Shal. Here comes fair Mistress Anne. Re-enter Anne Page. Would I were young for your sake. Mistress Anne ! Anne. The dinner is on the table ; my father desires your worships' company. Shal. I will wait on him, fair Mistress Anne. Evans. Od's plessed will! I will not be absence at the grace. [Exeunt Shallow and Evans. Anne. Will't please your worship to come in, sir ? Slen. No, I thank you, forsooth, heartily ; I am very well. Anne. The dinner attends you, sir. Slen. I am not a-hungry, I thank you, forsooth. — Go, sirrah, for all you are my man, go wait upon my cousin Shallow. [Exit Simple.] A justice of peace sometime may be beholding 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 worship : they will not sit till you come. Slen. T faith, I'll eat nothing ; I thank you as much as though I did. Anne. I pray you, sir, walk in. 352 THE MEEEY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act i. Slen. I had rather walk here, I thank you. I bruised my shin th' other day with playing at sword and dagger with a master of fence, — three veneys for a dish of stewed prunes ; and, by my troth, I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since. — Why do your dogs bark so ? be there bears i' the town ? Anne. I think there are, sir ; I heard them talked of. Slen. I love the sport well ; but I shall as soon quarrel at it as any man in England. — You are afraid, if you see the bear loose, are you not ? Anne. Ay, indeed, sir. Slen. That's meat and drink to me, now. I have seen Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken him by the chain ; but, I warrant you, the women have so cried and shrieked at it, that it passed : — but women, indeed, cannot abide 'em ; they are very ill-favoured rough things. Re-enter Page. Page. Come, gentle Master Slender, come ; we stay for you. Slen. I'll eat nothing, I thank you, sir. Page. By cock and pie, you shall not choose, sir : come, come. Slen. Nay, pray you, lead the way. Page. Come on, sir. Slen. Mistress Anne, yourself shall go first. Anne. Not I, sir ; pray you, keep on. Slen. Truly, I will not go first ; truly, la ; I will not do you that wrong. Anne. I pray you, sir. Slen. I'll rather be unmannerly than troublesome. You do yourself wrong, indeed, la. [Exeunt. Scene II. An outer room in Page's house. Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple. Evans. Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house which is the way: and there dwells one Mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his try nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer. SCENE III.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 353 Sim. Well, sir. Evans. Nay, it is petter yet. — Give her this letter ; for it is a Oman that altogether's acquaintance with Mistress Anne Page : and the letter is, to desire and require her to solicit your master's desires to Mistress Anne Page. I pray you, be gone : I will make an end of my dinner ; there's pippins and seese^^ to come. lExeimt, Scene III. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter FalstaVp, Host, Bardolph, Ntm, Pistol, and Eobin. Fal. Mine host of the Garter, — Host. What says my bully-rook? speak scholarly and wisely. Fal. Truly, mine host, I must turn away some of my followers. Host. Discard, bully Hercules ; cashier : let th6m wag ; trot, trot. Fal. I sit at ten pounds a-week. Host. Thou'rt an emperor, CaBsar, Keisar, and Pheezar. I will entertain Bardolph ; he shall draw, he shall tap : said I well, bully Hector ? Fal. Do so, good mine host. Host. I have spoke; let him follow. — Let me see thee froth and lime :® I am at a word ; follow. [Exit. Fal. Bardolph, follow him. A tapster is a good trade : an old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered serving-man a fresh tapster. Go; adieu. Bard. It is a life that I have desired : I will thrive. Pist. base Hungarian wight ! wilt thou the spigot wield ?<^' . [Exit Bardolph. Nym. He was gotten in drink : is not the humour con- ceited ? Fal. I am glad I am so acquit of this tinder-box : his thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful singer, — he kept not time. Nym. The good humour is to steal at a minim's rest.^^® Pist. '• Convey" the wise it caU. " Steal" ! fob ! a fico for the phrase ! 354 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act i. Fal. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels. Pist. Why, then, let kihes ensue. Fal. There is no remedy ; I must cony-catch ; I must shift. Pist. Young ravens must have food. Fal. Which of you know Ford of this town ? Pist. I ken the wight : he is of substance good. Fal. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about. Pist. Two yards, and more. Fal. No quips now, Pistol : — indeed, I am in the waist two yards about ; but I am now about no waste ; I am about thrift. Briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife : I spy enter- tainment in her ; she discourses, she carves,'^" she gives the leer of invitation : I can construe the action of her famUiar style ; and the hardest voice of her behaviour, to be Englished . rightly, is, " I am Sir John Falstaff's." Pist. He hath studied her well, and translated her well,''^' — out of honesty into English. Nym. The anchor is deep : wUl that humour pass ? Fal. Now, the report goes she has all the rule of her hus- band's purse — he hath a legion of angels.*^" Pist. As many devils entertain ; and, " To her, boy," say I. Nym. The humour rises ; it is good : humour me the angels. Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her : and here another to Page's wife, who even now gave me good eyes too, exa- mined my parts with most judicious oeilliads ; sometimes the beam of her view gilded my foot, sometimes my portly belly. Pist. Then did the sun on dunghiU shine. Nym. I thank thee for that humour. Fal. 0, she did so course o'er my exteriors with such a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye did seem to scorch me up like a burning-glass ! Here's another letter to her : she bears the purse too ; she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I wiU be cheater to them both,'^** and they shall be exchequers to me ; they shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to them both. Go bear thou this letter to Mistress Page ; and thou this to Mistress Ford : we will thrive, lads, we will thrive. SCENE IV.] THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 355 Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become, And by my side wear steel ? then, Lucifer take all ! Nym. I will run no base humour : here, take the humour- letter : I will keep the haviour of reputation. Fal. [to Robin] Hold, sirrah, bear you these letters tightly; Sail like my pinnace to the golden shores. — '^*' [Exit Robin. Eogues, hence, avaunt ! vanish like hailstones, go ; Trudge, plod away o' th' hoof ;*^^' seek shelter, pack ! Falstaff will learn the humour of the age, French thrift, you rogues ; myself and skirted page. [Exit. Pist. Let vultures gripe thy guts ! for gourd and fullam hold. And high and low beguile the rich and poor : Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk ! Nym. I have operations in my head, which be humours of revenge. Pist. Wilt thou revenge ? Nym. By welkin and her stars !*"' Pist. With wit or steel ? Nym. With both the humours, I : I will discuss the humour of this love to Page, Pist. And I to Ford shall eke unfold How Falstaff, varlet vile. His dove will prove, his gold will hold. And his soft couch defile. Nym. My humour shall not cool : I will incense Page'^** to deal with poison ; I will possess him with yellowness, for this revolt of mine'^*' is dangerous : that is my true humour. Pist. Thou art the Mars of malcontents : I second thee ; troop on. [Exeunt. Scene IV. A room in Doctob Caius's house. Enter Mistress Quicklt and Simple. Quick. What, John Eugby ! Enter Eugbt. I pray thee, go to the casement, and see if you can see my 356 THE MERBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act i. master, Master Doctor Caius, coming. If he do, i' faith, and find any body in the house, here will be an old abusing of Grod's patience and the king's English. Rug. I'll go watch. Quick. Go; and we'll have a posset for't soon at night, in faith, at the latter end of a sea-coal fire. \_Exit Riogby.'] An honest, willing, kind fellow, as ever servant shall come in house withal ; and, I warrant you, no tell-tale nor no breed- bate: his worst fault is, that he is given to prayer; he is something peevish that way : but nobody but has his fault ; — but let that pass. — Peter Simple you say your name is ? Sim. Ay, for fault of a better. "Quick. And Master Slender's your master ? Sim. Ay, forsooth. Quick. Does he not wear a great round beard, like a glo- ver's paring-knife ? Sim. No, forsooth : he hath but a little wee face, with a little yellow beard, — a Cain-coloUred beard. Quick. A softly-sprighted man, is he not ? Sim. Ay, forsooth : but he is as tall a man of his hands as any is between this and his head ; he hath fought with a warrener. Quick. How say you ? — 0, I should remember him : does he not hold up his head, as it were, aad strut in his gait ? Sim. Yes, indeed, does he. Quick. Well, heaven send Anne Page no worse fortune ! Tell Master Parson Evans I will. do what I can for your mas- ter : Anne is a good girl, and I wish — Re-enter Rugby. Rug. Out, alas ! here comes my master. Quick. We shall all be shent. [Exit Rugby.} — Eun in here, good young man ; go into this closet : — he will not stay long. [Shuts Simple in the closet-l — What, John Eugby! John ! what, John, I say ! Go, John, go inquire for my mas- ter ;" I doubt he be not well, that he comes not home. [Sings. And down, down, adown-a, &c. Enter Doctor Caids. Caius. Vat is you sing ? I do not like dese toys. Pray SCENE IV.] THE MERBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 357 you, go and vetch me in my closet un boitier vert,^'^^ — a box, a green-a box : do intend vat I speak ? a green-a box. Quick. Ay, forsooth; I'll fetch it jon.— [Aside] I am glad he went not in himself : if he had found the young man, he would have been horn-mad. Caius. Fe,fe,fe,fe! ma foi, il fait fort chavd. Je m'en vais a la cour, — la grande affaire. Quick. Is it this, sir ? Caius. Qui; mette le au mon pocket : depeche, quickly. — Vere is dat knave Eugby ? Quick. What, John Rugby ! John ! Re-enter Eugby. Rug. Here, sir. Caius. You are John Hugby, and you are Jack Eugby. '^^* Come, take-a your rapier, and come after my heel to de court. Rug. 'Tis ready, sir, here in the porch, Caius. By my trot, I tarry too long.— ^Od's me! Qu'ai- foublie ! dere is some simples in my closet, dat I vill not for de varld I shall leave behind. Quick. Aj me, he'll find the yoUng man there, and be mad! Caius. diahle, diable ! vat is in my closet ? Villain ! larron F'^'^ [Pulling Simple out.'] — Eugby, my rapier ! Quick. Good master, be content. Caius. Verefore shall I be content-a ? Quick. The young man is an honest man. Caius. Vat shall de honest man do in my closet ? dere is no honest man dat shall come in my closet. Quick. I beseech you, be not so phlegmatic. Hear the truth of it : he came of an errand to me from Parson Hugh. Caius. Veil. Sim. Ay, forsooth ; to desire her to — Quick. Peace, I pray you. Caius. Peace-a your tongue. — Speak-a your tale. Sim. To desire this honest gentlewoman, your maid, to speak a good word to Mistress Anne Page for my master in the way of marriage. Quick. This is all, indeed, la ; but I'll ne'er put my finger in the fire, and need not. 358 THE MEBEY WIVES OF WINDSOB. [aoi i. Cams. Sir Hugli send-a you? — Eugby, haillez me some paper. — Tarry you a little-a while. [Writes. Quick. I am glad he is so quiet : if he had been throughly moved, you should have heard him so loud and so melancholy. — But notwithstanding, man, I'U do for your'^* master what good I can : and the very yea and the no is, the French doc- tor, my master, — I may call him my master, look you, for I keep his house ; and I wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat and drink, make the beds, and do all myself, — Sim. 'Tis a great charge to come under one body's hand. Quick. Are you avised o' that ? you shall find it a great charge: and to be up early and down late; — but notwith- standing, to tell you in your ear, — I would have no words of it, — my master himself is in love with Mistress Anne Page : but notwithstanding that, I know Anne's mind, — that's nei- ther here nor there. Caius. You jack'nape, — give-a dis letter to Sir Hugh ; by gar, it is a shallenge : I vill cut his treat in de park ; and I vill teach a scurvy jack-a-nape priest to meddle or make : — you may be gone ; it is not good yoii tarry here ': — ^by gar, I vill cut all his two stones ; by gar, he shall not have a stone to trow at his dog. \_Exit Simple. Quick. Alas, he speaks but for his friend. Caius. It is no matter-a for dat: — do not you tell-a me dat I shall have Anne Page for myself?'^ — by gar, I vill kill de Jack priest ; and I have appointed mine host of de Jarteer to -measure our weapon : — by gar, I viU myself have Anne Page. Quick. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall be well. We must give folks leave to prate : what, the good-jer ! Caius. Eugby, come to de court vit me. — By gar, if I have not Anne Page, I shall turn your head out of my door. — Follow my heels, Eiigby. [_Exewnt Caius and Rughy. Quick. You shall have An fool's-head of your own. No, I know Anne's mind for that : never a woman in Windsor knows more of Anne's mind than I do ; nor can do more than I do with her, I thank heaven. Pent, [withiri] Who's within there ? ho ! Quick. Who's there, I trow? Come near the house, I pray you. SCENE I.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 359 Enter Fbnton. Pent. How now, good woman ! how dost thou ? Quick. The better that it pleases your good worship to ask. Went. What news ? how does pretty Mistress Anne ? Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and gentle ; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way ; I praise heaven for it. Fent. Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? shall I not lose my suit ? Quick. Troth, sir, all is ia his hands above : but notwith- standing. Master Fenton, I'll be sworn on a book, she loves you. — Have not your worship a wart above your eye ? Fent. Yes, marry, have I ; what of that ? Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale : — good faith, it is such another Nan; — but, I detest, an honest maid as ever broke bread : — we had an hour's talk of that wart : — I shall never laugh but in that maid's company ! — But, indeed, she is given too much to allicholy and musing : but for you — well, go to. Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there's money for thee ; let me have thy voice in my behalf : if thou see'st her before me, commend me. Quick. Will I? i' faith, that we will ; and I will tell^=' your worship more of the wart the next time we have confidence ; and of other wooers. Fent. Well, farewell ; I am in great haste now. Quick. Farewell to your worship. [JExit Fenton.'] Truly, an honest gentleman : but Anne loves him not ; for I know Anne's mind as well as another does. — Out upon't! what have I forgot ? {Exit. ACT II. Scene I. before Page's house. Enter Mistress Page, with a letter. Mrs. Page. What, have I««> scaped love-letters in the ho- liday-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject for them ? Let me see. \_Reads. 360 THE MEREY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. " Ask me no reason wliy I love you ; for though Love use Eea- son for his physician, he admits him not for his counsellor.'^''' You are not young, no more am I ; go to, then, there's sjrmpathy : you are merry, so am I ; ha, ha ! then there's more sympathy : you love sack, and so do I ; would you desire tetter sympathy ? Let it suffice thee. Mistress Page, — at the least, if the love of a soldier*^^' can suffice, — that I love thee. I mU not say, pity me, — 'tis not a soldier-like phrase ; hut I say, love me. By me, Thine own true knight, By day or night. Or any kind of light, With all his might For thee to fight, John Falstaff." What a Hetod of Jewry is this ! — wicked, wicked world ! — one that is well-nigh worn to pieces with age to show himself a young gallant ! What unweighed behaviour'*'' hath this Flemish drunkard picked — with the devil's name — out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me ? Why, he hath not been thrice in my company I^What should I say to him? — I was then frugal of my mirth : — Heaven forgive me !— Why, I'll exhibit a bill in the parliament for the put- ting-down of fat men.'^® How shall I be revenged on him ? for revenged I will be, as sure as his guts are made of pud- dings. Enter Mistress Ford. Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page ! trust me, I was going to your house. Mrs. Page. And, trust me, 1 was coming to you. You look very Ul. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I'U ne'er believe that ; I have to show to the contrary. Mrs. Page. Faith, but you do, in my mind. Mrs. Ford. Well, I do, then ; yet, I say, I could show you to the contrary. Mistress Page^ give me some counsel ! Mrs. Page. What's the matter, woman ? Mrs. Ford. woman, if it were not for one trifling re- spect, I could come to such honour ! Mrs. Page. Hang the trifle, woman ! take the honour. What is it ? — dispense with trifles ; — what is it ? SCENE I.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 361 Mrs. Ford. If I would but go to hell for an eternal mo- ment or so, I could be knighted. Mrs. Page. What ? thou liest !— Sir Alice Ford ! These knights will hack ; and so thou shouldst not alter the article of thy gentry. Mrs. Ford. We burn daylight: — here, read, read; per- ceive how I might be knighted. — I shall think the worse of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difference of men's liking : and yet he would not swear ; ptaised**'' women's mo- desty; and gave such orderly and well-behaved reproof to all uncomeliness, that I would have sworn his disposition would have gone to the truth of his words ; but they do no more adhere and keep pace together than the Hundredth Psalm to the tune of Green sleeves. ^^^^ What tempest, I trow, threw this whale, with so many tuns of oil in his belly, ashore at Windsor ? How shall I be revenged on him ? I think the best way were to entertain him with hope, till the wicked fire of lust have melted him in his own grease. — 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 mystery of ill opinions, here's the twin-brother of thy letter : but let thine inherit first ; for, I protest, mine never shaU. I war- rant he hath a thousand of these letters, writ with blank space for different names, — sure, more, — and these are of the second edition : he will print them, out of doubt ; for he cares not what he puts into the press, when he would put us two. I had rather be a giantess, and lie under Mount Pelion. Well, I will find you twenty lascivious turtles, ere one chaste man. Mrs. Ford. Why, this is the very same ; the very hand, the very words. What doth he think of us ? Mrs. Page. Nay, I know not : it makes me almost ready to wrangle with mine own honesty. I'U entertain myself like one that I am not acquainted withal; for, sure, unless he know some strain'^" in me, that I know not myself, he would never have boarded me in this fury. Mrs. Ford. Boarding, call you it ? I'll be sure to keep him above deck. Mrs. Page. So will I : if he come under my hatches, I'll never to sea again. Let's be revenged on him : let's appoint 362 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. him a meeting ; give him a show of comfort in his suit ; and lead him on with a fine-baited delay, till he hath pawned his horses to mine host of the Garter. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I will consent to act any villany against him, that may not sully the chariness of our honesty. O, that my husband saw this letter !'^ it would give eternal food to his jealousy. Mrs. Page. Why, look where he comes ; — and my good man too : he's as far from jealousy as I am from giving him cause ; and that, I hope, is an unmeasurable distance. Mrs. Ford, You are the happier woman. Mrs. Page. Let's consult together against this greasy knight. Come hither. {They retire. Enter Ford, Pistol, Page, and Ntm. Ford. Well, I hope it be not so. Pist. Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs : Sir John affects thy wife. Ford. Why, sir, my wife is not young. Pist. He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor, Both young and old, one with another. Ford ; He loves the gallimaufry : Ford, perpend. Ford. Love my wife ! Pist. With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou. Like Sir Actseon he, with Eiagwood at thy heels : — 0, odious is the name ! Ford. What name, sir ? Pist. The horn, I say. Farewell. Take heed ; have open eye ; for thieves do foot by night : Take heed, ere summer comes, or cuckoo-birds do sing. — Away, Sir Corporal Nym ! — Believe it, Page ; he speaks sense.*'^* [Exit. Ford, \_aside'] I will be patient ; I will find out this. Nym. [to Page'] And this is true ; I like not the humour of lying. He hath wronged me in some humours : I should have borne the humoured letter to her ; but I have a sword, and it shall bite upon my necessity.*^® He loves your wife ; there's the short and the long. My name is Corporal Nym ; I speak, and I avouch 'tis true : my name is Nym, and Fal- BOENE I.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 363 staff loves your wife. — Adieu. I love not the humour of bread and cheese ; and there's the humour of it. Adieu. [Exit. Page. [aside\ " The humour of it," quoth 'a !'^" here's a fellow frights humour out of his wits.'^*' Ford, [aside] I will seek out Falstaff. Page, [aside'] I never heard such a drawling, affecting rogue.'^" Ford, [aside] If I do find it : — well. Page, [aside] I will not believe such a Catalan, though the priest o' the town commended him for a true man. Ford, [aside] 'Twas a good sensible fellow : — well. [Mistress Page and Mistress Ford come forward. Page. How now, Meg ! Mrs. Page. Whither go you, George ? — Hark you. Mrs. Ford. How now, sweet Frank ! why art thou mel- ancholy ? Ford. I melancholy! I am not melancholy. — Get you home, go. Mrs. Ford. Faith, thou hast some crotchet**® in thy head now. — Will you go. Mistress Page ? Mrs. Page. Have with you. — You'll come to dinner, George ? — [Aside to Mrs. Ford] Look who comes yonder : she shall be our messenger to this paltry knight. Mrs. Ford, [aside to Mrs. Page] Trust me, I thought on her : she'll fit it. Enter Mistress Quickly. Mrs. Page. You are come to see my daughter Anne ? Quick. Ay, forsooth; and, I pray, how does good Mis- tress Anne ? Mrs. Page. Go in with us and see : we have'*" an hour's talk with you. [Exeunt Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Mistress Quickly. Page. How now. Master 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, slaves ! I do not think the knight would offer it : but these that accuse him in his intent towards our 361 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. wives are a yoke of his discarded men ; very rogues, now they be out of service. Ford. Were they his men ? Page. Marry, were they. Ford. I like it never the better for that. — Does he lie at the Garter ? Page. Ay, marry, does he. If he should intend this voy- age toward my wife, I would turn her loose to him ; and what he gets more of her than sharp words, let it lie on my head. Ford. I do not misdoubt my wife ; but I would be loth to turn them together. A man may be too confident : I would have nothing He on my head : I cannot be thus satisfied. Page. Look where my ranting host of the Garter comes : there is either liquor in his pate, or money in his purse, when he looks so merrily. Mder Host. How now, mine host ! Host. How now, bully-rook ! thou'rt a gentleman. — Cava- lero-justice, I say ! Enter Shallow. Shal. I foUow, mine host, I follow. — Good even and twenty, good Master Page ! Master Page, will you go with us ? we have sport in hand. Host. Tell him, cavalero-justice ; teU him, bully-rook. Shal. Sir, there is a fray to be fought between Sir Hugh the "Welsh priest and Gains the French doctor. Ford. Good mine host o' the Garter, a word with you. Host. What sayest thou, my buUy-rook ? [They go aside. Shal. [to Page] Will you go with us to behold it ? My merry host hath had the measuring of their weapons ; and, I think, hath appointed them contrary places ; for, believe me, I hear the parson is no jester. Hark, I will tell you what our sport shall be. [They go aside. Host. Hast thou no suit against my knight, my guest- cavalier ? Ford.^^^ None, I protest : but I'll give you a pottle of burnt sack to give me recourse to him, and tell him my name is Brook ;'*^* only for a jest. SCENE II.] THE MBERY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 365 Host. My hand, bully; thou ehalt have egress and re- gress ; — said I well ? — and thy name shall- be Brook. It is a merry knight. — Will you go, mynheers ?'**^ Shal. Have with you, mine host. Page. I have heard the Frenchman hath good skill in his rapier. Shal. Tut, sir, I could have told you more. In these times you stand on distance, your passes, stoccadoes, and I know not what : 'tis the heart, Master Page ; 'tis here, 'tis here. I have seen the time, with my long sword I would have made you four tall fellows skip like rats.'*** Host. Here, boys, here, here ! shall we wag ? Page. Have with you. — I had rather hear them scold than se§ them fight. '*^' [Exeunt Host, Shal., and Page. Fordi Though Page be a secure fool, and stands so firmly on his wife's frailty,'*'' yet I cannot put off my opinion so easily : she was in his company at Page's house ; and what they made there, I know not. Well, I will look further in- to't : and I have a disguise to sound Falstaff. If I find her honest, I lose not my labour ; if she be otherwise, 'tis labour well bestowed. \Exit. Scene II. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter Falstaff and Pistol. Fal. I will not lend thee a penny. Pist. Why, then the world's mine oyster. Which I with sword will open. Fal. Not a penny. I have been content, sir, you should lay my countenance to pawn : I have grated upon my good friends for three reprieves for you and your coach -fellow Nym ; or else you had looked through the grate, like a geminy of baboons. I am damned in hell for swearing to gentlemen my friends, you were good soldiers and tall fel- lows ; and when Mistress Bridget lost the handle of her fan, I took't upon mine honour thou hadst it not. Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence? Fal. Eeason, you rogue, reason : thinkest thou I'll en- danger my soul gratis ? At a word, hang no more about me, VOL. I. BB 366 THE MEBRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. I am no gibbet for you : — go : — a short knife and a throng ; — to your manor of Pickt-hatch, go. — You'll not bear a letter for me, you rogue ! — you stand upon your honour ! — Why, thou unconfinable baseness, it is as much as I can do to keep the terms of my honour precise : I, I, I myself'*® sometimes, leaving the fear of God on the left hand, and hiding mine honour in my necessity, am fain to shufi3e, to hedge, and to lurch ; and yet you, rogue, will ensconce your rags, your cat-a-mountain looks, your red-lattice phrases, and your bull- baiting oaths,'*'' under the shelter of your honour ! You will not do it, you ! Pist. I do relent : — what would thou more of man ? Enter Robin. Eob. Sir, here's a woman would speak with you. Fal. Let her approach. JEnter Mistress Quickly. Quick. Give your worship good morrow. Fal. Good morrow, good wife. Quick. Not so, an't please your worship. Fal. Good maid, then. Quick. I'll be sworn ; As my mother was, the fifst hour I was born.'^"' Fal. I do believe the swearer. What with me ? Quick. Shall I vouchsafe your worship a word or two ? Fal. Two thousand, fair woman : and I'll vouchsafe thee the hearing. Quick. There is one Mistress Ford, sir : — I pray, come a little nearer this ways : — I myself dwell with Master Doctor Caius, — Fal. Well, one Mistress Ford, you say, — '"' Quick. Y^our worship says very true : — I pray your wor- ship, come a little nearer this ways. Fal. I warrant thee, nobody hears ; — mine own people, mine own people. Quick. Are they so ? God bless them, and make them his servants ! Fal. Well, Mistress Ford ;— what of her ? Quick. Why, sir, she's a good creature. — Lord, Lord! SCENE II.] THE MBBRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 367 your worship's a wanton ! Well, heayen forgive you, and all of us, I pray ! — Fal. Mistress Ford ; — come. Mistress Ford, — Quick. Marry, this is the short and the long of it ; you have brought her into such a canaries as 'tis wonderful. The best courtier of them aU, when the court lay at Windsor, could never have brought her to such 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 ; smelling so sweetly — all musk — and so rush- ling, I warrant you, in silk and gold ; and in such alligant terms ; and such wine'^^' and sugar of the best and the fair- est, that would have won any woman's heart ; and, I warrant you, they could never get an eye-wink of her : — I had myself twenty angels given me this morning ;^°^' but I defy all angels — in any such sort, as they say — ^but in the way of honesty : — and, I warrant you, they could never get her so much as sip on a cup with the proudest of them all : and yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners ; but, I warrant you, all is one with her. Fal. But what says she to me ? be brief, my good she- Mercury. Quick. Marry, she hath received your letter ; for the which she thanks you a thousand times ; and she gives you to notify, that her husband will be absence from his house between ten and eleven. Fal. Ten and eleven ? Quick. Ay, forsooth ; and then you may come and see the picture, she says, that you wot of; — Master Ford, her husband, will be from home. Alas, the sweet woman leads an ill life with him ! he's a very jealousy man : she leads a very frampold life with him, good heart. Fal. Ten and eleven : — woman, commend me to her ; I will not fail her. Quick. Why, you say well. But I have another messenger to your worship. Mistress Page hath her hearty commenda- tions to you, too :— and let me tell you in your ear, she's as fartuous a civil modest wife, and one, I tell you, that will not miss you morning nor evening prayer, as any is in Windsor, whoe'er be the other :— and she bade me tell your worship 368 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act ii. that her husband is seldom from home ; but, she hopes, there will come a time. I never knew a wotnan so dote upon a man : surely, I think you have charms, la ; yes, in truth. Fal. Not I, I assure thee : setting the attraction of my good parts aside, I have no other charms. Quick. Blessing on your heart for't ! Fal. But, I pray thee, tell me this, — has Ford's wife and Page's wife acquainted each other how they love me ? Quick. That were a jest indeed ! — they have not so little grace, I hope: — that were a trick indeed! — But Mistress Page would desire you to send her your little page, of aU loves : her husband has a marvellous infection to the little page; and, truly. Master Page is an honest man. Never a wife in Windsor leads a better life than she does : do what t she will, say what she will, take all, pay all, go to bed when she list, rise when she list, all is as she will : and, truly, she deserves it ; for if there be a kind woman in Windsor, she is one. Tou must send her your page ; no remedy. Fal. Why, I will. Quick. Nay, but do so, then : and, look you, he may come and go between you both ; and, in any case, have a nay-word, that you may know one another's mind, and the boy never need to understand any thing ; for 'tis not good that children should know any wickedness : old folks, you know, have dis- cretion, as they say, and know the world. Fal. Fare thee well : commend me to them both : there's my purse ; I am yet thy debtor. — Boy, go along with this woman. [Exeunt Mistress Quickly and Robin.'\ — This news distracts me ! Pist. This punk*^' is one of Cupid's carriers : — Clap on more sails ; pursue ; up with your fights ; Give fire ; she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all ! [Exit. Fal. Sayest thou so, old Jack ? go thy ways ; I'll make more of thy old body than I have done. WiU they yet look after thee ? Wilt thou, after the expense of so much money, be now a gainer ? Good body, I thank thee. Let them say 'tis grossly done ; so it be fairly done, no matter. Enter Bardolph, with a cup nf sack. Bard. Sir John, there's one Master Brook below would SCENE II.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 369 fain speak with you, and be acquainted with you ; and hath sent your worship a morning's draught of sack. Fal. Brook is his name ? Bard. Ay, sir. Fal. Call him in. [Exit Bardolph.] Such Brooks are wel- come to me, that o'erflow such liquor. — Ah, ha! Mistress Ford and Mistress Page, have I encompassed you ? go to ; via ! Re-enter Baedolph, with Ford disguised. Ford. Bless you, sir ! Fal. And you, sir ! Would you speak with me ? Ford. I make bold to press with so little preparation upon you. Fal. You're welcome. What's your will ?^ — Give us leave, drawer. [Exit Bardolph., Ford. Sir, I am a gentleman that hath spent much ; my name is Brook. Fal. Good Master Brook, I desire more acquaintance of you. Ford. Good Sir John, I sue for yours : not to charge you ; for I must let you understand I think myself in better plight for a lender than you are : the which hath something embold- ened me to this unseasoned intrusion ; for they say, if money go before, all ways do lie open. Fal. Money is a good soldier, sir, and will on. Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of money here troubles me : if you will help to bear it. Sir John, take all, or half,*^' for easing me of the carriage. Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to be your porter. Ford. I will tell you, sir, if you will give me the hearing. Fal. Speak, good Master Brook : I shall be glad to be your servant. Ford. Sir, I hear you are a scholar, — I will be brief with you ; — and you have been a man long known to me, though I had never so good means, as desire, to make myself ac- quainted with you. I shall discover a thing to you, wherein I must very much lay open mine own imperfection : but, good Sir John, as you have one eye upon my follies, as you hear them unfolded, turn another into the register of your own ; that I may pass with a reproof the easier, sith you yourself know how easy it is to be such an offender. 370 THE MEBRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. Fal. Very well, sir ; proceed. Ford. There is a gentlewoman in this town, her husband's name is Ford. Fal. Well, sir. Ford. I have long loved her, and, I protest to you, be- stowed much on her ; following her with a doting observance ; engrossed opportunities to meet her ; fee'd every slight occa- sion that could but niggardly give me sight of her ; not only bought many presents to give her, but have given largely to many to know what she would have given ; briefly, I have pursued her as love hath pursued me ; which hath been on the wing of all occasions. But whatsoever I have merited, either in my mind or in my means, meed, I am sure, I have received none ; unless experience be a jewel : that I have .purchased at an infinite rate ; and that hath taught me to say this ; Love like a shadow* flies when substance love pursues ; Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues. Fal. Have you received no promise of satisfaction at her hands ? Ford. Never. Fal. Have you importuned her to such a purpose ? Ford. Never. Fal. Of what quality was your love, then ? Ford. Like a fair house built on another man's ground ; so that I have lost my edifice by mistaking the place where I erected it. Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this to me ? Ford. When I have told you that, I have told you all. Some say, that though she appear honest to me, yet in other places she enlargeth her mirth so far that there is shrewd construction made of her. Now, Sir John, here is the heart of my purpose : you are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admittance, authentic in your place and person, generally allowed for your many war-Uke, court-like, and learned preparations, — Fal. 0, sir ! Ford. Believe it, for you know it. — There is money; * Love like a shadow, &o.] A quotation probably. SCENE II.] THE MEERY WIVES OP WINDSOE. 371 spend it, spend it ; spend more ; spend all I have ; only give me so much of your time in exchange of it, as to lay an amiable siege to the honesty of this Ford's wife : use your art of wooing ; win her to consent to you : if any man may, you may as soon as any. Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your affec- tion, that I should win what you would enjoy? Methinks you prescribe to yourself very preposterously. Ford. 0, understand my drift. She dwells so securely on the excellency of her honour, that the folly of my souP^' dares not present itself : she is too bright to be looked against. Now, could I come to her with any detection in my hand, my desires had instance and argument to commend themselves : I could drive her then from the ward of her purity, her repu- tation, her marriage-vow, and a thousand other her defences, which now are too-too strongly embattled against me. What say you to't. Sir John ? Fal. Master Brook, I will first make bold with your money ; next, give me your band ; and last, as I am a gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Ford's wife. Ford. good sir ! Fal. I say you shall. Ford. Want no money. Sir John ; you shall want none. Fal. Want no Mistress Ford, Master Brook ; you shall want none. I shall be with her — I may tell you — by her own appointment ; even as you came in to me, her assistant, or go-between, parted from me : I say I shall be with her between ten and eleven ; for at that time the jealous rascally knave her husband will be forth. Come you to me at night ; you shall know how I speed. Ford. I am blest in your acquaintance. Do you know Ford, sir? Fal. Hang him, poor cuckoldly knave ! I know him not : — ^yet I wrong him to call him poor ; they say the jealous wittoUy knave hath masses of money ; for the which his wife seems to me well-favoured. I will use her as the key of the cuckoldly rogue's coffer ; and there's my harvest-home. Ford. I would you knew Ford, sir, that you might avoid him, if you saw him. Fal. Hang him, mechanical salt -butter rogue ! I will 372 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act ii. stare him out of his wits ; I will awe him with my cudgel, — it shall hang like a meteor o'er the cuckold's horns. Master Brook, thou shalt know I will predominate over the peasant, and thou shalt lie with his wife. — Come to me soon at night : — Ford's a knave, and I will aggravate his style ; thou, Master Brook, shalt know him for knave and cuckold : — come to me soon at night. [Exit. Ford. What a damned Epicurean rascal is this ! — My heart is ready to crack with impatience. — Who says this is improvident jealousy ? my wife hath sent to him, the hour is fixed, the match is made. Would any man have thought this? — See the hell of having a false woman ! My bed shall be abused, my coffers ransacked, my reputation gnawn at ; and I shall not only receive this villanous wrong, but stand under the adoption of abominable terms, and by him who does me this wrong. Terms ! names ! — Amaimon sounds well; Luci- fer, well ; Barbason, well ; yet they are devils' additions, the names of fiends : but cuckold ! wittol - cuckold !**" the devU himself hath not such a name. Page is an ass, a secure ass : he will trust his wife ; he will not be jealous. I will rather trust a Fleming with my butter, Parson Hugh the Welshman with my cheese, an Irishman with my aqua-vits bottle, or a thief to walk my ambling gelding, than my wife with herself : then she plots, then she ruminates, then she devises ; and what they think in their hearts they may effect, they will break their hearts but they will efiect. Heaven be praised for my jealousy ! ■ — Eleven o'clock the hour : — I will prevent this, detect my wife, be revenged on Falstaff, and laugh at Page. I will about it ; better three hours too soon than a minute too late. Fie, fie, fie ! cuckold ! cuckold ! cuckold ! [Exit. Scene III. Afield near Windsor. Enter Caius and Eugby. Caius. Jack Rugby, — Rug. Sir? Caius. Vat is de clock, Jack ? Rug. 'Tis past the hour, sir, that Sir Hugh promised to meet. SCENE m.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 373 Caius. By gar, he has save his soul, dat he is no come ; he has pray his Pible veil, dat he is no come : by gar, Jack Kugby, he is dead already, if he be come. Bug. He is wise, sir ; he knew your worship would kill him, if he came. Caius. By gar, de herring is no dead so as I vill kill him. Take your rapier, Jack; I vill tell you how I vill kill him. Rug. Alas, sir, I cannot fence. Caius. Villain,*^*' take your rapier. Rug. Forbear ; here's company. Enter Host, Shallow, Slender, UTid Page. Host. Bless thee, bully doctor ! Shal. Save you. Master Doctor Caius ! Page. Now, good master doctor ! Slen. Give you good morrow, sir. Caius. Vat be all you, one, two, tree, four, come for ? Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee tra- verse ; to see thee here, to see thee there ; to see thee pass thy punto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant. Is. he dead, my Ethiopian ? is he dead, my Francisco ? ha, bully ! What says my ^sculapius ? my Galen ? my heart of elder ? ha ! is he dead, bully Stale ? is he dead ? Caius. By gar, he is de coward Jack priest of de varld;*''* he is not show his face. Host. Thou art a Castilian, King Urinal ! Hector of Greece, my boy ! Caius. I pray you, bear vitness that me have stay six or seven, two, tree hours for him, and he is no come. Shal. He is the wiser man, master doctor :'*® he is a curer of souls, and you a curer of bodies ; if you should fight, you go against the hair of your professions. — Is it not true, Master Page ? Page. Master Shallow, you have yourself been a great fighter, though now a man of peace. Shal. Bodikins, Master Page, though I now be old, and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one. Though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us ; we are the sons of women. Master Page. 874 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act ii. Page. 'Tis true, Master Shallow. Shal. It will be found so, Master Page. — Master Doctor Caius, I am come to fetch you home. I am sworn of the peace : you have showed yourself a wise physician, and Sir Hugh hath shown himself a wise and patient churchman. You must go with me,- master doctor. Host. Pardon, guest -justice. — A word. Monsieur Mock- water.**" Caius. Mock-vater ! vat is dat ? Host. Mock -water, in our English tongue, is valour, bully. Caius. By gar, den, I have as mush mock-vater as de Englishman. — Scurvy jack-dog priest! by gar, me vill cut his ears. Host. He will clapper-claw thee tightly, bully. Caius, Clapper-de-claw ! vat is dat ? Host. That is, he will make thee amends. Caius. By gar, me do look he shall clapper-de-claw me ; for, by gar, me vill have it. Host. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag. Caius. Me dank you for dat.'*^' Host. And, moreover, bully, — But first, master guest, and Master Page, and eke Cavalero Slender, go you through the town to Frogmore. \_Aside to them. Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he ? Host. He is there: see what humour he is in; and I will bring the doctor about by the fields. Will it do well ? Shal. We will do it. Page, Shal., and Slen. Adieu, good master doctor. [Exeunt Page, Shal., and Slen. Caius. By gar, me vill kill de priest ; for he speak for a jack-an-ape to Anne Page. Host. Let him die : sheathe thy impatience, throw cold water on thy eholer : go about the fields with me through Frogmore : I will bring thee where Mistress Anne Page is, at a farm-house a-feasting ; and thou shalt woo her. Cried Iaim?«® said I well? Caius. By gar, me dank you for dat : by gar, I love you ; and I shall procure-a you de good guest, de earl, de knight, de lords, de gentlemen, my patients. SCENE I.] THE MEERY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 375 Host. For the which I will he thy adversary toward Anne Page. Said I well? Caius. By gar, 'tis good; veil said. Host. Let us wag, then. Caius. Come at my heels. Jack Rugby. [Exeunt. ACT III. Scene I. A field near Frogmore. Enter Sir Hugh Evans and Simple. Evans. I pray you now, good Master Slender's serving- man, and friend Simple by your name, which way have you looked for Master Caius, that caUs himself doctor of physic? Sim. Marry, sir, the Pitty-ward,'^*' the Park-ward, every way; old Windsor way, and every way but the town way. Evans. I most fehemently desire you you will also look that way. Sim. I will, sir. [Retires. Evans. Pless my soul, how full of cholers I am, and trempling of mind ! — I shall be glad if he have deceived me : —how melancholies I am ! — I will knog his urinals about his knave's costard when I have goot opportunities for the ork: — Pless my soul ! — [Sings. To shallow rivers,* to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals ; There will we make our pads of roses. And a thousand fragrant posies. To shallow — * To shallow rivers, &o.] Fi-om the song ty Ckristopher Marlowe, en- titled The Passionate Shepherd to his Love : Bee Marlowe's Works, p. 381, ed. Dyoe, 1858. Sir Hugh miBquotes the lines, and mixes up with them a line from the old Tereion of the 137th Psalm, " Whenas wee sate in Babylon, The rivers round about," &c. p. 93, ed. 1638. 376 THE MERRY WIYES OP WINDSOR. [act hi. Mercy on me! I have a great dispositions to cry. — \_Sings. Melodious birds sing madrigals ; — Whenas I sat in Pabylon, — And a thousand vagram'^^' posies. To shallow, &c. Sivi. [coming forivard^ Yonder he is, coming this way, Sir Hugh. Evans. He's welcome. — \_Sings. To shallow riveiF, to whose falls — Heaven prosper the right! — What weapons is he? Si7n. No weapons, sir. There comes my master, Master Shallow, and another gentleman, from Frogmore, over the stile, this way. Evans. Pray you, give me my gown; or else keep it in your arms. [Reads in a book. Enter Page, Shallow, and Slesstder. Shal. How now, master parson ! Good morrow, good Sir Hugh. Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good student from his book, and it is wonderful. Slen. [aside] Ah, sweet Anne Page ! Page. Save you, good Sir Hugh ! Evans. Pless you from his mercy sake, all of you ! Shal. What, the sword and the word ! do you study them both, master parson ? Page. And youthful still, in your doublet and hose this raw rheumatic day? Evans. There is reasons and causes for it. Page. We are come to you to do a good office, master parson. Evans. Ferywell: what is it? Page. Yonder is a most reverend gentleman, who, belike having received wrong by some person, is at most odds with his own gravity and patience that ever you saw. Shal. I have lived fourscore years and upward ; I never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so wide of his owe respect. Evans. What is he ? SCENE I.] THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOB. 377 Page. I think you know him; Master Doctor Caius, the renowned French physician. Evans. Got's wiU, and his passion of my heart! I had as lief you would tell me of a mess of porridge. Page. Why? Evans. He has no more knowledge in Hibbocrates and Galen, — and he is a knave besides ; a cowardly knave as you would desires to be acquainted withal. Page. I warrant you, he's the man should fight with him. Slen. [a.side'] sweet Anne Page ! Shal. It appears so, by his weapons. — Keep them asunder : — here comes Doctor Caius. Enter Host, Caius, and Eugbt. Page. Nay, good master parson, keep in your weapon. Shal. So do you, good master doctor. Host. Disarm them, and let them question : let them keep their limbs whole, and hack our English. Caius. I pray you, let-a me speak a word vit your ear. Verefore vill you not meet-a me ? Evans, [aside to Caius] Pray you, use your patience: in goot time. Caius. By gar, you are de coward, de Jack dog, John ape. Evans, [aside to Caius] Pray you, let us not be laughing- stogs to other men's humours; I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends. — [Aloud] I will knog your urinals about your knave's cogscomb for missing your meetings and appointments. Caius. Diablef — Jack Eugby, — mine host de Jarteer, — have I not stay for him to kill him? have I not, at de place I did appoint ? Evans. As I am a Christians soul, now, look you, this is the place appointed : I'll be judgment by mine host of the Garter. Host. Peace, I say, Gallia and Guallia,*^^' French and Welsh, soul-curer and body-curer ! Caius. Ay, dat is very good ; excellent. Host. Peace, I say ! hear mine host of the Garter. Am I politic ? am I subtle ? am I a Machiavel ? Shall I lose my doctor? no ; he gives me the potions and the motions. Shall 378 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act hi. I lose my parson, my priest, my Sir Hugh ? no j he gives me the proverbs and the no-verbs. — Give me thy hand, terres- trial; so. — Give me thy hand, celestial; so.'"^ — Boys of art, I have deceived you both; I have directed you to wrong places: your hearts are mighty, your skins are whole, and let burnt sack be the issue. — Come, lay their swords to pawn. — Follow me, lads'^® of peace; follow, foUow, follow. Shal. Trust me, a mad host. — Follow, gentlemen, follow. Slen. [aside] sweet Anne Page ! [Exeunt Shal., Slen., Page, and Host. Gaius. Ha, do I perceive dat? have you make-a de sot of us, ha, ha? Evans. This is well ; he has made us his vlouting-stog. — I desire you that we may be friends; and let us knog our prains together to be revenge on this same scall, scurvy, cog- ging companion, the host of the Garter. Caius. By gar, vit all my heart. He promise to bring me vere is Anne Page ; by gar, he deceive me too. Evans. Well, I will smite his noddles. Pray you, follow. [Exeunt. Scene II. The street, in Windsor. Enter Mistress Page and Egbin. Mrs. Page. Nay, keep your way, little gallant ; you were wont to be a follower, but now you are a leader. Whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your master's heels ? Roh. I had rather, forsooth, go before you like a man than follow him like a dwarf. Mrs. Page. 0, you are a flattering boy: now I see you'U be a courtier. Enter Ford. Ford. WeU met. Mistress Page. Whither go you ? Mrs. Page. Truly, sir, to see your wife. Is she at home? Ford. Ay, and as idle as she may hang together, for want of company.'** I think, if your husbands were dead, you two would marry. Mrs. Page. Be sure of that, — two other husbands. Ford. Where had you this pretty weathercock ? SCENE II.] THE MERRY ■WIVES OP WINDSOR. 379 Mrs. Page. I cannot tell what the dickens his name is my husband had him of. — "What do you call your knight's name, sirrah ? Bob. Sir John Falstaff. Ford. Sir John Falstaff! Mrs. Page. He, he ; I can never hit on's name.— There is such a league between my good man and he ! — Is your wife at home indeed ? Ford. Indeed she is. Mrs. Page. By your leave, sir : I am sick till I see her. [Exetmt Mrs. Page a/nd Robin. Ford. Has Page any brains ? hath he any eyes ? hath he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them. Why, this boy will carry a letter twenty mile, as easy as a cannon wiU shoot point-blank twelve score. He pieces out his wife's inclination ; he gives her folly motion and advan- tage : and now she's going to my wife, and Falstaff's boy with her : — a man may hear this shower sing in the wind :— and Falstaff's boy with her ! — Good plots !— they are laid ; and our revolted wives share damnation together. Well ; I will take him, then torture my wife, pluck the borrowed veil of modesty from the so seeming Mistress Page, divulge Page himself for a secure and wilful Actseon ; and to these violent proceedings all my neighbours shall cry aim. [Clock strikes.] The clock gives me my cue, and my assurance bids me search where''"' I shall find Falstaff: I shall be rather praised for this than mocked; for it is as positive as the earth is firm that Falstaff is there : I will go. Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sib Hugh Evans, Caius, and Eugby. ShaL, Page, dc. Well met, Master Ford. Ford. Trust me, a good knot : I have good cheer at home ; and I pray you all, go with me. Shal. I must excuse myself, Master Ford. Slen. And so must I, sir : we have appointed to dine with Mistress Anne, and I would not break with her for more money than I'll speak of. ShaL We have lingered about a match between Anne 380 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act iu. Page and my cousin Slender, and this day we shall have our answer. Slen. I hope I have your good will, father Page. Page. You have, Master Slender; I stand wholly for you: — but my wife, master doctor, is for you altogether. Caius. Ay, by gar; and de maid is love-a me ; my nursh-a Quickly tell me so mush. Host. What say you to young Master Fenton ? he capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May: he will carry't, he will carry't ; 'tis in his buttons ; he will carry't. Page. Not by my consent, I promise you. The gentle- man is of no having : he kept company with the wild prince and Pointz ; he is of too high a region ; he knows too much. No, he shall not knit a knot in his fortunes with the finger of my substance : if he take her, let him take her simply ; the wealth I have waits on my consent, and my consent goes not that way. Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you go home with me to dinner: besides your cheer, you shall have sport; I will show you a monster.^Master doctor, you shall go ; — so shall you. Master Page ; — and you. Sir Hugh. Shal. Well, fare you well : — we shall have the freer woo- ing at Master Page's. [^Exeunt Shal. and Slen. Cains. Go home, John Rugby ; I come anon. {Exit Rugby. Host. Farewell, my hearts : I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink canary with him. \_Exit. Ford, [asidel I think I shall drink in pipe-wine first with him ; I'll make him dance. — Will you go, gentles ? All. Have with you to see this monster. [Exeunt. Scene IH. A room in Ford's house. Ent&r MiSTEESS Ford and Mistress Page. Mrs. Ford. What, John ! What, Robert ! Mrs. Page. Quickly, quickly : — is the buck-basket — Mrs. Ford. I warrant. — What, Robin, I say ! SCENE III.] THE MEBRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 381 Enter Servants with a basket. Mrs. Page. Come, come, come. Mrs. Ford. Here, set it down. Mrs. Page. Give your men the charge ; we must be brief. Mrs. Ford. Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house ; and when I sud- denly call you, come forth, and, without any pause or stag- gering, take this basket on your shoulders : that done, trudge with it in all haste, and carry it among the whitsters in Datchet-mead, and there empty it in the muddy ditch close by the Thames side. Mrs. Page. You will do it ? Mrs. Ford. I ha' told them over and over ; they lack no direction. — Be gone, and come when you are called. [Exeunt Servants. Mrs. Page. Here comes little Eobin. Ihiter KoBisr. Mrs. Ford. How now, my eyas-musket ! what news with you? ' Roh. My master. Sir John, is come in at your back-door. Mistress Ford, and requests your company. Mrs. Page. You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us? Roh. Ay, I'll be sworn. My master knows not of your being here, and hath threatened to put me into everlasting liberty, if I tell you of it ; for he swears he'll turn me away. Mrs. Page. Thou'rt a good boy : this secrecy of thine shall be a tailor to thee, and shall make thee a new doublet and hose. — I'll go hide me. Mrs. Ford. Do so. — Go tell thy master I am alone. — Mistress Page, remember you your cue. \_Exit Robin. Mrs. Page. 1 warrant thee; if I do not act it, hiss me. [Exit. Mrs. B^ord. Go to, then : we'll use this unwholesome hu- midity, this gross watery pumpion ; we'll teach him to know turtles from jays. Enter Falsi a ff. Fal. " Have I caught my heavenly jewel ?"'"' Why, now VOL. I. CO 382 THE MEBRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act ui. let me die, for I have lived long enougli ; this is the period of my ambition : this blessed hour ! Mrs. Ford. sweet Sir John ! Fal. Mistress Ford, I cannot cog, I cannot prate, Mistress Ford. Now shall I sin in my wish, — I would thy husband were dead : I'll speak it before the best lord, — I would make thee my lady. Mrs. Ford. I your lady, Sir John ! alas, I should be a pitiful lady ! Fal. Let the court of France show me such another. I see how thine eye would emulate the diamond : thou hast the right arched beauty of the brow that becomes the ship-tire, the tire-valiant, or any tire of Venetian admittance. Mrs. Ford. A plain kerchief, Sir John : my brows become nothing else ; nor that well neither. Fal. By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so :'^^' thou wouldst make an absolute courtier; and the firm fixture of thy foot would give an excellent motion to thy gait in a semi- circled farthingale. I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not, Nature thy friend. '^^' Come, thou canst not hide it. Mrs. Ford. Believe me, there's no such thing in me. Fal. What made me love thee? let that persuade thee there's something extraordinary in thee. Come, I cannot cog, and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisp- ing hawthorn-buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like Bucklersbury in simple-time ; I cannot : but I love thee ; none but thee ; and thou deservest it. Mrs. Ford. Do not betray me, sir. I fear you love Mis- tress Page. Fal. Thou mightst as well say I love to walk by the Counter-gate, which is as hateful to me as the reek of a lime- kUn. Mrs. Ford. Well, heaven knows how I love you ; and you shall one day find it. Fal. Keep in that mind ; I'll deserve it. Mrs. Ford. Nay, I must tell you, so you do ; or else I could not be in that mind. Roh. [withiri] Mistress Ford, Mistress Ford ! here's Mis- tress Page at the door, sweating, and blowing, and looking wildly, and would needs speak with you presently. CENE III.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 383 Fal. She shall not see me : I will ensconce me behind the arras. Mrs. Ford. Pray you, do so : she's a very tattling woman. [Falstaff hides himself behind the arras. Re-enter Mistkess Page and Eobin. What's the matter ? how now ! Mrs. Page. Mistress Ford, what have you done ? You're shamed, you're overthrown, you're undone for ever ! Mrs. Ford. What's the matter, good Mistress Page ? Mrs. Page. well-a-day. Mistress Ford ! having an honest man to your husband, to give him such cause of suspicion ! Mrs. Ford. What cause of suspicion ? Mrs. Page. What cause of suspicion ! Out upon you ! how am I mistook in you ! Mrs. Ford. Why, alas, what's the matter ? Mrs. Page. Your husband's coming hither, woman, with all the officers in Windsor, to search for a gentleman that he says is here now in the house, by your consent, to take an ill advantage of his absence : you are undone. Mrs. Ford. 'Tis not so, I hope. Mrs. Page. Pray heaven it be not so, that you have such a man here ! but 'tis most certain your husband's coming, with half Windsor at his heels, to search for such a one. I come before to tell you. If you know yourself clear, why, I am glad of it ; but if you have a friend here, convey, convey him out. Be not amazed ; call all your senses to you ; defend your reputation, or bid farewell to your good life fot ever. Mrs. Ford. What shall I do ? — There is a gentleman my dear friend ; and I fear not mine own shame so much as his peril : I had rather than a thousand pound he were out of the house. Mrs. Page. For shame ! never stand " you had rather" and " you had rather :" your husband's here at hand ; bethink you of some conveyance : in the house you cannot hide him. — 0, how have you deceived me ! — Look, here is a basket : if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creep in here ; and throw foul linen upon him, as if it were going to bucking : or, — it is whiting-time, — send him by your two men to Datchet-mead. Mrs. Ford. He's too big to go in there. What shall I do ? 384 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act hi. Re-enter Falstaff. Fal. Let me see't, let me see't, 0, let me see't ! — I'll in, I'll in : — follow your friend's counsel : — I'll in. Mrs. Page. What, Sir John Falstaff! Are these your let- ters, knight? Fal. I love thee, and none but thee f^ help me away : lei me creep in here. I'll never — [Ooes into the basket; they cover him with foul linen. Mrs. Page. Help to coyer your master, boy. — Call your men. Mistress Ford. — You dissembling knight ! [Exit Robin. Mrs. Ford. What, John ! Kobert ! John ! Re-enter Servants. Go take up these clothes here quickly : — where's the cowl- staff? look, how you drumble ! — carry them to the laundress in Datchet-mead ; quickly, come. Unter Foed, Page, Caihs, and Sir Hugh Evans. Ford. Pray you, come near : if I suspect without cause, why then make sport at me ; then let me be your jest ; I de- serve it.-^How now ! whither bear you this ? Serv. To the laundress, forsooth. Mrs. Ford. Why, what have you to do whither they bear it ? You were best meddle with buck-washing. Ford. Buck ! — I would I could wash myself of the buck ! —Buck, buck, buck ! Ay, buck ; I warrant you, buck ; and of the seasoil too, it shall appear. [Exeunt Servants with the basket.'] — Gentlemen, I have dreamed to-night ; I'll teU you my dream. Here, here, here be my keys : ascend my cham- bers ; search, seek, find out : I'll warrant wp'U unkennel the fox. — Let me stop this way first [Locks the door]. — So, now uncape.'^^' Page. Good Master Ford, be contented : you wrong your- self too much. Ford. True, Master Page. — Up, gentlemen ; you shall see sport anon : follow me, gentlemen. [Exit. Evans. This is fery fantastical humours and jealousies. Caius. By gar, 'tis no de fashion of France; it is not jeal- ous in France. SCENE III.] THE MEREY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 385 Page. Nay, follow him, gentlemen; see the issue of his search. [Exeimt Page, Caius, and Evans. Mrs. Page. Is there not a double excellency in this ? Mrs. Ford. I know not which pleases me better, that my husband is deceived, or Sir John. Mrs. Page. What a taking was he in when your husband asked what was in the basket !''"' Mrs. Ford. I am half afraid he will have need of washing ; so throwing him into the water will do him a benefit. Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest rascal ! I would all of the same strain were in the same distress. Mrs. Ford. I think my husband hath some special suspi- cion of Falstaff's being here ; for I never saw him so gross in his jealousy till now. Mrs. Page. I will lay a plot to try that ; and we will yet have more tricks with Falstafi' : his dissolute disease will scarce obey this medicine. Mrs. Ford. Shall we send that foolish carrion^^'' Mistress Quickly to him, and excuse his throwing into the water ; and give him another hope, to betray him to another punish- ment? Mrs. Page. We will do it : let him be sent for to-morrow eight o'clock, to have amends. He-enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans. Ford. I cannot find him : may be the knave bragged of that he could not compass. Mrs. Page, [aside to Mrs. Ford] Heard you that ? Mrs. Ford, [aside to Mrs. Page] Ay, ay, peace. — You use me well. Master Ford, do you ? Ford. Ay, I do so. Mrs. Ford. Heaven make you better than your thoughts ! Ford. Amen ! Mrs. Page. You do yourself mighty wrong, Master Ford. Ford. Ay, ay ; I must bear it. Evans. If there be any pody in the house,, and in the chambers, and in the coffers, and in the presses, heaven for- give my sins at the day of judgment ! Caius. By gar, nor I too : dere is no bodies. Page. Fie, fie. Master Ford ! are you not ashamed ? What 386 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act hi. spirit, what deyil suggests this imagination? I would not ha' your distemper in this kind for the wealth of Windsor Castle. Ford. 'Tis my fault, Master Page : I suffer for it. Evans. You suffer for a pad conscience : your wife is as honest a omans as I wiU desires among five thousand, and five hundred too. Caius. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman. Ford. "Well ; — I promised you a dinner : — come, come, walk in the Park : I pray you, pardon me ; I will hereafter make known to you why I have done this.- — Come, wife ; — come, Mistress Page. — I pray you, pardon me ; pray heartily, pardon me. Page. Let's go in, gentlemen ; hut, trust me, we'll mock him. I do invite you to-morrow morning to my house to breakfast : after, we'll a-hirding together ; I have a fine hawk for the bush. Shall it be so ? Ford. Any thing. Evans. If there is one, I shall make two in the company. Caius. If dere be one or two, I shall make-a de turd. Ford. Pray you, go. Master Page. Evans. I pray you now, remembrance to-morrow on the lousy knave, mine host. Caius. Dat is good ; by gar, vit all my heart. Evans. A lousy knave, to have his gibes and his mocke- ries ! [Exeunt. Scene IV. A room in Page's house. Enter Penton and Anne Page. Fent. I see I cannot get thy father's love ; Therefore no more turn me to him, sweet Nan. Anne. Alas, how then ? Fent. Why, thou must be thyself. He doth object I am too great of birth ; And that, my state being gall'd with my expense, I seek to heal it only by his wealth : Besides, these other bars he lays before me, — My riots past, my wild societies ;''*' SCENE IV.] THE MERRY WITE8 OF WINDSOR. 387 And tells me 'tis a thing impossible I should love thee but as a property. Anne. May be he tells you true. Fent. No, heaven so speed me in my time to come ! Albeit I will confess thy father's wealth Was the first motive that I woo'd thee, Anne : Yet, wooing thee, I found thee of more value Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags ; And 'tis the very riches of thyself That now I aim at. Anne. Gentle Master Fenton, Yet seek my father's love; still seek it, sir : If opportunity and humblest suit Cannot attain it, why, then — Hark you hither. [They converse apart. Enter Shallow, Slender, and Misteess Quickly. Shal. Break their talk. Mistress Quickly : my kinsman shall speak for himself. Slen. I'll make a shaft or a bolt on't : slid, 'tis but ven- turing. Shal. Be not dismayed. Slen. No, she shall not dismay me : I care not for that, — but that I am afeard. Quick. Hark ye ; Master Slender would speak a word with you. Anne. I come to him. — [Aside'] This is my father's choice. 0, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a-year ! Quick. And how does good Master Fenton ? Pray you, a word with you. Shal. She's coming; to her, coz. boy, thou hadst a father ! Slen. I had a father. Mistress Anne ; — my uncle can tell you good jests of him. — Pray you, uncle, tell Mistress Anne the jest, how my father stole two geese out of a pen, good uncle. Shal. Mistress Anne, my cousin loves you. Slen. Ay, that I do ; as well as I love any woman in Glos- ter shire. 388 THE MEEEY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act hi. Shal. He will maintain you like a gentlewoman. Slen. Ay, that I will, come cut and long-tail, under the degree of a squire. Shal. He will' make you a hundred and fifty pounds jointure. Anne. Good Master Shallow, let him woo for himself. Shal. Marry, I thank you for it ; I thank you for that good comfort. — She calls you, coz : I'll leave you. Anne. Now, Master Slender, — Slen. Now, good Mistress Anne, — Anne. What is your will ? Slen. My will ! od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest indeed ! I ne'er made my wUl yet, I thank heaven ; I am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. Anne. I mean, Master Slender, what would you with me? Slen. Truly, for mine own part, I would Kttle or nothing with you. Your father and my uncle have made motions : if it be my luck, so ; if not, happy man be his dole ! They can tell you how things go better than I can : you may ask your father ; here he comes. Enter Page and -Mistkbss Page. Page. Now, Master Slender : — love him, daughter Anne. — Why, how now ! what does Master Fenton here ? You wrong me, sir, thus still to haunt my house : I told you, sir, my daughter is dispos'd of. Fent. Nay, Master Page, be not impatient. Mrs. Page. Good Master Fenton, come not to my child. Page. She is no match for you. Fent. Sir, will you hear me ? Page. No, good Master Fenton. — Come, Master Shallow; come, son Slender; in. — Knowing my mind, you wrong me. Master Fenton. \_E:xcunt Page, Shal., and Slen. Quick. Speak to Mistress Page. Fent. Good Mistress Page, for that I love your daughter In such a righteous fashion as I do. Perforce, against all checks, rebukes, and manners, I must advance the colours of my love. And not retire : let me have your good will. SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 389 Anne. Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool. Mrs. Page. I mean it not ; I seek you a better husband. Quick. That's my master, master doctor. Anne. Alas, I had rather be set quick i' th' earth, And bowl'd to death with turnips ! Mrs. Page. Come, trouble not yourself. — Good Master Fenton, I will not be your friend nor enemy: My daughter will I question how she loves you, And as I find her, so am I affected. Till then farewell, sir : she must needs go in ; Her father will be angry. Fent. Farewell, gentle mistress. — Farewell, Nan. [^Exeunt Mrs. Page and Anne. Quick. This is my doing now: — "Nay," said I, "will you cast away your child on a fool and a physician ?'-™ Look on Master Fenton :" — this is my doing. Fent. I thank thee ; and I pray thee, once to-night Give my sweet Nan this ring : there's for thy pains. Quick. Now heaven send thee good fortune ! \_Exit Fen- ton.] A kind heart he hath : a woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart. But yet I would my master had Mistress Anne ; or I would Master Slender had her ; ,or, in sooth, I would Master Fenton had her: I will do what I can for them all three ; for so I have promised, and I'll be as good as my word ; but speciously for Master Fenton. Well, I must of another errand to Sir John Falstaff from my two mistresses : what a beast am I to slack it ! \_Exit. Scene V. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter Falstaff and Bardolph. Fal. Bardolph, I say, — Bard. Here, sir. Fal. Go fetch me a quart of sack ; put a toast in't. [Exit Bard.] Have I lived to be carried in a basket, like a barrow cf butcher's offal, and to be thrown in the Thames ? Well, if I be served such another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en 390 THE MERKY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act hi. out, and buttered, and give them to a dog for a new-year's gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with as little re- morse as they would have drowned a bitch's blind puppies,**"' fifteen i' the litter : and you may know by my size that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking ; if the bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and shallow, — a death that I abhor ; for the water swells a man ; and what a thing should I have been when I had been swelled ! I should have been a mountain of mummy. Re-enter Bardolph with, sack. Bard. Here's Mistress Quickly, sir, to speak with you. Fal. Come, let me pour in some sack to the Thames water ; for my belly's as cold as if I had swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the reins. Call her in. Bard. Come in, woman ! Enter Mtstbbss Quickly. Quick. By your leave ; I cry you mercy : — give your wor- ship good morrow. Fal. Take away these chalices. Go brew me a pottle*^' of sack finely. Bard. With eggs, sir ? Fal. Simple of itself; I'll no pullet-sperm in mybrewage. [Exit Bardolph.] How now ! Quick. Marry, sir, I come to your worship from Mistress Ford. Fal. Mistress Ford ! I have had ford enough ; I was thrown into the ford ; I have my belly full of ford. Quick. Alas the day ! good heart, that was not her fault : she does so take on with her men ; they mistook their erection. Fal. So did I mine, to build upon a foolish woman's pro- mise. Quick. "Well, she laments, sir, for it, that it would yearn your heart to see it. Her husband goes this morning a-bird- ing ; she desires you once more to come to her between eight and nine : I must carry her word quickly : she'll make you amends, I warrant you. Fal. Well, I will visit her : tell her so ; and bid her think SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 391 what a man is : let her consider his frailty, and then judge of my merit. Quick. I will tell her. Fal. Do so. Between nine and ten, sayest thou ? Quick. Eight and nine, sir. Fal. Well, be gone : I will not miss her. Quick. Peace be with you, sir. [^Eait. Fal. I marvel I hear not of Master Brook ; he sent me word to stay within : I like his money well. — 0, here he comes. Enter Ford disguised. Ford. Bless you, sir ! Fal. Now, Master Brook, — you come to know what hath passed between me and Ford's wife ? Ford. That, indeed, Sir John, is my business. Fal. Master Brook, I will not lie to you : I was at her house the hour she appointed me. Ford. And how sped you, sir J'^'^' Fal. Very ill-favouredly. Master Brook. Ford. How so, sir ? Did she change her determination ? Fal. No, Master Brook ; but the peaking cornuto her hus- band. Master Brook, dwelling in a continual 'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our encounter, after we had em- braced, kissed, protested, and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy ; and at his heels a rabble of his companions, thither provoked and instigated by his distemper, and, for- sooth, to search his house for his wife's love. Ford. What, while you were there ? Fal. While I was there. Ford. And did he search for you, and could not find you? Fal. You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page ; gives intelligence of Ford's approach ; and, by her invention and Ford's wife's direction,''^' they con- veyed me into a buck-basket. Ford. A buck-basket ! Fal. By the Lord, a buck-basket ! — rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy napkins ; that. Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of vil- lanous smell that ever offended nostril. Ford. And how long lay you there ? 392 THE MEEEY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act hi. Fal. Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have suffered to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane : they took me on their shoulders ; met the jealous knave their master in the door, who asked them once or twice what they had in their bas- ket :'^' I quaked for fear, lest the lunatic knave would have searched it ; but fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well : on went he for a search, and away went I for foul clothes. But mark the sequel. Master Brook : I suf- fered the pangs of three several deaths ; first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with'^^' a jealous rotten bell-wether ; next, to be compassed, like a good bilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point,heel to head ; and then, to be stopped in, like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted in their own grease : think of that, — a man of my kidney, — think of that, — that am as subject to heat as butter ; a man of continual dissolution and thaw ; — it was a miracle to scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stewed in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that surge, like a horse-shoe ; think of that, — hissing hot, — think of that. Master Brook. Ford. In good sadness, sir, I am sorry that for my sake you have suffered all this. My suit, then, is desperate ; you'll undertake her no more ? Fal. Master Brook, I will be thrown into Etna, as I have been into Thames, ere I will leave her thus. Her husband is this morning gone a-birding : I have received from her an- other embassy'*® of meeting; 'twixt eight and nine is the hour. Master Brook. Ford. 'Tis past eight already, sir. Fal. Is it ? I will then address me to my appointment. Come to me at your convenient leisure, and you shaU know how I speed ; and the conclusion shall be crowned with your enjoying her. Adieu. You shall have her. Master Brook; Master Brook, you shall cuckold Ford. [Exit. Ford. Hum, — ha ! is this a vision ? is this a dream ? do I sleep ? Master Ford, awake ! awake, Master Ford ! there's SCENE I.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 393 a hole made in your best coat, Master Ford. This 'tis to be rparried ! this 'tis to have linen and buck-baskets ! — Well, I will proclaim myself what I am : I will now take the lecher ; he is at my house ; he cannot scape me ; 'tis impossible he should ; he cannot creep into a halfpenny purse, nor into a pepper-box : but, lest the devil that guides him should aid him, I will search impossible places. Though what I am I cannot avoid, yet to be what I would not shall not make me tame : if I have horns to make me'*" mad, let the proverb go with me, — I'll be horn-mad. [Exit. ACT IV. Scene I. The street. Enter Mistress Page, Mistress Quickly, and William. Mrs. Page. Is he at Master Ford's already, thinkest thou? Quick. Sure he is by this, or will be presently : but, truly, he is very courageous mad about his throwing into the water. Mistress Ford desires you to come suddenly. Mrs. Page. I'll be with her by and by; I'll but bring my young man here to school. Look, where his master comes : 'tis a playing-day, I see. Snfer Sir Hugh Evans. How now, Sir Hugh ! no school to-day ? Evans. No; Master Slender is let'*® the boys leave to play. Quick. Blessing of his heart ! Mrs. Page. Sir Hugh, my husband says my son profits nothing in the world at his book. I pray you, ask him some questions in his accidence. Evans. Come hither, William ; hold up your head ; come. Mrs. Page. Come on, sirrah; hold up your head ; answer your master, be not afraid. Evans. William, how many numbers is in nouns ? Will. Two. 394 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act iv. Qmck. Truly, I thought there had been one number more, because they say, Od's-nouns. Evans. Peace your tattlings. — ^What is fair, William ? Will. Pulcher. Quick. Polecats ! there are fairer things than polecats, sure. Evans. You are a very simplicity oman : I pray you, peace. — ^What is lapis, William ? Will. A stone. Evans. And what is a stone, William ? Will. A pebble. Evans. No, it is lapis : I pray you, remember in your prain. Will. Lapis. Evans. That is a good William. What is he, William, that does lend articles ? Will. Articles are borrowed of the pronoun, and be thus declined, Singulariter, nominativo, hie, hcec, hoc. Evans. Nominativo, hig, hag, hog ; — pray you, mark : genitive, hujus. Well, what is your accusative case ? Will. Accusative, hunc.®^^ Evans. I pray you, have your remembrance, child; accu- sative, hung, hang, hog. Quick. Hang-hog is Latin for bacon, I warrant you. ■ Evans. Leave your prabbles, oman. — What is the focative case, William ? Will. 0, — vocativo, 0. Evans. Eemember, William ; focative is caret. Quick. And that's a good root. Evans. Oman, forbear. Mrs. Page. Peace ! Evans. What is your genitive case plural, William ? Will. Genitive case ! Evans. Ay. Will. Genitivo, — horum, harum, horum. Quick. Vengeance of Jenny's case ! fie on her ! — never name her, child, if she be a whore. Evans. For shame, oman. Quick. You do ill to teach the child such words: — he teaches him to hick and to hack, which they'll do fast enough of themselves, and to call whorum : — fie upon j'ou ! SCENE II.] THE MBREY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 395 Evans. Oman, art thou lunatics? hast thou no under- standings for thy cases, and the numbers and the genders?'^"' Thou art as foolish Christian creatures as I would desires. Mrs. Page. Prithee, hold thy peace. Evans. Show me now, William, some declensions of your pronouns. Will. Forsooth, I have forgot. Evans. It is qui, quce, quod : if you forgot your qu/ies, your quces, and your quods, you must be preeches. Go your ways, and play ; go. Mrs. Page. He is a better scholar than I thought he was. Evans. He is a good sprag memory. Farewell, Mistress Page. Mrs. Page. Adieu, good Sir Hugh. [Exit Sir Hugh.] — Get you home, boy. — Come, we stay too long. [Exeunt. Scene II. A ivom in Foed's house. Enter Falstaff and Mistress Fohd. Fal. Mistress Ford, your sorrow hath eaten up my suffer- ance. I see you are obsequious in your love, and I profess requital to a hair's breadth ; not only. Mistress Ford, in the simple office of love, but in all the accoutrement, comple- ment, and ceremony of it. But are you sure of your hus- band now ? Mrs. Ford. He's a-birding, sweet Sir John. Mrs. Page, [within'] What, ho, gossip Ford ! what, ho ! Mrs. Ford. Step into the chamber. Sir John. [Exit Falstaff. Enter Mistress Page. Mrs. Page. How now, sweetheart ! who's at home besides yourself? Mrs. Ford. Why, none but mine own people. Mrs. Page. Indeed ! Mrs. Ford. No, certainly. — [Aside to her] Speak louder. Mrs. Page. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here. ' Mrs. Ford. Why ? 396 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act iv. Mrs. Page. Why, woman, your husband is in his old lunes*^" again : he so takes on yonder with my husband ; so rails against all married mankind; so curses all Eve's daugh- ters, of what complexion soever ; and so buffets himself on the forehead, crying, "Peer out, peer out !" that any mad- ness I ever yet beheld seemed but tameness, civility, and patience, to this his distemper he is in now : I am glad the fat knight is not here. Mrs. Ford. Why, does he talk of him ? Mrs. Page. Of none but him ; and swears he was carried out, the last time he searched for him, in a basket ; protests to my husband he is now here ; and hath drawn him and the rest of their company from their sport, to make another ex- periment of his suspicion : but I am glad the knight is not here ; now he shall see his own foolery. Mrs. Ford. How near is he. Mistress Page ? Mrs. Page. Hard by; at street end; he wiU be here anon. Mrs. Ford. I am undone ! — the knight is here. Mrs. Page. Why, then, you are utterly ashamed, and he's but a dead man. What a woman are you ! — Away with him, away with him ! better shame than murder. Mrs. Ford. Which way should he go ? how should I be- stow him ? Shall I put him into the basket again ? Re-enter Falstaff. Fal. No, I'll come no more i' the basket. May I not go out ere he come ? Mrs. Page. Alas, three of Master Ford's brothers watch the door with pistols, that none shall issue out ; otherwise you might slip away ere he came. But what make you here ? Fal. What shall I do ? — I'll creep up into the chimney. Mrs. Ford. There they always use to discharge their bird- ing-pieces. Mrs. Page. Creep into the kiln -hole. '^^^ Fal. Where is it ? Mrs. Ford. He will seek there, on my word. Neither press, coffer, chest, trunk, well, vault, but he hath an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes to them by his note : there is no hiding you in the house. Fal. I'll go out, then. SCENE II.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 397 Mrs. PageS^f If you go out in your own semblance, you die, Sir John. Unless you go out disguised, — Mrs. Ford. How might we disguise him ? Mrs. Page. Alas the day, I know not ! There is no woman's gown big enough for him ; otherwise he might put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchief, and so escape. Fal. Good hearts, devise something : any extremity rather than a mischief. Mrs. Ford. My maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford, has a gown above. Mrs. Page. On my word, it will serve him ; she's as big as he is : and there's her thrummed hat, and her muffler too. — Run up, Sir John. Mrs. Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir John : Mistress Page and I will look some linen for your head. Mrs. Page. Quick, quick ! we'll come dress you straight : put on the gown the while. \Exit Falstaff. Mrs. Ford. I would my husband would meet him in this shape : he cannot abide the old woman of Brentford ; he swears she's a witch; forbade her my house, and hath threat- ened to beat her. Mrs. Page. Heaven guide him to thy husband's cudgel, and the devil guide his cudgel afterwards ! Mrs. Ford. But is my husband coming ? Mrs. Page. Ay, in good sadness, is he ; and talks of the basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence. Mrs. Ford. "We'll try that ; for I'll appoint my men to carry the basket again, to meet him at the door with it, as they did last time. Mrs. Page. Nay, but he'll be here presently : let's go dress him like the witch of Brentford. ' Mrs. Ford. I'll first direct my men what they shall do with the basket. Go up ; I'll bring linen for him straight. \Exit. Mrs. Page. Hang him, dishonest varlet ! we cannot mis- use him''* enough. We'll leave a proof, by that which we will do, Wives may be merry, and yet honest too : We do not act that often jest and laugh ; 'Tis old, but true, — Still swine eat all the draff. \_Exit. VOL. I. nn 398 THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOE. [act it. Re-enter Mistress Ford with two Servants. Mrs. Ford. Go, sirs, take the basket again on your shoul- ders: your master is hard at door; if he bid you set it down, obey him : quickly, dispatch. [Exit, First Serv. Come, come, take it up. See. Serv. Pray heaven it be not full of knight again. First Serv. I hope not ; I had as lief bear®'* so much lead. Unter Ford, Page, Shallow, Caius, and Sib Hugh Evans. Ford. Ay, but if it prove true, Master Page, have you any way then to unfool me again? — Set down the basket, villains !®^' — Somebody call my wife. — Youth in a basket !*'" — you panderly rascals ! there's a knot, a ging,"*' a pack, a conspiracy against me : now shall the devil be shamed. — What, wife, I say ! come, come forth !®^' behold what honest clothes you send forth to bleaching ! Page. Why, this passes ! Master Ford, you are not to go loose any longer ; you must be pinioned. Evans. Why, this is lunatics ! this is mad as a mad dog ! Shal. Indeed, Master Ford, this is not well ; indeed. Ford. So say I too, sir. Be-enter Mistress Ford. Come hither. Mistress Ford; Mistress Ford, the honest woman, the modest wife, the virtuous creature, that hath the jealous fool to her husband! — I suspect without cause, mistress, do I? Mrs. Ford. Heaven be my witness you do, if you suspect me in any dishonesty. Ford. Well said, brazen-face ! hold it out. — Come forth, sirrah ! [Pulling the clothes out of the basket. Page. This passes ! Mrs. Ford. Are you not ashamed ? let the clothes alone. Ford. I shall find you anon. Evans. 'Tis unreasonable ! Will you take up your wife's clothes ? Come away. Ford. Empty the basket, I say ! Mrs. Ford. Why, man, why, — Ford. Master Page, as I am a man, there was one con- veyed out of my house yesterday in this basket : why may SCENE II.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 399 not he be there again ? In my house I am sure he is : my intelligence is true; my jealousy is reasonable. — Pluck me out all the linen. Mrs. Ford. If you find a man there, he shall die a flea's death. Page. Here's no man. Shal. By my fidelity, this is not well, Master Ford ; this wrongs you. Evans. Master Ford, you must pray, and not follow the imaginations of your own heart : this is jealousies. Ford. Well, he's not here I seek for. Page.. No, nor nowhere else but in your brain. Ford. Help to search my house this one time. If I find not what I seek, show no colour for my extremity ; let me for ever be your table-sport ; let them say of me, " As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his wife's leman." Satisfy me once more ; once more search with me. Mrs. Ford. What, ho. Mistress 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 Brentford. Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean ! Have I not forbid her my house ? She comes of errands, does she ? We are simple men ; we do not know what's brought to pass under the profession of fortune-teUing. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure ; and such daubery as this is beyond our element ; we know nothing. — Come down, you witch, you hag, you ; come down, I say ! Mrs. Ford. Nay, good, sweet husband, — Good gentlemen, let him not''""' strike the old woman. Re-enter Falstapp in women's clothes, led hy Mistress Page. Mrs. Page. Come, Mother Prat ; come, give me your hand. Ford. I'll prat her. — [Beating him] Out of my door, you witch, you hag,*"" you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon ! out, out ! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. [Exit Falstaff. Mrs. Page. Are you not ashamed? I think you have killed the poor woman. Mrs. Ford. Nay, he will do it. — 'Tis a goodly credit for you. Ford. Hang her, witch ! 400 THE MEEKY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act it. Evans. By yea and no, I think the oman is a witch indeed : I like not when a oman has a great peard : I spy a great peard under her'^"" muffler. Ford. WUl you follow, gentlemen ? I beseech you, follow ; see but the issue of my jealousy : if I cry out thus upon no trail, never trust me when I open again. Page. Let's obey his humour a little further : come, gentle- men. [Exeunt Ford, Page, Shal., Caius, and Evans. Mrs. Page. Trust me, he beat him most pitifully. Mrs. Ford. Nay, by the mass, that he did not ; he beat him most unpitifully methought. Mrs. Page. I'll have the cudgel hallowed, and hung o'er the altar ; it hath done meritorious service. Mrs. Ford. What think you ? may we, with the warrant of womanhood and the witness of a good conscience, pursue him with any further revenge ? Mrs. Page. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him : if the devil have him not in fee-simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again. Mrs. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how we have served him? Mrs. Page. Yes, by aU means ; if it be but to scrape the figures out of your husband's brains. If they can find in their hearts the poor unvirtuous fat knight shall be any further afflicted, we two will still be the ministers. Mrs. Ford. I'll warrant they'll have him publicly shamed: and methinks there would be no period to the jest, should he not be publicly shamed. Mrs. Page. Come, to the forge with it, then ; shape it : I would not have things cool. [Exeunt. Scene III. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter Host and Baedolph. Bard. Sir, the Germans desire'^"* to have three of your horses : the duke himself will be to-morrow at court, and they are going to meet him. SCENE IV.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 401 Host. What duke should that be comes so secretly ? I hear not of him in the court. Let me speak with the gentle- men : they speak English ? Bard. Ay, sir; I'U call them^i"* to you. Host. They shall have my horses; but I'll make them pay ; I'll sauce them : they have bad my house*^"*' a week at command ; I have turned away my other guests : they must come off ; I'll sauce them. Come. [Exeunt. Scene IV. A room in Ford's house. Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, Mistress Ford, and Sib Hugh Evans. Evans. 'Tis one of the best discretions of a oman as ever I did look upon. Page. And did he send you both these letters at an instant ? Mrs. Page. Within a quarter of an hour. Ford. Pardon me, wife. Henceforth do what thou wilt ; I rather will suspect the sun with cold'""* Than thee with wantonness : now doth thy honour stand,- In him that was of late an heretic. As firm as faith. Page. 'Tis well, 'tis well ; no more : Be not as extreme in submission As in offence. But let our plot go forward : let our wives Yet once again, to make us public sport, Appoint a meeting with this old fat fellow, Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it. Ford. There is no better way than that they spoke of. Page. How ! to send him word they'll meet him in the Park at midnight ? Fie, fie ! he'll never come. Evans. You say he has been thrown in the rivers ;*^°" and has been grievously peaten, as an old oman : methinks there should be terrors in him that he should not come ; methinks his flesh is punished, he shall have no desires. Page. So think I "too. Mrs. Ford. Devise but how you'll use him when he comes. And let us two devise to bring him thither. 402 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act iv. Mrs. Page. There is an old tale goes, that Heme the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest. Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight, "Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd'^"*' horns ; And there he blasts the trees,*^"*' and takes the cattle. And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain In a most hideous and dreadful manner : You've heard of such a spirit ; and well you know The superstitious idle-headed eld Eeceiv'd, and did deliver to our age. This tale of Heme the hunter for a truth. Page. Why, yet there want not many that do fear In deep of night to walk by this Heme's oak : But what of this ? Mrs. Ford. Marry, this is our device ; That Falstaff at that oak shall meet with us, Disguis'd like Heme, with huge horns on his head.*^^® Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come : And in this shape when you have brought him thither. What shall be done with him ? what is your plot ? Mrs. Page. That likewise have we thought upon, and thus. Nan Page my daughter, and my little son. And three or four more of their growth, we'll dress Like urchins, ouphs, and fairies, green and white. With rounds of waxen tapers on their heads. And rattles in their hands : upon a sudden. As Falstaff, she, and I, are newly met, Let them from forth a sawpit rush at once With some diffused song : upon their sight, We two in great amazedness will fly : Then let them all encircle him about. And, fairy-Kke, to-pinch the unclean knight ; And ask him why, that hour of fairy revel. In their so sacred paths he dares to tread In shape profane. Mrs. Ford.'^^^^ And till he tell the truth. Let the supposed fairies pinch him sound, '"^' And burn him with their tapers. Mrs. Page. The truth being known, We'll all present ourselves, dis-horn the spirit. SCENE v.] THE MEEEY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 403 And mock him home to Windsor. Ford. The children must Be practis'd well to this, or they'll ne'er do't. Evans. I will teach the children their behaviours ; and I will be like a jack-an-apes also, to burn the knight with my taber. Ford. That will be excellent. I'll go buy them visards. Mrs. Page. My Nan shall be the queen of all the fairies, Finely attired in a robe of white. Page. That silk will I go buy : — [aside'] and in that tire"^" Shall Master Slender steal my Nan away. And marry her at Eton. — Go send to Falstaff straight. Ford. Nay, I'll to him again in name of Brook : He'll tell me all his purpose : sure, he'll come. Mrs. Page. Fear not you that. Go get us properties. And tricking for our fairies. Evans. Let us about it : it is admirable pleasures and fery honest knaveries. [Exeunt Page, Ford, and Evans. Mrs. Page. Go, Mistress Ford, Send quickly to Sir John, to know his mind. [Eaiit Mrs. Ford. I'll to the doctor : he hath my good will, And none but he, to marry with Nan Page. That Slender, though well landed, is an idiot ; And he my husband best of all affects. The doctor is well money'd, and his friends Potent at court : he, none but he, shall have her, Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her. [Exit. Scene V. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter Host and Simple. Host. What wouldst thou have, boor ? what, thick-skin ? speak, breathe, discuss ; brief, short, quick, snap. Sim. Marry, sir, I come to speak with Sir John Falstaff from Master Slender. Host. There's his chamber, his house, his castle, his stand- ing-bed, and truckle-bed ; 'tis painted about with the story of 404 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [act iv. the Prodigal, fresh and new. Go knock and call ; he'll speak like an Anthropophaginian unto thee : knock, I say. Sim. There's an old woman, a fat woman, gone up into his chamber : I'U be so bold as stay, sir, till she come down ; I come to speak with her, indeed. Host. Ha ! a fat woman ! the knight may be robbed : I'll caU. — Bully knight ! bully Sir John ! speak from thy lungs military: art thou there? it is thine host, thine Ephesian, calls. Fal. [above] How now, mine host ! Host. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar tarries the coming down of thy fat woman. Let her descend, bully, let her descend ; my chambers are honourable : fie ! privacy ? fie ! Enter Faistapp. Fal. There was, mine host, an old fat woman even now ■with me ; but she's gone. Sim. Pray you, sir, was't not the wise woman of Brent- ford? Fal. Ay, marry, was it, muscle-shell : what would you with her? Sim. My master, sir. Master Slender, '^^^ sent to her, see- ing her go thorough the streets, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the chain or no. Fal. I spake with the old woman about it. Sim. And what says she, I pray, sir ? Fal. Marry, she says that the very same man that beguiled Master Slender of his chain cozened him of it. Sim. I would I could have spoken with the woman her- self; I had other things to have spoken with her too from him. Fal. What are they ? let us know. Host. Ay, come; quick. Sim. I may not conceal them, sir. Host. Conceal them, or thou diest."^*' Sim. Why, sir, they were nothing but about Mistress Anne Page ; to know if it were my master's fortune to have her or no. Fal. "lis, 'tis his fortune. Sim. What, sir ? Fal. To have her, — or no. Go; say the woman told me so. Sim. May I be bold to say so, sir ? SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 405 Fal. Ay, sir ; like who more bold.'""' Sim. I thank your worship : I shall make my master glad with these tidings. [Exit. Host. Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly. Sir John. Was there a wise woman with thee ? Fal. Ay, that there was, mine host ; one that hath taught me more wit than ever I learned before in my life ; and I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning. JEnter Baedolph. Bard. Out, alas, sir ! cozenage, mere cozenage ! Host. Where be my horses ? speak weU of them, varletto. Bard. Run away with by the cozeners :*"" for so soon as I came beyond Eton, they threw me off, from behind one of them, in a slough of mire; and set spurs and away, like three German devils, three Doctor Paustuses. Host. They are gone but to meet the duke, villain : do not say they be fled ; Germans are honest men. Enter Sm Hugh Evans. Evans. Where is mine host ? Host. What is the matter, sir ? Evans. Have a care of your entertainments : there is a friend of mine come to town, tells me there is three cozen- germans that has cozened all the hosts of Readings, of Mai- denhead, of Colebrook, of horses and money. I tell you for good will, look you : you are wise, and full of gibes and vlouting-stogs, and 'tis not convenient you should be cozened. Fare you well. [Exit. Enter Doctor Caius. Caius. Vere is mine host de Jarteer ? Host. Here, master doctor, in perplexity and doubtful dilemma. Caius. I cannot tell vat is dat : but it is tell-a me dat you make grand preparation for a duke de Jarmany : by my trot, dere is no duke dat de court is know to come. I tell you for good vill : adieu. [Exit. Host. Hue and cry, villain, go ! — Assist me, knight. — I am undone ! — Fly, run, hue and cry, villain ! — I am undone ! [Exeunt Host and Bard. 406 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act iv. Fal. I would all the world might be cozened ; for I have been cozened and beaten too. If it should come to the ear of the court, how I have been transformed, and how my trans- formation hath been washed and cudgelled, they would melt me out of my fat drop by drop, and liquor fishermen's boots with me : I warrant they would whip me with their fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried pear. I never prospered since I forswore myself at primero. Well, if my wind were but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent.'^"' Enter Mistress Quickly. Now, whence come you ? Quick. From the two parties, forsooth. Fal. The devil take one party, and his dam the other! and so they shall be both bestowed. I have suffered more for their sakes, more than the villanous inconstancy of man's disposition is able to bear. Quick. And have not they suffered ? Yes, I warrant ; speciously one of them ; Mistress Ford, good heart, is beaten black and blue, that you cannot see a white spot about her. Fal. What tellest thou me of black and blue? I was beaten myself into all the colours of the rainbow ; and I was like to be apprehended for the witch of Brentford : but that my admirable dexterity of wit, my counterfeiting the action of an old woman, delivered me, the knave constable had set me i' the stocks, i' the common stocks, for a witch. Quick. Sir, let me speak with you in your chamber : you shaU hear how things go ; and, I warrant, to your content. Here is a letter will say somewhat. Good hearts, what ado here is to bring you together! Sure, one of you does not serve heaven weU, that you are so crossed. Fal. Come up into my chamber. \Exeunt. Scene VI. Another room in the Garter Inn. Enter Fenton and Host. Host. Master Fenton, talk not to me ; my mind is heavy : I will give over all. S9E1IE VI.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 407 Pent. Yet hear me speak. Assist me in my purpose. And, as I am a gentleman, I'll give thee A hundred pound in gold more than your loss. Host. I will hear you, Master Fenton ; and I will at the least keep your counsel. Fent. From time to time I have acquainted you With the dear love I hear to fair Anne Page ; Who mutually hath answer'd my affection, So far forth as herself might be her chooser. Even to my wish : I have a letter from her Of such contents as you will wonder at ; The mirth whereof so larded with my matter. That neither singly can be manifested Without the show of both ; — wherein fat Falstaff Hath a great share :*"^' the image of the jest I'll show you here at large. Hark, good mine host. To-night at Heme's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one, Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen ; The purpose why, is here : in which disguise. While other jests are something rank on foot, Her father hath commanded her to slip Away with Slender, and with him at Eton Immediately to marry : she hath consented : Nbw, sir, Her mother, ever strong'^^"' against that match. And firm for Doctor Cains, hath appointed That he shall likewise shuffle her away, While other sports are tasking of their minds, And at the deanery, where a priest attends. Straight marry her : to this her mother's plot She seemingly obedient, likewise hath Made promise to the doctor. — ^Now, thus it rests : Her father means she shall be all in white ; And in that habit, when Slender sees his time To take her by the hand, and bid her go. She shall go with him : her mother hath intended, The better to denote'^^" her to the doctor, — For they must all be mask'd and visarded, — That quaint in green she shall be loose enrob'd. With ribands pendent, flaring 'bout her head ; 408 THE MERRY WIVES 01" WINDSOR. [act v. And when the doctor spies his vantage ripe, To pinch her by the hand, and, on that token. The maid hath given consent to go with him. Host. Which means she to deceive, father or mother ? Fent. Both, my good host, to go along with me : And here it rests, — that you'll procure the vicar To stay for me at church 'twixt twelve and one, And, in the lawful name of marrying, *^^^' To give our hearts united ceremony. Host. Well, husband your device ; I'll to the vicar : Bring you the maid, you shall not lack a priest. Fent. So shall I evermore be bound to thee ; Besides, I'll make a present recompense. [Exeunt. ACT V. Scene I. A room in the Garter Inn. Enter Faistapf and Mistress Quickly. Fal. Prithee, no more prattling ; go : — I'll hold. This is the third time ; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away, go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. Away. Quick. I'll provide you a chain ; and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns. Fal. Away, I say; time wears : hold up your head, and mince. [_Exit Mrs. Quickly. Enter Foed disguised. How now. Master Brook ! Master Brook, the matter will be known to-night, or never. Be you in the Park about mid- night, at Heme's oak, and you shall see wonders. Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed ? Fal. I went to her. Master Brook, as you see, like a poor old man : but I came from her. Master Brook, like a poor old woman. That same knave Ford, her husband, hath the SCENE III.] THE MEBRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 409 finest mad devil of jealousy in him, Master Brook, that ever governed frenzy : — I wUl tell you : — he beat me grievously, in the shape of a woman ; for in the shape of man, Master Brook, I fear not Goliath with a weaver's beam ; because I know also life is a shuttle. I am in haste ; go along with me : I'll teU you all. Master Brook. Since I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten till lately. FoUow me : I'll tell you strange things of this knave Ford ; on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand. Follow : — strange things in hand, Master Brook : — follow. [^Exeunt. Scene II. Windsor Park. Miter Page, Shallow, and Slender. Page. Come, come ; we'll couch i' the castle-ditch till we see the light of our fairies. — Eemember, son Slender, my daughter."''® Slen. Ay, forsooth ; I have spoke with her, and we have a nay- word how to know one another : I come to her in white, and cry "mum;" she cries "budget;" and by that we know one another. Shal. That's good too ; but what needs either your " mum" or her " budget" ? the white will decipher her well enough. — It hath struck ten o'clock. Page. The night is. dark; light and spirits will become it well. Heaven prosper our sport ! No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns. Let's away; follow me. [Exeunt. Scene III. A street leading to the Park. Enter Mistebss Page, Mistress Ford, and Doctor Caius. Mrs. Page. Master doctor, my daughter is in green : when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and dispatch it quickly. Go before into the Park : we two must go together. Caius,_ I know vat I have to do. Adieu. 4]0 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act v. Mrs. Page. Fare you well, sir. [Exit Caius.] — ^My hus- band will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying my daughter : but 'tis no matter; better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak. Mrs. Ford. Where is Nan now and her troop of fairies ? and the Welsh devil Hugh?^^* Mrs. Page. They are all couched in a pit hard by Heme's oak, with obscured lights ; which, at the very instant of Fal- staff's and our meeting, they will at once display to the night. Mrs. Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him. Mrs. Page. If he be not amazed, he will be mocked ; if he be amazed, he wUl every way be mocked. Mrs. Ford. We'll betray him finely. Mrs. Page. Against such lewdsters and their lechery Those that betray them do no treachery. Mrs. Ford. The hour draws on. To the oak, to the oak! [Exeunt. Scene TV. Windsor Park. Enter Sir Hugh Evans disguised as a Satyr, with Anne Page and others as Fairies. Evans. Trib, trib, fairies ; come ; and remember your parts : be pold, I pray you ; follow me into the pit ; and when I give the watch-ords, do as I pid you : come, come ; trib, trib. [Exeunt. Scene V. Another part of the Park. Enter Falstaff disguised as Heme, with a buck's head on. Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the minute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! — Re- member, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa ; love set on thy horns : — powerful love ! that, in some respects, makes a beast a man ; in some other, a man a beast. — You were also, Jupiter, a swan for the love of Leda : — omni- potent love ! how near the god drew to the complexion of a goose ! — A fault done first in the form of a beast ; — Jove, a beastly fault ! — and then another fault in the semblance of SCENE v.] THE MERBY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 411 a fowl ; — think on't, Jove ; a foul fault ! When gods have hot backs, what shall poor men do ? For me, I am here a Windsor stag ; and the fattest, I think, i' the forest. — Send me a cool rut-time, Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow ? — Who comes here ? my doe ? Enter Mistebss Ford and Mistress Page. Mrs. Ford. Sir John ! art thou there, my deer ? my male deer? Fal. My doe with the black so lit ! — Let the sky rain potatoes ; let it thunder to the tune of Green sleeves,* hail kissing-comfits, and snow eryngoes ; let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her. Mrs. Ford. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. Fal. Divide me like a bribed buck,'^^^' each a haunch : I will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my horns I bequeath your husbands. Am I a woodman, ha ? Speak I like Heme the hunter ? — Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome ! \_Noise within. Mrs. Page. Alas, what noise? Mrs. Ford. Heaven forgive our sins ! Fal. What should this be ? Mrs. Ford.] ■ , r^, ^ Mrs. Pa^e.p™^' ^^^^ ' ^^^^y ^^^ ''^• Fal. I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oU that's in me should set hell on fire ; he would never else cross me thus. Enter Sib Hush Evans, as a Satyr; another person, as HohgoUin ; Anne Page, as the Fairy Queen, attended by her Brother and others, as Fairies, with waxen tapers on their heads. Anne.'^^^^ Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, You moonshine revellers, and shades of night. You orphan heirs'^^" of fixed destiny, Attend your office and your quality. — Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy oyes. Hohgoh. Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys. Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap : * See note p. 423. 412 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act t. Where fires thou find'st unrak'd and hearths unswept,'^'" There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry : Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery. Fal. They're fairies ; he that speaks to them shall die : I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye. \Lies down upon his face. Evans. Where's Pead ?"^^' — Go you, and where you find a maid That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said, Kein up*^^"' the organs of her fantasy ; Sleep she as sound as careless infancy : But those as sleep and think not on their sins, Pinse them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins. Anne. About, about ; Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out : Strew good luck, ouphs, on every sacred room ; That it may stand till the perpetual doom, In seat as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,'^*" Worthy the owner, and the owner it. The several chairs of order look you scour With juice of balm and every precious fiower : Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest. With loyal blazon, evermore be blest ! And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing. Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring : Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be. More fertUe-fresh than all the field to see ; And Honi soit qui mal y pense write In emerald tufts,*^^' flowers purple, blue, and white ; Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery. Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee : — Fairies use flowers for their charactery. Away ; disperse : but till 'tis one o'clock. Our dance of custom round about the oak Of Heme the hunter let us not forget. Evans. Pray you, lock hand in hand ; yourselves in order set; And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, To guide our measure round about the tree. — But, stay ; I smell a man of middle-earth. SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 413 Fal. Heavens defend me from that' Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese ! Hobgob. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. Anne. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end : If he he chaste, the flame will back descend. And turn him to no pain ; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. Hobgob. A trial, come. Evans. Come, will this wood take fire ? [They burn him with their tapers. Fal. 0, 0, ! Anne. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire ! — About him, fairies ; sing a scornful rhyme ; And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Song. Fie on sinful fantasy ! Fie on lust and luxury ! Lust is but a bloody fire, Kindled with unchaste desire, Fed in heart ; whose flames aspire. As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him, fairies, mutually; Pinch him for his villany ; Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, Till candles and starhght and moonshine be out. During this song the Fairies pinch Falstaff. Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away a Fairy in green ; Slendee another way, and takes off a Fairy in white; and Fenton comes, and steals away Anne Page. A noise of hunting is heard within. The Fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rises. Enter Page,. Ford, Mistress Page, and Mistress Ford. They lay hold on Falstaff. Page. Nay, do not fly ; I think we've watch'd you now : Will none but Heme the hunter serve your turn ? Mrs. Page. I pray you, come, hold up the jest no higher. — • Now, good Sir John, how like you Windsor wives ? — See you these, husband ? do not these fair oaks'^^^' Become the forest better than the town ? VOL. I. EB 414 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act v. Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now ? — ^Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns. Master Brook : and. Master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be paid to Master Brook ;'^'* his horses are arrested for it, Master 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 ass. Ford. Ay, and an ox too : both the proofs are extant. Fal. And these are not fairies ? I was three or four times in the thought they were not fairies : and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now how wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when 'tis upon ill employment ! Evans. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your de- sires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. Evans. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'e'r-reaching as this ? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too ? shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Evans. Seese is not goot to give putter ; your pelly is all putter. ^ Fal. " Seese" and " putter" ! have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English 9 This is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking through the realm. Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight ? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding ?'"" a bag of flax ? Mrs. Page. A puffed man ? Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails ? SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 415 Fa)-d. And one that is as slanderous as Satan ? Page. And as poor as Job ? Ford. And as wicked as his wife ? Evans. And giyen to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swear- ings and starings, pribbles and prabbles ? Fal. Well, I am your theme : you have the start of me ; I am dejected ; I am not able to answer the Welsh flannel ; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me :'^^^' use me as you will. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one Master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander : over and above that you have suffered, I think to repay that money will be a biting afiliction.* Page. Yet be cheerful, knight : thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house ; where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee : tell her Master Slender hath married her daughter. Mrs. Page, [asidel Doctors doubt that : if Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, Doctor Caius' wife. ISnter Slender. Slen. Whoa, ho ! ho, father Page ! Pa^e. Son, how now ! how now, son ! have you dispatched ? Slen. Dispatched !— I'll make the best in Glostershire know on't ; would I were hanged, la, else ! Page. Of what, son ? Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry Mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not been i' the church, I would, have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir ! — and 'tis a postmaster's boy. Page. Upon my life, then, you took the wrong. Sle7i. What need you tell me that ? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. * Here Theobald inserted from the quartos 1602, 1619 ; " Mrs. Ford. Nay, hushand, let that go to make amends ; Forgive that sum, and so we'll aU he friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand-; aU is forgiven at last." 416 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [act t. Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter by her garments ? Slen. I went to her in white, '^'^' and cried " mum," and she cried "budget," as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy. Mrs. Page. Good G-eorge, be not angry : I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green ;'^^*' and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. Enter Caius. Caius. Veie is Mistress Page ? By gar, I am cozened : I ha' married un gargon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page : by gar, I am cozened. Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green P'^'^' Caius. Ay, by gar, and 'tis a boy : by gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [_Exit. Ford. This is strange. Who hath got the right Anne ? Page. My heart misgives me : — here comes Master Fenton. Enter Fenton and Anne Page. How now. Master Fenton ! Anne. Pardon, good father ! — good my mother, pardon ! Page. Now, mistress, — how chance you went not with Master Slender ? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doctor, maid ? Fent. You do amaze her : hear the truth of it. You would have married her most shamefuUy, Where there was no proportion held in love. The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. Th' offence is holy that she hath committed ; And this deceit loses the name of craft. Of disobedience, or unduteous wile ;'^*"' Since therein she doth evitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon her. Ford. Stand not amaz'd ; here is no remedy : In love the heavens themselves do guide the state ; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. SCENE v.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 417 Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? — Fenton, heaven give thee joy !— What cannot be eschew'd must be embrac'd. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd. Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further. — Master Fenton, Heaven give you many, many merry days ! — Good husband, let us every one go home. And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire ; Sir John and all. Ford. Let it be so. — Sir John, To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word ; For he to-night shall lie with Mistress Ford. [Exeunt, NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 419 P. 346. (i) " George Page," The folio has " Thomas Page. " (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 346. (2) " Shal." To this and to Shallow's next speech the folio prefixes " Sleu." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 348. {3) " goot worts." I may just observe that here the folio has "good worts," though previously it has made Sir Hugh say " goot discretions" and " a goot motion," and pre- sently after this makes him say " Ferry goo't." (The quartos 1602, 1619, have " good vrdes.") P. 350. (4) " Michaelmas f Was altered to "Martlemas" by Theobald, who did not believe that Shake- speare intended Simple to blunder here. P. 351. (5) " contempt :" The folio has " content." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 351. (6) "faul" i. e. fault. — The folio has the spelling " fall" (and Dr. Ingleby, in his Shake- speare Fabrications, &c. p. 116, boldly asserts that formerly " the substantive 'fall' had the sense oi fault"). — (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 353. (7) " seese" Here the quartos 1602, 1619, and the folio, have " cheese :" but in act v. so. 5, the folio makes Evans say "Seese is not good to giue putter," &c. P. 353. (8) " Let me see thee froth and lime :" " The folio reads—' and live.' This passage had passed through all the edi- tions without suspicion of being corrupted ; but the reading of the old quartos of 1602 and 1619, ' Let me see thee froth and lime,' I take to be the true one. The Host calls for an immediate specimen of Bardolph's abilities as a tap- ster ; and frothing beer and liming sack were tricks practised in the time of Shakespeare. The first was done by putting soap into the bottom of the tankard when they drew the beer ; the other, by mixing Hme with the sack (i. e. sherry) to make it sparkle in the glass. Froth and live is sense, but a little forced [more than a little] ; and to make it so we must suppose the Host could guess by his dexterity in frothing a pot to make it appear fuller 420 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [notes. than it was, how he would afterwards succeed in the world. Falstaff himself complains of limed sack." Steetens. P. 353. (9) " hose Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield!" So the foHo. — The quartos 1602, 1619, have " bace gongarian wight," &c., ■ — "which," says Steevens, "is a parody on a. line taken from one of the old homhast plays, heginning, ' hase Gongarian, wilt thou the distaff wield?' I had marked the passage down, but forgot to note the play." P. 353. (10) " at a minim's rest." The old eds. have " at a minutes rest;" which some editors have obstinately retained, though Langton had pointed out the right reading, and Sic J. Haw- kins had cited from Romeo and Juliet, act ii. so. 4, "rests me his minim's rest," Sec, adding, " A minute contains sixty seconds, and is a long time for an action supposed to be instantaneous. Nym means to say, that the per- fection of stealing is to do it in the shortest time possible." — From Malone's explanation of the old text, " The true method is, to steal just at the instant when watchfulness is off its guard, and reposes but for a moment," — ^we learn that he considered a minute and a moment as synonymous ! — It now appears that Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector had here anticipated Langton. P. 354. (11) '^ she carves," Here by "carves" we are to understand some particular foiin of action, — some sign of intelligence and favour. See Glossary. P. 354. {12) " He hath studied her well, and translated her well," The folio, by an evident misprint, has " He hath studied her wiU ; and trans- lated her will." — The corresponding words in quartos 1602, 1619, are merely "Hee hath studied herwell." {In King Lear ihe folio has the misprint "will" twice, — ^in act i. sc. 1, " since what I will intend," &c., and in act i. sc. 4, " If but as will I other accents borrow," &o.) P. 364. (13) " he hath a legion of angels." The folio has " he hath a legend of angels." — The quartos 1602, 1619, have " She hMth legians of angels." P. 354. (14) " she is a region in Guiana, all gold and bounty. I will be cheater to them both," Misled by his Ms. Corrector, Mr. Collier now prints " all gold and beauty;" though nothing can be plainer than that Palstaff is thinking, not of Mrs. Page's beauty, but of her power and readiness to supply him with" money. (In act ii. sc. 2, Palstaff, speaking of Ford, says ; " Hang him, poor ouckoldly knave ! I know him not : — yet I wrong him to call him poor ; they NOTES.] THE MEEBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 421 Bay the jealous wittoUy knave hath masses of money ; /or the which Ms wife seems to me well-favoured.") And where is the "tautology" which Mr. Col- lier discovers ia " gold and iounty" I Surely Mrs. Page might have been " aU gold," and yet entirely devoid of " bounty," — " aU gold" and stinginess. With the present passage compare " as bountiful As mines of India." First Part of King Henry IV. act iiL sc. 1. — The folio has "I will he Cheaters to them both." — The quartos 1602, 1619, have " and lie be cheaters to them both." P. 355. (15) " these letters . . . . the golden shores. — " So quartos 1602, 1619. — The folio has " these golden shores," — " these" hav- ing been repeated by mistake from the preceding line. P. 355. (16) '■ 0' th' hoof;" So the second folio. — The first folio has " ith' hoofe." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 365. (17) "Sy welkin and her stars .'" The folio has " her Star." — Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector rightly makes the word plural. (The quartos 1602, 1619, have " By Welkin and her Fairies.") P. 355. (18) " to Page. Pist. And I to Ford .... Nym. . . . I will incense Page" So the text has been properly (compare act ii. sc. 1) corrected from quartos 1602, 1619.— Here the folio has "Ford" instead of "Page," and "Page" instead of " Jord." P. 355.(19) " this revolt of mine" So Pope ; and though I am by no means certain that his reading is the true one, I adopt it, the rather because we find in oui- author's King Henry V. act n. sc. 2, " For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like Another fall of man." — The folio has " the reuolt of mine ;" which is manifestly wrong, and cannot signify, what Mr. Collier and Mr. Grant White would have it mean — " my revolt." — Theobald printed "the revolt of miea." — ^Walker {Grit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 13) proposes "the revolt o/mind," — which had occurred to Jack- son. — The Cambridge Editors conjecture (not happily) "the revolt of mine anger." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) 422 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [notes. P. 357. (20) " un boitier vert," The folio has ' ' vnboyteeiie va-d," — misprmting here, as elsewhei-e, the Fi-ench most ridiculously. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 357. (zi) " You are John Bugby, and you are Jack Rugby." Mr. HaUiweU prints " and you are Jack Eogohy;" and ohserves, "I adopt the method of spelling, Rogoby, from another speech in the first quarto. The doctor seems to intend a pun on his name ; otherwise the speech is almost unmeaning." — ^But " Jack" was a common term of contempt ; and Caiua uses it with a quibble. — I now find (1863) that Mr. Grant White reads here " You are John Rugabie, and you are Jack Eogue-by," and that everywhere else he makes the doctor oaU his servant " Rugabie." P. 357. (22) " Villain ! lan-on !" So the quarto 1630. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.)— The foKo has " Villanie, La-.roone." P. 358. (23) "for your" The folio has ' ' yoe your. " — Corrected ia the second folio. (The correspond- ing words in quartos 1602, 1619, are " teU your Maister He doo what I can for him.") P. 358. (24) "for dat . . . for myself t" The folio has " ver (Jat . . . formyselfef (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) Nothing can be more inconsistent than to print here (as some editors do) " vor dat .... for myself." — The doctor has before (p. 357) said " for ;" and whenever the word afterwards occxirs in his speeches, one excepted, the foKo has that spelling. P. 359. (25) " Will If i' faith, that we will; and I will tell" Mr. HaUiweU's (comparatively modem) Ms. of this play has " i' faith, that I will," &c. ; which Hanmer and Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector also sub- stitute, — because the singular pronoun is twice used by Mrs. Quickly in the same breath. But the alteration, to say the least of it, is quite unnecessary : even now-a-days in colloquial language nothing is more common than " that we will" for " that I will." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 359. (26) "I" Was added in quarto 1630. P. 360. (27) " tlwugh Love use Reason for his physician, he admits him not for his counsellor." So Johnson and Mr. CoUier's Ms. Con-ector. — The folio has " vse Reason for his precisian, hee," &c., — a reading on which Walker (Cri«. Exam. &o. vol. iii. p. 13) justly bestows a " Bah !" (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) NOTES.] THE MEREY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 423 P. 360. (28) " the love of a soldier" The folio omits " a :" which was added in the third folio. (In this letter, as given in quartos 1602, 1619, we find "A souldier doth not vse many words," &c.) P. 360. (29) " What unweighed behaviour" The folio has " What an vnwaied Behauiow." — Corrected in the third folio. — Capell prints " What one unweighed behaviour ;" which Mr. Grant White adopts, ohserving that "the expression 'picked out' confirms this reading, in fact, requii'es it :" — but would Shakespeare have written " one behaTiotir" ? (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 360. (30) "for the putting-down of fat men." Here Theobald inserted the word."/ai," because "Mrs. Ford says ia the very ensuing [the present] scene, ' I shall think the worse of fat men, as long as I have an eye,' &c. And in the old quartos, Mrs. Page, so soon as [a little after] she has read the letter, says, 'Well, I shall trust fat men the worse, while I live, for his sake,' &o." P. 361. (31) "praised" The folio has " praise." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 361. (32) " keep pace Hundredth Psalm to the tune of Green sleeves." " Green Sleeves, or Which nobody can deny, has been a favourite tune from the time of Elizabeth to the present day ; and is stiU frequently to be heard in the streets of London to songs with the old burden, ' Which nobody can deny.' .... The earliest mention of the ballad of Green Sleeves in the Re- gisters of the Stationers' Company is in September 1580, when Richard Jones had licensed to him 'A new Northern Dittye of the Lady Greene Sleaves.' The date of the entry, however, is not always the date of the ballad ; and this had evidently attained some popularity before that time, because on the same day Edward White had a license to print ' A ballad, being the Ladie Greene Sleeves Answere to Donkyn his frende.' .... Within twelve days of the ih-st entry of Green Sleeves it was converted to a pious use, and we have Greene Sieves moralised to the Scripture, declaring 'the manifold benefites and blessings of God bestowed on sinful man.' " Chappell's Popular Music of the. Olden Time, &c. vol. i. pp. 227-8, sec. ed., — where much more may be found concerning Green Sleeves. — The foMo has " keep place .... hundi-ed Psalms." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) — The misprint "place" for "pace" oc- curs also in TroiVm and Gressida, act ui. sc. 3. P. 361. (33) "strain" Is explained to mean here " turn, tendency," &o. — Pope substituted "stain ;" and so Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. — " The modern editors read 'stain;' but, I think, unnecessarily. A. similar expression occurs in The Winter's Tale : 424 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, [notes. ' With what encounter bo UBOurrent I Have strain'd, t' appear thus.' And again, in Timon ; ' a nohle nature May catch a wrench.' " Stekvens. Compare, in aet iii. bc. 3 of the present play, " I would all of the same strain were in the same distress." P. 362. (34) ' 0, that my husband saw this letter .'" So the folio. — The quartos 1602, 1619, have " Lord if my husband should see this Letter." — According to Mr. Staunton, the " O, that" of the foUo is equivalent to " 0, if that." P. 362. (35) " Away, Sir Corporal Nym I — Believe it, Page ; he speaks sense." Johnson proposed to give the words "Believe it. Page; he speaks sense" to Nym; and to Nym they are assigned by Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector, — wi'ongly beyond all doubt, as Steevens has shown in the following note. " He [Doctor Johnson] seems not to have been aware of the manner in which the author meant this scene should be represented. Ford and Pistol, Page and Nym, enter in pairs, each pair in separate conversation; and while Pistol is informing Ford of Falstaff's design upon his wife, Nym is, during that time, talking aside to Page, and giving information of the like plot against him. — When Pistol has finished, he calls out to Nym to come away; but seeing that he and Page are still in close debate, he goes off alone, fii'st assuring Page, he may depend oa the truth of Nym's story : ' Believe it, Page,' &c. Nym then proceeds to tell the remaiuder of his tale out aloud : ' And this is true,' &c. A little fui'ther on in this scene. Ford says to Page, ' You heard what this knave (i. e. Pistol) told me,' &c. Page replies, ' Yes : and you heard what the other (i. e. Nym) told me'." — I may add (for, in spite of Steevens's note, I have lately seen the alteration in question recommended by a periodical critic) that the reading of the folio is most fxilly confirmed by quartos 1602, 1619 ; " Page, belieue him what he ses. Away sir Coi'porall Nym. lExit Pistoll." P. '362. (36) " my necessity." " ' Any necessity,' I imagine." Walker's Crit. Exam. &c. vol. ii. p. 255. P. 363. (37) "and there's the humour of it. Adieu. [Exit. Page, [aside] ' The humour of it,' quoth 'a !" The foEo, by mistake, omits "and there's the humour 0/ it,"— which words are found in quartos 1602, 1619, and which the next speech proves to be absolutely necessary. P. 363. (38) " here's a fellow frights humour out of his wits." So quartos 1602, 1619. — The folio has " frights English out of his wits," NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 425 — a reading "from wMcli," according to Mr. Collier, "there is no pretence to vary." Surely, the " pretence" is — Nym's having used his favourite word " humowr" so often in the preceding speech. P. 363. (39) " a drawling, affecting rogue." The folio has " a drawling-affecting rogue ;" which Mr. Knight and Mr. Collier retain, — Mr. Collier not hesitating to say that it means " a rogne who affects drawling." — The fact is, that the foHo abounds in passages where the hyphen, as here, is inti'oduced with odd impropriety : afterwards, in the present play, it has " Looke where my ranting-Host of the Garter comes" (p. 364) ; " your G&i-B.-Mowntaine-lookes" (p. 366) ; " shoe's a good-creature" (ibid.) ; " this old fat-fellow" (p. 401), &c. — For other instances of words wi'ongly hyphened in the folio, see note on " thin bestained cloak" in King John, act iv. sc. 3. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 363. (40) "crotchet" The foUo has "crochets." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) — Con-eoted by ■ Walker [Crit. Exam. &c. vol. i. p. 245). P. 363. (41) " we have" " Surely, ' we would have'," says Walker {Grit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 14) ; and Mr. Swynfen Jervis (unacquainted with Walker's conjecture) proposes to me " We'i have." P. 864. (42) "Ford." So quartos 1602, 1619, in the corresponding speech ; and so quarto 1630. — The folio has " Shal." P. 364. (43) "Brook;" " Thus both the old quartos ; and thus most certainly the poet wi'ote. We need no better evidence than the pun that Falstaff anon mates on the name, when Brook sends him some burnt sack, ' Such Brooks are welcome to me, that o'erflow such liquor' [p. 369]. The players, in their edition, altered the name to Broom [Broome}." Theobald (who forgets to mention that Pope was the first who restored the name " Brook" from the quartos). P. 365. (44) " Will you go, mynheers ?" The foHo has " will you goe An-heires ?" (Mr. Knight is mistaken when he states that " the parallel passage in quartos 1602, 1619, is, ' Here, boys, shall we wag?' ") — Theobald conjectured " Will you go on here?" (which Mr. Col- lier's Ms. CoiTector also substitutes) and "Will you go, mynheers f" — That the latter conjecture restores the true reading {"An-heires" being a misprint for " Min-heires") is determined by a passage in act ii. sc. 3, of Fletcher's Beggars' Bush, as exhibited in the folio of 1647, p. 80, 426 THE MEBRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [notes. " Nay, Sir, mine heire Van-dunck Is a true Statesman." (In my Few Notes, &o. p. 22, where I first adduced this passage of Fletcher, I erroneously attributed Theobald's emendation to Hanmer.) P. 365. (45) "I would have made youfov/r tall fellows skip like rats." Here Mr. Collier, in the second edition of his Shakespeare, at the suggestion of the late Mr. W. W. Williams, prints " your /owr tall fellows," obsei-v- ing that " Shallow would hardly have addressed the words ' you four tall fellows' to Ford, Page, and the Host, not merely because they were only three, but on account of the import of them." But is not Mr. Collier mistaken in supposing that Shallow, according to the old reading, calls his companions '• tall fellows" ? Is not " you," as we often find it elsewhere, used here redundantly f And do not the very words of quai-tos 1602, 1619, which Mr. Collier cites to support the alteration, evince its impropriety? "I would a made you foure tall Fencers Scipped like Eattes." P. 365. (46) " I had rather hear them scold than see them fight." So Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector (whom both Mr. Singer and Mr. Grant White have followed here). — The folio omits " see them." — Hanmer piinted "I had rather have them scold than fight." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 365. (47) " and stands so firmly on his wife's frailty," For '^frailty" Theobald substituted " fealty;" and Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector reads " fidelity." — Capell, in his strange phraseology, thus defends the old reading; "An ironical or sarcastical tone is required for frailty; and, with that tone on it, it appears a much fitter word for the mouth of one who thought the sex was made tip of it, than the labour'd word of some amenders [' fealty'] : — frailty and standing firmly are opposed to each other," &c. Notes, &o. vol. ii. P. iii. p. 84. To the same effect, but in happier language, Steevens writes ; " Ihe jealous Ford is the speaker, and all chastity in women aj^ears to him a.s frailty," &c. I may add that Mr. Staunton, after having adopted Theobald's " fealty," remarks, in the Addenda and CoiTigenda to his Shakespeare, "An antithesis was possibly intended between ^rml)/ smi. frailty. The meaning being, ' Who thinks himself so secure on what is a most brittle foundation'." P. 366. (48) " I, I, I myself " Mr. Grant White prints "/, ay, I myself," to avoid "the tame trebling of the pronoun." P. 366. (49) "your bull-baiting oaths," So Hanmer. — The folio has "yov/r bold-beating-oaiAes." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.)— Walker {Grit. Exam. &o. vol. iii. p. 14) Says, "Note Hanmer's certain conjectui'e, bull-baiting. See Dyce's ' Rfmarks,' p. 14. The confusion NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 427 of tlie two epithets arose from the broad pronunciation of ea."— Formerly " buU-iaitmg" was often spelt "'boUe-baiting :" see, for instance, Malone's Inquiry, &e. p. 84. P. 366. (50) " Quick. I'll be sworn; As my mother was, the first hour I was bom," So arranged in the folio ; nor can we douM that a rhyme was intended here. Perhaps Mrs. Quickly is quoting some song or ballad. P. 366. {51) " Well, one Mistress Ford, you say, — " So Douoe. — The foKo has " Well, on ; Mistresse Ford, you say :" but (though in the much shorter dialogue between Falstaff and Mrs. Quickly in quartos 1602, 1619, we find " Say on, I prethy," and " Goe ore") compare the preced- ing speech. P. 367. (52) " and such wine" The folio has " and in such wine," — the "in" having been repeated by mis- take. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 367. (53) " I had Thyself twenty angels given me this morning;" Is altered by Mr. Collier's Ms. CoiTector to " given me of a jnoming," &o.; and Mr. CoUier remarks, "It seems improbable that Mrs. Quickly should have had ' twenty angels' given to her ' this morning' by a person who wished to be in the good graces of Mrs. Ford," — not perceiving that the whole speech is a tissue of fictions, — that Mrs. Quiokly's invention wanders from the past to the present, — and that if she had been here speaking of the past, she could not have failed to say "J have had myself," &o. (Mr. CoUier now thinks less highly of this correction : see the second edition of his Shakespeare.) P. 368. (54) "punk" " Dr. Farmer observes, that [here] the word punk has been unnecessarily altered to pink [a vessel of the small craft, with a naiTOw stern]. In Ben Jonsou's Bartholomew Fair, Justice Overdo says of the pig-woman, ' She hath been before me, punk, pinnace, and bawd, any time these two-and- twenty years' [Jonson's Works, by Gifibrd, vol. iv. p. 408, — where see note]." Steevens. "As we know no other derivation oipunk, perhaps it is merely a corruption of pink," says Nares {Gloss, in " Pink") : — at least the former word seems to have been sometimes used (metaphorically) in the sense of the latter. P. 369. (55) " take all, or half," Mr. Staunton silently prints (with Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector) " take half or all." P. 371. (56) "soul" Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector substitutes " suit." 428 THE MEBEY WIVES OF WINDSOE. [notes. P. 372. (57) "cuckold/ wittol-cuckold !" Walker {Crit. Exam. &o. vol. iii. p. 14) would point "cuckold/ wittol/ cuck- old/" V. 373. (58) " Villain," The folio has " ViUame." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) See note zz. P. 373. (59) " varld;" Here the folio has " vorld," though tefore, p. 357, it has "varld." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 373. (60) "master doctor:" On these words, in the second edition of his Shakespeare, Mr. Collier has the following note. " In the folio, 1623, ' master doctor' is only M. Doctor, and it became Mr. Doctor in the foMo, 1664. M. and Mas. were often of old printed for ' master,' and we wonder that a man of the Eev. Mr. Dyoe's learn- ing and experience should, in his edition of Marlowe's Works, ii. p. 64, have fancied that ' Mas. doctor Lopus' meant the exclamation of Mass / and was not a- mere title : it ought to run ' Master Doctor Lopus was never such a doctor.' The asseveration derived from the Eoman Catholic Mass was gene- rally ohjected to, and excluded by the Master of the Eevels in the time of Marlowe and Shakespeare. The practice, however, was by no means uni- form." Here Mr. Collier, while taxing me with eiTor, blunders most egregiomly indeed / The passage of Faustus, which occurs in a speech of the Horse- courser, is ; "Alas, alas! Doctor Fustian, quoth a? muss, Doctor Lopus was never such a doctor : has given me a purgation, has purged me of forty dollars," Ac; and if Mr. Collier had done more than dip into the play in order to light on something with which he might find fault, he would have read, a page and a half earlier, in a speech of the same personage ; " I have been all this day seeking one Master Fustian : mass, see where he is ! — God save you, Master Doctor !" which sufficiently proves that in the first of these speeches I rightly printed "mass." But how came Mr. Collier so boldly to affirm that the old quarto (of which no copy is known to exist except that in the Bodleian Library) has " Mas. Doctor Lopus," giving "Mas." as the abbreviation of "Master"? There the two passages above quoted stand literatim thus, — "mass" and "master" being clearly distinguished by the speUing ; " Alas, alas. Doctor Fustian quoth a, mas Doctor Lupus was neuer such a Doctor, has giuen me a purgation," &o. " I haue beene al this day seeking one maister Fustian : masse see where he is, God sane you, maister doctor." P. 374. (61) "A word. Monsieur Mock-water." So quartos 1602, 1619. — The foUo, by a manifest omission, has "a Moun- NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 429 sew Mocke-water." — (Instead of "Jlfocft-Mater," Fanner would read " Muok- water.") P. 374 {62) " Me dank youfordat." Here the folio has "Me tanok you for dat;" but, presently after, it makes Caius say " mee dancke you," &o. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 374. (63) "Cried I aim?' The quartos 1602, 1619, have " cried game ;'' the folio has " CcWc-game," — faulty perhaps only in a single letter, g iastead of I (or instead of y, for the original Ms. may have had " cried y ame"). So afterwards in this play, p. 379, " and to these violent proceedings all my neighhom-s shall cry aim;" and in King John, act ii. so. 1, " It ill beseems this presence to cry aim To these Ul-tunSd repetitions ;" — " cry aim" being an expression of frequent occurrence in the wi-itings of our author's contemporaries. (In the present passage, " Cried I aim /" was first proposed by Douce, Illustr. of Shakespeare, i. 71, — of which I vfas not aware when, in my Remarks on Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knight's eds. of Shakespeare, p. 15, I brought it forward as my own emendation). — 1863. Mr. Collier, in the second edition of his Shakespeare, does not scruple to adopt here the reading of his Ms. Corrector, " curds and cream" ! P. 375. (64) -"tlie Pitty-ward," So the foUo (" the pittie-ward") ; which has been altered to " the Vitty-ioary," "the citj-ward," "the Petty-iuard," "the pit-way," and "the j>it-ioard." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 376. (65) " vagram" May have been intended to indicate the increasing perturbation of Sir Hugh : but perhaps both here and just above he ought to say "vragrant" or "va- grant." P. 377. (66) " Gallia and Guallia," The quartos 1602, 1619, have "gawle and gawlia ;" the fohohas "Gallia and Gaule." P. 378. (67) " and the no-verbs. — Give me thy hand, terrestrial; so. — Give me thy hand, celestial; so." This is the reading of quartos 1602, 1619. — The passage in the folio stands mutilated thus ; " and the No-verbes. Giue me thy hand [Celestial) so." P. 378. (68) "lads" So quartos 1602, 1619.— The folio has " Lad." VOL. I. FF 430 THE MERBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [notes. P. 378. (69) "for want of company." Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector gives "for want of yonx company." P. 379. (70) " where" So Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. — The folio has " there." P. 381. (71) " ' Have I caught my heavenly jewel I' " So quartos 1602, 1619. — The foMo has " Haue I caught thee, my heauenly lewell ?" — " thee" having most probably been foisted into the text by some transcriber, it not by the players, from ignorance that Falstaff is here quot- ing the first line of the Second Song in Sidney's Astrophel and Stella, " Have I caught my heavenly jewel, Teaching sleep most fair to be ?" &c. P. 382. (72) "By the Lord, thou art a traitor to say so .'' So quartos 1602, 1619. — The folio reads more briefly " Thou art a tyi'ant to say so," — the words " By the Lord" having undoubtedly been omitted in con- sequence of the statute, and " tyrant" being a poor and not very intelligible substitution for " traitor" (i. e. traitor to thy own merit). P. 382. (73) "I see what thou wert, if Fortune thy foe were not. Nature thy friend." Mr. Collier (note ad I.) may be right in understanding " being" after " Na- ture :" and it would seem that Shakespeare wrote " If Fortune thy foe were not," — instead of the more natural collocation, " If Fortune were not thy foe," — that the words "Fortune thy foe" might answer to the commence- ment of the well-known ballad, " Fortune, my foe." P. 384. (74) " and none but thee ;" Not in the folio. — " These words [' and none but thee^], which are charac- teristic, and spoken to Mrs. Page aside, deserve to be restored from the old quarto. He had used the same words before to Mrs. Ford." Malone. — Without these words, I think the text reads rather bald ; nor is it impro- bable that they were accidentally omitted in the folio, the eye of the tran- scriber or compositor having glanced from the first to the second " thee." (For instances of accidental omissions in the folio, see notes 37, 61, 67, no, .19.) P. 384. (75) " uncape." Hanmer substituted " uncouple.'' P. 385. (76) " What a taking was he in when your husband asked what was in the basket .'" So the folio, except that it has " asked who was in the basket."— B.ere the quartos 1602, 1619, have no corresponding speech of Mrs. Page : but they make Mrs. Ford say, " I wonder what, he thought when my husband bad NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 431 them Bet downs the basket." — " We should read — ' what was in the basket !' for though in fact Ford has asked no such question, he could never suspect there was either man or woman iu it. The propriety of this emendation is manifest from a subsequent passage, where Falstaff teUs Master Brook — ' the jealous knave asked them onee or twice wliat they had in their basket'." RiTSON. — Mr. HalliweU, attempting to reconcile the reading of the folio iu this passage with what precedes, makes Ford exclaim on his entrance, " How now! who goes here? whither biar you this?" — an insertion from quartos 1602, 1619, which have "How now who goes heare? whither goes thisf whi- ther goes it ? set it downe." — Malone is probably right in attributing all this inconsistency to Shakespeare's having neglected to revise fully the text of the enlarged play. P. 385. (77) "that foolish carrion^' The folio has " that foolishion Garion." — Corrected in the second folio. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 386. (78) " societies;'' Walker (Grit. Exam. &c. vol. i. p. 248)" suspects (unnecessarily, I think) that this is an error for " society." P. 389. (79) " a fool and a physician?" "I should read [as Hanmer did] 'a fool or a physician,' meaning Slender and Caius." JoHNSOK. " Dame Quickly may aUude to the proverb, ' a man of forty is either &fool or a, physician ;' but she asserts her master to be both." Fabmeb. The passage is thus glossed by Malone ; " You two are going to throw away your daughter on a fool and a physician ; you, sir, on the former, and you, madam, on the latter." P. 390. (80) "a bitch's blind puppies " The old eds. have " a bUnde bitches Puppies ;" which Mr. HaUiwell retaining, observes that " all kinds of inversion were common in wi-iters of the Shake- sperian period." Here, at least, I cannot think that the " inversion" was our author's : and it was the more likely to be accidental in the case of two words beginning with the same letter. — Mr. Collier, who also retains the original reading, lays stress on its being found in " every old copy ;" as if the old copies did not sometimes agree in the very grossest errors. E. g. " every old copy" of The Tempest (that is, the first, the second, the third, and the fourth folio) in Prospero's direction to Ariel about hanging up the apparel, act iv. sc. 1, has the ridiculous transposition, " Gome, hang on them this line." Mr. Collier further remarks that " Falstaff is not in n, state of mind to study extreme accuracy in his phraseology ;" but if Shakespeare meant to indicate Falstaff's perturbation by making him transpose these words, the audience must have possessed superhuman sagacity " to catch the joke." (In The Two Gentlem,en of Verona, act iv. so. 2, p. 311 of this volume, Launce speaks 432 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [notes. of his dog as "one that I saved from drowning, when three or fowl- of his blind brothers and sisters went to it.") The late Mr. W. W. Williams (TAe Parthenon for Sept. 27, 1862, p. 695) conjectures " a blind batch oi puuppies." P. 390. (8i) "pottle" Mr. Grant White alters this word to " posset." P. 391. (8a) "And how sped you, sir !" So quartos 1602, 1619.— The folio omits " how." P. 391. (83) " Ford's wife's direction," The old eds. have "Fords wiues distraction." — Hanmer substituted "direc- tion" for " distraction ;" of which Mason was not aware when he remarked , " As it does not appear that Palstaff's being conveyed into the buds-basket was owing to the supposed distraction of Mistress Ford, I have no doubt that we should read ' and Ford's wife's direction ;' which was the fact." In act iv. sc. 2, Mrs. Ford says, " I'll first direct my men what they shall do with the basket. " P. 392. (84) " who ashed them once or twice what they had in their basket ;" See note 76. — Steevens's remark, that "Falstaff, in the present instance, may purposely exaggerate his alarms, that he may thereby enhance his merit with Ford, at whose purse Ms designs are ultimately levelled," — ^is nothing less than foolish. P. 392. (85) " with" " With was sometimes used for of. So, a little after, ' I sooner will suspect the sun with cold'." Stbevens. P. 392. (86) "embassy" Here the folio has "ambassie;" to which spelling ("ambassy") Mr.HaUiwell adheres, with a remark that it is "the old form of the word in ed. 1623." But if we ivcra to act i. sc. 1 of King John in ed. 1623, we find " Silence (good mother) heare the Emb.assie. The farthest limit of my Embassie, And once dispatch'd him in an Embassie," &c. (Here the quartos 1602, 1619, have " appointment.") P. 393. (87) "me" The foHo has "one." — The necessary correction was first made in my Eemarks on Mr. Collier's and Mr. Knight's eds. of Shakespeare, p. 16. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) NOTES.] THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 433 P. 393. (88) "let" Mr. CoUier'B Mb. Con-eetor reads "get." P. 394. (89) " Accusativo, hunc." The folio has " hino ;" and, in the next speech, " Hing, hang, hog :" hut I agree with Mr. HaUiweU in thinMng that no such Wnndering was intended here. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.") P. 395. (90) " amd the genders ?" So Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. — The folio has " of the genders." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 396. (91) "his old lunes" The folio has " his olde lines." — (The quartos 1602, 1619, in the con-espond- ing passage have " his old vaine.") P. 396. (92) " Creep into the kiln-hole." In the folio, these words, which obviously belong to Mrs. Page, are made a portion of the preceding speech. (Here the quartos 1602, 1619, do not assist us.) P. 897. (93) " Mrs. Page." The folio has "Mist. Ford." — (The corresponding speech in quartos 1602, 1619, is, "Mi. Pa. Then your vndone, your hut a dead man.") P. 397. (94) " him" Was added in the second folio. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 398. (95) " I had as lief bear" The folio has "/ had liefe as beare." — Corrected in the second folio. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 398. (96) " Set down the basket, villains .' . . . you panderly rascals .'" TTie idiiohae" Set downe the basketvSiame . , . Ohyou Panderly Rascals." —The quartos 16^)2, 1619, have " Set downe the basket you slaue, You panderly rogue set it downe." — Surely, it is plain that the "vUlaine'' of the folio is a mistake for "villaines." P. 398. (97) " Youth in a basket I" Malone printed " You, youth in a basket, come out here !" from the quartos 1602, 1619 ; but those words of the quartos con'espond to the subsequent "Come forth, sirrah" of the folio. — Mr. HaUiwell observes, that " 'Youth in 434 THE MERRY WIVES OP WINDSOR. [notes. A basket' appears to have been a sort of proverbial phrase. It is given as the title of some lines in A Swarm, of Sectaries and Schismatiques, &c. 1641 [by Taylor the water-poet] ." P. 398. (98) " a ging," The folio has " a gin." — Corrected in the second foUo. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 898. (99) " come, come forth .'" " Is addressed to the ' youth in a basket,' and not to Mrs. Ford," says Mr. Knight, — and I once thought he might be right, on account of the " Come forth, sirrah," a little further on. But I now believe that Ford is here ad- dressing his wife. P. 399. (100) "not" Was added in quarto 1630. P. 399. (loi) " youwitch, you hag," Here the foUo has "you Witch, you Ragge," though in the preceding speech of Ford it has "you Witch, you Hagge." — Corrected in quarto 1630. — (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 400. (loz) "her" Bo the quartos 1602, 1619. — The folio has " his." (I notice this, because one editor calls "her" a modem alteration.) P. 400. (103) " the Germans desire" The folio has " the Germane desires'' (Here, in quartos 1602, 1619, they are spoken of as " three gentlemen.") P. 401. (104) "them" The folio has " him." — " Corrected," says Malone, " in the third folio :" but " th£m" is found in quartos 1602, 1619. P. 401. (105) "house" So quartos 1602, 1619.— The folio has "houses." P. 401. (106) "coU" The folio has " gold." (Not in quai-tos 1602, 1619.)— See note 85. P. 401. (107) " You say he has been thrown in the rivers ;" On the Ms. Corrector's alteration, " You see, he has been thrown," &c., Mr. Collier remarks, " The fact is, that the other persons engaged in the scene had said nothing of the kind," &c. But it is evident from what precedes, that the two ladies have just been telling their husbands and Sir Hugh how they had served Falstaff. NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 435 P. 402. (io8) "ragg'd" Capell reads " jagg'd." P. 402. (109) " trees," So Hanmer, and Mr. CoUier's Ms. Corrector. — The folio has " tree," — which the context e-rinoes to he wrong. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 402, (no) " Disguis'd like Heme, with huge horns on his head." Here something is evidently omitted in the foUo ; and to supply, to a certain degree, that omission, the present line is borrowed from the cqrresponding scene of quartos 1602, 1619. P. 402. (in) "Mrs. Ford." The foUo has " Ford." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 402. (112) "pinch him sound," " i. e. soundly. The adjective used as an adverb. The modem editors read ' pinch him round'." Steeveks. P. 403. (113) " Finely attired in a robe of white. Page. Tfiat silk will I go buy : — [aside] and in that tire" The folio has " and in that time." — I adopt Theobald's correction. — Mr. Grant White prints " and in that trim." (Here quartos 1602, 1619, are very different, both in the distribution of the speeches and in the speeches themselves.) P. 404. (114) "My master, sir, Master Slender,'' The foUo has " My master (Sir) my master Slender." (The quartos 1602, 1619, have " Marry sir my maister Slender.") P. 404. (115) " Sim. I may not conceal them, sir. Host. Conceal them, or thou diest." In the folio the first of these speeches is wrongly assigned to " Fal." — The facetious Host amuses himself with Simple's blunder in saying "conceal" in- stead of " reveal." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 405. (116) " Ay, sir ; like who more bold." i. ts. Ay, sir ; like the boldest. — So the folio (and with distinct punctuation, — "ISir: like," &o.). — (The quartos 1602, 1619, have, by a mistake, "I tike, who more iolde ;" and Farmer having suggested that the author wrote "Ay, sir Tike, who more bold!" — that extraordinary reading has been usually adopted. — Mr. Collier has devised a still more extraordinary one, " Ay, sir, tike, who more bold?" which he thus explains, "Falstaff calls Simple, 'sir,' and then corrects himself, in order to give him a derogatory appellation"). — 1863. I now find that m the second edition of his Shakespeare Mr. Collier retains here the old reading, and with the following note ; " This passage has 436 THE MERBY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [notes. caused some speculation, and Mr. Singer makes Falstaff confer a knighthood upon Simple, ' Ay, sir Tike, who more bold ?' " — as if Mr. Singer were the only editor who had adopted Parmer's conjecture, and as if Mr. Collier him- self had not formerly reduced the passage to utter nonsense ! P. 405. (117) "Run away with hy the cozeners:" The "hy" is the addition of Mr. CoUier's Ms. Corrector. — Mr. HaUiweU de- fends the old reading by comparing it with " I am appointed him to murder you," in The Winter's Tale, act i. sc. 2; which he explains to mean "I am appointed iy him to murder you," — the words really meaning "I am appointed the person who is to murder you." P. 406. (118) " but long enough to say my prayers, I would repent." " The words ' to say my prayers' were restored from the early quarto by Mr. Pope. They were probably omitted in the folio on account of the stat. 3 lac. 1. ch. 21." Maionj;. P. 407. (119) " both ;— wherein fat Falstaff Hath a great share :" The fpHo has " both : fat Falstaffe Hath a great Scene." The quartos 1602, 1619, have, in the corresponding passage, " Wherein fat Falstaffe had a mightie scare," — " scare" (which became " scene" in the folio) being evidently a mistake for " share." — The editor of the second folio, to assist the metre, printed " both: fat Sir John Falstaffe." Walker, instead of "wherein," reads "therein" {Crit. Exam. &c. vol. iii. p. 14). P. 407. (120) "Her mother, ever strong" The folio has " euen strong," — a decided misprint; which, however, Steevens tries to defend: " ' even strong,' " he says, "is 'as strong, with a similar degree of strength' " ! (Compare quartos 1602, 1619, " Now her mother still against that match.") P. 407. (121) "denote" The folio has " denote." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 408. (12a) "marrying," " ' Marriage,' I suspect." Walker's Crit. Exam.. &c. vol. iii. p. 15. P. 409. (123) "daughter." This word, which had been accidentally emitted in the fost folio, was sup- plied by the editor of the second folio. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) NOTES.] THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 437 P. 410. (124) " the Welsh devil Hugh f So Capell.— Tlie folio has "-the Welch-deuill Heme ?"— Theotald (and Thirfty) substituted "the Welch devil, Evans;" and so Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector. (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 411. (125). " a bribed buck," Was altered by Theobald to " a hribe-buck" (i. e. a, buck sent as a bribe, or distributed as bribes); and Walker {Grit. Exam. &c. toI. ii. p. 67) approves of that reading. — Capell, who retains " a briVd-buck," explains it (in his Glossary) " a beg'd buck, i. e. beg'd by the keepers : from the French word — briber, to beg." — ^Again, " bribed" has been understood here in the sense of stolen: on which meaning of the word see Tyrwbitt's Gloss, to Chaucer, sub Briben, where he cites, iromRot. Pari. 22 Edw. IV. n. 30, a mention of per- sons who 1' have stolen and bribed signetts [young swans] ;" Way's Prompt. Parv. p. 60 ; and a long note in my ed. of Skelton's Works, ii. 256. — Accord- ing to Mr. Singer, " a bribed buck" ia a buck cut up to be given away in por- tions (from the old French, bribes). P. 411. (126) "Anne." The folio throughout this scene prefixes " Qui." and " Qu." to the speeches of the Fairy Queen: but, though in the quartos 1602, 1619, that part is as- signed to Mrs. Quickly (the same actor having performed both Mrs. Quickly and the Fairy Queen), there can be no doubt that in the enlarged play (how- ever the prefixes " Qui." and " Qu." crept in) it is represented by Anne Page; " To-night at Heme's oak, just 'twixt twelve and one. Must my sweet Nan present the Fairy Queen," &c. p. 407. " Where is Nan now and her troop of fairies?" p. 410. In the quartos 1602, 1619, the stage-direction for the entrance of the fairies is marked thus, "Enter sir Hugh like a Satyre, and boyes drest likeFayries, mistresse Quickly, like the Queene of Fayries : they sing a song about him, and afterward speake." — The folio has merely "Enter Fairies." — That Mrs. Quickly was not intended by the poet to appear among the fairies in the amended play, is, I think, quite certain. (Mr. Collier, after stating that the Ms. Corrector has restored the part of the Fairy Queen to Anne Page, re- marks ; " It does not, indeed, appear that Mi-s. Quickly took any part at all in the scene, although she most likely in some way lent her assistance, in order that she might be on the stage at the conclusion of the performance." But all the dramatis persona are not brought together at the close of the play ; for instance, neither Shallow nor the Host of the Garter are then on the stage; and why should Mrs. Quickly be present?) — The folio in this scene prefixes "Pist."to the speeches of Hobgoblin (or Puck): but we can- not for a moment suppose that Shakespeare meant Pistol to figure here. "It is highly probable (as a modern editor [Capell] has observed), that the per- former who had represented Pistol, was afterwards, from necessity, employed among the fairies ; and that his name thus crept into the copies." Malone. 1863. I now subjoin what is said about the appearance of Mrs. Quickly and Pistol in this scene by Capell (who reasons better than he writes) ; " But how ... if the person who hears her [Mrs. Quickly's] name in the masque, 438 THE MEERY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [notes. bears it wrongfully ; being only the actor who had presented her, brought on in a second part, when his first was over, through his stage's penurious- nees ? yet this is the editor's opinion ; who cannot persuade himself — that a part, the bare repeating of which could with no propriety have been put iuto such a mouth, was intended for it by Shakespeare : and what he says of her he says also of Pistol, whose name occurs likewise : And to this argument from impropriety (incapacity, indeed), which seems strong enough of itself, may be added, — that there is no mention of their concern in the masque where its actors are spoke of by Mrs. Ford at p. 410 ; that their characters break out no where, as does Sir Hugh's ; nor are they speakers, as he is, after the eclarcissement ; aU things to be expected, had they been upon the scene," &c. Notes, &c. vol. ii. P. iii. p. 95. P. 411. (izy) " You orphan heirs'' Warburtou's conjecture, " You oupheu heirs," has been adopted by several editors. P. 412. (128) " Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap: Where fires thoufind'st unrak'd and hearths unswept," So the folio ; and the quartos 1602, 1619, though very different from the folio throughout this scene, have, in a speech assigned to Sic Hugh, " And when you finde a slut that lies a sleepe. And all her dishes foule, and roome vnswept," &c. — Walker reads "unswep," which he considers as an old form of "unswept;'' see his Crit. Exam. &c. vol. Hi. p. 15. — Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector alters the first line, violently and awkwardly, to " Cricket, to Windsor chimneys when thou'at leapt;" and Mr. Singer, stUl more violently and awkwardly, to " Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou, having leapt." P. 412. (129) "Pead?" So quartos 1602, 1619.— The folio has " Bede." (" Bead is the word meant, a most proper name for a being of this size." CapeU's Notes, &c. vol. ii. P. iii. p. 96.) — " It is remarkable that, throughout this metrical business. Sir Hugh appears to drop his Welsh pronunciation, though he resumes it as soon as he speaks in his own character. As Falstaff, however, supposes him to be a Welsh fairy, his peculiarity of utterance must have been preserved on the stage, though it be not distinguished in the printed copies." Steevens. — In the last line of the present speech the folio has " Pinch them," &c. : but afterwards (p. 414) it makes Sir Hugh say, " fairies will notpinse you." P. 412. (130) "Beinup'' So Warburton, — a conjectm-e called "highly plausible" by Steevens, and adopted by. Hanmer, Capell, and Mr. Grant White. — The folio has " Raise vp ;" which Malone very weakly defends. {" Baine" was easUy corrupted into " Raise.")— (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) NOTES.] THE MEREY WIVES OP WINDSOR. 439 P. 412. (131) " In seat as wholesome as in state 'tis fit," The folio has "In state as wholesome," &c. "We ought prohahly to read ' In seat as wholesome,' referring to the healthy situation of the castle." Walker's Grit. Exam. &e. ¥ol. i. p. 284, — ^where the Editor ohserves in a note, " Hanmer, with his usual acuteness, saw this, and in consequence read site, which is an Elizahethan, though not, I think, a Shakespearian word." — Capell, defending the old reading, says ; " ' State' in this [first] member, and ' state' in the next, have different senses ; in the first, 'tis — -condition, in the other — magnificence," &c. Notes, &c. vol. ii. P. ui. p. 97. — (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 412. (13a) "emerald tufts," The folio has " Emrold-trjSea ;" and here Mr. HalKwell retains "tuffs" as being " the old and authentic form." But the foUo has in The Winter's Tale, act ii. so. 1, " the tuft of Pines," and in As you like it, act iii. so. 5, " the tufft of Oliues." And see the various spelling of the word in the quotations given by Dr. Richardson in his Diet, sub " Tuft." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 413. (133) " these fair oaks" So the editor of the second foUo. — The first folio has " these f aire yoakes;" which Theobald and several much more recent editors prefer; and out of which Jackson has made " these fairy jokes," Mr. Grant White " these fairy oaks." — The allusion, of course, is to Falstaff's horns; and Mason ohserves that " the horns of a deer are eaUed in French les bois." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 414. (134) " which must be paid to Master Brook;" " We ought rather to read with the old quarto, ' which must be paid to master Ford ;' for as Ford, to mortify Falstaff, addresses him throughout his speech by the name of Brook, the describing himself by the same name creates a confusion. A modern editor [Capell] plausibly enough reads — ' which must be paid too. Master Brook ;' but the first sketch shows that to is right ; for the sentence, as it stands in the quarto, will not admit too." Malone. — What can Malone mean by stating that here " Ford addresses Falstaff hy the name of Brook" ? P. 414. (135) " a hodge-pudding ?" Altered by Pope to " a hog'B-pudding," and by Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector to "a hog-pudding." P. 415. (136) "ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me ;" Farmer conjectured " a planet o'er me." P. 416. (137) "white," The folio has " greene." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) 440 THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. [notes. P. 416. (138) "green;" The folio has " white." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) P. 416. (139) "greenr The folio has " white ?" (Not in qnartos 1602, 1619.) P. 416. (140) " wile ;" The foUo has "title." — Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector reads " guile." (Not in quartos 1602, 1619.) MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 442 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. FiBST printed in the folio of 1623. — Malone, following Tyrwhitt, obBerres, " from two passages in this play, which seem intended as a courtly apology for the stately and ungracious demeanour of King James I. on his entry into England, it appears probable that it was written not long after his accession to the throne [in 1603] ; " I'll privily away. I love the people. But do not Hke to stage me to their eyes,' &c. Act i. sc. 1. ' and even so The general, subject to a well- wish' d king, Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love Must needs appear offence.' Act ii. sc. 4." Life of Shakespeare, p. 383. With respect to a later passage, in act ii. sc. 4, — " As these black masks Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder Than beauty could, display'd," — it most certainly does not, as Tyrwhitt once thought, " afford ground for supposing that the play was written to be acted at court ;" a notion which that acute critic afterwards repudiated, acknowledging that he had mistaken the meaning of "these black masks." (See note ad I.) According to Mr. Collier, this play " was written either at the close of 1603, or in the begin- ning of 1604." Introd. to Measure for Measure. — Shakespeare derived the plot from a drama in Two Parts, The right excellent and famous Historye of Promos and Cassandra, &c., 1578, by George Whetstone, who has prefixed to it the following " Argument :" " In the cyttie of Julio (sometimes vnder the dominion of Coruinus Einge of Hungarie and Boemia) there was a law, that what man so euer committed adultery should lose his head, and the woman offender should weare some disguised apparel during her life, to make her infamouslye noted. This senere lawe, by the fauour of some mercifull magistrate, became little regarded vntill the time of Lord Promos auctority ; who, oonuicting a yong gentleman named Andrugio of incontinency, con- demned both him and his minion to the execution of this statute. Andrugio had a very vertuous and beawtiful gentlewoman to his sister, named Cas- sandi-a : Cassandra, to enlarge her brothers life, submitted an humble peti- tion to the Lord Promos : Promos regarding her good behauiours, and fan- tasying her great beawtie, was much delighted with the sweete order of her taUce ; and, doying good that euiU might come thereof, for a time he repi7u'd her brother ; but, wicked man, tourning his liking vnto vnlawfuU lust, he set downe the spoile of her honour raunsome for her brothers life. ■ Chaste Cassandra, abhoning both him and his sute, by no perswasion would yeald MEASURE FOE MEASURE. 443 to this raunBome : but in fine, wonue with the importunitye of hir brother • (pleading for life), vpon these conditions she agreede to Promos ; first that he should pardon her brother, and after marry her. Promos, as feareles in promisse as oarelesse in performance, with solLemne Towe sygned her con- ditions : but worse then any infydel, his will satisfyed, he performed neither the one nor the other ; for, to keepe his aucthoritye vnspotted with fauour, and to preuent Cassandraes clamors, he commaunded the gayler secretly to present Cassandra with her brothers head. The gayler, with the outcryes of Andrugio [sic] , abhorryng Promos lewdenes, by the prouidence of God pro- uided thus for his safety. He presented Cassandra with a felons head newlie executed, who (being mangled, knew it not from her brothers, by the gayler who was set at libertie) was so agreeued at this trecherye, that, at the pointe to kyl her selfe, she spared that stroke to be auenged of Promos ; and deuis- yng a way, she concluded to make her fortunes knowne vnto the kinge. She (execntinge this resolution) was so highly fauoured of the king, that forth- with he hasted to do justice on Promos : whose judgement was, to marrye Cassandra to repaire her erased honour ; which donne, for his hainous of- fence he should lose his head. This maryage solempnised, Cassandi'a, tyed in the greatest bondes of affection to her husband, became an earnest suter for his life : the kinge (tendringe the generaU benefit of the common weale before her special ease, although he fauoured her much) would not graunt her sute. Andrugio (disguised amonge the company) sorrowing the griefe of his sister, bewrayde his safetye, and craued pardon. The kinge, to re- nowne the vertues of Cassandra, pardoned both him and Promos. The cir- cumstances of this rare histoiye in action lyuelye foloweth." In the same author's Heptameron of Civil Discourses, 1582, is also a prose narrative called " The rare historie of Promos and Cassandra." — Whetstone borrowed his materials, both for the play and for the prose tale, from the Hecatommithi of Cinthio, — Parte Seconda, Deca Tiii., Novella 5; "Jwiste S mandato da Mas- simiano Im/peradore in Ispruchi, ovefa prendere un giovane violatore di una vergine, e condamnalo a morte ; la sorella cerca di liberarlo : Juriste da speranza alia donna di pigliarla per moglie, e di darle libera ilfratello: ella con lui si giace, e la notte istessa Juriste fa tagliar al giovane la testa, e la manda alia sorella. Ella ne fa querela all' Imperadore, il quale fa sposare ad Juriste la donna ; poscia lo fa dare ad essere ucciso : la donna lo libera, e con lui si vive amorevolissimamente." (Whetstone's drama is reprinted by Steevens among Six Old Plays on which Shakespeare founded, &c., 1779 ; and his prose tale by Mr. Collier in Shakespeare's Library, vol. ii.) DRAMATIS PERSONS. ViNCENTio, duke of Vienna. Angelo, the deputy in the Duke's absence. EsoALUS, joined with Angelo in the government. Claumo. Lucio. Two other Gentlemen. Provost. Thomas, l . . J. fnars. Peiee, ) A Justice. Vaekius. Elbow, a constable. Fboth. PoMPET, servant to Mistress Overdone. Abhokson, an executioner. Baenabdine, a prisoner. Isabella, sister to Claudio. Mariana, betrothed to Angelo. Juliet, beloved of Claudio. Feancisoa, a nun. MiSTEESs OvEKDONB, a bawd. Lords, Officers, Citizens, Boy, and Attendants. Scene — Vienna. MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. ACT I. Scene I. An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Esoalus, and Attendants. Duke. Escalus, — Escal. My lord? Duke. Of government the properties t' unfold, Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse ; Since I am put to know that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you : then no more remains But that to your sufSciency, as your worth is ahle. And let them work/^' The nature of our people. Our city's institutions, and the terms For common justice, you're as pregnant in As art and practice hath enriched any That we remember. There is our commission, [Giving it. From which we would not have you warp. — Call hither, I say, bid come before us Angelo. [Exit an Attendant. What figure of us think you he will bear ? For you must know, we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply ; Lent him our terror, dress'd him with our love. And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power : what think you of it ?® Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth To undergo such ample grace and honour. It is Lord Angelo. Duke. Look where he comes. VOL. I. GG 446 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [aoi i. Enter Angelo. Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure. Buke. Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life. That to th' observer doth thy history FuUy unfold. Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they® on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do. Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues ; nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor. Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advertise ; Hold, therefore, Angelo :— {Tendering his commission.'-'^'' In our remove be thou at full ourself ; Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart : old Escalus, Though first in question, is thy secondary : — Take thy commission. [Giving it. Ang. Now, good my lord. Let there be some more test made of my metal, Before so noble and so great a figure Be stamp'd upon 't. Duke. No more evasion : we Have with a leaven'd and prepared choice Proceeded to you ; therefore take your honours. Our haste from hence is of so quick condition, That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd Matters of needful value. We shall write to you, As time and our concernings shall importune. How it goes with us ; and do look to know What doth befall you here. So, fare you well : To th' hopeful execution do I leave you SCENE II.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. U7 Of your commissions.® Ang. Yet, give leave, my lord. That we may bring you something on the way. Duke. My haste may not admit it ; Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do With any scruple : your scope is as mine own. So to enforce or qualify the laws As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand : I'll privily away. I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes : Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement ; Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does affect it. Once more, fare you well. Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes ! — Escal. Lead forth and bring you back in happiness ! Duke. I thank you. Fare you well. \Exit. Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave To have free speech with you ; and it concerns me To look into the bottom of my place : A power I have, but of what strength and nature I am not yet instructed. Ang. 'Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together. And we may soon our satisfaction have Touching that point. Escal. I'll wait upon your honour. [Exeunt. Scene II. A street. Enter Lucio and two Gentlemen. Lucio. If the duke-, with the other dukes, come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why, then, all the dukes fall upon the king. First Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's ! Sec. Gent. Amen. Lucio. Thou conoludest like the sanctimonious pirate that went to sea with the Ten Commandments, but scraped one out of the table. us MEASURE FOB MEASURE. [act i. Sec. Gent. " Thou shalt not steal" ? iMcio. Ay, that he razed. First Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions : they put forth to steal. There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanks- giving before*' meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace. Sec Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee ; for I think thou never wast where grace was said. Sec. Gent. No ? a dozen times at least. First Gent. What, in metre ? Lucio. In any proportion or in any language. First Gent. I think, or in any religion. Lucio. Ay, why not ? Grace is grace, despite of all con- troversy : as, for example, — thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. First Gent. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us. Lucio. I grant ; as there may between the list'^' and the velvet. Thou art the list. First Gent. And thou the velvet : thou art good velvet ; thou'rt a three-piled piece, I warrant thee : I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be piled, as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now ? Lucio. I think thou dost ; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech, I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health ; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee. First Gent. I think I have done myself wrong, have I not? Sec. Gent. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free. Lucio. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes ! First Gent. I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to — ® Sec. Gent. To what, I pray ? First Gent.'-^^ Judge. Sec. Gent. To three thousand dolours a year. First Gent. Ay, and more. Lucio. A French crown more. SCENE II.] MEA8UEE FOR MEASURE. 449 First Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases in me ; but thou art full of error, — I am sound. Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy ; but so sound as things that are hollow : thy bones are hollow ; impiety has made a feast of thee. Unter Mistebss Oveedone. First Gent. How now ! which of your hips has the most profound sciatica ? Mrs. Ov. Well, well ; there's one yonder arrested and car- ried to prison was worth five thousand of you all. Sec. Gent. Who's that, I pray thee ? Mrs. Ov. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio. First Gent. Claudio to prison ! 'tis not so. Mrs. Ov. Nay, but I know 'tis so : I saw him arrested ; saw him carried away ; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off.'"' Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. A.rt thou sure of this ? Mrs. Ov. I am too sure of it : and it is for getting Madam Julietta with child. Liucio. Believe me, this may be : he promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping. Sec. Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. First Gent. But, most of all, agreeing with the procla- mation. Lucio. Away ! let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. Mrs. Ov. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom- shrunk. Enter Pompet. How now ! what's the news with you ? Pom. Yonder man is carried to prison. Mrs. Ov. Well ; what has he done ? Pom. A woman. Mrs. Ov. But what's his offence ? Pom. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Mrs. Ov. What, is there a maid with child by him ? 450 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [act i. Pom. No, but there's a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you ? Mrs. Ov. What proclamation, man ? Pom. All houses'^" in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down. Mrs. Ov. And what shall become of those in the city ? Pom. They shall. stand for seed ; they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. Mrs. Ov. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pulled down ? Pom. To the ground, mistress. Mrs. Ov. Why, here's a change indeed in the common- wealth ! What shall become of me ? Pom. Come; fear not you: good counsellors lack no cli- ents: though you change your place, you need not change your trade; I'll be your tapster still. Courage! there wiU be pity taken on you : you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered. Mrs. Ov. What's to do here, Thomas Tapster ? let's with- draw. Pom. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison ; and there's Madam Juliet. [Exeunt. Enter Provost, Claudio, Julibt,^'^' and Officers. Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world? Bear me to prison, where I am committed. Prov. I do it not in evil disposition, But from Lord Angelo by special charge. Claud. Thus can the demigod Authority Make us pay down for our offence'^" by weight. — The sword of heaven,*"' — on whom it will, it will ; On whom it will not, so ; yet 'tis just still.'^*' Re-enter Lucio and two Gentlemen.'i^' Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio ! whence comes this re- straint ? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty : As surfeit is the father of much fast. So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, SCENE II. J MEASUEE FOE MEASUEE. 451 Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, A thirsty evil ; and when we drink we die. Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors : and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom as the morality^^'' of imprisonment. — What's thy oiFence, Claudio ? Claud. What but to speak of would offend again. Lucio. What, is't murder ? Claud. No. Lucio. Lechery? Claud. Call it so. Prov. Away, sir ! you must go. Claud. One word, good friend. — Lucio, a word with you. [Takes him aside, Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good. — Is lechery so look'd after ? Claud. Thus stands it with me : — upon a true contract I got possession of Julietta's bed : You know the lady ; she is fast my wife, Save that we do the denunciation lack Of outward order : this we came not to. Only for propagation of a dower'"^*' Eemaining in the coffer of her friends ; From whom we thought it meet to hide our love Till time had made them for us. But it chances The stealth of our most mutual entertainment With character too gross is writ on Juliet. Lucio. With child, perhaps ? Claud. Unhappily, even so. And the new deputy now for the duke, — Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness. Or whether that the body public be A horse whereon the governor doth ride. Who, newly in the seat, that it may know He can command, lets it straight feel the spur ; Whether the tyranny be in his place. Or in his eminence that fills it up, I stagger in : — but this new governor Awakes me all th' enrolled penalties Which have, like unscour'd armour, hung by the wall 452 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [act i. So long, that nineteen zodiacs have gone round, And none of them been worn ; and, for a name, Now puts the drowsy and neglected act Freshly on me : — 'tis surely for a name. Lucio. I warrant it is : and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him. Claud. I have done so, but he's not to be found. I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service : — This day my sister should the cloister enter, . And there receive her approbation : Acquaint her with the danger of my state ; Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends To the strict deputy ; bid herself assay him : I have great hope in that ; for in her youth'^^' There is a prone and speechless dialect. Such as moves men ; beside, she hath prosperous art When she will play with reason and discourse, And well she can persuade. Lucio. I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who'^"' I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to her. Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. Lucio. Within two hours — Claud. Come, officer, away ! [Exeunt. Scene III. A inonastery. Enter Duke aiid Friae Thomas. Duke. No, holy father; throw away that thought; Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends Of burning youth. Fri. T. May your grace speak of it ? Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you SCENE III.] MEASUBE FOR MEASURE. 453 How I liave ever lov'd the life remov'd ; And held in idle price to haunt assemhlies, Where youth, and cost, and*^" witless bravery keep. I have deliver'd to Lord Angelo — A man of stricture and firm abstinence — My absolute power and place here in Vienna, And he supposes me travell'd to Poland ; For so I've strew'd it in the common eat, And so it is receiv'd. Now, pious sir. You will demand of me why I do this ? Fri. T. Gladly, my lord. Duke. We have strict statutes and most biting laws, — The needful bits and curbs to headstrong steeds, — Which for this fourteen years we have let sleep ;'^^' Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave. That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers, Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch. Only to stick it in their children's sight For terror, not to use, in time the rod Becomes more mock'd than fear'd ;'^* so our decrees. Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead ; And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum. Fri. T. It rested in your grace ■ T' unloose this tied-up justice when you pleas'd : And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd Than in Lord Angelo. Duke. I do fear, too dreadful : Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, 'Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them For what I bid them do : for we bid this be done,'^*' When evil deeds have their permissive pass. And not their punishment.'^'* Therefore, indeed, my father, I have on Angelo impos'd the office ; Who may, in th' ambush of my name, strike home. And yet my nature never in the sight. To do it slander.'^^' And to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Visit both prince and people : therefore, I prithee. 454 MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. [act i. Supply me with the hahit, and instruct me How I may formally in person bear me'^^' Like a true friar. More reasons for this action At our more leisure shall I render you ; Only, this one : — Lord Angelo is precise ; Stands at a guard with envy ; scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone : hence shall we see. If power change purpose, what our seemers be. [Exeunt. Scene IV. A nunnery. Enter Isabella and Fkancisca. Isab. And have you nuns no further privileges ? Fran. Are not these large enough ? Isab. Yes, truly : I speak not as desiring more ; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, votarists'^® of Saint Clare. Lucio. l_within'] Ho ! Peace be in this place ! Isab. Who's that which calls ? Fran. It is a man's voice. Gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him ; You may, I may not ; you are yet unsworn. When you have vow'd, you must not speak with men But in the presence of the prioress : Then, if you speak, you must not show your face ; Or, if you show your face, you must not speak. He calls again ; I pray you, answer him. [Exit. Isab. Peace and prosperity ! Who is't that calls ? Miter Lunio. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be, — as those cheek-roses Proclaim you are no less ! Can you so stead me As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A novice of this place, and the fair sister To her unhappy brother Claudio ? Isab. Why " her unhappy brother" ? let me ask ; The rather, for I now must make you know SCENE IV.] MEA8UBE FOR MEASURE. 45.5 I am that Isabella and his sister. Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you : Not to be weary with you, he's in prison. Isab. Woe me ! for what ? Lucio. For that which, if myself might be his judge, He should receive his punishment in thanks : He hath got his friend with child. Isab. Sir, make me not your scorn. '^^' Lucio. 'Tis true. I would not — though 'tis my familiar sin With maids to seem the lapwing, and to jest. Tongue far from heart — play with all Tirgins so : I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted ; By your renouncement, an immortal spirit ; And to be talk'd with in sincerity. As with a saint. Isah. You do blaspheme the good in mocking me. Lucio. Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, 'tis thus : — Your brother and his lover have embrac'd : As those that feed grow full ; as blossoming-time, That from the seedness the bare fallow brings'"" To teeming foison ; even so her plenteous womb Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry. Isab. Some one with child by him ? — My cousin Juliet ? Lucio. Is she your cousin ? Isab. Adoptedly ; as school-maids change their names By vain, though apt, affection. Lucio. She it is. Isab. 0, let him marry her. Lucio. This is the point. The duke is'^^' very strangely gone from hence ; Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, In hand, and hope of action : but we do learn By those that know the very nerves of state, His givings-out'^^' were of an infinite distance From his true-meant design. Upon his place, And with fuU line of his authority, Governs Lord Angelo ; a man whose blood Is very snow-broth ; one who never feels The wanton stings and motions of the sense. 456 MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. [act i. But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge With profits of the mind, study and fast. He — to giye fear to use and liberty, Which have for long run by the hideous law, As mice by lions — hath pick'd out an act. Under whose heavy sense your brother's life Falls into forfeit : he arrests him on it ; And follows close the rigour of the statute, To make him an example. All hope's gone. Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer To soften Angelo : and that's my pith Of business 'twixt you and your poor brother. Isab. Doth he so seek his life ? Lucio. 'Has censur'd him Already ; and, as I hear, the provost hath A warrant for his execution. Isab. Alas, what poor ability's in me To do him good ! Lucio. Assay the power you have. Isab. My power ! Alas, I doubt, — Lucio. Our doubts are traitors. And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo, And let him learn to know, when maidens sue. Men give like gods ; but when they weep and kneel. All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would owe them. Isab. I'll see what I can do. Lucio. But speedily. Isab. I will about it straight ; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : Commend me to my brother : soon at night I'lljsend him certain word of my success. Lucio. I take my leave of you. Isab. Good sir, adieu. \_Exeunt. SCENE I.] MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 457 ACT 11. Scene I. A hall in Angelo's house. Enter Angelo, Escalus, and a Justice; Provost, Officers, wid others attending. Ang. We must not make a scarecrow of the law. Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror. Escal. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little. Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas, this gentleman. Whom I would save, had a most noble father ! Let but your honour know, — Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue, — That, in the working of your own affections. Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing. Or that the resolute acting of your'*® blood Could have attain'd th' effect of your own purpose. Whether yon had not sometime in your life Err'd in this point which now you censure him,''*' And puU'd the law upon you. Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall. I not deny. The jury, passing on the prisoner's life. May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try. What's open made To justice, that justice seizes : what knows the law'^^' That thieves do pass on thieves ? 'Tis very pregnant. The jewel that we find, we stoop and take't, Because we see't ; but what we do not see We tread upon, and never think of it. You may not so extenuate his offence For I have had such faults ; but rather tell me. When I, that censure him, do so offend. Let mine own judgment pattern out my (Jeath, And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die. Escal. Be't as your wisdom will. 458 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act ii. Ang. Where is the provost ? Prov. [coming from behind] Here, if it like your honour. Ang. See that Claudio Be executed by nine to-morrow morning : Bring him his confessor, let him be prepar'd ; For that's the utmost of his pilgrimage. [_Exit Provost. Escal. [aside] Well, heaven forgive him ! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall ; Some run from brakes of vioe,''^' and answer none ; And some condemned for a fault alone. Enter Elbow, and Officers with Feoth and Pompby. Elh. Come, bring them away : if these be good people in a commonweal that do nothing but use their abuses in com- mon houses, I know no law : bring them away. Ang. How now, sir ! What's your name ? and what's the matter ? Elh. If it please your honour, I am the poor duke's eon- stable, and my name is Elbow : I do lean upon justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good honour two notorious benefactors. Ang. Benefactors! Well; what benefactors are they? are they not malefactors ? Elh. If it please your honour, I know not well what they are : but precise villains they are, that I am sure of; and void of all profanation in the world that good Christians ought to have. Escal. This comes off well ; here's a wise (jfi&cer. Ang. Gro to : — what quality are they of? Elbow is your name ? why dost thou not speak, Elbow ? Pom. He cannot, sir ; he's out at elbow. Ang. What are you, sir ? Elh. He, sir ! a tapster, sir ; parcel-bawd ; one that serves a bad woman ; whose house, sir, was, as they say, plucked down in the suburbs ; and now she professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too. Escal. How know you that ? Elh. My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and your honour, — SOENM I.] MEASURE FOE MEASUBE. 459 Escal. How ! thy wife ! Elb. Ay, sir ; — whom, I thank heaven, is an honest woman, — Escal. Dost thou detest her therefore ? Elb. I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as she, that this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty house. Escal. How dost thou know that, constable ? Elb. Marry, sir, by my wife ; who, if she had been a woman cardinally given, might have been accused in forni- cation, adultery, and all uncleanliness there. Escal. By the woman's means ? Elb. Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdone's means : but as she spit in his face, so she defied him. Pom. Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so. Elb. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man ; prove it. Escal. [to Angeld] Do you hear how he misplaces ? Pom. Sir, she came in great with child ; and longing — saving your honour's reverence — for stewed prunes, sir ; — -we had but two in the house, which at that very distant'^'' time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three-pence ; — your honours have seen such dishes ; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes, — Escal. Go to, go to : no matter for the dish, sir. Pom. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin ; you are therein in the right : — but to the point. As I say, this Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great-beUied, and long- ing, as I said, for prunes ; and having but two in the dish, as I said. Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly ; — for, as you know. Master Froth, I could not give you three- pence again, — Froth. No, indeed. Pom. Very well; — you being then, if you be remembered, cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes, — Froth. Ay, so I did indeed. Pom. Why, very well ; — I telling you then, if you be re- membered, that such a one and such a one were past cure of 460 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act n. the thing you wot of, unless they kept very good diet, as I told you, — Froth. All this is true. Pom. Why, very v?ell, then, — Escal. Come, you are a tedious fool : to the purpose. What was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to com- plain of? Come me to what was done to her.'^' Pom. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet. Escal. No, sir, nor I mean it not. Pom. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave. And, I beseech you, look into Master Froth here, sir ; a man of fourscore pound a year ; whose father died at HaUowmas : — was't not at Hallowmas, Master Froth ? — Froth. AU-hallownd eve. Pom. Why, very well ; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir ; — 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight to sit, have you not ?— Froth. I have so ; because it is an open room, and good for winter."" Pom. Why, very well, then ; I hope here be truths. Aug. This will last out a night in Kussia, When nights are longest there : I'll take my leave. And leave you to the hearing of the cause ; Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all. Escal. I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship. [Exit Angela. Now, sir, come on : what was done to Elbow's wife, once more? Pom. Once, sir ! there was nothing done to her once. Elh. I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife. Pom. I beseech| your honour, ask me. Escal. Well, sir ; what did this gentleman to her ? Pom. I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's face. — Good Master Froth, look upon his honour ; 'tis for a good purpose. — Doth your honour mark ms face ? Escal. Ay, sir, very well. Pom. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well. SCENE I.] MEASURE FOB MEASUKE. 461 Escal. Well, I do so. Pom. Doth your honour see any harm in his face ? ■• Escal. Why, no. Pom. I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him. Good, then ; if his face be the worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do the constable's wife any harm ? I would know that of your honour. Escal. He's in the right. — Constable, what say you to it? EU). First, an it like you, the house is a respected house ; next, this is a respected fellow ; and his mistress is a respected woman. Pom. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected per- son than any of us all. Elb. Varlet, thou liest ; thou liest, wicked varlet ! the time is yet to come, that she was ever respected with man, woman, or child. Pom. Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her. Escal. Which is the wiser here ? Justice or Iniquity ? — Is this true ? Elb._ thou caitiff! thou varlet ! thou wicked Han- nibal ! I respected with her before I was married to her ! — If ever I was respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship think me the poor duke's ofBcer. — Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee. Escal. If he took you a box o' th' ear, you might have your action of slander too. Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it. What is't your worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff? Escal. Truly, ofi&cer, because he hath some offences in him that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him con- tinue in his courses till thou knowest what they are. Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it. — Thou seest, thou wicked varlet, now, what's come upon thee : thou art to continue now, thou varlet ; thou art to continue. Escal. [to Froth] Where were you born, friend ? Froth. Here in Vienna, sir. Escal. Are you of fourscore pounds a year ? Froth. Yes, an't please you, sir. VOL. I. HH 462 MEASUBE FOR MEASURE. [act ii. Eseal. So. — [To Pompey] What trade are you of, sir ? Pom. A tapster ; a poor widow's tapster. Escal. Your mistress' name ? Pom. Mistress Overdone. Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband ? Pom. Nine, sir ; Overdone by the last. Escal. Nine ! — Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters : they will draw you. Master Fjroth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more of you. Froth. I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never come into any room in a taphouse, but I am drawn in. Escal. Well, no more of it. Master Froth : farewell. [Exit Froth.'] Come you hither to me, master tapster. What's your name, master tapster ? Pom. Pompey. Escal. What else ? Pom. Bum, sir. Escal. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you ; so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a tapster. Are you not? come, tell me true : it shall be the better for you. Pom. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. Escal. How would you live, Pompey ? by being a bawd ? What do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade? Pom. If the law would allow it, sir. Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna. Pom. Does your worship mean to geld and splay aU the youth of the city ? Escal. No, Pompey. Pom. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't, then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds. Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you : it is but heading and hanging. Pom. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads : if this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent SCENE I.] MEA8UEE FOR MEASURE. 463 the fairest house in it after three-pence a bay :**™ if you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so. Escal. Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your prophecy, hark you : — I advise you, let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever ; no, not for dwelling where you do : if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Caesar to you ; in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt : so, for this time, Pompey, fare you well. Pom. I thank your worship for your good counsel. — [Aside] But I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me ! No, no ; let carman whip his jade : The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade. lExit. Escal. Come hither to me. Master Elbow ; come hither, master constable. How long have you been in this place of constable ? Elb. Seven year and a half, sir. Escal. I thought, by your readiness'*^' in the office, you had continued in it some time. You say, seven years together ? Elb. And a half, sir. Escal. Alas, it hath been great pains to you ! They do you wrong to put you so oft upon't : are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it ? Elb. Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters : as they are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them ; I do it for some piece of money, and go through with all. Escal. Look you bring me in the names of some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish. Elb. To your worship's house, sir ? Escal. To my house. Fare you well. [JExit Elbow.] What's o'clock, think you ? Just. Eleven, sir. Escal. I pray you home to dinner with me. Just. I humbly thank you. Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio ; But there's no remedy. Just. Lord Angelo is severe. Escal. It is but needful : Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so ; 464 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act ii. Pardon is still the nurse of second woe : But yet, — poor Claudio ! — There's no remedy. — Come, sir. [Exeunt. Scene II. Another room in the same. Enter Provost and a Servant. Serv. He's hearing of a cause ; he will come straight : I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you, do. [Exit Servant^ I'll know His pleasure ; may be he'll relent. Alas, He hath but as offended in a dream !'*^' 4-U sects,^*^' all ages smack of this vice ; and he To die for it ! Enter Augblo. Ang. Now, what's the matter, provost ? Prov. Is it your wiU Claudio shall die to-morrow ? Ang. Did not I tell thee yea ? hadst thou not order ? Why dost thou ask again ? Prov. Lest I might be too rash : Under your good correction, I have seen. When, after execution, judgment hath Bepented o'er his doom. Ang. Go to ; let that be mine : Do you your ofice, or give up your place, And you shall well be spar'd. Prov. I crave your honour's pardon. — • What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet ? She's very near her hour. Ang. Dispose of her To some more fitter place ; and that with speed. Re-enter Servant. Serv. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd Desires access to you. Ang. Hath he a sister ? Prov. Ay, my good lord ; a very virtuous maid. And to be shortly of a sisterhood, If not already. SCENE 11.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 465 Ang. Well, let her be admitted. [Exit Sewant. See you the fornicatress be remov'd : Let her have needful, but not lavish, means ; There shall be order for it. Enter Isabella and Lucio. Prov. Save your honour ! [Offering to retire. Ang. Stay a little while. — [To Isab.^ You're welcome : what's your will ? Isab. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me. Ang. Well; what's your suit? Isab. There is a vice that most I do abhor. And most desire should meet the blow of justice ; For which I would not plead, but that I must ; For which I must not plead, but that I am At war 'twixt will and will not. Ang. Well; the matter? Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die : I do beseech you, let it be his fault. And not my brother. Prov. [asidej Heaven give thee moving graces l'"*** 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 function, To fine the fault,*^^' whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor. Isab. just but severe law ! I had a brother, then. — Heaven keep your honour ! [Retiring. Lucio. [aside to Isab.] Give't not o'er so : to him again, entreat him ; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown : You are too cold ; if you should need a pin. You could not with more tame a tongue desire it : To him, I say. Isab. Must he needs die ? Ang. Maiden, no remedy. Isah. Yes ; I do think that you might pardon him. And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy. 466 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act ii. Ang. I will not do't. Isah. But can you, if you would ? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Isab. But you might do't,**^' and do the world no wrong, If so your heart were touch'd with that remojse As mine is to him. Ang. He's sentenc'd ; 'tis too late. Lucio. [aside to Isah.] You are too cold. Isab. Too late ! why, no ; I, that do speak a word, May call it back'*" again. "Well, believe this, No ceremony that to great ones longs, Not the king's crown nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does. If he had been as you, and you as he. You would have slipp'd like him ; but he, like you. Would not have been so stern. Ang. Pray you, be gone. Isab. I would to heaven I had your potency, And you were Isabel ! should it then be thus ? No ; I would teU what 'twere to be a judge, And what a prisoner. Lucio. [aside to Isah.] Ay, touch him ; there's the vein. Ang. Your brother is a forfeit of the law. And you but waste your words. Isab. Alas, alas! Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once ; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be. If He, which is the top of judgment, ***' should But judge you as you are ? 0, think on that ; And mercy then will breathe within your lips. Like man new-made. Ang. Be you content, fair maid ; It is the law, not I, condemns*^" your brother : Were he my kinsman, brother, or my son. It should be thus with him : — he must die to-morrow. Isab. To-morrow ! 0, that's sudden ! Spare him, spare him ! — - SCENE 11.] MEASURE FOE MEASURE. 467 He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens We kill the fowl of season : shall we serve heaven With less respect than we do minister To our gross selves ? Good, good my lord, bethink you ; Who is it that hath died for this oifence ? There's many have committed it. Ltocio. [aside to Isab.] Ay, well said. Ang. The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept : Those many had not dar'd to do that evil. If that the first that did th' edict infringe'^"' Had answer'd for his deed : now 'tis awake. Takes note of what is done ; and, like a prophet. Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils,- — Either new, or by remissness new-conceiv'd. And so in progress to be hatch'd and born, — Are now to have no successive degrees. But, ere they live, to end.*^" Isab. Yet show some pity. Ang. I show it most of all when I show justice ; For then I pity those I do not know. Which a dismiss'd offence would after gall ; And do him right that, answering one foul wrong. Lives not to act another. Be satisfied ; Your brother dies to-morrow ; be content. Isab. So you, must be the first that gives this sentence, And he that suffers. 0, it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous''^' To use it like a giant. Lucio. [aside to Isab.] That's well said. Isab. Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder ; nothing but thunder. — Merciful Heaven ! Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle : but man,'^" proud man, Brest in a little brief authority, — Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence, — like an angry ape, 468 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [act n. Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep ; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. Lucio. [aside to Isab.^ 0, to him, to him, wench ! he will relent ; He's coming; I perceive't. P7-0V. [aside] Pray heaven she win him ! Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself :'^ Great men may jest with saints ; 'tis wit in them. But in the less foul profanation. Lucio. [aside to Isab.] Thou'rt i' the right, ^rl ; more o' that. Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric word, Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. Lucio. [aside to Isab.] Art avis'd o' that ? more on't. Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me ? Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself. That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom ; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault : if it confess A natural guiltiness such as is his. Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life. Ang. [aside] She speaks, and 'tis Such sense, that my sense breeds with't. — Fare you well. Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back. Ang. I will bethink me : come again to-morrow. Isab. Hark how I'll bribe you : good my lord, turn back. Ang. How ! bribe me ! Isab. Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you. Lucio. [aside to Isab.] You had marr'd all else. Isab. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold. Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor As fancy values them ; but with true prayers. That shall be up at heaven and enter there Ere sun-rise, — prayers from preserved souls. From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal. Ang. Well ; come to me to-morrow. SCENE II.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 469 iMcio. [aside to Isab.] Go to ; 'tis well ; away ! Isab. Heaven keep your honour safe ! Ang. [aside] Amen ; for I Am that way going to temptation, Where prayers cross. Isab. . At what hour to-morrow Shall I attend your lordship ? Ang. At any time 'fore noon. Isab. Save your honour !'^^' [Exeunt Isabella, Imcio, and Provost. Ang. Prom thee, — even from thy virtue ! — What's this, what's this ? Is this her fault or mine ? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most, ha ? Not she ; nor doth she tempt : but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower. Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness ? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary. And pitch our evils'*^' there ? 0, fie, fie, fie ! What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo ? Dost thou desire her foully for those things That make her good ? 0, let her brother live : Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her, That I desire to hear her speak again. And feast upon her eyes ? What is't I dream on ? cunning enemj', that, to catch a saint, With saints dost bait thy hook ! Most dangerous Is that temptation that doth goad us on To sin in loving virtue : ne'er could the strumpet. With all her double vigour, art and nature. Once stir my temper ; but this virtuous maid Subdues me quite : — ever till now. When men were fond, I smil'd, and wonder'd how.*''' [Exit. 470 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act ii. Scene III. A room in a 'prison. Enter, severally, Duke disguised as a friar, and Provost. Duke. Hail to you, provost ! — so I think you are. Prov. I am the provost. What's your will, ^ood friar ? Duke. Bound by my charity and my bless'd order, I come to visit the afflicted spirits Here in the prison. Do me the common right To let me see them, and to make me know The nature of their crimes, that I may minister To them accordingly. Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful. Look, here comes one, — a gentlewoman of mine, Who, falling in the flames'^*' of her own youth. Hath blister'd her report : she is with child ; And he that got it, sentenc'd, — a young man More fit to do another such offence Than die for this. Enter Juliet. Duke. When must he die ? Prov. As I do think, to-morrow. — I have provided for you : stay awhile, \To Juliet. And you shall be conducted. Duke. Eepent you, fair one, of the sin you carry ? Jul. I do ,■ and bear the shame most patiently. Duke. I'll teach you how you shall arraign your con- science, And try your penitence, if it be sound. Or hollowly put on. Jul. I'll gladly learn. Duke. Love you the man that wrong'd you ? Jul. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd him. Duke. So, then, it seems your most offenceful act Was mutually committed ? Jul. Mutually. Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind than his. Jul. I do confess it, and repent it, father. Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter : but lest you do repent. SCENE IT.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 471 As that the sin hath brought you to this shame, — Which sorrow is always toward ourselves, not heaven, ♦ Showing we would not spare heaven'^* as we love it, But as we stand in fear, — Jul. I do repent me, as it is an evil. And take the shame with joy. Duke. There rest. Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow, And I am going with instruction to_ him. Jul. Grace go with you ! Duhe. Benedicite .'""" [Exit. Jul. Must die to-morrow ! injurious love,*^' That respites me a life, whose very comfort Is still a dying horror ! Prov. "lis pity of him. [Exeunt. Scene IV. A room in Angelo's house. Enter Angelo. Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and pray To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words ; Whilst my intention,**^' hearing not my tongue. Anchors on Isabel : Heaven in my mouth,** As if I did but only chew his name ; And in my heart the strong and swelling evil Of my conception. The state, whereon I studied. Is like a good thing, being often read. Grown sear'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. place, form How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls To thy false seeming ! Blood, thou still art blood :*^^' Let's write good angel on the devil's horn, 'Tis not the devil's crest. 472 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [aci ii. Enter Servant. How now ! who's there ! Serv. One Isabel, a sister, Desires access to you. Ang. Teach her the way. [Exit Serv. heavens ! Why does my blood thus mu'ster to my heart. Making both it unable for itself. And dispossessing all my other parts Of necessary fitness ? So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons ;*^*' Come all to help him, and so stop the air By which he should revive : and even so The general, subject to a well-wish'd king, Quit their own part,"^' and in obsequious fondness Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love Must needs appear offence. Enter Isabella. ^ How now, fair maid ! Isab. I'm come to know your pleasure. Ang. That you might know it, would much better please me Than to demand what 'tis. Your brother cannot live. Isah. Even so. — Heaven keep your honour ! [Retiring. Ang. Yet may he live awhile ; and, it may be. As long as you or I : yet he must die. Isab. Under your sentence ? Ang. Yea. Isab. When, I beseech you ? that in his reprieve. Longer or shorter, he may be so fitted ^ That his soul sicken not. Ang. Ha ! fie, these filthy vices ! 'Twere as good To pardon him that hath from nature stol'n A man already made, as to remit Their saucy sweetness that do coin heaven's image In stamps that are forbid : 'tis all as easy Falsely to take away a life true made. As to put mettle in restrained means To make a false one. SCENE IV.] MEASURE FOR MEASUEE. 473 Isah. 'Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth. Ang. Say you so ?'*® then I shall pose you g[uickly. Which had you rather, — that the most just law Now took your brother's life ; or,**^' to redeem him, Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness As she that he hath stain'd ? Isah. Sir, believe this, I had rather give my body than my soul. Ang. I talk not of your soul : our compell'd sins Stand more for number than accompt.'"" Isab. How say you ? Ang. Nay, I'll not warrant that ; for I can speak Against the thing I say. Answer 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 sin To save this brother's life ? Isab. Please you to do't, I'll take it as a peril to my soul. It is no sin at all, but charity. 'Ang. Pleas'd you to do't at peril of your soul, Were equal poise of sin and charity. Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin. Heaven let me bear it ! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of mine. And nothing of your answer. Aug. Nay, but hear me. Your sense pursues not mine : either you're ignorant. Or seem so, craftily ; and that's not good.'"' Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good. But graciously to know I am no better. Aug., Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright When it doth tax itself; as these black masks Proclaim an enshield beauty''^' ten times louder Than beauty could, display'd. — But mark me f^ To be received plain, I'll speak more gross : Your brother is to die. Isab. So. Ang. And his offence is so, as it appears, 474 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. [act ii. Accountant to the law upon that pain. Isab. True. Ang. Admit no other way to save his life, — As I subscribe not that, nor any other. But in the loss of question,''*' — that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-binding law ;*'*' and that there were No earthly mean to save him, but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this suppos'd, or else to let him suffer ;*'" What would you do ? Isab. As much for my poor brother as myself: That is, were I under the terms of death, Th' impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, And strip myself to death, as to a bed That longing I've been sick for,'"' ere I'd yield My body up to shame. Ang. Then must Your brother die. Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way : Better it were a brother died at once. Than that a sister, by redeeming him, Should die for ever. Ang.- Were not you, then, as cruel as the sentence That you have slander'd so ? Isab. Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon. Are of two houses : lawful mercy is Nothing akin to foul redemption. ''*' Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a tyrant ; And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother A merriment than a vice. Isab. 0, pardon me, my lord ; it oft falls out, T' have what we'd have, we speak not what we mean : I something do excuse the thing I bate. For bis advantage that I dearly love. Ang. We are all frail. Isab. Else let my brother die, If not a fedary, but only he. BOENE IV.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 475 Owe and succeed this weakness.*'* Aug. Nay, women are frail too. Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves ; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Women ! — Help heaven ! men their creation mar In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail ; For we are soft as our complexions are, And credulous to false prints. Ang. I think it well : And from this testimony of your own sex, — Since, I suppose, we're made to he no stronger Than faults may shake our frames, — let me be bold ; — I do arrest your words. Be that you are. That is, a woman ; if you be more, you're none ; If you be one, — as you are well express'd By all external warrants, — show it now. By putting on the destin'd livery. Isab. I have no tongue but one : gentle my lord, Let me entreat you speak the former language. Ang. Plainly conceive, I love you. Isab. My brother did love Juliet ; and you tell me That he shall die for't. Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love. Isab. I know your virtue hath a license in't, Which seems a little fouler than it is. To pluck on others. Ang. Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose. Isab. Ha ! little honour to be much believ'd. And most pernicious purpose ! — Seeming, seeming ! — I will proclaim thee, Angelo ; look for't : Sign me a present pardon for my brother, Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world Aloud'*"' what man thou art. Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel ? My unsoil'd name, th' austereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, Will so your accusation overweigh. That you shall stifle in your own report. And smell of calumny. I have begun ; 476 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [aot hi. And now I give my sensual race the rein : Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite ; Lay by all nicety and prolixious hlushes, That banish what they sue for ; redeem thy brother By yielding up thy body to my will ; Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To lingering sufferance. Answer me to-morrow, Or, by th' affection that now guides me most, I'll prove a tyrant to him. As for you, Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true. [Exit. Isab. Towhom should I complain ? Did I tell this, Who would believe me ? perilous mouths, ''^' That bear in them one and the self-same tongue. Either of condemnation or approof ; Bidding the law make court'sy to their will ; Hooking both right and wrong to th' appetite. To follow as it draws ! I'U to my brother : Though he hath fall'n by prompture of the blood. Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour. That, had he twenty heads to tender down On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up. Before his sister should her body stoop To such abhorr'd pollution. Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die : More than our brother is our chastity. I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request. And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest. [_Exit. ACT III. Scene I. A room in the prison. Enter Duke disguised as before, Claudio, and Provost. Duke. So, then, you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo ? Claud. The miserable have no other medicine SCENE I.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 477 But only hope : I've hope to live, and am prepar'd to die. Duke. Be absolute for death : either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life : — If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep : a breath thou art. Servile to all the skyey influences That do this habitation, where thou keep'st. Hourly afflict :''^' merely, thou art death's fool ; For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun. And yet runn'st toward him stUl. Thou art not noble ; For all th' accommodations that thou bear'st Are nurs'd by baseness. Thou'rt by no means valiant ; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is. sleep, And that thou oft provok'st ; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. Thou'rt not thyself ; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not ; For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get, And what thou hast, forgett'st. Thou art not certain ; For thy complexion shifts to strange affects,**^' After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor ; For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows. Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey. And death unloads'*** thee. Friend hast thou none , For thine own bowels, which do caU thee sire,'*'' The mere effusion of thy proper loins. Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum. For ending thee no sooner. Thou'st nor youth nor age. But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both ; for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged,'*"' and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld ; and when thou'rt old and rich, Thou'st neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty. To make thy riches pleasant. "What's in this That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet death we fear,'*" That makes these odds all even. Claud. I humbly thank you. VOL. I. II 478 MEASURE FOE MEASUEE. [act hi. To sue to liye, I find I seek to die ; And, seeking death, find life : let it come on. Isab. [within] What, ho ! Peace here ; grace and good company ! Prov. Who's there? come in : the wish deserves a welcome. Duke. Dear son, ere long I'll visit you again. Clavd. Most holy sir,'*^' I thank you. Mitef Isabella. Isah. My business is a word or two with Claudio. Prov. And very welcome. — Look, signior, here's your sister. Duke. Provost, a word with you. Prov. As many as you please. Duke. Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be Conceal'd.'*^' [Exeunt Duke and Provost. Claud. Now, sister, what's the comfort ? Isab. Why, As all comforts are ; most good, most good indeed. Lord Angelo, having affairs to heaven. Intends you for his swift ambassador. Where you shall be an everlasting Heger : Therefore your best appointment make with speed ; To-morrow you set on. Claud. Is there no remedy ? Isab. None, but such remedy as, to save a head, To cleave a heart in twain. Claud. But is there any ? Isab. Yes, brother, you may live : There is a devilish mercy in the judge. If you'll implore it, that will free your life. But fetter you till death. Claud. Perpetual durance ? Isab. Ay, just ; perpetual durance, — a restraint. Though*'"' all the world's vastidity you had. To a determin'd scope. Claud. But in what nature ? Isab. In such a one as, you consenting to't. Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear, And leave you naked. SOKNB I.] MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. 479 Claud. Let me know the point. Isab. 0, I do fear thee, Claudio ; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon. In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. Claud. Why give you me this shame ? Think you I can a resolution fetch From flowery tenderness ?®^' If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride. And hug it in mine arms. Isab. There spake my brother ; there my father's grave Did utter forth a voice ! Yes, thou must die : Thou art too noble to conserve a life In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy — Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' th' head, and follies doth emmew As falcon doth the fowl — is yet a devil ; His filth within being cast, he would appear A pond as deep as hell. Claud. The priestly Angelo ? Isab. 0, 'tis the cunning livery of hell. The damned'st body to invest and cover In priestly guards !*'^' Dost thou think, Claudio, — If I would yield him my virginity, Thou mightst be freed ? Claud. heavens ! it cannot be. Isab. Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence. So to offend him still.®* This night's the time That I should do what I abhor to name. Or else thou diest to-morrow. Claud. Thou shalt not do't. Isab. 0, were it but my life, I'd throw it down for your deliverance As frankly as a pin. Claud. Thanks, dear Isabel. Isab. Be ready, Claudio, for your death to-morrow. 480 MBASUEE FOE MEASUEE. [act hi. Claud. Yes. — Has he affections in him, That thus can make him bite the law by the nose, When he would force it ? Sure, it is no sin ; Or of the deadly seven it is the least. Isab. Which is the least ? Claud. If it were damnable, he being so wise, Why would he for the momentary trick ^e perdurably fin'd ? — Isabel ! Isah. What says my brother ? Claud. Death's a fearful thing. Isdb. And shamed life a hateful. Claud. Ay, but to. die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A Isneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions**' of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Pi those that lawless and incertain thoughts®'' Imagine howling !: — 'tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury, '^^^ and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death. Isab. Alas, alas ! Claud. Sweet sister, let me live : What sin you do to save a brother's life. Nature dispenses with the deed so far That it becomes a virtue. Isdb. you beast ! faithless coward ! O dishonest wretch ! WUt thou be made a man out of my vice ? Is't not a kind of incest, to take life From thine own sister's shame ? What should I think ? Heaven shield my mother play'd my father fair ! For such a warped slip of wilderness Ne'er issu'd from his blood. Take my defiance ; Die, perish ! might but my bending down*'" SOEKE I.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 481 Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed : I'll pray a thousand prayers for thy death, — No word to save thee. Claud. Nay, hear me, Isahel. Isah. ■ 0, fie, fie, fie ! Thy sin's not accidental, but a trade. Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd : 'Tis best that thou diest quickly. {Going, Claud. 0, hear me, Isabella ! Re-enter Dtike. Duke. Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word, Isab. What is your will ? Duke. Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and by have some speech with you : the satisfaction I would require is likewise your own benefit. Isab. I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be stolen out of other afi'airs ; but I will attend you awhile. Duke. Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to cor- rupt her ; only he hath made an assay of her virtue to practise his judgment with the disposition of natures : she, having the truth of honour in her, hath made him that gracious denial which he is most glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I know this to be true ; therefore prepare yourself to death : do not satisfy"*' your resolution with hopes that are fallible : to-morrow you must die ; go to your knees, and make ready. Claud. Let me ask my sister pardon.'"" I am so out of love with life, that I will sue to be rid of it. Duke. Hold you there : farewell. [Exit Claudia.] Pro- vost, a word with you ! He-enter Provost. Prov. What's your will, father ? Duke. That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me awhile with the maid : my mind promises with my habit no loss shall touch her by my company. Prov. In good time. [Exit. Duke. The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good : the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty 482 MEASUEE FOE MEASUEE. [act hi. brief in goodness ; but grace, being the soul of your com- plexion, shall keep the body of it ever fair. The assault that Ajigelo hath made to you, fortune hath conveyed to my un- derstanding; and, but that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should wonder at Angelo. How will you do to con- tent this substitute, and to save your brother ? Isab. I am now going to resolve him, I had'^"'" rather my brother die by the law than my son should be unlawfully born. But how much is the good duke deceived in Angelo ! If ever he return, and I can speak to him, I will open my Hps in vain, or discover his government. Duke. That shall not be much amiss : yet, as the matter now stands, he will avoid your accusation, — he made trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my advisings : to the love I have in doing good a remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged lady a merited benefit ; redeem your brother from the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious' per- son ; and much please the absent duke, if peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of this business. Isab. Let me hear you speak further. I have spirit to do any thing that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit. Duke, Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea ? Isab. I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name. Duke. She should this Angelo have married; was affianced to her by oath,*^"^' and the nuptial appointed : between which time of the contract and limit of the solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea, having in that perished vessel the dowry of his sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the poor gentlewoman : there she lost a noble and renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most kind and natural ; with him, the portion and sinew of her fortune, her marriage- dowry ; with both, her combinate husband, this weU-seeming Angelo. Isab. Can this be so ? did Angelo so leave her ? Duke. Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them with his comfort ; swallowed his vows whole, pretending in SOENK I.] MEASURE FOE MEASURE. 483 her discoveries of dishonour: in few, bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake ; and he, a marble to her tears, is washed with them, but relents not. Isab. What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid from the world ! What corruption in this life, that it will let this man live ! — But how out of this can she avail ? Duke. It is a rupture that you may easily heal : and the cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps you from dishonour in doing it. Isab. Show me how, good father. Duke. This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continu- ance of her first affection : his unjust unkindness, that in all reason should have quenched her love, hath, like an impedi- ment in the current, made it more violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo ; answer his requiring with a plausible obedi- ence ; agree with his demands to the point ; only refer your- self to this advantage, — first, that your stay with him may not be long ; that the time may have all shadow and silence in it ; and the place answer to convenience. This being granted in course, now follows all :'^°^' — we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up your appointment, go in your place ; if the encounter acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to her recompense : and here, by this, is your brother saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana advantaged, and the cor- rupt deputy scaled.'^"*' The maid will I frame and make fit for his attempt. '^''*' If you think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof. What think you of it ? Isab. The image of it gives me content already ; and I trust it wiU grow to a most prosperous perfection. Duke. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo : if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to Saint Luke's : there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that place call upon me ; and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. Isab. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father. \_Exeunt severally. 484 MEASURE FOE MEASUEE. [act hi. Scene n.'^''^' The street before the prison. Enter, on one side, Duke disguised as lefore ; on the other. Elbow, and OfiSicers with Pompet. Elh. Nay, if ttere be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard. Duke. heavens ! what stuff is here ? Pom. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm ; and furred with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing. Elh. Come your way, sir. — Bless you, good father friar. Duke. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made you, sir ? Elh. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law : and, sir, we take him to be a thief too, sir ; for we have found upon him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have sent to the deputy. Duke. Fie, sirrah ! a bawd,^"^' a wicked bawd ! The evil that thou causest to be done. That is thy means to live. Do thou but think What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back From such a filthy vice : say to thyself, — From their abominable and beastly touches I drink, I eat, array^"" myself, and live. Canst thou believe thy living is a life. So stinkingly depending ? Go mend, go mend. Pom. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir ; but yet, sir, I would prove — Duke. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, Thou wilt prove his. — Take him to prison, officer : Correction and instruction must both work Ere this rude beast will profit. Elh. He must before the deputy, sir ; he has given him warning : the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster : if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. Duke. That we were all, as some would seem to be. SCENE II.] MEASURE FOB MEASURE. 485 Free from our faults, as from faults seeming free !'™' Elb. His neck will come to your waist, — a cord, sir. Pom. I spy comfort ; I cry, bail ! Here's a gentleman and a friend of mine. Unter Luoio. Liucio. How now, noble Pompey ! What, at the wheels of CaBSar ! art thou led in triumph ? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images, newly-made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and extracting it*^"" clutched ? What reply, ha ? What sayest thou to this tune, matter, and method ? Is't not drowned i' the last rain, ha ? What sayest thou to't ?'™' Is the world as it was, man ? Which is the way ? Is it sad, and few words ? or how ? The trick of it ? Duke. Still thus, and thus ; still worse ! Lucio. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress ? Procures she still, ha ? Pom. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. Lucio. Why, 'tis good ; it is the right of it ; it must be so : ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd : an un- shunned consequence ; it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey ? Pom. Yes, faith, sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell : go, say I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey ? or how ? Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Lucio. Well, then, imprison him : if imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right : bawd is he doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born. — Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison, Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey ; you will keep the house. Pom. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey ; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage : if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey. — Bless you, friar. Duke. And you. Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha ? Elb. Come your ways, sir; come. 486 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. [act ni. Pom. 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, and Officers with Pompey.'] What news, friar, of the duke ? Duke. I know none. Can you tell me of any? Lucio. Some say he is with the Emperor of Eussia ; other some, he is in Eome : but where is he, think you ? Duke. I know not where ; but wheresoever, I wish him well. Luck). It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from his'^^^' state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence ; he puts transgres- sion to't. Duke. He does well in't. Lucio. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him : something too crabbed that way, friar. Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it. Lucio. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred ; it is weU allied : but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say this Angelo was not made by man and woman, after the downright way of creation -.^^^^ is it true, think you ? Duke. How should he be made, then ? Lucio. Some report a sea-maid spawned him ; some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that, when he makes water, his urine is congealed ice ; that I know to be true : and he is a motion ungenerative ;'^^*' that's infallible. Duke. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace. Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a man ! Would the duke that is absent have done this ? Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a thousand : he had some feeling of the sport ; he knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy. Duke. I never heard the absent duke much detected for women ; he was not inclined that way. Lucio. 0, sir, you are deceived. Duke. 'Tis not possible. scsNE II.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 487 Lucio. Who, not the duke ? yes, your beggar of fifty ; and his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish : the duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too ; that let me inform you. Duke. You do him wrong, surely. Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his. A sly fellow'^^^ was the duke : and I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing. Duke. What, I prithee, might be the cause ? Lucio. No, — pardon ; 'tis a secret must be locked within the teeth and the lips : but this I can let you understand, — the greater file of the subject held the duke to be wise. Duke. Wise ! why, no question but he was. Lucio. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking : the very stream of his life and the business he hath helmed must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the envious a scholar, a statesman, and a sol- dier. Therefore you speak unskilfully; or if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your malice. Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer '^'^^ love. Lucio. Come, sir, I know what I know. Duke. I can hardly believe that, since you know not what you speak. But, if ever the duke return, — as our prayers ar§ he may, — let me desire you to make your answer before him. If it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to main- tain it : I am bound to call upon you ; and, I pray you, your name? Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio ; well known to the duke. Duke. He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to report you. Lucio. I fear you not. Duke. 0, you hope the duke will return no more ; or you imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But, indeed, I can do you little harm ; you'll forswear this again. Lucio. I'll be hanged first : thou art deceived in me, friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if Claudio die to-mor- row or no ? 488 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. [act hi. Duke. Why should he die, sir ? iMcio. Why, for filling a bottle with a tun-dish. I would the duke we talk of were returned again : this ungenitured agent wUl unpeople the province with continency; sparrows must not build in his house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke yet would have dark- deeds darkly answered; he would never bring them to light : would he were returned ! Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing. Farewell, good friar : I prithee, pray for me. The duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not past it yet; and I say to thee,*^^^' he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and garlic : say that I said so. Fare- well. [Exit. Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure scape ; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ? — But who comes here ? Miter EscALUs, Provost, and Officers with Mistkess Overdone. Escal. Go ; away with her to prison ! Mrs. Ov. Good my lord, be good to me ; your honour is accounted a merciful man ; good my lord. Escal. Double and treble admonition, and stiU forfeit in the same kind ? This would make mercy swear and play the tyrant. Prov. A bawd of eleven years' continuance, may it please your honour. Mrs. Ov. My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me. Mistress Kate Keep-down was with child by him in the duke's time ; he promised her marriage : his child is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob : I have kept it myself ; and see how he goes about to abuse me ! Escal. That fellow is a fellow of much license : — let him be called before us. — Away with her to prison ! — Go to ; no more words. [Exeunt Officers with Mistress 0«.] Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered ; Claudio must die to-mor- row : let him be furnished with divines, and have all cha- ritable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be so with him. 60ENE II.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 489 Prov. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advised him for the entertainment of death. Escal. Good even, good father. Duke. Bliss and goodness on you ! Escal. Of whence are you ? Duke. Not of this country, though my chance is now To use it for my time : I am a brother Of gracious order, late come from the See In special business from his holiness. Escal. What news abroad i' the world ? Duke. None, but that there is so great a fever on good- ness, that the dissolution of it must cure it : novelty is only in request ; and it is as dangerous*^*' to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant*^"* in any under- taking : there is scarce truth enough alive to make societies secure ; but security enough to make fellowships accursed : — much upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This news is old enough, yet it is every day's news. I pray you, sir, of what disposition was the duke ? Escal. One that, above all other strifes, contended espe- cially to know himself. Duke. What pleasure was he given to ? Escal. Bather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at any thing which professed to make him rejoice : a gentle- man of all temperance. But leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous ; and let me desire to know how you find Claudio prepared. I am made to under- stand that you have lent him visitation. Duke. He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice : yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life ; which I, by my good leisure, have discredited to him, and now is he resolved to die. Escal. You have paid the heavens your function, and the prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have laboured for the poor gentleman to the extremest shore of my modesty : but my brother justice have I found so severe, that he hath forced me to tell him he is indeed Justice. Duke. If his own life answer the straitness of his proceed- 490 MEASUBE FOB MEASURE. [act it. ing, it shall become him well ; wherein if he chance to fail, he hath sentenced himself. Escal. I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well. Duke. Peace be with you ! [Exeunt Escalus and Provost. He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe ; Pattern in himself to know, Grace to stand, and virtue go ;*^''" More nor less to others paying Than by self-offences weighing. Shame to him whose cruel striking Kills for faults of his own liking ! Twice treble shame on Angelo, To weed my vice, and let his grow ! 0, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side ! How may likeness wade in crimes, Making practice on the times. To draw with idle spiders' strings Most ponderous and substantial things !'^^' Craft against vice I must apply : With Angelo to-night shall lie His old betrothed but despis'd ; So disguise shall, by th' disguis'd. Pay vdth falsehood false exacting. And perform an old contracting. [Exit. ACT IV. Scene I. Before Maeuna's house. Mariana discovered sitting; a "Boj singing. Song. Take, 0, take those lips away,* That so sweetly were forsworn ; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the mom : ' Take, 0, take those lips away, (&c.2 This song occui-s in act v. se. 2 of SCENE I.] MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 491 But my kisses bring again, Bring again. ; Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, Seal'd in vain. Mari. Break ofif thy song, and haste thee quick away : Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often still'd my brawling discontent. [Exit Boy. Enter Duke disguised as before. I cry you mercy, sir ; and well could wish You had not found me here so musical : Let me excuse me, and believe me so, — My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe. Duke. 'Tis good ; though music oft hath such a charm To make bad good, and good provoke to harm. — I pray you, tell me, hath any body inquired for me here to- day ? much upon this time have I promised here to meet.'^^^' Mari. You have not been inquired after : I have sat here all day. Duke. I do constantly believe you. — The time is come even now. I shall crave your forbearance a little : may be I wiU call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself. Mari. I am always bound to you. [Exit. Enter Isabella. Duke. Very well met, and welcome. What is the news from this good deputy ? Isah. He hath a garden circummur'd with brick, Fletcher and . . . . [?]'s Bloody Brother, with the following additional Btanza ; " Hide, 0, hide those hills of snow, Which thy frozen bosom bears, On whose tops the pinks that grow Are of those that April wears ! But first set my poor heart free, Bound in those icy chains by thee." Both stanzas are found in the spurious edition of Shakespeare's Poems, 1640. — Did Shakespeare write both stanzas? did he write only the first stanza, while Fletcher wrote the second? or did some unknown poet write the whole ? — are questions which must ever remain matter of dispute. 492 MEASURE FOB MEASURE. [act iv. Whose western side is with a vineyard back'd ; And to that vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger key : This other doth command a little door Which from the vineyard to the garden leads ; There have I made my promise Upon the heavy middle of the night To caU upon him.'^^^' Duke. But shall you on your knowledge find this way ? Isab. I've ta'en a due and wary note upon't : With whispering and most guilty diligence, In action all of precept, he did show me The way twice o'er. Duke. Are there no other tokens Between you greed concerning her observance ? Isab. No, none, but only a repair i' the dark; And that I have possess'd him my most stay Can be but brief ; for I have made him know I have a servant comes with me along, That stays upon me ; whose persuasion is I come about my brother. Duke. 'Tis well borne up. I have not yet made known to Mariana A word of this. — What, ho ! within ! come forth ! Re-enter Mabiana. I pray you, be acquainted with this maid ; She comes to do you good. Isab. I do desire the like. Duke. Do you persuade yourself that I respect you ? Mori. Good friar, I know you do, and oft'^^*' have found it. Duke. Take, then, this your companion by the hand, Who hath a story ready for your ear. I shall attend your leisure : but make haste ; The vaporous night approaches. Mari. WiU't please you walk aside ? [Exeunt Mariana and Isabella. Duke. place and greatness, millions of false eyes Are stuck upon thee ! volumes of report SCENE II.] MEASURE FOE MEASUBE. 493 Run with these false and most contrarious quests*^^^' Upon thy doings ! thousand scapes of wit Make thee the father of their idle dreams, '^^® And rack thee in their fancies ! Re-enter Mariana and Isabella. Welcome ! How greed ?