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Volume the third : 


A Midfummer Night's Dream $ 
The Merchant of Venice j 
jfs you like it ; 
The Taming of the Shrew. 


Printed for J. and R. TON SON in the Strand. 





PerfcHs represented. 

Thefeus, Duke of Athens. 

Lyfander, in lo--ve ivith Hermia. 

Demetrius, belo^d of Helena. 

Egeus, Father to Hermia. 

Fhiloftrate, Mafter of the Sports to Thefeus. ' 

Quince, the Carpenter; 
Bottom, the Weaver ; 
Flute, the Bellows-mender 
Snout, the Tinker; 
Snug, the Joiner; and 
Starveling, the Tailor; 

-4f I ~} ike Prologue i 
i*f !r I Pyramus, and 
!; (Thisbe; 

- -2 1 ( Wal1 * 
.551 Lion, and 
6 S ^J Moon-Jhine. 

Hippolita, S>ueen pftbe Amazons. 



Oberon, King of the Fairies:. 
Titania, bis i^ueen. 
Puck, cr, Robin Good -fellow. 
Pease-blofTom, Cobweb, Moth, 
Muftard-feed, and three other 
Fairies, attending the >neen* 

Other Fairies, attending the King and Quzen. 
Attendants upon Thefeus aWHippolita. 

Scene, Athens ; and a Wood net far from ;/. 



SCENE I. Athens. 

A State -Room in Thefeus'j Palace. 

Enter THESEUS, WHIPPOLITA; Philoftrate, 

and Others, attending. 

THE. Now, fair Hippolita, our nuptial hour 
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in 
Another moon: but, o, methinks, how flow 
This old moon wanes! fhe lingers my desires, 
Like to a ftep dame, or a dowager, 
Long withering-out a young man's revenue. 

HIP. Four days will quickly iteep themfelves in nights; 
Four nights will quickly dream away the time; 
And then the moon, like to a filver bow 
New bent in heaven, {hall behold the night 
Of our fo!emnities. 

THE . Go, Philojlrate, 
Stir up the Athenian youth to merriments ; 
Awake the p^rt and nimble fpirit of mirth; 
Turn melancholy forth to funerals, 
The pale companion is not for our pomp.-^ [Exit Phi. 

10 Now 

A 4 

A MiJfummer Night's Dream* 

y I woo'd thee with my fword, 
And won thy love, doing thee injuries; 
But I will wed thee in another key, 
With pomp, with triumph, and with revelling. 
Enter EG E u s , and bis Daughter H E R M i A ; 

JEcE. Happy be Tkefeus, our renowned duke! 

THE. Thanks, good Egeus: What's the news with thee? 

EGE. Full of vexation come I, with complaint 
Agdinft my child, my daughter Hernia.. 
Stand forth, Demetrius; My noble lord, 
This man hath my confent to marry herr_ 
Stand forth, Lyjander ; _ and, my gracious duke, 
This hath be'witch'd the bosom of my child : _ 
Thou, thou, Lyfander, thou haft given her rimes, 
And interchang'd love-tokens with my child: 
Thou haft by moon-light at her window fung, 
With feigning voice, verfes of feigning love^ 
And ftoln the impreffion of her fantafy 
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, 
Knacks, trifles, nose-gays, fweet-meats; me/Tenders 
Of ftiong prevailment in unharden'd youth : 
With cunning haft thou filch'd my daughter's heart; 
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me, 
To ftubborn harfhnefs:_ And, my gracious duke 
Be it fo me will not here before your grace 
Confent to marry with Depielrius, 
I beg the ancient priviledge of Athens; 
As {he is mine, I may difpose of her: 
Which (hall be either to this ~]~ gentleman, 
Or to her death ; according to our law. 
Immediately provided in that cafe. 

A Midfummer Nigbfs Dream. g 

THE. What fay you, Hermia? be advis'd, fair maid: 
To you your father mould be as a god ; 
One that compos'd your beauties ; yea, and one 
To whom you are but as a form in wax, 
By him imprinted, and within his power 
To'leave the figure, or diffigure it. 
Demetrius is a worthy gentleman. 

HER . So is Lyfander. 

THE. In himfelf he is: 

But, in this kind, wanting your father's voice, 
The other muft be held the worthier. 

HER. I would, my father look'd but with my eyes. 

THE . Rather your eyes muft with his j udgment look. 

HER. I do entreat your grace to pardon me. 
I know not by what power I am made bold ; 
Nor how it may concern my modefty, 
In fuch a presence here, to plead my thoughts : 
But I befeech your grace, that I may know 
The worft that may befal me in this cafe, 
If I refuse to wed Demetrius. 

TUE. Either to die the death, or to abjure 
For ever the fociety of men. 
Therefore, fair Hermia, queftion your desires, 
Know of your youth, examine weil your blood, 
Whether, if you yield not to your father's choice, 
You can endure the livery of a nun ; 
For aye to be in fhady cloilter mew'd, 
To live a barren fitter all your life, 
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitlefs moon. 
Thrice bleiTed they, that mafter fo their blood, 
To undergo fuch maiden pilgrimage: 
Bui earthly happier is the rose diftill'd, 

3* earthlyer happy 

6 A Mdfummer Night's Drccm. 

Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, 
Grows, lives, and dies, in fingle ble/Tednefs. 

HER. So will I grow, fo live, fo die, my lord, 
Ere I will yield my virgin patent up 
Unto his lord&ip, to whose unwifh'd yoak 
My foul cor.fents not to give fovereignty. 

THE. Take time to pause : and, by the next new moon, 
(The fealing-day betwixt my love and me, 
For everlafting bond of fellowfhip) 
Upon that day either prepare to die, 
For difobedience to your father's will ; 
Or elfe to wed Demetrius, as he would; 
Or on Diaxa's altar to proteft, 
For aye, aufterity and fingle life. 

DIM. Relent, fweet Hernia; And, Lyfander, yield 

Thy crazed title to my certain right. 

Lrs. You have her father's love, Demetrius^ 
Let me have Hernia's : do you marry him. 

EGE. Scornful Lyfander! true, he hath my lovej 
And what is mine, my love ihall render him: 
And fhe is mine; and all my right of her 
I do eftate unto Demetrius. 

Lrs. 1 am, my lord, as well deriv'd as he, 
As well posseflfd ; my love is more than his; 
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd, 
Jf not with vantage, as Demetrius' j 
And, which is more than all these boafts can be,^ 
J am belov'd of beauteous Hermia: 
Why fhould not I then profecute my right? 
Demstriuj, I'll avouch it to his head, 
Made love to NeJar's daughter, Helena, 
And won her foul; and foe, fweet lady, dotes, 

A Mitifummer Night's Dream. y 

Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry, 
Upon this fpotted and inconftant man. 

THE. 1 muft confefs, that I have heard fo much, 
And with Demetrius thought to have fpoke thereof; 
But, being over-full of felf-affairs, 
My mind did lose it But, Demetrius, come, 
And come, Egeus; you fliall go with me, 

I have fomc private fchooling for you both. 

For you, fair Hermia, look you arm yourfelf 
To fit your fancies to your father's will ; 
Or elfe die law of Athens yields you up 
(Which by no means we may extenuate) 
To death, or to a vow of fingle life._ 
Come, my Hippolita; What cheer, my love? 
Demetrius, and Egeus, go along: 
J mull employ you in foine husinefs 
Againft our nuptial ; and confer with you 
Of fomething, nearly that concerns yourfelves. 

EGE. With duty, and desire, we follow you. 

[Exeunt THE. HIP. EGE. DEM. and'Traitr* 

Lrs. How now, my love? Why is your cheek fo pale: 
How chance the roses there do fade fo faft? 

HER. Belike, for want of rain; which I could well 
Beteem.them from the tempelt of mine eyes. 

Lrs. Hcrmia, for ought that I could ever read, 
Could ever hear by tale or hiftory, 
The courfe of true love never did run fmooth. 
But either it was different in blood; 

HER. O crofs! too high to be enthral'd to low! 

Lrs. Or elfe mifgraficd, in refpecl of years; 

HER. O fpite! too old to be engag'd to young! 

Lrs. Or elfe it ilpod upon the choice of friends; 

a 3 to love. 

8 A Midjianmer Night's Dream. 

HER. O hel!! to choose love by another's eye? 

Lrs Or, if there were a fympathy in choice, 
War, death, or ficknefs, did lay fiege to it; 
Making it momentary as a found, 
Swift as a fhadow, fhort as any dream ; 
Brief as the lightning in the colly'd night, 
That, in a fpleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, 
And ere a man hath power to fay, Behold, 
The jaws of darknefs do devour it up: 
So quick bright things come to confusion. 

HEX. If then true lovers have been ever crofTd, 
It (lands as an edift in deftiny: 
Then let us teach our trial patience, 
Because it is a cuftomary crofs ; 
As due to love, as thoughts, and dreams, and lighs, 
Wifhes, and tears, poor fancy's followers. 

Lrs. A good perfuasion ; therefore, hear me, Hertaia,* 
I have a widow aunt, a dowager 
Of great revenue, and (he hath no child: 
From Athens is her houfe remote feven leagues; 
And fhe refpefts me as her only fon. 
There, gentle Hernia, may I marry thee ; 
And to that place the (harp Athenian law 
Cannot purfue us: If thou lov'it me then, 
Steal forth thy father's houfe to-morrow night; 
And, in the wood, a league without the town, 
Where I did meet thee once with Helena* 
To do observance to a morn of May, 
There will I flay for thee. 

HER. My good Lyfander! 
T fwear to thee, by Cupid's ftrongeft bow; 
By his beft arrow with the golden head ; 

A Midfummer Night 1 i Dream. 9 

By the fimplicity of Venus' doves; 
By that which knitteth fouls, and profpers loves; 
And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage queen, 
When the falfe Trojan under fail was feen ; 
By all the vows that ever men have broke, 
In number more then ever women fpoke; 
]n that fame place thou haft appointed me, 
To-morrow truly will f meet with thee. 

Zrs. Keep promise, love: Look, here comes Helena. 
Enter HELENA. 

HER. God fpeed, fair Helena! Whither away? 

HEL. Call you me fair? that fair again unfay. 
Demetrius loves you, fair: O happy fair! 
Your eyes are load-ftars; and your tongue's fweet air 
More tuneable than lark to fhepherd's ear, 
When wheat is green, when hauthorn buds appear. 
Sicknefs is catching; O, were favour fo! 
Your's would I catch, fair Hermia, ere I go; 
My ear mould catch your voice, my eye your eye, 
My tongue mould catch your tongue's fweet melody. 
Were the world mine, Demetrius being bated, 
The reft I'll give to be to you tranflated. 
O, teach me how you look; and with what art 
You fway the motion of Demetrius 1 heart. 

HER. I frown upon him, yet he loves me ftill. [{kill! 

HEL. O, that your frowns would teach myfmiles fuch 

HER. I give him curfe's, yet he gives me love. 

HEL. O, that my prayers could fuch affection move! 

HER. The more I hate, the more he follows me. 

HEL. The more I love, the more he hateth me. 

HER. His folly, Helena, is no fault of mine, [mine J 

HEL. None, but your beauty ; 'Would, that fault were 

i? Your words I catch 

io Jl MMfutimcr Night's Dream. 

HER. Take comfort; he no more (hall fee fny face; 
Ly lander and myfelf will fly this place 
Be'fore the time I did Lyjander fee, 
Scem'd JStbens as a paradife to me : 
O then, what graces in my love do dwell, 
That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell ? 

Lrs. Helen, to you our minds we will unfold: 
To-morrow night, when Fbesbe doth behold 
Jier filver visage in the watry glafs, 
Decking with liquid pearl the biaded grafs, 
(A time that lovers' flights doth ftill conceal) 
Through Athens' gates have we devis'd to flcal. 

HER. And in the wood, where often you and I 
Upon faint primrose beds were wont to lye, 
Emptying our bosoms of their counfel fweet; 
There my Lyfander and myfelf {hall meet: 
And thence, from Athens, turn away our eyes, 
To feek new friends and ftranger companies. 
Farewel, fweet play-fellow: pray thou for us, 
Arid good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! '_ 
Keep \vm&,LyJander: we mult flarve our fight 
From lovers' rood, 'till morrow deep midnight. 

Lrs. I will, my Hsrmia. Helena, adieu: 
As you on him, Demttrius dote on you! 


HEL. How happy fome. o'er other fome, can her 
Through Atbem 1 am thought as fair as (he. 
But what of that? Demttrius thinks not fo; 
He will not know what all but he do know. 
And as he errs, doting on Hernia's eyes, 
So I, admiring of his qualities. 

5 fwe!d : 18 c:mpanior.s, 

A Mu'fu'Kbiar Night's Dretim, II 

Things bafe apd vile, holding no quantity, 

Love can tranfpose to form arid dignity. 

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; 

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind: 

Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taite; 

Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haftc: 

And therefore is love faid to be a child, 

Because in choice he is fo oft beguil'd. 

As waggifh bays in game themielves forfwear, 

So the boy love is perjur'd every where: 

For ere Demetrius look'd on Hernia's eyen, 

He hail'd down oaths, that he was only mine; 

And when this hail fome heat from Hermia felt, 

Lo, he dissolv'd, and (bowers of oaths did melt. 

I will go tell him of fair Hermia 's flight : 

Then to the wood will he, to-morrow night, 

Purfue her; and for this intelligence 

If [ have thanks, it is a dear expence: 

But herein mean I to enrich my pain, 

To have his fight thither, and back again. [Exit. 

SCENE II. The fame. A Room in Quince'/ Houfe. 

Qui. Is all our company here? 
Bar. You were beft to call them generally, man by 
man, according to the fcrip. 

<$fji. Hcre~f~is the fcrowl of every man's name, which 
is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our inter- 
lude before ths duke and the dutchefs, on his wedding- 
day at night. 
oT. Firft, good Peter Quince, fay what the play treats 

i4 So he 

12 A Midj'ummer Night* i Dream. 

on; then read the names of the adlors; and fo grow to 
a point. 

>ui. Marry, our play is The moft lamentable co- 
medy, and moft cruel death of Pyramus and Tbisby. 
Bor. A very good piece of work, I aflure you, and a 

merry Now, good Peter Quince, call forth your aclors 

by the fcrowl:_ Matters, fpread yourfelves. 
Qyi. Anfwer, as I call you Nick Bottom, the weaver. 
Bof. Ready: Name what part I am for, and proceed. 
Qui. You, Nick Bottom, are fet down for Pyramus. 
oT. What is Pyramus? a lover, or a tyrant? 
Qyi. A lover, that kills himfelf moft gallant for love. 
Bof. That will aflc fome tears in the true performing 
of it: If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes; 1 
will move ftorms, I will condole in fome measure. To 
the reft; Yet my chief humour is for a tyrant: I could 
play Ercles rarely, or a part to tear a cat in : 

To make all fplit 

The raging rocks; 
And fhivering mocks 
Shall break the locks 
Of prison gates; 
And Phibbus' car 
Shall mine from far, 
And make and mar 
The foolifti fates. 

This was lofty !_Now name the reft of the players 

This is Ercles 1 vein, a tyrant's vein; a lover is more 

Qui. Francis Flute, the bellows-mender. 
FLU. Here, Peter Quince. 
%/. Flute, you muft take Tbisby on you. 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. I J 

FLU. What is Thisby? & wand'ring knight? 
Qyi. It is the la 1y that Pyramus muft love. 
FLU. Nay, 'faith, let not me play a woman; I have 
a beard coming. 

Qui. r iat'i all one; you fhall play it in a maflc, 
and you may (peak as unall as you will. 

01". An I may hide my face, let me play Tb:sby too: 
I'll fpeak in a monftrous little voice ; Thisne, Thisne! 

/,!/6, Pyramus, my lover dear; thy Thisby deat, and Lady 


Qui. No, no; you muft play Pyramus, and, Flute, you 

SOT. Well, proceed. 
Qui. Robin Starveling, the tailor. 
SrA Here, Peter Quince. 

Qui. Robin Starveling, you muft play Thistys mo- 
ther Tom Snout, the tinker. 
SNO. Here, Peter Quince. 

Qui. You, Pyramus' father ; myfelf, Tbisby's father ;_< 
Snug, the joiner, you, the lion's part:_and, i hope, here 
is a play fitted. 

SNU. Have you the lion's part written? pray you, if 
it be, give it me, for I am flow of ftudy. 

Qui. You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but 

Bof. Let me play the lion too: I will roar, that I 
will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, 
that I will make the duke fay, Let him roar again, let 
him roar again. 

Qvi. An you mould do it too terribly, you would 
fright the dutchefs, and the ladies, that they would 
fhriek; and that were enough to hang us all. 


1 4 A Midfummer Night's Dream. 

Clo. That would hang us every mother's fon. 

Bor. I grant you, friends, if you fhould fright the 
ladies out of their wits, they would have no more dif- 
cretion but to hang us : but I will aggravate my voice 
fo, that I will roar you as gently as any fucking dove; 
I -will roar an 'twere any nightingale. 

9yi. You can play no part but Pyramus: for Pyramus 
is a fweet-fac'd man ; a proper man, as one mall fee in 
a fummer's day; a moil luvely, gentleman-like man; 
therefore you mull needs play Pyramus. 

Bor. Well, I will undertake it. What beard were I 
beft to play it in ? 

>yi. Why, what you will. 

BoT. I will difcharge it in either your Itraw-colour 
"beard, your orange-tawny beard, your purple-in-grain 
beard, or your /Wo&-crown-colour beard, your perfect 

Qvi. Some of your French crowns have no hair at 
all, and then you will play bare-fac'd But, mailers, 
here^are your parts: and I am to entreat you, requeft 
you, and desire you, to con them by to-morrow night; 
and meet me in the palace wood, a mile without the 
town, by moon-light; there will we rehearfe: for if 
we meet in the city, we mall be dog'd with company, 
and our devices known. In the mean time, I will draw 
a bill of properties, fuch as our play wants. I pray you, 
fail me not. 

Bor. We will meet; and there we may rehearfe mofr. 
obfcenely, and courageoufly. Take pains; be perfeft; 

Qyi. At the duke's oak we meet: 

Bor. Enough; Hold, or cut bow-ftrings. [Exeunt. 

A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 


SCENE I. A Wood near Athens. 

Enter, from opposite Sides, a Fairy, and PUCK, 

or, Robin Good-fellow. 

Puc. How now, fpirit! whither wander you? 
Fat. Over hill, over dale, 

'Thorough bu(h, thorough briar, 
Over park, over pale, 

Thorough flood, thorough fire, 
I do wander every where, 
Swifter than the moon's fphere; 
And i ferve the fairy queen, 
To dew her orbs upon the green : 
The cowfiips tall her penfioners be; 
In their gold coats fpots you fee; 
Those be rubies, fairy favours, 
In those freckles live their favours: 
T muft go feek fome dew-drops here anil t$0fff 
And hang a pearl in every cowflip's ear. 
Farewel, thou lob of fpirits, I'll be gone; 
Our queen and all her elves come here anon. 

Puc. The king doth keep his revels here to-night; 
Take heed the queen come not within his fight. 
For Oberon is paffing fell and wrath, 
Because that (he, as her attendant, hath 
A lovely boy, ftoln from an Indian king; 
She never had fo fweet a changeling: 
And jealous Oberon would have the child 
Knight of his train, to trace the forefts wild: 

B 2 

1 6 A Midfummtr Night's Dream. 

But (he, perforce, withholds the loved boy, 
Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy: 
- And now they never meet in grove, or green, 
By fountain clear, or fpangl'd ftar-light flieen, 
But they do fquare; that all their elves, for fear, 
Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there. 

Fat. Either 1 miftake your fhape and making quite, 
Or elfe you are that fhrevvd and knavifh fprite, 
Call'd Robin Good-fellow: Are not you he, 
That frights the maidens of the villag'ry; 
Skim miik; and fometimes labour in the quern, 
And bootlefs make the breathlefs huswife churn; 
And fometime make the drink to bear no barm; 
Miflead night-wanderers, laughing at their harm? 
Those that Hob-goblin call you, and fvveet Puck, 
You do their work, and they (hall have good luck: - 
Are not you he ? 

Puc. Thou fpeakeft me aright; 
I am that merry wanderer of the night. 
I jeft to Obercn, and make him fmile, 
When I a fat and bean-fed horie beguile, 
Neighing in likenefs of a filly foal: 
And fometime lurk I in a goffip's bowl, 
In very likenefs of a roafted crab; 
And, when me drinks, againft her lips I bob, 
And on her wither'd dew-Jap pour the ale. 
The wiseft aunt, telling the faddeft tale, 
Sometime for three-foot ftool miftaketh me; 
Then flip I from her bum, down topples Ihe, 
And rails, or cries, and fails into a coffe; 
And then the whole quire hold their hips, and lofFe, 
And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and fwear 

3 Ar.d tailour criei 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 1 7 

A merrier hour was never wafted there. 
But ma&e room, fairy, here comes Oberon. 

Fai. And here my miitrefs : ' Would, thathe were gone ! 

Enter the King of Fairies, 

from one Side, 'with bis "Train ; and the Queen, 
from the other, ivith hers. 

OBE. Ill met by moon-light, proud Titania. 

Tif, What, jealous Oberon? Fairy, flcip hence, 

I have forfworn his bed and company. 

QBE. Tarry, ram wanton; Am not I thy lord? 

Tif. Then I mutt be thy lady: But I know 
When thou haft ftoln away from fairy land, 
And in the fhape of Corin fat all day, 
Playing on pipes of corn, and veriing love 
To amorous Phillida. Why art thou here, 
Come from the fartheft ftep of India? 
But that, forfooth, the bouncing Amazon, 
Your bufkin'd miftrefs, and your warrior love, 
To Thefeus muil be wedded; and you come 
To give their bed joy and profperity. 

QBE. How canft thou thus, for mame, Titania, 
Glance at my credit, with Hippolita, 
Knowing I know thy love to Thefeus? 
Didft thou not lead him through the glimmering night 
From Perigenia, whom he ravifhed ? 
And make him with fair Egle break his faith, 
With Ariadne, and Antiopa? 

TiT. These are the forgeries of jealoufy: 
And never, fince that middle fummer's fpring, 
Met we on hill, in dale, foreft, or mead, 
By paved fountain, or by rulhy brook, 
Or on the beached margent of the fea, 

*<5 Eagles *9 fince the middle J a Or in 


1 8 A Midfummer Night's Dream. 

To dance our ringlets to the whittling wind, 
But with thy brawls thou haft difturb'd our fport. 
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, 
As in revenge, have fuck'd up from the fea 
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land, 
Hath every pelting river made fo proud, 
That they have over-born their continents. 
The ox hath therefore ftretch'd his yoak in vain, 
The ploughman loft his fweat; and the green corn 
Hath rotted, ere his youth attain'd a beard: 
The fold ftands empty in the drowned field, 
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock : 
The nine-men's morrice is fill'd up with mud; 
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green, 
For lack of tread, are undiftinguifhable. 
The human mortals want their winter here, 
No night is now with hymn or carol bleft. 
Therefore the moon, the governefs of floods, 
Pale in her anger, wafhes all the air, 
That rheumatick diseases do abound. 
And, thorough this diftemperature, we fee 
The feasons alter: hoary-headed frofts 
Fall in the frefli lap of the crimson rose; 
And on old Hyems 1 chin, and icy crown, 
An odorous chaplet of fxveet fummer buds 
Is, as in mockery, fet. The fpring, the fummer, 
The chiding autumn, angry winter, change 
Their wonted liveries; and the 'mazed world, 
By their encreafe, now knows not which is which : 
And this fame progeny of evils comes 
From our debate, from our diflention; 
We are their parents and original. 

*7 childing 

A Midfummer Night's Drfata. 1 9 

QBE. Do you amend it thejj; it Iks in you: 
Why ftiould Titania crofs her (Jberon? 
I do but beg a little changeling boy, 
To be my henchman. 

TIT. Set your heart at reft, 
The fairy land buys not the child of me. 
His mother was a votrefs of my order: 
And, in the fpiced Indian air, by night, 
Full often hath (he goflip'd by my fide; 
And fat with me on Neptune's yellow fands, 
Marking the embarked traders on the flood; 
When we have laugh'd to fee the fails conceive, 
And grow big-belly'd, with the wanton wind : 
Which fhe, with pretty and with fwimming gait, 
Following (her womb then rich with my young fquire) 
Would imitate; and fail upon the land, 
To fetch me trifles, and return again, 
As from a voyage, rich with merchandize. 
But (he, being mortal, of that boy did die; 
And, for her fake, do I rear up her boy ; 
And, for her fake, I will not part with him. 

QBE. How long within this wood intend you (lay? 

TiT. Perchance, 'till after Thefeus 1 wedding-day. 
If you will patiently dance in our round, 
And fee our moon-light revels, go with us; 
If not, fhun me, and I will fpare your haunts. 

OBE. Give me that boy, and 1 will go with thee. 

TIT. Not for thy fairy kingdom Fairies, away: 

We mail chide down-right, if I longer ftay. 

\Exeunt Queen, and her Train. 

OBE. Wei!, go thy way: thou (halt not from this grove, 
'Till I torment thee for this injury. _ 

2O A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

My gentle Puck, come hither: Thou remember'ft 
Since once I fat upon a promontory, 
And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, 
Uttering fuch dulcet and harmonious breath, 
That the rude fea grew civil at her fong; 
And certain ftars fliot madly from their fpheres, 
To hear the fea-maid's musick. 

Puc. I remember. 

QBE. That very time, I faw, (but thou could'ft not) 
Flying between the cold moon and the earth, 
Cafid z\\ arm'd: a certain aim he took 
At a fair veflal, throned by the weft; 
And loof'd his love-ihaft fmartJy from his bow, 
As it fhoiild pierce a hundred thousand hearts: 
But I might fee young Cupid's* fiery ftiaft 
Quench'd in the chaft beams of the watry moon; 
And the imperial votrefs pa/Ted on, 
Jn maiden meditation, fancy-free. 
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Ca^/Vfell: 
It fell upon a little weftern flower, 
Before, milk-white; now purple with love's wound, 
And maidens call it, love-in-idlenefs. 
Fetch me that flower; the herb I fhew'd thee once; 
The juice of it, on flceping eye- lids lay'd, 
Will make or iran or woman madly doat 
Upon the next live creature that it fees. 
Fetch me this herb; and be thou here again, 
Ere the leviathan can fwim a league. 

Puc. I'll put a girdie round about the earth 
In forty minutes. [*/, PUCK. 

OB. Having once this juice, 
I'll watch Juania when Ihe is afleep, 

A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

And drop the liquor of it in her eyes: 
The next thing then rhe waking looks upon, 
(Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, 
On mecliinjr monkey, or on busy ape) 
She (hall puriue it with the foul of love. 
And ere i take this charm from off her fight, 
(As I can take it with another herb) 
I'll make her render up her page to me. 
But who comes here? I am invisible; 
And I will over-hear their conference. 

E filer DEMETRIUS, HELENA following him. 

DEM. I love thee not, therefore purfue me not. 
Where is Lyfander, and fair Hermia? 
The one I'll flay, the other flayeth me. 
Thou told'ii me, they were itoln unto this wood; 
And here am 1, and wode within this wood, 
Because I cannot meet my Hermia. 
Hence, get thee gone, and follow me no more. 

HEL. You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant; 
But yet you draw not iron, for my heart 
Is true as ileel : Leave you your power to draw, 
And I fhall have no power to follow you. 

DEM. Do i entice you r Do I fpeak you fair? 
Or, rather, do I'not in plained truth 
Tell vou 1 do not, nor I cannot, love you ? 

HEL. And even for that do 1 love you the more. 
I am your fpaniel ; and, Demetrius, 
The more you beat me, I will fawn on you: 
Use me but as your fpaniel, fpurn me, itrike me, 
Neglect me, lose me; oniy give me leave, 
Unworthy as I am, to follow you. 
What worfcr place can I beg in your love, 

J4 flay flayeth 

22 A Mldfummer Night's Dream. 

(And yet a place of high refpecl with me) 
Than to be used as you use your dog ? 

DEM. Tempt not too much the hatred of my fpirit; 
For I am fick, when 1 do look on thee. 

HEL. And I am fick, when I look not on ycu. 

DEM. You do impeach your modefty too much, 
To leave the city, and commit yourfelf 
]nto the hands of one that loves you not; 
To truft the opportunity of night, 
And the ill counfel of a desert place, 
With the rich worth of your virginity. 

HEL. Your virtue is my priviledge: For that 
It is not night, when I do fee your face, 
Therefore J think I am not in the night : 
Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company; 
For you, in my refpeft, are all the world : 
Then how can it be faid, I anj alone, 
When all the world is here to look on me? 

DEM. I'll run from thee; and hide me in the brakes, 
And leave thee to the mercy of wild beads. 

HEL. The wildeft hath not fuch a heart as you. 
Run when you will, the ftory (hall be chang'd: 
jf polio files, and Daphne holds the chace; 
The dove purfues the griffin ; the mild hind 
Makes fpeed to catch the tiger : Bootlefs fpeed ! 
When cowardice purfues, and valour flies. 

Dr.M. I will not flay thy queflions; let me go: 
Or, if thou follow me, do not believe 
But I fhall do thee mifchief in the wood. 

HEL. Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, 
You do me mifchief. Fie, Demetrius! 
Your wrongs do fet a fcandal on my fex : 

A MiJfurnmer Night's Dream. 2 3 

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; 

We mould be woo'd, and were not made to woo. 

[DEMETRIUS breaks from her, and Exit. 
I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, 
To die upon the hand I love fo well. [Exit. 

OBE. Fare thee well, nymph: ere he do leave this grove, 
Thou malt fly him, and he mall feek thy love 

Re- enter PUCK. 
Haft thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer. 

Puc. Ay, there-fit is. 

OBE. I pray thee, give it me. 
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, 
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows; 
O'er-canopy'd with lufcious woodbine, 
With fweet mufk-roses, and with eglantine: 
There fleeps Titania, fome time of the night, 
LulI'd in these flowers with dances and delight; 
And there the fnake throws her enamel'd {kin, 
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in : 
And with the juice of this ^~ I'll ftreak her eyes, 
And, make her full of haccful fantafies. 
Take thou =p fome of it, and feek through this grove: 
A fweet Athenian lady is in love 
With a difdainful youth: anoint his eyes ; 
But do it, when the next thing he efpies 
May be the lady: Thou fhalt know the man 
By the Athenian garments he hath on. 
Effeft it with fome care; that he may prove 
More fond on her, than fhe upon her love: 
And look thou meet me ere the firft cock crow. 

Pvc. Fear not, my lord, your fervant fliall do fo. 

[ Exeunt, fever ally. 

*4 Quite over-canopi'd 

2ji A Midfummer Night's Dream. 

SCENE II. Another Part of the Wood. 

Enter TITANIA, aad'Fairies. 
Tif. Come, now a roundel, and a fairy fong; 
Then, for the third part of a minute, hence : 
Some, to kill cankers in the mufk-rose buds; 
Some, war with rear-mice for their leathern wines, 
To make my fmall elves coats ; and fome, keep back 
The clamorous owl, that nightly hoots, and wonders 
At our quaint fpirits: Sing me now afleep; 
Then to your offices, and let me reft. SONG. 

Firil Fairy. 
Ycujpottedfnakes, with double tongue, 

thorny hedge- hogs, be notfeen; 
newts, and blind-worms, do no 'wrong ; 
ctme not near our fairy queen; 


Philomel, 'with melody, 
Jtng in our f wee t lullaby ; 
Ma, lulla, lullaby ; Ma, lulla, lullaby : 
never harm, nor jpell, nor charm, 
tome our lovely laay nigh ; 
Jo, good night, with lullaby. 

Second Fairy. 
Wea Tj'mg fpiders, come not here; 

.hence, you long- leg 'djpinners, hence: 
beetles black, approach not near; 
worm, nor Jnail, do no offence; 


Philomel, with melody, &c. 
I . F. Hence, away ; now all is well : 
One, aloof, ftand centinel. [Exeunt. Tit.JZeeft. 

A Midfummcr Nigbfs fiream. - 25 

Enter OBERON. 
QBE. What thou fee'ft, when thou doft wake, 

[/o Tit. Squeezing the F/o-iuer upon her Eye-lids. 
Do it for thy true love take ; 
Love, and languifh for his fake: 
Be it ounce, or cat, or bear, 
Pard, or boar with briftl'd hair, 
In thy eye that (hall appear 
When thou wak'il, it is thy dear; 
Wake, when fome vile thing is near. [Exit. 

Enter LYSANDER, and HEX. MI A. 
Lrs. Fair love you faint with wand'ring in the wood ; 
And, to fpeak troth, I have forgot our way: 
We'll reft us, Hermia, if you think it good, 
And tarry for the comfort of the day. 
HER. Be it fo, Lyfander: find you out a bed, 
For I upon this bank will reft my head. 

Lrs. One turf fhall ferve as pillow for us both; 
One heart, one bed, two bosoms, and one troth. 

HER. Nay, good LyfanJe r ; for my fake, my dear, 
Lye further off yet, do not lye fo near. 

Lrs. O, take the fenfe, fweet, of my innocence; 
Love takes the meaning, in love's conference. 
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit; 
So tha,; but one heart can we make of it: 
Two bosoms interchained with an oath; 
So then, two bosoms, and a fingle troth. 
Then, by your fide no bed-room me deny; 
For, lying fo, Hermia, I do not lie. 

HER. Lyfander riddles very prettily: 
Now much befhrew my manners, and my pride, 
If Hermia meant to fay, Lyjtwder ly'd. 

26 A Midfummer Nig'at's Dream. 

But, gentle friend, for love and courtefy 
Lye further off; in human modefty_ 
Such feperation, as, may well be laid, 
Becomes a virtuous batchelor and a maid : ^ 
So far be diftant; and good night, fweet friend: 
Thy love ne'er alter, 'till thy fweet life end ! 

Z,rs. Amen, amen, to that fair prayer, fay I; 
And then end life, when I end loyalty! 
Here is my bed : Sleep give thee all his reft ! 

HER. With half that wilh the wither 's eyes be prefTd ! 

Enter PUCK. 
Pvc. Through the forefl have I gone; 

But Athenian found I none, 

On whose eyes I might approve 

This flower's force in fUrring love. 

Night and filence! who is here? 

Weeds of Athens he doth wear: 

This is he, my mafler faid, 

Pefpised the Athenian maid ; 

And here the maiden, fleeping found, 

On the dank and dirty ground. 

Pretty foul, (he durft not lye 

Near to this kill-courtefy. 

Churl, upon thy eyes~j~I throw 

All the power this charm doth owe: 

When thou wak'ft, let love forbid 

Sleep his feat on thy eye-lid. 

So awake, when I am gone; 

For I muft now to Oberon. [Exit. 

Enter DEMETRIUS, ^WHELENA, running. 
HfL. Stay though thou kill me, fweet Demetrius. 

*4 Ncere this lack-love, this 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 27 

DEM. I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus. 

HEL. O, wilt thou darkling leave me? do not fo. 

DEM. Stay, on thy peril; 1 alone will go. 


HEL. O, I am out of breath, in this fond chace! 
The more my prayer, the leflsr is my grace. 
Happy is Hermia, \vherefoe'er (he lies; 
For ihe hath blefied, and attractive eyes. 
How came her eyes fo bright? Not with fait tears: 
If fo, my eyes are oftner wam'd than hers. 
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear; 
For beafts, that meet me, run away for fear : 
Therefore, no marvel, though Demetrius 
Do, as a monfter, fly my presence thus. 
What wicked and disenabling glafs of mine 
Made me compare with Hernia's fphery even? 
But who is here? Lyfander! on the ground! 
Dead? or afleep? 1 fee no blood, no wound :__ 
Lyfander, if you live, good fir, awake. 

Lrs. And run through fire I will, for thy fweet fake. 
[fwaking, and ftariing up. 
Tranfparent Helena ! Nature mews art, 
That through thy bosom makes me fee thy heart. 
Where is Demetrius? o, how fit a word 
Is that vile name, to periih on my fsvord ! 

HEL. Do not fay fo, Lyfander\ fay not fo: 
What though he love your Hermia? Lord, what though ? 
Yet Hermia ftill loves you : then be content. 

Lrs. Content with Hermia? No; I do repent 
The tedious minutes I with her have fpent. 
Not Hermia, but Helena I love : 
Who will not change a raven for a dove? 

2 8 A MJfummer Nigbfs Dream. 

The will of man is by his reason fway'd : 
And reason fays, you are the worthier maid. 
Things growing are not ripe until their feason : 
So 1, being young, 'till now ripe not to reason; 
And touching now the point of human {kill, 
Reason becomes the marfhal to my will; 
And leads me to your eyes; where I o'er-look 
Love's ftories, written in love's richeft book. 

HtL. Wnerefore was I to this keen mockery born? 
When, at your hands, did 1 deserve this fcorni 
Js't not enough, is't not enough, young man, 
That I did never, no, nor never can, ( 

Deserve a fweet look from Demetrius' eye, 
But you muft flout my icfufficiency? 
Good troth, you do me wrong, good footh, you do> 
Jn <uch dildainful manner me to woo. 
But, fare you well: perforce 1 muft confefs, 
I thought you lord of more true gentlenefs. 
O, that a lady, of one man refus'd, 
Should, of another, therefore be abus'd ! [Exit. 

Lrs., She fees sotHtrmia: Hermia, fleepthou there; 

And never may'ft thou come Ly/ana'er near I 

For, as a furfeit of the fweeteft things 

The deepeft loathing to the Itomach brings; 

Or, as the herefies, that men do leave, 

Are hated moft of those they did deceive; 

So thou, my furfeit, and my herefy, 

Of all be hated; but the moft, of me: 

And, all my powers, addrefs your love and might, 

To honour Helen, and to be her knight. \Extt. 

HER. \flarting.~\ He]pme,Ly/iinder, helpme'.dothy bell 
To pluck this crawling ferpe'nt from my breaft! 

A Midfummer Night's Dream* 23 

Ah me, for pity! what a dream was here? 

Lyfander, look, how I do quake with fear: 

Methought, a ferpent eat my heart away, 

And you fat fmiling at his cruel prey: 

Ly fonder! what, remov'dr Lyfan-ter! lord! 

What, out of hearing? pone r no found, no word? 

Alack, where are you r fpeak, an if you hear; 

Speak of all loves. I fwoon almoft with fear. 

Nor then I well perceive you are not nigh: 

Or death, or you, I'll find immediately. [Exit. 


SCENE I. The fame. 

Q^ieen cf Fairies a/lwp. Enter QUINCE, SNUG, 

Bar. Are we all met? 

Qui. Pat, pat; and here's a marvels con\ r enient place 
for our rehearfal: This green plot (hall be our ftage, 
this hauthorn brake our tyring houfe; and we will do 
it in a<ftion, as we will do it before the duke. 

BoT. Peter Quince, 

Qui. What lay'ft thou, bully Bottom ? 

BoT. There are things in this comedy, of Pyarxus 
and Thiiby, that will never please. Firit, Pyrafnus mult 
draw a fword to kill himfelf; which the ladies caunot 
abide. How anfwer you that? 

Stfo. By'r-lakin, a par'lous fear. 

Srj. I believe, we muft leave the killing out, when 
all is done. 

or. Not a whi v t; I have a device to make all well. 


jo A Miafummer XlgWs Dreart. 

Write me a prologue : and let the prologue feem to fay, 
we will do no harm with our fwords ; and that Pyramus 
is not kill'd indeed: and, for the more better aflurance, 
tell them, that I Pyramus am not Pyramus, but Bottom 
the weaver: This will put them out of fear. 

QV'I. Well, we will have fuch a prologue; and it fhall 
be written in eight and fix. 

Bar. No, make it two more; let it be written in 
eight and eight. 

Sxo. Will not the ladies be afeard of the lion? 

STA. I fear it, I promise you. 

of. Mailers, you ought to confider with yourfelves : 
to bring in, God fhield us! a lion among ladies, is a 
moft dfeadful thing: for there is not a more fearful 
wild-fowl, than your lion, living; and we ought to look 

SNO. Therefore, another prologue mud tell, he is not 
a lion. 

BoT. Nay, you mud name his name, and half his 
face mull be feen through the lion's neck; and he him- 
felf muft fpeak through, faying thus, or to the fame de- 
fed, Ladies, or, fair ladies, I would wilh you, or, I 
would requert you, or, I would entreat you, not to fear, 
not to tremble: my life for yours. If you think I come 
hither as a lion, it were pity of my life: No, I am no 
fuch thing; I am a man, as other men are: and there, 
indeed, let him name his name; and tell them plainly, 
he is Snug the joiner. 

$yi. Well, it mall be fo. But there is two hard 
things; that is, to bring the moon-light into a chamber: 
for, you know, Pjremus and Tbisbj meet by moon- 

A MiJfummer Night 's Dream. 31 

SNU. Doth the moon fhine that night we play our play ? 

EOT. A calendar, a calendar! look in the almanack; 
find out moon-mine, find out moon-fhine. 

>yi. Yes, it doth mine that night. 

Bor. Why, then may you leave a casement of the 
great chamber window, where we play, open; and the 
moon may fhine in at the casement. 

Qui. Ay; or elfe one muft come in with a bum of 
thorns and a lanthorn, and fay, he comes to diffigure, 
or to present, the perlbn of moon-fhine. Then, there is 
another thing: we mull have a wall in the great cham- 
ber; for Pjramus and Tbisby, lays the ilory, did talk 
through the chink of a wall. 

SNU. You can never bring in a wall What fay you, 
Bottom ? 

BOT. Some man or other muft present wall: and let 
him have fome plafter, or fome lome, or fome rough- 
caft, about him, to fignify wall; or let him hold his 
fingers thus"]", and through that cranny fhall Pyramus 
and Thiiby whifper. 

Qyi. If that may be, then all is well. Come, fit down, 

every mother's fon, and rehearfe your parts Pyramus, 

you begin : when you have fpoken your fpeech, enter 

into that brake; and fo every one according to his cue. 

Enter PUCK. [gering here," 

Puc. " What hempen home-fpuns have we fvvag- 
" So near the cradle of the fairy queen?" 
" What, a play toward? I'll be an auditor;" 
" An aclor too, perhaps, if I fee cause." 

>vi. Speak, Pyramus : -.T'biiby, ftand forth. 
* PTR . Thisby, the flower of odious favours fweet, . 

Qui. Odours, odours. 

J' flowers 

C 2 

* 2 A MiJfummer Nigkfs Dream. 

* p yK . odours favours fweett 

So doth thy breath, my cleared This by dear. 

* But, hark, a voice! ftay thou but here a whit, 

* And by and by I will to thee appear. [Exit. 
Puc. " Aftranger/>r*wthane'erplay'dhere.''[;>. 
FLU. Muft 1 fpeaknow? 

Qvi. Ay, marry, muft you: for, you muft under- 
ftand, he goes but to fee a noise that he heard, and is 
to come again. 

* THJ. Moft radiant Pjramas, moft lilly-white of hue, 
Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier, 

* Moft brifky juvenal, and eke moft lovely Jew, 

* As true as trueft horfe, that yet would never tire, 

* I'll meet thee, Pyratnus, at Ninnfs tomb. 

Qyi. Nifius'' tomb, man ? why, you muft not fpeak 
that yet; that you anfwer to Pjramus: you fpeak all 
your part at once, cues and all Pjramus, enter; your 
cue is paft; it is, never tire. [tire. 

* TBI. O, As true as trueft horfe, that yet would never 

Re-enter PUCK, and BOTTOM tn.<ith an a/i 1 Head. 

* PrR. If I were fair, Thiily, I were only thine: 
>yi. O oionftrous! o ftrange! we are haunted. Pray, 

mailers! fly, matters ! help ! [Exeunt all the Clowns. 

Puc. " I'll follow you; I'll lead you about a round," 

" Through bog, through buih, through brake, through 
" Sometime a horfe I'll be, fometime a hound," [brier:" 

" A hog, a headlefs bear, fometime a fire;" 
*' And neigh, and bark, and grant, and roar, and burn," 
" Like horfe, hound, hog, bear, fire at every turn." [Exit. 

Bof. Why do they run away: tkis is a knavery of 
them, to make me afeard. 

Re-enter SNOUT. 

* So hath thy J a while, 

A MiJfnmmer Night's Dream. 3 3 

SNO. O Bottom, thou art chang'd! what do I fee on 
thee? [Exit. 

BoT. What do you fee? you fee an afs' head of your 
own; Do you? 

Re-enter QUINCE. 

Qyi. Blefs thee, Bottom! blefs thee! thou art tranf- 
lated. [Exit. 

Bof. I fee their knavery: this is to make an afs of 
me; to fright me, if they could. But I will not itir from 
this place, do what they can: I will walk up and down 
here, and I will fing, that they fliall hear 1 am not 

The ouzel cock, fo black of hue, 

with orange- tawny bill, 
the throftle --uj'-ih bis note fo true, 

the wre>: with little quill', 

TiT. What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed? 
BoT. -the finch, the fparrozu, and the lark, 

the plain-Jong cuckoo gray, 
whose note full many a man doth mark, 

and dares not anjiusr, na\ ; 

for, indeed, who would let his wit to fo foolim a 
bird? who \vouid give a bird the lie, though he cry, 
cuckoo, never fo? 

TIT. I pray thee, gentle mortal, fing again: 
Mine ear is much enamour'd of thy note, 
So is mine eye enthralled to thy fhape; 
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me, 
On the firft view, to fay, to fwear, I love thee. 

BoT. Methinks, miltrefs, you mould have little rea- 
son for that: And yet, to fay the truth, reason and love 
keep little company together novv-a-days: The more the 

34 A Wdfummer Night's Dream. 

pity, that fome honeft neighbours will not make them 
friends. Nay, 1 can gleek, upon occasion. 

TiT. Thou art as wise, as thou art beautiful. 

EOT. Not fo, neither: but if I had wit enough to 
get out of this wood, I have enough to ferve mine own 

Tir. Out of this wood do not desire to go; 
Thou (halt remain here, whether thou wilt or no. 
1 am a fpirit, of no common rate; 
The fummer ftill doth tend upon my ftate, 
And I do love thee: therefore, go with me; 
I'll give thee fairies to attend on thee; 
And they fhall fetch thee jewels from the deep, 
And fmg, while thou on prefled flowers doft fleep: 
And 1 will purge thy mortal groflhefs fo, 
That thou malt like an airy fpirit go._ 
Peaie-bkfom, Cobweb, Moth, and Muflard-feed! 
Enter jour Fairies. 

I. F. Ready. 2. And I. 3. and I. 4. and I. 

alL Where fhall we go? 

Tif. Be kind and courteous to this gentleman ; 
Hop in his walks, and gambol in his eyes; 
Feed him with apricocks, and dewberries, 
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; 
The honey-bags fleal from the humble-bees, 
And, for night tapers, crop their waxen thighs, 
And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, 
To have my love to bed, and to arise; 
And pluck the wings from painted butter-flies, 
To fan the moon-beams from his fleeping eyes : 
Nod to him, elves, and do him courtefies. 

i. F. Hail, mortal! 2. hail! 3. hail! 4. hail! 

3* v. Nttt. 

A M'ulfummer Night's Dream. 3 5 

Bof. I cry your worfhips mercy, heartily. _ I be-, 
feech, your worihip's name ? 

COB. Cobweb. 

Bof. I lhall desire you of more acquaintance, good 
malter Cobweb : If I cut my finger, I ihall make bold 
with you Your name, honeft gentleman I 

PEA. Pease-bloJ/om. 

BoT. I pray you, commend me to miftrefs Squajh> 
your mother, and to mailer Pea/cod, your father. Good 
mailer Pease-blojfom, I fhall desire you of more acquaint- 
ance too Your name, I befeech you, fir? 

Mus. Muftard-jetd. 

BOT. Good mailer Mu, lard-feed, I know your pat'ence 
well: that fame cowardly, giant-like, ox-beef hath de- 
vour'd many a gentleman of your houie : 1 promise 
you, your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. 
I desire you, more acquaintance, good mailer Mujlard- 

TiT. Come, wait upon him; lead him to my bower. 

The moon, methinks, looks with a watry eye; 
And when (he \veeps, weeps every little flower, 

Lamenting fome enforced chaitity. 

Tye up my love's tongue, bring him filently. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. Another Part of the Wood. 

Enter OB E RON. 

OSE. I wonder, \iTitania be awak'd; 
Then, what it was that next came in her eye, 
Which fh.e mult dote on in extremity. 
Enter PUCK. 

Here comes my mefienger How now, mad fpirit? 

What night-rule now about this haunted grove? 

*J lovers 

3 6 A Mid'ummer Sight's Dream. 

Pvc. My miflrefs with a monfler is in love. 
Near to her clofe and ccr.feciated bower, 
While me was in her dull and fleeping hour, 
A crew of patches rude mechanicals, 
That work for bread upon Athenian frails, 
Were met together to rehearfe a play, 
Intended fcr"great Trims' nuptial day. 
The ftalloivelt thick-fkin of that barren fort, 
Who Pyamus presented, in their fport 
Fcrfook his fcene, and enter'd in a brake : 
When I did him at this advantage take, 
An afs's nole I fixed on his head ; 
Anon, kisTiis6e mult be anfwered, 
And forth my mimick comes: When they him fpy, 
As wild-geefe, that the creeping fowler eye, 
Or ruflet-pated choughs, many in fort, 
Rising and cawing at the gun's report 
Sever themfdves, and madiy fweep the iky ; 
So, at his fight, away his fellows fly : 
And, at cur ftamp, here o'er and o'er one falls; 
He rnurther cries, and help from Athens calls. 
Their fenfe, thus weak, loll with their fears, thus ftrong, 
Made ftnfelefs things begin to do them wrong: 
For briars and thorns at their apparel fnatch ; 
Some, fleevcs ; fome, hats : from yielders all things catch. 
J led them on in thio diflracltd fear, 
And left fwcet Pyramus translated there: 
When in that moment (fo it came to pafs) 
Jitania wak'd, and ftraitway lov'd an afs. 

GEE. 1 his falls out better than 1 could devise. 
But hail thcu ytt lech'd the Athenians eyes 
With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do? 

3' latht 

A Micfummcr Digit's Dream. 37 

Pvc. I took him fi'sr''"-?, that is finifti'd too, 

And the Athenian wo.;: : n bv his ficle; 

That, when he wi'k'd, of force ftie mull be ey'd. 

Er-'e- !".' r : i E T R i u s, a/;</ HE s. M i A . 
OBF.. " Sense cW. fKis i.; the l:b;::ian" 
Pvc. " Thi:- ; , Lut r.ot this the man." 

D;./. O, v<V rebuke y..-;j ;~.ini that loves you fo? 

Lay brcnt'i f>> i:;.':. r on yur bitter foe. 
HER. Iv'o-.v I but chUle, but I should use thee worfej 

For th -'.?. I :'.?,-, hrl oivcn m^ cause to cuife. 
iii Ir.i flccp, 

Beinq- o'er inoes i.i blood, p'unge in the deep, 

An ill rre tco 

The lu.i was not fo true unto the day, 

As he LO tr>e: V/c-u'd ne have ; '! r>\vay 

Fr:ni ..'.cpi; ^Hir^ia ? I'll believe as loon, 

This \vholj varth may be bor d; and that the moon 

May thr. i.'gh the center creep, and ib diiplease 

Her brotiet's n.- ',-..ti. : c with the antipodes. 

It cannct be, but thr.u halt mnit'ier'd him; 

So iTiould a murtherer lo^k, f;> dead, fo grim. 

DEM. So :oald the rr-urti-f .-rV. Iviok; and fo (hould I, 

Pierc'd thi'.ugh the heart v/i*:h your ftern cruelty: 

Yet you, the -nurtherer, lock as b;ight, as clear, 

As yonder l\':us in her giiir."',-- :ii>' fphere. 

HR. vV 'i-.t's this to my L\j*,id / ? where is he? 

Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me? 

DEM. I had rather t.ive his carcafs to my hounds 
HER. Out, dog! out, cur! thou driv'lt me pall the 

Of maiden's patience. Haft thou flaia him then ? 

Henceforth be never number'd among men ! 

^ 8 A Mcfttmmer Kigbfs Dream. 

O, once till true, tell true, even for my fake; 
Durft tbou have Icok'd upon him, being awake, 
.And hail thcu fcill'd him fleepingr O brave touch! 
Could not a \\crm, an adder, do fo much? 
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue 
Than thine, thcu ferpent, never adder ftung. 

DEM. You fpend your paffion on a mifpriz'd mood : 
I am not guilty ofLy/an&r's blood; 
Nor is he dead, for ought that I can tell. 

HER. 1 pray thee, tell me then that he is well. 

DEM. An if I could, what mould I get therefore? 

HER. A priviledge, never to fee me more. 
And from thy hated presence part I fo: 
See me no more, whether he be dead, or no. [Errt. 

DEM. There is no following her in this fierce vein: 
Here, therefore, for a while I will remain. 
So forrow's heavinefs doth heavier grow, 
For debt that bankrupt Ceep doth forrow owe; 
Which now in fome flight measure it will pay, 
If for his tender here I make fome fiav. \lies down* 

QBE. What hail thou done? thou haft miitaken quite, 
And lay'd the love-juice on fome true-love's fight: 
Of thy mifprision muft perforce enfue 
Some true love turn'd, and not a falfe turn'd true. 

Puc Then fateo'er-rules; that, oneman holding trotli, 
A million fail, confounding oath on oath. 

QEE. Abcut the wood go fwifter than the wind, 
And Helena oi Athens look thou find : 
AH fancy-fick (he is, and pale of cheer 
With fighs of Jove, that cofts the frefn. blood dear: 
By fome illusion fee thou bring her here ; 
I'll charm his eyes, againtt flic do appear. 

18 flippe doth 

A MiJfummer Night's Drea *. 39 

Puc. I go, I g> look, how I go; 

Swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow. [E.r:V. 

O/JE. Flower of this purple dye, 
Hit with Cupid's archery^ 
S'nk~j~in apple of his eye: 
When his love he doth efpy, 
Let her mine as glorioufly 
As the Venus of the fky. _ 
When thou xvak'lt, if me be by, 
Beg of her for remedy. 

Re-enter PUCK. 

Puc. Captain of our fairv band, 
Helena is here at hand ; 
And the youth, miftock by me, 
Pleading for a lover's fee; 
Shall we their fond pageant fee? 
Lord, what fools these mortals be! 
QBE, Stand afide: ihe noise, they make, 
Will cause Demetrius to awake. 
Puc. Then will two, at once, woo one; 
That mult needs be fport alone: 
And those things do beft please me, 
That befal prepoiteroufly. 

Enter L Y SANDER, and HELENA. 
ir?. Why ihould you think, that Ithould woo infcorn? 

Scorn and demion never come in tears: 
Look, when I vow, 1 weep; and vows fo born, 

In their nativity all truth appears. 
How can trn-se things in me feem fcorn to you, 
Bearing the badge of faith to prove them true? 

//EZ. You do advance your cunning more and more. 
When truth kills truth, o devililh-holy fray! 

^O A Midfummer Night's Dream. 

These vows are Hermias ; Will you give her o'er ? 

Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: 
Your vows, to her and me, put in two fcales, 
Will even weigh ; and both as light as tales. 

Zrs. I had no judgment, when to her 1 fwore. 

HEL. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o'er. 

Lrs. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you. 

DEM. O Helen, [ftartingup.] goddefs, nymph, perfect, 
To what, my love, (hall 1 compare thine eyen ? [divine ! 
Chriftal is muddy. O, how ripe in (how 
Thy lips, those kifling cherries, tempting grow ! 
That pure congealed white, high Taurus* (how, 
Fan'd with the eaftern wind, turns to a crow. 
When thou hold'ft up thy hand: o, let me kifs 
This princefs of pure white, this feal of blifs ! 

HEL. O fpite! o hell! I fee, you all are bent 
To fet againft me, for your merriment. 
If you were civil, and knew courrefy, 
You would not do me thus much injury. 
Can you not bate me, as [ know you do, 
But you muftjoin, in fouls, to mock me too? 
If you were men, as men you are in (how, 
You would not use a gentle lady fo; 
To vow, and fwear, and fuperpraise my parts, 
When I am fure you hate me with your hearts. 
You both are rivals, and love Herm:a ; 
And now, both rivals, to mock Helena: 
A trim exploit, a manly enterprize, 
To conjure tears up in a poor maid's eyes, 
With your derision- none, of noble fort, 
Would fo offend a virgin; and extort 
A poor foul's patience, all to make you (port. 

A MiJfummer Nigh? } i Dream. 41 

Lrs. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not fo; 
For you loveHermia; this you know I know: 
And here, with all good will, with all my heart, 
In Hermias love 1 yield you up my part; 
And yours of Helena to me bequeath, 
Whom I do love, and will do to my death. 

HEL. Never did mockers walle more idle breath. 

DEM. Lyfander, keep thy Hermia ; I will none: 
If e'er I lov'd her, all that love is gone. 
My heart with her but, as guefl-wise, fojourn'd ; 
And now to Helen is it home return'd, 
There to remain. 

Lrs. Helen, it is not fo. 

DEM. Difparage not the faith thou doft not know, 
Left, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. 
Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear. 
Enter HERMIA. 

HER . Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, 
The ear more quick of apprehenfion makes ; 
Wherein it doth impair the feeing fenfe, 

It pays the hearing double recompence: 

Thou art not by mine eye, Lyfander, found ; 
Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy found. 
But why unkindly didft thou leave me fo? 

Lrs. Why fhouldhe flay, whom love dothprefs to go? 

HER. What love could prefs Lyfandtr from my fide? 

Irs. Lyfanders love, that would not let him bide, 
fair Helena; who more engilds the night 
Than all yon' fiery o's, and eyes of light. 
Why feek'fl thou me? could not this make thee know, 
The hate I bare thee made me leave thee fo? 

HER, You fpeak not as you think, it cannot be. 

heart to her 

4 2 A Wdfummer Eight t Dream. 

HEL. Lo, fte is one of this confed'racy! 
Now 1 perceive they have conjoin'd, ail three, 
To faihion this falfe fport in fpite of me._ 
Injurious Hermia! moil ungrateful maid! 
Have you confpir'd, have you with these contriv'd, 
To bait me with this foul derision r 
Is all the counfel that we two have ftiar'd. 
The fifter vows, the hours that we have fper.t, 
When we have chid the hafty-feoted time 
For parting us, o, and is all forgot? 
.All (chcoi-day friendihip, childhood innocence? 
We, Hernia, like two artificial gods, 
Have with our needles created both one flower, 
Both on one fampler, fitting on one cufhion, 
Both warbling of one fong, both in one key ; 
As if our hands, and fides, voices, and minds, 
Had been incorporate. So we grew together, 
Like to a double cherry, feeming parted ; 
But yet a union in partition, 
Two lovely berries molded on one ftem : 
So, with two feeming bodies, but one heart; 
Two of the firft, like coats in heraldry, 
Due but to one, and Crowned with one creft. 
And will you rent our ancient love afunder, 
To join with men in fcorning your poor friend? 
Jt is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly: 
Cur fex, as well as I, may chide you for it; 
Though 1 alone do feel the injury. 

HER. I am amazed at your paluonate words: 
I fcorn you not; It feems, that you fcorn me. 

HEL. Have you not faLyfandtr, as in fcorn, 
To follow me, and praise my eyes and facer 

S fillers " fchcoldaies *s rft life coats 

A MiJfummcr Night 'j Dream. 

.And made your other love, Dewetrtitr, 

(Who even but now did fpurn me with his foot) 

To call me goddefs, nymph, divine, and rare, 

Precious, celeftial ? Wherefore fpeaks he this 

To her he hates? and wierefore doth Lyfanckr 

Deny your love, fo rich within his foul, 

And tender me, forfooth, afFefiion; 

But by your fetting on, by your confent ? 

What though 1 be net To in grace as you, 

So Bang upon with loves, fo fortunate; 

But miserable moft, to lave unlov'd? 

This ycu fliould pity, rather than defpise. 

HER. 1 understand not what you mean by this. 

HEL. Ay, do, perfever, counterfeit fid looks, 
Make mouths upon me when 1 turn my back, 
Wink each at other, hold the_ fweet jeft up: 
This fport, well carry'd, (hall be chronicl'd. 
If you have any pity, grace, or manners, 
You would not make me fuch' an argument. 
Bat, fare ye well: 'tis partly mine fault; 
Which death, or abfence, fbon fhall remedy. 

Lrs. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excufe; 
My love, my life, my foal, fair Helena! 

HEL. O excellent! 

HER. Sweet, [to Lyf] do not fcorn her fa. 

DEM. If (lie cannot entreat, T can compel. 

Lrs. Thou canft compel no more than (he entreat 
Thy threats have no more Hrength, than her weak pray?-. 
Helen, I love thee; by my life, [ do; 
1 iwear by that which I will lose for thee, 
To prove him falfe, that fays I love thee not. 

DEM, I fay, I love thee more than he can da. 

10 l ovc> jS v.-eake praife. 

idj ummer Night's Dream. 

Lrs. If thou fay fo, withdraw, and prove it too. 

DEM. Quick, come, 

HER. Lyjander, whereto tends all this? 

Lrs. Away, you Ethiop! 

DEM. No, no; he'll net tcmc 
Seem to break loofe; take on, as you would follow; 
But yet, come not: You are a tame man, go! 

Lrs . Hang oft, thou cat, thou bur : vile thing, let loofe ; 
Or I will (hake thee from me, like a ferpent. 

HER. Why are you grown fo ruder what change isthis, 
Sweet love ? 

Lrs. Thy lover out, tawny Tartar, cut ! 
Out, loathed med'cine! hated potion, hence! 

HER. Do you not jeft? 

HEL. Yes, 'footh; and fo do you. 

Lrs. Demetrius, I wijl keep my word with thee. 

DEM. I would, I had your bond: for, 1 perceive, 
A weak bond holds you; I'll not trull your word; 

Lrs. What, fhouidlhiirther,ftrikeher,killherdead? 
Although I hate her, I'll not harm her fo. 

r, ER. What, can you do me greater harm, than hate? 
Hate me! wherefore: O me! what news, my love? 
Am not 1 Hermia? Are not you Lyjander? 
] am as fair now, as I was erewhile. 
Since night, youlov'd me; yet, finceni^ht, you left me: 
Why, then you left me, O, the gods forbid! 
In earneft, fhall 1 fay? 

Lrs. Ay, by my life; 
And never did desire to fee thee more. 
Therefore, be out of hope, of queftion, doubt, 
Be certain, nothing truer, 'tis no jeft, 
That I do hate thee, and love Helena. 

13 6 hated 3 cf doubt 

A Midfummer Ntgbfs Dream. 45 

HER. O me!_You jugler, poit! youcanker-bloflbm! 
You thief of love! what, have you come by night, 
And ftoln my love's heart from him ? 

HE i. Fine, i'faith! 

Have you no modefty, no maiden ftiame, 
No touch of bafhfulnefs? What, will you tear 
Impatient anfwers from my gentle tongue ? 
Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you! 

HER . Puppet ! why fo ? Ay, that way goes the game. 
Now 1 perceive that (he hath made compare ' 
Between our ftatures, me hath urg'd her height; 
And with her perfonage, her tall perfonage, 
Her height, forfooth, me hath prevail'd with him.__ 
And are you grown fo high in his efteem, 
Because I am fo dwarfim, and fo low ? 
How low am I, thou painted may-pole? fpeak; 
How low am 1 ? I am not yet fo low, 
But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. 

HEL. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, 
Let her not hurt me: 1 was never curd; 
I have no gift at all in fhrewifhnefs ; 
I am a right maid for my cowardice; 
Let her not ftrike me: You, perhaps, may think, 
Because {he's fomething lower than myfelf, 
That I can match her. 

HER. Lower! hark, again. 

HEL. Good Hernia, do not be fo bitter with me. 
I evermore did love you, Hermia, 
Did ever keep your counfels, never wrong'd you; 
Save that, in love unto Demetrius, 
I told him of your Health unto this wood. 
He follow'd you; for love, 1 follow'd him. 


46 A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

But he hath chid me hence; and threaten'd me 
To flrike me, fpurn me, nay, to kill me too : 
And now, fo you will let me quiet go, 
To Athens will I bear my folly back, 
And follow you no further: Let me go: 
You fee how iimple and how fond I am. 

HER. Why, get you gone : Who is't that hinders you? 

HEL. A foolifh heart, that I leave here behind. 

HER. What, with Lyjander? 

HEL. With Demetrius. 

Lrs. Be not afraid; me fhall not harm thee, Helena. 

DIM. No, fir; me mail not, though you take her part. 

HEL. O, when flic's angry, flie is keen and fhrewd : 
She was a vixen, when (he went to fchool ; 
And, though (he be but little, me is fierce. 

HER. Little again? nothing but low, and little? 
Why will you fuffer her to flout me thus i 
Let me come to her. 

Lrs. Get you gone, you dwarf; 
You minimus, of hind'ring knot-grafs made ; 
You bead, you acorn. 

DEM. You are too officious, 
In her behalf that fcorns your fervices. 
Let her alone; fpeak not of Helena; 
Take not her part : for if thou doft intend 
Never fo little fhew of love to her, 
Thou {halt aby it. 

Lrs. Now flie holds me not; 
Now follow, if thou dar'ft, to try whose right, 
Of thine or mine, is moft in Helena. 

DEM. Follow? nay, I'll go with thee, cheek by jowl. 

A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 47 

fex. You, miftrefs, all this coil is 'long of you: 
Nay, go not back. 

HEL. 1 will not truft you, I; 
Nor longer ftay in your curft company. 
Your hands, than mine, are quicker for a fray; 
My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit. 

HER. I am amaz'd, and know not what to fay. [Exit. 

QBE. This is thy negligence: ftill thou millak'ft, 
Or elfe commit'ft thy knaveries wilfully. 

Puc. Believe me, king of Ihadows, I miftook. 
Did not you tell me, I mould know the man 
By the Athenian garments he had on ? 
And fo far blamelefs proves my enterprize, 
That I have 'nointed an Athenians eyes : 
And fo far am I glad it fo did fort, 
As this their jangling I efteem a fport. 

ORE. Thou fee'ft, these lovers feek a place to fight : 
Hye therefore, Robin, overcaft the night ; 
The Harry welkin cover thou anon 
With drooping fog, as black as Acheron ; 
And lead these tefty rivals fo aftray, 
As one come not within another's way. 
Like to Lyfandfr fometime frame thy tongue, 
Then flir Demetrius up with bitter wrong ; 
And fometime rail thou like Demetrius ; 
And from each other look thou lead them thus, 
'Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting fleep 
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: 
Then crum this ^ herb into Lyfander's eye; 
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, 
To take from thence all error, with his might, 
And make his eye-balls rowl with wonted fight. 


48 A Midfummtr Night's Dream. 

When they next wake, all this derision 

Shall feem'a dream, and fruitlefs vision; 

And back to Athens lhall the lovers wend, 

With league, whose date 'till death fhall never end. 

Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, 

I'll to my queen, and beg \\tt Indian boy; 

And then I will her charmed eye releafe 

From monfter's view, and all things fhall be peace. 

Puc. My fairy lord, this muft be done with hafte; 
For night's fwift dragons cut the clouds full faft, 
And yonder ftiines Aurora's harbinger; 
At whose approach, ghofts, wand'ring here and there, 
Troop home to church-yards: damned fpirits all, 
That in crofs-ways and floods have burial, 
Already to their wormy beds are gone; 
For fear left day mould look their fhames upon, 
They wilfully themfelves exile from light, 
And muft for aye confort with black-brow'd night. 

QBE. But we are fpirits of another fort : 
I with the morning's love have oft made fport ; 
And, like a forefter, the groves may tread, 
Even 'till the eaftern gate, all fiery red, 
Opening on Neptune with fair blefled beams, 
Turns into yellow gold his falt-green ftreams. 
But, notwithftanding, hafte; make no delay: 
We may efFeft this businefs yet ere day. ' [Exit. 

Puc. Up and down, up and down, 
I will lead them up and down : 
I am fear'd in field, and town ; 
Goblin, lead them up and down. 
Here comes one. 


A Midfummer Night's Dream. 49 

Lrs.. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? fpeak them 

Puc. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou? 

Lrs. I will be-with thee ftraight. 

Puc. Follow me then [feems to gooff". 

To plainer ground. [Exit L Y s . as following the Voice, -which 

DEM. Lyfander! fpeak again. 
Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? 
Speak. In fome bufli? Where doft thou hide thy head? 

Puc. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the ftars, 
Telling the bufhes that thou look'ft for wars, 
And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child; 
I'll whip thee with a rod : He is defil'd, 
That draws a fword on thee. 

DEM. Yea; art thou there? 

Puc. Follow my voice; we'll try no manhood here. 
[Exeunt PUCK, and DEMETRIUS". 
Re-enter LYSANDER. 

Lrs. He goes before me, and ftill dares me on; 
When I come where he calls, then he is gone. 
The villain is much lighter heel'd, than 1: 
I follow'd faft, but falter he did fly; 
That fall'n am 1 in dark uneven way, 
And here will reft me. \lies doiun~\ Come, thou gentleday! 
For if but once thou (hew me thy grey light, 
I'll find Demetrius, and revenge this fpight. [Jleeps. 

Re-enter PUCK, and DEMETRIUS. 

Puc. Ho, ho; ho, f)o! coward, why com'ft thou not? 

DEM. Abide me, if thou dar'ft: for well I wot, 
Thou run'ft before me, fhifting every place ; 
And dar'ft not ftand, nor look me in the face. 

1 Speake in. 

50 JMMfummtr Night's Dream. 

Where art thou now? 

Pvc. Come hither; I am here. [dear, 

DEM Nay, then thou mock'ft me. Thou flialt buy this 
If ever I thy face by day-light fee: 

Now, go thy way Faintnefs conftraineth me 

To measure out my length on this cold bed. [lies down. 
By day's approach look to be visited. \Jleeps. 

Enter HELENA, and thr -o-ws herf elf down. 
HEL. O weary night, o long and tedious night, 

Abate thy hours; mine, comforts, from the eaft; 
That I may back to Athens, by day-light, 

From these that my poor company deteft : _ 
And, fleep, that fometime fhuts up forrow's eye, 
Steal me a while from mine own company. \Jleept* 

Pvc. Yet but three ? come one more ; 
Two of both kinds makes up four. 
Here me comes, curft, and fad : 
Cupid \s a knavifh lad, 
Thus to make poor females mad. 

Enter HER MI A. 
HER. Never fo weary, never fo in woe, 

Bedabbl'd with the dew, and torn with briers ; 
I can no further crawl, no further go ; 

My legs can keep no pace with my desires. 
Here will I reft me, [lies down} 'till the break of day. 
Heavens ihield Lyfander, if they mean a fray ! [Jleeps. 
Pvc. On the ground 

[to Lyfander, 'whose Eyes he anoints, 
Sleep tf/ou found : 
I'll apply 
t!To your eye, 
Gentle lover, remedy. 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 5 1 

When thou wak'ft 
/2ejrt, thou tak'ft ' 
True delight 
In the fight 

Of thy former lady's eye: 
And the country proverb known, 
That every man mould take his own, 
In your waking (hall be mown : 
2W mall have 7///; 
Nought (hall go ill; 

The man mall have his mare again, and all fliall be well. 
[Exit. Scene closes upon the Sleepers. 


SCENE I. The fame. 

The Lovers, at a Dijlance, afleep. 

Enter Queen of Fairies, and BOTTOM, Fairies 

attending ; O B E R o N , behind, unfeen. 

"TiT. Come, fit thee down upon this flow'ry bed, 

[feat ing him on a Bank. 
While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, 
And ftick mufk-roses in thy {leek fmooth head, 

And kifs thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. 
Bor. Where's Pease- bloflbm? 
PF.A. Ready. 

EOT. Scratch my head, P^^-^/^COT._ Where's moun- 
eur Cobweb? 
COB, Ready. 

Bor. Mounfieur Cobweb ; good mounfieur, get your 
weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipt humble- 

52 A Uiafummer Nigbt'f Dream. 

bee, on the top of a thiflle ; and, good mounfieur, bring 
me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourfelf too much in 
the adlion, mounfieur : and, good mounfieur, have a 
care the honey- bag break not; I would be loth to have 
you over-flown with a honey-bag, fignior. _ Where's 
mounfieur Muflard-feedf 
Mus. Ready. 

JBoT. Give me your neafe, mounfieur Muftard-fetd. 
Pray you, leave your courtefy, good mounfieur. 

Mus. What's your will? 

BoT. Nothing, good mounfieur, but to help cavalero 
Cobweb to fcratch. I rauft to the barber's, mounfieur; 
for, methinks, I am marvels hairy about the face: and 
I am fuch a tender afs, if my hair do but tickle me, I 
muft fcratch. 

fir. What,wiltthouhearfcmemusick,myfweetlove? 

BoT. I have a reasonable good ear in musick: Let 
us have the tongs, and the bones. 

TIT. Or, fay, fweet love, what thou desir'ft to eat. 

BoT. Truly, a peck of provender ; I could munch 
your gcod dry oats. Methinks, I have a great desire to 
a bottle of hay: good hay, fweet hay, hath no fellow. 

T'IT. I have a vent'rous fairy, that fhall feek 
The fquirrel's hoard, and fetch thee tljenc new nuts. 

Bof. I had rather have a handful, or two, of dry'd 
pease. But, I pray you, let none of your people flir ine; 
I have an exposition of fleep come upon me. 

TiT. Sleep thou, and I will wir.d thec in my arms. 
Faults, be gone, and be all ways away. [Exeunt Fairies, 
So doth the wood- bine, the fweet honifuckle, 
Gentl) entwift, the female ivy fo 

. tfit ba:ky ftngers> ot chf elm. 

A Midfiimmer Night 's Dream. 5 3 

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! \theyjleep. 

Oberon advances. Enter PUCK. 
QBE. Welcome, good Robin. See'iUhou this fWeet fight? 
fjbevotHg the Queen, and Bottom. 
Her dotage now I do begin to pity. 
For meeting her of late, behind the wood, 
Seeking fweet favours for this hateful fool, 
I did upbraid her, and fall out with her: 
For (he his hairy temples then had rounded 
With coronet of frem and fragrant flowers; 
And that fame dew, which fometime on the buds 
Was wont to fwell, like round and orient pearls, 
Stood now within the pretty fiouriets' eyes, 
Like tears, that did their own difgrace bewail. 
When I had, at my pleasure, taunted her, 
And {he, in mild terms, beg'd my patience, 
I then did a(k of her her changeling child; 
Which ftraight (he gave me, and her fairy fent 
To bear him to my bower in fairy land. 
And, now 1 have the boy, I will undo 
This hateful im perfection of her eyes. 
And, gentle Puck, take this tranfformed fcalp. 
From oft the head oi tiiis Athenian fwain; 
That he awaking when the other do, 
May all to Athens back again repair, 
And think no more of this night's accidents, 
But as the fierce vexation of a dream. 
But firft I will reieafe the fairy queen. 

Be, as thou waft wont to be ; 

[touching her Eyes ixitb an Herb. 

See, as thou waic wont to fee : 

Dians bud o'er Cupid's flower 

3* builde, orCuj-ids 

54 d MiJfummer Night's Dream* 

Hath fuch force-and blefled power. 
Now, myTitania; wake you, my fweet queen. 
Tit. My Oberon! what visions have I feen! 
Methought, I was enamour'd of an afs. 
OBE. There ~|~ lies your love. 
TIT. How came these things to pafs ? 
O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now! 

OBE. Silence, a while. Robin, take off this head._ 

Titania, musick call; and ftrike more dead 
Than common fleep of all these five the fenfe. 

Tit. Musick, ho, musick; fuch as charmeth fleep! 
Pvc* Now, when thou wak'lt, with thine own fool's 

eyes peep. 
OBE. Sound, musick. [J} ill Mustek.] Come, my queen, 

take hands with me, 

And rock the ground whereon these fleepers be. 
Now thou and i are new in amity ; 
And will, .to-morrow midnight, folemnly, 
Dance in duke Tbefeus" houfe triumphantly, 
And blefs it to all fair profperity: 
There mall the pairs of faithful lovers be 
Wedded, with Tbejeus, all in jollity. 

Puc. Fairy king, attend, and mark; 

J do hear the morning lark. 

OBE. Then, my queen, in filence fad, 

Trip we after the night's made : 

We the globe can compafs foon, 

Swifter than the wand'ring moon. 

TIT. Come, my lord ; and, in our flight, 

Tell me how it came this night, 

That I fleeping here was found, 

With these mortals, on the ground, \Exeunt. 

10 thefe, fine the 

A Miitfummer Night's Dream. 55 

Horns wind within. 


THE. Go, one of you, find out the foreiler; 

For now our observation is perform'd : 
And fince we have the vaward of the day, 

My love (hall hear the musick of my hounds 

Uncouple in the weftern valley ; go: 
Difpatch, I fay, and find the foreiier 
We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, 
And mark the musical confusion 
Of hounds and echo in conjunction. 

HIP. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, 
When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the boar 
With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear 
Such gallant chiding; for, befides the groves, 
The fkies, the fountains, every region near 
Seem'd all one mutual cry : I never heard 
So musical a difcord, fuch fweet thunder. 

THE. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 
So flew'd, fo fanded, and their heads are hung 
With ears that fweep away the morning dew; 
Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapt like Tbeffalian bulls; 
Slow in purfuit, but match'd in moutn like bells, 
Each under each. A cry more tuneable 
Was never halloo'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, 
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in The/fitly: 
Judge, when you hear. But, foil ; \_Jeeing the Lovers. ~\ what 
nymphs art these? 

EGE. My lord, this is my daughter here afleep; 
And this, Lyfander; this Demetrius is; 
This, Helena, old Nedar's Helena: 

8 v. N-jte. '4 the Beare, 

56 A Midfummer Night's Dream. 

I wonder at their being here together. 

THE. No doubt, they rose up early, to observe 
The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, 
Came here, in grace of our folemnity._ 
Bur, fpeak, Egeus; is not this the day 
That Hermia mould give anfwer of her choice ? 

EGE. It is, my lord. [horns. 

' THE. Go, bid the huntfmen wake them with their 

Horns, and Shout, nvithin : 

fvcake and ft art up, 

THE. Good-morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is paft ; 
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now ? 

Lrs. Pardon, my lord. \He,andthe re/?,6nteltoTkefeus. 

T'HE. I pray you all, ftand up. 
T know, you two are rival enemies ; 
How comes this gentle concord in the world, 
That hatred is fo far from jealoufy. 
To fleep by hate, and fear no enmity? 

Lrs, My lord, 1 fhall reply amazedly, 
Half 'fleep, half waking : But as yet, I fwear, 
I cannot truly fay how I came here. 
But, as I think, (for truly would I fpeak ; 
And, now I do bethink me, fo it is ;) 
I came with Hermia hither : our intent 
Was, to be gone from Athens, where we might be 
Without the peril of the Athenian law. 
. EGE. Enough, enough, my lord ; you have enough; 
J beg the law, the law, upon his head._ 
They would have ftoln away, they would, Demetrius, 
Thereby to have defeated you and me : 
You, of your wife; and me, of my confent; 

* wonckr of their 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 5 7 

Of my confent that fhe fhould be your wife. 

DEM. My lord, fair He len told me of their ftealth, 
Of this their purpose hither, to this wood; 
And I in fury hither follow'd them; 
Fair Helena in fancy following me. 
But, my good lord, I wot not by what power, 
(But by fame power it is) my love to Hermia, 
Melted as Hot!; the fnow, feems to me now 
As the remembrance of an idle gawd, 
Which in my childhood I did doat upon: 
And all the faith, the virtue, of my heart, 
The object and the pleasure of mine eye, 
Is only Helena. To her, my lord, 
Was I betrothed ere I fcin fee Hermia: 
But, like a ficknefs, did I loath this food: 
But, as in health, come to my natural tafte, 
Now do I wilh it, love it, long for it, 
And will for evermore be true to it. 

THE, Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: 
Of this difcourfe we will hear more anon.__ 
Egeus, I will over-bear your will; 
For in the temple, by and by with us, 
These couples mall eternally be knit. 
And, for the morning now is fomething worn, 
Our purpos'd hunting (hall be fet afide 
Away, with us, to Athens: Three and three, 

We'll hold a feafl in great folemnity 

Come, m^Hippolita. [*<?/ THE. HIP. EGE. and 'Train. 

DEM. These things feem fmall, and undiftinguifhable, 
Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. 

HER. Methinks, I fee these things with parted eye, 
When every thing feems double. 

jg A Midfummer Nighfs Dream. 

HEL. So methinks: 

And 1 have found Demetrius like a gemel, 
Mine own, and not mine own. 

DEM. $ut are you fure 
That we are toell awake? it feems to me, 
That yet we fleep, we dream Do not you think.) 
The duke was here, and bid us follow him? 

HER. Yea; and my father. 

HEL. And Hippolita. 

Lrs. And he did bid us follow to the temple. 

DEM. Why then, we are awake: Let's follow him; 
And, by the way, let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt. 
As they go out, Bottom wakes. 

Bof. When my cue comes, call me, and I will an- 
fwer: my next is, Moji fair Pyramus. Hey, \\o\-Petc? 
Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! 
Starveling! God's my life! ftoln hence, and left me 
afleep ! 1 have had a moft rare vision. I have had a 
dream, paft the wit of man to fay, what dream it was: 
Man is but an afs, if he go about to expound this dream. 
Methought I was there is no man can tell what. Me- 
thought I was, and methought I had, But man is but 
a patch'd fool, if he will offer to fay what methought 
I had. The eye of man hath not heaid, the ear of man 
hath not feen ; man's hand is not able to tafte, his tongue 
to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream 
was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this 
dream: it fhall be call'd, Bottom's Dream, because ic 
hath no bottom; and I will fing it in the latter end of a 
play, before the duke: Peraci venture, to make it the 
more gracious, I fhall fing it after death. [Exit. 

* a Jewell 3 (ing it at her death 

A MiJfutnmer Nighfs Drearfr. 59 

SCENE II. Athens. A Room in Quince'/ Houfe. 

^yi. Have you fent to Bottom's houfe? is he come 
home yet ? 

SfA. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt, he is 

FLU. If he come not, then the play is mar'd ; It goes 
not forward, doth it? 

Qyi. It is not poffible: you have not a man, in all 
Athens, able to difcharge.P)>rfl,vz.r, but he. 

FLU. No; he hath fimply the beft wit of any handy- 
craft man in Athens. 

$>ui. Yea, and the beft perfon too: and he is a very 
paramour, for a fvveet voice. 

FLU. You muft fay, paragon: a paramour is, God 
blefs us! a thing of naught. 

Enter SNUG. 

SNU. Matters, the duke is coming from the temple, 
and there is two or three lords and ladies more marry'd: 
If our fport had gone forward, we had all been made 

FLU. O fweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he loft fix- 
pence a day, during his life; he could not have 'fcap'd 
fixpence a day: an the duke had not given him fixpence 
a day for playing Pyramus, I'll be hang'd; he would have 
ileserv'd it: fixpence a day, in Pyramus, or nothing. 
Enter BOTTOM. 

Bar. Where are these lads? where are these hearts? 

>ui. Bottom! O moft courageous day! O moft hap- 
py hour! \tAll croud about him. 

Bof. Mafters, I am to difcourfe wonders: but aflc 
xne not what; for if I tell you, 1 am no true Athenian* 

go A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out. 

Styi. Let us hear, fweet Bottom. 

Bof. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you, is, 
that the duke hath dined: Get your apparel together; 
good firings to your beards, new ribbands to your 
pumps, meet presently at the palace, every man look 
o'er his part; for, the fhort and the long is, our play 
is prefer'd. In any cafe, \c\.7bhby have clean linnen; 
and let not him, that plays the lion, pare his nails, for 
they fhall hang out for the lion's claws. And, mod 
dear aclors, eat no onions, nor garlick, for we are td 
utter fweet breath; and 1 do not doubt but to hear 
them fay, it is a fweet comedy. No more words ; away, 
go, away. [Exeunt. 

SCENE I. The fame. 

A State-Room in Thefeus'/ Palace. 



HIP. 'Tisftrange,my77'f/fwj,thattheseloversfpeak of. 

T"BE. More ftrange than true. 1 never may believe 
These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. 
Lovers, and madmen, have fuch feething brains, 
Such fhaping fantafies, that apprehend 
More than cool reason ever comprehends. 
The lunatick, the lover, and the poet, 
Are of imagination all compact : 
One fees more devils than vaft hell can hold; 
That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantick, 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 6 1 

fcees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: 

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rowling, 

iDoth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; 

And, as imagination bodies forth 

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 

Turns them to ftiapes, and gives to airy nothing 

A local habitation, and a name. 

Such tricks hath ftrong imagination: 

That, if it would but apprehend fome joy, 

It comprehends fome bringer of that joy; 

Or, in the night, imagining fome fear, 

How easy is a bum fuppos'd a bear? 

HIP. But all the ftory of the night told over, 
And all their minds tranffigur'd fo together, 
More witnefleth than fancy's images, 
And grows to fomething of great conftancy; 
But, howfoever, ftrange, and admirable. 

THE. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth. _ 
Joy, gentle friends! joy, and frefli days of love, 
Accompany your hearts ! 

Lrs. More than to us 
Wait on your royal walks, your board, your bed! [have, 

THE. Come now ; what maflcs, what dances fhall we 
To wear away this long age of three hours, 
Between our after- fupper, and bed-time? 
Where is our usual manager of mirth? 
What revels are in hand ? Js there no play, 
To ease the anguifh of a torturing hour? 
Call Pbilojlrate. 

PHI. Here, mighty Thefeus. 

THE . Say, what abridgment have you for this evening ? 

*3 waite in your 

62 A Wdfitmmer Night's Dream. 

What mafk, what musick? How mall we beguile 
The lazy time, if not with fome delight? 

PHI. There is a brief, how many fports are ripe ; 

[presenting a Paper. 
Make choice of which your highnefs will fee firft. 

fas. The battle with the Centaurs, to be fung 

By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. 
We'll none of that: that have I told my love, 
In glory of my kinsman Hercules. 

The riot of the tipfy Bacchanals, 

Tearing the Tbracian finger in their rage. 
That is an old device; and it was play'd 
When I from 'fhebes came laft a conqueror. 

The thrice three muses mourning for the death 

Of learning, late deceaft in beggary. 
That is fome fatire, keen, and critical, 
Not forting with a nuptial ceremony. 

A tedious brief fcene of young Pyramus, 

And his \oveTAis6e; very tragical mirth. 
Merry, and tragical ? Tedious, and brief? 
That is, hot ice ; and wcndrous ftrange blacft fnow. _ 
How (hall we find the concord of this difcord ? 

PHI. A play it is, my lord, fome ten words long; 
Which is as brief as I have known a play; 
But by ten words, my lord, it is too long; 
Which makes it tedious : for in all the play 
There is not one word apt, one player fitted. 
And tragical, my noble lord, it is : 
For Pyramus therein doth kill himfelf. 
Which, when I faw rehearft, I muft confefs, 
Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears 
The paflion of loud laughter never Ihed. 

J Play there i 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 63 

THE. What are they, that do play it? 
PHI. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, 
Which riever labour'd in their minds 'till now; 
And now .have toil'd their unbreath'd memories 
With this fame play, againft your nuptial. 

THE. And we will hear it. 

PHI. No, my noble lord, 
Jt is not for you : I have heard it over, 
And it is nothing, nothing in "the world; 
Unlefs you can find fport in their intents, 
Extreamly (Iretch'd, and con'd with cruel pain, 
To do you fervice. 

THE. I will hear that play: 
For never any thing can be amifs, 
When fimplenefs and duty tender it. 
Go, bring them in;_and take your places, ladies. 


HIP. I love not to fee wretchednefs o'er-charg'd, 
And duty in his fervice perifhing. 

THE. Why, gentle fweet, you (hall fee no fuch thing. 

HIP. He fays, they can do nothing in this kind. 

THE . The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. 
Our fport (hall be, to take what they miftake: 
And what poor toillins duty cannot do, 
Noble refpeft takes it in might, not merit. 
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed 
To greet me with premeditated welcomes; 
Where I have feen them (hiver, and look pale, 
Make periods in the midft of fentences, 
Throttle their praftis'd accent in their fears, 
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, 
Not paying me a welcome: Truft me, fweet, 

E 2 

64. A Midfummer Nigh? 's Dream. 

Out of this filence, yet, I pick'd a welcome; 

And in the modefty of fearful duty 

I read as much, as from the rattling tongue 

Of faucy and audacious eloquence. 

Love, therefore, and tongue-ty'd fimplicity, 

In leaft, fpeak moft, to my capacity. 


PHI. So please your grace, the prologue is addreft. 
THE, Let him approach. [Trumpets. 

Pyramus, and Thisbe. An Interlude. 

Enter Prologue. 
PRO. If we offend, it is with our good will. 

That you mould think, we come not to offend, 
But with good will. To fhew our fimple fkill, 

That is the true beginning of our end. 
Confider then, we come but in defpight. 

We do not come, as minding to content you, 
Our true intent is. All for your delight, 

We are not here. That you mould here repent you, 
The adlors are at hand: and, by their mow, 
You (hall know all, that you are like to know. 
THE. This fellow doth not ftand upon points. 
LYS. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt; 
he knows not the flop. A good moral, my lord: It is 
not enough to fpeak, but to fpeak true. 

Hip. Indeed, he hath play'd on this prologue, like a 
child on a recorder; a found, but not in government. 

THE. His fpeech was like a tangl'd chain; nothing 
impair'd, but all diforder'd. Who is next ? 

Enter PYRAMUS, aWTnisBE, Wall, Moon-mine, 

and Lion, as in dumb Show. 
* PRO. Gentles, perchance, you wonder at this fhow: 

A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 65 

But wonder on, 'till truth make all things plain. 
This "|~ man is Pyramus, if you would know ; 

This "|" beauteous lady Tbisby is, certain. 
This man, ~j~ with lime and rough-caft, doth present 

Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers funder : 
And through wall's chink, poor fouls, they are content 

To whifper ; at the which let no man wonder. 
This man,~j~with lanthorn, dog, and bum of thorn, 

Presenteth moon-mine : for, if you will know, 
By moon-mine did these lovers think no fcorn 

To meet at Ninuf* tomb, there, there to woo. 
This grizly beaft,~f which by name lion hight, 
The trufty Tbhby, coming firfl by night, 
Did fcare away, or rather did affright : 
And, as (he fled, her mantle fhe did fall ; 

Which lion vile with bloody mouth did {tain : 
Anon comes Pyramus, fweet youth, and tall, 

And finds his trufty Thisby's mantle flain : 
Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, 

He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody brealt; 
And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry made, 

His dagger drew, and dy'd. For all the reft, 
Let lion, moon-fhine, wall, and lovers twain, 
At large difcourfe, while here they do remain. 

[Exeunt Prologue, THISBE, Lion, and Moon-fhine. 
THE. I wonder, if the lion be to fpeak. 
DEM. No wonder, my lord : one lion may, when ma- 
ny afTes do. 

* Wai In this fame interlude, it doth befal, 

* That t, one Snout by name, present a wall: 

* And fuch a wall, as I would have you think, 

* That had in it a crany'd hole, or chink, 

i'- Lyon hight by name) 

66 A Uidjummtr Night's Dream. 

Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Tbisfy, 
Did whifper often very fecretly. 
This lome, this rough-caft, and this (lone, doth (how 
That I am that fame wall ; the truth is fo : 
And this the crany is~f, right and finifter, 
Through which the fearful lovers are to whifper. 
THE. Would you desire lime and hair to fpeak better? 
DEM. Jt is the wittieft partiticn, that ever I heard dif- 
courfe, my lord. 

THE. Pyramus draws near the wall: filence. 

Prx. Ogrim-look'd night, o night with hue fo black, 

night, which ever art, when day is not; 
O night, o night, alack, alack, alack, 

1 fear my Tbisby's promise is forgot. 

And thou, o wall, o fweet, o lovely wall, 

That ftand'ft between her father's ground and mine, 
Thou wall, o wall, o fweet and lovely wall, [eyen. 
Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine 
[Wall holds up his Fingers. 
Thanks, courteous wall : Jo<v e fhield thee well for this ! 

But what fee I r No Thisby do I fee. 
O wicked wall, through whom I fee no blifs, 

Curf'd be thy ftones for thus deceiving me! 
TEE. The wall, methinks, being fen fible, (hould curfe 

oT. No, in truth, fir, he mould not. Deceiving me, 
is Thisby's cue; (he is to enter now, and [ am to fpy her 
through the wall. You {hall fee, it will fall pat as f told 
you : yonder (he comes. 

Enter THISBE. 

* Tai.- O wall, full often haft thou heard my moans, 
For parting my fair Pyramus and me : 

A MMfummer Night's Dream'. 67 

My cherry lips have often kiff'd thy ftones ; 
Thy flones with lime and hair knit up in thee. 

PrR. I fee a voice: now will I to the chink, 
To fpy an I can hear my Tbisby's face. 

T bitty! 

THI. My love: thou art my love, I think. 

PrR. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover's grace: 

And like Limander am I trufty ftill. 

Tai. And [ like Helen, 'till the fates me kill. 

PrR. Not Shafalus to Prccrus was fo true. 

THI. As Shafalus to Prccrus, I to you. 

PrR. O, kiis me through the hole of this vile wall. 

THI. 1 kifs the wall's hole, not your lips at all. 

PrR. Wilt thou at Ninnfs, tomb meet me ftraitway? 

THI. 'Tide life, 'tide death, I come without delay. 

Wai. Thus have I, wall, my part difcharged fo ; 

And, being done, thus wall away doth go. 

[Exeunt Wall, PYRAMUS, and THIS BE. 

THE. Now is the mural down between the two neigh- 

DEM. No remedy, my lord, when walls are fo wilful 
to rear without warning. 

Hip. This is the filiieft fluff that ever T heard. 

THE. The belt in this kind are but fhadows: and the 
worll are no vvorfe, if imagination amend them. 

HIP. It muft be your imagination then, and not theirs. 

THE. If we imagine no worfe of them, than they of 
themielves, they may pafs for excellent men. Here come 
two noble beafts in, a man, and a lion. 

Enter Lion, and Moon-mine. 

* Lio. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear 

* The fmallelt monltrous moufe that creeps on floor, 

19 morail ** to heare 


68 A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

May now, perchance, both quake and tremble here, 
When lion rough in wildeft rage doth roar. 

Then know, that I one Snug the joiner am; 

No lion fell, nor elfe no lion's dam : 

For if I mould as lion come in ftrife 

Into this place, 'twere pity on my life. 

THE. A very gentle beaft, and of a good confcience. 

DEM. The very beft at a beaft, my lord, that e'er I faw. 

Lrs. This lion is a very fox for his valour. 

THE. True; and a goofe for his difcretion. 

DE M . Not fo, my lord: for his valour cannot carry 
his difcretion ; and the fox carries the goofe. 

THE. His difcretion, I am fure, cannot carry his va- 
lour; for the goofe carries not the fox. It is well: 
leave it to his difcretion, and let us Men to the moon. 

* Moo. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present. 
DEM. He fhould have worn the horns on his head. 
THE. He is no crefcent, and his horns are invisible 

within the circumference. 

* Moo. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; 

* Myfelf the man i' the moon do feem to be: 
TBE. This is the greateft error of all the reft: the 

man mould be put into the lanthorn; How is it elfe the 
man i* the moon ? 

DEM. He dares not come there for the candle: for, 
you fee, it is already in fnuff. [change! 

HIP. 1 am aweary of this moon: 'Would, he would 

THE. It appears, by his fmall light of difcretion, that 
he is in the wane : but yet, in courtefy, in all reason, 
we muft ftay the time. 

Lrs. Proceed, moon. 

STJ. All that I have to fay, is, to tell you, that the 

4 A Lyon 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 69 

lanthorn is the moon; I, the man i' the moon; this 
thorn-bum, my thorn-bufh; and this dog, my dog. 

DEM. Why, all these mould be in the lanthorn ; for 
they are in the moon. But, filence; here comes 'Thisbe. 
Enter THISBE. 

* THI. This is old Ninny's tomb : Where is my love ? 

* Lio. Oh. [roan. THISBE run j of. 
DEM, Well roar'd, lion. 

THE. Well run, Tbiibe. 

HIP. Well fhone, moon. Truly, the moon mines 
\vith a good grace. 

THE. Well mous'd, lion. 

\L\onJhakes Thisbe'j Mantle, and Exit. 
DEM. And then carne Pyramus. 
Lrs. And fo the lion vanim'd. 

PrR. Sweet moon, I thank thee for thy funny beams; 

I thank thee, moon, for mining now fo bright: 
For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering ftreams, 
I truft to tafte of truell Vbisly's fight. 
But ftay; Ofpight! 
But mark; Poor knight, 
What dreadful dole is here? 
Eyes, do you fee? 
How can it be? 
O dainty duck! O dear! 
Thy mantle good, 
What, Itain'd with blood ? 
Approach, ye furies fell! 
O fates, come, come; 
Cut thread and thrum; 
Quail, crulh, conclude, and quell! 

JQ A MiJfummer Night's Dream. 

THE. This paffion, and the death of a dear friend, 
would go near to make a man look fad. 

HIP. Bemrew my heart, but I pity the man. 

PTR. O, wherefore, nature, didft thou lions frame? 

Since lion vile hath here deflour'd my dear: 
Which is no, no which was the faireft dame, 
That liv'd, that lov'd, that lik'd, that look'd, with 
Come, tears, confound ; [cheer. 

Out, fword, and wound 
The pap of Pyramus: 
Ay, that left pap, 
Where heart doth hop: 
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. 
Now am I dead, 
Now am I fled; 
My foul is in the fey: 

Tongue, lose thy light! 
Moon, tske thy flight! 
Now die, die, die, die, die. 

[dies. Exit Moon fhine. 

DEM. No die, but an ace, for him ; for he is but one. 
. Lrs. Lefs than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is 

THE. With 'the help of a furgeon, he might yet re- 
cover, and prove an afs. 

HIP. How chance moon-fliine is gone, before Thiste 
come backs and finds her lover? 

THE. She will find him by flar-light. Here me comes ; 

Enter THIS BE. 
and her paffion ends the play. 

Hip. Methinks, ihe fhould not use a long one, for 
fuch a Pjramtu ; I hope, ftie will be brief. 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 7 i 

DEM. A moth will turn the balance, which Pyramus, 
which Tbisbe, is the better. 

Lrs. She hath fpyed him already, with those fweet 

DEM. And thus me moans, videlicet. 
THI. Afleep, my love ? 

What, dead, my dove ? 
O Pyramus, arise, 

Speak, fpeak. Quite dumb? 
Dead, dead? A tomb 
Muft cover thy fweet eyes. 
These liily lips, 
This cherry nose, 
These yellow cowflip cheeks, 
Are gone, are gone : 
Lovers, make moan ! 
His eyes were green as leeks. 
O fitters three, 
Come, come, to me, 
With hands as pale as milk; 
Lay them in gore, 
Since you have more 
With (hears his thread of filk. 
Tongue, not a word ; 
Come, trufty fword; 
Come, blade, my breaft imbrue : 
And farewel, friends: 
Thus Thisby ends: 

Adieu, adieu, adieu. [dies. 

THE. Moon-mine and lion are left to bury the dead. 
DEM. Ay, and wall too. 
.07% No, I affure you ; [/Jartingup.} the wall is down 

72 A Miclfummer Night's Dream. 

that parted their fathers. Will it please you to fee the 
epilogue, or to hear a bergomafk dance between two of 
our company ? 

THE. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs 
no excufe. Never excuse; for when the players are all 
dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that 
writ it had play'd Pyramus, and hang'd himfelf in This- 
lis garter, it would have been a fine tragedy : and fo it 
is, truly; and very notably difcharg'd. But, come, your 
bergomafk : let your epilogue alone. 

[Dance : and Exeunt Clowns. 
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve : _ 
Lovers, to bed; 'tis almoft fairy time. 
I fear, we ftiall out-fleep the coming morn, 
As much as we this night have over-watch'd. 
This palpable- grofs play hath well beguil'd 
The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. 
A fortnight hold we this folemnity, 
In nightly revels, and new jollity. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. The fame. 

Enter PUCK. 
Puc. Now the hungry lion roars, 

And the wolf behowls the moon; 
Whilft the heavy ploughman fnores, 

All with weary tafk fore-done. 
Now the wafted brands do glow, 

Whilft the fcritch-owl, fcritching loud, 
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, 

In remembrance of a ftiroud. 
Now it is the time of night, 

That the graves, all gaping wide, 

4 behold? 

A Midfummer Night's Dream. 73 

Every one lets forth his fpright, 

In the church-way paths to glide: 
And we fairies, that do run 

By the triple Hecatis team 
From the presence of the fun, 

Following darknefs like a dream, 
Now are frolick ; not a moufe 
Shall difturb this hallow'd houfe : 
I am fent, with broom, before, 
To fweep the duft behind the door. 
Enter King and Queen of Fairies, ivitb their 'Train. 
QBE. Through the houfe give glimmering light, 

By the dead and drowzy fire : 
Every elf, and fairy fpright, 

Hop as light as bird from brier; 
And this ditty, after me, 
Sing, and dance it trippingly. 
TIT. Firft, rehearfe your fong by rote : 
To each word a warbling note, 
Hand in hand, with fairy grace, 
Will we fing, and blefs this place. 

OBE. Now, until the break of day, 
Through this houfe each fairy ftray. 
To the beft bride-bed will we, 
Which by us mall blefTed be ; 
And the iflue, there create, 
Ever mall be fortunate. 
So (hall all the couples three 
Ever true in loving be : 
And the blots of nature's hand 
Shall not in their vfTue ftand j 

A Midfummer Nights Dream. 

Never mole, hare-lip, nor fear, 

Nor mark prodigious, fuch as are 

Defpised in nativity, 

Shall upon their children be. _ . 

With this field dew coufecrate, 

Every fairy take his gate ; 

And each feveral chamber blefs, 

Through this palace, with fweet peace: 

Ever (hall it fafely reft, 

And the owner of it bleft. 

Trip away ; 

Make no flay; 
Meet me all by break of day. , 

\Exeunt King, Queen, and Train, 
PUCK, advancing. 
If ive Jbadoius have offended, 
Think but this, (and all is mended) 
That you have but Jlumber W here, 
While these 'visions did appear. 
And this 'weak and idle theme, 
No more yielding tut a dream, 
Gentles, do not reprehend^ 
If you pardon, ive will mend. 
And, as Pm an honeft Puck, 
If itie have unearned luck 
No<w to '/cafe tbeferpent's tongue t 
We iv-ll make amends, ere long : 
Elfe the Puck a liar call. 
So, good night unto you all. 
Give me your hands, ifive le friends. 
And Robin fljall rejiore amends. [Exit. 

9 in fafety reft 




Perfons represented. 

Duke of Venice. 

fr^ce of Morocco, l Su . torsio?Qrt ^ 

Prince of Arragon, j 

Antonio, a noble Merchant : 

Baflanio, bii Friend: 

Gratiano, "J 

Lorenzo, I noble Venetians ; and Friends 

Solanio, and ^ to the Merchant, and Baflanio. 

Salerino, J 

Shylock, a Jew Merchant : 

Tubal, another Jew, his Friend. 

Ci'o<wn, Servant to Shylock : 

an old Man, his Father. 

Servants to Portia, four. 

Servant to Antonio. 

Servant to Baflanio. 

Portia, a rich Heirefs : 
NerifTa, her Woman. 
Jeffica, Shylock'j Daughter. 

Magnifcoes of Venice ; Officers of the Court o 

and Attendants, (Men and Women) upon the Duke, 
Princes, Portia, Baflanio, &c. 

Scene, Venice; aWBelmont, Seat of Portia 
ufon the Continent. 


ACT: i. 

SCENE I. Venice. A Street. 



^wr. In Tooth, I know not why I am fo fad; 
Jt wearies me; you fay, it wearies you; 
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, 
What fluff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, 
I am to learn: 

And fuch a want-wit fadnefs makes of me, 
That I have much ado to know myfelf. 

SAL. Your mind is tofiing on the ocean; 
There where your argofies, with portly fail,~~* 
Like figniors and rich burgers on the flood, 
Or as it were the pageants of the fea, 
Do over-peer the petty traffiquers, 
That curt'fy to them, do them reverence, 
As they fly by them with their woven wings. 

SOL. Believe me, fir, had I fuch venture forth, 
The better part of my affe&ions would 


4 The Merchant of Venice. 

Be with my hopes abroad. I ihould be ftill 
Plucking the grafs, to know where fits the wind; 
Peering in maps, for ports, and peers, and roads: 
And every objed, that might make me fear 
Miffortune to my ventures, out of doubt 
Would make me fad. 

SAL. My wind, cooling my broth, 
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought 
What harm a wind too great might do at fea. 
I mould not fee the fandy hour-glafs run, 
But I mould think of mallows, and of flats; 
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand, 
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, 
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church, 
And fee the holy edifice of ftone, 
And not bethink me ftraight of dangerous rocks? 
Which touching but my gentle veffel's fide, 
Would fcatter all her fpices on the ftream ; 
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks; 
And, in a word, but even now worth this, 
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought 
To think on this; and mall I lack the thought, 
That fuch a thing, bechanc'd, would make me fad? 
But, tell not me; I know, Antonio 
Is fad to think upon his merchandize. 

AN?. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, 
My ventures are not in one bottom trufted, 
Nor to one place ; nor is my whole eftate 
Upon the fortune of this present year: 
Therefore my merchandize makes me not fad. 

SAL. Why, then you are in love. 

ANT. Fie, fie! 

>* docks 

erchant of Venice. 5 

SAL. Not in love neither? Then let us fay, you are fad, 
Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy 
For you, to laugh, and leap, and fay, you are merry, 
Because you are not fad. Now, by two-headed Janus, 
Nature hath fram'd llrange fellows in her time: 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
And laugh, like parrots at a bag-piper; 
And other of fuch vinegar afpect, 
That they'll not fhevv their teeth in way of fmile, 
Though Neftor fwear the jell be laughable. 

Enter BASS/ N 10, LORENZO, and 

SOL . Here comes Baffanio, your moil noble kinsman, 
Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; 
We leave you now with better company. 

SjtL. \ would have ftay'd 'till I had made you merry, 
If worthier friends had not prevented me. 

ANT. Your worth is very dear in my regard. 
I take it, your own businefs calls on you, 
And you embrace the occasion to depart. 

SAL. Good morrow, my good lords. [when? 

BAS. Good figniors both, when mall we laugh? fay, 
You grow exceeding ftrange; Muft it be fo? 

SAL. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. 


LOR. My lord Baffanio, fince you have found Antonio^ 
We two will leave you; but, at dinner-time, 
I pray you, have in mind where we muft meet. 

BAS. I will not fail you. 

GRA. You look not well, fignior Antonio; 
You have too much refpect upon the world: 
They lose it, that do buy it with much care. 

F 2 

6 T'be Merchant of Venice. 

Believe roe, you are marveloufly chang'd. 

AVT. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiami 
A ftage, where every man mull play a part, 
And mine a fad one. 

GRJ. Let me play the fool : 
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; 
And let my liver rather heat with wine, 
Than my heart cocl with mortifying groans. 
Why mould a man, whose blood is warm within, 
Sit like his grandfire, cut in alabafter? 
Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice, 
By being peeviih ? I tell thee what, Antonio 
I love thee, and it is my love that fpeaks; 
There are a fort of men, whose visages 
Do cream, and mantle, like a Handing pond; 
And do a wilful ftilnefs entertain, 
With purpose to be dreft in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; 
As who fliould fay, / amjlr Oracle, 
And, 'when I ope my lips, let no dog bark : 
O, my Antonio, I do know of these, 
That therefore only are reputed wise, 
For faying nothing ; who, I am very fure, 
If they mould fpeak, would almoft damn those ears, 
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, fools. 
I'll tell thee more of this another time: 
But fifh not, with this melancholy bait, 

For this fool gudgeon, this opinion 

Come, good Lorenzo: Fare ye well a while; 

I'll end my exhortation after dinner. 

LOR. Well, we will leave you then 'till dinner-time. 
1 muft be one of these fame dumb wise men, 

*J \\hen I *4dam 

The Merchant of Venice. 7 

For Gratlano never lets me fpeak. 

GRA. Well, keep me company but two years more, 
Thou (halt not know the found of thine own tongue. 

ANT. Farewel: I'll grow a talker for this gear. 

GRA. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commendable 
In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendable. 

[Exeunt GR.ATIANO, and LORENZO. 

Ax?. Fs that any thing now ? 

BAH. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, 
more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are as two 
grains of wheat hid in two bumels of chaff; you mail 
leek all day ere you find them; and, when you have 
them, they are not worth the fearch. 

Ant. Well ; tell me now, what lady is the fame, 
To whom you fwore a fecret pilgrimage, 
That you to-day promis'd to tell me of? 

BAS. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, 
How much I have difabl'd mine eftate, 
By fomething mowing a more fvvelling port 
Than my faint means would grant continuance: 
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd 
From fuch a noble rate; but my chief care 
Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, 
Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal, 
Hath left me gag'd: To you, Antonio, 
I owe the moft, in money, arid in love; 
And from your love I have a warranty 
To unburthen all my plots, and purposes, 
How to get clear of all the debts 1 owe. 

ANT. 1 pray you, good Baffanio, let me know it; 
And, if it ftand, as you yourfelf ftill do; 
Within the eye of honour, be aflur'd, 

8 An, It is that 


t The Merchant vf Venice. 

My purfe, my perfon, my extrrarrseft means, 
Lye all unlocked to your occasions. 

BAS. In my fchool days, when I had loft one {haft, 
I fhot his fallow of the felf-fame flight 
The felf-fame *vay, with more advised watch, 
To find the other; and, by advent'ring both, 
I oft found both: [ urge this childhood proof, 
Because what follows is pure innocence. 
I owe you much ; and, like a wilful youth, 
That which I owe is loft : but if you please 
To fhoot another arrow that felf way 
Which you did fhcot the f.rft, I do not doubt, 
As 1 will watch the, aim, or to find both, 
Or bring your latter hazard back again, 
And thankfully jell debtor for the ririt. 

AyT. You kriow me well ; and herein fpend but time, 
To wind about my love with circumllance; 
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, 
In making queftion of my uttermofr, 
Than if you had made wafie of all I have: 
Then do but fay to me what I ftiould do, 
That in your knowledge may by me be done, 
And I am preft unto it: therefore, (peak. 

BAS. In Rdtr.fint is a lady richly left, 
And fhe is fair, and, fairer than that word, 
Of wondrous virtues; fometime from her eyes 
1 did receive fair fpeechlefs mefiages : 
Her name is Ptrtia ; nothing undervalu'd 
To Ca/o's daughter, Bruins' Portia. 
Nor is the wiJe u-orid jgnor2rit of her worth; 
For the four winds blow in from every coail 
Renowned fuitors: and her funny locks 

6-aihcr for.h, and *$ fomct-mcs 

T'be Merchant of Venice. 9 

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; 

Which makes her feat of Belmont Colcboi ftrond, 

And niany Jafons come in queit of her. 

O my Antonio, had I but the means 

To hold a rival place with one of them, 

T have a mind prefages me fuch thrift, 

That I mould queftionlefs be fortunate. 

dur. Thou knovv'ft, that all my fortunes are at fea j 
Neither have I money, nor commodity 
To raise a present fum : therefore, go forth, 
Try what my credit can in Venice do ; 
That fhall be rack'd, even to the uttermoft, 
To furnifh thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. 
Go presently enquire, and fo will I, 
Where money is ; and [ no queftion make, 
To have it of my truft, or for my fake. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. Belmont. A Room in Portia' j Hou/e. 
Eater PORTIA, aWNfiRissA. 

FOR. By my troth, Nerijfa, my little body is aweary 
of this great world. 

NER. You would be, fweet madam, if your miseries 
were in the fame abundance as your good fortunes are: 
And yet, for ought I fee, they are as fick that furfeit 
with too much, as they that ftarve with nothing : It is 
no mean happinefs therefore, to be feated in the mean ; 
fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but competency 
lives longer. 

POR. Good fentences, and well pronounc'd. 

NER. They would be better, if well follow'd. 

POR. If to do were as easy as to know what were 
good to do, chapels had been churches* and poor men's 

IO The Merchant of V 

cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine, that fol- 
lows his own infliuftions : I can easier teach twenty 
what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty 
to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise 
laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold 
decree: fuch a hare is madnefs the youth, to fkip o'er 
the mefhes of good counfel the cripple. But this rea- 
soning is not in the fafhion to choose me a husband: 
O me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I 
would, nor refuse whom I diflike; fo is the will of a 
living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father: 
Is it not hard, Nerffa, that 1 cannot choose one, nor re- 
fuse none? 

Afcjt. Yonr father was ever virtuous; and holy men, 
at their death, have good infpirations ; therefore, the 
lottery, that he hath devised in these three chetls, of 
gold, filver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his mean- 
ing, chooses you) will, no doubt, never be chosen by 
any rightly, but one who you (hall rightly love. But 
what warmth is there in your affection towards any of 
these princely fuitcrs that are already comer 

FOR. I pray thee, over-name them ; and as thcu 
nameil them, I will defcribe them ; and, according to 
my defcription, level at my arFeftion. 

HER. firfr, there is the Neapolitan prince. 

FOR. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing 
but talk of his horfe ; and he makes it a great appro- 
priation to his ov\n good parts, that he can fhoe him 
himfelf : I am much afeard, my lady his mother pla) 'd 
falfe with a, fmith. . 

A r *. Then, is there the county Palatine. 

FQR. lie doth nothing but frown; as who fhould fav, 

'The Merchant of Venice . 1 1 

// you 'will not have me, choose: he hears merry tales, 
and fmiles not : 1 fear, he will prove the weeping phi- 
lofopher when he grows old, being fo full of unman- 
nerly fadnefs in his youth. I had rather be marry'd to a 
death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of 
these ; God defend me from these tv?o! 

NER. How fayyou by theFrencb lord, monfieur leBon? 

FOR . God made him, and therefore let him pafs for 
a man. In truth, I know it is a fin to be a mocker; 
But, he ! why, he hath a horfe better than the Neapoli- 
tan's ; a better bad habit of frowning than the count 
Palatine: he is every man in no man: if a throflle fing, 
he falls tfraight a cap'ring; he will fence with his own 
fhadovv: if 1 ihould marry him, I mould marry twenty 
husbands: If he would defpise me, I would forgive 
him; for if he love me to madnefs, I mall never requite 

NF.R. What fay then to FauconbriJge, the young ba- 
ron of England? 

FOR. You know, I fay nothing to him; for he un- 
dcrflands not me, nor 1 him : he hath neither Latin, 
French, nor kalian; and you will come into the court, 
and (wear, that I have a poor penny-worth in the Eng- 
lijh. He is a proper man's picture; But, alas, who can 
converfe with a dumb-mow ? How odly he is fuited? I 
think, he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in 
France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour every 

NER. What think you of the Scottijh lord, his neigh- 
bour ? 

FOR. That he hath a neighbourly eharity in him ; 
for he borrow 'd a box of the ear of the EngUJbrnan, and 

J* a Traffdl 

1 2 <Tbe Merchant of Ve n i ce . 

fwore he would pay him again, when he was able: I 
think, the Frenchman became his furety, and feal'd un- 
der for another. 

NER. How like you the young German, the duke of 
Saxony's nephew ? 

FOR. Very vilely in the morning, when he is fober; 
and moft vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: 
when he is belt, he is a little worfe than a man ; and 
when he is worft, he is little better than a bead : an the 
worft fall that ever fell, I hope I mail make ihift to go 
without him. 

NER. If he fhould offer to choose, and choose the 
right cafket, you fliould refuse to perform your father's 
will, if you fhould refuse to accept him. 

FOR. Therefore, for fear of the worft, I pray thee, 
fet a deep glafs of Rbenijb wine on the contrary cafket ; 
for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, 
I know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerijfa, 
ere I will be marry'd to a fpunge. 

NER You need not fear, lady, the having any of 
these lords ; they have acquainted me with their deter- 
minations: which is, indeed, to return to their home, 
and to trouble you with no more fuit ; unlefs you may 
be won by fome other fort than your father's imposition, 
depending on the cafkets. 

FOR. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as 
chair, as Diana, unlefs I be obtained by the manner of 
my father's will . I am glad this parcel of wooers are fo 
reasonable; for there is not one among them but I doat 
on his very abfence, and I pray God grant them a fair 

NER. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's 

The Merchant of Venice. 1 3 

time, a Venetian, a fcholar, and a foldier, that came hi- 
ther in company of the marquis of Montferrat? 

FOR. Yes, yes, it was Bajfanio; as 1 think, fo was he 

Ar.R. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my 
foolifti eyes look'd upon, was the bell deserving a fair 

FOR. I remember him well; and I remember him 
worthy of thy praise. _How now! what news? 
Enter a Servant. 

Ser. The four ftrangers feelc for you, madam, to 
take their leave: and the.e is a fore-runner come from 
a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the 
prince, his matter, will be here to-night. 

FOR. If I could bid the fifth welcome with fo good 
heart as I can bid the other four farewel, I fhould be 
glad of his approach : if he have the condition of a faint, 
and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he fhould 

fhrive me than wive me Come, NeriJ/a: Sirrah, go 

before. Whiles v.e (hut the gate upon one wooer, an- 
other knocks at the door. [Exeunt. 

SCENE III. Venice. A publick Place. 
Enter B A s s A K I o, and S H v i, o c K . 

Sar. Three thousand ducats, well. 

BAS. Ay, fir, for three months. 

Sflr. For ihree months, well. 

BAS. For the which, as 1 told you, dntonio (hall be 

SHY. Ontario (hall become bound, well. 

BAS. May you tfead me? Will you pleasure me? 
Shall I know your aahver : 

14 Tie Merchant of Venice. 

SHY. Three thousand ducats, for three months, and 
Antonio bound. 

BAS. Your anfwer to that. 

SHY. Antonio is a good man. 

BAS, Have you heard any imputation to the contrary? 

Stir. Ho, no, no, no, no; my meaning, in faying 
he is a good man, is, to have you underftand me that 
he is fufficient : yet his means are in fupposition : he 
hath an argofy bound to Tripoli;, another to the Indies ; 
I underftand moreover upon the Ryaho, he hath a third 
at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he 
hath, fquander'd abroad: But mips are but boards, fai- 
lors but men: there be land rats, and water rats, water 
thieves, and land thieves ; I mean, pirats ; and then 
there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks : The man 
is notwithftanding fufficient; three thousand ducats; 
1 think, I may take his bond. 

BAS. Be aflur'd, you may. 

SHY. I will be aflur'd, I may; and, that I may be af- 
fur'd, I will bethink me: May I fpeak with Antonio? 

BAS. If it please you to dine with us. 

SHY. Yes, to fmell pork; to eat of the habitation, 
which your prophet the Nazarite conjur'd the devil in- 
to : I will buy with you, fell with you, talk with you, 
walk with you, and fo following; but I will not eat 
with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What 
news on the Rja!to?Who is he comes here ? 

BAS. This is fignior Antonio. 

SHY. " How like a fawning publican he looks 1" 
" I hate him for he is a chriftian :" 
' But more, for that, in low fimplicity," 

1'be Merchant of Venice. 1 5 

He lends out money gratis, and brings down" 

The rate of usance here with us in Venice" 

If I can catch him once upon the hip," 

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him." 

He hates our facred nation ; and he rails," 

Even there where merchants mod do congregate," 

On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift," 

Which he calls intereit : Curfed be my tribe," 

Jf [ forgive him !" 

BAS. Sbylcck, do you hear ? 

S#r. I am debating of my present ftore ; 

And, by the near guefs of my memory, 

1 cannot inftantly raise up the grofs 

Of full three thousand ducats : What of that ? 

'Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, 

Will furnifh me: But, foft ; How many months 

Do you desire? Reft you fair, good fignior ; 

Your worlhip was the laft man in our mouths. 
Atii ' . Shy lock, albeit I neither lend, nor borrow, 

By taking, nor by giving of excefs, 

Yet, to fupply the ripe wants of my friend, 

I'll break a cuftom :_Is he yet posseft, 

How much you would ? 

SHT. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. 

Aur. And for three months. 

Snr. I had forgot, three months, you told me fo._ 

Well then, your bond ; and, let me fee, 3ut hear you; 

Methoughts, you faid, you neither lend, nor borrow, 

Upon advantage. 

JlNT. I do never use it. 

SH r. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Lzbaris fiieep, " 

This "Jacob from our holy Abraham was 

1 6 Ike Merchant of Venice. 

(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf) 
The third posseffor ; ay, he was the third. 

-AT. And what of him ? did he take intereft ? 

Sur. No, not take intereft ; not, as you would fay, 
Dire&ly intereft: mark what Jacob did. 
When Laban and himfelf were compromis'd, 
That all the eanlings, which were ftreak'd, and py'd> 
Should fall as "Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank, 
In end of autumn turned to the rams : 
And when the work of generation was 
Between these wooly breeders in the aft, 
The flcilful fhepherd pil'd me certain wands, 
And, in the doing of the deed of kind, 
He ftuck them up before the fulfome ewes ; 
Who, then conceiving, did in caning time 
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. 
This was a way to thrive, and he was bleft ; 
And thrift is bleffing, if men fteal it not. 

An?. This was a venture, fir, that "Jacob ferv'd for; 
A thing not in his power to bring to pafs, 
But fway'd, and famion'd, by the hand of heaven. 
Was this inferted to make intereft good ? 
Or is your gold, and filver, ewes, and rams ? 

Sar. I cannot tell; I make it breed as faft :~ 
But note me, fignior. 

Ayr. Mark you this, BaJ/anio, 
The devil can cite fcripture for his purpose. 
An evil foul, producing holy witnefs, 
Is like a villain with a fmiling cheek ; 
A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 
O, what a goodly oudide falfhood hath ! 

Sxr. Three thousand ducats, 'tis a good round fum. 

The Merchatit of Venice. I 

Three months from twelve, then let me fee the rate. 

Anf. Well, Shylock, fhall we be beholding to you? 

Sar. Signior Antonio^ many a time and olc 
In the Ryalto you have rated me 
About my monies, and my usances: 
Still have I born it with a patient fhrug; 
For fufferance is the badge of all our tribe: 
You call me miibeliever, cut-throat dog, 
And fpet upon my Jenuijb gaberdine, 
And all for ufe of that which is mine own. 
Well then, it now appears, you need my help: 
Go to then; you come to me, and you fay, 
Shy lock, we would have monies ; You fay fo; 
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, 
And foot me, as you fpurn a ilranger cur 
Over your threfhold ; monies is your fuit. 
What ihould I fay to you ? Should I not fay, 
Hath a dog money ? is it pojfibk, 
A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or 
Shall I bend low, and, in a bondman's key, 
With 'bated breath, and whifp'ring humblenefs, 
Say this, Fair fer^ you fpet on me 'vaednefjay iaft\ 
Yov fpurn d me fuch a day ; another time 
You calFd me ~ dog ; and for thise ccurtejiet 
I'll lend you thus much monies. 

ANT. I am as like to call thee fo again, 
To fpet on thee again, to fpurn t'nee t jo. 
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not 
As to thy friends ; (for when did friendship take 
A breed for barren metal of his friend:) 
But lend it rather to thine enemy; 
Who if he break, thou may'ft with better face 

** on me on Wed 

1 8 The Merchant of Venice. 

Exact the penalty. 

Sur. Why, look you, how you ftorm ? 
I would be friends with you, and have your love, 
Forget the fhames that you have ftain'd we with, 
Supply your present wants, and take no doit 
Of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me; 
This is kind I offer. 

EAS. 3g, this were kindnefs. 

SET. This kindnefs will I mow:^. 
Go with me to a notary, feal me there 
Your Cngle bond; and, in a merry fport, 
If you repay me not on fuch a day, 
In fuch a place, fuch fum, or fums, as are 
Expreff'd in the condition, let the forfeit 
Be nominated for an equal pound 
Of your fair flelh, to be cut off and taken 
In what part of your body pleaseth me. 

ANT. Content, i'faith; I'll feal to fuch a bond, 
And fay, there is much kindnefs in the^-iu. 

BJS. You fhall not feal to fuch a bond for me, 
I'll rather dwell in my neceffity. 

Ayr. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it; 
Within these two months, that's a month before 
This bond expires, I do expect return 
Of thrice three times the value of the bond. 

Snr. O father Abraham, what the chriftians are ; 
Whose own hard dealing teaches them fufpeft 
The thoughts of others !_Pray you, tell me this, 
If he mould break his day, what mould 1 gain 
By the exaction of the forfeiture ? 
A pound of man's flelh, taken from a man, 
Is not fo eilimable, profitable neither, 

The Her chant of Venice. 1 9 

As flefh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I fay, 
To buy his favour, I extend this friendflrip: 
If he will take it, fo; if not, adieu; 
And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not. 

JJN-T. Yes, Sbylcck, I will feal unto this bond. 

SHY. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's; 
Give him dire&ion for this merry bond : 
And I will go and purfe the ducats ftraight; 
Look to my houfe, left in the fearful guard 
Of an unthrifty knave; and presently 
I will be with you. 

AST. Hye thee, gentle y<?w._ [Exit SHYLOCK. 
The Hebrew will turn chriftian, he grows kind. 

BAS. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind. 

Attr. Come on ; in this there can be no difmay, 
My mips come home a month before the day. {Exeunt. 

$C E N E I. Belmont. A Room in Portia's Houfe. 

Enter Prince of Morocco, and Train, with PORTIA j 

Neriffa, and Others, attending. 

MJR. Miflike me not for my complexion, 
The fhadow'd livery of the burnim'd fun, 
To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred : 
Bring me the faireft creature northward born, 
Where Phoebus' fire fcarce thaws the ificles, 
And let us make incision for your love, 
To prove whose blood is reddeft, his, or mine. 
I tell thee, lady, this afpeft of mine 
Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love I fwear, 


20 Tie Merchant of Venice. 

The beft regarded virgins of our clime 

Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue, 

Except to Heal your thoughts, my gentle queen. 

FOR. In terms of choice J am not folely led 
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes: 
Befides, the lottery of my deftiny 
Bars me the right of volantary choosing: 
But, if my father had not fcanted me, 
And hedg'd me by his will, to yield myfelf 
His wife, who wins me by that means I told you, 
Yourfelf, renowned prince, then flood as fair, 
As any comer I have look'd on yet, 
For my affection. 

MOA. Even for that I thank you; 
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the cafkets, 
To try my fortune. By this fcymitar, 
That flew the fophy, and a Perfian prince, 
That won three fields of fultan Soljman, 
I would o'er-ftare the fterneft eyes that look, 
Out-brave the heart moft daring on the earth, 
Pluck the young fucking cubs from the fhe bear, 
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 
To win thee, lady: But, alas the while \ 
If Hercules, and Lycbas, play at dice 
Which is the better man, the greater throw 
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 
So is Abides beaten by his page; 
And fo may I, blind fortune leading me, 
Mifs that which one unworthier may attain, 
And die with grieving. 

FOR. You muft take your chance; 
And either not attempt to choose at all, 

9 his wit to *3 the Lady *7 his rage 

<Tke Merchant <7/Venice. 21 

Or fwear, before you choose, if you choose wrong, 

Never to fpeak to lady afterward 

In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd. 

MO'R. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance. 

FOR, Firft, forward to the temple; after dinner 
Your hazard (hall be made. 

MOR. Good fortune then! 
To make me bleft, or curfed'ft among men. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. Venice. A Street. 
Enter Launcelot Gobbo, the Clown. 

Clo. Certainly, my confcience will ferve me to run 
from this Jew my mafter : The fiend is at mine elbow ; 
and tempts me, faying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gob- 
bo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot 
Gobbo, use your legs, take the ft art, run away: my con- 
fcience fays, no; take heed, honejl Launcelot; take heed, 
honeft Gobbo, or, as aforefaid, honeft Launcelot Gobbo; 
do not run, jftrn running with thy heels : Well, the moft 
courageous fiend bids me pack; via, fays the fiend; a- 
*vaay, fays the fiend, for the heavens; rouse up a brave 
mind, fays the fiend, and run: well, my confcience, hang- 
ing about the neck of my heart, fays very wisely to me, 

my honejl friend Launcelot, being an honeft man s Jon, 
or rather an honeft woman's fon ; for, indeed, my father 
did fomething fmack, ibmething grow to, he had a kind 
of tafte; well, my confcience fays, Launcelot, bouge 
not; bouge, fays the fiend; bouge not, fays my confcience: 
Confcience, fay I, you counfel well; fiend, fay I, you 
counfel well: to be rul'd by my confcience, I mould (lay 
with the Jew my mafter, who, God blefs the mark, is 
a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I 

>9 v. Nate. 


22 The Merchant of Venice. 

fhould be ruled by the fiend, who, faving your reverence, 
is the devil himfelf: Certainly, thejfzu is the very de- 
vil- incarnation ; and, in ray confcience, my confcience 
is but a kind of hard confcience, to offer to counfel me 
to ftay with the^^-.- the fiend gives the more friendly 
counfel; I will run, fiend, my heels are at your com- 
mandment, I will run. 

Enter old Gobbo, his Father, laitb 
a Bajket. 

Fat. Matter young man, you, I pray you, which is 
the way to matter Jew's ? 

Clo. " O heavens, this is my true-begctten father!" 
" who, being more than fand-blind, high-gravel-blind," 
knows roe not: I will try confusions with him." 

fat. Matter young gentleman, I pray you, which is 
the way to matter Jew's ? 

Clo. Turn up on your right hand, at the next turn- 
ing, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, 
at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn 
down indireclly to the Jew's houfe. 

Fat. By God's fonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. 
Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with 
him, dwell with him, or no? 

Clo. Talk you of young matter Lauitce/ot .*_" Mark" 

" me now; now will I raise the waters:" Talk you of 

young matter Launcelot? 

Fat. No matter, fir, but a poor man's fon ; his fa- 
ther, though I fay it, is an honeft exceeding poor man, 
and, God be thanked, well to live. 

Clo. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of 
young matter Launcelot. 

Fat. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, fir. 

The Merchant of Venice, 23 

do. But, I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I befeech 
you; Talk you of young matter Launcelot ? 

Fat. Of Lauiicelct, an't please your mafterfhip. 

Clo. Ergo, made rLauncelot, talk not of mafter Laan- 
ce!ot, father; for the young gentleman (according to 
fates, and deftinies, and fuch odd fayings, the fillers 
three, and fuch branches of learning) is, indeed, de- 
cenfed ; or, as you would fay in plain terms, gone to 

Fat. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very fiaff 
of my age, my very prop. 

Clo. Do 1 lock like a cudgel, or a hovel-poft, a ftaff, 
or a prop? Do you know me, father? 

Fat. Alack the day, I know you not, young gen- 
tleman : but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy (God reft 
his foul !) alive, or dead ? 

Clo. Do you not know me, father? 

Fat. Alack, fir, 1 am fand-blind, I know you not. 

Clo. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might 
fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father, that knows 
his own child. Weil, old man, I will tell you news of 
your fon: give me your blefling: truth will come to 
light; murther cannot be hid long, a man's fon may; 
but, in the end, truth will out. 

Fat. Pray you fir, Hand up; I am fure, you are not 
Launcelot my boy. 

Clo. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, 
but give me your bleffing; I am Launcelot, your boy 
that was, your fon that is, your child that fhall be. 

Fat. \ cannot think, you are my fon. 

Clo. I know not what I (hall think of that: but I 
am Launcdrt, theyViv's man; and, I am fure, Margery , 

G 3 

24 The Merchant of Venice. 

your wife, is my mother. 

Fat. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be fworn, if 
thou beLauncelot, thou art mine own flefh and blood. 
Lord woHhip'd he be, what a beard haft thou got! thou 
haft got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my fil-hcrfe 
has on his tail. 

C/o. It fhould feem then, that Dobbin's tail grows 
backward; I am fure, he had more hair of his tail, than 
I have of my face, when I laft faw him. 

Fat. Lord, how art thou chang'd ! How doft thou 
and thy mailer agree ? I have brought him a present ; 
How 'gree you now? 

CIo. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have 
fet up my reft to run away, fo I will not reft 'till I have 
run fome ground : My mailer's a very^-iv; Give him a 
present! give him a halter: I am famifh'd in his fervice; 
you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, 
I am glad you are come; give me your present to one 
mafter BaJ/hnio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; 
if I ferve not him, I will run as far as God has any 

ground ,O rare fortune! here comes the man : to him, 

father; for I am ajfeiv, if I ferve they^w any longer. 

Enter BASSANIO, with a Servant, and 

other Folloiven. 

Bjs. You may do fo; but let it be fo hafled, that 
fupper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock: See 
these =J= letters deliver'd ; put the liveries to making; and 
desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. 

[to a Follower, <vubo io r ws t and goes out., 

Clo. To him, father. 

Fat. God blefs your worfliip! 

BAS, Gramercy; Would'lt thou ought with mej 

The Merchant of Venice. 25 

Fat. Here's my fon, -fir, a poor boy, 

C/o. Not a poor boy, fir, but the rich Je-'w's man ; 
that would, fir, as my father fnall fpecify. 

Fat. He hath a great infedion, fir, as one would 
fay, to ferve 

Clo. Indeed, the (hort and the long is, I ferve the 
yenu, and have a desire as my father (hall fpecify. 

Fat. His matter and he (faving your worfhip's reve- 
rence) are fcarce cater-cousins : 

Clo. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew* 
having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, 
being I hope an old man, mall fruitify unto you. 

Fat. I have here a difli of doves, that I would be- 
ftovv upon your worfhip ; and my fuit is, 

Clo. In very brief, the fuit is impertinent to myfelf, 
as your worfhip fhall know by this honeft old man ; 
and, though I fay it, though old man, yet, poor man, 
my father. 

BAS. One fpeak for both;_What would your 

Clo. Serve you, fir. 

Fat. That is the very defect of the matter, fir. 

BAS. I know thee well, thou haft obtain'd thy fuit: 
Shykck, thy mailer, fpoke with me this day, 
And hath prefer'd thee; if it be preferment, 
To leave a rich Jtw's fervice to become 
The follower of fo poor a gentleman. 

Clo. The old proverb is very well parted between 
my mafter Shylock and you, fir; you have the grace of 
God, fir, and he hath enough. 

AS . Thou fpeak'il it well : Go, father, with thy fon ; 
Take leave of thy old mailer, and enquire 
My lodging out: give him a livery 

2 6 The Merchant of Venice. 

More garded than his fellows; fee it done. 

Clo. Father, in ;_I cannot get a fervice, no; I have 
ne'er a tongue in my head- Well, if any man in Italy' 
have a fairer table, which doth offer to fwear upon a 
book, 1 mail have good fortune, Go to, here's a fim- 
ple line of life! here's a fmall trifle of wives: alas, fif- 
teen wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine maids, 
is a fimple coming in for one man: and then, to 'fcape 
drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the 
edge of a feather-bed ; here are fimple 'fcapes! Well, if 

fortune be a woman, fhe's a good wench for this geer 

Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Je*w in the 
twinkling of an eye. \Exeunt Clown, and Father. 

BAS. 1 pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this; 
These things being bought, and orderly beftow'd, 
Return in hafte, for I do~feaft to-night 
My beft-efteem'd acquaintance; hye thee, go. 

Ser. My beft endeavours fhall be done herein. 

GRA. Where is your mafter? 

Ser. Yonder, fir, he walks. [E Xii Servant. 

GRA. Signior Baffanio, 

BAS. Gratiano! 

GRA. I have a fuit to you. 

BAS. You have obtain 'd it. 

GRA. f2ap, you mult not deny me; I mult go 
With you to Belmont. 

BAS. Why, then you muft : But hear thee, Gratlane\ 
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice; 
Parts, that become thee happily enough, 
And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults ; 
But where thou art not known, why, there they {how 

The Merchant of Venice. 27 

Something too liberal; pray thee, take pain 

To allay with fome cold drops of modefty 

Thy {kipping fpirit ; left, through thy wild behaviour, 

I be mifconftru'd in the place J go to, 

And lose my hopes. 

GRA. Signior SnJ/anio, hear me: 
If I do not put on a fober habit, 
Talk with refpefl, and fwear but now and then, 
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurelyj 
Nay more, while grace is faying, hood mine eyes 
Thus~|~with my hat, and ugh, and fay amen; 
Use all the observance of civility, 
Like one well ftudy'd in a fad oitent 
To please his grandam, never truft me more. 

BAS. Well, we fliall fee your bearing. 

GRA. Nay, but I bar to-night ; you (hall not gage me 
By what we do to-night. 

BAS. No, that were pity; 
I would entreat you rather to put on 
Your boldeft fuit of mirth, for we have friends 
That purpose merriment : But fare you well, 
I have fome businefs. 

GRA. And I muft to Lorenzo, and the reft; 
But we will visit you at fupper-time. [Exeunt. 

SCENE III. 7 'he fame. A Room in Shy lock'* Houfe. 

Enter JESSICA, and Clown. 
JES. I am forry, thou wilt leave my father fo; 
Our houfe is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
Didft rob it of fome tafte of tedioufnefs: 
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for ^ thee. 
And, LaufiCflot, foon at flipper (halt thou fee 

28 Tfa Merchant of Venice. 

Lorenzo, who is thy new matter's gueft; 
Give him this ^letter, do it fecretly, 
And fo farewel; I would not have my father 
See me in talk with thee. 

C/o. Adieu; tears exhibit my tongue; moft beautiful 
pagan, moft fwect JVw/ if a chriftian did not play the 
knave, and get thee, 1 am much deceived: but, adieu; 
these foolifh drops do fomething drown my manly fpi- 
rit; adieu! 

JES. Farewel, good Launcelct,_ [Exit Clown, 

Alack, what heinous fin is it in me, 
To be afliam'd to be my father's child! 
But though I am a daughter to his blood, 
I am not to his manners : O Lorenzo, 
If thou keep promise, I (hall end this ftrife^ 
Become a chriftian, and thy loving wife. \Exit. 

SCENE IV. The fame. A Street. 


LOR. Nay, we will (link away in fupper time; 
Difguise us at my lodging, and return 
All in an hour. 
. . GRA. We have not made good preparation. 

SAL. We have not fpoke us yet of torch-bearers. 
SOL. *Tis vile, unlefs it may be quaintly order'd; 
And better, in my mind, not undertook.- 

LOR. 'Tis now but four o'clock, we have two hours 
To furnilh us :_ Friend Launcelot, what's the news? 

Enter Clown, with a Letter. 

C/o. An it (hall please you to break up this^, it 
fhall feem jo fjgnify. 

The Merchant of Venice. 25 

LOR. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand j 
And whiter than the paper it writ on, 
Is the fair hand that writ. 

GRA . Love-news, i' faith. 

Clo. By your leave, fir. 

LOR. Whither go'it thou ? 

Clo. Marry, fir, to bid my old matter the Jf-iu to 
fup to-night with my new mailer the chriftian. 

LOR. Hold here, take^f this: tell gentle Jejfica, 
I will not fail her; fpeak it privately; go._ 
Gentlemen, [*// Clown. 

Will you prepare you for this mafque to-night? 
J am provided of a torch-bearer. 

SAL. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it ftraight. 

SOL. And fo will I. 

LOR. Meet me, and Graf tana, 
At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence. 

SAL. 'Tis good we do fo. [Exeunt SAL. /zWSot. 

GRA. Was not that letter from farjeffica? 

LOR. I muft needs tell thce all: (he hath directed 
How I mail take her from her father's houfe; 
What gold, and jewels, (he is furnim'd with; 
What page's fuit (he hath in readinefs. 
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, . 
It will be for his gentle daughter's fake: 
And never dare miifortune crofs her foot, 
Unlefs me do it under this excufe, 
That me is iflue to a faithlefs Jew. 
Come, go with me; peruse this^p, as thou go'ft: 
fziTjeffit* {hall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt. 

SCENE V, Vbifame. Before ShylockV Dour. 

30 <Tbe Merchant of Venice. 

Enter SHYLOCK, and Clown. 

Sar. V/ell, thou (halt fee, thy eyes (hall be thy judge, 

The difference of old Shylock and Bcjfanio: 

What, Jeffica!_ thou (halt not gormandize, 

As thou haft done with me; What, Jejfica! 

And fleep, and fnore, and rend apparel out; 

Why, 7^, I fay! 

Clo. Why,Jeficaf 

Snr. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. 

'Clo. Your worfhip was wont to tell me, I could do 
nothing without bidding. 


Jzs. Call you? What is your will? 

Sur. I am bid forth to fupper, Jejfica; 
There are my keys :_ But wherefore (hould I go ? 
I am not bid for love ; they flatter me : 
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon 

The prodigal chriftian. Jejfica, my girl, 

Look to my houfe: I am right loth to go ; 

There is fome ill a brewing towards my reft, 
For I did dream of money-bags to-night. 

Clo. I befeech you, fir, go; my young mafter doth 
expeft your reproach: 

Sar. So do I his. 

Clo. And they have confpired together, I will not 
fay, you (hall fee a mafque; but if you do, then it was not 
>for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black mon- 
day laft, at fix o'clock i' the morning, failing out that 
year on afa-wednesday was four year in the afternoon. 

Sar. What, are there mafquesr_Hear you me,Je/fica: 
Lock up my doors; And when you hear the drum, 
And the vile ftpealing of the wry-neck'd fife, 

The Merchant of Venice. .3 1 

Clamber not you up to the casements then, 
Nor thruft your head into the publick ftreet, 
To gaze on chriltian fools with varniftYd faces: 
But {hut my houfe's ears, I mean, my casements; 
Let not the found of {hallow foppery enter 
My fober houfe By Jacob's ftaff, I fwear, 
I have no mind of feafting forth to-night : 

But I will go Go you before me, firrah; 

Say, I will come. * 

Clo I will go before, fir _ 
Miftrefs, look out at window, -for all this; 
There will come a chriftian by, 
Will be worth a 'Jetuej'i eye. [Exit Clown. 

Ssr. What fays that fool of Hagar's off-fpring, har 

JES. His words were, Farewel, miftrefs; nothing elfe. 

Sar. The patch is kind enough ; but a huge feeder, 
Snail-flow in profit, and he fleeps by day 
More than the wild-cat; drones hive not with me: 
Therefore I part with him; and part with him 
To one, that I would have him help to wafte 

His borrow'd purfe Weil, Jfjfica, go in; 

Perhaps, I will return immediately; 

Do as I bid you, fhut doors after you: 

Fail bind, faft find ; 

A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind. [Exit* 

JES. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft, 
I have a father, you a daughter, lott. [ Exit. 

SCENE VI. The fame. 
Enter GRATIANO, and SALERINO, mafqud. 
GRA. This is the pent-houfe, under which Lorenzo 
Desir'd us to make fiand. 

J z The Merchant of Venice. 

SJL. His hour is almoft part. 

Gxj. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, 
For lovers ever run before the clock. 

SjtL; O, ten times fafter Venus' pidgeons fly, 
To feal love's bonds new made; than they are wont, 
To keep obliged faith unforfeited. 

GRA. That ever holds; Who riseth from a feaft 
With that keen appetite that he fits down ? 
Where is the horfe, that doth untread again 
His tedious measures with the unbated fire 
That he did pace them firft? all things that are 
-Are with mere fpirit chafed than enjoy'd. 
How like a younger, or a prodigal, 
The fkarfed bark puts from her native bay, 
Hug'd and embraced by the {trumpet wind! 
How like a prodigal doth (he return ; 
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged fails, 
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind! 
Enter LORENZO, mafqu\i. 

S^t. Here comes Lorenzo; more of this hereafter. 

LOR. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; 
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: 
When you fhall please to play the thieves for wives, 
I'll watch as long for you then. Come, approach ; 

Heie dwells my father Jenv : Ho! who's within? 

Enter JESSICA, above, in Boy's C/catks. 

jfss. Who are you? tell me, for more certainty,- 
Albeit I'll fwear that I do know your tongue. 

LOR. Lorenzo, and thy love. 

jS. Lorenzo, certain ; and my love, indeed ; 
For who love 1 fo much? and now who knows, 
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? 

The Merchant of Venice. 3$ 

LOR. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witnefs that them 

JES. Here, catch this^cafket, ids worth the pains. [art. 
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, 
For I am much amatn'd of my exchange: 
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee 
The pretty follies that themfelves commit; 
For if they could, CX^'./himfelf would bluih 
To fee me thus tranfformed to a boy. 

LOR. Defcend, for you muft be my torch-bearer. 

JES. What, muft I hold a candle to my fhamesr 
They in themfelves, good footh, are too too light. 
Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, love; 
And I mould be obfcur'd. 

Los.. So are you, fweet, 
Even in the lovely garniih of a boy. 
But come at once ; 

For the clofe night doth play the runaway, 
And we are ftay'd for at Baffanio's feaft. 

JES. I will make fait the doors, and gild myfelf 
With fome more ducats, and be with you ftraight, 

\_E.\it, from above* 

GRA. Now, by mv hood, a gentle, and no Jew. 

LOR. Befhrovv me, but I love her heartily : 
For me is wise, if I can judge of her; 
And fair (he is, if that mine eyes be true; 
And true (he is, as (he hath prov'd herfelf; 
And therefore, like herfelf, wise, fair, and trae, 

Shall me be placed in my conilan: foul 

Ente r j e s s i c A , 

What, art thou come?_On, gentlemen, nway ; 
Oar mafquing mates by this time for us iUy. 

[Exit, <VOltb JESSICA, a/A/SALERlN0. 

34 The Merchant of Venice. 


Ayr. Who's there? 

GS.A. Signior, Antonio? 

ANT. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the reft? 
*Tis nine o'clock ; our friends all ftay for you : 
No mafque to-night; the wind is come about, 
Baflanio presently will go aboard : 
I have fent twenty out to feek for you. 

GRJ. I am glad on't ; I desire no more delight, 
Than to be under fail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt. 

SCENE VII. Belmont. A Room in Portia'* Houfe. 

Flourijb. Enter Prince of Morocco, with PORTIA, 
and both their Trains. 

FOR. Go, draw afide the curtains, and discover 

The feveral caCcets to this noble prince : 

Now make your choice. 

MOR. This firft, of gold, who this infcription bears ; 
Who chooseth me, Jh all gain 'what many men desirt. 
The fecond, filver, which this promise carries; 
Who choose th me, Jh all get as much as be deserves. 
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt ;~" 

Who chooseth me, mvft give and hazard all he hath 

How fhall I know if 1 do choose the right. 

FOR. The one of them contains my picture, prince; 
If you choose that, then I am yours withal. 

Mo*. Some god direct my judgment! Let me fee; 
I will furvey the infcriptions back again : 
What fays this leaden cafltet ? 
Who chooseth me, mujl give and hazard all he hath. 
Muft give,~~For what: for lead? hazard for lead? 
This cafket threatens: Men, that hazard all, 

The Merchant ^Venice. 3 

f)o it in hope of fair advantages: 

A golden mind ftoops not to (hows of drofs ; 

I'll then nor give, nor hazard, ought for Jead. 

What fays the filver, with her virgin hue? 

Whv cbooseth me, Jhall get as much as he deserves. 

As much as he deserves, Pause there, Morocco, 

And weigh thy value with an even hand: 

If thou be'ft rated by thy eftimation, 

Thou deft deserve enough; and yet enough 

May not extend fo far as to the lady; 

And yet to be afeard of my deserving 

Were but a weak difabling of myfelf. 

As much as T deserve, Why, that's the lady: 

I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, 

in graces, and in qualities of breeding; 

But, more than these, in love I do deserve. 

What if I ftray'd no farther, but chose here? 

Let's fee once more this faying 'grav'd in gold. 

Who chcoseth me, fi all gain ivhat many men desire. 

Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her: 

From the four corners of the earth they come, 

To kifs this mrine, this mortal breathing faint: 

The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vafty wilds 

Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now, 

For princes to come view fair Portia: 

The vvatry kingdom, whose ambitious head 

Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar 

To flop the foreign fpirits; but they come, 

As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia. 

One of these three contains her heavenly picture. 

Is't like, that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation, 

To think fo bafe a thought; it were too grofs 


36 The Merchant of Venice. 

To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave. 

Or lhall I think, in filver (he's immur'd, 

Being ten times nndervalu'd to try'd gold? 

O finful thought! Never fo rich a jem 

Was fet in worfe than gold. They have in England 

A coin, that bears the figure of an angel 

Stamped in gold ; but that's infculpt upon; 

But here an angel in a golden bed 

Lies all within. _ Deliver me the key; 

Here do I choose, and thrive I as 1 may ! 

FOR . There, take^it, prince; and if my form lye there, 
Then I am yours. 

MOR. O hell! what have we here? 
A carrion death, within whose empty eye 
There is a written fcrowl ? I'll read the writing. 

All that glijiers is not gold; 

Often ba<veyou heard that told ; 

Many a man his life bath fold 

But my ovtfede to behold: 

Gilded tombs do worms enfold. 

Had you bein as 'wise as bold, 

Young in limbs, in judgment old, 

Your anfacer had not been infer ol' 'd ' : 

Fare you well ', your Juit is cold. 
Cold, indeed; and labour loft: 

Then, farewel, heat; and, welcome, froft._ 
Portia, adieu ! 1 have too griev'd a heart 
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Exit. 

FOR. A gentle riddance: Draw the curtains, go:_ 
Let all of his complexion choose me fo. [Exeunt. 

SCENE VJII. Venice. AStreet' 
* Gui'Jtd timber dte 

ne Merchant of Venice. 37 


S^l. Why, man, I faw BaJJanio under fail; 
With him is Gratiano gone along; 
And in their Ihip, I am fure, Lorenzo is not. 

SOL . The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke ; 
Who went with him to fearch Bajam'o's (hip. 

SAL. He came too late, the (hip was under fail: 
But there the duke was given to underftand, 
That in a gondola were feen together 
Lorenzo and his amorousy^ira: 
Befides, Antonio certify'd the duke, 
They were not with Baffanio in his (hip. 

SOL. I never heard a paffion fo confus'dj 
So ftrange, outrageous, and fo variable, 
As the dog Jew did utter in the flreets: 
My daugbten, O my ducats! my daughter! 
Fled 'with a chrijiian, O my chrijiian ducats! 
Ju/lice ! the law ! my ducats, and my daughter !""* 
A fealed bag, twojealed bags of ducats, 
Of double ducats, Jloln from me by my daughter ! 
And jewels ; two ft ones, two rich and precious Jlones t 
Stain by my daughter! "Juftice! find the girl! 
She hath the ftones upon her, and the ducats! 

SAL. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, 
Crying, his ftones, his daughter, and his ducats. 

SOL. Let good Antonio look he keep his day* 
Or he (hall pay for this. 

SAL. Marry, well remember'd: 
I reasoned with a Frenchman yefterday ; 
Who told me, in the narrow feas, that part 
The French and Englijh, there mifcarried 
A ve(Tel of our country, richly fraught: 


38 7 'be Merchant of Venice* 

I thought upon Antonio, when he told me; 
And wifh'd in filence, that it were not his. 

SOL. You were beft to tell Antonio what you hear j 
Yet do not fuddenly, left it may grieve him. 

SAL. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 
I faw Bajfanio and Antonio part : 
Bajfanio told him, he would make fbme {peed 
Of his return ; he anfwer'd, Do not fo, 
Slubber not buiinefs for my fake, Baffanio, 
But J} ay the very riping of the time\ 
And for the Jew'j bond, which he hath of me* 
Let it not enter in your mind of love: 
Be merry ; and employ your chief ejl thoughts 
To court jhip, and fuch fair ojlents of love 
As Jhall conveniently become you there: 
And even there, his eye being big with tears, 
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, 
And with affeclion wondrous fenfible 
He wrung BaJ/anio's hand, and fo they parted. 

SOL. -1 think, he only loves the world for him. 
I pray thee, let us go and find him out, 
And quicken his embraced heavinels 
With fome delight or other. 

&.. Dowefo. [Exeunt* 

SCENE IX. Belmont. A Room in Portia'/ Houfe. 

Enter N E R i s s A , and a Servant. 
NER. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain 
The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, [ftraightj. 
And comes to his eledtion presently. 

Flourijb. Enter the Prince of Arragon,. 
PORTIA, and their Trains. 

The Merchant of Venice. 39 

FOR. Behold, there ~f Hand the cafkets, noble prince-: 
If you choose that wherein I an? fontain'd, 
Straight fhall our nuptial rites be fblemniz'd; 
But if you fail, without more fpeech, my lord, 
You muft be gone from hence immediately. 

ARR. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things : 
Firft, never to unfold to any one 
Which cafket 'twas 1 chose ; next, if I fail 
Of the right cafket, never in my life 
To woo a maid in way of marriage; laftly, 
Jf I do fail in fortune of my choice, 
Immediately to leave you and be gone. 

FOR. To these injunctions every one doth fwar, 
That comes to hazard for my worthlefs felf. 

JRR. And fo have I addreft me: Fortune now 
To my heart's hope! _ Gold, filver, and bafe lead. 
Who choossth me, muft give and hazard all he hath : 
You (hall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. 
What fays the golden cheil? ha! let me fee: _ 
Who choosetb me, Jhall gain ivhat many men desire* 
What many men desire, That many may be meant 
Of the fool multitude, that choose by mow, 
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; 
Which pries not to the interiour, but, like the martlet, 
Builds in the weather on the outward wall, 
Even in the force and road of casualty. 
I will not choose what many men desire, 
Because I will not jump with common fpirits, 
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. 
Why, then to thee, thou filver treasure-houfe ; 
Teil me once more what title thou doft bear: 
Who chooseth me, Jhall get as much as he 

By the 

H 3 

40 The Merchant of Venice. 

And well faid too; For who (hall go about 

To cozen fortune, and be honourable 

Without the ftamp of merit? Let none presume 

To wear an undeserved dignity. 

O, that eftates, degrees, and offices, 

Were not deriv'd corruptly ! and that clear honour 

Were purchaf'd by the merit of the wearer! 

How many then mould cover, that ftand bare? 

How many be commanded, that command? 

How much low peasantry would then be gleaned 

From the true feed of honour? and how much honour 

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times, 

To be new varnifh'd? Well, but to my choice: 

Who chooseth me, Jhall get as much as be deserves: 

I will aflume desert; Give me a key for this;__ 

And inflantly unlock my fortunes here. 

Pos,. ^Toolongapauseforthatwhichyoufindthere.'* 
ARR. What's here? the portrait of a blinking ideot. 
Presenting me a fchedule? I will read it. 
How much unlike art thou to Portia? 
How much unlike my hopes, and my deservings? 
Who choosetb me, Jhall have as much as be deserves : 
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head? 
Js that my prize? are my deserts no better? 

FOR. To offend, and judge, are diftinft offices, 
And of opposed natures. 
ARR. What is here? 

The fire feven times tried this ; 

Seven times trfd that judgment is, 

That did never choose amis : 

Some there be, that Jhadoixs kis; 

Spcb have but a Jhado-vas blii : 

The Merchant of Venice. 4.1 

'There befools alive, I <uuis, 
Stiver' d o'er ; and fo 'was this. 
'Take 'what <wifiyou will to bed, 
J will e<ver be your head: 
Sofare c wel,Jtr,you are ff>ed. 

Still more fool I {hall appear 
By the time I linger here : 
With one fool's head I came to woo, 

But 1 go away with two 

Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath, 
Patiently to bear my wroath. 

[Exeunt Arragon, and Train, 
FOR. Thus hath the candle findg'd the moath 
O these deliberate fools! when they do choose, 
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. 
NER, The ancient faying is no herefy;~~" 
Hanging, and wiving, goes by deftiny. 
FOR. Come, draw the curtain, NeriJJa. 

Enter a Servant. 
Ser. Where is my lady? 
FOR, Here; What would my lord? 
Ser. Madam, there is alighted at your gate 
A young J'e net i an, one that comes before 
To fignify the approaching of his lord: 
From whom he bringeth fenfible regreets; 
To wit, befides commends, and courteous breath, 
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not feen 
So likely an embafiador of love: 
A day in April never came fo fvveet, 
To (how how coftly fummer was at hand, 
As this fore-fpurrier comes before his lord. 
FOR. No more, 1 pray thee; 1 am half afeard, 

42 %'be Merchant of Venice. 

Thou wilt fay anon, he is fome kin to thee, 
Thou fpend'ft fuch high-day wit in praising him..-. 
Come, come, Nerifla. ; for I long to fee 
Quick Cupid's poll, that comes fo mannerly. 

NER. BaJ/anio, lord love, if thy will it be! [Exeunt. 

A C Till. 

SCENE I. Venice. A Street. 

SOL. Now, what news on the Ryalto? 

SJL. Why, yet it lives there unchecked, that Antonio 
hath a fhip of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow feas ; 
the GeoJwtMi I think, they call the place; a very dan- 
gerous fiat, and fatal, where the carcafies of many a tall 
Ihip lye bury'd, as they fay, if my goffip report be an 
honelt woman of her word. 

SOL. I would me were as lying a goffip in that, as 
ever knapt ginger, or made her neighbours believe flie 
wept for the death of a third husband : But it is true, 
without any flips of prolixity, or croffing the plain high- 
way of talk, that the good Antonio, the honeft Antonio^ 
O, that I had a title good enough to keep his name 

SJL. Come, the full flop. 

SOL . Ha, what fayeft thou ? Why, the end is, he hath 
loft a (hip. 

SAL. I would it might prove the end of his lofTes! 

SOL. Let me fay, amen, betimes, left the devil crofs 
my prayer j for here he comes in the likenefs of a Jew. 

The Merchant of Venice. 4J 

How now, Sbylock? what news among the merchants? 

Snr. You knew, none fo well, none fo well as you, 
of my daughter's flight. 

SJL. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor 
that made the wings fhe flew withal. 

SOL. kndiSbylock, for his own part, knew the bird 
was fledge ; and then it is the complexion of them all 
to leave the dam. 

Sar. She is damn'd for it. 

SAL. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. 

Sar. My own flefli and blood to rebel! 

SOL. Out upon it, old carrion ! rebels it at these years? 

Szr. I fay, my daughter is my flefh and my blood. 

SAL. There is more difference between thy flefh and 
hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your 
bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenifh: 
But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any 
lofs at fea or no? 

SHY. There I have another bad match : a bankrupt, 
a prodigal, who dare fcarce (hew his head on the Ry- 
a.lto\ a beggar, that was us'd to come fo fmug upon the 
mart; let him look to his bond: he was wont to call 
me usurer; let him look to his bond : he was wont to 
lend money for a chriftian courtefy; let him look to his 

SAL . Why, I am fure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take 
his flefh; What's that good for? 

SHT. To bait fifh withal : if it will feed nothing elfe, 
it will feed my revenge. He hath difgrac'd me, and 
hinder'd me half a million; laugh'd at my lofTes, mock'd 
at my gains, fcorn'd roy ration, thwarted my bargains, 
cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies; And what's 

4f 1'be Merchant of Venice. 

his reason? I am zjenv: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath 
cot &y.e-iv hands; organs, dimenfions, fenfes, affections, 
paffions? fed with the fame food, hurt with the fame 
weapons, fubjeft to the fame diseases, healed by the fame 
means, warmed and cooled by the fame winter and fum- 
mer as a chriftian is? if you prick us, do we not bleed? 
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do 
we not dier and if you wrong us, fhall we not revenge? 
if we are like you in the reft, we will resemble you in 
that. If a Jew wrong a chriftian, what is his humility? 
revenge: Jf a chriftian wrong a Jew, what mould his 
fufferance be by chriftian example? why, revenge. The 
villany you teach me, I will execute; and it fhall go 
hard, but I will better the inftruclion. 
Enter a Servant. 

Ser. Gentlemen, my mafter dntonio is at his houfe, 
and desires to fpeak with you both. 

SJL. We have been up and down to feek him. 
Enter TUB AL. 

SOL. Here comes another of the tribe; a third can- 
not be match'd, unlefs the devi! himfelf turn Jeiu. 

[Exeunt SOL. SAL. and Ser. 

SHY. How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa.? hall 
thou found my daughter? 

TUB. I often came where I did hear of her, but can- 
HOt find her. 

Sur. Why there, there, there, there; a diamond 
gone, coft me two thousand ducats in Frankfort : The 
curfe never fell upon our nation 'till now ; I never felt 
it 'till now: two thousand ducats in that; and other 
precious precious jewels, I would my daughter were 
{lead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear ! 'wo.uld fhfi 

1'hc Merchant of Venice. 4j 

Vvere hearf'd at my foot, apd the ducats in her coffin! 
No news of them? Why, fo : and I know not what's 
fpent in the fearch. Why, thou lofs upon lofs! the thief 
gone with fo much, and fo much to find the thief; and 
no fatiffa&ion, no revenge : nor no ill luck ftirring, but 
what lights o'my moulders; no fighs, but o'my breath- 
ing; no tears, but o'my (hedding. 

-I'UB. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antonio, as I 
heard in Genoa, 

Sur. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? 

TUB. hath an argofy caft away, coming from Tri- 

Sur. I thank God, I thank God:_Is it true, is it 
true ? 

7'us. F fpoke with fome of the failors that efcaped 
the wreck. 

Sar. I thank thee, good !Ta<W;_Good news, good 
news! ha, ha! Where/ in Genoa? 

TVS. Your daughter fpent in Genoa, as I heard, one 
night fourfcore ducats. 

Sur. Thou fHck'ft a dagger in me: I mall never 

fee my gold again ; Fourfcore ducats at a fitting! four- 
fcore ducats! 

TUB. There came divers of Antonio 1 ?, creditors in my 
company to Peaicf, that fwear he cannot choose but 

Sur. J am very glad of it; I'll plague him, I'll tor- 
ture him; I am glad of it. 

TUB. One of them {hewed me a ring, that he had of 
your .daughter for a monkey. 

Sirs. Out upon her! Thou torturefl me,. Tubal: it 
vvas my turquoise; I had it of Leah, when I vvas a ba- 

?8 hs, hcere in 

46 The Merchant of Venice. 

chelor : I would not have given it for a wildernefs of 

TUB. Eat Antonio is certainly undone. 

Sur. Nay, that's true, that's very true : Go, Tulal t 
fee me an officer, befpeak him a fortnight before ; I will 
have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of 
Venice, I can make what merchandize I will : Go, 91*- 
&a!, and meet me at our fynagogue; go, good Tulal; 
at our fynagogue, Tubal. \Exeunt, federally. 

SCENE II. Belmont. A Room in Portia'/ Houfe. 

and Train. Cajketsfet out. 
POR. I pray you, tarry; pause a day or two, 
Before you hazard ; for, in choosing wrong, 
1 Jose your company; therefore, forbear a while: 
There's fomething tells me, (but it is not love) 
I would not lose you; and you know yourfelf, 
Hate ccunfels not in fuch a quality: 
But left you mould not underftand me well, 
(And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought) 
1 would detain you here fome month or two, 
Before you venture for me. I could teach you 
How to choose right, but then I am forfworn; 
So will i never be: fo may you mifs me; 
-,But if you do, you'll make me wilh a fin, 
That I had been forfworn. Beflirow your eyes, 
They have o'er-look'd me, and divided me; 
Or.e half of me is yours, the other yours, 
]V!ine own, I would fay; but if mine, then yours, 
And fo all yours: O, these naughty times 
Put .bars between the owners and their rights; 

2 .9 other balfe yours 

<Tbe Merchant ^Venice. 4.7 

And fo, though yours, not yours, Prove it not fo! 

Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. 

I fpeak too long; but 'tis to piece the time, 

To eke it, and to draw it out in length, 

To ftay you from ele&ion. 

BAS. Let me choose; 
For, as I am, I live upon the rack. 

FOR. Upon the rack, BaJ/anio? then confefs 
What treason there is mingl'd with your love. 

BAS. None, but that ugly treason of miftruft, 
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love : 
There may as well be amity and life 
'Tween fnow and fire, as treason and my love. 

FOR. Ay, but, I fear, you fpeak upon the rack, 
Where men enforced do fpeak any thing. 

Eds. Promise me life, and I'll confefs the truth. 
FOR. Well then, confefs, and live. 
BAS. Confefs, and love, 
Had been the very fum of my confeflion : 
O happy torment, when my torturer 
Doth teach me anfwers for deliverance! 
But let me to my fortune and the cafkets. 

FOR. Away then: I am lock'd in one of them; 
If you do love me, you will find me out 
Nerija, and the reft, ftand all aloof- 
Let musick found, while he doth make his choice ; 
Then, if he lose, he makes a fwan-like end, 
Fading in musick: that the comparifon 
May ftand more proper, my eye mail be the flreaia, 
And watry death- bed for him: He may win; 
And what is musick then? then musick is 
Even as the flourilh when true fubje&s bow 

3 peize the 

48 1"ke Merchant ^ Venice. 

To a new-crowned monarch : fuch it is, 
As are those dulcet founds in break of day, 
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear, 
And fummon him to marriage. Now he goes, 
With no lefs presence, but with much more love. 
Than young Abides, when he did redeem 
The virgin tribute pay'd by howling Troy 
To the fea-monfter: 1 fland for facrifice ; 
The reft aloof are the Dardanian wives, 
With bleared visages, come forth to view 
The iflue o'the exploit. Go, Hercules', 
Live thou, I live: with much much more difmay 
I view the fight, than thou that mak'ft the fray. 
Mustek', the <T.vbilft BafTanio comments 
on the Cajkets to himjelf. 


1 . V. Tell me, where is fancy bred, 
or in the heart, or in the head? 
bmv beget, bow nourijbed? 

reply, reply. 

2. V. // is engender' d in the eyes, 
with gazing fed; and fancy dies 
in the cradle where it lies: 

Let us all ring fancy's knell; 
Til begin it, Ding dang, bell. 

all. Ding dong, bell. 

S^s. So may the outward {hows be leaft themfelvesj 
The world is ftill deceiv'd with ornament. 
In law, what plea fo tainted and corrupt, 
But, being feason'd with a gracious voice, 
Obfcures the mow of evil? Jn religion, 
What damned error, but fome fober brow 

The Merchant of Venice. 49 

Will blefs it, and approve it with a text, 

Hiding the groflhefs with fair ornament ? 

There is no vice fo fimple, but affumes 

Some mark of virtue on his outward parts. 

How many cowards, whose hearts are all as falfe 

As flairs of fand, wear yet upon their chins 

The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars; 

Who, inward fearch'd, have livers white as milk? 

And these aflame but valour's excrement, 

To render them redouted. Look on beauty. 

And you fhall fee 'tis purchaf : d by the weight ; 

Which therein works a miracle in nature, 

Making them lighteft that wear molt of it: 

So are those crifped fnaky golden locks, 

Which make fuch wanton gambols with the wind, 

Upon fupposed fairnefs, often known 

To be the dowry of a fecond head, 

The fcull that bred them in the fepulcherv 

Thus ornament is but the gilded more 

To a moft dangerous fea; the beauteous fcarf 

Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word, 

The feeming truth which cunning times put on 

To entrap the wiseft. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 

Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee : 

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 

Tween man and man: but thou, thou meager lead. 

Which rather threaten'!* than doft promise ought, 

Thy plainnefs moves me more than eloquence, 

And here choose I; Joy be the confequence! 

PQR. How all the other paffions fleet to air, 
As doubtful thoughts, and ram-embrac'd defpair, 
And muddering fear, and green-ey'd jealoufy. 

'5 make? *S thy palines 

5 The Merchant of Venice* 

love, be moderate, allay thy extafy, 

In measure rain thy joy, leant this excefs; 

1 feel too much thy bleffing, make it lefs, 
For fear I furfeit! 

BAS. fi;a! what find I here? 
Fair Portia's counterfeit? What demy-god 
Hath come fo near creation? Move these eyes? 
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
Seem they in motion? Here are fever'd lips, 
Parlcd with fugar breath; fo fweet a bar 
Should funder luch fweet friends: Here in her haira 
The painter plays the fpider; and hath woven 
A golden mefh to entrap the hearts of men, 
Faller than gnats in cobwebs: But her eyes, 
How could he fee to do them ? having made one, 
Methinks, it mould have power to Real both his, 
And leave itfelf unfurnifh'd: Yet, look, how far 
The fubftance of my praise doth wrong this fhadovv 
In underprizing it, fo far this fhadow 
Doth limp behind the fubftance. Here's the'ffcrowl, 
The continent and fummary of my fortune. 

Ton, that choose not by the view, 

Chance as fair, and choose aj true! 

Since this fortune Jails to ycu, 

Be content, and jeek no neiv. 

If you be well pleas' d <with this, 

And hold year fortune for your bits, 

Turn you where your lady is, 

And claim her with a loving fit. 

,A gentle fcrowl; Fair lady, by your leave; 

J come by note, to give, and to receive. 
Like one of two contending in a prize, 

The Merchant o/^Veni 

That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, 
Hearing applause, and universal ihout, 
Giddy in fpirit, ftill gazing, in a doubt 
Whether those peals of praise be his or no; 
So, thrice fair lady, Hand I, even fo; 
As doubtful whether what I fee be true, 
Until confirmed, fign'd, ratify'd by you. 

FOR. You fee me, lord Baffanio, where I ftand, 
Such as I am: though, for myfelf alone, 
I would not be ambitions in my wifli, 
To wifh myfelf much better; yet, for you, 
I would be trebl'd twenty times myfelf; 
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times 
More rich ; that to ftand high in your account, 
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, 
Exceed account: but the full fum of me 
Is fum of fomething; which, to term in grofs^ 
Is an unleffon'd girl, unfchool'd, unpraclic'd : 
Happy in this, flie is not yet fo old 
But (he may learn; happier than this, in t^at 
She is not bred fo dull but me can learn; 
Happieft of all, is, that her gentle fpirit 
Commits itfelf to yours to be directed, 
As from her lord, her governor, her king. 
Myfelf, and what is mine, to you, and yoursj 
Is now converted: but now I was the lord 
Of this fair manfion, mailer of my fervants, 
(!ueen o'er myfelf; and even now, but now, 
This houfe, these fervants, and this fame myfelf, 
Are yours, my lord; I give them with this =}= ring; 
Which when you part from, lose, or give away, 
Let it prcfagethe ruin of your love, 


52 The Merchant gf Venice. 

And be my vantage to exclaim on you. 

SAS,- Madam, you have bereft me of all words* 
Only my blood fpeaks to you in my veins : 
And there is fuch confusion in my powers, 
As, after fome oration fairly (poke 
By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
Among the buzzing pleased multitude; 
Where every fomething, being blent together, 
Turns to a wild of nothing, fave of joy, 
Expreft, and not expreft : But when this ring 
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence j 
O, then be bold to fay, Baflanio's dead. 

NER. My lord, and lady, it is now our time, 
That have flood by, and feen our wifhes profper, 
To cry, good joy; Good joy, my lord, and ladyl 

GRA. My lord Baffanio, and my gentle lady, 
I wifti you all the joy that you can wifti; 
For, I am fure, you can wifh none from me: 
And, when your honours mean to folemnize 
The bargain of your faith, I do befeech you, 
Even at that time I may be marry'd top. 

SAS. With all my heart, fo thou canft get a wife* 

GRA. I thank your lordfhip; you have got me one. 
My eyes, my lord, can look as fwift as yours : 
You faw the miftrefs, I beheld the maid; 
You lov v d, 1 lov'd; for intermiffion 
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 
Your fortune iiocjd upon the cafkets there; 
And fo did mine too, as the matter falls : 
For wooing here, until 1 fweat again ; 
And fwearing, 'till my very roof was dry 
With oaths of lovej at laft, if promise laft, " 

The Merchant gf Venice. j3 

I got a promise of this fair one here, 

To have her love, provided that your fortune 

Atchiev'd her miftrefs. 

FOR. Is this true, NeriJ/a? 

NER. Madam, it is, fo you ftand pleas'd withal. 

BAS. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? 

GRA. Yes, 'faith, my lord. [riage. 

BAS. Our feaft fliall be much honour'd in your mar- 

GRA. We'll play with them, the firft boy, for a thou- 
sand ducats. 

NER. What, and flake down? [down._ 

GRA. No; we {hall ne'er win at that fport, and itake 
But who comes here? Lorenzo, and his infidel? 
What, and my old Venetian friend, Salerio ? 


BAS. Lorenzo, and Salerio, welcome hither; 
If that the youth of my new intereft here 
Have power to bid you welcome: _By your leave, 
I bid my very friends, and countrymen, 
Sweet Portia, welcome. 

FOR. So do I, my lord; 
They are entirely welcome. 

LOR. I thank your honour* For my part, my lord, 

My purpose was not to have feen you here; 
But meeting with Salerio by the way, 
He did entreat me, paft all faying nay, 
To come with him along. 

SAL. I did, my lord; 
And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio 
Commends him to you. {delivering a Letter, 

BAS. Ere I ope his letter, 
I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. 

54 7be Merchant of Venice. 

SAL. Not fick, my lord, unlefs it be in mind ; 
Nor well, unlefs in mind : his letter there 
Will (how you his eftate. 

GRA. Neriffa, cheer yon' ftranger, bid her welcome.. 
Your hand, Salerio', What's the news from Venice? 
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? 
I know, he will be glad of our fucceis; 
We are the Jafom, we have won the fleece. 

SAL. I would you had won the fleece that he hath loft. 

FOR . There are fome fhrowd contents in yon' fame pa- 
That fteals the colour from Bajanio's cheek : [per, 

Some dear friend dead ; elfe nothing in the world 
Could turn fo much the conftitution 
Of any conftant man. What, worfe and worfe?_ 
With leave, Ba/anio ; I am half yourfelf, 
And I muft freely have the half of any thing 
That this fame paper brings you. 

BAS. O fweet Portia, 
Here are a few of the unplensant'ft werds- 
That ever blotted paper ! Gentle lady, 
When I did firft impart my love to you, 
I freely told you, ail the wealth I had 
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman ; 
And then 1 told you true: and yet, dear lady, 
Rating myfelf at nothing, you {hall fee 
How much I was a braggart: When I told you 
My flare was nothing, 1 Ihould then have told you- 
That I was worfe than nothing ; for, indeed, 
I have engag'd myfelf to a dear friend, 
Engag'd my friend to his meer enemy, 
To feed my means. Here ~|~ is a letter, lady;. 
The paper as the body of my friend, 

The Merchant ef Venice. 5 5 

And every \vor<i in it a gaping wound 

Jflliing life-blood But is it true, Salerio? 

Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit? 

From Tripoli*, from Mexico, 

From Lisbon, Earbary, and India, 

And not one ve/Tel 'fcape the dreadful touch 

Of merchant-marring rocks? 

SAL. Not one, my lord. 
Befides, it ftiould appear, that, if he had 
The present money to difcharge the^fcw, 
He would not take it: Never did I know 
A creature, that did bear the fhape of man, 
So keen and greedy to confound a man: 
He plies the duke at morning, and at night; 
And doth impeach the freedom of the ftate, 
If they deny him juilice: twenty merchants, 
The duke himfelf, and the magnificoes 
Of greaieft port, have all peifuaded with him; 
But none can drive him from the envious plea 
Of forfeiture, of juftice, and his bond. 

JES. When i was with him, I have heard him fvvear, 
To Tuba!, and to Cbus, his countrymen, 
That he would rather have Antonio's flelh, 
Than twenty times the value of the fum 
That he ciid owe him and 1 know, my lord, 
If law, authority, and power deny not, 
It will go hard with poor Antonio. 

FOR. Is it your dear friend, that is thus in trouble? 

BAS. The dearelt friend to me, the kindeft man, 
The beft-condition'd and unvveary'd fpirit 
In doing courtefies; and one in whom 
The ancient Roman honour more appears, 

3 Hath all 


56 The Merchant of Venice. 

Than any that draws breath in Italy. 
FOR. What Aim owes he the^w? 
BJS For me, three thousand ducats. 
FOR. What, no more? 
Pay him fix thousand, and deface the bond; 
Double fix thousand, and then treble that, 
Before a friend of this defcription 
Should lose a hair through Haftanio's fault. 
Firft, go with me to church, and call me wife; 
And then away to Venice to your friend; 
For never fhall you lye by Portia's fide 
With an unquiet foul. You ftiall have gold 
To pay the petty debt twenty times over: 
When it is pay'd, bring your true friend along: 
My maid Nerj/a, and myfeif, meantime, 
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away; 
For you fhall hence upon your wedding-day : < 
Bid your friends welcome, (how a merry cheer; 
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. 
But let me hear the letter of your friend. 

BaC [reaDgf] Sweet Baflanio, my Jhips have all mif- 
carry'd, my creditors grow cruel, my ejiate is 'very Ic<w t 
my toad to the Jew is forfeit', and fence, in faying it, it 
is impcjfible I Jbould live, all debts are cleared between 
you and me, if I might but fee you at my death : notivith- 
Jianding, use your pleasure ; if your loi/e do not perfuadt 
you to come, let not my letter. 

POR. O love, difpatch all businefs, and be gone. 
Ejts. Since I have your good leave to go away, 
I will make hafte: but, 'till I come again, 
No bed fhall e'er be guilty of my flay, 

Nor reft be interposer 'twixt us twain. Exeunt, 

We Merchant of Venice, 57 

SCENE III. Venice. A Street. 


and Jailor. 

Sffr. Jailor, look to him; Tell not me of mercy; 

This is the fool that lent out money gratis ; _, 
Jailor, look to him. 

Ant. Hear me yet, good Bbylock. 

Sur. I'll have my bond ; fpeak not againft my bond ; 
I have fworn an oath, that I will have my bond : 
Thou call f d ft me dog, before thou hadft a cause; 
But, fince I am a dog, beware my fangs: 
The duke (hall grant me juftice:_l do wonder, 
Thou naughty jailor, that thou art fo fond 
To come abroad with him at his requeft. 

ANT. I pray thee, hear me fpeak. 

Bar. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee fpeak: 
I'll have my bond; and therefore fpeak no more. 
I'll not be made a foft and dull-ey'd fool, 
To make the head, relent, and figh, and yield 
To chriftian interceflbrs. Follow not; 
I'll have no fpeaking ; I will have my bond. 


SOL. It is the moft impenetrable cur, 
That ever kept with men. 

ANT". Let him alone; 

I'll follow him no more with bootlefs prayers. 
He feeks my life, his reason well I know; 
1 oft deliver'd from his forfeitures 
Many that have at times made moan to me, 
Therefore he hates me. 

SOL. 1 am fure, the duke 

5 9 The Merchant of Venice. 

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. 

ANT. The duke cannot deny the courfe of law, 
For ihe commodity that ftrangers have 
With us in Venice : if it be deny'd, 
'^Twill much impeach the juilice of the ftate; 
Since that the trade and profit of the city 
Confilleth of all nations. Therefore, go: 
These griefs and lofles have fo 'bated me, 
That I fhall hardly fpare a pound of flefti 

To-morrow to my bloody creditor 

Well, jailor, on:_Pray God, Bajfanio come 

To fee me pay his debt, and then I care not. [Exeunt. 

SCENE IV. Belmont. A Room in Portia'/ Houfe. 

and a Servant. 

LOR. Madam, although I fpeak it in your presence, 
You have a noble and a true conceit 
Of gcd-iike amity ; which appears moft flrong'y 
]n bearing thus the abfence of your lord. 
But, if you knew to whom you fhovv this honour, 
How true a gentleman you fend relief, 
How dear a 'over of my lord your husband, 
I know, you would be prouder of the work 
Than cuilomary bounty can enforce you. 

FOR. I never did repent for doing good, 
Nor ihall not now: for in conpanions 
That do converfe and wafte the time together, 
Whose fouls do bear an egal yoke of love, 
There mufl be needs alike proportion 
Of lineaments, of manners, and of fpirit; 
Which makes me think, that this Antonio, 

The Merchant of Venice. 55 

TSeing the bosom lover of my lord, 
Mui 4 . net ds be like my lord : If it be To, 
How little is the coll f have beftow'd, 
In purchafing the femblance of my foul 
From out the ftate of helliih cruelty? 
This comes too near the praising or'myfelf; 
Therefore, no more of it: hear other things. 
Lorenzo, 1 commit into your hands 
The husbandry and manage of my houfe, 
Until my lord's return : for mine own part, 
I have toward heaven breath'd a fecret vow, 
To live in prayer and contemplation, 
Only attended by NeriJ/a here, 
Until her husband and my lord's return: 
There is a monaftery two miles oft", 
And there we will abide. 1 do desire you, 
Not to deny this imposition ; 
The which my love, and fome neceflity, 
Now lay'' upon you. 

LOR Madam, with all my heart; 
J lhail obey you in all fair commands. 

FOR. IViy people do already know my mind, 
And will acknowledge you and Jejfica 
In place of lord Eajfame and myfelf. 
So fare you well, 'till we fliall meet again. 

LOR. Fair thoughts, and happy hours, attend on you! 

JES. I wiih your ladyft.ip all heart's content. 

/'OK. I thank you for your vvifh, .and am well pleas'd 
To wiih it back on you: fare you \\e\\,jfjjica 

[Exeunt LORE:\ZO, aWjEssiCA. 

Now, Balthazar, \jo the Servant* 

AS I have ever found thee honeft, true, 

7 heer 

60 The Merchant of Venice. 

So let me find thee ftill: Take this fame^ letter, 

And use thou all the endeavour of a man, 

In fpeed \.oPadua\ fee thou render this 

Into my cousin's hands, doclor Bellario ; 

And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, 

Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd fpeed 

Unto the traneft, to the common ferry 

Which trades to Venice: wafte no time in words, 

But get thee gone; I mail be there before thee. 

Ser. Madam, I go with all convenient fpeed. [Exit. 

FOR. Come on, Nerijfa; I have work in hand, 
That you yet know not of: we'll fee our husbands 
Before they think of us. 

NEK. Shall they fee us? 

Pos. They mall, Neri/a\ but in fuch a habit, 
That they (hall think we are accompliihed 
With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, 
When we are both accouter'd like young men, 
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, 
And wear my dagger with the braver grace; 
And fpeak, between the change of man and boy, 
With a reed voice; and turn two mincing fteps 
Into a manly flride; and fpeak of frays, 
Like a fine bragging youth: and tell quaint lies, 
How honourable ladies fought my love, 
Which I denying, they fell fick, and dy'd; 
I could not do with all; then I'll repent, 
And vvi(h, for all that, that I had not kill'd them: 
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell, 
That nun mall fwear, I have difcontinu'd fchool 
Above a twelve-month: I have within my mind 
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging jacks, 

3 to Mantua *7 withall 

The Merchant of Venice . 6 1 

Which I will practice. 

NER. Why, mall we turn to men? 

Pox. Fie! what a queltion's that, 
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter? 
But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device 
When I am in my coach, which ftays for us 
At the park-gate; and therefore hafte away, 
For we mud measure twenty miles to-day. [Exeunt. 

SCENEV. r be fame. A Garden. 
Enter JESSICA, and the Clown. 

Clo. Yes, truly : for, look you, the fins of the father 
are to be lay'd upon the children ; therefore, I promise 
you, I fear you. I was always plain with you, and fo 
now I fpeak my agitation of the matter: Therefore be 
o'good cheer; for, truly, I think you are damn'd. There 
is but one hope in it, that can do you any good; and 
that is but a kind of baftard hope neither. 

JES. And what hope is that, I pray thee? 

Clo. Marry, you may partly hope that your father 
got you not, that you are not the^iu's daughter. 

JES. That were a kind of baltard hope, indeed; fo 
the fins of my mother mould be visited upon me. 

Clo. Truiy, then I fear you are damn'd bcth by fa- 
ther and mother: thus when I fhun Scylla, your father, 
I fall into Cbarybdis, your mother : well, you are gone 
both ways. 

JES. 1 mall be fav'd by my husband ; he hath made 
me a chriflian. 

Clo. Truly, the more to blame he: we were chrift- 
ians enough before; e'en as many as could well live, 
one by another: This n;aking of chr.ftians will raise 

Cz Ibe Merc bant cf Venice. 

the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, 
we (hall not ihortly have a -raflier on the coals for mo- 


JES. I'll tell my husband, Launcekt, what you fay; 
here he comes. 

LOR. I (hall grow jealous of you fhortly, Launcelct, 
if you thus get my wife into corners. 

JES. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launc fat 
and I are out: he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for 
me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he 
fays, you are no good member of the commonwealth ; 
for, in converting Jews to chriflians, you raise the price 
of pork. 

LOR . I (hall anfwer that better to the commonwealth, 
than you can the getting up of the negro's belly : the 
Moor is with child by you, Launcelot. 

Clo. It is much, that the Moor mould be more than 
reason : but if (he be lefs than an honeft woman, me is, 
indeed, more than I took her for. 

Lot. How every fool can play upon the word! I 
think, the beft grace of wit will mortly turn into 
filence; and difcourfe grow commendable in none only 
but parrats. Go in, firrah; bid them prepare for din- 

Clo. That is done, fir; they have all flomacks. 

LOR. Goodly lord, what a wit-fnapper are you ! then 
bid them prepare dinner. 

Clo. That is done too, fir; only, cover is the word. 

LOR. Will yon cover then, fir? 

Clo. Not fo, fir, neither; I know my duty. 

LOR. Yet mere quarrelling with occasion! wilt thoe 

The Merchant of Venice. 6j 

ihew the whole wealth of thy wit in an inilantr I pray 
thee, underftand a plain man in his plain meaning: go 
to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, ferve in the 
meat, and we will come in to dinner. 

Clo. For the table, fir, it (hall be ferv'd in; for the 
meat, fir, it (hall be covered; for your coming in to 
dinner, fir, why, let it be as humours and conceits fhali 
govern. [Exit Clown. 

Los. O dear difcretion, how his words are fuited! 
The fool hath planted in his memory 
An army of good words; And I do know 
A many fools, that ftand in better place, 
Garniih d like him, that for a trickfy word 
Defy the matter. How cheer'ft thou, JeJJica? 
And now, good fweet, fay thy opinion, 
How doft thou like the lord Baffanioi wife? 
JES. Pail all expreflmg: It is very meet, 
The lord Baffanio\\ve an upright life ; 
For, having fuch a blefiing in his lady, 
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth; 
And, if on sarth he do not mean it, it 
Is reason he fhould never come to heaven. 
Why, if two gods (hould play fome heavenly match, 
And on the wager lay two earthly women, 
And Portia one, there muft be fomething elfe 
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world 
Hath not her fellow. 

LOR Even fuch a husband 
Haft thou of rne, as fhe is for a wife. 

JES. Nay, but afk my opinion too of that. 
LOR. I will anon; nrft, let us go to dinner. 
JES. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a ftomack, 

64 The Merchant ^Venice. 

LOR. No, pray thee, let it ferve for table-talk ; 
Then, hovvfoe'er thou fpeak'ft, 'mong other things 
I fhall digeil it. 

JES. Well, I'll fet you forth. [Exeunt. 

SCENE I. Venice. ACourtofJuftice. 

Enter ', in State, the Duke, MagnifcoesfOfficers of the 

Court, &c. and feat themfelves ; then, Enter ANTONIO, 


Solanio, and Others. 

Duk. What, is Antonio here? 

AKT. Ready, fo please yoor grace. 

Duk. I am forry for thee; thou art come to anfwer 
A ftony adverfary, an inhuman wretch, 
Uncapable of pity, void and empty 
From any dram of mercy. 

ART. I have heard, 

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify 
His rigorous courfe; but fince he ftands obdurate, 
And that no lawful means can carry me 
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd 
To fuffer, with a quietnefs of fpirit, 
The very tyranny and rage of his. 

DUK. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. 

SAL. He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord. 
Enter SH YLOCK. 

Duk. Make room, and let him {land before our face._ 
Shjlock, the world thinks, and I think fo too, 

We Merchant of Venice. ' 6 j 

That thon but lead'ft this faftiidn of thy malice 

To the laft hour of aft; and then, 'tis thought, 

Thou'lt (hew thy mercy, and remorfe, more llrange 

Than is thy flrange apparent cruelty : 

And, where thou now exa&'ft the penalty, 

(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flefh) 

Thou wilt not only loofe the forfeiture, 

But, touch'd with human gentlenefs and love, 

Forgive a moiety of the principal ; 

Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes, 

That have of late fo hucldl'd on his back; 

Enough to prefs a royal merchant down, 

And pluck commiseration of his Hate 

From brafly bosoms, and rough hearts of flint, 

From ftubborn -Xl&r/fj, and Tartars, never train'd 

To offices of tender courtefy. 

We all expecl: a gentle anfwer, Jew. 

Sur. 1 have posseff'd your grace of what I purpose; 
And by our holy fabaoth have I fworn, 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond : 
If you deny it, let the danger light 
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom. 
You'll afk me, why 1 rather choose to have 
A weight of carrion flefh, than to receive 
Three thousand ducats: I'll not anfwer that: 
But, fay, it is my humour; Is it anfwer'd? 
What if my houfe be troubl'd with a rat, 
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats 
To have it banM? What, are you anfwer'd yet? 
Some men there are, love not a gaping pig; 
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat ; 
And others, when the bag-pipe fings i'the nose, 

66 V'bt Merchant o/Vemtc. 

Cannot contain their urine; for affeftion, 

Miftrefs of pailion, fways it to the mood 

Of what it likes, or loaths: Now for your anfwer: 

As there is no firm reason to be render'd, 

Why lie canr.ot abide a gaping pig; 

Why he, a harmlefs necciiary cat; 

Why he, a. woolen bagpipe; but of force 

Mult yield to fuch inevitable (hame, 

As to offend himfelf, being offended; 

So can I give no reason, nor I will not, 

More than a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing, 

] bear Antonio, that 1 follow thus 

A losing fuit againil him. Are you anfwer'd? 

BJS. This is no anfwer, thou unfeeling man, 
To excuse the cunent of thy cruelty. 

SHY. I am not bound to please taee with my anfwers. 

BAS. Do all men kill the things they do not love? 
. Sur. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? 

BAS. Every offence is not a hate at firil. [twice? 

Snr. What, would'ft thou have a ferpent fting thee 

jJifT. 1 pray you, think you queilion with the^fofrt 
You may as weil go Itand upon the beach, 
And bid the main flood bate his usual height; 
You may as well use queilion with the wolf, 
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; 
You may as well forbid the mountain pines 
To wag their high tops, and to make no noise, 
When they are fretted with the gufts of heaven ; 
You may as well do any thing mod hard, 
As feek to foften that (than which what's harder:} 
His Jewijb heart : Therefore, I do befeech you, 
Make no more offers, use no farther means, 

i Kaifters of 

The Merchant of Venice. 67 

ut, with all brief and plain convenient/, 
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. 

AS. For thy three thousand ducats here is"f~fix, 

Sar. If every ducat in fix thousand ducats 
Were in fix parts, and every part a ducat, 
I would not draw them, I would have my bond. 

DuL How (halt thou hope for mercy, rendering none ? 

Sur. What judgment (hall I dread, doing no wrong? 
You have among you many a purchaf'd Have, 
Which; like your afles, and your dogs, and mules, 
You use in abjecl and in flavifh parts, 
Because you bought them; Shall I fay to you, 
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs, 
Why fweat they under burthens, let their beds 
Be made as foft as yours, and let their palates 
Be feason'd with fuch viands ? you will anfwer, 
The (laves are ours : So do I anfwer you : 
The pound of flefh, which I demand of him, 
Is dearly bought, is mine, and I will have it: 
If you deny me, fie upon your law; 
There is no force in the decrees of Venice: 
1 (land for judgment; anfwer, Shall I have it? 

DuL Upon my power, I may difmifs this courtj 
\JnlefeJ3etfario, a learned dodtor, 
Whom I have fent for to determine this, 
Come here to-day. 

SAL. My lord, here flays without 
A mefTenger with letters from the doctor, 
New come from Padua. 

Duk, Bring us the letters; Call the meflenger. 

S^s, Good cheer, Antonio! Whar, man r courage yet! 
The Jew fhall have my flefh, blood, bones, and all, 

19 as mine 


68 Tbf Merchant of Venice. 

Ere thou {halt lose for me one drop of blood. 

Ayr. I am a tainted weather of the flock, 
Meeteft for death; the weakeft kind of fruit 
Drops fooneft to the ground, and fo let me: 
You cannot better be employ'd, BaJ/anio, 
Than to live {till, and write mine epitaph. 

Enter NE R I ss A, habited like a Clerk. 

Duk. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? 

NSR. From both, my lord : Bellario greets your grace. 
[presenting a Letter. 

BJS. Why doft thou whet thy knife fo earneftly? 

SET. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. 

GRA. Not on thy foal, but on thy foul, harfh Jew, 
Thou mak'ft thy knife keen : but no metal can, 
No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keennefs 
Of thy {harp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? 

Sur. No, none that thou haft wit enough to make, 

GRA. O, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog! 
And for thy life let juftice be nccus'd. 
Thou almoft mak'ft me waver in my faith, 
To hold opinion with Pythagorai, 
That fouls of animals infuse themfelves 
Into the trunks of men : thy currifti fpirit 
Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughter, 
Even from the gallows did his fell foul fleet, 
And, whilft thou lay'ft in thy unhallow'd dam, 
Infus'd itfelf in thee ; for thy desires 
Are wolfifh, bloody, ftarv'd and ravenous. 

Sur. 'Till thou canft rail the feal from off my bond, 
Thou but offend'ft thy lungs to fpeak fo loud; 
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fa 1 
To curelefs ruin. _ I ftand here for law. 

18 inexecrable 

The Merchant of Venice. 69 

T>uk. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
A young and learned doclor to our court :__ 
Where is he? 

NEK. He attendeth here hard by, 
To know your anfwer, whether you'll admit him. 

Z)>l. With all my heart : fome three or four of you. 

Go give him courteous conduft to this place 

Meantime, the court mall hear Bellario's letter. 

[giving it to a Clerk. 

df, [reads, ,] Tour grace Jhall underft and, that, at the 
receipt of your letter, I am 'very feck : but in the inftant 
that your mejjenger came, in loving visitation was 'with 
mt a young doctor e/*Rome, bis name is Balthasar : / ac- 

Juainted him vuith the cause in controverfy between the 
ew and Antonio the merchant : ive turned e'er many 
looks together: he is furnijhed --with my opinion; 'which, 
better d with his own learning, (the greatnefs nvhereof I 
cannot enough commend) comes 'with him, at my importu- 
nity, to Jill up your grace's requeji in my ftead. I befeecb 
you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack 
a reverend. ejJimation;for I never knew fo young a body 
ivith Jo old a head. I leave him to your gracious accept- 
ance, ivbvse trial Jhall better publijh his commendation. 
JDu&. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes; 

And here, I take it, is the do&or come._ 
Enter PORTIA, for Balthasar. 

Give nte your hand: Came you from eld Bellario? 
POR. 1 did, my lord. 
Duk. You are welcome: take your place. 

Are you acquainted with the difference 

That holds this present queflion in the court ? 
foR. I am informed throughly of the cause. 


Vbe Merchant ofVcnice. 

Which is the merchant here, and which 

Duk. Antonio and old Shy lock, both Hand forth. 

FOR. Is your name Sbylock? 

Sur. Shylock is my name. 

FOR. Of a ftrange nature is the fuit you follow; 
Yet in fuch rule, that the Venetian law 
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. _ 
You Hand within his danger, do you not? 

Jnr. Ay, fo he fays. 

FOR. Do you confefs the bond? 

Ayr. I do. 

FOR. Then muft the Jew be merciftrl. 

Snr. On what compulfion muft I ? tell me that* 

FOR. The quality of mercy is not ftrain'd ; 
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bleft; 
It blefleth him that gives, and him that takes : 
*Tis mightieft in the mightieft; it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown : 
His fcepter mews the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majefty, 
Wherein doth fit the dread and fear of kings j 
But mercy is above this fcepter'd fway, 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
It is an attribute to God himfelf; 
And earthly power doth then fhew likeft God's, 
When mercy feasons juftice : Therefore, Jew t 
Though juftice be thy plea, confider this, 
That, in the courfe of juftice, none of us 
Should fee falvation: we do pray for mercy; 
And that fame prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. 1 have fpoke thus much, 

The Merchant of Venice, 71 

To mitigate the juflice of thy plea; 

Which if thou follow, this ftrift court of Venice 

Muft needs give fentence 'gainft the merchant there. 

Sur. My deeds upon my head : I crave the law, 
The penalty and forfeit of my bond. 

FOR. Is he not able to difcharge the money? 

BAS. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; 
Yea, twice the fum : if that will not fuffice, 
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, 
On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: 
]f this will not fuffice, it rnufl appear 
That malice bears down truth. And I befeech you, 
Wreft once the law to your authority : 
To do a great right, do a little wrong; 
And curb this cruel devil of his will. 

FOR. It muft not be; there is no power in Venice 
Can alter a decree eftabliihed : 
'Twill be recorded for a precedent; 
And many an error, by the fame example, 
Will rufh into the ftate : it cannot be. 

Sur. A Daniel come to judgment; yea, a Daniel f^, 
O wise young judge, how I do honour thee! 

FOR. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. 

Snr. Here 'tis, mofl reverend doftor, hereof it is. 

FOR. Shylock, there's thrice thy money ofFer'd thee. 

Stir. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven : 
Shall I lay perjury upon my foul? 
No, not for Venice, 

FOR. Why, this bond is forfeit ; 
And lawfully by this the Je*w may claim 
A pound of flefh, to be by him cut off 
Neareil the merchant's heart : Be merciful ; 

7* ttt Merchant of Venice. 

Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond. 

Sar. When it is pay'd according to the tenour. 
It doth appear, you are a worthy judge, 
You know the law, your exposition 
Hath been moft found ; I charge you by the law.. 
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, 
Proceed to judgment: by my foul I fwear, 
There is no power in the tongue of man 
To alter me: I flay here on my bond. 

dxT. Moft heartily I do befeech the court 
To give the judgment. 

POR. Why then, thus it is. 
You muft prepare your bosom for his knife: 

Sar. O noble judge! O excellent young man! 

POR. For the intent and purpose of the law 
Hath full relation to the penalty, 
Which here appeareth due upon the bond. 

Sar. 'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge! 
How much more elder art thou than thy looks! 

FOR, Therefore, lay bare your bosom: 

Sffr. Ay, his breaft; 

So fays the bond; Dofh it not, noble judge? 

Neareft his heart, those are the very words. 

/*<?*. It is fo. Are there balance here, to weigh 
The flefh ? 

$xr. I have them ready. 

POR. Have by fome furgeon, Stylock, on your charge s 
To flop his wounds, left he do bleed to death. 

Sar. Is it fo nominated in the bond? 

POR. It is not fo expreff'd; But what of that? 
'Twere good you do fo much for charity. 

Sur. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. 

The Merchant of Venice. 73 

POK. Come, merchant, have you any thing to fay? 

AK*. But little; I am arm'd, and well prepar'd._ 
Give me your hand, Baffanio; fare you well. 
Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you; 
For herein fortune (hows herfelf more kind 
Than is her cuftom . it is ftill her ufe, 
To let the wretched out-live his wealth, 
To view with hollow eye, and wrinkl'd brow, 
An age of poverty; from which ling'ring penance 
Of fuch a misery doth (he cut me off. 
Commend me to your honourable wife: 
Tell her the procefs of Antonio's end, 
Say how I lov'd you, fpeak me fair in death; 
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge, 
Whether Bcffanio had not once a love. 
P.epent not you that you (hall lose your friend, 
And he repents not that he pays your debt; 
For, if the Jew do cjt but deep enough, 
I'll pay it inftantly with all my heart. 

Bjs. Antonio, I am marry'd to a wife, 
Which is as dear to me as life itfelf; 
But life itfelf, my wife, and all the world, 
Are not with me efteem'd above thy life: 
I would lose all, ay, facrifice them all 
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 

FOR. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, 
If (he were by to hear you make the offer. 

GRJ. I have a wife, whom, I protelt, I love; 
I would (he were in heaven, fo (he could 
Intreat fome power to change this currifli Jew. 

NER. ' Tis well, you offer it behind her back; 
The wifh would make elfe an unquiet houfe. 

74 7 he Merchant ^Venice. 

Sar. " These be the chriftian husbands: I have ad* 


*' Would any of the flock of Barra&as" 
" Had been her husband, rather than a chriflian !' 
We trifle time ; 1 pray thee, purfue fentence. 

FOR. A pound of that fame merchant's flefhis thine; 
The court awards it, and the law doth give it. 

Sar. Mod rightful judge ! 

FOR. And you muft cut this flefli from off his breaft ; 
The law a'.lows it, and the court awards it. [pare. 

Snr. Moft learned judge? A fentence; come, prc 

FOR. Tarry a little ; there is fcmething elfe. 
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; 
The words expfeffly are, a pound of fleth: 
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flefh; 
But, in the cutting it, if thou deft flied 
One drop of chriftian blood, thy lands, and goods, 
Are, by the laws of Venice* confifca-e 
Unto the Irate of Venue. [ge! 

GRA O upright judge !__Mark,y<?-zy;_O learned ju4- 

Sar. Is that the law ? 

FOR. Thyfelf flialt fee the aft: 
For, as thou urgeft juftice, be affur'd, 
Thou (halt have juitice, more than thou deslr'ft. [ge. 

GR.J. O 'earned judge! Mark, JPZU; a learned judt 

Snr. I take his offer then ; pay the bond thrice, 
And let the chriftian go. 

BAS. Here is the money. 

FOR. Soft; 

The jew Aiali have all juflice; foft, no hafte ; 
' ; have rothing but the penalty. 

GRJ. Qjcw! an upright judge, a learned judge! 

a 6 this offer 

<f'be Merchant ^Venice. 75 

POR. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flefh. 
jShed thou no blood; nor cut thou lefs, nor more, 
But juft a pound of flem : if thou tak'ft more, 
Or lefs, than a juft pound, be it but fo much 
As makes it light, or heavy, in the fubftance, 
On the division of the twentieth part 
Of one poor fcruple; nay, if the fcale do turn 
But in the eftimation of a hair, 
Thou dy'ft, and all thy goods are confifcate. 

Gsji. A fecond Daniel, a Dante!, Jew! 
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. 

POR . Why doth the Jew pause ? take thy forfeiture. 

Snr. Give me my principal, and let me go. 

BAS. 1 have it ready for thee; here it is. 

POR. He hath refus'd it in the open court; 
He fhall have merely juftice, and his bond. 

GRJ. A Daniel* ftill fay I, a fecond Daniel!-, 
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me tliat word. 

Snr. Shall I not have barely my principal? 

POR. Thou (halt have nothing but the forfeiture, 
To be fo taken at thy peril, Jew. 

Sur. Why, then the devil give him good of it! 
I'll ftay no longer queiliou. 

POR. Tarty, Jny; 

The law hath yet another hold on you. 
It is enacted in the laws of Venice, 
Jf it be prov'd againft an alien, 
That, by direct, or indirel attempts, 
He feek the life of any citizen, 
The party, 'gainft the which he doth contrive,. 
Shall feize on half his goods; the other half 
Qqmes to the privy coffer of the ftate ; 

6 or the 

7 & The Merchant of Venice. 

And the offender's life lies in the mercy 

Of the duke only, 'gainft all other voice. 

In which predicament, I fay, thou ftand'ft: 

For it appears by manifeft proceeding, 

That, indirectly, and dire&iy too, 

Thou haft contriv'd againft the very life 

Of the defendant; and thou haft incur'd 

The danger formerly by me rehearf'd. 

Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. [felf: 

GRJ. Beg that thou may'ft have leave to hang thy- 
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the ftate, 
Thou haft not left the value of a cord ; 
Therefore thou muft be hang'd at the ftate's charge. 

Duk. That thou {halt fee the difference of our fphit, 
1 pardon thee thy life before thou afn. it : 
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; 
The other half comes to the general ftate, 
Which humblenefs may drive unto a fine. 

FOR. Ay, for the ftate, not for Antcnio. 

Sffr. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that: 
You take my houfe, when you do take the prop 
That doth fuftain my houfe; you take my life, 
When you do take the means whe-eby 1 live. 

FOR. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? 

GRJ. A halter gratis; nothing eJfe, for God's fake. 

AKT. So please my lord the duke, and all the court, 
To quit the fine for one half of his goods; 
1 am content, fo he will let me have 
The other half in ufe, to render it, 
Upon hjs death, unto the gentleman 
That lately ftole his daughter. 
Two things proyided more, That, for this favour, 

1 'be Merchant of Venice. 77 

He presently become a chriftian; 
The other, that he do record a gift, 
Here in the court, of all he dies possefTd, 
Unto his fon Lorenzo, and his daughter. 

Duk. He fliali do this; or elfe I do recant 
The pardon, that I late pronounced here. 

FOR. Art thou contented, Jew? what doft thou fay? 

Sar. I am content 

FOR. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 

8nr- \ pray vou, give me leave to go from hence; 
I am not well ; lend the deed after me, 
And f will fign it. 

Duk. Get thee gone, but do it. 

GRA In chrift'ning (halt thou have two god-fathers; 
Had I been judge, thou (hould'ft have had ten more, 
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. 

[Exit SHY LOCK. 

Duk. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. 

FOR I humbly do desire your grace of pardon; 
I mull: away this night towanl Padua, 
And it is meet I presently fet forth. 

Duk. I am forry, that your leisure ferves you not._ 
dntomo, gratify this gentleman; 
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. 

[Exeunt Duke, and Court. Moft worthy gentleman, I, and my friend, 
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted 
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof, 
Three thousand ducats, due unto the J i-w, 
We freely cope your courte nis pains withal. 
A$t. And Hand inaebteo, over and above ? 
Jn love and fervice to you evermore. 

erchant of Venice. 

FOR. He is well pay'd, that is well fatiffy'd, 
And 1, delivering you, am fatiffy'd, 
And therein do account rayfclf well pay'd; 
My mind was never yet more mercenary. 
J pray you, know me, when we meet again ; 
J \virn you well, and fo I take my leave. 

BAS. Dear fir, offeree I rauft attempt you further; 
Take fome remembrance of us, as a tribute, 
Not as a fee: grant rne two things, I pray you, 
Not to deny me, and to pardon me. 

Pox. You prefs me fsr, and therefore I will yield., 
Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your iake;__ 
And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you : 
Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more, 
And you in love (hail not deny me this. 

BAS. This ring, good fir, alas, it is a trifle ; 
I will not (name myielf to give you this. 

FOR. I will have nothing elf but only this; 
And now, methinks, I have a m:-d to it. 

BAS. There's more eper.dson ihi?,thanon the value, 
The dea eft ring in V::-ice viM \ give you, 
And find it out by proclamation ; 
Only for this, I pray you, par. on me. 

FOR. I fee, fir, yea are liberal in offers: 
You taught me firft to beg; and. now, methinks, 
You teach me how a beggar mould be anfwer'd. 

jts. Good fir, this ring was given me by my wife; 
And, when fhe put it on, fhe made me vow, 
That I would neither fell, nor give, nor lose it. 

FOR. That Ycufeferves many men to fave their gifts. 
An if your wife be not a mad- woman, 
And know how well I have deserv'd this ring, 

Tlje Merchant of Venice. 79 

She would not hold oat enemy for ever, 
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you ! 
[Exeunt FOR. a 

Axr. My lord Baffanio, let him have the ring; 
Let his deservings, and my love withal, 
Be valu'd 'gainft your wife's commandement. 

BAS. Go, Gratiano, run and over-take him, 
Give him the^ring; and bring him, if thou can(r, 
Unto Antonio's houfe: away, make hafte [Exit GRA. 
Come, you and I will thither presently ; 
And in the morning early will we both 
Fly toward Bclmont; come, dntonio. [Exeunt. 

SCE NE II. The farm. Street before the Court. 

Enter PORTIA, #;;</ NER.ISSA. 

FOR. Enquire the y^-zu's houfe out, give him this^f 3 
And let him fign it; we'll away to-night, [deed, 

And be a day before our husbands home: 
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. 

GRA. Fair fir, you are well o'er-ta'en: 
My lord Baffhnio, upon more advice, 
Hath fent you here this =f ring; and doth entreat 
Your company at dinner. 

FOR. That cannot be: 
His ring I do accept moft thankfully, 
And fo, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore, 
1 pray you, (hew my youth old Sbylock's houfe. 

GRA. That will I do. 

NER. Sir, I would fpeak with yout_ 
' I'll fee if I can get my husband's ring," 
* Which I did make him fvvear to keep for ever.'* 

80 . The Merchant of Venice. 

FOR. " Thou may'ft, I warrant: We mall have old 


" That they did give the rings away to men;" 
* But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too." 
Away, make hafte; thou know'ft where I will tarry. 
NER. Come, good fir, will you mew me to this houfe? 



SCENE) Belmont. Avenue to PortiaV #/,. 

LOR. The moon fhines bright: In fuch a night as this, 
When the fweet wind did gently kifs the trees, 
And they did make no noise; in fuch a night, 
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall, 
And figh'd his foul toward the Grecian tents, 
Where Crejfid lay that night. 

JES. In fuch a night, 
Did T'bisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew ; 
And faw the lion's fhadow ere himfelf, 
And ran difmay'd away. 

LOR. In fuch a night, 
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 
Upon the wild-fea banks, and waft her love 
To come again to Carthage. 

JES. In fuch a night, 
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs 
That did renew old JE/ea. 

LOR. In fuch a night, 
Did Jeffica fleal from the wealthy Jew} 

Wt Merchant of Venice. 8 1 

And with an un thrift love did run from Vtnlce, 
As far as Belmont. 

JES. And in fuch a night, 
Did young Lorenzo fwear he lov'd her well; 
Stealing her foul with many vows of faith, 
And ne'er a true one. 

LOR. And in fuch a night, 
Did pretty Jejfica, like a little fhrow, 
Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 

JES. I would out-night you, did no body come; 
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. 
Enter a Servant. 

LOR. Who comes fo faft in filence of the night? 

Ser. A friend. [friend? 

LOR. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray yoa, 

Ser. Stephana is my name; and I bring word, 
My miftrefs will before the break of day 
Be here ztBelmont: fhe doth ftray about 
By holy crofTes, where (he kneels and prays 
For happy wedlock hours. 

LOR. Who comes with her? 

Ser. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. 
I pray you, is my nufter yet return'd. 

LOR. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.-, 
But go we in, I pray thee, Jejjica, 
And ceremonioufly let us prepare 
Some welcome for the miilrefs of the houfe. 
Enter Clown. 

C!o. Sola, fola, wo ha ho, fola, fola ! 

LOR. Who calls? 

Cla. Sola! Did you fee matter owj20, and miftrefs 
Lii-eiix.a? fola, fola! 

82 <?be Merchant of Venice. 

LOR. Leave hollowing, man; here. 

Clo. Sola ! where, where ? 

LOR. Here. 

Clo. Tell him, there's a poft come from my matter, 
with his horn full of good news; my mafter will be 
here ere morning. [Exit Clo. 

LOR. Sweetlove,let'sin,andthereexpeeltheircomin2' 
And yet no matter; Why mould we go in ? 
My gootJ friend Stephana, fignify, I pray you, 
Within the houfe, your miftrefs is at hand; 
And bring your musick forth into the air. _ [Exit Sef> 
How fweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bankl 
Here will we fit, and let the founds of musick 
Creep in our ears; foft ftillnefs, and the night, 
Become the touches of fweet harmony. 
Sit, Jfffica: Look, how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlay'd with pattens of bright gold ; 
There's not the fmalleft orb, which thou behold'ft, 
But in his motion like an angel fings, 
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins: 
Such harmony is in immortal fouls; 
But, whilft this muddy veflore of decay 
Doth grofly close it in, we cannot hear it 

Enter Musick, and Dcmeflicks of Portia. 
Come, ho, and wake Diaxa with a hymn; 
With fweeteft touches pierce your miftrefs' ear, 
And draw her home with musick. [Musick plajs. 

JES. I am never merry, when I hear fweet musick. 

LOR. The reason is., your fpirits are attentive: 
Por do bat note a wild and wanton herd, 
Or race of youthful and unhandl'd colts, 
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud, 

6 morning fweet love. Lertn. Let's in. 

The Merchant of Venice. 83 

Which is the hot condition of their blood J 
If they but hear perchance a trumpet found, 
Or any air of musick touch their ears, 
You mall perceive them make a mutual ftand, 
Their favage eyes turn'd to a modelt gaze 
By the fvveet power of musick: Therefore the poet 
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, ftones, and floods; 
Since nought fo ltocki(h> hard, and full of rage, 
But musick for the time doth change his nature: 
The man that hath no musick in himfelf, 
Nor is not mov'd with concord of fweet founds, 
Is fit for treasons, ftratagems, and. fpoils; 
The motions of his fpirit are dull as night, 
And his affe&ions dark as Erebus; 
Let no fuch man be trufted. Mark the musick. 
Enter PORTIA, and N E R i s s A . 

FOR. That light we fee is burning in my hall. 
How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So {nines a good deed in a naughty world. 

NER . When the moon (hone, we did not fee the candle. 

FOR. So doth the greater glory dim the lefs: 
A fubltitute mines brightly as a king, 
Until a king be by; and then his ftate 
Empties- itfelf, as doth an inland brook 
Into the main of waters. Musick! hark. 

NP.R. It is yaur musick, madam, of the houfe. 

POR, Nothing is good, I fee, without refpeft; 
Methinks, it founds much fweeter than by day. 

NER, Silence bellows that virtue on it, madam. 

POR. The crow doth fing as fweetly as the lark, 
When neither is attended ; and, I think, 
The nightingale, if fhe mould fing by day, 


84 The Merchant of Venice. 

When every goofe is cackling, would be thought 

No better a musician than the wren. 

How many things by feason feason'd are 

To their right praise, and true perfection. 

Peace! how the moon fleeps with Endymicn, 

And would not be awak'd. [o&serwiitg Lor and]e{. 

LOR. That is the voice, [rising. Musick teafes. 

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. 

FOR . He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, 
Ey the bad voice. 

LOR. Dear lady, welcome home. 

FOR . We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, 
Which fpeed, we hope, the better for our words > 
Are they return'd? 

LOR. Madam, they are not yet; 
But there is come a meffenger before, 
To fignify their coming. 

FOR. Go in, Nerija, 
Give order to my fervants, that they take 
No note at all of cur being abfent hence ;__ 
Nor you, Lorenzo, Jeffica, nor you. [Trumpet. 

LOR. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet: 
We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not. 

FOR. This night, methinks, is but the day-light fick, 
It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, 
Such as the day is when the fun is hid. 

and their Follcnverj. 

BAS. We mould hold day with the Antipodes, 
If you would walk in abfence of the fun. 

FOR. Let me give light, but let me not be light; 
For a light wife dcth make a heavy husband, 

The Merchant of Venice. g- 

And never be Bajjanio fo for me; 

But, God fort all! You are welcome home, my lord. 

BAS. 1 thank you, madam : give welcome to my friend} 
This is the man, this is Antonio, 
To whom I am fo infinitely bound. 

FOR. You mould in all fenfe be much bound to him, 
For, as 1 hear, he was much bound for you. 

J!NT. No more than I am well acquitted of. 

FOR. Sir, you are very welcome to our houfe : 
It muft appear in other ways than words. 
Therefore I fcant this breathing courtefy. [wrong; 

GRA. [fo Ner.] By yonder moon, I fwear you do me 
In faith, 1 gave it to the judge's clerk: 
Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, 
Since you do take it, love, fo much at heart. 

POR. A quarrel, ho, already? what's the matter? 

GRA. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring 
That {he did give me; whose posy was, 
For all the world, like cutler's poetry 
Upon a knife, Love me, and leave me not. 

NER. What talk you of the posy, or the value? 
You fwore to me, when I did give it you, 
That you would wear it till your hour of death; 
And that it mould lye with you in your grave: 
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, 
You mould have been refpe&ive, and have kept it. 
Gave it a judge's clerk' but well I know, 
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that had it. 
GRA. He will, an if he live to be a man. 
NER. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 
GRA. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, 
A kind of boy; a little fcrubbed boy, 

L 2 

86 Tke Merchant of Venice. 

No higher than thyfelf, the judge's clerk; 
A prating boy, that beg'd it as a fee ; 
1 could not for my heart deny it him. 

FOR. You were "to blame, I muft be plain with you, 
To part fo flightly with your wife's firft gift; 
A thing ftuck on with oaths upon your finger, 
And riveted fo with faith unto your flefti. 
I gave my love a ring, and made him fwear 
Never to part with it; and here he (lands; 
I dare be fworn for him, he would not leave it, 
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 
That the world matters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; 
An 'twere to me, I mould be mad at it. 

BAS. " Why, I were beft to cut my left hand off," 
" And fwear, I loft the ring defending it." 

GRJ. My lord BaJ/anio gave his ring away 
Unto the judge that beg'd it, and, indeed, 
Deserv'd it too ; and then the boy, his clerk, 
That took fome pains in writing, he beg'd mine ; 
And neither man, nor mafter, would take ought 
But the two rings. 

FOR. What ring gave you, my lord ? 
Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me. 

BJS. If I could add a lie unto a fault, 
I would deny it; but, you fee, my finger 
Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone. 

FOR. Even fo void is your falfe heart of truth. 
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed, 
Until I fee the ring. 

NER. Nor I in yours, [to Gratiano. 

'Till I again fee mine. 

7 fo riveted 

Tbe Merchant of Venice, 87 

Bjts. Sweet Portia, 

If you did know to whom I gave the ring, 
If you did know for whom I gave the ring, 
And would conceive for what I gave the ring, 
And how unwillingly I left the ring, 
When nought would be accepted but the ring, 
You would abate the ftrength of your difpleasure. 

FOR. If you had known the virtue of the ring, 
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, 
Or your own honour to contain the ring, 
You would not then have parted with the ring. 
What man is there fo much unreasonable, 
If you had pleas'd to have defended it 
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modefty 
To urge the thing held as a ceremony? 
Nerijfa teaches me what to believe; 
I'll die for't, but fome woman had the ring. 

BAS. No, by my honour, madam, by my foul, 
No woman had it, but a civil dodtor, 
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, 
And beg'd the ring; the which I did deny him, 
And fuffer'd him to go difpleas'd away; 
Even he that had held up the very life 
Of my dear friend. What mould I fay, fweet lady ? 
I was enforc'd to fend it after him ; 
I was befet with (hame and courtefy; 
My honour would not let ingratitude 
So much befmear it: Pardon me, good lady; 
For, by the-e blefled candles of the night, 
Had you been there, I think, you would have beg'd 
The ring of me to give the worthy dodor. 

FOR. Let not that doftor e'er come near my houfe: 

8 8 The Merchant of Venice. 

Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, 

And that which you did fwear to keep for me, 

I will become as liberal as you ; 

I'll not deny him any thing I have, 

No, not my body, nor my husband's bed: 

Know him I lhall, I am well fure of it: 

Lye not a night from home; watch me like Argur, 

If you do not, if 1 be left alone, 

Now by mine honour, which is yet mine own, 

I'll have that doclor for my bedfellow. 

NER. And 1 his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, 
How you do leave me to mine own protection. 

GKJ. Well do you fo; let me not take him then, 
For, if 1 do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. 

Awr. I am the unhappy fubjeft of these quarrels. 

POR. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwith- 

B^is. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; 
And, in the hearing of these many friends, 
I fwear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 
Wherein I fee myfelf, 

POR. Mark you but that: 
In both my eyes he doubly fees himfelf; 
.In each eye, one : _fwear by your double felf, 
And there's an oath of credit. 

Bjs. Nay, but hear me: 
Pardon this fault, and by my foul I fwear, 
I never more will break an oath with thee. 

^Kf. I once did lend my body for his wealth ; 
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,, 
Had quite mifcarry'd ; I dare be bound again, 
My foul upon the forfeit, that your lord 

The Merchant of Venice. 89 

Will never more break faith advisedly. 

FOR. Then you fhall be his furety: Give him ^ this; 
And bid him keep it better than the other. 

4NT. Here, lord Bajfanio; fwear to keep this ring. 

BAS. By heaven, it is the fame I gave the doftor. 

FOR. I had it of him : pardon me, Ba/anlo\ 
For by this ring the doclor lay with me. 

NER. And pardon me, my gentle Gratia/to; 
For that fame icrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, 
In lieu of this y, laft night did lye with me. 

GRA. Why, this is like the mending of high-ways 
In fummer, where the ways are fair enough: 
What, are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it? 

FOR. Speak not fo grofly._You are all amaz'd:_ 
Here is a 'f letter, [to Baf ] read it at your leisure; 
It comes from Padua, from Bellario: 
There you mall find, that Portia was the doctor; 
NeriJ/a there, her clerk : Lorenzo here 
Shall witnefs, I fet forth as foon as you, 
And but even no'.v return'd; I have not yet 

Enter'd my houfe. Antonio, you are welcome; 

And I have better news in (lore for you, 
Than you expect: unfeal this ^letter foon; 
There you fnall find, three of your argofies 
Are richly come to harbour fuddenly: 
You {hall not know by what ftrange accident 
I chanced on this letter. 

Ant. 1 arn dumb. 

BAS. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? 

GRA. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? 

NER. Ay; but the clerk, that never means to do it, 
Unlefs he live until he be a man. 

L 4 

go Tke Merchant of Venice. 

BAS. Sweet doftor, you fhall be my bedfellow; 
When I am abfent, then lye with my wife. 

Ant '. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and living; 
For here I read for certain, that my Ihips 
Are fafely come to road. 

FOR. How now, Lorenzo? 
My clerk hath fome good comforts too for you. 

NER. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.-. 
Thereof do I give to you, and Jejfica, 
From the rich Jew, a fpecial deed of gift, 
After his death, of all he dies possefTd of. 

LOR. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way 
Of ftarved people. 

FOR. It is almoft morning, 
And yet, I am fure, you are not fatiffy'd 
Of these events at full: Let us go in; 
And charge us there upon inter'gatories, 
And we will anfwer all things faithfully. 

GRA. Let it be fo; The firft inter'gatory, 
That my Neriffa fhall be fworn on, is, 
Whether 'till the next night (he had rather ftay; 
Or go to bed now, being two hours to day: 
But were the day come, I fhould wifh it dark, 
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk. 
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing 
So fore, as keeping fafe Nerifa's ring. [Exeunt. 


Perfons represented. 

Duke, living in Exile: 

bis Brother, Usurper of his Dominions. 

Jaques, a Humor.Jl; 1 fMmert tf ihe 

Amiens and \ banijb* d Duke : 

another Lord, J 

Formers, two, 1 Follgewers ofthefame . 

rages, tivo, J 

Lords of the Usurper's Court, two: 

le Beu, attending the fame: 

Charles, his Wrejller : 

Cltnun, waiting on the PrinceJJes. 

Oliver, Jaques, ~l Brothers; Sons of a 

and Orlando, j Sir Rowland de Boys : 

Adam, and Dennis, Servants to Oliver. 

Corin, and Silvius, Shepherds. 

Sir Oliver Mar-text, a Vicar. 

William, a country fellow. 

a Person presenting Hymen. 

Rosalind, Daughter to the banifi'd Duke. 
Celia, Daughter to the Usurper. 
Phebe, a Sbepberdefs. 
Audrey, a country Wench. 

Attendants upon the Dukes, and Hymen. 

Scene, Oliver'^ Hcufe\ the Usurper's Court ; and different 
Parti of the ForeJI yArden. 



SCENE I. Orchard of OYivtfsHoufe. 
Enter ORLANDO, and ADAM. 

ORL. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this nt|? fa- 
ther bequeathed me by will but a poor thousand crowns ; 
and, as thou fay'ft, charg'd my brother, on his bleffing. 
to breed me well: and there begins my fadncfs. My 
brother Jaques he keeps at fchool, and report fpeaks 
goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rulli- 
cally at home, or, to fpeak more properly, flays me here 
at home unkept; For call you that keeping for a gen- 
tleman of my birth, that differs not from the flailing of 
an ox? His horfes are bred better; for, befides that they 
are fair with their feeding, they are taught their man- 
age, and to that end riders dearly hir'd: but I, his bro- 
ther, gain nothing under him but growth ; for the which 
his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him 
as I. Befides this nothing that he fo plentifully gives 
pie, the fomething that nature gave me his countenance 

i this fafhion bequeathed 

4 A} you like it. 

feems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, 
bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him 
lyes, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, 
.Adam, that grieves me; and the fpirit of my father, 
which I think is within me, begins to mutiny again-ft 
this fervitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I 
know no wise remedy how to avoid it. 
Enter OLIVER. 

ADA. Yonder comes my matter, your brother. 

ORL. Go apart, Adam, and thou fhalt hear how he 
will make me up. 

OLI. Now, fir! what make you here? 

ORL. Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. 

OLI. What mar you then, fir/ 1 

ORL . Marry, fir, I am helping you to mar that which 
God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idle- 

OLT. Marry, fir, be better employ'd, and be nought 
a while. 

ORL. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat huflcs with 
them : What prodigal portion have I fpent, that I fhould 
come to fuch penury ? 

On. Know you where you are, fir? 

ORL. O, fir, very well: here in your orchard. 

OLI. Know you before whom, fir? 

ORL. Ay, better than he I am before knows me. I 
know, you are my eldeft brother; and, in the gentle con- 
dition of blood, you mould fo know me: The courtefy 
of nations allows you my better, in that you are the full 
born; but the fame tradition takes not away my blood, 
were there twenty brothers betwixt us: [ have as much 
of my father in me, as you; albeit, I confefs, your com- 

*6 then him I 

dsjou lite it. 5 

Ing before me Is nearer to his revenue. 

On. What, boy, 

ORL. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young 
in this. 

OLI. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? 

ORL. I am no villain: I am the youngeft fon of fir 
Rowland de Boys ; he was my father; aud he is thrice a 
villain, that fays, fuch a father begot villains: Wert 
thou not my brother, I would not take this hand front 
thy throat, 'till this other had pull'd out thy tongue for 
faying fo ; thou haft rail'd on thyfelf. 

duA. Sweet mafters, be patient; for your father's re- 
membrance, be at accord. 

OLI. Let me go, [ fay. 

ORL. 1 will not, 'till 1 please: you mall hear me. My 
father charg'd you in his will to give me good educa- 
tion: you have trained me like a peasant, obfcuring and 
hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities : the fpirit 
of my father grows ftrong in me, and I will no longer 
endure it: therefore allow me fuch exercises as maybe- 
come a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my 
father left me by teftamcnt; with that I will go buy my 

OLI. And what wilt thou do ? beg, when that is fpent? 
Well, fir, get you in: 1 will not long be troubl'd with, 
you: you (hall have fome part of your will: I pray you, 
leave me. 

ORL. I will no further offend you than becomes me 
for my good. 

OLI. Get you with him, you old dog. 

ADA. Is old dog my reward: Moil true, I have loft 
my teeth in your fervice God be with my old mailer, 

* his reverence. 

6 Ai you like it. 

he would not have fpoke fuch a word! 

[Exeunt ORLANDO, and An AM. 

OLI. Is it even fo? begin you, to grow upon mer I 
will physick your ranknefs, and yet give no thousand 
crowns neither Hola, Dennis. ! 

Enter DENNIS. 

DEN. Calls your worfhip? 

OLI. Was not Charles, the duke's wreftler, here to 
fpeak with me ? 

DEN. So please you, he is here at the door, and im- 
portunes accefs to you. 

OLI. Call him in. [XI/DEKK is.] 'Twill be a good 
way; and to-morrow the wreftling is. 

CHA. Good morrow to your worfhip. 

OLI. Good monfieur Charles'. what's the new news 
at the new court ? 

CHA. There's no news at the court, fir, but the old 
news: that is, the old duke is banifned by his younger 
brother, the new duke; and three or four loving lords 
have put themfelvesinto voluntary exile with him, whose 
lands and revenues enrich the new duke, theiefore he 
gives them good leave to wander. 

OLI. Can you tell, if Rcsalind, the duke's daughter, 
be banifhed with her father? 

CHA. O, no; for the neto duke's daughter, her cou- 
sin, fo loves her, being ever from their cradles bred 
together, that fhe would have followed her exile, or 
have dyed to flay behind her : She is at the court, and 
r.o lefs beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; 
and never two ladies loved as they do. 

OLI. Where will the old duke live? 

*8 that hee would 

As you like it. f 

CaA. They fay, he is already in the foreft of Arden* 
and a many merry men with" him; and there they live 
like the old Robin Hoo dot England: they fay, many young 
gentlemen flock to him every day ; and fleet the time 
carelefly, as they did in the golden world. 

OLI. What, you wreftle to-morrow before the new 

CHA. Marry, do I, fir; and I came to acquaint you 
with a matter. I am given, fir, fecretly to underftand, 
that your younger brother Orlando hath a difposition to 
come in difguis'd againft me to try a fall: To-morrow, 
fir, I wreftle for my credit ; and he that efcapes me with- 
out fome broken limb, mall acquit him well : your bro- 
ther is but young, and tender; and, for your love, I 
would be loth to foil him, as I muft, for my own ho- 
nour, if he come in : therefore, out of my love to you, 
I came hither to acquaint you withal; that either you 
might ftay him from his intendment, or brook fuch dif- 
grace well as he {hall run into; in that it is a thing of 
his own fearch, and altogether againft my will. 

OLI. Charles, 1 thank thee for thy love to me, which 
thou malt find I will molt kindly requite. I had myfeif 
notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by un- 
derhand means labour'd to difTuade him from it; but he 
is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the ftubborneft 
young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious 
emulator of every man's good parts, a fecret and vil- 
lanous contriver againft me his natural brother; there- 
fore use thy difcretion; I had as lief thou did'ft break 
his neck as his finger: And thou wertbeft look to't: for 
if thou doft him any flight difgrace, or if he do not 
mightily grace himfelf on thee, he will praftife againft 

8 As you like if. 

thee by poison, entrap thee by fome treacherous device, 
and never leave thee 'till he hath ta'en thy life by fome 
indirect means or other : for, I allure thee, and almoft 
with tears 1 fpeak it, there is not one fo young and fo 
villanous this day living. I fpeak but brotherly of him ; 
but (hould I anatomize him to thee as he is, 1 muft 
blufh and weep, and thou muft look pale and wonder. 

CHA. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he 
come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment; if ever he 
go alone again, I'll never wrellle for prize more ; And 
ib, God keep your worihip! 

OLI. Farewel, good Charles [Exit CH A.] Now will 
I ftir this gamefter: I hope, I fhall fee an end of him; 
for my foul, yet I know not why, hates nothing more 
than he : Yet he's gentle; never fchool'd, and yet learn- 
ed; full of noble device; of all forts enchanting'y be- 
loved; and, indeed, fo much in the heart of the world, 
and efpecially of my own people, who bell know him, 
that I am altogether mifprised: but it fhall not be fo, 
long; this wreitler fhall clear all: nothing remains, but 
that I kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about. 

SCENE II. Lawn be/are the Palace. 

Enter ROSALIND, axdCzLiA. 

CEL. I pray thee, Rosalind, fweet my ccz', be merry. 

Ros. Dear Celia, \ ihow more mirth than I am mif- 

trefs of; and would you yet 31 were merrier? Unlefs you 

could teach me to forget a banifh'd father, you muft not 

learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. 

CEL. Herein, 1 fee, thou lov'ft me not with the full 

weight that 1 love thee: if my uncle, thy banilhed fa- 

As you like it* -g 

tKer, had banifhed thy uncle, the duke my father, fo 
thou had'ft been iUll with me, I could have taught my 
love to take thy father for mine ; fo would'ft thou, if the 
truth of thy love to me were fo righteoufly tempered as 
mine is to thee. 

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my eflate, 
to rejoice in yours. 

CEL. You know, my father hath no child but I, nor 
none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, thou 
ftialt be his heir : for what he hath taken away from thy 
father perforce, I will render thee again in affection; by 
mine honour, I will; and when I break that oath, let 
me turn monfter: therefore, my fvveet Rose, my dear 
Rase, be merry. 

Ros. From henceforth I will, coz', and devise fports: 
let me fee; What think you of falling in love? 

CEL. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make fport withal: 
but love no man in good earneft; nor no further in fport 
neither, than with fafety of a pure blufh thou may'ft in 
honour come off again. 

Ros. What ihail be our fport then ? 

CEL. Let us fit and mock the good huswife, fortune, 
from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be be- 
llowed equally. 

Ros. I would, we could do fo; for her benefits are 
mightily miiplaced: and the bountiful blind woman 
doth moft miitake in her gifts to women. 

CEL. 'Tis true: for those, that me makes fair, me 
fcarce makes honeil; and those, that ilia makes honeit, 
fhe makes very ill-favour'dly. 

Ros. Nay, now thou goeft from fortune's office to 
nature's : fortune reigns ia gifts of the world, not in thtf 


IO As you like It. 

lineaments of nature. 

Enter Clown. 

CEL. No? When nature hath made a fair creature* 
may (he not by fortune fall into the firer Though na- 
ture hath given us wit to flout at fortune, hath not for- 
tune fent in this fool to cut oft" the argument? 

Ros. Indeed, there is fortune too hard for nature; 
when fortune makes nature's natural the cutter off of 
nature's wit. 

CEL . Peradventure, this is not fortune's work neither, 
but nature's; who perceiving our natural wits too dull 
to reason of fuch goddefles, hath fent this natural for 
our whetftone: for always the dulnefs of the fool is the 
whetftone of the wits._How now, wit? whither wander 

Clo. Miftrefs, you muft eome away to your father. 

CEL. Were you made the meffenger ? 

Clo. No, by mine honour; but I was bid to come 
for you. 

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool ? 

Clo. Of a certain knight, that fwore by his honour 
they were good pancakes, and fwore by his honour the 
muftard was naught: now, I'll ftand to it, the pancakes 
were naught, and the muitard was good; and yet was 
not the knight forfworn. 

. CEL. How prove you that, in the great heap of your 

Ros. Ay, marry, now unmuzle your wisdom. 

Clo. Stand you both forth now: ftroke your chins, 
and fvvear by your beards that I am a knave. 

CEL. By our beards, if we had them, thou art. 

Clo. By my knavery, if I had it, then 1 were: But 

As you like it. \\ 

'if yoo fwear by that that is not, you are not forfworn : 
no more was this knight, fwearing by his honour, for he 
never had any; or if he had, he had fworn it away, 
before ever he faw those pancakes or that muftard. 

CEL. Pr'ythee, who is't that thou mean'ft? 

do. One that old Frederick, your father, loves. 

Ros. My father's love is enough to honour him e- 
nough: fpeak no more of him ; you'll be whipt for tax- 
ation, one of these days. 

Clo. The more pity, that fools may not fpeak wise- 
ly what wise men do foolifhly. 

CEL. By my troth, thou fay'ft true: for fince the lit- 
tle wit, that fools have, was filenc'd, the little foolery, 
that wise men have, makes a great fhew._Here comes 
monfieur le Beu. 

Enter le BEU. 

Ros. With his mouth full of news. 

CEL. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their 

Ros. Then (hall we be news-cram'd. 

CEL. All the better; we mall be the more market- 
able Bon jour, monfieur le Beu: What's the news?- 

le B. Fair princefs, you have loll much good /port. 

CEL. Sport? Of what colour ? 

It B. What colour, madam ? How mall I anfwer you? 

Ros. As wit and fortune will. 

Clo. Or as the deftinies decree. 

CEL. Well faid ; that was lay'd on with a trowel. 

Clo. Nay, if I keep not my rank, 

Ros. Thou loseft thy old fmell. 

le B. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you 
of good wreftling, which you have loit the fight of. 

*7 decrees. 


1 2 As you kke it. 

Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wreftling. 

le B. I will tell you the beginning, and, if it please 
your lady (hips, you may fee the end; for the belt is yet 
to do, and here, where you are, they are coming to per- 
form it. 

CEL. Well, the beginning that is dead and bury'd. 

le B. There comes an old man, and his three fons, 

CEL. I could match this beginning with an old tale. 

le'B. Three proper young men, of excellent growth 
and presence: 

Ros. With bills on their necks, Be it known unto all 
men by these presents. 

le B. The eldeft of the three wreftl'd with Charles, 
the duke's wreftler; which Charles in a moment threw 
him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope 
of life in him : fo he ferv'd the fecond, and fo the third : 
Yonder they lye; the poor old man, their father, mak- 
ing fuch pitiful dole over them, that all the beholders 
take his part with weeping. 

Ros. Alas! 

Clo. But what is the fport, monfieur, that the ladies 
have loft? 

le B. Why, this that I fpeak of. 

Clo. Thus men may grow wiser every day! it is the 
firft time that ever I heard, breaking of ribs was fport 
for ladies. 

CEL. Or I, I promise thee. 

Ros. But is there any elfe longs to fet this broken 
musick in his fides? is there yet another doats upon 
rib-breaking. ? _Shall we fee this wreftling, cousin? 

le B. You muft, if you ftay here; for here is the place 
appointed for the wreitling, and they are ready to per- 

18 to fee this 

As you like it. 1 3 

form it. 

CEL. Yonder, fare, they are coming: Let us now flay 
and Ice it. 

Flourijb. Enter Duke junior, attended; ORLANDO, 
CHARLES, and Others. 

D.j. Come on; fince the youth will not be entreat- 
ed, his own peril on his forvvardnefs. 

Ros. Is yonder the man? 

h B. Even he, madam. 

CEL. Alas, he is too young: yet he looks fucceff- 

D. j. How now, daughter, and cousin ? are you crept 
hither to fee the wreftling ? 

Hos. Ay, my liege; fo please you give us leave. 

D.j. You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, 
there is fuch odds in the men : In pity of the challeng- 
er's youth, I would fain diffuade him, but he will not 
be entreated : Speak to him, ladies ; fee if you can move 

CEL. Call him hither, good monfieur It Beu. 

D.j. Do fo; I'll not be by. 

le B. Monfieur the challenger, the princefles call for 

ORL. T attend them with all refpeft and duty. 

7?os. Young man, have you challeng'd Charles the 
wreft'ler ? 

OKI. No, fair princefs; he is the general challenger: 
I come but in, as others do, to try with him the Itrengrh 
of my youth. 

CF.L. Young gentleman, your fpirits are too bold for 
your years: You have feen cruel proof of this man's 
Strength: if you faw yourfelf with our eyes, or knew 

16 the man: PiinceCe calls. JJ your eves, your judgement, 

M 3 

14 As you like it. 

yourfelf with our judgment, the fear of your adventure 
would counfel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray 
you, for your own fake, to embrace your own fafety, 
and give over this attempt. 

Ros. Do, young fir; your reputation (hall not there- 
fore be mifprised: we will make it our fuit to the duke, 
that the wreflling might not go forward. 

ORL. I befeech you, punilh me not with your hard 
thoughts; wherein F confefs me much guilty, to deny 
fo fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your fair 
eyes, and gentle wilhes, go with me to my trial : wherein 
if J be foil'd, there is but one fham'd that was never 
gracious; if kill'd, but one dead that is willing to be 
fo: I fhall do my friends no wrong, for I hare none to 
lament me; the world no injury, for in it 1 have no- 
thing; only in the world I fill up a place, which may 
be better fupplied when 1 have made it empty. 

.tfos. The little llrength that I have, 1 would it were 
with you. 

CEL. And mine, to eek out hers. 

Kps. Fare you well : Pray heaven, I be decciv'd in 
you I 

CEL. Your heart's desires be with you! 

Cuj, Come, wheie is this young gallant, (hat is fo 
desirous to lye with his mother earth r 

ORL. Ready, fir; but his will hath in it a more 010- 
deft working. 

D j. You (hall try but one fall. 

CHA* No, 1 warrant your grace; you fhall not entreat 
him to a fecond, that have fo mightily ptrfaaded him 
from a firit. 

GJU. You mean to mock me after; you faould r.Qt 

As yen like it. I 5 

have mock'd me fcefore : but come your ways. 

[ They <varejile. 

Ros. Now Hercules be thy fpeed, young man ! 

CEL. I would I were invisible, to catch the ftrong 
fellow by the leg. 

Jtos. O excellent young man ! 

CEL. If 1 had a thunder-boit in mine eye, I can tell 
who IhoulJ down. \_S/.'out. Charles is thrown. 

D.j. No more, no more. 

ORL. Yes, I befeech your grace; I am not yet well 

D j. How doft thou, Charles? 

I? H. He cannot fpeak, my lord. 

D.j. Bear him away. [CHA. is born off.] What is thy 
name, young man? 

ORL. Orlando, my liege; the youngeft fon of fir Row- 
land de Boys. 

D.j. \ would, thou hadft been fon to fome man elfe. 
The world elleeni'd thy father honourable, 
But I did find him llill mine enemy: 
Thou ihou'.d'll have better pleas' d me with this deed, 
Hadft thou defcended from another houfe. 
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth; 
\ would, thou hadft told me of another father. 

[Exeunt Duke junior, Train, and\z Btu. 

CEL. Were I my father, coz', would I do this? 

ORL. [ am more proud to be fir Rowland's fon, 
His youngelt fon, ana would not change that calling, 
To be adopted heir to Frederick. 

Ros. My father lov'd fir Rowland as his foul, 
And all the world was of my father's mind : 
Had 1 before known this young man his fon, 

M 4 

1 6 As you like ii. 

I (hould have given him tears unto entreaties, 
Ere he fhould thus have ventur'd. 

CEL. Gentle cousin, 

Let us go thank him, and encourage him: 
My father's rough and envious difposition 
Sticks me at heart Sir, you have well deserv'd : 
If you do keep your promises in love, 
But juflly as you have exceeded promise, 
Your miftrefs mall be happy. 

Ros. Gentleman, [presenting a Chain from her Neck. 
Wear this for me; one out of fuits with fortune; 

That could give more, but that her hand lacks means 

Shall we go, coz'? 

CEL. Ay: Fare you well, fair gentleman. 

ORL. Can I not fay, I thank your My better parts 
Are all thrown down; and that, which here Hands up, 
Is but a quintaine, a meer Hfelefs block. 

Ros. He calls us back: My pride fell with my fortunes: 

I'll afk him what he would: Did you call, fir? 

Sir, you have wreftl'd well, and overthrown 
More than your enemies. 

CF.L. Will you go, coz'? 

Ros. Have with you:_Fare you well. 

[Exeunt ROSALIND, and CT.LIA. 

ORL. What paflion hangs these weights upon my 

I cannot fpeak to her, yet flie urg'd conference. 

Re-enter le BEU. 

O poor Orlando! thou art overthrown ; 
Or Charles, or fomething weaker, mafiers tliee. 

le .' Good fir, 1 do in friendihip counfel you 
To leave this place: Albeit you have de;erv'd 

S all prcmili 

As you like it. 17 

High commendation, true applause, and love; 
Yet fuch is now the duke's condition, 
That he mifconftrues all that you have done: 
The duke is humorous; what he is, indeed, 
More fuits you to conceive, than me to fpeak of. 

OKI. I thank you, fir: and, pray you, tell me this; 
Which of the two was daughter of the duke, 
That here were at the wreilling? 

le B. Neither his daughter', if we judge by manners; 
But yet, indeed, the (horter is his daughter: 
The other is daughter to the banidi'd duke, 
And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, 
To keep his daughter company; whose loves 
.Are dearer than the natural bond of filters. 
But I can tell you, that of late this duke 
Hath ta'en difpleature 'gain!! his gentle niece; 
Grounded upon no other argument, 
Hut that the people praise her for her virtues, 
And pity her for her good father's fake; 
And, on my life, his malice 'gainft the lady 
Will fuddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well ; 
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 
] fhall desire more love and knowledge of you. 

ORL. 1 reft much bounden to you: fare you well. 

[Exit le BEU. 

Thus muft I from the fmoke into the Another; 
From tyrant duke, unto a tyrant brother: 
But heavenly Rosalind! [Exit. 

SCENE III. A Room in the Palace. 

Enter CE L i A , ami ROSALIND. 
CEL. Why, cousin ; why, KotalinAi Cupid have mer- 

5 then 1 to S here \vas at ' the taller is 

1 8 'jfs you like it. 

cy!_Not a word? 

Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. 

CEL. No, thy words are too precious to be caft swajr 
upon curs, throw fome of them at me ; come, lame me 
with reasons. 

Ros. Then there were two cousins lay'd up ; when 
the one fhould be lam'd with reasons, and the other 
mad without any. 

CEL. But is all this for your father? 

Ros. No, fome of it is for my child's father: O, how 
full of briars is this working-day world! 

CEL. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee 
in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, 
our very petticoats will catch them. 

Ros. I could make them oil my coat; these burs are 
in my heart. 

CEL. Hem them away. 

Ros. I would try; if I could cry, hem, and have him. 

CEL. Come, come, \vreitle with thy affeflions. 

Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrefller than 
myfelf. - 

CF.L. O, a good \vifh upon you ! you will try in time, 
in defpight of a fall. But, turning these jefts out offer- 
vice, let us talk in good earneit: Is it poffible, on fuch 
a iudden, you fhoiiid fall into fo ftrong a liking with 
old lir Rowland's yocngeft fon ? 

Ron. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. 

CKL. Doth it therefore enfue, that you fhould love 
his fon dearly r By this kind of chace, I fliould hate 
him, for my father hated his father dearly ; yet I hate 
r<or Orlando. 

RG". No, 'faith, hate him not, for my fake. 

As you likt it. 19 

CEL. Why mould I? doth he not deserve well? 
Enter Duke, attended. 

Ros. Let me love him for that ; and do you love him 
because I do: Look, here comes the duke. 

CEL. With his eyes full of anger. 

D. j. Miitrefs, difpatch you with your fafeft hafle ? 
And get you from our court. 

Ros. Me, uncle? 

D. j. You, cousin: 

Within these ten days if that thou be'ft found 
So near our pubiick court as twenty miles, 
Thou dy'ft for it. 

Ros. 1 do befeech your grace, 
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me : 
if with myfelf 1 hold intelligence, 
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires; 
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick, 
(As I do truft I am not) then, dear uncle, 
Never, fo much as in a thought unborn, 
Did I offend your highnefs. 

D j. Thus do all traitors; 
If their purgation did confift in words, 
They are as innocent as grace itfelf : 
Let it fumce thee, that I truft thee not. 

Ros. Yet your miilruft cannot make me a traitor: 
Tell me, whereon the likclyhood depends. 

D. j. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. 

Ros. So was I, when your highnefs took his duke- 

So was I, when your liighnefs banifh'd him: 
Treason is not inherited, my lord; 
Or, if we did derive it from our friends, 

i I not > 

20 As you like it. 

What's that to me ? my father was no traitor: 
Then, good my liege, miflake me not fo much, 
To think my poverty is treacherous. 

CEL. Dear fovereign, hear me fpeak. 

D.J. Ay, Celia; we flay'd her for your fake, 
Elfe had fne with her father rang'd along. 

CEL. I did not then entreat to have her ftay, 
It was your pleasure, and your c\vn remorfe; 
I was too young that time to value her, 
But now I know her: if fhe be a traitor, 
Why fo am I; we ftill have flept together, 
Rose at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together; 
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's fwans, 
Still we went coupl'd and infeperable. 

D.j. She is too fubtle for thee; and her fmoothnefs, 
Her very filence, and her patience, 
Speak to the people, and they pity her. 
Thou art a fool : fhe robs thee of thy name; 
And thou wilt (how more bright, and feem more virtuous, 
When fhe is gone: then open not thy lips; 
Firm and irrevocable is my doom 
Which I have pall upon her; fne is banifh'd. 

CEL. Pronounce that fcntence then on me, my liege; 
I cannot live out of her company. 

D.J. You are a fool : You, niece, provide yourfelf; 

If you out-flay the time, upon mine honour, 
And in the greatnefs of my word, you die. 

[Exeunt Duke, atid Attendants. 

CEL. O my poor "Rosalind! whither wilt thou go? 
Wiit thoa change fathers? I will give thee mine. 
\ charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am. 

Ros. I have more cau=e. 

As you like it* 21 

CEL. Thou haft not, cousin; 
Pr'ythee, be cheerful : know'ft thou not, the duke 
Hath banifh'd me his daughter? 
Ros. That he hath not. 

CEL. No? hath not? Rosalind hcks then the love 
Which teacheth me that thou and I am one: 
Shall we be funder'd? (hall we part, Aveet girl? 
No; let my father feek another heir. 
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly, 
Whither to go, and what to bear with us : 
And do not feek to take your charge upon you, 
To bear your griefs yourfelf, and leave me out; 
For, by this heaven, now at our forrows pale, 
Say what thou canft, I'll go along with thee. 
Ros. Why, whither mall we go? 
CEL. To feek my uncle 
In the foreft ofJrJen. 

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, 
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far? 
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold. 

CEL. I'll put myfelf in poor and mean attire, 
And with a kind of umbsr fmirch my face; 
The like do you ; fo fhall we pafs along, 
And never ftir afTailants. 

Ros. Were it not better, 
Because that I am more than common tall, 
That I did fuit me all points like a man? 
A gallant ciirtelafs upon my thigh, 
A boar-fpear in ray hand ; and (in my heart 
Lye there what hidden woman's fear there will) 
We'll have a fwafhing and a martial out:ide; 
As many other manifli cowards have, 

* teacheth thee that 

*Z At yctt like it. 

That do cut-face it with their femblances. 

CEL< What mall I call thee, when thou art a man ? 

Ros. I'll have no worfe a name than l jo=ve\ own page, 
And therefore look you call me, Ganimed. 
But what will you be call'd? 

CEL. Something that hath a reference to my flate; 
No longer Celia, but Aliena. 

Ros. But, cousin, what if we afTay'd to fteal 
The clownifh fool out of your father's court? 
Would he not be a comfort to our travel? 

CEL. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; 
Leave me alone to woo him : Let's away, 
And get our jewels and our wealth together; 
Devise the fitted time, and fafeft way 
To hide us from purfuit that will be made 
After my flight: Now go we in content; 
To liberty, and not to banimment. [Exeunf, 

ACT: n. 

SCENE I. The Fore/f. 

Enter Duke fenior, AMIENS, Lords, 

and Forefters. 

D. f. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, 
Hath not old cuftom made this life more fweet 
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court? 
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
The feasons' difference; as, the icy phang 
And churliih chiding of the winter's wind? 
Which when it bites and blows upon my body, 

*9 we net the 

At j5 liie it. 2 

Even 'till I (brink with cold, I fmile, and fay, 

This is no flattery: these are counfellors 

That feelingly perfuade me what I am. 

Sweet are the ufes of adverfity; 

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head : 

And this our life, exempt from publick haunt, 

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 

Sermons in flones, and good in every thing. 

AMI. I would not change it : Happy is your grace, 
That can tranflate the ftubbornnefs of fortune 
Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftile. 

D.f. Come, fhall we go and kill us venison ? 
And yet it irks me, the pocr dappl'd fools, 
Being native burghers of this desart city, 
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads 
Have their round haunches gor'd. 

I. L. Indeed, my lord, 
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; 
And, in that kind, fwears you do more usurp 
Than doth your brother that hath banifa'd you. 
To-day my lord of Amiens, and myfelf, 
Did (leal behind him, as he lay along 
Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out 
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: 
To the which place a poor fequeiler'd ftag, 
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt, 
Did come to langoUhl and, indeed, my lord, 
The wretched animal heav'd forth fuch groans, 
That their discharge did ftretch his leathern coat 
Almoft to burlting; and the big round tears 
Couri'd one another down his innocent nose 

24 Jtjati like it. 

In piteous chace: and thus the hairy fool, 
Much marked of the melancholy J agues, 
Stood on the extreameit verge of the fwift brook, 
Augmenting it with tears. 

D. f. But what faid Jt/qites ? 
Did he not moralize this ipe^acfe ? 

I.Z.. O, yes, into a thousand fimilies. 
Firft, for his weeping in the needlefs flream; 
Poor deer, quoth he, tbou inak'ft a teftament- 
As worldlings ao, giving thy fum of more 
To that ivbick had too much: Then, being alone, 
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends; 
'Tis right, quoth he; thus misery doth part 
The flux of company : Anon, a carelefs herd, 
Full of the palture, jumps along by him, 
And never Hays to greet him; Ay, quoth Jaqttci, 
Sweep an, you fat and greasy citizens', 
'"Tisjuft the fajbion: Wherefore do you look 
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there ? 
Thus moil inventively he pierctth through 
The body of the country, city, court, 
Yea, and of this our life: fvveaiing, that we 
Are meer usurpers, tyrants, and what's worfe, 
To fright the animals, and kill them up, 
]n their afiign'd and native dwelling-place. 

D. f. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 

AMI. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting 
tJpon the fobbing deer. 

D.J. Show me the place; 
J love to cope him in these fullen fits, 
For then he's full of matter. 

J. L. I'll bring you to him (Iraight. \Exeuntt 

8 into the >* friend; 

'As you like it. 2 5 

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace. 
Enter Duke junior, Lords, and other 


D.j. Can it be poflible, that no man faw them? 
It cannot be; fome \dllains of my court 
Are of confent and fufferance in this. 

1. L. I cannot hear of any that did fee her. 
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, 
Saw her a-bed; and, in the morning early, 
They found the bed ur.treasur'd of their miftrefs. 

2. L. My lord, the roynim clown, at whom fo oft 
Your grace was wont to laugh, is alfo miffing. 
Hefperia> the princefs' gentlewoman, 

Confefles that me fecretly o'er-heard 

Your daughter and her cousin much commend 

The parts and graces of the wreftler 

That did but lately foil the finewy Charles ; 

And (he believes, wherever they are gone, 

That youth is furely in their company. 

D.j. Send to his brother'0, fetch that gallant hither; 
If he be abfent, bring his brother to me, 
I'll make him find him: do this fuddenly; 
And let not fearch and inquisition quail, 
To bring again these foolifli runaways. [Exeunt. 

SCE NE III. Before Oliver's Houfe. 
Enter ORLANDO, and ADAM, 

ORL. Who's there? 

ADA. What, my young mafter ? O my gentle mailer, 

O my fvveet matter, o you memory 

H H fieri* 
VOL. Ill, 

z6 Atyou like if. 

Of old fir Rowland! why, what make you here? 

Why are you virtuous ? Why do people love you ? 

And wherefore are you gentle, flrong, and valiant? 

Why would you be fo fond to overcome 

The bonny priser of the humorous duke? 

Your praise is come too fwiftly home before you. 

Know you not, mailer, to fome kind of mea 

Their graces ferve them but as enemies? 

No more do yours; your virtues, gentle matter, 

Are fanftify'd and holy traitors to you : 

what a world is this, when what is comely 
Envenoms him that bears it! 

ORL. Why, what's the matter? 

ADA. O unhappy youth, 

Come not within these doors; within this roof 
The enemy of all your graces lives: 
Your brother (no, no brother; yet the fon 
Yet not the fon; I will not call him fon 
Of him I was about to call his father) 
Hath heard your praises; and this night he means 
To burn the lodging where you use to lye, 
And you within it: if he fail of that, 
He will have other means to cut you off: 

1 overheard him, and his praclifes. 

This is no place, this houfe is but a butchery; 
Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. 

ORL . Why, whither, Adam, would'ft thou have me go ? 

ADA. No matter whither, fo you come not here. 

ORL. What, would'ft thou have me go and beg my 

food ? 

Or, with a bafe and boiil'rous fword, enforce 
A thievifh living on the common road? 

As you like it. 37 

This I muft do, or know not what to do: 
Yet this L will not do, do how I can; 
] rather will fobjeft me to the malice 
Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. 

ADA. But do not fo: I have five hund.ed crowns, 
The thrifty hire I fav'd under your father, 
Which I did ftore jn-be my fofler nurfe, 
When fervice flhould in my old limbs lye lame, 
And unregarded age in corners thrown; 
Take that'; and He that doth the ravens feed, 
Yea, providently caters for the fparrow, 
Be comfort to my age! Here is~|~the gold ; 
All this I give you: Let me be your fervant; 
Though I look old, yet I am flrong and luily: 
For in my youth I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; , 

Nor did not with unbamful forehead woo 
The means of vveaknefs and debility ; 
Therefore my ae is as a lufty winter, 
Froily, but kindly: let me go with you; 
I'll do the fervice of a younger man 
In all your businefs and neceffities. 

ORL. O good old man ; how well in thee appears 
The conilant fervice of the antique world, 
When fervice fweat for duty, not for meed! 
Thou art not for the fafhion of these times, 
Where none will fweat, but for promotion ; 
And having that, do choak their fervice up 
Even with the having: it is not fo with thee. 
But, poor old man, thou prun'il a rotten tree, 
That cannot fo much as a blofibm yield, 
In Hsu of all thy pains and husbandry: 


28 As ycu. like it. 

But come thy ways, we'll go along together; 
And ere we have thy youthful wages fpent, 
We'll light upon fome fettl'd low content. 

ADA. Mafter, go on; and I will follow thee,. 
To the laft gafp, with truth and loyalty 
Front feventeen years 'till now almoft fourfcore 
Here lived [, but now live here no more. 
At feventeen years many their fortunes feek; 
But at fourfcore, it is too late a week : 
Yet fortune cannot recompence me better, 
Than to die well, and not my mailer's debtor. 


SCENE IV. rbeForeJl. 

Enter ROSALIND in Boys deaths, C E L i A dreft 

like a Shcpberdefs, and Clown. 

Kos. O Jupiter! how weary are my fpirits ! 

do. I care not for my fpirits, if my legs were not 

Ros. I could find in my heart to difgrace my man's- 
apparel, and to cry like a woman: but I mult comfort 
the weaker veflel, as doublet and hose ought to fhow 
itfelf courageous to petticoat; therefore, courage, good 
Ali en a. 

CSL. I pray you, bear with me; I can go no further. 

do. For my part, I had rather bear with you, than 
bear you: yet I mould bear no crofs, if I did bear you; 
for, I think, you have no money in your purfe. 

Ros. Well, this is the foreft of Arden. 

do. Ay, now am I in Arden : the more fool I ; when 
I was at home, I was in a better place; but traveller 
jnufLbe content. 

* feventy 17 how meiiy are 

As you like it. 29 

Enter CORIN, 


Ro-s. Ay, Be fo, good -7W/iW.-__Look yoa, Who 
comes here ? [to Celia. 

A young man, and an old, in folemn talk. 

COR. That is the way to make her fcorn you ftill. 

SIL. O Cor/,-tfiat thou knew'ft how I do love her! 

Co*. I partly guefs; for I have lov'd ere now. 

SIL. No, Corin, being old, thou canft not guefs ; 
Though in thy youth thou waft as true a lover 
As ever iigh'd upon a midnight pillow: 
But if thy love were ever like to mine, 
(As fure 1 think did never man love fo) 
How many actions moil ridiculous 
Haft thou been drawn to by thy fantafy ? 

Cox. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. 

SIL. O, thou didft then ne'er love fo heartily: 
If thou remember'ft not the flighteft folly 
That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou haft not lov'd : 
Or if thou haft not fat as I do now, 
Wearying thy hearer in thy miftrefs' praise, 
Thou haft not lov'd: 
Or if thou haft not broke from company, 
Abruptly, as my paflion now makes me, 
Thou haft not lov'd :_O Pbebe, Pbebe, Pbebe f 


Ros. Alas, poor fhepherd! fearching of thy wound, 
I have by hard adventure found mine own. 

do. And I mine : I remember, when I was in love, 
I broke my fword upon a ftone, and bid him take thaf 
for coming o' nights to Jane Smile: and I remember the 

8 af their wound 

N 3 

30 ds you like //. 

luffing of her batlet, and the cow's dugs that her pretty 
chopt hands had milk d: and I remember the wooing 
of a peafcod inftead of her; from whom I took two cods, 
and, giving her them again, faid with weeping tears, 
Wear these for my fake : We, that are true lovers, run in- 
to ftrange capers ; but as all is mortal in nature, fo is all 
nature in love mortal in folly. 

Ros. Thou fpeak'fl wiser than thou art ware of. 

Clo. Nay, ' fhall ne'er be ware of mine own wit, 
'till I break my (bins againft it. 

Ros. Jove, "Jove! this fhepherd's paflion 
Is much upon my fafhion. 

Clo. And mine ; but it grows fomething ftale with 

CSL. I pray you, one of you queftion yon man, 
If he for gold will give us any food ; 
I faint almoft to death. 

Clo. Hola; you, clown! 

Ros. Peace, fool; he's not thy kinsman. 

COR. Who calls? 

Clo. Your betters, fir. 

COR. Elfe are they very wretched. 

Ros. Peace, I fay: 

Good even to you, friend. 

Co*. And to you, gentle fir, and to you all. 

Ros. I pr'ythee, fhepherd, if that love, or gold, 
Can in this depart place buy entertainment, 
Bring us where we may rtft ourfelves, and feed : 
Here's a young maid with travel much oppreff'd, 
And faints for fuccour. 

COR. Fair fir, I pity her, 
And wi(h for her fake, more than for mine own, 

As you like it. 

My fortunes were more able to relieve her: 

But I am fliepherd to another man, 

And do not meer the fleeces that 1 graze; 

My mafter is of churlifh difposition, 

And little recks to find the way to heaven 

By doing deeds of hofpitality : 

Befides, his cote, his flocks, and bounds of feed 

Are now on fale, and at our ftieep cote now, 

By reason of his abfence, there is nothing 

That you witt-feed on ; but what is, come fee, 

And in my voice moft welcome mall you be. 

Ros. What is he that mall buy his flock and paf- 
ture ? 

Co*. That young fwain that you faw here but ere- 

That little cares for buying any thing. 

Ros. I pray thee, if it liand with honefty, 
Bay thou the cottage, pafture, and the flock, 
And thou {halt have to pay for it of us. 

CEL . And we will mend thy wages : I like this place, 
And willingly could wafte my time in it. 

COR. Afluredly, the thing is to be fold: 
Go with me; if you like, upon report, 
The foil, the profit, and this kind of life, 
1 will your very faithful feeder be, 
And buy it with your gold right fuddenly. [Exeunt. 

SCENE V. r be fame. 
Enter AMIENS, JAQJJES, and Others. 


jiui. Under the greenwood tree 
to lye <voith me t 

Asycu. like it, 

and tune his merry note 
unto the fiueet bird's throat, 
come hither, come hither, come hither } 


here Jh all tve fee 
no enemy, 
but 'winter and rough 'weather. 

More, more, 1 pr'ytbee, more. 
AMI. It will make you melancholy, monfieur Jaques. 
Jji^ I thank it. More, I pr'ythee, more: I can fuck 
melancholy out of a fong, as a weasel fucks eggs : More, 
I pr'ythee, more. 

AMI. My voice is rugged; I know, I cannot please 

JAS^ I do not desire you to please me, I do desire 
you to fing: Come, more; another ftanzo; Call you 
5 em ftanzo's? 

AMI. What you will, monfieur Jaques. 
y^^, Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me 
nothing: Will you fing? 

AMI. More at your requeft, than to please myfelf. 
Jjl^ Well, then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank 
you: but that they call compliment, is like the encoun- 
ter of two dog-apes; and when a man thanks me hear- 
tily, methinks, 1 have given him a penny, and he ren- 
ders me the beggarly thanks. Come, fing; and you that 
will not, hold your tongues. 

AMI. Well, I'll end the fong._Sirs, cover the while; 
the duke will drink under this tree :_ he hath been all 
this day to look you. 

7*3^, And 1 have been all this day to avoid him. He 
is too difputable for my company: I think of as many 

> turne ij ragged 

As you like it. 53 

matters as he; but I give heaven thanks, and make no 
boaft of them. Come, warble, come. 


AMI . Who doth ambition /bun, 
and loves to live ft be fun, 
feehing the food he tats, 
and pleas' d with what he gets, 
ca>ae hither, come hither, come hither; 


- -lure (hall be fee Sec. 

Jjg^ I'll give you a verfe to this note, that I made 
yefterday in defpight of my invention. 
A:.n. And I'll ling it. 
JAS^ Thus it goes: 

If it do come to pafs, 
that any man turn aft, 
leaving his wealth and ease, 
ajlubborn nvt/l to please, 
ducdame, ducdame, ducdame; 
here Jhall he fee 
grojs fools as he, 
an if he ivill come to me. 
AMI. What's that ducdame? 

J^%^ 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a cir- 
cle. I'll go deep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll rail againft 
all the firit-born of Egypt. 

AMI. And I'll go leek the duke; his banquet is ore- 
par'd. [ Exeunt. 

SCENE VI. The Same. 
Enter ORLANDO, and ADAM. 
Dear mailer, I can go no further: O, I die for 

34 As you like it. 

food! Here lye I down, and measure out my grave. 
Farewel, kind matter. 

ORL. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in 
thee? Live a' little; comfort a little; cheer thyfelf a lit- 
tle: If this uncouth foreft yield any thing favage, 1 will 
either be food for it, or bring it for food to thee. Thy 
conceit is nearer death than thy powers. For my fake, 
be comfortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end: I 
will be here with thee presently; and if I bring thee 
not fomething to eat, I will give thee leave to die: but 
if thou dyeft before I come, thou art a mocker of my 
labour. Wellfaid! thou look'ft cheerly : and I'll be with 
thee quickiy. Yet thou lyeft in the bleak air: Come, [ 
will bear thee to fome melter; and thou (halt not die 
for lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this de- 
sert. Cheerly, good Adam! [Exit, bearing him off", 

SCE NE VII. The fame. 
Tables fi t out.* Enter Dakefenior, AMIENS, 

Lords, and Others. 

D.f.\ think, he be tranfform'd into a beaft; 
For 1 can no where find him like a man. 

i. L. My lord, he is but even now gone hence j 
Here was he merry, hearing of a fong. 

D.J. If lie, compaft of jars, grow musical, 
We ftall have fhortly difcord in the fpheres:_ 
Go, feek him; tell him, I would fpeak with him. 

Entt r ] A qp E s . 

I. L. He faves my labour by his own approach, 
D.j\ Why, how now, moniieur! what a life is this, 
That your poor friends muft woo your company, 
9nH cannot ratoe tr What, you look merrily 1 

As you like it. 35 

Jj<>^ A fool, a fool!_I met a fool i'the foreft, 

A motley fool, a miserable world! 

As I do live by food, I met a fool ; 

Who lay'd him down, and bafk'd him in the fun, 

And rail'd on lady fortune in good terms, 

In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool. 

Good morroip, fool, quoth 1: No,Jir, quoth he, 

Call me not foot, 'till heaven hath fent me fortune: 

Arid thenjie drew a dial from his poke; 

And looking on it with lack-luftre eye, 

Says, very wisely, // is ten o'clock: 

7"hus --we may fee, quoth he, how the world wags: 

'T'is but an hour ago, fence it nvas nine ; 

And after one hour more, 'fwi/l be a ele-ven ; 

And fo, from hour to hour, we ripe, and npt> 

And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot y 

And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear 

The motley fool thus moral on the time, 

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 

That fools fhonld be fo deep contemplative j 

And I did laugh, fans intermifiion, 

An hour by his dial O noble fool! 

A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear. 

D.f. What fool is this? 

JjQz, O worthy fool ! One that hath been a courtierj 

And fays, if ladies be but young, and fair, 

They have the gift to know it: and m his brain, 

Which is as dry as the remainder bifquet 

After a voyage, he hath flrange cram'd 

With observation, the which he vents 

In mangl'd forms :_O, that I were a fool! 

I am ambitious for a motley coat. 

36 As you like it. 

D /. Thou fha!t have one. 

Jjf3^ It is my only fuit; 

Pioviced, that you weed your better judgments 
Of all opinion that grows rank in them, 
That I am wise. I muft have liberty 
WithaJ, as large a charter as the wind, 
To blow on whom I please; for fo fools have: 
And they that are molt gauled with my folly, 
They moft muft laugh: And why, fir, mutt they fo? 
The why is plain as way to parifh church : 
He, that a fool doth very wisely hit, 
Doth very foolifhly, although he fmarr, 
J?ot to feem fenfelefs of the bob: if not, 
The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd 
Even by the {quand'ring glances of the fool. 
Invert me in my motley; give me leave 
To fpeak my mind, and I will through and through 
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, 
If they will patiently receive my medicine. 

D.f. Fie on thec! I can tell what thou would'ft do. 

jfjg^. What, for a counter, would I do, but good? 

D.f. Moft mifcheivous foul fin, in chiding fin: 
For thou thyfelf haft been a libertine, 
As fenfual as the brutifh fting itfelf ; 
And all the embofTed fores, and headed evils, 
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught, 
Would'ft thou difgorge into the generahworld. 

Jjtsi^ Why, who cries out on pride, 
That can therein tax any private party ? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the fea, 
'Till that the very very means do ebb I 
What woman in the city do I name, 

3 i the wearic verie 

js you 

When that I fay, The city woman bears 
The coil of princes on unworthy fhoulders? 
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her, 
When fuch a one as (he, fuch is her neighbour? 
Or what is he of bafeil funftion, 
That fays, his bravery is not on my coft, 
(Thinking that I mean him) but therein fuzts 
His folly to the mettle of my fpeech? 
There then ; How, what then? Let me fee wherein 
My fpeecJThath wrong'd him: if it do him right r 
Then he hath wrong'd himfclfj if he be free, 
Why then, my taxing like a wild-goofe flies, 
Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? 
Enter ORLANDO, i>jitb his Sword drawn* 

ORL. Forbear, and eat no more. 

jf"3 Why, I have eat none yet. 

ORL. Nor (halt not, 'till neceffity be ferv'd. 

y^^. Of what kind fhould this cock come of? 

D.f. Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy diftrefs; 
Or elfe a rude defpiser of good manners, 
That in civility thou feem'll fo empty? 

ORL. You touch'd my vein at firit; the thorny point 
Of bare diftrefs hath ta'en from me the (hew 
Of fmooth civility: yet am I in-land bred, 
And know fome nurture: Bat forbear, 1 fay; 
He dies, that touches any of this fruit, 
'Till I and my affairs are anfwered. 

Jj%^ An you will not be anfwer'd with reason, I 
Hiuft die. 

D,f, What would you have? Your gentlenefs fhall 

_More than your force move us to gentlenefs. 

9 how then, what 

38 As you like il. 

ORL. I alrr.cft die for food, and let me have it. 

D. I'. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. 

ORL. Speak you fo gently r Pardon me, I pray you: 
I thought, that all things had been favage here; 
And therefore put I on the countenance 
Of ftern commandment: But whate'er you are, 
That in this desert inacceflible, 
Under the (hade of melancholy boughs, 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; 
If ever >ou have look'd on better days; 
If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church ; 
If ever fat at any good man's feaft; 
If ever from your eyelids wip'd a tear, 
And know what 'tis to pity, and be pity'd ; 
Let gentlenefs my ftrong enforcement be: 
In the which hope, I blufh, and hide my fword. 

D.f. True is it, that we have feen better days; 
And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church; 
And fat at good men's feafts; and wip'd our eyes 
Of drops that facred pity hath engender'd: 
And therefore fit you down in gentlenefs, 
And take upon command what help we have 
That to your wanting may be minift'red. 

ORL. Then but forbear your food a little while, 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn, 
And give it food. There is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary ftep 
Limp'd in pure ove; 'till he be firft fufiic'd, 
Oppreft with two weak evils, age, and hunger, 
I will not touch a bit. 

D.f. Go find him out, 
And we will nothing wafte 'till you return. 

As you like it. 39 

ORL. I thank ye; and be bleit for your good com- 
fort ! [Exit ORLANDO. 

D.f. Thou fee'ft, we are not all alone unhappy: 
This wide and univerfal theatre 
Presents more woful pageants than the fcene 
Wherein we play in. 

Jj3^ All the world's a ftage, 
And all the men and women meerly players: 
They have-their exits, and their entrances; 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being feven ages. At firit, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurfe's arms: 
iJrrtJ then, the whining fchool-boy; with his fatchel, 
And fhining morning face, creeping like fnail 
Unwillingly to fchool : And then, the lover; 
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad 
Made to his miilrefs's eyebrow : Then, a foldier; 
Full of ftrange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honour, fudden and quick in quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the canon's mouth: And then, the juflice; 
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, 
With eyes fevere, and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise faws and modern inilances, 
And fo he plays his part : The fixth age fhifts 
Into the lean and flipper'd pantaloon; 
With fpcdlacles on nose, and pouch on fide; 
His youthful hose well fav'd, a world too wide 
For his fhrunk (hank; and his big manly voice 
Turning again toward childifh treble, pipes 
And whiflles in his found: Laft fcene of all, 
That ends this ftrange eventful hiitory, 

4* As you like it. 

Is fecond childifhnefs, and meer oblivion ; 

Sans teeth, fans eyes, fans tafte, fans every thing. 

Re-enter ORLANDO, luith ADAM. 
D.f. Welcome: Set down your venerable burthen, 
And let him feed. 

ORL. I thank you moft for him. 
ADA. So had you need, 
I fcarce can fpeak to thank you for myfelf. 

D.f~ Welcome, fall to: I will not trouble yoa 

As yet, to queftion you about your fortunes : 

Give us feme musick; and, good cousin, fmg. 

I. St. 

AMI. Bhvj, blow, thou winter tvint?, 
than art not fo unkind 

as man's ingratitude^ 
thy tooth is not fo keen, 
'because thou art not feen, 

although thy breath be rude. 


Weigh, ho! Jjng, heigh, ho! unto the green holly : 
tnoji frierJJhip is feigning, ntojt loving meer folly : 
then, heigh, ho, the holly ! 
this life is mojl jolly. 
If. St. 

Free ze, freeze, thou bitter fky t 
that deft not bite fo nigh 

as benefits forgot : 
though thcu the wafers ivarp t 
thyjling is not fo fiarp 
us friend rsmcm&red not, 

As you like It. ^t 

Thigh, ho! fiflg, heigh, ho! unto the &c. 

D./ If that you were the good fir Rowland's fon, 
As you have whifper'd faithfully, you were; 
And as mine eye doth his effigies witnefs 
Moft truly limn'd, and living in your face, 
Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke, 
That lov'd your father : The residue of your fortune, 
Go to my cave and tell me. _ Good old man, 
Thou artfight welcome, as thy matter is:_ 
Support him by the arm Give me your hand, 
And let me all your fortunes underitand. [Exeunt. 


SCENE I. A Room In the Palace. 
Enter Duke' junior, OLIVER, Lords, and Others, 

D.j. Not fee him fmce? Sir, fir, that cannot be: 
But were I not the better part made mercy, 
I mould not feek an abfent argument 
Of my revenge, thou present: But look to it; 
Find out thy brother, wherefoe'er he is ; 
Seek him with candle: bring him, dead, or living, 
Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more 
To feek a living in our territory. 
Thy lands, and all things that thou doft call thine, 
V/orth feizure, do we feize into our hands; 
'Till thou canft quit thee by thy brother's mouth 
Of what we think again ft thee. 

OLI. O, that your highnefs knew my heart in this; 
I never lov'd my brother in my life. 


f& As you like it. 

D.j. More villain thou Well, pufti him out of doors; 

And let my officers of fuch a nature 

Make an extent upon his houfe, and lands: 

Do this expediently, and turn him going. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. TbeForefi. 
Enter ORLANDO, with a Paper, 
ORL. Hang there, my verfe, in vvitnefs of my love: 

[fixing it to a Tret. 

And, thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, furvey 
With thy chait eye, from thy pale fphere above, 
Thy huntrefs' name, that my full life doth fway. 

Rosalind, these trees (hall be my books, 

And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; 
That every eye, which in this foreft looks, 

Shall fee thy virtue witnefFd every where. 
Run,. run, Orlando; carve, on every tree, 
The fair, the chaft, and unexpreffive me. [Exit. 

Enter GORIN, and Clown. 

COR. And how like you this fhepherd's life, Mr. 

Clo. Truljs ihepherd, in refpeft of itfelf, it is a good 
life; but in refpecl that it is a fhepherd's life, it is 
naught. Inrefpeft that it is folitary, I like it very well; 
but in refpeft that it is private, it is a very vile life. 
Now in refpect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; 
but in refpecl it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it 
is a fpare life, look you, it fits my humour well; but as 
there is no more plenty in it, it goes much againft my 
ftomach. Haft any philofophy in thee, fhepherd? 

Co*. No more, but that I know, the more one fick- 

1 x the worfe at ease he is: and that he that wants me- 

As you like it. 43 

hey, means, and content, is without three good friends: 
That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn : 
That good pafture makes fat fheep: and that a great 
cause of the night, is lack of the fun : That he that hath 
learned no wit by nature nor art, may complain of good 
breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. 

Clo. Such a one is a natural philofopher. Waft ever 
in court, (hepherd? 

COR. No, truly. 

Clo. Then thou art damn'd. 

COR. Nay, I hope, 

Clo. Truly, thou art damn'd; like an ill-roafled egg, 
all on one fide. 

COR. For not being at court? Your reason. 

Clo. Why* if thou never waft at court, thou never 
favv'ft good manners; if thou never faw'ft good manners, 
then thy manners muft be wicked; and wickednefs is 
fin, and fm is damnation: Thou art in a par'lous ftate, 

COR . Not a whit, @r Toucbjlone: those that are good 
manners at the court, are as ridiculous in the country, 
as the behaviour of the country is moft mockable at the 
court. You told me, you falute not at the court, but you 
kifs your hands; that courtefy would be uncleanly, if 
courtiers were {hepherds. 

Clo. Inftance, briefly; come, inftance. 

COR. Why, we are ftill handling our ewes; and their 
fells, you know, are greasy. 

Clo. Why, do not your courtier's hands Aveat ? and 
is not the greafe of a mutton as wholfome as the fweat 
cf a man? Shallow, (hallow : A better inftance, I fay; 

44 -A: }'ou like it. 

COR. Befides, our hands are hard : 

Clo, Your lips will feel them the fooner. Shallow 
again : A more founder inftance; come. 

COR. And they are often tar'd over with the furgery 
of our flieep ; And would you have us kifs tar ? The 
courtier's hands are perfum'd with civet. 

Clo. Moft (hallow man ! Thou worm's meat in re- 
fpecT: of a good piece of fle(h indeed ! Learn of the wise, 
and perpend: Civet is of a bafer birth than tar; the ve- 
ry uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the inftance, fhepherd. 

Co*. You have too courtly a wit for me; I'll reft. 

Clo. Wilt thou reft damn'd? God help thee, mallow 
man ! God make incision in thee! thou art raw. 

COR. Sir, I am a true labourer; I earn that I eat, 
get that 1 wear; owe no man hate, envy no man's hap- 
pinefs ; glad of other men's good, content with my harm : 
and the greateft of my pride is, to fee my ewes graze, 
and my lambs fuck. 

Clo. That is another limple fin in you ; to bring the 
ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your 
living by the copulation of cattle: to be bawd to a bell- 
weather; and to betray a (he-lamb of a twelvemonth to 
a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, out of all reason- 
able match. If thou be'ft not daran'd for this, the devil 
himfelf will have no fhepherdbj I cannot lee elfe how 
thou ftiould'ft fcape. 

COR. Here comes young Mr. Ganimea, my new mi& 
trefs's brother. 

Enter ROSALIND, ivitb a Paper t 

Ros. From the eaft to v:f.: J .ern Inde, 
No jewel is A/k Rosalind. 

As you Tike it. ^~ 

tier 'worth, being mounted on the ivinj, 
Through all the world bears Rosalind. 
Ml the piftures, fair eft limnd, 
Are but black to Rosalind. 
Let no face be kept in mind t 
But the face of Rosalind. 

CIo. I'll rime you fo, eight years together; dinners, 
and (uppers, and fleeping hours excepted: it is the right 
butter-women's rank to market. 
Ros. Out, fool! 
Clo. Foratafte: 

If a hart do lack a hind, 
Let bimfeek out Rosalind. 
Jf the cat 'will after kind, 
So, be fure, 'will Rosalind. 
Winter garments muft be lin V, 
So mujl fienJer Rosalind. 
They that reap muft Jbeaf and bind', 
Then to cart --with Rosalind 
S*wee!eft nut hath four ejl rind\ 
Such a nut is Rosalind. 
He that j-uveet eft rose tuiHJinJ, 
Muft find love's prick t and Rosalind. 
This is the very falfe gallop of verfes; Why do you in- 
feft yourfelf with them.' 

Ros. Peace, you dull fool; I found them on a tree. 
Clo. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. 
Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I mall graffit 
with a medler: then it will be the earlieft fruit i' the 
-country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half ripe, and 
that's the right virtue of the medler. 

Clo. You have faid; but whether wisely, or no, let 

3 falreft IS.ndi, 6 ; bffaire i>f 


46 As you like it. 

the forefl judge. 

Enter CELIA, with a Paper. 
Ros. Peace! 

Here comes my fitter, reading; ftand afide. 
CEL . Why Jhould this & desart be ? 

For it is unpeopled? No^ 
Tongues I'll hang on every tree, 

That Jhall civil jayings Jhovj. 
Some, bow brief the life of man 

Runs bis erring pilgrimage; 
That the Jlr etching ofafpan 

Buckles in his Jum of age. 
Some, of violated vovas 

'Tivixt the fouls of friend and friend; 
But upon the fair eft boughs ; 

Or at every Jentence 1 end. 
Will I Rosalinda vurite ; 

Teaching all that read, to know 
'The quintessence of every fprite 

H(a<ven *would in little Jhoiu. 
Therefore heaven nature charged 

That one body Jhouid be filled 
With all graces vjide enlargd: 

Nature presently dijiilfd 
Helen'j cheek, but not her heart ; 

Cleopatra'/ majefly ; 
Atalanta'j better part \ 

Sad LucretiaV madefy. 
Thus Rosalind of many parts 

By heavenly fynod nvas devised \ 
Of many faces, eyes, and hearts, 

To have the touches dear eft priz'd, 

>5 not his heart 

jtfs you like it. -47 

'Heaven would that /he these gifts JhouU have. 
And I to live and die her jla<ve, 

Ros. O moft gentle Jupiter, what a tedious homily 
of love have you weary'd your parishioners withal, and 
never cry'd, Have patience, tood people! 

CEL. How now ! back friends: Shepherd, go off a 

little: Go with him, firrah. 

Clo. Come, fhepherd, let us make an honourable re- 
treat; though not with bag and baggage, yet with fcrip 
and fcripage. [Exeunt CORIN, and Clown. 

CEL. Did'ft thou hear these verfes? 

Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for 
fome of them had in them more feet than the verfes 
would bear. 

CEL. That's no matter; the feet might bear the ver- 

Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame, and could not bear 
themfelves without the verfe, and therefore flood lamely 
in the verfe. 

CEL. But did'ft thou hear, without wond'ring how 
thy name mould be hang'd and carved upon these trees? 

Ros. I was feven of the nine days out of wonder, 
before you came; for look ~J~ here what I found on a 
palm tree : I was never fo be-rim'd fmce Pythagoras* 
time, that I was an Irijb rat, which I can hardly re- 

CEL. Trow you who hath done this? 
*Ros. Is it a man? 

CEL. Ay, and a chain, that you once wore, about his 
.neck: Change you colour? 

Ros. I pr'ythee, who? 

ZL, O lord, lord! it is a hard matter .for -friends to 


48 As you like It. 

meet 1 btft mountains may be remov'd with earthquakes, 
and fo encounter. 

Ros. Nay, but who is it? 

CEL. Is it poffibie"? 

Ros. Nay, I pray thee now, with molt petitionary 
vehemence, tell me who it is. 

CEL. O wonderful, wonderful, and moft wonderful 
wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out 
of all hooping! 

Ros. Od's my complexion! doft thou think, though 
I am caparifon'd like a man, that I have a doublet and 
hose in my difposition? One inch of delay more is a 
ibuth-fea-off difcovery. I pr'ythee, tell me, who is it? 
quickly, and fpeak apace: I would thou could'ft Ham- 
mer, that thou might'il pour this conceal'd man out .of 
thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- mouth'd bot- 
tle; either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee, 
take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy 

CEL. So you may put a man in your belly. 

Ros. Is he of God's making? What manner of man ? 
I? his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? 

CEL, Nay, he hath but a little beard. 

Ros. Why, God will fend more, if the*man will be 
thankful: let me flay the growth of his beard, if thou. 
delay me not the knowledge of his chin. 

CEL. It is young Orlando; that tript up the wreftler's 
heels, and your heart, both in an inftant. 

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking; fpeak fad 
brow, and true maid. 

CEL. 1'faith, coz', 'tis he. 

Ros. Orlando? 

S pre'thee 1 Good my '3 South- fea of 

As ycu like it. j^ 

CEL. Orlando. 

Ros. Alas the day! what fliall I do with my doublet 
and hose?_What did he, when thou faw'ft him r What 
faid he? How look'd he? Wherein went he? What makes 
he here: Did he afk for me? Where remains he? How 
parted he with thee? and when {halt thou fee him again? 
Anfvver me in one word. 

CEL. You muft borrow me Gargantuan mouth firft; 
'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's fize: 
To fay, ay, and no, to these particulars, is more than 
to anfwer in a catechism. 

Ros. But doth he know that I am in this foreft, and 
in man's apparel? Looks he as frefhly as he did the day 
he wreftl'd? 

CEL. It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the 
propositions of a lover; but take a talk of my finding 
him, c.nd relifh it with good observance. 1 found hiin 
under a tree, like a drop'd acorn. 

Ros. It may well be call'd Jovis tree, when it drops 
fuch fruit. 

CEL. Give me audience, good madam, 

Ros. Proceed. 

CEL. There lay he, ftretch'd along, like a wounded 

Ros. Though it be pity to fee fuch a fight, it well 
becomes the ground. 

CEL. Cry, hola, to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it cur- 
yets unfcasonably. -He was fumith'd like a hunter. 

Ros O ominous ! he comes to kill my hart. 

CEL. I would fmg my long without a burthen: thou 
bring'it me out of tune. 

Ros. Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think, 

*9 droppes forth fuch *7 to the tongue 

Q As you like it. 

I muft fpeak. Sweet, fay on. 


CEL. You bring me out; Soft! comes he not here? 

J?os. 'Tis he; Slink by, and note him. [retiring. 

J^tQ. I thank you for your company ; but, good faith, 
I had as lief have been myfelf alone. 

ORL And fo had I ; but yet, for fafhion fake, I thank 
you too for your fociety. 

Jjg^God -be wi'you; let's meet as little as we can. 

ORL. I do desire we may be better ftrangers. 

J*Q^ I pray you, mar no more trees with writing 
love-fongs in their -barks. 

OXL. I pray you, mar no more of my verfes with 
reading them ill-favour'dly. 

Jj3 Rosalindas your love's name? 

OR.L. Yes, j oft. 

y^tS^ I do not like her name. , 

ORL. There was no thought of pleasing you, when 
ihe was chriften'd. 

7^ What ftature is (he of? 

ORL. Juft as high as my heart. 

J-*^ You are full of pretty anfwers : Have you not 
been acquainted with goldfmiths' wives, and con'd them 
out of rings? 

O*i. Not fo; but I anfwer you right painted cloth, 
from whence you have ftudy'd your queftions. 
.7^. You have a nimble wit; I think, 'twas made of 
jftalanras heels. Will you fit down with me; and we 
two will rail againft our miflrefs, the world, and all our 

ORL. I will chide no breather in the world, but my- 
felfj againft whom I know moft faults. 

-jis you like it. rj 

JjiSt^ The worft fault you have is, to be in love. 

ORL. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your belt vir- 
tue. 1 am weary of you. 

J^>^ By my troth, I was feeking for a fool, when I 
found you. 

ORL. He is drown'd in the brook; look but in, and 
you ihall fee him. 

Jj3^ There 1 {hall fee mine own figure. 

ORL. Which I take to be either a fool, or a cypher. 

J^g^ I will tarry no longer with you: farevvel, good 
fignior love. 

ORL. lam glad of your departure: adieu, good mon- 
fieur melancholy. [Exit JACVUES. 

Ros. " 1 will fpeak to him [to Cel.] like a favicy" 
" lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with" 
*' him." Do you hear, forefter? [advances. 

ORL. Very well; What would you? 

Ros. I pray you, what is't o'clock? 

ORL. You mould nfk me, what time o'day; there's 
no clock in the forefr.. 

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the foreft ; elfe 
fighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would 
deteft the lazy foot of time, as well as a clock. 

ORL. And why not the fwift foot of time? had not 
that been as proper t 

Ros. By no means, fir; Time travels in divers paces 
with divers perfonsr I'll tell you who time ambles with- 
al, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and 
who he {lands ftill withal. 

ORL. I pr'ythee, whom doth he trot withal? 

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, be- 
tween the contract of her marriage and the day it is fo- 

5 2 4s you like it. 

lemniz'd: if the interim be but a fe'night, time's pace 
is fo hard that it feems the length of feven year. 

ORL. Who ambles time withal? 

Ros. With a prieft that lacks Latin, and a rich man 
that hath not the gcut: for the one fleeps easily, because 
he canuot ftudy ; and the other lives merrily, because he 
feels no pain : the one lacking the burthen of lean and 
waftful learning; the other knowing no burthen of hea- 
vy tedious penury : These time ambles withal. 

ORL. Whom doth he gallop withal? 

Ros. With a thief to the gallows : for though he go 
as foftly .as foot can fall, he thinks himfelf too foon 

ORL. Who (lays it ftill withal? 

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation: for they fleep 
between term and term, and then they perceive not how 
time moves. 

ORL. Where dwell you, pretty youth? 

Ros. With this fhepherdefs, my fifter; here in the 
'ikirts of the foreft, like fringe upon a petticoat. 

ORL. Are you native of this place? 

Ros. As the coney, that you fee dwell where fhe is 

O.RZ. Your accent is fomething finer than you could 
purchafe in fo removed a dwelling. 

Ros. I have been told fo of many: but, indeed, an 
old religious uncle of mine taught me to fpeak, who 
was in his youth an in-land man ; one that knew court- 
fhip too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard 
him read many lectures againft it; and I thank God I 
am not a woman, to be touch'd with fo many giddy of- 
fences as he hath generally tax'd their whole fex withal. 

As ycu like it. ^ 

ORL. Can you remember any of the principal evib, 
that he lay'd to the charge of women? 

Ros. There were none principal; they were all like 
one another, as half-pence are: every one fault feeming 
monftrous, 'till his fellow fault came to match it. 
ORL. I pr'ythee, recount fome of them. 
Ros. No; I will not cail away my physick, but on 
those that are fick. There is a man haunts the foreft, 
that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind on 
their barks; hangs odes upon hauthorns^ and elegies on- 
brambles ; all, forfooth, deifying the name of Rosalind: 
if I could meet that fancy-monger, I would give him 
fome good counfel, for he feems to have the quotidian 
of love upon him. 

ORL. I am he that is fo love-ftiak'd; I pray you, tell 
me your remedy. 

Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: 
he taught me how to know a man in love; in which, 
cage of rumes, 1 am fure, you are not prisoner. 
ORL. What were his marks? 

Ros. A lean cheek; which you have not: ablueeye r 
and funken ; which you have not : an unqueftionable 
fpirit; which you have not: a beard neglected; which 
you have not: but I pardon you for that; for, fimply, 
your having in beard is a younger brother's revenue: 
Then your hose mould be ungarter'd, your bonnet un- 
banded, your fleeve unbutton'd, your (hoe unty'd, and 
every thing about you demonftrating a carelefs defola- 
tion. Bat you are no fuch man ; you are rather point-de- 
vice in your accoutrements; as loving you,rfelf, than 
feeming the lover of any other. 

OKI,. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe 

54 dt you like it. 

I love. 

Ros. Me believe it? you may as Toon make her that 
you love believe it; which, I warrant, fhe is apter to do, 
than to confefs flie does ; that is one of the points in the 
which women ftill give the lie to their confciences. But, 
in good footh, are you he that hangs the verfes on the 
trees, wherein Rosalind is fo admired? 

ORL. I fwear to thee, youth, by the white hand of 
Rosalind^ I am that he, that unfortunate he. 

Ros. But are you fo much in love as your rimes fp- 

ORL. Neither rime nor reason can exprefs ho\v 

Ros. Love is meerly a madnef,; and, I tell you, de- 
serves as well a dark houfe and a whip, as madmen do: 
and the reason why they are not fo punifh'd and cured 
is, that the lunacy is fo ordinary, that the whippers are 
in love too: Yet J profefs curing it by counfel. 

ORL. Did you ever cure any fo? 

Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He was to ima- 
gine me his love, his miftrefs; and 1 fet him every day 
to woo me: At which time would I, being but a moon- 
ifh youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, 
and liking; proud, fantastical, apifli, mallow, inconltant, 
full of tears, full of fmiles; for every paffion fomething, 
and for no paffion truly any thing, as boys and women 
are for the moil part cattle of this colour : would now 
like him, now loath him; then entertain him, then for- 
fwear him ; now weep for him, then fpit at him ; that I 
drave my fuitor from his mad humour of love, to a liv- 
ing humour of madnefs; which was, to lorfwear the full 
iiream of the world, and to live in a nook meerly mo- 

As you like it. y'e 

naftick: And thus I cur'd him; and this way will I take 
upon me to wa(h your liver as clear as a found fheep's 
heart, that there fliall not be one fpot of love in't. 

ORL. I would not be cur'd, youth. 

Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call me Ro- 
salind, and come every day to my cote, and woo me. 

ORL. Now, by the faith of my love, I will; tell me 
where it is. 

Ros. Go with me to it, and I'll {hew it you: and, 
by the way, you (hall tell me where in the foreft you 
live : Will you go? 

ORL. With all my heart, good youth. 

Ros. Nay, you mult call me Rosa/ind: Come, fitter, 

will you go? [Exeunt. 

SCENE III. The fame. 

Enter Clown, and AUDREY; JAQJJES 

at a Dijiance, observing them. 

Clo. Come apace, good Audrey ; I will fetch up your 
goats, Audrey: And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? 
Doth my fitnple feature content you? 

AUD. Your features! (Lord warrant us!) what feat- 
ures ? 

G/a. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the moft 
capricious poet, honeft Ovid, was among the Goths. 

JjiQ^ " O knowledge ill-inhabited! worfe thanJW^ 
" in a thatch'd houfe." 

Clo. When a man's verfes cannot be underftood, nor 
a man's good wit feconded with the forward child, un- 
derilanding, it itrikes a man more dead than a great 
reck'ning in a little room : _Truly, I would the gods 
had made thee poetical. 

^6 -As ysu like it. 

AUD. I do not know what poetical is : Is it honeft in 
deed, and word? Is it a true thing? 

C/o. No, truly; for the trueft poetry is the moil 
feigning; and lovers are given to poetry ; and what they 
fwear in poetry, may be laid, as lovers, they do feign. 

AUD. Do you wiih then, that the gods had made me 

C/o. I do, truly: for thou fwear'ft to me, thou ar: 
honelt; now, if thou wert a poet, I might have fome 
hope thou didft feign. 

AVD. Would you not have me honeft? 

Clo. No, truly, unlefs thou wert hard-favour'd : for 
honefty coupi'd to beauty, is to have honey a fauce to 

7^^, " A material fool !" 

AVD. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the 
gods make me honeft. 

C/o. Truly, and to caft away howefly upon a foul 
flut, were to put good meat into an unclean dilh. 

AUD. 1 am not a flut ; though, I thank the gods, I am 

Clo. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulnefs; flut- 
tifhnefs may come hereafter. But be it as it may be, I 
will marry thee: and to that end, I have been with fir 
Oliver Mar-text, the vicar of the next village ; who hath'd to meet me in this place of the foreit, and to 
couple us. 

jFj% " I would fain fee this meeting". 

duo. Well, the gods give us joy! 

Clo. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful 
heart, flagger in this attempt ; for here we have no tem- 
ple but the wood, no aflcmb!)' but hora-beafts. But what 

As you like it. ^7 

though? Courage! as horns are odious, they are necef- 
fary. It is faid, Many a man knows no end of his goods : 
right; many a man has good horns, and knows no end 
of them. Well, that is the dowry of his wife; 'tis none 
of his own getting. Horns ? Even fo: Poor men alone? 
No, no; the nobleft deer hath them as huge as the raf- 
cal. Is the fingle man therefore blefled ? No : as a wall'd 
town is more worthier than a village, fo is the forehead 
of a marry'd man more honourable than the bare brow 
of a batchelor: and by how much defence is better than 
no /kill, by fo much is a horn more precious than to 

Enter Sir Oliver Mar-text. 

Here comes fir Oliver: Sir Oliver Mar-text, you are 

well met : Will you difpatch us here under this tree, or 
lhall we go with you to your chapel? 

Sr.O. Is there none here to give the woman? 

do. I will not take her on gift of any man. 

Sr. O. Truly, (he muft be given > or the marriage is 
not lawful. 

J^e^ Proceed, proceed; I'll give her. 

Clo. Good even, good Mr. What d'ye ca!!'t: How 
do you, fir? You are very well met: God'ild you for 
your laft company: I am very glad to fee you: Even a 
toy in hand here, fir: Nay, pray be cover'd. 

Jj%^ Will you be marry'd, motley ? 

Clo. As the ox hath his bough, fir, the horfe his curb, 
and the faulcon her bells, fo man hath his desires; and 
as pigeons bill, fo wedlock would be nibling. 

JjQz And will you, being a man of your breeding, 
be marry'd under a bufh, like a beggar? Get you to 
church, and have a good prieft that can tell you what 

a? his bow fir 

58 As you like it. 

marriage is: this fellow "f-will but join you together as 
they join wainfcot; then one of you will prove a mrunk 
pannel, and, like green timber, warp, warp. 

Clo. " I am not in the mind but I were better to" 
" be marry'd of him than of another : for he is not like" 
" to marry me well ; and not being well marry'd, it" 
" will be a good excufe for me hereafter to leave my" 

jAQt. Go thou with me, and let me counfel thee. 
Clo. Come, fweet Audrey ; 

We muft be marry'd, or we muft live in bawdry. _ 
Farewel, good Mr. Oliver: 

Not, o fweet Oliver, 
O brave Oliver, 
Leave me not behind thee ; 
But wind away, 
Begone, I fay, 
I will not to wedding with thee. 

\Exeunt JAQJJES, Clown, and AUDREY. 

Sr. O. 'Tis no matter; ne'er a fantaflical knave of them 

all mall flout me out of my calling. [Exit. 

SCENE IV. The fame. 

Ros. Never talk to me, I will weep. 

CEL. Do, I pr'ythee ; but yet have the grace to con- 
fider, that tears do not become a man. 

Ros. But have I not cause to weep ? 

CEL. As good cause as one would desire; therefore 

Kos. His very hair is of the diflembling colour. 

CEL. Something browner than Jiu/aSs: marry, his 

As you like it* j<j 

kifies are JuJas's own children. 

Ros. 1'faith, his hair is of a good colour. 

CEL. An excellent colour: your chefnut was ever the 
only colour. 

Ros. And his luffing is as full of fan&ity as the touch 
of holy beard. 

CEL. He hath bought a pair of caft lips of Diana: a. 
nun of winter's fifterhood kiffes not more religioufly; 
the very ice of chaftity is in them. 

Ros. But why did he fwear he would come this morn- 
ing, and comes not? 

CEL. Nay, certainly there is no truth in him. 

Ros. Do you think fo? 

CEL . Yes : I think he is not a pick-purfe, nor a horfe- 
ftealer; but for his verity in love, I do think him as 
concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm-eaten nut. 

Ros. Not true in love? 

CEL. Yes, when he is in ; but, I think, he is not in. 

Ros. You have heard him fwear downright, he was. 

CEL. Was is not is : befides, the oath of a lover is no 
ftronger than the word of a tapfter; they are both the 
confirmers of falfe reck'nings : He attends here in the 
foreft on the duke your father. 

Ros. I met the duke yefterday, and had much quef- 
tion with him: He afk'd me, of what parentage I was; 
I told him, of as good as he: fo he laugh'd, and let me 
go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is fuch a 
man as Orlando? 

CEL. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verfes, 
fpeaks brave words, fwears brave oaths, and breaks them 
bravely, quite traverfe, athwart the heart of his lover; 
as a puny tilter, that fpurs his horfe but on one fide, 

* holy bread. ** confirmer 

P 2 

60 At you like it. 

breaks his ftafFlike a noble goofe: but all's brave, that 
youth mounts, and folly guides: Who comes here? 
Enter Co R I N . 

COR. Miftrefs, and matter, you have oft enquired 
After the fhepherd that complain'd of love; 
Whom you faw fitting by me on the turf, 
Praising the proud difdainful fhepherdefs 
That was his miilrefs. 

CEL. Well, and what of him ? 

COR. If you will fee a pageant truly play'd, 
Between the pale complexion of true love 
And the red glow pf fcorn and proud difdain, 
Go hence a little, and I fiiall conduct you, 
If you will mark it. 

Ros. O, let us remove; 
The fight of lovers feedeth those in love : 
Come, bring us to this fight; and you mail fay 
I'll prove a busy after in their play. [Exeunt, 

SCENEV. The fame. Mother Part of it. 


Sn. Sweet Pbebe, do not fcorn me; do not, Pbebe : 
Say, that you love me not; but fay not fo 
Jn bitternefs: The common executioner, 
Whose heart the accuftom'd fight of death makes hard, 
Falls not the axe upon the humbl'd neck, 
But firft begs pardon; Will you fterner be 
Than he that eyes, and lives by, bloody drops? 
Enter CELIA and ROSALIND, at aBiftance, 

Corin leading them. 

PKE. I would not be thy executioner; 
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. 

* s that dies and 

d$ ycu like it. 6 1 

Thou tell'ft me, there is murder in mine eye : 

*Tis pretty, fure, and very probable, 

That eyes, that are the firaii'ft and fofteft things, 

Who (hut their coward gates on atomies, 

Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! 

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; 

And, if mine eyes can wound, npw let them kill thee: 

Now counterfeit to fwoon ; why, now fall down; 

Or, if thou canft not, o, for (hame, for fhame, 

Lie not, to fay mine eyes are murderers. 

Now fhew the wound mine eye hath made in thee: 

Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 

Some fear of it; lean but upon a rufh, 

The cicatrice and capable impreffure 

Thy palm fome moment keeps: but now mine eyes, 

Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not; 

Nor, I am fure, there is no force in eyes, 

That can do hurt to anj> 

SIL . O dear Phebe, 
If ever (as that ever may be near) 
You meet in fome frelh cheek the power of fancy, 
Then (hall you know the wounds invisible 
That love's keen arrows make. 

PHE. But, 'till that time, 

Come not thou near me: and, when that time comes, 
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; 
As, 'till that time, I (hall not pity thee. 

Ros. And why, I pray you? \_ad-v ancingJ^ Who might 

be your mother, 

That you infult, exult, and all at once, 
Over the wretched? What though you have no- beauty, 
(As, by my faith, I fee no more in you 

6 2 As you like' it. 

Than without candle may go dark to bed) 
Mult you be therefore proud and pitilefs? 
Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? 
I fee no more in you, than in the ordinary 
Of nature's fale-work:_ Od's my little life! 

I think, (he means to tangle mine eyes too: 

.No, 'faith, proud miftrefs, hope not after it; 
'Tis not your inky brows, your black-filk hair, 
Your bugle eye-balls, nor your cheek of cream, 
That can entame my fpirits to your wormip._ 
You foolifh fhepherd, wherefore do you follow her, 
Like foggy fouth, puffing with wind and rain? 
You are a thousand times a properer man, 
Than fhe a woman : 'Tis fuch fools as you 
That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children : 
'Tis not her glafs, but you, that flatters her; 
And out of you fhe fees herfelf more proper 

Than any of her lineaments can ffiow her 

But, miftrefs, know yourfelf; down on your knees, 
And thank heaven, rafting, for a good man's love: 
For I muft tell you friendly in your ear, 
Sell when you can, you are not for all markets:* 
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer; 
Foul is moft foul, being foul to be a fcoffer. 
So, take her to thee, fhepherd ; fare you well. 

PHE. Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together; 
Iliad rather hear you chide, than this man woo. 

Ros. He's fallen in love with her foulnefs, and fhe'll 
fall in love with my anger:_lf it be fo, as faft as fhe 
anfwers thee with frowning looks, I'll fauce her with 
bitter words. _Why look you fo upon me? 

P&E. For no ill will I bear you. 

zS \vith yyur foulnefle 

At jsu like it. 63 

Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 
For I am falfer than vows made in wine : 
Befides, I like you not: If you will know my houfe, 
'Tis at the tuft of olives, here hard by:_ 

Will you go, filler ? Shepherd, ply her hard: 

Come, filler :_Shepherdefs, look on him better, 
And be not proud : though all the world could fee, 

None could be fo abus'd in fight as he. 

Come, to our flock. [Exeunt Ros. CEL. and Cor. 

PHE. Dead fhepherd, now I find thy faw of might;"" 
Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at firft fight? 

SIL. Sweet Phebe 

PHE. Ha! What fay 'ft thou, Si/vim? 

SIL. Sweet Pbebe, pity me. 

PHE. Why, I am forry for thee, gentle Sifaius. 

SIL . Wherever forrow is, relief would be : 
If you do forrow at my grief in love, 
By giving love, your forrow and my grief 
Were both extermin'd. 

PHE. Thou haft my love; Is not that neighbourly? 

SIL. I would have you. 

PHE. Why, that were covetoufnefs. 
Sil-vius, the time was, that I hated thee; 
And yet it is not, that I bear thee love: 
But fince that thou canft talk of love fo well, 
Thy company, which eril was irkfome to me, 
I will endure; and I'll employ thee too: 
But do not look for further recompence, 
Than thine own gladnefs that thou art employ'd. 

SIL. So holy, and fo perfeft is my love, 
And I in fuch a poverty of grace, 
That I ihall think it a moft plenteous crop 


6 4. jSt you like it, 

To glean the broken ears after the man 
That the main harveft reaps: loofe now and then 
A fcatter'd Anile, and that I'll live upon. [while? 

PBE. Know'ft thou the youth that fpoke to me ere- 
SIL. Not very weil, but I have met him oft; 
And he hath bought the cottage, and the bounds, 
That the old Carlot once was mafter of. 

PBE. Think not I love him, though I afk for him; 
'Tis but a peeviih boy; Yet he talks well; 
But what care I for words? Yet words do well, 
When he that fpeaks them pleases those that hear. 
It is a pretty youth; Not very pretty: 
But, fure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him: 
He'll make a proper man: The belt thing in him 
Is his complexion; and fafter than his tongue 
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. 
He is not tall ; yet for his years he's tall : 
His leg is but fo fo; and yet 'tis well: 
There was a pretty rednefs in his lip; 
A little riper and more lufty red 
Than that mixt in his cheek; 'twas juft the difference 
Betwixt the conftant red and mingl'd damafe. 
There be fome women, Sil--uius, had they mark'd him 
In parcels as I did, would have gone near 
To fall in love with him: but, for my part, 
I love him not; nor hate him not; and yet 
I have more cause to hate him than to love him : 
For what had he to do to chide at me ? 
He faid, mine eyes were black, and my hair black, 
And, now I am remember'd, fcorn'd at me: 
I marvel, why I anfwer'd not again: 
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance: 

7 not very tall 

As you like it. 6 J 

I'll write to him a very taunting letter, 
And thou (halt bear it ; Wilt them, Sil'jitts? 

SIL. Phcbe, with all my heart. 

PHE. I'll write it flraight; 
The matter's in my head, and in my heart: 
I will be bitter with him, paffing fhort: 
jQo with me, Silviui. [ Exeunt. 

SCENE I. r he fame. 

I pr'ythee, pretty youth, let me be better ac- 
quainted with thee. 

Ros. They fay, you are a melancholy fellow. 
J^Q^ I am fo; I do love it better than laughing. 
Ros. Those that are in extremity of either are abo- 
minable fellows ; and betray themfelves to every mod- 
ern cenfure, worfe than drunkards. 

, Why, 'tis good to be fad and fay nothing. 
. Why then, 'tis good to be a poft. 

I have neither the fcholar's melancholy, which 
is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantaftical ; 
nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the foldier's, 
which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politick; 
nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is 
all these : but it is a melancholy of mine own, compoun- 
ded of many fimples, extracted from many objects, and, 
indeed, the fundry contemplation of my travels, in which 
my often rumination wraps me in a molt humorous fad- 

6 him, and paffing 

66 4s you like it. 

Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great rea- 
son to be fad : I fear you have fold your own lands, to 
fee other men's; then, to have feen much, and to have 
nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. 

Jj> Yes, I have gain'd my experience. 

Ros. And your experience makes you fad : I had ra- 
ther have a fool to make me merry, than experience to 
make me fad ; and to travel for it too. 

ORL. Good day, and happinefs, dear Rosalind! 

Nay then, God be wi'you,an you talk in blank 

verfe. [ Exit J A QJJ E s . 

Ros. Farewel, monfieur traveller : Look, you lifp, and 
wear ftrange fuits; difable all the benefits of your own 
country; be out of love with your nativity, and almoft 
chide God for making you that countenance you are; 
or I will fcarce think you have fwam in a gondola. _ 
Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been all this 
while ? You a lover? An you ferve me fuch another trick, 
never come in my fight more. 

ORL. My fair Ro:a!ind, 1 come within an hour of my 

Ros. Break an hour's promise in love? He that will 
divide a minute into a thousand parts, and break but a 
part of the thousandth part of a minute in the affairs of 
love, it may be faid of him, that Cupid hath clap'd him 
o'the moulder, but I'll warrant him heart-whole. 

ORL. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. 

Ros. Nay, an you be fo tardy, come no more in my 
fight; I had as lief be woo'd of a fnail. 

ORL. Of a fnail? 

Ros. Ay, of a fnail; for though he comes flowly, he 

*5 thoufand 

As you like it. 67 

carries his houfe on his head; a better jointure, I think, 
than you make a woman : Befides, he brings his deftiny 
with him. 

OKI. What's that? 

Ros. Why, horns; which fuch as you are fain to be 
beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in his 
fortune, and prevents the flander of his wife. 

ORL. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is 

Ros. And I am your Rosalind. 

CEL. It pleases him to call you fo; but he hath a Ro- 
salind of a better leer than you. 

Ros. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a 
holiday humour, and like enough to confent : What 
would you fay to me now, an I were your very very Ros- 

ORL. I would kifs, before I fpoke. 

Ros. Nay, you were better fpeak firft ; and when you 
were gravel'd for lack of matter, you might take occa- 
sion to kifs. Very good orators, when they are out, they 
will fpit; and for lovers, lacking (God warn us!) mat- 
ter, the cleanliefl fhift is to kifs. 

OR i . How if the kifs be deny'd ? 

Ros. Then (he puts you to entreaty, and there be- 
gins new matter. 

ORL. Who could be out, being before his beloved 
miftrefs ? 

Ros. Marry, that fhould you, if I were your miftrefs; 
or I mould think my honefty ranker than my wit. 

ORL. What, of my fuit? 

Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your 
fait. Am not I your Rosalind? 

98 At you like it. 

ORL. I take fomejoy to fay you are, because I would 
i>e talking of her. 

Ros. Well, in her perfon, I fay I will not have you. 

ORL. Then, in mine own perfon, I die. 

Ros. No, 'faith, die by attorney. The poor world is 
almoft fix thousand years old, and in all this time there 
was not any man dy'd in his own perfon, -videlicet, in a 
love cause. Troilus had his brains dafh'd out with aG/v- 
eian club; yet he did what he could to die before} and 
lie is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have 
liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had turn'd nun, if 
it had not been for a hot midfummer night : for, good 
youth, he went but forth to wafli him in the Hellejpont, 
and, being taken with the cramp, was drown'd ; and 
the foolilh chroniclers of that age found it was Hero of 
Sejlos. But these are all lies; men have dy'd from time 
to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. 

ORL. I would not have my right Rosalind of this 
mind ; for, I proteft, her frown might kill me. 

Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly: But come, 
now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on difpo- 
sition ; and afk me what you will, I will grant it. 

ORL. Then love me, Rosalind. 

Ros. Yes, 'faith, will 1; fr days, and faturdays, and 

ORL. And wilt thou have me? 

Ros. Ay, and twenty fuch. 

ORL. What fayeft thou? 

Ros. Are you not good? 

ORL. I hope fo. 

Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good 
thing? Come, lifter, you fhall be the prieft, and mar- 

As you like it. fc^ 

ry us:__Give me your hand, Or/<2</0:_\Vhat do you 
fay, fitter? 

ORL. Pray thee, marry us. 

CEL. I cannot fay the words. 

Ros. You muft begin, Will you, Orlando, 

CEL. Go to: Will you, Orlando, have to wife this 

ORL. I will. 

Ros. Ay, but when? *> ' 

ORL. Why, now; as faft as me can marry us. 

Ros. Then you muft fay, //&? tbee, Rosalind, for 

ORL. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. 

Ros. I might afk you for your commiflion ; but, I do 
take thee, Orlando, for my husband: There's a girl goes 
before the prieft; and, certainly, a woman's thought runs 
before her adtions. 

ORL. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd. 

Ros. Now tell me, how long you would have her, 
after you have possefT'd her? 

ORL. For ever, and a day. 

Ros. Say a day, without the ever: No, no, Orlando^ 
men are April when they woo, December when they 
wed: maids are May when they are maids, but the fky 
changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous of 
thee than a Barbary cock-pidgeon over his hen ; more 
clamorous than a parrot againlt rain ; more new-fangl'd 
than an ape; more giddy in my desires than a monkey: 
I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and 
I will do that when you are difpos'd to ba merry ; I 
will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclin'd 
to fleep. 

yo As you like it. 

ORL. But will my Rosalind do fo? 

Ros. By my life, (he will do as I do. 

ORL. O, but (he is wise. 

Ros. Or elfe (he could not have the wit to do this; 
the wiser, the way warder: Make the doors fall upon a 
woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; (hut that, 
and 'twill out at the key-hole; Hop that, 'twill fly with 
the fmoke out at the chimney. 

ORL. A man that had a wife with fuch a wit, he 
might fay, Wit, whither wilt? 

Ros. Nay, you might keep that check for it, 'till you 
met your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. 

ORL. And what wit could wit have to excuse that? 

Ros. Marry, to fay, (he came to feek you there: 
you (hall never take her without her anfwer, unlefs you 
take her without her tongue. O, that woman that can- 
not make her fault her husband's occasion, let her nev- 
er nurfe her child herfelf, for fhe will breed it like a 

ORL. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. 

Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. 

ORL. I muft attend the duke at dinner; by two o'- 
clock I will be with thee again. 

Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what 
you would prove; my friends told me as much, and I 
thought no lefs: that flattering tongue of yours won me: 
'tis but one caft away; and (b, come, death: Two o'- 
clock is your hour? 

ORL. Ay, fweet Rosalind. 

Ros. By my troth, and in good earneft, and fo God 
mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not danger- 
ous, if you break one jot of your promise, or come one 

As you like it. ^, 

minute behind your hour, T will think you the moil p a - 
thetical break-promise, and the moft hollow lover, and 
the moft unworthy of her you call Rosalind) that may be 
chosen out of the grofs band of the unfaithful: there- 
fore beware my cenfure, and keep your promise. 

ORL. With no lefs religion, than if thou wert indeed 
my Rosalind: So, adieu. 

Ros. Well, time is the old juftice that examines all 
fuch offenders, and let time try: Adieu. 

' [Exit ORLANDO. 

CEL. You have limply mifus'd our fex in your love- 
prate: we muft have your doublet and hose pluck'd over 
your head, and fhew the world what the bird hath done 
to her own neft. 

Ros. O coz', coz', coz', my pretty little coz', that 
thou'didft know how many fathom deep I am in love! 
But ifc cannot be founded; my affedion hath an unknown 
bottom, like the bay of Portugal. 

CEL. Or rather, bottomlefs; that as faft as you pour 
affedlion in, it runs out. 

Ros. No, that fame wicked baftard of Venus, that 
was begot of thought, conceiv'd of fpleen, and born of 
madnefs; that blind rafcally boy, that abuses every one's 
eyes, because his own are out, let him be judge, how 
deep I am in love :_ I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be 
out of the fight of Orlando: I'll go find a fhadow, and 
figh 'till he come. 

CEL. And I'll fleep. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. The fame. 
Enter JAQUES, and Others, Forefters. 
Which is he that kill'd the deer? 

72 As you like ft. 

i . F. Sir, it was I. 

Jji3^ Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman 
conqueror; and it would do well to fet the deer's horns 
upon his head, for a branch of viftory :__Have you no 
fong, forefter, for this purpose? 
z.F. Yes, fir. 

"Jj3^ Sing it : 'tis no matter how it be in tune, fo it 
make noise enough. 


i.V. What Jh all he have, that kill' dike deer? 
2. V, His leather Jkin, and horns to wear, 
I.V. Ihenjing him borne :~~~ 


Fake tbou no J corn 
io wear the born, t$e luflg |)0jn ; 
it 'was a creft ere thou waft born:~~ 
i . V. 7 "by father 's father wore it } 
2.V. And thy father bore it : 


T'be horn, the horn, the lufty born, 
is net a thing to laugh lofcorn. [Exeunt. 

SCENE III. rhefame. 

Bos. How fay you now? Is it not paft two o'clock? 
and how much Orlando come0? 

CEL. I warrant you, with pure love, and troubl'd 
brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone 
forth to fleep: Look, who comes here? 


SIL. My errand is to you, fair youth ;~~ 
My gentle Pktbe bid me give you this : [gives a Letter* 

6 and bcere much 

As you like It. 1 3 

I know not the contents; but, as I guefs, 
By the ftern brow, and wafpifh a&ion 
Which fhe did use as fhe was writing of it, 
Jt bears an angry tenure ; pardon me, 
I am but as a guiltlefs meffenger. 

Ros. Patience herfelf would ftartle at this letter, 
And play the fwaggerer; bear this, bear all: 
She fays, I am not fair; that I lack manners; 
She calls me proud; and, that fhe could not love me 
Were man as rare as phoenix: Od's my will! 
Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: 
Why writes fhe fo to me? .Well, fhepherd, well, 
This is a letter of your own device. 

SIL. No, I proteft, I know not the contents; 
Pbebe did write it. 

Ros. Come, come, you are a fool, 
And turn'd into the extremity of love. 
I faw her hand : fhe has a leathern hand, 
A freeftone-colour'd hand ; I verily did think 
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands; 
She has a huswife's hand: but that's no matter: 
I fay, fhe never did invent this letter; 
This is a man's invention, and his hand. 

SIL. Sure, it is hers. 

Ros. Why, 'tis a boift'rous and a cruel ftile, 
A ftile for challengers; why, fhe defies me, 
Like Turk to Cbrijlian: woman's gentle brain 
Could, not drop forth fuch giant-rude invention, 
Such Ethiop words, blacker in their effeft 
Than in their countenance; Will you hear the letter? 

SIL. So please you, for I never heard it yet; 
Yet heard too much offMJt cruelty. 


74 At you like it. 

Ros. She Phebe's me: Mark how the tyrant write*. 

Art thou god to /hepberd turned, 

That a maiden's heart bath burnd? 
Can a woman rail thus ? 

SIL. Call you this railing? 

Ros. Why, thy godhead lay* d apart, 

War 1 ft thou 'with a woman's heart? 

Did you ever hear fuch railing ?_ 

Whiles the eye of man did nvoo me, 

That could do no vengeance to me 
Meaning me a beaft._ 

Ifthefcorn of your bright eyne 

Have power to raise fuch love in mine, 

Alack, in me what ftrange effect 

Would they 'work in mild aJpeSl? 

Whiles you chid me, I did love; 

HOVJ then might your prayers move? 

He, that brings this love to tbee, 

Little knoius this love in me : 

And by himfeal up thy mind; 

Whether that thy youth and kind 

Witt the faithful offer take 

Of me, and all that I can make ; 

Or eije by him my love deny, 

And then Pllftudy hew to die. 
SIL. Call you this chiding ? 
CEL. Alas, poor fhepherd ! 

Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity.__ 
Wilt riiou love fuch a woman ? What, to make thee an 
inftrument, and play falfe ftrains upon thee! not to be 
endur'd. Well, go your way to her, (for, I fee, love hath 
made thee a tame inakej and fay this to her; That, if 

As you like It. ^q 

fhe love me, I charge her to love thee: if fhe will not, 
I will never have her, unlefs thou entreat for her. If you 
be a true lover, hence, and not a word ; for here comes 
more company. \Exit SILVIUS. 

Enter OLIVER. 

OLI. Good morrow, fair ones : Pray you, if you know, 
Where, in the purlieus of this foreft, Hands 
A fheep-cote, fenc'd about with olive-trees ? [torn* 

CEL. Weft of this place, down in the neighbour bot- 
The rank of osiers, by the murmuring ftream, 
Left on your right hand, brings you to the place: 
But at this hour the houfe doth keep itfelf, 
There's none within. 

OLI. If that an eye may profit by a tongue, 
Then {hould I know you by defcription; 
Such garments, and fuch years: The boy is fair, 
Of female favour, and beftonus him/elf 
Like a ripe Jifter : but the 'woman Jo-iv, 
And browner than her brother: Are not you 
The owner of the houfe I did enquire for? 

CEL. It is no boaft, being aik'd, to fay, we are. 

OLI. Orlando doth commend him to you both; 
And to that youth, he calls his Rosalind, 
He fends this bloody napkin ; Are you he ? 

Ros. I am: What muft we underftaod by this? 

OLI. Some of my fhame; if you will know of me 
What man I am, and how, and why, and where 
This handkerchief was ftain'd. 

CEL. I pray you, tell it. 

OLI. When laft the young Orlando parted from you, 
He left a promise to return again 
Within an hour; and, pacing through the foreft, 

jb At you like it. 

Chewing the food of facet and bitter fancy, 

Lo, what bcfel! he threw his -eye afide, 

And, mark, what object did present itfelf! 

Under aa oak, whose boughs were moff'd with age, 

And high top bald with dry antiquity, 

A wretched ragged man, o'ergjown with hair, 

Lay deeping on his back : about his neck 

A green and gilded (hake had wreath'd ilfelf, 

Who with her head, nimble in threats, approach'd 

The op'ning of his moath; but fuddenly, 

Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itfelf, 

And with indented glides did flip awny 

Into a bum: under which bum's made 

A lionefs, with udders all drawn dry, 

Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch, 

When that the fleeping man mould flir; for 'tis 

The royal difposition of that beaft, 

To prey on nothing that doth feem as dead : 

This feen, Qrlandb did approach the man, 

And found it was his brother, his elder brother. 

CEL. O, I have heard him fpeak of that fame brc*- 


And he did render him the mod unnatural 
That liv'd 'movigH men. 

OLI. And well he might fo do, 
For well I know he was unnatural. 

Ros. Rut, to Orlando; Did he leave him there, 
Food to the fuck'd and hungry lionefs? 

OLT. Twice did he turn his back, and purpos'd fo: 
But kindnefs, nobler ever than revenge, 
And nature, fcronger than, his juft occasion, 
Made him give battle to the lionefs, 

4 an old Oake *+ amoneS 

& you like it* 77 

Who quickly fell before him ; in \vhich hurtling 
From miserable flumbcr I awaked. 

CEL. Are you his brother? 

Ros. Was it you he refcu'd ? 

CEL. Was't you that did fo oft contrive to kill him? 

OLI. 'Twas I; but 'tis not 1: I do not fhame 
To tell you what I was r fince my converfion 
So fweetly tafts, being the thing I am. 

JZos But, for the bloody napkin? 

OLI. By and by. 

When from the firit to laft, betwixt us two, 
Tears our recountments had moft kindly bath'd: 
As how I came into that desert place; 

In brief, he led rae to the gentle duke, 

V/ho gave me frefli array, and entertainment, 

Committing me unto my brother's love; 

Who led me inftantly unto his cave, 

There ftrip'd himfelf, and here upon his arm 

The lioneis had torn fome flem away, 

Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted, 

And cry'd, in fainting, upon Rosalind. 

Brief, I recover'd him; bound up his wound; 

And, after fome fmall fpace, being rtrong at heart, 

He fent me hither, llranger as [ am, 

To tell this ftory, that you might excuse 

His broken promise, and to give this ~J~ napkin, 

Dy'd in his blood, unto the ihepherd youth 

That he in fport doth call his Rosalind. 

CEL. Why, how now, Ganimtd? fweet Gammed? 

OLI. Many will fwoon, when they do look on blood. 

4 Was't 

V 0,3 

78 As you like it. 

CEL. There is more in it; Cousin Ganimed! 

OLI. Look, he recovers. 

Ros. I would, I were at home. 

CEL, We'll lead you thither: 
I pray you, will you take him by the arm. 

OLI. Be of good cheer, youth : You a man ? you lack 
a man's heart. 

Ros. I do fo, I confefs it. Ah, fir, a body would 
think this was well counterfeited: I pray you, tell your 
brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh ho! 

OLI. This was not counterfeit; there is too great tef- 
timony in your complexion, that it was a paffion of ear- 

Ros. Counterfeit, I afTure you. 

OLI. Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit 
to be a man. 

Ros. So I do: but, i'faith, I mould have been a wo- 
man by right. 

CEL. Come, you look paler and paler; pray you, 
draw homewards: _ Good fir, go with us. 

OLI. That will I, for I muft bear anfwer back 
How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. 

Ros. I (hall devise fcmething: but, I pray you, com- 
mend my counterfeiting to him : Will you go ? [Exeunt. 

SCENE I. Tbtfame. 
Enter Clown, and AUDRHY. 

Clo. We fhall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle 

Ah, firra, a 

As you like it. jg 

AUD. 'Faith, the prieft was good enough, for all the 
old gentleman's faying. 

Clo. A mod wicked fir Oliver, Audrey, a moft vile 
Mar-text. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the for- 
eft lays claim to you. 

AVD. Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interefl in me 
in the world: here comes the man you mean. 

Clo. It is meat and drink to me to fee a clown: By 
my troth, we that have good wits have much to anfwer 
for; we mall be flouting; we cannot hold. 

WIL. Good ev'n, Audrey. 

J$UD. God ye good ev'n, William. 

WIL. And good ev'n to you, fir. 

Clo. Good ev'n, gentle friend: Cover thy head, co- 
ver thy head; nay, pr'ythee, be cover'd. How old are 
you, friend r 

WIL. Five and twenty, fir. 

Clo. A ripe age: Is thy name, William? 

WIL . William, fir. 

Clo. A fair name : Waft born i' th' foreft here ? 

WIL. Ay, fir, I thank God. 

Clo. Thank God; A good anfwer: Art rich? 

WIL. 'Faith, fir, fo fo. 

Clo. So fo ; 'Tis good, very good, very excellent 
good: and yet it is not; it is but fo fo. Arc thou wise? 

WIL. Ay, fir, I have a pretty wit. 

Clo. Why, thou fay'ft well. I do now remember a 
faying; The fool doch think he is wise, but the wise 
man knows himfelf to be a fool. The heathen philofo- 
pher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, would open 
his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning there- 


80 Ai you like if. 

by, that grapes were made to eat, and lips to open. You 
do love this maid? 

WIL. I do, fir. 

C/o. Give me your hand : Art thou learned ? 

WIL. No, fir. 

Clo. TJien learn this of me; To have, is to have: 
For it is a figure in rhetorick, that drink, being pour'd 
out of a cup into a glafs, by filling the one doth empty 
the other : For all your writers do confent, that ipje is 
he; now you are not ipfe, for I am he. 

WIL. Which he, fir? 

Clo. He, fir, that muft marry this woman : There- 
fore, you clown, abandon, which is in the vulgar, 
leave, the fociety, which in the boorifh is, compa- 
ny, of this female, which in the common is, woman, 
which together is, abandon the fociety of this female; 
or, clown, thou perimeft; or, to thy better underftand- 
ing, dyeft; or, to wit, I kill thee, make thee away, 
translate thy life into death, thy liberty into bondage: 
I will deal in poison with thee, or in baftinado, or in 
fteel; I will bandy with thee in faftion; I will o'er-run 
thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty 
ways; therefore tremble, and depart. 

AUD. Do, good William. 

WIL. God reit you merry, fir. {Exit WILLIAM. 
Enter CORIN. 

COR. Our mailer and miilrefs feek you; come, away, 

Cio. Trip, Audrey , trip, Audrey; I attend, T attend. 


SCENE li. ^1 he fame. 
*7 feekes 

4s you like it. g, 


ORL. Is't poffible, that on fo little acquaintance you 
ftiould like her ? that, but feeing, you fhould love her ? 
and, loving, woo? and, wooing, (he fhould grant? And 
will you perfever to enjoy her? 

OLI. Neither call the giddinefs of it in queftion, the 
poverty of her, the fmall acquaintance, my fudden woo- 
**"., nor fjer fudden confenting ; but fay with me, I love 
Jliena; fay with her, that fhe loves me; confent with 
both, that we may enjoy each other: it mall be to your 
good; for my father's houfe, and all the revenue that 
was old fir Rowland's, will I eflate upon you, and here 
live and die a fliepherd. 


ORL. You have my confent. Let your wedding be 
to-morrow: thither will I invite the duke, and all his 
contented followers: Go you, and prepare Aliena; for, 
look you, here comes my Rosalind. 

Ros. God fave you, brother. 

OLI. And you, fair fitter. [Exit OLIVER. 

Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to fee 
thee wear thy heart in a fcarf. 

ORL. It is my arm. 

Ros. I thought, thy heart had been wounded with 
the claws of a lion. 

ORL. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady". 

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited 
to fwoon, when he mew'd me your handkerchief? 

ORL. Ay, and greater wonders than that. 

Ros. O, I know where you are : Nay, 'tis true : there 

was never any thing fo fudden, but the fight of two 

rams, and Casar'% thrafonical brag of 1 came, fauu, and 

z As you like it. 

overcame: For your brother and my filler no fooner met, 
but they look'd ; no fooner look'd, but they lov'd ; no 
fooner lov'd, but theyfigh'd; no fooner figh'd, but they 
aik'd one another the reason ; no fooner knew the rea- 
son, but they fought the remedy: and in these degrees 
have they made a pair of flairs to marriage, which they 
will climb incontinent, or elfe be incontinent before 
marriage : they are in the very wrath of love, and they 
will together; clubs cannot part them. 

ORL. They (hall be marry'd to-morrow ; and I will 
bid the duke to the nuptial. But, o, how bitter a thing 
it is, to look into happinefs through another man's eyes! 
By fo much the more fhall [ to-morrow be at the height 
of heart- heavinefs, by how much I mall think my bro- 
ther happy, in having what he wifties for. 

JRos. Why then, to-morrow I cannot ferve your turn 
for Rosalind? 

ORL. I can live no longer by thinking. 

Ros. I will weary you then no longer with idle talk- 
ing. Know of me then, (for now I fpeak to fome pur- 
nse) that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit : 
peak not this, that you mould bear a good opinion of 
my knowledge, infomuch, I fay, I know you are; nei- 
ther do 1 labour for a greater efteem than may in fome 
little measure draw a belief from you, to do yourfelf 
good, and not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, 
that I can do ftrange things : 1 have, fince I was three 
year old, converf'd with a magician, moft profound in 
his art, and yet not damnable: If you do love Rosalind, 
fo near the heart as your gefture cries it out, when your 
brother marries Aliena, fhall you marry her: I know in- 
to what flraights of fortune Ihe is driven ; and it is not 

As you like it. g j 

impofiible to me, if it appear not inconvenient to you, 
to fet her before your eyes to-morrow, human as me is, 
and without any danger. 

ORL. Speak'ft thou in fober meanings? 

Ros. By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, tho- 
ugh I fay I am a magician : Therefore put you in your 
beft array, bid your friends; for if you will be marry'd 
to-morrow, you mall ; and to Rosalind, if you will. Look, 
here comes a lover of mine, and a lover of hers. 
Enter SILVIUS, and PHEBE. 

PHE. Youth, you have done me much ungentlenefs, 
To mew the letter that I writ to you. 

Ros. I care not, if I have : it is my ftudy, 
To feem defpiteful and ungentle to you: 
You are there follow'd by a faithful (hepherd ; 
Look upon him, love him; he vvorfliips you. 

PBE. Good {hepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. 

SIL. It is to be all made of fighs and tears; 
And fo am I for Phebe: 

PHE. And I iorGanimed: 

ORL. And 1 for Rofalind: 

Ros. And I for no woman. 

SIL. It is to be all made of faith and fervice;_ 
And fo am [ for Phebe; 

PBE. And I for Ganimed: 

ORL. And 1 for Rosalind: 

Ros. And I for no woman. 

SIL. It is to be all made of fantafy, 
All made of paffion, and all made of wifhes ; 
All adoration, duty, and observance, 
All humblenefs, all patience, and impatience, 
All purity, all trial, all observance}-. 

84 Asyott like tt. 

And fo am I for Phele: 

PHE. And fo am I for Ganimed: 

OKI. And fo am I for Rosalind: 

Ros. And fo am I for no woman. 

PHE. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you ? 

[to Ros. 

SIL. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you? 


ORL. If this be fo, why blame you me to love you? 

Ros. Who do you fpeak to, <why blame you me to love 

ORL. To her, that is not here, nor doth not hear. 

Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howl- 
Ing oflrijb wolves againft the moon. _ I will help you, 
[to Sil.j if I can:_I would love you, [to Phe.] if I 
could To-morrow meet me all together. I will marry 
you, [fo Phe.] if ever I marry woman, and I'll be mar- 
ry'd to-morrow :_I will fatiffy you, [to Orl.] if ever I 

fatiffy'd man, and you fhall be marry'd to-morrow : I 

will content you, [to Sil.] if what pleases you contents 
you, and you fhall be marry'd to-morrow As you [to 
Orl.] love Rosalind, meet ;_ As you [to Sil.] love ?Me, 
meet; And as I love no woman, I'll meet. So fare you 
well; I have left you commands, 
. SIL. I'll not fail, if I live. 

PHE. Nor I. 

ORL. Nor I. [Exeunf . 

SCENE III. The Same. 
Enter Clown, and AUDREY. 

Clo. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey, to mor- 
row will we be marry'd. 

10 why do you fyeake too, 16 altogether 

As you like it* g - 

AUD . I do desire it with all my heart : and I hope it 
is no difhoneft desire, to desire to be a woman of the 
world. Here come two of the banifli'd duke's pages. 
Enter t<wo Pages. 

1. P. Well met, honeft gentleman. 

Clo. By my troth, well met : Come, fit, fit, and a 

2. P. We are for you} fit i'the middle. 

1 . P. Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking, 
or {pitting, or faying we are hoarfe; which are the only 
prologues to a bad voice ? 

2. P. Ffaith, i'faith ; and both in a tune, like two 
gipfies on a horfe. 


I. St. 

// was a lover, and his lafs t 

with a hey, and a ho, 

and a hey nonino, 
that o'er the green corn-field did pafs 

in the fpring time, 

the pretty fpring time, 

when birds do fing 

hey ding a ding, ding; 
fweet lovers love the fpring. 

II. St. 
Between the acres of the rye, 

with a hey, and a ho, &c. 
these pretty country folks would lye 
in the fpring time, &c. 

III. St. 

The carol they began that hour, 
with a hey, and a ho, &c. 

*' the cne'y pretty rang time, Ji v. fftte. 

SS As jou like it. 

b<mv that a life nvas but a flower 
in the fpring time, &c. 

IV. St. 
And therefore take the present time, 

with a hey, and a ho, c. 
Tor love is crowned 'with the prime 

in the fpring time, &c. 

Clo. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no 
great matter in the ditty, yet the note was very untune- 

i. P. You are deceiv'd, fir; we kept time, we loft 
not our time. 

Clo. By my troth, yes; I count it but time loft to 
hear fuch a foolifti fong. God be wi'you ; and God mend 
your voices. Come, Audrey. [Exeunt. 

SCENE IV. The fame. 
Enter T) \lkefenior, and his Followers, ORLANDO, 

JAQJJES, Oliver, and Celia. 
D.f. Doft thou believe, Orlando, that the boy 
Can do all this that he hath promised ? 

ORL. I fometimes do believe, and fometimes do not; 
As those that fear their hope, and know their fear. 

Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compaft is 


You fay, if I bring in your Rosalind, 
You will bellow her on Orlando here? 

D.f. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. 
Ros. And you fay, you will have her, when I bring 

*> feare they hope, and know they feare. 

A? you like it. g- 

ORL, That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. 

Ros. You fay, you'll marry me, if I be willing ? 

Pas. That will I, fhould I die the hour after. 

Ros. But, if you do refuse to marry me, 
You'll give yourfelf to this moll faithful fhepherd? 

PHE. So is the bargain. 

Ros, You fay, that you'll have Pbebe, if me will ? 

SIL. Though to have her and death were both one 

Ros. I have promis'd to make all this matter even. 
Keep you your word, o duke, to give your daughter j__ 

You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: 

Keep your word, Pbebe, that you'll marry me; 

Or elfe, refufing me, to wed this fhepherd: 

Keep your word, Sil-vius, that you'll marry her, 
If me refuse me:_and from hence I go, 
To make these doubts all even. 

[Exeunt ROSALIND, and Celia. 

D.f. I do remember in this fhepherd-boy 
Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. 

ORL. My lord, the firft time that I ever faw him, 
Methought, he was a brother to your daughter: 
But, my good lord, this boy is foreft born; 
And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments 
Of many defperate fludies by his uncle, 
Whom he reports to be a great magician, 
Obfcured in the circle of this foreft. 

Enter Clown, and Audrey. 

JjQ^, There is, fure, another flood toward, and these 
couples are coming to the ark ! Here comes a pair of 
very ftrange beads, which in all tongues are call'd fool*. 

Clo. Salutation and greeting to you all. 

*} Keepc you your 

As you like it. 

Good my lord, bid him welcome: This 13 the 
motley-minded gentleman, that I have fo often metMn 
the foreft: he hath been a courtier, he fwears. 

C/o. If any man doubt that, let him put me to my 
purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flatter'd a la- 
dy; I have been politick with my friend, fmooth with 
mine enemy; 1 have undone three tailors; I have had 
four quarrels, and like to have fought one. 

Jjt^, And how was that ta'en up? 

Clo. 'Faith, we met; and found, the quarrel was up- 
on the feventh cause. 

Jj%^ How feventh cause ?_Good my lord, like this 

D.f. I like him very well. 

Clo. God'ild you, fir; I desire you of the like. I 
prefs in here, fir, amongft the reft of the country copu- 
latives, to fwear, and to forfwear; according as marri- 
age binds, and blood breaks: A poor virgin, fir, an ill- 
favour'd thing, fir, but mine own; a poor humour of 
mine, fir, to take that that no man elfe will: Rich ho- 
nefty dwells like a mifer, fir, in a poor houfe; as your 
pearl, in your foul oifter. 

D.f- By my faith, he is very fwift and fententious. 

Clo. According to the fool's bolt, fir, and fuch d ul- 
cer diseases. 

y^^ But, for the feventh cause; how did you find 
the quarrel upon the feventh cause ? 

Clo. Upon a lie feven times removed: Bear your 

body more feeming, Audrey: as thus, fir. I did diilike 

the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he fent me word, 
if I faid his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind 
it was: this is call'd, The retort courteous. If I fcnt 

As you like it. g 

him word again, it was not well cut, he would fend me 
\vord, he cut it to please himfelf : this is call'd, The 
quip modeft. If again, it was not well cut, he difabl'd 
my judgment: this is call'd, The reply churlifli. If a- 
gain, it was not well cut, he would anfwer, I fpake not 
true: this is call'd, The reproof valiant. If again, it was 
not well cut, he would fay, I ly'd : this is call'd, The 
counter-check q uarrelfome : and fo to The lie circumftan- 
tial, and The lie direft. 

JAS^ And how oft did you fay, his beard was not 
well cut? 

Clo. I durft go no further than the lie circumftan- 
tial, nor he durft not give me the lie dired; and fo we 
measur'd fwords, and parted. 

Jjl^ Can you nominate in order now the degrees of 
the He? 

Clo. O fir, we quarrel in print, by the bcrok; as you 
have books for good manners: I will name you the de- 
grees. The firft, the retort courteous; the fecond, the 
quip modeft; the third, the reply churlifh; the fourth, 
the reproof valiant; the fifth, the counter-check quar- 
relfome ; the fixth, the lie with circumftance ; the feventh, 
the lie direft. All these you may avoid, but the lie di- 
rect ; and you may avoid that too, with an If. I knew 
when feven juftices could not take up a quarrel; but 
when the parties were met themfelves, one of them 
thought but of an If, as, if you /aid fo, then Ifaidfo, and 
they fhook hands, and fwore brothers. Your If is the 
only peace-maker; much virtue in If. 

Jj%^ Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good 
at any thing, and yet a fool. 

D.f. He uses his folly like a ftalking-horfe,and un- 

7 I lie* 
VOL. Til. K 

jo ds you like it. 

der the presentation of that he (hoots his wit. 

Re-enter ROSALIND, and Celia, in their 
proper Dre/s ; Ros. led by a Perfon presenting HYMEN. 

Still Musick. 

HrM. Then is there mirth in heaven, 
when earthly things made even 

atone together 

Good duke, receive thy daughter, 
Hymenyro/H heaven Brought her, 

yea, brought her hither; 
that thou might* ft join her band with his, 
whose heart within his bosom is. 

Ros. To you I givemyfelf, [toD. f.] for I am yours 
To you I give myfelf, [to Orl.] for I am yours. 

D.f. If there be truth in fight, you are my daughter. 
ORL. If there be truth in fight, you are my Rosalind. 
PBE. If fight and fhape be true, 

Why then, my love adieu! 
Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he :_ 
I'll have no husband, if you be not he:_ 
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not (he. 
HrM . Peace, ho ! I bar confusion : 
'Tis I muft make conclusion 

Of these mod ftrange events: 
Here's eight that mult take hands, 
To join in Hymen's bands, 

If truth holds true contents. 
You and you [to Orl. and Ros.] no crofs (hall part; 

You and you [to Qli.and Cel.] are heart in heart : 

You [to Phe.] to his love muft accord, 

Or have a woman to your lord : 

You and you [to Clo. and Aud.] are fure together, 

if ioyne his hand 

As you likt it. gi 

As the winter and foul weather. 
Whiles a wedlock hymn we fing, 
Feed yourfelves with queftioning; 
That reason wonder may diminifti, 
How thus we met, and these things finifh. 

Wedding is great JunoV crown ; 

O blt/ed bond of board and bed! 
'tis Hymen peoples every town ; 

high 'wedlock then be honoured: 
Honour, high honour and renoiun, 
to Hymen, god of every town! 

D.f. O my dear niece, [to Cel . ] welcome tho u art to me ; 
Even daughter, welcome in no lefs degree. [mine ; 
PHE. I will not eat my word, [to Sil.] now thou art 
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. 

Enter Jaques de BOYS. 

de B. Let me have audience for a word, or two. 
I am the fecond fon of old fir Rowland, 
That bring these tidings to this fair aflembly :* 
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day 
Men of great worth resorted to this foreft, 
AddrefT'd a mighty power; which were on foot, 
In his own conduct, purposely to take 
His brother here, and put him to the fword: 
And to the fkirts of this wild wood he came; 
Where, meeting with an old religious man, 
After fome queftion with him, was converted 
Both from his enterprize, and from the world: 
His crown bequeathing to his banifh'd brother, 
And all their lands reftor'd to them again 
That were with him exil'd : This to be true, 

3 ' to him againe 

g 2 As you like it* 

I do engage my life. 

D.f. Welcome, young man; 
Thou offer'ft fairly to thy brothers' wedding: 
To one, his lands withheld; and to the other, 
A land itfelf at large, a potent dukedom. 
Firft, in this foreft, let us do those ends 
That here were well begun, and well begot: 
And after, every of this happy number, 
That have endur*d fhrewd days and nights with us, 
Shall mare the good of our returned fortune, 
According to the measure of their flates. 
Meantime, forget this new-fain dignity, 

And fall into our ruftick revelry: 

Play, musick; and you brides and bridegrooms all, 

With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. 

JjQ^ Sir, by your patience : If f heard you rightly, 

The duke hath put on a religious life, 

And thrown into neglect the pompous court? 

deB. He hath. 

JAQ To him will I: out of these convgrtites 
There is much matter to be heard, and Jearn'd 
You [to D. f.] to your former honour I bequeath; 
Your patience, and your virtue, well deserves 5t:_ 
You [to Orl.} to a love that your true faith doth merit:_ 
You [to OH.] to your land, and love, and great allies:_ 

You [to Sil.j to a long and well deserved bed; 

And you [to Clo.j to wrangling; for thy loving voyage 

Is but for two months viftual'd: So to your pleasures; 

I am for other than for dancing measures. 

D.f. Stay, Jaques, flay. 

Jj^ To fee no paftime, I : what you would have 
I'll flay to know at your abandon'd cave. [Exi/. 

As you like it. g j 

D.f. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, 
As we do truft they'll end, in true delights. 


Ros. It is not the fafhion to fee the lady the epi- 
logue: but it is no more unhandfome, than to fee the 
lord the prologue. If it be true, that good wine needs 
no bufh, 'tis true, that a good play needs no epilogue : 
Yet to good wine they do use good buflies; and good 
plays prove the better by the help of good epilogues. 
What a cafe am I in the;i, that am. neither a good epi- 
logue, nor cannot infmuate with you in the behalf of a 
good play? I am not furnifh'd like a beggar; therefore 
to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; 
and I'll begin with the women. I charge you, o women, 
for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this 
play as pleases them ; and I charge you, o men, for the 
love you bear to women, (as I perceive by your fimper- 
ing, none of you hates them) to li&e aa mucl> aa pleaaea 
tljcm ; that, between you and the women, the play may 
please. If I were a woman, I would kifs as many of 
you as had beards that pleas'd me, complexions that 
lik'd me, and breaths that I defy'd not: and, I am fure, 
as many as have good beards, or good faces, or fweet 
breaths, will, for my kind offer, when I make cur'fy, 
bid me farewel. [Exeunt. 

7 pleafe you: 


of the 

S H R E W. 

R 4 

Per/btts represented. 


Sly, a drunken Tinker : 

a Lord; his Page; \-P erfom in the Indu^n. 

two Huntsmen; four Servants', ' J 
A Playir; Hojiefs ; Tapjier 

Baptifta, a Paduan Gentleman. 
Vincentio, a rich Merchant ofPlfa. 
Gremio, an old Gentleman, Suitor to Bianca : 
Hortenfio, his Rival, marry 1 d afterwards to the Widow 
Lucentio, Son to Vincentio: 
Tranio, and Biondello, his Servants. 
Petruchio, a country Gentleman, Suitor to Catherine : 
Grumio, and Curtis, his Servants: 
Jive other Servants, a Pedant; Taylor; 
Kaberdajber; Servant to Bajptifta. 

-Widow, Miftrefs to Hortenfio. 

Other Attendants, Guejls, Players, &C. 

Scene , fame times in Padua ;fometimes at 
PetruchioV Country <-Huufe. 

TIMING of the SHR 


SCENE I. A Hedge- Alehoufe. 

SLY upon a Bench before zV; Holtefs 

Jianding by him. 

Sir. I'll pheeze you, in faith. 

Hof. A pair of flocks, you rogue. 

SLT. Y'are a baggage ; the Slies are no rogues : Look 
in the chronicles; we came in with Richard conqueror. 
Therefore, paucas pallabrii; let the world flide : SeJ/a! 

Hof. You will not pay for the glafles you have burft ? 

Str. No, not a deniere: Go by, Jeronimy; Go to 
thy cold bed, and warm thee. 

Hof. I know my remedy, I muft go fetch the third- 
borough. [Exit. 

Sir. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll anfwer 
him by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy; let him come, 
and kindly;- [fails from of his Bench, andjleefs. 


Enter a Lord, from hunting; Huntsmen, 
and Servants, tuiih him. 

9 the Head- borough 

4 . The Taming of tbt Shrew. 

Lor. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hoo- 
Lecch Merriman, the poor cur is imboft, [nds: 

And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach. 
Saw'ft thou not, boy, how Silver made it good 
At the hedge-corner, in the coldeft fault? 
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. 

1. H. Why, Behnan is as good as he, my lord; 
He cry'd upon it at the meereft lofs, 

And twice to-day pick'd out the dulleft fcent: 
Truft me, I take him for the better dog. 

Lor. Thou art a fool; if Eccho were as fleet, 
I would efteeni him worth a dozen fuch. 
But fup them well, and look unto them all; 
To-morrow I intend to hunt again. 

i.H. I will, my lord. 

Lor. What's here ? one dead, or drunk ? See, doth he 

2. H. He breaths, my lord : Were he not warm'd with 

This were a bed but cold to fleep fo foundly. 

Lor. O monftrous beaft; how like a fwine he lies! 
Grim death, how foul and loathfome is thine image! 
Sirs, I will pra&ife on this drunken man : 
What think you, if he were convey'd to bed, 
Wrap'd in fweet cloaths, rings put upon his fingers, 
A moft delicious banquet by his bed, 
And brave attendants near him when he wakes, 
Would not the beggar then forget himfelf? 

i.H. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose. 

2. H. It would feem ftrange unto him when he wak'd. 

Lor. Even as a flattering dream, or worth lefs fancy. 
Then take him up, and manage well the jeft; 

* Brach Merima* 

The Taming of she Shrew. 5 

Carry him gently to my faireft chamber, 

And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: 

Balm his foul head in warm diftilled waters, 

And burn fweet wood to make the lodging fweet: 

Procure me musick ready when he wakes, 

To make a dulcet and a heavenly found; 

And if he chance to fpeak, be ready itraight, 

And, with a low fubmiflive reverence, 

Say, What is it your honour will command? 

Let one attend him with a filver bafon, 

Full of rose-water, and beftrew'd with flowers; 

Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, 

And fay, Will't please your lordihip cool your hands? 

Some one be ready with a coftly fuit, 

And afk him what apparel he will wear; 

Another tell him of his hounds and horfe, 

And that his lady mourns at his disease: 

Perfuade him, that he hath been lunatick; 

And, when he fays he's pooj, fay that he dreams. 

For he is nothing but a mighty lord. 

This do, and do it kindly, gentle firs; 

It will be paftime pafling excellent, 

If it be husbanded with modefty. 

i. H. My lord, I warrant you, we will play our part, 
As he mail think, by our true diligence, 
He is no lefs than what we fay he is. 

Lor Take him up gently, and to bed with him; 
And each one to his office, when he wakes. _ 

[Exeunt Some nuitb SLY. Trumpet beard. 
Sirrah, go fee what trumpet 't's that founds :_ 

[Exit Servant. 
Belike, fome noble gentleman; that means, 

6 The Taming of the Shrew. 

Travelling feme journey, to repose him here._ 

Re-enter Servanc. 
How now? who is't? 

Ser. An't please your honour, players, 
That come to offer fervice to your lordfhip. 

Lor. Bid them come near._ 

Enter certain Players. 
Now, fellows, you are welcome. 

Pla. We thank your honour. 

Lor. Do you intend to (lay with me to-night? 

z. P. So please your lordfhip to accept our duty. 

Lor. With all my heart. This fellow I remember, 

Since once he p'ay'd a farmer's eldeft fon; 

'Twas where you wco'd the gentlewoman fo well: 
I have forget your name; but, fure, that part 
Was aptly fitted, and naturally perform'd. 

i. P. I think, 'twas Sato that your honour means. 

Lor. 'Tis very true; thou diaft it excellent 

Well, you are come to me in happy time; 
The rather for I have fome fport in hand, 
Wherein your cunning can aflht me much. 
There is a lord will hear you play to-night: 
But I am doubtful of your modefties; 
Left, over-eying of his odd behaviour, 
(For yet his honour never heard a play) 
You break into fome merry paflion, 
And fo offend him ; for I tell you, firs, 
If you mould fmile, he grows impatient. 

i. P. Fear not, my lord ; we can contain ourfelves, 
Were he the verieft antick in the world. 

Lor, Go, firrah, take them to the buttery, 
And give them friendly welcome every one; 

be Taming of the Shrew. j 

Let them want nothing that my houfe affords. _ 

[Exeunt Servant, and Players. 
Sirrah, go you to Bartholomew my page, 

[to another Servant* 

And fee him drefT'd in all fuits like a lady: 
That done, conduft him to the drunkard's chamber, 
And call him madam, do him all obeifance. 
Tell him from me, as he will win my love, 
He bear himfelf with honourable adion ; 
Such as he hath observ'd in noble ladies 
Unto their lords, by them accomplithed : 
Such duty to the drunkard let him do, 
With foft low tongue, and lowly courtefy; 
And fay, What is't your honour will command, 
Wherein your lady, and your humble wife, 
May fhew her duty, and make known her love ? 
And then with kind embracements, tempting kifles, 
And with declining head into his bosom, 
Bid him fned tears, as being over-joy'd 
To fee her noble lord reftor'd to health, 
Who for this feven years hath efleemed him 
No better than a poor and loathfome beggar: 
And if the boy have not a woman's gift, 
To rain a {hower of commanded tears, 
An onion will do well for fuch a fhift; 
Which in a napkin being clofe convey'd, 
Shall in defpight enforce a wat'ry eye. 
See this difpatch'd with all the hal>e thou canft; 
Anon I'll give thee more in!tru<5lions._ [Exit Serv. 
I know, the boy will well usurp the grace, 
Voice, gait, and aftion of a gentlewoman: 
I Ion? to hear him call the drunkard, husband; 

8 We Taming of tie Shrew. 

And how my men will flay themfelves from laughter, 

When they do homage to this fimple peasant. 

I'll in to counfel them : haply, my presence 

May well abate the over-merry fpleen, 

Which otherwise would grow into extreams. [Exeunt. 

SCENE II. 4 Jlately Room in the Lord's Houfe: 

Jn it a Stage, and other Appurtenances, for the Play : 

and, in another Part, a Bed; SLY, in a rich Night -drefs t 

Jit ting on it;furroitndedby Servants, bearing dpparel, So/on, 

Ewer, c. a Side-board being by. Enter, at lower 

End, /^rLord, himfelf habited like a 

Szr. For God's fake, a pot of fmall ale. 

1 . S. Will't please your lordfhip drink a cup of facie r 

2. 5. Will't please your honour tafte of these con- 

ferves ? 

3. S. What raiment will your honour wear to-day? 
Sir. I am Chriftophero Sfy; call nofme honour, nor 

lordfhip: I ne'er drank fack in my life; and if you give 
me a"ny conferves, give me conferves of beef: Ne'er afk 
me, what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets 
than backs, no more ftockings than legs, nor no more 
fhoes than feet; nay, fometimes more feet than fhoes, or 
fuch {hoes as my toes look through the over-leather. 

Lor. Heaven ceafe this idle humour in your honour! 
O, that a mighty man, of fuch defcent, 
Of fuch posseffions, and fo high efteem, 
Should be infused with fo foul a fpirit! 

Sir. What, would you make me mad? Am not I 
ChriJJopher Sly, old S/y's fon of Burton heath; by birth' 
a pedlar, by education a card -maker, by tranfrr.utation 

The Taming of tbe Shrew. q 

a bear-herd, and now by present profeffion a tinker? 
Aflc Marrian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if (her 
know me not : if fhe fay I am not fourteen pence on the 
fcore for fheer ale, fcore me up for the lying'lt knave in 
chriftendom. What, I am not beftraught: Here's 

3. S. O, this it is that makes your lady mourn. 

2. S. O, this is it that makes your fervants droop. 

Lor. Hence comes it that your kindred fhun your 


As beaten hence by your ftrange lunacy. 
O, noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth; 
Call home thy ancient thoughts from banifliment, 
And banim hence these abjecl lowly dreams: 
Look, how thy fervants do attend on thee, 
Each in his office ready at thy beck. 
Wilt thou have musickr hark ! Apollo plays, 

[Mustek beard within. 
And twenty caged nightingales do fmg: 
Or wilt thou fleepr we'll have thee to a couch, 
Softer and fweeter than the luftful bed 
On purpose trim'd up for Semiramis. 
Say, thou wilt walk; we will beftrow the ground: 
Or wilt thou rider thy horfes (hall be trap'd, 
Their harnefs ftudded all with gold and pearl. 
Doft thou love hawking? thou haft hawks, will {bar 
Above the morning lark: Or wilt thou hunt? 
Thy hounds mail make the welkin anfwer them, 
And fetch fhrill echoes from the hollow earth. 

i.S. Say, thou wilt courfe ; thy greyhounds are as 

As breathed ftags, ay, fleeter than the roe. [ a 'ght 

2. S. Doit thou love pictures? we will fetch theelb*- 

8 fliuns 

IO The Tamir.g of the Shre<w. 

Admit, painted by a running brook; 

And Citherea all in fedges hid; 

Which feem to move and wanton with her breath, 

Even as the waving fedges play with wind. 

Lcr. We'll (hew thee lo, as fhe was a maid 3 
And how fhe was beguiled and furpriz'd, 
As lively painted as the deed was done. 

3. S. Or Daphne, roaming through a thorny wood j 
Scratching her legs, that one (hall fwcar fhe bleeds: 
And at that fight (hall fad Apollo weep, 
So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn. 

Lor. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord : 
Thou haft a lady far more beautiful 
Than any woman in this waining age. 

1. S. And 'till the tears, that fhe hath fried for thee, 
Like envious floods, o'er-run her lovely face, 

She was the faireft creature in the world; 
And yet fhe is inferior to none. 

Sir. Am I a lord? and have I fuch a lady? 
Or do I dream ? or have 1 dream'd 'till now ? 
J do not fleep: I fee, I hear, I fpeak ; 
J fmell fweet favours, and 1 feel foft things: 
Upon my life, I am a lord indeed; 
And not a tinker, nor Chrijiophuo S!\ 
Well, bring our lady hi'.her to our fight; 
And once again a pot o' the fmalleft ale 

2. S. Will't please your mightinefs to wafh ynur 

hands? [presenting the L ivcr, &E. 

O, how we joy to fee your wit reftor'd! 
O, that once mere you knew but what you are! 
These fifteen years you have been in a dream; 
Or, when you wak'd, fo v.ak'd as if you flept. 

The Taming of the Shrew. II 

Sir. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap. 
But did t never fpeak of all that time? 

1.5. O, yes, my lord; but very idle words: ' 
For though you lay here in this goodly chamber, 
Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door; 
And rail upon the hoftefs of the houfe; 
And fay, you would present her at the bet, 
Because (he brought ftone jugs, and no feal'd quarts. 
Sometimes, you would call out for Cicely Hacket: 
Str. Ay, the woman's maid of the houfe. 
3. S. Why, fir, you know no houfe, nor no fuch maid; 
Nor no fuch men as you have reckon'd up, 1 
As Stephen Sty, and old John Naps of Greece, 
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernel; 
And twenty more fuch names and men as these, 
Which never were, nor no man ever faw. 

SLT. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends! 

all. Amen. 

Sir. 1 thank thee; thou malt not lose by it. 

Enter Page as a Lady, attended, 
Pag. How fares my noble lord? 
Sty. Marry, I fare well ; 
For here is cheer enough. Where is my wife? 

Pag. Here, noble lord; What is thy will with her? 
Sir. Are you my wife, and will not call me~ hus- 
band ? 
My men mould call me lord, I am your good-man. 

Pag. My husband and my lord, my lord and husband, 
I am your wife in all obedience. 

Sir. I know it well: What mufl I call her? 

Lor. Madam. 

Sir. AFce madam, or Joan madam? 


J* The laming of the Shrew, 

Lor. Madam, and nothing elfe; fo lords call ladies. 
Sir. Madam wife, they fay, that 1 have dream'd 
And flept about fome fifteen year or more. 

Pag. Ay, and the time feems thirty unto me; 
Being all this time abandon'd from your bed. 

Sir. 'Tis much ;_Servants, leave me and heralone:_ 
Madam, undrefs you, and come now to bed. 

Pag. Thrice noble lord, let me entreat of you, 
To pardon me yet for a night or two; 
Or, if not fo, until the fun be fet: 
For your physicians have exprefly charg'd, 
On peril to incur your former malady, 
That I fhculd yet abfent me from your bed: 
I hope, this reason {lands for my excufe. 

Sir. Ay, it {lands fo, that I may hardly tarry fo long. 
But 1 would be loth to fall into my dreams again; f 
will therefore tarry, in defpight of the flefli and the 

Enter another Servant. 

4-5. Your honour's players, hearing your amend- 

Are come to play a pleasant comedy, 
For fo your doctors hold it very meet; 
Seeing too much fadnefs hath congeal'd your blood, 
And melancholy is the nurfe of frenzy, 
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play, 
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, 
Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life. 
Sir. Marry, I will let them play't _Is not a com- 

A chriftmas gambol, or a tumbling trick ? 

Pag. No, my good lord; it is more pleasing fluff. 

5 above fome >* In perill 9 p'ay, it is 

1'be Taming of the Shrew. 13 

Sir. What houftiold fluff? 

Pag. It is a kind of hiftory. [fide, 

SLY, Well, we'll fee't : Come, madam wife, fit by my 
And let the world flip; we mail ne'er be younger. 

\_Jeating her for the Play* 


SCENE I. Padua. ApuWck Place. 

Luc. Tronic, fince for the great desire I had 
To fee fair Padua, nurfery of arts, 
1 am arriv'd in fruitful Lombardy, 
The pleasant garden of great Italy; 
And, by my father's love and leave, am arm'd 
With his good will, and thy good company, 
My trufty fervant, well approv'd in all; 
Here let us breath, and happ'ly inftitute 
A courfe of learning and ingenious itudies. 
Pi/a, renowned for grave citizens, 
Gave me my being ; and my father firft, 
A merchant of great traffick through the world, 
Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii. 
Lucentio his fon, brought up in Florence, 
It mall become, to ferve all hopes conceiv'd, 
To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds; 
And therefore, Tranio, for the time I ftudy, 
Virtue, and that part of philofophy 
Will I apply, that treats of happinefs 
By virtue Specially to be atchiev'd. 
Tell me thy mind : for I have Pi/a left, 

* 4- arriv'd for fruit * 5 Vir, ctntlf s *4 Fi:/f;Vs funne 


14 The Taming of the Shrew. 

And am to Padua come; as he that leaves 
A mallow plam, to plunge him in the deep, 
And with fatiety feeks to quench his thirft. 

TRA. Mi perdonate, gentle mailer mine, 
I am in all affecled as yourfelf; 
Glad that you thus continue your resolve, 
To fuck the fweets of fweet philofophy. 
Only, good mailer, while we do admire 
This virtue, and this moral difcipline, 
Let's be no ftoicks, nor no flocks, I pray; 
Or fo devote to Arijlotlis checks, 
As Ovid be an outcaft quite abjur'd: 
Talk logick with acquaintance that you have, 
And praftife rhetorick in your common talk; 
Musick, and poefy, use to quicken you ; 
The mathematicks, and the metaphysicks, 
Fall to them as you find your flomack ferves you: 
No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en; 
In brief, fir, ftudy what you moft affeft. 

Lvc. Gramercies, Tranio, well doft thou advise. 
If, Biondello, thou wert come afliore, 
We could at once put us in readinefs; 
And take a lodging, fit to entertain 
Such friends as time in Padua fhall beget- 
But (lay a while; What company is this? 

TRA. Matter, fome mow, to welcome us to town. 

Enter, at a Diftance, BAPTISTA ; 

CATHERINE, aat/BiANCA, bis Daughters ; GREMIO, 

aWHoRTENSio, Suitors to Bianca. 

BAP. Gentlemen bo$, importune me no farther, 
For how I firmly am resolv'd you know; 
That is, not to beftow my youngefl daughter, 

4 Mt pardor.ato '? Balke 

The Taming of the Shrew. I c 

Before I have a husband for the elder: 
If either of you both love Catberina, 
Because I know you well, and love you well, 
Leave fhall you have to court her at your pleasure. 

G*. To cart her rather: She's too rough for me;_ 
There, there, Horlenjio, will you any wife > 

CAT. I pray you, fir, [to Bap.] is it your will antl plea 

To make a ftale of me amongft these mates ? 

HOR. Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates 

for you, 
Unlefs you were of gentler milder mold. 

CAT. 1'faith, fir, you fhall never need to fear; 
I wis, it is not halfway to her heart: 
But, if it were, doubt not, her care fhould be, 
To comb your noddle with a three-leg'd flool, , 
And paint your face, and use you like a fool. 

HOR. From all fuch devils, good Lord, deliver us! 
GR. And roe too, good Lord ! [ward;" 

TRA. " Hufli, mailer! here is fome good paitime to- 
' That wench is ftark mad, or wonderful froward." 

Luc. " But in the other's filence do I fee" 
" Maid's mild behaviour and fobriety." 
" Peace, Tranio." [fill." 

TRA. " C<SJf;j>, well faid, matter; mum, and gaze your 
BAP. CSfaU, gentlemen, that I may foon make good 
What I have lzid, Bianca, get you in: 
And let it not difplease thee, good Bianco ; 
For I will love thee ne'er the lefs, my girl. 

CAT. A pretty peat ! 'tis belt, 
Put finger in the eye, an me knew why. 
BIA. Sifter, content you in my difcontent 


i6 The Taming of the Shrew. 

Sir, to your pleasure humbly I fubfcribe: 

My books, and inilruments, fliall be my company; 

On them to look, and pradife by myfelf. [ak." 

Luc. " Hark, 7 ranio! thou may'ft hear Minerva fpe- 

HOR. Signior Baptifta, will you be fo ftrange? 
Sorry am J, that our good will effecls 
Hianca's grief. 

GRE. Why, will you mew her up, 
Signior Baptifta, for this fiend of hell, 
And make her bear the penance of her tongue? 

BAP. Content ye, gentlemen; I am resojv'd: 

Go in, Bianco. '[Exit BIACCA, 

And for I know fhe taketh moft delight 
Jn musick, inftruments, and poetry, 
Schpolmafters will I keep within my houfe, 

Fit to inftruft her youth: If you, tiortenjio, 

Or, fignior Grerxio, you, know any fuch, 

Prefer them hither; ior to cunning men 
I will be very kind, ar.d liberal 
To mine own children in good bringing-up; 
And fo farewel Catherine, you may ilay; 
For 1 have more to commune with Bianca. 

[Exit BA PTIST A. 

CAT. Why, and, I truft, I may go too, May 1 nocr 
What, lhall i be appointed hours; as though, belike, 
I knew not what to take, and what to leave ? hai 


GRE. Yon may go to the devil's dam; your gifts are 
fo good, here's none will hold you Their iove is not 
fo great, Hortenfo, but \ve may blow our nails together, 
and fait it fairly cut; our cake's doup;h on both fides. 
Farewel: Yet, for the love 1 bear my l\veet Eiancu, it 

" Ger.tlemen crntaot ye 

7'fjt Taming of the Sbre-v. \j 

I -can by any means light on a fit man, to teach her that 
wherein (he delights, I will wifh him to her father. 

HOR. So will 1, fignior Gremio : But a word, I pray. 
Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brook'd 
parly, Know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, 
that we may yet again have accefs to our fair miftrefs, 
and be happy rivals in Bianca's love, to labour and 
effedl one thing 'fpecially. 

GRE. What's that, I pray? 

HOR. Marry, fir, to get a husband for her fitter. 

GR. A husband! a devil. 

HOR. I fay, a husband. 

GXE. I fay, a devil : Think'ft thou, Horienjio, though 
her father be very rich, any man is fo very a fool to be 
marry'd to hell? 

HOR. Turn, Gremio! though it pafs your patience, 
and mine, to endure her loud alarums, why, man, 
there be good fellows in the world, an a man could 
light on them, would take her with all faults, and mo- 
ney enough. 

GRE. \ cannot tell: but I had as lief take her dowry 
with this condition, to be whipt at the high crofs eve; y 

HOR. 'Faith, as you fay, there's fmall choice in rot- 
ten apples. But, come; fince this bar in law makes us 
friends, it dial! be fo far forth friendly maintain'rl, "till 
by helping Baptiftas eldeit daughter to a hufba-cl, we 
fet his youngeil free for a husband, and then have to't 
afrefh _ Sweet Bianca! Happy man be his dole! He 
that runs fafteit, gets the ring How lay you, figr.ior 
Gremio ? 

GRE. [ am agreed : and 'would I had given him the 

1 8 2 r be faming cf the S&re-iv. 

beft horfe in Padua, to begin his wooing, that wouid 
thoroughly woo her, wed her, and bed her, and rid the 
houfeofher. Come on. \Exeunt GRE. <z</HoR. 

TRA. I pray, fir, tell me, [advancing.] Is it poffible, 
That love mould of a fudden take fuch hold ? 

Lvc, O, Tranio, 'till I found it to be true, 
I never thought it poffible, or likely; 
But fee ! while idly I flood looking on, 
I found the efFedt of love in idlenefs : 
And now in plainnefs do confefs to thee,^ 
That art to me as fecret, and as dear, 
As Anna to the queen of Carthage was, 
Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perifh, Tronic, 
If I atchieve not this young modeft girl: 
Counfel me, Tranio, for I know thou canfl; 
Affift me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt. 

TRA. Matter, it is no time to chide you now; 
Affe&ion is not rated from the heart : 
If love have touch'd you, nought remains but fo,~ 
Redime te captum quam qiteas minima. 

Luc. Gramercies, lad; go forward: this contents; 
The reft will comfort, for thy counfel's found. 

TRA. Mafter, you look'd fo longly on the maid, 
Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all. 

Luc. O yes, I faw fweet beauty in her face, 
Such as the daughter of Agenor had ; 
That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, 
When with his knees he kifPd the Cretan itrond. 

TRA. Saw you no more? mark'd you not, how her 


Began to fcold; and raise up fuch a {lorm, 
That mortal ears might hardly endure the din? 

7 be Taming of tie Slreiv. I 

Luc. Tranio, I faw her coral lips to move, 
And with her breath fhe did perfume the air; 
Sacred, and fweet, was all I law in her. 

TRJ. Nay, then, 'tis time to ftir him from his trance: 
I pray, awake, fir; \Jhaking him. ] If you love the maid, 
Bend thoughts and wits to atchieve her. Thus it flands:~ 
Her elder fifter is fo curft and fhrewd, 
That, 'till the father rid his hands of her, 
Mailer, your love muft live a maid at home; 
And therefore has he clofely mew'd her up, 
Because fhe fhall not be annoy'd with fuitors. 

Luc. Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he! 
But art thcu not advis'd, he took fome care 
To get her cunning fchoolmafters to inftruft her? 

TRJ. Ay, marry, am I, fir; and now 'tis plotted. 

Luc. I have it, Tranio. 

TRJ. Matter, for my hand. 
Both our inventions meet and jump in one. 

Luc. Tell me thine firft. 

TRJ. You will be fchoolmafter, 
And undertake the teaching of the maid: 
That's your device. 

Luc. It is ; May it be done ? 

TRA. Not poflible; For who (hall bear your part, 
And be in Padua here Vincent id's fon? 
Keep houfe, and ply his book; welcome his friends; 
Visit his countrymen, and banquet them ? 

Luc. Bafla, content thee; for I have it full. 
We have not yet been feen in any houfe; 
Nor can we be difiinguifh'd by our faces. 
For man, or matter: then it follows thus; ' 
Thou flialt be mafler, Tranio, in my (lead, 

1 1 fhe will 

2O The Taming of the Shrew. 

Keep houfe, and port, and fervants, as I mould: 
I will {ome other be; fome Florentine, 
Some Neapolitan, or mean man of Pi/a _ 

'Tis hatch'd, and (hall be 16: Tranio, at once 

Uncafe thee; take my colour'd hat, and cloak: 

\exchanging Cloaths e with kirn. 
When Bioneidlo comes, he waits on thee; 
But I will charm him firft to keep his tongue. 

TRA. So had you need. Sith it your pleasure is, 
And 1 am ty'd to be obedient; 
(For fo your father charg'd me at our parting; 
Be feruiceable to my Jon, quoth he, 
Although, I think, 'twas in another fenfe) 
I am content to be Lucentio, 
Because fo well I love Lucentio. 

Luc. Tranio, be fo, because Lucentio loves: 
And Jet me be a {lave, to atchieve that maid 
Whose fudden fight hath thrall'd my wounded eye. 

Here comes the rogue: .Sirrah, where have you been ? 

Bio. Where have I been : Nay, how now, where are 


Mailer, has my fellow Tranio ftoln your cloaths? 
Or you iloln hisr or both? pray, what'; the news? 

Luc. Sirrah, come hither ; 'tis no time to jell, 
And therefore frame your manners to the time. 
Your fellow Tranio here, to faye my life, 
Puts my apparel and my countenance on, 
And i for my efcape have put on his; 
For in a quarrel, fince I came afiiore, 
J kiil'd a man, and fear I am defcry'd : 
Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes, 

5 meaner man 9 nee<h: In breefc Sir, Cub- 

T'he Taming of the Shrew. 21 

While I make way from hence to fave my life: 
You underftand me? 

Bio. Ay, fir, ne'er a whit. 

Luc. And not a jot ofTratiio in your mouth; 
Crania is chang'd into Lucentio. 

Bio. The better for him; 'Would, I were fo too! 

RA. So would 1, i'faith, boy, to have the next wilh 


That Lucentio indeed had Baptiftas youngeft daughter. 
Bur, firrah, not for my fake, but your mailer's, I ad- 
vise you, 

Use your manners difcreetly in all kind of company: 
When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio; 
But in all places elfe, your mailer Lucentio. 

Luc. 'Tranio, let's go : 
One thing more refts, that thyfelf execute; 
To make one among these wooers : If thou afic me why, 
Sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty. 

[ Exeunt. 

i. S. My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play. 

SLY. Yes, by faint Anne, do I. A good matier, furely ; 
Comes there any more of it? 

Pag. My lord, 'tis but begun. 

Sir. 'Tis a very excellent pieceofwork, madamlady; 
'Would, it were done! 

SCENE II. Tbejame. Before HortenfioV lh*fe. 
Enter PETRUCHIO, aWGnuMio. 

PET. Verona, for a while 1 take my leave, 
To fee my friends in Padua; but, of all, 
My bdl beloved and approved friend, 

7 fo could i* companies 

22 The Taming of the Shrew. 

Hcrtenfio; and, I trow, this is his houfe:_ 
Here, firrah Gritmio; knock, I fay. 

GRV. Knock, fir! 

Whom fhould I knock, fir? Is there any man 
^Tijat has rebus'd your worftiip? 

Pur. Villain, 1 fay, 
Knock me here foundly. 

GRV. Knock you here, fir? Why, fir, 
What am I, fir, that I mould knock you here, fir? 

PE?. Villain, I fay, knock me at this gate, 
And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate. 

Gnu. My matter is grown quarrelfome:_I mould 

knock you firft, 
And then I know after who comes by the worft. 

PET. Will it not be?_ 

'Faith, firrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it; 
I'll try how you canyo/,/*, and fmg it. 

[ring! him by the Ears. 

GRU. Help, matters, help! my mailer is mad. 

PET. Now knock when I bid you: firrah! villain! 

HOK. How now ? what's the matter ? My old friend 

Grumio! and my good friend Petrucbio! How do you 

all at Verona? 

PET. Signior Hortenjio, come you to part the fray? 
Con lutto ti core ben trovato, may I fay. 

Ho R . Alia ncftra cafa bene *uenuto y 

Mclto honorato Jjgni'or mio Petrucbio 

Rise, (Jrutnio, rise; we will compound this quarrel. 

GRV Nay, 'tis no matter, fir, what he 'leges in Latin. 
_lf this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his fer- 
vice, Look you, fir, he bid me knock him, and rap 

'9 miilris *6 tutti Ic core bene trwa'.'.o 

The Taming of the Shrew. 2 i 

him foundly, fir: Well, was it fit for a fervant to use 
his mailer fo; being, perhaps, (for ought I fee) two and 
thirty, a pip out? 

Whom would to God I had well knock'd at firft; 
Then had not Grumio come by the worft. 

PET. A fenfelefs villain !_Good Hortenfeo, 
I bad the rafcal knock upon your gate, 
And could not get him for my heart to do it. 

GRU. Knock at the gater_O heavens !_ 
Spake you not these words plain, Sirrah, knock me hen, 
Rap me here, knock me iuell y and knock me foundly? 
And come you now with knocking at the gate? 

PET. Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you. 

HOR. Petruchio, patience; 1 am Grumio's pledge: 
Why, This is a heavy chance 'twixt him and you; 
Your ancient, trufty, pleasant fervant Grumio. 
And tell me now, fweet friend, what happy gale 
Blows you to Padua here, from old Verona? [world, 

PET. Such wind as fcatters young men through the 
To feek their fortunes farther than at home, 
Where fmall experience grows. But, in a few, 
Signior Horienfeo, thus it ftatids with me: 
Antonio, my father, is deceaf 'd ; 

And I have thruft myfelf into this maze, 

Happ'ly to wive, and thrive, as bell I may: 
Crowns in my purfe I have, and goods at home, 
And fo am come abroad to fee the world. 

HOR. Petrucbio, (hall I then come roundly to thee, 
And wi(h thee to a fhrewd ill-favour'd wife? 
Thou'dft thank me but a little for my counfel: 
And yet 1'il promise thee fhe mall be rich, 
And very rich: but thou'rt too much my friend, 

J a peepe * v. Kett. 

24 The Taming of the Shrew. 

And I'll not wifh thee to her. 

PET. Signior Horten/jo, 'twixt fuch friends as we, 
Few words fuffice: and, therefore, if thou know 
One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife, 
(As wealth is burthen of my wooing dance) 
Be fhe as foul as was Florentius* love, 
As old as Sibyl, and as curft and fhrowd 
As Socrates' Xantippe, or a worfe, 
She moves me not, or not removes (at lead) 
Affe&ion's edge in me; were fhe as rough 
As are the fwelling Adriatick feas : 
I come to wive it wealthily in Padua\ 
If wealthily, then happily in Padua. 

Gnu. Nay, look you, fir, he tells you flatly what his 
mind is: Why, give him gold enough, and marry him 
to a puppet, or an aglet baby; or an old trot with ne'er 
a tcoth in her head, though fhe have as many diseases 
as two and fifty horfes: why, nothing comes amifs, fo 
money comes withal. 

HOR. Petruckio, fince we are fiept thus far in, 
I wiil continue that I broach'd in jell. 
I can, Pctrucbio, help thee to a wife 
With wealth enough, and young, and beauteous; 
Brought up as bell becomes a gentlewoman: 
Her only fault (as that is fault enough) 
Is, that fhe is intolerable curft, 
And (hrewd, and froward ; fo beyond all measure, 
That, were my ilate far worfer than it is, 
I would net wed her for a mine of gold. 

PET. Hortfr>/jo, peace; thou know'lt not gold's effecV. * 
Tell me her father's name, and 'tis enough; 
For I will board her, though fhe chide as loud 

The Taming of the Shrenu. 25 

As thunder, when the clouds in autumn crack. 

HOR. Her father is Baptifta Minola, 
An affable and courteous gentleman: 
Her name is, Catberina Miaola; 
Renown'd in Padua for her fcolding tongue. 

PET. I know her father, though 1 know not her; 
And he knew my deceafed father well: 
I will not fleep, Hortenfeo, 'till I fee her; 
And therefore let me be thus bold with you, 
To give you over at this firit encounter, 
Unlefs you will accompany me thither. 

GRU. I pray you, fir, let him go while the humour 
lafls. O'my word, an fhe knew him as well as I do, (he 
would think fcolding would do little good upon him: 
She may, perhaps, call him half a fcore knaves, or fo : 
why, that's nothing; an he begin once, he'll rail in his 
rope- tricks. I'll tell you what, fir, An fhe ftand him 
but a little, he will throw a figure in her face; and fo 
diffigure her with it, that fhe fhall have no more eyes to 
fee withal than a cat: You know him not, fir. 

HOR. Tarry, Petruchio, I mutt go with thee; 
For in Baptifta 's keep my treasure is: 
He hath the jewel of my life in hold, 
His ycungeft daughter, beautiful Bianea; 
And her withholds from me, anU other more, 
Suitors to her, and rivals in my love: 
Supposing it a thing impoffible, 
(For those defects I have before rehearf dl 
That ever Catberina will be woo'd, 
Therefore this order hath Baptifta ta'en; 
That none fhall have accefs unto Bianca, 
'Till Catherine the curtf have got a husband. 

26 *Fbe Taming of the Sbreiu* 

GRU. Catherine the curft! ?; 

A title for a maid, of all titles the worft. 

HOR. Now ftiall my friend Petrucbio do me grace} 
And offer me, difguis'd in fober robes, 
To old Baptijla as a fchcolm after 
Well feen in musick, to inltruft Bianco. : 
That fo I may by this device, at lealt, 
Have leave and leisure to make love to her, 
And, unfufpecled, court her by myfelf. 

Enter, on the opposite Side, GREMIO; LUCENTIO 
with him, 'with Books under bis Arm. 

GRU. Here's no knavery See; to beguile the old folks, 

how the young folks lay their heads together! Mailer, 

mafter, look about you: Who goes there? ha. 

HOR. Peace, Grumio; 'tis the rival of my love:_ 
Petrucbio, ftand toe by a little while. 

GRU. A proper ftnpling, and an amorous! 

\tbey retire. 

GRE. O, very well; I have perus'd the note. 

[giving it back. 

Hark you, fir; I'll have them very fairly bound; 
All books of love, fee that at any hand; 
And fee you read no other lectures to her : 
You underftand me : Over and befide 
Signior Baptijias liberality, 

I'll mend it with a largefs. fi^erc,^ take your papers too, 
And let me have them very well perfum'd ; 
For (he is fweeter than perfume itfelf, 
To whom they go. What will you read to her ? 

Luc. Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you, 
As for my patron, ftand you fo affur'd, 
As firmly as yourfelf were Hill in place: 

i&^aper 29 go to : what 

y%e Taming of the Shreii}. 27 

Yea, and (perhaps) with more fuccefsful word* 
Than you, unlefs you were a fcholar, fir. 

GKE, O this learning! what a thing it is! 

GRIT. O this woodcock 1 what an afs it is! 

Psr. Peace, firrah. 

HOR. Grumio, mum. God fave yon, fignior Gremio! 


GRE. You are well met, fignior Horten/io.Trow you 
Whither I am going? To Baptifta Minola. 
I promis'd !>im> to enquire carefully 
About a fchoolmafter for the fair Bianca: 
And, by good fortune, I have lighted well 
On this~f" young man; for learning, and behaviour, 
Fit for her turn; well read in poetry, 
And other books, good ones, I warrant ye. 

HOR. 'Tis well: and I have met a gentleman, 
Hath promis'd me to help me to another, 
A fine musician to inftrudt our miftrefs ; 
So fhall I no whit be behind in duty 
To fair Bianca, fo belov'd of me. 

GRE. Belov'd of me, and that my deeds fhall prove. 

GRIT. " and that his bags fhall prove." 

HOR. Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love: 
Liften to me, and, if you fpeak me fair, 
I'll tell you news indifferent good for either. 
Here~(~is a gentleman, whom by chance I met, 
Upon agreement from us to his liking, 
Will undertake to woo curft Catherine*, 
Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please. 

GRE. So faid, fo done, is well: 
Horten/io, have you told him all her faults? 

Per. I know, me is an irkfome brawling fcold j 

Gre, And you 7 helpe one to 

Voi. III. T 

28 The laming of the Shrew. 

If that be all, matters, I bear no harm. 

GRE. No.fay'ft mefo, friendr }|3rsis what countryman? 

PET. Born in Verbnti, old Antonio's fon : 
My father dead, my fortune lives for me; 
And I do hope good days, and long, to fee. 

GRE. Sir, fuch a life, with fuch a wife, were ftrange: 
But, if yon have a ftomack, to't o'God's name, 
You fliall have me aflifting you in all. 
But will you woo this wild-cat? 

PET. Will I live? 

GRU. " Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her." 

PET. Why came I hither, but to that intent? 
Think you, a little din can daunt mine ears ? 
Have I not in my time heard lions rear? 
Have I not heard the fea, puft up with winds, 
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with fweat? 
Have I not heard great ordinance in the field, 
And heaven's artillery thunder in the fides? 
Have I not in a pitched battle heard 
Loud 'larums, neighing fteeds, and trumpets' clangue? 
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue; 
That gives not half fo great a blow to the ear, 
As will a chefnut in a farmer's fire? 
Turn, tufti ! fear boys with bugs. 

GRU. " For he fears none." 

G*. Hortenjio, hark! 
This gentleman is happily arriv'd, 
My mind presumes, for his own good, and ours. 

HOR. I promis'd, we would be contributors, 
And bear his charge of wooing, whatfoe'er. 

GRE. And fo we will ; provided, that he win her. 

Gxu. " I would, I were as fure of a good dinner.'* 

3 Butoaiot & Gre. ph fir, a to beare ** and yours 

The Taming of the Sareiv. 20 

Enter TRANIO, brave; and Biondello. 

TRA. Gentlemen, God fave you! If I may be bold, 
Tell me, I befeech you, which is the readieit way, 
To the houfe of fignior Baptifta Minola? [mean ? 

GRE. He that has the two fair daughters? is't he you 

TRA. Even he, fir. 

GRE. Hark you, fir; You mean not her to 

TRA. Perhaps, him and her, fir; What have you to do? 

PET. Not her that chides, fir, at any hand, I pray. 

TRA. I love no chiders, fir: .Biondello, let's away. 

Luc. " Well begun, Tranio." 

HOR. Sir, a word ere you go; 
Are you a fuitor to the maid you talk of, yea, or no? 

TRA. An if I be, fir, is it any oftence? [hence. 

GRE. No; if, without more words, you will get you 

TRA. Why, fir, I pray you, are not the itreets as free 
For me, as for you ? 

GRE. But fo is not me. 

TRA. For what reason, I befeech. you? 

GRE. For this reason, if you'll know, 
That (he's the choice love of fignior Grcmh. 

HOR. That (he is the chosen of fignior Hortcnjio. 

TRA. Softly, my matters! if you be gentlemen, 
Do me this right, hear me with patience. 
Baptifta is a noble gentleman, 
To whom my father is not all unknown; 
And, were his daughter fairer than {he is, 
She may more fuitors have, and me for one. 
Fair Lena's daughter had a thousand wooers; 
Then well one more may fair Bianca have: 
And fo {he (hall; Lucentio {hall make one, 
Though Paris came, in hope to fpeed alone. 

J Lie. He & be Bisndtllo, 


JO 7'be Taming of the Shrew. 

GRE. What, tofmt! this gentleman will out-talk us all. 

Luc. Sir, give him head ; I know, he'Jl prove a jade. 

PET. Hortenjio t to what end are all these words . ? 

HOR. Sir, let me be fo bold as afk you tfjia ; 
Did you yet ever fee Baptijlcis daughter ? 

TRA. No, fir; but hear I do, that he hath two: 
The one as famous for a fcolding tongue, 
As the other is for beauteous modefty. 

PET. Sir, fir, the firft's for me; let her go by. 

GRE. Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules ; 
And let it be more than Abide? twelve. 

PET. Sir, underftand you this of me, infooth; 
The youngeft daughter, whom you harken for, 
Her father keeps from all accefs of fuitors; 
And will not promise her to any mao, 
Until her elder Mer firft be wed : 
The younger then is free, and not before. 

TRA. If it be fo, fir, that you are the man 
Mult ftead us all, and me amongft the reft; 
An if you break the ice, and do this feat, 
Atchieve the elder, fet the younger free 
For our accefs, whose hap mail be to have her, 
Will not fo gracelefs be, to be ingrate. 

HOR. Sir, you fay well, and well you do conceive: 
And fince you do profefs to be a fuitor, 
You muft as we do, gratify this gentleman, 
To whom we all reft generally beholding. 

TRA. Sir, I mall not be flack: in fign whereof, 
Please ye we may convive this afternoon, 
And quaff carouses to our miftrefs' health ; 
And do as adverfaries do in law, 
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.. 

* is the other * this feeke *9 contrive 

Ibe Taming of the Sbrew* 31 

GRU. O excellent motion !_ Fellows, let's be gone. 
HOR. The motion's good indeed, and be it fo;_ 
ttrucbtOt I'll be your ben venuto. [Exeunt. 

SCENE I. rbefamt. A Room in BaptiftaV Houfe. 

Enter CATHERINA, and BIANCA, her Hands 


BIA. Good fifter, wrong me not, nor wrong yourfelf, 
To make a bondmaid and a flave of me; 
That I difdain : but for these other gawds, 
Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myfelf, 
Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat; 
Or, what you will command me, will I do, 
So well I kaow my duty to my elders. 

CAT. Of all thy fuitors, here I charge thee, tell 
Whom thou lov'ft belt : fee thou diflemble not. 

BIA. Believe me, fifter, of all the men alive, 
I never yet beheld that fpecial face 
Which I could fancy more than any other. 

CAT. Minion thou ly'ft; Is't not Hortenfio? 

BIA. If you affeft him, fifter, here I fwear, 
I'll plead for you myfelf, but you mall have him. 

CAT. O then, belike, you fancy riches more; 
You will have Gremio to keep you fair. 

BIA. Is it for him you do envy me fo? 
Nay, then you jeft; and now 1 well perceive,. 
You have but jefted with me all this while: 
I pr'ythee fifter, Kate, unty my hands. [fo. 

CAT. If that be jeft, [ftriking her.} then all the reft was 

3 I fhall 3 goods 

T 3 

32 The Taming of tle 

BAP. Why, how now, dame! whence grows this in- 

fo'ence : 

B':anca, ftand afide;_:poor girl! fhe weeps: 

Go, ply thy needle; meddle not with her 

For fhame, thou hilding of a devilifli fpirit, 

Why doft thcu wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee? 

When did fhe crofs thee with a bitter word? 

CAt. Her fiience flouts me, and J'Jl be reveng'd. 

\fiics aj;er Bianca. 

BAP. What, in my fight t-Jjicpfing her. ] 'Bianco, get 
thee in . [ Exit BIANCA. 

CAT. Will you not fuffer me? Nay, now 1 fee, 
She is your treasure, fhe muft have a husband; 
I muft dance bare-foot on her wedding-day, 
And, for your love to her, lead apes in hell. 
Talk ret to me; I will go fit and weep, 
'Til! I can find occasion of revenge. [Exit CATHERINE. 

BAP. Was ever gentleman thus griev'd as I . ? 
But who here? 

Enter GREMIO, and Lucentio ; 

PETRUCHIO, tith Hortenfio as a Musician; 

ai/TRANlo, with Biondello attending, bearing 

a Lute and Bosks. 

GKE. Gcod morrow, neighbour Eaftifta. 
BAP. Good morrow, neighbour GV e //./c:_God fave 

you, gentlemen ! 

PET. And you, good fir! Pray, have you not a daughter 
, CalFd Ca:ktrina, fair, and virtuous? 

AP. I have a daughter, itr, cai^'d Caibcrii.a. 

GKE. You are too blunt, go to it orderly. 

PET. You wrong me,f:gn;or Gremi:; give me leave 

. What will 

The Taming of the Sfa-e-tv. jj 

I am a gentleman of V^rona, fir, 

That, hearing of her beauty, and her wit, 

Her affability, and bafhful modefty, 

Her wondrous qualities, and mild behaviour, 

Am bold to (hew myfelf a forward gueft 

Within your houfe, to make mine eye the witnefs 

Of that report which I fo oft have heard. 

And, for an entrance to my entertainment, 

I do present you with a man of mine, 

\fresenting Hortenfio. 

Cunning in musick, and the mathematicks, 
To inftruft her fully in those fciences, 
Whereof, I know, (he is not ignorant: 
Accept of him, or elfe you do me wrong; 
His name is Lido, born in Mantua. 

BAP . You're welcome, fir ; and he, for your good fake : 
But for my daughter Catherine, this I know, 
She is not for your turn, the more my grief. 

PET. 1 fee, you do not mean to part with her; 
Or elfe you like not of my company. 

BAP. Miftake me not, I fpeak but as I find. 
Whence are you, fir? what may I call your name ? 

PET. Petruchio is my name; Antonio's fon, 
A man well known throughout all Italy. 

BAP. I know him well: you are xvelcome for his fake. 

GRE. Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray, let 
Us, that are poor petitioners, fpeak too : 
Baccare! you are marvelous forward, ffr* 

PET. O, pardon me, fignior Gretnio; I would fain be 
doing. [ing 

GRE. I doubt it not, fir; but you will curfe your wpo- 
Neighbour, [to Baptifta. 

3* wooing ne'ghbours : 

34 The 7aming of tie Shrew, 

This is a gift very grateful, I am fure of it: 
9tVD,~to exprefs the like kindnefs myfelf, 
That have been more beholding to you than any,"' 
31 freely give unto gou this young fcholar, 

[presenting Lucentio. 

That hath been long ftudying at Rheims; as cunning 
In Latin, Greek, and other languages, 
As the other in musick, and tl>e mathematicks : 
His name is Cambio; pray, accept his fervice. 

BAT. A thousand thanks, gootl fignior Gremio: 

Welcome, good Cambio But, gentle fir, [to Tra, 

Methinks, you walk |>ere like a ftranger; May 1 
Be bold to know the cause too of your coming? 

TRA. Pardon me, fir, the boldnefs is mine ownj 
That, being a ftranger in this city here, 
J3o make myfelf a fuitor to your daughter, 
Unto Bianco, fair, and virtuous. 
Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me, 
In the preferment of the eldeft filter : 
This liberty is all that I requeft, 
That, upon knowledge of my parentage, 
I may have welcome 'mongft the reft that woo, 
And free accefs and favour as the reft. 
And, toward the education of your daughters, 
I here beftow^a fimple inftrument, 
And this^fmall packet of Greek and Latin books: 

[giving the Lute, and Book*, 
If you accept them, then their worth is great. 

BAP. Lucentio is your name? of whence, I pray? 

TRA. OfPifa, fir; fon toVtncentio. 

BAP. A mighty man of Pija, by report; 
I know him well: you're very welcome, fir 

3 More kinde!y beholdi-g 7 Gteeke, Ratine '3 be fo boI4 

The Taming of the S&rew. 3 5 

Take you ^ the lute, and you ^ the fet of books,_ 

You fhall go fee your pupils presently 

Hola, within tljerc ! _ 

Enter a Servant. 

Sirrah, (hew these gentlemen 

To my two daughters ; and then tell them both, 

These are their tutors; bid them use them well. 

[Exit Servant, 'with Luc. a</ Hor. Eio.fottowt. 
We will go walk a little in the orchard, 
And then to dinner: You are paffing welcome, 
And fo I pray you all to think yourfelves. 

PET. Signior Baptiftx, my businefs afketh hafle, 
And every day I cannot come to woo. 
You knew my father well ; and, in him, me, 
Left folely heir to all his lands and goods, 
Which I have better'd rather than decreaPd: 
Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love, 
What dowry (hall I have with her to wife? 

BAP. After my death, the one half of my lands; 
And, in posseffion, twenty thousand crowns. 

PET. And, for that dowry, I'll allure her for 
Her widowhood, be it that (he furvive me, 
In all my lands and leafes whatfoever: 
Let fpecialties be therefore drawn between us, 
That covenants may be kept on either hand. 

BjtP. Ay, when the fpecial thing is well obtain'd, 
That is, her love; for that is all in all. 

PET. Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father^ 
I am as peremptory as me proud-minded ; 
And where two raging fires meet together, 
They do confume the thing that feeds their fury: 
Though little fire grows great with little wind, 

36 The Taming of the Shrew. 

Yet extream gufts will blow out fire and all: 
So I to her, and fo flie yields to me; 
For I am rough, and woo not like a babe. 

BAP. Well may'ft thou woo, and happy be thy fpeed! 
But be thou arm'd for fome unhappy words. 

PET. Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds, 
That (hake not, though they blow perpetually. 
Re-enter HORTENSIO, tultb bis Head broke. 

BAP. How now, my friend? why doft thou look fo 

HOR. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale. [an ? 

BAP. What, will my daughter prove a good musici- 

HOK. I think, (he'll fooner prove a foldier; 
Iron may hold with her, but never lutes. 

BAP. Why, then thou canft not break her to the lute. 

HOR. Why, no; for (he hath broke the lute to me. 
I did but tell her, (he miflook her frets, 
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering; 
When, with a moft impatient devilifli fpirit, 
Frets call you these, quoth (he? I'll fume luith them: 
And, with that word, (he (Irook me on the head, 
And through the inftrument my pate made way; 
And there 1 ftood amnzed for a while, 
As on a pillory, looking through the lute: 
While (he did'call me, rafcaUdler, 
And, twangling "Jack ; with twenty fuch vile terms, 
As Ihe had ftudy'd to mifuse me fo. 

PET. Now, by the world, it is a lufty wench; 
I love her ten tinies more than e'er I did: 
O, how I long to have fome chat with her! [comfited: 

BAP. Well, go with me, [to Hor.] and be not fo dii- 
Proceed in practiie with my younger daughter; 

*- had (he 

V&t Taming of tie Shrew. yj 

She's apt to learn, and thankful for good turns. , 

Signior Petruchh, will you go with us; 
Or ihall I fend my daughter Kate to you? 

PET. I pray you, do; I will attend her here, 

[Exeunt BAP. GRE. TRA. and Hog.. 
And woo her with fome fpirit when (he comes. 
Say, that (he rail ; why, then I'll tell her plain, 
She iigns as fwcetly as a nightingale: 
Say, that fhe frown ; I'll fay, (lie looks as clear 
As morning roses newly vvafh'd with dew: 
Say, (he be mute, and will not fpeak a word; 
Then I'll commend her volubility, 
And fay fhe uttereth piercing eloquence: 
If fhe do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks, 
As though fhe bid me ftay by Ker a week; 
If fhe deny to wed, I'll crave the day 
When I fhall afk the banes, and when be marry'd; 
But here ftie comes; and now, Petruchio, fpeak. 


Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear. 
CAT. Weil have you heard, but fomething hard of 

hearing ; 
They call w& Catherine, that do talk of me. 

PET. You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate, 
And bonny Kate, and fometimes Kate the cur$ ; 
But Kate, the prettieft Kate in chriftendom, 
Kate of Kate-\\a\\, my fuper-dainty Kate, 
For dainties are allca.cs: And therefore, Kate, 
Take this of me, Kate of my confolation; 
Hearing thy mildnefs prais'd in every town, 
Thy virtues fpoke of, and thy beauty fouiadedj 
(Yet not fo deeply as to thee belongs) 

*8 all Katn 

3 8 Tie Taming cf tie Shrew. 

Myfelf am mov'd to woo thee for my wife. [hither, 

CAT. Mov'd! in good time- Let him that mov'd you 
Remove you hence: 1 knew you at the firft, 
Yon were a moveable. 

PET. Why, what's a moveable? 

CAT. A joint-flool. 

PET. Thou haft hit it : come, fit on me. 

CAT, Afles are made to bear, and fo are you. 

PET. Women are made to bear, and fo are you. 

CAT. No fuch jade, fir, as you, if me you mean, 

PET. Alas, good Kate! 1 will not burthen thee: 
For, knowing thee to be but young and light, 

CAT. Too light for fuch a fwain as you to catch; 
And yet as heavy as my weight fhould be. 

Ps T. Should be? fhould buz. 

CAT. Well ta'en, and like a buzzard. 

PET. O flow- wing'd turtle! {hall a buzzard take thee? 

CAT. Ay, for a turtle; as he takes a buzzard. 

PFT. Come, come, you wafp; i'faith, you are too angry. 

CAT. If I be wafpifh, beft beware my fling. 

PET. My remedy is then, to pluck it out. 

CAT. Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies. 

PET. Who knows not where a wafp does wear his fling ? 
Jn his tail. 

CAT. 3ln |)i3 tail! in his tongue. 

PET. 3(n l>te toncue? whose tongue? 

CAT. Yours, ifyou talk of tails; and fofarewel. [again, 

PET. What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come 
Good Kate', I am a gentleman. 

CAT. That I'll try. \.firiking him. 

PET. I fwear, I'll cuff you, ifyou flrike again. 

Or. So may you lose your arms: ifyou ilrike me, 

The Taming of the Shrew. y\ 

You are no gentleman; and if no gentleman, 
Why, then no arms. 

PET. A herald, Kate? o, put 
Me in thy books. 

CAT:. What is your creft ? a coxcomb ? 

PET. A comblefs cock, fo Kate will be my hen. 

CAT. No cock of mine, you crow too like a craven. 

PET. Nay,come, AT/if,come;youmuftnotlookfofour. 

CAT. It is my fafliion, when I fee a crab. 

PET. Why, here's no crab; and therefore look notfour. 

CAT. There is, there is. 

PET. Then (hew it me. 

CAT. Had I a glafs, I would. 

PET. What, you mean my face. 

CAT. Well aim'd of fuch a young one. 

PET. Now, by faint George, I am too young for you. 

CAT. Yet you are wither'd. 

PET. 'Tis with cares. 

CAT. I care not. 

PET. Nay, hear you, Kate : in footh, you 'fcape not Co* 

CAT. I chafe you, if I tarry ; let me go. 

PET. No, not a whit; I find you palfing gentle. 
'Twas told me, you were rough, and coy, and fallen, 
And now I find report a very liar; 
For thou art pleasant, gamefome, paffing courteous, 
But flow in fpeech, yet fweet as fpring-time flowers: 
Thou canft not frown, thou canft not look afkance, 
Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will; 
Nor haft thou pleasure to be crofs in talk? 
But thou with mildnefs entertain'ft thy wooers, 
With gentle conference, foft, and affable. 
- Why does the world report, that Kate doth limp.* 

4.0 The 'faming of the Shrew. 

fland'rous world! Kate like the hazle twig 
Is ftrait, and flender; and as brown in hue 
As hazle nuts, and fweeter than the kernels. 
O, let me fee thee walk : thou doft not halt. 

CAT. Go, fool, and whom thou keep'ft command. 

PET. Did ever Dian fo become a grove, 
As Kate this chamber with her princely gait? 
O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate; 
And then let Kate be chaft, and Dian fportful. 

CAT. Where did you ftudy all this goodly fpeech? 

PET. It is extempore from my mother-wit. 

CAT. A witty mother! witnefs elfe her fon. 

PET. Am I not wise? 

CAT. Yes ; keep you warm. 

PET. Marry, fo 1 mean, fweet Catherine, in thy bed 
And therefore, fetting all this chat afide, 
Thus in plain terms; Your father hath confented, 
That you fliall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on ; 
And will you, nill you, I will marry you. 
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn; 
For, by this light, whereby I fee thy beauty; 
Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well, 
Thou mutt be marry'd to no man but me : 
For I am he am born to tame you, Kate; 
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate 
Conformable, as other houfliold Kates. 

Here comes your father; never make denial, 

1 rruft and will have Catherine to my wife. 

BAP. Now, fignior Petruchio; how fpeed 
You with my daughter? 
PET. How but well, fir? how but well." 

" witleffe 

7%e Taming of the Shrew. > I 

It were impoffible, I fliould fpeed amifs. [dumps? 

BAP. Why, how now, daughter Catherine? in your 

CAT. Call you me daughter? now I promise you, 
You have ftiew'd a tender fatherly regard, 
To wifh me wed to one half lunatick; 
A mad-cap ruffian, and a fwearing Jack, 
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out- 

PET. Father, 'tis thus, yourfelf and all the world, 
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amifs of her; 
If me be curft, it is for policy: 
For (he's not froward, but modeft as the dove; 
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn; 
For patience me will prove a fecond GrixtUt t 
And Roman Lucrece for her chaftity: 
And to conclude, we have 'greed fo well together, 
That upon funday is the wedding-day. 

CA . I'll fee thee hang'd o'funday firft. 

GRE. Hark, Petruchio! 
She fays, fhe'll fee thee hang'd o'funt)at> firft. 

TRA Is this your fpeeding? nay, then, good night our 

PET. Be patient, gentlemen ; I choose her for myfelf; 
If me and 1 be pleas'd, what's that to you? 
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone, 
That me (hall ftill be curft in company. 
I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe 
How much me loves me: O, the kindeft Kale! 
She hung about my neck; and kifs on kifs 
She vy'd fo faft, protefting oath on oath, 
That in a twink me won me to her love. 
O, you are novices ! 'tis a world to fee, 
How tame, when men and women are alone, 

4* The Taming of the Shrew. 

A meacock wretch can make the curfteft fhrew.^,1 
Give me thy hand, Kate ; I will unto Venice., 

To buy apparel 'gainfl the wedding-day: 

Provide the feaft, father, and bid the guefts; 
I will be fure, my Catherine mail be fine. 

B^p . I know not what to fay : but give me your hands J 
God fend you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match. 

GRE. TRA. Amen, fay we; we will be witnefles. 

PET. Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu; 

I will to Venice, funday comes apace: 

We will have rings, and things, and fine array ; 
And kifs me, Kate, we will be marry'd o'funday. 

[Exeunt CAT. and PET. 

GRE. Was ever match clapt up fo fuddenly? 

BAP. 'Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part, 
And venture madly on a defperate mart. 

TRA. 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you; 
'Twill bring you gain, or pcrifh on the feas. 

BAP. The gain I feek is quiet in the match. 

GRE. No doubt, but he hath got a quiet catch-* 
But now, Baptifta, to your younger daughter; 
Now is the day we long have looked for; 
I am your neighbour, and was fuitor firft. 

TRA. And 1 am one, that love Bianco more 
Than words can witnefs, or your thoughts can guefs. 

GRE. Youngling, thou canft not love fo dear as I. 

TRA. Grey-beard, thy love doth freeze. 

GRE. But thine doth fry. 
Skipper, ftand back; 'tis age, that nouriflieth. 

'TRA. But youth, in ladies' eyes that flouriflieth. 

BAP, Content you, gentlemen; I will compound this 

19 quiet me th 

The Taming of the Shre-iu. A<t 

'Tis deeds, muft win the prize; and he, of both, 
That can affure my daughter greateft dower, 
Shall have Bianca's love 3nB, ffrfl, to POU; 
Say, fignior Gremio, what can you afTure her? 

GRE. Firft, as you know, my houfe within the city 
Is richly furnifhed with plate and gold; 
Bafons, and ewers, to lave her dainty hands; 
My hangings all of Tyrian tapeftry: 
In ivory coffers I have ftuff'd my crowns; 
In cyprefs chefts my arras counterpanes, 
Coftly apparel, tents, and canopies, 
Fine linnen, Turky cufhions bod with pearl, 
Valance of Venice gold in needle-work, 
Pewter, and brafs, and all things that belong 
To houfe, or houfe-keeping: then, at my farm, 
1 have a hundred milch -kine to the pail, 
Six-fcore fat oxen landing in my flails, 
And all things anfwerable to this portion. 
Myfelf am ftrook in years, I muft confefs; 
And, if I die to-morrow, this is hers, 
If, whilfl I live, fhe will be only mine. 

TRA. That, only, came well in _J3ir, lift to me; 
I am my father's heir, and only fon: 
If [ may have your daughter to my wife, 
I'll leave her houses three or four as good, 
Within rich Pi/a walls, as any one 
Old fignior Gremio has in Padua; 
Befides two thousand ducats by the year 
Of fruitful land, all which (hall be her jointure 
What, have I pinch'd you, fignior Gremio? 

GRE. Two thousand ducats by the year of land! 
My land amounts but to fo much in all, 

counterpoints 5 Valley H belongs J* not to 

VOL. III. u 

44 The Taming of the Shrew* 

That lhe fhall have; befides an argofy, 

That now is lying in Marjeilles 1 road : 

What, have I choak'd you with an argofy? 

TRA. Gremio, 'tis known, my father hath no lefs 
Than three great argofies; befides two galliafles, 
And twelve tight gallies: these I will allure her, 
And twice as much, whate'er thou ofFer'ft next. 

GRS. Nay, I hava ofFer'd all, 1 have no more; 

And fhe can have no more than all I have; 

If you like me, me fhall have me and mine. 

TKA, Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,. 
By your firm promise; Gremio is out-vy'd. 

BAP. I muft confefs, your offer is the beft; 
And, let your father make her the aflurance, 
She is your own; elfe, you muft pardon me: 
If you mould die before him, where's her dower? 

TKA, That's but a cavil; he is old, I young. 

GRE. And may not young men dis, as well as old?* 

BAP. Well, gentlemen, 

I am thus resolv'd; On funday next, you know, 
My daughter Catherine is to be majry.'d: 
Now, on the funday following, mall Bianca 
Be bride to you, Hucentio, if you 
Make this aflurance; if not, to fignior : 
And fo I take my leave, and thank you both. [Exit. 

GRE. Adieu, good neighbour Now I fear thee not; 

Sirrah, young gamefter, your father were a fool 

To give thee all, and, in his waining age, 

Set foot under thy table: Tut! a toy! 

An old Italian fox is not fo kind, my boy. [Exit. 

TRA. A vengeance on your crafty whher'd hide! 
Yet 1 have fac'd it with a card of ten. 

We Taming of the Shrew. 4- 

J Tis in my head to do my matter good:"" 4 

I fee no reason, but fuppos'd Lucentio 

May get a father, call'd fuppos'd Vincentio; 

And that's a wonder: fathers, commonly, 

Do get their children; but, in this cafe of wooing, 

A child {hall get a fire, if I fail not of my cunning. 


SCENE II. The fame. Another Room. 

Enter LUCENTIO, amdEiAncA, converfing ; 

to them, HORTENSIO. 

Luc. Fidler, forbear; you grow too forward, fit: 
Have you fo foon forgot the entertainment 
Her filter Catherine welcom'd you withal ? 

HOR. ?f)e 10 a ftrtto ; but, wrangling pedant, this is 
The patronefs of heavenly harmony : 
Then give me leave to have prerogative; 
And when in musick we have fpent an hour, 
Your lefture fhall have leisure for as much. 

Luc. Prepoft'rous afs! that never read fo far, 
To know the cause why musick was ordain'd ! 
Was it not, to refrefh the mind of man, 
After his ftudies, or his usual pain ? 
Then give me leave to read philofophy, 
And, when I pause, ferve in your harmony. 

HOR. Sirrah, I will nbt bear these braves of thine. 

EIA. Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong, 
To ftrive for that which retteth in my choice: 
I am no breeching fcholar in the fchools; 
I'll not be ty'd to hours, nor 'pointed times, 
But learn my lefTons as I please myfelf. 
And, to cut off all ftrife, here fit we down ;_. 

J Muft get *S while I 

^6 The 'Taming of the Skre<w. 

Take you your inftrument, play you the whiles? 
His Jeclure will be done, ere you have tun'd. 

HOR. You'll leave his le&ure, when I am in tune? 

[to Bia. taking up his Lute. 

Luc. That will be never ;_tune your inftrument. 

Si A . Where left we laft r [fating to a Table with Luc. 

Lvc. Here, madam: [/hewing a Book. 

Hie ibat Simois; hie eft Sigeia tel/us; 
Hie fteterat Priami regia celjafenis. 

BIA. Conilrue them. 

Lvc. Hie ibat, as I told you before, Simois, I am 
Lucenfio t bic eft, fon unto Vincent io of Pifn, Sigeiatel- 
lus, difguised thus to get your love; Hie Jleterat, and 
that Luetntio that comes a wooing, Priami, is my man 
Tranio, regia, bearing my port,. eel/a fenii, that we 
might beguile the old pantaloon. 

HOR. Madam, my inltrument's in tune. 

BIA. Let's hear: [Hor. plays. 

O, fie! the treble jars. 

Luc. Spit in the hole, man, 
And tune again. 

EIA. Now let me fee if I can conftrue it. 
Hie ibat Simcis, I know you not; hie eft Sigeia tellus, I 
truft you not; Hie Jltterat Priami, take heed he hear 
us not; regia, presume not;~v^z Jenis, defpair 

HOR. Madam, 'tis now in tune. 

Lvc. All but the bafe. 

HOR. The bafe is right; 'tis the bafe knave that jars __ 
" How fiery and Ijoto forward is our pedant!" 
" Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love;" 
" Pedajcule, I'll watch you better yet." 

3 our Pedant is 

7'he Taming of the Shrew. ^ 

18ia In time I may believe, yet I miftruft. 

[feeing Hor. lijlen. 

Luc. Miftruft it not; for, fare, JEacides 
Was /#a*, call'd fo from his grandfather. 

BIA. I muft believe my mafter ; elfe, I promise you, 
I mould be arguing ftill upon that doubt: 

But let it reft Now, Lido, to you: [rising. 

Good mafters, take it not unkindly, pray, 
That I have been thus pleasant with you both. 

HOR. You may go walk, [to Luc.] and give me leave 

a while; 
My leflbns make no musick in three parts. 

Luc. " Are you fo formal, fir.' well, I muft wait, 


" And watch withal; for, but I be deceiv'd," 
" Our fine musician groweth amorous," 

HOR. Madam, before you touch the inftrument, 
To learn the order of my fingering, 
I muft begin with rudiments of art; 
To teach you gamut in a briefer fort, 
More pleasant, pithy, and effectual, 
Than hath been taught by any of my trade: 
And there it is in writing, fairly drawn, [gives a Paper. 

BIA. Why, I am pad my gamut long ago. 

HOR. Yet read the gamut ofHorten/io. 

BIA. Gamut / am, the ground of all accerd, [reads. 
A re, to plead HortenfioV />/?; 

B me, Bianca, take bimjor thy lord, 
C faut, that loves with all ajfeftion: 

D fol re, one cliff, not two notes have /; 

E la mi,^o-zw me pity, or I die. 
Call you this gamut? tut! I like it not: 

3 Bian. Mif 5 Hert. I 8 mafter 

48 The Taming of the Shrew. 

Old fafhions please me bell; I am not fo nice, 
To change true rules for odd inventions. 

Enter a Servant. 

Ser. Miftrefs, your father prays you leave your books. 
And help to drefs your filler's chamber up ; 
You know, to-morrow is the wedding-day. 

BIA. Farewel, fweet matters both; I muft be gone. 

{Exeunt Ser. and BIA. 
Luc. 'Faith. > miftrefs, then I have no cause to flay. 

[Exit LuCENTlQ. 

HOR. But I have cause to pry into this pedant; 
Methinks, he looks as though he were in love; 
Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be fo humble, 
To caft thy wand'ring eyes on every ftale, 
Seize thee, that lift ; If once 1 find thee ranging, 
Hortenfio will be quit with thee by changing. [Exit. 


SCENE I. The fame. Court before the Houfe. 


Bianca, and Attendants; LUCENTIO, and 

Hortenfio among them. 

BAP . Signior Lucentio, [to Tra ] this is the 'pointed day 
That Catherine and Petruchio fhould be marry'd, 
And yet we hear not of our fon-in-law: 
What will be faid r what mockery will it be, 
To want the bridegroom, when the prieft attends 
To fpeak the ceremonial rites of marriage? 
What fays Lucentio to this fhame of ours? 

CJIT. No ihame bat mine: I ir.uft, forfooth, be forc'd 

* for old 

*Fi}t Taming of the Shrew, ^ 

To give my hand, oppos'd againft my heart, 
Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of fpleen ; 
Who woo'd in hafle, and means to wed at leisure. 
I told you, I, he was a frantick fool, 
Hiding his bitter jefts in blunt behaviour: 
And, to be noted for a merry man, 
He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage, 
Make friends, invite, yes, and proclaim the banes; 
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd. 
Now muft the world point at poor Catherine; 
And fay, Z,<?/ there is mod Petruchio'/ wife, 
If it would please him come and marry her. 

I'RA. Patience, good Catherine, and Baptijla too; 
Upon my life, Petruchio means but well, 
Whatever fortune flays him from his word : 
Though he be blunt, I know him paffing wise; 
Though he be merry, yet withal he's honeft. 

CAT:. 'Would, Catherine had never feen him though! 
[Exit, weeping: is follow d by Bianca, Gremio, 
Hortenfio, and Others. 

BAP. Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep; 
.For fuch an injury would vex a faint, 
Much more a fhrew of thy impatient temper. 
Enter BIONDELLO, ha/lily. 

Bio. Mailer, matter! [to Tra.] news, oHl Itrt00, and 
fuch news as you never heard of! 

BAP. Is it new and old too ? how may that be? 

Bio. Why, is it not news, to hear of Pftrnchio's co- 

BAP. Is he come? 

Bio. Why, no, fir. 

BAP. What then? 

3/0. He is coming. 

50 "The Taming of the Shrew. 

BAP. When will he be here? 

Bio. When he ftands where I am, and fees you there. 

TRJ. But fay, what be thine old news? 

Bio. Why, Petruchio is coming, in a new hat, and 
an old jerkin; a pair of old breeches, thrice turn'd; a 
pair of boots that have been candle-cafes, one buckl'd, 
another lac'd ; an old rufty fword ta'en out of the town 
armory, with a broken hilt, and chapelefs, with two 
broken points : His horfe hip'd with an old mothy fad- 
die, the ftirrops of no kindred: befides, posseft with the 
glanders, and like to mose in the chine; troubl'd with 
the lampafs, infected with the fafhions, full of wind- 
galls, fped with fpavins, ray'd with the yellows, paft cure 
of the vives, ftark fpoil'd with the ftaegers, begnawn 
with the bots; fway'd in the back, and fhoulder-fhotten; 
neat-leg'd before, and with a half-check'd bit, and a 
head-ftall of fheepVleather; which, being reftrain'd to 
keep him from flumbling, hath been often burft, and 
now repaired with knots: one girth fix times piec'd, 
and a Woman's crupper of velure; which hath two let- 
ters for her name, fairly fet down in ftuds, and here and 
there piec'd with pack-thread. 

BJV. Who comes with him? 

Bio. O, fir, his lacquey, for all the world caparifon'd 
like the horfe; with a linnen ftock on one leg, and a 
kerfey boot-hose on the other, garter'd with a red and 
blue lift; an old hat, and the humour of forty fancies 
prick'd in't for a feather: a monfter, a very monfter in 
apparel ; and not like a chriftian foot-boy, or a gentle- 
man's lacquey. [ion ; 

IRA. 'Tis fome odd humour pricks him to thisfaQi- 
Yet oftentimes he goes but mean apparel'd. 

3 what to thine 3 Fives 5 Waid 

The Taming of the Sbreiv. 5 1 

SAP. Tarn glad, he's cometl)0licl),howfoe'erhecomes. 

Bio. Why, fir, he comes not. 

BAP. Didft thou not fay, he comes? 

Bio . Who ? that Petruchio came ? 

BAP. Ay, that Petruc bio came. 

5/0. No, fir; I fay, tljat his horfe comes, with him 
On his back. 

BAP. Why, that's all one. 

Bio. Nay, by faint Jamyi I hold you a penny, 
A horfe and a man is more than one, and yet not many. 
Enter PETRUCHIO, and his Man Grumio, 
oddly habited both. 

PET. Come, where be these gallants ere ? who's at 

BAP, You are welcome, fir. [home? 

P?'. And yet J come not wetl. 

BAP. And yet you halt not. 

TKA. Not fo well apparel'd 
As I CCUltl wi(h you were. 

Per. 2Eut! were it better, I mould rum in thus. 

But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride? 

How does my father? Gentles, methinks, you frown. 

And wherefore gaze this goodly company; 
As if they faw fome wond'rous monument, 
Some comet, or unusual prodigy? 

BAP. Why, fir, you know, this is your wedding-day: 
Firft were we fad, fearing you would not come; 
Now fadder, that you come fo unprovided. 
Fie! doff this habit, mame to your eftate, 
An eye-fore to our folemn feftival. 

TRA. And tell us, what occasion of import 
Hath all fo long detain'd you from your wife, 
4nd tent you hither fo unlike yourfelf? 

5* Tide Tamhig of the S&renv. 

PEF. Tedious it were to tell, and harfh to hear; 
Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word: 
Though, in fome part, enforced to digrefs ; 
Which, at more leisure, I will fo excuse 
As you fhall well be fatiffy'd withal, 
But where is Kate ? I ftay too long from her; 
The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church. 

TRA. See not your bride in these unreverent robes; 
Go to my chamber, put<m cloaths of mine. 

fEf. Not I, believe me; thus I'll visit her. 

BA?. But thus, I truft, you will not marry her. 

PET* Good footh, even thus; therefore have done 

with words; 

To me (he's marry'd, not unto my cloaths: 
Could I repair what me will wear in me, 
As I can change these poor accoutrements, 
'Twere well for Katt, and better for myfelf. 
But what a fool am 1, to chat with you, 
When I ftiould bid good morrow to my bride, 
And feal the tide with a lovely kifs ? 

[Exeunt PET. Gru. WBio, 

TRA. He hath fome meaning in his mad attire: 
We will perfuade him, be it poffible, 
To put on better ere he go to church. 

BAP. I'll after him, and fee the event of this. 

[Exeunt BAP. and Attendants. Tranio follc*ws $ 
but is beckmid back by Lucentio, who converfet 
a labile apart. 

TRA. But to fjer love, fir, conoerneth us to add 
Her father's liking: Which to bring to pafs, 
As I before imparted to your worlhip, 
I an) tp get a man, whate'er he be, 

*9 fir, Love 3 'before I 

tte Taming of the Shrew. 53 

It (kills not much; we'll fit him to turn, 
And he (hall be Vincentio of Pi/a; 
And make aflurance, here in Padua, 
Of greater fums than I have promised. 
So (hall you quietly enjoy your hope, 
And marry fvveet Bianco, with confent. 

Luc. Were it not that my fellow fchoolmaftcr 
Doth watch Bianca's fteps fo narrowly, 
'Twere good, methinks, to (leal our marriage; 
Which once perform'd, let all the world fay no, 
I'll keep mine own defpight of all the world. 

TRA. That by degree? we mean to look into, 
And watch our vantage in this businefs: 
We'll over-reach the gjH_y-beard, Gremioj 
The narrow-prying father, Minola; 
The quaint musician, amorous Licio; 

All for my matter's fake, Lucentio. 

Re-enter GREMIO, laughing. 
#3oto, fignior Gremio ! came you from the church? 

GRE. As willingly as e'er I came from fchool. 

TIM. And is the bride and bridegroom coming home ? 

GRE. A bridegroom, fay you ? 'tis a groom, indeed, 
A grumbling groom, and that the girl mall find. 

TRA. Curfter than fhe r why, 'tis impoffible. 

GRE. Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend. 

TRA. Why, (he's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam. 

GRE. Tut! (he's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him. 
I'll tell you, fa Lucentio; When the prieft 
Should aflc if Catherine (hould be his wife, 
Jy, by gogi-<wouns, quoth he; and fwore fo loud, 
That, all amaz'd, the prieft let fall the book: 
And, as he ftoop'd again to take it op, 

54 Ykt faming of the Shrew. 

This mad-brain'd bridegroom took him fuch a cuff, 
Thar down fell prieft: and book, and book and prieft; 
Nona take them up, quoth he, if any lift. 

TRA. What faid the wench, when he rose up again ? 

GRE. Trembl'd, and fhook; for why, he ftamp'd, and 


As if the vicar meant to cozen him. 
But after many ceremonies done, 
He calls for wine: 

A health, quoth he ; as he had been aboard, 
Carowsing to his mates after a ftorm : 
Quafft ofFthe mufcadel, and threw the fops 
All in the fexton's face; having no other reason, 
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly, 
And feem'd to afk him fops as he was drinking. 
This done, he took the bride about the neck; 
And kifT'd her lips with fuch a clamorous fmack, 
That, at the parting, ail the church did eccho. 
I, feeing this, came thence for very flume; 
And after me, I know, the rout is coming: 
Such a mad marriage never was before! 
Hark, hark! I hear the minftrels play. [Muriel. 


marry d; BAPTIST A, GRUMIO, Hortenfio, 

BlANCA, and Train. 

PET. Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for yourpa- 
I know, you think to dine with me to-day, [ins: 

And have prepar'd great ftore of wedding cheer; 
But fo it is, my hafte doth call me hence, 
And therefore here I mean to take my leave. 

A. Js't poffible, you will away to-night? 

PIT. I muft away to-day, before night come; 

o as if he 19 and I 

The Taming of the Shrew. 55 

Make it no wonder; if you knew my businefs, 
You would entreat me rather go than ftay. 
And, honeft company, I thank you all, 
That have beheld me give away myfelf 
To this moft patient, fweet, and virtuous wife : 
Dine with my father, drink a health to me; 
For I muft hence, and farevvel to you all. 

TRA. Let us entreat you ftay 'till after dinner. 

PET. It may not be. 

GRE. Let me entreat you, fir, 

PET. It cannot be. 

CAT. Let me entreat you ten. 

PET. I am content. 

CAT. Are you content to ftay? 

PET. I am content, you mail entreat me flay; 
But yet not ftay, entreat me how you can. 

CAT. Now, if you love me, ftay. 

PxT. Grumio, my horfes. 

GRU. Ay, fir, they be ready; 
The oats have eaten up the horfes. 

CAT. Nay, then, 

Do what thou canft, I will not go to-day; 
No, nor to-morrow, nor 'till I please myfelf. 
The door is open, fir, there lies your way, 
You may be jogging while your boots are green; 
For me, I'll not be gone 'till please myfelf: 
'Tis like, you'll prove a jolly furly groom, 
That take it on you at the firft fo roundly. 

PET. O, Kate, content thee; pr'ythee, be not angry. 

CAT. I will be angry ; What haft thou to do?_ 
Father, be quiet ; he (hall ftay my leisure. 

GRE. Ay, marry, fir, now it begins to work. 

18 horfe *J not till *<5 till 

55 The faming of the Slrew. 

CAT. Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:^ 
I fee, a woman may be made a fool, 
If fhe had not a fpirit to resift. 

PET. They fhall go forward, Kate, at thy command :_^. 
Obey the bride, yea that attend on herj 
Go to the feaft, revel and domineer, 
Carowze full measure to her maidenhead, 
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourfelves; 
But for my bonny Kate, fhe muft with me. 
Nay, look not big, nor flamp, nor flarej nor fret ; 
I will be matter of what is mine own : 
She is my goods, my chattels; fhe is my houfe, 
My houfhold-ftuff, my field, my barn, mj> {table* 
My horfe, my ox, my afs, my any thing; 
And here fhe flands, touch her whoever dare; 
I'll bring mine a&ion on the proudeft he, 
That flops my way in Padua. Grumio, 
Draw forth thy weapon, we're befet with thieves; 
Refcue thy miftrefs, if thou be a man:_^ 
Fear not, fweet wench, they fhall not touch thee, Kate} 
I'll buckler thee againft a million. 

[Exit, hurrying CATHERINE out', GRUMIO, 
ivith his Stcerd drawn, bringing up the Rear, 

SAP. Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones. [ing. 

GRE. Went they not quickly, I fhould die with laugh- 

TRA. Of all mad matches, never was the like!-* 
Miftrefs, what's your opinion of your fitter? 

BIA. That, being mad herfelf, fhe's madly mated. 

GRE. I warrant him, Petrucbio is Kated. 

JP. Neighbours andfriends, though brideand bride- 
groom wants 
For to fupply the places at the table, 

*7 Luc. Miftrelfc, 

The T ami fig of the Shrew. - 

You know, there wants no junkets at the feafl:_ 
Lucentio, you fupply the bridegroom's place; 
And let Bianco, take her lifter's room. 

TRA. Shall fvveet Bianca pradlife how to bride it? 

BAP. She (hall, Lucentio Come, gentlemen; let's go. 


SLT. Sim, When will the fool come again ? 

1 . 5. Anon., my lord. 

SL r . Give's fame more drink here !<where''s the tapjler ? 

Here, Sim, 

Eat feme of these things. [giving him fome Conferves* 
1.5. So I do, my lord. 
Sir. Here, Sim, / drink to thee. [drinks. 

SCENE II. 4Ha/tinPetruchio'sCounty-Hou/e. 

Eater GRUMIO, baiting. 

GRU. Fie, fie, on all tir'd jades! on all mad matters! 
and all foul ways! Was ever man fo beaten? was ever 
man fo 'wray'd ? was ever man fo weary ? I am fent be- 
fore to make a fire, and they are coming after to warn* 
them. Now, were not I a little pot, and foon hot, my 
very lips might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the- 
roof of my mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I mould 
come by a fire to thaw me: But I, with blowing the fire,, 
ihall warm myfelf; for, confidering the weather, a taller 
man than I will take cold. Hola, ho! Curtis ! 

Enter CURTIS. 

CUR. Who is that, calls fo coldly? 
GRU. A piece of ice: If thou doubt it, thou may'ft 
flide from my (houlder to my heel, with no greater a run- 
but my head and my neck. A fire, good Curtit. 

* you fliall fupply 

58 Tie Taming of the Shrew. 

CUR. Is my matter and his wife coming, Grumio? 

GRU. O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore, fire, fire; caft 
on no water. 

CUR. Is fhe fo hot a fhrew as fhe's reported? 

GRU. She was, good Curtis, before this froft: but, 
thou know'ft, winter tames- man, woman, and beaft; for 
it hath tam'd my old mafter, and my new miftrefs, and 
thyfelf, fellow Curtis. 

CUR. Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beaft. 

GRU. Am 1 but three inches ? why, thy horn is a foot ; 
and fo long am I, at the leaft. But wilt thou make a fire, 
or (hall I complain on thee to our miftrefs? whose hand 
(fhe being now at hand) thou fnalt foon feel, to thy cold 
comfort, for being flow in thy hot office. 

CUR. 1 pry thee, good Grumio, tell me, How goes the 

GRU. A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine; 
and therefore, fire : Do thy duty, and have thy duty ; for 
my mafter and miftrefs are almoft frozen to death. 

CUR . There's fire ready ; And therefore, good Gramier, 
the news? [thou wilt. 

GRU. Why, Jack, boy! ho, boy! and as much news as 

CUR. Come, you are fo full of coney-eatching: 

GRU. Why, therefore, fire ; for I have caught extream 
cold. Where's the cook? is fupper ready, thehoofetrim'd, 
ruflies ftrew'd, cobwebs fwept; the fervingmen in their 
new fuftian, their white ftockings, and every officer his 
wedding-garment on? be the jacks fair within, the jills 
fair without, the carpets lay'd, and every thing in or- 

CUR. All ready: And therefore, I pray thee. news? 

GRU. Firft, know, my horfe is tired; my mallet an<t 

* and xnyfclfe 7 the whi.e 

fhe Taming of the Sbre-w. 5 9 

iniftrefs fall'n out. 

CUR. How? 

GRU. Out of their faddles into the dirt; And thereby 
hangs a tale. 

CUR. Let's ha't, good Grumio. 

GRU. Lend thine ear. 

COR. Here. 

GRU. There. \?*ffi*g kirn. 

CUR. This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale 

GRU. And therefore 'tis call'd a fenfible tale: and 
this cuff was bat to knock at your ear, and befeech lift'n- 
ing. Now I begin : Inprimis, we came down a foul hill, 
my matter riding behind my miftrefs :~~ 

CUR . Both on one horfe f 

GRU. What's that to thee ? 

CUR. Why, a horfe. 

GRU. Tell thou the tale: But, hadft thou not crofs'd 
me, thou Ihouldft have heard, how her horfe fell, and 
fhe under her horfe; thou fliouldft have heard, in how 
miry a place: how fhe was bemoil'd; how he left her 
with the horfe upon her; how he beat me because her 
horfe ftumbl'd ; how fhe waded through the dirt to pluck 
him off me; how he fwore; how (he pray'd, that never 
pray'd before: how I cry'd; how the horfes ran away; 
how her bridle was burll; how I loft my crupper; with 
many things of worthy memory; which now (hall die 
in oblivion, and thou return unexperienc'd to thy grave. 

CUR. By this reck'ning, he is more fhrew than fhe. 

GRU. Ay; and that thou and the proudeft of you all 
lhall find, when he comes home. But what talk I of 
this r call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Wal- 
ter, Sugar-fop, and the reit: let their heads be flicklv 

9 This 'tis '4 of one 

60 ? 'be Taming of the Shrew. 

comb'd, their blue coats brufh'd, and their garters of an 
indifferent knot: let them curt'fy with their left legs; 
and not presume to touch a hair of my matter's horfe- 
tail, 'till they kifs their hands. Are they all ready? 

CUR. They are. 

Gnu. Call them forth. 

CUR. Do you hear, ho! [calling.] you muft meet my 
mafter, to countenance my miftrefs. 

GRP. Why, me hath a face of her own. 

CUR. Who knows not that? 

GRU. Thou, it feems ; that call'ft for company to 
countenance her. 

CUR. I call them forth to credit her. 

GRU. Why, fhe comes to bcrrowmothing of them. 
Enter fever al Servants. 

1 . 5. Welcome home, Grumio. 

2.5. How now, Grumio ? 

3. S. What, Grumio. ' 

4. S. Fellow Grumio! 
1.5. How now, old lad? 

GRU. Welcome, you;_how now, you;_what, you ; 
_ fellow, you ;_ and thus much for greeting. Now, my 
fpruce companions, is all ready, and all things neat? 

i. S. All things are ready : How near is our mafter? 

GRU. E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore 
be not, Cock's paffion, filence; I hear my mafter. 

Per. Where be these knaves ? What, no man at t!>e 
To hold my ftirrop, nor to take my horfe! [door, 

Where is Naihaniel, Gregory, Philip r 

Ser. Here, here, fir; 
Here, fir. \crouding round him. 

*knit "calls 

The Taming of the Shrew, g j 

?r. Here, fir! here, fir! here, fir! here, fzr!_ 
You logger-headed and unpolifh'd grooms! 
What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?_ 
Where is the foolifh knave I fent before? 

GRU. Here, fir; as foolifh as I was before. [udge! 
.P.E.r. You peasant fwain! you whorfon malt-horfedr- 
Did I not bid thee meet me in the park, 
And bring along these rafcal knaves with thee? 

GRU. Nathaniel's coat, fir, was not fully made, 
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i'the heel; 
There was no link to colour Peter's hat* 
And Walters dagger was not come from (heathing: 
There were none fine, \s\a\. Adam, Ralph, and Gregory} 
The reft were ragged, old, and beggarly; 
Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you. 
PET. Go, rafcals, go, and fetch my fupper in 

[Exeunt fame of the Servants. Cloth lay'd, 
Where is the life that late I led, fap tl;fg : _ [fags- 

Where are those tillain0?_ Sit down, Kate, and wel- 
come.^. [Jits to Table. 
Soud, foud, foud, foud!__ [wiping himfelf. 

Re-enter Servants, with Supper. 

Why when, I fay ?_Nay, good fweet Kate, be merry._ 

Oft with my boots, you rogues, you villains; When?_ 

// was the friar of orders gray, [fag 1 - 

as he forth walked on his way : [awry : 

Out, out, you rogue! [to the Servant.] you pluck my foot 

Take that, \Jlriking him.} and mend the plucking of the 


Be merry, AT*/:_Some water here; what ho!_ 
Where's my fpaniel Troi /us? Sirrah, get you hence, 
And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither :_ [Exit Ser. 


62 ^be Taming of the Sbrew. 

One, Kate, that you muft kifs, and be acquainted with 
Where are my flippers ?_ Shall I have fome water ?__ 

[Water presented. 
Come, Kate, and warn, and welcome heartily :_ 

[Servant lets the Ewer fall. 
You whorfon villain! will you let it fall ? [ftrikes him. 

CAT. Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling. 

PET. A whorfon, beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave !__ 
Come, Kate, fit down; I know, you have a ilomach. 

[feats her by him. 

Will you give thanks, fweet Kate \ or elfe fhall !?__ 
What is this ? mutton ? 

i.S. Ay. 

PET. Who brought it? 

i.5. I. 

PET. 'Tis burnt; and fo is all the rett o' te meat:_ 
What dogs are these ?_ Where is the rafcal cook?__ 
How durlt you, villains, bring it from the dreffer, 
And ferve it thus to me that love it not? 
There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all; 

[throwing all at them. 

You heedlefs jolt-heads, and unmanner'd flaves! 
What, do you grumbler I'll be with you ftraight. 

CAT. I pray you, husband, be not fo difquiet; 
The meat was wejl, if you were fo contented. 

PET. I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt, and dry'd away; 
And I expreffly am forbid to touch it, 
For it engenders choler, planteth anger: 
And better 'twere, that both of us did fa(!,~ 
Since, of ourfelves, ourfelves are cholerick, 
Than feed it with fuch over-roafted flefh. 
Be patient; to-morrow't fhall be mended, 

The Taming of the Shrew. 61 

And, for this night, we'll faft for company : 
Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber. 
[ Exit, leading out CAT. C V R . 

i. S. [advancing.] Peter, didft ever fee the like? 

5 .5 He kills her 
In her own humour. 

Re-enter CURTIS. 

GRU. Where is he? 

CUR. In her chamber, 
Making a fermon of continency to her : 
And rails, and fwears, and rates; that me, poor foul, 
Knows not which way to Hand, to look, to fpeak; 
And fits as one new-risen from a dream. 
Away, away! for he is coming hither. [Exeunt. 

Re-enter PETRUCHIO. 

PE r. Thus have I politickly begun my reign, 
And 'tis my hope to end fuccefsfully : 
My faulcon now is (harp, and paffing empty ; 
And, 'till me (loop, {he mud not be full-gorg'd, 
For then (he never looks upon her lure. 
Another way I have to man my haggard, , 

To make her come, and know her keeper's call ; 
That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites, 
That bait, and beat, and will not be obedient. 
She eat no meat to-day, nor none (hall eat ; 
Laft night (he flept not, nor to-night (he (hall not: 
As with the meat, fome undeserved fault 
I'll find about the making of the bed; 
And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolder, 
This way the coverlet, another way the meets :~~ 
Ay, and, amid this hurly, I intend, 
That all is done in reverend care of her j 


64 We Taming of the Sktvw. 

And, in conclusion, fhe fhall watch all night: 

And, if (he chance to nod, I'll rail, and brawl, 

And with the clamour keep her flill awake. 

This is a way to kill a wife with kindnefs; 

And thus I'll curb her mad and headftrong humour :_ 

He that knows better how to tame a fhrew, 

Now let him fpeakj'tis charity, to mew. [Exit. 

SCENE I. Padua. Before Baptifta'/ Heufe. 

Enter LUCENTIO, aW BIANCA, courting; and, on 

the opposite Side, TRANIO, </HORTENSIO. 

TRA. Is't poffible, friend Licio, that Bianco. 
Doth fancy any other but Lucentio? 
I tell you, fir, me bears me fair in hand. 

HOR. To fatiffy you, fir, in what I have faid, 
Stand by, and mark the manner of his teaching. 

\they retire. 

Luc. Now, miflrefs, profit you in what you read ? 

BIA. What, mailer, read you ? firfl resolve me that. 

Luc, I read that I profefs, the art to love. 

BIA. And may you prove, fir, mafter of your art! 

Luc. While you, fweet dear, prove miflrefs of my 
heart. [court apart. 

HOR. Marry, quick proceeders ! _ Tell me now, I pray, 

\_ad<v anting. 

You that durfl fwear your miflrefs fair Bianca 
Lov'd none i'the world fo well as ijer Lucentio? 

TRA. Defpightful love! unconflant womankind !_ 
I tell thee, Lido, this is wonderful. 

i? that miftris Bianca '" Sir, to fatisfie you 
7 T. Note, 5o Lov'd me in } Ira. Oh deV 

The Taming of the Sbrpw. 65 

HOR. Miftake no more: I am not Licit, 
Nor a musician, as I feem to be; 
But one that fcorn to live in this difguise, 
For fuch a one as leaves a gentleman, 
And makes a god of fuch a cullion: 
Know, fir, that I am call'd Hcrtenjio. 

TRA. Signior Hartenfio, I have often heard 
Of your entire affedlion to Bianca; 
And fince mine eyes are witnefs of her lightness, 
I will with you, if you be fo contented, 
Forfwear Bianco, and her love for ever. 

Ho R . See, how they kifs and court ! ~Signior Lucent fo, 
Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow 
Never to woo her more; but do forfwear her, 
As one unworthy all the former favours 
That I have fondly flatter'd her withal. 

iTizx. And here I take the like unfeigned oath,~~ 
Never to marry her, though fhe would entreat: 
Fie on her ! fee, how beaftly (he doth court him. 

HOR. 'Would, all the world, but he, had quite for- 

fworn ! 

For me, that I may furely keep mine oath, 
I will be marry'd to a wealthy widow, 
Ere three days pafs; which hath as long lov'd me, 
As I have lov'd this proud difdair.fal haggard : 
And fo farewel, fignior Lucentio 
Kindnefs in women, not their beauteous looks, 
Shall win my love:_and fo I take my leave, 
In resolution as I Avore before. [Exit HOR. 

TRA. Miftrefs Bianca, [pajjixg to tbe other Side.] blefs 

you with fuch grace 
As 'longeth to a lover's blefled cafe! 

>6 flatter'd them w'thall ' 8 marry with her 

66 1 'be Taming of the Strew. 

Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love; 

And have forfworn you, with Hortenfio. [me? 

BIA. Tramo, you jeft; But have you both forfworn 

TRA. Miftrefs, we have. 

Luc. Then we are rid of Lido. 

TRA. I' faith, he'il have a lully widow now, 
That fhall be woo'd and wedded in a day. 

BIA. God give him joy ! 

IRA. Ay, and he'll tame her. 

BIA. He fays fo, Tranio. 

TRA. 'Faith, he is gone unto the taming fchool. 

BIA. The taming fchool ! what, is there fuch a place ? 

TRA. Ay, miilrefs, and Petrucbio is the mafter j 
That teachcth tricks eleven and twenty long, 
TO tame a fhrew, and chatrj^her chattering tongue. 
Enter BIONDELLO, running. 

Bio. O, mailer, mailer, I have watch'd fo long 
That I'm dog-weary ; but at lalt I fpy'd 
An ancient engle coming down the hill, 
Will ferve the turn. 

TRA. What is he, BionMo? 

Bio. Mailer, a mercatante, or a pedant, 
I know not what; but formal in apparel, 
In gajt and countenance furely like a father. 

Luc . What of him , Tranio ? 

TRA. If he be credulous, and truft my tale, 
I'll make him glad to feem Vincentio ; 
And give aflurance to Baptijla Mine/a, 
As if he were the right Vincentio. 
Take in your love, and then let me alone. 

[Exeunt Luc. and BIA, 
Enter a Pedant. 

>9 Angel 12 Marcantant *5 Luc, And what J Take me your 

The Taming of tie Shrew. 67 

Ped. God fave you, fir '. 

TRA. And you, fir! you are welcome. 
Travel you far on, or are you at the fartheft ? 

Ped. Sir, at the fartheft, for a week or two: 
But then up farther; and as far as Rome; 
And fo to Tripoly, if God lend me life. 

TRA. What countryman, I pray? 

Ped. Of Mantua. 

TRA. Of Mantua, fir? marry noto, God forbid! 
And come to Padua, carelefs of your life? 

Ped. My life, fir ! how, I pray? for that goes hard. 

TRA. 'Tis death for any one in Mantua 
To come to Padua ; Know you not the cause? 
Your (hips are ftay'd at Venice; and the duke, 
For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him, 
Hath publifh'd and proclaim'd it openly: 
'Tis marvel; but that you're but newly come, 
You might have heard it elfe proclaim'd about. 

Ped. Alas, fir, it is worfe for me than fo; 
For I have bills for money by exchange 
From Florence, and muft here deliver them. 

TRA. Well, fir, to do you courtefy ijetcin, 
This will I do, and this 1 will advise you; 
Firit, tell me, have you ever been at Pi/a? 

Ped. Ay, fir, in Pifa have I often been ; 
Pi/a, renowned for grave citizens. 

TRA. Among them, know you one Fincentio? 

Ped. I know him not, but I have heard of him; 
A merchant of incomparable wealth. 

TRA. He is my father, fir; and, footh to fay, 
In count'nance fomewhat doth resemble you. [one." 
Bio. " As much as an apple doth an oifter, and all 

68 The Taming of the Shrew. 

TRA. To fave your life in this extremity, 
This favour will I do you for his fake; 
And think it not the word of all your fortunes, 
That you are like to fir Vincentio. 
His name and credit fhall you undertake, 
And in my houfe you (hall be friendly lodg'd ;~~ 
Look that you take upon you as you fhould; 
You underftand me, fir; fo fhall you flay, ' 
'Till you have done your businefs in the city : 
If this be court'fy, fir, accept of it. 

Ped. O, fir, I do; and will repute you ever 
The patron of ray life and liberty. 

TRA. Then go with me, to make the matter good. 
This, by the way, I let/you underftand; 
My father is here loolc'd for every day, 
To pafs aflurance of a dower in marriage 
'Twixt me and one B optima's daughter here: 
In all these circumftances I'll inftruft you. 
Go with me, fir, to cloath you as becomes you. 


SCENE II. A Room in Petruchio'^ Houfe. 

Enter GRUMIO, C A T H E R i N E following. 
GRU. No, no, forfooth; I dare not for my life. 
CAT. The more my wrong, the more his fpite ap- 

Whnt, did he marry me to famifh me? 
Beggars, that come unto my father's door, 
Upon entreaty, have a present alms; 
Jf not, elfewhere they meet with charity: 
But I, who never knew how to entreat, 
Nor never needed that I fhould entreat,-" 

The Taming of the Shrew. 69 

Am ftarv'd for meat, giddy for lack of fleep; 
With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed: 
And that which fpites me more than all these wrongs, 
He does it under name of perfeft love; 
As who fhould fay, if I mould fleep, or eat, 

'Twere deadly ficknefs, or elfe present death 

I pr'ythee, go, and get me fome repaft ; 
I care not what, fo it be wholfome food. 

GRU. What fay you to a neat's foot? 

CAT. 'Tis paffing good; I pr'ythee, let ine have it. 

GRU. I fear, it is too phlegmatick a meat: 
How fay you to a fat tripe, finely broil'd? 

CAT. 1 like it well ; good Grumio, fetch it me. 

GRU. I cannot tell; 1 fear, 'tis cholerick. 
What fay you to a piece of beef, and muftard? 

CAT. A dim that 1 do love to feed upon. 

GRU. Ay, but the muftard is too hot a little. 

CAT. Why, then the beef, and let the muftard reft. 

GRU. Nay, then I will not; you fhall have the muftard, 
Or elfe you get no beef of Grumio. 

CAT. Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt. 

GRU. Why, then the muftard noto without the beef. 

CAT. Go, get thee gone, thou falfe deluding flave, 

[beating him. 

That feed'ft me with the very name of meat: 
Sorrow on thee, and all the pack of you, 
That triumph thus upon my misery! 
Go, get thee gone, I fay. 

Enter PETRUCHIO ivith a Dijh of Meat '; 
HORTENSIO ijatth him. 

PT.T. How fares my Kate ? What, fvveeting, all amort? 

HOR. Miftrefs, what cheer? 

JO The Taming of the Shri<w. 

CAT. 3['faith, as cold as can be. 

PET. Pluck up thy fpirits, look cheerfully upon me. 
Here, love; thou fee'il how diligent I am, 

[Jetting bis Dijh upon a Table. 
To drefs thy meatjnyfelf, and bring; it thee: 
I am fare, fweet Kate, this kindnelVmerits thanks. 
What, not a word? Nay then, thou lov'il it not; 

And all my pains is forted to no proof: 

Here, take away this dilh. 

C^if. I pray you, let it ftand. 

Pzf. The pooreft fervice is repay'd with thanks; 
And fo mall mine, before you touch the meat. 

Cjtr. I thank you, fir. 

HOR. Signior Petruthio, fie! you are to blame _ 
Come, miftrefs Katsfi'll bear you company. 

[Jits to Table along nvitb her. 

PET. " Eat it up all, ILitenfio, if thou lov'ft me." 

frJotO much good do't unto thy gentle heart! 
Kate, eat apace: And now, my honey love, 
Will we return unto thy father's houfe; 
And revel it as bravely as the beft, 
With filken coats, and caps, and golden rings, 
With ruffs, and cuffs, and fardingals, and things; 
With fcarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery, 
With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. 

[Cat. and Hor. rite. 
What, haft thou din'd? The tailor ftays thy leisure, 

To deck thy body with his rulliing treasure 

Enter Tailor e vuitb a Gj-uaa. 
Come, tailor, let us fee these ornaments ; 

Enter Haberdaiher. 
Lay forth the gown What news with you, fir? I/a: 

*8 r.-ffiing 

Tie Taming of tie Shrew. i 

Hab. Here is the cap ~J~ your worfhip did befpeak. 

PET. Why, this was molded on a porrenger; 
A velvet difh; fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy; 
Why, 'tis a cockle, or a walnut-fliell, 
A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap; 
Away with it, come, let me have a bigger. 

CAT. I'll have no bigger; this doth fit the time, 
And gentlewomen wear fuch caps as these. 

PET. When you are gentle, you mail have one too, 
And not 'till then. 

HOR. " That will not be in hafte," 

CAT. Why, fir, I truft, I may have leave to fpeak; 
And fpeak I will ; I am no child, no babe: 
Your betters have endur'd me fay my mind; 
And, if you cannot, beft you flop your ears. 
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart; 
Or elfe my heart, concealing it, will break: 
And, rather than it (hall, I will be free, 
Even to the uttermoft, as I please, in words. 

PET. Why, thou fay'ft true; it is a paltry cap, 
A cu Hard coffin, a bauble, a filken pye : 
I love thee well, in that thou lik'ft it not. 

CAT. Love me, or love me not, I like the cap ; 
And it I will have, or I will have none. 

PET. Thy gown ? why, ay :_come, tailor, let us fee't. 
[Tailor lays forth the Gown. 
O, mercy, God! what mafking fluff is here! 
What's this? a fleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon: 
What! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart? 
Here's fnip, and nip, and cut, and flifh, and flafh, 
Like to a cenfer in a barber's fliop:_ 
Why, what, o'devil's name, tailor, call'ft thou this? 

72 The laming of the Shrew. 

HOR. "I fee, fhe's like to have neither cap nor gown." 

Tat, You bid me make it orderly and well, 
According to the fafhion, and the time. 

P-Er. Marry, and did; but, if you be remember'd, 
] did not bid you mar it to the time. 
Go, hop me over every kennel home, 
For you lhall hop without my cuflom, fir: 
I'll none of it; hence, make your beft of it. 

C^ir. I never faw a better faihion'd gown, 
More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable: 
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me. 

PET. Why, tt;ue ; he means to make a puppet of thee* 

Tai. She fayi, your worfhip means to make a pup- 
pet of her. [ead, thou thimble, 

PET. O monftrous arrogance! Thou ly'ft, thou thr- 

Thcu yard, three quarters, half yard, quarter, nail, 
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou:_ 
Brav'd in mine own houfe with a fkein of thread!_ 
A\vay, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant; 
Or I (hall fo be-mete thee with thy yard, 
As thou (halt think on prating whilft thou liv'lt! 
J veil thee, I, that thou haft mar'd her gown. 

'fai. Your worfliip is deceiv'd ; the gown is made 
Juft as my matter had direction: 
(. : .run:io gave order how it (hould be done. 

GRU. I gave him no order, I gave him the fluff. 

Tai. But how did you desire it fhould be made? 

GRU. Marry, fir, with needle and thread. 

Tai. But did you not requefl to have it cut? 

GRU. Thou haft fac'd many things. 

Tai. I have. 

CRU. Face not me: thou haft brav'd many men; brave 

The Taming of the Shrew. ji 

not me; I will neither be fac'd nor brav'd. I fay unto 
thee, I bid thy matter cut out the gown; but I did not 
bid him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou ly'ft. 

Tai. Why, here is "f the note of the fafhion to teftify. 

PET. Read it. 

GRU. The note lies in's throat, if he fay I faid fo. 

Tai. Inprimis, a loofe-body 1 d go<wn : [reading. 

CRU. Mafter, if ever I faid loofe-body'd gown, fow 
me in the fkirts of it, and beat me to death with a bot-, 
torn of brown thread: I faid, a gown. 

PET. Proceed. 

Tai. With afmall compaft cape ; 

GRU. I confefs the cape. 

Tai. With a trunk flee <ve ; 

GRU. I confefs two fleeves. 

Vat. The fleeves curioujly cut. 

PET. Ay, there's the villany. 

GRU. Error i' th' bill, fir; error i'th'bill-_I com- 
manded the fleeves mould be cut out, and fow'd up a- 
gain; and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little 
finger be armed in a thimble. 

Tai. This is true, that I fay ; an I had thee in place 
where, thou fhould'ft know it. 

GRU. I am for thee ftraight: take thou the bill, give 
me thy mete-yard, and fpare not me. 

HOR. God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he flull have no 

PET. Well, fir, in brief, the gown is not for me. 

GRU. You are i'th'right, fir; 'tis for my miftrefs. 

PET. Go, take it up unto thy matter's ufe. 

GRU. Villain, not for thy life: Take up my miftrefs' 
gown for thy matter's ufe ! 

74 Sfik Taming of the Sbreva. 

PET. Why, fir, what's your conceit in that? 

GRU. O, fir, the conceit is deeper than you think 
for: Take up my miftrefs' gown to his mailer's ufe! O, 
fie, fie, fie ! 

PET. " Morten/to, fay, thou'lt fee the tailor pay'd:" 

Go, take it hence; be gone, and fay no more. 

HOR . " Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow." 
" Take no unkindnefs of his hafty words:" 
" Away, I fay; commend me to thy mailer." 

[Exit Tailor. 

PET. Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your fath- 
Even in these honeft mean habiliments; [er's, 

Our purfes mall be proud, our garments poor: 
For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich ; 
And as the fun breaks through the darkeft clouds, 
So honour peereth in the meaneil habit. 
What, is the jay more precious than the lark, 
Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
Or is the adder better than the- eel, 
Because his painted flcin contents the eye? 
O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worfe 
For this poor furniture, and mean array. 
If thou account'ft it fhame, lay it on me : 
And therefore, frolick; we will hence forthwith* 
To feaft and fport us at thy father's houfe 
Go, call my men, and let us ftraight to him; 
And bring our horfes unto Long- lane end, 
There will we mount, and thither walk afoot. _ 
Let's fee; I think, 'tis now fome feven o'clock, 
And well we may come there by dinner-time. 

CAT. I dare affure you, fir, 'tis almoft two; 
And 'twill be fupper-time, ere you come there. 

*} accounted^ 

The Tatliing of the Shrew. j - 

, PET. It fhall be feven, ere I go to horfe: 
Look, what I fpeak, or do, or think to do, 
You are ftill eroding it._Sirs, let't alone: 
I will not go to-day; or, ere I do, 
It fhall be what o'clock I fay it is. 

HOR. Why, fo! this gallant will command the fun. 


SCENE III. Padua. Before Baptifta'j Houfe. 
Enter TRANIO; and the Pedant, booted, and 

drejl like Vincentio. 

TRA. Sir, This is the houfe; Please it you, that I call . ? 
Ped. Ay, Cr; What elfe ? and, but I be deceiv'd, 
Signior Baptifta may remember me, 
Near twenty years ago, in Genoa: 

TRA. Where you were lodgers at the Pegafus. 
'Tis well ; and hold your own, in any cafe, 
With rfich aufterity as 'longeth to a father. 


Ped. I warrant you: But, fir, here comes your boy; 
'Twere good, tfjat he were fchool'd, 

TRA. Fear you not him._ 
Sirrah Biondello* 

Now do your duty throughly, I advise you; 
Imagine 'twere the right Pincentio. 
Bio. Tut! fear not me. 

T'RA. But haft thou done thy errand to Baptifla? 
Bio. I told him, that your father was at renice ; 
And that you look'd for him this day in Padua. 

TRA. Thou'rt a tall fellow; hold thee that={=to drink. 
Here comes Baptifta:-.kt your countenance, fir._ 

4 day, and ere Sirs, & Where we were 

76 Tit Taming of the Shrew. 

Signior Baptijla, you are happily met : _ 

Sir, [/o ike Pedant. 

This is the gentleman I told you of; 

I pray you, ftand good father to me now, 

Give me Bianca for my patrimony. 

Ped. Soft, fon!_ 

Sir, by your leave ; having come to Padua 
To gather in fome debts, my fon Lucentio 
Made me acquainted with a weighty cause 
Of love between your daughter and himfelf: 
And, for the good report I hear of you ; 
And for the love he beareth to your daughter, 
And (he to him, to ftay him not too long, 
I am content, in a good father's care, 
To have him match'd; and, if you please to like 
No worfe than I, fir, upon fome agreement, 
Me (hall you find moft ready and moft willing 
With one confent to have her fo beftow'd: 
For curious I cannot be with you, 
Signior Baptifta, of whom I hear fo well. 

BJP. Sir, pardon me in what I have to fay; 
Your plainnefs, and your fhortnefs, please me well. 
Right true it is, your fon Lucentio here 
Doth love my daughter, and fhe loveth him, 
Or both diflemble deeply their affections : 
And, therefore, if you fay no more than this, * 
That like a father you will deal with him, 
And pafs my daughter a fufficient dower, 
The match is made, and all is done toitl) me, 
Your fon (hall have my daughter with confent. 

TS.A. I thank you, fir : Where then do you know beft, 
We be affy'd; and fuch aflurance ta'en, 

T&e Taming of the Shrew. +j 

As (hall with either part's agreement {fond ? 

BAP. Not in my houfe, Lucent :o; for, you kndw, 
Pitchers have ears, and I have many fervants : 
Befides, old Gremio is hark'ning fliil ; 
And, hapily, we might be interrupted. 

TRA. Then at my lodging, an it like you, fir: 
There doth my father lye; and there, this night, 
We'll pafs the businefs privately and well : 
Send for your daughter by your fervant here, 
My boy mail fetch the fcrivener presently. 
The worft is this, that, at fo flender warning, 
You're like to have a thin and flender pittance. 

BAP. It likes me well : (So, Cambio, hie you home, 

And bid Bianca make her ready ftraight: 
And, if you will, tell what hath happened ; 
Lucentio's father is arriv'd in Padua, 
And how {he's like to be Lucentio's wife. 

Luc. I pray the gods ihe may, with all my heart. 

TRA* Dally not with the gods, but get chee gone... . 
Signior Jiaptijia, fhall I lead the way ? 
Come, fir; one mefs is like to be your cheer; 
We'll better it in Pi/a. 

BAP. I follow you. [Exeunt TRA. Fed. anJRAP. 

Bio. Gambia, [calling Lucentio back. 

Luc. What fay'ft thou, Bionddlo? 

Bio. You faw my mafter wink and laugh upon you? 

Luc. Biondello, what of that? 

Bio. 'Faith, nothing ; But h'as left me here behind, 
to expound the meaning or moral of his figfls and tokens. 

Luc. I pray thee, moralize them. 

Bio. Then thus. Baptijla is fafe, talking with the 
deceiving father of a deceitful fon. 

t Bin. I pray * v, Nat. 


78 T&e Taming of the Shrew, 

Lvc. And what of him ? [fupper. 

Bio. His daughter is to be brought by you to the 

Lvc. And then? 

Bio. The old prieft at faint Lukis church is at your 
command at all hours. 

Luc. And what of all this ? 

Bio. I cannot tell; except, tolnle they are busy'd a- 
bout a counterfeit affurance, take you affurance of her, 
cum priviltgio ad imprimendum Jolum : to the church take 
the prieft, clerk, and fome fufficient honeft witnefles: 
If this be not that you look for, I have no more to fay, 
But, bid Bianca farewel for ever and a day. [going, 

Luc. Hear'ft thou, Eiondello? 

Bio. I cannot tarry: I knew a wench marry 'd in an 
afternoon, as fhe went to the garden for parfly to fluff a 
rabbet; and fo may you, fir; and fo adieu, fir. My maf- 
ter hath appointed me to go to faint Lute's, to bid the 
prieft be ready to come againft you come with your ap- 
pendix. [Exit. 

Luc I may, and will, if me be fo contented : 
She will be pleas'd, Then wherefore mould I doubt? 
Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her ; 
It (hall go hard, if Gambia go without her. [Exit. 


SCENE I. A publick Read. 


PET. Come on, o' God's name; once more toward 

our father's. 
Good Lord, how bright and goodly fhines the moo r 

Tit faming of the Shrew. 79 

CAT. The moon ! the fun ; it is not moon-light now. 
PET. I fay, it is the moon that mines fo bright. 
CAT. I know, it is the fun that ihines fo bright. 
PET. Now, by my mother's fon, and that's myfelf, 
It (hall be moon, or ftar, or what 1 lift, 

Or ere I journey to your father's houfe : 

Go on, and fetch our horfes back again 

Evermore croft, and croft ; nothing but croft ! 
HOR. " Say as he fays, or we (hall never go." 
CAT. Forward, I pray, fince we have come fo far, 
And be it moon, or fun, or what you please: 
And if you please to call it a rufh-candle, 
Henceforth I vow it (hall be fo for me. 
PET. I fay, it is the moon. 
CAT. I know, it is the moon. 
PET. Nay, then, you lie; it is the bleffed fun. 
CAT. Then, God be bleft, it is the blefled fun : 
But fun it is not, when you fay it is not; 
And the moon changes even as your mind. 
What you will have it nam'd, even that it is; 
And fo it mail be, fir, for Catherine. 

HOR. " Petruchio, go thy ways, the field is won." 
PET. Well, forward, forward: thus the bowl mould 


And not unluckily againft the bias.__ 
But foft; fome company is coming here._ 
Enter V I N c E N T I o, jour Key ing. 
Good morrow, gentle miftrefs: Whither away?_ 
Tell me, fweet Kate, and tell me truly too, 
Haft thou beheld a fremer gentlewoman ? 
Such war of white and red within her cheeks! 
What ftars do fpangle heaven with fuch beauty, 

i be fo for li! where away 

80 The taming of the Shrew. 

As those two eyes become that heavenly face ?_ 

Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee: 

Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's fake. 

HOR. " 'A will make the man mad, to make a wo-" 
" man of him." [eet, 

CAY. Young budding virgin, fair, and frefh, and fw- 
Whither away; or where is thy abode? 
Happy the parents of fo fair a child ; 
Happier the man, whom favourable liars 
Allot thee for his lovely bedfellow ! 

PET. Why, how now, Kate! I hope, thou art not mad: 
This is a man, old, wriakl'd, faded, wither'd; 
And not a maiden, as thou fay'ft he is. 

CAT. Pardon, old father, my miftaking eyes, 
That have been fo bedazzl'd with the fun, 
That every thing I look on feemeth green : 
Now I perceive, thou art a reverend father; 
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad miftaking. 

PET. Do, good old grand-fire; and, withal, make 


Which way thou travel'ft: if along with us, 
We (hall be joyful of thy company. 

Vim. Fair fir, and you my merry miftrefs f)Crf, 

That with your ftrange encounter much amaz'd mej 
My name is call'd Vincentio, dwelling Pi/a: 
And bound I am to Padua; there to visit 
A fon of mine, which long f have not feen. 

P r r. What is his name? 

FIN. Lucentio, gentle fir. 

PET. Happily met; the happier for thy fon. 
And now by law, as well as reverend age, 
I may entitle thee my loving father ; 

* Alois S my dwelling 

The Taming of the Sbrew. g , 

The fifter to my wife, this ~f gentlewoman, 
Thy fon by this hath marry'd: Wonder not, 
Nor be not griev'd; (he is of good etteem, 
Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth; 
Befide, fo qualify'd as may befeem 
The fpouse of any noble gentleman. 
Let me embrace with old Vinctntio: 
And wander we to fee thy honeft fon, 
Who will of thy arrival be full joyous. 

r/w. But is this true? or is it elfe your pleasure, 
Like pleasant travellers, to break a jell 
Upon the company you overtake? 

HOR. I do allure thee, father, fo it is. 

?r. Come, go along, and fee the truth hereof; 
For our firft merriment hath made thee jealous. 

[Exeunt CAT. PET. anJVltt. 

HOR. Well, fie Petruchio, this has put me in heart: 
Have to my widow ; and if fhe be froward, 
Then haft thou taught Hortenfio be untoward. [Exit. 

SCENE II. Padua. Before Tranio'j Houfe. 
Enter BIONDELLO, with LUCENTIO and Bianca, haftily\ 

GREMIO isfeen entering, behind. 
Bio. Softly and fwittly, fir ; for the prieft is ready. 
Luc I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need 
thee at home, therefore leave us. [Exit, 'with Bianca. 
Bio. Nay, 'faith, I'll fee the church o'your back; and 
then come back to my mailer's as foon as I can. [Exit. 
GRE. 1 marvel, Gambia comes not all this while. 

and Attendants. 
PET. Sir, here's the door, this~j~is Lucentio'i> houfe, 

'9 ILrttnJie to be *8 miflris 


8* Tbt Taming of tie Shrew. 

My father's bears more toward the market place; 
Thither muft I, and here I leave you, fir. 

Viy. You fhall not choose but drink before you go; 
I think, I fhall command your welcome here, 
And, by all likelihood, fome cheer is toward. 

[Noise ^within. Vin. knocks, 

GRE. They're busy within, you were beft knock lou- 
der, [knocks again. 
Enter Pedant, above, at a Window. 

Ped. What's he, that knocks as he would beat down 
the gate? 

VIN. Is fignior Lucentio within, fir? 

Fed. He's within, fir, but not to be fpoken withal. 

FIN. What if a man bring him a hundred pound or 
two, to make merry withal ? 

Ptd. Keep your hundred pounds to yourfelf; he lhall 
need none, fo long as I live. 

PE T. Nay, I told you, your fon was well belov'd in 
Padua Do you hear, fir, to leave frivolous circum- 
ftances, I pray you, tell fignior Lucentio, that his father 
is come from Pi/a, and is here at the door to fpeak with 

Ped. Thou ly'fl; his father is come from" Man- 
tua," and here looking out at the window. 

PIN. Art thou his father? 

Ped. Ay, fir ; fo his mother fays, if I may believe her. 

PET. Why, how now, gentleman! [to Vin.] why, this 
is flat knavery, to take upon you another man's name. 

Ped. Lay hands on the villain ; I believe, 'a means to 
cozen fomebody in this city under my countenance. 
Re enter BIONDELLO. 

Bio. I have feen them in the church together; God, 

*3 fnyn f^dua, 

The Taming of the Shrew. gj 

fend 'em good ftiipping!_But who is here? [drawing 
Backward.] mine old mafter Vincentio? now we're un- 
done and brought to nothing. 

FIN. Come hither, crack-hemp, [feeing Biondello. 

Bio. I hope, I may choose, fir. 

VIN. Come hither, you rogue; What, have you for- 
got me? 

Bio . Forgot you ? no, fir : I could not forget you, for 
I never faw you before in all my life. 

PIN. What, you notorious villain, didft thou never 
fee thy matter's father Vincentio? 

Bio. What, my worfhipful old mafler? yes, marry, 
fir; fee, where he looks out of the window. 

^7#. Is't fo, indeed? [heats Biondello. 

Bio. Help, help, help! here's a madman will mur, 
ther me. [Exit, crying cut. 

Ped. Help, fon! help, fignior Baptifta! 

[Exit, from above. 

PET. Pr'ythee, Kate, let's (land afide, and fee the end 
of this controversy. [draws her afede. 

Re-enter Pedant, below, TRANIO, 
BAPTISTA, and Servants. 

TRA. Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my fervant ? 

Viw. What am I, fir? nay, what are you, fir? O im- 
mortal gods ! [jur<veyin himJ\ O fine villain ! A filken 
doublet ! a velvet hose! a fcarlet cloak! and a copatain 
hat! O, I'm undone, I'm undone! while I play the 
good husband at home, my fon and my fervant fpcnd 
011 at the univerfity. 

T$A. How now ! what's the matter note ? 

BAP. What, is the man lunatick? 

$T.*4. Sir, you feem a fober andentgentleman by your 

aming of the Shrew. 

habit, but your words mew you a madman: Why, fir, 
what concerns it you, if I wear pearl and gold ? I thank 
jny good father, I am able to maintain it. 

Viv. Thy father ?_O villain ! _ he's a fail-maker in 

BAP. You miftake, fir; you miftake, fir: Pray, what 
do you think is his name? 

FIN. His name? as if I knew not his name: I have 
brought him up ever fince he was three years old, and 
his name is Tranio. 

Ped. Away, away, mad afs! his name is, Lucentio', 
and he is mine only fon, and heir to the lands of me fig- 
nior Vincentio. 

VIN. Lucentio! o, he hath murther'd his mafter!_. 

Lay hold on him, I charge you in the duke's name:_ 
O my fon, my fon! tell me, thou villain, where is my 
fon Lucentio? 

TRA. Call forth an officer:_[>?/*r One with an Officer] 
carry this mad knave to the jail: father Baptifta, I 
charge you, fee that he be forth-coming. 

Vm, Carry me to the jail! 

GRE. Stay, officer; he mall not go to prison. 

BAP. Talk not, lignior Gremio; I fay, he mall go to 

GRE. Take heed, iignior Baptifla, left you be coney- 
catch'd in this businefs ; I dare fwear, this is the right 

Ped. Swear, if thou dar'ft. 

GRE. Nay, I dare not fwear it. 

TRA. Then thou wert beft fay, that I am not Lucentio. 

GRE. Yes, I know thee to be fignior Lucent io. 

BAP. Away wich the dotard; to the jail with him. 

'The Taming of the Shrew, fc- 

fitr. Thus ftrangers may be hal'd and abus'd: O 

monftrous villain ! 

Re-enter BIONDEI.LO, with LUCENTIO, 
and B I A N c A . 

Bio. O, we are fpoil'd, and Yonder he is; deny 
him, forfwear him, or elfe we are all undone 

Luc. Pardon, fweet father. [kneels to Via. 

Vis. Lives my fweet fon ? 

[Bio. TRA. WPed. run of. 

BIA. Pardon, dear father. \kneels to Bap. 

BAP. How haft thou offended ?_ 
Where is Lucentio? 

Luc. Here's Lucentio, 
Right fon unto the right Vincentio\ 
That have by marriage made thy daughter mine, 
While counterfeit fupposes blear'd thine eyne. 

GRE. Here's packing, with a witnefs, todeceive us all! 

Vix. Where is that damned villain, Tranio, 
That fac'd and brav'd me in this matter fo? 

BAP. Why, tell me, is not this my Gambia? 

BIA. Cambio is chang'd into Lucentio? 

Luc. Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love 
Made me exchange my ftate with Tranio, 
While he did bear my countenance in the town; 
And happily I have arriv'd at laft 
Unto the wiflied haven of my blifs: 
What Tranio did, myfelf enforc'd him to; 
Then pardon him, fweet father, for my fake. 

Fix. I'll flit the villain's nose, that would have fent 
me to the jail. 

BAP. But do you hear, fir? [to Luc.] have you mar- 
ry 'd my daughter without alking my good will? 

86 The Taming of tie Shrew. 

Vis. Fear not, Baptijla; we will content you, go to: 
_But I will in, to be reveng'd for this villany. 

BAP. And I, to found the depth of this knavery. 

[Exit BAP. 

Lvc. Look not pa\e,Bianca' } thy father will not frown. 
[Exeunt Luc. and B I A . 

GRE. My cake is dough : But I'll in among the reft; 
Out of hope of all, but my (hare of the feaft. 


CAT. Husband, let's follow, to fee the end of this ado. 
PET. Firft kifs me, Kate, and we will. 
C^T. What, in the midft of the ftreet? 
PET. What, art thou afham'd of me? 
CAT:. No, fir; (God forbid !) but alham'd to kifs. 
PET. Why, then let's home again :_ Come, firrah, 

let's away. 
CAT. Nay, I'll give thee a kifs: [kijjes him.] now 

pray thee, love, ftay. 

PET. Is not this well ? _ Come, my fweet Kate; 
Better once than never, for never too late. [Exeunt. 

Lor. Who's nuithin there? [feeing Sly afleep. 

Enter Servants. 

AJleep again! _ go, take him easily up, 
And put him in his own apparel again ; 
But jee you wake him not in any cafe. 

1 . S. // jhall be dene, my lord: _ Come, help to tear him 
hence. [Exeunt Ser. with Sly. 

SCENE III. The fame. A Room in the Hou/e. 
Uuiick. A Banket Jet out. Enter B A P T i s T A , 

The Taming of the Sbreiu. $j 

HORTENSIO, and Widow: TRANIO, Grumio, 

B i o N D E L LO, and Others, attending. 
Luc. At laft, though long, our jarring notes agree: 
And time it is, when raging war is done, 
To fmile at'fcapes and perils overblown. 
My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome, 
While I with felf-fame kindnefs welcome thine:. 

Brother Petrucbio, filler Catberina, 

And thou, Hortenjio, with thy loving widow, _ 
Feaft with the beft, and welcome to my houfe; 
My banquet is to close our ftomacks up, 
After our great good cheer : Pray you, fit down ; 
For now we fit to chat, as well as eat. 

[Company Jit to Table. 

PET. Nothing but fit and fit, and eat and eat. 
BAP . Padua affords this kindnefs, fon Petrucbio. 
PKT. Padua affords nothing but what is kind. 
HOR. For both our fakes, I would that word were true. 
PET. Now, for my life, Hortenjio fears his widow. 
Wid. Then never truft me, if I be afeard. 
PET. You are veryfenfible, and yet you mifs myfenfej 
I mean, Hortenfto is afeard of you. 

Wid. He that is giddy, thinks the world turns round. 
PET. Roundly reply'd. 
C^f. Miftrefs, how mean you that ? 
Wid. Thus I conceive by him:~~ 
PET. Conceive by me !_ 
How likes Hortenjio that? 
HOR. My widow fays, 
Thus fhe conceives her tale. 

6 is come, *9 Conceives 

88 Tbe taming of the Shrew. 

Pzr. Very well mended-.^ 
Kifs him for that, good widow. 

CAT:. He that is giddy, thinks the world turns round : 
I pray you, tell me what you meant by that. 

Wid. Your husband, being troubl'd with a fhrew, 
Measures my husband's forrow by his woe : 
And now you know my meaning. 

CAT. A very mean meaning. 

Wid. Right, I mean you. 

CAT. And I am mean indeed, 
Refpefting you. 

PET. To her, Kate! 

HOR. To her, widow! 

PET. A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down. 

HOR. That is my office. 

PET. Spoke like an officer :~ 
Ha' to thee, lad. [drinks to him. 

BAP. Slnll how likes Gremio these quick-witted folks? 

GRE. Believe me, fir, they but fceaTJ0 well together. 

Si A. $cto! head, and but? an hafty-witted body 
Would fay, your head and but were head and horn. 

FIN. Ay, miflrefs bride, hath that awaken'd you? 

BIA. Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll fleep a- 

PET. Nay, that you {hall not; fince you have begun, 
Have at you for a bitter jefl or two. 

BIA. Am I your bird ? I mean to mift my bum, 

And then purfue me as you draw your bow: [rising. 

You're welcome all. [Exit; CAT. and Wid._/o//ow. 

Pi. T. She hath prevented me Here, fignior franio, 

This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not; 

'9 together well *6 better 

T'be faming of the Slrew. fy 

Therefore, a health to all that ftiot and miffM. [drinks. 

TRA. O, fir, Lucentio flipt me like his grey-hound, 
Which runs himfelf, and catches for his mailer. 

PET. A good fwift fimile, but fomething currifli. 

TRA. 'Tis well, fir, that you hunted for yourfelf; 
'Tis thought, your deer does hold you at a bay. 

BAP. Oh ho, Petrucbio, Tranto hits you now. 

Luc. I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio. 

HOR. Confefs, confefs, hath he not hit you here? 

PET. 'A has a little gall'd me, I confefs; 
And, as the jeft did glance away from me, 
'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two out-right. 

BAP. Now, in good fadnefs, fon Petruchio, 
I think thou haft the verieft fhrew of all. 

PET. Well, I fay no: and therefore, for afTurance, 
H3lea0e you, let's each one fend unto his wife; 
And he, whose wife is moft obedient 
To come at firil when he doth fend for her, 
Shall win the wager which we will propose. 

HOR. Content; The wager? 

Luc. Twenty crowns. 

PET. Twenty crowns! 
I'll venture fo much on my hawk, or hound, 
But twenty times fo much upon my wife. 

Luc. A hundred then. 

Ho R. Content. 

PET. A match; 'tis done. 

HOR. Who (hall begin? 

Luc. That will I._Qere, tol;ere are mi? 
Go, Biondello, bid your miftrefs come to me. 

Bio. I go. [Exit. 

BAP. Son, I will be your half, Bianca comes. 

it too out- *' Content, what's the 

$0 Ybt Taming of the SbrevO. 

Luc. I'll have no halves ; I'll bear it all myfelf. ^ 

Re-enter BIONDELLO. 
How now! what news? 

Bio. Sir, my miftrefs fends you word 
That me is busy, and fhe cannot come. 

PET. How ! me is busy, and fhe cannot come! 
Is that an anfwer? 

GRE. Ay, and a kind one too: 
Pray God, fir, your wife fend you not a worfe. 

PET. I hope, a better. 

HOR. Sirrah Biendello, go, and entreat my wife 
To come to me forthwith. [Exit Bio. 

PET. Oh ho, entreat her! 
Nay, then (he muft needs come. 

HOR. I am afraid, fir, 
Do what you can, yours will not be entreated. _ 

Re-enter BIONDELLO. 
Now, where's my wife ? 

Bio. She fays, you have fome goodly jeft in hand, 
She will not come; fhe. bids you come to her. 

PET. Worfe and worfe ; 
She will not come ! o vile, intolerable, 
Not to be endur'd!_U;ere, firrah Grumio, 
Go to your miftrefs ; fay, 1 command her come to me. 

[.Exit Gru. 

HOR. I know her anfwer. 

PET. What? 

I/OR. tlTijat fhe will not. 

PET. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. 

jp. Now, by my holidam, here comes Catberina / 

CAT. What is your will, fir, that you fend for me? 

The Taming of the Shrew. gi 

PET. Where is your fifter, and Hortenjio's wife? 
CAT. They fit conferring by the parlor fire. 
PET. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to come, 
Swindge me them foundly forth unto their husbands: 
Away, I fay, and bring them hither ftraight. 


Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. 
HOR. And fo it is; I wonder, what it bodes. 
PET. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life, 
And awful rule, and right fupremacy; 
And, to be fhort, what not, that's fweet and happy. 

BAP. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio! 
The wager thou haft won, and I will add 
Unto their lofles twenty thousand crowns ; 
Another dowry to another daughter, 
For me is chang'd as me had never been. 

PET. Nay, I will win my washer better yet; 
And fhow more fign of her obedience, 

Her new-built virtue of obedience 

Re-enter CATHERINE, with BIANCA, 

and the Widow. 
See, where me comes ; and brings your froward wives 

As prisoners to her womanly perfuasion. 

Catherine, that cap of yours becomes you not; 
Off with that bauble, throw it under foot. 

[Cat. fulls off her Cap, and throws it do^vn 
Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause a figh, 
'Till I be brought to fuch a filly pafs ! 

BIA. Fie '. what a foolilh duty call you this? 
Luc. I would, your duty were as foolifti too: 
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, 
Coft me a hundred crowns fince fupper-time. 

1 An awfull '9 vertue and obe 5* Hath coft me five 

92 The Taming of the Shrew. 

BIA. The more fool you, for laying on my duty. 

PET. Catherine, I charge thee, tell these head-ftrong 

What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. 

Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no 

Per. Come on, I fay; and firft begin 

HiJ. She (hall not. 

PET. I fay, (he fhall;_and firftjsegin with her. 

CAT. Fie, fie! unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; 

[to the Widow. 

And dart not fcornful glances from those eyes, 
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: 
It blots thy beauty, as frofts bite the meads ; 
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds {hake fair buds; 
And in no fenfe is meet, or amiable. 
A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubl'd, 
Muddy, ill-feeraing, thick, bereft of beauty; 
And, while it is fo, none fo dry or thirfty 
Will deign to fip, or touch one drop of it. 
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, 
Thy head, thy fovereign ; one that cares for thee, 
And for thy maintenance: commits his body 
To painful labour, both by fea and land; 
To watch Ux2 night in ftorms, the day in cold, 
Whilft thou ly'ft warm at home, fecure and fafe; 
And craves no other tribute at thy hands, 
But love, fair looks, and true obedience, 
Too little payment for fo great a debt. 
Such duty as the fubjedl owes the prince, 
Even fuch a woman oweth to her husband: 
And, when (he's froward, peevifh, fullen, four, 

5 your 7 begin with her. 

The Taming of the Shrew. 93 

And not obedient to his honeft will, 

What is (he but a foul contending rebel, 

And gracelefs traitor to her loving lord?_ 

I am amam'd, that women are fo fimple, 

To offer war where they fhould kneel for peace; 

Or feek for rule, fupremacy, and fway, 

When they are bound to ferve, love, and obey. 

Why are our bodies foft, and weak, and fmooth, 

Unapt to toil and trouble in the world; 

But that our foft conditions, and our hearts, 

Should well agree with our external parts ? 

Come, come, you froward and unable worms! 

My mind hath been as big as one of yours, 

My heart as great; my reason, haply, more, 

To bandy word for word, and frown for frown: 

But now, I fee, our lances are but ftraws; 

Our ftrength is weak, our weaknefs pad compare, 

That feeming to be mod, which we indeed leaft are. 

Then vail your ftomacks, for it is no boot; 

And place your hands below your husband's foot: 

In token of which duty, if he please, 

My hand is ready, may it do him ease. 

PET. Why, there's a wench ! Come on, and kifs me, 

Kate. \J>ulli her to him, and kij/es her. 

Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou (halt ha't. 

Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward. 

Luc. But a harfh hearing, when women are froward. 

PET. Come, Kate, we'll to bed:_ [rising. 

We three are marry'd, but you two are fped. 
'Twas I one the wager, though you hit the white; 
And, being a winner, God give you good night! 

[Exit, leading out CATHERINE. 

17 flrength as weake 

Z 2 

94 The Taming of the Shrew. 

HOR . Now go thy ways, thou haft tam'd a curft fhrow. 

Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, ftie will be tam'd 

fo. [Exeunt Omnes. 

SCENE III. The Alehoufe. 

SLY upon his Bench, as before; Tapfler 

at the Door. 

Sir. [waking.] Sim, give's feme more wine. .What! 
all the play en gone ? Am not Jl a lord? 

Tap. A lord, with a murrain! Come, art thou drunk 
JJill? [rouzing him. 

Sir. Who's this? tapfter?0, 1 have had the braveji 
dream that ever thou heard' Jl in all thy life. 
, Tap. Yea, marry ; but thou hadji bejt get thee home, for 
your ivife 'will courfeyoufor dreaming here all night. 

SLY. Willjha? I know how to tame ajhrew, I dreamt 
iipon it all this nipht, and thou haft walfd me out of the bejl 
dream that ever 1 had. But I'll to my ivife, and tame her 
too, ifjhe anger me. [Exeunt. 


Los Angeles 
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DEC U7 1983 

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