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Presented to the
LIBRARY of the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO

by
The Estate of the late

PROFESSOR A. S. P. WOODHOUSE

Head of the

Department of English

University College

1944-1964

(EtottfUp OEM turn

THE WORKS

SHAKESPEARE

VOL. IV

THE WORKS

SHAKESPEARE

EDITED
WITH INTRODUCTIONS AND NOTES

C. H. HERFORD

LITT.D. , HON. LiTT.D. (Vicr.)

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN THE
UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF WALES, ABERYSTWYTH

IN TEN VOLS.
VOL. IV

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD.
1902

' FE3 - 8 1966

047246

CONTENTS

PERICLES — PAGE

Introduction ......-• 5

Text 15

CYMBELINE —

Introduction .. m

Text . . , . . . . . .123

THE WINTER'S TALE—

Introduction ' . 263

Text 277

THE TEMPEST —

Introduction 397

Text • . . 409

PERICLES

VOL. rv

DRAMATIS PERSONS

ANTIOCHUS, king of Antioch.
PERICLES, prince of Tyre.
HELICANUS, 1 ,
ESCANES, ) two lords of Tyre.

SIMONIDES, king of Pentapolis.
CLEON, governor of Tarsus. »

LYSIMACHUS, governor of Mytilene.
CERIMON, a lord of Ephesus.
THALIARD, a lord of Antioch,
PHILEMON, servant to Cerimon.
LEONINE, servant to Dionyza.
Marshal.
A Pandar.
BOULT, his servant.

The Daughter of Antiochus.
DIONYZA, wife to Cleon.
THAISA, daughter to Simonides.
MARINA, daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.
LYCHORIDA, nurse to Marina.
A Bawd.

Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates, Fishermen,
and Messengers.

DIANA.

GOWER, as Chorus.
SCENE : Dispersedly in various countries.

i
DURATION OF TIME

The story comprises from fifteen to sixteen years, of which
fourteen days are represented on the stage, the chief intervals
being accounted for by the choruses.
Day i. I. i.

An Interval.
,, 2. I. 2., 3.

An Interval.

Pericles

Day 3. I. 4-

An Interval. 2nd Chorus.
,, 4. II. i.

„ 5- "- 2. -4-
,, 6. II. 5.

An Interval (several months). 3rd Chorus.
,, 7. III. i.
,, 8. III. 2.

Interval (a few days).

„ 9- 1". 3-, 4-

An Interval (fourteen years). 4th Chorus.
,. 10. IV. i.

An Interval.
,, ii. IV. 2., 3.

An Interval (a few days). 5th Chorus.
', „ 12. IV. 5?, 6.

An Interval (three months). 6th Chorus.
„ 13- V. i., 2.

An Interval.
„ 14- V. 3.

P. A. Daniel, ' Time Analysis ' ( Trans, of
N. Shakesp. Soc., 1877-79).

Mr. Daniel believes that the play was divided into seven Acts.

INTRODUCTION

Another, almost identical, edition appeared in
the same year; and others followed in 1611, 1619,
1630 and 1635. Of these six editions the best is
the first, and this teems with corruptions of every
kind. From the sixth quarto the play was reprinted,
with unauthentic corrections, by the editors of the
Third Folio, 1664, who for the first time iricluded
Pericles, in company with several undoubtedly spurious
pieces, in the collected works of Shakespeare. It
was again reprinted in the Fourth Folio,

It is obvious from the briefest inspection that

large parts of Pericles are not by Shakespeare, and

this may have contributed to its exclusion from

the First and Second Folios; though we cannot

Pericles

suppose that curious zeal for the perfect authen
ticity of their text was one of the qualities of
the men who included in the Shakespearean canon
Titus Andronicus and the First Part of Henry VI.,
Timon of Athens and Henry VIII. But it is equally
unquestionable that a considerable portion is, apart
from the extraordinary corruption of the extant texts,
absolutely authentic ; and the most difficult problem
which Pericles presents concerns the process by which
some of Shakespeare's most consummate poetry
became embedded in its present environment.

The story of Pericles is taken, with hardly a
change of moment, from the romance of Apollonius
of Tyre ; a story famous throughout the Middle Ages,
familiar on the continent through the Gesta Roman-
orum, and in England also from having been included
in his Confessio Amantis by the ' moral ' Gower. To
the Elizabethans it was still better known in the
prose novel of Laurence Twine (1576, reprinted
1607). As a story, however, it is of the third rank,
hardly atoning by a profusion of sensational crimes
and calamities for its want of inner coherence and
tragic grip. It may be described as a prelude or
preliminary story with three concurrent sequels.1 In
the prelude, Apollonius guesses the riddle of Antio-
chus, escapes to Tyre, flies thence to Tharsus, suffers
shipwreck and is relieved by the King of Pentapolis,
marries his daughter Lucina, returns to Tyre, undergoes
a storm off Ephesus, loses his wife, and delivers his
infant daughter to the care of a friend of Tharsus

1 The Patterne of | Painfull Tharsia his daughter. | Where-

Ad|ventures : Containing the in the uncertaintie of \ this

most excei|&x/, pleasant and world, and the fickle state of

variable //z|storie of the man's life are liue-|ly described,

strange accidents that be|fell | Gathered into English by

unto Prince Apollonius, the LAVRENCE TWINE Gentleman.
Lady Lucina his wife and

Introduction

(Twine, cc. i.-x.). The threads thus scattered are separ
ately pursued in the three sequels. The first tells the
adventures of the lost wife (Twine, viii.-ix.), the
second those of the infant daughter (Twine, x.-xiv.),
and the third the mourning of Apollonius and his
final recovery of both (Twine, xv.-xxiv.).

At no period of his career can Shakespeare have
thought of putting this entire complex of loosely
connected adventures into the five acts of a play.
But to the purveyors of third-rate romance, it was
congenial material ; and the public for whom they
catered, impervious alike to Sidney's lofty ridicule l
and to Beaumont's riotous burlesque,2 formed the
staple of every Elizabethan audience. Our first
definite trace of a play on the story is the entry of
one called Pericles in the Stationers' Register, 2oth
May 1608, publication of which was 'to be stayed.'
The book so ' stayed ' was almost certainly the First
Quarto of our Pericles actually published in 1609.
For later in the same year was published a prose
version of the play by George Wilkins, with the title :
'THE | Painfull adventures | of Pericles Prince of
Tyre. | Being \ The true History of the Play of
Pericles, as it was | lately presented by the worthy
and anjcient Poet John Gower \ AT LONDON |
Printed by T. P. for Nat. Butter, | 1608.' Not only
are the names and incidents identical, but the novel
has retained unmistakable fragments of Shakespearean
phraseology. In iii. i. Pericles addresses his new-born
infant : —

Thou art the ruddiest welcome to this world

That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows !

Thou hast as chiding a nativity

As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make.

1 An Apology for Poetry , part a The Knight of the Burning
iii. (1580). Pestle (1611).

Pericles

In the novel this becomes : —

Poor inch of nature ! . . . thou art as rudely welcome to
the world as ever princess' babe was, and hast as chiding a
nativity as fire, air, earth, and water can afford thee.

There may be no other passage so clearly
Shakespearean as this, not only in what it copies but
what it adds ; l but one such suffices to show that
Shakespeare's hand had been set upon the play when
Wilkins paraphrased it, and creates a presumption
for the view that all that he ever did to it was already
done. And what he had already was beyond
question recently done ; for all the marks of Shake
speare in Pericles are marks of Shakespeare's ripest
time. We may therefore confidently date his share
in 1607-08.

What his share amounted to is within certain
limits, as has been said, unmistakable. The first
two acts, helplessly reproducing the incoherent series
of Pericles' pre-nuptial adventures, are equally devoid
of the brilliance of his youth and of the subtle tech
nique of his maturity. They combine the imperfect
craft of the 'prentice with the dulness of the journey
man. Here and there, however, Shakespeare has
certainly touched what he did not care to remodel,
as in the lines

The blind mole casts

Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd
By man's oppression ; and the poor worm doth die for 't

(i. i. 100 f.)

— lines sharply contrasted,, in their careless nobility of

phrase and their defiance of rhythmic symmetries,

with the careful rhetoric in which they are embedded.

But the opening of the third act, by one of the

1 Mr. Collier adduces several in iv. 6. : 'If you were born to
striking ones, especially Marina's honour, show it now.'
expostulation with Lysimachus

Introduction

most amazing transitions in literature, suddenly steeps
us in the atmosphere of high poetry which we have
here for a moment breathed. In the tossing ship
Marina has her rude welcome to the world, and
throughout the rest of the play, Shakespeare's
comings-in and goings-out tend to follow hers. Next
to the birth-scene in clear Shakespearean quality
is the recognition- scene (v. i.), then, her dialogue
with Dionyza by the shore (iv. i.), and her brief
passionate appeal to Lysiinachus, passing into a wail
of agony (iv. 6.) : —

If you were born to honour, show it now ;

If put upon you, make the judgement good

That thought you worthy of it. ...

O, that the gods

Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,

Though they did change me to the meanest bird

That flies i' the purer air !

Besides exhibiting Shakespearean style, these
portions of Pericles abound in Shakespearean motives.
Especially close affinities bind them with the
' Romances ' which immediately followed them. For
the most part Pericles presents these common motives
in a cruder form, so that it has been plausibly said
to hold the same relation to The Tempest, The Winter's
Ta/e, and Cymbeline that the Two Gentlemen holds
to Twelfth Night and As You Like it. Like The
Tempest, these Marina -scenes open with storm, and
Pericles, confronting its tragic cruelty, is as grand a
figure as Prospero. Marina stands 'flower-like among
her flowers ' like Perdita, and reads the poisonous
tenderness of a jealous foster-mother, like Imogen.
The meeting of Pericles with Thaisa and with Marina
is drawn with as profound a feeling for joy as that of
Leontes with Perdita and with Hermione.

Hence the attractive theory which supposes the
9

Pericles

Marina-scenes of Pericles to represent an unfinished
drama of Shakespeare's own, to which the tedious
flourish of the first two acts of an older play on the
entire story was prefixed.

But this theory is not without difficulties. With
all the extraordinary power of single scenes, the
' Marina ' has not, as it stands, any more than the
Pericles story as a whole, the dramatic substance, the
backbone, of Shakespeare's most 'romantic' plots.
It is like TJie Winter's Tale divested of the tragedy of
Hermione. The most critical moment of Marina's
career, that in which she turns the governor of
Mytilene from his evil purpose, can hardly have
appealed to Shakespeare, with its Spenserian breadth
and simplicity, as proper for the central situation of
a drama. And the earlier crisis, in which Dionyza
plots her death, is treated with a marked subordi
nation of dramatic to epic effect. We are hardly
made aware of Dionyza's jealousy, when we find
her putting the last touches to the murderer's
instructions : —

Thy oath remember ; thou hast sworn to do 't :

Tis but a blow, which never shall be known (iv. i. i).

And the raptures of the final re-union are made
poignant by no mingling of remorse. Blameless
sufferers embrace, but no Leontes, no Alonso, no
lachimo, Posthumus, or Cymbeline looks on. The
real criminals are in the conclusion simply ignored.
Neither the vengeance which Pericles proposed to
inflict, nor the ' nobler virtue ' of pardon which his
later counterparts bestow, gives dramatic significance
to their fate ; but they fall by a popular uprising, and
this last act of their story is huddled away in an
Epilogue. The so-called ' Marina ' is an assemblage
of striking parallels to the Romances, but is not,
as a whole, a parallel.

Introduction

And a great part even of the 'Marina' itself is
only intermittently of clear Shakespearean quality. It
would be rash to say that the Mytilene-scenes in the
fourth act are too repulsive for him to have written ;
certainly the loathsome figures of Boult and his crew
are drawn with a drastic vigour of which there is
hardly a trace in the first two acts. But powerful
realism of this kind was within the compass of many
a Jacobean dramatist, when he could draw direct
from the low life of daily experience. It is where
his common experience fails him, that the common
dramatist betrays himself. Certainly such phenomena
as the conversion of Lysimachus and Boult must
have been as startling in London as in Ephesus ; and
it is at this point that the writer of the Mytilene-
scenes discloses his psychological ineptitude. We
may perhaps recognise Shakespeare in Marina's
virginal protest, but its instantaneous effect upon
hardened men must be attributed to a hand less
subtle or more perfunctory than his. Similarly, the
majority of the ' choruses ' in acts iv. and v., while
differing in measure and in style from those of i. and
ii., show only here and there a Shakespearean touch.
The Gower of i. and ii. speaks in rude octosyllabic
verse like his own, sprinkled with antique forms. In
iv. and v. he archaises no more and cultivates the
five-foot measure, the ornate phrase, and the inter
woven rhymes of the Elizabethan sonneteer. And
the opening ' chorus ' of act v., otherwise clumsy
enough, contains, in its description of Marina's
dainty feminine craft, a little vignette full of Shake
spearean flavour. *

It therefore seems probable, as most critics have

held, that Shakespeare rather elaborated another

man's Pericles, scene by scene, here more, here less,

according to the fluctuating attractions of the theme,

Pericles

than that he seriously plotted a ' Marina/ still less a
Pericles ; of his own.

What the other Pericles was, and who the other
man, are questions which an editor of Shakespeare
who prints large portions, of the other man's work
cannot altogether pass by, but which we have no
means of decisively answering. Delius inferred from
George Wilkins' description of his novel as 'a poore
infant of my brain,' that he was also the author of
the drama from which it was taken. And Mr. Fleay,
on this hint, constructed a romance (or rather two
if not three romances)1 of theatrical jealousies and
rivalries, in which Shakespeare as well as Wilkins
played a part. Wilkins, a latter-day Greene, resents
the suppression of his Pericles by Shakespeare's riper
work ; instead, however, of emulating the earlier
Greene's malignant snarl at the 'upstart crowe,' he
contents himself with reproducing his own Pericles in
a novel, claiming it as his own in a phrase so
cautiously inoffensive that Mr. Fleay was the first to
divine what he meant. Upon this, Shakespeare or
Shakespeare's company hastens to publish his
Pericles, 'probably as an answer to Wilkins.' Two
circumstances alone give some slight plausibility to
these conjectures. Wilkins in 1607 left the King's
Company, and joined the rival company of the

1 It is impossible to be sure winter [1608 - 9] and hurriedly

that one has Mr. Fleay's final printed in 1609 as a practical

opinion. In one place (Shake- answer to Wilkins' prose

speare, p. 245) Wilkins pub- version.' Thus Shakespeare's

lishecl his novel, 1608, because Pericles was written after a

he was probably ' annoyed by book which quotes it, and pub-

the adoption* of Shakespeare's lished ' as a practical answer '

version of the Marina story in- to one inspired by ' annoyance '

stead of his own.' In another at the 'adoption' of work not

passage of the same volume yet written. Such are the re-

(p. 61), 'Marina, the part of suits of reducing dramatic his-

Pericles which replaced Wilkins' tory to a function of theatrical

work, . . . was written in this feuds.

• 12

Introduction

Queen. And his acknowledged play, The Miseries of
Enforced Marriage (1603), tho.ugh totally unlike
Pericles in plot (it is founded on the contemporary
history of a Yorkshire family), has in common with
it some tricks of metre, especially (as Delius noticed)
the use of rhymes promiscuously interspersed in the
midst of blank verse, even in verse-speeches which
themselves alternate with prose. Cf. e.g. Pericles'
dialogue with the fishermen in ii. i., and the
dialogues between Ilford and Scarborow, Ilford and
the Clown (Miseries of Enforced Marriage, in Hazlitt-
Dodsley, ix. 492, 493).

But the suggestion that the publication of the
First Quarto of Pericles was an act of reprisal by
Shakespeare's company is wholly unwarranted. For
the state of the text leaves no doubt that it was
published surreptitiously from a copy less authentic
than that on which Wilkins himself had based his
paraphrase.

Pericles was surpassed by few of Shakespeare's
most authentic plays in popularity. In 1609 an
anonymous satirist compared a crowd of outstretched
throats to an audience come ' to see Shore or Pericles.^
The name of Pericles became a by-word for good
fortune,2 and Boult seems, like Pandarus, to have
given a new sobriquet to his class.3

But the immense vogue of Pericles was chiefly
among the populace of all ranks. Grave and
scholarly persons resented its monstrous defects as
a drama, as well as its pardonable if not legitimate
grossness : and presently their voices began to be
heard. Jonson, smarting from the derisive rejection

1 Pimlyco, or Runne Red- Taylor's The Hogg hath lost his

Cap, 1609 (cf. Cent, of Shake- Pearle, 1614 (ib. p. 107).

speare' s Praise, p. 89 ). 3 Barthwaite, Strappado for

3 'Fortunate like Pericles'; the Divell, 1615 (ib. p. 113).

Pericles

of his The New Inn (1629), turned savagely upon the
'mouldy tale' which it was still a safe venture to
perform ; and even Owen Feltham's Reply seems to
admit that there were many whom Pericles 'deeply
displeased.' After the Restoration it passed from the
stage, on account of its offences against art rather
than against decency, though its grossness was of too
primitive a type to please the contemporaries of
Etherege. Dryden singles it out, with the English
histories collectively, as a type of the 'ridiculous
incoherent story which in one play many times took
up the business of an age ' ; and in an unfortunate,
but often-quoted, line used it to illustrate the con
tention that no first plays are good, since

' Shakespeare's own Muse his Pericles first bore.

In our own time it has, somewhat tardily, shared in
the heightened repute of the Romances.

PERICLES

ACT I.

Enter GOWER.

Before the palace of Antioch.

To sing a song that old was sung,

From ashes ancient Gower is come ;

Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.

It hath been sung at festivals,

On ember-eves and holy-ales ;

And lords and ladies in their lives

Have read it for restoratives :

The purchase is to make men glorious ;

Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius

If you, born in these latter times,

When wit 's more ripe, accept my rhymes,

And that to hear an old man sing

May to your wishes pleasure bring,

I life would wish, and that I might

Waste it for you, like taper-light.

This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great

i. old, of old ; apparently ember-days,
intended for an archaism. 9. purchase, gain, profit.

6. ember -eves, the eves of 16. Waste, spend.

Pericles ACT i

Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat ;

The fairest in all Syria,

I tell" you what mine authors say : 20

This king unto him took a fere,

Who died and left a female heir,

So buxom, blithe, and full of face,

As heaven had lent her all his grace ;

With whom the father liking took,

And her to incest did provoke :

Bad child ; worse father ! to entice his own

To evil should be done by none :

But custom what they did begin

Was with long use account no sin. 3o

The beauty of this sinful dame

Made many princes thither frame,

To seek her as a bed-fellow,

In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:

Which to prevent he made a law,

To keep her still, and men in awe,

That whoso ask'd her for his wife,

His riddle told not, lost his life :

So for her many a wight did die,

As yon grim looks do testify. 40

What now ensues, to the judgement of your eye

I give, my cause who best can justify. [Exit.

SCENE I. Antioch. A room in the palace.

Enter ANTIOCHUS, PRINCE PERICLES, and
followers.

Ant. Young prince of Tyre, you have at large
received

21. fere, mate. By custom, which only em-

29, 30. The confused syntax phasises its apparent tautology.

of this couplet is probably due 32. frame, betake them-

to the writer. Malone proposed selves.

sc. i Pericles

The danger of the task you undertake.

Per. I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul
Embolden'd with the glory of her praise,
Think death no hazard in this enterprise.

Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a

bride,

For the embracements even of Jove himself;
At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd,
Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
The senate-house of planets all did sit, 10

To knit in her their best perfections.

Music. Enter the Daughter of Antiochus.

Per. See where she comes, apparell'd like the

spring,

Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men !
Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever razed, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.
You gods that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflamed desire in my breast 20

To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness !

Ant. Prince Pericles, —

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.

Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd ;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard :

6. Bring in our daughter. ' Music ' as a stage direction ;

Qq and Ff prefix ' Music ' to and Dyce transferred it to v. 1 1 .

these words, as a part of the 8. till Lucina reign'd, until

speech. Malone distinguished her birth.

VOL. IV 17 C

Pericles ACT

Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view 3

Her countless glory, which desert must gain ;
And which, without desert, because thine eye
Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance

pale,

That without covering, save yon field of stars,
Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars ;
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
For going on death's net, whom none resist. 4C

Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught
My frail mortality to know itself,
And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must ;
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life 's but breath, to trust it error.'
I '11 make my will then, and, as sick men do
Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling

woe,

Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did ;
So I bequeath a happy peace to you so

And all good men, as every prince should do ;
My riches to the earth from whence they came ;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.

[To the daughter of Antiochus.
Thus ready for the way of life or death,
I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.

Ant. Scorning advice, read the conclusion,

then:

Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed,
As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.

33. heap, body. Pericles' speech. Malone first

56. Scorning advice, etc. Qq proposed the present arrange-
and Ff include this line in ment.

sc. i Pericles

Daugh. Of all say'd yet, mayst thou prove

prosperous !
Of all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness ! 60

Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists,
Nor ask advice of any other thought
But faithfulness and courage.

He reads the riddle.

I am no viper, yet I feed

On mother's flesh which did me breed.

I sought a husband, in which labour

I found that kindness in a father :

He 's father, son, and husband mild ;

I mother, wife, and yet his child.

How they may be, and yet in two, 70

As you will live, resolve it you.
Sharp physic is the last : but, O you powers
That give heaven countless eyes to view men's

acts,

Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it ?
Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,
Were not this glorious casket stored with ill :
But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt ;
For he 's no man on whom perfections wait
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. &>

You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings ;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to

hearken :

But being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
Good sooth, I care not for you.

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,

59. Of all say d yet, of all who yet assayed. Qq and Ff sayd
or said.

Pericles ACT i

For that 's an article within our law,

As dangerous as the rest. Your time 's expired :

Either expound now, or receive your sentence. 90

Per. Great king,

Few love to hear the sins they love to act ;
'T would braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He 's more secure to keep it shut than shown :
For vice repeated is like the wandering wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole

casts ioo

Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is

throng'd
By man's oppression ; and the poor worm doth

die for 't.
Kings are earth's gods ; in vice their law 's their

will;

And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill ?
It is enough you know ; and it is fit,
What being more known grows worse, to smother it.
All love the womb that their first being bred,
Then give my tongue like leave to love my

head.
Ant. [Aside] Heaven, that I had thy head !

he has found the meaning :

But I will gloze with him. — Young prince of Tyre, no
Though by the tenour of our strict edict,
Your exposition misinterpreting,
We might proceed to cancel of your days ;
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree

96. vice repeated, the dis- no. gloze with him, delude

closure of vice. him with words.

101. Copp'd, peaked.

sc. i Pericles

As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise :

Forty days longer we do respite you ;

If by which time our secret be undone,

This mercy shows we '11 joy in such a son :

And until then your entertain shall be

As doth befit our honour and your worth. 120

[Exeunt all but Pericles.
Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
When what is done is like an hypocrite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight !
If it be true that I interpret false,
Then were it certain you were not so bad
As with foul incest to abuse your soul ;
Where now you 're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child,
Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father;
And she an eater of her mother's flesh, i3»

By the defiling of her parent's bed ;
And both like serpents are, who though they feed
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell ! for wisdom sees, those men
Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
One sin, I know, another doth provoke ;
Murder 's as near to lust as flame to smoke :
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame : 140

Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear,
By flight I '11 shun the danger which I fear. \Exit.

Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.

Ant. He hath found the meaning, for which

we mean

To have his head.
He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,

119. entertain, entertainment.
21

Pericles ACT r

Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin

In such a loathed manner ;

And therefore instantly this prince must die ;

For by his fall my honour must keep high.

Who attends us there ?

Enter THALIARD.

Thai. Doth your highness call ? iSo

Ant. Thaliard,

You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes
Her private actions to your secrecy ;
And for your faithfulness we will advance you.
Thaliard, behold, here 's poison, and here 's gold ;
We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him :
It fits thee not to ask the reason why,
Because we bid it. Say, is it done?

Thai. My lord,

'Tis done.

Ant. Enough. 160

Enter a Messenger.

Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.

Mess. My lord, prince Pericles is fled. [Exit.

Ant. As thou

Wilt live, fly after : and like an arrow shot
From a well-experienced archer hits the mark
His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return
Unless thou say ' Prince Pericles is dead.'

Thai. My lord,

If I can get him within my pistol's length,
I '11 make him sure enough : so, farewell to your
highness.

Ant. Thaliard, adieu! [Exit Thai.} Till

Pericles be dead, i70

My heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit.

152. partakes, imparts.
22

sc. ii Pericles

SCENE II. Tyre. A room in the palace.

Enter PERICLES.

Per. \To Lords without} Let none disturb
us. — Why should this change of thoughts,
The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,
Be my so used a guest as not an hour,
In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed

me quiet ?
Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes

shun them,

And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch,
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here :
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me. 10

Then it is thus : the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care ;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now and cares it be not done.
And so with me : the great Antiochus,
'Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he 's so great can make his will his act,
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say I honour him, 20

If he suspect I may dishonour him :
And what may make him blush in being known,
He '11 stop the course by which it might be known;

i. [To Lords without.] Dyce which dyes all thoughts its own
supplied this direction, Qq and colour.

Ff making the Lords enter with 3. Be my, Dyce's emendation
Pericles. for Qq and Ff by me.

15. cares it be not done, is

i. change of thoughts, that anxious lest it should be done.

Pericles ACT i

With hostile forces he '11 o'erspread the land,

And with the ostent of war will look so huge,

Amazement shall drive courage from the state ;

Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,

And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence :

Which care of them, not pity of myself,

Who am no more but as the tops of trees, 30

Which fence the roots they grow by and defend

them,

Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,
And punish that before that he would punish.

Enter HELICANUS, with other Lords.

First Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred

breast !
Sec. Lord. And keep your mind, till you return

to us,
Peaceful and comfortable !

Hel. Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
They do abuse the king that flatter him :
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin ;
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, 4o

To which that blast gives heat and stronger

glowing ;

Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,
Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,
He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please ;
I cannot be much lower than my knees.

Per. All leave us else ; but let your cares
o'erlook

25. ostent, display. 41. blast, Mason's proposal

26. Amazement, bewilder- for spark of the old copies,
nient. repeated by an oversight from

30. am, Farmer's emendation v. 46.
of once, Qq Ff. 44. Sooth, flattering assent.

sc. ii Pericles

What shipping and what lading 's in our haven,
And then return, to us. \Exeunt Lords.} Heli-

canus, thou so

Hast moved us : what seest thou in our looks ?

Hel. An angry brow, dread lord.

Per. If there be such a dart in princes' frowns,
How durst thy tongue move anger to our face ?

Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven,

from whence
They have their nourishment?

Per. Thou know'st I have power

To take thy life from thee.

Hel. \Kneeling\ I have ground the axe my
self;
Do you but strike the blow.

Per. Rise, prithee, rise.

Sit down : thou art no flatterer : 60

I thank thee for it ; and heaven forbid
That kings should let their ears hear their faults

hid!

Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,
Who by thy wisdom makest a prince thy servant,
What wouldst thou have me do ?

Hel. To bear with patience

Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.

Per. Thou speak st like a physician, Helicanus,
That minister'st a potion unto me
That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.
Attend me, then : I went to Antioch, 7o

Where as thou know'st, against the face of death,
I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,
From whence an issue I might propagate,
Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.

62. hear their faults hid, hear between 73 and 74, such as :
theflatterywhichhidestheirfaults. Worthy to heir my throne ; for
74. A line is probably lost kingly boys (Sydney Walker).

Pericles ACT i

Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder ;
The rest — hark in thine ear — as black as incest :
Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou

know'st this,

'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled, So

Under the covering of a careful night,
Who seem'd my good protector ; and, being here,
Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
I knew him tyrannous ; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but. grow faster than the years :
And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
That I should open to the listening air
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt, he '11 fill this land with arms, 9o
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence :
Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
Who now reprovest me for it, —

Hel. Alas, sir !

Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from

my cheeks,

Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts
How I might stop this tempest ere it came ;
And finding little comfort to relieve them,
I thought it princely charity to grieve them. 100

Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me

leave to speak,

Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,
And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
Who either by public war or private treason

78. smooth, flatter.
86. doubt, suspect. Malone's emendation of do't, Q 1-3.

sc. in Pericles

Will take away your life.

Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,

Till that his rage and anger be forgot,

Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.

Your rule direct to any ; if to me,

Day serves not light more faithful than I '11 be.

Per. I do not doubt thy faith ;
But should he wrong rny liberties in my absence ?

Hel. We '11 mingle our bloods together in the

earth,
From whence we had our being and our birth.

Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to

Tarsus

Intend my travel, where I '11 hear from thee ;
And by whose letters I '11 dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good ^
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can

bear it.

I '11 take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath :
Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both :
But in our orbs we '11 live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.

\Exeunt.

SCENE III. Tyre. An ante-chamber in the
palace.

Enter THALIARD.

Thai. So, this is Tyre, and this the court.
Here must I kill King Pericles ; and if I do
it not, I am sure to be hanged at home : 'tis

105-110. Printedas prose inQq 123. convince, refute, over-
Ff. Arranged as verse by Rowe. come.

Pericles ACT i

dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow,
and had good discretion, that, being bid to ask
what he would of the king, desired he might
know none of his secrets : now do I see he had
some reason for 't ; for if a king bid a man be a
villain, he 's bound by the indenture of his oath
to be one. Hush ! here come the lords of Tyre. 10

Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES, with other
Lords of Tyre.

Hel. You shall not need, my fellow peers of

Tyre,

Further to question me of your king's departure :
His seal'd commission, left in trust with me,
Doth speak sufficiently he 's gone to travel.

Tkal. \Aside\ How ! the king gone !

Hel. If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves,
He would depart, I '11 give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch —

Thai [Aside] What from Antioch ?

Hel. Royal Antioch us — on what cause I know

not — 20

Took some displeasure at him ; at least he judged

so :

And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
To show his sorrow, he 'Id correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.

4f. he was a wise fellow, etc. he loved him, made this answer

This story is more fully referred to the king, that your majesty

to in Barnabie Riche's ' Souldier's would never impart unto me any

Wish to Britaine's Welfare ': 'I of your secrets ' (Steevens).
will therefore commend the poet

Philipides, who, being demanded 11-40. Printed as prose in Qq

by King Lysimachus what favour Ff. First arranged as verse by

he might do unto him for that Rowe.

sc. iv Pericles

Thai. [Aside] Well, I perceive I shall not be
hang'd now, although I would ; but since he 's
gone, the king's seas must please : he 'scaped the
land, to perish at the sea. I '11 present myself.
Peace to the lords of Tyre ! 30

Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.

Thai. From him I come
With message unto princely Pericles ;
But since my landing I have understood
Your lord has betook himself to unknown travels,
My message must return from whence it came.

Hel. We have no reason to desire it,
Commended to our master, not to us :
Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre. 40

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governor's
house.

Enter CLEON, the Governor of Tarsus, with
DIONYZA, and others.

Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of others' griefs,
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own ?

Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to

quench it ;

For who digs hills because they do aspire
Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
O my distressed lord, even such our griefs are ;
Here they 're but felt, and seen with mischiefs eyes,

26-30. This being 'aside' it 10) and his ceremonial addresses,

seems probable that the prose It is therefore retained,
may be here intended to mark the 8. mischief's, (apparently)

distinction between Thaliard's 'misery's.' Steevens proposed

informal soliloquies (as in vv. i- wistful, S. Walker misery's.

Pericles ACT i

But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.

Cle. O Dionyza, 10

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger till he famish ?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep
Our woes into the air ; our eyes do weep,
Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them

louder ;
That, if heaven slumber while their creatures

want,

They may awake their helps to comfort thern.
I '11 then discourse our woes, felt several years,
And wanting breath to speak help me with tears.
Dio. I '11 do my best, sir. 20

Cle. This Tarsus, o'er which I have the

government,

A city on whom plenty held full hand,
For riches strew'd herself even in the streets ;
Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the

clouds,

And strangers ne'er beheld but wonder'd at ;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by :
Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on as delight ;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great, 30

The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Dio. O, 'tis too true.
Cle. But see what heaven can do ! By this

our change,

These mouths, who but of late, earth, sea, and air,
Were all too little to content and please,
Although they gave their creatures in abundance,

9. topp'd, lopp'd. The at- lopping trees, which only grow
tempt to diminish grief by recit- the higher for it.
ing the griefs of others is like 26. jetted, strut.

sc. iv Pericles

As houses are defiled for want of use,
They are now starved for want of exercise :
Those palates who, not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste, 4o

Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it :
Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now
To eat those little darlings whom they loved.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life :
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping ;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true ? 50

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.

Cle. O, let those cities that of plenty's cup
And her prosperities so largely taste,
With their superfluous riots, hear these tears !
The misery of Tarsus may be theirs.

Enter a Lord.

Lord. Where 's the lord governor ?

Cle. Here.
Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st in

haste,
For comfort is too far for us to expect.

Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbour
ing shore, 60
A portly sail of ships make hitherward.

Cle. I thought as much.
One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,

39. two summers. Monk 43. curious, ' recherche'.

Mason's correction (confirmed 54. With their superfluous

by the novel) of Qq Ff too (to] riots, running riot in super-

sauers. fluity.

42. nousle, cherish. 61. sail, fleet.

Pericles ACT i

That may succeed as his inheritor ;

And so in ours : some neighbouring nation,

Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff' d these hollow vessels with their power,

To beat us down, the which are down already ;

And make a conquest of unhappy me,

Whereas no glory 's got to overcome. 7o

Lord. That's the least fear; for, by the sem
blance

Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace,

And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him 's untutor'd to
repeat :

Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.

But bring they what they will and what they can,

What need we fear?

The ground 's the lowest, and we are half way
there.

Go tell their general we attend him here,

To know for what he comes, and whence he comes, 80

And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord. [Exit.

Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist ;

If wars, we are unable to resist.

Enter PERICLES with Attendants.

Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are,
Let not our ships and number of our men
Be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes.
We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,
And seen the desolation of your streets :

67. Hath. Rowe's correction 74. him 's, him that is. Ma-

for Qq Ff that. lone's emendation for Qq Ff

70. Whereas no glory' s got to himnes, hymns,
overcome, where victory brings

no glory. 83. on peace consist, stand on,

71. semblance (three syllables), demand, peace.

ACT ii Pericles

Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, 90

But to relieve them of their heavy load ;
And these our ships, you happily may think
Are like the Trojan horse was stuff'd within
With bloody veins, expecting overthrow,
Are stored with corn to make your needy bread,
And give them life whom hunger starved half
dead.

AH. The gods of Greece protect you !
And we '11 pray for you.

Per. Arise, I pray you, rise :

We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men. 100

Ck. The which when any shall not gratify,
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils !
Till when, — the which I hope shall ne'er be

seen, —
Your grace is welcome to our town and us.

Per. Which welcome we '11 accept ; feast here

awhile,
Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.

t \JExeunt.

ACT II.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king
His child, I wis, to incest bring ;
A better prince and benign lord,

92. happily, haply.
VOL. IV 33 D

Pericles ACT n

That will prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet then as men should be,
Till he hath pass'd necessity.
I '11 show you those in troubles reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good in conversation,

To whom I give my benison, J0

Is still at Tarsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he speken can ;
And, to remember what he does,
Build his statue to make him glorious :
• But tidings to the contrary
Are brought your eyes ; what need speak I ?

DUMB SHOW.

Enter at one door PERICLES talking with
CLEON ; all the train with them. Enter at
another door a Gentleman, with a letter to
• PERICLES ; PERICLES shows the letter to
CLEON ; gives the Messenger a reward, and
knights him. Exit PERICLES at one door, and
CLEON at another.

Good Helicane, that stay'd at'home,

Not to eat honey like a drone

From others' labours ; for though he strive

To killen bad, keep good alive ; 2°

And to fulfil his prince' desire,

Sends word of all that haps in Tyre :

How Thaliard came full bent with sin

And had intent to murder him ;

4. awful, devout, holy. 12. writ, Scripture.

9-11. The good in conversa- ib. speken, Qq Ff spoken,

tion . . . is still at Tarsus, 22. Sends word. Malone's

the good (Pericles) is still dwell- correction (confirmed by the

ing at Tarsus. novel) of Qq Ff saved one.

sc. i Pericles

And that in Tarsus was not best
Longer for him to make his rest.
He, doing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there 's seldom ease ;
For now the wind begins to blow ;
Thunder above and deeps below 3o

Make such unquiet, that the ship
Should house him safe is wreck'd and split ;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is tost :
All perishen of man, of pelf,
Ne aught escapen but himself;
Till fortune, tired with doing bad,
Threw him ashore, to give him glad :
And here he comes. What shall be next,
Pardon old Gower, — this longs the text. 4o

[Exit.

SCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the
sea-side.

Enter PERICLES, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of

heaven !

Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
Is but a substance that must yield to you ;
And I, as fits my nature, do obey you :
Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me

breath
Nothing to think on but ensuing death :

27. doing so, i.e. following belongs to the play, not to the

Helicanus' counsel. ' Chorus. '

36. escapen ; Qq escapen' d. 6. me breath. Malone's cor-

40. this longs the text, this rection of Qq Ff my breath.

Pericles ACT n

Let it suffice the greatness of your powers

To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes ;

And having thrown him from your watery grave, 10

Here to have death in peace is all he '11 crave.

Enter three Fishermen.

First Fish, What, ho, Pilch !

Sec. Fish. Ha, come and bring away the nets !

First Fish. What, Patch-breech, I say !

Third Fish. What say you, master?

First Fish. Look how thou stirrest now ! come
away, or I '11 fetch thee with a wanion.

Third Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of
the poor men that were cast away before us even
now. 20

First Fish. Alas, poor souls, it grieved my
heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us
to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce
help ourselves.

Third Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much
when I saw the porpus how he bounced and
tumbled ? they say they 're half fish, half flesh :
a plague on them, they ne'er come but I look to
be washed. Master, I marvel how the fishes live
in the sea. 30

First Fish. Why, as men do a-land ; the great
ones eat up the little ones : I can compare our
rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale ; a'
plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before
him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful :
such whales have I heard on o' the land, who
never leave gaping till they 've swallowed the
whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all.

12. What, ho, Pilch! So 17. -with a wanion, 'with a
Tyrwhitt and Malone for Qq \engeance.'
Ff What, topelch?

sc. i Pericles

Per. \Aside\ A pretty moral.

Third Fish. But, master, if I had been the 40
sexton, I would have been that day in the belfry.

Sec. Fish. Why, man ?

Third Fish. Because he should have swal
lowed me too : and when I had been in his belly,
I would have kept such a jangling of the bells,
that he should never have left, till he cast bells,
steeple, church, and parish, up again. But if the
good King Simonides were of my mind, —

Per. \Aside\ Simonides !

Third Fish. We would purge the land of these 50
drones, that rob the bee of her honey.

Per. \Aside\ How from the finny subject of

the sea

These fishers tell the infirmities of men ;
And from their watery empire recollect
All that may men approve or men detect !
Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

Sec. Fish. Honest ! good fellow, what 's that ?
It it be a day fits you, steal 't out of the calendar,
and nobody look after it.

Per. May see the sea hath cast me upon your
coast. 60

Sec. fish. What a drunken knave was the sea
to cast thee in our way !

Per. A man whom both the waters and the

wind,

In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball
For them to play upon, entreats you pity him ;
He asks of you, that never used to beg.

58. steal' t. Hudson's reading see the sea hath cast upon your
for the unintelligible search of coast. Ff Y' may see the sea
Qq and Ff. Malone, Steevens, hath, cast me, etc. The line is
and Singer substituted scratch. probably corrupt, but no satis
factory emendation has been

60. May see, etc. Qq May proposed.

Pericles ACT n

First Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg ? Here 's
them in our country of Greece gets more with
begging than we can do with working.

Sec. Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes, then ? 70

Per. I never practised it.

Sec. Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure ;
for here's nothing to be got now-a-days, unless
thou canst fish for 't.

Per. What I have been I have forgot to know ;
But what I am, want teaches me to think on :
A man throng'd up with cold : my veins are

chill,

And have no more of life than may suffice
To give my tongue that heat to ask your help ;
Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead, &>

For that I am a man, pray see me buried.

First Fish. Die quoth-a ? Now gods forbid !
I have a gown here ; come, put it on ; keep thee
warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow ! Come,
thou shalt go home, and we '11 have flesh for holi
days, fish for fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings
and flap-jacks, and thou shalt be welcome.

Per. I thank you, sir.

Sec. Fish. Hark you, my friend ; you said you
could not beg. 90

Per. I did but crave.

Sec. Fish. But crave ! Then I '11 turn craver
too, and so I shall 'scape whipping.

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipped,
then ?

Sec. Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all ; for
if all your beggars were whipped, I would wish
no better office than to be beadle. But, master,
I '11 go draw up the net.

[Exit with Third Fisherman.
87. flap-jacks, pancakes.
38

sc. i Pericles

Per. \Aside~\ How well this honest mirth be
comes their labour !

First Fish. Hark you, sir, do you know where 100
ye are ?

Per. Not well.

First Fish. Why, I '11 tell you : this is called
Pentapolis, and our king the good Simonides.

Per. The good King Simonides, do you call
him ?

First Fish. Ay, sir : and he deserves so to be
called for his peaceable reign and good government.

Per. He is a happy king, since he gains from
his subjects the name of good by his government, no
How far is his court distant from this shore ?

First Fish. Marry, sir, half a day's journey:
and I '11 tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and to
morrow is her birth-day ; and there are princes
and knights come from all parts of the world to
just and tourney for her love.

Per. Were my fortunes equal to my desires,
I could wish to make one there.

First Fish. O, sir, things must be as they
may; and what a man cannot get, he may law- 120
fully deal for — his wife's soul.

Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing
up a net.

Sec. Fish. Help, master, help ! here 's a fish
hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the
law ; 'twill hardly come out. Ha ! bots on 'jt, 'tis
come at last, and 'tis turned to a rusty armour.

120, I2T. what a man can- affections of his (future) wife, he

not get . . . his -wife s soul. is free to bargain for them (by

Obscure and doubtful. If the the tourney, of which her love

text is correct the meaning is : was the prize).
if a man cannot directly win the

Pericles ACT n

Per. An armour, friends ! I pray you, let me

see it.

Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,
Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;
And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,
Which my dead father did bequeath to me, 130

With this strict charge, even as he left his life,
' Keep it, my Pericles ; it hath been a shield
'Twixt me and death ; ' — and pointed to this

brace ; —

' For that it saved me, keep it ; in like necessity —
The which the gods protect thee from ! — may

defend thee.'

It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it ;
Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
Took it in rage, though calm'd have given 't again :
I thank thee for 't : my shipwreck now 's no ill,
Since I have here my father's gift in 's will. 140

First Fish. What mean you, sir ?

Per. To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of

worth,

For it was sometime target to a king ;
I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,
And for his sake I wish the having of it ;
And that you 'Id guide me to your sovereign's

court,

Where with it I may appear a gentleman ;
And if that ever my low fortune's better,
I '11 pay your bounties ; till then rest your debtor.

First Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? 150

Per. -I '11 show the virtue I have borne in arms.

First Fish. Why, do 'e take it, and the gods
give thee good on 't !

133. brace, armour. defendthee. Malone'sandDyce's

correction of Qq Ff protect thee,
135. protect tkee from! — may Fame may, etc.

sc. n Pericles

Sec. Fish. Ay, but hark you, my friend ; 'twas
we that made up this garment through the rough
seams of the waters : there are certain condole-
ments, certain vails. I hope, sir, if you thrive,
you '11 remember from whence you had it.

Per. Believe 't, I will.

By your furtherance I am clothed in steel ; 160

And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,
This jewel holds his building on my arm :
Unto thy value I will mount myself
Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.
Only, my friend, I am yet unprovided
Of a pair of bases.

Sec. Fish. We '11 sure provide : thou shalt have
my best gown to make thee a pair ; and I '11 bring
thee to the court myself. 170

Per. Then honour be but equal to my will.
This day I '11 rise, or else add ill to ill. \Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. A public way or plat
form leading to the lists. A pavilion by the
side of it for the reception of the King, Princess,
Lords, etc.

Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords and Attendants.

Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the

triumph ?
First Lord. They are, my liege ;

161. rapture, violent seizure. 167. bases, the embroidered
Rowe's emendation (confirmed mantle worn by knights on horse-
by Wilkins' novel) for Qq Ff back, which hung down from
rupture. the waist to the knees.

162. building, (perhaps) fixity.

Others have proposed to read, 171. equal. Staunton's emen-

gilding, biding. dation of Qq Ff a goal.

Pericles

CT 11

And stay your coming to present themselves.
Sim. Return them, we are ready ; and our

daughter,

In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For men to see, and seeing wonder at.

[Exit a Lord.
Thai. It pleaseth you, my royal father, to

express
My commendations great, whose merit 's less.

Sim. It 's fit it should be so ; for princes are 10
A model, which heaven makes like to itself:
As jewels lose their glory if neglected,
So princes their renowns if not respected.
Tis now your honour, daughter, to interpret
The labour of each knight in his device.

Thai. Which, to preserve mine honour, I Ti
perform.

Enter a Knight ; he passes over, and his Squire
presents his shield to the Princess.

Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer himself?

Thai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father ;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun ; 20

The word, ' Lux tua vita mihi.'

Sim. He loves you well that holds his life of you.
[ The Second Knight passes over.
Who is the second that presents himself?

Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father ;

4. Return, reply to. Pericles, the fourth and fifth

14. interpret. Schmidt's have no specified nationality.

probable emendation of Qq Ff Wilkins mentions five knights

entertain. respectively of Macedon, Corinth,

18. A knight of Sparta. Of Antioch, Sparta, Athens.

the five knights who precede 21. word, motto.

sc. ii Pericles

And the device he bears upon his shield
Is an arm'd knight that 's conquer'd by a lady ;
The motto thus, in Spanish, ' Piu por dulzura que
por fuerza.'

[T/ie Third Knight passes over.
Sim. And what 's the third ?
Thai. The third of Antioch ;

And his device, a wreath of chivalry ;
The word, ' Me pompae provexit apex.' 30

\The Fourth Knight passes aver.
Sim. What is the fourth ?
Thai. A burning torch that 's turned upside

down ;
The word ' Quod me alit, me extinguit.'

Sim. Which shows that beauty hath his power

and will,
Which can as well inflame as it can kill.

\The Fifth Knight passes over.
Thai. The fifth, an hand environed with clouds,
Holding out gold that 's by the touchstone tried ;
The motto thus, ' Sic spectanda fides.'

\The Sixth Knight, Pericles, passes over.
Sim. And what 's

The sixth and last, the which the knight himself 40
With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd ?

Thai. He seems to be a stranger ; but his

present is

A wither'd branch, that 's only green at top ;
The motto, ' In hac spe vivo.'

27. Piu por dulzura, etc. 33. Quod, etc. Englished by

Wilkins adds the English Wilkins : ' That which gives me

version : ' More by lenity than life gives me death. '

by force.' 38. Sic spectanda, etc.

30. Mepompa;, etc. Englished Englished by Wilkins : ' So

by Wilkins : ' The desire of re- faith is to be looked into. '

nown drew him to this enter- 44. In hac spe, etc. Englished

prise.' by Wilkins: ' In that hope I live. '

Pericles ACT

Sim. A pretty moral ;
From the dejected state wherein he is,
He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
First Lord. He had need mean better than his

outward show

Can any way speak in his just commend ;
For by his rusty outside he appears
To have practised more the whipstock than the

lance.
Sec. Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he

comes
To an honour'd triumph strangely furnished.

Third Lord. And on set purpose let his armour

rust
Until this day, to scour it in the dust

Sim. Opinion 's but a fool, that makes us scan
The outward habit by the inward man.
But stay, the knights are coming : we will with
draw

Into the gallery. \Exeunt.

\Great shouts within, and all cry 'The mean
knight ! '

SCENE III. The same. A hall of state: a
banquet prepared.

Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants,
and Knights, from tilting.

Sim. Knights,

To say you 're welcome were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-page, your worth in arms,

57. The outward habit by the outward habit by), or a confusion
inward man. Either an awkward of thought,
inversion must be supposed (the

sc. in Pericles

Were more than you expect, or more than 's fit,
Since every worth in show commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast :
You are princes and my guests.

Thai. But you, my knight and guest ;
To whom this wreath of victory I give, 10

And crown you king of this day's happiness.

Per. Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.

Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is yours ;
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed ;
And you are her labour'd scholar. Come, queen

o' the feast, —

For, daughter, so you are, — here take your place :
Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.

Knights. We are honour'd much by good
Simonides. 20

Sim. Your presence glads our days : honour we

love ;
For who hates honour hates the gods above.

Marsha!. Sir, yonder is your place.

Per. Some other is more fit.

first Knight. Contend not, sir ; for we are

gentlemen

That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
Envy the great nor do the low despise.

Per. You are right courteous knights.

Sim. Sit, sir, sit.

\Aside\ By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,
These cates resist .me, he not thought upon.

Thai. [Aside] By Juno, that is queen of marriage, 30
All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury,
Wishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant
gentleman.

29. resist me, repel, are distasteful to.

Pericles ACT n

Sim. \Aside\ He 's but a country gentleman ;
Has done no more than other knights have done ;
Has broken a staff or so ; so let it pass.

Thai. \Aside\ To me he seems like diamond to
glass.

Per. \Aside\ Yon king 's to me like to my father's

picture,

Which tells me in that glory once he was ;
Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
And he the sun, for them to reverence ; 40

None that beheld him, but, like lesser lights,
Did vail their crowns to his supremacy :
Where now his son 's like a glow-worm in the night,
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light :
Whereby I see that Time 's the king of men,
He 's both their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.

Sim. What, are you merry, knights ?

Knights. Who can be other in this royal pre
sence ?

Sim. Here, with a cup that's stored unto the

brim, — $0

As you do love, fill to your mistress' lips, —
We drink this health to you.

Knights. We thank your grace.

Sim. Yet pause awhile :
Yon knight doth sit too melancholy,
As if the entertainment in our court
Had not a show might countervail his worth.
Note it not you, Thaisa?

Thai. What is it

To me, my father?

Sim. O, attend, my daughter :

Princes in this should live like gods above,

42. vail, lower.

50. stored ; Steevens' correction of Qq stur'd, Ff stir^d.
46

sc. in Pericles

Who freely give to every one that comes 60

To honour them :

And princes not doing so are like to gnats,
Which make a sound, but kill'd are wonder'd at.
Therefore to make his entrance more sweet,
Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to
him.

Thai. Alas, my father, it befits not me
Unto a stranger knight to be so bold :
He may my proffer take for an offence,
Since men take women's gifts for impudence.

Sim. How ! 70

Do as I bid you, or you '11 move me else.

Thai. [Aside] Now, by the gods, he could not
please me better.

Sim. And furthermore tell him, we desire to

know of him,
Of whence he is, his name and parentage.

Thai. The king my father, sir, has drunk to you.

Per. I thank him.

Thai. Wishing it so much blood unto your life.

Per. I thank both him and you, and pledge him
freely.

Thai. And further he desires to know of you,
Of whence you are, your name and parentage. 80

Per. A gentleman of Tyre ; my name, Pericles ;
My education been in arts and arms ;
Who, looking for adventures in the world,
Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men
And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.

Thai. He thanks your grace ; names himself
Pericles,

63. kiU d are wonder d at, i.e. 65. standing - bowl, a bowl
prove, in spite of their sound, to resting on a foot.

be marvellously small.

64. entrance (three syllables). 69. impudence, immodesty.

Pericles ACT n

A gentleman of Tyre,

Who only by misfortune of the seas

Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.

Sim. Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune, 90
And will awake him from his melancholy.
Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,
And waste the time, which looks for other revels.
Even in your armours, as you are address'd,
Will very well become a soldier's dance.
I will not have excuse, with saying this
Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads,
Since they love men in arms as well as beds.

\The Knights dance.

So, this was well ask'd, 'twas so well perform'd.
Come, sir ; i<x>

Here is a lady that wants breathing too :
And I have heard, you knights of Tyre
Are excellent in making ladies trip ;
And that their measures are as excellent.

Per. In those that practise them they are, my
lord.

Sim. O, that 's as much as you would be denied
Of your fair courtesy.

[The Knights and Ladies dance.

Unclasp, unclasp :

Thanks, gentlemen, to all ; all have done well,
[To Per.] But you the best. Pages and lights, to

conduct
These knights unto their several lodgings ! [To

Per.] Yours, sir, no

We have given order to be next our own.

Per. I am at your grace's pleasure.

Sim. Princes, it is too late to talk of love ;
And that 's the mark I know you level at :

94. address'd, arrayed.
104. measures, slow and solemn dances.

sc. iv Pericles

Therefore each one betake him to his rest ;
To-morrow all for speeding do their best.

\Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Tyre, A room in the Governor's
house.

Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES.

HeL No, Escanes, know this of me,
Antiochus from incest lived not free :
For which, the most high gods not minding longer
To withhold the vengeance that they had in store,
Due to this heinous capital offence,
Even in the height and pride of all his glory,
When he was seated in a chariot
Of an inestimable'Value, and his daughter with him,
A fire from heaven came and shrivell'd up
Their bodies, even to loathing ; for they so stunk,
That all those eyes adored them ere their fall
Scorn now their hand should give them burial.

Esca. 'Twas very strange.

Hel. And yet but justice ; for though

This king were great, his greatness was no guard
To bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward.

Esca. 'Tis very true.

Enter two or three Lords.

First Lord. See, not a man in private confer
ence
Or council has respect with him but he.

Sec. Lord. It shall no longer grieve without
reproof.

Third Lord. And cursed be he that will not
second it.

VOL. iv 49 E

Pericles ACT n

First Lord. Follow me, then. Lord Helicane,
a word.

Hel. With me ? and welcome : happy day, my
lords.

First Lord. Know that our griefs are risen to

the top,
And now at length they overflow their banks.

Hel. Your griefs ! for what ? wrong not your
prince you love.

First Lord. Wrong not yourself, then, noble

Helicane ;

But if the prince do live, let us salute him,
Or know what ground 's made happy by his breath
If in the world he live, we '11 seek him out ;
If in his grave he rest, we '11 find him there ; 30

And be resolved he lives to govern us,
Or dead, give 's cause to mourn his funeral,
And leave us to our free election.

Sec. Lord. Whose death indeed 's the strongest

in our censure :

And knowing this kingdom is without a head, —
Like goodly buildings left without a roof
Soon fall to ruin,— your noble self,
That best know how to rule and how to reign,
We thus submit unto, — our sovereign.

All. Live, noble Helicane ! 40

Hel. For honour's cause, forbear your suffrages :
If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.
Take I your wish, I leap into the seas,
Where 's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.
A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you
To forbear the absence of your king :
If in which time expired, he not return,

31. be resolved, obtain assur- 43. seas, the troubled waters
ance. of sovereignty.

34. censure, judgment

SC. V

Pericles

I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
But if I cannot win you to this love,
Go search like nobles, like noble subjects, 50

And in your search spend your adventurous worth ;
Whom if you find, and win unto return,
You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.
First Lord. To wisdom he 's a fool that will

not yield ;

And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us,
We with our travels will endeavour us.

Hel. Then you love us, we you, and we '11 clasp

hands :
When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Pentapolis. A room in the palace.

Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door :
the Knights meet him.

First Knight. Good morrow to the good Si-

monides.
Sim. Knights, from my daughter this I let you

know,

That for this twelvemonth she '11 not undertake
A married life.

Her reason to herself is only known,
Which yet from her by no means can I get.

Sec. Knight. May we not get access to her, my

lord?
Sim. 'Faith, by no means ; she hath so strictly

tied

Her to her chamber, that 'tis impossible.
One twelve moons more she '11 wear Diana's livery ;
This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd,
And on her virgin honour will not break it.

Pericles ACT n

Third Knight. Loath to bid farewell, we take
our leaves. \Exeunt Knights.

Sim. So,
They are well dispatch'd ; now to my daughter's

letter :

She tells me here, she '11 wed the stranger knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.
'Tis well, mistress ; your choice agrees with mine ;
I like that well : nay, how absolute she 's in 't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no ! 20

Well, I do commend her choice ;
And will no longer have it be delay'd.
Soft ! here he comes : I must dissemble it.

Enter PERICLES.

Per. All fortune to the good Simonides !

Sim. To you as much, sir ! I am beholding

to you

For your sweet music this last night : I do
Protest my ears were never better fed
With such delightful pleasing harmony.

Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend ;
Not my desert.

Sim. Sir, you are music's master. 30

Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good
lord.

Sim. Let me ask you one thing :
What do you think of my daughter, sir ?

Per. A most virtuous princess.

Sim. And she is fair too, is she not ?

Per. As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.

Sim. Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you ;
Ay, so well, that you must be her master,
And she will be your scholar : therefore look to it.

Per. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster. 40

Sim. She thinks not so ; peruse this writing else.

sc. v Pericles

Per. [Aside] What 's here ?
A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre !
'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.
O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
A stranger and distressed gentleman,
That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.

Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and

thou art
A villain. 5o

Per. By the gods, I have not :
Never did thought of mine levy offence ; '
Nor never did my actions yet commence
A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.

Sim. Traitor, thou liest.

Per. Traitor !

Sim. Ay, traitor.

Per. Even in his throat — unless it be the king —
That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

Sim. [Aside] Now, by the gods, I do applaud
his courage.

Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
That never relish'd of a base descent. 60

I came unto your court for honour's cause,
And not to be a rebel to her state ;
And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This sword shall prove he 's honour's enemy.

Sim. No ?
Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.

Enter THAISA.

Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe

62. her, i.e. honour's. But Wilkins makes it probable that
the corresponding passage in the word should be your.

Pericles ACT m

To any syllable that made love to you. 7o

Thai. Why, sir, say if you had,
Who takes offence at that would make me glad ?

Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory ?
[Aside] I am glad on 't with all my heart. —
I '11 tame you ; I '11 bring you in subjection.
Will you, not having my consent,
Bestow your love and your affections
Upon a stranger ? [Aside] who, for aught I know,
May be, nor can I think the contrary,
As great in blood as I myself. — 80

Therefore hear you, mistress ; either frame
Your will to mine, — and you, sir, hear you,
Either be ruled by me, or I will make you —
Man and wife :

Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too :
And being join'd, I '11 thus your hopes destroy ;
And for a further grief, — God give you joy ! —
What, are you both pleased ?

Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir.

Per. Even as my life my blood that fosters it.

Sim. What, are you both agreed ? 9o

Both. Yes, if it please your majesty.

Sim. It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you

wed ;

And then with what haste you can get you to
bed. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout ;
No din but snores the house about,

i. yslaked, laid to rest.

ACT in Pericles

Made louder by the o'er-fed breast

Of this most pompous marriage-feast. .

The cat, with eyne of burning coal,

Now couches fore the mouse's hole ;

And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,

E'er the blither for their drouth.

Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,

Where, by the loss of maidenhead, 10

A babe is moulded. Be attent,

And time that is so briefly spent

With your fine fancies quaintly eche :

What 's dumb in show I '11 plain with speech.

DUMB SHOW.

Enter, PERICLES and SIMONIDES, at one door,
with Attendants ; a Messenger meets them,
kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES
shows it SIMONIDES ; the Lords kneel to him.
Then enter THAISA with child, with LYCHO-
RIDA a nurse. The KING shows her the letter ;
she rejoices : she and PERICLES take leave of
her father, and depart with LYCHORIDA and
their Attendants. Then exeunt SIMONIDES
and the rest.

By many a dern and painful perch

Of Pericles the careful search,

By the four opposing coigns

Which the world together joins,

Is made with all due diligence

That horse and sail and high expense 20

Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,

4. pompous, splendid. 15. perch, rod (of distance).

13. eche, enlarge. 17. coigns, angles, i.e. the

14. plain, interpret. points of the compass.

15. dern, solitary, gloomy. 21. stead, promote.

Pericles ACT m

Fame answering the most strange inquire,
To the court of King Simonides
Are letters brought, the tenour these :
Antiochus and his daughter dead;
The men of Tyrus on the head
Of Helicanus would set on
The crown of Tyre, but he will none :
The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress ;
Says to 'em, if King Pericles 30

Come not home in twice six moons,
He, obedient to their dooms,
Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Y-ravished the regions round,
And every one with claps can sound,
' Our heir-apparent is a king !
Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing ?
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre :
His queen with child makes her desire — 40

Which who shall cross ? — along to go :
Omit we all their dole and woe :
Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow ; half the flood
Hath their keel cut : but fortune's mood
Varies again ; the grisled north
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives : 50

The lady shrieks, and well-a-near
Does fall in travail with her fear :
And what ensues in this fell storm
Shall for itself itself perform.
I nill relate, action may
Conveniently the rest convey ;
Which might not what by me is told.
56

sc. i Pericles

In your imagination hold

This stage the ship, upon whose deck

The sea-tost Pericles appears to speak. \Exit.

SCENE I.

Enter PERICLES, on shipboard.

Per. Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these

surges,
Which wash both heaven and hell ; and thou,

that hast

Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
Having call'd them from the deep ! O, still
Thy deafening, dreadful thunders ; gently quench
Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes ! O, how, Ly-

chorida,

How does my queen ? Thou storm, venomously
Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle
Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
Unheard. Lychorida ! — Lucina, O 10

Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat ; make swift the pangs
Of my queen's travails !

Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant.

Now, Lychorida !
Lye. Here is a thing too young for such a

place,
Wh'o, if it had conceit, would die, as I

i. vast, boundless sea. irregularity of the old reading,
7. Thou ; Malone's correction 8. The seaman's whistle, i.e.

for Qq Ff then. Dyce's Thou the whistle regularly carried by

stormest •venomously, adopted by the boatswain of a ship. Cf.

Camb. edd. , is less in keeping The Tempest, i. i.

with the situation than the bold 16. conceit, apprehension.

Pericles ACT m

Am like to do : take in your arms this piece
Of your dead queen.

Per. How, how, Lychorida !

Lye. Patience, good sir; do not assist the

storm.

Here 's all that is left living of your queen, 20

A little daughter : for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.

Per. O you gods !

Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
And snatch them straight away ? We here below
Recall not what we give, and therein may
Use honour with you.

Lye. Patience, good sir,

Even for this charge.

Per. Now, mild may be thy life!

For a more blustrous birth had never babe :
Quiet and gentle thy conditions ! for
Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world 3o

That ever was prince's child. Happy what

follows !

Thou hast as chiding a nativity
As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
To herald thee from the womb : even at the first
Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,
With all thou canst find here. Now, the good

gods
Throw their best eyes upon 't !

25. may use honour -with you, as rudely welcome, ' etc. ).
are entitled to enjoy honour on 35. Thy loss is more than

equal terms with you. can thy portage quit, with all

29. thy conditions, the circum- thou canst find here; the child's
stances of thy life. loss even at the outset is such

30. In Wilkins' novel ; that all that it inherits by birth
Pericles here addresses his child falls short of what its birth has
in the Shakespearean phrase : cost. This seems to be the clear
' Poor inch of nature ' ( ' thou art meaning, irregularly expressed.

SC. I

Pericles

Enter two Sailors.

First Sail. What courage, sir ? God save you

Per. Courage enough : I do not fear the flaw ;
It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love 4o
Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,
I would it would be quiet.

First Sail. Slack the bolins there ! Thou wilt
not, wilt thou ? Blow, and split thyself.

Sec. Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy
billow kiss the moon, I care not.

First Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard :
the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not
lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.

Per. That 's your superstition. so

First Sail. Pardon us, sir ; with us at sea it
hath been still observed ; and we are strong in
custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she
must overboard straight.

Per. As you think meet. Most wretched
queen !

Lye. Here she lies, sir.

Per. A terrible childbed hast thou had, my

dear;

No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time
To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight 60
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze,
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,

39. flaw, blast. Sailor in Pericles' following

53. custom; Boswell's certain speech.

correction of Qq Ff 'eastern.' 63. aye-remaining lamps, i.e.

The old texts also interpolate theever-burninglampsof a vault,

the last sentence of the First Qq Ff air-remaining.

Pericles ACT m

Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels ; and bid Nicander
Bring me the satin coffer : lay the babe
Upon the pillow : hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her : suddenly, woman. 7o

[Exit Lychorida.

Sec. Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the
hatches, caulked and bitumed ready.

Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast
is this ?

Sec. Sail. We are near Tarsus.

Per. Thither, gentle mariner,
Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou
reach it?

Sec. Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease.

Per. O, make for Tarsus !
There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus : there I '11 leave it 80

At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner :
I '11 bring the body presently. \Exeunt.

SCENE II. Ephesus. A room in Ccrimon's
house.

Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some
Persons who have been shipwrecked.

Cer. Philemon, ho !

Enter PHILEMON.

Phil. Doth my lord call ?

Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men :

76. thy course for Tyre, i.e. exact expression, which the

thy course which is at present novelist is likely in any case to

for Tyre. Wilkins' novel has have preferred.
' from Tyre ' ; a simpler but less

SC. II

Pericles

'T has been a turbulent and stormy night.

Serv. I have been in many ; but such a night

as this,
Till now, I ne'er endured.

Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return ;
There 's nothing can be minister'd to nature
That can recover him. [To Philemon] Give this

to the 'pothecary,
And tell me how it works.

\Exeunt all but Cerimon.

Enter two Gentlemen.

First Gent. Good morrow. J0

Sec. Gent. Good morrow to your lordship.

Cer. Gentlemen,

Why do you stir so early ?

first Gent. Sir,

Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
Shook as the earth did quake ;
The very principals did seem to rend,
And ail-to topple : pure surprise and fear
Made me to quit the house.

Sec. Gent. That is the cause we trouble you

so early ;
'Tis not our husbandry.

Cer. O, you say well. 20

First Gent. But I much marvel that your

lordship, having

Rich tire about you, should at these early hours
Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
'Tis most strange,
Nature should be so conversant with pain,

16. principals, main beams. stirring" was held particularly

17. ail-to, in pieces. characteristic. Cf. Hen. V. iv.
20. husbandry, zeal for 1.7; Trail, and Cress, i. 2. 7.

business, of which to be 'early 22. tire, (?) furniture.
61

Pericles ACT m

Being thereto not compelPd.

Cer. I hold it ever,

Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
Than nobleness and riches : careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend ;
But immortality attends the former, 3o

Making a man a god. Tis known, I ever
Have studied physic, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have,
Together with my practice, made familiar
To me and to my aid the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones ;
And I can speak of the disturbances
That nature works, and of her cures ; which doth

give me

A more content in course of true delight
Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, 40

Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
To please the fool and death.

See. Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus

pour'd forth

Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
Your creatures, who by you have been restored :
And not your knowledge, your personal pain,

but even

Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never

Enter two or three Servants with a chest,

First Serv. So ; lift there.

Cer. What is that ?

First Serv. Sir, even now

27. cunning, knowledge. old editions substituting ne'er

46. pain, labour. decay. Probably the speech is

48. never . This reading broken off to emphasise the

is found only in Q^ the other strangeness of the interruption.
62

sc. ii Pericles

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest : 50

'Tis of some wreck.

Cer. Set 't down, let 's look upon 't.

Sec. Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir.
Cer. Whate'er it be,

'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight :
If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.
Sec. Gent. 'Tis so, my lord.
Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed !

Did the sea cast it up ?

first Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
As toss'd it upon shore.

Cer. Wrench it open ;

Soft ! it smells most sweetly in my sense.
Sec. Gent. A delicate odour.
Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.
O you most potent gods ! what 's here ? a corse !
First Gent. Most strange !
Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state ; balm'd and

entreasured

With full bags of spices ! A passport too !
Apollo, perfect me in the characters !

\Reads from a scroll.
' Here I give to understand,
If e'er this coffin drive a-land,
I, King Pericles, have lost 70

This queen, worth all our mundane cost.
Who finds her, give her burying ;
She was the daughter of a king :
Besides this treasure for a fee,
The gods requite his charity ! '
If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart
That even cracks for woe ! This chanced to-night.

55. ' Fortune has done well in forcing it to disgorge upon our
coast.'

Pericles ACT m

Sec. Gent. Most likely, sir.

Cer. Nay, certainly to-night ;

For look how fresh she looks ! They were too

rough

That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within : 80
Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.

\Exit a Servant.

Death may usurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
That had nine hours lien dead,
Who was by good appliance recovered.

Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins,
and fire.

Well said, well said ; the fire and cloths.

The rough and woeful music that we have,

Cause it to sound, beseech you.

The viol once more : how thou stirr'st, thou

block ! 9o

The music there ! — I pray you, give her air.
Gentlemen,

This queen will live : nature awakes ; a warmth
Breathes out of her : she hath not been entranced
Above five hours : see how she gins to blow

84 f. This passage is probably Recover'd bodies nine hours lying
corrupt. The corresponding dead-

place in the novel makes the (but / . for Uen ig dear]

cure exercised by, not upon, wrong\ '

• Egyptians ' : • I have read of vioL TheFf andthree later

some Egyptians who, after four Q have w-fl/ ; e . hial- . and u

hours death . have raised is ible that Wilkins under.

impovenshed bodies like to this, stood it SQ| ^ he . , When

unto their former health. Hud- pouring a precious liquor into her

son has plausibly restored the mouth he p^ived warmth,'

etc. But the context strongly

I have heard who hadV'jjffilp. suggests that the reference is to

pliances music.

sc. in Pericles

Into life's flower again !

First Gent, The heavens,

Through you, increase our wonder and set up
Your fame for ever.

Cer. She is alive ; behold,

Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost,
Begin to part their fringes of bright gold ;
The diamonds of a most praised water
Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,
And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
Rare as you seem to be. \Ske moves.

Thai. O dear Diana,

Where am I? Where's my lord? What world
is this ?

Sec. Gent. Is not this strange ?

First Gent. Most rare.

Cer. Hush, my gentle neighbours !

Lend me your hands ; to the next chamber bear

her.

Get linen : now this matter must be look'd to,
For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;
And ^Esculapius guide us !

\Exeunt, carrying her away.

SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Clean's house.

Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHO-
RIDA with MARINA in her arms.

Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be

gone;
My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands

106. Where am I? etc. novel, Cerimon, with a physi-
Thaisa's words are from Gower, clan's instinct, gives a reassuring
Conf. Am. (bk. viii. ). In the answer to her questions.

VOL. IV 65 F

Pericles ACT m

In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,

Take from my heart all thankfulness ! The gods

Make up the rest upon you !

Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt

you mortally,
Yet glance full \vanderingly on us.

Dion. O your sweet queen !

That the strict fates had pleased you had brought

her hither,
To have bless'd mine eyes with her !

Per. We cannot but obey

The powers above us. Could I rage and roar 10
As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,
For she was born at sea, I have named so, here
I charge your charity withal, leaving her
The infant of your care ; beseeching you
To give her princely training, that she may be
Manner'd as she is born.

Cle. Fear not, my lord, but think

Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,
Must in your child be thought on. If neglection 20
Should therein make me vile, the common body,
By you relieved, would force me to my duty :
But if to that my nature need a spur,
The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
To the end of generation !

Per. I believe you ;

Your honour and your goodness teach me to 't,
Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
By bright Diana, whom we honour, all
Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain,
Though I show ill in 't. So I take my leave. 3o

Good madam, make me blessed in your care
In bringing up my child.

sc. iv Pericles

Dion. I have one myself,

Who shall not be more dear to my respect
Than yours, my lord.

Per. Madam, my thanks and prayers.

Cle. We '11 bring your grace e'en *to the edge

o' the shore,

Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and
The gentlest winds of heaven.

Per. I will embrace

Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,
Lychorida, no tears :

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon's
house.

Enter CERIMON and THAISA.

Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain

jewels,

Lay with you in your coffer : which are now
At your command. Know you the character?

That. It is my lord's.

That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
Even on my eaning time ; but whether there
Deliver'd, by the holy gods,
I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,
A vestal livery will I take me to, 10

And never more have joy.

Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,

36. the mask'd Neptune, the was on the point of being de-
sea-god in his calmest aspect. livered.
6. on my eaning time, when I

Pericles ACT

Diana's temple is not distant far,
Where you may abide till your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
Shall there attend you.

Thai. My recompense is thanks, that 's all ;
Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,
Welcomed and settled to his own desire.
His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
Unto Diana there 's a votaress.
Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our fast-growing scene must find
At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd
In music, letters ; who hath gain'd
Of education all the grace,

Which makes her both the heart and place 10
Of general wonder. But, alack,
That monster envy, oft the wrack
Of earned praise, Marina's life
Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
And in this kind hath our Cleon
One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Even ripe for marriage-rite ; this maid
Hight Philoten : and it is said
For certain in our story, she
Would ever with Marina be : 20

4. 's, as. So the old editions. word. But the roughness was
Modern edd. mostly omit the thought to be archaic.

ACT iv Pericles

Be 't when she weaved the sleided silk

With fingers long, small, white as milk ;

Or when she would with sharp needle wound

The cambric, which she made more sound

By hurting it ; or when to the lute

She sung, and made the night-bird mute,

That still records with moan ; or when

She would with rich and constant pen

Vail to her mistress Dian ; still

This Philoten contends in skill 3o

With absolute Marina : so

With the dove of Paphos might the crow

Vie feathers white. Marina gets

All praises, which are paid as debts,

And not as given. This so darks

In Philoten all graceful marks,

That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,

A present murderer does prepare

For good Marina, that her daughter

Might stand peerless by this slaughter. 40

The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,

Lychorida, our nurse, is dead :

And cursed Dionyza hath

The pregnant instrument of wrath

Prest for this blow. The unborn event

I do commend to your content :

Only I carry winged time

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme ;

Which never could I so convey,

Unless your thoughts went on my way. 50

21. sleided, raw, untwisted. 31. absolute, perfectly accom-

23. needle (pron. nee Id}. plished.

45. Prest, ready prepared.

27 -records sings (used 6 your content, the satisfied

especially of the nightingale). attention of the spectators (who

29. Vail, do homage (with will see it represented instead of
odes in Diana's praise). hearing it reported).

Pericles ACT

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer. [Exit.

SCENE I. Tarsus. An open place near the
sea-shore.

Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE.

Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn

to do 't :

'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflaming love i' thy bosom,
Inflame too nicely ; nor let pity, which
Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.

Leon. I will do 't ; but yet she is a goodly

creature.
Dion. The fitter, then, the gods should have 10

her.
Here she comes weeping for her only mistress'

death.

Thou art resolved ?
Leon. I am resolved.

Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers.
Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,

5. inflaming love z" thy bosom ; 6. Inflame too nicely, incite

Knight's reading for Qq in you with over-idle scruples.
flaming thy love bosom, Fff«- fc a s(>m ^ reso,ute

flaming thy love bosom. This

gives a possible meaning. Con- n. for her only mistress'

science, itself 'cold,' kindles death. This line has also

emotion. But it is very probable hitherto defied restoration. Per-

that inflame, or inflaming, or haps mistress is a corruption of

both, conceal a corruption. minion s.

sc. i Pericles

To strew thy green with flowers : the yellows,

blues,

The purple violets, and marigolds,
Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,
While summer-days do last. Ay me ! poor maid,
Born in a tempest, when my mother died,
This world to me is like a lasting storm, 20

Whirring me from my friends.

Dion. How now, Marina ! why do you keep

alone ?

How chance my daughter is not with you ? Do not
Consume your blood with sorrowing : you have
A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour 's changed
With this unprofitable woe !
Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk with Leonine ; the air is quick there,
And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,
Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her. 3o

Mar. No, I pray you ;
I '11 not bereave you of your servant.

Dion. Come, come ;

I love the king your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here : when he shall come and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
He will repent the breadth of his great voyage ;
Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
Walk, and be cheerful once again ; reserve 4o

That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old. Care not for me ;
I can go home alone.

25. of, in. the first half of the next, taking
27. it, (probably) the flowers, it to mean 'the way,' or read-
collectively. Others connect ing with Hudson : ' on the sea
the latter clause of this line with margent. '

Pericles ACT n-

Mar. Well, I will go ;

But yet I have no desire to it.

Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.
Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least :
Remember what I have said.

Leon. I warrant you, madam.

Dion. I '11 leave you, my sweet lady, for a

while :

Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood :
What ! I must have a care of you.

Mar. My thanks, sweet madam. 50

[Exit Dionyza.
Is this wind westerly that blows ?

Leon. South-west.

Mar. When I was borri, the wind was north.

Leon. Was 't so ?

Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
But cried ' Good seamen ! ' to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands, haling ropes ;
And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea
That almost burst the deck.

Leon. When was this?

Mar. When I was born :

Never was waves nor wind more violent ; 60

And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one, 'wilt out?'
And with a dropping industry they skip
From stem to stern : the boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.

Leon. Come, say your prayers.

Mar. What mean you ?

Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,
I grant it : pray ; but be not tedious,
For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn 7o
To do my work with haste.

63. dropping, dripping, drenched.
72

sc. i Pericles

Mar. Why will you kill me ?

Leon. To satisfy my lady.

Mar. Why would she have me kill'd?
Now, as I can remember, by my troth,
I never did her hurt in all my life :
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature : believe me, la,
I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly :
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for it. How have I offended, 80

Wherein my death might yield her any profit,
Or my life imply her any danger?

Leon. My commission
Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.

Mar. You will not do 't for all the world, I

hope.

You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow
You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
When you caught hurt in parting two that fought :
Good sooth, it show'd well in you : do so now :
Your lady seeks my life ; come you between, 90

And save poor me, the weaker.

Leon. I am sworn,

And will dispatch. \He seizes her.

Enter Pirates.

First Pirate. Hold, villain !

\Leonine runs away.
Sec. Pirate. A prize ! a prize !
Third Pirate. Half- part, mates, half- part.
Come, let 's have her aboard suddenly.

[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.

Re-enter LEONINE.

Leon. These roguing thieves serve the great
pirate Valdes ;

Pericles ACT

And they have seized Marina. Let her go :
There 's no hope she will return. I '11 swear she 's

dead,

And thrown into the sea. But I '11 see further : 1
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.

[Exit.

SCENE II. Mytikne. A room in a brotheL

Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT.

Pand. Boult!

Boult. Sir ?

Pand. Search the market narrowly ; Mytilene
is full of gallants. We lost too much money this
mart by being too wenchless.

Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures.
We have but poor three, and they can do no more
than they can do ; and they with continual action
are even as good as rotten.

Pand. Therefore let 's have fresh ones, what-
e'er we pay for them. If there be not a con
science to be used in every trade, we shall never
prosper.

Bawd. Thou sayest true : 'tis not our bringing
up of poor bastards, — as, I think, I have brought
up some eleven —

Boult. Ay, to eleven ; and brought them down
again. But shall I search the market ?

Bawd. What else, man ? The stuff we have,
a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so
pitifully sodden.

Pand. Thou sayest true ; they 're too unwhole-

17. to eleven, to the age of eleven.

sc. ii Pericles

some, o' conscience. The poor Transylvanian is
dead, that lay with the little baggage.

Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him, she made
him roast-meat for worms. But I '11 go search the
market. \Exit.

Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were
as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give
over. 3o

Bawd. Why to give over, I pray you ? is it a
shame to get when we are old ?

Pand. O, our credit comes not in like the
commodity, nor the commodity wages not with
the danger : therefore, if in our youths we could
pick up some pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to
keep our door hatched. Besides, the sore terms
we stand upon with the gods will be strong with
us for giving over.

Bawd. Come, other sorts offend as well as we. 40

Pand. As well as we ! ay, and better too ; we
offend worse. Neither is our profession any trade ;
it 's no calling. But here comes Boult.

Re-enter BOULT, with the Pirates and MARINA.

Boult. \To Marina] Come your ways. My
masters, you say she 's a virgin ?

first Pirate. O, sir, we doubt it not.

Boult. Master, I have gone through for this
piece, you see : if you like her, so ; if not, I have
lost my earnest.

Bawd. Boult, has she any qualities ? so

Boult. She has a good face, speaks well, and

25. pooped, despatched ; 37. hatched, closed (with a

properly said of a ship fatally half-door),

struck by the wind. 47. gone through, done my

29. as pretty a proportion, a utmost, made the highest

fair enough portion (to live on, offer,

giving up our business). 48. piece, creature.

Pericles

ACT IV

has excellent good clothes : there 's no further
necessity of qualities can make her be refused.

Ba^vd. What 's her price, Boult ?

Boult. I cannot be bated one doit of a thou
sand pieces.

Pand. Well, follow me, my masters, you shall

have your money presently. Wife, take her in ;

instruct her what she has to do, that she may not

be raw in her entertainment. 60

\Exeunt Pandar and Pirates.

Bawd. Boult, take you the marks of her, the
colour of her hair, complexion, height, age, with
warrant of her virginity ; and cry ' He that will
give most shall have her first.' Such a maiden
head were no cheap thing, if men were as they
have been. Get this done as I command you.

Boult. Performance shall follow. \Exit.

Mar. Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow !
He should have struck, not spoke ; or that these

pirates,

Not enough barbarous, had not o'erboard thrown me 70
For to seek my mother !

Bawd. Why lament you, pretty one ?

Mar. That I am pretty.

Bawd. Come, .the gods have done their part
in you.

Mar. I accuse them not.

Bawd. You are light into my hands, where
you are like to live.

Mar. The more my fault
To scape his hands where I was like to die. 80

Bawd. Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.

Mar. No.

Bawd. Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentle-

55. I cannot be bated, I cannot me.
get them to reduce the price to 78. live, pass your life.

sc. ii Pericles

men of all fashions : you shall fare well ; you shall
have the difference of all complexions. What ! do
you stop your ears ?

Mar. Are you a woman ?

Bawd. What would you have me be, an I be
not a woman ?

Mar. An honest woman, or not a woman. 90

Bawd. Marry, whip thee, gosling : I think I
shall have something to do with you. Come,
you 're a young foolish sapling, and must be
bowed as I would have you.

Mar. The gods defend me !

Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by
men, then men must comfort you, men must feed
you, men must stir you up. Boult 's returned.

Re-enter BOULT.

Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market ?

Boult. I have cried her almost to the number i<x>
of her hairs ; I have drawn her picture with my
voice.

Bawd. And I prithee tell me, how dost thou
find the inclination of the people, especially of
the younger sort ?

Boult. 'Faith, they listened to me as they
would have hearkened to their father's testament.
There was a Spaniard's mouth so watered, that
he went to bed to her very description.

Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow with no
his best ruff on.

Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do
you know the French knight that cowers i' the
hams?

Bawd. Who, Monsieur Veroles ?

Boult. Ay, he : he offered to cut a caper at

1 1 6. offered, made an effort, — which resulted only in a 'groan.'

120

Pericles ACT

the proclamation ; but he made a groan at it, and
swore he would see her to-morrow.

Bawd. Well, well ; as for him, he brought his
disease hither : here he does but repair it. I know
he will come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns
in the sun.

Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a traveller,
we should lodge them with this sign.

Bawd. [To Mar.] Pray you, come hither
awhile. You have fortunes coming upon you.
Mark me: you must seem to do that fearfully
which you commit willingly, despise profit where
you have most gain. To weep that you live as
ye do makes pity in your lovers : seldom but that i30
pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion
a mere profit.

Mar. I understand you not.

Boult. O, take her home, mistress, take her
home : these blushes of hers must be quenched
with some present practice.

Bawd. Thou sayest true, i' faith, so they
must ; for your bride goes to that with shame
which is her way to go with warrant.

Boult. 'Faith, some do, and some do not. But, I40
mistress, if I have bargained for the joint, —

Bawd. Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.

Boult. I may so.

Bawd. Who should deny it? Come, young
one, I like the manner of your garments well.

Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be
changed yet.

Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town :
report what a sojourner we have; you'll lose
nothing by custom. When nature framed this J50

132. mere, pure, unalloyed. custom, you will profit by the
149. you'll lose nothing by customers you procure
73

sc. in Pericles

piece, she meant thee a good turn ; therefore say
what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest
out of thine own report.

Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall
not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out
her beauty stir up the lewdly-inclined. I '11 bring
home some to-night.

Bawd. Come your ways ; follow me.

Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters

deep,

Untied I still my virgin knot will keep. 160

Diana, aid my purpose !

Bawd. What have we to do with Diana ? Pray
you, will you go with us ? [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleorfs house.

Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.

Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be un
done ?

Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon !

Dion. I think

You '11 turn a child again.

Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious

world,

I 'Id give it to undo the deed. O lady,
Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o' the earth
I' the justice of compare ! O villain Leonine !
Whom thou hast poison'd too :
If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness
Becoming well thy fact : what canst thou say

12. fact, crime.

Pericles ACT iv

When noble Pericles shall demand his child ?

Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the

fates,

To foster it, nor ever to preserve.
She died at night ; I '11 say so. Who can cross it ?
Unless you play the pious innocent,
And for an honest attribute cry out
' She died by foul play.'

Cle. O, go to. Well, well,

Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods 20
Do like this worst.

Dion. Be one of those that think

The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit.

Cle. To such proceeding

Who ever but his approbation added,
Though not his prime consent, he did not flow
From honourable sources.

Dion. Be it so, then :

Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone. 3o

She did distain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes : none would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face ;
Whilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin
Not worth the time of day. It pierced me

thorough ;

And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness

1 8. for an honest attribute, at ; derided.

to gain the title of an honourable 34. a malkin not worth the

man. time of day, a common wench

34. blurted at, cried ' pish ' not worth greeting.

sc. iv Pericles

Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle. Heavens forgive it !

Dion. And as for Pericles, 40

What should he say ? We wept after her hearse,
And yet we mourn : her monument
Is almost finish 'd, and her epitaphs
In glittering golden characters express
A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expense 'tis done.

Cle. Thou art like the harpy,

Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
Seize with thine eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one that superstitiously
Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies : 50
But yet I know you '11 do as I advise. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter GOWER, before the monument of MARINA
at Tarsus.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues

make short ;

Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for 't ;
Making, to take your imagination,
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language in each several clime
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech

you
To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach

you,

The stages of our story. Pericles
Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,

2. have an wish but for' t, have a wish merely by wishing.
VOL. IV 8 1 G

Pericles ACT iv

Attended on by many a lord and knight,

To see his daughter, all his life's delight.

Old Helicanus goes along. Behind

Is left to govern it, you bear in mind,

Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late

Advanced in time to great and high estate.

Well -sailing ships and bounteous winds have

brought

This king to Tarsus, — think his pilot thought ;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow

on, —

To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone. so
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile ;
Your ears unto your eyes I '11 reconcile.

DUMB SHOW.

Enter PERICLES, at one door, with all his train ;
CLEON and DIONYZA, at the other. CLEON
shows PERICLES the tomb ; whereat PERICLES
makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in
a mighty passion departs. Then exeunt CLEON
and DIONYZA.

See how belief may suffer by foul show !

This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe ;

And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,

With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'er-

shower'd,

Leaves Tarsus and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs :

13-16. These lines were radi- 18. think his pilot thought,

cally rearranged by Steevens, suppose thought his pilot ; then

whom most modern edd. have your own thoughts will keep

followed. Daniel's punctua- pace with the thought-like swift-

tion, though not convincing, ness of his voyage,

gives a fair sense to the original 19. steerage, steering,

order. 24. passion, grief.

sc. v Pericles

He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears

A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears, 30

And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit

The epitaph is for Marina writ

By wicked Dionyza.

[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.
'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year.
She was of Tyrus the king's daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter ;
Marina was she call'd ; and at her birth,
Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the

earth :

Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd, 40

Hath Thetis' birth - child on the heavens be-

stow'd :
Wherefore she does, and swears she '11 never

stint,
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.'

No visor does become black villany

So well as soft and tender flattery.

Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,

And bear his courses to be ordered

By Lady Fortune ; while our scene must play

His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day

In her unholy service. Patience, then, So

And think you now are all in Mytilene. \Exit.

SCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.

Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen.

First Gent. Did you ever hear the like ?
Sec. Gent. No, nor never shall do in such a
place as this, she being once gone.

83 "

Pericles ACT

First Gent. But to have divinity preached there !
did you ever dream of such a thing ?

Sec. Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more
bawdy-houses : shall 's go hear the vestals sing ?

first Gent. I '11 do any thing now that is vir
tuous ; but I am out of the road of rutting for
ever. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The same. A room in the brothel.

Enter Pandar, Ba\vd, and BOULT.

Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the worth
of her she had ne'er come here.

Bawd. Fie, fie upon her ! she 's able to freeze
the god Priapus, and undo a whole generation.
We must either get her ravished, or be rid of her.
When she should do for clients her fitment, and
do me the kindness of our profession, she has me
her quirks, her reasons, her master reasons, her
prayers, her knees ; that she would make a puri
tan of the devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her. 10

Boult. 'Faith, I must ravish her, or she '11
disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make our
swearers priests.

Pand. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness
for me !

Bawd. 'Faith, there 's no way to be rid on 't
but by the way to the pox. Here comes the Lord
Lysimachus disguised.

Boult. We should have both lord and lown,
if the peevish baggage would but give way to 20
customers.

7. shall 's shall we ; through the analogy of 'let us.1
84

sc. vi Pericles

Enter LYSIMACHUS.

Lys. How now ! How a dozen of virginities ?

Bawd. Now, the gods to bless your honour !

Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good
health.

Lys. You may so ; 'tis the better for you that
your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now !
wholesome iniquity have you that a man may
deal withal, and defy the surgeon ?

Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she would — 3o
but there never came her like in Mytilene.

Lys. If she 'Id do the deed of darkness, thou
wouldst say.

Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say
well enough.

Lys. Well, call forth, call forth.

Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red,
you shall see a rose ; and she were a rose indeed,
if she had but —

Lys. What, prithee? 40

Boult. O, sir, I can be modest.

Lys. That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no
less than it gives a good report to a number to be
chaste. \Exit Boult.

Bawd. Here comes that which grows to the
stalk ; never plucked yet, I can assure you.

Re-enter BOULT with MARINA.

Is she not a fair creature ?

Lys. 'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage
at sea. Well, there 's for you : leave us.

Bawd. I beseech your honour, give me leave : So
a word, and I '11 have done presently.

43- gives a good report to a modesty) gives many the reputa-
number to be chaste, (outward tion of chastity.

Pericles ACT iv

Lys, I beseech you, do.

Bawd. [To Marina\ First, I would have you •
note, this is an honourable man.

Mar. I desire to find him so, that I may
worthily note him.

Bawd. Next, he 's the governor of this country,
and a man whom I am bound to.

Mar. If he govern the country, you are bound
to him indeed ; but how honourable he is in that, 60
I know not.

Bawd. Pray you, without any more virginal
fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line
your apron with gold.

Mar. What he will do graciously, I will thank
fully receive.

Lys. Ha' you done?

Bawd. My lord, she 's not paced yet : you
must take some pains to work her to your manage.
Come, we will leave his honour and her together. 70
Go thy ways. \Exeunt Bawd, Pandar, and Boult.

Lys. Now, pretty one, how long have you
been at this trade ?

Mar. What trade, sir?

Lys. Why, I cannot name 't but I shall offend.

Mar. I cannot be offended with my trade.
Please you to name it.

Lys. How long have you been of this profession?

Mar. E'er since I can remember.

Lys. Did you go to 't so young ? Were you a 80
gamester at five or at seven ?

Mar. Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.

Lys. Why, the house you dwell in proclaims
you to be a creature of sale.

Mar. Do you know this house to be a place
of such resort, and will come into 't ? I hear say

69. manage, government (of a horse).

sc. vi Pericles

you are of honourable parts, and are the governor
of this place.

Lys. Why, hath your principal made known
unto you who I am ? 90

Mar. Who is my principal ?

Lys. Why, your herb-woman ; she that sets
seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. O, you
have heard something of my power, and so stand
aloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to
thee, pretty one, my authority shall not see thee,
or else look friendly upon thee. Come, bring me
to some private place : come, come.

Mar. If you were born to honour, show it now;
If put upon you, make the judgement good 100

That thought you worthy of it.

Lys. How 's this ? how 's this ? Some more ;
be sage.

Mar. For me,

That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
Have placed me in this sty, where, since I came,
Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,
O, that the gods

Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies i' the purer air !

Lys. I did not think

Thou couldst have spoke so well ; ne'er dream'd

thou couldst. no

Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,
Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here 's gold for thee :
Persever in that clear way thou goest,
And the gods strengthen thee !

Mar. The good gods preserve you !

Lys. For me, be you thoughten

100. If put upon you, if your honour was conferred, not inborn.
115. be you thoughten, believe.

Pericles ACT iv

That I came with no ill intent ; for to me

The very doors and windows savour vilely.

Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, and

I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.

Hold, here 's more gold for thee. 120

A curse upon him, die he like a thief,

That robs thee of thy goodness ! If thou dost

Hear from me, it shall be for thy good.

Re-enter BOULT.

Boult. I beseech your honour, one piece for
me.

Lys. Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper !
Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it,
Would sink and overwhelm you. Away ! \_Exit.

Boult. How's this? We must take another
course with you. If your peevish chastity, 130
which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest
country under the cope, shall undo a whole
household, let me be gelded like a spaniel.
Come your ways.

Mar. Whither would you have me ?

Boult. I must have your maidenhead taken
off, or the common hangman shall execute it.
Come your ways. We '11 have no more gentle
men driven away. Come your ways, I say.

Re-enter Bawd.

Bawd. How now ! what 's the matter? 140

Boult. Worse and worse, mistress ; she has
here spoken holy words to the Lord Lysimachus.

Bawd. O abominable !

Boult. She makes our profession as it were to
stink afore the face of the gods.

Bawd. Marry, hang her up for ever !
132. the cope, the vault of heaven.

sc. vi Pericles

Boult, The nobleman would have dealt with
her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as
cold as a snowball : saying his prayers too.

Bawd. Boult, take her away ; use her at thy 150
pleasure : crack the glass of her virginity, and
make the rest malleable.

Boult. An if she were a thornier piece of
ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.

Mar. Hark, hark, you gods !

Bawd. She conjures : away with her ! Would
she had never come within my doors ! Marry,
hang you ! She 's born to undo us. Will you
not go the way of women-kind ? Marry, come
up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays ! 160

{Exit.

Boult. Come, mistress ; come your ways with
me.

Mar. Whither wilt thou have me ?

Boult. To take from you the jewel you hold
so dear.

Mar. Prithee, tell me one thing first.

Boult. Come now, your one thing.

Mar. What canst thou wish thine enemy to be ?

Boult. Why, I could wish him to be my master,
or rather, my mistress. 170

Mar. Neither of these are so bad as thou art,
Since they do better thee in their command.
Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend
Of hell would not in reputation change :
Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every
Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib ;
To the choleric fisting of every rogue

160. rosemary and bays; 176. Tib, cant term for a low
commonly used as a garnishing woman.
for various dishes at Christmas.

176. Coistrel, base fellow. 177. fisting, clutch.

Pericles ACT iv

Thy ear is liable ; thy food is such

As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.

Boult. What would you have me do? go to 180
the wars, would you ? where a man may serve
seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not
money enough in the end to buy him a wooden
one?

Mar. Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty
Old receptacles, or common shores, of filth ;
Serve by indenture to the common hangman :
Any of these ways are yet better than this ;
For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak,
Would own a name too dear. O, that the gods 190
Would safely deliver me from this place !
Here, here 's gold for thee.
If that thy master would gain by me,
Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
With other virtues, which I '11 keep from boast ;
And I will undertake all these to teach.
I doubt not but this populous city will
Yield many scholars.

Boult. But can you teach all this you speak of?

Mar. Prove that I cannot, take me home again, 200
And prostitute me to the basest groom
That doth frequent your house.

Boult. Well, I will see what I can do for thee :
if I can place thee, I will.

Mar. But amongst honest women.

Boult. 'Faith, my acquaintance lies little
amongst them. But since my master and mis
tress have bought you, there 's no going but by
their consent : therefore I will make them ac
quainted with your purpose, and I doubt not but 210
I shall find them tractable enough. Come, I '11
do for thee what I can ; come your ways. [Exeunt.

1 86. shores, sewers.
90

ACT v Pericles

ACT V

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Marina thus the brothel 'scapes, and

chances

Into an honest house, our story says.
She sings like one immortal, and she dances
As goddess-like to her admired lays ;
Deep clerks she dumbs ; and with her neeld com
poses

Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry,
That even her art sisters the natural roses ;
Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry :
That pupils lacks she none of noble race,
Who pour their bounty on her ; and her gain 10

She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place ;
And to her father turn our thoughts again,
Where we left him, on the sea. We there him

lost;

Whence, driven before the winds, he is arrived
Here where his daughter dwells ; and on this coast
Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived
God Neptune's annual feast to keep : from whence
Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,
His banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense ;
And to him in his barge with fervour hies. 20

In your supposing once more put your sight
Of heavy Pericles ; think this his bark :

8. inkle, a kind of tape. Pericles, once more imagine

21. In your supposing once that you see the sorrowful
more put your sight of heavy Pericles.

Pericles AC-

Where what is done in action, more, if might,
Shall be discover'd ; please you, sit and hark.

[Exit.

SCENE I. On board Pericles' ship, off Mytilene.
A close pavilion on deck, with a curtain before
it ; Pericles within it, reclined on a couch. A
barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.

Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel,
the other to the barge ; to them HELICANUS.

Tyr. Sail. [To the Sailor of Mytilene\ Where

is Lord Helicanus ? he can resolve you.
O, here he is.

Sir, there 's a barge put off from Mytilene,
And in it is Lysimachus the governor,
Who craves to come aboard. What is your will ?
Hel. That he have his. Call up some gentle
men.
Tyr. Sail. Ho, gentlemen ! my lord calls.

Enter hc>o or three Gentlemen.

First Gent. Doth your lordship call ?

Hel. Gentlemen, there 's some of worth would

come aboard ;

I pray ye, greet them fairly. I0

[The Gentlemen and the two Sailors descend,
and go on board the barge.

Enter, from thence, LYSIMACHUS and Lords ; with
the Gentlemen and the two Sailors.

Tyr. Sail. Sir,

23. more, if might, i.e. the fully set forth if the conditions
supposed action would be more of the stage allowed.

SC. I

Pericles

This is the man that can, in aught you would,
Resolve you.

Lys, Hail, reverend sir ! the gods preserve you !

HeL And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
And die as I would do.

Lys. You wish me well.

Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,
Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
I made to it, to know of whence you are.

HeL First, what is your place ? 20

Lys. I am the governor of this place you lie
before.

HeL Sir,

Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king ;
A man who for this three months hath not spoken
To any one, nor taken sustenance
But to prorogue his grief.

Lys. Upon what ground is his distemperature ?

HeL 'Twould be too tedious to repeat ;
But the main grief springs from the loss
Of a beloved daughter and a wife. 3o

Lys. May we not see him?

HeL You may ;

But bootless is your sight : he will not speak
To any.

Lys. Yet let me obtain my wish.

HeL Behold him. [Pericles discovered^ This

was a goodly person,
Till the disaster that, one mortal night,
Drove him to this.

Lys. Sir king, all hail ! the gods preserve you !
Hail, royal sir ! 4o

26. prorogue, prolong, linger in more detail : ' with a long

out. He has eaten only enough to overgrown beard, diffused hair,

keep him in languishing sorrow. undecent nails on his fingers,

36. [Pericles discovered.] and himself lying upon his couch,

Wilkins describes his condition grovelling on his face.'

Pericles ACT v

Hel. It is in vain ; he will not speak to you.

First Lord. Sir,

We have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,
Would win some words of him.

Lys. 'Tis well bethought.

She questionless with her sweet harmony
And other chosen attractions, would allure,
And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
Which now are midway stopp'd :
She is all happy as the fairest of all,
And, with her fellow maids, is now upon s°

The leafy shelter that abuts against
The island's side.

[ Whispers a Lord, who goes off in the
barge of Lysimachus.

Hel, Sure, all 's effectless ; yet nothing we '11

omit
That bears recovery's name. But, since your

kindness

We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you
That for our gold we may provision have,
Wherein we are not destitute for want,
But weary for the staleness.

Lys. O, sir, a courtesy

Which if we should deny, the most just gods
For every graff would send a caterpillar, 60

And so inflict our province. Yet once more
Let me entreat to know at large the cause
Of your king's sorrow.

Hel. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you :

But, see, I am prevented.

49. happv, accomplished. her fellow maids now upon.'
S°v; ^ line has been patched fio ff f ^

up by Malone and Steevens.

The Qq and Ff have: 'And 61. inflict, afflict.

sc. i Pericles

Re-enter, from the barge, Lord, with MARINA,
and a young Lady.

Lys. O, here is

The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one !
Is 't not a goodly presence ?

Hel. She 's a gallant lady.

Lys. She 's such a one, that, were I well

assured

Came of a gentle kind and noble stock,
I 'Id wish no better choice, and think me rarely

wed.

Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty 70

Expect even here, where is a kingly patient :
If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
As thy desires can wish.

Mar. Sir, I will use

My utmost skill in his recovery,
Provided

That none but I and my companion maid
Be suffer'd to come near him.

Lys. Come, let us leave her;

And the gods make her prosperous ! 80

\Marina sings.

Lys. Mark'd he your music?

Mar. No, nor look'd on us.

Lys. See, she will speak to him.

Mar. Hail, sir ! my lord, lend ear.

Per. Hum, ha !

Mar. I am a maid,

67. that, were I well assured 72. artificial feat, dexterous
came. The construction is performance ; prosperous is pro-
idiomatic, the subject of came leptic, anticipating the success
being supplied from the relative of the 'feat,' which is still in
that. question. Cf. v. 80.

Pericles

ACT V

My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,
But have been gazed on like a comet : she speaks,
My lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief
Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.
Though wayward fortune did malign my state, 90

My derivation was from ancestors
Who stood equivalent with mighty kings :
But time hath rooted out my parentage,
And to the world and awkward casualties
Bound me in servitude. \Aside\ I will desist ;
But there is something glows upon my cheek,
And whispers in mine ear ' Go not till he speak.'
Per. My fortunes — parentage — good parent
age —

To equal mine ! — was it not thus ? what say you ?
Mar. I said, my lord, if you did know my

parentage, J0o

You would not do me violence.

Per. I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes

upon me.

You are like something that — What country
woman ?
Here of these shores ?

Mar. No, nor of any shores :

Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I appear.

Per. I am great with woe, and shall deliver

weeping.

My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one
My daughter might have been : my queen's square
brows ;

94. awkward, adverse. in resentment at her presump

tion : ' presumptuous beauty in

95. He may be supposed here a child, how darest thou urge so
to hold her from him at arm's much? and therewithal in this
length (cf. v. 127); but certainly rash distemperature, struck her
not, as the novelist thought, in the face.'

SC. I

Pericles

Her stature to an inch ; as wand-like straight ; no
As silver-voiced ; her eyes as jewel-like
And cased as richly ; in pace another Juno ;
Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them

hungry,

The more she gives them speech. Where do you
live?

Mar. Where I am but a stranger : from the deck
You may discern the place.

Per. Where were you bred ?

And how achieved you these endowments, which
You make more rich to owe ?

Mar. If I should tell my history, it would seem
Like lies disdain'd in the reporting.

Per. Prithee, speak : 120

Falseness cannot come from thee ; for thou look'st
Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
For the crown'd Truth to dwell in : I will believe

thee,

And make my senses credit thy relation
To points that seem impossible ; for thou look'st
Like one I loved indeed. What were thy fiiends?
Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back —
Which was when I perceived thee — that thou

earnest
From good descending ?

Mar. So indeed I did.

Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou said'st 130
Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,
And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal

mine,
If both were open'd.

Mar. Some such thing

I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
Did warrant me was likely.

1 1 8. to owe, by possessing them.
VOL. IV 97 H

Pericles ACT v

Per. Tell thy story ;

If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
Have suffer'd like a girl : yet thou dost look
Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends ? 140
How lost thou them ? Thy name, my most kind

virgin ?
Recount, I do beseech thee : come, sit by me.

Mar. My name is Marina.

Per. O, I am mock'd,

And thou by some incensed god sent hither
To make the world to laugh at me.

Mar. Patience, good sir,

Or here I '11 cease.

Per. Nay, I '11 be patient.

Thou little know'st .how thou dost startle me
To call thyself Marina.

Mar. The name

Was given me by one that had some power, iso

My father, and a king.

Per. How ! a king's daughter ?

And call'd Marina ?

Mar. You said you would believe me ;

But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.

Per. But are you flesh and blood ?

Have you a working pulse ? and are no fairy?
Motion ! Well ; speak on. Where were you

born ?
And wherefore call'd Marina ?

Mar. Call'd Marina

139. smiling extremity out be understood, with Dyce, as

of act, smiling frantic sorrow intimating his discovery that

into self-control. Marina has ' a working pulse.'

156. Motion! Probably to

SC. I

Pericles

For I was born at sea.

Per. At sea ! what mother ?

Mar. My mother was the daughter of a king ;
Who died the minute I was born, 160

As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver'd weeping.

Per. O, stop there a little !

\Aside\ This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep
Did mock sad fools withal : this cannot be :
My daughter 's buried. Well : where were you

bred?

I '11 hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.

Mar. You scorn : believe me, 'twere best I did
give o'er.

Per. I will believe you by the syllable
Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave : 170
How came you in these parts ? where were you
bred?

Mar. The king my father did in Tarsus leave

me ;

Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
Did seek to murder me : and having woo'd
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me ;
Brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir,
Whither will you have me ? Why do you weep ?

It may be,

You think me an impostor : no, good faith ;
I am the daughter to King Pericles, 180

If good King Pericles be.

Per. Ho, Helicanus !

Hel Calls my lord ?

Per. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
Most wise in general : tell me, if thou canst,
What this maid is, or what is like to be,

Pericles ACT v

That thus hath made me weep?

Hel. I know not ; but

Here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene
Speaks nobly of her.

Lys. She would never tell

Her parentage ; being demanded that, 190

She would sit still and weep.

Per. O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;
Give me a gash, put me to present pain ;
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me
O'erbear the shores of my mortality,
And drown me with their sweetness. O, come

hither,

Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget ;
Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,
And found at sea again ! O Helicanus,
Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud 200
As thunder threatens us : this is Marina.
What was thy mother's name ? tell me but that,
For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
Though doubts did ever sleep.

Mar. First, sir, I pray,

What is your title ?

Per. 1 am Pericles of Tyre : but tell me now
My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said
Thou hast been godlike perfect, the heir of kingdoms
And another like to Pericles thy father. 210

Mar. Is it no more to be your daughter than
To say my mother's name was Thaisa ?
Thaisa was my mother, who did end
The minute I began.

206-210. The sense, as shown prove in addition the heir of

by Marina's ensuing question, kingdoms and another Pericles.'

clearly is: ' Tell me my drown'd Some such words as ' thou art

queen's name, and, as thou hast then' are probably lost before

shown thyself of godlike per- _ the heir.
fection in all the rest, thou wilt

100

sc. i Pericles

Per. Now, blessing on thee ! rise ; thou art my

child.

Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus ;
She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,
By savage Cleon : she shall tell thee all :
When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
She is thy very princess. Who is this ?

Hel. Sir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
Did come to see you.

Per. I embrace you.

Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.

0 heavens bless my girl ! But, hark, what music ?
Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him

O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
How sure you are my daughter. But, what music ?

Hel. My lord, I hear none.

Per. None !
The music of the spheres ! List, my Marina.

Lys. It is not good to cross him ; give him way.

Per. Rarest sounds ! Do ye not hear ?

Lys. My lord, I hear. \Mitsic.

Per. Most heavenly music !
It nips me unto listening, and thick slumber
Hangs upon mine eyes : let me rest. \Sleeps.

Lys. A pillow for his head :
So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends,
If this but answer to my just belief,

1 '11 well remember you.

\Exeunt all but Pericles.

DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision.

Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus ; hie thee

thither,
And do upon mine altar sacrifice.

217. should have b(en, was said to be.
101

Pericles ACT v

There, when my maiden priests are met together,

Before the people all,

Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife :

To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call

And give them repetition to the life.

Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe ;

Do it, and happy ; by my silver bow !

Awake, and tell thy dream. [Disappears. 2So

Per. Celestial Dian, goddess argentine,
I will obey thee. Helicanus !

Re-enter HELICANUS, LYSIMACHUS, and
MARINA.

Hel. Sir?

Per. My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike
The inhospitable Cleon ; but I am
For other service first : toward Ephesus
Turn our blown sails ; eftsoons I '11 tell thee why.
[To Lysimachus] Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your

shore,

And give you gold for such provision
As our intents will need ?

Lys. Sir, 260

With all my heart ; and, when you come ashore,
I have another suit.

Per. You shall prevail,

Were it to woo my daughter ; for it seems
You have been noble towards her.

Lys. Sir, lend me your arm.

Per. Come, my Marina. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Enter GOWER, before the temple of
DIANA at Ephesus.

Gow. Now our sands are almost run ;
More a little, and then dumb.
102

sc. in Pericles

This, my last boon, give me,

For such kindness must relieve me,

That you aptly will suppose 270

What pageantry, what feats, what shows,

What minstrelsy, and pretty din,

The regent made in Mytilene

To greet the king. So he thrived,

That he is promised to be wived

To fair Marina ; but in no wise

Till he had done his sacrifice,

As Dian bade : whereto being bound,

The interim, pray you, all confound.

In featherd briefness sails are fill'd, 280

And wishes fall out as they're will'd.

At Ephesus, the temple see,

Our king and all his company.

That he can hither come so soon,

Is by your fancy's thankful doom. \Exit.

SCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus ;
THAISA standing near the altar, as high
priestess ; a number of Virgins on each side ;
CERIMON and other Inhabitants of Ephesus
attending.

Enter PERICLES, with his train ; LYSIMACHUS,
HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady.

Per. Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command,
I here confess myself the King of Tyre ;
Who, frighted from my country, did wed
At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.
At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth
A maid-child call'd Marina ; who, O goddess,
Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus
103

Pericles ACT v

Was nursed with Cleon ; who at fourteen years
He sought to murder : but her better stars
Brought her to Mytilene ; 'gainst whose shore 10

Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,
Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she
Made known herself my daughter.

Thai. Voice and favour !

You are, you are — O royal Pericles ! [Faints.

Per. What means the nun ? she dies ! help,
gentlemen !

Cer. Noble sir,

If you have told Diana's altar true,
This is your wife.

Per. Reverend appearer, no ;

I threw her overboard with these very arms.

Cer. Upon this coast, I warrant you.

Per. Tis most certain. 20

Cer. Look to the lady ; O, she 's but o'erjoyed.
Early in blustering morn this lady was
Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,
Found there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed

her
Here in Diana's temple.

Per. May we see them ?

Cer. Great sir, they shall be brought you to my

house,

Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is
Recovered.

Thai. O, let me look !
If he be none of mine, my sanctity
Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,
Are you not Pericles ? Like him you spake,
Like him you are : did you not name a tempest,
A birth, and death ?

Per. The voice of dead Thaisa !

104

sc. in Pericles

Thai. That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
And drown'd.

Per. Immortal Dian !

Thai. Now I know you better.

When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
The king my father gave you such a ring.

[Shows a ring.

Per, This, this : no more, you gods ! your

present kindness 4o

Makes my past miseries sports : you shall do

well,

That on the touching of her lips I may
Melt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried
A second time within these arms.

Mar. My heart

Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.

\Kneels to Thaisa.

Per. Look, who kneels here ! Flesh of thy

flesh, Thaisa;

Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina
For she was yielded there.

Thai. Blest, and mine own !

Hel. Hail, madam, and my queen !

Thai. I know you not.

Per. You have heard me say, when I did fly

from Tyre, So

I left behind an ancient substitute :
Can you remember what I call'd the man ?
I have named him oft.

Thai. 'Twas Helicanus then.

Per. Still confirmation :
Embrace him, dear Thaisa ; this is he.
Now do I long to hear how you were found ;
How possibly preserved ; and who to thank,
Besides the gods, for this great miracle.

Thai. Lord Cerimon, my lord ; this man,

Pericles ACT v

Through whom the gods have shown their power ;

that can 60

From first to last resolve you.

Per. Reverend sir,

The gods can have no mortal officer
More like a god than you. Will you deliver
How this dead queen re-lives ?

Cer. I will, my lord.

Beseech you, first go with me to my house,
Where shall be shown you all was found with her ;
How she came placed here in the temple ;
No needful thing omitted.

Per. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision ! I
Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa, 7o

This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,
Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,
This ornament

Makes me look dismal will I clip to form ;
And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd,
To grace thy marriage-day, I '11 beautify.

Thai. Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit,

sir,
My father's dead.

Per. Heavens make a star of him ! Yet there,

my queen,

We '11 celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves So

Will in that kingdom spend our following days :
Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
To hear the rest untold : sir, lead 's the way.

\Exeunt.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. In Antiochus and his daughter you have

heard

Of monstrous lust the due and just reward :
106

sc. in Pericles

In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen,
Although assail'd with fortune fierce and keen,
Virtue preserved from fell destruction's blast,
Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last :
In Helicanus may you well descry
A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty :
In reverend Cerimon there well appears
The worth that learned charity aye wears :
For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame
Had spread their cursed deed, and honour'd name
Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,
That him and his they in his palace burn ;
The gods for murder seemed so content
To punish them ; although not done, but meant.
So, on your patience evermore attending,
New joy wait on you ! Here our play has ending.

[Exit.

107

CYMBELINE

iog

Italians.

DRAMATIS PERSONS

CYMBELINE, king of Britain.
CLOTEN, son to the Queen by a former husband.
POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, a gentleman, husband to Imogen.
BELARIUS, a banished lord, disguised under the name of

Morgan.

GUIDERIUS f sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the names
ARVIRAG ' -{ of Polydore and Cadwal, supposed sons to

'' ( Morgan.

PHILARIO, friend to Posthumus, \
IACHIMO, friend to Philario. /
CAIUS Lucius, general of the Roman forces.
PISANIO, servant to Posthumus.
CORNELIUS, a physician.
A Roman Captain.
Two British Captains.
A Frenchman, friend to Philario.
Two Lords of Cymbeline's court.
Two Gentlemen of the same.
Two Gaolers.

Queen, wife to Cymbeline.

IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen.

HELEN, a lady attending on Imogen.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer, a
Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians, Officers, Captains,
Soldiers, Messengers, and other attendants.

Apparitions.
SCENE: Britain; Rome.

Dramatis Personce. This was Posthumus. This is regularly
first added by Rowe. accented Posthumus.

110

INTRODUCTION

CYMBELINE was first printed in the Folio of 1623,
where it occurs as the last of the 'Tragedies,' clos
ing the volume. The acts and scenes are marked,
but there is no* list of the persons. The drama
seems from the first to have fallen into a relative
neglect, from which, in spite of the incomparable
charm of certain portions, it has never decisively
emerged. It was not, like the kindred Tempest
and Winter's Tale, performed at the royal wedding
festivities of 1613. With the exception of a single
court performance in 1633, there is hardly one
recorded allusion to it before the Restoration, and
it survived that event only to become the subject of
an infamous travesty 'by Thomas Huffey, who J^less
scrupulous than lachimo) dared to sully the purity
of Imogen. In our own century it has captivated
readers rather than audiences. Its beautiful extra
vagance commended it to the Romantic school, and
it helped to furnish forth the plot of Coleridge's
Zapolya (1817).

The downward limit of the composition of
Cymbeline is fixed with approximate certainty by
the record of a performance of it nt the Globe in
Dr. Simon Forman's Book of Plates and Notes
thereof for common Policie. The half-dozen manu
script pages thus ambitiously entitled contain, as

Cymbeline

has been previously noticed, epitomes of three
Shakespearean dramas witnessed by him. The per
formance of Cymbeline is not dated, but the others
all fall in 1610-11, and there is little doubt that the
diary was begun, as well as ended, in these few
months, the last of his life. He died in August
1611.

Cymbeline was probably a new play when Forrnan
saw it. All the remaining evidence either confirms,
or is consistent with, this view. Fletcher's beautiful
Philaster betrays the impression made upon him by
this the most Fletcherian of Shakespeare's plays in
numerous detailed touches, and particularly in the
character and fortunes of the maiden* page, Euphrasia ;
but it cannot be shown to be earlier than 1610-11.
Malone characteristically held that Cymbeline must
have been contemporary with Lear and Macbeth on
the ground that all three are founded on Holinshed ;
and Mr. Fleay has applied this argument, with little
mitigation of its nakedness, to prove that the quasi-
historical portion was written in 1606, some three years
before it was turned to account as a framework for the
Romance of Imogen. The answer to this is, that
the story of Cymbeline's wars with Rome might serve
to furnish forth a History or the background of a
romantic comedy, but is entirely devoid of the
elements of tragic conflict. To suppose even this
portion of the play to be contemporary with Macbeth
and J^ear is to save the continuity of Shakespeare's
reading at the cost of the continuity of his art.

Several striking parallels of expression, it is true,
connect Cymbeline with Macbeth; but these happen
to occur not in the political portion, but in the
romance — in the bed-chamber scene, where the sleep
betrayed by lachimo might naturally call up reminis
cences of the equally ' innocent ' sleep ' murder'd '

112

by Macbeth.1 The stride of the ravishing Tarquin
(Macbeth, ii. i. 55 ; Cymbeline, ii. 2. 12) and the un
consciously ironical praise of sleep (Macbeth, ii. 2.38;
Cymbeline, ii. 2. ii) were appropriate enough to each
situation.2 Parallels, moreover, as striking can be
found to a much earlier play. Imogen, like Hamlet,
is ' craven'd ' by the ' prohibition so divine against self-
slaughter '(iii. 4. 78). And the internal evidence connects
Cymbeline very closely with The Winter's Tale and The
Tempest, neither of which can be dated before 1 6 1 o.
Cymbeline is, notwithstanding its title, the story
of Imogen and Posthumus. In its main outlines it
was at least three centuries old. French romancers
and playwrights of the thirteenth century had told a
story substantially the same : a husband boasts of
his wife's constancy, is challenged to lay a wager on
it, is fraudulently convinced that his wager is lost,
and plans a peremptory vengeance upon his wife.
She, however, eludes it, and finally after many
adventures discovers and exposes the betrayer.
This is the subject of the romances of La Violette
by Gilbert de Montreuil (c. 1220) and the Count of
Poitiers. In two points tradition fluctuated : the
nature of the deception, and the after-history of the
husband and wife. Both romances smooth the
challenger's path by giving him the aid of the lady's
waiting-woman. In the one she enables him to look
at her mistress in the bath, and to note —

sur sa destre mamelote
Le semblant d'une violette ;

in the other she furnishes him with the more material
tokens — a ring, a lock of hair, a scrap of samite

1 Cf. also iii. 4. 60 f. with blue of heaven's own tinct '
Ham. i. (Cymb. ii. 2. 22, 23) and Dun-

2 Cf. also the kindred delicacy can's silver skin laced with his
of colouring in the 'lac'd with golden blood (Macb. ii. 3. 118).

VOL. IV 113 I

. .
•. • */->, *• -»i • i* »• • • •• •

Cymbeline ,

j^» *- ^''* - - « »

dress. In both the wife is carried off into the woods,
where she eludes the intended vengeance, but under
goes other adventures. A further step is marked by
the Miracle de Nostre Dame. Here the scene of
the wager is for the first time laid in Rome. The
deception is aided by a sleeping-draught administered
by the maid to her mistress ; while the challenger,
like lachimo, tries to gain his point with the lady by
insinuating scandal about her husband.1

Most of these points, but not quite all, were woven
by Boccaccio into his history of Bernabo of Genoa.
It is the ninth of the tales told on the second day
of the Decameron, when the discourse was of men
who ' from positions of peril found beyond their hope
a happy deliverance.' The scene is here transferred
from feudal to bourgeois society. Bernabo is a
merchant of Genoa; Ambrogiulo, the challenger, a
merchant of Piacenza. Unlike his counterparts in
the romances, Ambrogiulo does not even seek an
interview with the lady, Zinevra, but, having con
vinced himself by inquiries that he could not fairly
win the wager, resorts at once to stratagem. In this
the female ally still plays a part, but a less important
one. At his instigation a poor woman frequently
employed in the house entrusts a chest to Zinevra's
keeping during a few days' absence. Ambrogiulo
thus gains secret access to Zinevra's chamber, where,
while she sleeps, he notes the pictures and furniture,
and a mole with a tuft of golden hairs beneath her
left breast. After three days' waiting the woman
returns, and he is released. Bernabo, convinced by
Ambrogiulo's story of his success, sets out for his
home, but commissions a servant to carry out his
vengeance, by escorting his wife as if to meet him,
and slaying her on the road. Arrived in a 'very

1 Cf. abstracts in Hazlitt, Shaksperes Library, ii. 179.
114

Introduction

deep and lonely valley,' the servant discloses his
instructions. She protests her innocence, begs for
mercy, and finally induces him to agree to a plan by
which he may at once please God, his lord, and
herself, — by reporting her slain and leaving her, dis
guised in some pieces of his dress, to find her way
to some distant region where she will never more be
heard of. In describing her subsequent adventures,
Boccaccio fairly outbids his predecessors. Under
the name of Sicurano, Zinevra enters the service of
a Catalonian gentleman, then becomes a favourite
captain of the Sultan of Alexandria, and in this
capacity discovers in a shop her own purse and
girdle. Ambrogiulo, the owner, on being interrogated,
laughingly tells how he had received them from a
lady of Genoa, and won a wager at her husband's
cost. Zinevra, bent only upon vengeance, contrives
to detain Ambrogiulo at Alexandria, summons
Bernabo, causes Ambrogiulo to repeat his story
before the Sultan, and then, disclosing her identity,
begs for the punishment of the deceiver and the
pardon of the deceived. Whereupon Ambrogiulo
suffers the horrible death which Autolycus graphically
foretells to the Clown in The Winter's Tale, his ample
fortune being transferred to Bernabo and Zinevra.

There is no doubt that Shakespeare used Boc
caccio's version of the wager-story. But it is ex
tremely likely that independent traditions of it were
current in England, as they were, from the early years
of the sixteenth century, in Germany and Scandinavia.
Singular coincidences between Cymbeline and French
and German versions, which Shakespeare cannot
possibly have known, point to this conclusion. It
is not Boccaccio's Ambrogiulo but the Berengier of
the French Miracle who anticipates lachimo in
stipulating for two interviews, and in persuading the

Cymbeline

lady of her husband's infidelity. Perhaps, too, the
English tradition may have agreed with the German
Volksbuch * in making the wager originate in a
company of ' four merchants,' corresponding to
Pisanio's four guests of various nationalities.

Lastly, we have in the Fishwife's Tale in Westward
for Smelts (1620) a version of the wager-story which
presupposes an ignorance both of Boccaccio and of
Shakespeare, and yet agrees in two significant points
with Cymbeline. The entire management of the
wager is extremely rude : the challenger hides under
the bed, and convinces the husband, ' who dearly
loved his wife,' by no more cogent argument than a
crucifix abstracted from her chamber. But the lady's
demeanour under the threat of death is more like
Imogen's than Zinevra's ; instead of pleading for her
life she begs for death ('what should I desire to live
having lost his favour ? '), and instead of proposing
the plan of living in disguise, she merely accepts it
when proposed by the servant. Further, the wager-
story is set in a framework of English history, and
the complicated meetings and partings of husband,
wife, and betrayer are connected with the revolutions
of. civil war in a way of which there is no trace in
Boccaccio. The disguised wife, after starving on
herbs, takes service as a page with King Edward IV.,
and attends him at Barnet, where both her husband
and his challenger are fighting for King Henry. Both
are taken, and confronted in Edward's presence, the
wife forgiving her husband, but not also, like Zinevra,
calling for vengeance upon the traitor, who is dis
missed with the moderate penalty of a fine and a
year's imprisonment. Though not published till ten
years after the production of Cymbeline?- this tale

1 Ein liepliche History und z It was entered in Jan. Sta-
WarlieitvonVierKaiifmennem,^. tioners' Register in 1619-20.

116

Introduction

seems to represent an earlier phase of the legend.
It at least favours the suspicion that the wager-
story had already been brought into some connection
with English history before Shakespeare.

Whether Shakespeare was the first to make the
heroine's father a British king, and to interweave her
fortunes with those of a Roman invading army, must
remain undecided. But there can be no doubt that
the more original, if less hazardous, achievement
of flinging over the romance the enchantment of
Germanic quasi-faery lore, is his alone.

The free manipulation of Roman history in the
play has never quite ceased to scandalise some
portion of the critical world. It is therefore to be
noted that Shakespeare clearly designed Cymbeline
to be as much and as little a picture of Augustan
Britain as Hamlet is a picture of eleventh -century
Denmark. Most of the political history of Cymbe
line is to be found in Holinshed, but on pages often
far apart and relating to remote and unconnected
events. The king himself is in Holinshed a wise and
peaceful prince, who maintains the best terms with
Augustus and is complimented by him on his excellent
government of Britain.1 Shakespeare has made him

1 The historical Cymbeline wife of Brute, the first ruler of
(Cunebolinus) was an actual Britain (a name which Shake-
king of the Britons, having his speare had already chosen for
capital at Camulodunum (Col- the wife of Leonato in Mitch
Chester) (Stone, Holinshed, p. 6). Ado, First Q ed. 1600) ; Lucius,
Most of the names of the other from a Roman captain in Gaul,
persons occur scattered through vanquished by King Arthur of
the pages of Holinshed, and Britain ; MORGAN, from a son
Shakespeare may have gleaned of the Duke of Cornwall and
them thence. Thus CADWAL 'Gonorilla,' eldest daughter of
(the pseudonym of Arviragus) King Leir ; POLIDORE or PALA-
may be from 'Cadwallo,' an DOUR, perhaps from Poly dor
early king of Britain ; CLOTEN, Virgil, an authority frequently
from 'Cloton,' a king of Corn- cited in Holinshed's margin;
wall; IMOGEN, from ' Innogen,' POSTHUMUS, perhaps from a
117

Cymbeline

anticipate his son Guiderius in revolting against Rome,
repel an imaginary Roman invasion by a feat of
heroism exhibited 900 years later in the wars of the
Scots and Danes,1 and then bring himself violently
back into line with events by a sudden and unexplained
submission.

If Cymbeline is deliberately detached from history,
his queen and their children transport us into manifest
faerie. The evil stepmother, with her malign beauty,
culling the poison-flowers ' while yet the dew 's on the
ground ' is a witch manquee, a Medea not quite perfect
in her part ; her clownish son is a Caliban made slightly
more human and considerably more vulgar; Imogen,
with all her added wealth of mind and heart, yet clearly
betrays the lineaments of the peerless princess whom
the malign stepmother pursues and good fairies
defend ; while the whole episode of her life in the
cave with her unknown brothers, her seeming death
and burial, differs from the Mdrchen of Schneewittchen
(' Little Snowwhite ') only as the poetry which moves
wholly within the human sphere and is wrought out
in dramatic detail and imaginative phrase differs from
the nai've poetry of the fairy tale.2 The evil step
mother provides her ' poison ' by the aid of a physician;
the kindly dwarfs become valiant young hunters, and
Schneewittchen's crystal coffin becomes a woodland
bed of flowers and moss lightly sprinkled on the face .
of the seeming dead.

son of ^Eneas and Lavinia, born of a Scottish husbandman. Hay,

after his father's death, and who with his two sons' help

mentioned near the outset of the routed the Danes at Loncourt,

Chronicle (Stone's Holinshed, 976.

pp. 17, 18, where several other 2 The parallel was first traced

less clear correspondences are in detail by Schenkl. It is

cited). followed out with peculiar

1 Stone's Holinshed, pp. 6-18. sympathy by Mr. Gollancz in

The prowess of Belarius and his his finely - felt Introduction to

adopted sons is modelled on that this play.

118

Introduction

It can hardly be denied that these several elements
of story are not quite faultlessly wrought together.
The complex mechanism of the plot is lubricated by
a free use of happy coincidences and fortuities, and
explained by conversations and soliloquies which serve
merely to explain it. It is even possible to maintain
that the motley contrast of the interwoven motives
has here and there infected the characters; — that
Cloten, more particularly, as he appears in the council
of war, is a person of more distinction than the clown
ish wooer of Imogen and butt of the court wits. As
in all the plays of this latest group, mechanical coher
ence of plot is treated with apparent nonchalance,
even character is displayed rather in detached moments
than with that subtle power of exhibiting its gradual
evolution or decay which contributes so much to the
fascination of Hamlet or Othello or Antony and Cleo
patra ; but these moments are illuminated with a
dramatic vision so intense and a poetry so poignantly
beautiful, that the less intrinsic movements of the play
sink into a subordination of effect in which their
incoherences are lost sight of. In the subject matter
with which they deal we cannot sharply divide the
so-called Romances from the Tragedies ; they all
deal with tragic harms ; both Cymbeline and The
Winter's Tale sound several chords of the theme of
Othello. But, in the first place, the tragic action is
briefer and simpler, less desperate in its outlook, less
harrowing in its course ; and, in the second, there
open out of it vistas of a reposeful and healing
seclusion on the one side, of remorse and atonement
on the other, which finally converge in scenes of re
conciliation and forgiveness. In The Tempest, possibly
the last of the Romances, and certainly that in which
the Romance character is most completely embodied,
the tragic story is already a distant memory when the
119

Cymbeline

action opens. In Cymbeline, as in The Winter's Tale,
it occupies the first half of the drama. The cloud
which involves the love of Imogen and Posthumus
starts up without the least warning in the fourth scene
and is unfolded with appalling swiftness. In the sixth
scene lachimo stands before Imogen ; in the tenth he
has turned Posthumus' fearless faith in her into a
frenzy of scorn for all women ; in the middle of the
third act she has read his fatal letter. Then, for
both, the scene changes. Posthumus, when we meet
him again, still believes implicitly in Imogen's guilt,
but the anguish of having slain a ' wife much better
than himself, for wrying but a little,' has entered into
his soul. The Roman invasion, which has brought
him from Italy, provides him with the means of seeking
death in the field. In the ' silly dress ' of a British
peasant he fights with blind fury by the side of
Belarius and his sons, and the Roman victory becomes
a rout ; then, once more a Roman, he yields himself
captive and astonishes his gaoler with the ' prone
eagerness ' in which he awaits execution. He does
not atone by death, but by the absorption of his
whole being in the one consuming passion for atone
ment. Several of Shakespeare's tragic figures —
Othello, Enobarbus — express remorse as poignant as
his ; but only to find an immediate solution of it on
their swords. It is only in the great prison soliloquy
of Posthumus that the quivering nerves of the tor
mented brain are laid bare before our eyes, and the
intellectual processes unfolded which make life seem
an intolerable cruelty of the gods. A happier lot
awaits him, but reunion with Imogen and discovery
of her purity do not relax the keenness of his remorse,
and it is the self-abasement of a fellow- criminal,
rather than the lofty benignity of a judge, which
speaks in his famous words of pardon to lachimo : —

Introduction

The power that I have on you is to spare you ;
The malice towards you to forgive you ; live
And deal with others better.

The war, which thus provides a channel for
Posthumus' remorse, also affects the fortunes of
Imogen. But the more significant part of her after-
story is, evidently, the ' Schneewittchen ' sojourn in
her brothers' cave. The history of Guiderius and
Arviragus has no rigid coherence with the dramatic
plot. But it satisfied the inclination, which all the
latest dramas of Shakespeare betray, to bring his most
ideal characters into a peculiarly sympathetic relation
with the fresh charm of Nature. Not that Shake
speare's Naturalism is at all closely allied to Words
worth's. His ' Nature ' is a far less potent enchantress.
She does not breed noble men except from noble race ;
she does not suffice for their breeding. His Mopsas
and Dorcases live all their lives 'in the continual
presence of Nature ' without losing a particle of their
native vulgarity. And the youth of Miranda and
Perdita, of Guiderius and Arviragus, so graciously
unfolded in seclusion, only prepares them to be right
men and women in the world. In the most idyllic
mood of his Stratford retirement, Shakespeare assuredly
never disparaged the educative contact with great
events. But he thought, it is hardly less evident, that
a noble strain of manhood was most effectively shaped
for that contact by a rough and simple training.
Belarius' cave is a little world peopled by such men,
so trained, without any of the coarser human alloy
which serves as foil to Perdita and Miranda. It is, so
to speak, \.\\Q point de repaire for all the noble elements
of the drama. To this little world Imogen, the soul
of truth, finds her way, a stranger, and is instantly
taken to their hearts. And, when the hunters have
turned into a battalion of destroying ' angels,' it is

Cymbeline

Posthumus, in his agony of remorse, who becomes
their single-handed ally, Thus the half-epic, half-
legend-like story of Belarius, notwithstanding its loose
cohesion with the structure of the plot, plays an
essential part in its perspective and proportion.

The denoumenf, in which these several elements of
story are brought into harmony, is an admitted master
piece of dramatic technique. But one detail in it
has always excited amazement and given an air of
justification to Johnson's ferocious censure of the
play. Posthumus' vision, the oracle, and a sooth
sayer's exposition of it, are, as literature, mean, frigid,
and prosaic. As dramatic business, they affect only
the outermost fringe of the plot, the political relations
of Britain and Rome. It is possible to defend the
bald style of the ghosts as imitated from the archaisms
of the time when Posthumus' parents lived ; but the
grotesque descent of Jupiter is as un-Shakespearean
in conception as it is incompetent in execution.
Richard III. had dreamed to better purpose before
Bosworth. Perhaps, with Mr. Fleay, we may find the
solution in attributing to Shakespeare only the dumb
show, which some foolhardy person rushed in to
versify. The oracle, which Posthumus finds on his
breast, is employed with a singular disregard of
dramatic effect. It serves no purpose but to provide
the British king with a not very logical reason for
offering, ' though the victor,' to submit to Caesar, and
thus completing by a volteface amazing even in this
impulsive and capricious Celtic king, this feebler Lear
— the universal reconciliation. This gratuitous close
has the air of having been inwoven in the fabric of
Shakespeare's work, — perhaps with concealed political
intention. It may be noted as a possible mark of
imperfect piecing, that Cymbeline twice (v. 5. 398, 475)
summons the assembly to do sacrifice to the gods.

122

CYMBELINE

ACT I.

SCENE I. Britain. The garden of Cymbeline's
palace.

Enter two Gentlemen.

First Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns :

our bloods

No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
Still seem as does the king.

Sec. Gent. But what 's the matter ?

First Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's

kingdom, whom

He purposed to his wife's sole son — a widow
That late he married — hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman : she 's wedded ;
Her husband banish'd ; she imprison'd : all
Is outward sorrow ; though I think the king
Be touch'd at very heart.

i. bloods, dispositions.

3. king. Tyrwhitt's correc
tion for Ff king' s. Many con
jectural emendations have been
proposed ; but the sense is clear,
though idiomatically expressed :

— the courtiers' faces reflect the
king's mood as absolutely as our
dispositions the varying influence
of the stars.

6. referr'd herself, committed
her destiny.

123

- * / • ** * - •

. , • , »Si?r. \Gent. None but the king ? 10 .

First ^ent. H%*rfte? Hath Tost Her* too* so* iff -•*-
:. i»,} : the.queetv •*. -•'' .- . „ t . -f -

. That most desired,. th$ raa^ch ; but not a. courtier,
i" !\lTfiougli they wear theif faces to the bent
i .,»• Of tlie king's looks, liath'a heart ^Lat i^ not ,- - • . ,
*v j w Glafi at the thing they scowl at.

Sec. Gent. And why so ?

First Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess

is a thing

Too bad for bad report : and he that hath her —
I mean, that married her, alack, good man !
And therefore banish'd — is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth 20

For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward and such stuff within
Endows a man but he.

Sec. Gent. You speak him far.

First Gent. I do extend him, sir, within him
self,

Crush him together rather than unfold
His measure duly.

Sec. Gent. What 's his name and birth ?

First Gent. I cannot delve him to the root :

his father

Was called Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans with Cassibelan, 30

But had his titles by Tenantius whom
He served with glory and admired success,
So gain'd the sur-addition Leonatus ;
And had, besides this gentleman in question,

22. compare, compare himself 29. join his honour, brought
with him. his renowned soldiership to the

service of Cassibelan.

24. speak him far, give his 31. Tenantius, the father of

merits a large compass. Cymbeline.

124

\J*~\ lArv^s.
... \ >i.

pray you,

49. feated, shaped, fashioned. for proclaims what he was (io

51. price, worth. his mistress}.

52. Proclaims how she esteem 'd 60. no guess in knowledge,
him. By a slight change of none which approves itself as
construction this is substituted true.

125 <J^ c"

A '

Cymbeline

ACT I

Sec. Gent. How long is this ago ?

First Gent. Some twenty years.

Sec. Gent. That a king's children should be so

convey'd,

So slackly guarded, and the search so slow,
That could not trace them !

first Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, sir.

Sec. Gent. I do well believe you.

first Gent. We must forbear : here comes the

gentleman,
The queen, and princess. \Exeunt.

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.

Queen. No, be assured you shall not find me,

daughter, 7o

After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-eyed unto you : you 're my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the offended king,
I will be known your advocate : marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good
You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post. Please your highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril. 80

I '11 fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections, though the king
Hath charged you should not speak together.

[Exit.

Into. O

Dissembling courtesy ! How fine this tyrant
126

SC. I

Cymbeline

Can tickle where she wounds ! My dearest hus
band,

I something fear my father's wrath ; but nothing —
Always reserved my holy duty — what
His rage can do on me : you must be gone ;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes, not comforted to live, 90

But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.

Post. My queen ! my mistress !

O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man. I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth :
My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter : thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I '11 drink the words you send, 100
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter QUEEN.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you :

If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure. [Aside'] Yet I '11

move him

To walk this way : I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends ;
Pays dear for my offences. \_Extt.

Post. Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu !

Imo. Nay, stay a little :

101. Though ink be made of porary receipts for making it.
gall. Ox-gall was actually one 105. buy my injuries, give

of the constituents of Elizabethan me satisfaction for the wrongs I

ink, as is shown by con tern- do him.

Cymbeline

ACT I

Were you but riding forth to air yourself, no

Such parting were too petty. Look here, love ;
This diamond was my mother's : take it, heart ;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

Post. How, how ! another ?

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death ! [Putting on the ring.]

Remain, remain thou here

While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles i20

I still win of you : for my sake wear this ;
It is a manacle of love ; I '11 place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

[Putting a bracelet upon her arm.

Imo. O the gods !

When shall we see again ?

Enter CYMBELINE and Lords.

Post. Alack, the king !

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid ! hence, from

my sight !

If after this command thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest : away !
Thou 'rt poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you !

And bless the good remainders of the court !
I am gone. [Exit.

116. sear up, wither, shrivel shroud) suggested the latter

away. Grant White proposed phrase.

cere. Singer seal, for sear ; but 124. see, see each other,

the bonds of death ' bind ' by 125. avoid, begone !

wasting away. Probably, how- 126. fraught, burden,

ever, the associations of 'cere' 129. the good remainders , the

and cere-cloth (the waxed linen ' good ' whom I leave behind me.

128

sc. i Cymbeline

Into. There cannot be a pinch in death 130

More sharp than this is.

Cym. O disloyal thing,

That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
A year's age on me.

Imo. I beseech you, sir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation :
I am senseless of your wrath ; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Past grace ? obedience ?

Imo. Past hope, and in despair ; that way, past
grace.

Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of
my queen !

Imo. O blest, that I might not ! I chose an eagle,
And did avoid a puttock. 140

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have

made my throne
A seat for baseness.

Imo. No ; I rather added

A lustre to it.

Cym. O thou vile one !

Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus :
You bred him as my playfellow, and he is
A man worth any woman, overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym. What, art thou mad ?

Imo. Almost, sir : heaven restore me ! Would

I were

A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son !

Cym. Thou foolish thing ! 150

135. senseless of, insensible 137. that way, past grace:

to. ' past grace ' as being past

135. a touch more rare, a more blessedness,

poignant feeling. 140. puttock, kite.

VOL. IV 129 K

CX^AA/"- . >' YN

^ *"*• ^ '^-^M vw#U u-«-v. y-v

•-w~K'CVwv>v><M. Ar^

Cymbeline
*~ V u <» "5i - V - ^-^ ^-1- •

Re-enter QUEEN.

They were again together : you have done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

Queen. Beseech your patience. Peace,

Dear lady daughter, peace ! Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves ; and make yourself some

comfort
Out of your best advice.

Cym. Nay, let her languish

A drop of blood a day ; and, being aged,
Die of this folly ! \Rxeunt Cymbeline and Lords.

Queen. Fie ! you must give way.

Enter PISANIO.

Here is your servant. How now, sir ! What
news?

Pis. My lord your son drew on my master.

Queen. Ha ! 160

No harm, I trust, is done ?

Pis. There might have been,

But that my master rather play'd than fought
And had no help of anger : they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on 't.

• Into. Your son's my father's friend; he takes

his part.

To draw upon an exile ! O brave sir !
I would they were in Afric both together ;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer-back. Why came you from your master ?

Pis. On his command : he would not suffer

me i7o

To bring him to the haven ; left these notes

168. needle (probably pronounced neeld).
130

what commands I should be subject to,
When 't pleased you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

Your faithful servant : I dare lay mine honour
He will remain so.

Pis. I humbly thank your highness.

Queen. Pray, walk awhile.

Into. About some half-hour hence,

I pray you, speak with me : you shall at least
Go see my lord aboard : for this time leave me.

\Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. A public place. ®

Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.

First Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a
shirt ; the violence of action hath made you reek
as a sacrifice : where air comes out, air comes in :
there's none abroad so wholesome as that you
vent.

Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it.
Have I hurt him ?

Sec. Lord. [Aside\ No, 'faith ; not so much as
his patience.

First Lord. Hurt him ! his body 's a passable 10
carcass, if he be not hurt : it is a throughfare for
steel, if it be not hurt.

Sec. Lord. \Aside~\ His steel was in debt ; it
went o' the backside the town.

Clo. The villain would not stand me.

Sec. Lord. {Aside~\ No ; but he fled forward
still, toward your face.

176. walk, walk aside, with- 13. it went o the backside the

draw. town, i.e. slunk, like a debtor

10. passable, allowing free avoiding his creditors, round the

passage. outskirts of Cloten's person.

. * .» • , . - * "

^» , • „>*•*••* r .- . % • * ** *

* .,., . ^ > .> ' , v - * -Vi,*

- Cymbeline » % *•, ACT i •

• t • v, t f. • "' i • '• • * > • J • . '

First Lord. Stand you ! You have land enough
of your own : but he added to your having ; gave
you some ground. 20

Sec. Lord. [Aside] As many inches as you have
oceans. Puppies !

Clo. I would they had not come between us.

Sec. Lord. [Aside] So would I, till you had
measured how long a fool you were upon the
ground.

Clo. And that she should love this fellow and
refuse me !

Sec. Lord. [Aside] If it be a sin to make a
true election, she is damned. 30

First Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her
beauty and her brain go not together : she 's a good
sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.

Sec. Lord. [Aside] She shines not upon fools,
lest the reflection should hurt her.

Clo. Come, I '11 to my chamber. Would there
had been some hurt done !

Sec. Lord. [Aside] I wish not so ; unless it had
been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt.

Clo. You '11 go with us ? 40

First Lord. I '11 attend your lordship.

Clo. Nay, come, let 's go together.

Sec. Lord. Well, my lord. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. A room in Cymbeline's palace.

Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO.

Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o'

the haven,

And question'dst every sail : if he should write,
And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,

33. sign, outward semblance ; show.
I32

Cymbeline

J «VXV -v-^r -,

As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
That he spake to thee ?

7-1 • T 1 • • IC*"-4 **"* *~V

/7.r. It was his queen, his queen !

Imo. Then waved his handkerchief?

Pis. And kiss'd it, madam.

Imo. Senseless linen ! happier therein than I !
And that was all ?

Pis. No, madam ; for so long

As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep 10

The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of 's mind
Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
How swift his ship.

Imo. Thou shouldst have made him

As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To after-eye him.

Pis. Madam, so I did.

Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings;

crack'd them, but

To look upon him, till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle,
Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from 2o

The smallness of a gnat to air, and then
Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good

Pisanio,
When shall we hear from him ?

Pis. Be assured, madam,

With his next vantage.

Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say : ere I could tell him
How I would think on him at certain hours

4. offer'd mercy ; probably, 9. this, Ff his.
mercy offered when it is too late. size>

— the ' remorseful pardon slowly

carried' of All's Well, v. 3. 58. 24. -vantage, opportunity.

133

Cymbeline

ACT I

Such thoughts and such, or I could make him

swear

The shes of Italy should not betray
Mine interest and his honour, or have charged

him, 30

At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
To encounter me with orisons, for then
I am in heaven for him ; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father
And like the tyrannous breathing of the north
Shakes all our buds from growing.

Enter a Lady.

Lady. The queen, madam,

Desires your highness' company.

Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them

dispatch'd.
I will attend the queen.

Pis. Madam, I shall. \Exeunt. 4o

SCENE IV. Rome. Philario's house.

Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a
Dutchman, and a Spaniard.

lack. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain :
he was then of a crescent note, expected to prove
so worthy as since he hath been allowed the name
of; but I could then have looked on him without
the help of admiration, though the catalogue of
his endowments had been tabled by his side and
I to peruse him by items.

32. encounter, join. security from evil influences.

35. charming words, words 2. crescent note, growing

which should give him a charmed reputation.

134

SC. IV

Cymbeline

Phi. You speak of him when he was less fur
nished than now he is with that which makes him
both without and within. 10

French. I have seen him in France : we had
very many there could behold the sun with as
firm eyes as he.

lach. This matter of marrying his king's
daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by
her value than his own, words him, I doubt not,
a great deal from the matter.

French. And then his banishment.

lach. Ay, and the approbation of those that
weep this lamentable divorce under her colours 20
are wonderfully to extend him ; be it but to for
tify her judgement, which else an easy battery
might lay flat, for taking a beggar without less
quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with
you? How creeps acquaintance?

Phi. His father and I were soldiers together ;
to whom I have been often bound for no less than
my life. Here comes the Briton : let him be so
entertained amongst you as suits, with gentlemen
of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality. 30

Enter POSTHUMUS.

I beseech you all, be better known to this gen
tleman, whom I commend to you as a noble
friend of mine : how worthy he is I will leave to

16. words him . . . from the 23. less (put idiomatically in

matter, extends his fame beyond a negative sentence for more}.
his merits (cf. the converse image 25. How creeps acquaintance ?

of i. i. 25). How have you stolen into ac-

20. under her colours, under quaintance? Creeps hints at the
her authority and prestige ; her stealthy process implied in the
attendant ladies and courtiers. unexpected result.

21. are, is (by attraction to 30. knowing, breeding and
the plural, colours}. accomplishment.

135

,v~v* w -

Cymbeline

^MH

appear hereafter, rather than story him in his

own hearing.

French. Sir, we have known together in Or
leans.

Post. Since when I have been debtor to you
for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay and yet
pay still. 4o

French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness : I
was glad I did atone my countryman and you ; it
had been pity you should have been put together
with so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon
importance of so slight and trivial a nature.

Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a young
traveller ; rather shunned to go even with what
I heard than in my every action to be guided by
others' experiences : but upon my mended judge
ment — if I offend not to say it is mended — my 50
quarrel was not altogether slight.

French. 'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitre-
ment of swords, and by such two that would by
all likelihood have confounded one the other, or
have fallen both.

lack. Can we, with manners, ask what was the
difference ?

French. Safely, I think : 'twas a contention in
public, which may, without contradiction, suffer
the report. It was much like an argument that 60
fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise
of our country mistresses ; this gentleman at that
time vouching — and upon warrant of bloody affirm-

42. atone, reconcile. 54. confounded, destroyed.

45. importance, cause. 57. difference, ground of

47. to go even •with what I quarrel.

heard, i.e. 'to beguidedby others' ^ Qur £0 mistresses,

experiences. Posthumus says the ladies of Qur ^^
that, far from making this course

his invariable rule, he regularly . 6?- bloody affirmation, attest-

avoided it. ln& ll wlth hls blood-
136

sc. iv Cymbeline

ation — his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste,
constant-qualified and less attemptable than any
the rarest of our ladies in France.

lack. That lady is not now living, or this
gentleman's opinion by this worn out.

Post. She holds her virtue still and I my mind.

lack. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours 70
of Italy.

Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France,
I would abate her nothing, though I profess my
self her adorer, not her friend.

lack. As fair and as good — a kind of hand-in-
hand comparison — had been something too fair
and too good for any lady in Britain. If she
went before others I have seen, as that diamond
of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could
not but believe she excelled many : but I have 80
not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor
you the lady.

Post. I praised her as I rated her : so do I
my stone.

lack. What do you esteem it at ?

Post. More than the world enjoys.

lack. Either your tmparagoned mistress is dead,
or she 's outprized by a trifle.

Post. You are mistaken : the one may be
sold, or given, if there were wealth enough for 9o
the purchase, or merit for the gift : the other
is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the
gods.

65. constant -qualified, com- 74. her adorer, not her friend,

posed of constancy, ^{constant, her idolatrous worshipper, not

qualified, which may possibly be her lover.

right, taking qualified to mean 75. hand-in-hand, balanced ;

' of tempered, restrained, pas- assigningequalmerittoeachside.

sions." The hyphen was first 79. could not but; Malone's

proposed by Capell. correction for Ff could not.

137

Cymbeline

ACT I

loch. Which the gods have given you ?

Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep.

lack. You may wear her in title yours : but,
you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring
ponds. Your ring may be stolen too : so your
brace of unprizable estimations ; the one is but
frail and the other casual ; a cunning thief, or a 100
that way accomplished courtier, would hazard the
winning both of first and last.

Post. Your Italy contains none so accom
plished a courtier to convince the honour of my
mistress, if, in the holding or loss of that, you
term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have
store of thieves ; notwithstanding, I fear not my
ring.

Phi. Let us leave here, gentlemen.

Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy no
signior, I thank him, makes no stranger of me ;
we are familiar at first.

lack. With five times so much conversation,
I should get ground of your fair mistress, make
her go back, even to the yielding, had I admit
tance and opportunity to friend.

Post. No, no.

lack. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of
my estate to your ring ; which, in my opinion,
o'ervalues it something : but I make my wager 120
rather against your confidence than her reputa
tion : and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst
attempt it against any lady in the world.

Post. You are a great deal abused in too bold
a persuasion ; and I doubt not you sustain what
you 're worthy of by your attempt.

99. unprizable, invaluable. 122. herein too, so F3 and 4 ;

104. convince, conquer. F1P 2 have herein to.

116. to friend, in my favour. 124. abused, deceived.

138

sc. iv Cymbeline

loch. What 's that ?

Post. A repulse : though your attempt, as you
call it, deserve more ; a punishment too.

Phi. Gentlemen, enough of this : it came in 130
too suddenly; let.it die as it was born, and, I
pray you, be better acquainted.

lack. Would I had put my estate and my
neighbour's on the approbation of what I have
spoke !

Post. What lady would you choose to assail ?

lack. Yours ; whom in constancy you think
stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats
to your ring, that, commend me to the court
where your lady is, with no more advantage than 140
the opportunity of a second conference, and I
will bring from thence that honour of hers which
you imagine so reserved.

Post. I will wage against your gold, gold to it :
my ring I hold dear as my finger ; 'tis part of it.

lack. You are afraid, and therein the wiser.
If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you
cannot preserve it from tainting : but I see you
have some religion in you, that you fear.

Post. This is but a custom in your tongue ; 150
you bear a graver purpose, I hope.

lack. I am the master of my speeches, and
would undergo what 's spoken, I swear.

Post. Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond
till your return : let there be covenants drawn
between 's : my mistress exceeds in goodness the
hugeness of your unworthy thinking : I dare you
to this match : here 's my ring.

134. approbation, proof. scruple.

146. afraid; Theobald's 152. am the master of , control

emendation of Ff a Friend. and am responsible for.

149. religion, conscientious 153. undergo, carry out.

Cymbeline

ACT I

Phi. I will have it no lay.

lack. By the gods, it is one. If I bring you 160
no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the
dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thou
sand ducats are yours ; so is your diamond too :
if I come off, and leave her in such honour as you
have trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and
my gold are yours : provided I have your com
mendation for my more free entertainment.

Post. I embrace these conditions ; let us have
articles betwixt us. Only, thus far you shall
answer : if you make your voyage upon her and 170
give me directly to understand you have pre
vailed, I am no further your enemy; she is not
worth our debate : if she remain unseduced, you
not making it appear otherwise, for your ill
opinion and the assault you have made to her
chastity you shall answer me with your sword.

loch. Your hand ; a covenant : we will have
these things set down by lawful counsel, and
straight away for Britain, lest the bargain should
catch cold and starve : I will fetch my gold and 180
have our two wagers recorded.

Post. Agreed.

[Exeunt Posthumus and lachiino.

French. Will this hold, think you ?

Phi. Signior lachimo will not from it. Pray,
let us follow 'em. \Exeunt.

166. commendation, letter of 170. voyage, adventurous
introduction to procure me a attack,
more cordial reception.

140

sc. v Cymbeline

SCENE V. Britain. A room in Cymbeline 's
palace

Enter QUEEN, Ladies, and CORNELIUS.

Queen. Whiles yet the dew 's on ground, gather

those flowers ;
Make haste : who has the note of them ?

First Lady. I, madam.

Queen. Dispatch. [Exeunt Ladies.

Now, master doctor, have you brought those
drugs ?

Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay : here they
are, madam : \Presenting a small box.

But I beseech your grace, without offence, —
My conscience bids me ask — wherefore you have
Commanded of me these most poisonous com
pounds,

Which are the movers of a languishing death ;
But though slow, deadly ?

Queen. I wonder, doctor, 10

Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
To make perfumes ? distil ? preserve ? yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections ? Having thus far proceeded, —
Unless thou think'st me devilish — is 't not meet
That I did amplify my judgement in
Other conclusions ? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging, but none human, 20
To try the vigour of them and apply

2. the note, the recipe of the required,
poison, enumerating the flowers 18. conclusions, experiments.

141

Cymbeline

ACT I

Allayments to their act, and by them gather
Their several virtues and effects.

Cor. Your highness

Shall from this practice but make hard your

heart :

Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.

Queen. O, content thee.

Enter PISANIO.

[Aside] Here comes a flattering rascal ; upon him
Will I first work : he 's for his master,
And enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio !
Doctor, your service for this time is ended ;
Take your own way.

Cor. [Aside] I do suspect you, madam ;

But you shall do no harm.

Queen. [To Pisanio] Hark thee, a word.

Cor. [Aside] I do not like her. She doth

think she has

Strange lingering poisons : I do know her spirit,
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has
Will stupify and dull the sense awhile ;
Which first, perchance, she '11 prove on cats and

dogs,

Then afterward up higher : but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking-up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a most false effect ; and I the truer,
So to be false with her.

Queen. No further service, doctor,

Until I send for thee.

Cor. I humbly take my leave. \Exit.

22. act, action.
142

Cymbeline

Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost

thou think in time

She will not quench and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses ? Do thou work :
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my

son,

I '11 tell thee on the instant thou art then 50

As great as is thy master, greater, for
His fortunes all lie speechless and his name
Is at last gasp : return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is : to shift his being
Is to exchange one misery with another,
And every day that comes comes to decay
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans,
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends,
So much as but to prop him ? \The Queen drops the

box : Pisanio takes it up^\ Thou takest up 60
Thou know'st not what ; but take it for thy labour :
It is a thing I made, which hath the king
Five times redeem'd from death : I do not know
What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee, take it ;
It is an earnest of a further good
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her ; do 't as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on, but think
Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee : I '11 move the king 7o
To any shape of thy preferment such
As thou 'It desire ; and trjen myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women :
Think on my words. \Exit Pisanio.

56. decay, destroy. changest on, with what good

fortune in prospect you change
68. what a chance thou service.

• . J >-J^,jM ^ Tf fU-m WvA

~~.,«-,~ £V ^ w-"A **~*^ u^ *-\*-

Cymbelme ACT i

A sly and constant knave,
Not to be shaked ; the agent for his master
And the remembrancer of her to hold
The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers for her sweet, and which she after, So

Except she bend her humour, shall be assured
To taste of too.

Re-enter PISANIO and Ladies.

So, so : well done, well done :
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio ;
Think on my words. {Exeunt Queen and Ladies.

Pis. And shall do :

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I '11 choke myself : there 's all I '11 do for you. \Exit.

SCENE VI. Tiie same. Another room in the
palace.

Enter IMOGEN.

Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false ;
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,
That hath her husband banish'd ; — O, that hus
band !

My supreme crown of grief,! and those repeated
Vexations of it ! Had I been thief-stol'n,
As my two brothers, happy ! but most miserable
Is the desire that 's glorious : blest be those,

78. hand-fast, marriage en- bassadors,' agents, advocates,
gagement.

80., liegers, ' resident am- 7. glorious, bent on glory.

144

,
^^.t.r

Cymbeline

-.^U-\ $A,<*-

How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be ? Fie ! ^T

\ v-iAs

Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.

\~\\t. U^A,

Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome, I0

Comes from my lord with letters.

T Z.

•foe*. Change you, madam ? '

The worthy Leonatus is in safety
And greets your highness dearly.

{Presents a letter.

Imo- Thanks, good sir :

You 're kindly welcome.

lack. [Aside] All of her that is out of door /^-$" '

most rich !

If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,
She is alone the Arabian bird, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend !
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot !
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight ; 20

Rather, directly fly.

Imo. {Reads'} ' He is one of the noblest note,
to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied.
Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your
trust — LEONATUS.'

So far I read aloud :
But even the very middle of my heart
Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
Have words to bid you, and shall find it so 30

In all that I can do.

loch. Thanks, fairest lady.

9. Which, i.e. to have their Phoenix.
Wllls- 25. trust—; she breaks off

9. seasons comfort, give zest abruptly without reading 'the

to happiness. rest ' aloud. The dash indicat-

ii. Change, change colour. ing this was substituted for the

17. the Arabian bird, the period of the Ff by Boswell.

VOL. IV 145 L

Cymbeline ACT i

What, are men mad ? Hath nature given them

eyes

To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'tvvixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones
Upon the number'd beach ? and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul ?

Imo. What makes your admiration ?

lack. It cannot be i' the eye, for apes and

monkeys

'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and 40
Contemn with mows the other ; nor i' the judge
ment,

For idiots in this case of favour would
Be wisely definite ; nor i' the appetite ;
Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allured to feed.

Imo. What is the matter, trow?

lack. The cloyed will,

That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb
Longs after for the garbage.

Imo. What, dear sir, 50

Thus raps you ? Are you well ?

33. crop, teeming expanse. 40. shes, women.

35. twinn'd, indistinguishably ib. chatter this way, show
similar. their preference for one by

36. number ' d, made up of a chattering in her direction,
host of small parts (pebbles). 42. case of favour, question
Cf. 'the pebbled shore,' Sonn. of relative beauty.

Ix. Theobald conjectured un- 44, 45. Sluttishness, when

number'd. confronted with such absolute

37. Partition make, distin- excellence, would excite qualms
guish. of loathing in Lust itself.

37. spectacles, organs of vision. 47. trow, I wonder.

38. admiration, wonder. 51. raps you, transports you.

146

- ,«» * •••*!•... •'•

sc. vi Cymbeline . . . »-l .

lack. Thanks, madam ; well. [To Pisanid\

Beseech you, sir, desire
My man's abode where I did leave him : he
Is strange and peevish.

Pis, I was going, sir,

To give him welcome. \Exit.

Into. Continues well my lord ? His health,
beseech you ?

lack. Well, madam.

Imo. Is he disposed to mirth ? I hope he is.

Jack. Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger there
So merry and so gamesome : he is call'd 60

The Briton reveller.

Imo. When he was here,

He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.

lack. I never saw him sad.

There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home ; he furnaces
The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton —
Your lord, I mean — laughs from 's free lungs, cries 'O,
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows
By history, report, or his own proof, 7o'

What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be, will his free hours languish for
Assured bondage ? '

Imo. Will my lord say so ?

lack. Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with

laughter :

It is a recreation to be by

And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, heavens
know,

52. desire my man's abode, (like fire).
bid my servant stay.

66. furnaces, belches forth 70. proof, experience.

147

Cymbeline ACT i

Some men are much to blame.

Imo. Not he, I hope.

lack. Not he : but yet heaven's bounty towards

him might

Be used more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much ;
In you, which I account his beyond all talents, So
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.

lino. What do you pity, sir ?

lack. Two creatures heartily.

Imo. Am I one, sir?

You look on me : what wreck discern you in me
Deserves your pity ?

lack. Lamentable ! What,

To hide me from the radiant sun and solace
I' the dungeon by a snuff?

Imo. I pray you, sir,

Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?

lack. That others do, 90

I was about to say, enjoy your But

It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on 't.

^N Imo-. You do seem to know

Something of me, or what concerns me : pray you, —
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do ; for certainties
Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born — discover to me
What both you spur and stop.

79 f. ' That he is not grateful 97. or, timely knowing, etc. ,

for his own gifts, is much ; that or else, being known in time,

he is not grateful for you, his are remedied as soon as known.

gift beyond price, fills me with 99. What both you spur and

wonder and pity. ' stop, the mystery which you

87. a smiff, candle-wick. seem eager to bring forward, yet

95. doubting, fearing (that). still keep back.

148

sc. vi Cymbeline

lack. Had I this cheek

To bathe my lips upon ; this hand, whose touch, J0o
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty ; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here ; should I, damn'd then,
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol ; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood — falsehood, as
With labour ; then by-peeping in an eye
Base and unlustrous as the smoky light
That 's fed with stinking tallow ; it were fit no

That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.

Imo. My lord, I fear,

Has forgot Britain.

lack. And himself. Not I,

Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce
The beggary of his change ; but 'tis your graces
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
Charms this report out.

Imo. Let me hear no more.

lack. O dearest soul ! your cause doth strike

my heart

With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady
So fair, and fasten'd to an empery, 120

Would make the great'st king double, — to be

partner'd
With tomboys hired with that self exhibition

107. 108. Made hard iviih 120. empery, royal dominion. ,
hourly falsehood — falsehood, as I22 tomboys, wild, wanton
with labour, made hard by con- WQmen B tfae Elizabethans
tinual clasping, as if by labour. tfa were iaU associated

108. by -peeping, glancing wkh Rome
aside.

109. unlustrous ; so Rowe for 122. that self exhibition, the
Ff illustrious. very allowance.

149

Cymbeline ACT

Which your own coffers yield ! with diseased

ventures

That play with all infirmities for gold
Which rottenness can lend nature ! such boil'd

stuff

As well might poison poison ! Be revenged;
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imo. Revenged !

How should I be revenged ? If this be true, —
As I have such a heart that both mine ears 130

Must not in haste abuse — if it be true,
How should I be revenged?

lack. Should he make me

Live, like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.

Imo. What, ho, Pisanio !

lack. Let me my service tender on your lips. 140

Imo. Away ! I do condemn mine ears that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st, — as base as strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report as thou from honour, and
Solicit'st here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio !
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault : if he shall think it fit, 150

A saucy stranger in his court to mart

123. ventures, creatures who ^S1* abuse, deceive.
hazard their persons for gold. 134. ramps, leaps.

150

sc. vi Cymbeline

As in a Romish stew and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for and a daughter who
He not respects at all. What, ho, Pisanio !

lack. O happy Leonatus ! I may say :
The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her assured credit. Blessed live you long !
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever 160

Country call'd his ! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest fit ! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this, to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted ; and shall make your lord,
That which he is, new o'er : and he is one
The truest manner'd ; such a holy witch
That he enchants societies into him ;
Half all men's hearts are his.

Imo. You make amends.

lack. He sits 'mongst men like a descended

god:

He hath a kind of honour sets him off, 170

More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventured
To try your taking of a false report ; which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great judgement
In the election of a sir so rare,
Which you know cannot err : the love I bear him
Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you,
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.

Imo. All 's well, sir : take my power i' the court
for yours.

lack. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot 180
To entreat your grace but in a small request,

157. The credit, the faith 163. affiance, fidelity.
Imogen has in her husband's
integrity. 177. fan, winnow.

Cymbeline

ACT I

And yet of moment too, for it concerns
Your lord ; myself and other noble friends
Are partners in the business.

Imo. Pray, what is 't ?

lack. Some dozen Romans of us and your

lord—

The best feather of our wing — have mingled sums
To buy a present for the emperor ;
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
In France : 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form; their values great; 190
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in safe stowage : may it please you
To take them in protection ?

Imo. Willingly ;

And pawn mine honour for their safety : since
My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
In my bedchamber.

lack. They are in a trunk,

Attended by my men : I will make bold
To send them to you, only for this night ;
I must aboard to-morrow.

lino. O, no, no.

lack. Yes, I beseech ; or I shall short my word aoo
By lengthening my return. From Gallia
I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your grace.

Imo. I thank you for your pains :

But not away to-morrow !

lack. O, I must, madam :

Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do 't to-night :
I have outstood my time ; which is material
To the tender of our present

200. short, impair, infringe.
207. is material to, affects, i.e. causes delay in.

I52

I J

I will write.

Send your trunk to me ; it shall safe be kept,
And truly yielded you. You ;re very welcome.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Britain. Before Cymbeline' s palace.

Enter CLOTEN and two Lords. '*/

Clo. Was there ever man had such luck !
when I kissed the jack, upon an up-cast to be
hit away ! I had a hundred pound on 't : and
then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up
for swearing ; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him
and might not spend them at my pleasure.

First Lord. What got he by that? You have
broke his pate with your bowl.

Sec. Lord. \Aside\ If his wit had been like
him that broke it, it would have run all out. 10

Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear,
it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths,
ha?

Sec. Lord. No, my lord; [Aside] nor crop the
ears of them.

Clo. Whoreson dog ! I give him satisfaction ?
Would he had been one of my rank !

Sec. Lord. [Aside~\ To have smelt like a fool.

Clo. I am not vexed more at any thing in the
earth : a pox on 't ! I had rather not be so noble 20
as I am ; they dare not fight with me, because of

2. kissed the jack (in the taken).

game of bowls), hit the jack (i.e. 2. up-cast, throw (of his rival's

the small ball at which aim is bowl).

153

» *'y •* ' * * ••..,-• • l» ,

•••-•' /-I 1 • " ' ' " " '

Cymbehne ACT n. % m

. »» V * •*• * -v

the queen my mother : every Jack-slave hath his
bellyful of fighting, and I must go up and down
like a cock that nobody can match.

Sec. Lord. [Aside] You are cock and capon
too ; and you crow, cock, with your comb on.

Clo. Sayest thou ?

Sec. Lord. It is not fit your lordship should
undertake every companion that you give offence
to. 30

Clo. No, I know that : but it is fit I should
commit offence to my inferiors.

Sec. 'Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.

Clo. Why, so I say.

First Lord. Did you hear of a stranger that 's
come to court to-night ?

Clo. A stranger, and I not know on 't !

Sec. Lord. [Aside] He 's a strange fellow him
self, and knows it not.

First Lord. There 's an Italian come ; and, 'tis 4o
thought, one of Leonatus' friends.

Clo. Leonatus ! a banished rascal ; and he 's
another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this
stranger ?

First Lord. One of your lordship's pages.

Clo. Is it fit I went to Jook upon him ? is there
no derogation in 't ? clj^^-o-'^T

Sec.^Tord. You cannot derogate, my lord.

Clo. Not easily, I think.

Sec. Lord. [Aside"] You are a fool granted ; so
therefore your issues, being foolish, do not dero
gate.

Clo. Come, I '11 go see this Italian : what I

25. capon (castrated cock), a tion (in arms) to.
term of contemptuous reproach ; 29. companion, common

here also with a quibble on cap fellow.
(i.e. cockcomb) on. 51. issues, (i) actions, (2)

29. undertake, give satisfac- descendants.

sc. ii Cymbeline

have lost to-day at bowls I '11 win to-night of him.
Come, go.

Sec. Lord. I '11 attend your lordship.

[Exeunt Cloten and First Lord.
That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass ! a woman that
Bears all down with her brain ; and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart, 60

And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endurest,
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd,
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he 'Id make ! The heavens hold

firm

The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshaked
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand,
To enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land ! 70

[Exit.

SCENE II. Imogens bedchamber in Cymbeline 's

palace : a trunk in one corner of it. ( \ }

IMOGEN in bed, reading ; a Lady attending.

Imo. Who 's there ? my woman Helen ?

Lady. Please you, madam.

Imo. What hour is it ?

Lady. Almost midnight, madam.

Imo. I have read three hours then : mine eyes

are weak :

Fold down the leaf where I have left : to bed :
Take not away the taper, leave it burning ;
And if thou canst awake by four o' the clock,

155

* t

Cymbeline ACT n

I prithee, call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly.

[Exit Lady.

To your protection I commend me, gods.
From fairies and the tempters of the night
Guard me, beseech ye. 10

\Sleeps. lachimo comes from the trunk,
lack. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd

sense

Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch !
But kiss ; one kiss ! Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do 't ! 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus : the flame o' the

taper

Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids, 20
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design,
To note the chamber : I will write all down :
Such and such pictures ; there the window ; such
The adornment of her bed ; the arras ; figures,
Why, such and such ; and the contents o' the

story.

Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory. 30

O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her !
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off:

[Taking off her bracelet.

1 8. How dearly they do 't, 27. the story, viz. that re-

how exquisitely they (her lips) presented in the arras (cf. ii.
kiss. 4. 70).

156

firk o-F"4i \-t±_.

sc. ii Cymbeline

As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard !

'Tis mine ; and this will witness outwardly,

As strongly as the conscience does within,

To the madding of her lord. On her left breast

A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops

I' the bottom of a cowslip : here 's a voucher,

Stronger than ever law could make : this secret 40

Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and

ta'en
The treasure of her honour. No more. To what

end ?

Why should I write this down, that 's riveted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading

late

The tale of Tereus ; here the leaf's turn'd down
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough :
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that

dawning

May bare the raven's eye ! I lodge in fear ;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. 50

\Clock strikes.

One, two, three : time, time ! . *

\Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.

36. conscienee, PosthumuVin- Ovid's Metamorphoses, book vi.

ward conviction. 424 f.

48. you dragons of the night ;

45. The tale of Tereus. dragons were mythically at-

Tereus concealed his wife Procne tached, in virtue of their sup-

and wooed her fairer sister, posed watchfulness, to the Car

Philomela, who after a long of Night, the serpent tribe

resistance 'gave up.' It is sleeping with open eyes.
characteristic that Imogen 49. dare the raven's eye, the

should stop at this point. raven being reputed to wake

Shakespeare probably supposed with earliest dawn. Ff beare.
her to be reading the story in 50. this, this is.

157

Cymbeline ACT

SCENE III. An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's
apartments.

Enter CLOTEN and Lords.

First Lord. Your lordship is the most patient
man in loss, the most coldest that ever turned up
ace.

Clo. It would make any man cold to lose.

First Lord. But not every man patient after
the noble temper of your lordship. You are most
hot and furious when you win.

Clo. Winning will put any man into courage.
If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have
gold enough. It 's almost morning, is 't not ?

First Lord. Day, my lord.

Clo. I would this music would come : I am
advised to give her music o' mornings; they say
it will penetrate.

Enter Musicians.

Clime on ; tune : if you can penetrate her with
»> ,your fingering, so; we'll try wit|j tongue too: if
none will do, let her remain ; But I'll never give
o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing ;
after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich
words to it : and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phrebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies ;

23. those springs, the dew.
158

sc. in Cymbeline

And winking Mary-buds begin

To ope their golden eyes :
With every thing that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise :

Arise, arise. 30

Clo. So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I
will consider your music the better : if it do not,
it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs and
calves'-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to
boot, can never amend. [Exeunt Musicians.

Sec. Lord. Here comes the king.
Clo. I am glad I was up so late ; for that 's the
reason I was up so early : he cannot choose but
take this service I have done fatherly.

Enter Cymbeline and Queen.

Good morrow to your majesty and to my gracious 40
mother.

Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern

daughter ?
Will she not forth ?

Clo. I have assailed her with musics, but she
vouchsafes no notice.

Cym. The exile of her minion is too new ;
She hath not yet forgot him : some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
And then she 's yours.

Queen. You are most bound to the king,

Who lets go by no vantages that may 50

25. Mary-buds, marigolds. 34. unpaved, castrated.

27. is. Hanmer unjustifiably 44. musics (so all Ff), a

substituted bin for the rhyme. Clotenism for ' pieces of music.'

32. consider, reward. He has ' assailed her ' as yet with

33. vice. Rowe's emendation only one; but the plural gives
of Ff voyce. a heightened impression of Imo-

33. horse-hairs and calves'- gen's obduracy.
guts, fiddle-bow and fiddle- 46. •minion, darling,

strings. 50. vantages, opportunities.

159

Cymbeline ACT n

Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly solicits, and be friended
With aptness of the season ; make denials
Increase your services ; so seem as if
You were inspired to do those duties which
You tender to her ; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.

Clo. Senseless ! not so.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome ;
The one is Caius Lucius.

Cym. A worthy fellow, 60

Albeit he comes on angry purpose now ;
But that 's no fault of his : we must receive him
According to the honour of his sender ;
And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,
We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
When you have given good morning to your

mistress,

Attend the queen and us ; we shall have need
To employ you towards this Roman. Come, our

queen. [Exeunt all but Cloten.

Clo. If she be up, I '11 speak with her ; if not,

Let her lie still and dream. \_Knocks\ By your

leave, ho ! 70

I know her women are about her : what
If I do line one of their hands ? 'Tis gold

51. Prefer, recommend. 58. are senseless, must affect

52. solicits, F2,3,4 ; Fj soli- not to understand. Cloten takes
city (a misprint), solicitations. the last words as a reflection
Shakespeare does not use the upon his intelligence.

word elsewhere ; but there is 64. towards himself, etc. , we

no sufficient ground for adopt- must give him ampler recog-

ing (with most modern edd. ) nition in view of his former ser-

Collier's soliciting. vices.

160 •

sc. in Cymbeline

Which buys admittance ; oft it doth ; yea, and

makes

Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
Their deer to the stand o' the stealer ; and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the

thief;
Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man :

what

Can it not do and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me, for
I yet not understand the case myself. 80

[Knocks] By your leave.

Enter a Lady.

Lady. Who 's there that knocks ?

Clo. A gentleman.

Lady. No more ?

Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.

Lady. That 's more

Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours,
Can justly boast of. What 's your lordship's
pleasure ?

Clo. Your lady's person : is she ready ?

Lady. Ay,

To keep her chamber.

Clo. There is gold for you ;

Sell me your good report.

Lady. How ! my good name ? or to report of

you
What I shall think is good ? — The princess ! 9o

74. Diana s rangers, nymphs are placed in charge of her deer,

vowed to chastity. Diana was i.e. of their chastity,
the goddess at once of hunting /fl^ themselves< perjure

and of chastity ; the image is theniseives
drawn from the first and applied

to the second. Her ' rangers ' 75. stand, the station of the

are therefore primarily those who hunters in wait for the game.

VOL. IV 161 M

w*-r i i /-wynr-t* «

/J C2 • ^n S^-W^v i>"
UA'^-Si^ o-^ \£»/i t»v«Jl»A\jr/-* V.' . -We^ ^u^f^'W <^*

Cymbeline °- ACT H

.} W^Cvo-Js ks -VXc W-* vo - VS^(^>A^*V v

^«/(fr IMOGEN.

C7<9. Good morrow, fairest : sister, your sweet
hand. [Exit Lady.

Into. Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much

pains

For purchasing but trouble : the thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks
And scarce can spare them.

Clo. Still, I swear I love you.

Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me :
If you swear still, your recompense is still
That I regard it not.

Clo. This is no answer.

Imo. But that you shall not say I yield being

silent,

I would not speak. I pray you, spare me : 'faith, 100
I shall unfold equal discourtesy
To your best kindness : one of your great knowing
Should learn, being taught, forbearance.

Clo. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my

sin :
I will not.

Imo. Fools are not mad folks.

Clo. Do you call me fool ?

Imo. As I am mad, I do :
If you '11 be patient, I '11 no more be mad ;
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners, no

By being so verbal : and learn now, for all,
That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
By the very truth of it, I care not for you,

102. knowing; cf. note to ton's suggestion cure for are

i. 4. 30. (adopted by Theobald) is in-

106. Fools are not mad folks, genious but not necessary,

i. e. you are in no danger of such in. By being so verbal, by

' madness ' as mine. Warbur- his open protestations of love.

162

sc. in Cymbeline

And am so near the lack of charity —

To accuse myself — I hate you ; which I had rather

You felt than make 't my boast.

do. You sin against

Obedience, which you owe your father. For
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
One bred of alms and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scraps o' the court, it is no contract, none : 120
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties —
Yet who than he more mean ? — to knit their souls,
On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary, in self-figured knot ;
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o' the crown, and must not soil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.

Imo. Profane fellow !

Wert thou the son of Jupiter and no more 130

But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom : thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
Comparative for your virtues, to be styled
The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
For being preferr'd so well.

Clo. The south-fog rot him !

Imo. He never can meet more mischance than
come

121. in meaner parties , in the 128. a squire's cloth is in ap-

case of lowlier persons. position to livery.

124. self-figured, formed by 129. pantler, keeper of the
themselves, at their own choice. pantry.

125. enlargement, liberty. 136. The south-fog rot him:

126. The consequence o the the moist south and south-west
crown, the considerations implied winds were held to be fruitful of
in royalty. disease. To be blistered with

127. note, fame, honour. the south-west is one of Caliban's

128. hilding, mean fellow. threats.

t^JX \A"( V IX "'-

>:j^-^ C<r-' kj^-^J! •--•< ft~-W

Cymbeline

To be but named of thee. His meanest garment,
That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer
In my respect than all the hairs above thee, I40

Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio !

Enter PISANIO.

Clo. ' His garment ! ' Now the devil —

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee pre
sently —

Clo. ' His garment ! '

Imo. I am sprited with a fool,

Frighted, and anger'd worse : go bid my woman
Search for a jewel that too casually
Hath left mine arm : it was thy master's : 'shrew

me,

If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king's in Europe. I do think
I saw 't this morning : confident I am iSo

Last night 'twas on mine arm ; I kiss'd it :
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.

Pis. 'Twill not be lost.

Imo. I hope so : go and search.

[Exit Pisanio.

Clo. You have abused me :

' His meanest garment ! '

Imo. Ay, I said so, sir :

If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't.

Clo. I will inform your father.

Imo. Your mother too :

She 's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
But the worst of me. So, I leave you, sir,
To the worst of discontent. [Exit.

Clo. I '11 be revenged : ' i&»

' His meanest garment ! ' Well. [Exit.

144. sprited, haunted.
164

~Vk- *f <\t

J ,

\ <-

Enter POSTHUMUS

/. Fear it not, sir : I would I were so sure
To win the king as I am bold her honour
Will remain hers.

Phi. What means do you make to him ?

Post. Not any, but abide the change of time,
Quake in the present winter's state and wish
That warmer days would come : in these fear'd

hopes,

I barely gratify your love ; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.

Phi. Your very goodness and your company
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king 10

Hath heard of great Augustus : Caius Lucius
Will do 's commission throughly : and I think
He '11 grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.

Post. I do believe,

Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
That this will prove a war ; and you shall hear
The legions now in Gallia sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen ao

Are men more order'd than when Julius Caesar
Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at : their discipline,
Now mingled with their courages, will make known

3. What means, what steps i.e. is kept green by their grief

are you taking to win him.

6. fear'd hopes, hopes fraught inflicted.
with fears.

15. Is yet fresh in their grief, 16. Statist, statesman.

165

Cymbejine

To their, approvers they are people^ such
**Th'at mend\upbh, the world. .

• ' * *

Enter IACHIMO.

Phi. See ! lachimo !

Post. The swiftest harts have posted you by

land ;

And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails,
To make your vessel nimble.

Phi. Welcome, sir.

Post. I hope the briefness of your answer made 30
The speediness of your return.

lack. Your lady

Is one of the fairest that I have look'd upon.

Post. And therewithal the best ; or let her beauty
Look through a casement to allure false hearts
And be false with them.

lack. Here are letters for you.

Post. Their tenour good, I trust.

Inch. 'Tis very like.

Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
When you were there ?

lach. He was expected then,

But not approach'd.

Post. All is well yet.

Sparkles this stone as it was wont ? or is 't not 40
Too dull for your good wearing ?

lach. If I had lost it,

I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I '11 make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which

25. their approvers, those who Posthumus. But Posthumus is
put them to the test. just occupied with Imogen's

30. your answer, the answer lett«r' Yn'ch he f,nishef a' v' 39
you received. with ' All is well yet Capell

therefore transferred the speech
37, 38. Ff give this speech to to Philario.

1 66

«\A *-»-»~0

'orK r~r ,ji.

Cymbeline

J c~Wj ^

Was mine in Britain, for the ring is won.

Post. The stone 's too hard to come by.

lack. Not a whit,

Your lady being so easy.

Post. Make not, sir,

Your loss your sport : I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.

lack. Good sir, we must,

If you keep covenant. Had I not brought 5o

The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question further : but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring ; and not the wronger
Of her or you, having proceeded but
By both your wills.

Pos~t. If you can make 't apparent

That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
And ring is yours ; if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both 60
To who shall find them.

lack. Sir, my circumstances,

Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe : whose strength
I will confirm with oath ; which, I doubt not,
You '11 give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.

Post. Proceed.

lack. First, her bedchamber, —

Where, I confess, I slept not, but profess
Had that was well worth watching — it was hang'd
With tapestry of silk and silver ; the story
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, 7o

And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for

61. circumstances :, detailed 71. Cydnus, a river in Asia
account. Minor.

I67

Cymbeline

ACT II

The press of boats or pride : a piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value ; which I wonder'd
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on't was —

Post. This is true ;

And this you might have heard of here, by me,
Or by some other.

lack. More particulars

Must justify my knowledge.

Post. So they must,

Or do your honour injury.

lack. The chimney 80

Is south the chamber, and the chimney-piece
Chaste Dian bathing : never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves : the cutter
Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.

Post. This is a thing

Which you might from relation likewise reap,
Being, as it is, much spoke of.

lack. The roof o' the chamber

With golden cherubins is fretted : her andirons —
I had forgot them — were two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely 9o

Depending on their brands.

Post. This is her honour !

Let it be granted you have seen all this — and praise
Be given to your remembrance — the description
Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
The wager you have laid.

83. So likely to report them- their brands, daintily inclined
selves, telling their own story so upon their inverted torches. Cf.
clearly. Sonnets cliii. cliv.

83. cutter, carver. „ 91- This . is . h*r honour '

Posthumus ironically scoffs at

90. nicely depending on lachimo's notions of evidence.

168

sc. iv Cymbeline

lack. Then, if you can,

\_Shoiving the bracelet.

Be pale : I beg but leave to air this jewel ; see !
And now 'tis up again : it must be married
To that your diamond ; I '11 keep them.

Post. Jove !

Once more let me behold it : is it that
Which I left with her ?

lack. Sir — I thank her — that :

She stripp'd it from her arm ; I see her yet ;
Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enrich'd it too : she gave it me, and said
She prized it once.

Post. May be she pluck'd it off

To send it me.

lack. She writes so to you, doth she ?

Post. O, no, no, no ! 'tis true. Here, take this
too ; [Gives the ring.

It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on 't. Let there be no honour
Where there is beauty ; truth, where semblance ;

love,

Where there 's another man : the vows of women
Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,
Than they are to their virtues ; which is nothing.
O, above measure false !

Phi. Have patience, sir,

And take your ring again ; 'tis not yet won :
It may be probable she lost it ; or
Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted,
Hath stol'n it from her ?

Post. Very true ;

And so, I hope, he came by 't. Back my ring :
Render to me some corporal sign about her,
More evident than this ; for this was stolen. :

102. did outsell, outdid in value.
169

Cymbeline ACT

lack. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.

Post. Hark you, he swears ; by Jupiter he

swears.

'Tis true : — nay, keep the ring — 'tis true : I am sure
She would not lose it : her attendants are
All sworn and honourable : — they induced to steal

it!

And by a stranger ! — No, he hath enjoy'd her :
The cognizance of her incontinency
Is this : she hath bought the name of whore thus

dearly.

There, take thy hire ; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you !

Phi. Sir, be patient : 130

This is not strong enough to be believed
Of one persuaded well of —

Post. Never talk on 't ;

She hath been colted by him.

lack. If you seek

For further satisfying, under her breast —
Worthy the pressing — lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging : by my life,
I kiss'd it ; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?

Post. Ay, and it doth confirm

Another stain, as big as hell can hold, 140

Were there no more but it.

lack. Will you hear more?

Post. Spare your arithmetic : never count the

turns ;
Once, and a million !

lack. I '11 be sworn —

Post. No swearing.

If you will swear you have not done 't, you lie ;

132. Of one persuaded well, by one convinced of (his lady's virtue).
170

SC. V

Cymbeline

And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
Thou 'st made me cuckold.

lack. I '11 deny nothing.

Post, O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-
meal !

I will go there and do 't i' the court, before
Her father. I '11 do something — \Exit.

Phi. Quite besides

The government of patience ! You have won :
Let 's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.

lack. With all my heart. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Another room in Philarids house.

Enter POSTHUMUS.

Post. Is there no way for men to be but women
Must be half-workers ? We are all bastards ;
And that most venerable man which I
Did call my father, was I know not where
When I was stamp'd ; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit : yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time : so doth my wife
The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance !
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd
And pray'd me oft forbearance ; did it with 10

A pudency so rosy the sweet view on 't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn ; that I thought

her

As chaste as unsunn'd snow. O, all the devils !
This yellow lachimo, in an hour, — was 't not ? —
Or less, — at first ? — perchance he spoke not, but,

149. besides, beyond. the work.

151. pervert, turn aside. n. pudency, modesty.

2. half -workers, sharers in 15. atfirst, at the first attempt.
171

.A ».'i I I.

V,*^*.

"7^i - i 'i •

Cymbelme ACT m

Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,

Cried ' O ! ' and mounted ; found no opposition

But what he look'd for should oppose and she

Should from encounter guard. Could I find out

The woman's part in me ! For there 's no motion 2o

That tends to vice in man, but I affirm

It is the woman's part : be it lying, note it,

The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving, hers ;

Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges, hers ;

Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,

Nice longing, slanders, mutability,

All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows,

Why, hers, in part or all ; but rather, all ;

For even to vice

They are not constant, but are changing still 30

One vice, but of a minute old, for one

Not half so old as that. I '11 write against them,

Detest them, curse them : yet 'tis greater skill

In a true hate, to pray they have their will :

The very devils cannot plague them better.

[Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Britain. A hall in Cymbeline's palace.

Enter in state, CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and
Lords at one door, and at another, CAIUS
Lucius and Attendants.

Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar
with us ?

16. a German one, a wild 25. change of prides, pride that

boar, the hunting of which was lightly shifts its ground from one

especially associated with Ger- source of complacency to another.

many. 26. Nice, whimsical.

^v^Ao I72 . , <u« c^Mx/ ^.L^

\° Vx*r'''''1/t** ^*JV*~^ *•

•IfhCymbeline

When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance

yet

Lives in men's eyes and will to ears and tongues
Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain
And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle, —
Famous in Caesar's praises, no whit less
Than in his feats deserving it — for him
And his succession granted Rome a tribute,
Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately
Is left untender'd.

Queen. And, to kill the marvel, J0

Shall be so ever.

Clo. There be many Caesars, (')

Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself; and we will nothing pay
For wearing our own noses.

Queen. That opportunity

Which then they had to take from 's, to resume
We have again. Remember, sir, my liege,
The kings your ancestors, together with
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters, 20

With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of

conquest

Caesar made here ; but made not here his brag
Of ' Came ' and ' saw ' and ' overcame : ' with

shame —

The first that ever touch'd him — he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten ; and his

shipping —
Poor ignorant baubles ! — on our terrible seas,

18. bravery, state of defiance. 27. ignorant baubles, toys,

20. rocks, Seward's conjecture such as only those ignorant of our

for Ff oakes. ' terrible seas ' could launch there,

173

Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd

As easily 'gainst our rocks : for joy whereof

The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point — 3o

O giglot fortune ! — to master Caesar's sword,

Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright

And Britons strut with courage.

Clo. Come, there 's no more tribute to be
paid : our kingdom is stronger than it was at
that time ; and, as I said, there is no moe such
Caesars : other of them may have crook'd noses,
but to owe such straight arms, none.

Cym. Son, let your mother end.

Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe 4o
as hard as Cassibelan : I do not say I am one ;
but I have a hand. Why tribute ? why should
we pay tribute ? If Caesar can hide the sun from
us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket,
we will pay him tribute for light; else, sir, no
more tribute, pray you now.

Cym. You must know,
Till the injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free : Caesar's am
bition,

Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch 50
The sides o' the world, against all colour here
Did put the yoke upon 's ; which to shake off
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be.

Clo. and Lords. We do.

Cym. Say, then, to Caesar,

Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which
Ordain'd our laws, whose use the sword of Csesar

30. at point, on the point of. arrangement was proposed by

31. giglot, strumpet. Dyce and adopted by the Globe
54. This line reads in Ff and Camb. edd.

Ourselves to be. We do. Say, 56. whose use, the practice of

then, to Ccesar. The present which.

174

Cymbeline

Hath too much mangled ; whose repair and

franchise

Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry : Mulmutius

made our laws,

Who was the first of Britain which did put 60

His brows within a golden crown and call'd
Himself a king.

Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline,

That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar —
Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers — thine enemy :
Receive it from me, then : war and confusion
In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee : look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.

Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius.

Thy Caesar knighted me ; my youth I spent 70

Much under him ; of him I gather'd honour ;
Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
Their liberties are now in arms ; a precedent
Which not to read v/ould show the Britons cold :
So Caesar shall not find them.

Luc. Let proof speak.

Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make
pastime with us a day or two, or longer : if you
seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find 80
us in our salt-water girdle : if you beat us out
of it, it is yours ; if you fall in the adventure,
our crows shall fare the better for you j and
there 's an end.

57. franchise, unrestricted ranee,' to the death,
exercise. 73. perfect, well aware.

73. at utterance, ' a out- 77. proof, experience.

Cymbeline

Luc. So, sir.

Cym. I know your master's pleasure and he

mine :
All the remain is ' Welcome ! ' \Exeunt.

SCENE II. Another room in the palace.

Enter PISANIO, with a letter.

Pis. How ! of adultery ? Wherefore write you

not

What monster 's her accuser ? Leonatus !
O master ! what a strange infection
Is fall'n into thy ear ! What false Italian,
«A.s poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevail'd
On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal ! No :
She 's punished for her truth, and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in some virtue. O my master !
Thy mind to her is now as low as were 10

Thy fortunes. How ! that I should murder her?
Upon the love and truth and vows which I
Have made to thy command ? I, her ? her blood ?
If it be so to do good service, never
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity
So much as this fact comes to ? ' Do 't : the

letter
That I have sent her, by her own command

2. What monster's her ac- stance with the letter quoted in

cuser? For Ff What monsters full in iii. 4. 21 f. Pisanio may

her accuse ? be supposed to summarise the

17. as this fact comes to, as essential purport. Ff print the

the crime enjoined upon me words in vv. 18, 19 in italics,

implies. but the stage-direction 'Reading'

17-19. 'Do't . . . opportunity.' was added by Rowe, and is best

These words agree only in sub- omitted.

176

sc. ii Cymbeline

Shall give thee opportunity.' O damn'd paper !
Black as the ink that 's on thee ! Senseless

bauble, 20

Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without ? Lo, here she comes.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded.

Enter IMOGEN.

Imo. How now, Pisanio !

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.

Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord, Leonatus !
O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer
That knew the stars as I his characters ;
He 'Id lay the future open. You good gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love, 30*

Of my lord's health, of his content, yet not
That we two are asunder ; let that grieve him :
Some griefs are med'cinable ; that is one of them,
For it doth physic love : of his content,
All but in that ! Good wax, thy leave. Blest be
You bees that make these locks of counsel. Lovers
And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike :
Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods!

[Reads] 'Justice, and your father's wrath, 4o
should he take me in his dominion, could not
be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of
creatures, would even renew me with your eyes.
Take notice that I am in Cambria, at Milford-

21. feodary, ally. validity of the bond. The ' for-

23. 1 amignorant, I must feign feiter ' of a bond does not there-
ignorance, fore ' bless ' the bees who fur-

37. in dangerous bonds, who nished its seal, as the lover does

have entered into bonds entailing those whose wax 'clasps' his

a penalty if broken or 'forfeited.' lady's billets.
The seal was essential to the 42. as, but that.

VOL. IV 177 N

. s „ fl

^ , ,. (* v> )^

Cymbeline ACT m

Haven : what your own love will out of this
advise you, follow. So he wishes you all hap
piness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your,
increasing in love,

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.'

O, for a horse with wings ! Hear'st thou, Pisanio ? 50

He is at Milford-Haven : read, and tell me

How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs

May plod it in a week, why may not I

Glide thither in a day ? Then, true Pisanio, —

Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord ; who

long'st, —

O, let me bate, — but not like me — yet long'st,
But in a fainter kind : — O, not like me ;
• For mine's beyond beyond — say, and speak

thick ;

Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense — how far it is 60

To this same blessed Milford : and by the way
Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
To inherit such a haven : but first of all,
How we may steal from hence, and for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-
going
And our return, to excuse : but first, how get

hence :

Why should excuse be born or ere begot ?
We '11 talk of that hereafter. Prithee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

52. of mean affairs, concerned 63. inherit, come by, pos-

with common business. sess.

56. bate, qualify (the state- 67. or ere, ere. 'Why should

ment ' long like me '). the excuse be framed before its

58. speak thick, crowd the occasion?' — i.e. the 'getting

words together. hence. '

I78

One score 'twixt sun anosun, (jo
Madam, 's enough for you : [Aside] and too much

too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to 's execution,

man,
Could never go so slow : I have heard of riding

wagers,

Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i' the clock's behalf. But this is

foolery :

Go bid my woman feign a sickness ; say
She '11 home to her father : and provide me pre
sently

A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.

Pis. Madam, you 're best consider.

Imo. I see before me, man : nor here, nor here, 80
Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee ;
Do as I bid thee : there 's no more to say ;
Accessible is none but Milford way. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. Wales : a mountainous country

with a cave. (J \

Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS ; GUIDERIUS,
and ARVIRAGUS following.

Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such
Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys; this

gate
Instructs you how to adore the heavens and bows

you

75. run i' the clock' s behalf, 2. Stoop, Hanmer's correction

do the clock's work (i.e. in the of Ff sleep.
hour-glass).

179

gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven !
We house i' the rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.

Gut. Hail, heaven !

Arv. Hail, heaven !

Bel. Now for our mountain sport : up to yond

hill;

Your legs are young ; I '11 tread these flats. Con
sider,

When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off:
And you may then revolve what tales I have

told you

Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war :
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd : to apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see ;
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check,
Richer than doing nothing for a bauble,
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk :
Such gain the cap of him that makes 'em fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd : no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak : we, poor
unfledged,

5. jet, strut.

16. This service, i.e. that of
courts and princes.

17. allow'd, approved.

so. sharded, with scaly wing-
case.

22. check, rebuke.

23. bauble, Ff babe. Rowe's
emendation. Hanmer, bribe.

25. gain the cap, receive obse-
quious salutations (from the sup-
plierof the 'unpaid-for silk,' who
nevertheless remains unpaid).

27. proof, experience.

1 80

n u r
sc. in Cymbelme

W--Ui^fcv^» W<v.

Have never wing'd from view o' the nest, nor v \j^.v

know not

What air 's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life be best ; sweeter to you 30

That have a sharper known ; well corresponding
With your stiff age : but unto us it is

A 11 r • I j

A cell of ignorance ; travelling a-bed ;

A prison for a debtor, that not dares

„ r . , .. . tfo-a •v-rJ't^v**

I o stride a limit.

. ,TT. . JwAvt<e«

Arv. What should we speak of

When we are old as you ? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away ? We have seen nothing ;
We are beastly, subtle as the fox for prey, 40

Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat ;
Our valour is to chase what flies : our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak !

Did you but know the city's usuries
And felt them knowingly ; the art o' the court,
As hard to leave as keep ; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery that
The fear 's as bad as falling ; the toil o' the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger 50

I' the name of fame and honour; which dies i' the

search,

And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph
As record of fair act ; nay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what 's worse,
Must court'sy at the censure : — O boys, this story
The world may read in me : my body 's mark:d

29. What air' s from home, ation of Ff prison or.
what the air is like abroad.

34. prison for, Pope's emend- 35. stride, overstep.

181

Cymbeline ACT

With Roman swords, and my report was once
First with the best of note : Cymbeline loved me,
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree Co

Whose boughs did bend with fruit : but in one

night,

A storm or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.

Gui. Uncertain favour !

Bel. My fault being nothing — as I have told

you oft —

But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline
I was confederate with the Romans : so
Follow'd my banishment, and this twenty years
This rock and these demesnes have been my world ; 7o
Where I have lived at honest freedom, paid
More pious debts to heaven than in all
The fore-end of my time. But up to the moun

tains !

This is not hunters' language : he that strikes
The venison first shall be the lord o' the feast ;
To him the other two shall minister ;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I '11 meet you in the

valleys. [Exeunt Guiderius and Amiragus.
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature !
These boys know little they are sons to the king ; 80
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think they are mine ; and though train'd up

thus meanly
I' the cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit

63. hangings, fruit. 83. wherein they bow ; War-

burton's emendation of Ff
73- Jore-end, fore-part. whereon the Bow(e).

182

sc. in Cymbeline

The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them

In simple and low things to prince it much

Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,

The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who

The king his father call'd Guiderius, — Jove !

When on my thre^-foot stool I sit and tell

The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out 9o

Into my story : say 'Thus mine enemy fell,

And thus I set my foot on 's neck ; ' even then

The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,

Strains his young nerves and puts himself in posture

That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal,

Once Arviragus, in as like a figure,

Strikes life into my speech and shows much more

His own conceiving. — -Hark, the game is roused ! —

O Cymbeline ! heaven and my conscience knows

Thou didst unjustly banish me : whereon, i<x>

At three and two years old, I. stole these babes

Thinking to bar thee of succession, as

Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,

Thou wast their nurse ; they took thee for their

mother,

And every day do honour to her grave :
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up.

{Exit.

86. trick, art. gestures reflect the immediate

87. who, whom. impression of Belarius' tale,
94. nerves, muscles. Arviragus, a more imaginative
96. in as like a figure, 'act- hearer, heightens what he hears

ing my words ' as graphically as by his greater energy of concep-
his brother. While Guiderius' tion.

183

Cymbeline

SCENE IV. Country near Milford-Haven.

Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.

Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from

horse, the place

Was near at hand : ne'er long'd my mother so
To see me first, as I have now. Pisanio ! man !
Where is Posthumus ? What is in thy mind,
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks

that sigh

From the inward of thee ? One, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication : put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What 's the matter ? i0
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender ? If't be summer news,
Smile to 't before ; if winterly, thou need'st
But keep that countenance still. My husband's

hand !

That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he 's at some hard point. Speak, man : thy

tongue

May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.

Pis. Please you, read ;

And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain'd of fortune. 20

Imo. \Reads\ ' Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath
played the strumpet in my bed ; the testimonies

8. self -explication, the power 15. drug-damn'd, detested for
of accounting for himself. its (poisonous) drugs.

9. haviour, posture.

184

sc. iv Cymbeline

whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of
weak surmises, but from proof as strong as my
grief and as certain as I expect my revenge.
That part thou, Pisanio, must act for me, if thy
faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let
thine own hands take away her life : I shall give
thee opportunity at Milford- Haven. She hath
my letter for the purpose : where, if thou fear to
strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art
the pandar to her dishonour and equally to me
disloyal.'

Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword?

the paper

Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose

tongue

Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world : kings, queens and

states,

Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters. What cheer,

madam ?

Into. False to his bed ! What is it to be false ?
To lie in watch there and to think on him ?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock ? if sleep charge

nature,

To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake ? that 's false to 's bed,

is it?

Pis. Alas, good lady !

Imo. I false ! Thy conscience witness : lachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency ;
Thou then look'dst like a villain ; now methinks
Thy favour 's good enough. Some jay of Italy

39. states, men of high estate. 51. jay, bedizened harlot.

ACT III

Whose mother was her painting, hath betray 'd

him:

Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion ;
And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
^ t> I must be ripp'd : — to pieces with me ! — O,

i Men's vows are women's traitors ! All good
v<fl-~ seeming,

By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villany ; not born where 't grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.

Pis. Good madam, hear me.

Into. True honest men being heard, like false
VOB~->-I •'Eneas, 60

jiT-Were in his time thought false, and Sinon's

weeping

Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
From most true wretchedness : so thou, Posthu-

mus,

Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men ;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou honest :
Do thou thy master's bidding : when thou see'st

him,

A little witness my obedience : look !
I draw the sword myself : take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart : 70

Fear not ; 'tis empty of all things but grief:
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
The riches of it : do his bidding ; strike.

52. Whose mother -was her 61. Sinon, who induced the

painting, who is ' made ' by her Trojans to admit the wooden

painted face. Cf. iv. 2. 81: 'he horse into Troy by pretending

made those clothes, which, as it to be a Greek deserter,

seems, make thee/ &2 scandal> put a SCandal

54- far. because. defame

60. false sEneas, i.e. m his

betrayal of Dido. 64. proper, fair seeming.

186

%~ V«

Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause ;
But now thou seem'st a coward.

Pis. Hence, vile instrument !

Thou shalt not damn my hand.

Imo. Why, I must die ;

And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my

heart. 80

Something 's afore 't. Soft, soft ! we '11 no defence ;
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here ?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turn'd to heresy ? Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith ! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: though those that are betray'd
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.

And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up 9o

My disobedience 'gainst the king my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness : and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee, dispatch :
The lamb entreats the butcher : where 's thy knife ?

81. afore' t. Rowe'semenda- 94. common passage, com-

tion of Ff afoot. mon occurrence.

8^. scriptures, his letters, . 95- A strain of rareness, a

which she 'had once devoutly disposition rarely found.

believed 9°' d**R3Pa* fy> sated with.

97. tirest on, ravenously
90. set up, instigate. feedest Qn (primarily said &

93. fellows, equals. birds of prey).

I87

« *» . . - . I ',. I » I

• • • • * .A. .

- ••

ACT

Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding, 100
When I desire it too.

Pis. O gracious lady,

Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.

Irno. Do 't, and to bed then.

Pis. I '11 wake mine eye-balls blind first.

Imo. Wherefore then

Didst undertake it ? ^hy hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretence ? this place ?
Mine action and thine own ? our horses' labour ?
The time inviting thee ? the perturb'd court,
For my being absent? whereunto I never
Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far, no

To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee ?

Pis. But to win time

To lose so bad employment ; in the which
I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.

Imo. Talk thy tongue weary ; speak :

I have heard I am a strumpet ; and mine ear,
Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.

Pis. Then, madam,

I thought you would not back again.

Imo. Most like ;

Bringing me here to kill me.

Pis. Not so, neither : 120

But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused :

104. wake, watch. son proposed out ; but this is

ib. blind. This was sup- less suitable to the rhythm.

plied by Hanmer, Ff, by an

evident error, reading: 'I'll in. be unbent, stand with

wake mine eyeballs first.' John- unbent bow.

188

SC. IV

Cymbeline •

Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.

Into. Some Roman courtezan.

Pis. No, on my life.

I '11 give but notice you are dead and send him
Some bloody sign of it ; for 'tis commanded
I should do so : you shall be miss'd at court,
And that will well confirm it.

Imo. Why, good fellow, J3o

What shall I do the while ? where bide ? how live ?
Or in my life what comfort, when I am
Dead to my husband ?

Pis. If you '11 back to the court —

Imo. No court, no father ; nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as a siege.

Pis. If not at court,

Then not in Britain must you bide.

Imo. Where then ?

Hath Britain all the sun that shines ? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain ? I' the world's volume 140
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't ;
In a great pool a swan's nest : prithee, think
There 's livers out of Britain.

Pis. I am most glad

You think of other place. The ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow : now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which, to appear itself, must not yet be

135. harsh, rude. suitable to one of obscure sta-

ib. noble, ironically said of tion.

Cloten's high birth in contrast 148. That which can only

with his rudeness and simplicity. appear itself to your own peril

147. Dark as your fortune, (viz. your rank and sex).

189

Cymbeline

~*^«

But by self-danger, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of view ; yea^Jiaply, near 150

The residence of PosthumusVso nigh at least
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.

Into. O, for such means !

Though peril to my modesty, not death on 't,
I would adventure.

Pis. Well, then, here 's the point :

You must forget to be a woman ; change
Command into obedience : fear and niceness —
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it pretty self— into a waggish courage : 160
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy and
As quarrelous as the weasel ; nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it — but, O, the harder heart !
Alack, no remedy ! — to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo. Nay, be brief:

I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.

Pis. ' First, make yourself but like one. 170

Fore-thinking this, I have already fit —
'Tis in my cloak-bag — doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them : would you in their serving,

150. Pretty and full of view, ably, 'this too hard heart of

seemly, and with full oppor- mine which makes such a pro-

tunity of observation. posal. '

160. it, its. 166. common -kissing Titan,

162. quarrelous as the weasel ; the sun, which shines on all

the weasel was proverbial for its alike.
spleen. 167. laboursome . . . trims,

164. the harder heart ; prob- elaborate personal adornments.

190

* +

sc. iv Cymbeline

And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you 're happy, — which you '11 make him

know,

If that his head have ear in music, — doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he's honour
able
And doubling that, most holy. Your means

abroad, . 180

You have me, rich ; and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.

I mo. Thou art all the comfort

The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away :
There 's more to be consider'd ; but we '11 even
All that good time will give us : this attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short fare
well,

Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, 190
Here is a box ; I had it from the queen :
What 's in 't is precious ; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
Direct you to the best !

Imo. Amen : I thank thee. [.Exeunt, severally.

177. happy, skilled. for your support in your wan-

ib. -which you 'II make him denn&s-

know; Hanmer's emendation of l8«' «*" al1 that £ood time

Ff -which will make him vnl1 Slve us' be even wlth' make

know • the most of, our opportunities.

1 86. / am soldier to, I enter

179. embrace, welcome. upon wkh a so)dier,s resolutjon_

180. Your means abroad, as 190. carriage, conveyance.

C^KA^O f.

Cymbeline ACT

SCENE V. A room in Cymbeline 's palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, Lucius,
Lords, and Attendants.

Cym. Thus far ; and so farewell.

Luc. Thanks, royal sir.

My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence ;
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.

Cym. Our subjects, sir,

Will not endure his yoke ; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unldnglike.

Luc. So, sir : I desire of you

A conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befal your grace !

Queen. And you !

Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that

office ;

The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.

Luc. Your hand, my lord.

Clo. Receive it friendly ; but from this time

forth
I wear it as your enemy.

Luc. Sir, the event

Is yet to name the winner : fare you well.

Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my

lords,
Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness !

[Exeunt Lucius and Lords.

Queen. He goes hence frowning : but it honours

That we have given him cause.
192

SC. V

Cymbeline

Clo. 'Tis all the better ;

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it 20

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness :
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he

moves
His war for Britain.

Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business ;

But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.

Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd 30
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day : she looks us like
A thing more made of malice than of duty :
We have noted it. Call her before us ; for
We have been too slight in sufferance.

\Exit an Attendant.

Queen. Royal sir,

Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been ; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her : she 's a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes 40

And strokes death to her.

Re-enter Attendant.

Cym. Where is she, sir? How

Can her contempt be answer'd ?

Atten. Please you, sir,

Her chambers are all lock'd; and there 's no answer
That will be given to the loud'st noise we make.

32. looks, looks upon. too negligent in thus indulging;

35. too slight in sufferance, her.

VOL. IV 193 O

Cymbeline ACT m

Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close,
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer : this
She wish'd me to make known ; but our great

court 5o

Made me to blame in memory.

Cym. Her doors lock'd ?

Not seen of late ? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
Prove false ! [Exit.

Queen. Son, I say, follow the king.

Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
I have not seen these two days.

Queen. Go, look after. [Exit Cloten.

Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus !
He hath a drug of mine ; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized

her, 60

Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she '.« flown
To her desired Posthumus : gone she is
To death or to dishonour ; and my end
Can make good use of either : she being down,
J have the placing of the British crown.

Re-enter CLOTEN.

How now, my son !

Clo. 'Tis certain she is fled.

Go in and cheer the king : he rages ; none
Dare come about him.

Queen. \Aside\ All the better : may

This night forestall him of the coming day ! [Exit.

50. our great court, this im- 69. forestall, deprive ; may
portant court-meeting. he die of his rage.

194

sc. v Cymbeline

Clo. I love and hate her : for she 's fair and

royal, 70

And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman ; from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all ; I love her therefore : but
Disdaining me and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus slanders so her judgement
That what 's else rare is choked ; and in that point
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged upon her. For when fools
Shall—

Enter PISANIO.

Who is here ? What, are you packing, sirrah ? 80
Come hither : ah, you precious pandar ! Villain,
Where is thy lady ? In a word ; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.

Pis. O, good my lord !

Clo. Where is thy lady ? or, by Jupiter, —
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I '11 have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus ?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.

Pis. Alas, my lord,

How can she be with him ? When was she miss'd ? 90
He is in Rome.

Clo. Where is she, sir ? Come nearer ;

No further halting : satisfy me home
What is become of her.

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord !

72. Than lady, ladies, -woman. man,' All's Well, ii. 3. 202.

Cloten's meaning is best illus- 80. packing, plotting,
trated by a similar saying of his

counterpart Parolles : ' To any 8> close< secret-

count, to all counts, to what is 92. home, completely.

195

Cymbeline

ACT III

Clo.' All-worthy villain !

Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word : no more of ' worthy lord ! '
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.

Pis. Then, sir,

This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter.

Clo. Let 's see 't. I will pursue her 100

Even to Augustus' throne.

Pis. [Aside'] Or this, or perish.

She 's far enough ; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.

Clo. Hum !

Pis. [Aside] I '11 write to my lord she 's dead.

O Imogen,
Safe mayst tliou wander, safe return again !

Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true ?

Pis. Sir, as I think.

Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah,
if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true
service, undergo those employments wherein I no
should have cause to use thee with a serious
industry, that is, what villany soe'er I bid thee
do, to perform it directly and truly, I would
think thee an honest man : thou shouldst neither
want my means for thy relief nor my voice for thy
preferment.

Pis. Well, my good lord.

Clo. Wilt thou serve me? for since patiently
and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune
of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the 120
course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of
mine : wilt thou serve me ?

101. Or this or perish, i.e. I must either do this, or die.
no. undergo, undertake.

196

Cymbeline

Pis. Sir, I will.

Clo . Give me thy hand ; here 's my purse.
Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy
possession ?

Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same
suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and
mistress.

Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that 130
suit hither : let it be thy first service ; go.

Pis, I shall, my lord. \Exit.

Clo, Meet thee at Milford-Haven ! — I forgot
to ask him one thing ; I '11 remember 't anon : —
even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill
thee. I would these garments were come. She
said upon a time — the bitterness of it I now belch
from my heart — that she held the very garment
of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and
natural person, together with the adornment of i40
my qualities. With that suit upon my back, will
I ravish her : first kill him, and in her eyes ; there
shall she see my valour, which will then be a tor
ment to her contempt. He on the ground, my
speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and
when my lust hath dined, — which, as I say, to
vex her I will execute in the clothes that she so
praised, — to the court I '11 knock her back, foot her
home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly,
and I '11 be merry in my revenge. iso

Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes,

Be those the garments ?

Pis, Ay, my noble lord.

Clo. How long is !t since she went to Milford-
Haven ?

Pis, She can scarce be there yet.

148. foot, kick.
197

- N*r p^^v N. l>

Cymbeline

Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber ; that
is the second thing that I have commanded thee :
the third is, that thou wilt be a voluntary mute
to my design. Be but duteous, and true prefer
ment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is 160
now at Milford : would I had wings to follow it !
Come, and be true. [Exit.

Pis. Thou bid'st me to my loss : for true to

thee

Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her ! This fool's speed
Be cross'd with slowness ; labour be his meed !

[Exit.

SCENE VI. Wales. Before the cave of Belarius.

Enter IMOGEN, in boy's clothes.

Imo. I see a man's life is a tedious one :
I have tired myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be

sick,

But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think
Foundations fly the wretched ; such, I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told

I could not miss my way : will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis 10

A punishment or trial ? Yes ; no wonder,

7. Foundations, fixed places (with a play upon the sense : chari
table establishments).

198

sc. vi Cymbeline

When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in

fulness

Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord !
Thou art one o' the false ones. Now .1 think on

thee,

My hunger 's gone ; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food. But what is this?
Here is a path to 't : 'tis some savage hold :
I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. 20
Plenty and peace breeds cowards : hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother. Ho ! who's here?
If any thing that 's civil, speak ; if savage,
Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll

enter.

Best draw my sword ; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me, he '11 scarcely look

on 't.
Such a foe, good heavens ! [Exit, to the cave.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. You, Polydore, have proved best woodman

and

Are master of the feast : Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant ; 'tis our match : 30
The sweat of industry would dry and die,
But for the end it works to. Come ; our stomachs
Will make what 's homely savoury : weariness

i'.'.. To lapse in fulness, to be ' bought ' or ' begged ' the food. )
false in the midst of abundance. The ellipse is harsh, and not
17. for, for want of. quite clear ; but Imogen's pre-
21, hardness, hardship. occupation with the thought of

23. civil, civilised. food makes it very natural.

24. Take or lend, take pay- 27. Such a foe, i.e. send me
ment, or give me (food). (Cf. such a foe !

v. 48, where she would have 28. woodman, hunter.
I99

Cymbeline ACT m

Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth

Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,

Poor house, that keep'st thyself!

GUI'. I am throughly weary.

Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.

GUI. There is cold meat i' the cave ; we '11

browse on that,
Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.

Bel. {Looking into the cave] Stay ; come not in. 40
But that it eats our victuals, I should think
Here were a fairy.

Gut. What 's the matter, sir ?

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel ! or, if not,
An earthly paragon ! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy !

Re-enter IMOGEN.

Imo. Good masters, harm me not :
Before I enter'd here, I call'd ; and thought
To have begged or bought what I have took : good

troth.
I have stol'n nought, nor would not, though I had

found
Gold strew'd i' the floor. Here 's money for my

meat : so

I would have left it on the board so soon
As I had made my meal, and parted
With prayers for the provider.

Gut. Money, youth ?

Arv. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt !
As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.

Imo. I see you 're angry :

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it

34. resty, lazy. 55. but of, except by.

200

Cymbeline

Bel Whither bound ?

In/o. To Milford-Haven.

Bel. What 's your name ? 60

Imo. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
Is bound for Italy ; he embark'd at Milford ; •
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I am fall'n in this offence.

Bel. Prithee, fair youth,

Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd !
'Tis almost night : you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart ; and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.

Gut. Were you a woman, youth,

I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty, 7o
I bid for you as I 'Id buy.

Arv. I '11 make 't my comfort

He is a man ; I '11 love him as my brother :
And such a welcome as I 'Id give to him
After long absence, such is yours : most welcome !
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.

Imo. 'Mongst friends,

If brothers. [Aside] Would it had been so, that

they

Had been my father's sons ! then had my prize
Been less, and so more equal ballasting
To thee, Posthumus.

Bel. He wrings at some distress.

Gut. Would I could free 't !

Arv. Or I, whate'er it be, 80

What pain it cost, what danger. Gods !

Bel. Hark, boys.

[ Whispering.

Imo. Great men,

64. in, into. she would not then have been

77. my prize, my estimation ; heir-apparent.

201

Cymbeline ACT

That had a court no bigger than this cave,
That did attend themselves and had the virtue
Which their own conscience seal'd them — laying by
That nothing-gift of differing multitudes —
Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods !
I 'Id change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus' false.

Bel. It shall be so.

Boys, we '11 go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come

in: 9o

Discourse is heavy, fasting ; when we have supp'd,
We '11 mannerly demand thee of thy story,
So far as thou wilt speak it.

Gui. Pray> draw near.

Arv. The night to the owl and morn to the
lark less welcome.

Imo. Thanks, sir.

Arv. I pray, draw near. \Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Rome. A public place.

Enter two Senators and Tribunes.

First Sen. This is the tenour of the emperor's

writ :

That since the common men are now in action
'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The falPn-off Britons, that we do incite
The gentry to this business. He creates
Lucius proconsul : and to you the tribunes,

86. ' The worthless honour multitude.'
they receive from the unbal- 90. hunt, quarry,
anced, incoherent, wavering 7. gentry, the patricians.

202

-• k * •

* •*• *

, . •• - '* - : *

-
For this immediate levy, he commends

His absolute commission. Long live Caesar !

First Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces ?

Sec. Sen. Ay.

First Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ?

First Sen. With those legions

Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
Must be supplyant : the words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers and the time
Of their dispatch.

First Tri. We will discharge our duty.

\Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Wales : near the cave of Belarius.

Enter CLOTEN.

Clo. I am near to the place where they should
meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit
his garments serve me ! Why should his mistress,
who was made by him that made the tailor, not
be fit too ? the rather — saving reverence of the
word — for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits.
Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak
it to myself — for it is not vain-glory for a man and
his glass to confer in his own chamber — I mean,
the lines of my body are as well drawn as his ; 10
no less young, more strong, not beneath him in

'9. commends, delivers. Warburton's emendation of Ff commands.
. 14. supplyant, auxiliary.

•*> f~.-*vA-*\°Y*ftsA vOu '*v

\ * •
t> *\ • v^s

fortunes, beyond him In th~e advantage of the time,
above him in birth, alike conversant in general
services, and more remarkable in single opposi
tions : yet this imperseverant thing loves him in
my despite. What mortality is ! Posthumus, thy
head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders,
shall within this hour be off; thy mistress en
forced ; thy garments cut to pieces before thy
face : and all this done, spurn her home to her
father ; who may haply be a little angry for my so
rough usage ; but my mother, having power of
his testiness, shall turn all into my commenda
tions. My horse is tied up safe : out, sword, and
to a sore purpose ! Fortune, put them into my
hand ! This is the very description of their meet
ing-place ; and the fellow dares not deceive me.

[Exit.

SCENE II. Before the cave of Belarius.

Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,
ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN.

Bel. \_To Imogen] You are not well : remain

here in the cave ;
We '11 come to you after hunting.

Arv. [To Imogen] Brother, stay here :

Are we not brothers?

12. the advantage of the time,
the prestige of worldly station.

14. more remarkable in single
oppositions, more distinguished
when compared in particular ac
complishments (Schmidt). Clo-
ten's language is vague, but this
seems preferable to the usual

interpretation : ' more remark
able in single combats.'

15. imperseverant, undiscern-
ing. The word was, in popular
use, connected with ' perceive. '
Dyce (followed by Globe and
Camb. edd. ) needlessly indi
cated this by the spelling im-
perceiverant.

Cymbeline

Imo. So man and man should be ;

But clay and clay differs in dignity,
Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.

Gut. Go you to hunting ; I '11 abide with him.

Imo. So sick I am not, yet I am not well ;
But not so citizen a wanton as
To seem to die ere sick : so please you, leave me ;
Stick to your journal course : the breach of

custom i<

Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me
Cannot amend me ; society is no comfort
To one not sociable : I am not very sick,
Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here :
I '11 rob none but myself; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.

Gui. I love thee ; I have spoke it :

How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.

Bel. What! how! how!

Arv. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault : I know not why 2<

I love this youth ; and I have heard you say,
Love's reason 's without reason : the bier at door,
And a demand who is \ shall die, I 'Id say
' My father, not this youth.'

Bel. \Aside\ O noble strain !

0 worthiness of nature ! breed of greatness !
Cowards father cowards and base things sire base :
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.

1 'm not their father ; yet who this should be,
Doth miracle itself, loved before me.

'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.

8. so citizen a wanton, so (cf. As You Like It, ii. 7.
effeminately pampered. Citizen, 75).

after the fashion of the notori- 10. journal, daily, habitual,

ously luxurious 'city -women' 14. reason, discourse.

205

Cymbeline ACT iv

Arv. Brother, farewell. 30

Imo. I wish ye sport.

Arv. You health. So please you, sir.

Imo. \Aside~] These are kind creatures. Gods,

what lies I have heard !
Our courtiers say all 's savage but at court :
Experience, O, thou disproves! report !
The imperious seas breed monsters, for the dish
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
I am sick still ; heart-sick. Pisanio,
I '11 now taste of thy drug. [Swallows some.

Gui. I could not stir him :

He said he was gentle, but unfortunate ;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest. 4o

Arv. Thus did he answer me : yet said, here
after
I might know more.

Bel. To the field, to the field

We '11 leave you for this time : go in and rest.

Arv. We '11 not be long away.

Bel. Pray, be not sick,

For you must be our housewife.

Imo. Well or ill,

I am bound to you.

Bel. And shalt be ever.

\Exit Imogen, to the cave.
This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath

had
Good ancestors.

Arv. How angel-like he sings !

Gut. But his neat cookery ! he cut our roots
In characters,

And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick 50
And he her dieter.

Arv. Nobly he yokes

35. imperious, imperial.
206

SC. II

Cymbeline

A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was, for not being such a smile :
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.

Gui. I do note

That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.

Arv. Grow, patience !

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine WV
His perishing root with the increasing vine ! 60

Bel. It is great morning. Come, away ! —
Who 's there ?

Enter CLOTEN.

Clo. I cannot find those runagates ; that villain
Hath mock'd me. I am faint.

Bel. ' Those runagates ! '

Means he not us ? I partly know him : 'tis
Cloten, the son o' the queen. I fear some ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet
I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws : hence !

Gut. He is but one : you and my brother

What companies are near : pray you, away;
Let me alone with him.

\Exeunt Belarius and Arviragus.

Clo. Soft ! What are you 70

That fly me thus ? some villain mountaineers ?
I have heard of such. What slave art thou ?

Gut. A thing

58. spurs, branching roots of twine with; cf. v. 122 below.

a • . 61. great morning, broad

60. vine, i.e. patience; un- d (grand jour\.
twtne with is constructed as if it
were the negative of the verb 71. mountaineers, savages.

207

Cymbeline

More slavish did I ne'er than answering
A slave without a knock.

Clo. Thou art a robber,

A law-breaker, a villain : yield thee, thief.

Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou?

Have not I

An arm as big as thine ? a heart as big ?
Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not
My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art,
Why I should yield to thee ?

Clo. Thou villain base,

Know'st me not by my clothes ?

Gui. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

Who is thy grandfather : he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.

Clo. Thou precious varlet,

My tailor made them not.

Gui. Hence, then, and thank

The man that gave them thee. Thou art some

fool ;
I am loath to beat thee.

Clo. Thou injurious thief,

Hear but my name, and tremble.

Gui. What 's thy name ?

Clo. Cloten, thou villain.

Gui. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it : were it Toad, or Adder,

Spider,
'T would move me sooner.

Clo. To thy further fear,

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I am son to the queen.

Gui. I am sorry for 't ; not seeming.

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo. Art not nfeard ?

86. injurious, insulting.
208

SC. II

Cymbeline

Gui. Those that I reverence those I fear, th2

wise :
At fools I laugh, not fear them.

Clo. Die the death :

When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I '11 follow those that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's-town set your heads :
Yield, rustic mountaineer. [Exeunt, fighting. 100

Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. No companies abroad ?

Arv. None in the world : you did mistake
him, sure.

Bel. I cannot tell : long is it since I saw him,
But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour
Which then he wore ; the snatches in his voice,
And burst of speaking, were as his : I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten.

Arv. In this place we left them :

I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.

Bel. Being scarce made up,

I mean, to man, he had not apprehension no

Of roaring terrors ; for defect of judgement
Is oft the cause of fear. But, see, thy brother.

Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN'S head.

Gui. This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse ;
There was no money in 't : not Hercules
Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had none:

101. companies, companions. and gives an excellent sense.

104. lines of favour, features. But the meaning is that Cloten,

1 08. make good time, come lacking apprehension, is not

off well. subject to the intellectual man's

in. defect, misuse. Theo- foible of ingenious but unneces-

bald's tK effect was generally sary suspicion. He is not, in

adopted before the Camb. edd. , short, a Hamlet.

VOL. IV 209 P

Cymbeline

Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head as I do his.

Bel. What hast thou done?

Gut. I am perfect what : cut off one Cloten's

head,

Son to the queen, after his own report ;
Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore i
With his own single hand he 'Id take us in,
Displace our heads where — thank the gods ! — they

grow,
And set them on Lud's-town.

Bel. We are all undone.

Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to

lose,

But that he swore to take, our lives ? The law
Protects not us : then why should we be tender
To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us,
Play judge and executioner all himself,
For we do fear the law ? What company
Discover you abroad ?

Bel. No single soul

Can we set eye on ; but in all safe reason
He must have some attendants. Though his

humour

Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse ; not frenzy, not
Absolute madness could so far have raved
To bring him here alone ; although perhaps
It may be heard at court that such as we
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head ; the which he

hearing —

As it is like him — might break out, and swear
He 'Id fetch us in ; yet is 't not probable

1 1 8. perfect, well assured.
132. humour ; Ff (by misprint) honor.

210

sc. ii Cymbeline

To come alone, either he so undertaking,

Or they so suffering : then on good ground we

fear,

If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.

Arv. Let ordinance

Come as the gods foresay it : howsoe'er,
My brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

To hunt this day : the boy Fidele's sickness
Did make my way long forth.

Gui, With his own sword,

Which he did wave against my throat, I have

ta'en iSO

His head from him : I '11 throw 't into the creek
Behind our rock ; and let it to the sea,
And tell the fishes he 's the queen's son, Cloten :
That 's all I reck. [Exit.

Bel. I fear 'twill be revenged :

Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done ''t ! though

valour
Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. Would I had done 't,

So the revenge alone pursued me ! Polydore,
I love thee brotherly, but envy much
Thou hast robb'd me of this deed : I would re
venges,
That possible strength might meet, would seek

us through 160

And put us to our answer.

Bel. Well, 'tis done :

We '11 hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there 's no profit. I prithee, to our rock;
You and Fidele play the cooks : I '11 stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.

211

(** " ^ ^^ • ..~^<.~> , eg

^^t±^

' ^-v^J^ar^i.

Cymbeline ACT

Poor sick Fidele !
I '11 willingly to him : to gam his colour
I 'Id let a parish of such Clotens blood,
And praise myself for charity. [Exit.

Bel. O thou goddess,

Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st 170
In these two princely boys ! They are as genile
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonder
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught,
Civility not seen from other, valour
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop 180

As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it 's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.

Re-enter GUIDERIUS.

Gui. Where 's my brother ?

I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother : his body 's hostage
For his return. [Solemn music.

Bel. My ingenious instrument !

H.irk, Polydore, it sounds ! But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!

Gui. Is he at home ?

Bel. He went hence even now.

» Gui. What does he mean ? since death of my

dear'st mother 190

It did not speak before. All solemn things

167. gain, restore. the object, ' let blood ( = bleed) '

168. I'ld let a parish, etc. ; the predicate.

a parish of such Clotens ' is 179. Civility, breeding.

2" J

sc. n Cymbeline

Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad ?

Bel. Look, here he comes,

And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for.

Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN, as dead,
bearing her in his arms. (/ j

Arv. The bird is dead

That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch, 20o

Than have seen this.

Gut. O sweetest, fairest lily !

My brother wears thee not the one half so well
As when thou grew'st thyself.

Bel. O melancholy !

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ? find
The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Might easiliest harbour in ? Thou blessed thing !
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made ;

but I,

Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy.
How found you him ?

Arv. Stark, as you see :

Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, 210
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at ; his right
cheek

193. toys, (for) trifles. able sea, where no soundings

205. crare, skiff ; Sympson's avail to guide to harbour.
ciu-jruiatioii for Ff care. The

image ambiguously suggested in 211. Not as death 's dart, being

v. 204 is made explicit in 205, laugh'd at, not as if death's

206 : Melancholy is a sluggish dart had struck him, since he

bark afloat upon an unfathom- laughed.

I o/k <WWv-.,'j <^WU-ijcU^ uv. ^JI U^,',J«wvy ,.

•&X

Cymbeline ACT

Reposing on a cushion.

Gut. Where ?

^4rz>. O' the floor ;

His arms thus leagued : I thought he slept, and put
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answer' d my steps too loud.

Gui. Why, he but sleeps :

If he be gone, he '11 make his grave a bed ;
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worm^.will not come to thee.

An>, With fairest flowers

Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele,
I '11 sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack 220
The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath : the ruddock would,
With charitable bill, — O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a monument ! — bring thee all this ;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are

none,
To winter-ground thy corse.

GUI'. Prithee, have done ;

And do not play in wench-like words with that 230
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To the grave !

Arv. Say, where shall 's lay him ?

214. clouted brogues, rough 224. ruddock, robin.

shoes patched with leather (pos- 229. winter-ground, lay in an

sibly, wooden shoes with hob- artificial ' ground ' for protection

nails). through the winter (a gardening

222. harebell, wild hyacinth. term)-

233. snail s, shall we ; prob-

223. whom not to slander; ably formed on the analogy of
who, without slandering it. ' let us,' etc.

2IA

: . ,i^~ • 0 \

^ - «^p VfT-

sc. ii Cymbeline

Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother.

Arv. Be 't so :

And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the

ground,

As once our mother ; use like note and words
Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.

Gui. Cadwal,

I cannot sing : I '11 weep, and word it with thee ; 240
For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.

Arv. We '11 speak it, then.

Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less ; for

Cloten

Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys ;
And though he came our enemy, remember
He was paid for that : though mean and mighty,

rotting

Together, have one dust, yet reverence,
That angel of the world, doth make distinction
Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was

princely ;

And though you took his life, as being our foe, 25o
Yet bury him as a prince.

Gui. Pray you, fetch him hither.

Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
When neither are alive.

Arv. If you '11 go fetch him,

We '11 say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.

[Exit Belarius.

Gui. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the

east ;
My father hath a reason for 't.

Arv. Tis true.

Gui. Come on then, and remove him.

Arv. So. Begin.

215

Cymbeline

ACT IV

SONG.

Gul. Fear no more the heat o' the sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Thou thy" worldly task hast done, 26o

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages :
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Arv. Fear no more the frown o' the great ;

Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ;
Care no more to clothe and eat ;

To thee the reed is as the oak :
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Gut. Fear no more the lightning-flash, 270

An>. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone ;
Gui. Fear not slander, censure rash ;
Arv. Thou hast fmish'd joy and moan :
Both. All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

Gui. No exorciser harm thee !
Arv. Nor no witchcraft charm thee !
Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee !
Arv. Nothing ill come near thee !
Both. Quiet consummation have ; 280

And renowned be thy grave !

Re-enter BELARIUS, with the body </ CLOTEN.

Gui. We have done our obsequies : come, lay
him down.

262. Golden, glancing in the the same terms with thee.

brilliance of youth. 276. No exorciser harm thee,

271. thunder-stone, 'thunder- i.e. by raising thy spirit. To

bolt,' popularly connected with raise (not lay) spirits was the

meteoric stones. regular Elizabethan use of exor-

275. Consign to thee, make cise and its derivatives.

2l6

SC. II

Cymbeline

Bel. Here 's a few flowers ; but 'bout midnight,

The herbs that have on them cold dew o' the night
Are strewings fitt'st for graves. Upon their faces.
You were as flowers, now wither'd : even so
These herblets shall, which we upon you strew.
Come on, away : apart upon our knees.
The ground that gave them first has them again :
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain. 290

[Exeunt Belarius, Gttiderius, and Arviragus.
Imo. \Awaking\ Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven;

which is the way ? —
I thank you! — By yond bush? — Pray, how far

thither ?

'Ods pittikins ! can it be six mile yet? —
I have gone all night. 'Faith, I '11 lie down and

sleep.

But, soft ! no bedfellow ! — O gods and goddesses !
\Seeing the body of Cloten.

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world ;
This bloody man, the care on 't. I hope I dream ;
For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,
And cook to honest creatures : but 'tis not so ;
'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, 3oo

Which the brain makes of fumes : our very eyes
Are sometimes like our judgements, blind. Good

faith,

I tremble still with fear : but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it !

285. Upon their faces, i.e. been perilously near the grot-

• strew the flowers. Strictly, this esque. That Shakespeare did

can only apply to Imogen ; but not ' forget ' Cloten's state is

the ceremony would be spon- shown by the immediate sequel.

taneously adapted to the case of

the headless man, while so to 293. 'Ods pittikins/ 'God's

adapt the formula would have pity."

217

Cymbeline ACT iv

The dream 's here still : even when I wake, it is
Without me, as within me ; not imagined, felt.
A headless man ! The garments of Posthumus !
I know the shape of 's leg : this is his hand ;
His foot Mercurial ; his Martial thigh ; 3i0

The brawns of Hercules : but his Jovial face —
Murder in heaven ? — How ! — Tis gone. Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee'! Thou,
Conspired with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read
Be henceforth treacherous ! Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters, — damn'd Pisanio —
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top ! O Posthumus ! alas, 320

Where is thy head ? where 's that ? Ay me !

where 's that ?

Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
And left this head on. How should this be?

Pisanio ?

'Tis he and Cloten : malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, preg
nant !

The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murderous to the senses? That confirms it

home :

This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's : O !
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, 330

That we the horrider may seem to those
WThich chance to find us : O, my lord, my lord !

[Falls on the body.

311. Jovial face ; cf. Hamlet : 315. irregulous, lawless.

' the front of Jove himself.'

313. madded, i.e. at the slay- 325. pregnant, evident, con
ing of Hector by Achilles. vincing.

2l8

SC. II

Cymbeline

Enter Lucius, a Captain and other Officers, and
a Soothsayer.

Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia,
After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending
You here at Milford-Haven with your ships :
They are in readiness.

Luc. But what from Rome?

Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,
That promise noble service : and they come
Under the conduct of bold lachimo, 340

Syenna's brother.

Luc. When expect you them?

Cap. With the next benefit o' the wind.

Luc. This forwardness

Makes our hopes fair. Command our present

numbers

Be muster'd ; bid the captains look to 't. Now, sir,
What have you dream'd of late of this war's pur
pose?

Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a

vision —

I fast and pray'd for i.heir intelligence — thus :
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanish'd in the sunbeams : which portends — 350
Unless my sins abuse my divination —
Success to the Roman host.

333. To them, i.e. in addi- invasion under Claudius, when

tion to the forces already in ' the mariners and men of war '

Britain. were encouraged by seeing ' a

337. confiners, borderers. fierie leme [light] to shoot out

341. Syenna, the ruler of of the east towards the west,

Sienna. which way their course lay '

346 f. This episode was prob- (Stone's Holinshed, p. 15).

ably suggested by Holinshed's 347. fast, fasted,

description of Aulus Plautius' 349. spongy, moist.

2I9

Cymbeline

Luc. Dream often so,

And never false. Soft, ho ! what trunk is here
Without his top ? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How ! a page !
Or dead, or sleeping on him ? But dead rather;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let 's see the boy's face.

Cap. He 's alive, my lord.

Luc. He '11 then instruct us of this body.

Young one, 36o

Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow ? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath alter'd that good picture ? What 's thy in
terest

In this sad wreck ? How came it ? Who is it ?
What art thou ?

Into. I am nothing : or if not,

Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas ! 37o

There is no more such masters : I may wander
From east to Occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.

Luc. 'Lack, good youth !

Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding : say his name, good
friend.

lino. Richard du Champ. [Aside] If I do lie

and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope

364. otherwise than noble nature did, to another figure than that
which nature painted.

220

sc. n Cymbeline

They 'il pardon it. — Say you, sir ?

Luc. Thy name ?

Imo. Fidele, sir.

Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same : 380
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me ? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well master'd, but, be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not soomer
Than thine own worth prefer thee i gt> with. me.

Imo. I '11 follow, sir. But first, an 't please the

gods,

I '11 hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig ; and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his

grave, 39o

And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I '11 weep and sigh ;
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.

Luc. Ay, good youth ;

And rather father thee than master thee.
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties : let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave : come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd 400
By thee to us, and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be cheerful ; wipe thine eyes :
Some falls are means the happier to arise. 1

[Exeunt.

399. partisans, halberds. in your arms.'

400. arm him, ' take him up 400. preferr ' d, committed.

221

Cymbeline

SCENE III. A room in Cymbeline1 s palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and
Attendants.

Cym. Again ; and bring me word how 'tis with
her. [Exit an Attendant

A fever with the absence of her son,
A madness, of which her life 's in danger. Heavens,
How deeply you at once do touch me ! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone ; my queen
Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
When fearful wars point at me ; her son gone,
So needful for this present : it strikes me, past
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure and
Dost seem so ignorant, we '11 enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.

Pis. Sir, my life is yours ;

I humbly set it at your will ; but, for my mistress,
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your

highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.

first Lord. Good my liege,

The day that she was missing he was here :
I dare be bound he 's true and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten,
"there wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will, no doubt, be found.

Cym. The time is troublesome.

[ To Pisanio~\ We '11 slip you for a season ; but our

jealousy
Does yet depend.

23. depend, hangs over you.

sc. in Cymbeline

First Lord. So please your majesty,

The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast, with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.

Cym. Now for the counsel of my son and

queen !
I am amazed with matter.

First Lord. Good my liege,

Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of: come more, for more

you 're ready : 30

The want is but to put those powers in motion
That long to move.

Cym. I thank you. Let 's withdraw ;

And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us ; but
We grieve at chances here. Away !

\Exeunt all but Pisanio.

Pis. I heard no letter from my master since
I wrote him Imogen was slain : 'tis strange :
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings ; neither know I
What is betid to Cloten ; but remain 40

Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work.
Wherein I am false I am honest ; not true, to be

true.

These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note o' the king, or I '11 fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd :
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd.

{Exit. '

28. amazed with matter, con- ' had no letter. ' Several of the
fused with die throng of affairs. older editions substitute ' have

29. affront, encounter. had no letter. '

36. heard no letter ; a kind 44. Even to the note o' the
of mixture of the two expres- king, so that even the king
sions : ' heard no news ' and learns it.

223

Cymbeline ACT iv

SCENE IV. Wales : before the cave of Belarius.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Gut. The noise is round about us.

Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to

lock it
From action and adventure ?

Gui. Nay, what hope

Have we in hiding us ? This way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.

Bel. Sons,

We '11 higher to the mountains ; there secure us.
To the king's party there 's no going : newness
Of Cloten's death — we being not known, not

muster'd 10

Among the bands — may drive us to a render
Where we have lived, and so extort from 's that
Which we have done, whose answer would be

death
Drawn on with torture.

Gui. This is, sir, a doubt

In such a time nothing becoming you,
Nor satisfying us.

Arv. It is not likely

That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,

6. revolts, rebels. 18. quarter'd fires, fires burn-

7. During their use, (receive ing in the quarters of the enemy,
us) so long as they can make camp fires.

use of us. 19. importantly, importun-

ii. render, report. ately.

224

sc, iv Cymbeline

That they will waste iheir time upon our note, 20
To know from whence we are.

Bel. O, I am known

Of many in the army : many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore

him

From my remembrance. And, besides, the king
Hath not deserved my service nor your loves ;
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life ; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promised,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings and
The shrinking slaves of winter.

Gui. Than be so 30

Better to cease to be. Pray, sjr, to the army :
I and my brother are not known ; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this sun that shines,

I '11 thither : what thing is it that I never
Did see man die ! scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison !
Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel ! I am ashamed 4o

To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Gut. By heavens, I '11 go :

If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I '11 take the better care, but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of Romans !

Arv. So say I : amen.

29. tanlings, tanned boys.
33. o'ergrousn, i.e. with shaggy, unkempt hair.

VOL. IV 225 Q

Cymbeline

ACT V

Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My crack'd one to more care. Have with you,

boys ! 5o

If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed too, lads, and there I '11 lie :
Lead, lead. \_Asidi\ The time seems long ; their

blood thinks scorn,
Till it fly out and show them princes born.

[Exeunt.

.ACT V.

SCENE I. Britain. The Roman camp.

Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief.

Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I '11 keep thee, for I

wish'd
Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married

ones,
If each of you should take this course, how

many

Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little ! O Pisanio !
Every good servant does not all commands :
No bond but to do just ones. Gods ! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had lived to put on this : so had you saved
The noble Imogen to repent, and struck 10

50. Have -with you, take me tion of Ff / am wish'd.
with you. 9. to put on this, to instigate

i. I wish'd; Rowe'semenda- to Imogen's death.

226

sc. i Cymbeline

Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But,

alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults ; that 's

love,

To have them fall no more : you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift.
But Imogen is your~own : do your best wills,
And make me blest to obey ! I am brought hither
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom : 'tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress ; peace !
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good

heavens,

Hear patiently my purpose : I '11 disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant : so I '11 fight
Against the part I come with ; so I '11 die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is every breath a death ; and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I '11 dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than rny habits show.
Gods, put the strength o' the Leonati in me !
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion, less without and more within. i^jExtf.

14. second, follow up. 15. make them dread it, to

ib. each elder, each successive the doers' thrift, make the doers

one (the advancing years of the fear the final Nemesis to their

' doer ' being attributed to his own advantage, by causing them

' deeds '). to repent in time.

227

Cymbeline ACT v

SCENE II. Field of battle between the British
and Roman camps.

Enter, from one side, Lucius, IACHIMO, and
* the Roman Armv : from the other side, the

%* • w* A*> ^

, -•British Army; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS fol-
lowing, like a poor soldier. They march over
and go out. Then enter again, in skirmish,
IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS : he vanquisheth
and disarmeth IACHIMO, and then leaves him.

lack. The heaviness and guilt within my

bosom

Takes off my manhood : I have belied a lady,
The princess of this country, and the air on 't
Revengingly enfeebles me ; or could this carl,
A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me
In my profession ? Knighthoods and honours,

borne

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men and you are gods.

[Exit.

* i

The battle continues ; the Britons fly ; CYMBE
LINE is taken : then enter, to his rescue,
BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and AKVIRAGUS.

Bel. Stand, stand ! We have the advantage

of the ground :

The lane is guarded : nothing routs us but
The villany of our fears.

. ' \ Stand, stand, and fight !

4. carl, churl. 12. lane, narrow defile.

228

. - t* .-• • , .

^ sc, in '. •„ Cymbeline

Re-enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons :
they rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then
re-enter Lucius, and IACHIMO, with IMOGEN.

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save

thyself;

For friends kill friends, and the disorder 's such
As war were hoodwink'd.

lack. Tis their fresh supplies.

Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely : or betimes
Let 's re-inforce, or fly. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Another part of the field.

Enter POSTHUMUS and a British Lord.

Lord. Camest thou from where they made the
stand ?

Post. I did :

Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.

Lord. I did.

Post. No blame be to you, sir ; for all was lost,
But that the heavens fought : the king himself
Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a strait lane ; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
More plentiful than tools to do 't, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling 10
Merely through fear; that the strait pass was

durnm'd

With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthen'd shame.

8. Lolling the tongue ; a rpark of bloodthirstiness in wild beasts.
'•• ^< *229, % <«. »»\ * ,«*<

' . V -Y • V*. JK)

Where was this lane ?
Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd

with turf;

Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
An honest one, I warrant ; who deserved
So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
In doing this for 's country : athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings — lads more like to run
The country base than to commit such slaughter ; 20
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cased, or shame, —
Made good the passage ; cried to those that fled,
' Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men :
To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand ;
Or we are Romans and will give you that
Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may

save,
But to look back in frown : stand, stand.' These

three,

Three thousand confident, in act as many —
For three performers are the file when all 3o

The rest do nothing — with this word ' Stand,

stand,'

Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, which could have

turn'd

A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks,
Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some,

turn'd coward

20. The country tase, the 30. the file, the whole force,
game of prisoner's base charming, prevailing as

22 .those, le. ladies faces, b/a charm.
masked for the sake of their
complexion or to avoid exposure. 34. gilded, flushed. The

27. beastly, beastlike. word was idiomatically used for

28. But to look, merely by 'to make red,' especially with
looking. blood or wine.

sc. in Cymbeline

But by example — O, a sin in war,

Damn'd in the first beginners ! — gan to look

The way that they did, and to grin like lions

Upon the pikes o' the hunters. Then began

A stop i' the chaser, a retire, anon 40

A rout, confusion thick ; forthwith they fly

Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles;

slaves,
The strides they victors made : and now our

cowards,

Like fragments in hard voyages^ became
The life o' the need : having found the back-door

open
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they

wound !

Some slain before ; some dying ; some their friends
O'er-borne i' the former wave : ten, chased by one,
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty :
Those that would die or ere resist are grown 50

The mortal bugs o' the field.

Lord. This was strange chance :

A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys.

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it : you are made
Rather to wonder at the things you hear
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon 't,
And vent it for a mockery ? Here is one :
' Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane.'
Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.

43. they; Theobald's excellent preserved us in the emergency,
correction of Ff the. The bold 51. mortal bu^s, deadly
use of apposition is one of the terrors.

marks of Shakespeare's latest 53. Nay, do not wonder at it:

style. you are made, etc. , i. e. the deed

44. fragments, remnants of was only wonderful in the
food. eyes of weaklings who could do

44. became the life o the ncr.d, nothing but wonder.

23I

Cymbeline

ACT V

Post. 'Lack, to what end?

Who dares not stand his foe, I '11 be his friend ; 60
For if he '11 do as he is made to do,
I know he '11 quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.

Lord. Farewell ; you 're angry.

Post. Still going? [Exit Lord.} This is a

lord ! O noble misery,

To be i' the field, and ask ' what news ? ' of me !
To-day how many would have given their honours
To have saved their carcases ! took heel to do 't,
And yet died too ! I, in mine own woe charm'd,
Could not find death where I did hear him groan,
Nor feel him where he struck : being an ugly

monster, 70

'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words ; or hath more ministers than we
That draw his knives i' the war. Well, I will find

him :

For being now a favourer to the Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resumed again
The part I came in : fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
Here made by the Roman ; great the answer be
Britons must take. For me, my ransom 's death ; So
On either side I come to spend my breath ;
Which neither here I '11 keep nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Enter two British Captains and Soldiers.

First Cap. Great Jupiter be praised ! Lucius

is taken.
Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.

75. No more a Briton; i.e. at heart, resumes the Roman side,
Posthumus, though still a Briton and perhaps the Roman dress.

232

sc. iv Cymbeline

Sec. Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly

habit,
That gave the affront with them.

first Cap. So 'tis reported :

But none of 'em can be found. Stand ! who 's

there ?

Post. A Roman,

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds 9o
Had answer'd him.

Sec. Cap. Lay hands on him ; a dog !

A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
What crows have peck'd them here. He brags ^

his service
As if he were of note : bring him to the king.

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, AR-
VIRAGUS, PISANIO, Soldiers, Attendants, and
Roman Captives. The Captains present POST-
HUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over
to a Gaoler : then exeunt omnes.

SCENE IV. A British prison.

Enter POSTHUMUS and two Gaolers

First Gaol. You shall not now be stol'n, you

have locks upon you ;
So graze as you find pasture.

Sec. Gaol. Ay, or a stomach.

[Exeunt Gaolers.
Post. Most welcome, bondage ! for thou art

a way,
I think, to liberty : yet am I better

86. silly, simple, mean. as boldly as he led.

i. locks, (with a quibble) those

90. if seconds had answer d attaching the feet of horses
him, if he had been followed up turned loose in pasture.

233

> - -

Cymbeline ACT v

Than one that 's sick o' the gout ; since he had

rather

Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
By the sure physician, death, who is the key
To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art

fetter'd
More than my shanks and wrists : you good gods,

give me

The penitent instrument to pick that bolt, 10

Then, free for ever ! Is 't enough I am sorry ?
So children temporal fathers do appease ;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent ?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desired more than constrain'd : to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me than my all.
I know you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again 20

On their abatement : that 's not my desire :
For Imogen's dear life take mine ; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life ; you coin'd it :
'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp ;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake :
You rather mine, being yours: and so, great powers,

10. The penitent instrument my all has caused difficulty ; but

to pick that bolt, the means of for Posthumus it would have

freeing his conscience, by atone- been harder to ' repent ' in gyves

ment, from the yoke of guilt. than to ' satisfy ' by death.

15. to satisfy, to make atone- 21. their abatement, the pro-
ment for his guilt (as distin- portion of the debt which they
guished from merely repenting do not take.

it). 24. 'Tween man and man,

16, 17. ' If such atonement is etc., in common traffic not every
the condition of my regaining coin is weighed.

freedom of conscience, then be 26. You rather mine, being

so merciful as to let rne make it yours, you may the rather accept

by giving all I have, i.e. my my life since you 'coin'd it'

life.' No stricter render than yourselves.

234

sc. iv Cymbeline

If you will take this audit, take this life,

And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen !

I '11 speak to thee in silence. [Sleeps.

Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition,
SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus, an
old man, attired like a warrior ; leading in
his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and
mother to Posthumus, with music before them :
then, after other music, follow the two young
LEONATI, brothers to Posthumus, with wounds
as they died in the wars. They circle POST
HUMUS round, as he lies sleeping.

Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show 30

Thy spite on mortal flies :
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

That thy adulteries

Rates and revenges.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,

Whose face I never saw ?
I died whilst in the womb he stay'd

Attending nature's law :
Whose father then, as men report

Thou orphans' father art, 4o

Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him

From this earth-vexing smart.

Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,

But took me in my throes ;
That from me was Posthumus ript,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity !

27. take this audit, accept the fetters about his conscience,
this statement of accounts. 43. Lucina, the goddess of

28. cancel these cold bonds, childbirth.

235

Cymbeline ACT v

Sia. Great nature, like his ancestry,

Moulded the stuff so fair,
That he deserved the praise o' the world, 50
As great Sicilius' heir.

First Bro. When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he
That could stand up his parallel ;

Or fruitful object be
In eye of Imogen, that best
Could deem his dignity?

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,

To be exiled, and thrown
From Leonati seat, and cast 60

From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen?

Sid. Why did you suffer lachimo,

Slight thing of Italy,
To taint his nobler heart and brain

With needless jealousy ;
And to become the geek and scorn

O' th' other's villany ?

Sec. Bro. For this from stiller seats we came,

Our parents and us twain, 70

That striking in our country's cause
Fell bravely and were slain,

Our fealty and Tenantius' right
With honour to maintain.

First Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath

To Cymbeline perform'd :
Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,

Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
The graces for his merits due,

Being all to dolours turn'd ? 80

67. geek, gull, dupe. 75. hardiment, bravery.

236

sc. iv Cymbeline

Sid. Thy crystal window ope ; look out ;

No longer exercise
Upon a valiant race thy harsh
And potent injuries.

Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,

Take off his miseries.
Sid. Peep through thy marble mansion ; help J

Or we poor ghosts will cry
To the shining synod of the rest

Against thy deity. 9o

Both Bro. Help, Jupiter ; or we appeal,
And from thy justice fly.

JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sit
ting upon an eagle : he throws a thunderbolt.
The Ghosts fall on their knees.

Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low,

Offend our hearing ; hush ! How dare you

ghosts
Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know,

Sky-planted batters all rebelling coasts ?
Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest

Upon your never-withering banks of flowers :
Be not with mortal accidents opprest ;

No care of yours it is ; you know 'tis ours.
Whom best I love I cross ; to make my gift,

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content ;
Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift :

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in

Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
He shall be lord of lady Imogen,

And happier much by his affliction made.

102. delighted, delightful.
237

Cymbeline

ACT V

This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein

Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine : no

And so, away : no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.

[Ascends.

Sict. He came in thunder ; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell : the holy eagle
Stoop'd, as to foot us : his ascension is
More sweet than our blest fields : his royal bird
Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak,
As when his god is pleased.

All. Thanks, Jupiter !

Sid. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd 120
His radiant roof. Away ! and, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great behest.

[The Ghosts vanish.

Post. [ Waking} Sleep, thou hast been a grand-
sire, and begot

A father to me ; and thou hast created
A mother and two brothers : but, O scorn !
Gone ! they went hence so soon as they were

born :

And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend
On greatness' favour dream as I have done,
Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve :
Many dream not to find, neither deserve, 130

And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I,
That 'have this golden chance and know not why.
What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O

rare one !
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

116. his ascension is more 118. cloys, claws, trims.

sweet than our blest fields, he I2<^ swerve, go astray,

ascends with an odour sweeter

than that of the Elysian fields 134- fangled, bedizened,
of asphodel. gaudily arrayed.

238

sc. iv Cymbeline

Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise.

[.Reads] ' When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself
unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced
by a piece of tender air ; and when from a stately 140
cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being
dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed
to the old stock and freshly grow ; then shall
Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate
and flourish in peace and plenty.'
'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen
Tongue and brain not ; either both or nothing ;
Or senseless speaking or a speaking such
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
The action of my life is like it, which 150

I '11 keep, if but for sympathy.

Re-enter Gaolers.

First Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for
death ?

Post. Over-roasted rather ; ready long ago.

First Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir : if you
be ready for that, you are well cooked.

Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the
spectators, the dish pays thf shot.

First Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir.
But the comfort is, you shall be called to no 160
more payments, fear no more tavern-bills ; which
are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring
of mirth : you come in faint for want of meat,
depart reeling with too much drink; .sorry that

147. Tongue and brain not, stances described, with mine,

speak without any meaning. Shakespeare never uses the word

151. for sympathy, because of in the strict Greek sense, 'fellow-

the agreement in the circum- feeling.'

239

Cymbeline ACT v

you have paid too much, and sorry that you are
paid too much; purse and brain both empty;
the brain the heavier for being too light, the
purse too light, being drawn of heaviness : of
this contradiction you shall now be quit. O,
the charity of a penny cord ! it sums up thou- 170
sands in a trice : you have no true debitor and
creditor but it ; of what 's past, is, and to come,
the discharge : your neck, sir, is pen, book and
counters ; so the acquittance follows.

Post. I am merrier to die than thou art to
live.

First Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels
not the tooth-ache : but a man that were to sleep
your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed,
I think he would change places with his officer ; i80
for, look you, sir, you know not which way you
shall go.

Post, Yes, indeed do I, fellow.

First Gaol, Your death has eyes in 's head
then ; I have not seen him so pictured : you
must either be directed by some that take upon
them to know, or to take upon yourself that
which I am sure you do not know, or jump the
after inquiry on your own peril : and how you
shall speed in your journey's end, I think you '11 190
never return to tell one. '

Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want
eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such
as wink and will not use them.

First Gaol. What an infinite mock is this,
that a man should have the best use of eyes to
see the way of blindness ! I am sure hanging 's
the way of winking.

165. are paid, are punished. 188. jump, hazard.

198. -winking, closing the eyes.

240

sc. v

Cymbeline

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Knock off his manacles ; bring your
prisoner to the king. 200

Post. Thou bring'st good news ; I am called
to be made free.

First Gaol. I '11 be hang'd then.

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler;
no bolts for the dead.

\Exeunt all but the First Gaoler.

First Gaol. Unless a man would marry a
gallows and beget young gibbets, I never saw
one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are
verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a
Roman : and there be some of them too that die 210
against their wills ; so should I, if I were one.
I would we were all of one mind, and one mind
good ; O, there were desolation of gaolers and
gallowses ! I speak against my present profit,
but my wish hath a preferment in 't. [.Exit.

SCENE V. Cymbe line's tent.

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, AR-
VIRAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and At
tendants.

Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods

have made

Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked

breast

208. prone, ready, eager. wish would spoil my profits as

215. my wish hath a prefer- gaoler, but get me a better
ment in ' t, the fulfilment of my place.

VOL. IV 241 R

, » • * »

Cymbeline

ACT 7

Stepp'd before targes of proof, cannot be found :
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.

Bel. I never saw

Such noble fury in so poor a thing ;
Such precious deeds in one that promised nought
But beggary and poor looks.

Cym. No tidings of him ? J0

Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead

and living,
But no trace of him.

Cym. To my grief, I am

The heir of his reward ; [ To B.elarius, Guiderius,

and Anriragus\ which I will add
To you, the liver, heart and brain of Britain,
By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are. Report it.

Bel. Sir,

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add, we are honest.

Cym. Bow your knees.

Arise my knights o' the battle : I create you 20

Companions to our person and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.

Enter CORNELIUS and Ladies.

There 's business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans,
And not o' the court of Britain.

Cor. Hail, great king !

To sour your happiness, I must report
The queen is dead.

Cym. Who worse than a physician

5. targes of proof, shields of 14. the liver, regarded, like

tried quality. the heart, as the seat of courage.

242

sc. v

Cymbeline

Would this report become ? But I consider,
By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she ? 30

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life,
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd
I will report, so please you : these her women
Can trip me, if I err ; who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finish'd.

Cym. Prithee, say.

Cor. First, she confess'd she never loved you,

only

Affected greatness got by you, not you :
Married your royalty, was wife to your place ;
Abhorr'd your person.

Cym. She alone knew this ; 40

And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand

to love

With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight ; whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.

Cym. O most delicate fiend !

Who is 't can read a woman ? Is there more ?

Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess

she had

For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took, 50

Should by the minute feed on life and lingering
By inches waste you : in which time she pur

posed,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to

43. bore in hand to love, be- 47. delicate, fine, subtle.
guiled into the belief that she
loved her. 50. mineral, poison.

Cymbeline ACT v

O'ercome you with her show, and in time,

When she had fitted you with her craft, to work

Her son into the adoption of the crown :

But, failing of her end by his strange absence,

Grew shameless-desperate ; open'd, in despite

Of heaven and men, her purposes ; repented

The evils she hatch'd were not effected ; so 60

Despairing died.

Cym. Heard you all this, her women ?

First Lady. We did, so please your highness.

Cym. Mine eyes

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful ;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery ; nor my heart,
That thought her like her seeming ; it had been

vicious

To have mistrusted her : yet, O my daughter !
That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all !

Enter Lucius, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and
other Roman Prisoners, guarded ; POSTHUMUS
behind, and IMOGEN.

Thou comest not, Caius, now for tribute ; that

The Britons have razed out, though with the loss 70

Of many a bold one ; whose kinsmen have made

suit
That their good souls may be appeased with

slaughter

Of you their captives, which ourself have granted :
So think of your estate.

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war : the day
Was yours by accident ; had it gone with us,

55. to work her son into the 68. prove it in thy feeling,

adoption of the crown, to procure attest it by your own sufferings,
his adoption as heir. 74. estate, condition.

Cymbeline

We should not, when the blood was cool, have

threaten'd

Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be call'd ransom, let it come : sufficeth 80

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer :
Augustus lives to think on 't : and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat ; my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd : never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like : let his virtue join
With my request, which I '11 make bold your

highness

Cannot deny ; he hath done no Briton harm, 90

Though he have served a Roman : save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.

Cym. I have surely seen him :

His favour is familiar to me. Boy,
Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why, nor wherefore,
To say ' live, boy : ' ne'er thank thy master ; live :
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I '11 give it ;
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.

Imo. I humbly thank your highness. 100

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad ;
And yet I know thou wilt.

Imo, No, no : alack,

There 's other work in hand : I see a thing
Bitter to me as death : your life, good master,

83 my peculiar care, my ministering to his wants,
personal concern. 95. nor ; omitted in Ff, sup-

87. over his occasions, in plied by Rowe.

245

Cymbeline ACT

Must shuffle for itself.

Luc. The boy disdains me,

He leaves me, scorns me : briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplex'd ?

Cym. What wouldst thou, boy?

I love thee more and more : think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st

on ? speak, no

Wilt have him live ? Is he thy kin ? thy friend ?

Imo. He is a Roman ; no more kin to me
Than I to your highness ; who, being born your

vassal,
Am something nearer.

Cym. Wherefore eyest him so ?

Imo. I '11 tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.

Cym. Ay, with all my heart,

And lend my best attention. What 's thy name ?

Imo. Fidele, sir.

Cym. Thou 'rt my good youth, my page ;

I '11 be thy master : walk with me ; speak freely.

\Cymbeline and Imogen converse apart.

Bel. Is not this boy revived from death ?

Arv. One sand another 120

Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?

Gui. The same dead thing alive.

Eel. Peace, peace ! see further ; he eyes us

not ; forbear ;

Creatures may be alike : were 't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.

1 20. One sand another not dropped out : —
more resembles. Some words Not more resemues j
are perhaps lost. Walker con- Than he resembles] that sweet rosy
jectured that two half lines had lad> etc.

246

sc. v Cymbeline

Gui. But we saw him dead.

Bel. Be silent 5 let 's see further.

Pis. [Aside] It is my mistress :

Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad.

[Cymbeline and Imogen come foruiard.

Cym. Come, stand thou by our side ;

Make thy demand aloud. [To Iachimo\ Sir, step

you forth ; 130

Give answer to this boy, and do it freely ;
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to
him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.

Post. [Aside] What 's that to him ?

Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say
How came it yours ?

lack. Thou 'It torture me to leave unspoken that
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.

Cym. How ! me ? J4o

lack. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that
Which torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring : 'twas Leonatus' jewel ;
Whom thou didst banish ; and — which more may

grieve thee,

As it doth me — a nobler sir ne'er lived
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my
lord?

Cym. All that belongs to this.

lack. That paragon, thy daughter, —

For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
Quail to remember — Give me leave ; I faint.

Cym. My daughter ! what of her ? Renew thy
strength ; 150

247

Cymbeline

ACT V

I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more : strive, man, and speak.

lack. Upon a time, — unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour ! — it was in Rome, — accursed
The mansion where ! — 'twas at a feast, — O, would
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
Those which I heaved to head ! — the good Post-
humus —

What should I say? he was too good to be
Where ill men were ; and was the best of all
Amongst the rarest of good ones, — sitting sadly, 160
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak, for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature, for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye —

Cym. I stand on fire :

Come to the matter.

lack. All too soon I shall,

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Post-
humus, 170
Most like a noble lord in love and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint ;
And, not dispraising whom we praised, — therein
He was as calm as virtue — he began
His mistress' picture ; which by his tongue being

made,

And then a mind put in 't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen-trulls, or his description
Proved us unspeaking sots.

164. straight-pight, erect. 172. hint, occasion.

165. condition, mind and 178. unspeaking sots, fools
character. unable to express ourselves.

248

SC. V

Cymbeline

Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.

lack. Your daughter's chastity — there it begins.
He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, 180

And she alone were cold : whereat I, wretch,
Made scruple of his praise ; and wager'd with him
Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of 's bed and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring ;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel, and might so safely, had it 190
Been all the worth of 's car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design : well may you, sir,
Remember me at court ; where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely ; for my vantage, excellent :
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd,
That I return'd with simular proof enough 200

To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus, and thus ; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet, —

0 cunning, how I got it ! — nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,

1 having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon —
Methinks, I see him now —

Post. \_Aduancing\ Ay, so thou dost,

200. simular, plausibly 208. the forfeit, the fine paid

feigned. for breach of a ' bond ' or con-

203. averring, confirming. tract.

249

Cymbeline

ACT V

Italian fiend ! Ay me, most credulous fool, 210

Egregious murderer, thief, any thing

That 's due to all the villains past, in being,

To come ! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,

Some upright justicer ! Thou, king, send out

For torturers ingenious : it is I

That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend

By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,

That kill'd thy daughter : — villain-like, I lie —

That caused a lesser villain than myself,

A sacrilegious thief, to do 't : the temple 220

Of virtue was she ; yea, and she herself.

Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set

The dogs o' the street to bay me : every villain

Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus ; and

Be villany less than 'twas ! O Imogen !

My queen, my life, my wife ! O Imogen,

Imogen, Imogen !

Imo. Peace, my lord ; hear, hear —

Post. Shall 's have a play of this ? Thou scorn
ful page,
There lie thy part. [Striking her : sJie falls.

Pis. O, gentlemen, help !

Mine and your mistress ! O, my lord Posthumus ! 230
You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now. Help, help !
Mine honour'd lady !

Cym. Does the world go round ?

Post. How come these staggers on me ?

Pis. Wake, my mistress !

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike
me

221. she herself, i.e. virtue. the analogy of let us. It is

225. Be villany less than found six times in Shakespeare.

'twas, let villany be a term for less 'Can us,' 'may us,1 in older

heinous acts, those truly vile tak- Cockney English (Pegge,

ing their name from Posthumus. Dickens). Jespersen, Engelske

228. Shall' s, shall we ; from Casus, § 130.

SC. V

Cymbeline

To death with mortal joy.

Pis. How fares my mistress ?

Imo. O, get thee from my sight ;
Thou gavest me poison : dangerous fellow, hence !
Breathe not where princes are.

Cym. The tune of Imogen !

Pis. Lady,

The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if 240

That box I gave you was not thought by me
A precious thing : I had it from the queen.

Cym. New matter still?

Imo. It poison'd me.

Cor. O gods !

I left out one thing which the queen confess'd,
Which must approve thee honest : ' If Pisanio
Have ' said she ' given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is served
As I would serve a rat.'

Cym. WThat 's this, Cornelius ?

Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importuned me
To temper poisons for her, still pretending 250

The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
Of no esteem : I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life, but in short time
All offices of nature should again
Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it ?

Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.

Bel. My boys,

There was our error.

Gui. This is, sure, Fidele. s6o

Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady
from you ?

250. temper, mix.
251

Cymbeline

ACT V

Think that you are upon a rock ; and now
Throw me again. [Embracing him.

Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul,

Till the tree die !

Cym. How now, my flesh, my child !

What, makest thou me a dullard in this act ?
Wilt thou not speak to me ?

Imo. \Kneeling\ Your blessing, sir.

Bel. \To Guiderius and Arviragus] Though

you did love this youth, I blame ye not ;
You had a motive for 't.

Cym. My tears that fall

Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen,
Thy mother 's dead.

Imo. I am sorry for't, my lord. 270

Cym. O, she was naught ; and long of her it was
That we meet here so strangely : but her son
Is gone, we know not how nor where.

Pis. My lord,

Now fear is from me, I '11 speak troth. Lord

Cloten,

Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawn ; foam'd at the mouth, and

swore,

If I discovered not which way she was gone,
It was my instant death. By accident,
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket ; which directed him 280

To seek her on the mountains near to Milford ;
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he enforced from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose and with oath to violate
My lady's honour : what became of him

262 upon a rock, i.e. ' as a So klammert sich der Schiffer end-
shipwreck'd sailor.' Cf. the ^J&STL.
close of Goethe's Tasso : —

271. long of her, by her doing.

252

SC. V

Cymbeline

I further know not.

Gui. Let me end the story :

I slew him there.

Cym. Marry, the gods forfend !

I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence : prithee, valiant youth,
Deny 't again.

Gui. I have spoke it, and I did it. 290

Cym. He was a prince.

Gui. A most incivil one : the wrongs he did me
Were nothing prince-like ; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea,
If it could so roar to me : I cut off's head ;
And am right glad he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.

Cym. I am sorry for thee :

By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and

must
Endure our law : thou 'rt dead.

Imo. That headless man

I thought had been my lord.

Cym. Bind the offender, 3oo

And take him from our presence.

Bel. Stay, sir king :

This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself; and hath
More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for. \To the Guard\ Let his arms

alone ;
They were not born for bondage.

Cym. Why, old soldier,

Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath ? How of descent
As good as we ?

, 292. incivil, clownish.

305. Had ever scar for, ever deserved by their wounds.

253

Cymbeline

Arv. In that he spake too far.

Cym. And thou shalt die for 't.

BeL We will die all three : 3io

But I will prove that two on 's are as good
As I have given out him. My sons, I must
For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.

Arv. Your danger 's ours.

Gui. And our good his.

BeL Have at it then, by leave.

Thou hadst, great king, a subject who
Was -call'd Belarius.

Cym. What of him ? he is

A banish'd traitor.

BeL He it is that hath

Assumed this age ; indeed a banish'd man ;
I know not how a traitor.

Cym. Take him hence : 320

The whole world shall not save him.

BeL Not too hot :

First pay me for the nursing of thy sons ;
And let it be confiscate all, so soon
As I have received it.

Cym. Nursing of my sons !

BeL I am too blunt and saucy : here 's my

knee :

Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons ;
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen, that call me father
And think they are my sons, are none of mine ;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege, 330

And blood of your begetting.

Cym. How ! my issue !

313. For mine own part . . . 319. Assumed this agf, be-

dangerous, dangerous as regards come the old mail y°u see.
myself.

254

SC. V

Cymbeline

Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old

Morgan,

Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd :
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punish- «<

ment

Itself, and all my treason ; that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes —
For such and so they are — these twenty years
Have I train'd up : those arts they have as I
Could put into them ; my breeding was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, 340
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment : I moved her to 't,
Having received the punishment before,
For that which I did then : beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason : their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again ; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heavens 350

Fall on their heads like dew ! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st.

The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children :
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.

Bel. Be pleased awhile.

This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius :
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
Your younger princely son ; he, sir, was lapp'd 36o
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand

338. those . . . as, such ... as. 354. Unlike, unlikely.

346. shaped unto, fell in with. 361. curious, elaborate.

255

Cymbeline ACT v

Of his queen mother, which for more probation
I can with ease produce.

Cym. Guiderius had

Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star ;
It was a mark of wonder.

Bel. This is he ;

Who hath upon him still that natural stamp :
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym. O, what, am I

A mother to the birth of three ? Ne'er mother
Rejoiced deliverance more. Blest pray you be, 370
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now ! O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.

Into. No, my lord ;

I have got two worlds by 't. O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met ? O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker : you call d me brother,
When I was but your sister ; I you brothers,
When ye were so indeed.

Cym. Did you e'er meet ?

Arv. Ay, my good lord.

GUI. And at first meeting loved ;

Continued so, until we thought he died. 380

Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd.

Cym. O rare instinct !

When shall I hear all through ? This fierce

abridgement

Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in. Where ? how lived
you?

382. fierce abridgement, hur- -which distinction should be rich
ried summary. in, separate narratives which

ought to be followed out in all

383. circumstantial branches, their rich detail.

256 .

SC. V

Cymbeline

And when came you to serve our Roman captive ?
How parted with your brothers ? how first met

them ?
Why fled you from the court ? and whither ?

These,

And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded ;
And all the other by-dependencies, 39o

From chance to chance : but nor the time nor

place

Will serve our long inter'gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen,
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy : the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
\To Belarius\ Thou art my brother; so we'll hold

thee ever.
Imo. You are my father too, and did relieve

me, 400

To see this gracious season.

Cym. All o'erjoy'd,

Save these in bonds : let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

Imo. My good master,

I will yet do you service.

Luc. Happy be you !

Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becomed this place, and

graced
The thankings of a king.

388. your three motives, the 392. inter'gatories, Tyrwhitt s

motives of you three. conjecture for Ff interrogatories.

390. by - dependencies, acces- 396- the counterchange, the

sory circumstances. look returning hers.

VOL. IV 257 S

Cymbeline

ACT V

Post. I am, sir,

The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming ; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he, 4io
Speak, lachimo : I had you down and might
Have made you finish.

lack. \Kneeling\ I am down again :

But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech

you,

Which I so often owe : but your ring first ;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.

Post. Kneel not to me :

The power that I have on you is to spare you ;
The malice towards you to forgive you : live,
And deal with others better.

Cym. Nobly doom'd ! 420

We '11 learn our freeness of a son-in-law ;
Pardon 's the word to all.

Arv. You holp us, sir,

As you did mean indeed to be our brother ;
Joy'd are we that you are.

Post. Your servant, princes. Good my lord

of Rome,

Call forth your soothsayer : as I slept, methought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred : when I waked, I found
This label on my bosom ; whose containing 430

Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it : let him show

409. fitment, proper equip- 430. containing, contents,

ment. 431- from sense, beyond com-

4I3. sinks, makes sink. prehension.

432. Make no collection of it,
422. holp, helped. draw no inference from it.

258

sc. v Cymbeline

His skill in the construction.

Luc. Philarmonus !

Sooth. Here, my good lord.

Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.

Sooth. \Reads\ 'When as a lion's whelp shall,
to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be
embraced by a piece of tender air ; and when
from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches,
which, being dead many years, shall after revive,
be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow ; 440
then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be
fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty.'
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp ;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
\To Cymbeline] The piece of tender air, thy

virtuous daughter,

Which we call ' mollis aer ; ' and ' mollis aer '
We term it 'mulier:' which 'mulier' I divine
Is this most constant wife ; who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle, 4So

Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.

Cym. This hath some seeming.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee : and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth ; who, by Belarius stol'n,
For many years thought dead, are now revived,
To the majestic cedar join'd, whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.

Cym. Well ;

My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar, <6o

433. construction, interpre- There is clearly some corruption,
tation. For this Capell proposed thy,

449. who, i.e. Posthumus. Delius your.

Cymbeline ACT v

And to the Roman empire ; promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen ;
Whom heavens, in justice, both on her and hers,
Have laid most heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd ; for the Roman eagle, 470

From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
So vanish'd : which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
The imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

Cym. Laud we the gods ;

And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward : let
A Roman and a British ensign wave 480

Friendly together : so through Lud's-town march :
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we '11 ratify ; seal it with feasts.
Set on there ! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace.

\Exeunt.

260

THE WINTER'S TALE

261

Four Lords of Sicilia

DRAMATIS PERSONS

LEONTES, king of Sicilia.

MAMILLIUS, young prince of Sicilia.

CAMILLO, ~\

ANTIGONUS, \

CLEOMENES, j

DION, j

POLIXENES, king of Bohemia.

FLORIZEL, prince of Bohemia.

ARCHIDAMUS, a Lord of Bohemia.

Old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita.

Clown, his son.

AUTOLYCUS, a rogue.

A Mariner.

A Gaoler.

HERMIONE, queen to Leontes.
PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
. PAULINA, wife to Antigonus.

EMILIA, a lady attending on Hermione.

MOPSA, ^ c,

DORCAS, ) Shepherdesses.

Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and Servants,
Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.

Time, as Chorus.
SCENE : Sicilia, and Bohemia.

DURATION OF TIME

The time comprises eight days represented on the stage,
with intervals.

Day i. I. i., 2
,, 2. II. i.

An interval of twenty-three days.
„ 3. II. 2., 3. ; III. i.
,, 4. III. 2.

An interval. Antigonus' voyage.

., s- in. s-

An interval (IV. I.) of sixteen years.
,, 6. IV. 2., 3.
„ 7- IV. 4.

An interval. Journey to Sicilia.
„ 8. V. i. -3.

262

INTRODUCTION

THE WINTER'S TALE was first published in the col
lected edition of Shakespeare's plays, 1623, where it
closes the series of Comedies. It is printed with
relative accuracy, furnished with a list of dramatis
personae at the end, and divided into scenes as well
as acts.

The date of The Winters Tale can be determined
within narrow limits. There is little doubt that
Shakespeare put the last strokes to his manuscript
some time between September 1610 and May 1611.
On 1 5th May in the latter year the play was per
formed at the Globe, and it had previously been
' allowed ' by the Master of the Revels, Sir George
Buck, who had succeeded to that office in October
I6I0.1 The Globe performance is known to us from/
a description of it left by the notorious astrologer,
Dr. Simon Forman, which makes it clear that the
play, whether new or otherwise, was new to him.2

1 This important piece of
evidence is derived from Buck's
successor, Sir Henry Herbert,
who on igth August 1623 made
the following entry in his office-
book : ' For the king's players.
An olde playe called Winters
Tale, formerly allowed of by
Sir George Bucke and likewyse
by mee on Mr. Hemminges his
worde that there was nothing

prophane added or reformed,
though the allowed book was
missing.'

2 No inference either way as
to the novelty of the play ran
be drawn from these ' notes,'
since Forman describes Macbeth
(aoth April 1610) and the old
Richard II. (3Oth April 1611)
with the same naive particu
larity.

263

The Winter's Tale

On the following 5th November it was performed
before the Court, at Whitehall, by Shakespeare's
company.1

The internal evidence entirely confirms the pre
sumption that The Winters Tale was, in fact, new
when it was ' allowed,' and that it was therefore
written either in 1610 or in the early months of
1611. Its qualities of form connect it altogether
with the group of 'Romances.' Hardly anywhere
is the subtle rhythmic instinct of Shakespeare's later
maturity, which disintegrates the line in order to
build up a richer music in the paragraph, so perfectly
shown as in half-a-dozen speeches of Florizel and
Perdita. ' Light ' and ' weak ' endings abound, and
rhyme, except in the songs, is completely absent.
It shares with Cymbeline, Pericles, and Henry VIII.
the tragedy of slandered womanhood ; with Cymbeline,
Pericles, and The Tempest, the tender glow suffused
over the reunion of lost kindred ; with Cymbeline and
The Tempest, the final forgiveness of the evil-doers,
and the delight in portraying the untaught children
of nature ; with Cymbeline, the carelessness in smaller
points of dramatic technique, the easy mastery of what
is great, the Marten-like motif and treatment, and
the seemingly capricious disarray of place and time.

The Winter's Tale was founded upon Robert
Greene's romance Pandosto ; a work very famous
in its day, for it went through fourteen edilions,
and was dramatised in France and Holland 2 when
The Winter's Tale was still completely unknown
in either. It was first published in 1588, with the

1 This is known from the 2 Jean Puget de la Serre's
entry recorded by the same Sir Pandoste, ou la Princesse mal-
George Buck under this date: heureuse, 1631, and Voskuyl's
A play called the Winters Dorastus en Fauniaas, Amster-
Nightes Tayle. dam, 1637 (Bolte, Shakspere

Jahrbuch, xxvi. 90).
264

Introduction x**

title : ' Pandosto, The Triumph of Time. Wherein is M
Discovered by a pleasant Historic, that although by '
the meanes of sinister fortune, Truth may be con-
cealed, yet by Time in spight of fortune it is most
manifestly revealed. Pleasant for age to avoyde
drowsie thoughts, profitable for youth to eschue
other wanton pastimes, and bringing to both a de-
sired content. Temporis filia veritas. By Robert
Greene, Maister of Artes in Cambridge. Omne tulit
punctum qui miscuit utile diilci.' In the numerous
subsequent editions the title Pandosto was replaced
by Dorastus and Fawnia.

The germ of the romance was probably an actual
'incident in the fourteenth-century annals of Poland
and Bohemia?1 A king, Siemowitsch, conceived sus-
picions of his wife, a lady of the Bohemian court,
threw her into prison, where she bore a son, then
caused her to be strangled, and the child sent away.
The child was finally restored to Siemowitsch, who
died, deeply repentant, in 1381 — the year in which
Anne of Bohemia, a kinswoman of the murdered
wife, gave her hand to Richard II. The lively inter
course with Bohemia which ensued upon that marriage
may well have .set the tradition of this bit of criminal
history afloat in England. That such a tradition did
exist is made probable by the undoubted survival
of another fragment from the same source in The
Tempest. A faint trace of the, original locality
perhaps survives in Greene's[ Bohemian king and
court. But his execution, was evidently controlled
by the purest spirit of romance^ according to the
Siidneian and Lylyan model fashionable in 1588.
The Arcadia served as model for the ^matter, the

1 Cf. Caro's article in Rng- Winter's Tale and The Tempest,'
Use he Sludien, 1878 ; and 1885.
Boyle's ' Shakespeare's The

265

AJClIUIJit \\\ 1

i to show howj
'I intertainmentv
1 ance bewraied

t The Winter's Tale

, I Eu^hues for the speech. In the tragic story he
framed a pastoral idyll, even outbidding Sidney's
».*»*.". pseudo-classic mise-en-scene by permitting his injured
Bohemian queen to appeal, with success, to the
oracle of Delphi ; while the personages throughout
express their passions and their hesitancies with an
' oppressive appetency, like Lyly's, for the symmetries
of speech and the analogies of nature. His story is
briefly this : Pandosto, king of Bohemia, conceives
suspicions against his wife Eellaria and his guest
Egistus, king of Sicily ; their imprudent familiarity
and real attachment give some colour to his doubt.

Beliaria (who in her time was the flower of curtesie) willing
show how_unfaynedly shee loved her husband by his friends
"him likewise so familiarly that her counter^
how her minde was affected towardes him ; often
times comming her selfe into his bed chamber, to see that
nothing should be amis to mislike him. This honest familiarity
increased dayly more and more betwixt them ; for Bellaria,
noting in Egistus a princely and bountifull mind, adorned with
sundrie and excellent qualities, and Egistus, finding in her a
vertuous and curteous disposition, there grew such a secret
uniting of their affections, that the one could not well be
without the other (Hazlitt-Collier, ShaksperJs Library, iv. 25).

Pandosto, after long deliberation, instructs ft is cup
bearer, Fran ion, to poison Egistus, who, warned by
Franion, hastily maYes his escape to his own country.
Furious at losing his prey, and not venturing openly
to attack Egistufi. who had ' married the Emperours
daughter of Russia.' Pandosto throws "Bellaria into
pjison. There, after several months, she bears a
Child, which Pandosto causes to be cast adrift in an
open boat, while she herself is brought to trial for
her life. All her pleading proving vain,

She fell downe upon her knees, and desired the king that . . .
hee would graunt her a request ; which was this, that it would
please his majestie to send sixe of his noble men whome he
266

Introduction

best trusted to the Isle of Delphos, there to inquire of the
oracle of Apollo whether she had committed adultery with
'Egistus, or conspired to poyson him with Franion ; and if the
god Apollo, who by his devine essence knew al secrets, gave
answere that she was guiltie, she were content to suffer any
torment were it never so terrible. The request was so reason
able that Pandosto could not for fame deny it, unless he would
bee counted of all his subjects more wilfull than wise-

The oracle is brought, and its contents, acquitting
Bellaria^penlv read ; whereupon Pandosto forthwith
repents, seeks his wife's pardon, and promises to
reconcile himself also with Egistus and Franion.
But it is too late. News is brought of the sudden
death of bis son Garinte.s ; whereupon Bellaria, over
powered by the reaction from joy to grief, ' fell down
presently dead.' In the jneantime^the^babe, in its
open boat, after tossing for two days in storm, had
been driven on to the shore of JSjcilx. fJ '.here it is
discovered hy t.hp r>](\ shepherd. Porrus, who brings
the child UQ. At a 'meeting of all the farmers'
daughters in Sicilia ' Fawnia encounters Dorastus,
the son of Egistus. Their love is described not
without charm. Fearing her betrayal, Porrus and'
his wife plot to inform the king. Dorastus forestalls
him, however, by secretly, embarking with Fawnia: .
and his servant Capnio, meeting Porrus on his way
to the palace, forces liim~on board the same ship.
A storm drives "them upon the coast of Bohemia.
Brought before Pandosto, Dorastus represents himself
as a knight, one Meleagrus, and Fawnia as an Italian
lady, betrothed to him. But Pandosto is captivated
by her beauty, thrusts Dorastus into prison, and
openly wooes her. At length Egistus learns of his
son's captivity, and sends ambassadors to entreat that *
he may be released, and Fawnia, Porrus, and Capnio •
put to death. The sentence is already pronounced [
when Porrus, disburdening his conscience before his ^
267

The Winter's Tale

end, relates his discovery of Fawnia, and displays the
jewels found with her. Joyful reconciliation follows, and,
Porrus' of a shepherd is made a knight ' ; but Pandosto,
calling to mind his many errors, falls into a melancholy
fit, and 'to close up the Comedie,' as Greene puts it,
with a 'tragical! stratagem,' puts an end to his life.

Such a subject offered still graver difficulties to ihe
dramatist than did Lodge's kindred romance fiosa-
fynde, which had been transformed, a decade before,
into As You Like It. There also, a pa'sfwal idyll
had been grafted upon a tale of tragic feud. But
Lodge had not, like Greene, followed the licence of
the older romantic dramas denounced by Sidney,
where, within the limits of five acts, children were*
followed from the cradle to the altar and beyond.
It is clear, too, "that the significance and beauty of
the* earlier romance lay for Shakespeare altogether in
the Ardeh scenes, so that the early history of Orlando,
voluminously recorded by Lodge, could be treated as
a mere prelude — a blaze of martial trumpets heralding
a pastoral symphony. It is equally clear that in
Pandosto he was arrested by the tragic story of fatuity
and retribution even more than by the idyll of rustic
love. Frederick and Oliver are capriciously cruel
and capriciously repentant, like I.eontes. But their
cruelty and their repentance are little more than
theatrical devices which open the charmed gates of
Arden to the wooing lovers and restore them to the
brilliant court when won. The cruelty of Leontes
and his repentance, the sufferings of Hermione, the
intervention of Paulina, are drawn with a feeling for
ethical chiaroscuro of which in As You Like It there
is hardly a trace. And the idyll of Perdita owes
much of its subtler charm, when compared with that
of Rosalind, to our perception that it is an element
in the harmonious solution of a longer story
268

Introduction

Hence the action of The Winter's Tale falls into
two sharply-marked phases, each occupying almost
exactly half the play (acts i.-iii., iv.-v.) — a 'wasp-like'
structure nowhere else in Shakespeare approached.
The drama owes its beautiful harmony of effect very
little to mechanical coherence of plot. Accidents of
wind and wave, fortunate discovery and miraculous
secrecy, play an even larger part than in the Romance.
The bear which devours Antigonus after he has
exposed the babe is a less poetic and certainly not a
more dramatic expedient for securing her fate from
her father's knowledge, than Greene's open boat.
The sixteen years' concealment of Hermione, and
the supposed sixteen years' concealment of Giulio
Romano's statue of her, are short cuts to the superb**
final scene which nothing but their daring simplicity •
recommends.

For such seeming licences Shakespeare has hinted
a justification in the title ; and three other passages
(in v. 2.) carry the hint home. 'This news, which is
called true, is so like an old tale, that the verity of it
is in strong suspicion,' says the Second Gentleman,
and as each new marvel is rehearsed, the verdict is
'like an old tale still.' It is plain that Shakespeare
did not attempt to efface the marks of the ' old tale '
in his materials ; at certain points he even heightens
them. He repeats with perfect gravity Greene's
geographical and historical eccentricities, and caps
the oracle of Delphos and the coast of Bohemia
with a sculptor, Giulio Romano.

Nearly all the characters are touched with the
caprice, the sudden impulses, the rapid changes, of
romance ; and what is more, Shakespeare, in drawing
them, seems at times to forego his profound art of
disclosing the psychical past and future of his persons
in a few touches, and to reveal only the momentary
269

The Winter's Tale

mood. Leontes is, even at the close, not so much a
character as a series of moods, each as luminous as
the pieces in a kaleidoscope, and as incoherent. The
very nobility of Hermione makes his caprice more
extravagant than Pandosto's. Jealousy takes posses
sion of him like a sudden blast, and leaves him as
suddenly.1 Polixenes is a far loftier and stabler
nature, but the outburst which shatters the idyll of
the fourth act is as unforeseen as that by which
Leontes shatters the harmonious friendship of the
first.

The Shakespearean quality of the play centres
? chiefly in four characters. Two of them are already
adumbrated in Greene ; two are wholly original.

T In Perdita and her little pastoral world, we have
.1. I Shakespeare's last and most beautiful rendering of

jthe motifs of pastoral poetry. Sicilia is not, like
Arden, a meeting-place of piquant incongruities
where the shepherd to the manner born is set off by
the courtier posing as shepherd, and both by the
conventional shepherd of literature. All three types
are indeed present, but their divergences are not
humorously exposed and exhibited, but subdued
into modulations of a rich harmony, the ground-tone
of which is drawn from the actual life of English
shepherd folk in their blithest mood. Here Florizel
mingles and here Perdita grows up. They speak the
same choice and beautiful language, as little coloured,
in his case, by the dialect of courtly and literary
pastoralism, as, in hers, by rustic rudeness, but em
bodying in its noble simplicity, in its blending of

1 One degree less suddenly, The sessions shall proceed,

however, than Pandosto, who Thfin CQmes {he newg of M&_

acquiesces instantly on hearing mil]ius, death> and he -s broken .
the oracle. Leontes has a

moment of rebellion : AP°"° >s *"%*? '• and the *•»»»

themselves
There is no truth at all i' the oracle : Do strike at my injustice.

270

Introduction

high-bred delicacy and wild untaught charm, the
inmost impulses from which all true pastoral has
sprung.

Perdita is foreshadowed in Fawnia, but Greene has
no hint of Autolycus. This last and not least de
lightful of Shakespeare's jesters is, like Perdita and
Florizel, conceived with the finest congruity to his
surroundings. Instead of being a court-jester adrift,
like Touchstone, he is the embodiment of rustic
knavery, shrewdness and gaiety, — a frequenter of
wakes, fairs, bear-baiting and country feasts. Touch
stone adds flavour to the atmosphere of Arden, but
contributes almost nothing to the plot. Autolycus
is not only the source of almost all the humour in the
play, his interventions repeatedly give the action the
needful lucky turn. He secures Florizel's escape*
nnd prevents Polixenes from learning it. He is
called, he tells us, after the fabled son of Mercury,
of whom Shakespeare read in Ovid (Afetam. ix. 313 f.) ,
that he had all his father's cunning; and the incensed*
Apollo of the Leontes story has a comic counterpart
in the Autolycus-Mercury of the Pastoral.

But Shakespeare's most remarkable modification
of Greene's work is in the story of Hermione.
Greene's Bellaria, as has been seen, gave some pre
text for her husband's suspicions ; those of Leontes
are forged out of the ordinary courtesies of Eliza
bethan hospitality,1 the noble frankness of a woman for
whom disloyalty is inconceivable. Bellaria's protest
on meeting the charge is not without nobility ; but
she protests too much, and at the subsequent trial
condescends to beg that the evidence of her guilt

1 The ceremonial kiss between mus regarded it as one of the

guest and hostess, invariable in many advantages of English

the courtly society of the middle hospitality, and it is repeatedly

age.-,, lingered longer in England implied by Shakespeare,
than on the Continent. Eras-

271

The Winter's Tale

may be produced and Apollo's oracle consulted.
Shakespeare has not attempted thus to heighten the
pathos of Hermione at the cost of her dignity ; the
appeal to Delphi is due to Leontes' weary conscience,
not to her entreaty, and her final swoon at Mamillius'
death is pathetic in proportion to her previous self-
control.

Such an end to her story, however, would have
been quite out of keeping with the manner in which
it has so far been told. Leontes' fury seems to
promise tragedy enough, but it is exhibited under con
ditions which hint that the promise will not be finally
kept. He is an isolated madman, with no lago or
lachimo at his elbow to turn his weak moments to
evil account ; no rotten society about him to warp
,or poison his better self. On the contrary, his whole
entourage seems designed (quite contrary to Shake
speare's wont in drawing courts) to expose his morbid
infatuation to a continual corrective of good feeling
and good sense. He himself cannot bear the im
putation of tyranny, and quails before the vehemence
of Paulina. He is not of the stuff of which Shake
speare makes tragic heroes, or for whom he provides
a pitiless Nemesis. Hermione, then, had to live.
Her secret concealment recalls that of Hero in Much
Ado. It is not known whence Shakespeare took
the beautiful device of her discovery. A. v. Schack
pointed out a parallel in Lope's El Mdrmol de Feli-
sardo ; but it consists merely in the stratagem of a
young lover who carries his point by procuring his
father's permission to be wedded to a ' marble statue.'
A closer and very interesting parallel has lately been
pointed out by J. Bolte in the Dutch drama of
Aldnea, or Steadfast Chastity, by Hendrike de Graeff,
167 1.1 But this may very well be, like several earlier

1 Bolte, vn.Jahrbuch.der Sh. Gesellschaft, xxvi. 87.
272

Introduction

Dutch dramas, an imitation of The Winter's Tale,
and in any case gives no clue to its source. It is
briefly noticed in the next section.

The resemblance in "the entire situation to the
climax of Euripides' Alcestis is very striking, even in
some slight details. In both, as has been well
noticed, the injured wife does not speak to her
husband. Hermione's few words of exquisite ten
derness are bestowed upon Perdita, almost the only
words in Shakespeare which render the deep and
tender relation between mother and daughter. That
he knew Euripides' play itself is an untenable view,
but he may well have known the story.

This solution of Hermione's fate perhaps suggested
the admirable figure of its contriver and executant,
Paulina. The overmastering energy of goodness is
embodied in her, as prudence and craft in Camillo ;
and these two play the chief part in guiding the
action to its benign end. Camillo furthers the for
tunes first of Polixenes, then of Florizel ; Paulina is a
rough-tongued conscience to Leontes, whose constant
presence, as Mr. Watkiss Lloyd has finely said, is
necessary to make it intelligible ' how such a mind as
that of Leontes could have the force and freshness of
feeling, after sixteen years elapsed, that are required
to give interest to the recognition, and to satisfy our
sympathies with the honour of Hermione.'

The Winter's Tale seems to have at once estab
lished itself in the favour of the London public, and
particularly of the Court. Played at Whitehall in
November 1611, it was one of the Shakespearean
plays chosen, two years later, for performance during
the festivities of the Princess Elizabeth's marriage.1
Jonson's somewhat ill-tempered allusion in his Bar
tholomew Fair (Induction) to 'those that beget

1 Lord Treasurer Stanhope's Accounts.
VOL. IV 273 T

The Winter's Tale

Tales, Tempests, and such like drolleries,' must also
be taken as an involuntary tribute to its fame. In
1623 and in 1633 we hear of other performances
at Court, and that it was ' likt ' there ; while the
Censor's renewed 'allowance' of the play to Hem-
inge, already quoted, in August 1623, shows that it
was still in request on the popular stage. The
unhappy prominence of Bohemia and its ' sinner
king and queen ' in contemporary European politics
probably stimulated the vogue of the play at White
hall ; while the nation at large acquired a rudimentary
conception of the geographical bearings of the focus
of the war, and unlettered watermen like John
Taylor,1 as well as scholars like Jonson,2 could twit
Shakespeare with its 'sea-coast.'

To the Restoration age these Romantic eccen
tricities were naturally still less intelligible than to
his own. Dryden in his most petulant mood singled
out The Winter's Tale with Loire's Labour 's Lost and
Measure for Measure as examples of plays which
were 'either grounded on impossibilities or at least
so meanly written that the comedy neither caus'd
your mirth nor the serious parts your concernment.'3

Almost simultaneously with this disparaging dictum,
The Winter's Tale had, to all appearance, found ad
miring imitation in Holland. Hendrik de GraefPs
play Alcinea (1671) seems to combine motifs from
Cymbeline with the great recognition-scene of The
Winter s Tale. Alcinea, queen of Alba, is accused
of infidelity to her absent husband, Karismont. He

1 ' I am no sooner eased of ships be arrived there ' (Taylor,

him, but Gregorie Gandergoose, Travels to Prague in Bohemia,

an Alderman of Gotham, catches 1630).

me by the goll, demanding if - Drummond's Conversations.
Bohemia be a great Towne, and 3 Preface to The Conquest of

whether there be any meat in it, Granada, 1672 (quot. Cent, of

and whether the last fleet of Shakespeare s Praise, p. 351).

274

Introduction

sends a servant with orders to slay her. The deed
is no sooner performed than the slanderer, Klari-
meen, confesses his guilt and her innocence. The
husband, in despair, returns to offer sacrifice at his
wife's grave. Klarimeen's betrothed, Polimia, has,
however, contrived to save Alcinea, and is keeping
her in hiding as a shepherdess. Polimia causes
Alcinea to stand like a statue upon the grave. The
king kneels, and addresses her in a long impassioned
prayer. As he is about to kiss the image ' for
Alcinea,' it takes his hand and speaks. He is lost in
amazement : —

O heaven, what is this ? The image holds my hand !
Where shall I hide from shame ?

Explanations follow, and the play closes with forgive
ness of the slanderer and profuse compliments to the
steadfast chastity of the queen.1

Lastly, it is only necessary to mention the graceful
romantic drama in which Coleridge, like Graeff,
interwove the kindred motives of Cymbeline and The
Winter s Tale.

1 Bolte, in Shakspere Jahrbuch, xxvi. 87.

275

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— IN

THE WINTER'S TALE

ACT L

SCENE I. Antechamber in LEONTES' palace.

Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS.

Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit
Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my
services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have
said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and
your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the King
of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation
which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame
us we will be justified in our loves ; for indeed —

Cam. Beseech you, —

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of
my knowledge : we cannot with such magnifi
cence — in so rare — I know not what to say. We
will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses,
unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though
they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for
what 's given freely.

7. Bohemia, the King of Bohemia.
277

The Winter's Tale ACTI

Arch. Believe me, I speak as my under- 20
standing instructs me and as mine honesty puts
it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind
to Bohemia. They were trained together in
their childhoods ; and there rooted betwixt them
then such an affection, which cannot choose but
branch now. Since their more mature dignities
and royal necessities made separation of their
society, their encounters, though not personal,
have been royally attorneyed with interchange 30
of gifts, letters, loving embassies ; that they have
seemed to be together, though absent, shook
hands, as over a vast, and embraced, as it were,
from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens
continue their loves !

Arch. I think there is not in the world either
malice or matter to alter it. You have an un
speakable comfort of your young prince Mamil-
lius : it is a gentleman of the greatest promise
that ever came into my note. 40

Cam. I very well agree with you in the
hopes of him : it is a gallant child ; one that
indeed physirs the subject, makes old hearts
fresh : they that went on crutches ere he was
born desire yet their life to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to die?

Cam. Yes ; if there were no other excuse why
they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son, they would
desire to live on crutches till he had one. 50

[Exeunt.

26. which, as. 38. of, in.

33. vast, boundless sea (or 40. note, knowledge,

sea of which the bounds are 43. the subject, (collective) the
invisible). king's subjects.

278

The Winter's Tale

I"0

SCENE II. A room of s fate in the same.

U. L
Enter LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLJUS,

POLIXENES, CAMILLO, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the watery star hath
been

The shepherd's note since we have left our throne

Without a burthen : time as long again

Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks ;

And yet we should, for perpetuity,

Go hence in debt : and therefore, like a cipher,

Yet standing in rich place, I multiply

With one ' We thank you ' many thousands moe

That go before it.

Leon. Stay your thanks a while ;

And pay them when you part.

Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow. 10

I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance
Or breed upon our absence ; that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
' This is put forth too truly : ' besides, I have

stay'd
To tire your royalty.

Leon. We are tougher, brother,

Than you can put us to 't.

Pol. No longer stay.

Leon. One seven-night longer.

Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow.

2. note, observation, reckon- equivalent ' wish that they may

ing. not,' — that no sneaping winds,

12. that may blow, etc. This etc.

sentence is somewhat loosely de- 13. sneaping, nipping,

pendent upon the previous one, 14. ' This is put forth fno

— 'fears of what may chance ' truly,' this foreboding is too

being mentally repl»o*d by the well justified.

279

The Winter's Tale ACT i

Leon. We '11 part the time between 's then ;

an 4 in that
I '11 no gainsaying.

Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so.

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the

world, 20

So soon as yours could win me : so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
'Twere needful' I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward : which to hinder
Were in your love a whip to me ; my stay
To you a charge and trouble : to save both,
Farewell, our brother.

Leon. Tongue-tied our queen ? speak you.

Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace

until
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You,

sir,

Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure 30
All in Bohemia 's well ; this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim'd : say this to him,
He 's beat from his best ward.

Leon. Well said, Hermione.

Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong :
But let him say so then, and let him go ;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
We '11 thwack him hence with distaffs.
Yet of your royal presence I '11 adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I '11 give him my commission 40
To let him there a month behind the gest

18. 's, us. 41. gest(Fr. gite, ' lodging '),

33. ward, posture (in fencing). an appointed stage or resting-

39. at, in. place in a royal progress ; hence

40. commission, warrant. the time appointed for resuming

41. To let Aim, to permit him the journey.
to remain.

280

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Prefix'd for 's parting : yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady-she her lord. You '11 stay ?

Pol. No, madam.

Her. Nay, but you will?

Pol. I may not, verily.

Her. Verily !

You put me off with limber vows ; but I,
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with

oaths,

Should yet say ' Sir, no going.' Verily,
You shall not go : a lady's ' Verily ' 's 50

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet ?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest ; so you shall pay your fees
When you depart, and save your thanks. How

say you ?

My prisoner ? or my guest ? by your dread ' Verily/
One of them you shall be.

Pol. Your guest, then, madam :

To be your prisoner should import offending ;
Which is for me less easy to commit
Than you to punish.

Her. Not your gaoler, then,

But your kind hostess. Come, 1 '11 question you 60
Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys :
You were pretty lordings then ?

Pol. We were, fair queen,

Two lads that thought there was no more behind
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord

42. good deed, in verity. 47. limber, pliant.

43. jar, tick. 53. pay your fees, the fees

44. What lady - she, any paid by prisoners on their libera-
woman of rank. tion from prison.

28l

The Winter's Tale ACT i

The verier wag o' the two?

Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i'

the sun,

And bleat the one at the other : what we changed
Was innocence for innocence ; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd 70

That any did. Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd

heaven

Boldly ' not guilty ; ' the imposition clear'd
Hereditary ours.

Her. By this we gather

You have tripp'd since.

Pol. O my most sacred lady !

Temptations have since then been born to 's ; for
In those unfledged days was my wife a girl ;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.

Her. Grace to boot ! 80

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
Your queen and I are devils : yet go on ;
The offences we have made you do we '11 answer,
If you first sinn'd with us and that with us
You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not
With any but with us.

Leon. Is he won yet?

Her. He '11 stay, my lord.

Leon. At my request he would not.

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest
To better purpose.

Her. Never ?

70. no, nor dream'd; so F]-4. 74. the imposition clear'd

Nor dream 'd, F1, making a line hereditary ours , setting aside the

which, however it be scanned, 'original sin' we inherit as men.

Shakespeare cannot have written, 76. sacred, royal.

73. blood, passions. 80. Grace to boot, Grace aid us !

282

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Leon. Never, but once.

Her. What ! have I twice said well ? when

was 't before ? 90

I prithee tell me ; cram 's with praise, and make 's
As fat as tame things : one good deed dying

tongueless

Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages : you may ride 's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal :
My last good deed was to entreat his stay :
What was my first ? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you : O, would her name were Grace
But once before I spoke to the purpose : when ? *»
Nay, let me have 't ; I long.

Leon. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to

death,

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand
And clap thyself my love : then didst thou utter
' I am yours for ever.'

Her. Tis grace indeed.

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose

twice :

The one for ever earn'd a royal husband ;
The other for some while a friend.

Leon. [Aside'] Too hot, too hot !

To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on me : my heart dances ; no
But not for joy ; not joy. This entertainment
May a free face put on, derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,

96. heat, run over in a single no. tremor cordis , 'trembling

course or ' heat. ' of the heart. '

104. clap thyself my ltn<e, 113. fertile bosom, expansive

plight thyself by clasp of hands. kindness.

283

The Winter's Tale ACT i

And well become the agent ; 't may, I grant ;
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practised smiles,
As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer ; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows ' Mamillius,
Art thou my boy ?

Mam, Ay, my good lord.

Leon. I' fecks ! 120

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd

thy nose ?

They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat ; not neat, but cleanly, captain :
And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf
Are all call'd neat. — Still virginalling
Upon his palm ! — How now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?

Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots

that I have,

To be full like me : yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs ; women say so, 130

That will say any thing : but were they false
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye : sweet villain !

1 1 8. mort o' the deer, notes with the fingers as on the

of the horn, blown to announce virginals or spinnet.
the death of the quarry. I28. a rough pash, an uneven

120. /' fecks, a colloquial forehead (i.e. with budding
variation for f faith. horns).

121. bawcock, a term of en- , , , ,,

, ... , , , . 1 32. o er-dyed blacks, mourn-

dearment, like ' chuck, but . J

always masculine (beau coq\ ing garments made of old faded

125. «^,U. (horned) cattle. stuffs dyed,
ib. virginalling, playing 136. welkin, blue.
284

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Most dear'st ! my collop ! Can thy dam ? — may 't

be?—

Affection ! thy intention stabs the centre :
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicatest with dreams ; — how can this be ? — 140
With what 's unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow'st nothing : then 'tis very credent
Thou mayst co-join with something ; and thou dost,
And that beyond commission, and I find it,
And that to the infection of my brains
And hardening of my brows.

Pol. What means Sicilia?

Her. He something seems unsettled.

Pol. How, rny lord !

What cheer ? how is 't with you, best brother ?

Her. You look

As if you held a brow of much distraction :
Are you moved,, my lord?

Leon. No, in good earnest 150

How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil

137. Most dear st ! my collop ! inmost thoughts of man ('the
It was a proverbial saying that centre') ; makes him believe
'it is a dear collop that is cut things he thought impossible ;
out of thy own flesh. ' takes part with and persuades

138. Affection ! thy intention him of the reality of dreams and
stabs the centre, etc. Leontes, idle fancies; whence (142) it is
momentarily mistrusting his sus- very credible that it may per-
picion, as he contemplates his suade him of the reality of things
son ('May't be?'}, suddenly which have a basis in reality,
realises the tyranny of emotion even beyond the warrant of that
('affection') over insight; and basis.

utters the discovery in brief but 142. credent, credible,
obscure ejaculations, the general 154. methoughts; an Eliza-
sense of which is as follows : The bethan form of methought( which
intensity ( ' intention ') of ' affec- also occurs, e.g. five lines below,
tion ' pierces to and masters the on the analogy of methinks).

285

The Winter's Tale ACT i

Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,

In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled,

Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,

As ornaments oft do, too dangerous :

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,

This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, 160

Will you take eggs for money ?

Mam. No, my lord, I '11 fight.

Leon. You will ! why, happy man be 's dole !

My brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince as we
Do seem to be of ours ?

Pol. If at home, sir,

He :s all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,
Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy,
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all :
He makes a July's day short as December,
And with his varying childness cures in me 170

Thoughts that would thick my blood.

Leon. So stands this squire

Officed with me : we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione
•How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome ;
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap :
Next to thyself and my young rover, he 's
Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you would seek us,

We are yours i' the garden : shall 's attend you
there ?

160. squash, unripe peapod. portion to be a ' happy man.'

161. Will you take eggs for 170. childness, childish
money ? A proverb, meaning : humours.

'Will you submit to be paid in 17I- S° stands . . . qffic'd,

eggs instead of coin ? ' ' will you ' Such is Mamillius' office with

put up with an affront ? ' me. '

163. happy man be' s dole, 177. Apparent, next heir.

also a proverb : May it be his 1 78. shall 's. shall we.

286

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Leon. To your own bents dispose you : you '11

be found,
Be you beneath the sky, \Aside\ I am angling

now, 180

Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to !

How she holds up the neb, the bill to him !
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband !

\_Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and
Attendants.
Gone already !
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd

one !

Go, play, boy, play : thy mother plays, and I
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave : contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There

have been, J9o

Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluiced in 's absence
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour : nay, there 's comfort in 't
Whiles other men have gates and those gates

open'd,

As mine, against their will. Should all despair
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is

none ; 20o

It is a bawdy planet, that will strike

183. neb, bill (lips). chastity (cf. a rhyming planet,

Much Ado, v. 2. 40), whose in-

201. // is a bawdy planet, etc. , fluence makes wives unfaiihful
Vice is a sort of planet of un- wherever it prevails.

287

The Winter's Tale ACT

Where 'tis predominant ; and 'tis powerful, think it,

From east, west, north and south : be it concluded,

No barricade for a belly ; know 't ;

It will let in and out the enemy

With bag and baggage : many thousand on 's

Have the disease, and feel 't not. How now, boy !

Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leon. Why, that 's some comfort

What, Camillo there ?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius ; thou 'rt an honest
man. \_Exit Mamillius.

Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor

hold:
When you cast out, it still came home.

Leon. Didst note it ?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made
His business more material.

Leon. Didst perceive it ?

[Aside] They 're here with me already, whispering,

rounding

' Sicilia is a so-forth : ' 'tis far gone,
When I shall gust it last. How came 't, Camillo,
That he did stay ?

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty.

Leon. At the queen's be 't : ' good ' should be

pertinent ;

But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine ?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks : not noted, is 't,
But of the finer natures ? by some severals

214. came home, failed to take 222. taken, perceived,

hold.

217. rounding, whispering. 226. severals, individuals.

288

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Of head-piece extraordinary ? lower messes
Perchance are to this business purblind ? say.

Cam. Business, my lord ! I think most under
stand
Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon Ha !

Cam. Stays here longer. 230

Leon. Ay, but why ?

Cam. To satisfy your highness and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.

Leon. Satisfy !

The entreaties of your mistress ! satisfy !
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd : but we have been
Deceived in thy integrity, deceived 240

In that which seems so.

Cam. Be it forbid, my lord !

Leon. To bide upon 't, thou art not honest, or,
If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward,
Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
From course required ; or else thou must be

counted

A servant grafted in my serious trust
And therein negligent ; or else a fool
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake

drawn,
And takest it all for jest.

Cam. My gracious lord,

227. lower messes, those who 237. chamber-councils, private

dine at the lower tables, sub- designs.

ordinates, menials. 242. To bide upon 't, to con

tinue, or dwell upon it.

236. nearest things to, things 244. hoxes, hamstrings,

nearest to. maims.

VOL. IV 289 U

The Winter's Tale ACT i

I may be negligent, foolish and fearful ; 250

In every one of these no man is free,

But that his negligence, his folly, fear,

Among the infinite doings of the world,

Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,

If ever I were wilful-negligent,

It was my folly ; if industriously

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,

Not weighing well the end ; if ever fearful

To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,

Whereof the execution did cry out 260

Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear

Which oft infects the wisest : these, my lord,

Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty

Is never free of. But, beseech your grace,

Be plainer with me ; let me know my trespass

By its own visage : if I then deny it,

'Tis none of mine.

Leon. Ha' not you seen, Camillo, —

But that 's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, — or heard, —
For to a vision so apparent rumour 270

Cannot be mute, — or thought, — for cogitation
Resides not in that man that does not think, —
My wife is slippery ? If thou wilt confess,
Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say
My wife 's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
Before her troth-plight : say 't and justify 't.

Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without 280

My present vengeance taken : 'shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less

256. industriously, deliber- 266. zVj(Fjit's).
ately. 281. present, instant.

290

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Than this ; which to reiterate were sin
As deep as that, though true.

Leon. Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning cheek to cheek ? is meeting noses ?
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh ? — a note infallible
Of breaking honesty — horsing foot on foot ?
Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes 290
Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
Why, then the world and all that 's in 't is nothing ;
The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing ;
My wife is nothing ; nor nothing have these

nothings,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cured

Of this diseased opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon. Say it be, 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon. It is ; you lie, you lie :

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, 300

Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer, that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both : were my wife's liver
Infected as her life, she would not live
The running of one glass.

Cam. Who does infect her ?

Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal,

hanging

About his neck, Bohemia : who, if I
Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits, 310

291. the pin and web, cataract.
291

The Winter's Tale ACT i

Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
Which should undo more doing : ay, and thou,
His cup-bearer, — whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see
Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,
How I am galled, — mightst bespice a cup,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink ;
Which draught to me were cordial.

Cam. Sir, my lord,

I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
But with a lingering dram that should not work 320
Maliciously like poison : but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have loved thee, —

Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot !

Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation, sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps,
Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, 33o
Who I do think is mine and love as mine,
Without ripe moving to 't ? Would I do this ?
Could man so blench ?

Cam. I must believe you, sir :

I do ; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't ;
Provided that, when he 's removed, your highness
Will take again your queen as yours at first,

311. particular thrifts, private 319. rash, quick,

gains. 324. Make thai thy question,

313. meaner form, lower place treat Hermione's guilt as open
(with an allusion to the lower to discussion, and be cursed !
seats in hall). 326. appoint myself, dress

314. bench'd, raised to myself.

authority. 333. blench, swerve (from

317. wink, sleep. reason).

292

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Even for your son's sake ; and thereby for sealing
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.

Leon. Thou dost advise me

Even so as I mine own course have set down : 34o
I '11 give no blemish to her honour, none.

Cam. My lord,

Go then ; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
And with your queen. I am his cupbearer :
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.

Leon. This is all :

Do 't and thou hast the one half of my heart ;
Do 't not, thou split'st thine own.

Cam. I '11 do 't, my lord.

Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised
me. [Exit. 350

Cam. O miserable lady ! But, for me,
What case stand I in ? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes ; and my ground to do 't
Is the obedience to a master, one
Who in rebellion with himself will have
All that are his so too. To do this deed,
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
And flourish'd after, I 'Id not do 't ; but since
Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, 360
Let villany itself forswear 't. I must
Forsake the court : to do 't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now !
Here comes Bohemia.

337. thereby, moreover. accusing tongues.

ib. for sealing the injury of 356. so, i.e. in rebellion with
tongues, in order to seal up themselves.

293

The Winter's Tale ACTI

Re enter POLIXENES.

Pol. This is strange : methinks

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?
Good day, Camillo.

Cam. Hail, most royal sir !

Pol. What is the news i' the court ?

Cam. None rare, my lord.

Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance
As he had lost some province and a region
Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him 370
With customary compliment ; when he,
Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and
So leaves me to consider what is breeding
That changeth thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

Pol. How ! dare not ! do not. Do you know,

and dare not ?

Be intelligent to me : 'tis thereabouts ;
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must,
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, 38o
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows me mine changed too ; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter'd with 't.

Cam. There is a sickness

Which puts some of us in distemper, but
I cannot name the disease ; and it is caught
Of you that yet are well.

Pol. How ! caught of me !

Make me not sighted like the basilisk :
I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better

372. Wafting to the contrary , 378. intelligent, communica-

turning hastily in the opposite live,
direction.

294

sc. n The Winter's Tale

By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo, — 39o
As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto
Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns
Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
In whose success we are gentle, — I beseech you,
If you know aught which does behove my know
ledge

Thereof to be inform'd, imprison 't not
In ignorant concealment.

Cam. I may not answer.

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well !
I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, CamiUo,
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man 4oo

Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least
Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
Is creeping toward me ; how far off, how near ;
\\hich way to be prevented, if to be;
If not, how best to bear it.

Cam. Sir, I will tell you ;

Since I aril charged in honour and by him
That I think honourable : therefore mark my

counsel,

Which must be -even as swiftly follow'd as
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me 4io

Cry lost, and so good night !

Pol. On, good Camillo.

Cam. I am appointed him to murder you.

Pol. By whom, Camillo ?

Cam. By the king.

Pol. For what ?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he
swears,

394. In whose success, by virtue 397. ignorant concealment,

of succeeding whom. concealment under the pretext

of ignorance.

295

The Winter's Tale ACT i

As he had seen 't or been an instrument

Td vice you to 't, that you have touch'd his queen

Forbiddenly.

Pol. O, then my best blood turn

To an infected jelly and my name
Be yoked with his that did betray the Best !
Turn then my freshest reputation to 420

A savour that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard or read !

Cam. Swear his thought over

By each particular star in heaven and
By all their influences, you may as well
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon
As or by oath remove or counsel shake
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
Is piled upon his faith and will continue 43o

The standing of his body.

Pol. How should this grow ?

Cam. I know not : but I am sure 'tis safer to
Avoid what 's grown than question how 'tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
That lies enclosed in this trunk which you
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night !
Your followers I will whisper to the business,
And will by twos and threes at several posterns
Clear them o' the city. For myself, I '11 put
My fortunes to your service, which are here 44o

By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain ;
For, by the honour of my parents, I

416. vice, screw, force. bear it down by oaths taken in

419. his, etc., 'the name of the name of eveiT star- etc'
Judas Iscariot. .43°- continue the standing of

his body, i.e. as long as his body

424. Swear his thought over, stands.
overswear his thought ; try to 441. discovery, disclosure.

296

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Have utter'd truth : which if you seek to prove,
I dare not stand by ; nor shall you be safer
Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth,

thereon
His execution sworn.

Pol. I do believe thee :

I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand :
Be pilot to me and thy places shall
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and
My people did expect my hence departure 4So

Two days ago. This jealousy
Is for a precious creature : as she 's rare,
Must it be great, and as his person :s mighty,
Must it be violent, and as he does conceive
He is dishonour'd by a man which ever
Profess d to him, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me :
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta'en suspicion ! Come, Camillo ; 460

I will respect thee as a father if
Thou bear'st my life off hence : let us avoid.

Cam. It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns : please your highness
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.

\Exeunt.

448. places, station. nothing, etc., involved (with

Polyxenes) in his suspicions, but
459- Part °f h*s (heme, but in no wise sharing it.

297

v4/A--SL. . U- /^c^r. <-"''

. - . . -J^ \

The Winter's Tale ACT

*~- '- • ' ' * SAJ * '

f. ~~

ACT II.

SCENE I. A room in LEONTES' palace.

. V

Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, a«</ Ladies.

Her. Take the boy to you : he so troubles me,
'Tis past enduring.

First Lady. Come, my gracious lord,

Shall I be your playfellow ?

Mam. No, I '11 none of you.

First Lady. Why, my sweet lord ?

Mam. You '11 kiss me hard and speak to me

as if
I were a baby still. I love you better.

Sec. Lady. And why so, my lord ?

Mam. Not for because

Your brows are blacker ; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle, 10

Or a half-moon made with a pen.

Sec. Lady. Who taught you this ?

Mam. I learnt it out of women's faces. Pray

now
What colour are your eyebrows ?

First Lady. Blue, my lord.

Mam. Nay, that 's a mock : I have seen a lady's

nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

First Lady. Hark ye ;

The queen your mother rounds apace : we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince

ii. Who taught you this? Rowe's reading for Fj who taught
'this'.

sc. i The Winter's Tale

One of these days ; and then you 'Id wanton with

us,
If we would have you.

Sec. Lady. She is spread of late

Into a goodly bulk : good time encounter her !

Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you ? Come,

sir, now

I am for you again : pray you, sit by us,
And tell 's a tale.

Mam. Merry or sad shall 't be ?

Her. As merry as you will.

Mam. A sad tale 's best for winter : I have one
Of sprites and goblins.

Her. Let 's have that, good sir.

Come on, sit down : come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprites ; you 're powerful
at it.

Mam. There was a man —

Her. Nay, come, sit down ; then on.

Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard : I will tell it

softly ;
Yond crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on, then,

And give 't me in mine ear.

Enter LEONTES, with ANTIGONUS, Lords, and
others.

Leon. Was he met there ? his train ? Camillo

with him ?
First Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met

them ; never

Saw I men scour so on their way : I eyed them
Even to their ships.

Leon. How blest am I

In my just censure, in my true opinion \

18. -wanton, sport.
299

The Winter's Tale ACT n

Alack, for lesser knowledge ! how accursed

In being so blest ! There may be in the cup

A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart, 40

And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge

Is not infected : but if one present

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known

How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,

With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the

spider.

Camillo was his help in this, his pandar :
There is a plot against my life, my crown ;
All 's true that is mistrusted : that false villain
Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him :
He has discover'd my design, and I 50

Remain a pinch'd thing ; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will. How came the posterns
So easily open ?

First Lord. By his great authority ;
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
On your command.

Leon. I know 't too well.

Give me the boy : I am glad you did not nurse

him :

Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this ? sport ?

Leon. Bear the boy hence ; he shall not come

about her ;

Away with him ! and let her sport herself 60

With that she 's big with ; for 'tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.

Her. But I 'Id say he had not,

39. There may be in the cup, 45. hefts, retchings.

etc. The spider was held to be 50. He has discover d, (Camillo)

venomous, but with the reserve has betrayed,

that ignorance was a charm 51. pinch'd, tricked, outwitted,

against its infection. ib. trick, toy, plaything.

300

sc. i The Winter's Tale

And I '11 be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to the nayward.

Leon. You, my lords,

Look on her, mark her well ; be but about
To say ' she is a goodly lady,' and
The justice of your hearts will thereto add
' }Tis pity she 's not honest, honourable : '
Praise her but for this her without-door form,
Which on my faith deserves high speech, and

straight 7o

The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use — O, I am out —
That mercy does, for calumny will sear
Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha's,
When you have said ' she 's goodly,' come between
Ere you can say ' she 's honest : ' but be 't known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should

be,
She 's an adulteress.

Her. Should a villain say so,

The most replenish'd villain in the world,
He were as much more villain : you, my lord, 80

Do but mistake.

Leon. You have mistook, my lady,

Polixenes for Leontes : O thou thing,
Which I '11 not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar : I have said
She's an adulteress ; I have said with whom :
More, she 's a traitor and Camillo is

64. to the nayward, to denial. 82. thou thing, -which f 'II not

71- brands, stigmas. f?"' etc' = h5,wi!1,n?t c*11 » qu*en

by the ' bold title ' she has de-

79. replenish'd, complete. served.

301

The Winter's Tale ACT n

A federary with her, and one that knows 90

What she should shame to know herself

But with her most vile principal, that she 's

A bed-swerver, even as bad as those

That vulgars give bold'st titles, ay, and privy

To this their late escape.

Her. No, by my life,

Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish'd me ! Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly then to say
You did mistake.

Leon. No ; if I mistake 100

In those foundations which I build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A school-boy's top. Away with her ! to prison !
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
But that he speaks.

Her. There 's some ill planet reigns :

I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew
Perchance shall dry your pities : but I have no

That honourable grief lodged here which burns
Worse than tears drown : beseech you all, my

lords,

With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shall best instruct you, measure me ; and so
The king's will be perform'd !

Leon. Shall' I be heard ?

Her. Who is 't that goes with me ? Beseech

your highness,
My women may be with me ; for you see

90. federary, accomplice. (as the centre of the planetary

1 02. The centre, the earth system).

302

sc. i The Winter's Tale

My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools ;
There is no cause : when you shall know your

mistress

Has deserved prison, then abound in tears 120

As I come out : this action I now go on
Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord :
I never wish'd to see you sorry ; now
I trust I shall. My women, come ; you have leave.

Leon. Go, do our bidding ; hence !

\Exit Queen, guarded ; with Ladies.

First Lord. Beseech your highness, call the
queen again.

Ant. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your

justice
Prove violence ; in the which three great ones

suffer,
Yourself, your queen, your son.

First Lord. For her, my lord,

I dare my life lay down and will do 't, sir, 130

Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless
I' the eyes of heaven and to you ; I mean,
In this which you accuse her.

Ant. If it prove

She 's otherwise, I '11 keep my stables where
I lodge my wife ; I '11 go in couples with her ;
Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her ;
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,
If she be.

Leon. Hold your peaces.

First Lord. Good my lord, —

118, fvoh , here a term of 134- I'll keep my stables where

tender familiarity. / lodge my -wife, turn my wife's

121. action, lawsuit, trial. chamber into a stall,— treat her

as I treat my horses and hounds,

122. for my better grace, to nay, run in leashes with her
set me in a fairer light. myself.

303

The Winter's Tale ACT n

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves : J4o
You are abused and by some putter-on
That will be damn'd for 't ; would I knew the

villain,

I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd,
I have three daughters ; the eldest is eleven ;
The second and the third, nine, and some five ;
If this prove true, they'll pay for't: by mine

honour,

I '11 geld 'em all ; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations : they are co-heirs ;
And I had rather glib myself than they
Should not produce fair issue.

Leon. Cease ; no more. 150

You smell this business with a sense as cold
As is a dead man's nose : but I do see 't and feel 't,
As you feel doing thus ; and see withal
The instruments that feel.

Ant. If it be so,

We need no grave to bury honesty :
There 's not a grain of it the face to sweeten

141. putter-on, instigator. consisted of the public announce-
143. land-damn. This per- ment of the delinquents' names
plexing word is very possibly a to an audience previously sum-
misprint, due to the accidental moned by a blowing of horns
repetition of the word ' damn ' and trumpets along the country-
immediately above ; the repeti- side. Cf. Halliwell, Diet, of
tion having no stylistic point. Archaic Words, and Notes and
Numerous conjectures are re- Queries, iii. 464 (quot. Ingleby).
corded by the Camb. edd. , e.g. 148. false generations, bastard
land-damm (Hanmer) ; laud- offspring.
anum (Farmer); live -damn 149. glib, geld.
(Walker) ; lamback (Collier) ; 153. doing thus. Leontes
Lord, damn (Schmidt). The here grasps some part of Anti-
word has also been regarded as gonus' person, probably his
a quibbling variation of landan arm. Hanmer introduced a
— a dialectical word still current corresponding stage - direction
for the rustic punishment in- into his text,
flicted in various districts upon 154. The instruments that
' slanderers and adulterers ' ; it feel, the fingers.

3°4

sc. i The Winter's Tale

Of the whole dungy earth.

Leon. What ! lack I credit ?

first Lord. I had rather you did lack than I,

my lord,

Upon this ground ; and more it would content me
To have her honour true than your suspicion, 160

Be blamed for 't how you might.

Leon. Why, what need we

Commune with you of this, but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
Imparts this ; which if you, or stupified
Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
W7e need no more of your advice : the matter,
The loss, the gain, the ordering on 't, is all
Properly ours.

Ant. And I wish, my liege, 170

You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.

Leon. How could that be ?

Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
Added to their familiarity,
Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation
But only seeing, all other circumstances
Made up to the deed, doth push on this pro
ceeding :

Yet, for a greater confirmation,' i80

For in an act of this importance 'twere
Most piteous to be wild, I have dispatch'd in post

167. Relish, perceive. 177. That lack'd sight only,

172. overture, disclosure. etc., (conjecture) that wanted

176. touch' d conjecture, roused nothing but ocular evidence to

suspicion. be proof.

VOL. IV 305 • X

_ ^ J1 ^

.U. v Winter-s

To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff d sufficiency : now from the oracle
They will bring all ; whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well ?

First Lord. Well done, my lord.

Leon. Though I am satisfied and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle 19

Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good
From our free person she should be confined,
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us ;
We are to speak in public ; for this business
Will raise us all.

Ant. [Aside] To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known. [Exeunt.

SCENE II A prison.

Enter PAULINA, a Gentleman, and Attendants.

Paul. The keeper of the prison, call to him ;
Let him have knowledge who I am. [Exit Gent.

Good lady,

No court in Europe is too good for thee ;
What dost thou then in prison ?

Re-enter Gentleman, with the Gaoler.

Now, good sir,
You know me, do you not ?

183. Delphos, Delphi. It is ing Greene.
conceived as an island (iii. i. i), ^^ stu/'d. adequate.

probably through confusion with

Delos. But in both points 194- A«, access.ble to all.
Shakespeare was merely follow- 198. raise, rouse, stir up.
306

\ . . , X^"* v\*

f/W~r*£j*-*n »~< Vj*J v*S+S}*Tr~*J i \Vx >t^^^ *r&j~. Vjfcn Vv^^oVrv— «A *Co

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

(9rt(9/. For a worthy lady

And one whom much I honour.

Paul. Pray you then,

Conduct me to the queen.

Gaol. I may not, madam :

To the contrary I have express commandment.

Paul. Here 's ado,

To lock up honesty and honour from 10

The access of gentle visitors ! Is 't lawful, pray *--

you,
To see her women ? any of them ? Emilia ?

Gaol. So please you, madam, V-w^i s\j*

To put apart these your attendants, I
Shall bring Emilia forth.

Paul. I pray now, call her.

Withdraw yourselves.

\Exeunt Gentleman and Attendants. £~A -

Gaol. And, madam,

I must be present at your conference.

Paul. Well, be 't so, prithee. [Exit Gaoler.

Here 's such ado to make no stain a stain
As passes colouring.

Re-enter Gaoler, with EMILIA.

Dear gentlewoman, 20

How fares our gracious lady ?

EmiL As well as one so great and so forlorn
May hold together : on her frights and griefs,
Which never tender lady hath borne greater,
She is something before her time deliver'd.

Paul. A boy ?

Emil. A daughter, and a goodly babe,

Lusty and like to live : the queen receives
Much comfort in 't ; says ' My poor prisoner,

20. passes colouring, outdoes all the arts of painting.
23. on, as a consequence of.

3°7

The Winter's Tale ACT

I am innocent as you.'

Paul, I dare be sworn :

These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, beshrew

them !

He must be told on 't, and he shall : the office
Becomes a woman best ; I '11 take 't upon me :
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister
And never to my red-look'd anger be
The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my best obedience to the queen :
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I '11 show 't the king and undertake to be
Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o' the child :
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.

Emil. Most worthy madam,

Your honour and your goodness is so evident
That your free undertaking cannot miss
A thriving issue : there is no lady living
So meet for this great errand. Please your lady
ship

To visit the next room, I '11 presently
Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer ;
Who but to-day hammer'd of this design,
But durst not tempt a minister of honour,
Lest she should be denied.

Paul. Tell her, Emilia,

I '11 use that tongue I have : if wit flow from 't
As boldness from my bosom, let 't not be doubted
I shall do good.

Emil. Now be you blest for it !

I '11 to the queen : please you, come something
nearer.

30. lunes, capricious moods. pondering.

49. hammer d of, was forging, 50. tempt, attempt

308

sc. in The Winter's Tale

Gaol. Madam, if't please the queen to send

the babe,

I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
Having no warrant.

Paul. You need not fear it, sir :

This child was prisoner to the womb and is
By law and process of great nature thence 60

Freed and enfranchised, not a party to
The anger of the king nor guilty of,
If any be, the trespass of the queen.

Gaol. I do believe it.

Paul. Do not you fear : upon mine honour, I
Will stand betwixt you and danger. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. A room in LEONTES' palace.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and
Servants.

Leon. Nor night nor day no rest : it is but

weakness

To bear the matter thus ; mere weakness. If
The cause were not in being, — part o' the cause,
She the adulteress ; for the harlot king
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she
I can hook to me : say that she were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
Might come to me again. Who 's there ?

First Serv. My lord ?

Leon. How does the boy ?

first Serv. He took good rest to-night ; 10

'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.

4. harlot, rascal. of my brain, out of the aim of

my missiles, beyond the reach

5. out of the blank and level of my plots.

309

The Winter's Tale ACT n

Leon. To see his nobleness !
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply,
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on 't in himself,
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd. Leave me solely : go,
See how lie fares. [Exit Serv.] Fie, fie ! no

thought of him :

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me : in himself too mighty, 20

And in his parties, his alliance ; let him be
Until a time may serve : for present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow :
They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor
Shall she within my power.

Enter PAULINA, with a child.

First Lord. You must not enter.

Paid. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me :
Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
Than the queen's life ? a gracious innocent soul,
More free than he is jealous.

Ant. That 's enough. 3o

Sec. Serv. Madam, he hath not slept to-night ;

commanded
None should come at him.

Paul. Not so hot, good sir :

I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,
That creep like shadows by him and do sigh
At each his needless heavings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking : I
Do come with words as medicinal as true,
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour

20. Recoil, recoils. — is in- 30. free, innocent,
stinctively rejected as infeasible. 38. humour, capricious mood.

310

sc. in The Winter's Tale

That presses him from sleep.

Leon. What noise there, ho ?

Paul. No noise, my lord ; but needful confer
ence 4°
About some gossips for your highness.

Leon. How !

Away with that audacious lady ! Antigonus,
I charged thee that she should not come about me :
I knew she would.

Ant. I told her so, my lord,

On your displeasure's peril and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leon. What, canst not rule her ?

Paul. From all dishonesty he can : in this,
Unless he take the course that you have done,
Commit me for committing honour, trust it,
He shall not rule me.

Ant. La you now, you hear : 50

When she will take the rein I let her run ;
But she '11 not stumble.

Paul. Good my liege, I come ;

And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dare
Less appear so in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seem yours : I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leon. Good queen !

Paul. Good queen, my lord,

Good queen ; I say good queen ;

And would by combat make her good, so were I 60
A man, the worst about you.

Leon. Force her hence.

Paul. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
First hand me : on mine own accord I '11 off;

41. gossips, sponsors.

The Winter's Tale ACT n

But first I '11 do my errand. The good queen,
For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter ;
Here 'tis ; commends it to your blessing.

\Laying down the child.

Leon. Out !

A mankind witch ! Hence with her, out o' door :
A most intelligencing bawd !

Paul. Not so :

I am as ignorant in that as you

In so entitling me, and no less honest 70

Than you are mad ; which is enough, I '11 warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.

Leon. Traitors !

Will you not push her out ? Give, her the bastard.
Thou dotard ! thou art woman-tired, unroosted
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard ;
Take 't up, I say : give 't to thy crone.

Paul. For ever

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Takest up the princess by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon 't !

Leon. He dreads his wife.

Paul. So I would you did ; then 'twere past

all doubt 80

You 'Id call your children yours.

Leon. A nest of traitors !

Ant. I am none, by this good light.

Paul. Nor I, nor any

But one that 's here, and that 's himself, for he
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,

67. mankind, violent, fero- ously (said of birds of prey).'
cious. 75. dame Partlet, the name

68. intelligencing, going be- of the Hen in Chaucer's Nonnes
tween two parties. Prestes Tale.

74. woman - tired, ' hen- 78. by that forced baseness,

pecked. Tire is ' to tear a in deference to a command in
prey, seize and feed on it raven- which she is called ' bastard.'

312

sc. in The Winter's Tale

His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's ; and

will not —

For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compell'd to 't — once remove
The, root of his opinion, which is rotten
As ever oak or stone was sound.

Leon. A callat 90

Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her

husband

And now baits me ! This brat is none of mine ;
It is the issue of Polixenes :
Hence with it, and together with the dam
Commit them to the fire !

Paul. It is yours ;

And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip,
The trick of 's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley, 100
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek,
His smiles,

The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger :
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast

made it

So like to him that got it, if thou hast
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow in 't, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's !

Leon. A gross hag !

And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
That wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant. Hang all the husbands no

That cannot do that feat, you '11 leave yourself
Hardly one subject.

90. callat, trull, loose woman. 109. lozel, rogue.

3T3

The Winter's Tale ACT H

Leon. Once more, take her hence.

Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.

Leon. I '11 ha' thee burnt.

Paul. I care not :

It is an heretic that makes the fire,
Not she which burns in 't. I '11 not call you tyrant ;
But this most cruel usage of your queen,
Not able to produce more accusation
Than your own weak -hinged fancy, something

savours

Of tyranny and will ignoble make you, 120

Yea, scandalous to the world.

Leon. On your allegiance,

Out of the chamber with her ! Were I a tyrant,
Where were her life ? she durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her !

Paul. I pray you, do not push me ; I '11 be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord ; 'tis yours : Jove send

her

A better guiding spirit ! What needs these hands ?
You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, so : farewell ; we are gone. [Exit. 130

Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.
My child ? away with 't ! Even thou, that hast
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence
And see it instantly consumed with fire ;
Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight:
Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,
And by good testimony, or I '11 seize thy life,
With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so ;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire ; HO

For thou set'st on thy wife.

sc. in The Winter's Tale

Ant. I did not, sir :

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
Can clear me in 't.

Lords. We can : my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

Leon. You 're liars all.

first Lord. Beseech your t highness, give us

better credit :

We have always truly served you, and beseech you
So to esteem of us, and on our knees we beg,
As recompense of our dear services 150

Past and to come, that you do change this purpose,
Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
Lead on to some foul issue : we all kneel.

Leon. I am a feather for each wind that blows :
Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
And call me father ? better burn it now
Than curse it then. But be it ; let it live.
It shall not neither. You, sir, come you hither ;
You that have been so tenderly officious
With Lady Margery, your midwife there, 160

To save this bastard's life, — for 'tis a bastard,
So sure as this beard 's grey, — what will you ad
venture
To save this brat's life ?

Ant. Any thing, my lord,

That my ability may undergo
And nobleness impose : at least thus much :
I '11 pawn the little blood which I have left
To save the innocent : any thing possible.

Leon. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant. I will, my lord.

• •*

160. Lady Margery, a con- 162. this beard, i.e. Anti-

temptuous term for a woman. gonus'.

164. undergo, undertake.

315

The Winter's Tale ACT „

Leon. Mark and perform it, see'st thou ! for the

fail

170

)f any point in 't shall not only be
Death to thyself but to thy levvd-tongued wife,
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin t'hee,
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
This female bastard hence and that thou bear it
To some remote and desert place quite out
Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it,
Without more mercy, to it own protection
And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee, l8o

On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,
That thou commend it strangely to some place
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.

Ant. I swear to do this, though a present death
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe :
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurses ! Wolves and bears, they say,
Casting their savageness aside have done
Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous
In more than this deed does require ! And blessing ,90
Against this cruelty fight on thy side,
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss !

[Exit with the child.

A Leon- No, I'll not rear

Another s issue.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Please your highness, posts

From those you sent to the oracle are come
An hour since : Cleomenes and Dion,

178. it, its; a form of the There is no instance of its in any
possessive current for a few edition of a Shakespeare play
years of the early seventeenth published in his lifetime
century when his was obsoles- 182. commend, commit

cent and its not yet established. 190. require, claim, deserve

316

ACT in The Winter's Tale

Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to the court.

First Lord. So please you, sir, their speed

Hath been beyond account.

Leon. Twenty three days

They have been absent : 'tis good speed ; foretells
The great Apollo suddenly will have
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords ;
Summon a session, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady, for, as she hath
Been publicly accused, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives
My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me,
And think upon my bidding. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A sea-port in Sicilia.

Enter CLEOMENES and DION.

Cleo. The climate 's delicate, the air most sweet,
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
The common praise it bears.

Dion. I shall report,

For most it caught me, the celestial habits,
Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice !
How ceremonious, solemn and une'arthly
It was i' the offering !

Cleo. But of all, the burst

And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,

2. the isle ; see note to ii. i. 183.

The Winter's Tale ACT

Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense,
That I was nothing.

Dion. If the event o' the journey

Prove as successful to the queen, — O be 't so ! —
As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
The time is worth the use on 't.

Cleo. Great Apollo

Turn all to the best ! These proclamations,
So forcing faults upon Hermione,
I little like.

Dion. The violent carriage of it
Will clear or end the business : when the oracle,
Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up,
Shall the contents discover, something rare
Even then will rush to knowledge. Go : fresh horses !
And gracious be the issue ! [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A court of Justice.

Enter LEONTES, Lords, and Officers.

Leon. This sessions, to our great grief we pro
nounce,

Even pushes 'gainst our heart : the party tried
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt or the purgation.
Produce the prisoner.

Off. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen
Appear in person here in court. Silence ! 10

14. The time is worth the use 'common saying" quoted by

on 't, has been well spent. The Singer from Florio's Montaigne :

idea implicit in the phrase ' The time we live is worth the

appears more distinctly in a money we pay for it.'

- ^ >A
sc.ii The Winter's Tale t'l

Enter HERMIONE guarded ; PAULINA
Ladies attending.

Leon. Read the indictment.

Off. [Reads\ Hermione, queen to the worthy
Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused
and arraigned of high treason, in committing
adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and
conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of
our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband .
the pretence whereof being by circumstances
partly laid open, thou, Hermione. contrary to
the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst 20
counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to
fly away by night.

Her. Since what I am to say must be but that
Which contradicts my accusation and
The testimony on my p.art no other
But what conies from myself, it shall scarce boot me
To say ' not guilty : ' mine integrity
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so received. But thus : if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do, 30

I doubt not then but innocence shall make
False accusation blush and tyranny
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
Who least will seem to do so, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy ; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devised

18. pretence, intention. shall make fortune blushe, and

29 f. Hermione's speech my unspotted life shall staine

borrows several turns from spiteful discredit. ... Howl have

Bellaria's in Greene. 'If the led my life before Egistus coming,

devine powers bee privy to I appeale, Pandosto, to the gods

humane actions (as no doubt and to thy conscience.'
they are) I hope my patience 36. -which, sc. unhappiness.

The Winter's Tale ACT. m

And play'd to take spectators. For behold me

A fellow of the royal bed, which owe

A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, 40

The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing

To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore

Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it

As I weigh grief, which I would spare : for honour,

'Tis a derivative from me to mine,

And only that I stand for. I appeal

To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes

Came to your court, how I was in your grace,

How merited to be so ; since he came,

With what encounter so uncurrent I so

Have strain'd to appear thus : if one jot beyond

The bound of honour, or in act or will

That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts

Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin

Cry fie upon my grave !

Leon. I ne'er heard yet

That any of these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did
Than to perform it first.

Her. That 's true enough ;

Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

Leon. You will not own it.

Her. More than mistress of 60

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,

50. With what encounter so this is a kind of attraction to the

uncurrent I have strain'd, with notion of 'want.'
what unwarranted behaviour I 60. More than mistress of, et-c.

have offended, that I appear The passage is probably corrupt ;

here. Strain'd probably means possibly a line has been omitted,

'swerved from, done violence to, But the meaning intended is

right.' Johnson conjectured clear: ' I must not in any degree

Been strain'd, Collier stray 'd. acknowledge faults charged

against me further than they are

57. Less, i.e. more; probably mine.'

320

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

With whom I am accused, I do confess

I loved him as in honour he required,

With such a kind of love as might become

A lady like me, with a love even such,

So and no other, as yourself commanded :

Which not to have done I think had been in me

Both disobedience and ingratitude

To you and toward your friend, whose love had

spoke, 70

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
I know not how it tastes ; though it be dish'd
For me to try how : all I know of it
Is that Camillo was an honest man ;
And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta'en to do in 's absence.

Her. Sir, 80

You speak a language that I understand not :
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
Which I '11 lay down.

Leon. Your actions are my dreams ;

You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame, —
Those of your fact are so — so past all truth :
Which to deny concerns more than avails ; for as
Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
No father owning it, — which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee than it, — so thou 90

Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage
Look for no less than death.

Her. Sir, spare your threats :

The bug which you would fright me with I seek.

82. stands in the level of, 86. fact, crime.

is the mark or aim of. 93. bug, bugbear.

VOL. IV 321 Y

The Winter's Tale ACT m

To me can life be no commodity :
The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
I do give lost ; for I do feel it gone,
But know not how it went. My second joy
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence
I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort,
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast, 100

The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder : myself on every post
Proclaimed a strumpet : with immodest hatred
The child-bed privilege denied, which '"longs
To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i' the open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
That I should fear to die ? Therefore proceed.
But yet hear this; mistake me not; no life, no

I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour,
Which I would* free, if I shall be condemn'd
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
'Tis rigour and not law. Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle :
. Apollo be my judge !

First Lord. This your request

Is altogether just : therefore bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

\Exeunt certain Officers.

Her. The Emperor of Russia was my father : 120
O that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial ! that he did but see

94. commodity, object of desire. to he recovered after childbirth

101. *'// see note ii. 3. 178. before going out.
103. immodest, passing all 120. In Greene's romance it

bounds. is Egistus' (Polixenes1) wife who

107. strenglhoflim.it, probably is the daughter of the emperor

, tlie limited or prescribed strength of Russia.

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge !

Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION.

Off. You here shall swear upon this sword of

justice,

That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have

brought

This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest and that since then
You have not dared to break the holy seal 130

Nor read the secrets in 't.

Cleo. Dion. All this we swear.

Leon. Break up the seals and read.

Off. \Reads\ Hermione is chaste ; Polixenes
blameless ; Camillo a true subject ; Leontes a
jealous tyrant ; his innocent babe truly begotten ;
and the king shall live without an heir, if that
which is lost be not found.

Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo !

Her. Praised !

Leon. Hast thou read truth ?

Off. Ay, my lord ; even so

As it is here set down. t40

Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle :
The sessions shall proceed : this is mere falsehood.

Enter Servant.

Sen>. My lord the king, the king !

Leon. What is the business ?

Serv. O sir, I shall be hated to report it !
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen's speed, is gone.

145. with mere conceit, etc., by the mere imagination of the
queen's fate.

323

The Winter's Tale ACT m

Leon. How ! gone !

Serv. Is dead.

Leon. Apollo 's angry ; and the heavens them
selves

Do strike at my injustice. \Hcrmione swoons.]

How now there !

Paul. This news is mortal to the queen : look

down
And see what death is doing.

Leon. Take her hence : 150

Her heart is but o'ercharged ; she will recover :
I have too much believed mine own suspicion :
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life.

\JExeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Hermione.

Apollo, pardon

My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle !
I '11 reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy ;
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose 160

Camillo for the minister to poison
My friend Polixenes : which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death and with
Reward did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing 't and being done : he, most humane
And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended, 170

No richer than his honour : how he glisters
Thorough my rust ! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker !

1 68. practice, knavery.
324

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Re-enter PAULINA.

Paul. Woe the while !

O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too !

First Lord. What fit is this, good lady ?

Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for

me?

What wheels ? racks ? fires ? what flaying ? boiling ?
In leads or oils ? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst ? Thy tyranny 180

Together working with thy jealousies,
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine, O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad ! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing ;
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful : nor was 't much,
Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's

honour,

To have him kill a king ; poor trespasses, 190

More monstrous standing by : whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little ; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done 't :
Nor is 't directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts,
Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish'd his gracious dam : this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer : but the last, — O lords, 20o

185. but spices, mere season- adding inconstancy to thy
ings. previous folly.

187. of a fool, inconstant,

325

The Winter's Tale ACT m

When I have said, cry ' woe ! ' — the queen, the

queen,

The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, and venge
ance for 't
Not dropp'd down yet.

First Lord. The higher powers forbid !

Paul. I say she 's dead ; I '11 swear 't. If word

nor oath

Prevail not, go and see : if you can bring
Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
Heat outwardly or breath within, I '11 serve you
As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant !
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir : therefore betake thee 210
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

Leon. Go on, go on :

Thou canst not speak too much ; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.

First Lord. Say no more :

Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
T the boldness of your speech.

Paul. I am sorry for 't :

All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, 220
I do repent. Alas ! I have show'd too much
The rashness of a woman : he is touch'd
To the noble heart. What 's gone and what 's

past help

Should be past grief: do not receive affliction
At my petition ; I beseech you, rather
Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman :
326

. ___ % ^(^ A<

The Winter's Tale

The love I bore your queen — lo, fool again ! — rfcj&-A
I '11 speak of her no more, nor of your children ; 330^-
I '11 not remember you of my own lord,
Who is lost too : take your patience to you,
And I '11 say nothing.

Leon. Thou didst speak but well

When most the truth ; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen and son :
One grave shall be for both : upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
Our shame perpetual. Once a day I '11 visit
The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there 240
Shall be my recreation : so long as nature
Will bear up with this exercise, so long
I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
Unto these sorrows. \Exeunt..

SCENE III. Bohemia. A desert country near
the sea.

Enter ANTIGONUS with a Child, and a Mariner.

Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath

touch'd upon
The deserts of Bohemia ?

Mar. Ay, my lord ; and fe;ir

We have landed in ill time : the skies look grimly
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry
And frown upon 's.

Ant. Their sacred wills be done ! Go, get

aboard ;
Look to thy bark : I '11 not be long before

231. remember, remind. common grave.

237. upon them, on their i. perfect, assured.

327

The Winter's Tale ACT m

I call upon thee.

Mar. Make your best haste, and go not 10

Too far i' the land : 'tis like to be loud weather ;
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey that keep upon 't.

Ant. Go thou away :

I '11 follow instantly.

Mar. I am glad at heart

To be so rid o' the business. \Exit.

Ant. Come, poor babe :

I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the

dead

May walk again : if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another; 20
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
So fill'd and so becoming : in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach
My cabin where I lay ; thrice bow'd before me,
And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts : the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her : ' Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath, 3o

Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weep and leave it crying ; and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
I prithee, call 't. For this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect myself and thought

21. -vessel, creature.
22. so becoming, so seemly in her sorrow.

3*8

rir-? ua^/v^*- V-4i'"'~ lf~j-f.\f~ '-'"••£

Cv^y-*-^-. m. V-*~«. M - \^

sc. in The Winter's Tale [-

This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys : v"

Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously, "* 40

I will be squared by this. I do believe Sju~v

Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that

Apollo would, this being indeed the issue ^^

Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,

Either for life or death, upon the earth

Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well ! %a-v!u

There lie, and there thy character : there these ;

Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee,

pretty,

And still rest thine. The storm begins : poor wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed so

To loss and what may follow ! Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds ; and most accursed am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell !
The day frowns more and more : thou 'rt like to have
A lullaby too rough : I never saw
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour !
Well may I get aboard ! This is the chase :
I am gone for ever. [Exit, pursued by a bear.

Enter a Shepherd.

Shep. I would there were no age, between
ten and three -and -twenty, or that youth would 60
sleep out the rest ; for there is nothing in the
between but getting wenches with child, wrong
ing the ancientry, stealing, fighting — Hark you
now ! Would any but these boiled brains of

41. be squared by, shape my 56. A savage clamour, i.e.

course in accordance with. of the bear-hunters and hounds.

47. character, identifying de- 57. the chase, the quarry,

scription. 60. ten. Capell suggested

47. these, the gold and clothes thirteen, and the Globe edd. put
which he lays down. sixteen in their text.

48. breed, provide for its 63. the anciently, ' the old
rearing. folks. '

329

U^,.

•5. U«J™ r«W" 'J'>* ^

The Winter's Tale ACT nt

nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this weather ?
They have scared away two of my best sheep,
which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the
master : if any where I have them, 'tis by the sea
side, browsing of ivy. Geod luck, an 't be thy
will ! what have we here ? Mercy on 's, a barne ; 7o
a very pretty barne ! A boy or a child, I wonder ?
A pretty one ; a very pretty one : sure, some
scape : though I am not bookish, yet I can read
waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has
been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some
behind- door- work : they were warmer that got
this than the poor thing is here. 1 :11 take it up
for pity : yet I '11 tarry till my son come ; he hal
looed but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa !

Enter Clown.

Clo. Hilloa, loa ! 80

Shep. What, art so near? If thou'lt see a
thing to talk on when thou art dead and rotten,
come hither. What ailest thou, man ?

Clo. I have seen two such sights, by sea and
by land ! but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is
now the sky : betwixt the firmament and it you
cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

Shep. Why, boy, how is it ?

Clo. I would you did but see how it chafes,
how it rages, how it takes up the shore ! but go-
that 's not to the point. O, the most piteous cry
of the poor souls ! sometimes to see 'em, and not
to see 'em ; now the ship boring the moon with
her main-mast, and anon swallowed with yest
and froth, as you 'Id thrust a cork into a hogs
head. And then for the land-service, to see how

71. child, girl (probably, like 73. scape, slip , faux pas*
'barne,' a dialectic use). 94. yest, foam.

330

-/~

sc. in The Winter's Tale x>j^v<

o i

the bear tore out his shoulder-bone ; how he cried j.^ v^ l>

to me for help and said his name was Antigonus, c~.V

a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, to <Vj

see how the sea flap-dragoned it : but, first, how 100

the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them ;

aiad how the poor gentleman roared and the bear

mocked him, both roaring louder than the sea or

° . \Cr-f-t~f \

weather.

Shep. Name of mercy, when was this, boy ?

Clo. Now, now : I have not winked since I
saw these sights : the men are not yet cold under
water, nor the bear half dined on the gentleman :
he 's at it now.

Shep. Would I had been by, to have helped no
the old man !

Clo. I would you had been by the ship side,
to have helped her : there your charity would
have lacked footing.

Shep. Heavy matters ! heavy matters ! but
look thee here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou
mettest with things dying, I with things new
born. Here 's a sight for thee ; look thee, a
bearing-cloth for a squire's child ! look thee here ;
take up, take up, boy ; open 't. So, let 's see : 120
it was told me I should be rich by the fairies.
This is some changeling : open 't. What 's within,
boy?

Clo. You 're a made old man : if the sins of

ioo. flap - dragoned, gulped on which the child was carried

down. The flap-dragon was a to the font.

burning substance set afloat in 124. made, Theobald's

a glass of liquor and swallowed emendation for Fj mad, placed

•at a gulp. beyond doubt by a corresponding

in. the old man. That An- passage in Greene : ' The good

tigonus was ' old ' agrees with old man desired his wife to be

ii. 3. 162, but it is not apparent quiet ; if she would hold her

how the shepherd knew it. peace, they were made for

119. bearing-cloth, the cloth ever.'

331

, «yu~* <*• *, v-ws W-» ..., -. U • .».-''•>-
V The Winter's Tale ACT iv

your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live.
Gold! all gold!

Shep. This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill
prove so : up with 't, keep it close : home, home,
the next way. We are lucky, boy ; and to be
so still requires nothing but secrecy. Let my i30
sheep go : come, good boy, the next way home.

Clo. Go you the next way with your findings.
I '11 go see if the bear be gone from the gentle
man and how much he hath eaten : they are
never curst but when they are hungry : if there
be any of him left, I '11 bury it.

Shep. That 's a good deed. If thou mayest
discern by that which is left of him what he is,
fetch me to the sight of him.

Clo. Marry, will I ; and you shall help to put 140
him i' the ground.

Shep. 'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we '11 do
good deeds on 't. [Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter TIME, the Chorus.

Time. I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror
Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
To me or my swift passage, that I slide
O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried

135. curst, ill-tempered. in the ensuing words of the title-
Time, Hie Chorus. This page, as quoted in the Intro-
device was probably suggested duction.

by the title of Greene's romance, 6. leave the growth untried,

Pandosto, ot the Triumph of inquire not what has grown (in

Time — the title being expanded the interval).

332

WJJ( &JA „

A»» vw*v\ VvJyU)-^ Qv^-V,

sc. i The Winter's Tale

I«X ( .1 !

Of that wide gap, since it is in my power
To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour

_ ,1,1 T ' fw r-..-v

To plant and o erwhelm custom. Let me pass • 5.,. _.

The same I am, ere ancient'st order was 10

Or what is now received : I witness to

The times that brought them in ; so shall I do

To the freshest things now reigning and make stale

The glistering of this present, as my tale

Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,

I turn my glass and give my scene such growing

As you had slept between : Leontes leaving,

The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving

That he shuts up himself, imagine me,

Gentle spectators, that I now may be 20

In fair Bohemia; and remember well,

I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel

I now name to you ; and with speed so pace

To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace

Equal with wondering : what of her ensues

I list not prophesy ; but let Time's news

Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's

daughter,

And what to her adheres, which follows after,
Is the argument of Time. Of this allow,
If ever you have spent time worse ere now ; 30

If never, yet that Time himself doth say
He wishes earnestly you never may. [Exit.

8. self-born, self-begotten, i.e. clearer by Lloyd's punctuation,
the issue of Time. in which Since . . . I am form

9. Let me pass the same I am. a single sentence. But the
Time pleads that as he can bring following Ere ancient'st order
about sudden revolutions, he is ... received does not very well
not deserving his character in connect with / witness . . . in.
passing suddenly over the slow 25. -wondering, the admiring
changes of sixteen years. The wonder she excites,
argument is certainly made 29. allow, approve.

333

ArV

, \

The Winter's Tale ACT

Ov-^A , o-v-. VU^£S**~A , <^ V-..V^C^&A^ CAT— ( V^A -^

»_»~^Vx v-*~v C,A ti*L* — A . * -v

SCENE II. Bohemia. The palace of POLIXENES.

Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO.

Pol. I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more
importunate : 'tis a sickness denying thee any
thing ; a death to grant this.

Cam. It is fifteen years since I saw my
country : though I have for the most part been
aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there.
Besides, the penitent king, my master, hath sent
for me ; to whose feeling sorrows I might be
some allay, or I o'erween to think so, which is
another spur to my departure. 10

Pol. As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not
out .the rest of thy services by leaving me now :
the need I have of thee thine own goodness
hath made ; better not to have had thee than
thus to want thee : thou, having made me busi
nesses which none without thee can sufficiently
manage, must either stay to execute them thy
self or take away with thee the very services
thou hast done ; which if I have not enough con
sidered, as too much I cannot, to be more thank- 20
ful to thee shall be my study, and my profit
therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal
country, Sicilia, prithee speak no more ; whose
very naming punishes me with the remembrance
of that penitent, as thou callest him, and recon
ciled king, my brother ; whose loss of his mo?t
precious queen and children are even now to he
afresh lamented. Say to me, when sawest thou

4. fifteen, probably an error 8. feeling, keenly felt,

for sixteen, which Hanmer 22. friendships, marks of
substituted. friendship.

334

sc. n The Winter's Tale

the Prince Florizel, my son ? Kings are no less
unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than 3o
they are in losing them when they have approved
their virtues.

Cam. Sir, it is three days since I saw the
prince. What his happier affairs may be, are to
me unknown : but I have missingly noted, he is
of late much retired from court and is less fre
quent to his princely exercises than formerly he
hath appeared.

Pol. I have considered so much, Camillo, and
with some care ; so far that I have eyes under 40
my service which look upon his removedness ;
from whom I have this intelligence, that he is
•seldom from the house of a most homely shep
herd ; a man, they say, that from very nothing,
and beyond the imagination of his neighbours, is
grown into an unspeakable estate.

Cam. I have heard, sir, of such a man, who
"hath a daughter of most rare note : the report of
her is extended more than can be thought to
begin from such a cottage. so

Pol. That 's likewise part of my intelligence ;
but, I fear, the angle that plucks our son thither.
Thou shalt accompany us to the place ; where
Tve will, not appearing what we are, have some
•question with the shepherd ; from whose sim
plicity I think it not uneasy to get the cause of
my son's resort thither. Prithee, be my present
partner in this business, and lay aside the thoughts
of Sicilia.

Cam. I willingly obey your command. 60

Pol. My best Camillo ! We must disguise
ourselves. [Exeunt.

31. they, i.e. the children. 31. approved, given evidence of.
35. missingly, regretfully.

335

*^, r^w- ^' , rr, ,

The Winter s Tale ACT

SCENE III. ^4 road near the Shepherd's cottage.

Enter AuTOLYCUS, singing.

When daffodils begin to peer,

With heigh ! the doxy over the dale,
Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year ;

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,

With heigh ! the sweet birds, O, how they sing !

Doth set my pugging tooth on edge ;
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lyra chants,

With heigh ! with heigh ! the thrush and the jay, 10
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore
three-pile ; but now I am out of service :

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear ?

The pale moon shines by night :
And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,

And bear the sow-skin budget, 20

Then my account I well may give,

And in the stocks avouch it.

My traffic is sheets ; when the kite builds, look to

1. pee.r, appear. 14. three-pile, sc. velvet.

2. doxy, lass, mistress (thieves' 23. taken the kite builds,
cant term for the women who look to lesser linen. Autolycus
accompanied them). is drawing an illustration, not

7. pegging, thievish (like a contrast, from the kite's pro-

' sweet tooth'); also a cant term, cedure ; 'You look after your

from which a noun ' puggard ' small linen when the kite builds ;

was formed. for the same reason look after

n. aunts, 'doxies.1 your sheets now. '

336

x CUSV»~^ Vv-0 Vi~x~^4 cX*-NTk C. C>^r/S V-H. "t Vv-S /y<jU Ula-

sc. in The Winter's Tale

. , J T^sU^.V?

lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus ;
who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was
likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.
With die and drab I purchased this caparison,
and my revenue is the silly cheat. Gallows and
knock are too powerful on the highway : beating
and hanging are terrors to me : for the life to 3o
come, I sleep out the thought of it. A prize ! a
prize !

Enter Clown.

Clo. Let me see : every 'leven wether tods ;
every tod yields pound and odd shilling ; fifteen
hundred shorn, what comes the wool to ?

Aut. \Aside\ If the springe hold, the cock 's
mine.

Clo. I cannot do 't without counters. Let me
see ; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing
feast? Three pound of sugar, five pound of cur- 40
rants, rice, — what will this sister of mine do with
rice ? But my father hath made her mistress of
the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me
four and twenty nosegays for the shearers, three-
man-song-men all, and very good ones ; but they
are most of them means and bases ; but one puritan

24. Autolycus, in Greek myth 28. silly cheat, petty theft,

a son of Hermes, whom the pilfering.

Romans identified with their god 29. knock, the hard blows

Mercury, and, like his father, incident to highway robbery.

reputed for his skill in theft. 33. tods, yield a tod (28 Ibs.)

Both facts are played on in the of wool.

assertion that he is ' littered 34. odd shilling, one shilling.

under (the planet) Mercury.' Cf. 36. cock, 'woodcock, 'i.e. fool.

note to i. 2. 201. 44. three-man-song-men, able

27. die and drab, dice and to sin& in trios'
harlots 4 means- tenors ; it is prob

ably meant that there were few

27. this caparison, his ragged counter-tenors, the highest male %
attire ; properly, a horse-cloth. voice.

VOL. iv 337 z

The Winter's Tale ACTIV

amongst them, and he sings psalms to horn
pipes. I must have saffron to colour the warden
pies ; mace ; dates ? — none, that 's out of my note ;
nutmegs, seven ; a race or two of ginger, but that 50
I may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many
of raisins o' the sun.

Aut. O that ever I was born !

\Grovelling on the ground.

Clo. I' the name of me —

Aut. O, help me, help me ! pluck but off these
rags; and then, death, death!

Clo. Alack, poor soul ! thou hast need of more
rags to lay on thee, rather than have these off.

Aut. O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends
me more than the stripes I have received, which 60
are mighty ones and millions.

Clo. Alas, poor man ! a million of beating may
come to a great matter.

Aut. I am robbed, sir, and beaten ; my money
and apparel ta'en from me, and these detestable
things put upon me.

Clo. What, by a horseman, or a footman ?

Aut. A footman, sweet sir, a footman.

Clo. Indeed, he should be a footman by the
garments he has left with thee : if this be a horse- 7o
man's coat, it hath seen very hot service. Lend
me thy hand, I '11 help thee : come, lend me thy
hand.

Aut. O, good sir, tenderly, O !

Clo. Alas, poor soul !

48. warden pie, one made of 54. T the name of me — ,
baking-pear. It was common to probably a vulgar oath of the
colour pastry with saffron. type of ' Body o' me.' The Ff

49. note, list. have me. The suggestion that

50. race, root. the clown meant to say mercy
52. raisins o' the sun, sun- is unlikely, as me would have

dried raisins. suggested a wrong sound.

sc. in The Winter's Tale

Aut, O, good sir, softly, good sir! Ifear, sir,
my shoulder-blade is out.

Clo. How now ! canst stand ?

Aut. \Picking his pockcf\ Softly, dear sir ;
good sir, softly. You ha' done me a charitable 80
office.

Clo. Dost lack any money ? I have a little
money for thee.

Aut. No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you,
sir : I have a kinsman not past three quarters of
a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I shall
there have money, or any thing I want : offer me
no money, I pray you ; that kills my heart.

Clo. What manner of fellow was he that
robbed you ? 90

Aut. A fellow, sir, that I have known to go
about with troll-my-dames : I knew him once a
servant of the prince : I cannot tell, good sir, for
which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly
whipped out of the court.

Clo. His vices, you would say ; there 's no
virtue whipped out of the court : they cherish it
to make it stay there ; and yet it will no more but
abide.

Aut. Vices, I would say, sir. I know this man 100
well: he hath been since an ape-bearer; then
a process-server, a bailiff; then he compassed
a motion of the Prodigal Son, and married a
tinker's wife within a mile where my land and
living lies ; and, having flown over many knavish

92. troH-Tny-dantes, the game 98. no more but abide, merely

of ' pigeon - holes ' ( Fr. trou- make a brief sojourn.
madame], in which balls were

rolled through a series of open- 102. compassed a motion,

ings made in a board. It was acquired a puppet - show (in

chiefly an indoors amusement which the Prodigal Son was

for ladies. performed).

339

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

professions, he settled only in rogue : some call him
Autolycus.

Clo. Out upon him ! prig, for my life, prig :
he haunts wakes, fairs and bear-baitings.

Aut. Very true, sir ; he, sir, he ; that 's the no
rogue that put me into this apparel.

Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bo
hemia : if you had but looked big and spit at him,
he 'Id have run.

Aut. I must confess to you, sir, I am no
fighter : I am false of heart that way ; and that
he knew, I warrant him

Clo. How do you now ?

Aut. Sweet sir, much better than I was ; I
can stand and walk : I will even take my leave 120
of you, and pace softly towards my kinsman's.

Clo. Shall I bring thee on the way ?

Aut. No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.

Clo. Then fare thee well : I must go buy
spices for our sheep-shearing.

Aut. Prosper you, sweet sir! [Exit Clown.]
Your purse is not hot enough to purchase your
spice. I '11 be with you at your sheep-shearing
too : if I make not this cheat bring out another
and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled 130
and my name put in the book of virtue !

[Sings] Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,

And merrily hent the stile-a :•
A merry heart goes all the day,

Your sad tires in a mile-a. [Exit.

108. prig, thief. with two similar stanzas, be-

130. unrolled, struck off the lonSed to a song which was
roll of thieves. reprinted in 1661 in the collec

tion of lyrics called An Antidote
132. Jog on, jog on. This, against Melancholy.

•4°

*_ ,

^\__ rflfo-^— V/JU^*. "\ (/v~A-xiK/' vv JS. . 4^ >.-v™6^- w '/«{j«-}*~-« ^r-J^ - *v»-i v-

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

\ L. l), . t . . »^

SCENE IV. 7%£ Shepherd's cottage, v* y

f^* j^f*- '
.E/z&r FLORIZEL c«^ PERDITA. wJt^v oK*~o^

J5fc. These your unusual weeds to each part of

you

Do give a life : no shepherdess, but Flora
Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing -
Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
And you the queen on 't.

Per. Sir, my gracious lord,

To chide at your extremes it not becomes me :
O, pardon, that I name them ! Your high self,
The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank'd up : but that our feasts 10
In every mess have folly and the feeders
Digest it with a custom, I should blush
To see you so attired, swoon, I think,
To show myself a glass.

Flo. I bless the time

When my good falcon made her flight across
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you cause !

To me the difference forges dread ; your greatness
Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble
To think your father, by some accident,
Should pass this way as you did : O, the Fates ! 20
How would he look, to see his work so noble

6. extremes, extravagant ac- n. mess, dish.

tion (in assuming a shepherd's 12 Digest it with a custom,

dress). carry jt off through habit.

8. mark o the land, the ' ob
served of all observers. ' 13- swoon, Hanmer's correc- .

10. pranKd up, arrayed, tion of Ff sivorn, to which no

decked out. natural sense can be attached.

341

\ "~* «~^f '"* t; Cr^

v-* f 'tv.

The Winter's Tale ACTIV

Vilely bound up ? What would he say ? Or how
Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
The sternness of his presence ?

Flo. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The shapes of beasts upon them : Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd ; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated ; and the fire-robed god,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain, 30

As I seem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O, but, sir,

Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king :
One of these two must be necessities,
Which then will speak, that you must change this

purpose,
Or I my life.

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita, 40

With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not
The mirth o' the feast. Or I '11 be thine, my fair,
Or not my father's. For I cannot be
Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle ;
Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing
'That you behold the while. Your guests are

coming :

Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
Of celebration of that nuptial which so

32. piece, creature.
33. in a way so chaste, with so pure an aim.

^KJ * pj-J^-A

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

We two have sworn shall come.

Per. O lady Fortune,

Stand you auspicious !

Flo. See, your guests approach :

Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
And let 's be red with mirth.

Enter Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, and
others, with POLIXENES and CAMILLO dis
guised.

Shep. Fie, daughter ! when my old wife lived,

upon

This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
Both dame and servant ; welcomed all, served all :
Would sing her song and dance her turn ; now

here,

At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle ;
On his shoulder, and his ; her face o' fire 60

With labour and the thing she took to quench it,,
She would to each one sip. You are retired,
As if you were a feasted one and not
The hostess of the meeting : pray you, bid
These unknown friends to 's welcome ; for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Co'me, quench your blushes and present yourself
That which you are, mistress o' the feast : come

on,

And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
As your good flock shall prosper.

Per. \To Pol.'] Sir, welcome : 70

It is my father's will I should take on me
The hostess-ship o' the day. \_To Cam.] You 're

welcome, sir.
Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend

sirs,

56. pantler, pantry-maid (or man).

343

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

For you there 's rosemary and rue ; these keep
Seeming and savour all the winter long :
Grace and remembrance be to you both,
And welcome to our shearing !

Pol Shepherdess, —

A fair one are you — well you fit our ages
With flowers of winter.

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,

Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth 80

Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the

season

Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors,
Which some call nature's bastards : of that kind
Our rustic garden's barren ; and I care not
To get slips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them ?

Per. For I have heard it said

There is an art which in their piedness shares
With great creating nature.

Pol. Say there be ;

Yet nature is made better by no mean
But nature makes that mean : so, over that art 9o
Which you say adds to nature, is an art
That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we
marry

76. Grace and remembrance. pollen from one flower to another

Rosemary was ' for remem- of different colour, which may

brance,' rue (through a confusion be done either by the hand of

with me, ' regret') for ' grace ' ; man, or by nature, by means of

cf. Ham. iv. 5. the air and by bees' (Roach

82. gillyvors, ' gilliflowers ' ; Smith, The Rural Life of Skake-

variously interpreted as wall- speare, quot. Deighton).

flowers, or a kind of carnation. 92 <"• Polixenes illustrates the

' artificial ' process of producing

86. For, because. crosses between flowers of differ.

87. an art. ' The art is ent colours by the process of
simply the transmission of the grafting.

344

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
And make conceive a bark of baser kind
By bud of nobler race : this is an art
Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
The art itself is nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
And do not call them bastards.

Per. I '11 not put

The dibble in earth to set one slip of them ; 100

No more than were I painted I would wish
This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here 's flowers for you ;
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun
And with him rises weeping : these are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. You 're very welcome.

Cam. I should leave grazing, were I of your

flock,
And only live by gazing.

Per. Out, alas ! no

You'ld be so lean, that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through. Now,

my fair'st friend,

I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
Become your time of day ; and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing : O Proserpina, -

zoo. dibble, a pointed instru- with the sun.'
merit for making holes. 116. O Proserpina. This

104. Hot, aromatic. ima&e is from Ovid>s narrative

in Metam. (bk. v. ), a book with

105. that goes to bed wi' the which Shakespeare was (prob.
sun. The marigold or sunflower in the original, but certainly
was called the Sponsus solis, in Golding's translation) very
' because it slept and awakened familiar.

345

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall

From Dis's waggon ! daffodils,

That come before the swallow dares, and take •

The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, 120

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes

Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, — r

That die unmarried, ere they can behold

Bright Phcebus in his strength — a malady

Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips and

The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds,

The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack,

To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend,

To strew him o'er and o'er !

Flo. What, like a corse ?

Per. No, like a bank for love to lie and play on ; 130
Not like a corse ; or if, not to be buried,
But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your

flowers :

Methinks I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals : sure this robe of mine
Does change my disposition.

Flo. What you do

Still betters what is done. When you speak,

sweet,

I 'Id have you do it ever : when you sing,
I 'Id have you buy and sell so, so give alms,
Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs,

118. Dis's waggon, Pluto's 127. flower-de-luce, a kind of

chariot. iris ; elsewhere (as by Spenser)

120. dim. of subdued, unob- o^en called the flower Delice

trusive colour. (floi *&***•* )•

134. Whitsun pastorals, plays

126. crown imperial, the performed at Whitsuntide. Cf.

Fritillaria imperialis. or fritil- Two Gentlemen, iv. 4., where

lary. It had been introduced Julia feigns to have played ' at

into England from Constan- Pentecost ... a lamentable part'

tinople, and was highly prized — ' 'twas Ariadne passioning for

for its ' stately beautifulness.' Theseus' perjury."

346

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you 140

A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do

Nothing but that ; move still, still so,

And own no other function : each your doing,

So singular in each particular,

Crowns what you are doing in the present deed,

That all your acts are queens.

Per. 0 Doricles,

Your praises are too large : but that your youth,
And the true blood which peepeth fairly through 't,
Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles, 150

You woo'd me the false way.

Flo. I think you have

As little skill to fear as I have purpose
To put you to 't. But come ; our dance, I pray :
Your hand, my Perdita : so turtles pair,
That never mean to part.

Per. I '11 swear for 'em.

Pol. This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
Ran on the green-sward : nothing she does or

seems

But smacks of something greater than herself,
Too noble for this place.

Cam. He tells her something

That makes her blood look out : good sooth, she is 160
The queen of curds and cream.

Clo. Come on, strike up !

Dor. Mopsa must be your mistress : marry,

garlic,
To mend her kissing with !

Mop. Now, in good time !

144. singular, unique. 160. out, Theobald' semenda-

146. queens, each unique and tion for F, on 't.

supreme in its kind. 163. in good time, used ironi-

147. large, unreserved. cally, like Fr. a la bonne heure.
152. skill, reason. Cf. Tarn, of Shrew, ii. i. 96.

347

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

Clo. Not a word, a word; we stand upon our

manners.
Come, strike up !

\_Mnsic. Here a dance of Shepherds and

Shepherdesses,

Pol. Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is

this
Which dances with your daughter?

Shep. They call him Doricles ; and boasts him
self

To have a worthy feeding : but I have it
Upon his own report and I believe it ; 170

He looks like sooth. He says he loves my

daughter :

I think so too ; for never gazed the moon
Upon the water as he '11 stand and read
As 'twere my daughter's eyes : and, to be plain,
I think there is not half a kiss to choose
Who loves another best.

Pol. She dances featly.

Shep. So she does any thing ; though I report it,
That should be silent : if young Doricles
Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
Which he not dreams of. 180

Enter Servant.

Serv. O master, if you did but hear the pedlar
at the door, you would never dance again after a
tabor and pipe ; no, the bagpipe could not move
you : he sings several tunes faster than you '11
tell money ; he utters them as he had eaten ballads
and all men's ears grew to his tunes.

164. Not a word. The clown 169. a worthy feeding, ample
checks Mopsa's angry retort in pasture-lands,
the presence of the strangers. 176. featly, daintily.

348

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Clo. He could never come better ; he shall
come in. I love a ballad but even too well, if it
be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very
pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably. 190

Serv. He hath songs for man or woman, of
all sizes ; no milliner can so fit his customers with
gloves : he has the prettiest love-songs for maids ;
so without bawdry, which is strange ; with such
delicate burthens of dildos and fadings, 'jump
her and thump her ; ' and where some stretch-
mouthed rascal would, as it were, mean mischief
and break a foul gap into the matter, he makes the
maid to answer ' Whoop, do me no harm, good
man ; ' puts him off, slights him, with ' Whoop, 200
do me no harm, good man.'

Pol. This is a brave fellow.

Clo. Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable
conceited fellow. Has he any unbraided wares ?

Sen>. He hath ribbons of all the colours
i' the rainbow ; points more than all the lawyers in
Bohemia can learnedly handle, though they come
to him by the gross : inkles, caddisses, cambrics,
lawns : why, he sings 'em over as they were gods
or goddesses ; you would think a smock were a 210
she-angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and
the work about the square on 't.

187. better, more opportunely. ' imitation."

192. milliner, dealer in fancy 206. points, (i) the tagged

articles of dress; in Shakespeare's laces used for supporting the

time a masculine occupation. hose ; (2) ' points of law,' legal

195. dildos and fadings, subtleties,
meaningless burdens found in 208. inkles, tapes,
songs. ib. caddisses, worsted rib-

198. break a foul gap, make a bons.

foul parenthesis in the song (by 211. sleeve-hand, cuff,

violence). 212. thework about the square,

204. unbraided, (probably) the embroidery of the front-piece

genuine, not counterfeit or or bosom.

349

The Winter's Tale ACT ir

Clo. Prithee bring him in; and let him ap
proach singing.

Per. Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous
words in 's tunes. [Exit Servant.

Clo. You have of these pedlars, that have
more in them than you 'Id think, sister.

Per. Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing

Lawn as white as driven snow ; 220

Cyprus black as e'er was crow ;

Gloves as sweet as damask roses ;

Masks for faces and for noses ;

Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,

Perfume for a lady's chamber ;

Golden quoifs and stomachers,
. For* my lads to give their dears :

Pins and poking-sticks of steel,

What maids lack from head to heel :

Come buy of me, come ; come buy, come buy ; 230

Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry :

Come buy.

Clo. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou
shouldst take no money of me ; but being en
thralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of
certain ribbons and gloves.

Mop. I was promised them against the feast ;
but they come not too late now.

Dor. He hath promised you more than that,
or there be liars. 240

221. Cyprus, crape. which was used for this purpose

222. Gloves were often arti- also.

ficially perfumed. 226. quoifs, coifs, hoods.

224. Bugle, an elongated bead 228. poking-sticks, used in
of black glass. ironing the starched frills of the

225. Perfume, viz. the amber, Elizabethan ruff.

35°

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Mop. He hath paid you all he promised you :
may be, he has paid you more, which will shame
you to give him again.

Clo. Is there no manners left among maids?
will they wear their plackets where they should
bear their faces? Is there not milking-time,
when you are going to bed, or kiln -hole, to
whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-
tattling before all our guests ? 'tis well they are
whispering : clamour your tongues, and not a 250
word more.

Mop. I have done. Come, you promised me
a tawdry-lace and a pair of sweet gloves.

Clo. Have I not told thee how I was cozened
by the way and lost all my money ?

Ant. And indeed, sir, there are cozeners
abroad ; therefore it behoves men to be wary.

Clo. Fear riot thou, man, thou shalt lose no
thing here.

Aut. I hope so, sir ; for I have about me 360
many parcels of charge.

Clo: What hast here? ballads?

Mop. Pray now, buy some : I love a ballad in
print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.

Aut. Here 's one to a very doleful tune, how
a usurer's wife was brought to bed of twenty

245. plackets, stomachers, with M. E. clameren, 'thrust

or petticoats. 'Will they ex- closely together,' cognate with

pose what they ought to keep Scand. klome, a screw ; Germ,

private?' klamm, narrow defile; O.E.

247. kiln-hole, the opening of clom, fetter ; clamber, cling

an oven, used especially for pre- closely.

pa;ing malt, — a process which 253. tawdry-lace, rustic neck-

the female servants of a farm lace (so called from the fineries

had to watch. sold at the fair of St. Audrey,

250. clamour, constrain, re- held in the Isle of Ely on her

press. This expression, a puzzle day, iyth October),
to the older commentators, has 264. o life, a rustic assevera-

been almost certainly identified tion, 'as I live.'

351

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

money-bags at a burthen and how she longed to
eat adders' heads and toads carbonadoed.

Mop. Is it true, think you ?

Aut. Very true, and but a month old. 27o

Dor. Bless me from marrying a usurer !

Aut. Here 's the midwife's name to 't, one
Mistress Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives
that were present. Why should I carry lies
abroad ?

Mop. Pray you now, buy it.

Clo. Come on, lay it by : and let 's first see
moe ballads ; we '11 buy the other things anon.

Aut. Here 's another ballad of a fish, that
appeared upon the coast on Wednesday the four- 280
score of April, forty thousand fathom above water,
and sung this ballad against the hard hearts of
maids : it was thought she was a woman and was
turned into a cold fish for she would not exchange
flesh with one that loved her : the ballad is very
pitiful and as true.

Dor. Is it true too, think you ?

Aut. Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses
more than my pack will hold.

Clo. Lay it by too : another. 290

Aut. This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty
one.

Mop. Let 's have some merry ones.

Aut. Why, this is a passing merry one and
goes to the tune of ' Two maids wooing a man : '
there 's scarce a maid westward but she sings it ;
'tis in request, I can tell you.

268. carbonadoed, sliced for ers' Register, among many

broiling. similar entries, records (1604) :

279. ballad of a fish. In the ' A strange report of a monstrous

absence of newspapers, ballads fish that appeared in the form of

were a common vehicle of a woman from her waist upward,

'Strange Newes. ' The Station- seen in the sea.'

352

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Mop. We can both sing it : if them 'It bear a

part, thou shalt hear ; 'tis in three parts.

Dor, We had the tune on 't a month ago. 3oo

Aut. I can bear my part ; you must know 'tis

my occupation ; have at it with you.

SONG.

A. Get you hence, for I must go
Where it fits not you to know.

D. Whither? M. O, whither? D. Whither?
M. It becomes thy oath full well,
Thou to me thy secrets tell.

D. Me too, let me go thither.
M. Or thou goest to the grange or mill.
D. If to either, thou dost ill. 3io

A. Neither. D. What, neither? A. Neither.
D. Thou hast sworn my love' to be.
M. Thou hast sworn it more to me :

Then whither goest? say, whither?
Clo. WTe '11 have this song out anon by our
selves : my father and the gentlemen are in sad
talk, and we '11 not trouble them. Come, bring
away thy pack after me. Wenches, I '11 buy for
you both. Pedlar, let 's have the first choice.
Follow me, girls. \Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa. 320
Aut. And you shall pay well for 'em.

{Follows singing.
Will you buy any tape,

Or lace for your cape,
My dainty duck, my dear-a?

Any silk, any thread,

Any toys for your head,
Of the new'st and finest, finest wear-a?

Come to the pedlar ;

Money 's a medler.
That doth utter all men's ware-a. [Exit. 33o

316. sad, serious. 330. utter, cause to change owners.

VOL. IV 353 2 A

The Winter's Tale

Re-enter Servant.

Serv. Master, there is three carters, three
shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds,
that have made themselves all men of hair, they
call themselves Saltiers, and they have a dance
which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols,
because they are not in 't ; but they themselves
are o' the mind, if it be not too rough for some
that know little but bowling, it will please plenti
fully.

Shep. Away ! we '11 none on 't : here has been 34o
too much homely foolery already. I know, sir,
we weary you.

Pol. You weary those that refresh us : pray,
let 's see these four threes of herdsmen.

Serv. One three of them, by their own report,
sir, hath danced before the king; and not the
worst of the three but jumps twelve foot and a
half by the squier.

Shep. Leave your prating : since these good
men are pleased, let them come in ; but quickly 3So
now.

Serv. Why, they stay at door, sir. \Exit.

Here a dance of twelve Satyrs.

Pol. O, father, you '11 know more of that here
after.

\To Cam.] Is it not too far gone? Tis time to
part them.

He's simple and tells much. \To Flor^\ How
now, fair shepherd !

334. Saltiers, sc. 'Satyrs.' even motion of ordinary dancing,

335- gallimaufry, ' hodge- as distinguished from the jumps

podge,' medley. and capers of the ' Satyrs.*
338. bowling, the smooth, 348. squier, square, measure.

354

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Your heart is full of something that does take
Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was

young

And handed love as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks : I would have ran-

sack'd 36o

The pedlar's silken treasury and have pour'd it
To her acceptance ; you have let him go
And nothing marted with him. If your lass
Interpretation should abuse and call this
Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
For a reply, at least if you make a care
Of happy holding her.

Flo. Old sir, I know

She prizes not such trifles as these are :
The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd
Up in my heart ; which I have given already, 37o

But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,
Hath sometime loved ! I take thy hand, this hand,
As soft as dove's down and as white as it,
Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that's

bolted
By the northern blasts twice o'er.

Pol. What follows this ?

How prettily the young swain seems to wash
The hand was fair before ! I have put you out :
But to your protestation ; let me hear
What you profess.

Flo. Do, and be witness to 't. 380

Pol. And this my neighbour too ?

Flo. And he, and more

Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all :

360. she, lady. ' cornered. '

363. marted, traded. 369. looks, looks for.

365. straited, hard put to it, 375. bolted, sifted.

355

- - • • Tva-J; *"» ^ tr* ':

*A Vo-i S ^p*vro» JT Wit U

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch,
Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
That ever made eye swerve, had force and know
ledge

More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
Without her love ; for her employ them all ;
Commend them and condemn them to her service
Or to their own perdition.

Pol. Fairly offer'd.

Cam. This shows a sound affection.

Shep But, my daughter, 39o

Say you the like to him ?

Per. I cannot speak

So well, nothing so well ; no, nor mean better :
By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
The purity of his.

Shep. Take hands, a bargain !

And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness

to't:

I give my daughter to him, and will make
Her portion equal his.

Flo. O, that must be

I' the virtue of your daughter : one being dead,
I shall have more than you can dream of yet ;
Enough then for your wonder. But, come on, 4oo
Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

Shep. Come, your hand ;

And, daughter, yours.

Pol. Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you ;

Have you a father ?

Flo. I have : but what of him ?

Pol. Knows he of this ?

Flo. He neither does nor shall

Pol. Methinks a father
Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,

356

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Is not your father grown incapable

Of reasonable affairs ? is he not stupid

With age and altering rheums? can he speak?

hear ? 4io

Know man from man ? dispute his own estate ?
Lies he not bed-rid ? and again does nothing
But what he did being childish ?

' Flo. No, good sir ;

He has his health and ampler strength indeed
Than most have of his age.

Pol. By my white beard,

You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
Something unfilial : reason my son
Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason
The father, all whose joy is nothing else
But fair posterity, should hold some counsel 420

In such a business.

Flo. I yield all this ;

But for some other reasons, my grave sir,
Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
My father of this business.

Pol. Let him know \.

Flo. He shall not.

Pol. Prithee, let him.

Flo. No, he must not.

Shep. Let him, my son : he shall not need to

grieve
At knowing of thy choice.

Flo. Come, come, he must not.

Mark our contract.

Pol. Mark your divorce, young sir,

\Discovering himself.

Whom son I dare not call ; thou art too base
To be acknowledged : thou a sceptre's heir, 43o

That thus affect'st a sheep-hook ! Thou old traitor,

411. estate, affairs.

357

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

I am sorry that by hanging thee I can

But shorten thy life one week. And thou, fresh

piece

Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know
The royal fool thou copest with, —

Shep. O, my heart !

Pol. I '11 have thy beauty scratch'd with briers,

and made

More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,
If I may ever know thou dost but sigh
That thou no more shalt see this knack, as never
I mean thou shalt, we '11 bar thee from succession ; 44o
Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
Farre than Deucalion off : mark thou my words :
Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,
Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
From the dead blow of it. And you, enchant
ment, —

Worthy enough a herdsman ; yea, him too,
That makes himself, but for our honour therein,
Unworthy thee, — if ever henceforth thou
These rural latches to his entrance open,
Or hoop his body more with thy embraces, 450

I will devise a death as cruel for thee
As thou art tender to 't. \Exit.

Per. Even here undone !

I was not much afeard ; for once or twice
I was about to speak and tell him plainly,
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
Hides not his visage from our cottage but
Looks on alike. Will 't please you, sir, be gone ?

434. offeree, needs. preserve this Elizabethan form

435. copest -with, hast to do ofM.E. ferre, the comparative
with. of far.

439. knack, plaything, pup- 445. dead, mortal.

pet. 452. Even here, i.e. without

442. Farre, farther. The Ff waiting for the threatened doom.

358

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

I told you what would come of this : beseech you,
Of your own state take care : this dream of mine, —
Being now awake, I '11 queen it no inch farther, 460
But milk my ewes and weep.

Cam. Why, how now, father !

Speak ere thou diest.

Shep. I cannot speak, nor think,

Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir !
You have undone a man of fourscore three,
That thought to fill his grave in quiet, yea,
To die upon the bed my father died,
To lie close by his honest bones : but now
Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me
Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch,
That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst ad
venture 470
To mingle faith with him ! Undone ! undone !
If I might die within this hour, I have lived
To die when I desire. \Exit.

Flo. Why look you so upon me ?

I am but sorry, not afeard ; delay'd,
But nothing alter'd : what I was, I am ;
More straining on for plucking back, not following
My leash unwillingly.

Cam. Gracious my lord,

You know your father's temper : at this time
He will allow no speech, which I do guess
You do not purpose to him ; and as hardly 480

Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear :
Then, till the fury of his highness settle,
Come not before him.

Flo. I not purpose it.

I think, Camillo ?

Cam. Even he, my lord.

Per. How often have I told you 'twould be thus !
How often said, my dignity would last

359

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

But till 'twere known !

Flo. It cannot fail but by

The violation of my faith ; and then
Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together
And mar the seeds within ! Lift up thy looks : 490
From my succession wipe me, father ; I
Am heir to my affection.

Cam. Be advised.

Flo. I am, and by my fancy : if my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason ;
If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,
Do bid it welcome.

Cam. This is desperate, sir.

Flo. So call it : but it does fulfil rny vow ;
I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereat glean'd, for all the sun sees or Soo

The close earth wombs or the profound seas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath
To this my fair beloved : therefore, I pray you,
As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend,
When he shall miss me, — as, in faith, I mean not
To see him any more, — cast your good counsels
Upon his passion : let myself and fortune
Tug for the time to come. This you may know
And so deliver, I am put to sea

With her whom here I cannot hold on shore ; 5io
And most opportune to our need I have
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared
For this design. What course I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.

Cam. O my lord !

I would your spirit were easier for advice,

514. benefit your knowledge, 516. easier more pliant, sus-

profit you to know. ceptible.

360

sc. rv The Winter's* Tale

Or stronger for your need.

Flo. Hark, Perdita. \Drawing her aside.

I '11 hear you by and by.

Cam. He 's irremoveable,

Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if
His going I could frame to serve my turn, 520

Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia
And that unhappy king, my master, whom
I so much thirst to see.

Flo. Now, good Camillo ;

I am so fraught with curious business that
I leave out ceremony.

Cam. Sir, I think

You have heard of my poor services, i' the love
That I have borne your father?

Flo. Very nobly

Have you deserved : it is my father's music
To speak your deeds, not little of his care 530

To have them recompensed as thought on.

Cam. Well, my lord,

If you may please to think I love the king
And through him what is nearest to him, which is
Your gracious self, embrace but my direction :
If your more ponderous and settled project
May suffer alteration, on mine honour,
I '11 point you where you shall have such receiving
As shall become your highness ; where you may
Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,
There 's no disjunction to be made, but by — 54o

As heavens forfend ! — your ruin ; marry her,
And, with my best endeavours in your absence,
Your discontenting father strive to qualify

522. Purchase, win. 543. qualify, assuage.

$2$. curious, involved, thorny. 'Strive,' by a change in con-
543. discontenting, indignant. struction, refers to Camillo.

The -Winter's Tale ACT iv

And bring him up to liking.

Flo. How, Camillo,

May this, almost a miracle, be done ?
That I may call thee something more than man
And after that trust to thee.

Cam. Have you thought on

A place whereto you '11 go ?

Flo. Not any yet :

But as the unthought-on accident is guilty
To what we wildly do, so we profess 550

Ourselves to be the slaves of chance and flies
Of every wind that blows.

Cam. Then list to me :

This follows, if you will not change your purpose
But undergo this flight : — make for Sicilia,
And there present yourself and your fair princess,
For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes :
She shall be habited as it becomes
The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
His welcomes forth ; asks thee the son forgiveness, S6o
As 'twere i' the father's person ; kisses the hands
Of your fresh princess ; o'er and o'er divides him
'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness ; the one
He chides to hell and bids the other grow
Faster than thought or time.

Flo. Worthy Camillo,

What colour for my visitation shall I
Hold up before him ?

Cam. Sent by the king your father

To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
The manner of your bearing towards him, with
What you as from your father shall deliver, 57c

544. bring him up to liking, 559- free, willing, eager,

dispose him to approval.

550. To, of. 563. the one (pron. tK one).

362

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Things known betwixt us three, I '11 write you

down :

The which shall point you forth at every sitting
What you must say ; that he shall not perceive
But that you have your father's bosom there
And speak his very heart.

Flo. I am bound to you :

There is some sap in this.

Cam. A course more promising

Than a wild dedication of yourselves
To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most cer
tain

To miseries enough ; no hope to help you,
But as you shake off one to take another ; 580

Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
Do their best office, if they can but stay you
Where you '11 be loath to be : besides you know
Prosperity 's the very bond of love,
Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
Affliction alters.

Per. One of these is true :

I think affliction may subdue the cheek,
But not take in the mind.

Cam. Yea, say you so ?

There shall not at your father's house these seven

years
Be born another such.

Flo. My good Camillo, 590

She is as forward of her breeding as
She is i' the rear o' her birth.

Cam. I cannot say 'tis pity

She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress

572. point you forth, indicate Rowe's correction (ed. i) of Ff

for you. 'our ; Rowe himself in ed. 2

588. take in, overpower. and most later editions before

592. o' her, in respect of her ; the Camb. edd. read our.

363

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

To most that teach.

Per. Your pardon, sir ; for this

I '11 blush you thanks.

Flo. My prettiest Perdita !

But O, the thorns we stand upon ! Camillo,
Preserver of my father, now of me,
The medicine of our house, how shall we do ?
We are not furnislrd like Bohemia's son,
Nor shall appear in Sicilia.

Cam. My lord, 600

Fear none of this : I think you know my fortunes
Do all lie there : it shall be so my care
To have you royally appointed as if
The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
That you may know you shall not want, one word.

[They talk aside.

Re-enter AUTOLYCUS.

Aut. Ha, ha ! what a fool Honesty is ! and
Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentle
man ! I have sold all my trumpery ; not a coun
terfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander,
brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, 610
shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack
from fasting : they throng who should buy first,
as if my trinkets had been hallowed and brought
a benediction to the buyer : by which means I
saw whose purse was best in picture ; and what I
saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown,
who wants but something to be a reasonable man,

598. medicine, physician. 610. table -took, note-boolc

600. appear, sc. to be such. composed of tablets.

604. For instance, as a 615. test in picture, best to

proof. look at, in best condition. The

609. pomander, a ball of Camb. edd. record a plausible

perfumes worn in the pocket or emendation : ' best in pasture,'

about the neck. i.e. best fed."

364

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

grew so in love with the wenches' song, that he
would not stir his pettitoes till he had both tune
and words ; which so drew the rest of the herd to 620
me that all their other senses stuck in ears : you
might have pinched a piacket, it was senseless ;
'twas nothing to geld a codpiece of a purse ; I
could have filed keys off that hung in chains : no
hearing, no feeling, but my sir's song, and ad
miring the nothing of it. So that in this time of
lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival
purses ; and had not the old man come in with a
whoo-bub against his daughter and the king's
son and scared my choughs from the chaff, I had 630
not left a purse alive in the whole army.

\CatnilIo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward.

Cam. Nay, but my letters, by this means being

there
So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.

Flo. And those that you '11 procure from King
Leontes —

Cam. Shall satisfy your father.

Per. Happy be you !

All that you speak shows fair.

Cam. Who have we here ?

[Seeing Autolycus.

We '11 make an instrument of this, omit
Nothing may give us aid.

Aut. If they have overheard me now, why,
hanging. 640

Cam. How now, good fellow ! why shakest
thou so ? Fear not, man ; here 's no harm in
tended to thee.

623. geld a codpiece of a. 625. my sir's, the clown's.

furse, pick a purse from the 629. whoo - bub, clamour,

pocket of the hose, where it was hubbub,

often carried. 637. this, this fellow.

365

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir.

Cam. Why, be so still ; here 's nobody will
steal that from thee : yet for the outside of thy
poverty we must make an exchange ; therefore
disease thee instantly, — thou must think there 's
a necessity in 't, — and change garments with this
gentleman : though the pennyworth on his side 65o
be the worst, yet hold thee, there 's some boot.

Aut. I am a poor fellow, sir. [Aside] I know
ye well enough.

Cam. Nay, prithee, dispatch : the gentleman
is half flayed already.

Aut. Are you in earnest, sir ? [Aside] I smell
the trick on 't.

Flo. Dispatch, I prithee.

Aut. Indeed, I have had earnest; but I can
not with conscience take it. 660

Cam. Unbuckle, unbuckle.

\Florizel and Autolycus exchange garments..
Fortunate mistress, — let my prophecy
Come home to ye ! — you must retire yourself
Into some covert : take your sweetheart's hat
And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
The truth of your own seeming ; that you may —
For I do fear eyes over — to shipboard
Get undescried.

Per. I see the play so lies

That I must bear a part.

Cam. No remedy. 670

Have you done there ?

Flo. Should I now meet my father,

651. some boot, a gift thrown 662. my prophecy, viz. that

in (though Autolycus already hinted in the auspicious phrase

had the best of the bargain). he has just used.

659. earnest, earnest-money, 666. disliken, make unlike,

handsel. disguise.

366

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

He would not call me son.

Cam. Nay, you shall have no hat.

\Giving it to Perdita.
Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.

Aut. Adieu, sir.

Flo. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot !
Pray you, a word.

Cam. [Aside] What I do next, shall be to tell

the king

Of this escape and whither they are bound ;
Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
To force him after : in whose company
I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight 680

I have a woman's longing.

Flo. Fortune speed us !

Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.

Cam. The swifter speed the better.

[Exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo.

Aut. I understand the business, I hear it : to
have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble
hand, is necessary for a cut-purse ; a good nose
is requisite also, to smell out work for the other
senses. I see this is the time that the unjust
man doth thrive. What an exchange had this
been without boot ! What a boot is here with 69o
this exchange ! Sure the gods do this year
connive at us, and we may do any thing ex
tempore. The prince himself is about a piece
of iniquity, stealing away from his father with
his clog at his heels : if I thought it were a
piece of honesty to acquaint the king withal, I
would not do 't : I hold it the more knavery to

692. extempore, i.e. without greater knavery, — the opposite

taking any precautions. course of betraying the prince

695. piece, work, act. being itself, in Autolycus' view,

697. the more knavery, the ' dishonest ' but in a less degree.

367

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

conceal it ; and therein am I constant to my
profession.

Re-enter Clown and Shepherd.

Aside, aside ; here is more matter for a hot
brain : every lane's end, every shop, church, 700
session, hanging, yields a careful man work.

Clo. See, see ; what a man you are now !
There is no other way but to tell the king
she 's a changeling and none of your flesh and
blood.

Shep. Nay, but hear me.

Clo. Nay, but hear me.

Shep. Go to, then.

Clo. She being none of your flesh and blood, 710
your flesh and blood has not offended the king;
and so your flesh and blood is not to be punished
by him. Show those things you found about
her, those secret things, all but what she has
with her : this being done, let the law go whistle :
I warrant you.

Shep. I will tell the king all, every word,
yea, and his son's pranks too ; who, I may say,
is no honest man, neither to his father nor to
me, to go about to make me the king's brother- 720
in-law.

Clo. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest
off you could have been to him and then your
blood had been the dearer by I know how much
an ounce.

Aut. \Aside\ Very wisely, puppies !

Shep. Well, let us to the king : there is that
in this fardel will make him scratch his beard.

Ant. \Asidi\ I know not what impediment
this complaint may be to the flight of my master. 73o

728. fardel, bundle.
368

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

Clo. Pray heartily he be at palace.

Aut. \Aside\ Though I am not naturally
honest, I am so sometimes by chance : let me
pocket up my pedlar's excrement. \Takes off
his false beard^\ How now, rustics ! whither are
you bound ?

Shep. To the palace, an it like your worship.

Aut. Your affairs there, what, with whom,
the condition of that fardel, the place of your
dwelling, your names, your ages, of what having, 740
breeding, and any thing that is fitting to be
known, discover.

Clo. We are but plain fellows, sir.

Aut. A lie ; you are rough and hairy. Let
me have no lying : it becomes none but trades
men, and they often give us soldiers the lie : but
we pay them for it with stamped coin, not
stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us
the lie.

Clo. Your worship had like to have given 750
us one, if you had not taken yourself with the
manner.

Shep. Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir ?

Aut. Whether it like me or no, I am a
courtier. Seest thou not the air of the court
in these enfoldings ? hath not my gait in it the
measure of the court? receives not thy nose
court-odour from me ? reflect I not on thy base
ness court-contempt? Thinkest thou, for that I
insinuate, or toaze from thee thy business, I am 76o
therefore no courtier? I am courtier cap-a-pe ;

731. at palace. Fj has at' 75 1. taken with the manner,

Pallace, probably indicating the taken in the act.

pronunciation at tK palace. 757. measure, stately pace.

734. excrement, outgrowth, 760. toaze, (probably) touse,

beard. pluck. For the preceding or,

739. condition, nature. Fj has at, probably by misprint.

VOL. IV 369 2 B

The Winter's Tale ACTIV

and one that will either push on or pluck back
thy business there : whereupon I Command thee
to open thy affair.

Shep. My business, sir, is to the king.

Aut. What advocate hast thou to him ?

Shep. I know not, an 't like you.

Clo. Advocate 's the court-word for a pheasant :
say you have none.

Shep. None, sir ; I have no pheasant, cock nor 77o
hen.

Aut. How blessed are we that are not simple men !
Yet nature might have made me as -these are,
Therefore I will not disdain.

Clo. This cannot be but a great courtier.

Shep. His garments are rich, but he wears them
not handsomely.

Clo. He seems to be the more noble in being
fantastical : a great man, I '11 warrant ; I know by
the picking on 's teeth. 78o

Aut. The fardel there? what's i' the fardel?
Wherefore that box ?

Shep. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel
and box, which none must know but the king ;
and which he shall know within this hour, if I
may come to the speech of him.

Aut. Age, thou hast lost thy labour.

Shep. Why, sir ?

Aut. The king is not at the palace ; he is gone
aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air 75^
himself: for, if thou beest capable of things serious,
thou must know the king is full of grief.

Shep. So 'tis said, sir ; about his son, that
should have married a shepherd's daughter.

Aut. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let

791. capable of, able to apprehend.
795. hand-fast, confinement.

370

sc. iv The Winter's Tale

him fly : the curses he shall have, the tortures he
shall feel, will break the back of man, the heart
of monster.

Clo. Think you so, sir ?

Aut. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can 800
make heavy and vengeance bitter ; but those that
are germane to him, though removed fifty times,
shall all come under the hangman : which though
it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An old
sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to
have his daughter come into grace ! Some say
he shall be stoned ; but that death is too soft for
him, say I : draw our throne into a she^ep-cote !
all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.

Clo. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you SK>
hear, an't like you, sir?

Aut. He has a son, who shall be flayed alive ;
then 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of
a wasp's nest ; then stand till he be three quarters
and a dram dead ; then recovered again with
aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion ; then, raw
as he is, .and in the hottest day prognostication
proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the
sun looking with a southward eye upon him,
where he is to behold him with flies blown to 820
death. But what talk we of these traitorly rascals,
whose miseries are to be smiled at, their offences
being so capital ? Tell me, for you seem to be
honest plain men, what you have to the king :
being something gently considered, I '11 bring you
where he is aboard, tender your persons to his

805. sheep-whistling, whistling immediate source of Cymbeline,

after, tending. Boccaccio, Dec. ii. 9.

812 f. This description is a

somewhat heightened version of 825. being something gently

the death inflicted on Am- considered, ' for a small con-

brogiuolo, the ' lachimo ' of the sideration. '

67*

The Winter's Tale ACT iv

presence, whisper him in yourbehalfs; and if it be
in man besides the king to effect your suits, here
is man shall do it.

Clo. He seems to be of great authority : close 830
with him, give him gold ; and though authority
be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose
with gold : show the inside of your purse to the
outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember
' stoned,' and ' flayed alive.'

Shep. An 't please you, sir, to undertake the
business for us, here is that gold I have : I '11
make it as much more and leave this young man
in pawn till I bring it you.

Aut. After I have done what I promised? 84o

Shep. Ay, sir.

Aut. Well, give me the moiety. Are you a
party in this business?

Clo. In some sort, sir : but though my case be
a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it.

Aut. O, that 's the case of the shepherd's son :
hang him, he '11 be made an example.

Clo. Comfort, good comfort ! We must to the
king and show our strange sights : he must know
'tis none of your daughter nor my sister ; we are 8SO
gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this
old man does when the business is performed,
and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be
brought you.

Aut. I will trust you. Walk before toward
the sea-side ; go on the right hand : I will but
look upon the hedge and follow you.

Clo. We are blest in this man, as I may say,
even blest.

Shep. Let 's before as he bids us : he was pro- 860
vided to do us good.

\Exeunt Shepherd and Clown.
372

, , .

ACT v The Winter's Tale

Aut. If I had a mind to be honest, I see
Fortune would not suffer me : she drops booties
in my mouth. I am courted now with a double
occasion, gold and a means to do the prince my
master good ; which who knows how that may
turn back to my advancement ? I will bring these
two moles, these blind ones, aboard him : if he
think it fit to shore them again and that the com
plaint they have to the king concerns him nothing, 870
let him call me rogue for being so far officious ;
for I am proof against that title and what shame
else belongs to 't. To him will I present them :
there may be matter in it. \Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I. A room in LEONTES' palace.

Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA,
and Servants.

Cleo. Sir, you have done enough, and have

perform'd

A saint-like sorrow : no fault could you make,
Which you have not redeem'd ; indeed, paid down
More penitence than done trespass : at the last,
Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil ;
With them forgive yourself.

Leon. Whilst I remember

Her and her virtues, I cannot forget

872. / am proof against that against legal arrest and punish-
title. He may be called a rogue ment as a ' rogue and vaga-
by way of abuse, but is secure bond.'

373

The Winter's Tale ACT v

My blemishes in them, and so still think of
The wrong I did myself; which was so much,
That heirless it hath made my kingdom and 10

Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man
Bred his hopes out of.

Paul. True, too true, my lord :

If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or from the all that are took something good,
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd
Would be unparallel'd.

Leon. I think so. Kill'd !

She I kill'd ! I did so : but thou strikest me
Sorely, to say I did ; it is as bitter
Upon thy tongue as in my thought : now, good now,
Say so but seldom.

Cko. Not at all, good lady : 20

You might have spoken a thousand things that

would

Have done the time more benefit and graced
Your kindness better.

Paul. You are one of those

Would have him wed again.

Dion. If you would not so,

You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
Of his most sovereign name ; consider little
What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue,
May drop upon his kingdom and devour
Incertain lookers on. What were more holy
Than to rejoice the former queen is well? 30

What holier than, for royalty's repair,
For present comfort and for future good,
To bless the bed of majesty again
With a sweet fellow to 't ?

Paul. There is none worthy

29. Incertain lookers on, foreseen the danger without
irresolute counsellors who have guarding against it.

374

sc. i The Winter's Tale

Respecting her that 's gone. Besides, the gods

Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes ;

For has not the divine Apollo said,

Is 't not the tenour of his oracle,

That king Leontes shall not have an heir

Till his lost child be found ? which that it shall, 40

Is all as monstrous to our human reason

As my Antigonus to break his grave

And come again to me ; who, on my life,

Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel

My lord should to the heavens be contrary,

Oppose against their wills. \To Leontes, ,] Care

not for issue ;

The crown will find an heir : great Alexander
Left his to the worthiest ; so his successor
Was like to be the best.

Leon. Good Paulina,

Who hast the memory of Hermione, 50

I know, in honour, O, that ever I
Had squared me to thy counsel ! then, even now,
I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes,
Have taken treasure from her lips —

Paul. And left them

More rich for what they yielded.

Leon. Thou speak'st truth.

No more such wives ; therefore, no wife : one worse,
And better used, would make her sainted spirit
Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,
Where we offenders now, appear soul-vex'd,

35. Respecting, in comparison however, even for Shakespeare's

with. later style, and many alterations

have been proposed, the most

59. Where -we offenders now. plausible being, (' Where we

This differs from Ff only in offenders now appear, soul-vex'd}

ending the subordinate sentence begin "And why to me?"'

at now, 'appear' being under- (Capell) ; ' (Where we offenders

stood with it as well as with the move} appear and begin ' (Deiius

principal. The ellipsis is harsh, conj.)

375

The Winter's Tale ACTV

And begin, ' Why to me ? '

Paul. Had she such power, 60

She had just cause.

Leon. She had ; and would incense me

To murder her I married.

Paul. I should so.

Were I the ghost that walk'd, I 'Id bid you mark
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in 't
You chose her ; then I 'Id shriek, that even your

ears

Should rift to hear me ; and the words that follow'd
Should be ' Remember mine.'

Leon. Stars, stars,

And all eyes else dead coals ! Fear thou no wife ;
I '11 have no wife, Paulina.

Paul. Will you swear

Never to marry but by my free leave ? 7o

Leon. Never, Paulina ; so be blest my spirit !

Paul. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his
oath.

Cleo. You tempt him over-much.

Paul. Unless another,

As like Hermione as is her picture,
Affront his eye.

C*'eo. Good madam, —

Paul. I have done.

Yet, if my lord will marry, — if you will, sir,
No remedy, but you will, — give me the office
To choose you a queen : she shall not be so young
As was your former ; but she shall be such
As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take
joy 80

60. ' Why to me?' sc. this And why to me this ? thou lame god

humiliation. The Camb. edds. IT. of ,fire> T

., , What have I done thus to provoke

compare the opening of Jonson s tj,y ;re •>

Execration upon Vulcan:— ^ Affront> confront.

376

sc. i The Winter's Tale

To see her in your arms.

Leon. My true Paulina,

We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.

Paul. That

Shall be when your first queen 's again in breath ;
Never till then.

Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she
The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access
To your high presence.

Leon. What with him ? he comes not

Like to his father's greatness : his approach,
So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us 9o

'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced
By need and accident. What train ?

Gent. But few,

And those but mean.

Leon. His princess, say you, with him?

Gent. Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I

think,
That e'er the sun shone bright on.

Paul. O Hermione,

As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better gone, so must thy grave
Give way to what 's seen now ! Sir, you yourself
Have said and writ so, but your writing now
Is colder than that theme, ' She had not been, I0o
Nor was not to be equall'd ; ' — thus your verse
Flow'd with her beauty once : 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
To say you have seen a better.

84. a Gentleman. Theobald's 90. out of circumstance, with-

alteration for Ff a Servant ; the out ceremony,
context (v. 98 f) implying a
higher rank 100. that theme, Hermione.

377

The Winter's Tale ACTV

Gent. Pardon, madam :

The one I have almost forgot, — your pardon, —
The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
Of all professors else, make proselytes
Of who she but bid follow.

Paul. How ! not women ?

Gent. Women will love her, that she is a woman no
More worth than any man ; men, that she is
The rarest of all women.

Leon. Go, Cleomenes ;

Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
Bring them to our embracement. Still, 'tis strange
\Exeunt Cleomenes and others.
He thus should steal upon us.

Paul. Had our prince,

Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd
Well with this lord : there was not full a month
Between their births.

Leon. Prithee, no more ; cease ; thou know'st
He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure, 120

When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
Will bring me to consider that which may
Unfurnish me of reason. They are come.

Re-enter CLEOMENES and others, with
FLORIZEL and PERDITA.

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince ;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you : were I but twenty one,
Your father's image is so hit in you,
His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him, and speak of something wildly
By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome ! 130
And your fair princess, — goddess ! — O, alas !
378

sc. i The Winter's Tale

I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth
Might thus have stood begetting wonder as
You, gracious couple, do : and then I lost —
All mine own folly — the society,
Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look on him.

Flo. By his command

Have I here touch'd Sicilia and from him
Give you all greetings that a king, at friend, 14°

Can send his brother : and, but infirmity
Which waits upon worn times hath something seized
His wish'd ability, he had himself
The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
Measured to look upon you ; whom he loves —
He bade me say so — more than all the sceptres
And those that bear them living.

Leon. O my brother,

Good gentleman ! the wrongs I have done thee stir
Afresh within me, and these thy offices,
So rarely kind, are as interpreters 150

Of my behind-hand slackness. Welcome hither,
As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too
Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage,
At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
The adventure of her person ?

Flo. Good my lord,

She came from Libya.

Leon. Where the warlike Smalus,

That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and loved ?

Flo. Most royal sir, from thence ; from him,
whose daughter

138. him, an idiomatic repeti- 140. at friend, as being on

tion of the object already ex- friendly terms, in friendship,
pressed in the relative 'whom.'

379

The Winter's Tale ACT v

His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her : thence, 160

A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd,

To execute the charge my father gave me

For visiting your highness : my best train

I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd ;

Who for Bohemia bend, to signify

Not only my success in Libya, sir,

But my arrival and my wife's in safety

Here where we are.

Leon. The blessed gods

Purge all infection from our air whilst you
Do climate here ! You have a holy father, 170

A graceful gentleman ; against whose person,
So sacred as it is, I have done sin :
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me issueless ; and your father 's blest,
As he from heaven merits it, with you
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you !

Enter a Lord.

Lord. Most noble sir,

That which I shall report will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir, 180
Bohemia greets you from himself by me ;
Desires you to attach his son, who has —
His dignity and duty both cast off —
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd's daughter.

Leon. Where 's Bohemia ? speak.

170. climate, sojourn under good gifts.

our skies (properly : under the 172. sacred, i.e. in virtue of

particular ' climate ' or region of his royalty, the epithet being

the heavens which is above this currently applied to all sovereigns

place). as such.

171. graceful, graced with all 182. attach arrest.

380

sc. i The Winter's Tale

Lord. Here in your city ; I now came from him :
I speak amazedly ; and it becomes
My marvel and my message. To your court
While he was hastening, in the chase, it seems
Of this fair couple, meets he on the way
The father of this seeming lady and
Her brother, having both their country quitted
With this young prince.

Flo. Camillo has betray'd me ;

Whose honour and whose honesty till now
Endured all weathers.

Lord. Lay 't so to his charge :

He 's with the king your father.

Leon. Who ? Camillo ?

Lord. Camillo, sir ; I spake with him ; who now
Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
Wretches so quake : they kneel, they kiss the

earth ;

Forswear themselves as often as they speak :
Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
With divers deaths in death.

Per. O my poor father !

The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
Our contract* celebrated.

Leon. You are married ?

Flo. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be ;
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first :
The odds for high and low 's alike.

Leon. My lord,

Is this the daughter of a king?

Flo. She is,

When once she is my wife.

Leon. That ' once,' I see by your good father's

speed,

Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
187. amazedly, confusedly.
381

The Winter's Tale ACTV

Most sorry, you have broken from his liking
Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry
Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
That you might well enjoy her.

Flo. Dear, look up :

Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
Should chase us with my father, power no jot
Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,
Remember since you owed no more to time
Than I do now : with thought of such affections, 220
Step forth mine advocate ; at your request
My father will grant precious things as trifles.

Leon. Would he do so, I 'Id beg your precious

mistress,
Which he counts but a trifle.

Paul. Sir, my liege,

Your eye hath too much youth in 't : not a month
'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such

gazes
Than what you look on now.

Leon. I thought of her,

Even in these looks I made. \To Florizel^\ But

your petition

Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father :
Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires, 230

I am friend to them and you : upon which errand
I now go toward him ; therefore follow me
And mark what way I make : come, good my
lord. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Before LEONTES' palace.

Enter AUTOLYCUS and a Gentleman.

Aut. Beseech you, sir, were you present at
this relation ?

382

The Winter's Tale

Gent. I was by at the opening of the
fardel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner
how he found it : whereupon, after a little amazed-
ness, we were all commanded out of the chamber ;
only this methought I heard the shepherd say, he
found the child.

Aut. I would most gladly know the issue of it.

First Gent. I make a broken delivery of the 10
business ; but the changes I perceived in the king
and Camillo were very notes of admiration : they
seemed almost, with staring on one another, to
tear the cases of their eyes ; there was speech in
their dumbness, language in their very gesture;
they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed,
or one destroyed : a notable passion of wonder
appeared in them ; but the wisest beholder, that
knew no more but seeing, could not say if the
importance were joy or sorrow ; but in the ex- 2o
tremity of the one, it must needs be.

Enter another Gentleman.

Here comes a gentleman that haply knows more.
The news, Rogero ?

Sec. Gent. Nothing but bonfires : the oracle is
fulfilled ; the king's daughter is found : such a
deal of wonder is broken out within this hour that
ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.

Enter a third Gentleman.

Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward : he can
deliver you more. How goes it now, sir? this
news which is called true is so like an old tale, 30
that the verity of it is in strong suspicion : has
the king found his heir ?

20. importance, import.
383

. J,.,'^ \A. '\*++* <&.}}"

The Winter's Tale

Third Gent. Most true, if ever truth were
pregnant by circumstance : that which you hear
you '11 swear you see, there is such unity in the
proofs. The mantle of Queen Hermione's, her
jewel about the neck of it, the letters of Antigonus
found with it which they know to be his character,
the majesty of the creature in resemblance of the
mother, the affection of nobleness which nature 4o
shows above her breeding, and many other evi
dences proclaim her with all certainty to be the
king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the
two kings ?

Sec. Gent. No.

Third Gent. Then have you lost a sight, which
was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might
you have beheld one joy crown another, so and
in such manner that it seemed sorrow wept to take
leave of them, for their joy waded in tears. There 50
was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands, with
countenance of such distraction that they were to
be known by garment, not by favour. Our king,
being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his
found daughter, as if that joy were now become a
loss, cries ' O, thy mother, thy mother ! ' then asks
Bohemia forgiveness ; then embraces his son-in-
law; then again worries he his daughter with
clipping her ; now he thanks the old shepherd,
which stands by like a weather-bitten conduit of 60
many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another
encounter, which lames report to follow it and
undoes description to do it.

34. pregnant, made evident 60. weather - bitten, so Ff.

(with a play on the ordinary Some mod. edd. alter without

sense). need to -weather-beaten, in the

40. affection, natural disposi- same sense.
tion, strain. 62. encounter, meeting.

59. clipping, embracing. 63. do, express.

384

-*— A wA-^ji^A Mj— „ t

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

Sec. Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus,
that carried hence the child ?

Third Gent. Like an old tale still, which will
have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep
and not an ear open. He was torn to pieces with
a bear : this avouches the shepherd's son ; who
has not only his innocence, which seems much, to 70
justify him, but a handkerchief and rings of his
that Paulina knows.

First Gent. What became of his bark and his
followers ?

Third Gent. Wrecked the same instant of
their master's death and in the view of the
shepherd : so that all the instruments which aided
to expose the child were even then lost when it
was found. But O, the noble combat that 'twixt
joy and sorrow was fought in Paulina ! She had 80
one eye declined for the loss of her husband,
another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled : she
lifted the princess from the earth, and so locks
her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her
heart that she might no more be in danger of losing.

First Gent. The dignity of this act was worth
the audience of kings and princes ; for by such
was it acted.

Third Gent. One of the prettiest touches of
all and that which angled for mine eyes, caught 90
the water though not the fish, was when, at the
relation of the queen's death, with the manner how
she came to 't bravely confessed and lamented
by the king, how attentiveness wounded his
daughter ; till, from one sign of dolour to another,
she did, with an 'Alas/ I would fain say, bleed
tears, for I am sure my heart wept blood. Who
was most marble there changed colour; some

67. rehearse, repeat. 70. innocence, simplicity.

VOL. IV 385 2 c

tAft_< fc • ~— **'-*- --^xw* . *

The Winter's Tale ACT v

swooned, all sorrowed : if all the world could
have seen 't, the woe had been universal. 100

First Gent. Are they returned to the court ?

Third Gent. No : the princess hearing of her
mother's statue, which is in the keeping of
Paulina, — a piece many years in doing and now
newly performed by that rare Italian master,
Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and
could put breath into his work, would beguile
Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape :
he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that
they say one would speak to her and stand in hope no
of answer : thither with all greediness of affection
are they gone, and there they intend to sup.

Sec. Gent. I thought she had some great matter
there in hand ; for she hath privately twice or
thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione,
visited that removed house. Shall we thither and
with our company piece the rejoicing?

First Gent. Who would be thence that has
the benefit of access ? every wink of an eye some
new grace will be born : our absence makes us 120
unthrifty to our knowledge. Let 's along.

\Exeunt Gentlemen.

Aut. Now, had I not the dash of my former
life in me, would preferment drop on my head.

104. piece, work of art. son's The Magnetic Lady : —

105. performed, completed. Rut rd have had statu£ cut now in

106. Julio Romano. Giuho white marble.

Romano ( 1499-1546), a follower Sir Moth. And have it painted in

of Raphael, is known only as a ,,m,os™ric,nt .c°J°Vrs;, •

, . * Rut. That s right ! all city statues

painter. The ' statue, however, raust be painted,

was supposed (v. 3. 47) to be Else they be worth nought in their

painted. This practice, de- subtle judgment,

nounced by the traveller Wotton 117. piece, pieceout, complete,

as an 'English barbarism,' found 120. grace, blessing,

favour with civic authorities. 121. unthrifty to, neglectful

The commentators quote Jon- of enriching.

386

\ O

sc. ii The Winter's Tale

I brought the old man and his son aboard the
prince ; told him I heard them talk of a fardel
and I know not what : but he at that time, over-
fond of the shepherd's daughter, so he then took
her to be, who began to be much sea-sick, and
himself little better, extremity of weather continu
ing, this mystery remained undiscovered. But 'tis 130
all one to me ; for had I been the finder out
of this secret, it would not have relished among
my other discredits.

Enter Shepherd and Clown.

Here come those I have done good to against
my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of
their fortune.

Shep. Come, boy ; I am past moe children, but
thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

Clo. You are well met, sir. You denied to
fight with me this other day, because I was no 140
gentleman born. See you these clothes ? say you
see them not and think me still no gentleman
born : you were best say these robes are not gentle
men born : give me the lie, do, and try whether I
am not now a gentleman born.

Aut. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.

Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these
four hours.

Shep. And so have I, boy.

Clo. So you have : but I was a gentleman born 150
before my father ; for the king's son took me by
the hand, and called me brother ; and then the two
kings called my father brother ; and then the prince
my brother and the princess my sister called my
father father ; and so we wept, and there was the
first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.

Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more.

387

The Winter's Tale ACT v

Clo. Ay ; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so
preposterous estate as we are.

Aut. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon 160
me all the faults I have committed to your wor
ship and to give me your good report to the
prince my master.

Shep. Prithee, son, do ; for we must be gentle,
now we are gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life ?

Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship.

Clo. Give me thy hand : \ will swear to the
prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is
in Bohemia. 170

Shep. You may say it, but not swear it.

Clo. Not swear it, now \ am a gentleman?
Let boors and franklins say it, I'll swear it.

Shep. How if it be false, son ?

Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman
may swear it in the behalf of his friend : and I '11
swear to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy
hands and that thou wilt not be drunk ; but I
know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and
that thou wilt be drunk : but I '11 swear it, and I 180
would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.

Aut. I will prove so, sir, to my power.

Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow : if
I do not wonder how thou darest venture to be
drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not.
Hark ! the kings and the princes, our kindred,
are going to see the queen's picture. Come,
follow us : we '11 be thy good masters. [Exeunt.

159. preposterous, a blunder 177. a tall fellow of thy hands,

for ' prosperous. ' an active, able-bodied man, who

J73- franklins, yeomen. will stand the test.

388

v
sc. in The Winter's Tale

SCENE III. A chapel in PAULINA'S house.

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA,
CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants.

Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great

comfort
That I ha*e had of thee !

Paul. What, sovereign sir,

I did not well I meant well. All my services
You have paid home : but that you have vouch

safed,
With your crown'd brother and these your con

tracted

Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
It is a surplus of your grace, which never
My life may last to answer.

Leon. O Paulina,

We honour you with trouble : but we came
To see the statue of our queen : your gallery
Have we pass'd through, not without much con

tent

In many singularities ; but we saw not
That which my daughter came to look upon,
.The statue of her mother.

Paul. As she lived peerless,

So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon
Or hand of man hath done ; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart. But here it is : prepare
To see the life as lively mock'd as ever
Still sleep mock'd death : behold, and say 'tis well.
\Paulina draws a curtain, and discovers
Hermione standing like a statue.
7. surplus, overplus. 12. singularities, rarities.

389

-J- >» *-"-* -.-^-vA. ^ V- —

The Winter's Tale ACTV

I like your silence, it the more shows off

Your wonder : but yet speak ; first, you, my liege.

Comes it not something near?

Leon. Her natural posture !

Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
Thou art Hermione ; or rather, thou art she
In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this seems.

Pol. O, not by much.

Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence ; 30
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes

her
As she lived now.

Leon. As now she might have done,

So much to my good comfort, as it is
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty, warm life,
As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her !
I am ashamed : does not the stone rebuke me
For being more stone than it ? O royal piece
There 's magic in thy majesty, which has
My evils conjured to remembrance and 40

From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee.

Per. And give me leave,

And do not say 'tis superstition, that
I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady,
Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kiss.

Paul. O, patience !

The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour :s
Not dry.

Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, so

39°

sc. in The Winter's Tale •*• -

So many summers dry : scarce any joy
Did ever so long live ; no sorrow
But kill'd itself much sooner.

Pol. Dear my brother,

Let him that was the cause of this have power
To take off so much grief from you as he
Will piece up in himself.

Paul. Indeed, my lord,

If I had thought the sight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought you, — for the stone is

mine —
I 'Id not have show'd it.

Leon. Do not draw the curtain.

Paul. No longer shall you gaze on 't, lest your

fancy 60

May think anon it moves.

Leon. Let be, let be.

Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already —
What was he that did make it ? See, my lord,
Would you not deem it breathed ? and that those

veins
Did verily bear blood ?

Pol. Masterly done :

The very life seems warm upon her lip.

Leon. The fixure of her eye has motion in 't,
As we are mock'd with art.

Paul. I '11 draw the curtain :

My lord 's almost so far transported that
He '11 think anon it lives.

Leon. O sweet Paulina, 70

Make me to think so twenty years together !
No settled senses of the world can match
The pleasure of that madness. Let 't alone.

Paul. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd
you : but

56. piece up, ' hoard up, so as to have his fill.'

391

The Winter's Tale ACTV

I could afflict you farther.

Leon. Do, Paulina ;

For this affliction has a taste as sweet
As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks,
There is an air comes from her : what fine chisel
Could ever yet cut breath ? Let no man mock me,
For I will kiss her.

Paul. Good my lord, forbear : go

The ruddiness upon her lip is wet ;
You '11 mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain ?

Leon. No, not these twenty years.

Per. So long could I

Stand by, a looker on.

Paul. Either forbear,

Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
For more amazement. If you can behold it,
I '11 make the statue move indeed, descend
And take you by the hand : but then you '11 think —
Which I protest against — I am assisted 90

By wicked powers.

Leon. What you can make her do,

I am content to look on : what to speak,
I am content to hear ; for 'tis as easy
To make her speak as move.

Paul. It is required

You do awake your faith. Then all stand still ;
On : those that think it is unlawful business
I am about, let them depart.

Leon. Proceed :

No foot shall stir.

Paul. Music, awake her ; strike ! [Music.

'Tis time ; descend ; be stone no more ; approach :
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 100
I '11 fill your grave up : stir, nay, come away,

100. look ufon, look on.
392

sc. in The Winter's Tale

Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs :

\Hermione comes down.
Start not ; her actions shall be holy as
You hear my spell is lawful : do not shun her
Until you see her die again ; for then
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand :
When she was young you woo'd her ; now in age
Is she become the suitor ?

Leon. O, she 's warm !

If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.

Pol. She embraces him

Cam. She hangs about his neck.:
If she pertain to life let her speak too.

Pol. Ay, and make't manifest where she has

lived,
Or how stolen from the dead.

Paul. That she is living,

Were it but told you, should be hooted at
Like an old tale : but it appears she lives,
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
Please you to interpose, fair madam : kneel
And pray your mother's blessing. Turn, good

lady;
Our Perdita is found.

Her. You gods, look down

And from your sacred vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter's head ! Tell me, mine own,
Where hast thou been preserved ? where lived ?

how found

Thy father's court ? for thou shalt hear that I,
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved
Myself to see the issue.

Paul. There 's time enough for that ;

393

The Winter's Tale ACT v

Lest they desire upon this push to trouble

Your joys with like relation. Go together, i30

You precious winners all ; your exultation

Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,

Will wing me to some wither'd bough and there

My mate, that 's never to be found again,

Lament till I am lost.

Leon. O, peace, Paulina !

Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
As I by thine a wife : this is a match,
And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found

mine :

But how, is to be question'd : for I saw her,
As I thought, dead, and have in vain said many 140
A prayer upon her grave. I '11 not seek far —
For him, I partly know his mind — to find thee
An honourable husband. Come, Camillo,
And take her by the hand, whose worth and

honesty

Is richly noted and here justified
By us, a pair of kings. Let 's from this place.
What ! look upon my brother : both your pardons,
That e'er I put between your holy looks
My ill suspicion. This' your son-in-law
And son unto the king, whom heavens directing, 150
Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,
Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely
Each one demand and answer to his part
Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first
We were dissever'd : hastily lead away.

[Exeunt.

129. upon this push, incited reputed,
by your story. 149. This', this is.

131. precious-winners, winners 150. whom heavens directing.

of what you prize. ' Who, ' the subject of is, is made

145. richly noted, highly the object of 'heavens directing.'

394

THE TEMPEST

395

DRAMATIS PERSONS

ALONSO, King of Naples.

SEBASTIAN, his brother.

PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan.

ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.

FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples.

GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor.

ADRIAN, ~\ T

FRANCISCO, /Lords-

CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.

TRINCULO, a Jester.

STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.

Master of a Ship.

Boatswain.

Mariners.

MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero.

ARIEL, an airy Spirit.

IRIS,

CERES,

JUNO,

Nymphs,

Reapers,

^presented by Spirits.

Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
SCENE : A ship at Sea : an island.

DURATION OF TIME

The action occupies three or four hours of a single day,
probably beginning about 2 P.M. (I. 2. 239, 240.)

396 '

INTRODUCTION

•

THE TEMPEST, like most of Shakespeare's later plays,i
was first printed in the Folio edition of 1623, where'
it occupies the first place. It had then been, for
at least ten years, one of his most popular and reputed
pieces.

It was among the eighteen plays (six at least of
them by Shakespeare) chosen for performance during
the wedding festivities of the Palsgrave and the
Princess Elizabeth in February I6I3.1 Beyond this
fact we have no direct evidence of its date.2 But it
is extremely probable that the title contains an allusion
to a tempest which wrecked Sir George Somers' ship,
the 'Sea Venture,' in July 1609; and that various
circumstances are drawn from the narratives after
wards published by Silvester Jourdain, one of the
survivors, in October 1610, and by William Strachey,
at a date which has not been precisely determined. .
The limits — October i6ioand February 1613 — thus

1 Lord Treasurer Stanhope's 'Cardenno.1

Accounts (quoted in Century of 2 In the Induction to his

Shaktifeanfs Praise, p. 103). Bartholomew Fair, 1614, Ben

The exact number of Shake- Jonson delivered a passing gibe

speare's plays given depends at ' those that beget Tales,

upon the identification of ' Hot- Tempests, and such like Drol-

spur ' with Henry IV. and of leries,' and ' If there be never

'Sir John Falstaff' with this or a Servant-master i' the Fayre

7^ Merry Wives, He prob- who can help it ? ' But this

ably had a share also in the adds nothing to our knowledge.

397

The Tempest

arrived at, are entirely confirmed by the internal
evidence.

In style and metre The Tempest shares all the
characteristics which place Pericles, Tlie Winter s
Tale, and Cymbeline very near the close of Shake
speare's work. The same proneness to metrical
movements which cross the normal verse-rhythm or
enrich it with double endings ; x the same abruptness
_of transition and elliptical brevity of phrase. Evident
Taffinities of treatment, though less decisive, help to
cement this connection : the separation and reunion
of kin, the deliberate unreality of time and place,
the bold implication of sea and storm in the web of
the dramatic plot, the episodes of gracious idyll, the
lofty humanity of the close. The one fragment of
Shakespearean work clearly later in metrical character
than The Tempest is his portion of Henry VIII.
The Winter's Tale and Cymbeline cannot be later
than 1611, when they were performed at the Globe
most probably as new plays. Henry VIII. is known
to have been a new play in 1613. The Tempest is
therefore unlikely to have been produced much before
or much after the earlier date.

This is the chief ground of hesitation in regard to
the only really plausible counter-suggestion which has
ever been made.2 Dr. Garnett, taking up an idea
already mooted by the older critics, but never before

1 The ' metrical tests ' give theory of Elze, who placed The
The Tempest 35 per cent of Tempest in 1604, because Jonson
double endings, 41 per cent of in the prologue to Irolpone(i6o^]
enjambements, 4.59 per cent of referred to thefts from Montaigne
light or weak endings ; the (as if in allusion to Gonzalo's
first is the highest proportion of 'republic' in ii. i). The earlier
all the plays, the second and theory of Hunter, who identified
third the highest but three. The Tempest with the ' Love's

Labour's Won ' mentioned by

2 It is impossible to qualify Meres in 1598, is now quite
this assertion in favour of the out of count.

398

Introduction

so effectively pushed home, holds that the recorded
performance of The Tempest at the wedding festivities
of the Princess Elizabeth was in reality the original
one, that it was written expressly for the occasion,
and that the circumstances of the marriage are alle-
gorically figured in its plot. 'The foreign prince
come from beyond sea, the island princess who
has never left her home, the wise father who brings
about the auspicious consummation of his policy ;
all found their counterparts among the splendid com
pany that watched the performance on that February
night.' l The parallel so far is striking, but it cannot
be pursued much further without the aid of a some
what questionable ingenuity. When, for example, a
delicate allusion to the recent death of Prince Henry,
the brother of the bride, is discovered in the supposed
death of Ferdinand, the bridegroom — ' the woe being
by a consummate stroke of genius taken from Prospero
the representative of James, and transferred to the
house of his enemy,' — we suspect the hand of the
critical necromancer who can make anything of any
thing. It may well be asked, too, whether a plot
' which revolves about the forcible expulsion of a
ruler from his dominions and his daughter's wooing
by the son of the usurper's chief ally,' was ' one that
a shrewd dramatist would have chosen as the setting
of an official epithalamium in honour of the daughter
of a monarch so sensitive about his title to the crown
as James I.' 2 And was the fanatical denouncer of
'those detestable slaves of the devil, — witches and
enchanters ' 3 — likely to appreciate the compliment
of being ' represented ' even by the most sublime
magician in all literature ?

1 Universal Review, "April art. ' Shakespeare, ' p. 379.
1889. 3 James I.'s Demonology,

2 S. Lee, Diet, of Nat. Biog. Preface.

399

The Tempest

It is, nevertheless, highly probable that The Tempest
was designed to celebrate a marriage. A wedding
masque occupies, with its insubstantial pageantry,
the place of a strict dramatic crisis ; and the hints
of tragic harms, instead of being carried almost to
the point of tragedy, as in The Winter's Tale and
Cymbeline^ are,- like Ferdinand's log-piling, little more
than a transparent make-believe. The real tragedy
of Prospero's expulsion is an event already in the
remote past when the action begins, and, though its
results remain, they are so carefully denuded of
pathetic suggestion that the island appears a very
4 paradise of exiles.'

Nothing is known of the immediate source from
which Shakespeare drew the story of The Ten. pest ;
but there is no doubt that it had already in substance
been told. Among the waifs of historic tradition
which drifted westward from the east of Europe was
the story of Witold, a prince of Lithuania in the
last quarter of the fourteenth century. Witold had
resigned his government to a. cousin Jagiello, who
thereupon threw him into prison and handed over
his capital, Wilna, to one Skirgiello. In 1388, how
ever, Witold escaped with his daughter Sophia to
Prussia, whence he carried on an indecisive struggle
with Jagiello and Skirgiello for his inheritance. In
this struggle he was supported by the avant-guard of
eastern Christendom, the Teutonic Order; and in
particular by the contingent of English soldiers who
followed Henry Bolingbroke on one of those Reisen
into Prussia, which were already familiar enough in
England to be known by their German name.1
Henry was thus brought into direct contact with

1 Chaucer's knight ' reised in nary "vogue ; cf. the modern
Lettowe." The formation of French and German boycotter,
the verb implies an extraordi- boycotten.

400

Introduction

Witold, and the Lithuanian prince found a place in
the English chronicles which related the adventures
of the future English king.1

Perhaps aided by this association with the Teu
tonic Order, the figure of the disinherited Lithuanian
prince seems to have appealed to the romantic im
agination of the West, and gathered a rich accretion
of legendary traits. When we meet with him again
two centuries later as the Prince Ludolff of Jacob
Ayrer's drama Die schone Sidea, he has become a
magician, with an attendant spirit, Runcifal. Driven
from his throne by his rival, Prince Leudegast, he
takes refuge in the forest with his only daughter,
Sidea. There one day he suddenly encounters
Engelbrecht, the son of Leudegast, summons him to
yield, and, on his resisting, charms his sword, paralyses
his nerves, and compels him to carry logs for his
daughter. Finally, after many irrelevant adventures,
Engelbrecht marries Sidea, and their union brings
about the reconciliation of the rival princes.

English actors were well acquainted with Niirnberg
long before the date of The Tempest? and Shake
speare may conceivably have heard some report of
Ayrer's suggestive plot, though he assuredly had no
opportunity of being repelled by its barbarous literary
garb. But it is plain that, whether as floating tradition,
or contemporary information, or in the form of some
lost Elizabethan play, a story embodying all the
points in which Ayrer anticipates The Tempest, served

1 Walsingham, Hist. Angli- Expeditions (Camden Society,

can a, Rolls ed. ii. 197-8. Wit- 1894). The connection with

old appears as Wytot, Skirgiello The Tempest was first made

as Skit-gall. Knighton and probable by Caro, Englische

Capgrave have briefer notices. Studien, 1878.

All are quoted at length in Miss 2 They are known to have

L. T. Smith's admirably edited acted there in 1604 and 1606.

accounts of The Earl of Derby s Ayrer died in 1605.

VOL. IV 401 2 D

The Tempest

as material for the wonderful 'sea-change' there
wrought.

The phrase is not without meaning, for half the
fascination of the drama springs from the wild waters,
roaring or allayed, which ' round ' the enchanter's
abode. Whatever rudiments of Prospero he may
have found in tradition, Shakespeare first made his
refuge an island, and the instrument of his revenge
a storm. The story of the sea which caught the
ear of England in 1610 perhaps supplied the first
suggestion of the drama. Certainly it offered tempt
ing coigns of vantage on which to lodge a story of
enchantment. Many of its incidents, as told by
Strachey and Jourdain, have evidently contributed to
the description of the wreck and of the island. The
admiral's ship, like Alonso's, was separated from his
fleet and cast away, as the world for months believed,
on the desolate island of ' Bermudas ' ; a spot ' never
inhabited by any Christian or heathen people,' but
only by ' witches and devils ' ; 1 thence ' ever esteemed
and reputed a most prodigious and inchanted place,'2
habitually known as ' the He of Divels ' ; 3 and not
less dreaded for the ' accustomed monstrous thunder
storms and tempests ' l by which it was ' still-vexed.'
When, in October 1610, the actual story was pub
lished, it was discovered that the crew of the ' Sea
Venture,' after giving up all for lost, had been saved
as by miracle, the ship being ' driven and jammed
between two rocks, fast lodged and locked for further
budging,' so that all got ashore, contriving even to
land 'many a bottle of beer,' and hogshead of oil
and wine. Actual marvels were not wanting. For
the admiral, being upon the watch on the night of the
wreck, ' had an apparition of a little round light, like

1 Howe's continuation of 2 Jourdain.
Stove's Annals, quot. by Delius. 3 Jourdain' s title.

402

Introduction

a faint star, trembling and streaming along with a
sparkling blaze, half the height upon the main-mast,
and shooting sometimes from shroud to shroud, tempt
ing to settle as it were upon any of the four shrouds.' l
Nevertheless, when the ship's company set foot upon
the dreaded island, they found ' the ayre temperate
. . . and the country abundantly fruitfull.'2 But
the ' divels ' which they did not find they bred ; for
' divers discontents nourished amongst us had like to
have been the parents of bloody issues and mischiefs.'3
Something like a first sketch was here given of
Shakespeare's shipwreck, a hint of the bickerings
and conspiracies of the crew, and some elementary
suggestions of the island scenery. Here, for the first
and last time, Shakespeare touched that world of
sea-marvel which it was reserved for the poet of
The Ancient Mariner finally to annex to English
poetry. The sea- wonders of the inland -bred poet
are not evolved, like those of Coleridge, from the
horrors of solitary wandering in 'a wide, wide sea.'
They belong to the sea only in its dealings with the
shore, to the seafarer only in his dealings with
strange lands. Elves and sea-nymphs dance with
printless foot upon the yellow sands and toll the
knell of the drowned ; unseen spirits mock the
stranded seamen with the semblance of baying watch
dogs and crowing cocks in farms on shore. And
all the subtle poetic suggestiveness of the enchanted
legend of the Bermudas seems to have been cunningly
distilled in Ariel — the spirit of wind and fire, who
sweeps the ship irresistibly to its ' deep nook ' on
the shore, and 'flames amazement' on its masts.4

1 Strachey. Shakespeare as ' an ayrie spirit'

2 Jourdain. may have been taken from the

3 Howe's continuation of great popular repertory of super-
Stov/e'sAnnats, quot. by Delius. natural lore, Heywood's Hicr-

4 The name Ariel, glossed by archy of Angels. But the

4°3

The Tempest

Shakespeare's island, however, is much more than
a poetically sublimated ' Isle of Divels.' 1 To the
supernatural prodigies of the uninhabited Bermudas
was added a sample of the human wonders of the
new world, of the aborigines and ' strange fishes '
which the Elizabethan townsman gaped at as they
were landed in the little havens of Dorset and
Devon, or paid his ten doits to see in the booths
of a country fair. Both aspects of the Isle are
cunningly compounded and transcended in the ' fish-
like man-monster, offspring of a devil and a witch.' 2

Into this scenery Shakespeare has transported the
traditional story of the banished prince, blending
them in a marvellously harmonious whole.

The haunted island is subdued to the art of
Prospero, and an undisciplined democracy of irre
sponsible spirits turned into a despotically ordered
realm. Ariel becomes his minister and Caliban his
slave, and his enemies from first to last are merely
automatons of his art. Power so absolute, so un
shadowed by a suspicion of remorse or fear, belongs
to romance rather than to drama. In this romantic
absoluteness Prospero differs from all other enchanters
of the Elizabethan stage. There is as little trace in
him of the tragic compunctions and misdoubts of

character is Shakespeare's own, i. 2. 229 it is expressly distin-

1 Ariel ' being there associated guished.

with ' Earth. ' 2 The name of Sycorax has

1 That it was not meant liter- not been explained. W. W.

ally to be ' the Bermudas ' or any Lloyd too learnedly interpreted

other earthly island is obvious it as \f/vxopp^^, ' heart-breaker. '

from the deliberate blending of Lamb identified her with a

the geography of the Mediter- historical witch of Algiers. The

ranean with the marvels of the name Setebos was taken from

Indies. Resolute efforts were Eden's History of Travayle

made by the older critics to fix (1577), where it is the name of

its site in Lampedusa (Hunter, a Patagonian god. Several of

Douce), Corcyra (Bell), or the the names of the shipwrecked

Bermudas, from which last in courtiers likewise occur there.
404

Introduction

Faustus as of the impostures of Jonson's Alchemist.
Nor does it occur to any one in the drama to
question the lawfulness of his art. Antonio himself
had never thought, like Caliban in Renari's brilliant
sequel, of inviting the Inquisition to deal with the
secret student of necromancy. But Prospero is de
tached as completely from the traditional aims of
magic as from its actual perils. If he was originally
prompted to it, like Faustus, by the Humanist's passion
for knowledge and power, he has long been emanci
pated, as Faustus never is, from the egoism of either
passion, and uses his giant's strength, like adivine provi
dence, first to bring a crew of criminals to justice, and
then to extend to them the 'rarer virtue of mercy.'
Before this, in tragedy, and in the quasi-tragic comedy I
of Measure for Measure, Shakespeare had drawn with ,
pathos, or with irony, the endeavours of a Brutus, or
a Vincentio, to take arms against evil. Prospero,
the creation of a serener mood, clearly stands on a
different plane of reality. More daringly detached*
from experience than any other purely human char
acter in Shakespeare, he is drawn with a seriousness
of conviction, and charged with a wealth of ethical
suggestion, which belong in poetry only to the
0-KLa.t rwv OVTIOV, the shadows of things that are.
That more is symbolised than expressed in him every
one feels. It is rash to define too peremptorily
Shakespeare's thoughts ; but that wonderful first
decade of the seventeenth century, which had wit
nessed Shakespeare's achieved creation and Bacon's
hardly less stupendous vision of discovery, could
hardly have found an apter emblematic close.

Prospero makes the enchantments of the island the
instruments of his art ; its new-world simplicity is a
condition of Miranda's virginal charm. That it was
not the sole or the chief condition is thrust upon us

4°5

The Tempest

with almost violent emphasis in the contrasted picture
of Caliban, bred in the same island and by the same
hand, but void of the saving birthright of noble race
and inherited civility,' so that upon his nature 'Nur
ture will never stick.' This contrast has a kind of
inverted counterpart in the several groups of the
wrecked crew — samples of civilised breeding at its
best and worst ; — from Ferdinand, almost the peer of
Miranda, and 'holy' Gonzalo, the kindly friend of
Prospero, to the traitors, Antonio and Sebastian, and
the dregs of humanity, Stephano and Trinculo, in
whose vulgar cynicism Caliban himself, with his
pathetic awe, his naive poetry of wonder, finds a foil.

The slightness of its plot-interest has not prevented
The Tempest from exercising a fascination upon pos
terity which in kind and variety belongs to no other
play. It combines the profound and inexhaustible
intellectual suggestiveness of Hamlet with the en
chanted scenery, the piquant invention, the lyrical
loveliness of the Midsummer -Nighfs Dream, It
amused Pepys by its 'innocence,' and furnished new
instruments of expression to a Browning and a Renan.

In its own century The Tempest served to some
extent as an early edition of Robinson Crusoe. The
honours of fame were fairly divided between Miranda
and Caliban. 'The woman who had never seen a
man ' was a piquant conception, over which Fletcher
in The Sea Voyage and Sir John Suckling in The
Goblins (pr. 1646) drew the trail of their grosser
fancy. After the Restoration it was witnessed by
thronged houses with half-unwilling delight faithfully
rejected in the naive records, already mentioned, of
Pepys (1667-8). Dryden, nearly at the same time,
paid Ihe Tempest the ambiguous compliment of an
adaptation in The Enchanted Island (produced in
1667, published in 1670). Nothing can better illus-
406

Introduction

trate Shakespeare's admirable economy in the use of
the marvels at his command, than this bustling com
position of an ingenious playwright intent solely upon
stage-effect. The banished Duke of Milan is doubled
with an heir to the duchy of Mantua, and 'the
woman who has never s"een a man ' with ' a man
who has never seen a woman,' carefully secluded in
another part of the cave. Ariel has a mistress, and
Caliban a sister, Sycorax, who marries Trinculo.
There is much cleverness in all this, and some
wisdom ; for Dryden perfectly understood that, as
he confessed in the Prologue,

Shakespeare's magic could not copied be.

Twelve years later he showed by a masterly appre
ciation of Caliban (in The Grounds of Criticism in
Tragedy, 1679) that he had penetrated further than
any contemporary into the methods of that magic.
In our own century no one has ventured, on this
elaborate scale, to make good the economies of
Shakespeare ; but the unexhausted zest of single
aspects of the Isle has repeatedly overpowered the
usual reluctance of wise men to carry further the
stories which Shakespeare left half told. The voyage
home to Naples proved adventurous in the hands of
F. C. Waldron, whose The Virgin Queen, a melo
drama, appeared in 1797. But it is chiefly the
story of Caliban that has arrested the imagination of
modern Europe. The grovelling worshipper of drink
and ' Freedom ' became in the hands of Renan an
embodiment of prosperous and unspiritual democracy ;
and Browning elicited from the poor cowerer before
the terrors of his dam's god Setebos the subtlest ex
pression of the being of 'natural theology.' And
among the imaginative progeny of The Tempest must
be reckoned a long line of critical interpretations.
407

The Tempest

Darwin's discoveries threw a new light upon the man-
monster, which Daniel Wilson exploited in his
Caliban, or The Missing Link (1873). Politics,
metaphysics, anthropology, literary history, have each
been divined in the cloudy symbols of Shakespeare's
high romartce.1' Few" ofnfhese interpretations have
had any vogue. One, however, the world by a
common instinct refuses to resign : that which re
gards Shakespeare as having, in Prospero's epilogue,
himself bidden farewell to the stage.

1 Cf. the summary in Dovvden's Shakspere, His Mind and Art,
p. 424.

408

THE TEMPEST

ACT I.

SCENE I. On a ship at sea : a tempestuous
noise of thunder and lightning heard.

Enter a Ship- Master and a Boatswain.

Mast. Boatswain !

Boats. Here, master : what cheer ?

Mast. Good, speak to the mariners : fall to 't,
yarely, or we run ourselves aground : bestir,
bestir. [Exit.

Enter Mariners.

Boats. Heigh, my hearts ! cheerly, cheerly,
my hearts ! yare, yare ! Take in the topsail.
Tend to the master's whistle. Blow, till thou
burst thy wind, if room enough !

3. Good, ' my good fellow,' command and the final cata-

a persuasive preface to a com- strophe (v. 64), there are three

mand. So in vv. 16, 20, successive manoeuvres in the

etc. handling of the ship.

3. fall to 't, yarely. This 4. ynrely, briskly,

order corresponds to the first of 7. Take in the topsail ; this is

the five phases or ' positions, ' the first mano2uvre.

distinguished by Lord Mus- 9. if room enough, if there is

grave. Apart from this general sea-room.

409

The Tempest ACT i

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND,
GONZALO, and others.

Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where 's 10
the master? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain ?

Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our
labour : keep your cabins : you do assist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence ! What cares
these roarers for the name of king ? To cabin :
silence ! trouble us not.

Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast *>
aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than myself.
You are a counsellor ; if you can command these
elements to silence, and work the peace of the
present, we will not hand a rope more ; use your
authority : if you cannot, give thanks you have
lived so long, and make yourself ready in your
cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.
Cheerly, good hearts ! Out of our way, I say. [Exit.

Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow : 30
methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him ;
his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast,
good Fate, to his hanging : make the rope of his
destiny our cable, for our own doth little advant
age. If he be not born to be hanged, our case
is miserable. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Boatswain.
Boats. Down with the topmast ! yare ! lower,

1 8. roarers, blusterers. The movable topmast was a

37. Down with the topmast ; new invention in Shakespeare's

the second manoeuvre, still fur- time. This order is introduced

ther reducing the weight aloft. to prepare for the next.

410

sc. i The Tempest

lower ! Bring her to try with main-course. [A
cry within.] A plague upon this howling ! they
are louder than the weather or our office. 40

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO.

Yet again ! what do you here ? Shall we give
o'er and drown ? Have you a mind to sink ?

Seb. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blas
phemous, incharitable dog !

Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang, cur ! hang, you whoreson, in
solent noisemaker ! We are less afraid to be
drowned than thou art.

Gon. I '11 warrant him for drowning ; though
the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as so
leaky as an unstanched wench.

Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold ! set her two
courses off to sea again ; lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Manners. All lost ! to prayers, to prayers !
all lost !

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold ?

Gon. The king and prince at prayers ! let 's

assist them,
For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I 'm out of patience.

38. Bring her to try with courses off to sea again, bring her

main-course., bring her close to close to the wind by hauling up

the wind with the main-sail. To the main-sail, and set her two

' lie as try with the main-course ' lowest sails (courses) on the other

was a recognised expedient in a tack, to try to clear the land

Storm. that way. The third manoeuvre ;

40. our office, my orders. «*ich however f*!ls' and 'he

ship, not being able to weather

52. Lay her a-hold ; sethertwo a point, is driven ashore.
411

-v*wit-*vj_ f •— "J

-VN *+rff

V*«, '., "M

T<1 T1

The Tempest ACT

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by

drunkards :
This wide-chapp'd rascal — would thou mightst

lie drowning
The washing of ten tides !

Gon. He '11 be hang'd yet,

Though every drop of water swear against it
And gape at widest to glut him.
\A confused noise ivithin : ' Mercy on us ! ' —
' We split, we split ! ' — ' Farewell my wife and

children ! ' —

' Farewell, brother!' — 'We split, we split, we split ! ']
Ant. Let 's all sink with the king.
Seb. Let 's take leave of him.

[Exeunt Ant. and Seb.

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs
of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath,
brown furze, any thing. The wills above be
done ! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer : a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.

63. glut, swallow. heath, ' which beareth his flowers

alongstthe stemmes,' was then so
70. long heath, a variety of called.

4I2

, -v-w^-u M'-^^^s - C-W <o WV

• •

The Tempest

Had I been any god of power, I would *>

Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
The fraughting souls within her.

Pros. Be collected :

No more amazement : tell your piteous heart
There 's no harm done.

Mir. O, woe the day !

Pros. No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 20

And thy no greater father.

Mir. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pros. 'Tis time

I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me. So :

\Lays down his mantle.
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have

comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered that there is no soul —
No, not so much perdition as an hair 3o

Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink.

Sit down ;
For thou must now know farther.

Mir. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition,

13. The fraughting snu/s, the living freight.

.JL U*)i U^ 5.

UWj^jZAvfc

. */ 4.A. CA~ j>t.

The Tempest

Concluding ' Stay : not yet.'

Pros. The hour 's now come ;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear ;
Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell ?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not 40
Out three years old.

Mir. Certainly, sir, I can.

Pros. By what ? by any other house or person ?
Of any thing the image tell me that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.

Mir. 'Tis far off

And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me ?

Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But

how is it

That this lives in thy mind ? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time ? 50

If thou remember'st aught ere thou earnest here,
How thou earnest here thou mayst.

Mir. But that I do not.

Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year

since,

Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
A prince of power.

Mir. Sir, are not you my father ?

Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter ; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan ; and thou his only heir
And princess no worse issued.

Mir. O the heavens !

What foul play had we, that we came from thence ? 60
Or blessed was 't we did ?

41. Out, fully. 56. piece, paragon.

59. issued, derived.

414

sc. ii The Tempest

Pros, Both, both, my girl :

By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,
But blessedly holp hither.

Mir. O, my heart bleeds

To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance ! Please you,
farther.

Pros. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio —
I pray thee, mark me — that a brother should
Be so perfidious ! — he whom next thyself
Of all the world I loved and to him put
The manage of my state ; as at that time 7o

Through all the signories it was the first
And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel ; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle —
Dost thou attend me ?

Mir. Sir, most heedfully.

Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who to advance and who 80

To trash for over-topping, new created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed

'em,

Or else new form'd 'em ; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
To what tune pleased his ear ; that now he was

64. teen, trouble. too high. Trash was a tech-

65. frum, out of. nical term of the kennel for the
69. put the manage, confided process of artificially retarding

the control. a dog too eager or forward in

79. perfected, completely hunting,
skilled. 83. key, tuning-key (with a

81. trash for over - topping, play upon the ordinary sense),
hamper, to prevent their rising 85. that, so that.

415

The Tempest ACT

The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on 't. Thou attend'st
not.

Mir. O, good sir, I do.

Pros. I pray thee, mark me.

I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind 90

With that which, but by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature ; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary as great
As my trust was ; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it, 100

Made such a sinner of his memory
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke ; out o' the substitu

tion,

And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing —
Dost thou hear?

Mir. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

92. O'er-prized, exceeded in from the word 'lie 'to which 'it'

value. refers. On the other hand, ' by

100. Who having into truth, telling of it ' becomes natural,

etc. This is usually understood : if the clause containing 'lie'

'Who has, by habitual repetition was already opened in the pre-

of a lie, so corrupted the veracity ceding words. Hence it is

of his memory that he believes probable that the construction

the lie himself.' Warburton is ' credit his own lie into truth,'

substituted unto for into. But i.e. 'believe it into the semblance

even 'sinner unto truth' is a of truth,' the lucidity of the

questionable phrase, while the thought being disturbed in the

clause 'by telling of it' is by this course of its expression by the

construction awkwardly cut off amplification in line 101.
416

sc. » The Tempest

Pros. To have no screen between this part he

play'd

And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough : of temporal royalties no
He thinks me now incapable; confederates —
So dry he was for sway — wi' the King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown and bend
The dukedom yet unbow'd — alas, poor Milan ! —
To most ignoble stooping.

Mir. O the heavens !

Pros. Mark his condition and the event ; then

tell me
If this might be a brother.

Mir. I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother :
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pros. Now the condition. 120

This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit ;
Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
With all the honours on my brother : whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness, 130
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.

Mir. Alack, for pity !

I, not remembering how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again : it is a hint

109. Milan, duke of Milan. 123. in lieu o , in return for.

112. dry, thirsty. 134. hint, theme.

VOL. IV 417 2 E

The Tempest ^CT i

That wrings mine eyes to 't.

Pros. Hear a little further

And then I '11 bring thee to the present business
Which now 's upon 's ; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.

Mir. Wherefore did they not

That hour destroy us?

Pros. Well demanded, wench :

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst

not, 140

So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
A mark so bloody on the business, but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea ; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast ; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it : there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
To the winds whose pity, sighing back again, 150

Did us but loving wrong.

Mir. Alack, what trouble

Was I then to you !

Pros. O, a cherubin

Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst

smile,

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burthen groan'd ; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.

Mir. How came we ashore ?

146. butt, (figuratively for) a 148. hoist, hoisted,

broad, unwieldy boat a 'tub1 ^^V, sprinkled.
That it was not literally a cask

is shown by the description ' not 157. An undergoing stomach,

rigged,' etc. a valiant courage.

418

sc. ii The Tempest

Pros. By Providence divine.

Some food we had and some fresh water that 160

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity, who being then appointed
Master of this design, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much ; so, of his

gentleness,

Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.

Mir. Would I might

But ever see that man !

Pros. Now I arise : [Resumes his mantle.

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170

Here in this island we arrived ; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princess' can that have more time
For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.

Mir. Heavens thank you for 't ! And now, I

pray you, sir,

For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm ?

Pros. Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore ; and by my prescience i8o

I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence

169. Now I arise. These The stage - direction was first

words have caused much diffi- suggested by Dyce.
culty. The injunction to 173. princess , princesses.

Miranda in the next line to ' Sit Ff princesse. This is the regular

still ' favours the most obvious Shakespearean plural of the

sense. On the point of resuming word.

his magician's part, Prospero 1 8 1. zenith, culminating point

' arises ' and puts on his robe. of fortune.
419

The Tempest ACT i

If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions :
Thou art inclined to sleep ; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way : I know thou canst not choose.

\_Miranda sleeps.

Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.

Enter ARIEL.

AH. All hail, great master ! grave sir, hail ! I

come

To answer thy best pleasure ; be 't to fly, 190

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.

Pros. Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee ?

Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement : sometime I 'Id divide,
And burn in many places ; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, 200
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the pre
cursors

O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not ; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

193. quality, faculty, craft 198. / flamed amazement,
(perhaps in the collective rather etc. The description is suggested
than the abstract sense). by the ' fire of St. Elmo, ' — flames

194. to point, precisely. seen during a storm to fly along
197. waist, the middle portion from mast to mast. Accounts

of a ship between forecastle and of it were accessible in Hakluyt.
quarterdeck. 200. distinctly, separately.

420

sc. ii The Tempest

Pros. My brave spirit !

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason ?

Art. Not a soul

But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners 210
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me : the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring, — then like reeds, not hair, —
Was the first man that leap'd ; cried, ' Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.'

Pros. Why, that 's my spirit,

But was not this nigh shore ?

Ari. Close by, my master.

Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe ?

Ari. Not a hair perish'd ;

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before : and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle. 2ao
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.

'Pros. Of the king's ship

The mariners say how thou hast disposed
And all the rest o' the fleet.

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the king's ship ; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she 's hid :

207. coil, uproar. folded — thus. ' ' Folded arms '

210. tricks, wild acts. were amongst the accepted signs

of melancholy.
213. up-staring, stand.ng on 22g still-uex>dl for ever

storm-beaten.

223. odd, out-of-the-way. 229. Bermoothes, the Ber-

224. in this sad knot, ' sadly mudas.

421

"T-U -r
1 he I empest

ACT I

The mariners all under hatches stow'd ; 230

Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep : and for the rest o' the fleet
Which I dispersed, they all have met again
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples,
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
And his great person perish.

Pros. Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd : but there 's more work.
What is the time o' the day ?

Ari. Past the mid season,

Pros. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six

and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil ? Since thou dost give

me pains,

Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pros. How now ? moody ?

What is 't thou canst demand ?

Ari. My liberty.

Pros. Before the time be out ? no more !

Ari. I prithee,

Remember I have done thee worthy service ;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings : thou didst

promise
To bate me a full year.

Pros. Dost thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee ?

Ari. No.

Pros. Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread
the ooze

234. fate, flood. 240. glasses, hours.

252. ooze, oozy bottom.
422

!
sc. ii The Tempest

Of the salt deep,

To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o' the earth
When it is baked with frost.

Ari. I do not, sir.

Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing ! Hast thou

forgot

The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop ? hast thou forgot her ?

Ari. No, sir.

Pros. Thou hast. Where was she born ?

speak ; tell me. 2<5o

Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pros. O, was she so? I must

Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'st, was banished: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is not this true ?

Ari. Ay, sir.

Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought

with child

And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 270
As thou report's! thyself, wast then her servant ;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,

261. Argier, Algiers. specific ground of mercy was

266. for one thing she did. is as irrelevant as the specific

What this one thing was has ground of condemnation, and

excited much needless specula- may have entered as little into

tion. The only object of the Shakespeare's mind.
narrative was to account for

Sycorax's arrival in the island ; 269. blue - eyed, (probably)

she was banished for her crimes with blue or livid eyelids, then

and spared deaih in considera- a reputed sign of pregnancy

tion of some service ; what the (Wright).

423

ACT I

By help of her more potent ministers

And in her most immitigable rage,

Into a cloven pine ; within which rift

Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years ; within which space she died

And left thee there ; where thou didst vent thy

groans 280

As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this

island —

Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born — not honour'd with
A human shape.

Art. Yes, Caliban her son.

Pros. Dull thing, I say so ; he, that Caliban
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in ; thy groans
Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
Of ever angry bears : it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax 290

Could not again undo : it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine and let thee out.

Ari. I thank thee, master.

Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Ari. Pardon, master ;

I will be correspondent to command
And do my spiriting gently.

Pros. Do so, and after two days

I will discharge thee.

Ari. That 's my noble master !

What shall I do ? say what ; what shall I do ? 300

Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea :

be subject

To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
424

sc. ii The Tempest

To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in 't : go, hence with diligence !

\Exit Ariel,

Awake, dear heart, awake ! thou hast slept well ;
Awake !

Mir. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.

Pros. Shake it off. Come on ;

We '11 visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.

Mir. 'Tis a villain, sir,

I do not love to look on.

Pros. But, as 'tis, 3io

We cannot miss him : he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
That profit us. What, ho ! slave ! Caliban !
Thou earth, thou ! speak.

Cal. [ Within] There 's wood enough within.

Pros. Come forth, I say ! there 's other busi
ness for thee :
Come, thou tortoise ! when ?

Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.

Fine apparition ! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

Art. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.

Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil

himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth ! 320

Enter CALIBAN.

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both ! a south-west blow on ye

311. mt.ts, do without. of impatience.

316. when ? an exclamation 317. quaint, dainty.

425

The Tempest ACT i

And blister you all o'er !

Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt

have cramps,

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up ; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee ; thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

Cal. I must eat my dinner. 330

This island 's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou earnest

first,
Thou strokedst me and madest much of me,

wouldst give me

Water with berries in 't, and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night : and then I loved

thee

And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and

fertile :

Cursed be I that did so ! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you ! 340
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king : and here you

sty me

In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' the island.

Pros. Thou most lying slave,

Whom stripes may move, not kindness ! I have

used thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee

326. urchins, hobgoblins. 333. strokedst and madest,

327. for that vast of night, Ff strok ' st and made.

for that desolate period of night 334. berries, perhaps coffee,

in which they were permitted to already known by report as an
work. Eastern drink.

426

The Tempest

In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, O ho ! would 't had been done !
Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else 350

This isle with Calibans.

Pros. Abhorred slave,

Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each

hour

One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble

A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile

race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which

good natures

Could not abide to be with ; therefore wast thou 360
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language ; and my profit

on't

Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language !

Pros. Hag-seed, hence !

Fetch us in fuel ; and be quick, thou 'rt best,
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice ?
If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly
What I command, I '11 rack thee with old cramps.

351-62. Assigned by Ff to were currently classified accord-
Miranda. It was restored to ing to the colour of the sores
Prospero by Theobald. they produced, as 'red,'

358. race, hereditary nature, ' yellow,' and ' black. '

strain. 364. rid, destroy.

364. red plague. Plagues 369. old, intense, ' rare. '

427

-* -v^CftX^-

The Tempest ACT i

Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar 370

That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, pray thee.

\Aside\ I must obey : his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pros. So, slave ; hence ! \Exit Caliban.

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing;
FERDINAND following.

ARIEL'S song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands :
Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist,

Foot it featly here and there ; 380

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
Burthen \dispersedly\. Hark, hark !

Bow-wow.
The watch-dogs bark :

Bow-wow.

370. aches. The word ache favoured by the punctuation in

was phonetically identical with Ffandbyv. 392, is more Shake-

name of the letter H. Hence spearean than the commoner

Shakespeare puns on them (cf. one, which makes v. 379 a

Much Ado, iii. 4. 56). parenthesis.

374. invisible. A special 3so. featly, gracefully.
dress was used to indicate ' in

visibility.' Steevens quotes &i. the burthen bear, V^s

from a contemporary theatrical e°"ectl°" °! thf readlnS of the

wardrobe the item : a robe for to Ff bear the burden-

go invisible. 382. Ff print the four lines

378-9. kiss'd the wild -waves 382-6 continuously, as belong-

whist, kissed the waves into ing to the 'dispersed burthen.'

hushed stillness, i.e. kissed Some editors separate the ' bow-

partners (immediate prelude to wows ' from the ' burthen ' ; but

the dance) and thereby hushed in the desolate island the ' watch

the noisy waves into attention dogs ' also must clearly have

(Allen). This interpretation, been personated by 'sprites.'

428

— wv* *~ytiN^ vy--;
sc. ii The Tempest

^n'. Hark, hark ! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Fer. Where should this music be ? i' the air or

the earth ?

It sounds no more : and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 390

This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air : thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies ;
Of his bones are coral made ;
Those are pearls that were his eyes :

Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change 4oo

Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :

Burthen. Ding-dong.
Art. Hark ! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, bell.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown 'd

father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me. _ if 0 /

Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance

390. again, again and again. son composed in 1610 the music

395. Ariel sings. The for Middleton's The Witch.

musical setting of this song by 405. ditty, the words (detto)

R. Johnson, probably that used of the song.

in the original performance, is 405. remember, commemo-

still extant in Wilson's Cheerful rate.

Ayres or Ballads, 1660. John- 408. advance, lift up.
429

The Tempest ACT i

And say what thou seest yond.

Mir. What is 't ? a spirit ?

Lord, how it looks about ! Believe me, sir, 4i0

It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pros. No, wench ; it eats and sleeps and hath

such senses

As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck ; and, but he 's something stain'd
With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst

call him

A goodly person : he hath lost his fellows
And strays about to find 'em.

Mir. I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

Pros. [Aside] It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit ! I '11

free thee 420

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend ! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island ;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here : my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder !
If you be maid or no ?

Mir. No wonder, sir;

But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language ! heavens !

I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pros. How ? the best ? <3o

What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee ?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders

432. A single thing, i.e. Naples ; with a play on the
identical with the King of sense ' solitary. '

43°

The Tempest

To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me ;
And that he does I weep : myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

Mir. Alack, for mercy !

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords ; the Duke of

Milan
And his brave son being twain.

Pros. [Aside] The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do 't. At the first sight 440

They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I '11 set thee free for this. [To Fer.~\ A word, good

sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong : a word.

Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently ? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
That ere I sigh'd for : pity move my father
To be inclined my way !

Fer. O, if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I '11 make you
The queen of Naples.

Pros. Soft, sir ! one word more.

\Aside\ They are both in cither's powers; but

this swift business 45o

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. [To Fer~\ One word more ;

I charge thee

That thou attend me : thou dost here usurp
The name thou owest not ; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on 't.

438. his brave son. This per- made an unfounded claim ; with
son, apparently by an oversight, the friendly sub-sense, hidden
does not appear in the sequel. from Ferdinand : ' represented

439. control, check. your case as worse than it will
443. done your self some wrong, prove to be.'

43 *

The Tempest ACT i

Fer. No, as I am a man.

Mir. There 's nothing ill can dwell in such a

temple :

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with 't.

Pros. Follow me.

Speak not you for him ; he 's a traitor. Come ; 460
I '11 manacle thy neck and feet together :
Sea-water shall thou drink ; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No ;

I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.

[Draws, and is charmed from moving.

Mir. O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He 's gentle and not fearful.

Pros. What? I say,

My foot my tutor ? Put thy sword up, traitor ;
Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy

conscience 47o

Is so possess'd with guilt : come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.

Mir. Beseech you, father.

Pros. Hence ! hang not on my garments.

Mir. Sir, have pity ;

I '11 be his surety.

Pro s. Silence ! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee.
What !

468. gentle and not fearful, attribute to Miranda too much

mild and not terrible. The insight into the niceties of social

interpretation ' of gentle birth distinction,

and not a coward' seems to 471- ward, posture of defence.

432

sc. ii The Tempest

An advocate for an impostor ! hush !
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban : foolish wench !
To the most of men this is a Caliban 48o

And they to him are angels.

Mir. My affections r-

Are then most humble ; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.

Pros. Come on ; obey :

Thy nerves are in their infancy again
And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are ;

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father 's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's

threats,

To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day 490

Behold this maid : all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

Pros. \Aside\ It works. [To Fer.~\ Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel] [To Fer.~\ Follow

me.
[To Ari^\ Hark what thou else shalt do me.

Mir. Be of comfort ;

My father 's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech : this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

Pros. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds : but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Ari. To the syllable. Soo

Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.

\Exeunt.
484. nerves, sinews.

VOL. iv 433 2 F

The Tempest ACT n

ACT II.

SCENE I. Another part of the island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry ; you have

cause,

So have we all, of joy ; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common ; every day some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe ; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us : then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alon. Prithee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.

Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

Seb. Look, he 's winding up the watch of his
wit ; by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir, —

Seb. One: tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that 's

offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer —

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed : you have
spoken truer than you purposed.

3. hint, occasion.
5. masters of some merchant, i.e. 'merchantman.'

434

sc. i The Tempest

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant
you should,

Gon. Therefore, my lord, —

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue

Alon. I prithee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done : but yet, —

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager,
first begins to crow ?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockerel. 30

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match !

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, —

Ant. Ha, ha, ha !

Seb. So, you 're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible, —

Seb. Yet,—

Adr. Yet,—

Ant. He could not miss 't. «o

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and
delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle ; as he most learnedly
delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most
sweetly.

Seb. As if it had lungs and rotten ones.

Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

35. (Ant. ) Ha, ha, ha! (Se6.) spoken, Antonio wins the match,

So, you're paid. Ff give the laughs in triumph, and ' a

first words to Sebastian, the laughter' being the wager, is

second to Antonio. Theobald thereupon told by Sebastian that

gave both to Sebastian. Adrian, he is 'paid.'

' the cockerel,' having first 42. temperance, temperature.

435

The Tempest ACT n

Ant. True ; save means to live. 50

Seb. Of that there 's none, or little.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks ! how
green !

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in 't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No ; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

Gon. But the rarity of it is, — which is indeed
almost beyond credit, —

Seb. As many vouched rarities are. 60

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were,
drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their
freshness and glosses, being rather new -dyed
than stained with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak,
would it not say he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh
as when we put them on first in Afric, at the
marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to 7o
the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper
well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such
a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow ! a pox o' that ! How came that
widow in ? widow Dido !

Seb. What if he had said ' widower .^Eneas '
too ? Good Lord, how you take it ! 80

Adr. ' Widow Dido ' said you ? you make me
study of that : she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

55. an eye, a tinge. in f i.e. seeing that Dido lost

75. to, for. .<Eneas by his desertion, not by

77. How came that -widow his death.

436

sc. i The Tempest

Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous
harp.

Seb. He hath raised the wall and houses too.

Ant. What impossible matter will he make
easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in 90
his pocket and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea,
bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay.

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments
seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at
the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.

Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. 100

Ant. O, widow Dido ! ay, widow Dido.

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the
first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That ' sort ' was well fished for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage ?

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears
against

86. the miraculous harp, viz. of grief. This has the merit of

the harp with which Amphion accounting for Gonzalo's sudden

raised the walls of Thebes. address to the King in line 96.

94. Ay. This is best under- 95. ingood time, ' very good,'

stood as addressed to Adrian — ' to be sure.'
Gonzalo, who persistently ig- 104. That ' sort ' was -well

nores Antonio and Sebastian, fished for, ' You have stumbled

reiterating his assurance that at last upon that needful qualifi-

Tunis was Carthage. Staunton cation ! '

gave Ay to Alonso, interpreting 106. against the stomach

it as an exclamation uttered by of my sense, though I loathe to

him on awaking from his trance hear them.

437

The Tempest ACT n

The stomach of my sense. Would I had never

Married my daughter there ! for, coming thence,

My son is lost, and, in my rate, she too,

Who is so far from Italy removed no

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir

Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

Hath made his meal on thee ?

Fran, Sir, he may live :

I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him ; his bold

head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, 120
As stooping to relieve him : I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he 's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your

daughter,

But rather lose her to an African ;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on 't.

Alon. Prithee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to and importuned

otherwise

By all of us, and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at 130

109. rate, estimation. beam should bow, which scale

127. Who hath cause to wet should descend. The expression

the grief on't, (she) who has is elliptical for 'at which end of

cause to fill your eyes with tears. (it) the beam should bow,' or

130. loathness, reluctance. ' at which end o' the beam (it)

ib. at which end o' the should bow.'

438

sc. i The Tempest

Which end o' the beam should bow. We have

lost your son,

I fear, for ever : Milan and Naples have
Moe widows in them of this business' making
Than we bring men to comfort them :
The fault 's your own.

Alon. So is the dear'st o' the loss.

Gon. My lord Sebastian,

The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
And time to speak it in : you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly. 140

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.

Seb. Foul weather?

Ant. Very foul.

Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, —

Ant. He 'Id sow 't with nettle-seed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

Gon. And were the king on 't, what would I do ?

Seb. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.

Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by con
traries

Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ;
Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, JSo
And use of service, none ; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none ;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil ;
No occupation ; all men idle, all ;
And women too, but innocent and pure ;

135. the dear'st, the most 143. plantation, a colony,

grievously missed portion. Antonio affects to understand

140. chirurgeonly, like a the word in the sense now alone

surgeon. current.

439

The Tempest ACT n

No sovereignty ; —

Seb. Yet he would be king on 't.

Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth for
gets the beginning.

Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, 160

Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth,
Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects ?

Ant. None, man ; all idle ; whores and knaves.

Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.

Seb. 'Save his majesty !

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

Gon. And, — do you mark me, sir ?

Alon. Prithee, no more : thou dost talk nothing 170
to me.

Gon, I do well believe your highness ; and
did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,
who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that
they always use to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laughed at.

Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am
nothing to you : so you may continue and laugh
at nothing still.

Ant. What a blow was there given ! 180

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle ; you
would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she
would continue in it five weeks without changing.

163. it, its. 178. to, in comparison with,

ib. foison, plenty.

174. sensible, sensitive, easily \%\. flat - long, like a blow

moved. with the flat of the sword.

440

The Tempest

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music.

Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.

Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

Gon. No, I warrant you ; I will not adventure
my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me
asleep, for I am very heavy ?

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. 190

\All sleep except A/on., Seb., and Ant.

Alon. What, all so soon asleep ! I wish mine

eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts : I

find
They are inclined to do so.

Seb. Please you, sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it :
It seldom visits sorrow ; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Ant, We two, my lord,

Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.

Alon. Thank you. Wondrous heavy.

\_Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.

Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them !

Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eyelids sink ? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.

Ant. Nor I ; my spirits are nimble.

They fell together all, as by consent ;
They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What
might,

185. a bat-fowling, the hunt- i.e. hear them laughing at him.
ing of bats by night ; they were 194. omit the heavy offer of it,

scared with flames and knocked neglect its slumberous invitation,
down with poles. 203. consent, common agree-

190. Go sleep, and hear us, ment.
441

The Tempest ACT n

Worthy Sebastian ? O, what might ? — No more : —

And yet methinks I see it in thy face,

What thou shouldst be : the occasion speaks thee,

and

My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What, art thou waking ?

Ant Do you not hear me speak ?

Seb. I do ; and surely 210

It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say ?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open ; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep — die, rather ; wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.

Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly ;

There 's meaning in thy snores.

Ant. I am more serious than my custom : you
Must be so too, if heed me ; which to do 220

Trebles thee o'er.

Seb. Well, I am standing water.

Ant. I '11 teach you how to flow.

Seb. Do so : to ebb

Hereditary sloth instructs me.

Ant. O,

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mock it ! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it ! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.

Seb. Prithee, say on :

207. speaks, proclaims. thrice the man you are.

217. distinctly, articulately. 226. Ebbing men, men of de-

221. Trebles thee, makes you clining fortunes.

442

sc. i The Tempest

The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim

A matter from thee, and a birth indeed 330

Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus, sir :

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded, —
For he 's a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade, — the king his son 's alive,
'Tis as impossible that he 's undrown'd
As he that sleeps here swims.

Seb. I have no hope

That he 's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that ' no hope '

What great hope have you ! no hope that way is 240
Another way so high a hope that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd ?

Seb. He 's gone.

Ant. Then, tell me,

Who 's the next heir of Naples ?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is queen of Tunis ; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from

Naples

Can have no note, unless the sun were post —
The man i' the moon 's too slow — till new-born

chins
Be rough and razorable ; she that — from whom 250

229. proclaim a matter doubting (suspecting) that no-

from thee, announce an im- thing can there be found,
portant communication. 247. beyond man' s life,

232. remembrance, memory. (probably) beyond the distance

233. of as little memory, as a man could travel in his life,
little remembered. 250. she that— from -whom,

243. But doubt, without she (coming) from whom.

443

The Tempest ACT H

We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
And by that destiny to perform an act
Whereof what 's past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.

Seb. What stuff is this ! how say you ?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter 's queen of Tunis ;
So is she heir of Naples ; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.

Ant. A space whose every cubit

Seems to cry out, ' How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples ? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.5 Say, this were death 260
That now hath seized them ; why, they were no

worse

Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps ; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo ; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do ! what a sleep were this
For your advancement ! Do you understand me ?

Seb. Methinks I do.

Ant. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune ?

Seb. I remember 270

You did supplant your brother Prospero.

Ant. True :

Ana look how well my garments sit upon me ;
Much feater than before : my brother's servants
Were then my fellows ; now they are my men.

Seb. But, for your conscience ?

Ant. Ay, sir ; where lies that ? if 'twere a kibe,

251. cast, cast up. deep chat, make a chough (a

254. In yours and my dis- kind of crow) talk as pro-

charge, rests upon you and me foundly.

to carry out. 270. Tender, regard.

265. make a chough of as 276. kibe, chilblain.

444

sc. i The Tempest

'Twould put me to my slipper : but I feel not
This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences,
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they
And melt ere they molest ! Here lies your brother, 280
No better than the earth he lies upon,
If he were that which now he 's like, that 's dead ;
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever ; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
They '11 take suggestion as a cat laps milk ;
They '11 tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb. Thy case, dear friend, 290

Shall be my precedent ; as thou got'st Milan,
I '11 come by Naples. Draw thy sword : one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest :
And I the king shall love thee.

Ant. Draw together ;

And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word. [They talk apart.

He-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art foresees the

danger

That you, his friend, are in ; and sends me forth —
For else his project dies — to keep them living.

\Sings in Gonzalo s ear.
While you here do snoring lie, 300

Open-eyed conspiracy

279. candied be. . . and melt,' 285. wink, sleep,
be congealed and dissolve away, 286. who should not up-

in either case ceasing to ' mo- braid, to prevent his upbraiding.
lest.' 288. suggestion, temptation.

445

The Tempest ACT n

His time doth take.
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware :
Awake, awake !

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels

Preserve the king. [They wake.

Alon. Why, how now ? ho, awake ! Why are

you drawn ?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Gon. What 's the matter ?

Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, 310
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions : did 't not wake you ?
It struck mine ear most terribly.

Alon. I heard nothing

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake ! sure, it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo ?

Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me :
I shaked you, sir, and cried : as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn : there was a noise, 320
That 's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place : let 's draw our weapons.

Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make

further search
For my poor son.

Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts !
For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon. Lead away.

Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have

done :
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt.

308. drawn, with drawn swords.
446

sc. ii The Tempest

SCENE II. Another part of the island.

Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A
noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inch-meal a disease ! His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor

pinch,

Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em ; but
For every trifle are they set upon me ;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which xo

Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall ; sometime am I
All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.

Enter TRINCULO.

Lo, now, lo !

Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly. I '11 fall flat ;
Perchance he will not mind me.

Trin. Here 's neither bush nor shrub, to bear
off any weather at all, and another storm brewing ;
I hear it sing i' the wind : yond same black cloud, 20
yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that
would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it
did before, I know not where to hide my head :

3. By inch-meal, inch by inch. 13. wound, wound about with.

5. urchin-shows, apparitions 21. bombard, a large vessel
of goblins. for holding liquor.

447

The Tempest ACT n

yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pail-
fuls. What have we here ? a man or a fish ? dead
or alive ? A fish : he smells like a fish ; a very
ancient and fish-like smell ; a kind of not of the
newest Poor-John. A strange fish ! Were I in
England now, as once I was, and had but this fish
painted, not a holiday fool there but would give 3o
a piece of silver : there would this monster make
a man ; any strange beast there makes a man :
when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame
beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.
Legged like a man ! and his fins like arms ! Warm
o' my troth ! I do now let loose my opinion ; hold
it no longer : this is no fish, but an islander, that
hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Th*ndtr.\
Alas, the storm is come again ! my best way is to
creep under his gaberdine ; there is no other shelter 40
hereabout : misery acquaints a man with strange
bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of
the storm be past

Enter STEPHANO, singing : a bottle in his hand.

Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die ashore —

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's
funeral : well, here 's my comfort. [Drinks.

[Sings.

The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
The gunner and his mate

28. Poor- John, salted hake. for half a year.

ib. Were I in England now, 3I_ make a man> make a

etc. This is attested by the man's future,
considerable Elizabethan litera
ture of -strange beasts.' In 33- dott, the smallest com.

1632 Sir H. Herbert, Master of E'Shty dolts made one shllllng'
the Revels, granted a license to 40. gaberdine, long coarse

J. Seele ' to shew a strange fish smock-frock.

448

sc. ii The Tempest

Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery, 5o
But none of us cared for Kate ;
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang !

She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,

Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did

itch:

Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang !
This is a scurvy tune too : but here 's my comfort.

[Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me : Oh !

Ste. What 's the matter ? Have we devils
here ? Do you put tricks upon 's with savages and 60
men of Ind, ha ? I have not 'scaped drowning to
be afeard now of your four legs ; for it hath been
said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs
cannot make him give ground ; and it shall be
said so again while Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me ; Oh !

Ste. This is some monster of the isle with
four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague.
Where the devil should he learn our language ?
I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. 70
If I can recover him and keep him tame and get
to Naples with him, he 's a present for any emperor
that ever trod on neat's-leather.

Cal. Do not torment me, prithee ; I 'II bring
my wood home faster.

Ste. He 's in his fit now and does not talk after
the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle : if he
have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to
remove his fit. If I can recover him and keep
him tame, I will not take too much for him ; he 80
shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

52. tang, shrill sound.
61. men of Ind, a synonym for 'savages.'
VOL. IV 449 2 G

The Tempest ACT n

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt ; thou
wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling : now Pros
per works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways ; open your mouth ;
here is that which will give language to you, cat :
open your mouth ; this will shake your shaking,
I can tell you, and that soundly : you cannot tell
who 's your friend : open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice : it should be go
— but he is drowned ; and these are devils : O
defend me !

Sfe. Four legs and two voices : a most deli
cate monster ! His forward voice now is to speak
well of- his friend ; his backward voice is to utter
foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in
my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague,
Come. Amen ! I will pour some in thy other
mouth.

Trin. Stephano ! 100

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy,
mercy ! This is a devil, and no monster : I will
leave him ; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano ! If thou beest Stephano,
touch me and speak to me ; for I am Trinculo —
be not afeard — thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth : I '11
pull thee by the lesser legs : if any be Trinculo's
legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo in
deed ! How earnest thou to be the siege of this no
moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos ?

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder
stroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano ? I

83. trembling, a reputed sign 98. Amen, i.e. Enough (for

of being 'possessed.1 this mouth).

86. cat; with reference to the x IQ s- stQol excrement.

proverb that 'good liquor will
make a cat speak.' in. moon-calf, abortion.

45°

sc. ii The Tempest

hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm over
blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaber
dine for fear of the storm. And art thou living,
Stephano ? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped !

Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about ; my stomach
is not constant. 120

Cat. \Aside\ These be fine things, an if they be

not sprites.

That 's a brave god and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How earnest
thou hither ? swear by this bottle how thou earnest
hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack which the
sailors heaved o'erboard, by this bottle ! which I
made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands
since I was cast ashore.

Cal. I '11 swear upon that bottle to be thy true 130
subject ; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here ; swear then how thou escapedst.

Trin. Swum ashore, man, like a duck : I can
swim like a duck, I '11 be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst
swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this?

Ste. The whole butt, man : my cellar is in a
rock by the sea-side where my wine is hid. How
now, moon-calf ! how does thine ague ?

Cal. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven ? 140

Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee : I was
the man i' the moon when time was.

Cal. I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee :
My mistress show'd me thee and thy dog and thy
bush.

Ste. Come, swear to that ; kiss the book : I
will furnish it anon with new contents : swear.
120. it not constant, is qualmish. 126. sack, Spanish white wine.
451

The Tempest ACT u

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow
monster ! I afeard of him ! A very weak mon
ster ! The man i' the moon ! A most poor
credulous monster ! Well drawn, monster, in 150
good sooth !

Cal. I '11 show thee every fertile inch o' th'

island ;
And I will kiss thy foot : I prithee, be my god.

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and
drunken monster ! when 's god 's asleep, he '11 rob
his bottle.

Cal. I '11 kiss thy foot ; I '11 swear myself thy
subject.

Ste. Come on then ; down, and swear.

Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this
puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster !
I could find in my heart to beat him, — 160

Ste. Come, kiss.

Trin. But that the poor monster 's in drink :
an abominable monster !

Cal. I '11 show thee the best springs ; I '11

pluck thee berries ;

I '11 fish for thee and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve !
I '11 bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster, to make a
wonder of a poor drunkard ! 170

Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs

grow ;

And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset ; I '11 bring thee

150. Well drawn, 'a good bulbous root-stock of the plant
draught.' Bunium flexuosum.

172. pig -nuts, the edible 174. marmoset, small monkey.

452

The Tempest

To clustering filberts and sometimes I '11 get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me ?

Ste. I prithee now, lead the way without any
more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our
company else being drowned, we will inherit
here : here ; bear my bottle : fellow Trinculo, 180
we '11 fill him by and by again.
Cal. \Sirtgs drunkenly\

Farewell, master ; farewell, farewell !
Trin. A howling monster ; a drunken monster !
Cal. No more dams I '11 make for fish ;
Nor fetch in firing
At requiring ;

Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish :
'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban
Has a new master : get a new man.
Freedom, hey-day ! hey-day, freedom ! freedom, 190
hey-day, freedom !

Ste. O brave monster ! Lead the way. [.Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Before PROSPEROUS cell.

• Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.
Fer. There be some sports are painful, and

their labour

176. scamels, probably some
kind of rock-breeding bird is
m^ant. But the word cannot
be shown to have ever existed
except as a local East-coast name
for a bird which does not breed
in the rocks. Theobald's con
jecture sea-mells, ' sea-gulls, ' is
therefore very plausible.

179. inherit, take possession.

187. trencher, Pope's emenda
tion for Ff trenchering. The
Ff reading has been ingeniously
defended as due to his drunken
hiccough ; it is more likely to be
due to the printer's eye having
caught the -ing of the two
previous lines.

i. painful, toilsome.

453

The Tempest ACT m

Delight in them sets off : some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
The mistress which I serve quickens what 's dead
And makes my labours pleasures : O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed,
And he 's composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, *>
Upon a sore injunction : my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such

baseness

Had never like executor. I forget :
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my

labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA ; and PROSPERO at a distance^
unseen.

Mir. Alas, now, pray you,

Work not so hard : I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile !
Pray, set it down and rest you : when this burns,
'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father

2. sets off, removes, assuages. and this, with the comma before
But labour may be taken as the least, may be interpreted :
subject, in which case 'set off' ' (these sweet thoughts inspiring
has its more usual Shakespearean and animating my toil), I am
sense : ' show to the best advan- really most busy when least
tage.' occupied.' But both the inver-

3. most poor matters, humblest sion of least and when, and the
operations. reference in do it to labours, are

11. Upon a sore injunction, harsh, and Shakespeare can

in obedience to a grievous order hardly have written the line thus.

(i.e. one sanctioned with a Preferable suggestions are

grievous penalty). Holt's, ' Most busiest, when I

15. Most busy lest, when I do do it' (i.e. when I 'forget'),

it. So Fj. The later Ff give and Spedding's ingenious,

Most busy least, when I do it ; ' Most busiest, when idlest.'

454

SC. I

The Tempest

Is hard at study ; pray now, rest yourself; 20

He 's safe for these three hours.

Fer. O most dear mistress,

The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.

Mir. If you '11 sit down,

I '11 bear your logs the while : pray, give me that ;
I '11 carry it to the pile.

Fer. No, precious creature ;

I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.

Mir. It would become me

As well as it does you : and I should do it
With much more ease ; for my good will is to it, 30
And yours it is against.

Pros. Poor worm, thou art infected !

This visitation shows it.

Mir. You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble mistress ; 'tis fresh morning

with me

When you are by at night. I do beseech you —
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers —
What is your name ?

Mir. Miranda. — O my father,

I have broke your hest to say so !

Fer. Admired Miranda !

Indeed the top of admiration ! worth
What 's dearest to the world ! Full many a lady
I have eyed with best regard and many a time 40
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear : for several virtues
Have I liked several women ; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed

32. visitation ; (carrying on the image of ' infected').

455

The Tempest

And put it to the foil : but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best !

Mir. I do not know

One of my sex ; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own ; nor have I seen 50
More that I may call men than you, good friend,
And my dear father : how features are abroad,
I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you,
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly and my father's precepts
I therein do forget.

Fer. I am in my condition

A prince, Miranda ; I do think, a king ; 60

I would, not so ! — and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul

speak :

The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service ; there resides,
To make me slave to it ; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.

Mir. Do you love me ?

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this

sound

And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true ! if hollowly, invert TO

What best is boded me to mischief! I
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mir. I am a fool

To weep at what I am glad of.

46. put to the foil, foiled. 72. what, anything, aught.

456

sc. ii The Tempest

Pros. Fair encounter

Of two most rare affections ! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between 'em !

Per. Wherefore weep you ?

Mir. At mine unworthiness that dare not offer
What I desire to give, and much less take
What I shall die to want. But this is trifling ;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself, 80

The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning !
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence !
I am your wife, if you will marry me ;
If not, I '11 die your maid : to be your fellow
You may deny me ; but I '11 be your servant,
Whether you" will or no.

Per. My mistress, dearest;

And I thus humble ever.

Mir. My husband, then ?

Per. Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e'er of freedom : here 's my hand.

Mir. And mine, with my heart in 't : and now

farewell 90

Till half an hour hence.

Per. A thousand thousand !

\Exeunt Per. and Mir. severally.

Pros. So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal ; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I 'II to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform-
Much business appertaining. \Exit.

SCENE II. Another part of the island.

Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.
Ste. Tell not me ; when the butt is out, we

79. die to want, die through wanting. 84. maid, handmaiden.

457

The Tempest

will drink water ; not a drop before : therefore
bear up, and board 'em. Servant-monster, drink
to me.

Trin. Servant-monster ! the folly of this island !
They say there 's but five upon this isle : we are
three of them ; if th' other two be brained like us,
the state totters.

Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee :
thy eyes are almost set in thy head. 10

Trin. Where should they be set else? he were
a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his
tail.

Ste. My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue
in sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me;
I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and
thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou
shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.

Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list ; he 's no
standard. 20

Ste. We '11 not run, Monsieur Monster.

Trin. Nor go neither ; but you '11 lie like dogs
and yet say nothing neither.

Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou
beest a good moon-calf.

Cal. How does thy honour ? Let me lick thy shoe.
I '11 not serve him ; he is not valiant.

Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster : I
am in case to justle a constable. Why, thou de-
boshed fish, thou, was there ever man a coward 30
that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day ? Wilt
thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and
half a monster ?

3. bear up (a nautical phrase), 1 8. standard, standard-bearer.

' to put the helm up and keep a Trinculo in the next speech

vessel off her course. ' quibbles on ' slander. '

10. set, closed. Trinculo
misunderstands. 29. deboshed, debauched.

458

sc. ii The Tempest

Cal. Lo, how he mocks me ! wilt thou let him,
my lord ?

Trin. ' Lord ' quoth he ! That a monster
should be such a natural !

Cal. Lo, lo, again ! bite him to death, I
prithee.

Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your 40
head : if you prove a mutineer, — the next tree !
The poor monster's my subject and he shall not
suffer indignity.

Cal. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be
pleased to hearken once again to the suit I made
to thee?

Sfe. Marry, will I : kneel and repeat it ; I will
stand, and so shall Trinculo.

Enter ARIEL, invisible.

Cal. As I told thee before, I am subject to a
tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated
me of the island. so

Ari. Thou liest.

Cal. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou :
I would my valiant master would destroy thee !
I do not lie.

Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more
in 's tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of
your teeth.

Trin, Why, I said nothing.

Ste. Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.

Cal. I say, by sorcery he got this isle ; &>

From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him, — for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not, —

Ste. That's most certain.

Cal. Thou shall be lord of it and I '11 serve thee.

459

The Tempest ACT m

Ste. How now shall this be compassed ? Canst
thou bring me to the party ?

CaL Yea, yea, my lord : I '11 yield him thee

asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.

Ari. Thou liest ; thou canst not. 7o

CaL What a pied ninny 's this ! Thou scurvy

patch !

I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
And take his bottle from him : when that 's gone
He shall drink nought but brine ; for I '11 not

show him
Where the quick freshes are.

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger :
interrupt the monster one word further, and, by
this hand, I '11 turn my mercy out o' doors and
make a stock-fish of thee.

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing. I '11 80
go farther off.

Ste. Didst thou not say he lied?

Ari. Thou liest.

Ste. Do I so ? take thou that. [Beats Trin.']
As you like this, give me the lie another time.

Trin. I did not give the lie. Out o' your wits
and hearing too ? A pox o' your bottle ! this
can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your
monster, and the devil take your fingers !

Cal. Ha, ha, ha ! 90

Ste. Now, forward with your tale. Prithee,
stand farther off.

CaL Beat him enough : after a little time
I '11 beat him too.

Ste. Stand farther. Come, proceed.

CaL Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him,

75. quick freshes, springs of 79. make a stock-fish of thee,
fresh water. i.e. beat thee, like dried cod.

460

sc. H The Tempest

I' th' afternoon to sleep : there thou mayst brain

him,

Having first seized his books, or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
First to possess his books ; for without them 100

He 's bui a sot, as I am, nor hath not
One spirit to command : they all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
He has brave utensils, — for so he calls them, —
Which, when he has a house, he '11 deck withal.
And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter ; he himself
Calls her a nonpareil : I never saw a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she ;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax no

As great'st does least.

Ste. Is it so brave a lass ?

Cal. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.
And bring thee forth brave brood.

Ste. Monster, I will kill this man : his daughter
and I will be king and queen, — save our graces ! —
and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost
thou like the plot, Trinculo ?

Trin. Excellent.

Ste. Give me thy hand : I am sorry I beat
thee ; but, while thou livest, keep a good tongue 120
in thy head.

Cal. Within this half hour will he be asleep :
Wilt thou destroy him then ?

Ste. Ay, on mine honour.

An. This will I tell my master.

Cal. Thou makest me merry; I am full of
pleasure :

99. wezand, windpipe. 105. he'll deck withal, i.e.

101. sot, fool. deck the house with.

The Tempest ACT m

Let us be jocund : will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere ?

Ste, At thy request, monster, I will do reason,
any reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. [Sings.

Flout 'em and scout 'em J3o

And scout 'em and flout 'em ;
Thought is free.

Cal, That 's not the tune.

{Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.

Ste. What is this same ?

Trin. This is the tune of our catch, played by
the picture of Nobody.

Ste. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy
likeness : if thou beest a devil, take 't as thou list.

Trin. O, forgive me my sins !

Ste. He that dies pays all debts : I defy thee. 140
Mercy upon us !

Cal. Art thou afeard?

Ste. No, monster, not I.

Cal. Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt

not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show

riches 150

Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.

Ste. This will prove a brave kingdom to me,
where I shall have my music for nothing.

127. while-ere, a short while known. In the print prefixed to

ago. the comedy of Nobody and Some-

136. the picture of Nobody. body, 1600, ' Nobody ' is a man

Several such ' pictures ' are with only head, arms, and legs.

462

sc. in The Tempest

Cal. When Prospero is destroyed.

Ste. That shall be by and by : I remember the

story.

Trin. The sound is going away ; let 's follow it,
and after do our work.

Ste. Lead, monster ; we '11 follow. I would I
could see this laborer ; he lays it on. 160

Trin. Wilt come ? I '11 follow, Stephano.

\Exeunt.

SCENE III. Another part of the island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. By 'r lakin, I can go no further, sir ;
My old bones ache : here 's a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders ! By your

patience,
I needs must rest me.

Alon. Old lord, I cannot blame thee,

Who am myself attach'd with weariness,
To the dulling of my spirits : sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope and keep it
No longer for my flatterer : he is drown'd
Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. »

Ant. \Aside to Seb^\ I am right glad that he 's

so out of hope.

Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolved to effect.

Seb. \Aside to Antl\ The next advantage

Will we take throughly.

156. by and by, immedi- 3. forlh-rights, straightfor-

ately. ward paths.

i. By'rlakin,\)y our ladykin, 5. attach'd, seized.

i.e. the Virgin. 13. advantage, opportunity.

463

The Tempest ACT

Ant. [Aside to Seb.~] Let it be to-night ;
For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.

Seb. [Aside to Ant.~\ I say, to-night : no more.

[Solemn and strange music.
Alon. What harmony is this ? My good friends,

hark !
Gon. Marvellous sweet music !

Enter PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several
strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet ; they
dance about it with gentle actions of saluta
tion ; and, inviting the King, etc., to eat, they
depart.

Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens ! What
were these ?

Seb. A living droller}'. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns, that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix
At this hour reigning there.

Ant. I '11 believe both ;

And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I '11 be sworn 'tis true : travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn 'em.

Gon. If in Naples

I should report this now, would they believe me ?
If I should say, I saw such islanders —
For, certes, these are people of the island —
Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet,

note,

Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.

Pros. \Aside~\ Honest lord,

21. drollery, puppet-play.
464

The Tempest

Thou hast said well ; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.

Alon. I cannot too much muse

Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, ex
pressing —

Although they want the use of tongue — a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.

Pros. \Aside\ Praise in departing.

Fran. They vanish'd strangely.
Seb. No matter, since 4o

They have left their viands behind ; for we have

stomachs.
Will 't please you taste of what is here ?

Alon. Not I.

Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we

were boys,

Who would believe that there were mountaineers
Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging

at 'em

Wallets of flesh ? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now

we find

Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Good warrant of.

36. muse, wonder at. one, upon what he had 'put-out,'

39. Praise in departing, a and losin& a11 claim to il if he
proverbial phrase, meaning : miscarried. The locus classics
Do not praise till the entertain- on the subJect is m Ben Jonson s
ment is over Every Man out of His Humour,

ii. i, where Puntarvolo proposes

44. mountaineers, savages. to - put forth some five thousand

48. Each putter-out of five pounds to be paid me, five for

for one, i.e. every adventurous one, upon the return of myself,

traveller. This refers to a kind of my wife, and my dog from the

Life Insurance then customary. Turk's court at Constantinople.'

The traveller deposited a certain But it is incredible that so high

sum before starting, receiving, a rate can have been obtained

if he returned safely, repayment for less complicated risks or

at a certain rate, usually five to shorter journeys.

VOL. IV 465 2 H

The Tempest ACT

A/on. I will stand to and feed,

Although my last : no matter, since I feel
The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.

Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a
harpy ; claps his wings upon the table ; and,
with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.

Art. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in 't, the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you ; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit ; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad ;
And even with such-like valour men hang and

drown
Their proper selves.

[A Ion., Seb. etc. draw their swords.

You fools ! I and my fellows &>
Are ministers of Fate : the elements,
Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that's in my plume : my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted. But remember —
For that 's my business to you — that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero ; 70

Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child : for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,

54. to instrument, as its instrument, or organ.
65. dowle, film of down.

466

sc. in The Tempest

Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,

They have bereft ; and do pronounce by me

Lingering perdition, worse than any death

Can be at once, shall step by step attend

You and your ways ; whose wraths to guard you

from —

Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls BO
Upon your heads — is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder ; then, to soft music, enter
the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and
mows, and carrying out the table.

Pros. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform'd, my Ariel ; a grace it had, devouring :
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say : so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms

work

And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions ; they now are in my power ; 9o
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drownM,
And his and mine loved darling. \_Exit above.

Gon. I' the name of something holy, sir, why

stand you
In this strange stare ?

Alon. O, it is monstrous, monstrous !

Methought the billows spoke and told me of it ;
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
The name of Prosper : it did bass my trespass.

82. clear, blameless. 99. bass my trespass, pro-

86. good life and observation claimed my offence with its deep

strange, lifelike precision and roll.

rare attention.

467

The Tempest ACT

Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded, and

I '11 seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded

And with him there lie mudded. [Exit.

Seb. But one fiend at a time,

I '11 fight their legions o'er.

Ant. I '11 be thy second.

[Exeunt Seb. and Ant.

Gon. All three of them are desperate : their

great guilt,

Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.

Adr. Follow, I pray you. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Before PROSPEROUS cell.

Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.

Pros. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends, for I
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live ; who once again
I tender to thy hand : all thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test : here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,

108. ecstasy, madness. 3. a third, i.e. a main portion.

7. strangely, rarely.

468

The Tempest

For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise i0

And make it halt behind her.

Fer. I do believe it

Against an oracle.

Pros. Then, as my gift and thine own acqui
sition

Worthily purchased, take my daughter : but
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow ; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew 2o

The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both : therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.

Fer. As I hope

For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day's celebration
When I shall think, or Phcebus' steeds are founder'd, 30
Or Night kept chain'd below.

14. purchased, won. now with his heroism (Ant. and

18. aspersion, sprinkling, ' as cle°- »• 3- *9). now with his

of dew. weakness (ib. ii. 3. 21). Here,

on the contrary, the evil impulses

26. suggestion, temptation. of men are asctibed to a spedal

27. Our worser genius, the 'worser genius ' whom a 'better'
demon within us. Elsewhere genius resists. The passage
Shakespeare's language suggests goes far to show that the whole
a single genius or guardian doctrine was with Shakespeare
spirit presiding over, but within, little more than inherited phrase-
each man, — and associating ology.

itself now with his planning 30. founder d, disabled (by
intellect (Jul. C&s. ii. i. 66), over-riding).

469

The Tempest ACT iv

Pros. Fairly spoke.

Sit then and talk with her ; she is thine own.
What, Ariel ! my industrious servant, Ariel !

Enter ARIEL.

Art. What would my potent master? here I am.

Pros. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last

service

Did worthily perform ; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place :
Incite them to quick motion ; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple 40

Some vanity of mine art : it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.

Ari. Presently ?

Pros. Ay, with a twink.

Ari. Before you can say ' come ' and ' go,'
And breathe twice and cry ' so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? no?

Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not ap
proach
Till thou dost hear me call.

Ari. Well, I conceive. [Exit. 5o

Pros. Look thou be true ; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein : the strongest oaths are straw
To the fire i' the blood : be more abstemious,
Or else, good night your vow !

Fer. I warrant you, sir ;

The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.

Pros. Well.

Now come, my Ariel ! bring a corollary,

47. mop and mow, grimaces. 57. corollary, supernumerary.
470

sc. i The Tempest

Rather than want a spirit : appear, and pertly !
No tongue ! all eyes ! be silent. [Soft music.

Enter IRIS.

Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas 60
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease ;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns ; and thy

broom-groves,

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn ; thy pole-clipt vineyard ;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
Where thou thyself dost air; — the queen o' the sky, 7o
Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign

grace,

Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport : her peacocks fly amain :
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

61. vetches, Ff fetches, an are 'trimmed' with flowers,

archaic and provincial form of Hence the less picturesque but

the word. perhaps more logical interpreta-

63. stover, straw of rye, barley, tion has latterly gained ground,
or wheat, used as winter-fodder according to which the ' banks'
for cattle. are those of trenches or dykes

64. banks with pioned and dividing cornlands, artificially
twilled brims. Two interpre- heaped up (pioned) and
tations still compete for the ' furrowed ' or ' faced with mire '
possession of this line. Accord- (Fr. fouiller). Can twilled
ing to one, it refers to a river describe the appearance of the
bank overgrown with ' mari- two banks running in ' twinned '
golds ' and ' reeds. ' But the parallel lines between the
meanings thus given to pioned meadows?

and twilled rest on very doubtful 66. broom -groves, luxuriant

authority ; while the following copses of broom,

line implies that the banks are 68. pole - dipt, having vines

' pioned and twilled ' before they clinging about its poles.

471

The Tempest

Enter CERES.

Cer, Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffuses! honey-drops, refreshing showers,
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown So
My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth ; why hath thy queen
Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green ?

Iris, A contract of true love to celebrate ;
AnM some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.

Cer. Tell me, heavenly bow,

If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen ? Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company 9o

I have forsworn.

Iris. Of her society

Be not afraid : I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have

done

Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
Till Hymen's torch be lighted : but in vain ;
Mars's hot minion is return'd again ;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows too
And be a boy right out.

Cer. High'st queen of state,

Great Juno, comes ; I know her by her gait.

85. freely estate, liberally allusion to the story, Winl.
bestow. Tale, iv. 4. 118.

89. Dis, Pluto. Cf. Perdita's

472

sc. i. The Tempest

Enter JUNO.

Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go

with me

To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be
And honour'd in their issue. \_Thty sing:

Juno. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you !
Juno sings her blessings on you.

Cer. Earth's increase, foison plenty, no

Barns and garners never empty,
Vines with clustering bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burthen bowing ;

Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest !
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres' blessing so is on you.

Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?

Pros. Spirits, which by mine art 120

I have from their confines call'd to enact
My present fancies.

Fer. Let me live here ever ;

So rare a wonder'd father and a wise
Makes this place Paradise.

\Juno and Ceres whisper, and send
Iris on employment.

119. charmingly, magically. troduces a disturbing touch of

121. confines, abodes. banality. Ferdinand certainly

123. wise. Some copies of did not mean that the island

Fj read wife, which was adopted would be Paradise with any

by Rowe, Pope, and some later wife any more than with any

editors. But that reading in- father.

473

The Tempest ACT iv

Pros. Sweet, now, silence !

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously ;
There's something else to do: hush, and be

mute,
Or else our spell is marr'd.

Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring

brooks,

With your sedg'd crowns and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels and on this green land 130
Answer your summons ; Juno does command :
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love ; be not too late.

Enter certain Nymphs.

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry :
Make holiday ; your rye-straw hats put on *
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they
join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance ;
towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts sud
denly, and speaks ; after which, to a strange,
hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.

Pros. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates 140

Against my life : the minute of their plot
Is almost come. \To the Spirits^ Well done !
avoid ; no more !

128. windring ; an otherwise said of the circling ripples and
unknown word, evidently mean- dimples of a meadow-brook; not
ing, and probably misprinted for, of its winding course.

either winding or -wandering. 130. land, (probably) laund,

129. sedg'd, sedge-woven. lawn.

130. crisp, curled ; probably 142. avoid, away !

474

sc. i The Tempest

Fer. This is strange : your father 's in some

passion
That works him strongly.

Mir. Never till this day

Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.

Pros. You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay'd : be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air : iSO

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd ;
Bear with my weakness ; my old brain is troubled :
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity : 160

If you be pleased, retire into my cell
And there repose : a turn or two I '11 walk,
To still my beating mind.

Fer. Mir. We wish you peace. [Exeunt.

Pros. Come with a thought. I thank thee,
Ariel : come.

145. distemper'd, excited. Those golden pallaces, those gorgeous

148 f. This famous passage withhafo^n;ture superfluouslie faire :

may have been suggested by Those statelie courts, those sky-
one in The Tragedie of Darius, encountering walles

by W. Alexander, afterwards Evanish all like vapours in the aire.
Earl of Stirling (1603) :_ ^ ^^ possesSi

Let greatnesse of her glascie scepters ^g rack, cloud. The word

NorsTepters, no, but reeds, soone has no connection with 'wrack,'

bruis'd, soone broken ; which Malone erroneously sub-

And let this worldlie pomp our wits stituted.

All 'f^eTand scarcelie leaves behind ' &• rounded, embraced, en-

a token. compassed.

475

The Tempest

Enter ARIEL.

Art. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy

pleasure ?

Pros. Spirit,

We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

Art. Ay, my commander : when I presented

Ceres,

I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd
Lest I might anger thee.

Pros. Say again, where didst thou leave these

varlets ? 170

Art. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with

drinking ;

So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces ; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet ; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor ;
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick 'd their

ears,

Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music : so I charm'd their ears
That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and

thorns, 180

Which enter'd their frail shins : at last I left them
I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul

lake
O'erstunk their feet.

Pros. This was well done, my bird.

Thy shape invisible retain thou still :

167. presented, played. mantled.

1 80. goss, gorse. 184. O'erstunk, (probably)

182. filtky-mantkd, Ff filthy outstunk.

476

sc. i The Tempest

The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.

Art, I go, I go. \_Exit.

Pros. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick ; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost ; 190

And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.

Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, etc.
Come, hang them on this line.

PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible. Enter
CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet.

Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole

may not
Hear a foot fall : we now are near his cell.

Ste. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a
harmless fairy, has done little better than played
the Jack with us.

Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse- piss ; at
which my nose is in great indignation. 200

Ste. So is mine. Do you hear, monster ? If I
should take a displeasure against you, look you, —

Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster.

Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still
Be patient, for the prize I '11 bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance : therefore speak

softly.
All 's hush'd as midnight yet.

Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool, —

187. stale, decoy. 198. Jack, Jack o' lantern,

193. line, probably a hair will o' the wisp,
clothes-line. 206. hoodwink, conceal.

477

The Tempest ACT w

Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour
in that, monster, but an infinite loss. 210

Trin. That 's more to me than my wetting :
yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.

Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be
o'er ears for my labour.

Cat. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See'st thou

here,
This is the mouth o' the cell : no noise, and

enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this

island

Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.

Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have
bloody thoughts. 220

Trin. O king Stephano ! O peer ! O worthy
Stephano ! look what a wardrobe here is for thee !

Cal. Let it alone, thou fool ; it is but trash.

Trin. O, ho, monster ! we know what belongs
to a frippery. O king Stephano !

Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo ; by this hand,
I '11 have that gown.

Trin. Thy grace shall have it.

Cal. The dropsy drown this fool ! what do you

mean 230

To dote thus on such luggage ? Let 's alone
And do the murder first : if he awake,
From toe to crown he '11 fill our skins with pinches,
Make us strange stuff.

Ste. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is

221. O king Stephano! O 225. frippery, old -clothes

peer ! O worthy Stephano ! shop,
alluding to the ballad, ' Take

thy old cloak about thee,' where 231. Let' s alone, i.e. go alone.

the line occurs ' King Stephen ' Alone ' is perhaps an error for

was a worthy peer. ' ' along. '

478

sc. i The Tempest

not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the
line : now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair
and prove a bald jerkin.

Trin. Do, do : we steal by line and level, an 't
like your grace. 2+°

Ste. I thank thee for that jest ; here 's a gar
ment for 't : wit shall not go unrewarded while I
am king of this country. ' Steal by line and level '
is an excellent pass of pate ; there 's another gar
ment for 't.

Trin. Monster, come, put some lime upon
your fingers, and away with the rest.

Cal. I will have none on 't : we shall lose our

time,

And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villanous low. 250

Ste. Monster, lay-to your fingers : help to bear
this away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll
turn you out of my kingdom : go to, carry this.

Trin. And this.

Ste. Ay, and this.

A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits,
in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them
about, PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on.

Pros. Hey, Mountain, hey !

236-238. Stephano plays upon the horse-hair line on which it

two current senses of the phrase: hung.

(!) staked (at tennis), and so 239- »? *"" and level>

waiting to be claimed, the wager methodically
being deposited • under the line ' ; 244- pass of pate, sally of wit.
(2) on the equator, where fevers 249- **™ ^nT^T'h

might be contracted resulting in to be bred in shell-fish wh ch

loss of hair. Hence the jerkin grew upon a tree known as the

is ' like to prove a bald jerkin.1 • goose-tree ' or ' barnacle-tree

But the latter phrase has also and ascribed by the sixteenth-

here like the former, a literal century herbalists to Scotland

sense : the jerkin is ' like to lose ' and the North of England.
479

The Tempest ACT v

Art. Silver ! there it goes, Silver !

Pros. Fury, Fury ! there, Tyrant, there ! hark !
hark ! \_Cal., Ste., and Trin. are driven out.
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews 260
With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make

them
Than pard or cat o' mountain.

Art. Hark, they roar !

Pros. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lie at my mercy all mine enemies :
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom : for a little
Follow, and do me service. \Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Before PROSPERO'S cell.

Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL.

Pros. Now does my project gather to a head :
My charms crack not ; my spirits obey ; and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How 's the day ?

Art. On the sixth hour ; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.

Pros. I did say so,

When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and 's followers ?

Ari. Confined together

In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them ; all prisoners, sir,

262. cato' mountain, wild cat. carriage, marches on erect under
3. Goes upright with his his burden.

480

sc. i The Tempest

In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell ; 10

They cannot budge till your release. The king,

His brother and yours, abide all three distracted

And the remainder mourning over them,

Brimful of sorrow and dismay ; but chiefly

Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord,

Gonzalo ; '

His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly

works 'em

That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.

Pros. Dost thou think so, spirit ?

Art. Mine would, sir, were I human.

Pros. And mine shall. 2o

Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relisli all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to

the quick,

Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury
Do I take part : the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel : 30
My charms I '11 break, their senses I '11 restore,
And they shall be themselves.

Ari. I '11 fetch them, sir. \Exit.

Pros. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes
and groves,

10. line-grove, grove of linden- Medea in Ovid's Metamorphoses,

(or lime-)trees. vii. 197-206, as translated by

2T. touch, sense. Golding, beginning :—

24. Passion, feel. Ye Ayres and Windes, ve Elves of

11 f This invnratinn wa<; Hilles, of Brookes, of Woods alore,

1 was Of standing Lakes, and of the Night

probably modelled on that of approche ye everychone.

VOL. IV 481 21

The Tempest

And ye that on the sands with printless foot

Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him

When he comes back ; you demi-puppets that

By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,

Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime

Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice

To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid, 4o

Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd

The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,

And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault

Set roaring war : to the dread rattling thunder

Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak

With his own bolt ; the strong-based promontory

Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up

The pine and cedar : graves at my command

Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth

By my so potent art. But this rough magic 50

I here abjure, and, when I have required

Some heavenly music, which even now I do,

To work mine end upon their senses that

This airy charm is for, I '11 break my staff,

Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,

And deeper than did ever plummet sound

I '11 drown my book. [Solemn music. •"

Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a
frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO ; SE
BASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner, at
tended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO : they all
enter the circle which PROSPERO had made,
and there stand charmed ; which PROSPERO
observing, speaks:

A solemn air and the best comforter

37. green sour ringlets, circles attributed to the dancing of
formed by grass of deeper colour fairies by night,
and sharper flavour, popularly 47. spurs, spreading roots.

482

sc. i The Tempest

To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,

Now useless, boil'd within thy skull ! There stand, 60

For you are spell-stopp'd.

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,

Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,

And as the morning steals upon the night,

Melting the darkness, so their rising senses

Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle

Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,

My true preserver, and a loyal sir

To him thou follow'st ! I will pay thy graces 70

Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly

Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter :

Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.

Thou art pinch'd for 't now, Sebastian. Flesh and

blood,

You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
ExpelPd remorse and nature ; who, with Sebastian,
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive

thee,

Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide so

Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of

them

That yet looks on me, or would know me : Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell :
I will disease me, and myself present

60. boil'd, frenzied. Pope's with,
correction of Ff boile. ' Un- 64. Fall, let fall,

settled fancy ' was popularly 67. ignorant fumes, fumes of

ascribed to a 'seething' of the ignorance,
brain. 69. sir, gentleman.

62. Holy, upright. 70. pay, requite.

63. sociable to, sympathising 85. disease, disrobe.

483

The Tempest ACT v

As I was sometime Milan : quickly, spirit ;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

ARIEL sings and helps to attire him.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I :

In a cowslip's bell I lie ;

There I couch when owls do cry. 5o

On the bat's back I do fly

After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Pros. Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall

miss thee ;

But yet thou shalt have freedom : so, so, so.
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art :
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches ; the master and the boatswain
Being awake, enforce them to this place, i<x>

And presently, I prithee.

Ari. I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat. \_Exit.

Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder and amaze
ment

Inhabits here : some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearful country !

Pros. Behold, sir king,

The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero :
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body ;
And to thee and thy company I bid no

A hearty welcome.

88. Where the bee sucks. The Ballads, 1660. It was probably

musical setting of this song by that used in the original per-

R. Johnson is preserved in formance.
Wilson's Cheerfull Ay res or

484

sc. i The Tempest

Alon. Whether thou be'st he or no,

Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know : thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood ; and, since I saw

thee,

The affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me : this must crave,
An if this be at all, a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should

Prospero
Be living and be here?

Pros. First, noble friend, 120

Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measured or confined.

Go/i. Whether this be

Or be not, I '11 not swear.

Pros. You do yet taste

Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all !
[Aside to Seb. and Ant.~\ But you, my brace of

lords, were I so minded,

I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you
And justify you traitors : at this time
I will tell no tales.

Sel>. \Aside\ The devil speaks in him.

Pros. No.

For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother 130

112. trifle, unsubstantial ' art ' is cognisant of Sebastian's

thing, phantasm. 'aside.' The curtness of the

124. subtilties, fantastic reply has excited suspicion and

fictions ; the customary term for led to the emendation : ' Now

the figures of animals or persons (for you).' But the 'No' is

wrought in pastry or confec- itself a kind of aside addressed

tionery, which regularly occurred to Sebastian; and as Prospero

in Elizabethan banquets. does not mean to betray him,

128. justify, prove. its curtness is quite in keep-

129. No. Prospero by his ing.

485

The Tempest ACTV

Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault ; all of them ; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,
Thou must restore.

Alon. If thou be'st Prospero,

Give us particulars of thy preservation ;
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wreck'd upon this shore ; where I have lost —
How sharp the point of this remembrance is ! —
My dear son Ferdinand.

Pros. I am woe for 't, sir.

Alon. Irreparable is the loss, and patience 140

Says it is past her cure.

Pros. I rather think

You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid
And rest myself content.

Alon. You the like loss !

Pros. As great to me as late ; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.

Alon. A daughter?

O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there ! that they were, I wish 150
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. WThen did you lose your
daughter ?

Pros. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire
That they devour their reason and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath : but, howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain

145. As great to me as late, as great as it is recent.
154. admire, wonder.

486

sc. i The Tempest

That I am Prospero and that very duke

Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most

strangely 160

Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was

landed,

To be the lord on 't. No more yet of this ;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir ;
This cell 's my court : here have I few attendants
And subjects none abroad : pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing ;
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye 170

As much as me my dukedom.

Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and
at chess.

Mir. Sweet lord, you play me false.

Fer. No, my dear'st love,

I would not for the world.

Mir. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should

wrangle,
And I would call it fair play.

Alon. If this prove

A vision of the Island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.

Seb. A most high miracle !

Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merci

ful ;
I have cursed them without cause. {Kneels.

Alon. Now all the blessings

Of a glad father compass thee about !
Arise, and say how thou earnest here.

Mir. O, wonder !

How many goodly creatures are there here !
487

180

The Tempest

How beauteous mankind is ! O brave new world,
That has such people in 't !

Pros. 'Tis new to thee.

Alon. What is this maid with whom thou wast

at play ?

Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours : **\
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us, •
And brought us thus together ?

fer. Sir, she is mortal ;

But by immortal Providence she 's mine :
I chose her when I could not ask my father 190

For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before ; of whom I have
Received a second life ; and second father
This lady makes him to me.

Alon. I am hers :

But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness !

Pros. There, sir, stop :

Let us not burthen our remembrance with
A heaviness that 's gone.

Gon. I have inly wept, 200

Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you

gods, ^

And on this couple drop a blessed crown !
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.

Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo !

Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his

issue

Should become kings of Naples ? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy, and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars : In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis
488

sc. i The Tempest

And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.

Alon. \To Fer. and Mir.~\ Give me your hands :
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy !

Gon. Be it so ! Amen !

Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain
amazedly following.

O, look, sir, look, sir ! here is more of us :

I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,

This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,

That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on

shore ?
Hast thou no mouth by land ? What is the news ? 220

Boats. The best news is, that we have safely

found

Our king and company ; the next, our ship —
Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split —
Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when
We first put out to sea.

Art. [Aside to Pros.~\ Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went.

Pros. [Aside to Ari.~\ My tricksy spirit !

Alon. These are not natural events ; they

strengthen

From strange to stranger. Say, how came you
hither ?

Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake,

223. glasses, hours. The v. 186 shows that Shakespeare
seaman's ' glass ' in Shake- is here following his ordinary
speare's time has been shown to usage of the word,
have been half an hour ; but

489

The Tempest

I 'Id strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, 23o
And — how we know not — all clapp'd under

hatches ;
Where but even now with strange and several

noises

Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awaked ; straightway, at liberty ;
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master
Capering to eye her : on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them
And were brought moping hither.

An. [Aside to Pros.] Was 't well done ? 24o

Pros. [Aside to An'.] Bravely, my diligence.

Thou shalt be free.
A/on. This is as strange a maze as e'er men

trod ;

And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of : some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.

Pros. Sir, my liege,

Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business ; at pick'd leisure
Which shall be shortly, single I '11 resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happen'd accidents ; till when, be cheerful 250
And think of each thing well. [Aside to Ari.~\

Come hither, spirit :
Set Caliban and his companions free ;
Untie the spell. [Exit Arie!.~\ How fares my

gracious sir?

230. dead of sleep, in a dead 248. resolve you, give you an

sleep. explanation.

247. pick'd, chosen. 249. Which, i. e. the explana-

248. single, alone, in private. tion.

490

sc. i The Tempest

There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.

Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO
and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.

Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let
no man take care for himself; for all is but for
tune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio !

Trin, If these be true spies which I wear in
my head, here 's a goodly sight. 260

Ctrl. O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed !
How fine my master is ! I am afraid
He will chastise me.

Seb. Ha, ha !

What things are these, my lord Antonio ?
Will money buy 'em ?

Ant. Very like ; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

Pros. Mark but the badges of these men, my

lords,

Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch, and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, 270
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil —
For he 's a bastard one — had plotted with them
To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own ; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler ?

Seb. He is drunk now : where had he wine ?

267. badges, silver plates 271. deal in her command

bearing their master's arms, -without her power, exercise her

worn by servants as part of their influence beyond her sphere,
livery.

49 *

The Tempest ACT v

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe : where

should they

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em ? as0

How earnest thou in this pickle ?

Trin. I have been in such a pickle since I
saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of
my bones : I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano !

Ste. O, touch me not ; I am not Stephano, but
a cramp.

Pros. You 'Id be king o' the isle, sirrah ?

Ste. I should have been a sore one then.

Alon. This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd
on. [Pointing to Caliban.

Pros. He is as disproportion'd in his manners 290
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell ;
Take with you your companions ; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will ; and I '11 be wise hereafter
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god
And worship this dull fool !

Pros. Go to ; away !

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where
you found it.

Seb. Or stole it, rather.

\Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin.

Pros. Sir, I invite your highness and your train 3oo
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night ; which, part of it, I '11 waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away ; the story of my life

279. reeling ripe, intoxicated 280. gilded 'em, made them

to the reeling-point. Analogous glow,
phrases were : tumbling • ripe,

weeping-rife, crying-ripe. 302. waste, spend.

492

EPIL. The Tempest

And the particular accidents gone by

Since I came to this isle : and in the morn

I '11 bring you to your ship and so to Naples,

Where I have hope to see the nuptial

Of these our dear-beloved solemnized ;

And thence retire me to my Milan, where 310

Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon. I long

To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pros. I '11 deliver all ;

And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to Ari.~\ My Ariel,

chick,

That is thy charge : then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well ! Please you, draw
near. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have 's mine own,
Which is most faint : now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell ;

309. dear-beloved solemnised. Love's Labour's Lost, ii. i. 42 ;

This scansion is indicated by the sdlemnized in the other three

Ff spelling belov'd. The word verse passages in which Shake-

soiemnized is scanned thus in speare uses it.

493

The Tempest

But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands :
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

9, 10. An invitation to the audience to applaud.

END OF VOL. IV

PR
2753
H4
1902

Shakespeare, William
Works cEversley ed..,

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CARDS OR SLIPS FROM THIS POCKET

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