Martin Droeshout made this engraving for the
First Folio Edition of 1623, a fact which estab-
lishes it as the most reliable likeness of Shake-
speare extant, outranking possibly the Stratford
Bust. The original from which Droeshout
worked is probably the portrait reproduced in
the Second Volume.
-^msf
The Complete Works of
William Shakespeare
Imprinted from the First Folio
Edited by Charlotte Porter
andH. • ^.rke ^ With an
Introducii lohnChurton
Collins M.A. D.Litt. ^
Vol. I
The Tempest
Tivo (jentlemen of IJerona
dAIerrij Waives of Windsor
London
T. Fisher Unwin
Adelphi Terrace
PR
P(o
V.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
THE design of the present edition of Shakespeare
is twofold: it is to furnish the general reader
with all that is necessary for the intelligent study, in
the commonly accepted sense of the term, of each one
of the plays — with glossaries, that is to say, and with
what is requisite in the way of commentary and pro-
legomena for the elucidation of the text and for the
history generally of the drama — its source or sources,
the probable date of its composition, the influences
affecting it, its relation to the poet's other works.
Where the text of the First Folio is deficient and has
to be supplemented from the Quartos, the deficiencies
are supplied within brackets. This edition thus presents
compactly what every serious reader of Shakespeare
necessarily requires. But this is quite subordinate to
its main design. What it possesses in common with
those in vogue has been introduced simply to give it
completeness, and in order that the reader may find in
succinct epitome all the information practically required
for intelligent study.
But what differentiates this edition from all others
and gives it its unique value and importance requires
particular explanation. It is not too much to say that
the textual and critical study of Shakespeare has
hitherto been confined exclusively to specialists and
scholars. The general reader, so far from having any
facilities for such a study, has not even learned to
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
recognise its importance. For upwards of two cen-
turies and a half he has taken what the poet's editors
have chosen to give him, and what they have given him
has been a concoction the quaHty and characteristics
of which have been determined partly by the idiosyn-
crasies of particular editors, and partly by the literary
tastes and fashions of particular epochs. In fact, the
text of Shakespeare presents, in the nature of the
modifications it has undergone, an exact analogy to the
exhibition of his dramas on the stage. Hamlet, as
represented by Burbage and Lewen, by Betterton, by
Garrick, by Booth, by Fechter, by Irving, and under
the scenic and theatrical conditions in which they
represented him, differed scarcely more than the text of
the drama as it appears successively in the First Folio,
the editions of Rowe, of Theobald, of Hanmer, of
Warburton, of Capell, of the Variorum editors, of
Andrew Becket, of Charles Knight, of J. Payne
Collier, and of the Cambridge editors. The history
of Shakespeare's text is, in fact, the history of a text
corrupted beyond all precedent of corruption, deviating,
and deviating demonstrably, far more widely from its
prototype than that of any other poet in the world,
with the single exception of the Homeric poems. To
say that in the current texts of the Greek dramatists,
of Pindar, of Virgil, of Theocritus, and of others, as
well as of the ancient Latin poets generally, we are
very much nearer the original autographs than we are
in the current texts of Shakespeare, is to say what may
seem incredible, but what is, nevertheless, in all pro-
ability, strict truth. This will be best understood by
comparing what may be called the Victorian text of
the poet with that of the Elizabethan — in other words,
Shakespeare's text as it appears in the universally
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
popular Globe edition, an edition which either supplies
or forms the basis of the texts used in all our schools
and educational institutions, and that text as it appears
in the First Folio. But as it is the main object of the
present edition to place the general reader in possession
of the text of the First Folio, and so enable him to
make this comparison for himself, it may be well at
once to explain exactly what is here reproduced, for
what reason it has been reproduced, and how on such a
reproduction must be based not only all hope of re-
covering what the poet actually wrote, but, what is
almost equally important, all possibility of catching as
it were his accent and tone.
What is reproduced, and reproduced with exact
fidelity, is the text of the First Folio, the only varia-
tion being the substitution of modern type for the long
s, the interchangeable / andy, u and v, the occasionally
for th, and the abbreviated the for them. What does
not appear in the First Folio is placed within brackets.
That the deviations from the First Folio, made in what
may be called the Victorian text, represented by the
Globe edition, may be readily seen, they are, when im-
portant enough to affect either the sense or the metre,
noted, together with their sources, at the foot of each
page. The reader has thus as it were in clear and
simple epitome a history of the formation of the
modern text, and is at the same time presented with
that text. As he has before him the corruptions and
deficiencies of the original, or what have been assumed
to be such, he can form his own opinion as to how far
the attempts made to remedy them have been success-
ful or justifiable. Whatever may have been the delin-
quencies of the editors and printers of the First Folio,
and of the scandalous and quite exceptionable laxity
iii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
with which the correctors of the press did their duty,
there can be no doubt one thing is certain : the text
as we find it there is the nearest possible approach we
have to what came from Shakespeare's pen. It is the
basis on which every sound text must rest ; to deviate
from it without absolute necessity is simply unwarrant-
able. It is all, and more, that the Laurentian codex is
to jEschylus and Sophocles, and with deviations from it
begins the rapidly extending corruption of Shakespeare's
text. On scrupulous adherence to it, except where it is
obviously corrupt or obviously deficient, the first con-
dition of an editor's success must depend.
Let us glance at its history. Some eight years after
the poet's death two of his * friends and fellows' —
John Heminge and Henry Condell — collected such of
his plays as they could — probably, with the exception
of * Pericles,' all he wrote or was largely concerned
in — and gave them to the world in a handsome folio.
To this folio was prefixed an Address, a part of which
is so important that it should be literally trans-
cribed :
It had bene a thing, we confesse, worthie to have bene
wished, that the Author himselfe had \W\\ to have set
forth, and overseen his owne writings ; But since it hath
bin ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from
that right, we pray you do not envie his Friends, the office
of their care, and paine, to have collected and published
them ; and so to have publish'd them, as where (before)
you were abus'd with diverse stolne, and surreptitious
copies, maimed, and deformed by the frauds and stealthes
of injurious impostors, that expos'd them : even those, are
now offerM to your view curM, and perfect of their limbes ;
and all the rest, absolute in their numbers, as he conceived
them Who, as he was a happie imitator of Nature, was a
most gentle expresser of it. His mind and hand went
{
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
together : And what he thought, he uttered with that
easinesse, that wee have scarse received from him a blot in
his papers.
The obvious deduction from this important statement
is that the plays published in this volume, so far as we
know for the first time, as well as those which had
appeared in Quarto during the author's lifetime, were
here printed, all of them, from the original manuscripts.
It is also plainly the intention of the editors to discredit
the Quartos by describing them, without distinction,
as * stolen,' * surreptitious,' and * imperfect,' and to
make the reader believe that it is in the Folio alone
that Shakespeare's authentic work is to be found.
Now, how far were Heminge and Condell speaking
the truth ? That they were not speaking the whole
truth is certain, for it can be proved that in the case of
* Love's Labour's Lost,' * Merchant of Venice,' * Mid-
summer-Night's Dream,' * First Part of Henry IV.,'
and * Much Ado about Nothing,' the Folio simply
reprints the maligned Quartos, and that this applies,
with the exception of IV. i. 154-318, to < Richard
II.,' while it is at least in the highest degree probable
that the printers of the Quartos of * Titus Andronicus,'
»2 Henry IV.,' 'Richard III.,' * Hamlet,' *Troilus
and Cressida,' * King Lear,' and * Othello,' must
have had full or partial access to the genuine manuscripts.
Indeed, in some of these plays, notably in * Love's
Labour's Lost,' the * Midsummer-Night's Dream,' and
* Richard 11.,' the readings of the Quarto are prefer-
able to those of the Folio, and it is quite certain that
they must have been printed either more correctly or
printed from a better MS. Nor is this all : many of
the errors and peculiarities with which the First Folio
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
abounds are not such as can be accounted for by the
printer misreading the MS., but must have arisen from
the fact that he was printing from some transcript
made for the use of the theatre. This may account
for the great differences in the state of the text as
regards particular plays. A striking illustration of the
probable correctness of this theory is afforded by
* Hamlet ' as it is printed in the First Folio. Here
we find omitted 1 1, i. 108-125, iv. 17-38, 75-78 ; II.
ii. 17; IV. i. 4, 41-44, iv. 9-66, vii. 68-81, 114-
123 ; and V. ii. 106-141. All these look very like
' cuts ' most judiciously made for acting purposes, and
excise no passage which is relevant to the action, as a
glance at the most important excisions will show.
They are: I. i. 108-125, eminently Shakespearean,
but a mere rhetorical excrescence in the dialogue ; Id.
iv. 17-38, the reflections of Hamlet on drunkenness,
and the influence of heredity in men, which again has
no relevance to the action; and lastly, IV. vii. 114-
123, which is perhaps the most remarkable of the
omissions :
There lives within the very flame of love
A kind of weeke or snufe that will abate it,
And nothing is at a like goodnes still,
For goodnes growing to a plurisie,
Dies in his owne too much, that we would doe
We should doe when we would : for this would changes,
And hath abatements and delayes as many,
As there are tongues, are hands, are acccdents,
And then this should is like a spendthrifts sigh,
That hurts by easing ; but to the quicke of th' ulcer.
a passage pre-eminently Shakespearean, and one which
^ Globe Numbering.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
it would have been deplorable to lose, but inter-
rupting the course of the action. In the case of
* Hamlet ' it is indeed quite possible that the * cuts '
may have been made by the poet himself.
That the text printed in the Folio had been care-
fully revised is certain. A notable instance of this is
afforded by IV. vii. 24 seqq. :
So that my Arrowes
Too slightly timbred/or so loud a nxjinde
Would have reverted to my Bow againe.
Here all the Quartos make nonsense, varying be-
tween * loued arm'd,' * loued armes,' and * loved armes.'
But this can hardly be said for the Folio text of
* Lear,' which, like that of * Hamlet,' has been plainly
printed from a stage copy most recklessly and ignorantly
curtailed by some vandal hand, obviously for the pur-
pose of shortening the play for acting purposes. About
two hundred and twenty lines which appear in the
Quartos have here been excised, and about half the
•excisions are fully justified, but among them are the
following : —
Teares his white haire.
Which the impetuous blasts with eyles rage
Catch in their furie, and make nothing of,
Strives in his little world of man to outscorne,
The too and fro conflicting wind and raine.
This night wherin the cub-drawne Beare would couch,
The Lyon, and the belly pinched Wolfe
Keepe their furre dry, unbonneted he runnes,
And bids what will take all.
III. i. 9-10.
When we our betters see bearing our woes : ,
we scarcely thinke, our miseries, our foes.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Who alone suffers suffers most it'h mind,
Leaving free things and happy showes behind.
IILvi. 6i
And so to the end of the scene.
Alb. I feare your disposition
That nature, which contemnes ith origin
Cannot be bordered certaine In it selfe.
She that her selfe will sliver and disbranch
From her materiall sap, perforce must wither,
And come to deadly use.
Gon. No more, the text is foolish.
Alb. WIsedome and goodness to the vild seeme vllde,
Filths savor but themselves, what have you done ?
Tigers, not daughters, what have you performed ?
A father, and a gracious aged man
Whose reverence even the head-lugd beare would lick.
Most barbarous, most degenerate have you madded,
Could my good brother suffer you to doe it ?
A man, a Prince, by him so benifited.
If that the heavens doe not their visible spirits
Send quickly downe to tame this vild offences, it will come,
Humanity must perforce pray on it self like monsters of
the deepe.
IV. li. 38.
To stand against the deepe dread bolted thunder,
In the most terrible and nimble stroke
Of quicke crosse lightning to watch poore Per du.
With this thin helme.
IV. vii. 41.
It is perfectly clear that the exciser of such passages
as these could have been a man of no taste or sensi-
bility, but must have been bent only on shortening the
play. To this it must be added that the Folio con-
tains fifty lines which are not to be found in the
Quartos, and that, though the text is in parts appar-
I
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
ently a reprint of the Quartos, much of it is quite
independent of them. The only possible explanation
can be that Heminge and Condell printed their text
from a stage copy, which had as little connection with
the original manuscript as it had with the manuscript
followed by the Quartos.
Another presumption that the printers of the First
Folio printed from stage copies transcribed for the
actors, with varying degrees of fidelity and clearness
in the handwriting, is afforded by a comparison of such
a text as that of the * Two Gentleman of Verona ' or
the * Tempest,' and that of * All's Well that Ends
Well.' In the first there are scarcely any important
misprints or corruptions at all, they being indeed practi-
cally confined to the substitution of * Padua ' and
* Verona ' for * Milan ' in Acts II. III. and V., and it is
so with the text of the * Tempest.' But in 'All's
Well that Ends Well' they simply teem, giving the
impression that the text must have been set up from
some manuscript unusually difficult to decipher.
The respective relations of the Quartos to the First
Folio, and of both to the original manuscripts, are
problems beyond all solution now. What probability
])oints to is this, that of the plays which appeared in
Quarto during Shakespeare's lifetime, the following
were printed by publishers who had full access to the
original manuscripts, and probably retained them, so that
Heminge and Condell could not use them in printing
the First Folio, * Love's Labour's Lost,' * Mid-
summer - Night's Dream,' * Merchant of Venice,'
* I Henry IV.,' and *Much Ado about Nothing' ; that
in the case of * Titus Andronicus,' * Richard III.,'
* Richard II.,' 2 Henry IV.,' « Hamlet,' * King Lear,'
* Troilus and Cressida,' and * Othello,' published
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
after the poet's death in 1622, the printers of the
Quartos and the editors or corrector of the First
Folio had both of them full or partial access to the
original manuscripts, and availed themselves of them
in printing their texts. In the third group, and in that
group only, come the Quartos, rightly designated by
Heminge and Condell as *stoln,' * maimed,' and
* deformed ' — namely, the Quarto of 2 Henry VI., pub-
lished in 1 594, under the title of * The First Part of
the Contention,' etc., without the author's name, and re-
printed in 1600 ; the Quarto of * 3 Henry VI.,' brought
out in 1595, under the title of * The True ' Tragedie
of Richard, Duke of Yorke, and the death of the
good King Henry the Sixth,' etc. — also without the
author's name, and reprinted in 1600 ; the first Quarto
of * Romeo and Juliet,' published in 1597, without the
author's name ; the Quarto of * Henry V.' published in
1600, without the author's name, and reprinted in 1602
and in 1608 ; the Quarto of* Merry Wives of Windsor,'
printed in 1602, without the author's name; and the
first Quarto of *Hamlet,' 1603, with the author's
name. All these were undoubtedly printed surrepti-
tiously from pirated stage copies, and it is to these that
Heminge and Condell directly and honestly referred,
though they ambiguously, possibly with the intention
of deceiving, seemed to extend their reference to all
the others. These are the conclusions at which
Messrs Vandam and StofFel, in one of the most valu-
able contributions which has ever been made to the
textual study of Shakespeare, have, after an exhaustive
comparative study of the Quarto and the Folio,
arrived.
When therefore Heminge and Condell asserted that
they printed the plays from the original manuscripts,
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
and that these were the sources of their text, they said
what was substantially, though not wholly, true. Several
of the plays were demonstrably printed directly from
the Quartos ; some of them were printed as clearly
from stage copies, but from stage copies collated in
all probability with the original manuscripts. But of one
thing we may be quite certain : where the compositors
could avail themselves of print they would do so, and
where a stage legibly written copy was at their service
they would not be induced, by any superstitious reverence
for an illegible autograph, to treble their labours. If
Shakespeare's signatures are any indication of his
ordinary handwriting, he must certainly have been the
terror of compositors.
So much for the text of the First Folio where it is
possible to check it by comparison. But of the thirty-
six plays contained in it, it is the sole authority for the
text of twenty, no quartos of which are known to
exist — namely, * i Henry VI.,' and in their present
form 2 and 3, * Two Gentlemen of Verona,' * King
John,' * Comedy of Errors,' * As You Like It,'
* Taming of the Shrew,' 'Twelfth Night,' * All's
Well that Ends Well,' * Julius Caesar,' * Macbeth,'
*Timon of Athens,' ' Coriolanus,' * Antony and
Cleopatra,' * Measure for Measure,' * Henry VIII.,'
* Winter's Tale,' * Ternpe^t/ and *Cymbeline.' When
we think that but for Heminge and Condell these
plays might have been lost to the world, we may well
hesitate to say a word in disparagement of such
benefactors. But it is impossible not to regret that
they did not give what, with comparatively little trouble,
they might have given us — a text undeformed by the
gross and palpable errors with which it teems. They
seem to have contented themselves with revising and ar-
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
ranging the manuscripts for publication, leaving every-
thing else to the printers, and to those who corrected
for the press, both of whom performed the work with
scandalous negligence. Hunter indeed scarcely ex-
aggerates when he says that * perhaps in the whole
annals of English typography there is no record of any
book, of any extent and reputation, having been dismiss'd
from the press with less care and attention.'
At its worst, it exhibits all the defects peculiar to the
first uncorrected proofs of an impression set up from a
manuscript exceedingly difficult to decipher by an
unusually careless and incompetent compositor —
words, the restoration of which is obvious, left un-
supplied ; unfamiliar words transliterated into gibberish ;
whole lines dropped out ; lines transposed ; verse
printed as prose and prose as verse ; punctuation as
it pleases chance ; speeches belonging to one character
given to another ; stage directions incorporated in the
text ; actors' names suddenly substituted for those of
the dramatis personge : scenes and acts left unindicated
or indicated wrongly.
All this and more contribute to make it too often one of
the most exasperating examples of typography and editing
in existence. And yet, oddly enough, side by side with
this, we find indication of scrupulously careful printing,
and this is as a rule the case in all the great passages,
where particular attention has evidently been paid
to punctuation. Let the reader turn, for example, to
the soliloquy of Henry V. (Act IV. i. 231-291 )i; to
Antony's twospeeches (^Julius Caesar,' III. ii. 83-1 17
and Id. 128-147) '•> to Portia's appeal to Mercy,
(*Merchant of Venice, 'IV. i. 195-216), andLorenzo's
beautiful speech (V. i. 64-78) ; to Macbeth's two
1 The references are given to the present edition.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
soliloquies (I. vii. 1-33 and II. i. 44-77) ; to the
fine speeches of Agamemnon and Nestor, which open
the third scene of * Troilus and Cressida,' deformed
only by one palpable misprint ; the famous soliloquy of
Hamlet (III. i. 63-99) ; the Duke's speech in
* Measure for Measure' (III. i. 7-43) ; the two speeches
of Prospero (* Tempest,' IV. i. 168-185 and V. i.
40-64). It will be seen that in all these passages,
and be it remembered that they are typical of almost
all the others when the poet's composition is elaborate,
no departure from the Folio text can be anything else
than detrimental.
Before illustrating the disastrous results of tampering
unnecessarily with the text of the Folio, it may be well
to show how, by reproducing both its spelling and its
punctuation, the tone and accent of the poet, the race
and flavour, as it were, of his style are preserved, as in
no other way they can be preserved. There was
much wisdom and as much taste in what Dr Johnson
observed, when in an edition of John Hale's writings
prepared by one of his descendants, his ancestor's
language was modernised. * An author's language,'
said Johnson, * is a characteristic part of his composi-
tion and is also characteristic of the age in which he
lives. Besides, Sir, when the language is changed we
are not sure that the sense is the same.' It may be
contended, as the Cambridge editors have contended
in justifying their modernisation of the text, that spelling
in Shakespeare's time, and for half-a-century after-
wards, was purely capricious. This was undoubtedly
the case. As Ingleby puts it : * We may rest assured
that every compositor in a printing-house spelt pretty
much as seemed good in his own eyes.' The printers
indeed evidently preferred variation to uniformity. If
xiii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
they had set up, says Inglehy, foort/j, poorcj ivoorse on
one occasion,ybr//', porcj and ivorse would be substituted
on the next. Thus hair, ha'tre, heare ; beared, hear d,
and heard were interchangeable, so dost, doest, doost,
and heart, hart, hert ; fair, fayre, faire, and recover,
recourer, and recure. In the * Rape of Lucrece '
* desperate' is spelt in line 219 desperate, in 1. 739
desperat, in 1. 1038 desfrat. In * Venus and Adonis' we
find in 1. 162 died, in 1. 498 dy'de, in 1. 1080 dCde.
Undoubtedly the punctuation not only proceeds on
principles very different from ours, but, owing to gross
carelessness on the part of the compositor, does not
always follow those principles, yet, for all this, it is at
times employed with great care, and should certainly be
retained. It is the same with the use of capital letters,
which are evidently used for purposes of accentuation,
and should also be retained. Now, capricious though
they be, and occasionally even puzzling and misleading,
it is the antique spelling, the punctuation, and the use
of capitals — in other words, the preservation of the
exact medium through which the poet conversed with
those whom he addressed — that enables us not only to
recall his world, but to catch as it were his exact accent.
A modernised text cannot possibly convey the same
aesthetic impression as that which preserves the antique
flavourof theoriginal. Renovated castles and ^improved'
cathedrals are no doubt in many respects preferable to
the venerable fabrics on whose sites they stand, but they
neither have, nor can they recall, the charm of what
they have superseded. The power of poetry in
relation to its subtlest and most delicate effects is more
dependent than we suppose on the form in which that
poetry is presented to us. Let anyone read the follow-
ing passages presented respectively in the Victorian and
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
in the Elizabethan text, and ask himself whether the
effect is 2esthetically in both cases the same : —
Oh my Soules Joy :
If after every Tempest, come such Calmes,
May the windes blow, till they have waken'd death :
And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas
Olympus high : and duck againe as low.
As heirs from Heaven. If it were now to dye,
'Twere now to be most happy. For I feare,
My Soule hath her content so absolute.
That not another comfort like to this,
Succeedes in unknowne Fate.
* Othello,' II. i. 212-221.
O my soul's joy !
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have wakenM death !
And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die,
'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.
We may notice in passing how admirably in the
original both the spelling and the capitals, as well as the
punctuation, accentuate the passage almost like musical
notation.
Take again Hamlet's soliloquy :
To be, or not to be, that is the Question :
Whether 'tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles.
And by opposing end them : to dye, to sleepe
No more j and by a sleepe, to say we end
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
The Heart-ake, and the thousand Naturall sh-ecJces
That Flesh is heyre too? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To dye to sleepe,
To sleepe, perchance to Dreame j I, there's the rub,
For in that sleepe of death, what dreames may come,
When we have shuffleFd off this mortall coile,
Must give us pawse. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life :
For who would beare the Whips, and Scornes of time,
The Oppressors wrong, the poor|^ mans Contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd Love, the Lawes delay.
The insolence of Office, and the Spumes
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himselfe might his ^ietus make
With a bare Bodkin ? Who would these Fardles beare
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death.
The undiscovered Countrey, from whose Borne
No Traveller returnes, Puzels the will,
And makes us rather beare those illes we have,
Then flye to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hew of Resolution
Is sicklied o're, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprizes of great pith and moment.
With this regard their Currants turne away.
And loose the name of Action.
Surely we have here a text as finally settled as any
text can be, spelling, capitals, and punctuation alike
contributing to the elucidation of the poet's meaning.
It is not necessary to place beside it the Victorian text,
which, being readily accessible, any reader can compare
for himself; of its inferiority to the original in all the
points in which it differs there can be, in truth, no
question.
It cannot be too strongly emphasised that by far the
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
greater portion of the text of the First Folio is not
only perfectly sound and carefully punctuated, but
cannot be altered except for the worse, that its corrup-
tions, innumerable though they be, spring for the most
part from mere printer's errors, simple carelessness on
the part of the compositor, the majority of them being
as easily remedied as the errors familiar to us in first
proofs. Take, for instance, the following, where all
that is needed to turn nonsense into sense is to separate
the letters : —
Urchins
Shall /or that vast of night, etc.
« Tempest,' I. ii. 385-386.
where all that is required is to separate th from * at ' and
connect it with ybr, so
Urchins
Shall forth at vast of night.
Again :
Fairies be gone, and be ahwaies away.
* Midsummer-Night's Dream,' IV. i. 47.
where by reading *alwaies' (all ways) the sense is
restored. So in < Henry V.' IV. iii. 1 1 5-1 18 :
Marlce then abounding valour in our English :
That being dead, like to the bullets erasing,
Breake out into a second course of mischiefe.
Killing in relapse of Mortalitie.
Here by separating the a from hounding, and removing
the colon at the end of the line, the passage is restored.
So in ' Measure for Measure,' IV. ii. 57 :
You shall finde vcit y'are.
Remove the comma, read * yare ' (ready), and all is
sense.
i. z xvii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
So is Jllcides beaten by his rage.
* Merchant of Venice,' II. i. 41.
Change r into p and all is as clear, as all is clear in
'Titus Andronicus/ III. ii. 65, by inserting the
dropped-out / before t in doings :
And buz lamenting do{l)ings in the ayer.
So in *Troilu8 and Cressida/ I. iii. 41-42.
But let the T^ssian Boreas once enrage
The gentle l/ietis.
Substitute the easily confounded^for ssy so getting
Ruffian, and the right word is restored.
Again in * Julius Caesar,' IV. i. 42-43.
The substitution of an ^ for an 0 and an 0 for an
j^ turns the nonsense of
One that feeds
On Objects, dirts, and Imitations
into the sense of
On AbjectSy Orts, and Imitations.
The substitution again of t for r in 'Macbeth,' III.
ii. 18:
We have scorch'd (scotchM) the Snake, not kiird it.
i.e, scotched gives us almost certainly what Shakespeare
wrote ; while the insertion of an h in ' Troilus and Cres-
sida,' II. iii. 78 — he s(h)ent our messengers — gives
point to what before was not only pointless, but non-
sensical. So in 'Antony and Cleopatra,' I. ii. 123-
124, the substitution of m for w rectifies
Oh then we bring forth weeds,
When our quicke ivindes lye still.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
just as in the * Midsummer-Night's Dream,' II. i. 113-
1 1 5, the substitution of / for c turns arrant nonsense
into sense :
And on old Hyems chinne (thinne) and Icie crowne,
An odorous Chaplet, etc.
Once more. In 'Troilus and Cressida,' IV. v. 70
occurs the well-known crux :
That give a coasting welcome ete it comes.
Here all that is necessary to recover the original is
to join the a with the c, reading accoasiing, and turn the
i into an r, and so we get :
giving accoasting [accosting] welcome ere it comes.
i.e. moving alongside a welcome, or meeting it before
it comes.
Such are illustrations of the simple rectification of
errors typical of at least more than half the corruptions
of the First Folio. Others are cured merely by re-
vising the punctuation, a memorable illustration of
which would be the famous lines in * Macbeth,' II. ii.
78-79:
This my Hand will rather
The multitudinous Seas incarnardine,
Making the Greene one, Red.
where the removal of the comma after one restores the
meaning, especially if we accept Ingleby's proposal to
read their for the. It may, however, be noticed in
passing that it is dangerous to tamper with punctuation
unnecessarily, though very striking and brilliant effects
may sometimes be produced, as in * Timon of Athens,'
V. iv. 93-96, where the Folio points thus :
xix
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Yet Rich Conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye
On thy low Grave, on faults forgiven. Dead
Is Noble Timon.
but which Theobald thus proposes to punctuate :
On thy low grave. — On : fault's forgiven,
Dead, etc.,
supposing that Alcibiades is suddenly addressing the
senators and attendants. And this he supports by
Antony's
On.
Things that are past, are done, with me.
'Antony and Cleopatra,' I. ii. io8.
and by observing that Alcibiades' speech is in breaks
between his reflections on Timon's death and his
address to the Athenian senators. Another illustration
is in * Coriolanus,' I. iv. 48-51.
Marcius is addressing his flying troops :
All the contagion of the South, light on you,
You Shames of Rome : you Heard of Byles and Plagues
Plaister you oVe, that you may be abhorr'd
Farther then seene.
This Johnson and the editors who have followed
him point :
You shames of Rome, you heard (herd) of — Boils and
Plagues
Plaster you o'er.
making a break after of, as if the fury of his passion left
him at a loss for vituperative epithets.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
In all the instances given above, and in numberless
others, we have not only legitimate and obvious correc-
tions of the text of the First Folio, but such as
cry for amendment, and such as Heminge and Con-
dell's * readers ' should themselves have made. Let us
now turn to some illustrations of the corruptions im-
ported into Shakespeare's text by unnecessary deviations
from the text of the Folio, and of the danger involved
in tampering with it. A brief review of some of the
most typical of them will show that Messrs Vandam
and Stoffel have not exaggerated when they say that
those who have departed from that text, from the editor
of the Second Folio downward, have imported far
more corruptions into it than they have corrected. It
will also show the wisdom of the reaction which is
now setting in against modernisations of that text, and
the necessity of faithful literal adherence to it except
where corruption is demonstrable. What even general
readers now require is to be put, so far as it is pos-
sible, in possession of what the poet actually wrote, not
what his editors have attributed to him. Shakespeare
was undoubtedly a careless writer, and, except in his
more elaborate passages, probably troubled himself
little about the minutise of expression, so that it is
often possible to improve his phraseology and to
substitute felicities for commonplaces. We have also
to remember that what grates on our ears, or on our
taste, did not grate either on him or on his con-
temporaries. To us, for example, such a collocation
as
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuffe j
or
If this poor trash of Venice whom I tras/i ;
xxi
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
or
To England will I steale and there I'll steale,
is intolerable, but, so far from being intolerable then, it
was studiously affected.
To us such expressions as
The great man down you mark \\\^ favourites flies
and
Hath all his ventures failed,
are gross solecisms, but in his time ' s ' and * th ' were
plural inflections. Now to comb away these things
as modern editors do is both critically and historically
to falsify his text. Nor is this all ; it may be, and is,
a subordinate point of interest in the works of a great
poet that he throws light on the philology of the
language in which he writes, on peculiarities in expres-
sion and in colloquial parlance common to the style of
his time, on customs and habits and on antiquities
generally, but if a subordinate interest it is a very real
one. In a modernised text much of this is necessarily
lost, and in a text ignorantly tampered with all of it is
in danger of being obscured.
In his quaint and learned treatise * Shakespeare Her-
meneutics or the Still Lion,' Ingleby has given several
illustrations of the danger of tampering with the old
text, pointing out how often what appears to be
unintelligible, and what has therefore been altered
by editors, only awaits complete investigation to justify
and interpret. Of this there is a very striking example
in * Hamlet.' In Act II. sc. ii. 352-354 Hamlet says
to Rosencrantz, referring to the plays :
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
The humorous man shall end his part in peace : the
Clowne shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickled a
t/f sere.
Till a few years ago the expression remained the
despair of commentators. Warburton cut the knot by
omitting it, merely observing that it was the reading
of the First Folio. Malone proposed to substitute
scene for * sere ' and to explain * o ' by * by.'
Steevens supposed that * sere ' meant ' serum ' in the
medical sense of phlegm, and interpreted as meaning
* those who are asthmatical, and to whom laughing is
most uneasy.' Some, among them Douce, resorted to
another meaning of * sere' — namely, * withered' or *dry.'
* Everyone,' says Douce, * has felt that dry tickling
in the throat and lungs which excites coughing.
Hamlet's meaning may be, therefore, the clown by his
merriment shall convert their coughing into laughter.*
Many commentators either gave it up or inclined
to Malone' s conjecture. Ingleby himself, rejecting
Malone's * scene ' and adopting what Staunton had
proposed — namely * tickle ' for * tickled ' — got with
Steevens' aid on the right track. Steevens, though
not knowing what to do with it, had noticed something
which seemed to approach a parallel in the * Tempest,'
and with the words * Will the following passage in
the '* Tempest," Act. II. sc. i. 179-182, be of any
use to commentators ? ' quoted it :
I do well beleeve your Highnesse, and did it to minister
occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of such sensible and
nimble Lungs, that they alwayes use to laugh at nothing.
With this passage, and Staunton's * tickle ' for
* tickled ' to help him, Ingleby explained that the
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
words, * whose lungs are tickled a' the sere ' should
have the same meaning as * whose lungs are sensible
Ij.e. sensitive^, that is, easily made to explode in
laughter.' So far so well, but this left * sere '
unexplained. At last, in 1 87 1, Dr Brinsley Nicholson
came to the rescue. * Sere ' or * serre,' or, as it is
now spelt, *sear' or *scear,' was the catch in a gunlock
which kept the hammer on full or half cock and was
released by the trigger. So Lombard, as quoted in
Halliwell's * Archaic Dictionary' : * Even as a pistole
that is already charged and bent will flie off by and by
\t.e, immediately] if a man doe but touch the seare.'
This was confirmed by the Cambridge editors, who
quoted a passage from Howard's * Defensative against
the Poyson of Supposed Prophecies ' which gave Douce
the key though he failed to see it — * discovering the
moods and humours of the vulgar to be so /oose and
tickle of the seare J
Thus for nearly two centuries had the text of the
First Folio to await an interpreter, and thus has it
pointed an impressive lesson to those who would
rashly tamper with it. Again, in the * Second Part
of Henry VI.' (Act I. sc. iii. 1-3), Peter the
Armourer's man says :
My Masters, let's stand close, my Lord Protector will
come this wzy by and by, and then wee may deliver our
Supplications in the ^iuill.
Here the editors, supposing the phrase * in the Quill ^
to be corrupt, variously proposed ' in the quoil ' — i.e.
coil or confusion ; * in quiet,' * in sequel,' * in the
quile,' etc.
But at last, not till as late as 1864, the reading of
the Folio was proved to be perfectly correct, one
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
writer quoting Ainsworth's * Dictionary,' where the
phrase, assumed to be an ordinary one, is explained as
equivalent to ex compacto agere. Grant White quotes
a Roxburghe ballad :
Thus those females were all in a quill.
In * Winter's Tale,' II. i. 173-174, we find:
Would I knew the Villaine,
I would Land-damne him.
Here all the old and modern editors suspected cor-
ruption, one proposing to substitute * laudanum,' another
* half-damn,' another * I'd geld and damn him,' another
again * Lord, damn him,' and yet all the time the word
was perfectly correct.
Another striking example of the disastrous effects
of tampering with the text of the Folio is afforded by
* Julius Cassar,' I. iii. 22-23 :
Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,
Who glazd upon me.
This has been variously altered into * glared ' and
* gaz'd,' the first being ignorantly adopted in the Globe
edition, or what may be called the Victorian text.
But the Folio reading is perfectly correct, the word
* glaze ' meaning to * stare steadily.' It is so employed
twice by Peele, in * Sir Clyomon and Sir Clamydes' :
Jesu, what a glazing do you make at me to see me in a
gowne.
And not long did that glazing star ;
and by James I. in his version of the * Urania ' of Du
Bartas :
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
I gave a lustie glaize
For to descryne the Trojan Kings of olde,
though the meaning has in this last passage been ex-
plained differently. ^ In *Coriolanus/ IV. v. 227-229
for a magnificently vigorous and graphic word has been
ignorantly substituted flat commonplace.
Let me have Warre say I, it exceeds peace as farre as
do's night : It's sprightly walking, audible, and full of
Vent.
Here the editors, not understanding the word ' vent,'
have assumed that it is a misprint for * vaunt,' and so in
innumerable editions of Shakespeare we find it printed.
But * vent * is perfectly right, being a technical term
from hunting, vent meaning to scent the game ; so in
the old poem of the * Blazon of the Heart ' we find :
And when my hound doth straine upon the <vent.
The graphic force of the word is finely illustrated
in * Henry V.,' III. i. 34-35, where Shakespeare em-
ploys the same metaphor :
I see you stand like Grey-hounds in the slips,
Straying upon the Start.
In * Julius Csesar,' II. i. 95, we find :
For if thou path thy native semblance on.
This, though perfectly right, has been variously
altered into * march,' * put,' * hadst,' * pass ' ; < path '
being constantly used in this sense, all that is needed
being the insertion of a comma after the word.
1 See 'New English Dictionary,' jw/^. 'voc.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Ignorance is also responsible for another alteration
in the text of the * Merry Wives,' II. iii. 81-83, an
alteration unfortunately adopted in the Globe text :
I will bring thee where Mistris Anne Page is, at a
Farm-house a Feasting : and thou shalt wooe her : Cride-
game, said I well ?
Here for * Cride-game ' * Cried I aim ? ' has been
substituted, and the whole point of the passage missed
in consequence. The allusion is, as Ingleby pointed
out, to hare-hunting, where a person was employed and
paid to find the hare. When she was found he first
cried * Soho ' to let the pursuers know that he had
found her, so that * Cride-game' is simply * Cried I
game ? ' Anne Page is the hare, and the host is dis-
covering her whereabouts to Caius. The substitution,
therefore, of * Cried I aim ? ' is not only unnecessary,
but misses the point.
In many of these unnecessary and impertinent
deviations from the text of the Folio, ignorance of the
phraseology in vogue in Shakespeare's time is re-
sponsible. Thus in *As You Like It,' III. v. 40,
we find :
And why I pray you ? who might be your mother
That you insult, exult, and all at once
Over the wretched ?
Here for * all at once ' have been substituted * insult
and exult all at once,' *and tyrannise,' *and domineer,'
and yet the phrase is one of the commonest in Eliza-
bethan English, as a reference to the commentation on
* Henry V.,' I. i. 40-42 :
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Nor never Hidra-hesided Wilfulnesse
So soone did loose his Seat j and all at once }
As in this King.
will show.
Ignorance, again, of the common form of Eliza-
bethan spelling is responsible for many unnecessary
alterations in the text. We have an amusing illustra-
tion of this in < King John,' V. ii. 1 39-1 40 :
This harness'd Maske, and unadvised Revell,
This un-heard sawcinesse of boyish Troopes.
where it has been proposed to substitute for the ap-
parently unintelligible * un-heard,' * unhair'd,' when, of
course, * unheard ' is simply a common form of * un-
haired.'
There is another example of this in the same play
(IV. i. 101-102) :
Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.
Art. O heaven : that there were but a moth in yours,
where the stupid commentators have supposed that the
word * moth ' means the insect, whereas it is the or-
dinary way of spelling ' mote,' into which it has been
officiously and superfluously altered.
But illustrations of these impertinences and of the
mischief involved in tampering unnecessarily with the
text of the Folio would be endless. I will therefore
confine myself to citing a few examples from the Globe
text. The editors of this text have certainly had the
good sense to adopt, as a rule, a policy of conservatism ;
it is greatly to be deplored that they have not adhered
to it more closely. I have already given one or two
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
examples of their mistaken departure from it. Nothing
c^uld be worse than the following : —
As thick as Tale
Can (came) post with post.
* Macbeth/ I. iii. 106-107.
That is, as fast as the messengers could be counted,
they came, a pre-eminently Shakespearean expression.
For this is substituted the vapid commonplace.
As thick as hail
Came, etc.
And Fortune on his damned Scarry smiling,
Shew'd like a Rebells Whore.
Id. I. ii. 20-21.
* quarry ' meaning a heap of slaughtered foes, being
a metaphor from hunting. For this is substituted
* quarrel,' thus losing the graphic image, and totally
altering the sense.
In the passage II. iii. 125 seqq.^ thus correctly
arranged and pointed in the Folio :
Those of his Chamber, as it seem'd, had don't :
Their Hands and Faces were all badgM with blood,
So were their Daggers, which unwip'd, we found
Upon their Pillowes : they starM, and were distracted,
No mans Life was to be trusted with them.
the latter part is rearranged and repointed thus,
utterly ruining the rhythm, so studiously marked by
the original,
So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
Upon their pillows :
They stared, and were distracted j no man's life
Was to be trusted with them.
and III. i. 90-100 fares in the same way.
xxix
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
In IV. iii. 275 :
This time goes manly. •
meaning, of course, rhythm of a tune, is altered and
flattened into * tune.'
In * Hamlet,' Li. 115 :
' Shark \1 up a List oi handles se Resolutes'
appears as * lawless,' thus again turning distinction into
vapid commonplace, and spoiling the rhythm. So
*Dread my Lord' (I. ii. 56), the ordinary Elizabethan
phrase, appears as ' My dread lord.' So again the
simpler and perfectly intelligible and appropriate ex-
pression of Polonius (III. iv. 6) :
lie silence me e'ene heere,
is impertinently altered into * I'll sconce,'
Equally unwarrantable is the substitution of ' lesser '
for * taller' in Le Beau's description of Celia (*As
You Like It,' I. ii. 272). In the * Tempest,' V. i.
70-72, we find :
A solemne Ayre, and the best comforter.
To an unsetled fancie, Cure thy braines
(Now uselesse) boile within thy skull.
In Elizabethan grammar nothing Is so common as
the omission of the relative pronoun, even when a con-
struction intolerably harsh to us is the result. It will
scarcely be believed that the Globe editors have sub-
stituted for this the inexpressibly ludicrous correction
of Pope, * boiled,' and we are to understand by this
that Prosper© prays that a solemn Ayre may cure
Gonzalo's brains, which had been boiled in his skull !
In * Coriolanus,' 1. i. 90 seqq. Menenius says :
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
I shall tell you
A pretty Tale, it may be you have heard it,
But since it serves my purpose, I will venture
To scale t a little more.
Here a most graphic word, meaning to scatter in
every direction, and not at all uncommon in Elizabethan
English, is deliberately ousted that the vapid and
prosaic * stale ' may take its place.
In the beautiful passage in * 2 Henry IV.,' Act
IV. v. 35-36 the Folio reads :
By his Gates of breath,
There lyes a dcnulney feather, which stirres not.
the word * dowlney,' or * do wine,' being the common
Elizabethan spelling of * downy ' and ' down.' This
is altered into * downy,' greatly impairing the rhythm,
whether * 1 ' was sounded or not.
It is not necessary to add further instances, but it
may be safely said that our Victorian text must contain
some hundreds of unnecessary deviations from the text
of the First Folio, and when we remember that it not
only modernises the spelling, but the grammar, as well
as adopts not infrequently a new regulation of the text,
it is easy to see how far we are from the original.
In 1632 appeared the Second Folio, and with the
Second Folio begins the systematic corruption of the
text. In the main it is a reprint of the First, preserving
the same pagination. It corrects some of the obvious
errors of the First, but adds many more of its own.
This was succeeded in 1663 by the Third Folio, which,
in addition to the plays comprised in the First and
Second, contained seven additional ones, all spurious
with the exception of * Pericles,' or rather parts of
xzxi
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Pericles. This is a reprint of the Second, and on
the whole a faithful reprint, correcting, however,
some of its obvious errors, but, like the Second,
adding errors of its own. The Fourth Folio, a reprint
of the Third, but modernising much of the phraseology,
and adding further corruptions, appeared in 1685. Then
came in 1709 ' Rowe,' the first editor in the proper
sense of the term. But as his text, instead of being
based on the First Folio, was simply a revised reprint of
the Fourth, he contributed very little to the forma-
tion of a sound text. What little he did was chiefly
confined to supplying the defects of the FoHos by
dividing and numbering the acts and scenes, and by
prefixing a list of dramatis persona to those plays in
which they were wanting. He corrected here and
there a palpable misprint, and he made a few con-
jectures. Rowe was succeeded in 1725 by Pope, and
Pope, eight years after, by Theobald.
It is not necessary for the purposes of this Introduc-
tion to review the long dynasty of editors who fol-
lowed, and to whom we are in various ways indebted
for the elucidation of Shakespeare's works. My
business is simply to point out and illustrate the
necessity of basing a sound study of his writings on
familiarity with the original text. With that text in
our hands we can judge for ourselves how far devia-
tions from it are desirable or necessary ; how far and
when conjectural emendation is really justifiable, and
how far and when it is mere impertinence. Certainly
there is no more interesting chapter in the history of
literary criticism, whether as illustrating an insight,
an acumen, and a taste which momentarily place a
critic almost on a level with the genius he is elucidat-
ing, or as illustrating the depths of stupidity, opacity,
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
and folly to which vanity can sink men than the
records of Shakespearean textual recension.
Undoubtedly the text of the First Folio abounds in
cruces on which ingenuity can legitimately exercise
itself. And our gratitude should be as ungrudgingly
bestowed on those who honestly grapple with them,
and get light out of darkness, as our contempt belongs
to those whose puny vanity induces them to interfere
unnecessarily with what needs no alteration, simply that
they may get a niche in such annals of impertinence and
imbecility, as the apparatus at the foot of the pages in
the Cambridge edition affords.
Conjectural emendations where they are justifiable —
that is, where the text is corrupt and unintelligible, or
where there is a reasonable suspicion that a wrong word
has been substituted for a right — may be divided into two
classes : those which may be accepted without hesi-
tation, and those which, however ingenious and plausible,
should not be allowed a place in the text. Let us take
a few illustrations of each. Dame Quickly, in * Henry
V.,' n. iii. 15-17, is describing FalstafPs death, and
both the Quartos and First Folio, followed by the
others, read :
After I saw him fumble with the Sheets, and play with
Flowers, and smile upon his fingers end, I knew there was
but one way : for his Nose was as sharpe as a Pen, and a
Table of greene fields .
Here there is something plainly wrong, either to be
accounted for by corruption or the importation of ir-
relevant matter, probably some note scribbled on the
margin of the manuscripts, into the text. Theobald, by
the alteration of one letter and the addition of another,
i. 3 xxxiii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
flashed out what is probably the most felicitous emenda-
tion in the world :
a' babbled of greene fields.
It is exceedingly doubtful whether Shakespeare wrote
this, but of one thing we may feel certain, that he would
have adopted it. Again in < Timon of Athens,' IV.
iii. 127-129 we find:
Let not the Virgins cheelce
Make soft thy trenchant Sword : for those Milke pappes
That through the <windo'w Barne bore at mens eyes.
When Theobald substitutes * window Lawne ' — i.e.
lawn transparent as a window — and we remember
Phineas Fletcher's :
Lest eyes should surfeit with too greedy sight,
Transparent lawnes with-hold, more to increase delight.
Purple Island, Canto II. St. 8.
we feel instinctively that he has recovered what the
poet wrote. So in the same play (I. i. 33-34), when
we read :
Our Poesie is as a Gtnvne^ 'which uses
From ^whence "'tis nourisht.
we know that desperate corruption is crying aloud for
remedy, and we know that the remedy is found in
Our Poesie is as a Gumnie 'which oozes
From whence 'tis nourished.
In * Antony and Cleopatra,' I. iv. 51-53, one absurd
word makes nonsense of a very fine passage :
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
This common bodie,
Like to a Vagabond Flagge upon the Streame,
Goes too, and backe, lacking the varrying tyde
To rot it selfe with motion.
Theobald substitutes *lacquying,' and we know we
have got what the poet wrote, or would have gratefully
adopted.
So again in the same play (V. ii. 106-107) :
An Anthony it was,
That grew the more by reaping.
* Autumn^ a conjecture confirmed by the context, sets
all right.
Again in *Macbeth,' I. vii. 8 seqq,^ where we find :
That but this blow
Might be the be all, and the end all. Heere,
But heere, upon this Banke and Schoole of time,
Wee'id jumpe the life to come.
we are satisfied that the removal of the full stop at * all '
and the alteration of * Schoole ' into * Shoal,' restores
the genuine text. No possible exception could be taken
to any of the following, which may be added to those
referred to earlier in this Introduction : —
Oh that she could speake now, like a 'zi;o«/^-woman.
* Two Gentlemen of Verona,' II. iii. 30.
«;rW(mad).
Som Dick
That smiles his cheeke \x\.yeares.
* Love's Labour's Lost,' V. ii. 517,
* In jeers.*
Now I see
The mistrie of your lo'velinesse.
* All's Well,' I. Iii. 170-171.
* Loneliness,*
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
Who neigh'd so hye, that what I would have spoke,
Was beastly dumbe by him.
* Antony and Cleopatra/ I. v. 56-57.
DurnVd by him.'
All plum'd lik
^Wing the winde.'
All plum'd like Estridges, that nuith the Winde.
*i Henry IV.,' IV. i. 112.
Nor on him put
The Naples Vesture of Humilitie.
'Coriolanus/ II. i. 262-264.
' Napless'
What harme can your beesome Conspectuities gleane out
of this Charracter.
Id., II. i. 65-66.
* Bisson,' (blind or bleared).
Will these moyst Trees,
That have out llv'd the Eagle.
*Timon,' IV. iii. 243-244.
* Mossed,'
An. Why, would that have mended my haire ?
To. Past question, for thou seest it will not coole my nature.
'Twelfth Night,' I. iii. 94-95.
* Curl by nature.'
Thy palenesse moves me more then eloquence.
* Merchant of Venice,' III. ii. 112.
* Plainness.' Here the context absolutely confirms the
correction.
Hound or Spaniell, Brache, or Hym.
' Lear,' III. vi. 30.
* Lyniy' a species of bloodhound.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
You Gods, I pray.
* Coriolanus,' V. ili. 52.
« Prate:
These are typical of hundreds of others, and these
are obviously such corrections as a proof reader might
and should have made. In the second class come many
which certainly improve what is found in the Folio, and
are such as Shakespeare might have adopted, but yet
leave us doubtful as to whether they do restore what the
poet actually wrote. Such would be Theobald's sub-
stitution of * the sun ' for * the same ' in * Romeo and
Juliet,' Li. 154-155.
Ere he can spread his sweete leaves to the ayre,
Or dedicate his beauty t© the same.
But the turn of the original is so common in
Elizabethan verse that, flat as it seems to us, it may
yet have been what the poet wrote. The same may
be said of Theobald's exquisite substitute of * witch '
for * watch ' in
To sit and njoatch me as Ascanius did,
When he to madding Dido would unfold, etc.
* 2 Henry VI.,' III. ii. 127-128.
So, too, of his correction, * make ' for * mock,' in
* Othello,' III. iii. 193-195 :
Oh, beware my Lord, of jealousie,
It is the greene-ey'd Monster, which doth mocke
The meate it feeds on.
Of the improvement made by the substitution of
this word there can be no question, but it is possible
the original reading is correct. Nothing could
xxxvii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
be happier than the following, which are perfectly
justified by the plain corruption of the original text,
and yet we should hesitate about pronouncing them
conclusive : —
Her insuite comming with her moderne grace,
Subdu\i me to her rate.
' Airs Well,' V. ill. 249-250.
* Her infinite cunning,*
For your part,
To you, our Swords have leaden points Marke Antony :
Our Armes in strength of malice ^ and our Hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receive you in.
'Julius Caesar,' III. i. 195-198.
* Our Arms in strength of amitie,'
As amity is a favourite word with Shakespeare,
there is much to support the probability of this con-
jecture. On the other hand, perverted ingenuity could
scarcely go further than Staunton's suggested emenda-
tion of * Cymbeline,* V. i. 21-23 :
'Tis enough
That (Britaine) I have kill'd thy Mistris : Peace,
He give no wound to thee.
* I have kill'd thy Mistris-piece^ though it is sup-
ported, as Ingleby notes, by a passage in Ford's < Lady's
Trial,' I. ii :
Him have we beleaguered to accost
This she-piece,
and possibly by * Winter's Tale,' I. ii. 53-54 :
I love thee not a Jarre o' th'Clock, behind
What Lady she her Lord.
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
In * I Henry IV./ I. i. 5 :
No more the thirsty entrance of this Soile,
Shall daube her lippes with her owne childrens blood.
plainly cries for correction, and in all probability Monk
Mason's brilliant conjecture ^Erinnys ' supplies it. Far
less successful is Singer's suggested amendment of the
obscure expression in * As You Like It,' II. vii. 77 :
Till that the wearie verie meanes do ebbe.
namely, * the wearer's very meanes.'
The desperate passage in * Timon of Athens,' IV.
iii. 13-14:
It is the Pastour Lards, the Brothers sides.
The want that makes him leave.
has been by the united suggestions of Rowe and Singer
thus amended :
It is the Pasture lords the rother^s sides,
The want that makes him leane.
which would be perfectly satisfactory if * rother' — an ox
— were ever found without the addition of * beast ' ; but
according to Ingleby no such instance has been found.
Of the many attempts to amend the well-known crux in
* Hamlet,' I. iv. 19, which is not, however, found in the
First Folio —
The dram of eale
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
To his owne scandle.
Theobald's still remains the best :
The dram of base
Doth all the noble substance of worth dout,
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
— i,e. extinguish — supported as it is by <Cymbeline,'
III. V. iio-i 1 1 :
From whose so many waights of basenesse, cannot
A dram of worth be drawne.
The famous cruces, such as that in * Winter's Tale,'
II. i. 161-163:
If it prove
Shee's otherwise, He keepe my Stables where
I lodge my Wife, He goe in couples with her.
that in 'Tempest,' III. i. 16-17 :
But these sweet thoughts, doe even refresh my labours,
Most busie lest, when I doe it.
that in * Much Ado about Nothing,' V. i. 18-20 :
If such a one will smile and stroke his beard,
And sorrow, wagge, crie hem, when he should grone.
and that in * Romeo and Juliet,' III. ii. 5-7 :
Spred thy close Curtalne Love-performing night.
That run-a^wayes eyes may 'wincke^ and Romeo
Leape to these armes, untalkt of and unseene.
These and some other passages have never been
satisfactorily emended and explained.
On the other hand, corruption has often been assumed
where the text is probably quite sound, the obscurity
arising from Shakespeare's abrupt terseness or plethoric
superfetation of thought and careless impatience of
elaboration. Such would be * Timon of Athens,' I. i.
61-63:
My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moves it selfe
In a wide Sea of wax.
xl
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
* Antony and Cleopatra,' V. ii. 204-205 :
I shall shew the Cynders of my spirits
Through th' Ashes of my chance.
* As You Like It,* II. vii. 57-61 :
Hee, that a Foole doth very wisely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart
Seeme senselesse of the bob. If not,
The Wise-mans folly is anathomiz'd
Even by the squandring glances of the foole.
in all of which cases the obscurity rises from
Shakespeare's constant habit of defying grammatical
expression and writing purely ad sensum. Nor in all
probability is there any necessity for altering in * Timon
of Athens,' II. ii. 181- 182:
I have retyrM me to a wastefull cocke,
And set mine eyes at flow.
where there is evidently, as is so often the case in
Shakespeare, the collision of two images — a
* wasteful cock ' meaning in one sense a lonely or
desolate attic, and in another the key setting a water-
conduit a-broach. To transform this into a * wake-
full couche' on the supposition that in the com-
positor's upper case the * st ' and * k ' are in contiguous
boxes, and could therefore easily have got mixed, is,
however ingenious, wholly unwarrantable. Shakespeare,
when writing in verse, seldom wrote flat prose.
Conjectural emendations should never be resorted to
unless they are fully justified, and they are never justified
except in cases where the original makes no sense,
xli
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
and is plainly corrupt ; otherwise they are nothing less
than sacrilegious impertinences. Their sole justifica-
tion is their necessity. No language can be strong
enough to denounce such attempts to rewrite Shake-
speare as we find in Payne Collier's pseudo-antique
corrector, or in such works as Sidney Walker's
* Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare,'
and Staunton's * Unsuspected Corruptions in the Text
of Shakespeare.' In atrocities like these scarcely a
word is allowed to stand unchallenged : the question
is not what Shakespeare wrote, but what in the opinion
of these critics he ought to have written, or might have
written. And thus the authentic text of our great
national poet has come to resemble the walls of the
room in which he is said to have been born : every
vain criticaster aspires to scribble some memento of
himself upon it.
No doubt Shakespeare has hundreds and thousands
of readers who simply want to read him with ease and
comfort, and to whom a text presenting no impedi-
ments at all, either in spelling or punctuation, or in
structure and phraseology, is an attraction. For their
needs the ordinary Victorian texts, of which the Globe
edition is the prototype, will suffice.
But there must be a large and constantly increasing
class, even among general readers, who, if the means
of studying the poet critically were conveniently within
their reach, would gladly avail themselves of them.
To these readers the present edition is dedicated, and
for them it is designed. At a very moderate price,
and in a type as clear and legible as type can be, they
are here presented with what can only be obtained
elsewhere at a very high price, or, if at a lower, in a
form excruciating to the eyes — the only authentic
xlii
GENERAL INTRODUCTION
text of Shakespeare, the text on which every critical
study of him must be based. With this in their hands
they will be able to follow the fortunes of that text
in every generation, to judge for themselves where
deviations from it are justifiable and where they are
not. They will no longer be at the mercy of cranks
and fribbles, but will see at a glance the liberties which
have been taken, both with his phraseology and with
his rhythm. And they will, I think, come to under-
stand that the principle of tenacious conservatism, even
in minutiae, to the original text, relaxed only in cases
of absolute necessity, is founded on something deeper
and wiser than the superstitions of mere pedantry.
J. Churton Collins.
Oxford,
October, 1906.
xliii
itii;
i
CONTENTS
Volume I.
The Tempest — Two Gentlemen of Verona — Merry
Wives of Windsor.
Volume II.
Measure, for Measure — The Comedie of Errors — Much
Adoe About Nothing,
Volume III.
Loves Labour's Lost — A Midsommer Nights Dreame —
The Merchant of Venice.
Volume IV.
As You Like It— The Taming of the Shrew— All's
Well, that Ends Well.
Volume V.
Twelfe Night, or What Tou Will— The Winters Tale
— The Life and Death of King John.
Volume VI.
The Life and Death of King Richard the Second — The
First Part of Henry the Fourth — The Second Part
of Henry the Fourth.
Volume VII.
The Life of Henry the Fift— The First Part of Henry
the Sixt— The Second Part of Henry the Sixt.
Volume VIII.
The Third Part of Henry the Sixt— The Tragedy of
Richard the Third — The Famous History of the
Life of King Henry the Eight.
Volume IX.
The Tragedie of Troylus and Cressida — The Tragedy
of Coriolanus — The Lamentable Tragedy of Titus
Andronicus.
CONTENTS
Volume X,
The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet — The Life of Tymon
of Athens — The Tragedie of Julius Cxsar.
Volume XI.
The Tragedie of Macbeth — The Tragedie of Hamlet,
Prince of Denmarke — The Tragedie of King Lear.
Volume XII.
The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice — The
Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra — TheTragedie
of Cymbeline.
Volume XIII.
The Play of Pericles, Prince of Tyre — Venus and Adonis
— ^The Rape of Lucrece — Sonnets — Poems.
idH
EXPLANATORT
Text
First Folio, 1623.
Line Numbering
At top of page, Globe Edition, every poetical line of which
is numbered ; at side of page, First Folio, every ti/po-
graphical line of which is numbered. Lines put between
brackets in text are not numbered, because they are not
in First Folio.
Brackets
Indicate stage directions, etc., in Globe, or parts of text
in Globe but not in First Folio, these parts being given
here as they appear in the earliest or the earliest com-
plete Quarto.
Italic Words
In margins, thus, ^ blunt, refer to and explain obscure
words.
Foot-notes
Cite in italics First Folio words emended ; in bold-face,
emendations adopted in Globe ; in small capitals, earliest
editions or first editor printing that emendation.
Abbreviations
iQ. equals First Quarto, 2Q. Second Quarto, and so on ;
I, 3-5Q. equals First, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Quartos,
all substantially agreeing ; Qq. equals all early Quartos.
2F. equals Second Folio, 3F. Third Folio, and so on ;
2-4F. equals Second, Third, and Fourth Folios, all sub-
stantially agreeing.
1. equals line, 11. equals lines.
THE TEMPEST
First printed in First Folio, 1623
Tempest A
INTRODUCTION
Argument of the Play
"yHE TEMPEST' is a well-rounded and mature
I drama of incident, hinged upon supernatural
deeds.
A violent tempest drives a vessel from its course
and wrecks it upon the coast of an enchanted island,
whereon dwell Prospero, his daughter Miranda, and
their deformed slave Caliban. While the storm is in
progress, Prospero tells his daughter his past history,
stating that he had once been Duke of Milan, but
was driven from his dukedom by his brother Antonio.
This had happened when Miranda was three years of
age. He had succeeded in escaping to this island,
where for twelve years he had devoted himself to her
education and to the study of magic. He ends his
recital by informing Miranda that the tempest has
been raised by magic, and that it has brought, in the
vessel which they have seen wrecked, all his enemies
into his power.
The refugees escape safely to land, where Ferdi-
nand, the King of Naples' son, is lost from the rest,
and is led by Prospero to his cell. The prince and
Miranda fall in love with each other.
The second act relates the wanderings of various
members of the shipwrecked band, who are watched
by Ariel, chief of spirits in Prospero' s employ.
Tempest C
THE TEMPEST
Act III continues the narrative of their tribulations,
and of how they are tantalized by the vision of a
spectral feast set by Ariel.
Meanwhile Prospero has discovered the loves of the
two young people, and is testing the prince's fidelity
by setting him to do hard labour.
In Act IV Ferdinand proves his worth and is re-
leased from servitude by Prospero, who bestows his
daughter's hand upon him, and entertains the lovers
with magic spectacles. At this juncture a trio of con-
spirators who have plotted to murder Prospero meet
with punishment at Ariel's hands.
The shipwrecked company are finally brought, in
Act V, before Prospero, who is moved to compassion
because of their sufl^erings. He reveals his identity to
them and grants forgiveness, which they ask, for an-
cient wrongs. The prince's father also approves the
union of Ferdinand and Miranda. Prospero renounces
the magic art, and the entire company proceed home
by means of the magically preserved ship, where Pros-
pero's dukedom is restored to kim.
Sources
Shakespeare is thought to have founded * The Tem-
pest ' upon some older story or chronicle, though this
has not yet been discovered. Collins, the poet, once
alluded to a novel, * Aurelio and Isabella,' written in
one of the Romance languages, which seemed to tally
with * The Tempest ' ; but this novel was lost if
ever written.
The plot is clearly connected with stories and facts
of adventure then rife. In 1609 Sir George Som-
mers's ship, the * Sea Venture,' was wrecked in the
Bermudas, and the discovery of these islands roused
Tempest D
INTRODUCTION
wide comment. One of the published accounts of
this, by Silvester Jourdain, was entitled * A Discov-
ery of the Barmudas, otherwise called the He of
Divels: by Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George Sommers,
and Captayne Newport, with diuers others. London,
1610.' This pamphlet speaks of the general belief
that the Bermudas * were never inhabited by any
Christian or Heathen people,' but were 'reputed a
most prodigious and enchanted place'; stating, never-
theless, that those who were wrecked there lived com-
fortably and found the country fruitful and pleasant.
That Shakespeare had this discovery in mind when
he wrote his play is evinced by numerous parallels.
But Prospero's command to Ariel * to fetch dew from
the still vex'd Bermoothes ' (Act I, Scene ii) would
indicate that the poet did not wish to lay the scene of
action in that spot. The story alone is to be con-
nected with the Bermudas, while the scene is laid in
' an un-inhabited Island,' called Fairyland.
From Eden's * History of Travayle ' (1577),
Shakespeare may have obtained some names, such as
Ferdinand, Alonso, Sebastian, Gonzales, Setebos, and
a few details.
Gonzalo's speech describing his commonwealth
(Act II, Scene i) bears strong resemblance to a pas-
sage written * Of the Caniballes,' in Florio's transla-
tion of Montaigne's * Essays.'
The name of Caliban is a variant on the old spelling
of * canibal,' which, in turn, is another form of * Cari-
bal,' or inhabitant of the Caribbean Sea. And Cali-
ban's brutish nature bears out the likeness in names.
Ariel is * an ayrie Spirit,' as Shakespeare puts it. His
name also occurs in rabbinical literature, among the
names of angels.
Tempest E
THE TEMPEST
The opening lines of Prospero's invocation in
Act V may have been suggested by similar Unes in
Book XV of Golding's < Ovid.'
A play by Jacob Ayrer of Nuremberg, called
*The Fair Sidea/ published in 1618, shows a strong
similarity to Shakespeare's play, and has been sup-
posed by some to be a German version of the same
original which Shakespeare followed. But it seems
more probable that Ayrer derived his play from
witnessing a performance of English strolling players,
or by translating * The Tempest ' itself.
Duration of the Action
' The Tempest ' is one of the few^ plays which ad-
here stricdy to the old rules governing « Unity of
Time.' The entire action is included within three or
four hours, running between two and six in the after-
noon of one day. This is brought out clearly in several
places. In Prospero's first interview with Ariel, the
sprite informs his master that it is * past the mid-sea-
son.' And Prospero rejoins: * At least two glasses.
The time 'twixt six and now must by us both be
spent most preciously.' In Act V the time is verified
in four places, finally where the boatswain finds the
vessel safe, ' which, but three glasses since, we gave
out split.' It has been claimed that the sailor's glass
was only a half-hour glass, but the playwright cer-
tainly follows landsman's reckoning.
The period when it was supposed to have taken
place was the present of Shakespeare's day.
Date of Composition
' The Tempest ' falls readily into a class with the
maturer plays. It was produced between the years
Tempest F
INTRODUCTION
1603 and 161 1, the earlier limit being established by
the reference to Montaigne alluded to above. Florio's
translation of the * Essays' did not appear until 1603.
The later limit of 1 6 1 1 is determined by the * Court
Revels ' of James I's reign, which contains the follow-
ing entry under the years 1611-12: * By the King's
Players. Hallomas nyght was presented att Whithall
before ye King's Ma''^ a play called the Tempest.'
Ben Jonson very probably alludes to the play in his
'Bartholomew Fair' (1612-14): * If there be never
a Servant-monster i' the Fayre, who can help it, he
sayes; nor a nest of Antiques? Hee is loth to make
nature afraid in his Playes, like those that beget Tales,
Tempests, and such like Drolleries.'
In 161 3 the play appears among the list of those
acted at court.
The internal evidence fixes the date even closer than
does the external. We have previously seen that the
plot is intimately allied to the expedition to the Ber-
mudas made in the summer of 1 609, and told about in
pamphlet form in 1610.
The play was written, in all probability, in 161 1.
Early Editions
In the authoritative First Folio edition of 1623,
* The Tempest ' occupies the first nineteen pages,
this being the earliest known printing of the play. Its
position at the head of the plays was arbitrary with the
editors, though the placing may bear evidence of its
popularity at that time. The text has come to us in
a purer state than others, perhaps because it was the
first one the printers set up, and they were more care-
ful with it. On account of this, and the fact that
there were no earlier Quarto versions to question its
Tempest G
THE TEMPEST
authority, * The Tempest * has been comparatively
free from editorial revisions in succeeding editions.
The play is the shortest of all, except * The Com-
edie of Errors,* but was lengthened in presentation by
the Masque and other stage pageantry introduced.
The Epilogue is supposed to be by another writer.
Tempest H
THE TEMPEST
[DRAMATIS PERSONS
Alonso, King of Naples.
Sebastian, his brother.
Prospero, the right Duke of Milan.
Antonio, his br other y the usurping Duke of Milan.
Ferdinand, son to the King of Naples.
GoNZALo, an honest old Counsellor.
Adrian, ) , ,
r- V Lords.
FRANCISCO, j
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, ^ presented by Spirits.
Nymphs,
Reapers,
Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
Scene; A ship at sea: an is land. "^
THE TEMPEST
Actus primus, Scena prima,
[On a ship at sea.']
A tempestuous noise of Thunder and Lightning heard: En-
ter a Ship-master t and a Boteswaine.
Master.
BOTE-SWAINE.
Botes. Heere Master: What cheere?
Mast. Good; Speake to th' Mariners: fall | too't,
yarely,! or we run our selves a ground, | bestirre,
bestirre. ^ lively Exit.
Enter Mariners. lo
Botes. Heigh my hearts, cheerely, cheerely my harts:
yare, yare:^ Take in the toppe-sale: Tend to th' Masters
whistle: Blow till thou burst thy winde, if roome e-
nough. 2 quick
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinando,
Gonzaloy and others.
Alon. Good Boteswaine have care: where' s the Ma-
ster? Play the men.
15. Anthonio: Antonio-RowE; all through-CAPKLL.
15. Ferdinando: Ferdinand-RowE.
I. i. 12-42] THE TEMPEST
Botes. I pray now keepe below.
Anth. Where is the Master, Boson? 20
Botes. Do you not heare him? you marre our labour,
Keepe your Cabines: you do assist the storme.
Gonz. Nay, good be patient.
Botes. When the Sea is: hence, what cares these roa-
rers for the name of King? to Cabine; silence: trouble
us not. 26
Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboord.
Botes. None that I more love then my selfe. You are
a Counsellor, if you can command these Elements to si-
lence, and worke the peace of the present, wee will not
hand a rope more, use your authoritie: If you cannot,
give thankes you have liv'd so long, and make your
selfe readie in your Cabine* for the mischance of the
houre, if it so hap. Cheerely good hearts: out of our
way I say. Exit.
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks
he hath no drowning marke upon him, his complexion
is perfect Gallowes: stand fast good Fate to his han-
ging, make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our
owne doth little advantage: If he be not borne to bee
hang'd, our case is miserable. Exit. 41
Enter Boteswaine.
Botes. Downe with the top- Mast: yare, lower, lower,
bring her to Try with Maine-course. A plague
A cry within. Enter Sebastiany Anthonio ^ Gonzalo.
upon this howling: they are lowder then the weather,
or our office: yet againe? What do you heerer' Shal we
give ore and drowne, have you a minde to sinke ?
THE TEMPEST [I. i. 43.70
Sebas. A poxe o'your throat, you bawling, blasphe-
mous incharitable Dog. 50
Botes. Worke you then.
j4ntb. Hang cur, hang, you whoreson insolent Noyse-
maker, we are lesse afraid to be drownde, then thou art.
Gonz. I'le warrant him for drowning, though the
Ship wer« no stronger then a Nutt-shell, and as leaky as
an unstanched wench.
Botes. Lay her a hold, a hold, set her two courses off
to Sea againe, lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.
Mart. All lost, to prayers, to prayers, all lost. 60
Botes. What must our mouths be cold?
Gonz. The King,and Prince, at prayers,let* s assist them,
for our case is as theirs.
Sebas. Pam out of patience.
Jn. We are meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chopt-rascall, would thou mightst lye drow-
ning the washing of ten Tides.
Gonz. Hee'l be hang'd yet.
Though every drop of water sweare against it.
And gape at widst to glut him. y4 confused noyse within.
Mercy on us. 7 1
We split, we split, FareweK my wife, and children.
Farewell brother: we split, we split, we split.
Anth. Let's all sinke with' King
Seb. Let's take leave of him. Exit.
Gonz. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of Sea,
for an Acre of barren ground; Long heath, Browne
62-3. new 1. at For-PoPE. 66-7. new 1. at The-PoP».
71-3. as stage cries indicating confused noyse w/M/»-Capell.
74.. luitb'' King: with the king-RowE.
I. i. 70-ii. 22] THE TEMPEST
firrs, any thing; the wills above be done, but I would
faine dye a dry death. Exit,
Scena Secunda.
[The island.']
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Mira. If by your Art (my deerest father^ you have
Put the wild waters in this Rore; alay them:
The skye it seemes would powre down stinking pitch.
But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkins cheeke.
Dashes the fire out. Oh! I have suffered
With those that I saw suffer: A brave vessell
(Who had no doubt some noble creature in her)
Dash'd all to peeces: O the cry did knocke 10
Against my very heart: poore soules, they perish' d.
Had I byn any God of power, I would
Have suncke the Sea within the Earth, or ere
It should the good Ship so have swallow' d, and
The fraughtingi Soules within her. ^lading
Pros. Be collected,
No more amazement: Tell your pitteous heart
there's no harme done.
Mira. O woe, the day.
Pros. No harme: 20
I have done nothing, but in car® of thee
(Of thee my deere one; thee my daughter) who
Art ignorant of what thou art. naught knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Then Prospero y Master of a full poore cell.
And thy no greater Father.
Mira. More to know
Did never medle with my thoughts.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 22-49
Pros. 'Tis time
I should informe thee farther: Lend thy hand 30
And plucke my Magick garment from me: So,
[^Lays down his mantle. Ij^
Lye there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort.
The direfiill spectacle of the wracke which touch' d
The very vertue of compassion in thee:
I have with such provision 1 in mine Art ^foresight
So safely ordered, that there is no soule
No not so much perdition as an hayre
Betid to any creature in the vessell
Which thou heardst cry, which thou saw*st sinke: Sit
downe, |
For thou must now know farther. 40
Mir a. You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt
And left me to a bootelesse Inquisition,
Concluding, stay; not yet.
Pros. The howr*s now come
The very minute byds thee ope thine eare.
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this Cell?
I doe not thinke thou canst, for then thou was't not
Out three yeeres old. 50
Mlra. Certainely 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 a. 'Tis farre off-
And rather like a dreame, then an assurance
That my remembrance warrants; Had I not
Fowre, or five women once, that tended me.?
Pros. Thou hadst; and more Miranda: But how is it
That this lives in thy minde? What seest thou els 60
I. ii. 50-76] THE TEMPEST
In the dark-backward and Abisme of Time?
Yf thou remembrest ought ere thou cam'st here.
How thou cam'st here thou maist.
Mira. But that I doe not.
Pros. Twelve yevG since (^MiranJa) twelve yere since.
Thy father was the Duke of Millaine and
A Prince of power;
Mira. Sir, are not you my Father?
Pros. Thy Mother was a peece of vertue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father 70
Was Duke of Millaine y and his onely heire.
And Princesse; no worse Issued.
Mira. O the heavens.
What fowle play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?
Pros. Both, both my Girle.
By fowle-play (as thou saist) were we heav'd thence.
But blessedly holpe hither.
Mira. O my heart bleed es 79
To thinke oth' teene^ that I have turnM you to, '^ grief
Which is from my remembrance, please you, farther;
Pros. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Anthonio:
I pray thee marke me, that a brother should
Be so perfidious: he, whom next thy selfe
Of all the world I lovM, and to him put
The mannage of my state, as at that time
Through all the signories it was the first.
And Prospero, the prime Duke, being so reputed
In dignity; and for the liberall Artes,
Without a paralell; those being all my studie, 90
The Government I cast upon my brother.
And to my State grew stranger, being transported
71. and bis: and thou his-HANMER.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 77-106
And rapt in secret studies, thy false uncle
(Do' St thou attend me?)
Mir a. Sir, most heedefiilly.
Pros. Being once perfected how to graunt suites,
how to deny them: who t' advance, and who
To trash 1 for over-topping; new created 1 lop off
The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em.
Or els new form'd 'em; having both the key, 100
Of Officer, and office, set all hearts i'th state
To what tune pleas' d his eare, that now he was
The Ivy which had hid my princely Trunck,
And suckt my verdure out on't: Thou attend' st not?
Mira. O good Sir, I doe.
Pros. I pray thee marke me:
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closenes, and the bettering of my mind
with that, which but by being so retir'd
Ore-priz'd all popular rate: in my false brother 1 10
Awak'd an evill nature, and my trust
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in it's contrarie, as great
As my trust was, which had indeede no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus Lorded,
Not onely with what my revenew yeelded.
But what my power might els exact. Like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it.
Made such a synner of his memorie
To credite his owne lie, he did beleeve 1 20
He was indeed the Duke, out o'th' Substitution
And executing th' outward face of Roialtie
With all prerogative: hence his Ambition growing:
Do'stthou heare?
117. exact. Like: exact, like-RowK.
i. 5 9
I. ii. 106-133] THE TEMPEST
Mira. Your tale. Sir, would cure deafenesse.
Pros. To have no Schreene between this part he plaid.
And him he plaid it for, he needes will be
Absolute Millaine, Me (poore man) my Librarie
Was Dukedome large enough: of temporall roalties
He thinks me now incapable. Confederates 130
(so driei he was for Sway) with King of Naples '^thirst
To give him Annuall tribute, doe him homage
Subject his Coronet, to his Crowne and bend
The Dukedom yet unbow'd (alas poore Millaine')
To most ignoble stooping.
Mira. Oh the heavens:
Pros. Marke his condition, and th' event, then tell me
If this might be a brother.
Mira. I should sinne
To thinke but Noblie of my Grand-mother, 140
Good wombes have borne bad sonnes.
Pro. Now the Condition.
This King of "Naples being an Enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my Brothers suit.
Which was. That he in lieu o*th' premises.
Of homage, and I know not how much Tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the Dukedome, and confer faire Millaine
With all the Honors, on my brother: Whereon
A treacherous Armie levied, one mid-night 150
Fated to th' purpose, did Anthonio open
The gates of Millaine y and ith* dead o'i darkenesse
The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying selfe.
Mir. Alack, for pitty:
I not remembring how I cride out then
129. roalties: royalties-3-4F.
131. luUh King: wi'the King-CAPELL.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 134-160
Will cry it ore againe: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes too't.
Pro. Heare a little further.
And then I'le bring thee to the present businesse 160
Which now's upon's: without the which, this Story
Were most impertinent.
Mir. Wherefore did they not
That howre destroy us?
Pro. Well demanded, wench:
My Tale provokes that question: Deare, they durst not.
So deare the love my people bore me: nor set
A marke so bloudy on the businesse; but
With colours fairer, painted their foule ends.
In few, they hurried us a-boord a Barke, 170
Bore us some Leagues to Sea, where they prepared
A rotten carkasse of a Butt, not rigg*d.
Nor tackle, sayle, nor mast, the very rats
Instinctively have quit it: There they hoyst us
To cry to th' Sea, that roard to us; to sigh
To th' windes, whose piii;- ol5hing backe againe
Did us but loving wrong.
Mir. Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you?
Pro. O, a Cherubin 1 80
Thou was't 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 rais'd in me
An undergoing stomacke, to beare up
Against what should ensue.
Mir. How came we a shore?
Pro. By providence divine.
Some food, we had, and some fresh water, that
172. Butt: boat-RowE.
I. ii. 161-189] THE TEMPEST
A noble Neopolitan Gonzalo 190
Out of his Charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this designe) did give us, with
Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and necessaries
Which since have steeded much, so of his gentlenesse
Knowing I lov'd my bookes, he furnishd me
From mine owne Library, with volumes, that
I prize above my Dukedome.
Mir. Would I might
But ever see that man.
Pro. Now I arise, [Resumes his mantle. '\ 200
Sit still, and heare the last of our sea-sorrow:
Heere in this Hand we arriv'd, and heere
Have I, thy Schoolemaster, made thee more profit
Then other Princesse can, that have more time
For vainer howres; and Tutors, not so carefull.
Mir. Hevens thank you for' t. And now I pray you Sh",
For still *tis beating in my minde; your reason
For raysing this Sea-storme?
Pro. Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountifull Fortune 210
(Now my deere Lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: And by my prescience
I finde my Zenith doth depend upon
A most auspitious starre, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit; my fortunes
Will ever after droope: Heare cease more questions.
Thou art inclinde to sleepe: 'tis a good dulnesse.
And give it way: I know thou canst not chuse:
\Miranda sleeps. '\
Come away. Servant, come; I am ready now.
Approach my Ariel. Come. Enter Ariel. 220
Ari. All haile, great Master, grave Sir, haile: I come
204. Princetse: princesses-CAMBRiDGE.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 190-216
To answer thy best pleasure; be*t to fly.
To swim, to dive into the fire: to ride
On the curld clowds: to thy strong bidding, taske
Ariely and all his Qualitie.
Pro. Hast thou. Spirit,
Performd to point, the Tempest that I bad thee.
Ar. To every Article.
I boorded the Kings ship; now on the Beake,
Now in the Waste, 1 the Decke, in every Cabyn, 230
I flam'd amazement, sometime Pld divide '^midship
And burne in many places; on the Top-mast,
The Yards and Bore-spritt, would I flame distinctly.
Then meete, andjoyne. Joves Lightning, the precursers
O'th dreadfull Thunder-claps more momentarie
And sight out-running were not; the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty "Neptune
Seeme to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble.
Yea, his dread Trident shake.
Pro. My brave Spirit, 240
Who was so firme, so constant, that this coyle^
Would not infect his reason? 2 turmoil
Ar. Not a soule
But felt a Feaver of the madde, and plaid
Some tricks of desperation; all but Mariners
Flung' d in the foaming bryne, and quit the vessell;
Then all a fire with me the Kings sonne Ferdinand
With haire up-staring (then like reeds, not haire)
Was the first man that leapt; cride hell is empty.
And all the Divels are heere. 250
Pro. Why that's my spirit:
But was not this nye shore?
233, Bore-spritt: bowsprit-PoPE.
246-7. vesselli Then all .. me the: vessel, Then all .. me: the-
RowE.
"3
I. ii. 216-244] THE TEMPEST
Ar. Close by, my Master.
Pro, But are they (^ArieW) safe?
Ar. Not a haire perishd:
On their sustaining garments not a blemish.
But fresher then before: and as thou badst me.
In troops I have dispersd them 'bout the Isle:
The Kings sonne have I landed by himselfe.
Whom I left cooHng of the Ayre with sighes, 260
In an odde Angle of the Isle, and sitting
His armes in this sad knot.
Pro. Of the Kings ship.
The Marriners, say hov;^ thou hast disposd.
And all the rest o'th'Fleete?
Ar. Safely in harbour
Is the Kings shippe, in the deepe Nooke, where once
Thou calldst me up at midnight to fetch dewe
From the still-vext Bermoothesy there she's hid;
The Marriners all under hatches stowed, 270
Who, with a Charm e joynd to their sufFred labour
I have left asleep: and for the rest o'th' Fleet
(Which I dispers'd) they all have met againe.
And are upon the Mediterranian Flote 1 '^ flood
Bound sadly home for Naples^
Supposing that they saw the Kings ship wrackt.
And his great person perish.
Pro. Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is performed; but there's more worke:
What is the time o'th' day? 280
Ar. Past the mid season.
Pro. At least two Glasses: the time 'twixt six & now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ar. Is there more toyle? Since thou dost give me pains.
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd.
Which is not yet perform' d me.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 245.2^9
Pro. How now? moodie?
What is't thou canst demand?
Ar. My Libertie.
Pro. Before the time be out? no more: 290
Ar. I prethee.
Remember I have done thee worthy service.
Told thee no lyes, made thee no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings; thou did promise
To batei me a full yeere. ^ abate
Pro. Do' St thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee? Ar. No.
Pro. Thou do' St; & thinkst it much to tread the Ooze
Of the salt deepe;
To run upon the sharpe winde of the North, 300
To doe me businesse in the veines o'th' earth
When it is bak'd with frost.
Ar. I doe not Sir.
Pro. Thou liest, malignant Thing: hast thou forgot
The fowle Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Envy
Was growne into a hoope? hast thou forgot her?
Ar. No Sir.
Pro. Thou hast: where was she born? speak: tell me:
Ar. Sir, in Argier.
Pro. Oh, was she so: I must 310
Once in a moneth recount what thou hast bin.
Which thou forgetst. This damn'd Witch Sycorax
For mischiefes manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter humane hearing, from Argier
Thou know'st was banish' d: for one thing she did
They wold not take her life: Is not this true? Ar. I, Sir.
Pro. This blew ey'd hag, was hither brought with
child. I
297. new 1. at y^r.-PoPE.
316. new 1. at ^r.-RowE.
15
I. ii. 270-298] THE TEMPEST
And here was left by th'Saylors; thou my slave.
As thou reportst thy selfe, was then her servant.
And for thou wast a Spirit too delicate 320
To act her earthy, and abhord commands.
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee
By helpe of her more potent Ministers,
And in her most unmittigable rage.
Into a cloven Pyne, within which rift
Imprisoned, thou didst painefully remaine
A dozen yeeres: within which space she di'd.
And left thee there: where thou didst vent thy groanes
As fast as Mill-wheeles strike: Then was this Island
(Save for the Son, that he did littour heere, 330
A frekelld whelpe, hag-borne) not honour' d with
A humane shape.
Ar. Yes: Caliban her sonne.
Pro. Dull thing, I say so: he, that Caliban
Whom now I keepe in service, thou best know*st
What torment I did finde thee in; thy grones
Did make wolves howle, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry Beares; it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not againe undoe: it was mine Art, 340
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape
The Pyne, and let thee out.
Jr. I thanke thee Master.
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an Oake
And peg-thee in his knotty entrailes, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
Ar. Pardon, Master,
I will be correspondent to command
And doe my spry ting, gently.
319. ivas: wast-RowE. 330. he: she-RowE.
340. spryting: spiriting-RowE.
16
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 298-321
Pro. Doe so: and after two daies 350
I will discharge thee.
Ar. That's my noble Master:
What shall I doe? say what? what shall I doe?
Pro. Goe make thy selfe like a Nymph o'th'Sea,
Be subject to no sight but thine, and mine: invisible
To every eye-ball else: goe take this sliape
And hither come in't: goe: hence
With diligence. Exit.
Pro. Awake, deere hart awake, thou hast slept well.
Awake. 360
Mir. The strangenes of your story, put
Heavinesse in me.
Pro. Shake it off: Come on.
Wee' 11 visit Caliban y my slave, who never
Yeelds us kinde answere.
Mir. 'Tis a villaine Sir, I doe not love to looke on.
Pro. But as 'tis
We cannot misse him: he do's make our fire.
Fetch in our wood, and serves in Offices
That profit us: What hoa: slave: Caliban: 370
Thou Earth, thou: speake.
Cal. within. There's wood enough within.
Pro. Come forth I say, there's other busines for thee:
Come thou Tortoys, when? Enter Ariel like a water
Fine apparision: my queint Ariel, Nymph.
Hearke in thine eare.
Ar. My Lord, it shall be done. Exit.
Pro. Thou poysonous slave, got by the divell himselfe
Upon thy wicked Dam; come forth. Enter Caliban.
Cal. As wicked dewe, as ere my mother brush' d 3 80
354-5. 2 11. ending subject, invisible-MALONE.
357-8. I 1. ending diligence-PoPE.
365-7. 2 11. ending Sir, 'tis-PopK.
«7
I. ii. 322-351] THE TEMPEST
With Ravens feather from unwholesome Fen
Drop on you both: A Southwest blow on yee.
And blister you all ore.
Pro. For this be sure, to night thou shalt have cramps.
Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins 1
Shall for that vast of night, that they may worke ^ imps
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch' d
As thicke as hony -combe, each pinch more stinging
Then Bees that made 'em.
Cal. I must eat my dinner: 390
This Island's mine by Sycorax my mother.
Which thou tak'st from me; when thou cam'st first
Thou stroakst me, & made much of me; wouldst give me
Water with berries in't: and teach me how
To name the bigger Light, and how the lesse
That burne by day, and night: and then I lov'd thee
And shew'd thee all the qualities o'th'Isle,
The fresh Springs, Brine-pits; barren place and fertill.
Curs' d be I that did so: All the Charmes
Of Sycorax: Toades, Beetles, Batts light on you: 400
For I am all the Subjects that you have.
Which first was min owne King: and here you sty-me
In this hard Rocke, whiles you doe keepe from me
The rest o'th' Island.
Pro. Thou most lying slave.
Whom stripes may move, not kindnes: I have us'd thee
(Filth as thou art) with humane care, and lodg'd thee
In mine owne Cell, till thou didst seeke to violate
The honor of my childe.
Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, would't had bene done: 410
Thou didst prevent me, I had peopel'd else
This Isle with Calibans.
Mir a. \Pros.'\ Abhorred Slave,
393. made: madest-RowE.
413. Mira.^s speech given to Pros -TnEOBALf
18
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 352-379
Which any print of goodnesse wilt not take.
Being capable of all ill: I pittied thee.
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each houre
One thing or other: when thou didst not (Savage)
Know thine owne meaning; but wouldst gabble, like
A thing most brutish, I endow' d thy purposes 419
With words that made them knowne: But thy vild race^
(^Tho thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou l stock
Deservedly confin'd into this Rocke, who hadst
Deserv'd more then 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 Fewell, and be quicke thou*rt best
To answer other businesse: shrug' st thou (Malice)430
If thou neglectst, or dost unwillingly
What I command. He racke thee with old Crampes,
Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee rore.
That beasts shall tremble at thy dyn.
Cal. No, 'pray fhee.
[^Aside] I must obey, his Art is of such pow*r.
It would controll my Dams god Setebos,
And make a vassaile of him.
Pro. So slave, hence. Exit Cal. 439
Enter Ferdinand^ Ariely invisible playing^ singing,
y^r/V/Song. Come unto these yellow sands ^
and then take hands'.
Curtsied when you have, and kist
the wilde waves whist:
441. Ariel Song: Ariel's song-3-4F.
19
I. u. 380-406] THE TEMPEST
Foote it feat ly heere, and there y and sweet e Sprights beare
the burthen. Burthen dispersedly.
Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch- Dogges bar he,
bowgh-wawgh.
Ar. Harky hark, I heare, the straine of struttingChanti-
clere | cry cockadidle-dowe. 450
Fer. Where shold this Musick be? Tth aire, or th'
earth? |
It sounds no more: and sure it waytes upon
Some God 'oth'Iland, sitting on a banke.
Weeping againe the King my Fathers wracke.
This Musicke crept by me upon the waters.
Allaying both their fury, and my passion
With it's sweet ay re: thence I have follow' d it
(Or it hath drawne me rather) but 'tis gone.
No, it begins againe.
Ariell Song. Full f adorn five thy Father lies, 460
Of his bones are Corrall made:
Those are pearles that were his eies.
Nothing of him that doth fade.
But doth suffer a Sea-change
Into something rich, ^ strange:
Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell.
Burthen: ding dong.
Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell.
Fer. The Ditty do's remember my drown' d father.
This is no mortal! busines, nor no sound 470
445-6. beare the burthen: the burthen bear-PoPE.
445-6. 2 11. ending there and bear-CAPELL.
447-8. 4 11. ending hark! wow, bark, wow-Capell.
449. 2 rhymed 11. ending hear and chanticleer-CAPELL.
460. Song: sings-CAPELL.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 407-432
That the earth owes;! I heare it now above me.
Pro. The fringed Curtaines of thine eye advance.
And say what thou see'st yond. '^claims
Mir a. What is't a Spirit?
Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeve me sir.
It carries a brave forme. But 'tis a spirit.
Pro. No wench, it eats, and sleeps, & hath such senses
As we have: such. This Gallant which thou seest
Was in the wracke: and but hee's something stain' d^
With greefe (that's beauties canker) thou might'st call
him I '^disfigured 480
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellowes.
And stray es about to finde 'em.
Mir. I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing naturall
I ever saw so Noble.
Pro. \Aside^ It goes on I see
As my soule prompts it; Spirit, fine spirit. He fi-ee thee
Within two dayes for this.
Per. Most sure the Goddesse 489
On whom these ay res attend: Vouchsafe my pray'r
May know if you remaine upon this Island,
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may beare me heere: my prime request
(Which I do last pronounce) is (O you wonder)
If you be Mayd, or no?
Mir. No wonder Sir,
But certainly a Mayd.
Per. My Language? Heavens:
I am the best of them that speake this speech.
Were I but where 'tis spoken. 500
Pro. How? the best?
What wer't thou if the King of Naples heard thee?
Per. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
I. ii. 433-459] THE TEMPEST
To heare thee speake oi Naples: he do's heare me.
And that he do's, I weepe: my selfe am Naples y
Who, with mine eyes (never since at ebbe) beheld
The King my Father wrack' t.
Mir. Alacke, for mercy.
Fer. Yes faith, & all his Lords, the Duke of Millaine
And his brave sonne, being twaine. 510
Pro. [JsUe] The Duke oi Millaine
And his more braver daughter, could controlP thee
If now 'twere fit to do't: At the first sight ^confute
They have chang'd eyes: Delicate Ariel,
He set thee free for this. \To Fer."] A word good Sir,
I feare you have done your selfe some wrong: A word.
Mir. Why speakes my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that ere I saw : the first
That ere I sigh'd for: pitty move my father
To be enclin'd my way. 520
Fer. O, if a Virgin,
And your affection not gone forth. He make you
The Queene of Naples.
Pro. Soft sir, one word more. [^izV^]
They are both in eythers pow'rs: But this swift busines
I must uneasie make, least too light winning
Make the prize light. [^To Fer.'] One word more: I
charge thee |
That thou attend me: Thou do'st heere usurpe
The name thou ow'st not, and hast put thy selfe
Upon this Island, as a spy, to win it 530
From me, the Lord on't.
Fer. No, as I am a man.
Mir. Ther's nothing ill, can dwell in such a
Temple, |
If the ill-spirit have so fayre a house.
Good things will strive to dwell with't.
Pro. Follow me.
THE TEMPEST [I. ii. 460-484
Pros. Speake not you for him: hee's a Traitor: come.
He manacle thy necke and feete together:
Sea water shalt thou drinke: thy food shall be 539
The fresh-brooke Mussels, wither' d roots, and huskes
Wherem the Acorne cradled. Follow.
Fer. No,
I will resist such entertainment,! till ^ treatment
Mine enemy ha's more pow'r.
He drawesy and is charmed from moving.
Mira. O deere Father,
Make not too rash a triall of him, for
Hee*s gentle,2and not fearfull.3 "^ spirited ^harmful
Pros. What I say.
My foote my Tutor? Put thy sword up Traitor, 550
Whomak'st ashew, butdar'st not strike: thy conscience
Is so possest with guilt: Come, from thy ward.
For I can heere disarme thee with this sticke.
And make thy weapon drop.
Mira. Beseech you Father.
Pros. Hence: hang not on my garments.
Mira. Sir have pity.
He be his surety.
Pros. Silence: One word more 559
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What,
An advocate for an Impostor? Hush:
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
(Having seene but him and Caliban:) Foolish wench.
To th*most of men, this is a Caliban,
And they to him are Angels.
Mira. My affections
Are then most humble: I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pros. Come on, obey:
Thy Nerves are in their infancy againe. 570
537. Pros.: out-RowB.
I. ii. 485-II. i. 6] THE TEMPEST
And have no vigour in them.
Fer, So they are:
My spirits, as in a dreame, are all bound up:
My Fathers Josse, the weaknesse which I feele.
The wracke of all my friends, nor this mans threats.
To whom I am subdude, are but light to me.
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this Mayd: all corners else o'th' Earth
Let liberty make use of: space enough
Have I in such a prison. 580
Pros. \Aside\ It workes: \To Fer,'\ Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Arielh [To Fer.] follow me,
[To Art.'] Harke what thou else shalt do mee.
Mira. Be of comfort.
My Fathers of a better nature (Sir)
Then he appeares by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Pros. Thou shalt be as free
As mountaine windes; but then exactly do
All points of my command. 590
Arte II. To th' syllable.
Pros. Come follow: speake not for him. Exeunt.
Actus Secundus. Sccena Prima.
[Another part of the is Ian d."]^
Enter A Ion so y Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzaioy Adrian,
Francisco, and others.
Gonz. Beseech you Sir, be merry; you have cause,
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe
Is common, every day, some Saylors wife.
The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant
Have just our Theame of woe: But for the miracle,
H
THE TEMPEST [II. i. 7-36
(I meane our preservation) few in millions 10
Can speake like us: then wisely (good Sir) weigh
Our sorrow, with our comfort.
Alons. Prethee peace.
Seb, He receives comfort like cold porredge.
Ant. The Visitor will not give him ore so.
Seb. Looke, hee's winding up the watch of his wit.
By and by it will strike.
Gon. Sir.
Seb. One: Tell.i ^ count
Gon. When every greefe is entertaind, 20
That's offer' d comes to th' entertainer.
Seb. A dollor.
Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you have spoken
truer then you purposed.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier then I meant you
should.
Gon. Therefore my Lord.
Ant. Fie, what a spend-thrift is he of his tongue.
Alon. I pre-thee spare.
Gon. Well, I have done: But yet 30
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which, of he, or Adrian, for a good wager.
First begins to crow?
Seb. The old Cocke.
Ant. The Cockrell.
Seb. Done: The wager?
Ant. A Laughter.
Seb. A match.
Adr. Though this Island seeme to be desert.
Seb. Ha, ha, ha. 40
Ant. So: you'r paid.
16-17. prose-PoPE. 20-1. new 1. at Comes-CAPELL.
32-3. prose-PopE.
40-1. I l.j ^nt.'s speech given to &^.-Thxobai.d.
i. 6 a«
11. i. 37-71] THE TEMPEST
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.
Seb. Yet
Adr. Yet
Ant. He could not misse*t.
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
temperance. 1 ^climate
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
Seb. I, and a subtle, as he most learnedly deliver' d.
Adr. The ayre breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones. 5 i
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfiim'd by a Fen.
Gon. Heere is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, save meanes to live.
Seb, Of that there's none, or little.
Gon. How lush and lusty the grasse lookes?
How green e?
Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of greene in't.
Ant. He misses not much. 60
Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally.
Gon. But the rariety of it is, which is indeed almost
beyond credit.
Seb. As many voucht rarieties are.
Gon. That our Garments being (as they were) drencht
in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their freshnesse and
glosses, being rather new dy'de then stain' d with sake
water.
Ant, If but one of his pockets could speake, would
it not say he lyes? 70
Seb. I, or very falsely pocket up his report.
Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as
when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage
of the kings faire daughter Claribel io the king q{ Tunis.
56-7. I I.-POPE.
ft6
THE TEMPEST [II. i. 72-105
Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
our returne.
Adri. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a Pa-
ragon to their Queene.
Gon. Not since widdow Dido' s time.
Ant. Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Wid-
dow in? Widdow Dido! 8 1
Seb, What if he had said Widdower JEneas too?
Good Lord, how you take it?
Adri. Widdow Dido said you? You make me study
of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.
Adri. Carthage? Gon. I assure you Carthage.
Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.
Seb. He hath raisM the wall, and houses too. 89
Ant. What impossible matter wil he make easy next?
Seb. I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his
pocket, and give it his sonne for an Apple.
Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring
forth more Islands.
Gon. I. Ant. Why in good time.
Gon. Sir, we were* talking, that our garments seeme
now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
of your daughter, who is now Queene.
Ant. And the rarest that ere came there.
Seb. Bate, (I beseech you) widdow Dido. 100
Ant. O Widdow Dido} I, Widdow Dido.
Gon. Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day 1
wore it.^ I meane in a sort.
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage.
87. new 1. at Go«,-Rowe.
88. Ant.''s. speech given to &i. -Cambridge.
95. new 1. at ^«.-Rowe.
II. i. 106-135] THE TEMPEST
Alon, You cram these words into mine eares, against
the stomacke of my sense: would I had never
Married my daughter there: For comming thence
My Sonne is lost, and (in my ratei) she too.
Who is so farre from Italy removed, '^judgment no
I ne*re againe shall see her: O thou mine heire
Of Naples and of Millainef what strange fish
Hath made his meale on thee?
Fran, Sir he may live,
I saw him beate the surges under him.
And ride upon their backes; he trod the water
Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested
The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared
Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke 1 20
To th'shore; that ore his wave-worne basis bowed
As stooping to releeve him: I not doubt
He came alive to Land.
Alon. No, no, hee's gone.
Seb. Sir you may thank your selfe for this great losse.
That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter.
But rather loose her to an AfFrican,
Where she at least, is banish' d from your eye.
Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.
Alon. Pre-thee peace. 130
Seb. You were kneelM too, & importuned otherwise
By all of us: and the faire soule her selfe
Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at
Which end o'th'beame should bow: we have lost your
son, I
I feare for ever; Millaine and Naples have
Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making.
Then we bring men to comfort them:
The faults your owne.
28
I
THE TEMPEST [II. i. 136-163
Alon. So is the deer*st othMosse.
Gon. My Lord Sebasiiarjy 140
The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse.
And time to speake it in: you rub the sore.
When you should bring the plaister.
Seb. Very well. Afit. And most Chirurgeonly.
Gon. It is foule weather in us all, good Sir,
When you are cloudy.
Seb. Fowle weather? Jnt. Very foule.
Gon. Had I plantation^ of this Isle my Lord.
Ant. Hee'd sow' t with Nettle-seed, '^colonization
Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes. 150
Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do?
Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.
Gon. I' th' Commonwealth I would (by contraries)
Execute all things : For no kinde of Trafficke
Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:
Letters should not be knowne: Riches, poverty.
And use of service, none: Contract, Succession,
Borne, bound of Land, Tilth,^ Vineyard none:
No use of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:
No occupation, all men idle, all: ^tillage 160
And Women too, but innocent and pure:
No Soveraignty.
Seb. Yet he would be King on't.
Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets
the beginning. ^war-machine aplenty
Gon. All things in common Nature should produce
Without sweat or endevour: Treason, fellony.
Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine^
Would I not have: but Nature should bring forth
Of it owne kinde, all foyzon,* all abundance 170
144. new 1. at yf«r.-Row». 147. new 1. at ^«r.-RowE.
II. i. 164-191] THE TEMPEST
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 governe Sir:
T'Excell the Golden Age.
Seb, *Save his Majesty. Ant. Long live Gonzalo.
Gon. And do you marke me. Sir?
Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to
me. I
Gon. I do well beleeve your Highnesse, and did it
to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of
such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes use
to laugh at nothing. 182
Ant. 'Twas you we laughM at.
Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
Ant. What a blow was there given?
Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.
Gon. You are Gentlemen of brave mettal: you would
lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue
in it five weekes without changing. 1 90
Enter Ariell \invisible'\ playing solemne Musicke.
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 asleepe, for I
am very heavy.
Ant. Go sleepe, and heare us.
[All sleep except Alon., Seb.y and Ant.'\
Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes
176. ^Save: God save-HuDSON. 176. new 1. at Ant.-Kov/T.
187. And: An-PoPE.
THE TEMPEST [11. i. 192-216
Would (with themselves) shut up my thoughts,
I finde they are inclin'd to do so. 200
Seb. Please you Sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It sildome 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. Thanke you: Wondrous heavy.
\_Alonxo sleeps. Exit Arte I. '\
Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them.?
Ant. It is the quality o'th'Clymate.
Seb. Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde 210
Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep.
Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:
They fell together all, as by consent
They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:
And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face.
What thou should' St be: th' occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination see's a Crowne
Dropping upon thy fiead.
Seb. What.? art thou waking? 220
Ant. Do you not heare me speake?
Seb. I do, and surely
It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak' st
Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleepe
With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, moving:
And yet so fast asleepe.
Ant. Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st
199-206. 7 five-accent 11. ending find, sir, it, doth, lord, rest,
heavy-PoPE.
31
II. i. 217-240] THE TEMPEST
Whiles thou art waking. 230
Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly.
There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious then my customer you
Must be so too, if heed me: which to do,
Trebbles thee o're.
Seb. Well: I am standing water.
Ant. He teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do so: to ebbe
Hereditary Sloth instructs me.
Ant. Of 240
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
You more invest it: ebbing men, indeed
(Most often) do so neere the bottome run
By their owne feare, or sloth.
Seb. *Pre-thee say on.
The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed.
Which throwes thee much to yeeld.
Ant. Thus Sir: 250
Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this
Who shall be of as litde memory
When he is earth' d, hath here almost perswaded
(For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely
Professes to perswade) the King his Sonne's alive,
'Tis as impossible that hee's undrown'd.
As he that sleepes heere, swims.
Seb. I have no hope
That hee's undrown'd.
Ant. O, out of that no hope, 260
What great hope have you? No hope that way. Is
249. tbrowes: throes-PoPE.
3*
THE TEMPEST [II. i. 241-268
Another way so high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a winlce beyond
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand \?> drown' d.
Seb. He's gone.
Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples?
Seb. Claribell.
Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels
Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
Can have no note, unlesse the Sun were post: 271
The Man i'th Moone'stoo slow, till new-borne chinnes
Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
We all were sea-swallow' d, though some cast againe,
(And by that destiny) to performe an act
Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
In yours, and my discharge.
Seb. What stufFe is this? How say you?
'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions 280
There is some space.
Ant. A space, whose ev'ry cubit
Seemes to cry out. Row shall that Claribell
Measure us backe to Naples} keepe in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
As amply, and unnecessarily
As this Gonzallo: 1 my selfe could make 290
A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
For your advancement? Do you understand me?
267. new 1. at Who's-PopE.
33
n. i. 269-295] THE TEMPEST
Seb. Me thinkes I do.
Ant. And how do*s your content ^ "^desire
Tender 2 your owne good fortune? ^incline
Seb. I remember ^chilblain
You did supplant your Brothet Prospero.
Ant. True:
And looke how well my Garments sit upon me, 300
Much feater then before: My Brothers servants
Were then my fell owes, now they are my men.
Seb. But for your conscience.
Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe^
'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
This Deity in my bosome: *Twentie consciences
That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they.
And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
No better then the earth he lies upon, 309
If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
Whom I with this obedient Steele (three inches of it)
Can lay to bed for ever: whiles you doing thus.
To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course: for all the rest
They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,
They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that
We say befits the houre.
Seb. Thy case, deere Friend
Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millainey 320
Pie come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou palest.
And I the King shall love thee.
Ant. Draw together:
And when I reare my hand, do you the like
298. Brotbet: brother-2-4F. 320. president: precedent-Popi.
34
THE TEMPEST [II. i. 296-319
To fall it on Gonzalo.
Seb. O, but one word. [They talk apart. ~\
Enter Ariell [invisible"] with Music ke and Song.
Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger
That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth 330
(For else his project dies) to keepe them living.
Sings in Gonzaloes eare.
While you here do snoaring lie,
Open-ey* d Conspiracie
His time doth take:
If of Life you keepe a care.
Shake off slumber and beware.
Awake, awake.
Ant. Then let us both be sodaine.
Gon. Now, good Angels preserve the King. 340
[They wake.]
Alo. Why how now hoa; awake.? why are you drawn? 1
Wherefore this ghastly looking? ^ with swords out
Gon. What's the matter.^
Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
(Even now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you/"
It strooke mine eare most terribly.
Alo. I heard nothing.
Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a Monsters eare;
To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare 350
Of a whole heard of Lyons.
Alo. Heard you this Gonzalo}
Gon. Upon mine honour. Sir, I heard a humming,
(And that a strange one too) which did awake me:
I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend,
340. new 1. at Prescrve-SxAUNTON.
35
11. i. 320-ii. 14] THE TEMPEST
I saw their weapons drawne; there was a noyse.
That's verily: 'tis best we stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
Alo. Lead off this ground & let's make further search
For my poore sonne. 360
Gon. Heavens keepe him from these Beasts:
For he is sure i'th Island.
Alo. Lead away.
Ariell. Prospero my Lord, shall know what I have
done. I
So (King) goe safely on to seeke thy Son. Exeunt.
Sccena Secunda.
[Another part of the island.'^
Enter Caliban, with a burthen of Wood (/? noyse of
Thunder heard.')
Cal. All the infections that the Sunne suckes up
From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By ynch-meale a disease; his Spirits heare me.
And yet I needes must curse. But they'll nor pinch.
Fright me with Urchyn-shewes, pitch me i'th mire.
Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke
Out of my way, unlesse he bid 'em; but 10
For every trifle, are they set upon me.
Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me.
And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which
Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I
All wound with Adders, who with cloven tongues
Doe hisse me into madnesse: Lo, now Lo, Enter
Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me Trinculo.
12. moe: mow-DycE,
36
THE TEMPEST [II. ii. 1 5-46
For bringing wood in slowly: Tie fall flat.
Perchance he will not minde me. 20
Tri. Here's neither bush, nor shrub to beare off any
weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it
sing ith' winde.* yond same blacke cloud, yond huge
one, lookes like a foule bumbard^ that would shed his
licquor; if it should thunder, as it did before, I know
not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot
choose but fall by paile-fuls. What have we here, a man,
or a fish? dead or alive/' a fish, hee smels like a fish: a
very ancient and fish-like smell: a kinde of, not of the
newest poore-John:^ a strange fish: were I in England
now (as once I was) and had but this fish painted; not
a holiday -foole there but would give a peece 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 Begger, they will lay out ten to see
a dead Indian-. Leg'd like a man; and his Finnes like
Armes: warme o'my troth: I doe now let loose my o-
pinion; hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an Islan-
der, that hath lately suffered by a Thunderbolt: \Thun-
der.'\ Alas, | the storme is come againe: my best way
is to creepe un- | der his Gaberdine: there is no other
shelter herea- | bout: Misery acquaints a man with strange
bedfel- | lowes: I will here shrowd till the dregges of
the stcrme | be past. '^leather jug '^herring 44
Enter Stephana singing \a bottle in his hand"] .
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea^ here shall I dye
ashore. |
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a mans
46. new 1. at Here-CAFKU.. 47-8. prose-PoPE.
37
II. ii. 47-77] THE TEMPEST
Funerall; well, here's my comtort. Drinkes,
Sings. TheMastefytbe Swabber, theBoate-swaine^ I;
The Gunner, and his Mate 50
Lov^d Mally Meg, and Marrian, and Margerie,
But none of us car' d for Kate.
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a Sailor goe hang'.
She lov'd not the savour of Tar nor of Pitch,
Tet a Tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch.
Then to Sea Boyes, and let her goe hang.
This is a scurvy tune too:
But here's my comfort. drinks.
Cal. Doe not torment me: oh, 60
Ste. What's the matter?
Have we divels here?
Doe you put trickes upon's with Salvages, and Men of
Inde/* ha? I have not scap'd drowning, to be afeard
now of your foure legges: for it hath bin said; as pro-
per a man as ever went on foure legs, cannot make him
give ground; and it shall be said so againe, while Ste-
phano breathes at' nostrils.
Cal. The Spirit torments me; oh. 69
Ste. This is some Monster of the Isle, with foure legs;
who hath got (as I take it) an Ague: where the divell
should he learne our language? I will give him some re-
hefe if it be but for that: if I can recover him, and keepe
him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a Pre-
sent for any Emperour that ever trod on Neates-lea-
ther.
Cal. Doe not torment me 'prethee; I'le bring my
wood home faster. 78
Ste. He's in his fit now; and doe's not talke after the
58-9. prose-PoPE. 61-2. prose-PoPE.
THE TEMPEST [II. ii. 77-109
wisest; hee shall taste of my Bottle: if hee have never
drunke wine afore, it will goe neere to remove his Fit:
if I can recover him, and keepe him tame, I will not take
too much for him; hee shall pay for him that hath him,
and that soundly.
Cal. Thou do'st me yet but little hurt; thou wilt a-
non, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper workes
upon thee.
Ste. Come on your wayes; 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 fidend; open
your chaps againe. 92
Trt. I should know that voyce:
It should be.
But hee is dround; and these are divels; O de-
fend me.
Ste. Foure legges and two voyces; a most delicate
Monster: his forward voyce now is to speake well of
his friend; his backward voice, is to utter foule speeches,
and to detract: if all the wine in my bottle will recover
him, I will helpe his Ague: Come: Amen, I will
poure some in thy other mouth. 102
Tri. Stephana.
Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy:
This is a divell, and no Monster: I will leave him, I
have no long Spoone.
Tri. Stephano: if thou beest Stephana y touch me, and
speake to me: for I am Trinculo; be not afeard, thy
good friend Trinculo. 109
Ste. If thou bee'st Trincuiai comefoorth: Pie pull
thee by the lesser legges: if any be Trinculo* s legges,
93-4. prose-PoPK.
II. ii. 109-137] THE TEMPEST
these are they: Thou art very Trinculo indeede: how
cam' St thou to be the siege of this Moone-calfe? Can
he vent Trinculo' 5}
Tri. I tooke him to be kiPd with a thunder-strok; but
art thou not dround Stephano: I hope now thou art
not dround: Is the Storme over-blowne.? I hid mee
under the dead Moone-Calfes Gaberdine, for feare of
the Storme: And art thou living Stephano} O Stephano,
two Neapolitanes scap'd? 120
Ste. 'Prethee doe not turne me about, my stomacke
is not constant.
Cal. \^Aside'\ These be fine things, and if they be not
sprights: | that's a brave God, and beares Celestial! li-
quor: I will I kneele to him.
Ste. How did'st thou scape?
How cam'st thou hither.?
Sweare by this Bottle how thou cam'st hither: I escap'd
upon a But of Sacke, which the Saylors heaved o're-
boord, by this Bottle which I made of the barke of
a Tree, with mine owne hands, since I was cast a*-
shore. 1 3 2
Cal. rie sweare upon that Bottle, to be thy true sub-
ject, for the liquor is not earthly.
St. Heere: sweare then how thou escap'dst.
Tri. Swom ashore (man) like a Ducke: I can swim
like a Ducke i'le be sworne.
Ste. Here, kisse the Booke.
Though thou canst swim like a Ducke, thou art made
like a Goose. 140
Tri. O Stephano y ha'st any more of this^
Ste. The whole But (man) my Cellar is in a rocke
123. and: an-Popi.
123-5. 3 11. verse ending sprites, liquor, him-JoHNSON.
126-7. prose-PoPE. *38-9. prose-PoPE.
40
THE TEMPEST [II. ii. 138-168
by th' sea-side, where my Wine is hid:
How now Moone-Calfe, how do's thine Ague?
Cal. Ha'st thou not dropt from heaven?
Ste. Out o'th Moone I doe assure thee. I was the
Man ith' Moone, when time was.
Cal. I have seene thee in her: and I doe adore thee:
My Mistris shew'd me thee, and thy Dog, and thy Bush.
Ste. Come, sweare to that: kisse the Booke: I will
furnish it anon with new Contents: Sweare. i 5 1
Tri. By this good light, this is a very shallow Mon-
ster: I afeard of him? a very weake Monster;
The Man ith' Moone?
A most poore creadulous Monster:
Well drawne Monster, in good sooth.
Cal. He shew thee every fertill ynch 'oth Island: and
I will kisse thy foote: I prethee be my god.
Tri. By this light, a most perfidious, and drunken
Monster, when's god's a sleepe he'll rob his Bottle. 1 60
Cal. He kisse thy foot. He sweare my selfe thy Subject.
Ste. Come on then: downe and sweare.
Tri. I shall laugh my selfe to death at this puppi-hea-
ded Monster; a mast scurvie Monster: I could finde in
my heart to beate him.
Ste. Come, kisse.
Tri. But that the poore Monster's in drinke:
An abhominable Monster.
Cal. I'le shew thee the best Springs: I'le plucke thee
Berries: I'le fish for thee; and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon tne Tyrant that I serve; 171
I'le beare him no more Stickes, but follow thee, thou
wondrous man.
143 prose-PoPE. 154-6. prose-PoPE, 167-8. prose-PoPE.
169-73. 5 11. verse ending berries, enough, serve, thee, man-
POPE.
i. 7 41
II. ii. 169-III. i. 2] THE TEMPEST
Tri. A most rediculous Monster, to make a wonder of
a poore drunkard.
Ca/. I *prethee let me bring thee where Crabs grow;
and I with my long nayles will digge thee pig-nuts;
show thee a Jayes nest, and instruct thee how to snare
the nimble Marmazet: I'le bring thee to clustring
Philbirts, and sometimes Pie get thee young Scamels
from the Rocke; Wilt thou goe with mer* 1 8 i
Su. I pre' thee now lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculoy the King, and all our company else
being dround, wee will inherit here: Here; beare my
Bottle; Fellow Trinculo; we'll fill him by and by a-
gaine.
Caliban Sings drunkenly.
Farewell Master; farewell, farewell.
Tri. A howling Monster; a drunken Monster.
Ca/. No more dams Fie make for fishy 190
Nor fetch in firing y at requiring.
Nor scrape trencheringy nor wash dishy
Ban* ban* Cacalyban
Has a new Mastery get a new Man.
Freedome, high-day, high-day freedome, freedome high-
day, freedome.
Ste. O brave Monster; lead the way. Exeunt.
Actus Tertius. Sccena Prima.
[Before Prosperous cell.'\
Enter Ferdinand (^bearing a Log.')
Fer. There be some Sports are painfull; & their labor
Delight in them set off: Some kindes of basenesse
176-81. 6 11. verse ending grow, nuts, how, bring thee, get
thee, me-PoPE. 191. new 1. at At-CAPELL.
195. bigb-day, higb-day .. bigh-day : h&ydiSiy-Kov/v..
4a
THE TEMPEST [III. i. 3-30
Are nobly undergon; and most poore matters
Point to rich ends; this my meane Taske
Would be as heavy to me, as odious, but
The Mistris which I serve, quickens what's dead.
And makes my labours, pleasures: O She is
Ten times more gentle, then her Father's crabbed; 10
And he's compos'd of harshnesse. I must remove
Some thousands of these Logs, and pile them up.
Upon a sore injunction; my sweet Mistris
Weepes when she sees me worke, & sales, such basenes
Had never Hke Executor; I forget;
But these sweet thoughts, doe even refresh my labours.
Most busie lest, when I doe it. Enter Miranda
Mir. Alas, now pray you and Prosper a
\at a distance unseen\ .
Worke not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those Logs that you are enjoynd to pile; 20
Pray set it downe, and rest you: when this burnes
'Twill weepe for having wearied you: my Father
Is hard at study; pray now rest your selfe,
Hee's safe for these three houres.
Fer. O most deere Mistris,
The Sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
Mir, If you' 1 sit downe
He beare your Logges the while: pray give me that.
He carry it to the pile. 3a
Fer. No precious Creature,
I had rather cracke my sinewes, breake my backe.
Then you should such dishonor undergoe.
While I sit lazy by.
Mir. It would become me
As well as it do's you; and I should do it
With much more ease: for my good will is to it.
III. i. 31-57] THE TEMPEST
And yours it is against.
Pro. Poore worme thou art infected.
This visitation shewes it. 40
Mir. You looke wearily.
Fer. No, noble Mistris, 'tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night: I do beseech you
Cheefely, 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. Admir'd Miranda,
Indeede the top of Admiration, worth
What's deerest to the world: full many a Lady 50
I have ey'd with best regard, and many a time
Th' harmony of their tongues, hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent eare: for severall vertues
Have I lik'd severall women, never any
With so full soule, but some defect in her
Did quarrell with the noblest grace she ow'd.
And put it to the foile.^ But you, O you, ^discredit
So perfect, and so peetlesse, are created
Of everie Creatures best.
Mir. I do not know 60
One of my sexe; no womans face remember.
Save from my glasse, mine owne.* Nor have I scene
More that I may call men, then you good friend.
And my deere Father.- how features are abroad
I am skillesse of; but by my modestie
(The Jewell in my dower) I would not wish
Any Companion in the world but you:
Nor can imagination forme a shape
Besides your selfe, to like of: but I prattle
58. peetlesse: peerle88-2-4F.
44
THE TEMPEST [III. i. 58-84
Something too wildely, and my Fathers precepts 70
I therein do forget.
Fer. I am, in my condition
A Prince (Miranda) I do thinke a King
(I would not so) and would no more endure
This wodden slaverie, then to suffer
The flesh-flie blow my mouth: heare my soule speake.
The verie instant that I saw you, did
My heart flie to your service, there resides
To make me slave to it, and for your sake
Am I this patient Logge-man. 80
Mir, Do you love me?
Fer. O heaven; O earth, beare witnes to this sound.
And crowne what I professe with kinde event
If I speake true: if hollowly, invert
What best is boaded me, to mischiefe: I,
Beyond all limit of what else i'th world
Do love, prize, honor you.
Mir, I am a foole
To weepe at what I am glad of.
Pro, Faire encounter 90
Of two most rare affections: heavens raine grace
On that which breeds betweene *em.
Fer, Wherefore weepe you?
Mir-. At mine unworthinesse, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much lesse take
What I shall die to want: But this is trifling.
And all the more it seekes to hide it selfe.
The bigger bulke it shewes. Hence bashflill cunning.
And prompt me plaine and holy innocence.
I am your wife, if you will marrie me; 100
If not. He die your maid: to be your fellow
75. ivodden: wooden-a-4F.
45
III. i. 85-ii. 16] THE TEMPEST
You may denie me, but lie be your servant
Whether you will or no.
Fer. My Mistris (deerest)
And I thus humble ever.
Mir. My husband then?
Fer. I, v^^ith a heart as willing
As bondage ere of freedome: heere's my hand.
Mir. And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel
Till halfe an houre hence. 1 1 o
Fer. A thousand, thousand. Exeunt
[Fer. and Mir. severally} .
Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be.
Who are surpriz'd with all; but my rejoycing
At nothing can be more: He to my booke.
For yet ere supper time, must I performe
Much businesse appertaining. Exit,
Sccena Secunda.
[Another part of the island."}
Enter Calibany StephanOy and Trinculo.
Ste. Tell not me, when the But is out we will drinke
water, not a drop before; therefore beare up, & boord
em' Servant Monster, drinke to me.
Trin. Servant Monster? the folly of this Hand, they
say there's but five upon this Isle; we are three of them,
if th' other two be brain' d like us, the State totters.
Ste. Drinke servant Monster when I bid thee, thy
eies are almost set in thy head. 10
Trin. Where should they bee set else? hee were a
brave Monster indeede if they were set in his taile.
Ste. My man- Monster hath drown' d his tongue in
sacke; for my part the Sea cannot drowne mee, I swam
THE TEMPEST [III. ii. 16-50
ere I could recover the shore, five and thirtie Leagues
off and on, by this light thou shalt bee my Lieutenant
Monster, or my Standard.
Trin. Your Lieutenant if you list, hee's no standard.
Ste. Weel not run Monsieur Monster. 1 9
Trin. Nor go neither: but you*l He lik^ dogs, and yet
say nothing neither.
Ste. Moone-calfe, speak once in thy life, if thou beest
a good Moone-calfe.
Cal. Yiovi does thy honour? Let me licke thy shooe:
He not serve him, he is not valiant.
Trin. Thou liest most ignorant Monster, I am in case
to justle a Constable: why, thou debosh*d Fish thou,
was there ever man a Coward, that hath drunk so much
Sacke as I to day? wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being
but halfe a Fish, and halfe a Monster? 30
Cal. Loe, how he mockes me, wilt thou let him my
Lord?
Trin. Lord, quoth he? that a Monster should be such
a Naturall?
Cal, Loe, loe againe: bite him to death I prethee.
Ste. Trinculoy keepe a good tongue in your head : If
you prove a mutineere, the next Tree; the poore Mon-
ster's my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
Cal. I thanke my noble Lord. Wilt thou be pleas' d
to hearken once againe to the suite I made to thee? 40
Ste. Marry will I : kneele, and repeate it,
I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
Enter Ariell invisible,
Cal. As I told thee before, I am subject to a Tirant,
A Sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me
Of the Island.
16. on, by: on. By-CAMBRIOGE. 41-2, 44-6. prose-PoPK.
47
III. ii. 51-84] THE TEMPEST
Ariell. Thou lyest.
Cal. Thou lyest, thou jesting Monkey thou:
I would my valiant Master would destroy thee.
I do not lye. 50
Ste. Trinculoy 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 Greatnesse will
Revenge it on him, (for I know thou dar'st)
But this Thing dare not.
Ste. That's most certaine.
Cal. Thou shalt be Lord of it, and He serve thee. 60
Ste. How now shall this be compast?
Canst thou bring me to the party?
Cal. Yea, yea my Lord, lie yeeld him thee asleepe,
Where thou maist knocke a naile into his head.
Ariell. Thou liest, thou canst not.
Cal. What a py'deNinnie'sthis? Thou scurvy patch :
I do beseech thy Greatnesse give him blowes.
And take his bottle from him: When that's gone.
He shall drinke nought but brine, for He not shew him
Where the quicke Freshes ^ are. '^springs 70
Ste. Trinculoy run into no further danger:
Interrupt the Monster one word further, and by this
hand. He turne my mercie out o'doores, and make a
Stockfish of thee.
Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing:
He go farther off.
Ste. Didst thou not say he lyed?
Ariell. Thou liest.
Ste. Do I so? Take thou that, [Beats Trin."]
51-4. prose-PoPE. 61-2. prose-PoPE. 71-2. prose-PoPE.
48
THE TEMPEST [III. ii. 85-1 13
As you like this, give me the lye another time. 80
Trin. I did not give the lie: Out o'your wittes, and
hearing too?
A pox o'your bottle, this can Sacke and drinking doo:
A murren on your Monster, and the divell take your
fingers.
Cal. Ha, ha, ha.
Ste. Now forw^ard with your Tale: prethee stand
further off.
Cal, Beate him enough: after a little time
He beate him too. 90
Ste. Stand farther: Come proceede.
Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custome with him
Pth afternoone to sleepe: there thou maist braine him.
Having first seiz'd his bookes: Or with a logge
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake.
Or cut his wezand 1 with thy knife. Remember
First to possesse his Bookes; for without them
Hee's but a Sot, as I am; nor hath not ^windpipe
One Spirit to command: they all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burne but his Bookes, 100
He ha's brave Utensils (for so he calles them)
Which when he ha's a house, hee'l decke withall.
And that most deeply to consider, is
The beautie of his daughter: he himselfe
Cals her a non-pareill: I never saw a woman
But onely Sycorax my Dam, and she;
But she as farre surpasseth Sycorax,
As great' St do's least.
Ste. Is it so brave a Lasse? 109
Cal. I Lord, she will become thy bed, I warrant.
And bring thee forth brave brood.
81-5, prose-PoPE.
49
III. ii. 1 14-142] THE TEMPEST
Ste. Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and
I will be King and Queene, save our Graces: and Trin-
culo and thy selfe shall be Vice-royes:
Dost thou like the plot Trinculo?
Trin. Excellent.
Ste. Give me thy hand, I am sorry I beate thee:
But while thou liv'st keepe a good tongue in thy head.
Cal. Within this halfe houre will he be asleepe.
Wilt thou destroy him then? 120
Ste, I on mine honour.
Ariel!. This will I tell my Master.
Cal. Thou mak*st me merry: I am full of pleasure.
Let us be jocond. Will you troule the Catch
You taught me but whileare?
Ste. At thy request Monster, I will do reason.
Any reason: Come on Trinculo, let us sing.
Sings.
Flout ^ em, and cout ^ em: and skowt ^ em, and Jiout * em.
Thought is free. 1 30
Cal. That's not the tune.
Ariellplaies the tune on a Tabor and Pipe,
Ste. What is this same/'
Trin. This is the tune of our Catch, plaid by the pic-
ture of No-body.
Ste. If thou beest a man, shew thy selfe in thy likenes:
If thou beest a divell, take't as thou list.
Trin. O forgive me my sinnes.
Ste. He that dies payes all debts: I defie thee;
Mercy upon us. 1 40
Cal. Art thou affeard?
1 14-15, 1 17-18. prose-PoPE. 126-7. prose-PoPE.
129. new 1. at And scout-GLOBE. 136-7, 139-40. prose-PoPE.
50
THE TEMPEST [III. ii. 143-iii. 4
Ste, No Monster, not I.
Cal. Be not afFeard, the Isle is full of noyses.
Sounds, and sweet aires, that give delight and hurt not:
Sometimes a thousand twangling Instruments
Will hum about mine eares; and sometime voices.
That if I then had wak'd after long sleepe.
Will make me sleepe againe, and then in dreaming.
The clouds methought would open, and shew riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I wak'd 150
I cri'de to dreame againe.
Ste. This will prove a brave kingdome to me.
Where I shall have my Musicke for nothing.
Cal. When Prosper 0 is destroyed.
Ste. That shall be by and by:
I remember the storie.
Trin. The sound is going away.
Lets follow it, and after do our worke.
Ste. Leade Monster,
Wee'l follow: I would I could see this Taborer, 160
He layes it on.
Trin. Wilt come?
He follow Stephana. ' Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
\_Another part of the island."]
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonioy Gonzailo,
Adrian, Francisco, &c.
Gon. By'r lakin, I can goe no further. Sir,
My old bones akes: here's a maze trod indeede
Through fourth rights, & Meanders: by your patience,
I needes must rest me.
152-63. prose-PoPE. 5. akes: ache (afce)-2-4F.
III. iii. 4-27] THE TEMPEST
Al. Old Lord, I cannot blame thee.
Who, am my selfe attached with wearinesse
To th' dulling of my spirits: Sit downe, and rest: 10
Even here I will put off my hope, and keepe it
No longer for my Flatterer: he is droun'd
Whom thus we stray to finde, and the Sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land; well, let him goe.
Ant. \Aside to Seb.'\ I am right glad, that he's so
out of hope: |
Doe not for one repulse forgoe the purpose
That you resolv'd t' effect.
Seb. [Aside to Ant.~\ The next advantage will we
take throughly. |
Ant. [Aside to Seb."] Let it be to night.
For now they are oppress' d with travaile, they 20
Will not, nor cannot use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
So/emne and strange Musicke: and Prosper on the top (^invi-
sible: ) Enter severall strange shapes, bringing in a Ban-
ket; I and dance about it with gentle actions of salu-
tations, and I inviting the King, ^c. to eate, they
depart. \
Seb. [Aside to Ant.'\ I say to night; no more.
Al. What harmony is this? my good friends, harke.
Gon. Marvellous sweet Musicke. 29
Alo. Give us kind keepers, heavens : what were these?
Seb. A living Drolerie:'^ now I will beleeve
That there are Unicornes : that in Arabia
There is one Tree, the Phcenix throne, one Phoenix
At this houre reigning there. "^puppet-show
Ant. He beleeve both:
And what do's else want credit, come to me
And He besworne 'tis true: Travellers nere did lye, .
Though fooles at home condemne 'em.
THE TEMPEST [III. Hi. 27-50
Gon. If in Naples
I should report this now, would they beleeve me? 40
If I should say I saw such Islands;
(For certes, these are people of the Island)
Who though they are of monstrous shape, yet note
Their manners are more gentle, kinde, then of
Our humaine generation you shall finde
Many, nay almost any.
Pro. [Aside] Honest Lord,
Thou hast said well: for some of you there present;
Are worse then divels.
Al. I cannot too much muse 50
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound expressing
(Although they want the use of tongue) a kinde
Of excellent dumbe discourse.
Pro. [Aside] Praise in departing.
Fr. They vanish' d strangely.
Seb. No matter, since
They have left their Viands behinde; for wee have sto-
macks. |
Wilt please you taste of what is here?
Alo. Not I. - 59
Gon. Faith Sir, you neede not feare; when wee were
Boyes |
Who would beleeve that there were Mountayneeres,
Dew-lapt, like Buls, whose throats had hanging at' em
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their brests? which now we finde
Each putter out ^ of five for one, will bring us
^ Good warrant of. 1 insured traveller
W^ Al. I will stand to, and feede,
Hb Although my last, no matter, since I feele
41. Islandi: islanders-2-4F.
44. gentle, kinde: gentle-kind-THEOBAU>.
53
III. iii. 51-78] THE TEMPEST
The best is past: brother: my Lord, the Duke,
Stand too, and doe as we. 70
Thunder and Lightning. Enter ArielK^ like aHarpej) claps
his wings upon the Table y and with a quient device the
Banquet vanishes.
Ar. You are three men of sinne, whom destiny
That hath to instrument this lower world.
And what is in't: the never surfeited Sea,
Hath caus*d to belch up you; and on this Island,
Where man doth not inhabit, you *mongst men.
Being most unfit to live: I have made you mad; 79
And even with such like valour, men hang, and drowne
Their proper selves: \_Alon.y Seb.y ^c, draw their
swords. '\ you fooles, I and my fellowes |
Are ministers of Fate, the Elements
Of whom your swords are temper' d, may as well
Wound the loud windes, or with bemockt-at-Stabs
Kill the still closing waters, as diminish
One dowlei that's in my plumbe: My fellow ministers
Are like-invulnerable: if you could hurt, 1 down-fibre
Your swords are now too massie for your strengths.
And will not be uplifted: But remember
(For that's my businesse to you) that you three 90
From Millaine did supplant good ProsperOy
Expos' d unto the Sea (which hath requit it)
Him, and his innocent childe.* for which foule deed.
The Powres, delaying (not forgetting) have
Incens'd the Seas, and Shores; yea, all the Creatures
Against your peace: Thee of thy Sonne, Alonso
They have bereft; and doe pronounce by me
Lingring perdition (worse then any death
Can be at once) shall step, by step attend
70. too: to-4F. 86. plumbe: plume-RowE,
54
THE TEMPEST [III. iii. 79-105
You, and your wayes, whose wraths to guard you from.
Which here, in this most desolate Isle, else fals i o I
Upon your heads, is nothing but hearts-sorrow.
And a cleere life ensuing.
He vanishes in Thunder: then(^to soft Music ke. ) Enter the
shapes againe,anddaunce {with mo ekes and mow es^ and
carrying out the Table.
Pro. Bravely the figure of this Harpie, hast thou
Performed (my ArieW) a grace it had devouring:
Of my Instruction, hast thou nothing bated
In what thou had'st to say: so with good life, 1 10
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their severall kindes have done : my high charmes work.
And these (mine enemies J are all knit up
In their distractions.* they now are in my powre;
And in these fits, I leave them, while I visit
Yong Ferdinand (whom they suppose is drounM)
And his, and mine lov'd darling. \Exit above. "^
Gon. I'th name of something holy. Sir, why stand you
In this strange stare/'
Al. O, it is monstrous; monstrous: 120
Me thought the billowes spoke, and told me of it.
The windes did sing it to mc; and the Thunder
(That deepe and dreadfull Organ- Pipe) pronounc'd
The name of Prosper: it did base my Trespasse,
Therefore my Sonne i'th Ooze is bedded; and
rie seeke him deeper then ere plummet sounded.
And with him there lye mudded. Exit.
Seb. But one feend at a time.
He fight their Legions ore.
Ant. He be thy Second. Exeunt. 130
Gon. All three of them are desperate : their great guilt
(Like poyson given to worke a great time after)
102. bearts-sorroiv: heart sorrow-CAMBRlDGK.
55
III. iii. 106-IV. i. 20] THE TEMPEST
Now gins to bite the spirits: I doe beseech you
(That are of suppler joynts) follow them swiftly.
And hinder them from what this extasie^
May now provoke them to. '^madness
Ad. Follow, I pray you. Exeunt omnes.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
[Before Prosperous celL~\
Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.
Pro. If I have too austerely punish' d you.
Your compensation makes amends, for I
Have given you here, a third of mine owne life.
Or that for which I live: who, once againe
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 ratifie this my rich guift: O Ferdinand, 10
Doe not smile at me, that I boast her of.
For thou shalt finde she will out-strip all praise
And make it halt, behinde her.
Fer. I doe beleeve it
Against an Oracle.
Pro. Then, as my guest, and thine owne acquisition
Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter; But
If thou do' St breake her Virgin-knot, before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may 2 rain-shower
With full and holy right, be ministred, 20
No sweet aspersion 2 shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barraine hate,
Sower-ey'd disdaine, and discord shall bestrew
5. third: thrid-WRiGHT. II. of: off-2-4F.
zo. right: rite-RowE.
S6
THE TEMPEST [IV. i. 21-50
The union of your bed, with weedes so loathly
That you shall hate it both: Therefore take heede.
As Hymens Lamps shall light you.
Fer. As I hope
For quiet dayes, faire Issue, and long life.
With such love, as 'tis now the murkiest den.
The most opportune place, the strongst suggestion, 30
Our worser Genius can, shall never melt
Mine honor into lust, to take away
The edge of that dayes celebration.
When I shall thinke, or Phoebus Steeds are founderd.
Or Night kept chain' d below.
Pro. Fairely spoke;
Sit then, and talke with her, she is thine owne;
What Ariell'y my industrious servant Arte 11. Enter Ariell.
Ar. What would my potent master.? here I am.
Pro. Thou, and thy meaner fellowes, your last service
Did worthily performe; and I must use you 41
In such another tricke.- goe bring the rabble
(Ore whom I give thee powre) here, to this place:
Incite them to quicke motion, for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this yong couple
Some vanity of mine Art: it is my promise.
And they expect it from me.
Ar. Presently.?
Pro. \: with a twincke.
Ar. Before you can say come, and goe, 50
And breathe twice; and cry, so, so.-
Each one tripping on his Toe,
Will be here with mop,i and mowe.2 'Spoilt '^grimace
Doe you love me Master? no.?
Pro. Dearely, my delicate Ariell: doe not approach
Till thou do'st heare me call.
Ar. Well; I conceive. Exit,
i. 8
S7
IV. i. 51-79] THE TEMPEST
Pro. Looke thou be true; doe not give dalliance
Too much the raigne: the strongest oathes, are straw
To th'fire ith* blood; be more abstenious, 60
Or else good night your vow.
Per. I warrant you. Sir,
The white cold virgin Snow, upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my Liver.
Pro. Well.
Now come my Arielly bring a Corolary, ^ ^ train
Rather then want a Spirit; appear, & pertly. Soft musick.
No tongue; all eyes: be silent. Enter Iris.
Ir. Ceres, most bounteous Lady, thy rich Leas
Of Wheate, Rye, Barley, Fetches, Oates and Pease; 70
Thy Turphie-Mountaines, where live nibling Sheepe,
And flat Medes thetchd with Stover, them to keepe:
Thy bankes with pioned, and twilled brims
Which spungie Apr ill, at thy hest betrims;
To make cold Nymphes chast crownes; & thy broome-
groves; |
Whose shadow the dismissed Batchelor loves.
Being lasse-lorne: thy pole-clipt vineyard.
And thy Sea-marge stirrile, and rockey-hard.
Where thou thy selfe do'st ayre, the Queene o'th Skie,
Whose watry Arch, and messenger, am L 80
Bids thee leave these, & with her soveraigne grace, Juno
Here on this grasse-plot, in this very place descends.
To come, and sport: here Peacocks flye amaine;
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertaine. Enter Ceres.
Cer. Haile, many-coloured Messenger, that nere
Do' St disobey the wife of Jupiter:
Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowres
Diffusest hony drops, refreshing showres,
60. abstenious: ab8temiou8-2-4F.
70. Fetches: vetches-CAFELL. 83. here: her-Rowi.
58
THE TEMPEST [IV. i. 80-105
And with each end of thy blew bowe do'st crowne
My boskie acres, and my unshrubd downe, 90
Rich scarph to my proud earth: why hath thy Queene
Summond me hither, to this short gras'd Greener'
Ir. A contract of true Love, to celebrate.
And some donation freely to estate
On the bles'd Lovers.
Cer. Tell me heavenly Bowe,
If Fergus or her Sonne, as thou do*st know.
Doe now attend the Queene? since they did. plot
The meanes, that duskie Dis, my daughter g:ot.
Her, and her blind-Boyes scandald company, 1 00
I have forsworne.
Ir. Of her societie
Be not afraid: I met her deitie
Cutting the clouds towards Pap bos: and her Son
Dove-drawn with her: here thought they to have done
Some wanton charme, upon this Man and Maide,
Whose vowes are, that no bed-right shall be paid
Till Hymens Torch be lighted: but in vaine,
Marses hot Minion is returnd againe.
Her waspish headed sonne, has broke his arrowes, 1 10
Swears he will shoote no more, but play with Sparrows,
And be a Boy right out.
Cer. Highest Queene of State,
Great Juno comes, I know her by her gate.
\_Enter Juno.']
Ju. How do's my bounteous sister? goe with me
To blesse this twaine, that they may prosperous be.
And honourd in their Issue. They Sing,
109. Marses: Mars'8-3-4F.
IV. i. 106-133] THE TEMPEST
Ju. Honor y riches^ marriagey blessingy
Long continuance, and encreasing,
Hourely joyesy be still upon you, 1 20
Juno sings her blessings on you.
[Cer.'\ Earths increase, foyzon plentie,
Barnes, and Garners y never empty.
Vines y with c lustring bunches growing.
Plants y wtth 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.
Per. This is a most majesticke vision, and 130
Harmonious charmingly: may I be bold
To thinke these spirits?
Pro. Spirits, which by mine Art
I have from their confines call'd to enact
My present fancies.
Per. Let me live here ever.
So rare a wondred Father, and a wise
Makes this place Paradise.
Pro. Sweet now, silence:
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously, 140
There's something else to doe: hush, and be mute
Or else our spell is mar*d.
Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment.
Iris. You Nimphs cald Nayades of the windring brooks.
With your sedg'd crownes, and ever-harmelesse lookes.
Leave your crispe^ channels, and on this greene-Land
Answere your summons, Juno do's command.
Come temperate Nimphes, and helpe to celebrate
A Contract of true Love: be not too late. '^curving
1*5. i»ttb: with-2-4F.
THE TEMPEST [IV. i. 134-157
Enter Certaine Nimphes. 150
You Sun-burn' d Sicklemen of August weary.
Come hether from the furrow, and be merry.
Make holly day: your Rye-straw hats put on.
And these fresh Nimphes encounter every one
In Country footing.
Enter certaine Reapers (^properly habited:^ they joyne with
the NimpheSy in a gracefull dance y towards the end
where- \ ofy Prospero starts sodainly and speakesy
after which to a | strange hollow and confused noyse,
they heavily vanish. |
Pro. [Jside'l I had forgot that foule conspiracy 160
Of the beast Callibany and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come: \To the Spirits~\ Well done, avoid:
no more. |
Fer. This is strange: your fathers in some passion
That workes him strongly.
Mir. Never till this day
Saw I him touch' d with anger, so distemper'd.
Pro. You doe looke (my son) in a mov'd sort.
As if you were dismaid: be cheerefull Sir,
Oui Revels now are ended: These our actors, 170
(Ao i toret'old you) were all Spirits, and
Ar melted into Ayre, into thin Ayre,
Anu like the baselesse fabricke of this vision
Tnc Clowd-capt Towres, the gorgeous Pallaces,
Tnc solemne Temples, the great Globe it selfe.
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve.
And like this insubstantiall Pageant faded
Leave not a racke behinde: we are such stutFe
As dreames are made on; and our little Ufe
61
IV. i. 158-185] THE TEMPEST
Is rounded with a sleepe: Sir, I am vext, 180
Beare with my weakenesse, my old braine is troubled:
Be not disturbed with my infirmitie.
If you be pleas' d, retire into my Cell,
And there repose, a turne or two, lie walke
To still my beating minde.
Fer. Mir. We wish your peace. Exit,
Pro. Come with a thought; I thank thee ^r;V//: come.
Enter Ariell.
Ar. Thy thoughts I cleave to, what's thy pleasure?
Pro. Spirit: We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ar. I my Commander, when I presented Ceres
I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd 192
Least I might anger thee.
Pro. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlots?
Ar. I told you Sir, they were red-hot with drinking,
So full of valour, that they smote the ayre
For breathing in their faces: beate the ground
For kissing of their feete; yet alwaies bending
Towards their project: then I beate my Tabor,
At which like unback't colts they prickt their eares,
Advanced their eye-lids, lifted up their noses 201
As they smelt musicke, so I charm' d their eares
That Calfe-like, they my lowing follow' d, through
Tooth' d briars, sharpe firzes, pricking gosse, & thorns.
Which entred their fraile shins: at last I left them
I'th' filthy mantled poole beyond your Cell,
There dancing up to th' chins, that the fowle Lake
Ore-stunck their feet.
Pro. This was well done (my bird^
Thy shape invisible retaine thou still: 210
189-90. new 1. at Wc-Theobald.
6a
THE TEMPEST [IV. i. 186-212
The trumpery in my house, goe bring it hither '^ snare
For stale ^ to cateh these theeves. Ar. I go, I goe. Exit,
Pro. A Devill, a borne-Devill, on whose nature
Nurture can never sticke: on whom my paines
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost.
And, as with age, his body ouglier growes.
So his minde cankers: I will plague them all.
Even to roaring: Come, hang on them this line.
Enter AviqW, loaden with glistering apparelly ^c. Enter
Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet. [Pros-
pero and Ariell remain invisible. "^ | 220
Cal. Pray you tread softly, that the blinde Mole may
not heare a foot fall: we now are neere his Cell.
St. Monster, your Fairy, which you say is a harmles
Fairy, |
Has done little better then plaid the Jacke with us.
Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-pisse, at which
My nose is in great indignation.
Ste. So is mine. Do you heare Monster; If I should
Take a displeasure against you: Looke you.
Trin. Thou wert but a lost Monster.
Cal. Good my Lord, give me thy favour stil, 230
Be patient, for the prize He bring thee too
Shall hudwinke this mischance: therefore speake softly.
All's husht as midnight yet.
Trin. I, but to loose our bottles in the Poole.
Ste. There is not onely disgrace and dishonor in that
Monster, but an infinite losse.
Tr. That's more to me then my wetting:
Yet this is your harmlesse Fairy, Monster.
212. new 1. at ^r.-RowE. 218. on them: them on-Rowi.
221-2. new 1. at Hear-RowE. 223-9. prose-PoPB.
235-40. prose-PopE.
63
IV. i. 213-247] THE TEMPEST
Ste. I will fetch ofF my bottle.
Though I be o*re eares for my labour. 240
Ca/. Pre-thee (my King) be quiet. Seest thou heere
This is the mouth o'th Cell: no noise, and enter:
Do that good mischeefe, which may make this Island
Thine owne for ever, and I thy Caliban
For aye thy foot-licker.
Ste, Give me thy hand,
I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
Trin. O King Stephano,0 Peere: O worthy Stephana ,
Looke what a wardrobe heere is for thee.
Cal. Let it alone thou foole, it is but trash. 250
TV;. Oh, ho. Monster: wee know what belongs to a
frippery,! Q King Stephana . '^old-clothes shop
Ste. Put off that gowne {Trinculo') by this hand He
have that gowne.
Tri. Thy grace shall have it.
Cal. The dropsie drowne this foole, what doe you
meane |
To doate thus on such luggager* let's alone
And doe the murther first: if he awake.
From toe to crowne hee'l fill our skins with pinches.
Make us strange stuffe. 260
Ste. Be you quiet (Monster) Mistris line, is not this
my Jerkin? now is the Jerkin under the line: now Jer-
kin you are hke to lose your haire, & prove a bald Jerkin.
Trin. Doe, doe; we stealeby lyne and levell, and't
like your grace.
Ste. I thank thee for that jest; heer'sa garment for*t:
Wit shall not goe un-rewarded while I am King of this
Country: Steale by line and levell, is an excellent passe
of pate: there's another garment for't.
Tri. Monster, come put some Lime 2 upon your fin-
gers, and away with the rest, '^bird-lime 271
246-9. prose-PopE. 264. and't: an't-CAPELL.
64
THE TEMPEST [IV. i. 248-V. i. 3
Cal. I will have none on't: we shall loose our time.
And all be turn'd to Barnacles, or to Apes
With foreheads villanous low.
Ste. Monster, lay to your fingers: helpe to beare this
away, where my hogshead of wine is, or He turne you
out of my kingdome: goe to, carry this.
Tri, And this.
Ste. I, and this. 279
A noyse of Hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits in shape
of Dogs and Hounds ^ hunting them about: Prospero
and Ariel setting them on.
Pro. Hey Mount aine^ hey.
Ari. Silver-, there it goes. Silver.
Pro. Fury, Fury: there Tyrant, there; harke, harke.
\Cal.y Ste.y and Trin. are driven out.'\
Goe, charge my Goblins that they grinde their joynts
With dry Convultions, shorten up their sinewes
With aged Cramps, & more pinch-spotted make them.
Then Pard, or Cat o'Mountaine.
Ari. Harke, they rore. 290
Pro. Let them be. hunted soundly : At this houre
Lies at my mercy all mine enemies:
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the ayre at freedome: for a little
Follow, and doe me service. Exeunt.
Actus quintus: Sccena Prima.
\_Before Prospero* s cell.'^
Enter Prospero (/» his Magicke robes') and Ariel.
Pro. Now do's my Project gather to a head:
My charmes cracke not: my Spirits obey, and Time
Goes upright with his carriage: how's the day?
292. Liti: Lie-RowK.
6S
V. i. 4.31] THE TEMPEST
Ar. On the sixt hower, at which time, my Lord
You said our worke should cease.
Pro. I did say so.
When first I rais'd the Tempest: say my Spirit,
How fares the King, and's followers? 10
Ar. Confin'd together
In the same fashion, as you gave in charge.
Just as you left them; all prisoners Sir
In the Line-grove which weather-fends your Cell,
They cannot boudge till your release: The King,
His Brother, and yours, abide all three distracted.
And the remainder mourning over them.
Brim fiill of sorrow, and dismay: but chiefly
Him that you term'd Sir, the good old Lord Gonzallo,
His teares runs downe his beard like winters drops 20
From eaves of reeds: your charm so strongly works 'em
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.
Pro. Dost thou thinke so. Spirit?
Ar. Mine would. Sir, were I humane.
Pro. And mine shall.
Hast thou (which art but aire) a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not my selfe.
One of their kinde, that rellish all as sharpely.
Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd then thou art? 30
Thogh with their high wrongs I am strook to th' quick.
Yet, with my nobler reason, gainst my furie
Doe I take part: the rarer Action is
In vertue, then in vengeance: they, being penitent.
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frowne further: Goe, release them Arte II,
My Charmes He breake, their sences He restore,
20. rum: run-2-4F.
66
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 32-57
And they shall be themselves.
Ar. lie fetch them. Sir. Exit.
Pro, Ye Elves of hils, brooks, standing lakes & groves.
And ye, that on the sands with printlesse foote 41
Doe chase the (^\An%-'Neptuney and doe flie him
When he comes backe: you demy- Puppets, that
By Moone-shine doe the greene sov^^re Ringlets make.
Whereof the Ewe not bites: and you, whose pastime
Is to make midnight- Mushrumps, that rejoyce
To heare the solemne Curfewe, by whose ayde
(Weake Masters though ye be) I have bedymn'd
The Noone-tide Sun, call'd forth the mutenous windes.
And twixt the greene Sea, and the azur'd vault 50
Set roaring warre: To the dread ratling Thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Joves stowt Oke
With his owne Bolt: The strong bass'd promontorie
Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluckt up
The Pyne, and Cedar. Graves at my command
Have wakM their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth
By my so potent Art. But this rough Magicke
I heere abjure: and when I have required
Some heavenly Musicke (which even now I do)
To worke mine end upon their Sences, that 60
This Ayrie-charme is for, I'le breake my staffe.
Bury it certaine fadomes in the earth.
And deeper then did ever Plummet sound
He drowne my booke. Solemne musicke,
Heere enters Ariel before : Then Alonso with a franticke
ge- I sturey attended by Gonzalo. Sebastian and
Anthonio in \ like manner attended by Adrian and
Francisco: They all | enter the circle which Prosper©
had made, and there stand | charmed: which Pros-
pero observing, speakes. |
67
V. i. 58-87] THE TEMPEST
A solemne Ayre, and the best comforter, 70
To an unsetled fancie. Cure thy braines
(Now uselesse) boile within thy skull: there stand
For you are Spell-stopt.
Holy Gonzalloy Honourable man,,
Mine eyes ev'n sociable to the shew of thine
Fall fellowly drops: The charme dissolves apace.
And as the morning steales upon the night
(Melting the darkenesse) so their rising sences
Begin to chace the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their cleerer reason. O good Gonzallo 80
My true preserver, and a loyall Sir,
To him thou follow' st; I will pay thy graces
Home both in word, and deede: Most cruelly
Did thou AlonsOy use me, and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the Act,
Thou art pinch' d for' t now Sebastian. Flesh, and bloud.
You, brother mine, that entertaine ambition,
Expelld remorse, and nature, whom, with Sebastian
(Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong)
Would heere have kill'd your King: I do forgive thee,
Unnaturall though thou art: Their understanding 91
Begins to swell, and the approching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
That now ly foule, and muddy: not one of them
That yet lookes on me, or would know me: Ariell,
Fetch me the Hat, and Rapier in my Cell,
I will disease me, and my selfe present
As I was sometime Millaine: quickly Spirit,
Thou shalt ere long be free.
72, both: boil'd-PoPE.
84. Did: Didst (catchword in lF,)-3-4F.
87. entertaine: entertain 'd-3-4F. 88. •whom: who-RowE,
94. ly: lie8-3-4F.
68
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 88-115
Ar ie II sings y and helps to attire him. 100
Where the Bee sucks ^ there suck /,
In a Cowslips belly I Hey
There I cozvch when Owles doe criCy
On the Batts backe I doe jlie
after Sommer merrily.
Merrily y merrily y shall I live noWy
Under the blossom that hangs on the Bow.
Pro. Why that's my dainty Ariell: I shall misse
Thee, but yet thou shalt have freedome: so, so, so.
To the Kings ship, invisible as thou art, 1 1 o
There shalt thou finde the Marriners asleepe
Under the Hatches: the Master and the Boat-sw^aine
Being awake, enforce them to this place;
And presently, I pre* thee.
Ar. I drinke the aire before me, and returne
Or ere your pulse twice beate. Exit.
Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement
Inhabits heere: some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearefull Country.
Pro. Behold Sir King 120
The wronged Duke of Millainey Prosper o'.
For more assurance that a living Prince
Do's now speake to thee, I embrace thy body.
And to thee, and thy Company, I bid
A hearty welcome.
Alo. Where thou bee'st he or no.
Or some inchanted triflle to abuse me,
(As late I have beene) I not know: thy Pulse
Beats as of flesh, and blood : and since I saw thee,
Th' affliction of my minde amends, with which 130
108-9. new 1. at But-3-4F. 127. trijih: misprint iF.only.
69
V. i. 116-139] THE TEMPEST
I feare a madnesse held me: this must crave
(And if this be at all) a most strange story.
Thy Dukedome I resigne, and doe entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs: But how shold Prospero
Be hving, and be heere?
Pro. First, noble Frend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honor cannot
Be measured, or confin'd.
Gonz. Whether this be.
Or be not. Pie not sweare. 140
Pro. You doe yet taste
Some subtleties o'th'Isle, that will nor let you
Beleeve things certaine: Wellcome, my friends all,
[Aside to Sebastian and Antonio. '\
But you, my brace of Lords, were I so minded
I heere could plucke his Highnesse frowne upon you
And justifie you Traitors: at this time
I will tell no tales.
Seb. \_Aside'] The Divell speakes in him:
Pro. No:
For you (most wicked Sir^ whom to call brother 150
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault; all of them: and require
My Dukedome of thee, which, perforce 1 know
Thou must restore.
A/o. If thou beest Prospero
Give us particulars of thy preservation.
How thou hast met us heere, whom three howres since
Were wrackt upon this shore? where I have lost
(How sharp the point of this remembrance is)
My deere sonne Ferdinand. 160
Pro. I am woe for't. Sir.
132. And: An-PoPE, 142. nor: not-3-4P\
157. ivbom: whx)-2-4F.
70
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 140-168
Alo. Irreparable is the losse, and patience
Saies, it is past her cure.
Pro. I rather thinke
You have not sought her helpe, of whose soft grace
For the like losse, I have her soveraigne aid.
And rest my selfe content.
Alo. You the like losse?
Pro. As great to me, as late, and supportable
To make the deere losse, have I meanes much weaker
Then you may call to comfort you; for I 171
Have lost my daughter.
Alo. A daughter?
Oh heavens, that they were living both in Nalpes
The King and Queene there, that they were, I wish
My selfe were mudded in that 00-zie bed
Where my sonne lies: when did you lose your daughter?
Pro. In this last Tempest. I perceive these Lords
At this encounter doe so much admire.
That they devoure their reason, and scarce thinke 1 80
Their eies doe offices of Truth : Their words
Are naturall breath: but howsoev'r you have
Beene justled from your sences, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very Duke
Which was thrust forth of Millainey who most strangely
Upon this shore ^where you were wrackt) 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 break-fast, nor
Befitting this first meeting: Welcome, Sir; 1 90
This Cell's my Court: heere have I few attendants.
And Subjects none abroad: pray you looke in:
My Dukedome since you have given me againe,
174. Nalpes: Naple8-2-4F.
71
V. i. 169-192] THE TEMPEST
I will requite you with as good a thing.
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much, as me my Dukedome.
Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranddy flay-
ing at Chesse.
Mir. Sweet Lord, you play me false.
Fer. No my dearest love, 200
I would not for the world.
Mir. Yes, for a score of Kingdomes, you should
wrangle, |
And I would call it faire play.
Alo, If this prove
A vision of the Island, one deere Sonne
Shall I twice loose.
Seb. A most high miracle.
Fer. Though the Seas threaten they are mercifiill,
I have curs'd them without cause. \_Knee/s.2
Alo. Now all the blessings 210
Of a glad father, compasse thee about:
Arise, and say how thou cam'st heere.
Mir. O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there heere?
How beauteous mankinde is? O brave new world
That has such people in't.
Pro. 'Tis new to thee.
Alo. What is this Maid, with whom thou was*t at
play? I
Your eld' St acquaintance cannot be three houres:
Is she the goddesse that hath severed us, 220
And brought us thus together/'
Fer. Sir, she is mortall;
But by immortall providence, she's mine;
I chose her when I could not aske my Father
For his advise: nor thought I had one: She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Millaine,
7%
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 193-217
Of whom, so often I have heard renowne.
But never saw before: of whom I have
ReceivM a second life; and second Father
This Lady makes him to me. 230
Alo. I am hers.
But O, how odly will it sound, that I
Must aske my childe forgivenesse?
Pro. There Sir stop.
Let us not burthen our remembrances, with
A heavinesse that*s gon.
Gon, I have inly wept.
Or should have spoke ere this: looke downe you gods
And on this couple drop a blessed crowne;
For it is you, that have chalk* d forth the way 240
Which brought us hither.
Alo, I say Amen, Gonzallo.
Gon. Was Millaine thrust from Millainey that his Issue
Should become Kings of Naples} O rejoyce
Beyond a common joy, and set it downe
With gold on lasting Fillers: In one voyage
Did Claribell her husband finde at TuniSt
And Ferdinand her brother, found a wife.
Where he himselfe was lost; ProsferOy his Dukedome
In a poore Isle; and all of us, our selves, 250
When no man was his owne.
Alo. [To Per. and Mir.'\ Give me your hands:
Let griefe and sorrow still embrace his heart.
That doth not wish you joy.
Gon. Be it so. Amen.
Enter Ariell, with the Master and Boatswaine
amazedly following.
0 looke Sir, looke Sir, here is more of us:
1 prophesied, if a Gallowes were on Land
235. remembrances: remembrance-RowE.
i. 9 73
V. i. 218-244] THE TEMPEST
This fellow could not drowne; Now blasphemy, 260
That swear' St Grace ore-boord, not an oath on shore.
Hast thou no mouth by land?
What is the newes?
Bot. The best newes is, that we have safely found
Our King, and company: The next; our Ship,
Which but three glasses since, we gave out split.
Is tyte, and yare, and bravely rig'd, as when
We first put out to Sea.
Ar. [Aside to Pros.'\ Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went. 270
Pro. [Aside to Ar."] My tricksey Spirit.
A/o. These are not naturall events, they strengthen
From strange, to stranger: say, how came you hither/*
Bot. If I did thinke. Sir, I were well awake,
rid strive to tell you: we were dead of sleepe.
And (how we know not) all clapt under hatches.
Where, but even now, with strange, and severall noyses
Of roring, shreeking, howling, gingling chaines.
And mo diversitie of sounds, all horrible.
We were awak'd: straight way, at liberty; 280
Where we, in all our trim, freshly beheld
Our royall, good, and gallant Ship; our Master
Capring to eye her: on a trice, so please you.
Even in a dreame, were we divided from them.
And were brought moaping hither.
Ar. [Aside to Pros.'] Was't well done?
Pro. [Aside to Ar."] Bravely (my diligence) thou
shalt be free. |
Alo. This is as strange a Maze, as ere men trod.
And there is in this businesse, more then nature
Was ever conduct of: some Oracle 290
281. our: her-THEOBALD.
74
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 245-268
Must rectifie our knowledge.
Pro. Sir, my Leige,
Doe not infest your minde, with beating on
The strangenesse of this businesse, at pickt leisure
(Which shall be shortly single) I'le resolve you,
(Which to you shall seeme probable) of every
These happend accidents; till when, be cheerefull
And thinke of each thing well: [Aside to A[r.~\ Come
hither Spirit, |
Set Caliban y and his companions free:
Untye the Spell; [Exit Jriel.'] How fares my gracious
Sir? I 300
There are yet missing of your Companie
Some few odde Lads, that you remember not.
Enter Arielly driving in Calibany Stephanoy and
Trinculo in their stolne Apparell.
Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let
No man take care for himselfe; for all is
But fortune: Cortf^/i? Bully-Monster Corasio.
Tri. If these be true spies which I weare in my head,
here's a goodly sight.
Cal. O Setebosy these be brave Spirits indeede: 3 1 o
How fine my Master is? I am afraid
He will chastise me.
, Seb. Ha, ha:
What things are these, my Lord Anthonio}
Will money buy emr*
Ant. Very like : one of them
Is a plaine Fish, and no doubt marketable.
Pro. Marke but the badges of these men, my Lords,
Then say if they be true: This mishapen knave;
295. shortly single): shortly, single-PoFE. 305-7. prose-PoP«.
307. Corasio: Coragio-2-4F.
75
^
V. i. 269-297] THE TEMPEST
His Mother was a Witch, and one so strong 320
That could controle the Moone; make flowes, and ebs.
And deale in her command, without her power:
These three have robd me, and this demy-divell;
(For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these Fellowes, you
Must know, and owne, this Thing of darkenesse, I
Acknowledge mine.
Cal. I shall be pincht to death.
Alo. Is not this Stephanoy my drunken Butler?
Seb, He is drunke now; 330
Where had he wine?
Alo. And Trinculois reeling ripe: where should they
Finde this grand Liquor that hath gilded 'em?
How cam* St thou in this pickle?
Tri. I have bin in such a pickle since I saw you last.
That I feare me will never out of my bones:
I shall not feare fly-blowing.
Seb. Why how now Stephano?
Ste. O touch me not, I am not StepbanOy but a Cramp.
Pro. You' Id be King o'the Isle, Sirha? 340
Ste. I should have bin a sore one then.
Alo. This is a strange thing as ere I look'd on.
[Pointing to Ca/.]
Pro. He is as disproportion' d in his Manners
As in his shape: Goe Sirha, to my Cell,
Take with you your Companions: as you looke
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Ca/. I that I will: and He be wise hereafter.
And seeke for grace: what a thrice double Asse
Was I to take this drunkard for a godr"
And worship this dull foole? 350
330-1. proec-Pop«. 335-7- prose-PoPE.
THE TEMPEST [V. i. 298-318
Pro. Goe to, away.
Alo. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you
found it. I
Seb. Or stole it rather.
{Exeunt CaL, Ste.y and Trin.']
Pro. Sir, I invite your Highnesse, and your traine
To my poore Cell: where you shall take your rest
For this one night, which part of it. He waste
With such discourse, as I not doubt, shall make it
Goe quicke away: The story of my life.
And the particular accidents, gon by
Since I came to this Isle: And in the morne 360
rie bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptiall
Of these our deere-belov'd, solemnized.
And thence retire me to my Millainey where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
Alo. I long
To heare the story ot your life; which must
Take the eare starngely.
Pro. Pie deliver- all.
And promise you calme Seas, auspicious gales, 370
And saile, so expeditious, that shall catch
Your Royall fleete farre off: My Ariel; chicke
That is thy charge: Then to the Elements
Be free, and fare thou well: please you draw neere.
Exeunt omnes,
368. starngely: strangely-2-4F.
77
EPILOGUE,
spoken by Prospero.
J\T^^ ^y Char me s are ah ore-throwne,
■* ' And what strength I have 's mine owne.
Which is most faint: now '/ is true
I must be heere confinde by yoUy
Or sent to Naples, Let me not
Since I have my Dukedome got.
And pardon* d the deceiver, dwelt
In this bare Island, by your Spell, lO
But release me from my bands
With the helpe of your good hands'.
Gentle breath of yours, my Sailes
Must filly or else my project failes.
Which was to please: Now I want
Spirits to enforce: Art to inchant.
And my ending is despaire.
Unless e I be reliev^ d by praier
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy it selfe, and frees all faults. 20
As you from crimes would pardon^ d be.
Let your Indulgence set me free. Exit.
The Scene, an un-inhabited Island
Names of the Actors,
AlonsOi K. of Naples:
Sebastian his Brother.
ProsperOy the right Duke of Millaine.
Anthonio his brother, the usurping Duke of Millaine.
Ferdinand, Son to the King of Naples.
Gonzalo, an honest old Councellor.
Adrian, & Francisco, Lords.
Caliban, a salvage and deformed slave,
Trinculo, a Jester.
Stephana, a drunken Butler.
Master of a Ship.
Boate-Swaine.
Marriners.
Miranda, daughter to Prospero,
Ariell, an ayrie spirit.
Iris \
Ceres I
Juno \ Spirits,
Nymph es |
Reapers j
FINIS.
79
THE
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
First printed in First Folio, 1623
Two Gentlemen A
I
INTRODUCTION
Argument of the Play
"THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA' is
1 an early comedy of character, contrasting genuine
with fickle loves, and true friendships with false ones.
Valentine and Proteus, two gentlemen of Verona,
are trusted friends who become separated because the
former desires to go to Mil^n to seek his fortune.
Proteus, however, will not accompany him, for love
of a Veronese maideni^ Julia. But Proteus* s father over-
rules his decision and sends hirn to join his friend in
Milan.
Act II tells of Valentine* s arrival in Milan, where
he woos and wins Silvia, the much-sought-after daughter
of the duke. But the duke objects to this match, and
the lovers plan to elope.
Proteus now arrives in Milan, where he is warmly
greeted by his friend, who confides to him the secret
of the projected elopement and asks his aid. Proteus
promises it ; but, having seen Silvia, forgets his promise
and his vows to Julia, and resolves to win Silvia for
himself.
The false Proteus, in Act III, tells the duke of the
intended flight, and causes Valentine's banishment.
Valentine, in Act IV, takes refuge in a neighbouring
forest, where he becomes chief of a band of outlaws.
The forsaken Julia arrives in Milan, dressed as a
Two Gentlemen C
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
boy, and attaches herself incognito as page to Proteus.
He employs her as messenger to Silvia with love-
tokens, but Silvia repulses him.
In Act V, Silvia goes jn search of Valentine, and
falls into the clutches of her lover's outlaw^s. Before
they can bring her to the chief, she is rescued by
Proteus, who tries to compel her to accept him. Val-
entine appears and learns of his friend's perfidy, but
forgives him when the latter sues for pardon. Silvia
is restored to Valentine; Julia's identity is discovered,
and Proteus is glad to receive her again ; and the duke,
who meanwhile has been captured by the outlaws,
accepts Valentine and grants his band the rights of
citizenship.
Sources
Several coincidences are to be seen between this story
and that of the shepherdess Felismena in the * Diana '
of George de Montemayor, translated from the Portu-
guese about 1582, but not published till 1598 — nota-
bly, a lover's departure to another city, where he loves
another lady; the forsaken lady's quest of him in the
disguise of a page; and his choice of her as his messen-
ger. These resemblances have given rise to the belief
that Shakespeare was indebted to this story "in his
'Two Gentlemen.' But such romances were then
quite common. Shakespeare himself makes use of a
girl page again as messenger in * Twelfe Night,' and
Beaumont and Fletcher's charming Bellario, 'in * Phi-
laster,' cannot be forgotten.
* The Tyv^o Gentlemen ' was published before
Yonge's translation of * Diana ' appeared, though the
latter, as we have seen, had been written for several
years. It seems probable, therefore, that Shakespeare
Two Gentlemen D
INTRODUCTION
was not directly indebted to Montemayor. A play
entitled * Felix and Philiomena ' was produced in
I 584, which contains many of the same situations; and
* The Two Gentlemen ' may easily have followed
that.
In the German a similar play, entitled * Julio und
Hippolyta,' is to be found.
Sir Philip Sidney's * Arcadia ' introduces the hero,
at one point, as leader of a band of outlaws who were
revolted Helots; and Sidney was an admiring reader
of * Diana.* Shakespeare may have obtained his
robber episode from Sidney.
A summing up shows that stories of this nature were
plentiful and could easily have come to Shakespeare's
hands in a dozen different ways, through stage, book-
shop, or tavern.
Duration of the Action
The actual time supposed to elapse on the stage is
seven days, but a much longer period is indicated by
intervals between scenes and acts. The first two
scenes of the play occur on the first day. Then comes
an interval of several weeks, enough time to permit
Valentine to reach Milan and receive word coming
from Verona. The second day is taken up by Act I,
scene iii, and Act II, scene i. The third day occupies
Act II, scenes ii and iii. An interval ensues, long
enough for Proteus to journey to Milan. The fourth
day occupies Act II, scenes iv and v. An interval
occurs of a day or two, leading up to the day before
the night of the lovers' projected elopement. The
fifth day occupies Act II, scenes vi and vii. Act III,
and Act IV, scene i. Julia's journey to Milan creates
an interval. The sixth day occupies Act IV, scene
Two Gentlemen E
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
ii. The remainder of tjie play occurs on the seventh
day.
The period is indicated only by an allusion to the
* Emperor in his royal court,' which may be the time
of Charles V, who was lord of Milan about 1530.
Date of Composition
' The Two Gentlemen of Verona ' belongs to the
early group of comedies, and certainly antedates 1598.
Francis Meres, in his 'Palladis Tamia,' mentions it
in that year. Its date cannot be definitely estabUshed,
but internal evidence places it among the earliest. Its
uncertain style and unstable plot, nice balancing of
characters, regularity of blank verse, alliteration, and
alternate rhymes are among the sure indications of an
early period.
The subject has already been seen to identify itself
with a species of romance in vogue about 1590, and
forms a link between the pre-Shakespearian stories and
the later dramas.
Its characters also belong to the early group, several
of them prefiguring later and more finished types. Julia's
page-play appears again in Viola, Portia, Rosalind, and
Imogen. Julia and her maid are paralleled by Portia
and Nerissa. The friar's cell gives a hint of Friar Law-
rence in * Romeo and Juliet.' Launce the clown has a
more complete development in Launcelot Gobbo.
In brief, the play as a whole seems a preliminary
study to later work. The closing scene shows unde-
niable haste, especially in Valentine's renunciation of
Silvia upon the first weak-kneed apology of his false
friend. This is neither natural nor plausible, and points
to ancient Greek models where friendship is made to
outrank love. In certain of Shakespeare's sonnets (XL,
Two Gentlemen F
INTRODUCTION
XLI, and XLII) the same influence is seen — an addi-
tional link in the chain of evidence placing this among
the earliest of the plays.
Malone placed it at 1591 ; Chalmers, Drake, and
others at 1595. The earlier* date seems a safe sur-
mise.
Early Editions
There is no mention of this play's having been per-
formed during the lifetime of the author. Nor did it
appear in print in the early Quartos. Its first appear-
ance is in the First Folio of 1623, w^here it follows
immediately after the first play, * The Tempest,' with
the same number of pages, nineteen. Since it has no
masque or interlude, it becomes even shorter in presen-
tation than that short play.
Like *The Tempest,' also, this play is compara-
tively free from errors in the text, although three
strange ones are seen, in Acts II, III, and V, where
'Padua' and * Verona' occur instead of 'Milan.'
* The Names of all the Actors ' are given at the end.
Two Gendemcn G
THE TWO GENTLEMEN
OF VERONA
PRAMATIS PERSONiE
Duke of Mihkiiy father to Silvia.
T) * \ the two Gentlemen.
Froteus, j
Antonio, father to Proteus.
Thurio, a foolish rival to Valentine.
Eglamour, agent for Silvia in her escape*
Host, where Julia lodges.
Outlaws, with Valentine.
Speed, a clownish servant to Valentine.
Launce, the like to Proteus.
Panthino, servant to Antonio.
Julia, beloved of Proteus.
Silvia, beloved of Valentine.
Lucetta, waiting-woman to Julia.
Servants, Musicians.
Scene: Verona; Milan; the frontiers of Mantua. '\
THE TWO GENTLEMEN
OF VERONA
V
/ictus primus, Scena prima.
[Ferona. An open place."]
Valentine: Protheus, and Speed.
Valentine.
CEASE to perswade, my loving Protbeus;
Home-keeping-youth, have ever homely wits,
Wer't not affection chaines thy tender dayes
To the sweet glaunces of thy honourM Love,
I rather would entreat thy company.
To see the wonders of the world abroad.
Then (living dully sluggardiz'd at home) lO
Weare out thy youth with shapelesse idlenesse.
But since thou lov'st; love still, and thrive therein.
Even as I would, when I to love begin.
Pro. Wilt thou be gone/* Sweet Valentine adew,
Thinke on thy ProtheuSy when thou (hap'ly) seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travaile.
Wish me partaker in thy happinesse.
When thou do'st meet good hap; and in thy danger.
I. i. 16-46] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
(If ever danger doe environ thee)
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, 20
For I will be thy beades-man, Valentine.
Val. And on a love-booke pray for my successe?
Pro. Upon some booke I love, I'le pray for thee.
Val. That's on some shallow Storie of deepe love.
How yong Leander crost the Hellespont.
Pro. That's a deepe Storie, of a deeper love.
For he was more then over-shooes in love.
Val. 'Tis true; for you are over-bootes in love.
And yet you never swom the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the Bootes? nay give me not the Boots.
Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not. 3 1
Pro. What?
Val. To be in love; where scorne is bought with
grones: I
Coy looks, with hart-sore sighes: one fading moments
mirth, |
With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights;
If hap'ly won, perhaps a haplesse gaine;
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
How ever: but a folly bought with wit.
Or else a wit, by folly vanquished. 39
Pro. So, by your cu-cumstance, you call me foole.
Val. So, by your circumstance, I feare you'll prove.
Pro. *Tis Love you cavill at, I am not Love.
Val. Love is your master, for he masters you;
And he that is so yoked by a foole.
Me thinkes should not be chronicled for wise.
Pro. Yet Writers say; as in the sweetest Bud,
The eating Canker dwels; so eadng Love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.
Val. And Writers say; as the most forward Bud
Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow, 50
OF VERONA [I. i. 47-75
Even so by Love, the yong, and tender wit
Is turn*d to folly, blasting in the Bud,
Loosing his verdure, even in the prime.
And all the faire effects of future hopes.
But wrherefore waste I time to counsaile thee
That art a votary to fond desire?
Once more adieu: my Father at the Road
Expects my comming, there to see me ship*d.
Pro. And thither will I bring thee Valentine.
Fa I. Sweet Protheusy no; Now let us take our leave:
To Millaine let me heare from thee by Letters 6i
Of thy successe in love; and what newes else
Betideth here in absence of thy Friend:
And I likewise will visite thee with mine.
Pro. All happinesse bechance to thee in Millaine,
Val. As much to you at home; and so farewell. Exit,
Pro. He after Honour hunts, I after Love;
He leaves his friends, to dignifie them more;
I love my selfe, my friends, and all for love;
Thou Julia thou hast metamorphisM me; 70
Made me neglect my. Studies, loose my time;
Warre with good counsaile; set the world at nought;
Made Wit with musing, weake; hart sick with thought.
\Enter Speed."]
Sp. Sir Protheus: 'save you: saw you my Master?
Pro. But now he parted hence to em barque for Millain,
Sp. Twenty to one then, he is ship'd already.
And I have plaid the Sheepe in loosing him.
Pro. Indeede a Sheepe doth very often stray.
And if the Shepheard be awhile away.
69. I love: I leave-PoPE. 79. ^nd: An-Popm,
I. i. 76-114] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Sp. You conclude that my Master is a Shepheard then,
and I Sheeper' 81
Pro. I doe.
Sp. Why then my homes are his homes, whether I
wake or sleepe.
Pro. A silly answere, and fitting well a Sheepe.
Sp. This proves me still a Sheepe.
Pro. True: and thy Master a Shepheard.
Sp. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
Pro. It shall goe hard but ile prove it by another.
Sp. The Shepheard seekes the Sheepe, and not the
Sheepe the Shepheard; but I seeke my Master, and my
Master seekes not me: therefore I am no Sheepe. 92
Pro. The Sheepe for fodder follow the Shepheard,
the Shepheard for foode followes not the Sheepe: thou
for wages followest thy Master, thy Master for wages
followes not thee: therefore thou art a Sheepe.
Sp. Such another proofe will make me cry baa.
Pro. But do' St thou heare: gav'st thou my Letter
to Julia} 99
Sp. I Sir: I (a lost-Mutton) gave your Letter to her
(a lacM-Muttoni) and she (alac'd-Mutton) gave mee (a
lost- Mutton) nothing for my labour.
Pro. Here's too small a Pasture for such store of
Muttons. 1 girl of light repute
Sp. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were best
sticke her.
Pro. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound
you.
Sp. Nay Sir, lesse then a pound shall serve me for car-
rying your Letter. 1 1 o
Pro. You mistake; I meane the pound, a Pinfold.
81./ Sheepe: I a sheep-z-4F.
6
OF VERONA [I. i. 1 15-153
Sp. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over,
'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover
Pro. But what said she/*
Sp. [First nodding] I.
Pro. Nod-I, why that's noddy. ^ ^doit
Sp. You mistooke Sir: I say she did nod;
And you aske me if she did nod, and I say I.
Pro. And that set together is noddy. 119
Sp. Now you have taken the paines to set it toge-
ther, take it for your paines.
Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.
Sp. Well, I perceive I must be faine to beare with you.
Pro. Why Sir, how doe you beare with me?
Sp. Marry Sir, the letter very orderly.
Having nothing but the word noddy for my paines.
Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quicke wit.
Sp. And yet it cannot over-take your slow purse.
Pro. Come, come, open the matter in briefe; what
said she. 1 30
Sp. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter
may be both at once delivered.
Pro. Well Sir: here is for your paines: what said she?
Sp. Truely Sir, I thinke you'll hardly win her.
Pro. Why? could' st thou perceive so much from her?
Sp. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her;
No, not so much as a ducket for delivering your letter:
And being so hard to me, that brought your minde;
I feare she'll prove as hard to you in telling your minde.
Give her no token but stones, for she's as hard as Steele.
Pro. What said she, nothing/* 141
Sp. No, not so much as take this for thy pains:
To testifie your bounty, I thank you, you have cestern'd
me; |
143. cestern'd: testerned-2-4F.
7
I. i. 153-ii. 17] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
In requital whereof, henceforth, carry your letters your
selfe; And so Sir, I'le commend you to my Master.
Pro, Go, go, be gone, to save your Ship from wrack,
Which cannot perish having thee aboarde.
Being destined to a drier death on shore:
[Exit Speed."]
I must goe send some better Messenger,
I feare my Julia would not daigne my lines, 1 50
Receiving them from such a worthlesse post. Exit.
Sccena Secunda.
[The same. Garden of Julta' s house. '\
Enter Julia and Lucetta.
Jul. But say Lucetta (now we are alone)
Would' St thou then counsaile me to fall in love?
Luc. I Madam, so you stumble not unheedfuUy.
Jul. Of all the faire resort of Gentlemen,
That every day with par'le encounter me.
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
Lu. Please you repeat their names, ile shew my minde.
According to my shallow simple skill. i o
Ju. What thinkst thou of the faire sir Eglamoure}
Lu. As of a Knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine;
But were I you, he never should be mine.
Ju. What think' St thou of the rich Mercatio?
Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himselfe, so, so.
Ju. What think' st thou of the gentle Protheusl
Lu. Lord, Lord: to see what folly raignes in us.
Ju. How now? what meanes this passion at his name/"
Lu. Pardon deare Madam, 'tis a passing shame,
7. parole: parle-Rowx.
OF VERONA [I. ii. 18-50
That 1 (unworthy body as I am) 20
Should censure! thus on lovely Gentlemen. 1 criticize
Ju. Why not on ProtheuSy as of all the rest?
Lu, Then thus; of many good, I thinke him best.
Jul. Your reason?
Lu. I have no other but a womans reason;
I thinke him so, because I thinke him so.
Jul. And would' st thou have me cast my love on him?
Lu. I; if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why he, of all the rest, hath never mov'd me.
Lu. Yet he, of all the rest, I thinke best loves ye. 30
Jul. His little speaking, shewes his love but small.
Lu. Fire that's closest kept, burnes most of all.
Jul. They doe not love, that doe not shew their love.
Lu. Oh, they love least, that let men know their love.
Jul. I would I knew his minde.
Lu. Peruse this paper Madam.
Jul. To Julia-, say, from whom.?
Lu. That the Contents will shew.
Jul. Say, say: who gave it thee? 39
Lu. Sir Valentines ^?%^' & sent I think from Protheus\
He would have given it you, but I being in tjie way.
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault I pray.
Jul. Now (by my modesty) a goodly Broker^:
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines.? '^go-
To whisper, and conspire against my youth? between
Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth.
And you an officer fit for the place :
There: take the paper: see it be return' d.
Or else returne no more into my sight.
Lu. To plead for love, deserves more fee, then hate.
Jul. Will ye be gon? 5 1
Lu. That you may ruminate. Exit.
Jul, And yet I would I had ore-look' d the Letter;
I. ii. 51-76] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
It were a shame to call her backe againe.
And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid,
And would not force the letter to my view/'
Since Maides, in modesty, say no, to that.
Which they would have the profFerer construe, I.
Fie, fie; how way-ward is this foolish love; 60
That (like a testie Babe) will scratch the Nurse,
And presently, all humbled kisse the Rod?
How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence.
When willingly, I would have had her here?
How angerly I taught my brow to frowne.
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile?
My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe
And aske remission, for my folly past.
What hoe: Lucetta.
\Re-enter Lucetta,'^
Lu. What would your Ladiship? 70
JuL Is't neere dinner time?
Lu. I would it were.
That you might kill your stomacke on your meat.
And not upon your Maid.
Ju. What is't that you
Tooke up so gingerly?
Lu. Nothing.
Ju. Why didst thou stoope then?
Lu. To take a paper up, that I let fall,
Jul. And is that paper nothing? 80
Lu. Nothing concerning me.
Jul. Then let it lye, for those that it concemcs.
56. What "foole: What a fool-CAMBRlDGE.
75-6. I I.-Halliwell,
OF VERONA [I. ii. 77-105
Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes,
Unlesse it have a false Interpreter.
Jul. Some love of yours, hath writ to you in Rime.
Lu. That I might sing it ^Madam) to a tune:
Give me a Note, your Ladiship can set
Jul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible:
Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Love.
Lu. It is too heavy for so light a tune. 90
Ju. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then?
Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it,
Ju. And why not you?
Lu. I cannot reach so high.
Ju. Let's see your Song;
How now Minion?
Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out:
And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune.
Ju. You doe not.?
Lu. No /^Madam) tis too sharpe. lOO
Ju. You (Minion) are too saucie.
Lu. Nay, now you are too flat; ^ second part
And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant :i
There wanteth but a Meane^ to fill your Song. 2 fg^Qj.
Ju. The meane is dround with you unruly base.
Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus.
Ju. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;
Here is a eoile with protestation; \Tears the letter. "^
Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye;
You would be fingring them, to anger me. 1 10
Lu, She makes it strange, but she would be best pleas* d
To be so angred with another Letter. [^;f//.]
Ju. Nay, would I were so angred with the same;
Oh hatefull hands, to teare such loving words;
89. Light Oy Lo-ve: * Light o' love '-Theobald.
95-6. I 1.-Hanmer. 113. same: same-2-4 F.
I. ii. 106-136] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Injurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony.
And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
He kisse each severall paper, for amends:
Looke, here is writ, kinde Julia: unkinde Julia y
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones, 120
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine.
And here is writ. Love wounded Protheus.
Poore wounded name; my bosome, as a bed.
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search^ it with a soveraigne kisse. ^ probe
But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe:
Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away.
Till I have found each letter, in the Letter,
Except mine own name: That, some whirle- winde beare
Unto a ragged, fearefiill, hanging Rocke, 130
And throw it thence into the raging Sea.
Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ;
Poore for lorne Protheus y passionate Protheus:
To the sweet Julia: that ile teare away:
And yet I will not, sith^ sc prettily "^ since
He couples it, to his complaining Names;
Thus will I fold them, one upon another;
Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will.
\_Re- enter Lucetta."]
Lu. Madam: dinner is ready; and your father stales.
Ju. Well, let us goe. 140
Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here?
Ju. If you respect them; best to take them up.
Ln. Nay, I was taken up, for laying them downe.
Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold.
139. new 1. at Dinner-HANMER.
12
OF VERONA [I. ii. 137-iii. 22
Ju. I see you have a months minded to them.
Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see;
I see things too, although you judge I winke. ^yearning
Ju. Come, come, wilt please you goe. Exeunt.
Sccena Tertia.
[The same. Antonio' s house. "^
Enter Antonio and Panthino. Pro the us.
Ant. Tell me Panthino^ what sad^ talke was that.
Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster?
Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne.
Ant. Why.? what of him? "^earnest
Pan. He wondred that your Lordship
Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home.
While other men, of slender reputation
Put forth their Sonnes, to seeke preferment out. 10
Some to the warres, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover Islands farre away:
Some, to the studious Universities;
For any, or for all these exercises.
He said, that Protheusy your sonne, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you
To let him spend his time no more at home;
Which would be great impeachment^ to his age.
In having knowne no travaile in his youth. 3 discredit
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon, this month I have bin hamering. 2 1
I have consider' d well, his losse of time.
And how he cannot be a perfect man.
Not being tryed, and tutord in the world.*
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
13
I. iii. 23-51] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
And perfected by the swift course of time;
Then tell me, whether were I best to send himr*
Pan. I thinke your Lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthfoll Valentine,
Attends the Emperour in his royall Court. 30
Ant» I know it well.
Pan. *Twere good, I thinke, your Lordship sent him
thither, |
There shall he practise Tilts, and Turnaments;
Heare sweet discourse, converse with Noble-men,
And be in eye of every Exercise
Worthy his youth, and noblenesse of birth.
Ant. I like thy counsaile: well hast thou advis'd.-
And that thou maist perceive how well I like it.
The execution of it shall make knowne;
Even with the speediest expedition, 40
I will dispatch him to the Emperors Court.
Pan. To morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
With other Gentlemen of good esteeme
Are journying, to salute the Emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.
Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go:
And in good time: now will we breake with him.
\Enter Proteus. "^
Pro. Sweet Love, sweet lines, sweet life.
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honors paune; 50
O that our Fathers would applaud our loves
To seale our happinesse with their consents.
Pro. Oh heavenly "Julia.
Ant. How now? What Letter are you reading there?
27. tubetber: whither-2-4F.
»4
OF VERONA [I. iii. 52-83
Pro. May't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two
Of commendations sent from Valentine-,
Delivered by a friend, that came from him.
Ant. Lend me the Letter; Let me see what newes.
Pro. There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes
How happily he lives, how well-belovM, 60
And daily graced by the Emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
Pro. As one relying on your Lordships will.
And not depending on his friendly wish.
Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish:
Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end:
I am resolvM, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinusy in the Emperors Court: 70
What maintenance he from his friends receives.
Like exhibition ^ thou shalt have from me, ^ allowance
To morrow be in readinesse, to goe.
Excuse it not: for I am peremptory.
Pro. My Lord I cannot be so soone provided.
Please you delibera'te a day or two.
Ant. Look what thou want'st shalbe sent after thee;
No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe;
Come on Panthmo', you shall be imployd, 79
To hasten on his Expedition. [Exeunt Ant. and Pan. ]
Pro. Thus have I shund the fire, for feare of burning,
And drench' d me in the sea, where I am drown' d.
I fear'd to shew my Father Julias Letter,
Least he should take exceptions to my love.
And with the vantage of mine owne excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
79. Panthmo: Panthino-zF.
I. iii. 84-II. i. 16] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Oh, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertaine glory of an Aprill day.
Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun,
And by and by a clowd takes all away. 90
[Re-en^er Panthino.']
Pan. Sir Protheus, your Fathers call's for you.
He is in hast, therefore I pray you go.
Pro. Why this it is: my heart accords thereto.
And yet a thousand times it answer's no.
Exeunt. Finis.
Actus secundus: Sccena Prima.
[Milan. The Duke's palace.']
Enter Valentine, Speedy Silvia.
Speed. Sir, your Glove.
Valen. Not mine: my Gloves are on.
Sp. Why then this may be yours: for this is but one.
Val. Ha? Let me see: I, give it me, it's mine:
Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing divine.
Ah Silviay Silvia.
Speed. Madam Silvia: Madam Silvia.
Val. How now Sirha? lO
Speed. Shee is not within hearing Sir.
Val. Why sir, who bad you call her?
Speed. Your worship sir, or else I mistooke.
Val. Well: you'll still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Val. Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Silvia ?
Speed. Shee that your worship loves?
91 Father t: father-a-4F.
16
OF VERONA [II. i. 17-56
Fal. Why, how know you that I am in love? 18
Speed. Marry by these speciall markes: first, you have
learn' d (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a
Male-content: to rellish a Love-song, like a Robin-tQd-
breast: to walke alone like one that had the pestilence:
to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A. B, C. to
weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam:
to fast, hke one that takes diet: to watch, like one that
feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hal-
low-Masse: You were wont, when you laughed, to crow
like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the
Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner:
when you look' d sadly, it was for want of money : And
now you are Metamorphis' d with a Mistris, that when I
looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master. 3 2
f^a/. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
Speed. They are all perceiv'd without ye.
P^a/. Without me? they cannot.
Speed. Without you.^ nay, that's certaine: for with-
out you were so simple, none else would: but you are
so without these follies, that these follies are within you,
and shine through you like the water in an Urinall : that
not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment
on your Malady. 41
Fa/. But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Silvia^
Speed. Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
Fa I. Hast thou observ'd that? even she I meane.
Speed. Why sir, I know her not.
Fa I. Do' St thou know her by my gazing on her, and
yet know'st her not?
Speed. Is she not hard-favour' d, sir?
Fa I. Not so faire (boy) as well favour' d.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough. 50
Fa I. What dost thou know?
i. II 17
It. 1. 57-92] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Speed. That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fa-
vourd?
l^al. I meane that her beauty is exquisite.
But her favour infinite.
Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the o-
ther out of all count.
yal. How painted? and how out of count?
Speed. Marry sir, so painted to make her faire, that no
man counts of her beauty. 60
l^al. How esteem' st thou me? I account of her beauty.
Speed. You never saw her since she was deform' d.
Fal. How long hath she beene deform' d?
Speed. Ever since you lov'd her.
y'al. I have lov'd her ever since I saw her.
And still I see her beautifull.
Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
I^al. Why.?
Speed. Because Love is blinde: O that you had mine
eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont
to have, when you chidde at Sir Protheusy for going un-
"garter'd. 72
Val. What should I see then?
Speed. Your owne present folly, and her passing de-
formitie: for hee beeing in love, could not see to garter
his hose; and you, beeing in love, cannot see to put on
your hose.
Val. Belike (boy) then you are in love, for last mor-
ning I
You could not see to wipe my shooes. 79
Speed. True sir: I was in love with my bed, I thanke
you, you swing' d me for my love, which makes mee the
bolder to chide you, for yours. 83
Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would
18
OF VERONA [II. i. 93-122
Val. Last night she enjoy n'd me.
To write some Hnes to one ahe loves.
Speed. And have you?
Val. I have.
Speed. Are they not lamely vs^ritt? 90
Val. No f^Boy) but as well as I can do them:
Peace, here she comes.
Speed. \_Aside'\ Oh excellent motion;^ oh exceeding
Puppet: I '^puppet-show
Now will he interpret to her.
\Enter Silvia.']
Val. Madam & Mistres, a thousand good-morrows.
Speed. [Aside] Oh, 'give ye-good-ev'n: heer's a
million of | manners.
Sil. Sir Valentine y and servant, to you two thousand.
Speed. [Aside] He should give her interest: & she
gives it him. |
Val. As you injoynd me; I have writ your Letter
Unto the secret, nameles friend of yours: 10 1
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in.
But for my duty to your Ladiship.
Sil. I thanke you (gentle Servant) 'tis very Clerkly-
done. I
Val. Now trust me (Madam^ it came hardly-off:
For being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at randome, very doubtfully.
Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
Val. No (Madam) so it steed you, I will write
(Please you command) a thousand times as much : no
And yet
Sil. A pretty period: well: I ghesse the sequell;
109. steed: stead-CAPKLL.
«9
II. i. 123-151] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
And yet I will not name it: and yet I care not.
And yet, take this againe: and yet I thanke you:
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
Speed. [jiside~\ And yet you will: and yet, another
yet. I
Fal. What meanes your Ladiship.?
Doe you not like it?
Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very queintly writ.
But (since unwillingly) take them againe. 120
Nay, take them.
Fa I. Madam, they are for you.
Siiv. I, I: you writ them Sir, at my request.
But I will none of them : they are for you :
I would have had them writ more movingly:
Fal. Please you. He write your Ladiship another.
Sil. And when it's writ: for my sake read it over.
And if it please you, so; if not: why so:
l^aL If it please me, (Madam?) what then?
Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your labour;
And so good-morrow Servant. Exit. Sil. 1 3 i
Speed. Oh Jest unseene: inscrutible: invisible.
As a nose on a mans face, or a Wethercocke on a steeple:
My Master sues to her: and she hath taught her Sutor,
He being her Pupill, to become her Tutor.
Oh excellent devise, was there ever heard a better?
That my master being scribe.
To himselfe should write the Letter?
Fal. How now Sir?
What are you reasoning with your selfe? 140
Speed. Nay: I was riming: 'tis you that have the
reason. |
Fal. To doe what?
136-8. a rhymed II.-Theobald. '39-40- i 1.-Theobald.
OF VERONA [II. i. 152-182
Speed. To be a Spokes-man from Madam Silvia.
Val. To whom/'
Speed. To your selfe: why, she woes you by a figure.
Val. What figure/'
Speed. By a Letter, I should say.
Val. Why she hath not writ to me?
Speed. What need she.
When shee hath made you write to your selfe? i 50
Why, doe you not perceive the jest?
Val. No, beleeve me.
Speed. No beleeving you indeed sir:
But did you perceive her earnest/'
Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
Speed. Why she hath given you a Letter.
Val. That^s the Letter I writ to her fi-iend.
Speed. And that letter hath she deliver' d, & there an
end. I
Val. I would it were no worse.
Speed. He warrant you, 'tis as well: 160
For often have you writ to her: and she in modesty.
Or else for want of idle time, could not againe reply.
Or fearing els some messenger, that might her mind dis-
cover I
Her self hath taught her Love himself, to write unto
her lover. |
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time.
Val. I have dyn'd.
Speed. I, but hearken sir: though the Cameleon Love
can feed on the ay re, I am one that am nourish' d by my
victuals; and would faine have meate: oh bee not like
your Mistresse, be moved, be moved. Exeunt. 1 7 1
I
II. ii. 1-21] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Sccena secunda.
[Ferona. Julia's house. "^
Enter Protheusy Julia, Panthion.
Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia-.
Jul I must where is no remedy.
Pro. When possibly I can, I will returne.
Jul. If you turne not: you will return the sooner:
Keepe this remembrance for thy Julians sake.
[Giving a ring.~\
Pro. Why then wee' 11 make exchange;
Here, take you this.
Jul. And scale the bargaine with a holy kisse. lo
Pro. Here is my hand, for my true constancie:
And when that howre ore-slips me in the day.
Wherein I sigh not ( Julia') for thy sake.
The next ensuing howre, some foule mischance
Torment me for my Loves forgetflilnesse :
My father stales my comming: answere not:
The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of teares.
That tide will stay me longer then I should,
Julia, farewell: what, gon without a word?
[Exit Julia.']
I, so true love should doe; it cannot speake, 20
For truth hath better deeds, then words to grace it.
[Enter Panthino.~\
Panth. Sir Protheus: you are staid foro
Pro. Goe: I come, I come:
Alas, this parting strikes poore Lovers dumbe.
Exeunt,
8-9. I 1.-Theobald.
22
OF VERONA [II. m. 1-3 1
Scoena Tertia.
[The same, A street. '\
Enter Launce [leading a dog], Panthion,
Launce. Nay, 'twill bee this howre ere I have done
weeping: all the kinde^ of the Launces, have this very
fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious
Sonne, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperialls
Court: I thinke Crab my dog, be the sowrest natured
dogge that lives: My Mother weeping: my Father
way ling: my Sister crying: our Maid howling: our
Catte wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
perplexitie, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre shedde
one teare: he is a stone, a very pibble stone, and has no
more pitty in him then a dogge: a Jew would have wept
to have seene our parting: why my Grandam having
no eyes, looke you, wept her selfe blinde at my parting:
nay. He shew you the manner of it. This shooe is my fa-
ther: no, this left shooe is my father; no, no, this left
shooe is my mother: nay, that cannot bee so neyther:
yes; it is so, it is sac it hath the worser sole: this shooe
with the hole in it, is my mother; and this my father:
a vengeance on't, there 'tis: Now sir, this stafFe is my si-
ster: for, looke you, she is as white as a lilly, and as
small as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the
dogge: no, the dogge is himselfe, and I am the dogge:
oh, the dogge is me, and I am my selfe : I ; so, so : now
come I to my Father; Father, your blessing: now
should not the shooe speake a word for weeping:
now should I kisse my Father; well, hee weepes on:
Now come I to my Mother: Oh that she could speake
now, like a would- woman: well, I kisse her: why
30. would-ivoman: wood woman-THEOBALD. Rtnarea
II. iii. 31-65] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
there 'tis; heere's my mothers breath up and downe:
Now come I to my sister; marke the moane she makes:
now the dogge all this while sheds not a teare; nor
speakes a word: but see how I lay the dust with my
teares. 3 5
[^Enfer Pant him. ~\
Panth. Launce, dLVfa-y, away: a Boord: thy Master is
ship'd, and thou art to post after with oares; what's the
matter? why weep'st thou man? away asse, you'l loose
the Tide, if you tarry any longer.
Laun. It is no matter if the tide were lost, for it is the
unkindest Tide, that ever any man tide. 41
Panth. What's the unkindest tide?
Lau. Why, he that's tide here. Crab my dog.
Pant. Tut, man: I meane thou' It loose the flood, and
in loosing the flood, loose thy voyage, and in loosing thy
voyage, loose thy Master, and in loosing thy Master,
loose thy service, and in loosing thy service: why
dost thou stop my mouth?
Laun. For feare thou shouldst loose thy tongue.
Panth. Where should I loose my tongue? 50
Laun. In thy Tale.
Pauth. In thy Taile.
Laun. Loose the Tide, and the voyage, and the Ma-
ster, and the Service, and the tide: why man, if the River
were drie, I am able to fill it with my teares: if the winde
were downe, I could drive the boate with my sighes.
Panth. Come: come away man, I was sent to call
thee.
Lau. Sir: call me what thou dar'st.
Pant. Wilt thou goe? 60
Laun. Well, I will goe.
Exeunt'
40, 41, 43, 54. tide: tied-SiNGER.
24
OF VERONA [II. iv. 1-32
Scena Quarta.
\_Miian. The Duke's palace."]
Enter Valentine y Silvia , Thurioy SpeedyDuke yProtheus.
Si I. Servant.
Val. Mistris.
Spee. Master, Sir Thurio frownes on you.
Val. I Boy, it's for love.
Spee. Not of you.
Val. Of my Mistresse then.
Spee. 'Twere good you knockt him. [^at/V.]
Sil. Servant, you are sad. 10
Val. Indeed, Madam, I seeme so.
Thu. Seeme you that you are not?
Val. HapMy I doe.
Thu. So doe Counterfeyts.
Val. So doe you.
Thu. What seeme I that I am not?
Val. Wise.
Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.'
Thu. And how^ quoat^ you my folly? '^mark 20
Val. I quoat it in your Jerkin.
Thu. My Jerkin is a doublet.
Val. Well then. He double your folly.
Thu. How?
Sil. What, angry. Sir Thurio y do you change colour?
Val. Give him leave. Madam, he is 2.V\r\d.o^ Came lion.
Thu. That hath more minde to feed on your bloud,
then live in your ayre.
Val. You have said Sir.
Thu. I Sir, and done too for this time. 30
Val. I know it wel sir, you alwaies end ere you begin.
II. iv. 33-62] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Si/. A fine voUy of words, gentlemen, & quickly shot
ofF|
Fa/. 'Tis indeed. Madam, we thank the giver.
Si/. Who is that Servant?
Fa/. Your selfe (sweet Lady) for you gave the fire.
Sir TJjurio borrows his wit from your Ladiships lookes.
And spends what he borrowes kindly in your company.
T/ju. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall
make your wit bankrupt.
Va/. I know it well sir; you have an Exchequer of
words, I 40
And I thinke, no other treasure to give your followers:
For it appeares by their bare Liveries
That they live by your bare words.
Si/. No more, gentlemen, no more:
Here comes my father.
\Enter Duke.l^
Duk. Now, daughter Si/via, you are hard beset.
Sir Va/entiney your father is in good health.
What say you to a Letter fi-om your friends
Of much good newes?
Va/. My Lord, I will be thankfiill, 50
To any happy messenger from thence.
Duk. Know ye, Don Antonio y your Countriman?
Va/. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman
To be of worth, and worthy estimation.
And not without desert so well reputed.
Duli. Hath he not a Sonne.?
Va/. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserves
The honor, and regard of such a father.
Duli. You know him well.^
Va/. I knew him as my selfe: for fi-om our Infancie
60. knew: know-HANMER.
ft6
OF VERONA [II. iv. 63.96
We have converst, and spent our howres together, 61
And though my selfe have beene an idle Trev^^ant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time
To cloath mine age w^ith Angel-like perfection:
Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name)
Made use, and faire advantage of his dales:
His yeares but yong, but his experience old;
His head un-mellowed, but his Judgement ripe;
And in a word (for far behinde his worth
Comes all the praises that I now bestow. ) 70
He is compleat in feature, and in minde.
With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman.
Duk. Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good
He is as worthy for an Empresse love.
As meet to be an Emperors Councellor:
Well, Sir: this Gentleman is come to me
With Commendation from great Potentates,
And heere he meanes to spend his time a while,
I thinke 'tis no un- welcome newes to you. 79
Val. Should I have wished a thing, it had beene he.
Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth;
Silviay I speake to you, and you Sir Thurio,
For Valentine, I need not cite^ him to it, Mncite
I will send him hither to you presently. \_Exit.'\
Val, This is the Gentleman I told your Ladiship
Had come along with me, but that his Mistresse
Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Christall lookes.
Sil. Be-like that now she hath enfranchisM them
Upon. some other pawne for fealty.
Val. Nay sure, I thinke she holds them prisoners stil.
5/7. Nay then he should be blind, and being blinSd
How could he see his way to seeke out you? 92
Val. Why Lady, Love hath twenty paire of eyes.
Thur, They say that Love hath not an eye at all.
»7
II. iv. 97-120] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Val. To see such Lovers, Thurioy as your selfe.
Upon a homely object. Love can winke.
Sil. Have done, have done : here comes the gentleman.
\Enter ProUus.~\
Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Mistris, I beseech you
Confirme his welcome, with some speciall favor.
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hether.
If this be he you oft have wish*d to heare from. loi
Val. Mistris, it is: sweet Lady, entertaine him
To be my fellow-servant to your Ladiship.
Sil. Too low a Mistres for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet Lady, but too meane a servant
To have a looke of such a worthy a Mistresse.
Val. Leave off discourse of disabilitie :
Sweet Lady, entertaine him for your Servant.
Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil. And dutie never yet did want his meed. 1 10
Servant, you are welcome to a worthlesse Mistresse.
Pro. lie die on him that sales so but your selfe.
Sil. That you are welcome?
Pro. That you are worthlesse.
\Enter Servant.']
Thur. \Ser.'\ Madam, my Lord your father wold
speak with you. |
Sil. I wait upon his pleasure: \_Exit Ser.] Come
Sir Thurioy |
Goe with me: once more, new Servant welcome;
He leave you to confer of home affaires.
When you have done, we looke too heare from you.
106. a luortby a: a worthy-2-4F.
28
OF VERONA [II. iv. 121-150
Pro. Wee'll both attend upon your Ladiship. 120
[Ex emit Silvia ^ Tburio.']
Val. Now. tell me: how do al from whence you came?
Pro. Your frends are wel, & have them much com-
mended. I
Val. And how doe yours?
Pro. I left them all in health.
Val. How does your Lady? & how thrives your love?
Pro. My tales of Love were wont to weary you,
I know you joy not in a Love-discourse.
Val. I Protheusy but that life is alter' d now,
I have done pennance for contemning Love,
Whose high emperious thoughts have punish' d me 130
With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones.
With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes.
For in revenge of my contempt of love.
Love hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes.
And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow,
O gentle Protheusy Love's a mighty Lord,
And hath so humbled me, as I confesse
There is no woe to his correction.
Nor to his Service, -no such joy on earth :
Now, no discourse, except it be of love: 140
Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe.
Upon the very naked name of Love.
Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
Was this the Idoll, that you worship so?
Val. Even She; and is she not a heavenly Saint?
Pro. No; But she is an earthly Paragon.
Val. Call her divine.
Pro. I will not flatter her.
Val. O flatter me: for Love delights in praises.
Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pils, 1 50
And I must minister the like to you.
»9
II. iv. 151-180] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Val. Then speake the truth by her; if not divine.
Yet let her be a principal! tie,
Soveraigne to all the Creatures on the earth.
Pro, Except my Mistresse.
Val, Sweet: except not any.
Except thou wilt except against my Love.
Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine owne/*
Val. And I will help thee to prefer her to:
Shee shall be dignified with this high honour, 1 60
To beare my Ladies traine, lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steale a kisse.
And of so great a favor growing proud,
Disdaine to roote the Sommer-swelling flowre.
And make rough winter everlastingly.
Pro. Why Valentine y what Bragadisme is this.^
Val. Pardon me (^Protheus) all I can is nothing.
To her, whose worth, make other worthies nothing;
Shee is alone.
Pro. Then let her alone. 1 70
Val. Not for th« world: why man, she is mine owne.
And I as rich in having such a Jewell
As twenty Seas, if all their sand were pearle.
The water. Nectar, and the Rocks pure gold.
Forgive me that I doe not dreame on thee.
Because thou seest me doate upon my love:
My foolish Rivall that her Father likes
(Onely for his possessions are so huge)
Is gone with her along, and I must after.
For Love (thou know'st is full of jealousie.^ 180
Pro. But she loves you.?
Val. I, and we are betroathd: nay more, our mariage
howre, |
With all the cunning manner of our flight
168. make: makes-2-4F.
30
OF VERONA [II. iv. 181-214
Determin'd of: how I must climbe her window.
The Ladder made of Cords, and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on for my happinesse.
Good Protheus goe with me to my chamber.
In these affaires to aid me with thy counsaile.
Pro. Goe on before: I shall enquire you forth:
I must unto the Road, to dis-embarque 190
Some necessaries, that I needs must use.
And then He presently attend you.
Val. Will you make haste.? Exit,
Pro. I will.
Even as one heate, another heate expels.
Or as one naile, by strength drives out another.
So the remembrance of my former Love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
It is mine, or Valentines praise?
Her true perfection, or my false transgression? 200
That makes me reasonlesse, to reason thus?
Shee is faire: and so is Julia that I love,
^That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd.
Which like a waxen Image 'gainst a fire
Beares no impression of the thing it was.)
Me thinkes my zeale to Valentine is cold.
And that I love him not as I was wont:
O, but I love his Lady too-too much.
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I doate on her with more advice, 210
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld.
And that hath dazel'd my reasons light:
But when I looke on her perfections.
There is no reason, but I shall be blinde.
If I can checke my erring love, I will.
If not, to compasse her He use my skill.
J ExeunU-
II. V. 1-32] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Scena Quinta.
[The same. A street.']
Enter Speed and Launce.
Speed. Launce y by mine honesty welcome to Padua.
Laun. Forsweare not thy selfe, sweet youth, for I am
not welcome. I reckon this alwaies, that a man is never
undon till hee be hang'd, nor never welcome to a place,
till some certaine shot^ be paid, and the Hostesse say wel-
come. 1 ale-house reckoning
Speed. Come-on you mad-cap: He to the Ale-house
with you presently; where, for one shot^ of five pence,
thou shalt have five thousand welcomes : But sirha, how
did thy Master part with Madam Julia} 1 2
Lau. Marry after they cloas'd in earnest, they parted
very fairely in jest.
Spee. But shall she marry him?
Lau. No.
Spee. How then? shall he marry her?
Lau. No, neither.
Spee. What, are they broken?
Lau. No; they are both as whole as a fish. 20
Spee. Why then, how stands the matter with them?
Lau. Marry thus, when it stands well with him, it
stands well with her.
Spee. What an asse art thou, I understand thee not.
Lau. What a blocke art thou, that thou canst not?
My stafFe understands me?
Spee. What thou saist?
Lau. I, and what I do too: looke thee, He but leane,
and my stafFe understands me.
Spee. It stands under thee indeed. 30
3. Padua: Milan-PoPK.
5*
OF VERONA [II. V. 33-vi. 2
Lau, Why, stand-under: and under-stand is all one.
Spee. But tell me true, wil't be a match?
Lau. Aske my dogge, if he say I, it will; if hee say
no, it will: if hee shake his taile, and say nothing, it
will.
Spee. The conclusion is then, that it will.
Lau. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but
by a parable.
Spee. *Tis well that I get it so; but Launce, how saist
thou that that my master is become a notable Lover? 40
Lau. I never knew him otherwise.
Spee. Then how?
Lau. A notable Lubber: as thou reportest him to
bee.
Spee. Why, thou whorson Asse, thou mistak'st me,
Lau. Why Foole, I meant not thee, I meant thy
Master.
Spee. I tell thee, my Master is become a hot Lover.
Lau. Why, I tell thee, I care not, though hee burne
himselfe in Love. If thou wilt goe with me to the Ale-
house : if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth
the name of a Christian. 52
Spee. Why?
Lau. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as
to goe to the Ale^ with a Christian: Wilt thou goe?
Spee. At thy service. ^ale-house
Exeunt.
Scoena Sexta.
[The same. The Duke's palace."]
Enter Protheus solus.
Pro. To leave my Julia-, shall I be forsworne?
To love faire Silvia-, shall I be forsworne?
40. that that: that-a-4F.
i. iz 33
II. vi. 3-36] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forswarne.
And ev'n that Powre which gave me first my oath
Provokes me to this three-fold perjurie.
Love bad mee sweare, and Love bids me for-sweare;
0 sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sin'd.
Teach me (thy tempted subject) to excuse it. 10
At first I did adore a twinkling Starre,
But now I worship a celestiall Sunne:
Un-heedfiill vowes may heedfuUy be broken.
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will.
To learne his wit, t* exchange the bad for better;
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad.
Whose soveraignty so oft thou hast preferd.
With twenty thousand soule-confirming oathes.
1 cannot leave to love; and yet I doe:
But there I leave to love, where I should love. 20
Julia I loose, and Valentine I loose.
If I keepe them, I needs must loose my selfe;
If I loose them, thus finde I by their losse.
For Valentine t my selfe; for Julia, Silvia,
I to my selfe am deerer then a friend.
For Love is still most precious in it selfe.
And Silvia (witnesse heaven that made her faire)
Shewes Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembring that my Love to her is dead. 30
And Valentine He hold an Enemie,
Ayming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to my selfe.
Without some treachery us'd to Valentine.
This night he meaneth with a Corded-ladder
To climbe celestiall Silvia'* s chamber window.
My selfe in counsaile his competitor.
Now presently He give her father notice
34
OF VERONA [II. vi. 37-vn. 20
Of their disguising and pretended flight:
Who ^all inrag'd) will banish Valejitine: 40
For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter.
But Valentine being gon. He quickely crosse
By some slie tricke, blunt Thurio' s dull proceeding.
Love lend me wings, to make my purpose swift
As thou hast lent me wit, to plot this drift.
ExiU
Scoena septima.
[Ferona. Julians house."]
Enter Julia ami Lucetta.
Jul. Counsaile, Lucetta, gentle girle assist me.
And ev'n in kinde love, I doe conjure thee.
Who art the Table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly Charactered, and engrav'd.
To lesson me, and tell me some good meane
How with my honour I may undertake
A journey to my loving Protheus.
Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long. 10
Jul. A true-devoted Pilgrime is not weary
To measure Kingdomes with his feeble steps.
Much lesse shall she that hath Loves wings to flie.
And when the flight is made to one so deere.
Of such divine perfection as Sir Protheus.
Luc. Better forbeare, till Protheus make returne.
Jul: Oh, know* St thou not, his looks are my soules
food? I
Pitty the dearth that I have pined in.
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of Love, 20
Thou wouldst as soone goe kindle fire with snow
As seeke to quench the fire of Love with words.
35
I
II. vii. 21-52] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Luc. I doe not seeke to quench your Loves hot fire.
But qualifie the fires extreame rage.
Lest it should burne above the bounds of reason.
"Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burnes:
The Current that with gentle murmure glides
(Thou know' St) being stop'd, impatiently doth rage:
But when his faire course is not hindered.
He makes sweet musicke with th'enameld stones, 30
Giving a gentle kisse to every sedge
He over-taketh in his pilgrimage.
And so by many winding nookes he straies
With willing sport to the wilde Ocean.
Then let me goe, and hinder not my course:
He be as patient as a gentle streame.
And make a pastime of each weary step.
Till the last step have brought me to my Love,
And there He rest, as after much turmoile
A blessed soule doth in Elizium. 40
Luc. But in what habit will you goe along?
Jul. Not Hke a woman, for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weedes
As may beseeme some well reputed Page.
Luc. Why then your Ladiship must cut your haire.
Jul. No girle. He knit it up in silken strings.
With twentie od-conceited true-love knots:
To be fantastique, may become a youth
Of greater time then I shall shew to be. 50
Luc. What fashion ( Madam^ shall I make your bree-
ches.^ I
Jul. That fits as well, as tell me (good my Lord)
What compasse will you weare your Farthingale?
Why ev'n what fashion thou best likes {Lucetta.)
54. likes: likest-PoPE.
36
OF VERONA [II. vii. 53-85
Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-peece ( Ma-
dam) I
Jul Out, out, (^Lucetta) that wilbe illfavourd.
Luc. A round hose (Madam) now's not worth a pin
Unlesse you have a cod-peece to stick pins on.
yu/. Lucettdy as thou lov'st me let me have
What thou think' st meet, and is most mannerly. 60
But tell me (wench) how will the world repute me
For undertaking so unstaid a journey?
I feare me it will make me scandaliz'd.
Luc. If you thinke so, then stay at home, and go not.
Jul. Nay, that I will not.
Luc. Then never dreame on Infamy, but go:
If Protheus like your journey, when you come.
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I feare me he will scarce be pleas' d with all.
Jul. That is the least (^Lucettd) of my feare: 70
A thousand oathes, an Ocean of his teares.
And instances of infinite of Love,
Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.
Luc. All these are servants to deceitfull men.
Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect;
But truer starres did governe Protheus birth.
His words are bonds, his oathes are oracles.
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate.
His teares, pure messengers, sent from his heart.
His heart, as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. 80
Luc. Pray heav'nhe prove so when you come to him.
Jul. Now, as thou lov' st me, do him not that wrong.
To beare a hard opinion of his truth.*
Onely deserve my love, by loving him.
And presently goe with me to my chamber
To take a note of what I stand in need of.
To furnish me upon my longing journey:
37
11. vii. 86--III. i. 2i] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
All that is mine I leave at thy dispose.
My goods, my Lands, my reputation,
Onely, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence: 90
Come; answere not: but to it presently,
I am impatient of my tarriance.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius, Scena Prima.
[Mi/an. The Duke's palace.']
Enter Duke^ ThuriOy Protheus^ Falentine,
Launcet Speed.
Duke. Sir ThuriOy give us leave (I pray) a while.
We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thu.]
Now tell me Protheusy what's your will with me?
Pro, My gracious Lord, that which I wold discover
The Law of friendship bids me to conceale.
But when I call to minde yonr gracious favours
Done to me (undeserving as I am) lo
My dutie pricks me on to utter that
Which else, no worldly good should draw from me:
Know (worthy Prince) Sir Valentine my friend
This night intends to steale away your daughter;
My selfe am one made privy to the plot.
I know you have determin'd to bestow her
On ThuriOy whom your gentle daughter hates.
And should she thus be stobe away from you.
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus (for my duties sake) I rather chose 20
To crosse my friend in his intended drift.
Then (by concealing it) heap on your head
A pack of sorrowes, which would presse you downe
(Being unprevented) to your timelcsse grave.
^. yonr: your-2-4F.
OF VERONA [III. i. 22-52
Duke. Protheusy I thank thee for thine honest care.
Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs, my selfe have often seene.
Haply when they have judgM me fast asleepe.
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her companie, and my Court. 30
But fearing lest my jealous ayme might erre.
And so (unworthily) disgrace the man
(A rashnesse that I ever yet have shun*d)
I gave him gentle lookes, thereby to finde
That which thy selfe hast now disclos'd to me.
And that thou maist perceive my feare of this.
Knowing that tender youth is soone suggested, l
I nightly lodge her in an upper Towre, i tempted
The key whereof, my selfe have^ever kept:
And thence she cannot be convay'd away. 40
Pro, Know (noble Lord) they have devis'd a meane
How he her chamber-window will ascend.
And with a Corded-ladder fetch her downe:
For which, the youthfiill Lover now is gone.
And this way comes he with it presently.
Where (if it please you) you may intercept him.
But (good my Lord) doe it so cunningly
That my discovery be not aimed at:
For, love of you, not hate unto my friend.
Hath made me publisher of this pretence. 5©
Duke. Upon mine Honor, he shall never know
That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adiew, my Lord, Sir Valentine is comming.
{Exit.'\
\Enter Valentine."]
Duk. Sir Valentine, whether away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a Messenger
39
III. i. 53-84] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
That stayes to beare my Letters to my friends.
And I am going to deliver them.
Duk. Be they of much import?
Fal. The tenure of them doth but signifie
My health, and happy being at your Court. 60
Duk, Nay then no matter: stay with me a while,
I am to breake with thee of some affaires
That touch me neere: wherein thou must be secret.
*Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought
To match my firiend Sir Thurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well (my Lord) and sure the Match
Were rich and honourable: besides, the gentleman
Is full of Vertue, Bounty, Worth, and Qualities
Beseeming such a Wife, as your faire daughter:
Cannot your Grace win her to fancie him? 70
Duk. No, trust me. She is peevish, sullen, froward,
Prowd, disobedient, stubborne, lacking duty.
Neither regarding that she is my childe.
Nor fearing me, as if I were her father:
And may I say to thee, this pride of hers
(Upon advice) hath drawne my love from her.
And where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have beene cherished by her child-like dutie,
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife.
And turne her out, to who will take her in: 80
Then let her beauty be her wedding dowre:
For me, and my possessions she esteemes not.
VaL What would your Grace have me to do in this?
Duk. There is a Lady in Verona heere
Whom I affect: but she is nice, and coy.
And naught esteemes my aged eloquence.
Now therefore would I have thee to my Tutor
59. tenure: tenour-THEOBALD.
40
OF VERONA [III. i. 85-118
(For long agone I have forgot to court.
Besides the fashion of the time is chang'd)
How, and which way I may bestow my selfe 90
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
Fal. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words,
Dumbe Jewels often in their silent kinde
More then quicke words, doe move a womans minde.
Duk. But she did scorne a present that 1 sent her,
Fal. A woman somtime scorns what best contents her.
Send her another: never give her ore.
For scorne at first, makes after-love the more.
If she doe frowne, 'tis not in hate of you.
But rather to beget more love in you. 1 00
If she doe chide, 'tis not to have you gone.
For why, the fooles are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, what ever she doth say.
For, get you gon, she doth not meane away.
Flatter, and praise, commend, extoll their graces:
Though nere so blacke, say they have Angells faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man.
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duk. But she I meane, is promis'd by her friends
Unto a youthful! Gentleman of worth, 1 1 0
And kept severely firom resort of men.
That no man hath accesse by day to her.
Fa/. Why then I would resort to her by night.
Duk. I, but the doores be lockt, and keyes kept safe.
That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Fa/. What letts^ but one may enter at her window?
Duk. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground.
And built so shelving, that one cannot climbe it
Without apparant hazard of his life. 1 hinders
Fa/. Why chen a Ladder quaintly made of Cords
To cast up, with a paire of anchoring hookes, 1 2 1
III. i. 1 19-147] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Would serve to scale another Heroes towre.
So bold Leander would adventure it.
Duk, Now as thou art a Gentleman of blood
Advise me, where I may have such a Ladder.
Val. When would you use it? pray sir, tell me that.
Duk. This very night; for Love is like a childe
That longs for every thing that he can come by.
Val. By seaven a clock, ile get you such a Ladder.
Duk. But harke thee: I will goe to her alone, 130
How shall I best convey the Ladder thither.?
Val. It will be light (my Lord) that you may beare it
Under a cloake, that is of any length.
Duk. A cloake as long as thine will serve the turne?
Val. I my good Lord.
Duk. Then let me see thy cloake,
lie get me one of such another length.
Val. Why any cloake will serve the turn ^my Lord^
Duk. How shall I fashion me to weare a cloake.?
I pray thee let me feele thy cloake upon me. 140
What Letter is this same.? what's here.? to Silvia}
And heere an Engine fit for my proceeding,
Ile be so bold to breake the seale for once. [Reads. "^
My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
And slaves they are to mey that send them flying.
Ohy could their Master come, and goe as lightly,
Himselfe would lodge, where (^senceles') they are lying.
My Herald Thoughts, in thy pure bosome rest- them.
While I (their King) that thither them importune
Doe curse the grace, that with such grace hath blest
them, I 150
Because my selfe doe want my servants fortune.
149. thither: hither-GLOBE.
OF VERONA [III. i. 148-177
/ curse my selfey for they are sent by me^
That they should harbour where their Lord should
be, I
What's here? Silvia y this night I will enfranchise thee.
'Tis so: and heere's the Ladder for the purpose.
Why Phaeton (for thou art Merops sonne)
Wilt thou aspire to guide th€ heavenly Car.?
And with thy daring folly burne the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Goe base Intruder, over- weening Slave, 160
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equall mates.
And thinke my patience, (more then thy desert)
Is priviledge for thy departure hence.
Thanke me for this, more then for all the favors
Which (all too-much) I have bestowed on thee.
But if thou linger in my Territories
Longer then swiftest expedition
Will give thee time to leave our royall Court,
By heaven, my wrath shall farre exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter, or thy selfe. 170
Be gone, I will not heare thy vaine excuse.
But as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit.']
VaL And why notdeath, rather then living torment.?
To die, is to be banisht from my selfe.
And Silvia h my selfe: banish' d from her
Is selfe from selfe. A deadly banishment:
What light, is light, if Silvia be not seene?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unlesse it be to thinke that she is by
And feed upon the shadow of perfection. 1 80
153. should be: would be-2-4F.
43
III. i. 178-20^] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Except I be by Silvia in the night.
There is no musicke in the Nightingale.
Unlesse I looke on Silvia in the day.
There is no day for me to looke upon.
Shee is my essence, and I leave to be;
If I be not by her faire influence
Foster* d, illumin'd, cherish' d, kept alive.
I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome.
Tarry I heere, I but attend on death.
But flie I hence, I flie aw^ay from life. 190
\_Enter Proteus and Launce.~\
Pro. Run (boy) run, run, and seeke him out.
Lau. So-hough, Soa hough
Pro. What seest thou?
Lau. Him we goe to finde.
There's not a haire on's head, but t'is a Valentine.
Pro. Valentine}
Val. No.
Pro. Who then? his Spirit?
Val. Neither,
Pro. What then? 200
Val. Nothing.
Lau. Can nothing speake? Master, shall I striker'
Pro. Who w^ouldst thou strike/'
Lau. Nothing.
Pro.. Villaine, forbeare.
Lau. Why Sir, He strike nothing: I pray you.
Pro. Sirha, I say forbeare: friend Valentine ^ a word.
Val. My eares are stopt, & cannot hear good newes.
So much of bad already hath possest them.
Pro. Then in dumbe silence will I bury mine, 210
For they are harsh, un-tuneable, and bad.
44
OF VERONA [III. i. 209-241
Val. Is Silvia dead?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Silvia,
Hath she forsworne me?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworne me.
What is your newes?
Lau. Sir, there is a proclamation, that you are van-
ished. I
Pro. That thou art banish' d: oh that's the newes j
From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. 221
Val. Oh, I have fed upon this woe already.
And now excesse of it will make me surfet.
Doth Silvia know that I am banish' d?
Pro. I, I: and she hath offered to the doome
(Which un-reverst stands in effectuall force)
A Sea of melting pearle, which some call teares;
Those at her fathers churlish feete she tenderd.
With them upon her knees, her humble selfe.
Wringing her hands, whose whitenes so became them.
As if but now they waxed pale for woe; 231
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up.
Sad sighes, deepe grones, nor silver-shedding teares
Could penetrate her uncompassionate Sire;
But Valentine, if he be tane, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so.
When she for thy repeale was suppliant.
That to close prison he commanded her.
With many bitter threats of biding there.
Val. No more: unles the next word that thou speak' st
Have some malignant power upon my life: 241
If so : I pray thee breath it in mine eare.
As ending Antheme of my endlesse dolor.
Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not helpe,
45
I
III. i. 242-274] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
And study helpe for that which thou lament' st.
Time is the Nurse, and breeder of all good;
Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love:
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life:
Hope is a lovers stafFe, walke hence with that
And manage it, against despairing thoughts: 250
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence.
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver' d
Even in the milke- white bosome of thy Love.
The time now serves not to expostulate.
Come, He convey thee through the City-gate.
And ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concerne thy Love-affaires:
As thou lov'st Silvia (though not for thy selfe)
Regard thy danger, and along with me. 259
Fal. I pray thee LauncCy and if thou seest my Boy
Bid him make haste, and meet me at the North-gate.
Pro. Goe sirha, finde him out: Come Valentine.
VaL Oh my deere Silvia \ haplesse Valentine.
\Exeunt Val. and Pro.'^
Launce. I am but a foole, looke you, and yet I have
the wit to thinke my Master is a kinde of a knave: but
that's all one, if he be but one knave: He lives not now
that knowes me to be in love, yet I am in love, but a
Teeme of horse shall not plucke that from me : nor who
'tis I love: and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I
will not tell my selfe: and yet'tis a Milke-maid: yet 'tis
not a maid: for shee hath had Gossips: yet 'tis a maid,
for she is her Masters maid, and serves for wages. Shee
hath more qualities then a Water-Spaniell, which is
much in a bare Christian : [Pulling out a paper. ] Heere
is the Cate-log of her | Condition. Inprimis. Shee can
260. and: an-THEOBALD. 275, Inprimis: Imprimis-3-4F.
46
OF VERONA [III. i. 274.310
fetch and carry : why | a horse can doe no more ; nay,
a horse cannot fetch, but | onely carry, therefore is shee
better then a Jade. Item. | She can milke, looke you,
a sweet vertue in a maid with | cleane hands. 279
\Enter Speed.'\
Speed. How now Signior Launce ? what newes with
your Mastership?
La. With my Mastership? why, it is at Sea:
Sp. Well, your old vice still : mistake the word : what
newes then in your paper?
La. The black' st newes that ever thou heard' st.
Sp. Why man/" how blacke?
La. Why, as blacke as Inke.
Sp. Let me read them?
La. Fie on thee Jolt-head, thou canst not read.
Sp. Thou lyest: I can. 290
La. I will try thee: tell me this; who begot thee?
Sp. Marry, the son of my Grand-father.
La. Oh illiterate loyterer; it was the sonne of thy
Grand-mother: this proves that thou canst not read.
Sp. Come foole, come; try me in thy paper.
La. There; and S. Nicholas be thy speed.
5"^. \Reads\ Inprimis she can milke.
La, I that she can.
Sp. Item, she brewes good Ale. 299
La. And thereof comes the proverbe; (^Blessing of
your hearty you brew good Ale. )
Sp, Item, she can sowe.
La. That's as much as to say ( Can she soV)
Sp. Item she can knit.
*8a. Mastership: master's ship-TnEOBALD.
297. Inprimis: Imprimis— 3-4F.
47
III. i. 311-346] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
La. What neede a man care for a stock with a wench.
When she can knit him a stocke?
Sp. Item, she can wash and secure.
La. A special! vertue: for then shee neede not be
washM, and scowr'd.
Sp. Item, she can spin. 3 10
La. Then may I set the world on wheeles, when she
can spin for her living.
Sp. Item, she hath many namelesse vertues.
La. That's as much as to say Bastard-vertues: that
indeede know not their fathers; and therefore have no
names.
Sp. Here follow her vices.
La. Close at the heeles of her vertues.
Sp. Item, shee is not to be fasting in respect of her
breath. , 320
La» Well; that fault may be mended with a break-
fast; read on.
Sp. Item, she hath a sweet mouth.
La. That makes amends for her soure breath.
Sp. Item, she doth talke in her sleepe.
La. It's no matter for that; so shee sleepe not in her
talke.
Sp. Item, she is slow in words.
La. Oh villaine, that set this downe among her vices;
To be slow in words, is a womans onely vertue: 330
I pray thee out with't, and place it for her chiefe vertue.
Sp. Item, she is proud.
La. Out with that too:
It was Eves legacie, and cannot be t'ane from her.
Sp. Item, she hath no teeth.
La. I care not for that neither: because I love crusts.
319. befaiting: be kissed fasting-RowE.
48
OF VERONA [III. i. 347-386
Sp. Item, she is curst.
La. Well: the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
Sp. Item, she will often praise her liquor. 339
La. If her liquor be good, she shall; rf she will not,
I will; for good things should be praised.
<S^. Item, she is too liberall.
La, Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ downe
she is slow of- of her purse, shee shall not, for that ile
keepe shut; Now, of another thing shee may, and that
cannot I helpe. Well, proceede.
Sp. Item, shee hath more haire then wit, and more
faults then haires, and more wealth then faults.
La. Stop there: lie have her: she was mine, and not
mine, twice or thrice in that last Article: rehearse that
once more. 3 5 1
Sp. Item, she hath more haire then wit.
La. More haire then wit: it may be ile prove it: The
cover of the salt, hides the salt, and therefore it is more
then the salt; the haire that covers the wit, is more
then the wit; for the greater hides the lesse: What's
next.^
Sp. And more faults then haires.
La. That's monstrous: oh that that were out.
Sp. And more wealth then faults. 360
La. Why that word makes the faults gracious:
Well, ile have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is
impossible.
Sp. What then.?
La. Why then, will I tell thee, that thy Master stales
for thee at the North gate.
Sp. For me?
La. For thee? I, who art thou? he hath staid for a bet-
ter man then thee.
Sp. And must I goe to him? 370
i. 13 49
III. i. 387-ii. 19] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
La. Thou must run to him; for thou hast staid so long,
that going will scarce serve the turne.
Sp. Why didst not tell me sooner/* 'pox of your love
Letters.
La. Now will he be swing' d for reading my Letter;
An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himselfe into se-
crets: He after, to rejoyce in the boyes correction. Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
[The same. The Duke's palace. "]
Enter Duke, Thurioy Protheus.
Du. Sir Thurioy feare not, but that she will love you
Now Valentine is banish' d from her sight.
Th. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most,
Forsworne my company, and rail'd at me.
That I am desperate of obtaining her.
Du. This weake impresse of Love, is as a figure
Trenched^ in ice, which with an houres heate 1 carved
Dissolves to water, and doth loose his forme. 10
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts.
And worthlesse Valentine shall be forgot.
\Enter Proteus.'^
How now sir Protheus, is your countriman
(According to our Proclamation) gon?
Pro. Gon, my good Lord.
Du. My daughter takes his going grievously?
Pro. A little time (my Lord) will kill that griefe.
Du. So I beleeve: but Thurio thinkes not so:
Protheus y the good conceit^ I hold of thee, 2 opinion
(For thou hast showne some signe of good desert) 20
Makes me the better to confer with thee.
50
OF VERONA [III. ii. 20-53
Pro. Longer then I prove loyall to your Grace,
Let me not live, to looke upon your Grace.
Du. Thou know' St how willingly, I would effect
The match betweene sir Thurio, and my daughter.^
Pro. I doe my Lord.
Du. And also, I thinke, thou art not ignorant
How she opposes her against my will?
Pro. She did my Lord, when Falentine was here.
Du. I, and perversly, she persevers so; 30
What might we doe to make the girle forget
The love of Valentine , and love sir Thurio}
Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine y
With falsehood, cowardize, and poore discent:
Three things, that women highly hold in hate.
Du. I, but she'll thinke, that it is spoke in hate.
Pro. I, if his enemy deliver it.
Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend.
Du. Then you must undertake to slander him. 40
Pro. And that (my Lord) I shall be loath to doe;
*Tis an ill office for a Gentleman,
Especially against his very friend.
Du. Where your good word cannot advantage him.
Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent.
Being in treated to it by your friend.
Pro. You have prevail' d (my Lord) if I can doe it
By ought that I can speake in his dispraise.
She shall not long continue love to him: 50
But say this weede her love from Valentine ^
It followes not that she will love sir Thurio.
Th. Therefore, as you unwinde her love ffom him;
Least it should ravell, and be good to none.
You must provide to bottome it on me:
SI
III. ii. <;4-87] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Which must be done, by praising me as much
As you, in worth dispraise, sir Valentine.
Du, And Protheusy we dare trust you in this kinde.
Because we Icnow ^on Valentines report)
You are already loves firme votary, 60
And cannot soone revolt, and change your minde.
Upon this warrant, shall you have accesse.
Where you, with Silvia y may conferre at large.
For she is lumpish, heavy, mellancholly.
And (for your friends sake) will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her, by your perswasion.
To hate yong Valentine, and love my friend.
Pro. As much as I can doe, I will effect:
But you sir Thurio, are not sharpe enough: 69
You must lay Lime,l to tangle her desires ^ bird-lime
By waleflill Sonnets, whose composed Rimes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vowes.
Du. I, much is the force of heaven-bred Poesie.
Pro. Say that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your teares, your sighes, your heart:
Write till your inke be dry; and with your teares
Moist it againe: and frame some feeling line.
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus Lute, was strung with Poets sinewes.
Whose golden touch could soften Steele and stones; 80
Make Tygers tame, and huge Leviathans
Forsake unfounded deepes, to dance on Sands.
After your dire-lamenting Elegies,
Visit by night your Ladies chamber-window
With some sweet Consort; To their Instruments
Tune a deploring dumpe:^ the nights dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance:
This, or else nothing, will inherit her. 2 j/^^^ dance- tune
73. new 1. at much-PoPE. 85. Consort: concert-HANMBS.
5»
OF VERONA [III. ii. 88-IV. i. 1 5
Du. This discipline, showes thou hast bin in love.
Th, And thy advice, this night, ile put in practise:
Therefore, sweet Protheus, my direction-giver, 9 1
Let us into the City presently
To sort! some Gentlemen, vvrell skil'd in Musicke.
I have a Sonnet, that will serve the turne '^pick out
To give the on-set to thy good advise.
Du. About it Gentlemen.
Pro. We'll wait upon your Grace, till after Supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Du. Even now about it, I will pardon you. Exeunt.
Actus Quartus. Scoena Trtma.
\The frontiers of Mantua. Aforest.'\
Enter Valentine y Speedy and certaine Out-lawes.
1. Out- 1. Fellowes, stand fast: I see a passenger.
2 . Out. If there be ten, shrinke not, but down with ' em.
\_Enter Valentine and Speed.'\
3 . Out. Stand sir, and throw us that you have about* ye.
If not; we'll make you sit, and rifle you.
Sp. Sir we are undone; these are the Villaines
That all the Travailers doe feare so much.
Val. My friends.
1. Out. That's not so, sir: we are your enemies. 10
2. Out. Peace; we'll heare him.
3 . Out. I by my beard will we; for he is a proper man.
Fa I. Then know that I have little wealth to loose;
A man I am, cross' d with adversitie;
My riches, are these poore habiliments.
Of which, if you should here disflirnish me.
You take the sum and substance that I have.
53
IV. i. 16-46] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
2. Out. Whether travell you?
Val. To Verona.
1 . Out. Whence came you? 20
Val. From Millaine.
'if. Out. Have you long sojournM there/*
Val. Some sixteene moneths, and longer might have
staid, I
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
i.Out. What, were you banish' d thence?
Val. I was.
2. Out. For what offence.?
Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse;
I kil'd a man, whose death I much repent.
But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, 30
Without false vantage, or base treachery.
1 . Out. Why nere repent it, if it were done so;
But were you banisht for so small a fault?
Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doome.
2. Out. Have you the Tongues?
Val. My youthfull travaile, therein made me happy.
Or else I often had beene often miserable.
3. Out. By the bare scalpe o^ Robin Hoods fat Fryer,
This fellow were a King, for our wilde faction.
1. Out. We'll have him: Sirs, a word. 40
Sp. Master, be one of them:
It's an honourable kinde of theevery.
Val. Peace villaine.
2. Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?
Val. Nothing but my fortune.
3. Out. Know then, that some of us are Gentlemen,
Such as the fiiry of ungovern'd youth
Thrust from the company of awfull men.
37. often miserable: often out-2-4F.
54
OF VERONA [IV. i. 47-76
My selfe was from Verona banished.
For practising to steale away a Lady, 50
And heire and Neece, alide unto the Duke.
2. Out. And I from Mantua, for a Gentleman,
Who, in my moode, I stab'd unto the heart.
1 . Out. And I, for such hke petty crimes as these.
But to the purpose: for we cite our faults.
That they may hold excus'd our lawlesse lives;
And partly seeing you are beautifide
With goodly shape; and by your owne report,
A Linguist, and a man of such perfection.
As we doe in our quality much want. 60
2. Out. Indeede because you are a banish 'd man.
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
Are you content to be our Generall?
To make a vertue of necessity.
And live as we doe in this wildernesse.?
3 . Out. What saist thou? wilt thou be of our consort?^
Say I, and be the captaine of us all; 1 band
We* 11 doe thee homage, and be rul'd by thee.
Love thee, as our Commander, and our King.
1 . Out. But if thou scorne our curtesie, thou dyest.
2. Out. Thou shalt not live, to brag what we have of-
fered. I 71
Val. I take your offer, and will live with you.
Provided that you do no outrages
On silly women, or poore passengers.
3 . Out. No, we detest such vile base practises.
Come, goe with us, we'll bring thee to our Crewes,
And show thee all the Treasure we have got;
Which, with our selves, all rest at thy dispose. Exeunt,
5 1 . Neece; near-THEOBALD.
55
IV. ii. 1-25] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Sccena Secunda.
[Milan. Outside the Duke's palace, under Silvia' s
chamber. ~\^
Enter Protbeus, Thurioy Julia , Host, Musitiatiy Silvia.
Pro. Already have I bin false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio,
Under the colour of commending him,
I have accesse my owne love to prefer.
But Silvia is too faire, too true, too holy.
To be corrupted with my worthlesse guifts;
When I protest true loyalty to her.
She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; 10
When to her beauty I commend my vowes.
She bids me thinke how I have bin forsworne
In breaking faith with Julia, whom I lov*d;
And notwithstanding all her sodaine quips.
The least whereof would quell a lovers hope;
Yet (Spaniel-like^ the more she spumes my love.
The more it growes, and fawneth on her still;
But here comes Thurio i now must we to her window.
And give some evening Musique to her eare. 19
[Enter Thurio and Musicians. "^
Th. How now, sir Protheus, are you crept before us?
Pro. I gentle Thurio, for you know that love
Will creepe in service, where it cannot goe.
Th. I, but I hope. Sir, that you love not here.
Pro. Sir, but I doe: or else I would be hence.
Th. Who, Silvia}
Pro. I, Silvia, for your sake.
Th. I thanke you for your owne; Now Gentlemen
Let's tune: and t o o it lustily a while.
56
OF VERONA [IV. ii. 26-57
\^E;iUr, at a distance. Host, and Julia in boy's clothes. '\
Ho. Now, my yong guest; me thinb your' allycholly;
I pray you why is \\.? 30
Ju. Marry (mine Host') because I cannot be merry.
Ho. Come, we' li have you merry : ile bring you where
you shall heare Musique, and see the Gentleman that
you ask'd for.
Ju. But shall I heare him speake.
Ho. I that you shall.
Ju. That will be Musique. \Music plays. '\
Ho. Harke, harke.
Ju. Is he among these?
Ho. I: but peace, let's heare' m. 40
Song. Who is Silvia} what is she}
That all our Swaines commend her}
Holy, /aire, and wise is she.
The heaven such grace did lend her,
that she might admired be.
Is she kinde as she is /aire}
For beauty lives with kindnesse:
Love doth to her eyes repaire.
To helpe him of his blindnessex
And being help"* d, inhabits there. 50
Then to Silvia, let us sing.
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortall thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling.
To her let us Garlands bring.
Ho. How now? are you sadder then you were before;
How doe you, man? the Musicke likes you not.
Ju. You mistake: the Musitian likes me not.
57
IV. ii. 58-87] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Ho. Why, my pretty youth?
Ju. He plaies false (father.) 60
Ho. How, out of tune on the strings.
Ju. Not so: but yet
So false that he grieves my very heart-strings.
Ho. You have a quicke eare.
Ju. I, I v^^ould I were deafe; it makes me have a slovt
heart. |
Ho. I perceive you delight not in Musique.
Ju. Not a whit, when it jars so.
Ho. Harke, what fine change is in the Musique.
Ju. I: that change is the spight. 69
Ho. You would have them alwaies play but one thing.
Ju. I would alwaies have one play but one thing.
But Host, doth this Sir Protheusy that we talke on.
Often resort unto this Gentlewoman?
Ho. I tell you what Launce his man told me.
He lov'd her out of all nicke.i "^ tally
Ju. Where is Launce}
Ho. Gone to seeke his dog, which to morrow, by his
Masters command, hee must carry for a present to his
Lady.
Ju. Peace, stand aside, the company parts. 80
Pro. Sir ThuriOy feare not you, I will so pleade.
That you shall say, my cunning drift excels.
Th. Where meete wer*
Pro. At Saint Gregories well.
Th. Farewell.
[Exeunt Thu. and Musicians. Enter Silvia above. '\
Pro. Madam; good ev'n to your Ladiship.
Sil. I thanke you for your Musique (Gentlemen)
Who is that that spake/'
58
OF VERONA [IV. ii. 88-119
Pro. One (Lady) if you knew his pure hearts truth.
You would quickly learne to know him by his voice. 90
SiL Sir Protheus, as I take it.
Pro, Sir Protheus (gentle Lady) and your Servant.
SiL What's your will?
Pro. That I may compasse yours.
SiL You have your wish; my will is even this.
That presently you hie you home to bed.*
Thou subtile, perjur'd, false, disloyall man:
Think' st thou I am so shallow, so conceitlesse.
To be seduced by thy flattery.
That has't deceiv'd so many with thy vowesr* 1 00
Returne, returne and make thy love amends:
For me (by this pale queene of night I sweare)
I am so farre from granting thy request.
That I despise thee, for thy wrongfull suite;
And by and by intend to chide my selfe.
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Pro, I grant (sweet love) that I did love a Lady,
But she is dead.
Ju. \Aside\ 'Twere false, if I should speake it;
For I am sure she is* not buried. no
SiL Say that she be: yet Valentine thy friend
Survives; to whom (thy selfe art witnesse)
I am betroth' d; and art thou not asham'd
To wrong him, with thy importunacy?
Pro, I likewise heare that Valentine is dead.
SiL And so suppose am I; for in her grave
Assure thy selfe, my love is buried.
Pro, Sweet Lady, let me rake it from the earth.
SiL Goe to thy Ladies grave and call hers thence.
Or at the least, in hers, sepulcher thine. 120
Jul. \Aside'\ He heard not that.
116. her: his-2-4F.
59
IV. ii. i2o-iii. 2] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Pro. Madam: if your heart be so obdurate:
Vouchsafe me yet your Picture for my love.
The Picture that is hanging in your chamber:
To that ile speake, to that ile sigh and weepe :
For since the substance of your perfect selfe
Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
And to your shadow, will I make true love.
yul. \_Aside~\ If *twere a substance you would sure
deceive it, |
And make it but a shadow, as I am. 130
Sil. I am very loath to be your Idoll Sir;
But, since your falsehood shall become you well
To worship shadowes, and adore false shapes.
Send to me in the morning, and ile send it:
And so, good rest.
Pro. As wretches have ore-night
That wait for execution in the morne.
\^Exeunt Pro. and Sil. severally."^
Jul. Host, will you goe?
Ho. By my halHdome, I was fast asleepe.
Jul. Pray you, where lies Sir Protheus? 140
Ho. Marry, at my house:
Trust me, I thinke *tis almost day.
Jul. Not so: but it hath bin the longest night
That ere I watchM, and the most heaviest. \Exeunt.'\
Scoena Tertia.
[The same."]
Enter Eglamore, Silvia.
Eg. This is the houre that Madam Silvia
Entreated me to call, and know her minde:
60
OF VERONA [IV. iii. 3.30
Ther's some great matter she* Id employ me in.
Madam, Madam.
[^Enter Silvia above,'^
Si/. Who cals?
Eg. Your servant, and your friend;
One that attends your Ladiships command.
5/7. Sir Eg /a more, a thousand times good morrow.
Eg. As many (worthy Lady) to your selfe: 1 1
According to your Ladiships impose,
I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.
Si/. Oh Eg/amour e, thou art a Gentleman:
Thinke not I flatter (for I sweare I doe not)
Valiant, wise, remorse-full, well accomplished.
Thou art not ignorant what deere good will
I beare unto the banish' d Fa/entine:
Nor how my father would enforce me marry 20
Vaine Thurio (whom my very soule abhor *d.)
Thy selfe hast lovM, and I have heard thee say
No griefe did ever .come so neere thy heart.
As when thy Lady, and thy true-love dide.
Upon whose Grave thou vow'dst pure chastitie;
Sir Eglamoure: I would to Va/entine
To Mantua, where I heare, he makes aboad;
And for the waies are dangerous to passe,
I doe desire thy wor'hy company.
Upon whose faith and honor, I repose. 30
Urge not my fathers anger (^Eg/amour e)
But thinke upon my griefe (a Ladies griefe)
And on thq, justice of my flying hence.
To keepe me from a most unholy match,
II. abhor' d: abhors-HANMER.
61
IV. iii. 3i-iv.io] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
I doe desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrowes, as the Sea of sands.
To beare me company, and goe with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee.
That I may venture to depart alone. 40
Egl. Madam, I pitty much your grievances.
Which, since I know they vertuously are plac'd,
I give consent to goe along with you.
Wreaking as little what betideth me.
As much, I wish all good befortune you.
When will you goe?
Sil. This evening comming.
Eg, Where shall I meete you?
SiL At Frier Patrickes Cell,
Where I intend holy Confession. 50
Eg. I will not faile your Ladiship:
Good morrow (gentle Lady.)
Sil. Good morrow, kinde Sir Eglamoure. Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
[The same.']
Enter Launce, Protheusy Julia^ Silvia.
Lau. When a mans servant shall play the Curre with
him (looke you) it goes hard; one that I brought up of
a puppy: one that I sav'd from drowning, when three or
foure of his blinde brothers and sisters went to it: I have
taught him (even as one would say precisely, thus I
would teach a dog) I was sent to deliver him, as a pre-
sent to Mistris Silvia, from my Master; and I came no
sooner into the dyning-chamber, but he steps me to her
44. fVreaking: Recking-Popx.
62
OF VERONA [IV. iv. 10-46
Trencher, and steales her Capons-leg: O, 'tis a foule
thing, when a Cur cannot keepe himselfe in all compa-
nies: I would have (as one should say) one that takes up-
on him to be a dog indeede, to be, as it were, a dog at all
things. If I had not had more wit then he, to take a fault
upon me that he did, I thinke verily hee had bin hang'd
for't: sure as I live he had suffered for't: you shall judge:
Hee thrusts me himselfe into the company of three or
foure gentleman-like-dogs, under the Dukes table: hee
had not bin there (blesse the marke) a pissing while, but
all the chamber smelt him: out with the dog (sales one)
what cur is that (sales another) whip him out (sales the
third) hang him up (sales the Duke. ) I having bin ac-
quainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and
goes me to the fellow that whips the dogges; friend
(quoth I) you meane to whip the dog.* I marry doe I
(quoth he) you doe him the more wrong (quoth I^ 'twas
I did the thing you wot of: he makes me no more adoe,
but whips me out of the chamber.- how many Masters
would doe this for his Servant? nay, ile be sworne I have
sat in the stockes, for puddings he hath stolne, otherwise
he had bin executed: I have stood on the Pillorie for
Geese he hath kil'd, otherwise he had sufFerd for' t : thou
think'stnot of this now: nay, I remember the tricke you
serv'd me, when I tooke my leave of Madam Silvia: did
not I bid thee still marke me, and doe as I do ; when did' st
thou see me heave up my leg, and make water against a
Gentlewomans farthingale? did'st thou ever see me doe
8uch a tricke?
[Enter Proteus and Julia."]
Pro. Sebastian is thy name: I like thee well, 40
And will imploy thee in some service presently.
Ju. In what y.ou please, ile doe what I can.
63
IV. iv. 47-78] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Pro. I hope thou wilt.
\To Launce\ How now you whor-son pezant.
Where have you bin these two dayes loytering?
La, Marry Sir, I carried Mistris Silvia the dogge you
bad me.
Pro, And what saies she to my little Jewell?
La, Marry she saies your dog was a cur, and tels you
currish thanks is good enough for such a present. 50
Pro. But she receiv'd my dog?
La. No indeede did she not:
Here have I brought him backe againe.
Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me.^
La. I Sir, the other Squirrill was stolne from me
By the Hangmans boyes in the market place.
And then I offer' d her mine owne, who is a dog
As big as ten of yours, & therefore the guift the greater.
Pro. Goe, get thee hence, and finde my dog againe.
Or nere returne againe into my sight. 60
Away, I say: stayest thou to vexe me here;
\Exit Launce.'\
A Slave, that still an end,l turnes me to shame:
Sebastiatiy I have entertained thee, l endlessly
Partly that I have neede of such a youth.
That can with some discretion doe my businesse;
For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish Lowt;
But chiefely, for thy face, and thy behaviour.
Which (if my Augury deceive me not)
Witnesse good bringing up, fortune, and truth:
Therefore know thee, for this I entertaine thee. 70
Go presently, and take this Ring with thee.
Deliver it to Madam Silvia^
She lov'd me well, delivered it to me.
56. Hangmans: hangman-SiNGER. 70. tbee: thou-2-4F.
64
OF VERONA [IV. iv. 79-108
Jul. It seemes you lov'd not her, not leave her token:
She is dead beliker'
Pro. Not so: I thinke she lives.
Jul. Alas.
Pro. Why do'st thou cry alas?
Jul. I cannot choose but pitty her.
Pro. Wherefore should' St thou pitty her? 80
Jul. Because, me thinkes that she lov' d you as well
As you doe love your Lady Silvia:
She dreames on him, that has forgot her love.
You doate on her, that cares not for your love.
'Tis pitty Love, should be so contrary;
And thinking on it, makes me cry alas.
Pro. Well: give her that Ring, and there withall
This Letter: that's her chamber; Tell my Lady,
I claime the promise for her heavenly Picture:
Your message done, hye home unto my chamber, 90'
Where thou shalt finde me sady and solitarie. [^a://.]
Jul. How many women would doe such a message?
Alas poore Protheus, thou hast entertain' d
A Foxe, to be the Shepheard of thy Lambs;
Alas, poore foole, why doe I pitty him
That with his very heart despiseth me/'
Because he loves her, he despiseth me.
Because I love him, I must pitty him.
This Ring I gave him, when he parted from me.
To binde him to remember my good will; 100
And now am I (unhappy Messenger)
To plead for that, which I would not obtaine;
To carry that, which I would have refiis'd;
To praise his faith, which I would have disprais'd.
I am my Masters true confirmed Love,
74. notlea've: to leave-2-4F. 78-9. fVby .. choose: I 1.-Hanmer.
79-80. but pitty .. pitty her: i 1.-Hanmkr.
i. 14 65
IV. iv. 109-138] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
But cannot be true servant to my Master,
Unlesse I prove false traitor to my selfe.
Yet will I woe for him, but yet so coldly.
As (heaven it knowes) I would not have him speed.
[^Enfer Silvia attended."]
Gentlewoman, good day: I pray you be my meane
To bring me where to speake with Madam Silvia.
Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?
Jul. If you be she, I doe intreat your patience 1 1 3
To heare me speake the message I am sent on.
Sil. From whom?
Jul. From my Master, Sir Protheusy Madam.
Sil. Oh: he sends you for a Picture?
Jul. I, Madam.
Sil. Ursula, bring my Picture there,
Goe, give your Master this; tell him from me, 120
One Juliay that his changing thoughts forget
Would better fit his Chamber, then this Shadow.
Jul. Madam, please you peruse this Letter;
Pardon me (Madam) I have unadvised
Deliver' d you a paper that I should not;
This is the Letter to your Ladiship.
Sil. I pray thee let me looke on that againe.
Jul. It may not be: good Madam pardon me.
Sil. There, hold:
I will not looke upon your Masters lines: 130
I know they are stuft with protestations.
And full of new-found oathes, which he will breake
As easily as I doe teare his paper.
Jul. Madam, he sends your Ladiship this Ring.
Sil. The more shame for him, that he sends it me;
108. ivoe: woo (wooe)-a-4F.
66
OF VERONA [IV. iv. 139-172
For I have heard him say a thousand times.
His Julia gave it him, at his departure;
Though his false finger have prophan'd the Ring,
Mine shall not doe his Julia so much wrong.
Jul. She thankes you. 140
Sil. What sai*st thou?
Jul. I thanke you Madam, that you tender^ her:
Poore Gentlewoman, my Master wrongs her much.
Sil. Do'st thou know her? ^consider
Jul. Almost as well as I doe know my selfe.
To thinke upon her woes, I doe protest
That I have wept a hundred severall times.
Sil. Belike she thinks that Protheus hath forsook her/*
Jul. I thinke she doth : and that' s her cause of sorrow.
Sil. Is she not passing faire? 1 50
Jul. She hath bin fairer (Madam) then she is.
When she did thinke my Master lovM her well;
She, in my judgement, was as faire as you.
But since she did neglect her looking-glasse.
And threw her Sun-expelling Masque away.
The ayre hath starv'd the roses in her cheekes.
And pinched the lilly-tincture of her face.
That now she is become as blacke as I.
Sil. How tall was she/*
Jul. About my stature: for sit Pentecost, 160
When all our Pageants of delight were plaid.
Our youth got me to play the womans part.
And I was trimM in Madam Julias gowne.
Which served me as fit, by all mens judgements.
As if the garment had bin made for me.-
Therefore I know she is about my height.
And at that time I made her weepe a good,2 2 f„ earnest
For I did play a lamentable part.
(Madam) 'twas Ariadne y passioning
fV. iv. 173-204] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
For Thesus perjury, and unjust flight; 170
Which I so lively acted with my teares:
That my poore Mistris moved therewithal!.
Wept bitterly: and would I might be dead.
If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.
8iL She is beholding to thee (gentle youth)
Alas (poore Lady) desolate, and left;
I weepe my selfe to thinke upon thy words:
Here youth: there is my purse; I give thee this
For thy sweet Mistris sake, because thou lov* st her. Fare-
well. I \Exit Silvia y with attendants. "^
Jul. And she shall thanke you for't, if ere you know
her. I 180
A vertuous gentlewoman, milde, and beautifull.
I hope my Masters suit will be but cold.
Since she respects my Mistris love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with it selfe;
Here is her Picture; let me see, I thinke
If I had such a Tyre,i this face of mine '^head-dress
Were full as lovely, as is this of hers;
And yet the Painter flatter' d her a little,
Unlesse I flatter with my selfe too much.
Her haire is Jburne, mine is perfect Tellozv; 190
If that be all the difference in his love.
He get me such a coulour'd Perry wig;
Her eyes are grey as glasse, and so are mine:
I, but her fore -head's low, and mine's as high;
What should it be that he respects in her.
But I can make respective in my selfe?
If this fond Love, were not a blinded god.
Come shadow, come, and take this shadow up.
For 'tis thy rivall: O thou sencelesse forme.
Thou shalt be worship' d, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd;
179. Farewell: i I.-2-4F.
6S
OF VERONA [IV. iv. 205-V. ii. 2
And were there sence in his Idolatry, 201
My substance should be statue^ in thy stead. ^ image
He use thee kindly, for thy Mistris sake
That us'd me so: or else by Jove, I vow,
I should have scratch' d out your unseeing eyes.
To make my Master out of love vi^ith thee. Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Sccena Prima.
[Milan. An abbey. '\
Enter Eglamoure, Silvia.
Egl. The Sun begins to guild the westerne skie.
And now it is about the very houre
That Silvia, at Fryer Patricks Cell should meet me.
She will not faile; for Lovers breake not houres,
Unlesse it be to come before their time.
So much they spur their expedition.
See where she comes; Lady a happy evening.
[Enter Silvia."^
Sil. Amen, Amen; goe on (good Eglamoure^ 10
Out at the Posterne by the Abbey wall;
I feare I am attended by some Spies.
Egl. Feare not: the Forrest is not three leagues off.
If we recover that, we are sure enough. Exeunt.
Sccena Secunda.
[The same. The Duke's palace."]
Enter Thurio, Protheusy Julia, Duke.
Th. Sir Protheus, what sales Silvia to my suit?
Pro. Oh Sir, I finde her milder then she was.
V. ii. 3-30] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
Thu. What? that my leg is too long?
Pro. No, that it is too little.
Thu. He weare a Boote, to make it somewhat roun-
der. I
Pro. [Jul aside] But love will not be spurd to
what it loathes. |
Thu. What sales she to my face? 10
Pro. She sales it is a faire one.
Thu. Nay then the wanton lyes: my face is blacke.
Pro. But Pearles are faire; and the old saying is,
Blacke men are Pearles, in beauteous Ladies eyes.
Thu. [Jul. aside\ 'Tis true, such Pearles as put
out Ladies eyes, |
For I had rather winke, then looke on them.
Thu. How likes she my discourse/'
Pro. Ill, when you talke of war.
Thu. But well, when I discourse of love and peace.
Jul. [Asidi\ But better indeede, when you hold
you peace. | 20
Thu. What sayes she to my valour?
Pro. Oh Sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Jul. [Aside] She needes not, when she knowes it
cowardize. |
Thu. What sales she to my birth?
Pro. That you are well deriv'd.
Jul. [Aside'] True: from a Gentleman, to a foole.
Thu. Considers she my Possessions?
Pro. Oh, I: and pitties them.
Thu. Wherefore.?
Jul. [Aside] That such an Asse should owe^ them.
Pro. That they are out by Lease. ^ own 3 i
Jul. Here comes the Duke.
ao. you: your-3-4F.
70
OF VERONA [V. ii. 31-56
[Enter Duke.']
Du. How now sir Protheus; how now Thurio}
Which of you saw Eglamoure of late?
Thu. Not I.
Pro. Nor I.
Du. Saw you my daughter.?
Pro. Neither.
Du. Why then
She's fled unto that pezant, Valentine % 40
And Eglamoure is in her Company:
*Tis true: for Frier Laurence met them both
As he, in pennance wander* d through the Forrest:
Him he knew well; and guesd that it was she.
But being mask'd, he was not sure of it.
Besides she did intend Confession
At Patricks Cell this even, and there she was not.
These likelihoods confirme her flight from hence;
Therefore I pray you stand, not to discourse.
But mount you presently, and meete with me 50
Upon the rising of the Mountaine foote
That leads toward Mantua, whether they are fled:
Dispatch (sweet Gentlemen) and follow me.
Thu. Why this it is, to be a peevish Girle,
That flies her fortune when it followes her:
He after; more to be reveng'd on Eglamoure ,
Then for the love of reck-lesse Silvia.
Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvas love
Then hate of Eglamoure that goes with her. 59
"Jul. And I will follow, more to crosse that love
Then hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. Exeunt.
34. saw Eglamoure: saw Sir Eglamour-3-4F.
7»
V. iii. i-iv. 5] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Scena Tertia.
[The frontiers of Mantua. The forest."^
Silvia, Out-lawes.
I. Out. Come, come be patient:
We must bring you to our Captaine.
Sil. A thousand more mischances then this one
Have learn' d me how to brooke this patiently.
2 Out. Come, bring her away.
I Out. Where is the Gentleman that was with her?
3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath out-run us.
But Moyses and Valerius follow him: lo
Goe thou with her to the West end of the wood.
There is our Captaine: Wee' 11 follow him that's fled.
The Thicket is beset, he cannot scape.
I Out. Come, I must bring you to our Captains cave.
Feare not: he beares an honourable minde.
And will not use a woman lawlesly.
Sil. O Valentine', this I endure for thee.
Exeunt.
Scosna Quarta.
[Another part of the forest."^
Enter Valentine , Protheusy Silvia y Julia y Dukey Thurio^
Out-lawes.
Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man?
This shadowy desart, unfrequented woods
1 better brooke then flourishing peopled Townes:
Here can I sit alone, un-seene of any.
And to the Nightingales complaining Notes
3-4. be ..Captaine: I I.-Pope.
7»
OF VERONA [V. iv. 6-33
Tune my distrestes, and record^ my woes. ^ sing
O thou that dost inhabit in my brest, lo
Leave not the Mansion so long Tenant-lesse,
Lest growing ruinous, the building fall.
And leave no memory of what it was,
Repaire me, with thy presence, Silvia-.
Thou gentle Nimph, cherish thy for-lorne swaine.
What hallowing, and what stir is this to day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their Law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chace;
They love me well: yet I have much to doe
To keepe them from uncivill outrages. 20
Withdraw thee Valentine', who's this comes heere?
\_Enter Proteus, Silvia, and Julia^
Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you
(Though you respect not aught your servant doth^
To hazard life, and reskew you from him.
That would have fore' d your honour, and your love.
Vouchsafe me for my meed, but one faire looke :
(A smaller boone then this I cannot beg.
And lesse then this, I am sure you cannot give. )
Val. \Aside'\ How like a dreame is this? I see, and
heare: |
Love, lend me patience to forbeare a while. 30
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am.
Pro. Unhappy were you (Madam) ere I came:
But by my comming, I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.
Jul. ^Aside'^ And me, when he approcheth to your
presence. |
5/7. Had I beene ceazed by a hungry Lion,
9. diitrestes: di8tre8ses-2-4F.
73
V. iv. 34-63] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
I would have beene a break-fast to the Beast,
Rather then have false Protheus reskue me:
Oh heaven be judge how I love Valentine y
Whose life's as tender to me as my soule, 40
And full as much (iox more there cannot be)
I doe detest false peijur'd Protheus'.
Therefore be gone, sollicit me no more.
Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death
Would I not undergoe, for one calme looker
Oh 'tis the curse in Love, and still approv'd
When women cannot love, where they're belov*d.
SiL When Protheus cannot love, where he's belov'd:
Read over Julia" s heart, (thy first best Love)
For whose deare sake, thou didst then rend thy faith 50
Into a thousand oathes; and all those oathes.
Descended into perjury, to love me.
Thou hast no faith left now, unlesse thou'dst two.
And that's farre worse then none: better have none
Then plurall faith, which is too much by one:
Thou Counterfeyt, to thy true friend.
Pro. In Love,
Who respects friend?
Sil. All men but Protheus.
Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words 60
Can no way change you to a milder forme;
He wooe you like a Souldier, at armes end.
And love you 'gainst the nature of Love: force ye.
Sil. Oh heaven.
Pro. He force thee yeeld to my desire.
Val. Ruffian: let goe that rude uncivill touch.
Thou friend of an ill fashion.
Pro. Valentine.
Val. Thou common friend, that' s without faith or love.
For such is a friend now: treacherous man, 70
74
OF VERONA [V. iv. 64-95
Thou hast beguilM my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have perswaded me: now I dare not say
I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me:
Who should be trusted, when ones right hand
Is perjured to the bosome? Protheus
I am sorry I must never trust thee more.
But count the world a stranger for thy sake:
The private wound is deepest: oh time, most accurst:
'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst/*
Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me: 80
Forgive me Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient Ransome for offence,
I tender' t heere: I doe as truely suffer.
As ere I did commit.
Val. Then I am paid:
And once againe, I doe receive thee honest;
Who by Repentance is not satisfied.
Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas* d:
By Penitence th'Eternalls wrath's appeas'd:
And that my love may appeare plaine and free, 90
All that was mine, in Sihiay I give thee.
Jul, Oh me unhappy. [Swoons.^
Pro. Looke to the Boy.
Val. Why, Boy?
Why wag: how now? what's the matter? look up: speak.
Jul. O good sir, my master charg' d me to deliver a ring
to Madam Silvia: which (out of my neglect) was never
done. I
Pro. Where is that ring? boy?
Jul. Heere 'tis: this is it.
Pro. How? let me see. 1 00
Why this is the ring I gave to Julia.
Jul. Oh, cry you mercy sir, I have mistooke:
This is the ring you sent to Silvia.
75
I
V. iv. 96-124] THE TWO GENTLEMEN
Pro. But how cam' St thou by this ring? at my depart
I gave this unto Julia.
Jul. And Julia her selfe did give it me.
And Julia her selfe hath brought it hither.
Pro. How? Julia}
Jul. Behold her, that gave ayme to all thy oathes.
And entertained 'em deepely in her heart. no
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the roote?
Oh Protheusy let this habit make thee blush.
Be thou asham'd that I have tooke upon me.
Such an immodest rayment; if shame live
In a disguise of love?
It is the lesser blot modesty findes.
Women to change their shapes, then men their minds.
Pro. Then men their minds.^tis true: oh heven, were
man I
But Constant, he were perfect; that one error 1 19
Fils him with faults: makes him run through all th'sins;
Inconstancy falls-off, ere it begins:
What is in Silvia's face, but I may spie
More fresh in Julians, with a constant eye?
f^ai. Come, come: a hand from either:
Let me be blest to make this happy close:
'Twere pitty two such friends should be long foes.
Pro. Beare witnes (heaven) I have my wish for ever.
Jul. And I mine.
[Enter Outlaws with Duke ana Thurio.'\
Out- 1. A prize: a prize: a prize.
Fa I. For beare, forbeare I say : It is my Lord the Duke.
Your^Grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd, 131
Banished Valentine.
Duke. Sir Valentine}
76
OF VERONA [V. iv. 125-158
Thu, Yonder is Silvia: and Silvia's mine.
f^al. Thurio give backe;or else embrace thy death:
Come not within the measure^ of my wrath: ^ reach
Doe not name Silvia thine: if once againe,
Verona shall not hold thee: heere she stands.
Take but possession of her, with a Touch:
I dare thee, but to breath upon my Love. 140
Thur. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I:
I hold him but a foole that will endanger
His Body, for a Girle that loves him not:
I claime her not, and therefore she is thine.
Duke, The more degenerate and base art thou
To make such meanest for her, as thou hast done.
And leave her on such slight conditions. 2 efforts
Now, by the honor of my Ancestry,
I doe applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
And thinke thee worthy of an Empresse love: 150
Know then, I heere forget all former greefes,
Cancell all grudge, repeale thee home againe.
Plead a new state in thy un-rival*d merit.
To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine,
Thou art a Gentleman, and well deriv'd.
Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.
VaL I thank your Grace, the gift hath made me happy:
I now beseech you (for your daughters sake)
To grant one Boone that I shall aske of you. i 59
Duke, I grant it (for thine owne) what ere it be.
Val. These banish' d men, that I have kept withall.
Are men endu'd with worthy qualities:
Forgive them what they have committed here.
And let them be recall' d from their Exile;
They are reformed, civill, flill of good.
And fit for great employment (worthy Lord.)
Duke, Thou hast prevaild, I pardon them and thee:
77
V. iv. 159-173] GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Dispose of them, as thou knowst their deserts.
Come, let us goe, we will include all jarres.
With Triumphes, Mirth, and rare solemnity. 170
Fal. And as we walke along, I dare be bold
With our discourse, to make your Grace to smile.
What thinke you of this Page (my Lord/*)
Duke. I think the Boy hath grace in him, he blushes.
Fal. I warrant you (my Lord) more grace, then Boy.
Duke. What meane you by that saying?
Fal. Please you. He tell you, as we passe along.
That you will wonder what hath fortuned:
Come Protbeus, 'tis your pennance, but to heare
The story of your Loves discovered. 180
That done, our day of marriage shall be yours.
One Feast, one house, one mutuall happinesse. Exeunt.
The names of all the Actors.
Duke: Father to Silvia.
P^ ^th \ ^^^ ^^^ Gentlemen.
Anthonio: father to Protheus.
Thurio: a foolish rivall to Valentine.
Eglamoure: Agent for Silvia in her escape.
Host: where Julia lodges.
Out-lawes with Valentine.
Speed: a clownish servant to Valentine.
Launce: the like to Protheus.
Panthion: servant to Antonio.
Julia: beloved of Protheus.
Silvia: beloved of Valentine.
Lucetta: waighting-woman to Julia.
FINIS.
78
THE MERRY WIVES OF
WINDSOR
First printed in Quartos, 1602, 16 19
The First Folio, 1623, gives a better and fuller
text, supplying acts and scenes
missing in the Quartos
Mcny Wives A
INTRODUCTION
Argument of the Play
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR* is a
broad comedy of contrivance and characterization.
Mistress Ford and Mistress Page, two worthy ma-
trons of Windsor, are simultaneously besieged by the
former companion of Prince Hal (now Henry IV), Sir
John FalstafF.
He writes each a love-letter (Act II), which they
compare and find similar in tenor. They thereupon
plot to make sport of the doughty knight as well as
bring him to shame. Mistress Ford makes an ap-
pointment with him, which appointment is also heard
of by her husband, who does not know it to be a jest.
In Act III the two women plan to have a basket
of soiled linen in readiness to hide FalstafF, under the
pretense that Ford is at hand. The knight keeps his
appointment, and the jest turns to earnest when the sus-
picious husband really arrives. FalstafF is carried out
safely in the basket and dumped into the river. Shortly
afterward, he receives invitation for a second interview
with Mistress Ford.
This he follows up also, in Act IV, and again is
surprised by Ford. The basket is sent down as be-
fore; and while Ford is going through it, FalstafF
escapes disguised as a woman. Ford and Page are
then told the secret of the pranks played upon Fal-
Merry Wives C i. ic
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
staff, and a final one is prepared, with their approval,
for a night in Windsor Park.
In Act V Falstaff is sent to the park disguised under
a buck's head, where he is set upon by pretended fairies
and burned with tapers. The two * merry wives ' and
their husbands then reveal themselves to their victim,
upbraid him for his amorous schemes, and pardon him.
A secondary episode of the play likewise culminates
here. Anne Page, daughter of Mr. and Mistress
Page, has had four suitors, of whom her father has
favoured one, her mother another, and herself a third.
Anne utilizes this night masquerade, despite counter-
schemes, to marry the man of her choice.
Sources
The plot is Shakespeare's own, although it contains
situations which were current in other stories of the
time. Two Italian stories have come to light, in * II
Tredeci Piacevoli Notti ' of Strapola, which resemble
* Merry Wives ' only in the baffling of suspicious hus-
bands. A similar incident is recorded in the tale of
* Two Lovers of Pisa,' in Tarlton's * Newes out of
Purgatorie ' (1590), which was probably founded on
the Italian tales, and which resembles * Merry Wives *
even more nearly in containing three fruitless appoint-
ments made by a lover who comes to grief through
unwittingly telling the husband of his plan. But even
though Shakespeare may have been indebted for his
leading chain of episodes to this or other stories, the
machinery of his plot, the development of character,
and the interweaving of the love-affairs of Anne Page
with the main story are certainly his own.
The play is a comedy of contemporary society,
written, according to generally accepted tradition, upon
Merry Wives D
INTRODUCTION
the com-mand of Queen Elizabeth, who ' was so well
pleased with that admirable character of Falstaff, in the
two parts of ** Henry IV,** that she commanded him
[Shakespeare] to continue it for one play more, and
to show him in love.' A further account states that
the playwright was obliged to complete his play in' a
fortnight. It shows evidence of having been written
in haste, while the title-page of the 1602 edition (see
Early Editions) lends weight to the statement that
it was a special product for the queen.
Duration of the Action
Various Shakespearian editors have devoted many pages
to solving the time element in this play, where a con-
fusion of mornings and evenings may be traced to two
causes: (i) the haste of its first production, and (2)
its compression for stage purposes. The three inter-
views of Falstaff with Mistress Ford do not read chro-
nologically, and are further confused by the interjec-
tion of scenes relating to Anne Page's suitors. It
seems evident, without attempt at analysis here, that
the action is limite'd to four days; and by changing
three clashing references it can be reduced to three,
which was probably the dramatist's intention.
The period of action follows the career of Falstaff
after he has parted company with Henry IV, and be-
longs to the early years of that monarch's reign. Its
context and local colouring, however, make it coinci-
dent with Elizabeth's time.
Date of Composition
The date of * Merry Wives of Windsor * readily falls
between 1598 and 1602. The latter date is fixed by
the appearance of the play in an imperfect Quarto edi-
Merry Wives E
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
tion. The former date is indicated by the facts (i)
that Meres does not mention it in his * Palladis Tamia*
of the same year — an omission which would hardly
have occurred if the play had been known; and (2)
* Merry Wives ' follows the two parts of * Henry IV,'
which were produced about 1597. In the epilogue
to the second part of ' Henry IV' the promise was
made that Falstaffshould appear in * Henry V ' ( i 599).
It is plausible, therefore, that Shakespeare wrote * Merry
Wives' to please the queen in the latter part of 1598,
and that, having done so, he lost interest in FalstafF,
and contented himself with narrating his death in
'Henry V.'
* Merry Wives ' was probably written and produced
in 1598. A garbled copy taken from notes was
printed in the Quarto of 1602. And the play was
evidently revised and improved in 1603, when James
I succeeded Elizabeth on the throne; for the later or
Folio text refers to the ' king ' where the Quarto
refers to the 'council,' and the Folio alone has a fine
passage in the fairy scene alluding to Windsor and the
Order of the Garter, which seems to bear special refer-
ence to the sitting of the court at Windsor in 1603,
when Shakespeare's friend Southampton, as well as
Prince Arthur, was made Knight of the Garter.
Another bit of internal evidence bears on the tradi-
tional enemy of Shakespeare, Sir Thomas Lucy. It is
said that the poet caricatured him in Justice Shallow.
Lucy died in 1600, and the revised text pubHshed
after his death introduces a close allusion to him in
the opening scene. A coat of arms bearing a ' dozen
white luces ' (or fish) is spoken of as belonging to
the justice's family, whereas Lucy's own coat bore
three luces.
Meny Wives F
INTRODUCTION
Early Editions
The first printing of * Merry Wives of Windsor * was
made in a Quarto edition of 1602, which bore the
following title-page:
< A most pleasaunt and excellent conceited Comedie,
of Syr John Falstaffe, and the merrie Wivves of Wind-
sor. Entermixed with sundrie variable and pleasing
humors, of Syr Hugh, the Welch Knight, Justice
Shallow, and his wise Cousin, M. Slender. With
the swaggering vaine of Auncient Pistoll, and Corporal
Nym. By William Shakespeare. As it hath bene
divers times acted by the right Honorable my lord
Chamberlaines servants. Both before her Majestic,
and else-where. London Printed by T. C. for Arthur
Johnson, and are to be sold at his shop in Powles
Church-yard, at the signe of the Flower de Leuse and
the Crowne. 1602.'
This Quarto was reprinted by the same bookseller
in 1619.
The First Folip version of the play (1623) places
it third in the book, under the division of comedies.
Here it is more than double the length of the previous
Quarto versions, and supplies the acts and scenes, but
does not append the names of the characters, as is the
case with the two preceding plays.
The Quartos are so brief and imperfect as to lead to
the belief that they are pirated versions taken from
shorthand notes at a performance, or from an actor*s
manual. The trustworthy text is that of the First
Folio, which is fairly correct, the Quartos giving little
aid in supplying emendations.
Merry Wives G
THE MERRY WIVES OF
WINDSOR
[DRAMATIS PERSONiE
Sir John Falstaff.
Fenton, a gentleman.
Shallow, a country justice.
Slender, cousin to Shallow.
p ' V two gentlemen dwelling at Windsor.
William Page, a boyy son to Page.
Sir Hugh Evans, a Welsh parson.
Doctor Caius, a French physician.
Host of the Garter Inn.
Bardolph, \
Pistol, v sharpers attending on Falstaff.
Nym, )
Robin, page to Falstaff.
Simple, servant to Slender.
Rugby, servant to Doctor Caius,
Mistress Ford.
Mistress Page.
Anne Page, her daughter.
Mistress Quickly, servant to Doctor Caius.
Servants to Page, Ford, &c.
Scene: Windsor , and the neighbourhood.'].
THE MERRY WIVES OF
WINDSOR
Actus primus, Scena prima.
[Windsor. Before Pagers house. ]
Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, Sir Hugh Evans, Master
Page, FalstofFe, Bardolph, Nym, Pistoll, Anne Page,
Mistresse Ford, Mistresse Page, Simple.
Shallow.
SIR Hugh, perswade me not: I will make a Star-
Chamber matter of it, if hee were twenty Sir
John Pais toffs y he* shall not abuse Robert Shallow
Esquire.
Slen. In the County of Glocester, Justice of Peace and
Coram. | lo
Shal. I,(Cosen Slender) and Cust-alorum.
Slen. I, and Rato lorum too; and a Gentleman borne
(Master Parson) who»writes himselfe Armigero, in any
Bill, Warrant, Quittance, or ObHgation, Armigero.
Shal. I that I doe, and have done any time these three
hundred yeeres.
Slen. All his successors (gone before him) hath don*t:
and all his Ancestors (that come after him) may: they
may give the dozen white Luces in their Coate.
I. i. 18-53] * THE MERRY WIVES
SbaL It is an olde Coate. 20
Evans. The dozen white Lowses doe become an old
Coat well: it agrees well passant: It is a familiar beast to
man, and signifies Love.
SbaL The Luse is the fresh-fish, the salt-fish, is an old
Coate.
Slen. I may quarter (Coz).
Shal. You may, by marrying.
Evans. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.
Shal. Not a whit. 29
Evan. Yes per-lady : if he ha's a quarter of your coat,
there is but three Skirts for your selfe, in my simple con-
jectures; but that is all one: if Sir John Falstaffe have
committed disparagements unto you, I am of the Church
and will be glad to do my benevolence, to make attone-
ments and compremises betweene you.
Shal. The Councell shall heare it, it is a Riot.
Evan. It is not meet the Councell heare a Riot: there
is no feare of Got in a Riot: The Councell (looke you)
shall desire to heare the feare of Got, and not to heare a
Riot: take your viza-ments in that. 40
Shal. Ha; o'my life, if I were yong againe, the sword
should end it.
Evans. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end
it: and there is also another device in my praine, which
perad venture prings goot discretions with it. There is
Anne Page, which is daughter to Master Thomas Page,
which is pretty virginity.
Slen. Mistris Anne Page? she has browne haire, and
speakes small like a woman. 49
Evans. It is that ferry person for all the orld, as just as
you will desire, and seven hundred pounds of Moneyes,
and Gold, and Silver, is her Grand-sire upon his deaths-
30. per-lady: py'r lady-CAPELL.
OF WINDSOR [I. i. 53-87
bed, fGot deliver to a joyflill resurrections) give, when
she is able to overtake seventeene yeeres old. It were a
goot motion, if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and
desire a marriage betweene Master Abraham^ and Mistris
Anne Page.
Sien. Did her Grand-sire leave her seaven hundred
pound? 59
Evan. I, and her father is make her a petter penny.
Sien. I know the young Gentlewoman, she has good
gifts.
Evan. Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is
goot gifts.
Shai. Wei, let us see honest M' Page', is Falstaffe
there? |
Evan. Shall I tell you a lye? I doe despise a Iyer, as I
doe despise one that is false, or as I despise one that is not
true: the Knight Sir John is there, and I beseech you be
ruled by your well-willers : I will peat the doore for M'.
Page. What hoa? Got-plesse your house heere. 70
M\Page. \Within\ Who's there?
[Enter Page.'\
Evan. Here is go't's plessing and your friend, and Ju-
stice Shallow^ and heere yong Master Slender', that perad-
ventures shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to
your likings.
M^.Page. I am glad to see your Worships well: I
thanke you for my Venison Master Shallow.
Shal. Master Page, I am glad to see you : much good
doe it your good heart: I wishM your Venison better, it
was ill killd: how doth good Mistresse Page? and I thank
you alwaies with my heart, la: with my heart. 81
M.Page. Sir, I thanke you.
I. i. 88-120] THE MERRY WIVES
Shal. Sir, I thanke you: by yea, and no I doe.
M. Pa. I am glad to see you, good Master Blender.
Slen. How do' s your fallow^ Greyhound, Sir, I heard
say he was out-run on CotsalL ^fawn-colored
M.Pa. It could not be judg'd. Sir.
Slen. You* 11 not confesse: you'll not confesse.
Shal. That he will not, 'tis your fault, 'tis your fauh:
'tis a good dogge. 90
M.Pa. A Cur, Sir.
Shal. Sir: hee's a good dog, and a faire dog, can there
be more said? he is good, and faire. Is Sir John Falstaffe
heere?
M. Pa. Sir, hee is within: and I would I could doe a
good office be tweene you.
Evan. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speake.
Shal. He hath wrong' d me (Master Page.)
M. Pa. Sir, he doth in some sort confesse it. 99
Shal. If it be confessed, it is not redressed; is not that
so (M. Page}) he hath wrong' d me, indeed he hath, at a
word he hath: beleeveme, Robert Shallow Esquire, saith
he is wronged.
Ma. Pa. Here comes Sir John.
[Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol.']
Fa I. Now, Master Shallow, you'llcomplaineofmeto
the King?
Shal. Knight, you have beaten my men, kill'd my
deere, and broke open my Lodge.
Fa I. But not kiss'd your Keepers daughter?
Shal. Tut, a pin: this shall be answer' d. no
Fal. I will answere it strait, I have done all this:
That is now answer' d.
Shal. The Councell shall know this.
1 1 3-1 5. Councell .. councell: council .. counsel— 3F.
6
OF WINDSOR [I. i. 121-161
Fal. ' Twere better for you if it were known in coun-
cell: you'll be laugh' d at.
Ev. Pane a verba; (Sir John) good worts.
Fal. Good worts? good Cabidge; Slender, I broke
your head: what matter have you against mer*
Slen. Marry sir, I have matter in my head against you,
and against your cony-catching Rascalls, Bardolf, Nym,
and Pis toll. 12 1
Bar. You Banbery Cheese.
Slen. I, it is no matter.
Pist. How now, Mephostophilus}
Slen. I, it is no matter.
A^'^.Slice, I s?iY'ypauca,pauca: Slice, that' amy humor.
Slen. Where's Simple my man? can you tell,Cosen?
Eva. Peace, I pray you; now let us understand: there
is three Umpires in this matter, as I understand; that is.
Master Page (fidelicet Master Page, ) & there is my selfe,
(fidelicet my selfe) and the three party is (lastly, and fi-
nally) mine Host of the Gater. 132
Ma. Pa. We three to hear it, & end it between them.
Evan. Ferry goo't, I wii5 make a priefe of it in my
note-booke, and we wil afterwards orke upon the cause,
with as great discreetly as we can.
Fal. Pistoll.
Pist. He heares with eares.
Evan. The Tevill and his Tarn; what phrase is this?
he heares with eare? why, it is affectations. 140
Fal. Pis tolly did you picke M. Slenders purse?
Slen. I, by these gloves did hee, or I would I might
never come m mine owne great chamber againe else, of
seaven groates in mill-sixpences, and two Edward Sho-
velboords,! that cost me two shilling and two pence a
peece of Tead Miller: by these gloves. ^ broad shillings
132. Gater: Garter-sg.
I. i. 162-196] THE MERRY WIVES
FaL Is this true, Pistolh
Evan. No, it is false, if it is a picke-purse.
Pist. Ha, thou mountaine Forreyner: Sir Johriy and
Master mine, I combat challenge of thisLatine Bilboe:'
word of deniall in thy labras^ here; word of denial; froth,
and scum thou liest. Hrass sword ^lips 1 5 2
Slen. By these gloves, then 'twas he.
Nym. Be avis' d sir, and passe good humours; I will
say marry trap with you, if you runne the nut-hooks hu-
mor on me, that is the very note of it.
Slen. By this hat, then he in the red face had it: for
though I cannot remember what I did when you made
me drunke, yet I am not altogether an asse.
Fai. What say you Scar let y and John} 160
Bar. Why sir, (for my part) I say the Gentleman had
drunke himselfe out of his five sentences.
Ev. It is his five sences: fie, what the ignorance is.
Bar. And being fap,^ sir, was (as they say) casheerd:
and I so conclusions past the Car-eires.*
^drunk ^race-limits
Slen. I, you spake in Latten then to: but 'tis no mat-
ter; He nere be drunk whilst I live againe, but in honest,
civill, godly company for this tricke: if I be drunke. He
be drunke with those that have the feare of God, and not
with drunken knaves. 170
Evan. So got-udge me, that is a vertuons minde.
Fal. You heare all these matters deni'd. Gentlemen;
you heare it.
\_Enter Anne Page, with wine; Mistress Ford and
Mistress Page, following.'^
M^.Page. Nay daughter, carry the wine in, wee' 11
drinke within. \^Exit Anne Page.'\
150. Latine: latten (laten)-iQ. 171. •vertuom: virtuous-2-4F.
8
OF WINDSOR [I. i. 197-233
Skn. Oh heaven: This is Mistresse Anne Page.
M'.Page. How now Mistris Ford}
Fai. Mistris Fordy by my troth you are very wel met:
by your leave good Mistris. \_Kisses her.~\ 179
M\Page. Wife, bid these gentlemen welcome: come,
we have a hot Venison pasty to dinner; Come gentle-
men, I hope we shall drinke downe all unkindnesse.
[Exeunt all except Shal.y Slen.y and Evans. '\
Slen. I had rather then forty shillings I had my booke
of Songs and Sonnets heere: [Enter Simple.'] How
now Simple, where | have you beene? I must wait on
my selfe, must I? you | have not the booke of Rid-
dles about you, have you.? |
Sim. Booke of Riddles? why did you not lend it to
Alice Short-cake upon Alhallowmas last, a fortnight a-
fore Michaelmas. 189
Shal. Come Coz, come C02, we stay for you: a word
with you Coz: marry this, Coz: there is as 'twere a ten-
der, a kinde of tender, made a farre-ofFby Sir Hugh here:
doe you understand me.?
Slen. I Sir, you shall finde me reasonable; if it be so,
I shall doe that that is reason.
Shal. Nay, but understand me.
Slen. So I doe Sir.
Evan. Give eare to his motions; (M'. Slender)! W\\\
description the matter to you, if you be capacity of it.
Slen. Nay, I will doe as my Cozen Shallow saies: I
pray you pardon me, he's a Justice of Peace in his Coun-
trie, simple though I stand here. 202
Evan. But that is not the question: the question is
concerning your marriage.
Shal. I, there's the point Sir.
Ev. Marry is it: the very point of it, to Mi. An Page.
Slen. Why if it be so; I will marry her upon any rea-
sonable demands.
I. i. 234-269] THE MERRY WIVES
Ev. But can you affection the 'o-man, let us command
to know that of your mouth, or of your lips: for divers
Philosophers hold, that the lips is parcel! of the mouth:
therfore precisely, can you carry your good wil to the
maid? | 212
Sh. Cosen Abraham Slender y can you love her/'
Slen. I hope sir, I w^ill do as it shall become one that
would doe reason.
Ev. Nay,got*s Lords, and his Ladies, you mustspeake
possitable, if you can carry-her your desires towards her.
Shal. That you must:
Will you, (upon good dowry) marry her?
Slen. I will doe a greater thing then that, upon your
request (Cosen) in any reason. 221
ShaL Nay conceive me, conceive mee, (sweet Coz):
what I doe is to pleasure you (Coz:) can you love the
maid?
Slen. I will marry her (Sir) at your request; but if
there bee no great love in the beginning, yet Heaven
may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when wee
are married, and have more occasion to know one ano-
ther: I hope upon familiarity will grow more content:
but if you say mary-her, I will mary-her, that I am freely
dissolved, and dissolutely. 23 i
Ev. It is a fery discetion-answere; save the fall is in
the'ord, dissolutely: the ort is (according to our mea-
ning) resolutely: his meaning is good.
Sh. I: I thinke my Cosen meant well.
SI. I, or else I would I might be hang'd (la.)
Sh. Here comes faire Mistris Anne\ would I were
yong for your sake, Mistris Anne.
218-19. prose-PoPE. 229. content: contempt-THEOBALD.
232. diiution: discretion-2-4F. 233. ^ord: ort-2RowE.
10
OF WINDSOR [I. i. 270-306
\_Re-enter Anne Page.'\
An. The dinner is on the Table, my Father desires
your worships company. 240
8h. I will wait on him, (faire Mistris Anne.')
Ev. Od's plessed-wil: I wil not be absence at the
grace. | \Exeunt Shallow and Evans. "^
An. Wil't please your worship to come in. Sir?
SI. No, I thank you forsooth, hartely ; I am very well.
An. The dinner attends you. Sir.
SI. I am not a-hungry, I thanke you, forsooth: goe,
Sirha, for all you are my man, goe wait upon my Cosen
Shallow: \_Exit Simple. 1^ a Justice of peace sometime may
be beholding | to his friend, for a Man; I keepe but
three Men, and a | Boy yet, till my Mother be dead:
but what though, yet | I live like a poore Gentleman
borne. | 251
An. I may not goe in without your worship: they
will not sit till you come.
SI. P faith, ile eate nothing: I thanke you as much as
though I did.
An. I pray you Sir walke in.
SI. I had rather walke here (I thanke you) I bruiz'd
my shin th* other day, with playing at Sword and Dag-
ger with a Master of Fence (three veneys^ for a dish of
stew'd Prunes) and by my troth, I cannot abide the smell
of hot meate since. Why doe your dogs barke so? be
there Beares ith' Towne/* '^fencing bouts 262
An. I thinke there are. Sir, I heard them talk'd of.
SI. I love the sport well, but I shall as soone quarrell
at it, as any man in England: you are afraid if you see the
Beare loose, are you not?
An. I indeede Sir.
SI. That's meate and drinke tome now: I have scene
I. i. 307-ii. 8] THE MERRY WIVES
Sackerson loose, twenty times, and have taken him by the
Chaine: but (I warrant you) the women have so cride
and shrekt at it, that it past: But women indeede, cannot
abide* em, they are very ill-favour' d rough things. 272
[Re-enter Page."]
Ma, Pa. Come, gentle M . Slender, come ; we stay for
you. I
SI. He eate nothing, I thanke you Sir.
Ma. Pa. By cocke and pie, you shall not choose. Sir:
come, come.
SI. Nay, pray you lead the way.
Ma. Pa. Come on. Sir.
Si. Mistris Anne: your selfe shall goe first.
An. Not I Sir, pray you keepe on. 280
SI. Truely I will not goe first: truely-la: I will not
doe you that wrong.
An. I pray you Sir.
SI. He rather be unmannerly, then troublesome: you
doe your selfe wrong indeede-la. Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
[The same.~\
Enter Evans, and Simple.
Ev. Go your waies, and aske of Doctor Caius house,
which is the way; and there dwels one Mistris Quickly,
which is in the manner of his Nurse; or his dry-Nurse; or
his Cooke; or his Laundry; his Washer, and his Ringer.
Si. Well Sir. 7
Ev. Nay, it is petter yet; give her this letter; for it is
6. Ringer: Wringer-THEOBALD.
OF WINDSOR [I. ii. 8-iii. 24
a'oman that altogeathers acquaintance with Mistris Anne
Page-, and the Letter is to desire, and require her to soli-
cite your Masters desires, to Mistris Anne Page: I pray
you be gon: I will make an end of my dinner; ther's Pip-
pins and Cheese to come. Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
[A room in the Garter Inn.'\
Enter Falstaffe, Hosty Bardolfe, Nym, Pistoll, Page
{Robini .
FaL Mine Host of the Garter?
Ho. What sales my Bully Rooke? speake schollerly,
and wisely.
FaL Truely mine Host\ I must turne away some of my
followers.
Ho. Discard, (bully Hercules^ casheere; let them wag;
trot, trot.
FaL I sit at ten pounds a weeke. 10
Ho. Thou'rt an Emperor ( Cesar yKeiser and Pbeazar^
I will entertaine Bardolfe : he shall draw ; he shall tap ; said
I well (bully Hector}^
Fa. Doe so (good mine Host.
Ho. I have spoke: let him follow: yTo Bard.'\ let
me see thee froth, I and Uve; I am at a word; follow.
\Exit.-\
FaL Bardolfe, follow him; a Tapster i& a good trade:
an old Cloake, makes a new Jerkin: a withered Serving-
man, a fresh Tapster: goe, adew.
Ba. It is a Hfe that I have desirM: I will thrive. 20
Pist. O base hungarian wight; wilt thou the spigot
wield. I [^Exit Bardolph."]
16. live: lime (lyme-Q2.)-CAPBLL.
*3
I. iii. 25-64] THE MERRY WIVES
Ni. He was gotten in drink: is not the humor con-
ceited? I
Fai. I am glad I am so acquit of this Tinderbox: his
Thefts were too open; his filching was like an unskilful!
Singer, he kept not time.
Ni. The good humor is to steale at a minutes rest.
Pist. Convay : the wise it call: Steale? foh: a fico^ for
the phrase. ^ Jig
Fa I. Well sirs, I am almost out at heeles.
Pist. Why then let Kibes 2 ensue. '^chilblains 30
Fal. There is no remedy; I must conicatch,*^ I must
shift. I ^ cheat
Pist. Yong Ravens must have foode.
Fal. Which of you know Ford of this Towne?
Pist. I ken the wight: he is of substance good.
Fal. My honest Lads, I will tell you what I am about.
Pist. Two yards, and more.
Fal. No quips now Pistolh (Indeede I am in the waste
two yards about : but I am now about no waste; I am a-
bout thrift) briefely: I doe meane to make love to Fords
wife: I spie entertainment in her: shee discourses: shee
carves; she gives the leere of invitation; I can construe
the action of her familier stile, & the hardest voice of her
behavior (to be englishM rightly) is, lam Sir John Fal-
stafs. I 43
Pist. He hath studied her will; and translated her will:
out of honesty, into English.
Ni. The Anchor is deepe: will that humor passe?
Fal. Now, the report goes, she has all the rule of her
husbands Purse : he hath a legend of Angels. ^ 4 gQ^ ^-gi^^
Pist. As many divels entertaine : and to her Boy say I .
Ni, The humor rises: it is good: humor me the an-
gels. I 50
48. legend: Xtgion (legian8-iQ.)-PoPB.
H
OF WINDSOR ri. iii. 65-95
Fal. I have writ me here a letter to her: & here ano-
ther to Pages wife, who even now gave mee good eyes
too; examind my parts with most judicious illiads: ^ some-
times the beame of her view, guilded my foote; some-
times my portly belly. ^glances
Pist. Then did the Sun on dung-hill shine.
Ni. I thanke thee for that humour. 57
Fal. O she did so course o're my exteriors with such
a greedy intention, that the appetite of her eye, did seeme
to scorch me up like a burning-glasse : here's another
letter to her; She beares the Purse too; She is a Region
in Guiana: all gold, and bountie: I will be Cheaters to
them both, and they shall be Exchequers to mee: they
shall be my East and West Indies, and I will trade to
them both: Goe, beare thou this Letter to Mistris Page;
and thou this to Mistris Fordi we will thrive (Lads) we
will thrive.
Pist. Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become.
And by my side weare Steele? then Lucifer take all.
Ni. I will run no base humor: here take the humor-
Letter; I will keepe .the havior of reputation. 71
Fal. \ToRobin\ Hold Sirha, beare you these Letters
tightly,2 I 2 hriskly
Saile like my Pinnasse to these golden shores.
Rogues, hence, avaunt, vanish like haile-stones; goe.
Trudge; plt)d away ith' hoofe: seeke shelter, packe;
Falstaffe will learne the honor of the age,
French-thrift, you Rogues, my selfe, and skirted Page.
\Exeunt Falstaff and Robin. '\
Pist. Let Vultures gripe thy guts; for gourd,^ and
Fullam3 holds: & high and low beguiles the rich & poore,
53. illiads: ocillades-CAPKLL. -^
62. Cheaters: cheater-TnEOBALD. 75. itb^ : o'the(oth')-2-4F.
76. honor: humour-(^g.
I. iii. 96-iv. 9] THE MERRY WIVES
Tester ^ ile have in pouch when thou shalt lacke, 80
Base Phrygian Turke. i sixpence
Ni. I have opperations.
Which be humors of revenge.
Pist. Wilt thou revenge?
Ni. By Welkin, 2 and her Star. 2 heaven
Pist. With wit, or Steele?
Ni. With both the humors, I;
I will discusse the humour of this Love to Ford.
Pist. And I to Page shall eke unfold
How Falstaffe (varlet vile) 90
His Dove will prove; his gold will hold.
And his soft couch defile.
Ni. My humour shall not coole: I will incense Ford
to deale with poyson: I will possesse him with yallow-
nesse,3 for the revolt of mine is dangerous: that is my
true humour. ^jealousy
Pist. Thou art the Mars ol Male contents: I second
thee: troope on. Exeunt.
Scoena Quarta.
[^A room in Doctor Caius* s house."]
Enter Mistris Quick ly. Simple, John Rugby , Doctor,
Caiusy Fenton.
Qu. What, John Rugby, I pray thee goe to the Case-
ment, and see if you can see my Master, Master Docter
Caius comming: if he doe (!' faith) and finde any body
in the house; here will be an old abusing of Gods pati-
ence, and the Kings English.
Ru. Ile goe watch. 9
Qu. Goe, and we' U have a posset for* t soone at night,
88, 89, 93. Ford .. Page .. Ford: Page .. Ford .. Page-Qg.
16
OF WINDSOR [I. iv. 9-44
(in faith) at the latter end of a Sea-cole-fire; [^Exit
Rugiy.^ An honest, | willing, kinde fellow, as ever
servant shall come in house | withall: and I warrant
you, no tel-tale, nor no breede- | bate:^ his worst fault
is, that he is given to prayer; hee is | something peev-
ish that way: but no body but has his | fault: but let
that passe. Peter Simple, you say your | name is?
1 debate-breeder
Si. I: for fault of a better.
Qu. And Master S/ender's your Master?
Si. I forsooth. 20
Qu. Do's he not weare a great round Beard, like a
Glovers pairing-knife?
Si. No forsooth: he hath but a little wee-face; with
a little yellow Beard: a Caine colourd Beard.
Qu. A softly-sprighted man, is he not?
Si. I forsooth : but he is as tall a man of his hands, as
any is betweene this and his head: he hath fought with
a Warrener.
Qu. How say you: oh, I should remember him: do's
he not hold up his head (as it were?) and strut in his gate?
Si. Yes indeede do's he. 31
Qu. Well, heaven send ^nne Page, no worse fortune:
Tell Master Parson Evans, I will doe what I can for your
Master: Anne is a good girle, and I wish —
[Re-enter Rugby.'\
Ru. Out alas: here comes my Master.
Qu. We shall all beshent: Run in here, good young
man: goe into this Closset: he will not stay long: [Sbuts
Simple in the closet.'] what | yobn Rugby? John: what
John I sayr* goe John, goe en- I quire for my Master,
I doubt he be not well, that hee | comes not home:
\Singing\ (^and downe, downe, adowne'* a. l^c. | 40
«7
I. iv. 45-74] THE MERRY WIVES
[Enter Doctor Caius.l^
Ca. Vat is you sing? I doe not like des-toyes: pray
you goe and vetch me in my Closset, unboyteene verd;
a Box, a greene-a-Box; do intend vat I speake? a greene-
a-Box.
Qu. I forsooth ile fetch it you.- [^Aside]
I am glad hee wrent not in himselfe: if he had found the
yong man he would have bin horne-mad.
Ca. Fe,feyfey fe, mai fo^, il fait for ehando, Je man
voi ale \ Court la grand affaires,
Qu. 18 it this Sir? 50
Ca. Ouy mette le au mon pockety de-pee ch quickly:
Vere is dat knave Rugby}
Qu. What John Rugby, John?
Ru. Here Sir.
Ca. You are John Rugby, and you are Jacke Rugby.
Come, take-a-your Rapier, and come after my heele to
the Court.
Ru. 'Tis ready Sir, here in the Porch.
Ca. By my trot: I tarry too long: od's-me: que ayje
oublie: dere is some Simples in my Closset, dat 1 vill not
for the varld I shall leave behinde. 61
Qu. Ay-me,he' 11 finde the yong man there,& be mad.
Ca. O Diabky Diable: vat is in my Closset?
Villanie, La-roone: Rugby, my Rapier.
\Pulling Simple out.']
Qu. Good Master be content.
Ca. Wherefore shall I be content-a?
42. unboyteene: un boitier-RowE.
48-9. mat foy, .. for ehando, ye man voi a le Court la grand af-
faires: mafoi, .. fort chaud, Je m'en vais h. la cour — la grande
affaire-RowE. 51. dc-peech: ddpeche-CAMBRiDGE.
59-60. que ay je oublie: Qu'ai-j'-oublie!-JoHNSoN.
64. yUlanie: villainl-3Q. La-roone: larronl-RowE.
18
OF WINDSOR [I. iv. 7S-110
Qu. The yong man is an honest man.
Ca. What shall de honest man do in my Closset : dere
is no honest man dat shall come in my Closset. 69
Qu. I beseech you be not so flegmaticke: heare the
truth of it. He came of an errand to mee, from Parson
Hugb,
Ca. Veil.
Si. I forsooth: to desire her to —
Qu. Peace, I pray you.
Ca. Peace-a-your tongue: speake-a-your Tale.
Si. To desire this honest Gentlewoman (your Maid)
to speake a good word to Mistris Jnne Page, for my Ma-
ster in the way of Marriage.
Qu. This is all indeede-la: but ile nere put my finger
in the fire, and neede not. 8 1
Ca. Sir Hugb send-a you? Rug3y, ballow^ mee some
paper: tarry you a Iktell-a-while. \W'rites.~\ '^ fetch
Qui. [Aside to Simple\ I am glad he is so quiet: if
he had bin through- | ly moved, you should have heard
him so loud, and so me- | lancholly: but notwithstand-
ing man, lie doe yoe your | Master what good I can:
and the very yea, & the no is, the | French Doctor my
Master, (I may call him my Master, | looke you, for I
keepe his house; and I wash, ring, brev/, | bake, scowre,
dresse meat and drinke, make the beds, and | doe all
my selfe.) | 91
Simp. \_Aside to Quickly] 'Tis a great charge to come
under one bodies | hand.
Qui. [Aside to Simple'] Are you a-vis*do'that? you
shall finde it a great | charge: and to be up early, and
down late: but notwith- | standing, (to tell you in your
eare, I wold have no words | of it) my Master himselfe
82. balloiv: baille-CAMBRiDGE. 86. yoe: you-Cambridge.
89. ring: wring-iRowE.
'9
I. iv. 110-145] THE MERRY WIVES
is in love with Mistris Anne \ Page: but notwithstand-
ing that I know Ans mind, that's | neither heere nor
there. | 99
Caius. You, Jack 'Nape: give-' a this Letter to Sir
Hughy by gar it is a shallenge: I will cut his troat in de
Parke, and I will teach a scurvy Jack-a-nape Priest to
meddle, or make; you may be gon: it is not good
you tarry here: by gar I will cut all his two stones: by
gar, he shall not have a stone to throw at his dogge.
\Exit Simple. '\
Qui. Alas: he speakes but for his friend.
Caius. It is no matter' a ver dat: do not you tell-a-me
dat I shall have Anne Page for my selfe? by gar, I vill
kill de Jack- Priest: and I have appointed mine Host of
de Jarteer to measure our weapon: by gar, I wil my selfe
have Anne Page. 1 1 1
Qui. Sir, the maid loves you, and all shall bee well:
We must give folkes leave to prate: what the good-jer.i
Caius. Rugby y come to the Court with me: by gar, if
I have not Anne Page, I shall turne your head out of my
dore: follow my heeles, Rugby. "^ an oath
\Exeunt Caius and Rugby. ^
Qui. You shall have y/f?-fooles head of your owne:
No, I know Ans mind for that: never a woman in Wind-
sor knowes more of Ans minde then I doe, nor can doe
more then I doe with her, I thanke heaven. 120
Fenton. [JVithin'] Who's with in there, hoa?
Qui. Who's there, I troa? Come neere the house I
pray you.
[Enter Fenton. ~\
Fen. How now (good woman) how dost thoxx?
Qui. The better that it pleases your good Worship
to aske?
OF WINDSOR [I. iv. 145-180
Fen. What newes? how do's pretty Mistris Annet
Qui. In truth Sir, and shee is pretty, and honest, and
gentle, and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by
the way, I praise heaven for it. 130
Fen. Shall I doe any good thinkst thour* shall I not
loose my suit?
Qui, Troth Sir, all is in his hands above: but not-
withstanding ( Master Fenton') He be sworne on a booke
shee loves you: have not your Worship a wart above
your eye/*
Fen. Yes marry have I, what of that?
Qui. Wei, thereby hangs a tale: good faith, it is such
another Nan\ (but (I detest) an honest maid as ever
broke bread: wee had an howres talke of that wart; I
shall never laugh but in that maids company: but (in-
deed) shee is given too much to Allicholy and musing:
but for you well — goe too 143
Fen. Well: I shall see her to day: hold, there's mo-
ney for thee: Let mee have thy voice in my behalfe: if
thou seest her before me, commend me.
Qui. Will I? I faith that wee will: And I will tell
your Worship more of the Wart, the next time we have
confidence, and of other wooers.
Fen. Well, fare-well, I am in great haste now. 1 50
Qui. Fare- well to your Worship: \Exit Fen ton. "^
truely an honest | Gentleman: but Jnne loves hiim not:
for I knowy^;Vi | mindeaswell as another do's; out up-
on't: what have I | forgot. Exit.
152. biim: hiin-a-4F.
di
II. i. 1-26] THE MERRY WIVES
Actus Secundus. Sccena Prima.
\_Before Page* s house. "^
Enter Mistris Page, Mistris Ford, Master Page, Master
Ford, Pistoll, Nim, Quickly, Host, Shallow.
[Enter Mistress Page, with a letter."^
Mist. Page. What, have scap'd Love-letters in the
holly-day-time of my beauty, and am I now a subject
for them? let me see? [Reads']^
Aske me no reason why I love you J'or though Love use Rea-
son for hisprecisiany hee admits him not for his Counsailour:
youare not yongynomore am I: goetothen,there^ s simpathie:
you are merry ySO am I: hay hay then there^ s more simpathie:
you lovesackcyandso do I: would you desirebetter simpathie}
Let it suffice thee ( Mistris Page) at the least if the Love of
Souldier can suffice ythat Hove thee: Iwillnot saypittymee,
^ tis not a Souldier-like phrase; but I say, love me: 14
By me, thine owne true Knight y by day or night:
Or any kinde of light, with all his mighty
For thee to fight. John Falstafe.
What a Herod o^Jurie is this? O wicked, wicked world :
One that is well-nye worne to peeces with age
To show himstl^ea yong Gallant/' What an unwaied 20
Behaviour hath this Flemish drunkard pickt ^with
The Devills name) out of my conversation, that he dares
In this manner assay me? why, hee hath not beene thrice
4. have scap^ d: have I scaped-2-4F.
8. precisian: physician-DycE.
15-17. new 1. at Thine, 5 rhymed 11.-Capell,
18-26. prose-PoPE.
OF WINDSOR [II. i. 26-59
In my Company: what should I say to him? I was then
Frugall of my mirth: (heaven forgive mee:) why He
Exhibit a Bill in the Parliament for the putting downe
of men: how shall I be revengM on him? for reveng'd I
will be? as sure as his guts are made of puddings.
^Enfer Mistress Ford.']
Mis For J. Mistris PagCy trust me, I was going to your
house. 30
Mis. Page. And trust me, I was comming to you: you
looke very ill.
Mis. Ford. Nay, He nere beleeee that; I have to shew
to the contrary.
Mis. Page. * Faith but you doe in my minde.
Mis. Ford. Well: I doe then: yet I say, I could shew
you to the contrary: O Mistris Page, give mee some
counsaile.
Mis. Page. What's the matter, woman?
Mi. Ford. O woman; if it were not for one trifling re-
spect, I could come to such honour. 41
Mi. Page. Hang- the trifle (woman) take the honour:
what is It.? dispence with trifles: what is it?
Mi. Ford. If I would but goe to hell, for an eternall
moment, or so: I could be knighted.
Mi. Page. What thou liest? Sir Alice Ford} these
Knights will hacke, and so thou shouldst not alter the ar-
ticle of thy Gentry. 48
Mi. Ford. Wee burne day-light: heere, read, read:
perceive how I might bee knighted, I shall thinke the
worse of fat men, as long as I have an eye to make difi^e-
rence of mens liking: and yet hee would not sweare;
praise womens modesty: and gave such orderly and wel-
33. beleeee: belie ve-2-4F. 53. pnute: praised-THKOBALD.
»3
II. i. 59-96] THE MERRY WIVES
behaved reproofe to al uncomelinesse, that I would have
sworne his disposition would have gone to the truth of
his words: but they doe no more adhere and keep place
together, then the hundred Psalms to the tune of Green-
sleeves: What tempest (I troa) threw this Whale, (with
so many Tuns of oyle in his belly) a'shoare at Windsor?
How shall I bee revenged on him? I thinke the best way
were, to entertaine him with hope, till the wicked fire
of lust have melted him in his owne greace: Did you e-
ver heare the like/' 63
Mis. Page. Letter for letter; but that the name of
Page and For J differs: to thy great comfort in this my-
stery of ill opinions, heere's the twyn-brother of thy Let-
ter: but let thine inherit first, for I protest mine never
shall: I warrant he hath a thousand of these Letters, writ
with blancke-space for different names (suremore^: and
these are of the second edition: hee will print them out
of doubt: for he cares not what hee puts into the presse,
when he would put us two: I had rather be a Giantesse,
and lye under Mount Pelioni Well; I will find you twen-
tie lascivious Turtles ere one chaste man. 74
Mis. Ford. Why this is the very same: the very hand:
the very words: what doth he thinke of us?
Mis. Page. Nay I know not: it makes me almost rea-
die to wrangle v^ith mine owne honesty: He entertaine
my selfe like one that I am not acquainted withall : for
sure unlesse hee know some straine in mee, that I know
not my selfe, hee would never have boorded me in this
furie. 82
Mi. Ford. Boording, call you it? He bee sure to keepe
him above decke.
Mi. Page. So will I: if hee come under my hatches,
57. hundred Psalms: Hundredth Psalm-RowB.
OF WINDSOR [II. i. 96-126
lie never to Sea againe: Let's bee revengM on him: let's
appoint him a meeting : give him a show of comfort in
his Suit, and lead him on with a fine baited delay, till hee
hath pawn'd his horses to mine Host of the Garter.
Mi. Ford. Nay, I wil consent to act any villany against
him, that may not sully the charinesse of our honesty: oh
that my husband saw this Letter: it would give eternall
food to his jealousie. 93
Mis. Page. Why look where he comes; and my good
man too: hee's as farre from jealousie, as I am from gi-
ving him cause, and that (I hope) is an unmeasurable di-
stance.
Mis. Ford. You are the happier woman.
Mis. Page. Let's consult together against this greasie
Knight: Come hither. [They retire.'] 100
[Enter Ford with Pistol, and Page with Nym.]
Ford. Well: I hope, it be not so.
Pist. Hope is a curtall-dog in some affaires:
Sir John affects thy wife.
Ford. Why sir,. my wife is not young.
Pist. He wooes both high and low, both rich & poor,
both yong and old, one with another ( Ford) he loves the
Gally-mawfryi (^Ford) perpend. 2 '^ medley ^ consider
Ford. Love my wife?
Pist. With liver, burning hot: prevent:
Or goe thou like Sir Acteon he, with 1 10
Ring- wood at thy heeles: O, odious is the name.
Ford. What name Sir?
Pist. The home I say: Farewell:
Take heed, have open eye, for theeves doe foot by night.
105-7. 3 five-accent H.-Pope.
iio-ii. new II. at Like and O-Capeix.
as
II. i. 127-164] THE MERRY WIVES
Take heed, ere sommer comes, or Cuckoo-birds do sing.
Away sir Corporall Nim:
Beleeve it (Page') he speakes sence. [^at//.] i 17
Ford. \Aside\ I will be patient: I will find out this.
Nim. \To Page\ And this is true: I like not the
humor of lying: | hee hath wronged mee in some hu-
mors: I should have | borne the humour' d Letter to her:
but I have a sword: | and it shall bite upon my necessitie:
he loves your wife; | There's the short and the long:
My name is Corporall | Nim-. I speak, and I avouch;
'tis true: my name is Nim-. \ and Fahtaffe loves your
wife: adieu, I love not the hu- | mour of bread and
cheese: [And theres the humor of it.] adieu. | \Exit.'\
Page. The humour of it (quoth* a?) heere's a fellow
frights English out of his wits.
Ford. I will seeke out Fahtaffe.
Page. I never heard such a drawling-affecting rogue.
Ford. If I doe finde it: well. 131
Page. I will not beleeve such a Catalan, though the
Priest o' th'Towne commended him for a true man.
Ford. 'Twas a good sensible fellow: well.
Page. How now Meg}
\_Mrs. Page and Mrs. Ford come forward. '\
Mist. Page. Whether goe you {George?) harke you.
Mis Ford. How now (sweet Frank) why art thou me-
lancholy.^
Ford. I melancholy? I am not melancholy:
Get you home: goe. 140
Mis. Ford. Faith, thou hast some crochets in thy head.
Now: will you goe, Mistris Page}
Mis. Page. Have with you: you'll come to dinner
George? \_Aside to Mrs. Ford] Looke who comes yon-
der: shee shall bee our | Messenger to this paltrie Knight.
126. bracketed words-Qg. 141. crochets: crotchet8-4F.
a6
OF WINDSOR [II. i. 165-198
Mis. Ford. \_Aside to Mrs. Page] Trust me, I
thought on her: shee'll fit it. |
[Enter Mistress Quickly.]
Mis. Page. You are come to see my daughter Annet
Qui. I forsooth: and I pray how do's good Mistresse
Anne>
Mis. Page. Go in with us and see : we have an houres
talke with you. 151
[Exeunt Mrs. Page, Mrs. Ford, and Mrs. Quick/y.]
Page. How now Master Ford?
For. You heard what this knave told me, did you not?
Page. Yes, and you heard what the other told me?
Ford. Doe you thinke there is truth in them?
Pag. Hang * em slaves : I doe not thinke the Knight
would oiFer it: But these that accuse him in his intent
towards our wives, are a yoake of his discarded men: ve-
ry rogues, now they be out of service.
Ford. Were they his men? 1 60
Page. Marry were they.
Ford. I like it never the beter for that.
Do's he lye at the Garter?
Page. I marry do's he: if hee should intend this voy-
age toward my wife, I would turne her loose^to him;
and what hee gets more of her, then sharpe words, let it
lye on my head.
Ford. I doe not misdoubt my wife: but I would bee
loath to turne them together: a man may be too confi-
dent: I would have nothing lye on my head: I cannot
be thus satisfied. 171
Page. Looke where my ranting- Host of the Garter
comes: there is eyther liquor in his pate, or mony in his
162. beter: better- 2-4F. 1 62-3. prose-PoPE.
i. 17 ^7
11. i. 198-229] THE MERRY WIVES
purse, when hee lookesso merrily: [Enter Host,~\ How
now mine | Host?
Host. How now Bully- Rooke: thou'rt a Gentleman
Caveleiro Justice, I say.
[Enter Shallow.']
Shal. I follow, (mine Host) I follow: Good-even,
and twenty (good Master Page. ) Master P/7g-^,wil you go
with us? we have sport in hand. 1 80
Host. Tell him Caveleiro -Justice: tell him BuUy-
Rooke.
Shall. Sir, there is a fray to be fought, betweene Sir
Hugh the Welch Priest, and Caius the French Doctor.
Ford. Good mine Host o' th' Garter : a word with you.
[Drawing him aside.]
Host. What saist thou, my Bully- Rooke?
Shal. Will you goe with us to behold it? My merry
Host hath had the measuring of their weapons; and (I
thinke) hath appointed them contrary places: for (be-
leeve mee) I heare the Parson is no Jester: harke, I will
tell you what our sport shall be. 191
[They converse apart.]
Host. Hast thou no suit against my Knight/* my guest-
Cavaleire?
Shal. [Ford] None, I protest: but He give you a
pottle of I burn'd sacke, to give me recourse to him, and
tell him | my name is Broome: onely for a jest.
Host. My hand, (Bully:) thou shalt have egresse and
regresse, (said I well?) and thy name shall be Broome. It
is a merry Knight: will you goe An-heires?
Shal. Have with you mine Host. 200
196) 198, and throughout. Broome: Brook-(^.
OF WINDSOR [II. i. «3o-ii. lo
Page. I have heard the French-man hath good skill
m his Rapier.
ShaL Tut sir: I could have told you more: In these
times you stand on distance: your Passes, Stoccado's, and
I know not w^hat: 'tis the heart (Master Page') 'tis heere,
'tisheere: I have seene the time, with my long-sword, I
would have made you fowre tall fellowes skippe like
Rattes.
Host, Heere boyes, heere, heere: shall we wag?
Page. Have with you: I had rather heare them scold,
then fight. 2 1 1
Ford. Though Page be a secure foole, and stands so
firmely on his wives frailty; yet, I cannot put-ofFmy o-
pinion so easily: she was in his company at Pages house:
and what they made there, I know not. Well, I wil looke
further into' t, and I have a disguise, to sound Falstaffe-, if
I finde her honest, I loose not my labor: if she be other-
wise, 'tis labour well bestowed. Exeunt,
Scoena Secunda.
[A room in the Garter Inn."]
Enter FalstafFe, Pistoll, Robin, Quickly, Bardolffe,
Ford.
Fa I. I will not lend thee a penny.
Pist. Why then the world's mine Oyster, which I,
with sword will open. 6
Fal. Not a penny: I have beene content (Sir,) you
should lay my countenance to pawne : I have grated up-
on my good friends for three Repreeves for you, and
your Coach-fellow Nim; or else you had look'd through
the grate, like a Geminyof Baboones: I am damn'd in
hell, for swearing to Gentlemen my fHends, you were
»9
II. ii. 10-37] THE MERRY WIVES
good Souldiers, and tall-fellowes. And when Mistresse
Briget lost the handle of her Fan, I took*t upon mine ho-
nour thou hadst it not.
Pist. Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteene
pence? i 7
Fal. Reason, you roague, reason: thinkst thou He en-
danger my soule, gratis} at a word, hang no more about
mee, I am no gibbet for you : goe, a short knife, and a
throng, to your Mannor oi Pickt-hatch: goe, you'll not
beare a Letter for mee you roague? you stand upon your
honor: why, (thou unconfinable basenesse) it is as much
as I can doe to keepethe termes of my hononor precise:
I, I, I my selfe sometimes, leaving the feare of heaven on
the left hand, and hiding mine honor in my necessity, am
faine to shufflle: to hedge, and to lurch, and yet, you
Rogue, will en-sconce your raggs; your Cat-a-Moun-
taine-lookes, your red-lattice ^ phrases, and your bold-
beating-oathes, under the shelter of your honor ? you
will not doe it? you? '^public-house 3 1
Pist» I doe relent: what would thou more of man?
\Enter Robin,'\
Robin » Sir, here*s a woman would speake with you.
FaL Let her approach.
\Enter Mistress ^ick/y.'\
Qui. Give your worship good morrow.
Fa/. Good-morrow, good-wife.
Qui. Not so, and*t please your worship.
Fa/. Good maid then.
24. bononor: honour-2-4F. 25, 54. heaven: God-gfi.
17. sbuffile: 8huffle-a-4F.
OF WINDSOR [II. ii. 38-73
Qui. He be sworne.
As my mother was the first houre I was borne. 40
Fa I. I doe beleeve the swearer; what with me?
Qui. Shall I vouch-safe your worship a word, or
two?
Fa I. Two thousand (faire woman) and ile vouchsafe
thee the hearing.
Qui. There is one Mistresse Ford, (Sir) I pray come a
little neerer this waies: I my selfe dwell with M. Doctor
Caius:
Fal. Well, on; Mistresse Fordy you say.
Qui. Your worship saies very true: I pray your wor-
ship come a little neerer this waies. 5 1
Fal. I warrant thee, no-bodie heares: mine owne
people, mine owne people.
Qui. Are they so? heaven-blesse them, and make
them his Servants.
Fal. Well; Mistresse Ford, what of her?
Qui. Why, Sir; shee's a good-creature; Lord, Lord,
your Worship's a wanton: well: heaven forgive you,
and all of us, I pray .
Fal. Mistresse Ford', come, Mistresse Ford. 60
Qui. Marry this is the short, and the long of it: you
have brought her into such a Canaries, as 'tis wonder-
full: the best Courtier of them all (when the Court lay
at Windsor') could never have brought her to such a Ca-
narie: yet there has beene Knights, and Lords, and Gen-
tlemen, with their Coaches; I warrant you Coach after
Coach, letter after letter, gift after gift, smelling so sweet-
ly; all Muske, and so rushling, I warrant you, in silke
and golde, and in such alligant termes, and in such wine
and suger of the best, and the fairest, that would have
wonne any womans heart: and I warrant you, they could
never get an eye-winke of her: I had my selfe twentie
3»
II. ii. 73-114] THE MERRY WIVES
Angels 1 given me this morning, but I defie all Angels (in
any such sort, as they say) but in the way of honesty: and
I warrant you, they could never get her so much as sippe
on a cup with the prowdest of them all, and yet there has
beene Earles: nay, (which is more) Pentioners, but I
warrant you all is one with her. i coins
Fal. But what saies shee to mee? be briefe my good
shee- Mercune. 80
Qui. Marry, she hath receivM your Letter: for the
which she thankes you a thousand times; and she gives
you to notifie, that her husband will be absence from his
house, betweene ten and eleven.
Fa/. Ten, and eleven.
Qui. I, forsooth: and then you may come and see the
picture (she sayes) that you wot of: Master /'(7r^ her hus-
band will be from home: alas, the sweet woman leades
an ill life with him: hee's a very jealousie-man; she leads
a very frampold^ life with him, (good hart.) 90
Fa/. Ten, and eleven. 2 quar re/some
Woman, commend me to her, I will not faile her.
Qui. Why, you say well : But I have another messen-
ger to your worship: Mistresse Page hath her heartie
commendations to you to: and let mee tell you in your
eare, shee's as fartuous a civill modest wife, and one (I
tell you^ that will not misse you morning nor evening
prayer, as any is in Windsor y who ere bee the other: and
shee bade me tell your worship, that her husband is sel-
dome from home, but she hopes there will come a time.
I never knew a woman so doate upon a man; surely I
thinke you have charmes, la: yes in truth. 102
Fa/. Not I, I assure thee; setting the attraction of my
good parts aside, I have no other charmes.
Qui. Blessing on your heart for't.
Fa/. But I pray thee tell me this: has Fords wife,
3*
OF WINDSOR [II. ii. 1 14-149
and I Pages wife acquainted each other, how they love
me? I
Qui. That were a jest indeed: they have not so little
grace I hope, that were a tricke indeed: But Mistris Page
would desire you to send her your little Page of al loves:
her husband has a marvellous infection to the little Page:
and truely Master Page is an honest man: never a wife in
Windsor leades a better life then she do's: doe what shee
will, say what she will, take all, pay all, goe to bed when
she list, rise when she list, all is as she will: and truly she
deserves it; for if there be a kinde woman in Windsor y she
is one: you must send her your Page, no remedie.
FaL Why, I will. 118
Qu. Nay, but doe so then, and looke you, hee may
come and goe betweene you both : and in any case have
i. nay- word, ^ that you may know one anothers minde,
z.:d the Boy never neede to understand any thing; for
'f's not good that children should know any wickednes:
o'de folkes you know, have discretion, as they say, and
know the world. ^password
FaL Farethee-well, commend mee to them both:
there's my purse, I am yet thy debter: Boy, goe along
with this woman, this newes distracts me.
\_Exeunt Mistress Quickly and Robin.'^
Pist. This Puncke is one of Cupids Carriers, 129
Clap on more sailes, pursue: up with your fights :2
Give fire: she is my prize, or Ocean whelme them all.
[^at//.] 2 ship* s canvas
FaL Saist thou so (old Jacke^ go thy waies: He make
more of thy olde body then I have done: will they yet
looke after thee? wilt thou after the expence of so much
money, be now a gainer? good Body, I thanke thee: let
them say 'tis grossely done, so it bee fairely done, no
matter.
33
II. ii. 150-179] THE MERRY WIVES
[^Enter Bardolph.'\
Bar. Sir yi9^;7, there's one Master^r^<?/^^ below would
faine speake with you, and be acquainted with you; and
hath sent your worship a mornings draught of Sacke.
Fal. Broome is his name? 141
Bar. I Sir.
Fal. Call him in: [Exit Bar."] such Broomes are
welcome to mee, | that ore'flowes such liquor: ah
ha, Mistresse Ford and Mi-
compass' d you? goe to, via.
stresse Page, have I en-
\_Re-enter Bardolph with Ford disguise d.~\
Ford. 'Blesse you sir.
Fal. And you sir: would you speake with me/*
Ford. I make bold, to presse, with so little prepara-
tion upon you.
Fal. You'r welcome, what's your will? give us leave
Drawer. \Exit Bar.~\ 151
Ford. Sir, I am a Gentleman that have spent much,
my name is Broome.
Fal. Good Master Broome, I desire more acquaintance
of you.
Ford. Good Sir John, I sue for yours: not to charge
you, for I must let you understand, I thinke my selfe in
better plight for a Lender, then you are : the which hath
something emboldned me to this unseason'd intrusion:
for they say, if money goe before, all waies doe lye
open. 161
Fal. Money is a good Souldier (Sir^ and will on.
Ford. Troth, and I have a bag of money heere trou-
bles me: if you will helpe to beare it (Sir John) take all,
or halfe, for easing me of the carriage.
144. ore'floiua: o'erflow-CAPELL.
34
OF WINDSOR [II. ii. 180-216
Fal. Sir, I know not how I may deserve to bee your
Porter.
Ford, " will tell you sir, if you will give mee the hea-
ring.
Fal. Speake (good Master Broome') I shall be glad to
be your Servant. 1 7 1
Ford. Sir, I heare you are a Scholler; (I will be briefe
with you) and you have been a man long knowne to me,
though I had never so good means as desire, to make my
selfe acquainted with you. I shall discover a thing to
you, wherein I must very much lay open mine owne im-
perfection: but (good Sir John) as you have one eye up-
on my follies, as you heare them unfolded, turne another
into the Register of your owne, that I may passe with a
reproofe the easier, sith you your selfe know how easie it
is to be such an offender. 1 8 1
Fal. Very well iSir, proceed.
Ford. There is a Gentlewoman in this Towne, her
husbands name is Ford.
Fal. Well Sir.
Ford. I have long lov'd her, and I protest to you, be-
stowed much on her: followed her with a doating ob-
servance: Ingross'd opportunities to meete her: fee'd e-
very slight occasion that could but nigardly give mee
sight of her: not only bought many presents to give her,
but have given largely to many, to know what shee
would have given: briefly, I have pursuM her, as Love
hath pursued mee, which hath beene on the wing of all
occasions: but whatsoever I have merited, either in my
minde, or in my meanes, meede I am sure I have received
none, unlesse Experience be a Jewell, that I have purcha-
sed at an infinite rate, and that hath taught mee to say
this,
**Love like a shadow flies ywh en substance Love pursues ^
^* Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues. zoo
35
II. ii. 217-256] THE MERRY WIVES
Fal. Have you receivM no promise of satisfaction at
her hands?
Ford. Never.
FaL Have you importuned her to such a purpose?
Ford. Never.
Fal. Of what qualitie was your love then?
Ford. Like a fair house, built on another mans ground,
so that I have lost my edifice, by mistaking the place,
where I erected it. 209
Fal. To what purpose have you unfolded this to mer*
For. When I have told you that, I have told you all:
Some say, that though she appeare honest to mee, yet in
other places shee enlargeth her mirth so farre, that there
is shrewd construction made of her. Now (^wjohn) here
is the heart of my purpose: you are a gentleman of ex-
cellent breeding, admirable discourse, of great admit-
tance, authenticke in your place and person, generally
allow' d for your many war-like, court-Hke, and learned
preparations.
Fal. O Sir. 220
Ford. Beleeve it, for you know it: there is money,
spend it, spend it, spend more; spend all I have, onely
give me so much of your time in enchange of it, as to lay
an amiable siege to the honesty of this Fords wife: use
your Art of wooing; win her to consent to you: if any
man may, you may as soone as any. 226
Fal. Would it apply well to the vehemency of your
affection that I should win what you would enjoy? Me-
thinkes you prescribe to your selfe very preposterously.
Ford. O, understand my drift: she dwells so securely
on the excellency of her honor, that the folly of my soule
dares not present it selfe: shee is too bright to be look'd
against. Now, could I come to her with any detection
in my hand; my desires had instance and argument to
36
OF WINDSOR [H. ii. 256-296
commend themselves, I could drive her then from the
ward of her purity, her reputation, her marriage-vow^,
and a thousand other her defences, w^hich now are too-
too strongly embattaild against me: what say you too't.
Sir John} 239
Fal. Master Broome^ I will first make bold with your
money: next, give mee your hand: and last, as I am a
gentleman, you shall, if you will, enjoy Fords wife.
Ford. O good Sir.
Fal. I say you shall.
Ford. Want no money {^ixjohn) you shall want none.
Fal. Want no Mis tr esse Ford(^ Master Broome^you shall
want none: I shall be with her (I may tell you) by her
owne appointment, even as you came in to me, her assi-
stant, or goe-betweene, parted from me: I say I shall be
with her betweene ten and eleven: for at that time the
jealious-rascally-knave her husband will be forth: come
you to me at night, you shall know how I speed. 252
Ford. I am blest in your acquaintance: do you know
Ford Sir?
Fal. Hang him (poore Cuckoldly knave) I know
him not : yet I wrong him to call him poore : They say
the jealous wittolly-knave hath masses of money, for
the which his wife seemes to me well-favourd : I will use
her as the key of the Cuckoldly-rogues CoiFer, & ther's
my harvestrhome. 260
Ford. I would you knew Ford^ sir, that you might a-
void him, if you saw him.
Fal. Hang him, mechanicall-salt-butter rogue; Iwil
stare him out of his wits: I will awe-him with my cud-
gell: it shall hang like a Meteor ore the Cuckolds horns:
Master Broome, thou shalt know, I will predominate o-
ver the pezant, and thou shalt lye with his wife. Come
to me soone at night: Ford*^ a knave, and I will aggra-
37
II. ii. 296-328] THE MERRY WIVES
rate his stile: thou (Master Broome') shalt know him for
knave, and Cuckold. Come to me soone at night.
[£;r//.] 270
Ford. What a damn'd Epicurian-Rascall is this? my
heart is ready to cracke with impatience : who sales this
is improvident jealousie/* my wife hath sent to him, the
howre is fixt, the match is made: would any man have
thought this? see the hell of having a false woman : my
bed shall be abus'd, my Coffers ransack' d, my reputati-
on gnawne at, and I shall not onely receive this villanous
wrong, but stand under the adoption of abhominable
termes, and by him that does mee this wrong: Termes,
names: Amaimon sounds well: Lucifer y well: Bar basons
well: yet they are Divels additions, the names of fiends:
But Cuckold, Wittoll, Cuckold? the Divell himselfe
hath not such a n&me. Page is an Asse, a secure Asse; hee
will trust his wife, hee will not be jealous : I will rather
trust a Fleming with my butter. Parson Hugh the Welsh-
man with my Cheese, an Irish-man with my Aqua-vitae-
bottle, or a Theefe to walke my ambling gelding, then
my wife with her selfe. Then she plots, then shee rumi-
uates, then shee devises: and what they thinke in their
hearts they may effect: they will breake their hearts but
they will effect. Heaven bee prais'd for my jealousie;
eleven o' clocke the howre, I will prevent this, detect
my wife, beereveng'd on Falstaffe, and laugh at Page. I
will about it, better three houres too soone, then a my-
nute too late: fie, fie, fie: Cuckold, Cuckold, Cuckold.
Exti. 296
288-9. rumiuates: ruminates-2-4F.
291. Heaven: God-gg. 296. Exti: Exit-2-4F.
OF WINDSOR [II. iii. I -3 1
Scena Tertia.
\ji field near Windsor. "^
Enter Caius, Rugby, Page, Shallow, Slender, Host,
Caius. Jacke Rugby.
Rug. Sir.
Caius. Vat is the clocke. Jack.
Rug. ' Tis past the howre (Sir) that Su" Hugh promisM
to meet.
Cai. By gar, he has save his soule, dat he is no-come:
hee has pray his Pible well, dat he is no-come: by gar
(^Jack Rugby^ he is dead already, if he be come. lo
Rug. Hee is wise Sir: hee knew your worship would
kill him if he came.
Cai. By gar, de herring is no dead, so as I vill kill
him: take your Rapier, (^ Jacke) I vill tell you howl vill
kill him.
Rug. Alas sir, I cannot fence.
Cai. Villanie, take your Rapier.
Rug. Forbeare: heer's company.
[Enter Host,' Shallow, Slender, and Page. "]
Host. 'Blesse thee, bully-Doctor.
Shal. 'Save you M'. Doctor Caius. 20
Page. Now good M'. Doctor.
Slen. ^Give you good-morrow, sir.
Caius. Vat be all you one, two, tree, fbwre, come for?
Host. To see thee fight, to see thee foigne, to see thee
traverse, to see thee heere, to see thee there, to see thee
passe thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy
montant: Is he dead, my Ethiopian/* Is he dead, my Fran-
cisco? ha Bully? what sales my Esculapius^my Calient my
heart of Elder? ha? is he dead bully-Stale? is he dead?
5. the: de-3-4F. x8. Gaiien; Galen-Rowi.
S9
IT. iii. 32-66] THE MERRY WIVES
Cai. By gar, he is de Co\yard-Jack- Priest of de vorld :
he is not show his face. 3 1
Host. Thou art a Castalion-king-Urinall: Hector of
Greece (my Boy)
Cai. I pray you beare witnesse, that me have stay,
sixe or seven, two tree howres for him, and hee is no-
come.
Shal. Heisthewiserman(M.Docto)rheisa curerof
soules, and you a curer of bodies: if you should fight, you
goe against the haire of your professions: is it not true.
Master Page^ 40
Page. Master Shallow, you have your selfe beene a
great fighter, though now a man of peace.
Shal. Body-kins M. Page, though I now be old, and
of the peace; if I see a sword out, my finger itches to
make one; though wee are Justices, and Doctors, and
Church-men (M. Page') wee have some salt of our youth
in us, we are the sons of women (M. Page.)
Page. 'Tis true, M'. Shallow. 48
Shal. It wil be found so, ( M . Page : ) M . Doctor Caius,
I am come to fetch you home: I am sworn of the peace:
you have show'd your selfe a wise Physician, and Sir
Hugh hath showne himsclfe a wise and patient Church-
man: you must goe with me, M. Doctor.
Host. Pardon, Guest-Justice; a Mounseur Mocke-
water.
Cai. Mock-vater? vat is dat?
Host. Mock- water, in our English tongue, is Valour
(Bully.)
Cai. By gar, then I have as much Mock-vater as de
Englishman: scurvy- Jack-dog- Priest: by gar, mee vill
cut his eares. 61
37. Docto)rbe: doctor: he-2-4F.
54. a Mounseur: a word, Mounseur— <^.
OF WINDSOR [II. iii. 67-102
Host. He will Clapper-claw thee tightly (Bully.)
Cat. Clapper-de-claw? vat is dat?
Host. That is, he will make thee amends.
Cat. By-gar, me doe looke hee shall clapper-de-claw
me, for by-gar, me vill have it.
Host. And I will provoke him to't, or let him wag.
Cai. Me tanck you for dat.
Host. And moreover, (Bully) but first, M'. Ghuest,
and M. Page, & eeke Cavaleiro Slender, goe you through
the Towne to Frogmore. \Aside to them.'\ 71
Page. Sir Hugh is there, is he?
Host. He is there, see what humor he is in: and I will
bring the Doctor about by the Fields: will it doe well?
Shal. We will doe it.
All. Adieu, good M. Doctor.
\Exeunt Page, Shal., and Slen.'\
Cai. By-gar, me vill kill de Priest, for he speake for a
Jack-an-Ape to Anne Page. 78
Host. Let him die: sheath thy impatience: throw cold
water on thy Choller: goe about the fields with mee
through Frogmore, I will bring thee where Mistris Anne
Page is, at a Farm-hDuse a Feasting: and thou shalt wooe
her; Cride-game, said I well?
Cai. By-gar, mee dancke you vor dat: by gar I love
you: and I shall procure* a you de good Guest: de Earle,
de Knight, de Lords, de Gentlemen, my patients.
Host. For the which, I will be thy adversary toward
Anne Page-, said I well?
Cai. By-gar, 'tis good: veil said.
Host. Let us wag then. 90
Cai. Come at my heeles. Jack Rugby,
Exeunt,
83. Cride-game: Cried I aim?-DycK.
III. i. 1-29] THE MERRY WIVES
Actus Tertius. Scoena Prima.
[Afield near Frogmore,']
Enter Evans, Simple, Page, Shallow, Slender, Host,
Caius, I Rugby,
Evans. I pray you now, good Master Slenders serving-
man, and friend Simple by your name; which way have
you look'd for Master Caius, that calls himselfe Doctor
of Phisicke.
Sim. Marry Sir, the pittie-ward, the Parke-ward:
every way: olde Windsor way, and every way but the
Towne-way. i o
Evan. J most fehemently desire you, you will also
looke that way.
Sim. I will sir. [Exit.']
Evan. * Plesse my soule: how full of Chollors I am, and
trempling of minde: I shall be glad if he have deceived
me: how melancholies I am? I will knog his Urinalls a-
bout his knaves costard, ^ when I have good oportunities
for theorke: 'Plesse my soule; [Sings'] To shallow Rv-
iers to whose \ falls: melodious Birds sings Madrigalls:
There will we make \ our Peds of Roses: and a thousand
fragrant posies. To shal- \ low: 'Mercie on mee, I have
a great dispositions to cry. | [Sings] Melodious birds sing
Madrigalls: When as I sat in Pa- | bilon: and a
thousand vagr am Posies. To shallow, ^c. \ '^ head 2'^
[Re-enter Simple.]
Sim. Yonder he is comming, this way. Sir Hugh.
Evan. Hee's welcome: [Sings] To shallow Rivers,
18. Rviers: rivers-2-4F.
18-21. verse, 4 11., and i broken-PoPE.
22-3. verse, 4 11.-Capell.
OF WINDSOR [III. i. 29-61
to whose f ah \ | Heaven prosper the right: what wea-
pons is he? I
Sim. No weapons. Sir: there comes my Master, M'.
Shallow, and another Gentleman; from Frogmore, over
the stile, this way.
Evan. Pray you give mee my gowne, or else keepe it
in your armes. 3 1
\_Enter Page, Shallow, and Slender."]
Shal. How now Master Parson? good morrow good
Sir Hugh: keepe a Gamester from the dice, and a good
Studient from his booke, and it is wonderfiill.
Slen. ^Aside] Ah sweet Anne Page.
Page. 'Save you, good Sir Hugh.
Evan. 'Plesse you from his mercy-sake, all of you.
Shal, What? the Sword, and the Word?
Doe you study them both, M'. Parson?
Page. And youthftill still, in your doublet and hose,
this raw-rumaticke day? 41
Evan. There is reasons, and causes for it.
Page. We are come to you, to doe a good office, M'.
Parson.
Evan. Fery-well: what is it?
Page. Yonder is a most reverend Gentleman; who
ybe-like) having received wrong by some person, is at
most odds with his owne gravity and patience, that ever
you saw. 49
Shal. I have lived foure-score yeeres, and upward : I
never heard a man of his place, gravity, and learning, so
wide of his owne respect.
Evan. What is he ?
Page. I thinke you know him: M'. Doctor Caius the
renowned French Physician.
i. 18 43
III. i. 62.95] THE MERRY WIVES
Evan. Got's-will, and his passion of my heart: I had
as lief you would tell me of a messe of porredge.
Page. Why?
Evan. He has no more knowledge in Hibocrates and
Galen f and hee is a knave besides: a cowardly knave, as
you would desires to be acquainted withall. 61
Page. I warrant you, hee's the man should fight with
him.
Slen. [Aside^ O sweet Anne Page.
Shal. It appeares so by his weapons; keepe them a-
sunder: here comes Doctor Caius.
[Enter Host, Caius y and Rugby. "^
Page. Nay good M'. Parson, keepe in your weapon.
Shal. So doe you, good M'. Doctor.
Host. Disarme them, and let them question: let them
keepe their limbs whole, and hack our English. 70
Cat. I pray you let-a-mee speake a word with your
eare; vherefore vill you not meet-a me?
Evan. [Aside to Caius"] Pray you use your patience
in good time. |
Cai. By-gar, you are de Coward: de Jack dog: John
Ape.
Evan. [Aside to Caius] Pray you let us not be laugh-
ing-stocks to other I mens humors: I desire you in friend-
ship, and I will one | way or other make you amends:
[Aloud~\ I will knog your Urinal | about your knaves
Cogs-combe | [for missing | your meetings and appoint-
ments] . 79
Cai. Diable: Jack Rugby: mine Hostdejarteer: have I
not stay for him, to kill himr" have I not at de place I did
appoint?
61. acquainted: acquainted-2-4F. 78. Urinal: urinals-gQ.
79. bracketed words-J^g.
44
OF WINDSOR [III. i. 96-129
Evan. As I am a Christians-soule, now looke you:
this is the place appointed. He bee judgement by mine
Host of the Garter.
Host. Peace, I say, G^///^ and Gaule, French Sc Welch,
Soule-Curer, and Body-Curer.
Cai. I, dat is very good, excellant.
Host. Peace, I say : heare mine Host of the Garter,
Am I politicke/' Am I subtle? Am I a Machivell? 90
Shall I loose my Doctor? No, hee gives me the Potions
and the Motions. Shall I loose my Parson/' my Priest?
my Sir Hugh} No, he gives me the Proverbes, and the
No-verbes. [Give me thy hand, terestiall,* | So.]
Give me thy hand (Celestiall) so: Boyes of | Art, J
have deceived you both: I have directed you to |
wrong places; your hearts are mighty, your skinnes are
whole, and let burn'd Sacke be the issue: Come, lay their
swords to pawne: Follow me. Lad of peace, follow, fol-
low, follow.
Shal. Trust me, a mad Host: follow Gentlemen, fol-
low. 1 01
Slen. [Aside~\ O sweet Jnne Page.
[Exeunt Shal., Slen., Page, and Host. "]
Cai. Ha* do I perceive dat? Have you make-a-de-sot
of us, ha, ha?
Eva. This is well, he has made us his vlowting-stog:
I desire you that we may be friends: and let us knog our
praines together to be revenge on this same scall-scur-
vy-cogging-companion the Host of the Garter. 108
Cai. By gar, with all my heart: he promise to bring
me where is Anne Page: by gar he deceive me too.
Evan. Well, I will smite his noddles: pray you follow.
[Exeunt.'\
89-90. prose-PoPK. 90. Machivell: Machiavel-aRowK.
94. bracketed words-Qg.' a tereuiall: terrestrial-THEOBALD.
98. Lad: lads-Q2.
45
III. ii. 1-29] THE MERRY WIVES
Scena Secunda.
[A street.']
Mist. Page, Robin, Ford, Page, Shallow, Slender,
Host, I Evans, Caius.
Mist. Page. Nay keepe your way (little Gallant) you
were wont to be a follower, but now you are a Leader:
whether had you rather lead mine eyes, or eye your ma-
sters heeles?
Rob. I had rather (forsooth) go before you like a man,
then follow him like a dwarfe.
M.Pa. O you are a flattering boy, now I see you'l
be a Courtier. | 10
[Enter Ford."]
Ford. Well met mistris Page, whether go you.
M. Pa. Truly Sir, to see your wife, is she at home?
Ford. I, and as idle as she may hang together for want
of company: I thinkeif your husbands were dead, you
two would marry.
M. Pa. Be sure of that, two other husbands.
Ford. Where had you this pretty weather-cocke?
M. Pa. I cannot tell what (the dickens) his name is my
husband had him of, what do you cal your Knights name
sirrah? |
Rob. Sir Jobn Falstaffe. 20
Ford. Sir John Falstaffe.
M. Pa. He, he, I can never hit on' s name ; there is such a
league betweene my goodman, and he: is your Wife at
home indeed? |
Ford. Indeed she is.
M.Pa. By your leave sir, I am sicke till I see her.
[Exeunt Mrs. Page and Robin.]
46
OF WINDSOR [III. ii. 30-60
Ford. Has Page any braines? Hath he any eies/* Hath he
any thinking? Sure they sleepe, he hath no use of them:
why this boy will carrie a letter twentie mile as easie, as
a Canon will shoot point-blanke twelve score: hee pee-
ces out his wives inclination: he gives her folly motion
and advantage: and now she's going to my wife, & Fal-
staffes boy with her: A man may heare this showre sing
in the winde; and Fahtaffes boy with her: good plots,
they are laide, and our revolted wives share damnation
together. Well, I will take him, then torture my wife,
plucke the borrowed vaile of modestie from the so-see-
ming Mist. PagCy divulge Page himselfe for a secure and
wilfull ActeoTiy and to these violent proceedings all my
neighbors shall cry aime. \Clock is heard.'] The
clocke gives me my Qu, | and my assurance bids me
search, there I shall finde Fal- | staffe-. I shall be rather
praisd for this, then mockM, for | it is as possitive, as
the earth is firme, that Fahtaffe is | there: I will go.
\Enter Page, Shallow, Slender, Host, Sir Hugh Evans ^
Cqius, and Rugby.']
Shal. Page, ^c. Well met M' Ford. 44
Ford. Trust me, a good knotte; I have good cheere at
home, and I pray you all go with me.
Shal. I must excuse my selfe M' Ford.
Slen. And so must I Sir,
We have appointed to dine with Mistris Anne,
And I would not breake with her for more mony 50
Then He speake of.
Shal. We have lingered about a match betweene An
Page, and my cozen Slender, and this day wee shall have
our answer.
48-51. prose-PopE.
47
III. ii. 61-93] THE MERRY WIVES
Slen. I hope I have your good will Father Page.
Pag. You have M' Slender y I stand wholly for you.
But my wife (M' Doctor) is for you altogether.
Cat. I be-gar, and de Maid is love-a-me: my nursh-
a-Quickly tell me so mush. cq
Host. What say you to yong M' Fenton} He capers,
he dances, he has eies of youth : he writes verses, hee
speakes holliday, he smels April and May, he wil carry' t,
he will carry' t, 'tis in his buttons, he will carry' t.
Page. Not by my consent I promise you. The Gentle-
man is of no having, hee kept companie with the wilde
Prince, and Pointz: he is of too high a Region, he knows
too much: no, hee shall not knit a knot in his fortunes,
with the finger of my substance: if he take her, let him
take her simply : the wealth I have waits on my consent,
and my consent goes not that way. 70
Ford. I beseech you heartily, some of you goe home
with me to dinner: besides your cheere you shall have
sport, I will shew you a monster: M' Doctor, you shal
go, so shall you M' Page, and you Sir Hugh.
Shal. Well, fare you well:
We shall have the fi-eer woing at M' Pages.
[Exif Shal. and Slen.']
Cat. Go home John Rugby, I come anon.
[Exit Rugby.']
Host. Farewell my hearts, I will to my honest Knight
Falstaffe, and drinke Canarie with him. [Exit.]
Ford. [Jside] I thinke I shall drinke in Pipe-wine
first with I him. He make him dance. Will you go.
Gentles? | 81
Jll. Have with you, to see this Monster. Exeuns
56-7. prose-RowE. 66. Foin^: Poins (Poinz)-3-4F.
OF WINDSOR pil. iii. 1-26
Scena Tertia.
[^ room in Ford's house. '\
Enter M. Ford, M. Page, Servants, Robin, Falstaffe,
Ford, Page, Caius, Evans.
Mist. Ford. What John, what Robert.
M,Page. Quickly, quickly: Is the Buck-basket
Mis. Ford. I warrant. What Robin I say.
\Enter Servants with a basket. '\
Mis. Page. Come, come, come.
Mist. Ford. Heere, set it downe. 8
M. Pag. Give your men the charge, we must be briefe,
M. Ford. Marrie,as Itold you before ( John & Robert')
be ready here hard-by in the Brew-house, & when I so-
dainly call you, come forth, and (without any pause, or
staggering) take this basket on your shoulders : that done,
trudge with it in all hast, and carry it among the Whit-
sters in Dotchet Mead, and there empty it in the muddie
ditch, close by the Thames side.
M.Page. You will do it?
M. Ford. I ha told them over and over, they lacke no
direction. |
Be gone, and come when you are call'd.
\_Exeunt Servants."]
M.Page. Here comes little Robin. 20
\^Enter Robin."]
Mist. Ford. How now my Eyas- Musket, 1 what
newes with you? | 1 /itt/e hawk
Rob. My M. Sir John is come in at your backe doore
^Mist. Ford, and requests your company.
15. Dotcbet: Datchet-zRowE.
49
III. iii. 27-64] THE MERRY WIVES
M.Page. You litleJack-a-lent,ihaveyoubintruetous
^(?^. I, Ilebesworne: my Master knowes not of your
being heere: and hath threatned to put me into everla-
sting liberty, if I tell you of it: for he sweares he'll turne
me away. '^puppet
Mist. Pag. Thou'rt a good boy: this secrecy of thine
shall be a Tailor to thee, and shal make thee a new dou-
blet and hose. He go hide me. 3 1
Mi. Ford. Do so: go tell thy Master, I am alone : Mi-
stris Page, remember you your Qu. [^Exit Robin. '\
Mist. Pag. I warrant thee, if I do not act it, hisse me.
[Exit.']
Mist. Ford. Go-too then: we' 1 use this unwholsome
humidity, this grosse-watry Pumpion; we'll teach him
to know Turtles from Jayes.
\_Enter Falstaff.']
Fa I. Havel caught thee, my heavenly Jewell? Why
now let me die, for I have liv'd long enough: This is the
period of my ambition; O this blessed houre. ^''
Mist. Ford. O sweet Sir John.
Fal. Mistris Fordy I cannot cog, 2 1 cannot prate (Mist.
Ford) now shall I sin in my wish; I would thy Husband
were dead. He speake it before the best Lord, I would
make thee my Lady. "^ cheat
Mist. Ford. I your Lady Sir John} Alas, I should bee a
pittifuU Lady.
Fal. Let the Court of France shew me such another:
I see how thine eye would emulate the Diamond: Thou
hast the right arched-beauty of the brow, that becomes
the Ship-tyre,3 the Tyre- valiant, ^ or any Tire of Venetian
admittance. ^fashions in hair-dressing 52
Mist. Ford. A plaine Kerchiefe, Sir John:
My browes become nothing else, nor that well neither.
OF WINDSOR [III. iii. 65-99
Fal. [By the Lord] Thou art a tyrant to say so:
thou wouldst make | an absolute Courtier, and the firme
fixture of thy foote, | would give an excellent motion to
thy gate, in a semi- | circled Farthingale. I see what
thou wert if Fortune thy | foe, were not Nature thy
friend: Come, thou canst not | hide it. 60
Mist, Ford, Beleeve me, ther's no such thing in me.
Fal. What made me love thee? Let that perswade
thee. Ther*s something extraordinary in thee: Come, I
cannot cog, and say thou art this and that, like a-manie
of these lisping-hauthorne buds, that come like women
in mens apparrell, and smell like Bucklers-berry in sim-
ple time: I cannot, but I love thee, none but thee; and
thou deserv'st it.
M. Ford, Do not betray me sir, I fear you love M. Page.
Fal, Thou mightst as well say, I love to walke by the
Counter-gate, which is as hatefull to me, as the reeke of
a Lime-kill. 72
Mis. Ford, Well, heaven knowes how I love you.
And you shall one day finde it.
Fal, Keepe in that minde, lie deserve it.
Mist. Ford: Nay,. I must tell you, so you doe;
Or else I could not be in that minde.
Rob, Mistris Ford, Mistris Ford\ heere's Mistris Page
at I the doore, sweating, and blowing, and looking
wildely, | and would needs speake with you presently.
Fal. She shall not see me, I will ensconce mee behinde
the Arras. 82
M.Ford. Pray you do so, \_Falstaff hides himself.'^
she's a very tatling woman. I
55, bracketed words-Qg. 55. tyrant: traitor-Qjj.
58-9. thy foe y tuere not Nature: thy foe were not, Nature- 2-4?.
73-4. prose-RowE.
5«
III. iii. 100-137] THE MERRY WIVES
[^Re-enter Mistress Page and Robin.']
Whats the matter? How now?
Mist. Page. O mistris Ford what have you done?
You'r sham' d,y' are overthrowne, y'are undone for ever.
M.Ford. What's the matter, good mistris Page?
M. Page. O weladay,mist. Fordyhdiw'mg an honest man
to your husband, to give him such cause of suspition.
M.Ford. What cause of suspition? 90
M.Page. What cause of suspition? Out upon you:
How am I mistooke in you?
M.Ford. Why (alas) what's the matter?
M.Page. Your husband' scomming hether (Woman)
with all the Officers in Windsor, to search for a Gentle-
man, that he sayes is heere now in the house; by your
consent to take an ill advantage of his absence; you are
undone.
M.Ford. 'Tis not so, I hope. 99
M. Page. Pray heaven it be not so, that you have such
a man heere: but 'tis most certaine your husband's com-
ming, with halfe Windsor at his heeles, to serch for such
a one, I come before to tell you: If you know your selfe
cleere, why I am glad of it: but if you have a friend here,
convey, convey him out. Be not amaz'd, call all your
senses to you, defend your reputation, or bid farwell to
your good life for ever.
M. Ford. What shall I do? There is a Gentleman my
deere friend: and I feare not mine owne shame so much,
as his perill. I had rather then a thousand pound he were
out of the house. 1 1 1
M. Page. For shame, never stand (you had rather, and
you had rather:) your husband's heere at hand, bethinke
you of some conveyance: in the house you cannot hide
him. Oh, how have you deceiv'd me? Looke, heere is a
91-a. prose-RowE.
OF WINDSOR [III. iii. 137-170
basket, if he be of any reasonable stature, he may creepe
in heere, and throw fowle linnen upon him, as if it were
going to bucking ;! Or it is whiting^ time, send him by
your two men to Z)tf/ri'^/- Meade, '^bleaching '^washing
M. Ford. He's too big to go in there: what shall I do?
Fal. [Coming forward'] Let me see't, let me see' t,
0 let me see't: | 121
He in. He in: Follow your friends counsell. He in.
M. Page. What Sir John Faistaffet Are these your Let-
ters, Knight?
Fal. I love thee, helpe meeaway: let me creepe in
heere: ile never
\Gets into the basket; they cover him with foul linen.']
M.Page. Helpe to cover your master (Boy:) Call
your men (Mist. Ford.) You dissembling Knight.
M.Ford. What John, Robert, John; [Exit Robin.
Re-enter Servants.] Go, take up these | cloathes heere,
quickly: Wher's the Cowle-stafFe/* Look | how you
drumble^? Carry them to the Landresse in Dat- | chet
mead: quickly, come. | ^dawdle 132
\Enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Sir Hugh Evans.]
Ford. 'Pray you comenere: if I suspect without cause.
Why then make sport at me, then let me be your jest,
1 deserve it: How now/* Whether beare you this?
Ser. To the Landresse forsooth?
M. Ford. Why, what have you to doe whether they
beare it? You were best meddle with buck-washing.
Ford. Buckr* I would I could wash my selfe of the
Buck: I
Bucke, bucke, bucke, Ibucke: I warrant you Bucke,
And of the season too; it shall appeare. 141
[^Exeunt Servants with the basket.]
123. Fahtaffe: Falstaff-2-4F. 1 39-41- prose-RowE.
53
III. iii. 171-206] THE MERRY WIVES
Gentlemen, I have dreamM to night. He tell you my
dreame: heere, heere, heere bee my keyes, ascend my
Chambers, search, seeke, finde out: He warrant wee'le
unkennellthe Fox. Let me stop this way first: [Locking
the door^ so, now | uncape.
Page. Good master Fordy be contented:
You wrong your selfe too much.
Ford. True (master Page) up Gentlemen,
You shall see sport anon: 1 50
Follow me Gentlemen. [^at/V.]
Evans. This is fery fantasticall humors and jealousies.
Caius. By gar, 'tis no-the fashion of France:
It is not jealous in France.
Page. Nay follow him (Gentlemen) seethe yssue of
his search. [Exeunt Page, Caius y and Evans. ~^
Mist. Page Is there not a double excellency in this?
Mist. Ford. I know not which pleases me better.
That my husband is deceived, or Sir John.
Mist. Page. What a taking was hee in, when your
husband askt who was in the basket? 161
Mist. Ford. I am halfe affraid he will have neede of
washing: so throwing him into the water, will doe him
a benefit.
Mist. Page. Hang him dishonest rascall: I would all
of the same straine, were in the same distresse.
Mist. Ford. I thinke my husband hath some special!
suspition of Falstaffs being heere: for I never saw him so
grosse in hisjealousie till now. 169
Mist. Page. I will lay a plot to try that, and wee will
yet have more trickes with Falstaffe: his dissolute disease
will scarse obey this medicine.
Mis. Ford. Shall we send that foolishion Carion, Mist.
158-9. prose-Rows. ly^. foolishion: foolish-2-4F.
54
OF WINDSOR [III. iii. 206-243
^ickly to him, and excuse his throwing into the water,
and give him another hope, to betray him. to another
punishment?
Mist. Page. We will do it: let him be sent for tomor-
row eight a clocke to have amends.
[Re-enter Ford, Page, Caius, and Evans. "^
Ford. I cannot findehim: may be the knave braggM
of that he could not compasse. 180
Mis. Page. [Aside to Mrs. Ford'\ Heard you that?
Mis. Ford. You use me well, M. Ford} Do you?
Ford. I, I do so.
M. Ford. Heaven make you better then your thoghts
Ford. Amen.
Mi. Page. You do your selfe mighty wrong ( M . Ford )
Ford. I, I: I must beare it.
Ev. If there be any pody in the house, & in the cham-
bers, and in the coffers, and in the presses: heaven for-
give my sins at the day of judgement. 190
Caius. Be gar, nor I too: there is no-bodies.
Page. Fjyfy, M.Ford, arc younotashemMr' What spi-
rit, what divell suggests this imagination? I wold not ha
your distemper in this kind, for the welth of Windsor castle.
Ford. 'Tis my fault (M. Page) I suffer for it.
Evans. You suffer for a pad conscience : your wife is
as honest a o*mans, as I will desires among five thou-
sand, and five hundred too.
Cai. By gar, I see 'tis an honest woman. 199
Ford. Well, I promisd you a dinner: come, come, walk
in the Parke, I pray you pardon me: I wil hereafter make
knowne to you why I have done this. Come wife, come
Mi. Page, I pray you pardon me. Pray hartly pardon me.
19a. asbvm^d: a8hain'd-2-4F. 203. bartly: heartily-4F.
55
III. iii. 2444v. 13] THE MERRY WIVES
Page. Let's go in Gentlemen, but (trust me) we' 1 mock
him: I doe invite you to morrow morning to my house
to breakfast: after we'll a Birding together, I have a fine
Hawke for the bush. Shall it be so:
Ford. Any thing.
Ev. If there is one, I shall make two in the Companie
Ca. If there be one, or two, I shall make-a-theturd.
Ford. Pray you go, M. Page. 211
Eva. I pray you now remembrance to morrow on the
lowsie knave, mine Host.
Cat. Dat is good by gar, withall my heart.
Eva, A lowsie knave, to have his gibes, and his moc-
keries. Exeunt.
Scosna Quarta.
[^ room in Page* s house. "^
Enter Fenton, Anne, Pagey Shallozv, Slender,
Quickly, Pagey Mist. Page.
Fen: I see I cannot get thy Fathers love.
Therefore no more turne me to him (sweet Nan.)
Anne. Alas, how thenf
Fen. Why thou must be thy selfe.
He doth object, I am too great of birth,
And that my state being gall'd with my expence,
I seeke to heale it onely by his wealth. 10
Besides these, other barres he layes before me.
My Riots past, my wilde Societies,
And tels me 'tis a thing impossible
I should love thee, but as a property. ^
An. May be he tels you true.
[Fent.'\ No, heaven so speed me in my time to come.
Albeit I will confesse, thy Fathers wealth
S6
OF WINDSOR [III. iv. 14-44
Was the first motive that I wooM thee (^Anne:')
Yet wooing thee, I found thee of more valew
Then stampes in Gold, or summes in sealed bagges: 20
And 'tis the very riches of thy selfe.
That now I ayme at.
An. Gentle M. Fenton,
Yet seeke my Fathers love, still seeke it sir.
If opportunity and humblest suite
Cannot attaine it, why then harke you hither.
\The^ converse apart. '\
\Enter Shallow, Slender, and Mistress Quickly."]
Shal. Breake their talke Mistris Quickly,
My Kinsman shall speake for himselfe.
Slen. He make a shaft or a bolt on' t, slid, tis but ventu-
ring. I
Shal. Be not dismaid. 30
Slen. No, she shall not dismay me:
I care not for that, but that I am afFeard.
Qui. Hark ye, M. 5/^»^^r would speak a word with you
An. I come to him. This is my Fathers choice:
\Aside\ O what a world of vilde ill-favour' d faults
Lookes handsome in three hundred pounds a yeere?
Qui. And how do's good Master Fentoni
Pray you a word with you.
Shal. Shee's comming; to her Coz:
O boy, thou hadst a father. 40
Slen. I had a father (M.An) my uncle can tel you good
jests of him: pray you Uncle, tel Mist. Anne the jest how
my Father stole two Geese out of a Pen, good Unckle.
Shal. Mistris Anne, my Cozen loves you.
Slen. I that I do, as well as I love any woman in Glo-
cestershire.
57
III. iv. 45-78] THE MERRY WIVES
Shal. He will maintaine you like a Gentlewoman.
8len. I that I will, come cut and long-taile, under the
degree of a Squire.
Shal. He will make you a hundred and fiftie pounds
joynture. 5 1
Anne. Good Maister Shallow let him woo for him-
selfe.
Shal. Marrie I thanke you for it: I thanke you for
that good comfort: she cals you (Coz) He leave you.
Anne. Now Master Slender.
Slen. Now good Mistris Anne.
Anne. What is your will?
Slen. My will? Odd's-hart-lings, that's a prettie
jest indeede: I ne're made my Will yet (I thanke Hea-
ven:) I am not such a sickely creature, I give Heaven
praise. 62
Anne. I meane ( M. Slender') what wdd you with me?
Sfen. Truely, for mine owne part, I would little or
nothing with you: your father and my uncle hath made
motions: if it be my lucke, so; if not, happy man bee his
dole, they can tell you how things go, better then I can:
you may aske your father, heere he comes.
\Enter Page and Mrs. Page.'\
Page. Now M' Slender \ Love him daughter Anne.
Why how now? What does M*" F enter herer* 70
You wrong me Sir, thus still to haunt my house.
I told you Sir, my daughter is disposd of.
Fen. Nay M" Page, be not impatient.
Mist. Page. Good M. Fenton. come not to my child.
Page. She is no match for you.
Fen. Sir, will you heare me?
70. Fenter: Fenton-(22.2-4F.
58
OF WINDSOR [III. IV. 78-108
Page. No, good M. Fen ton.
Come M. Shallow: Come sonne Slender, in;
Knowing my minde, you wrong me (M.Fenton.')
^Exeunt Page, Shallow, and Slender ^
Qui. Speake to Mistris Page. 80
Fen. Good Mist. Page, for that I love your daughter
In such a righteous fashion as I do.
Perforce, against all checkes, rebukes, and manners,
I must advance the colours of my love.
And not retire. Let me have your good will.
An. Good mother, do not marry me to yond foole.
Mist. Page. I meane it not, I seeke you a better hus-
band.
Qui. That's my master, M. Doctor.
An. Alas I had rather be set quick i'th earth, 90
And bowl'd to death with Turnips.
Mist. Page. Come, trouble not your selfe good M.
Fenton, I will not be your friend, nor enemy:
My daughter will I question how she loves you.
And as I finde her, so am I affected:
Till then, farewell Sir, she must needs go in.
Her father will be angry.
Fen. Farewell gentle Mistris: farewell l^an.
\Exeunt Mrs. Page and Anne.'\
Qui. This is my doing now: Nay, saide I, will you
cast away your childe on a Foole, and a Physitian: 100
Looke on M. Fenton, this is my doing.
Fen. I thanke thee: and I pray thee once to night.
Give my sweet Nan this Ring: there's for thy paines.
Qui. Now heaven send thee good fortune, \Exit
Fenton. '^ a kinde | heart he hath: a woman would run
through fire & wa- | ter for such a kinde heart. But
93. new 1, at I will-2Rowe.
i. 19 59
III. iv. 108-V.22] THE MERRY WIVES
yet, I would my Maister | had Mistris AnnCy or I would
yi. Slender had her: or (in | sooth) I would yi.Fenton
had her; I will do what I can | for them all three, for
so I have promisd, and He bee as | good as my word,
but speciously for M. Fen ton. Well, I | must of an-
other errand to Sir "John Fahtaffe from my two | Mis-
tresses: what a beast am I to slacke it. | Exeunt 1 12
Scena Quinta.
^A room in the Garter Inn.~\
Enter Fahtaffe^ Bardolfe, Quickly, Ford,
Fa I. Bardolfe I say.
Bar. Heere Sir.
Fal. Go, fetch me a quart of Sacke, put a tost in't.
{Exit Bardolph.']
Have I liv'd to be carried in a Basket Hke a barrow of
butchers OfFall? and to be throwne in the Thames/' Wei,
if I be serv'd such another tricke. He have my braines
'tane out and butter' d, and give them to a dogge for a
New-yeares gift. The rogues slighted me into the river
with as little remorse, as they would have drown' de a
blinde bitches Puppies, fifteene i'th litter: and you may
know by my size, that I have a kinde of alacrity in sink-
ing: if the bottome were as deepe as hell, I shold down.
I had beene drown' d, but that the shore was shelvy and
shallow : a death that I abhorre : for the water swelles a
man; and what a thing should I have beene, when I
had beene swel'd? I should have beene a Mountaine of
Mummie.
[Re-enter Bardolph with sack,"]
Bar. Here's M. Quickly Sir to speake with you. 20
Fal. Come, let me poure in some Sack to the Thames
60
OF WINDSOR [III. V. 22-56
water: for my bellies as cold as if I had swallow' d snow-
bals, for pilles to coole the reines. Call her in.
Bar. Come in woman.
\_Enter Mistress Quick/y.']
Qui. By your leave: I cry you mercy.?
Give your worship good morrow.
Fa I. Take away these Challices:
Go, brew me a pottle of Sacke finely.
Bard. With Egges, Sir? 29
Fal. Simple of it selfe:Ileno Pullet- Spersme in my
brewage. How now? \^Exit Bardolph.~\
Qui. Marry Sir, I come to your worship from M. Ford.
Fal. Mist. FordPl have had Ford enough : I was thrown
into the Ford; I have my belly full of Ford.
Qui. Alas the day, (good-heart) that was not her
fault: she do*s so take on with her men; they mistooke
their erection.
Fal. So did I mine, to build upon a foolish Womans
promise. | 38
Qui. Well, she Jaments Sir for it, that it would yern
your heart to see it: her husband goes this morning a
birding; she desires you once more to come to her, be-
tweene eight and nine: I must carry her word quickely,
she'll make you amends I warrant you.
Fal. Well, I will visit her, tell her so: and bidde her
thinke what a-man is: Let her consider his frailety, and
then judge of my merit.
Qui. I will tell her.
Fal. Do so. Betweene nine and ten saist thou?
Qui. Eight and nine Sir.
Fal. Well, be gone: I will not misse her. 50
25-8. prose-PoPE. 30, Spersme: sperm (sperme)-Q2.a-4F.
61
III. V. 57-92] THE MERRY WIVES
Qui. Peace be with you Sir. [^at//.]
Fa/. I mervaile I heare not of M' Broome : he sent me
word to stay within: I like his money well.
Oh, heere be comes.
[^E titer Ford.']
Ford. Blesse you Sir.
Fal. Now M. Broome, you come to know
What hath past betweene me, and Fords wife.
Ford. That indeed (Sir John^ is my businesse.
Fal, M. Broome I will not lye to you,
I was at her house the houre she appointed me. 60
Ford. And sped you Sir?
Fal. very ill-favouredly M. Broome.
Ford. How so sir, did she change her determination?
Fal. No (M.Broome) but the peaking Curnuto herhus-
band (^M. Broome) dwelling in a continual larum ofjelou-
sie, coms me in the instant of our encounter, after we had
embrast, kist, protested, & (as it were) spoke the prologue
of our Comedy: and at his heeles, a rabble of his compa-
nions, thither provoked and instigated by his distemper,
and (forsooth) to serch his house for his wives Love. 70
Ford. What.? While you were there?
Fal. While I was there.
For. And did he search for you, & could not find you?
Fal. You shall heare. As good lucke would have it,
comes in one Mist. Page, gives intelligence of Fords ap-
proch: and in her invention, and Fords wives distraction,
they convey' d me into a bucke-basket.
Ford. A Buck-basket? 78
Fal. Yes: a Buck-basket: ram'd mee in with foule
Shirts and Smockes, Socks, foule Stockings, greasie
54, he: he-3-4F.
70. wives: wife's-RowE.
56-7. prose-RowE.
79. Tei: a: By the Lord, a-gg.
62
OF WINDSOR [III. V. 92-126
Napkins, that (Master Broome') there was the rankest
compound of villanous smell, that ever offended no-
strill.
Ford. And how long lay you there? 84
Fal. Nay, you shall heare (Master Broome) what I
have sufferd, to bring this woman to evill, for your
good: Being thus cram'd in the Basket, a couple of
Fords knaves, his Hindes, were cald forth by their Mi-
stris, to carry mee in the name of foule Cloathes to
Datchet-lane-. they tooke me on their shoulders: met
the jealous knave their Master in the doore; who
ask'd them once or twice what they had in their Bas-
ket? I quak'd for feare least the Lunatique Knave
would have searched it: but Fate (ordaining he should
be a Cuckold) held his hand: well, on went hee, for
a search, and away went I for foule Cloathes: But
marke the sequell (Master Broome) I suffered the pangs
of three severall deaths: First, an intolerable fright,
to be detected with a jealious rotten Bell-weather;
Next to be compass' d like a good Bilbo in the circum-
ference of a Pecke, hilt to point, heele to head. And
then to be stopt in like a strong distillation with stink-
ing Cloathes, that fretted in their owne grease:
thinke of that, a man of my Kidney; thinke of that,
that am as subject to heate as butter; a man of conti-
nuall dissolution, and thaw: it was a miracle to scape
suffocation. And in the height of this Bath (when I
was more then halfe stew'd in grease (like a Dutch-
dish) to be throwne into the Thames, and
coold, glowing-hot, in that serge like a Horse-
shoo; thinke of that; hissing hot: thinke of that (Master
Broome. ) 112
Ford. In good sadnesse Sir, I am sorry, that for my sake
you have sufferd all this.
III. V. 126-155] THE MERRY WIVES
My suite then is desperate: You'll undertake her no
more?
Fal, Master Broome: I will be throwne into EtnOf
as I have beene into Thames, ere I will leave her thus;
her Husband is this morning gone a Birding: I
have received from her another ambassie of mee-
ting; 'twixt eight and nine is the houre (Master
Broome.^ 122
Ford. 'Tis past eight already Sir.
Fal. Is it? I will then addresse mee to my appoint-
ment: Come to mee at your convenient leisure, and
you shall know how I speede: and the conclusion
shall be crowned with your enjoying her: adiew; you
shall have her (Master Broome^MsLStcr Broome, you shall
cuckold F(S?r^. 129
Ford. Hum: ha? Is this a vision? Is this a dreame/*
doe I sleepe? Master Ford awake, awake Master Ford\
ther's a hole made in your best coate (Master Ford:') this
'tis to be married; this 'tis to have Lynnen, and Buck-
baskets: Well, I will proclaime my selfe what I am:
I will now take the Leacher: hee is at my house: hee
cannot scape me: 'tis impossible hee should: hee can-
not creepe into a halfe-penny purse, nor into a Pepper-
Boxe: But least the Divell that guides him, should
aide him, I will search impossible places: though
what I am, I cannot avoide; yet to be what I would
not, shall not make me tame: If I have homes, to make
one mad, let the proverbe goe with me. He be horne-
mad. Exeunt. 1 43
OF WINDSOR [IV. i, 1-34
Actus Quarfus, Sccena Prima.
[^A street.']
Enter Mistris Page, Quickly, William, Evans.
Mist. Pag. Is he at M. Fords already think'st thou?
Qui. Sure he is by this; or will be presently; but
truely he is very couragious mad, about his throwing
into the water. Mistris Ford desires you to come so-
dainely.
Mist. Pag. He be with her by and by: He but bring
my yong-man here to Schoole: looke where his Master
comes; 'tis a playing day I see: [^Enter Sir Hugh Ev-
ans.] how now Sir Hugh, no | Schoole to day? 1 1
Eva. No : Master Slender is let the Boyes leave to play.
Qui. 'Blessing of his heart.
Mist. Pag. Sir Hugh, my husband saies my sonne pro-
fits nothing in the world at his Booke: I pray you aske
him some questions in his Accidence.
Ev. Come hither William\ hold up your head; come.
Mist. Pag. Come-on Sirha; hold up your head; an-
swere your Master, be not afraid.
Eva. William, how many Numbers is in Nownes?
Will. Two. 21
Qui. Truely, I thought there had bin one Number
more, bepause they say od's-Nownes.
Eva. Peace, your tatlings. What is ( Faire) William?
Will. Pulcher.
Qu. Powlcats/* there are fairer things then Powlcats,
sure.
Eva. You are a very simplicity o'man: I pray you
peace. What is (^Lapis) William^
Will. A Stone. 30
Eva. And what is a Stone ( William?)
65
IV. i. 35.70] THE MERRY WIVES
Will. A Peeble.
Eva. No; it is Lapis: I pray you remember in your
praine.
Will. Lapis.
Eva. That is a good William : what is he ( William') that
do's lend Articles.
Will. Articles are borrowed of the Pronoune; and be
thus declined. Singular iter nominativo hicy htec^ hoc.
Eva. Nominativo higyhagyhog: pray you marke : ^^/?/-
tivo hujus: Well: what is your Accusative-case} 41
Will. Accusative hinc.
Eva. I pray you have your remembrance (childe) ^f-
cusativo hingy hangy hog.
Qu. Hang-hog, is latten for Bacon, I warrant you.
Eva. Leave your prables (o'man) What is the Foca-
tive case ( William}')
Will. O, Vocativoy O.
Eva. Remember Williamy Focative, is caret.
Qu. And that's a good roote. 50
Eva. O'man, for beare.
Mist. Pag. Peace.
Eva: What is your Genitive case plurall ( William})
Will. Genitive case}
Eva. I.
Will, Genitive horumy harumy horum.
Qu. 'Vengeance of Ginyes case; fie on her; never
name her (childe) if she be a whore.
Eva. For shame o'man. 59
Qu. You doe ill to teach the childe such words: hee
teaches him to hie, and to hac; which they'll doe fast
enough of themselves, and to call horum-y fie upon you.
33. remember: remember— 2-4F.
45. latten: Latin ( Latine)-3-4F.
57. Ginyes: Jenny'a-CAPELL.
66
OF WINDSOR [IV. i. 71-ii. 11
Evans. O'man, art thou Lunatics? Hast thou no un-
derstandings for thy Cases, & the numbers of the Gen-
ders? Thou art as foolish Christian creatures, as I would
desires.
Mi. Page. Pre' thee hold thy peace.
^'e'.Shew me now( ^///y^/?z) some declensions of your
Pronounes.
Will. Forsooth, I have forgot. 70
Ev. It is Quiy qucy quod; if you forget your Quies^
your Quesy and your Quods y you must be preaches : Goe
your waies and play, go. 1 ready
M. Pag. He is a better scholler then I thought he was.
Ev. He is a good spragi-memory : Farewel Mis. Page.
Mis. Page. Adieu good Sir Hugh: [Exit Sir Hugh. ]
Get you home boy. Come we stay too long. Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
[A room in Ford* s house. '\
Enter Falstoffe, Mist. Ford, Mist. Page^ Servants,
Fordy I Page, Caius, Evans, Shallow.
Fal. Mi. Fordy Your sorrow hath eaten up my suffe-
rance; I see you are obsequious in your love, and I pro-
fesse requitall to a haires bredth, not onely Mist. Ford,
in the simple office of love, but in all the accustrement,
complement, and ceremony of it; But are you sure of
your husband now?
Mis. Ford. Hee's a birding (sweet Sir John.) 10
Mis. Page. [Within'^ What hoa, gossip jF(?r^: what
hoa. I
Mis. Ford. Step into th' chamber. Sir John.
[Exit FalstaJ.]
63. Lunatics: lunatics (lunaticks)-CAPELL.
71-2. fuf .. S^es: qux .. quaes-PoPK.
67
IV. ii. 12-46] THE MERRY WIVES
[^Enter Mistress Page."]
Mis. Page. How now (sweete heart) whose at home
besides your selfe?
Mis Ford. Why none but mine owne people.
Mis. Page. Indeed?
Mis. Ford. No certainly: \_Jside to ber"] Speake
louder, j
Mist. Pag. Truly, I am so glad you have nobody here.
Mist. Ford. Why? 19
Mis. Page. Why woman, your husband is in his olde
lines againe: he so takes on yonder with my husband, so
railes against all married mankinde; so curses all Ez^es
daughters, of what complexion soever; and so bufFettes
himselfe on the for-h^ad: crying peere-out, peere-out,
that any madnesse I ever yet beheld, seem'd but tame-
nesse, civility, and patience to this his distemper he is in
now: I am glad the fat Knight is not heere.
Mist. Ford. Why, do*s he talke of him? 28
Mist. Page. Of none but him, and sweares he was ca-
ried out the last time hee search' d for him, in a Basket:
Protests to my husband he is now heere, & hath drawne
him and the rest of their company from their sport, to
make another experiment of his suspition: But I am glad
the Knight is not heere; now he shall see his owne foo-
lerie.
Mist. Ford. How neere is he Mistris Page?
Mist. Pag. Hard by, at street end; he wil be here
anon. |
Mist. Ford. I am undone, the Knight is heere. 38
Mist. Page. Why then you are utterly shamM,&hee's
but a dead man. What a woman are you? Away with
him, away with him: Better shame, then murther.
ai. lines: lunes-TnEOBALD.
OF WINDSOR [IV. ii. 47-77
Mist. Ford. Which way should he go? How should I
bestow him? Shall I put him into the basket againe?
[Re-enter Falstaff.']
Fa I. No, He come no more i'th Basket:
May I not go out ere he comer*
Mist. Page. Alas: three of M"". Fords brothers watch
the doore with Pistols, that none shall issue out: other-
wise you might slip away ere hee came: But what make
you heerer* 49
Fal. What shall I do? He creepe up into the chimney.
Mist. Ford. There they alwaies use to discharge their
Birding-peeces: creepe into the Kill-hole.
Fal. Where is it?
Mist. Ford. He will seeke there on my word : Ney ther
Presse, Coffer, Chest, Trunke, Well, Vault, but he hath
an abstract for the remembrance of such places, and goes
to them by his Note: There is no hiding you in the
house.
Fal. He go out then. 59
Mist. Ford. \^Page~\ If y ou goe out in your owne sem-
blance, I you die Sir John, unlesse you go out disguis'd.
Mist. Ford. How might we disguise him.?
Mist. Page. Alas the day I know not, there is no wo-
mans gowne bigge enough for him: otherwise he might
put on a hat, a muffler, and a kerchiefe, and so escape.
Fal. Good hearts, devise something: any extremitie,
rather then a mischiefe.
Mist. Ford. My Maids Aunt the fat woman oi Brain-
ford y has a gowne above. 69
Mist. Page. On my word it will serve him: shee*s as
big as he is: and there's her thrum* d^ hat, and her muf-
fler I too: run up Sir John. ^ tufted
68-9, 78-9, etc. Brainford: Brentford-Qfi.
69
IV. ii. 78-105] THE MERRY WIVES
Mist. Ford. Go, go, sweet Sir John: Mistriis Page
and I I will looke some linnen for your head.
Mist. Page. Quicke, quicke, wee'le come dresse you
straight: put on the gowne the while.
[Exit Falstaff.']
Mist. Ford. I would my husband would meete him
in this shape: he cannot abide the old woman of Brain-
ford; he sweares she's a witch, forbad her my house, and
hath threatned to beate her. 80
Mist. Page. Heaven guide him to thy husbands cud-
gell: and the divell guide his cudgell afterwards.
Mist. Ford. But is my husband comming?
Mist.PagL I in g6od sadnesse is he, and talkes of the
basket too, howsoever he hath had intelligence.
Mist. Ford. Wee'l try that: for He appoint my men to
carry the basket againe, to meete him at the doore with
it, as they did last time.
Mist. Page. Nay, but hee'l be heere presently : let'sgo
dresse him like the witch o'i Brainford. 90
Mist. Ford. He first direct direct my men, what they
shall doe with the basket: Goe up. He bring linnen for
him straight. \Exit.'\
Mist. Page. Hang him dishonest Varlet,
We cannot misuse enough:
We'll leave a proofe by that which we will doo.
Wives may be merry, and yet honest too:
We do not acte that often, jest, and laugh,
'Tis old, but true. Still Swine eats all the draugh. 99
lExit.'\
73. Mistriis: Mistres8-2-4F. 91. direct direct: direct-2-4F.
95, misuse enough: misuse him enough-2-4F.
99, draugh: draff-CAPKLL.
70
OF WINDSOR [IV. ii. 106-142
\_Re -enter Mrs. Ford with two Servants. ~\
Mist. Ford. Go Sirs, take the basket againe on your
shoulders: your Master is hard at doore: if hee bid you
set it downe, obey him: quickly, dispatch. [JS';r//.]
1 Ser. Come, come, take it up.
2 Ser. Pray heaven it be not full of Knight againe.
I Ser. I hope not, I had liefe as beare so much lead.
[Enter Fordy Page, Shallow , Caiusy and Sir Hugh
Evans.'j
Ford. I, but if it prove true ( M'. Page) have you any
way then to unfoole me againe. Set downe the basket
villaine: some body call my wife: Youth in a basket:
Oh you Panderly Rascals, there's a knot: a gin,ia packe,
a conspiracie against me: Now shall the divel be sham'd.
What wife I say: Come, come forth: behold what ho-
nest cloathes you send forth to bleaching, l gang 1 1 2
Page. Why, this passes M. Ford: you are not to goe
loose any longer, you must be pinnion'd.
Evans. Why, {his is Lunaticks: this is madde, as a
mad dogge.
Shall. Indeed M. Ford, thi is not well indeed.
Ford. So say I too Sir, come hither Mistris Fordy Mi-
stris Fordy the honest woman, the modest wife, the vertu-
ous creature,that hath the jealious foole to her husband:
I suspect without cause (Mistris) do I? 121
Mist. Ford. Heaven be my witnesse you doe, if you
suspect me in any dishonesty.
Ford. Well said Brazon-face, hold it out: Come forth
sirrah. [Pulling clothes out of the basket."^
105. liefe as: as lief-2-4F 109. girt: ging-2-4F.
117. tbi: this-2-4F.
71
IV. ii. 143- (82] THE MERRY WIVES
Page. This passes.
Mist. Ford. Are you not asham' d, let the cloths alone.
Ford. I shall finde you anon.
Eva. 'Tis unreasonable; will you take up your wives
cloathes? Come, away. 130
Ford. Empty the basket I say.
M.Ford. Why man, why/*
Ford. Master Page, as I am a man, there was onecon-
vay'd out of my house yesterday in this basket: why
may not he be there againe, in my house I am sure he is:
my Intelligence is true, my jealousie is reasonable, pluck
me out all the linnen.
Mist. For d.lf you find a man there, he shall dye a Fleas
death.
Page. Heer's no man. 140
Sba/. By my fidelity this is not well M'. Ford: This
wrongs you.
Evans. M' Ford, you must pray, and not follow the
imaginations of your owne heart: this is jealousies.
Ford. Well, hee's not heere I seeke for.
Page. No, nor no where else but in your braine.
Ford. Helpe to search my house this one time: if I find
not what I seeke, shew no colour for my extremity : Let
me forever be your Table-sport: Let them say of me, as
jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow Wall-nut for his
wives Lemman. Satisfie me once more, once more serch
with me. 152
M.Ford. What hoa (Mistris Page,) come you and
the old woman downe: my husband will come into the
Chamber.
Ford. Old woman? what old womans that?
M. Ford. Why it is my maids Aunt of Brainford.
Ford. A witch, a Queane, an olde couzening queane:
Have I not forbid her my house. She comes of errands
7»
OF WINDSOR [IV. ii. 182-213
do's she/' We are simple men, wee doe not know what's
brought to passe under the profession of Fortune-telling.
She workes by Charmes, by Spels, by th' Figure, & such
dawbry as this is, beyond our Element: wee know no-
thing. Come downe you Witch, you Hagge you, come
downe I say. 165
Mist. Ford. Nay, good sweet husband, good Gentle-
men, let him strike the old woman.
[Re-enter Falstaff in woman* s clothes y and Mistress
Page.-]
Mist. Page. Come mother Prat, Come give me your
hand. 169
Ford. He Prat-her: Out of my doore, you Witch,
you Ragge, you Baggage, you Poulcat, you Runnion,
out, out: He conjure you. He fortune-tell you.
[Exit Falstaff.']
Mist. Page. Are you not asham'd?
I thinke you have kill'd the poore woman.
Mist. Ford. Nay he will do it, 'tis a goodly credite
for you.
Ford. Hang her witch.
Eva. By yea, and no, I thinke the o'man is a witch in-
deede: I like not when a o'man has a great peard; I spie
a great peard under his muffler. 1 80
Ford. Will you follow Gentlemen, I beseech you fol-
low: see but the issue of my jealousie: If I cry out thus
upon no traile, never trust me when I open againe.
Page. Let's obey his humour a little further:
Come Gentlemen.
[Exeunt Fordy Page, Shal., Caius, and Evans.]
Mist. Page. Trust me he beate him most pittifully.
171. Ragge: hag-3-4F. I73-4' prose-PoPK.
73
IV. ii. 2i4~m. 6] THE MERRY WIVES
Mist. Ford. Nay by th' Masse that he did not: he beate
him most unpittifully, me thought.
Mist. Page. He have the cudgell hallow' d, and hung
ore the Altar, it hath done meritorious service. 190
Mist. Ford. What thinke you? May we with the war-
rant of woman-hood, and the witnesse of a good consci-
ence, pursue him with any further revenge?
M.Page. The spirit of wantonnesse is sure scar'd out
of him, if the divell have him not in fee-simple, with
fine and recovery, he will never (I thinke) in the way of
waste, attempt us againe.
Mist. Ford. Shall we tell our husbands how wee have
servM him. 199
Mist. Page. Yes, by all meanes: if it be but to scrape
the figures out of your husbands braines: if they can find
in their hearts, the poore unvertuous fat Knight shall be
any further afflicted, wee two will still bee the mini-
sters.
Mist. Ford. He warrant, they'l have him publiquely
sham'd, and me thinkes there would be no period to the
jest, should he not be publikely sham'd.
Mist. Page. Come, to the Forge with it, then shape it :
I would not have things coole. Exeunt 209
Scena Tertia.
\_A room in the Garter Inn.']
Enter Host and Bardolfe.
Bar. Sir, the Germane desires to have three of your
horses: the Duke himselfe will be to morrow at Court,
and they are going to meet him.
Host. What Duke should that be comes so secretly?
3. Germane desires: Germans desire-CAFZLL.
74
OF WINDSOR [IV. iii. 6-iv. 17
I heare not of him in the Court: let mee speake with the
Gentlemen, they speake English?
Bar, I Sir? He call him to you. 9
Host. They shall have my horses, but He make them
pay : He sauce them, they have had my houses a week at
commaund: I have turn'd away my other guests, they
must come off. He sawce them, come. Exeunt
Scena Quarta.
[A room in Ford* s bouse. '\
Enter Page, Ford, Mistris Page, Mistris
Ford, and Evans.
Eva. *Tis one of the best discretions of a o'man as e-
ver I did looke upon.
Page. And did he send you both these Letters at an
instant.?
Mist. Page. Within a quarter of an houre.
Ford. Pardon me (wife) henceforth do what thou wilt:
I rather will suspect the Sunne with gold, 10
Then thee with wantonnes: Now doth thy honor stand
(In him that was of late an Heretike)
As firme as faith.
Page. *Tis well, 'tis well, no more-
Be not as extreme in submission, as in offence.
But let our plot go forward: Let our wives
Yet once againe (to make us publike sport)
Appoint a meeting with this old fat-fellow.
Where we may take him, and disgrace him for it. 19
Ford. There is no better way then that they spoke of.
II. bouses: house-QQ. lo. gold: cold-RowK.
15. new 1. at As in-CAPELL.
i io 75
IV. iv. 18-47] THE MERRY WIVES
Page. How/' to send him word they'll meete him in
the Parke at midnight? Fie, fie, he'll never come.
Ev. You say he has bin throwne in the Rivers: and
has bin greevously peaten, as an old o'man: me-thinkes
there should be terrors in him, that he should not come:
Me-thinkes his flesh is punish' d, hee shall have no de-
sires.
Page. So thinke I too.
M.Ford. Devise but how you'l use him when he
comes, I
And let us two devise to bring him thether. 30
Mis. Page. There is an old tale goes, that Heme the
Hunter (sometime a keeper heere in Windsor Forrest)
Doth all the winter time, at still midnight
Waike round about an Oake, with great rag'd-hornes.
And there he blasts the tree, and takes^ the cattle.
And make milch-kine yeeld blood, and shakes a chaine
In a most hideous and dreadfull manner. '^bewitches
You have heard of such a Spirit, and well you know
The superstitious idle-headed-Eld
Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age 40
This tale of Heme the Hunter, for a truth.
Page. Why yet there want not many that do feare
In deepe of night to walke by this Hemes Oake:
But what of this?
Mist. Ford. Marry this is our devise.
That Falstaffe at that Oake shall meete with us.
Page. Well, let it not be doubted but he'll come.
And in this shape, when you have brought him thether.
What shall be done with him? What is your plot?
Mist.Pa.T\i2X likewise have we thoght upon: & thus:
Nan Page (my daughter) and my little sonne, 5 i
32. new 1. at Sometime-PoPE.
34. rag'd: ragg'd (ragged) -Pope.
76
OF WINDSOR [IV. iv. 48-76
And three or foure more of their growth, wee'ldresse
Like Urchins, Ouphes,i and Fairies, greene and white.
With rounds of waxen Tapers on their heads.
And rattles in their hands; upon a sodaine.
As Falstaffe, she, and I, are newly met, '^changelings
Let them from forth a saw-pit rush at once
With some diffused song: Upon their sight
We two, in great amazednesse will flye:
Then let them all encircle him about, 60
And Fairy-like to pinch the uncleane Knight;
And aske him why that houre of Fairy Revell,
In their so sacred pathes, he dares to tread
In shape prophane.
Ford. And till he tell the truth.
Let the supposed Fairies pinch him, sound.
And burne him with their Tapers.
Mist, Page. The truth being knowne.
We'll all present our selves; dis-horne the spirit.
And mocke him home to Windsor. 70
Ford. The children must
Be practis'd well to this, or they'll nev'r doo't.
Eva. I will teach the children their behaviours : and I
will be like a Jacke-an-Apes also, to burne the Knight
with my Taber.
Ford. That will be excellent.
He go buy them vizards.
Mist. Page. My Nan shall be the Queene of all the
Fairies, finely attired in a robe of white.
Page. That silke will I go buy, and in that time
\^Aside'\
Shall yi. Slender steale my Nan away, 81
And marry her at Eaton: go, send to Fabtaffe %iX2i\^\.
72. nev^r: ne'er-RowE. 76-7. I l.-PoPB.
79. new 1. at Finely-2Rows.
77
IV. iv. ']']-y. ii] THE MERRY WIVES
Ford. Nay, He to him againe in name of Broomey
Hee'l tell me all his purpose: sure hee'l come.
Mist, Page. Feare not you that: Go get us properties
And tricking for our Fayries.
Evans. Let us about it.
It is admirable pleasures, and ferry honest knaveries.
\Exeunt Page, Fordy and Evans. ~\
Mis. Page. Go Mist. Ford,
Send quickly to Sir Johny to know his minde: 90
[Exit Mrs. Ford.]
He to the Doctor, he hath my good will.
And none but he to marry with Nan Page:
That Slender (though well landed) is an Ideot:
And he, my husband best of all affects :
The Doctor is well monied, and his friends
Potent at Court: he, none but he shall have her.
Though twenty thousand worthier come to crave her.
Scena Quinta.
\_A room in the Garter Inn.]
Enter Hosty Simpky Falstaffey Bardolfey EvanSy
Caiusy Quickly.
Host. What wouldst thou have? (Boore^ what? (thick
skin) speake, breathe, discusse: breefe, short, quicke,
snap.
Simp. Marry Sir, I come to speake with Sir John Fal-
staffe from M. Slender. 8
Host. There's his Chamber, his House, his Castle,
his standing-bed and truckle-bed: 'tis painted about
with the story of the Prodigall, fresh and new: go, knock
and call: hee'l speake like an Anthropophaginian unto
thee: Knocke I say.
78
OF WINDSOR [IV. V. 12-43
Simp, There's an olde woman, a fat woman gone up
into his chamber: He be so bold as stay Sir till she come
downe: I come to speake with her indeed.
Host. Ha? A fat woman.? The Knight may be robbM:
He call. Bully-Knight, Bully Sir John: speake from thy
Lungs Military: Art thou there? It is thine Host, thine
Ephesian cals. 20
Fal. [Above^ How now, mine Host?
Host. Here's a Bohemian-Tartar taries the comming
downe of thy fat-woman: Let her descend (Bully) let
her descend: my Chambers are honourable; Fie, priva-
cy? Fie.
[Enter Falstaff.']
Fal. There was (mine Host) an old-fat- woman even
now with me, but she's gone.
Simp. Pray you Sir, was't not the Wise-woman of
Brainford?
Fal. I marry was it (Mussel-shell) what would you
with her? 3 i
Simp. My Master (Sir) my master Slender ^^^nx. to her
seeing her go thorough the streets, to know (Sir^ whe-
ther one iW;7z (Sir) that beguil'd him ofachaine, had the
chaine, or no.
Fal. I spake with the old woman about it.
Sim. And what sayes she, I pray Sir?
Fal. Marry shee sayes, that the very same man that
beguil'd Master Slender of his Chaine, cozon'd him of it.
Simp. I would I could have spoken with the Woman
her selfe, I had other things to have spoken with her
too, from him. 42
Fal. What are they? let us know.
32. {Sir) my master i Sir, Master-STEKVBNS.
IV. V. 44-74] THE MERRY WIVES
Host. I: come: quicke.
Fal. \_Sim.'\ I may not conceale them (Sir.)
Host. Conceale them, or thou di*st.
Sim. Why sir, they were nothing but about Mistris
Anne Page, to know if it were my Masters fortune to
have her, or no.
Fal. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune. 50
Sim. What Sir.?
Fal. To have her, or no: goe; say the woman told
me so.
Sim. May I be bold to say so Sir.?
Fal. I Sir: like who more bold.
Sim. I thanke your worship: I shall make my Master
glad with these ty dings. [^at//.]
Host. Thou are clearkly : thou art clearkly (Sir John^
was there a wise woman with thee.? 59
Fal. I that there was^mine Host) one that hath taught
me more wit, then ever I learn* d before in my life: and
I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my lear-
ning.
[Enter Bardolph.']
Bar. Out alas (Sir) cozonage: meere cozonage.
Host. Where be my horses.? speake well of them var-
letto.
Bar. Run away with the cozoners: for so soone as
I came beyond Eaton, they threw me off, from behinde
one of them, in a slough of myre; and set spurres, and
away; like three Germane-divds; three Doctor Fau-
st asses. 7 1
Host. They are gone but to meete the Duke (villaine)
doe not say they be fled: Germane s are honest men.
58. art: art-lQ.
80
OF WINDSOR [IV. V. 75-106
\_Enfer Sir Hugh Evans. "^
Evan. Where is mine Host}
Host. What is the matter Sir?
Evan. Have a care of your entertainments : there is a
friend of mine come to Towne, tels mee there is three
Cozen-Jermans, that has cozend all the Hosts of Readins,
o^ Maidenhead^ ol Cole-brookey of horses and money: I
tell you for good will (looke you) you are wise, and full
of gibes, and vlouting-stocks: and *tis not convenient
you should be cozoned. Fare you well. \Exit.'\ 8z
^Enter Doctor Caius.~\
Cai. Ver' is mine Host de Jarteeret
Host. Here ( Master Doctor') in perplexitie, and doubt-
full delemma.
Cai. I cannot tell vat is dat: but it is tell-a-me, dat
you make grand preparation for a Duke de Jamanie: by
my trot: der is no Duke that the Court is know, to
come: I tell you for good will: adieu. [^a*//.]
Host. Huy and cry, (villaine) goe: assist me Knight, I
am undone: fly, run: huy, and cry (villaine) I am un-
done. \Exeunt Host and Bard.'\ 92
Fal. I would all the world might be cozond, for I
have beene cozond and beaten too: if it should come
to the eare of the Court, how I have beene transformed;
and how my transformation hath beene washd, and
cudgeld, they would melt mee out of my fat drop by
drop, and liquor Fishermens-boots with me; I warrant
they would whip me with their fine wits, till I were as
crest-falne as a dride-peare: I never prospered, since I
forswore my selfe at Primer 0: well, if my winde were
but long enough [to say my prayers] ; I would repent:
Now? Whence come | you? 103
102. bracketed words-Qg.
IV. V. lo-T-vi. 3] THE MERRY WIVES
^Enter Mistress Quick ly.l^
Qui. From the two parties forsooth.
Fal. The Divell take one partie, and his Dam the
other; and so they shall be both bestowed; I have suf-
fered more for their sakes; more then the villanous in-
constancy of mans disposition is able to beare.
Qui. And have not they suffer' d ? Yes, I warrant ; spe-
ciously one of them; Mistris Ford (good heart) is beaten
blacke and blew, that you cannot see a white spot about
her. 1 1 2
Fal. What telFst thou mee of blacke, and blew? I
was beaten my selfe into all the colours of the Raine-
bow: and I was like to be apprehended for the Witch
of Braineford, but that my admirable dexteritie of wit,
my counterfeiting the action of an old woman deliver' d
me, the knave Constable had set me ith' Stocks, ith' com-
mon Stocks, for a Witch. 1 19
QUi Sir: let me speake with you in your Chamber,
you shall heare how things goe, and (I warrant) to your
content: here is a Letter will say somewhat: (good-
hearts) what a-doe here is to bring you together? Sure,
one of you do's not serve heaven well, that you are so
cross' d .
Fal. Come up into my Chamber. Exeunt.
Scena Sexta.
''^Another room in the Garter Inn."]
Enter Fenton, Host.
Host. Master Fenton^ talke not to mee, my minde is
heavy: I will give over all.
Fen. Yet heare me speake : assist me in my purpose,
82
OF WINDSOR [IV. vi. 4-38
And (as I am a gentleman) ile give thee
A hundred pound in gold, more then your losse.
Host. I will heare you (Master Fenton) and I will (at
the least) keepe your counsell.
Fen. From time to time, I have acquainted you 10
With the deare love I beare to faire Anne Page,
Who, mutually, hath answer' d my affection,
(So farre forth, as her selfe might be her chooser)
Even to my wish; I have a letter from her
Of such contents, as you will wonder at;
The mirth whereof, so larded with my matter.
That neither (singly) can be manifested
Without the shew of both : fat Fahtaffe
Hath a great Scene; the image of the jest
Ile show you here at large (harke good mine Hosti) 20
To night at Hemes- Oke, just 'twixt twelve and one.
Must my sweet Nan present the Faerie- Queenei
The purpose why, is here: in which disguise
While other Jests are something ranke on foote.
Her father hath commanded her to slip
Away with Slender, and with him, at Eaton
Immediately to Marry: She hath consented: Now Sir,
Her Mother, (even strong against that match
And firme for Doctor Cains') hath appointed
That he shall likewise shuffle her away, 30
While other sports are tasking of their mindes.
And at the Deanry, where a Priest attends
Strait marry her: to this her Mothers plot
She seemingly obedient) likewise hath
Made promise to the Doctor: Now, thus it rests^
Her Father meanes she shall be all in white;
And in that habit, when Slender sees his time
To take her by the hand, and bid her goe.
She shall goe with him: her Mother hath intended
83
IV. vi. 39-V. i. 1 1] THE MERRY WIVES
(The better to devote her to the Doctor; 40
For they must all be maskM, and vizarded)
That quaint in greene, she shall be loose en-roab'd.
With Ribonds-pendant, flaring 'bout her head;
And when the Doctor spies his vantage ripe.
To pinch her by the hand, and on that token.
The maid hath given consent to go with him.
Host. Which meanes she to deceive? Father, or Mo-
ther.
Fen. Both (my good Host) to go along with me:
And heere it rests, that you'l procure the Vicar 50
To stay for me at Church, 'twixt twelve, and one.
And in the lawfull name of marrying.
To give our hearts united ceremony.
Host. Well, husband your device; He to the Vicar,
Bring you the Maid, you shall not lacke a Priest.
Fen. So shall I evermore be bound to thee;
Besides, He make a present recompence. Exeunt
Actus Quintus. Sccena Prima,
[A room in the Garter Inn.'\
Enter Falstoffe^ Quickly, and Ford.
Fa I. Pre* thee no more pratling: go. He hold, this is
the third time: I hope good lucke lies in odde numbers:
Away, go, they say there is Divinity in odde Numbers,
either in nativity, chance, or death: away.
Qai. He provide you a chaine, and He do what I can
to get you a paire of homes. 8
Fall. Away I say, time weares, hold up your head &
mince. \Exit Mrs. Quick ly.'\ [^Enter Ford.'\ How
now M.Broome? Msisier Broome, the mat- | ter will be
40. devote: denote-CAPELL. 7. ^i.: Quick. (Qui. )-2-^F.
84
OF WINDSOR [V. i. i2-ii. 8
knowne to night, or never. Bee you in the | Parke about
midnight, at Hernes-Oake, and you shall | see wonders.
Ford. Went you not to her yesterday (Sir) as you told
me you had appointed? 15
Fal. I went to her (Master Broome) as you see, like a
poore-old-man, but I came from her (Master Broome)
like a poore-old -woman; that same knave (^FordVxx hus-
band) hath the finest mad divell of jealousie in him (Ma-
ster Broome) that ever govern' d Frensie. I will tell you,
he beate me greevously, in the shape of a woman: (for in
the shape of Man (Master Broome) I feare not Goliah
with a Weavers beame, because I know also, life is a
Shuttle) I am in hast, go along with mee. He tell you all
(Master Broome:) since I pluckt Geese, plaide Trewant,
and whipt Top, I knew not what 'twas to be beaten, till
lately. Follow mee. He tell you strange things of this
knave Ford, on whom to night I will be revenged, and 1
will deliver his wife into your hand. FoUow, straunge
things in hand (M. Broome) follow. Exennt. 30
Scena Secunda.
[Windsor Park.'\
Enter Page^ Shallow y Slender.
Page. Come, come: wee' 11 couch i'th Castle-ditch,
till we see the light of our Fairies. Remember son Slen-
der, my [daughter]
Slcn. I forsooth, I have spoke with her, & we have
a nay-word, how to know one another. I come to her
in white, and cry Mum; she cries Budget, and by that
we know one another. 9
16. Broome: misprint iF. only. 30. Exennt: Exeunt-2-4F.
5. bracketed word-2-4F. 6. Slcn.: Slen.-2-4F.
85
V. ii. 9-m. 22] THE MERRY WIVES
ShaL That's good too; But what needes either your
Mum, or her Budget? The white will decipher her well
enough. It hath strooke ten a'clocke.
Page. The night is darke. Light and Spirits will be-
come it wel: Heaven prosper our sport. No man means
evill but the devill, and we shal know him by his homes.
Lets away: follow me. Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
[A street leading to the Park."]
Enter Mist. Page, Mist. Ford, Caius.
Mist. Page. M Doctor, my daughter is in green, when
you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her
to the Deanerie, and dispatch it quickly: go before into
the Parke: we two must go together.
Cai. I know vat I have to do, adieu.
Mist. Page. Fare you well (Sir:) ^Exit Caius. 1^ my
husband will not | rejoyce so much at the abuse of Fa/-
staj~e, as he will chafe | at the Doctors marrying my
daughter: But 'tis no mat- | ter; better a little chiding,
then a great deale of heart- | breake. 1 2
Mist. Ford. Where is Nan now/' and her troop of Fai-
ries? and the Welch-devill Heme?
Mist. Page. They are all couch' d ina pit hard by Hemes
Oake, with obscur'd Lights; which at the very instant
oi Falstaffes and our meeting, they will at once display to
the night.
Mist. Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him.
Mist. Page. If he be not amaz'd he will be mock' d: If
he be amaz'd, he will every way be mock'd. 21
Mist. Ford. Wee' 11 betray him finely. .
14. Heme: Hugh-CAFELL.
86
OF WINDSOR [V. iii. 23-v. 15
Mist. Page. Against such Lewdsters, and their lechery.
Those that betray them, do no treachery.
Mist. Ford. Thehouredrawes-on: to the Oake, to the
Oake. Exeunt.
Scena Ouarta.
[Windsor Park.']
Euter Evans [disguised] and Fairies.
Evans. Trib, trib Fairies: Couie, and remember your
parts: be pold (I pray you) follow me into the pit, and
when I give the watch-' ords, do as I pid you: Come,
come, trib, trib. Exeunt
Scena Quinta.
[Another part of the Park,]
Enter Faistaffe^ Mistris Page, Mistris Ford, Evans,
Anne Page, Fairies, Page, Ford, Quickly,
Slender, Fenton, Caius, Pistoll.
Fal. [Disguised as Heme] The Windsor-bell hath
stroke twelve: the Mi- | nute drawes-on: Now the hot-
bloodied- Gods assist me: I Remember Jove, thou was' t
a Bull for thy Europa, Love | set on thy homes. O
powerfull Love, that in some re- | spects makes a Beast
a Man: in som other, a Man a beast. | You were also
(Jupiter) a Swan, for the love oILeda: O | omnipotent
Love, how nere the God drew to the com- | plexion
of a Goose: a fault done first in the forme of a | beast,
(O Jove, a beastly fault:) and then another fault, | in
the semblance of a Fowle, thinke on't (Jove) a fowle- |
fault. When Gods have hot backes, what shall poore
men do ? For me, I am heere a Windsor Stagge, and the
fattest (I thinke) i'th Forrest. Send me a coole rut-time
a. Euter: Enter-2-4F. 3. Couu: Come-2-4F.
87
V. V. 15-43] THE MERRY WIVES
(Jove) or who can blame me to pisse my Tallow.? Who
comes heerer' my Doe? 19
\_£nUr Mistress Ford and Mistress Page.'\
M.Ford. Sir JohnP Art thou there (my Deere?)
My male-Deere?
Fal. My Doe, with the blacke Scut? Let the skie
raine Potatoes: let it thunder, to the tune of Greene-
sleeves, haile-kissing Comfits, and snow Eringoes: Let
there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter mee
heere.
M Ford. Mistris Page is come with me (sweet hart. )
Fal. Divide me like a brib'd-Bucke, each a Haunch:
I will keepe my sides to my selfe, my shoulders for the
fellow of this walke; and my homes I bequeath your
husbands. Am I a Woodman, ha? Speake I like Heme
the Hunter? Why, now is Cupid a child of conscience,
he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome.
\_Noise within.']
M.Page. Alas, what noise? 34
M. Ford. Heaven forgive our sinnes.
Fal. What should this be?
M.Ford. M.Page. Away, away. [They run off."]
Fal. I thinke the divell wil not have me damn'd.
Least the oyle that's in me should set hell on fire;
He would never else crosse me thus. 40
Enter Fairies [Evans y disguised as before, Pistol as Hob-
goblin, Quickly, Anne Page, and others, with tapers'] .
Qui. Fairies blacke, gray, greene, and white.
You Moone-shine revellers, and shades of night.
You Orphan heires of fixed destiny,
28. bribed: bribe-THEOBALD. 38-40. prose-CAPELL.
88
OF WINDSOR [V. V. 44-74
Attend your office, and your quality.
Crier Hob-goblyn, make the Fairy Oyes.
Pist. Elves, list your names: Silence you aiery toyes.
Cricket, to Windsor-chimnies shalt thou leape;
Where fires thou find'st unrakM, and hearths unswept.
There pinch the Maids as blew as Bill-berry, 50
Our radiant Queene, hates Sluts, and Sluttery.
Fa I. They are Fairies, he that speaks to them shall die.
He winke, and couch: No man their workes must eie.
[Lies down upon his face. ^
Ev. Wher's Bede} Go you,and where you find a maid
That ere she sleepe has thrice her prayers said.
Raise up the Organs of her fantasie,
Sleepe she as sound as carelesse infancie.
But those as sleepe, and thinke not on their sins.
Pinch them armes, legs, backes, shoulders, sides, & shins.
Qu. About, about: 60
Search Windsor Castle (Elves) within, and out.
Strew good lucke (Ouphes) on every sacred roome.
That it may stand till the perpetuall doome.
In state as wholsome, as in state 'tis fit.
Worthy the Owner, and the Owner it.
The severall Chaires of Order, looke you scowre
With juyce of Balme; and every precious flowre.
Each faire Instalment, Coate, and sev'rall Crest,
With loyall Blazon, evermore be blest.
And Nightly-meadow -Fairies, looke you sing 70
Like to the G^r/^rj-Compasse, in a ring,
Th'expressure that it beares: Greene let it be.
Mote fertile-fresh then all the Field to see:
And, Hony Soit Qui Ma/-y-Pence, write
In Emrold-tuffes, Flowres purple, blew, and white,
70. Nigbtly-meadoiv-Fatrtes: nightly, meadow-fairies-CAPELL.
73. Mort;More-Q2.2-4F. 75. £OTro/</-r«^«; emerald tufts-2-4F.
89
V. V. 75-I02] THE MERRY WIVES
Like Saphire-pearle, and rich embroiderie.
Buckled below faire Knight-hoods bending knee;
Fairies use Flowres for their characterie.
Away, disperse: But till *tis one a clocke.
Our Dance of Custome, round about the Oke 80
Of Heme the Hunter, let us not forget.
Evan, Pray you lock hand in hand: your selves in
order set: |
And twenty glow-wormes shall our Lanthornes bee
To guide our Measure round about the Tree.
But stay, I smell a man of middle earth.
Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh Fairy,
Least he transforme me to a peece of Cheese.
Pist. Vilde worme, thou wast ore-look* d even in thy
birth.
Qu. With Triall-fire touch me his finger end: 90
If he be chaste, the flame will backe descend
And turne him to no paine: but if he start.
It is the flesh of a corrupted hart.
Pist. A triall, come.
Eva. Come: will this wood take fire?
[^T^ey burn him with their taper 5."^
Fal. Oh, oh, oh.
Q^ui. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire.
About him (Fairies) sing a scornfull rime.
And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
The Song. 100
Fie on sinnefull phantasie: Fie on Lust, and Luxurie:
Lust is but a bloudy fire, kindled with unchaste desire.
Fed in heart whose fiames aspire.
As thoughts do blow them higher and higher.
76. Saphire-pearle: sapphire, pearl-TnEOBALD.
86-7. prose-PoPK. loi. z rhymed 11. -Popk.
OF WINDSOR [V. V. 103-129
Pinch him(^Fairies')mutually: Pinch him for his villanie.
Pinch him, and burne him, and turne him about y
Till Candles, ^ Star-light, ^ Moone-shine be out.
\^Duritig this song they pinch Falstaff. Doctor Caius
comes one way, and steals awaj a boy in green;
Slender another way, and takes off a boy in white;
Fenton comes and steals away Anne Page. A noise
of hunting is heard within. All the Fairies run
away, Falstaff pulls off his buclC s head, and rises.']
[Enter Page, Ford, Mistress Page, & Mistress Ford.]
Page. Nay do not flye, I thinke we have watcht you
now; Will none but Heme the Hunter serve your
turne? 1 1 o
M.Page. I pray you come, holdup the jest no higher.
Now (good Sir John) how like you Windsor wives?
See you these husband/' Do not these faire yoakes
Become the Forrest better then the Towne?
Ford. Now Sir, whose a Cuckold now?
M'" Broome, Falstaffes a Knave, a Cuckoldly knave,
Heere are his homes Master Broome-.
And Master Broome, he hath enjoyed nothing o^ Fords,
but his Buck-basket, his cudgell, and twenty pounds of
money, which must be paid to M' Broome, his horses are
arrested for it, M"^ Broome. 1 2 1
M.Ford. Sir John, we have had ill lucke: wee could
never meete: I will never take you for my Love againe,
but I will alwayes count you my Deere.
Fa I. I do begin to perceive that I am made an Asse.
Ford. I, and an Oxe too: both the proofes are ex-
tant.
Fa I. And these are not Fairies: 128
I was three or foure times in the thought they were not
108-10. 2 five-accent ll.-Row£.
i. 21 91
V. V. 130-162] THE MERRY WIVES
Fairies, and yet the guiltinesse of my minde, the sodaine
surprize of my powers, drove the grossenesse of the fop-
pery into a receiv'd beleefe, in despight of the teeth of
all rime and reason, that they were Fairies. See now
how wit may be made a Jacke-a-Lent, when ' tis upon ill
imploymen .
Evant. Sir John Fahtaffcy serve Got, and leave your
desires, and Fairies will not pinse you.
Ford. Well said Fairy Hugh.
Evans. And leave you your jealouzies too, I pray
you. 140
Ford. 1 will never mistrust my wife againe, till thou
art able to woo her in good English.
Fal. Have I laid my braine in the Sun, and dri'de it,
that it wants matter to prevent so grosse ore-reaching as
this? Am I ridden with a Welch Goate toor" Shal I have
a Coxcombeof Frize? Tis time I were choak'd with a
peece of toasted Cheese.
Ev. Seese is not good to give putter; your belly is al
putter. 1 49
Fal. Seese, and Putter? Have I liv'd to stand at the
taunt of one that makes Fritters of English? This is e-
nough to be the decay of lust and late- walking through
the Realme.
Mist. Page. Why Sir John, do you thinke though wee
would have thrust vertue out of our hearts by the head
and shoulders, and have given our selves without scru-
ple to hell, that ever the devill could have made you our
delight?
Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? A bag of flax?
Mist. Page. A puft man? 160
Page. Old, cold, wither' d, and of intollerable en-
trailes?
136. Evant: Evans (Evan)-2-4F,
9a
OF WINDSOR [V. V. 163-198
Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Sathan?
Page. And as poore as Job?
Ford. And as wicked as his wife?
Evan. And given to Fornications, and to Tavernes,
and Sacke, and Wine, and Metheglins, and to drinkings
and swearings, and starings? Pribles and prables?
Fa I. Well, I am your Theame: you have the start of
me, I am dejected: I am not able to answer the Welch
Flannell, Ignorance it selfe is a plummet ore me, use me
as you will. 172
Ford. Marry Sir, wee' 1 bring you to Windsor to one
M"^ Broome y that you have cozon'd of money, to whom
you should have bin a Pander: over and above that you
have suffer' d, I thinke, to repay that money will be a bi-
ting affliction.
Page. Yet be cheerefiill Knight: thou shalt eat a pos-
set to night at my house, wher I will desire thee to laugh
at my wife, that now laughes at thee: Tell her M' Slen-
der hath married her daughter. 181
Mist. Page. \_Aside'\ Doctors doubt that;
\^ Anne Page be my daughter, she is (by this) Doctour
Caius wife.
[^Enter Slender.']
Slen. Whoa hoe, hoe. Father Page.
Page. Sonner* How now/* How now Sonne,
Have you dispatch' d?
Slen. Dispatch' d? He make the best in Glostershire
know on't: would I were hang'd la, else.
Page. Of what sonne? 190
Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mistris Anne
Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it had not bene
i'th Church, I would have swing' d him, or hee should
have swmg'd me. If I did not thinke it had beene Anne
93
V. V. 198-231] THE MERRY WIVES
Page, would I might never stirre, and 'tis a Post-masters
Boy.
Page. Upon my life then, you tooke the wrong.
Slen. What neede you tell me that? I think so, when
I tooke a Boy for a Girle: If I had bene married to him,
f^for all he was in womans apparrell) I would not have
had him. 201
Page. Why this is your owne folly.
Did not I tell you how you should know my daughter.
By her garments?
Slen. I went to her in greene, and cried Mum, and
she cride budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet
it was not Anne, but a Post-masters boy.
Mist. Page. Good George be not angry, I knew of
your purpose: turn'd my daughter into white, and in-
deede she is now with the Doctor at the Deanrie, and
there married. 2 1 1
[^Enter Caius.'\
Cat. Ver is Mistris Page: by gar I am cozoned, I ha
married oon Garsoon, a boy; oon pesant, by gar. A boy,
it is not An Page, by gar, I am cozened.
M.Page. Why? did you take her in white?
Cai. I bee gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar. He raise all
Windsor.
Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the n^iAnne?
Page. My heart misgives me, here comes M'' Fenton.
How now M' Fenton} 220
\Enter Fenton and Anne Page."]
Anne. Pardon good father, good my mother pardon
Page. Now Mistris:
How chance you went not with M"" Slender}
205. greene: white-PoPE. 209. white: green-PoPE.
ai3. oon Garsoon J .. oon pesant: nn gar^on, .. un paysan-CAPELL.
94
OF WINDSOR [V. V. 232-259
M. Page, Why went you not with M' Doctor, maidr"
Fen. You do amaze her: heare the truth of it.
You would have married her most shamefiilly.
Where there was no proportion held in love:
The truth is, she and I (long since contracted)
Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us:
Th' offence is holy, that she hath committed, 230
And this deceit looses the name of craft.
Of disobedience, or unduteous title.
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed houres
Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Ford. Stand not amazM, here is no remedie:
In Love, the heavens themselves do guide the state.
Money buyes Lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fal. I am glad, though you have tane a special stand
to strike at me, that your Arrow hath glanc'd. 240
Page. Well, what remedy? Fen tony heaven give thee
joy, what cannot be cschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Fal. When night-dogges run, all sorts of Deere are
chacM.
Mist. Page. Well, I will muse no further: M' Fen ton.
Heaven give you many, many merry dayes:
Good husband, let us every one go home.
And laugh this sport ore by a Countrie fire.
Sir John and all.
Ford. Let it be so (Sk John:) 250
To Master Broome, you yet shall hold your word.
For he, to night, shall lye with Mistris Ford: Exeunt
242. new 1. at What-zRows.
FINIS.
95
GLOSSARY
ABBREVIATIONS IN GLOSSARIES
All's Well
Ant. & Cleo.
As You .
Cor. . . ,
Cymb. . .
Errors . . ,
Ham. . .
1 Hen. IV
2 Hen. IV
Hen. V .
1 Hen. VI
2 Hen. VI ,
3 Hen. VI
Hen. VIII
John . . .
Jul. Caes. . .
Lear . . .
Lov. Comp. .
Love's Lab. .
Lucrece . .
Macb. . . .
Meas. for Meas.
Mer. of Ven.
Men Wives .
Mids. Night Dr,
Much Ado .
Oth. . . .
Pass. Pilg. .
Per. . . .
Phoen. & Tur.
Rich. II . .
Rich. III. .
Rom. & Jul.
Sonn. . . .
Sonn. Mus. .
Tam. of Shr.
Temp. . . .
Tim. of Ath.
Tit. And. . .
Tro. & Cres.
Tw. Night ,
Two Gen. of
Ven. & Ad. ,
Wint. Tale ,
Ver.
All's Well that Ends Well
Antony and Cleopatra
As You Like It
Coriolanus
Cymbeline
The Comedy of Errors
Hamlet
The First Part of King Henry IV
The Second Part of King Henry IV
The Life of King Henry V
The First Part of King Henry VI
The Second Part of King Henry VI
The Third Part of King Henry VI
The Famous History of the Life of King
Henry VIII
The Life and Death of King John
Julius Caesar
King Lear
A Lover's Complaint
Love's Labour's Lost
The Rape of Lucrece
Macbeth
Measure for Measure
The Merchant of Venice
The Merry Wives of Windsor
A Midsummer Night's Dream
Much Ado about Nothing
Othello
The Passionate Pilgrim
Pericles
The Phoenix and the Turtle
The Tragedy of King Richard II
The Tragedy of King Richard III
Romeo and Juliet
Sonnets
Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music
The Taming of the Shrew
The Tempest
Timon of Athens
Titus Andronicus
Troilus and Cressida
Twelfth Night
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
Venus and Adonis
The Winter's Tale
THE TEMPEST
A GLOSSARY OF WORDS
Grammatical Usage and Pronunciation
Abhorred, I. ii. 413, three sylla-
bles.
Absohite, I. ii. 128, actual ; cf.
Mer. Wives, III. iii. 56, Ham.,
V. ii. 112.
Abuse, V. i. 127, deceive ; Much
Ado, V. ii. 93.
Aches, I. ii. 433, two syllables,
a'-tches.
Admire, V. i. 179, wonder ; Tw.
Night, III. iv. 153.
Advance, I. ii. 472, IV. i. 201, lift ;
Tw, Night, II. v. 33.
Afeard, II. ii. 153, III. ii. 141.
archaic form of afraid, Sh. uses
both forms ; Mids. Night Dr.,
III. i. 27 ; Mer. of Ven., II vii.
Againe {again), I. ii. 454, again
and again, used with the sense of
repeatedly by the Elizabethans.
Against, III. 1. 38, governs it.
A hold {a-hold)y I. i. 57, close to
the wind.
Amazement, I. ii. 17, 231, terror.
Amen, II. ii. 101, so be it ; Mer.
Wives, III. iii. 185.
And, II. i. 187, IV. i. 264, if;
Meas. for Meas., II, i. 197.
Anthonio, I. ii. 82, 151, stress on
second syllable, An-tho' -nee-o.
Argier, I. ii. 309, Algiers.
Ariel, I. ii. 220, stress on first
syllable, A '-ree-el ; last two syl-
lables frequently elided as in I.
ii. 225,
As, II, i, 122, as if; I, ii, 86, re-
dundant in expression of time.
Aspersion, IV. 1. 21, shower.
Attach' d {attached), III, iii. 9,
seized ; Hen, VIII, I, i, 118.
Attend, I. ii, 528, listen to.
Avoid, IV. i. 163, begone, away ;
Ant, & Cleo., V. ii. 295.
Ayrie {airy)^ V, i. 61, magical.
Backward, I. ii. 61, background.
Barnacles, IV. i. 273, geese, sup-
posed to grow from the shellfish.
Base, III, iii, 124, sound in deep
voice.
Bat-fowling, II. i. 192, hunting
birds at night.
Bate, I. ii, 295, II, i, 100, sub-
tract, except.
Beake {beak), I, ii. 229, bow of a
vessel.
Beare {bear) up. III, ii. 4, take
your course, sail up ; Oth,, I.
iii, 12,
Bermoothis, I, ii, 269, the Span-
ish form for the Bermudas, used
commonly by Elizabethans.
Beseech, I, ii, 555, the subject / is
omitted.
Betid, I. ii. 38, betided, happened ;
Rich. II, V. i. 45.
Blasphemy, V. i. 260, blasphemous
one.
Blessed, V, i. 239, two syllables.
Blew-ey'd {blue-eyed), I. ii. 317,
with livid eyelids.
Blow, III. i. 76, soil ; cf. V. i. 537.
Boile {boil'd), V. i. 72, seething,
mad ; Wint. Tale, III. iii. 70.
Bootelesse {bootless), I. ii. 43,
profitless.
Borne {bourn), II. i. 158, bound-
ary,
Boskie, IV. i. 90, wooded ; i Hen.
IV, V. i. 6.
Boudge {budge), V. i. 15, stir.
Brave, I. ii. 510, V. i. 310, fine,
Bumbard {bombard), II. ii, 24,
leather bottle.
Burthen, I. ii, 446, undersong,
base accompaniment ; As You,
III, ii, 243.
But, I. ii. 140, otherwise than ;
478, except that.
By and by, III. ii. 155, at once.
THE TEMPEST
Caliban, I, ii. 333, 370, stress on
first syllable, Cdl-e-ban.
Can, IV. i. 32, can suggest.
Candied, II. i. 307, congealed ;
Tim. of Ath., IV. lii. 246.
Canker, I. ii. 479, canker worm.
Capable, I. ii. 415, retentive ; All's
Well, I. i. 99.
Carriage, V. i. 5, burden ; Mer.
Wives, II. ii. 165.
Case, III. ii. 26, in case, able.
Cast, II. i. 273, cast up.
Cato' mountaine {mountain) , IV.
i. 289, wild cat, catamount.
Catch, III. ii. 124, part-song ; Tw.
Night, II. iii. 21.
Celebration, IV. i. 33, five sylla-
bles.
Certes, III. iii. 42, two syllables ;
certainly ; sometimes pronounced
as one syllable ; 0th., I. i. 19.
Chan^d,\. ii. 514, exchanged.
Chat, II. i. 291, talk.
Cheerely {cheerly), I. i. 11, cheer-
ily ; for the adverb formed with
' \y ' from a noun, c/. anger ly,
Macb.j III. v. 4.
Cherubin, I. ii. 180, cherub ; the
usual form for the singular in
Sh.: 0th., IV. ii. 73; cf. Mer.
of Ven., V. i. 72.
Chirurgeonly, II. i. 144, like a
surgeon.
Chough, II. i. 291, jackdaw.
Cleere (clear) ,111. iii. 103, blame-
less.
Closenes {closeness), I. ii. loS,
retirement.
Cloudy, II. i, 146, gloomy.
Cockrell {cockerel), II. i. 35,
young cock.
Come by, II. i. 321, get, win.
Complexion, I. i. 37, appearance.
Conduct, V. i. 290, conductor,
guide ; Rom. & Jul., III. i. 130.
Confederates, I. ii. 130, agrees.
Confines, IV. i. 134, stress on
second syllable ; abodes.
Constant, I. ii. 241, self-possessed ;
II. ii. 122, well-settled.
Content, II. i. 295, desire.
Content, V. i. 195, please.
Controll {control), I. ii. 512, re-
fute.
Coragio, V. i. 307, couraee.
Corolary {corollary), IV. i. 66,
surplus.
Correspondent, I. ii. 348, obedient.
Courses, I, i. 57, lower parts ; cf.
1. 44.
Coyle, I. ii, 241, turmoil ; Two
Gen. ofVer., I. ii. 108.
Crabs, II. ii. 176, wild apples.
Crispe {crisp), IV. i. 146, curling,
winding, or else ruffled by the
wind.
Deare {dear), I. ii. 167, heartfelt.
Debosh'd, III. ii. 27, Elizabethan
spelling for debauched ; Lear, I.
iv. 223 ; All's Well, V. iii. 238.
Deck'd, I, ii. 183, covered ; Love's
Lab., IV. iii. 275.
Deepe {deep), II. i. 291, wise.
Deere {dear), I. ii. 2ii(?), II. i.
139, precious, valuable.
Deer'st {dear'st), II. i. 139, one
syllable ; cf. IV. i. 30, V. i. 219.
Deliver, II. 1. 49, V. i. 369, relate ;
Two Gen. of Ver., III. li. 37.
Demanded, I. ii. 165, asked.
Disease, V. i. 97, undress ; Wint.
Tale, IV. iv. 718.
Discharge, II. i. 277, performance,
a theatrical expression.
Discovery, II. i. 264, what is
found.
Dismissed, IV. i. 76, three sylla-
bles.
Distempered, IV. i. 167, out of
humour ; Ham., III. ii. 325.
Distinctly, I. ii. 233, separately ;
Cor., Iv. iii. 44.
Doit, II. ii. 35, half a farthing.
Doubt, II. i. 264, distrust.
Dowle, III. iii. 86, fibre of down.
Drawn, II. i. 341, with swords
drawn ; ii. 156, having taken a
draught.
Drie {dry), I. ii. 131, thirsty.
Drolerie {drollery) , III. iii. 31,
humorous picture, or puppet-
show ; 2 Hen. IV, II. i. 127.
Earth'd, II. i. 253, buried.
Earthy, I. ii. 321, base, low.
Ebbing, II. i. 243, of declining
fortunes ; cf. Ant. & Cleo., I.
iv. 49.
Eld'st, V. i. 219, one syllable ; cf.
deer'st, II. i. 139, strongst, IV.
i. 30-
Else, I. ii. 578, other.
Engine, II. i. 168, mechanical
GLOSSARY
device ; Tro. & Cres., I. iii. 215 ;
cf. Ham., III. iv. 204[5],
Envy, I. ii. 305, malice ; Mer. of
Ven., IV. i. 14.
Estate, IV. i. 94, settle, bestow ;
As You, V. ii. 13.
Event, I. ii. 137, III. i. 83, result.
Extasie (ecstasy). III. iii. 1J5,
madness ; Much Ado, II. iii.
148 ; Ham., III. iv. 148.
Eye, II. i, 59, appearance ; Ham.,
I. iii. 135.
Eyther's {either' s), I. ii. 523,
each other's.
Fadont (fathom), I. ii, 460, sin-
gular form for the plural, as often
with measures when used with a
numeral.
Fall, II. i. 326, V. i, 76, let fall ;
0th., IV. 1. 273.
Feater, II. i. 301, neater ; cf.
feate, Cymb., V. v. 106.
Featly, I. ii. 445, neatly, adroitly ;
Wint. Tale, IV. iv. 207.
Fellow, II. i. 302, III, 1. 106, equal.
Few, I, ii. 170, few words, short ;
Meas. for Meas., III. i. 247.
Filth, I. ii. 407, contemptuous for
a person ; 0th., V. ii. 288.
Fire, I. ii. 7, two syllables.
Flat-long, II, i. 187, with the
of the blade.
Flote, I. ii. 274, flood, sea.
Foile {foil). III, i. 57, disadvan-
tage, defeat ; i Hen. VI, V, iii.
28.
Foote (foot) it, I. ii. 445, dance.
Footing, IV. i. 155, dancing.
For, I, i, 54, against ; I, ii. 272,
because,
Foule (foul), II. ii. 24, old, worn.
Founderd (founder'd), IV. i. 34,
lamed by over-use.
Fourth (forth-) rights, III. iii. 6,
straight paths ; Tro. & Cres.,
III. iii. 165,
Foyzon (foison), II. i. 170, rich
harvest ; Meas. for Meas., I. iv.
Fraughting, I. ii. 15, making the
burden ; cf. Mer. of Ven., II.
viii. 33.
Freshes, III. ii. 70, springs.
Fringed, I. ii. 475, two syllables.
Frustrate, III. lii. 14, unavailing ;
cf Ant. & Cleo., V. i, 4.
side
Full, I. ii. 25, completely; cf. I. ii.
183, 460.
Gaberdine, II, ii. 41, coarse cloak.
Gentle, I. ii. 548, high-born,
spirited.
Gins, III. iii. 133, begins ; Macb.,
V. v. 56.
Glasses, I. ii. 282, V. i. 266, hours,
in seaman's language ; cf. All's
Well, II. i, 183.
Glut, I, i, 70, swallow.
Go, III, ii, 20, walk,
Gonzalo (Gonzallo) , \. ii, 190, II.
i, 176, 326, 352, V. i. 19, etc.,
stress on second syllable, Gon-
za'-lo.
Good, I. i. 7, 23, vocative, ' good
fellow,' or perhaps deprecatory
* I pray you ' ; Errors, IV. iv.
24 ; Wint, Tale, V. i. 25.
Grace, V, i, 165, favour.
Grudge, I. ii, 294, murmuring ; cf.
Much Ado, III. iv, 83.
He, II, i, 32, him ; cf Rom, &
Jul., III. V, 90.
Hearkens, I. ii, 144, listens to ;
2 Hen, IV, II. iv. 278.
Heed, II. i. 234, the subject 'you'
is omitted.
Hests, I. ii. 322, III. i, 47, IV. i.
74, commands.
Him, V. i. 19, loosely constructed
in the same case as the accom-
panying relative.
Hint, I. ii. 157, II. i. 6, theme,
occasion; Ant. & Cleo., III. iv.
10.
His, II. i. 121, its, the latter form
being recent in Sh.'s time and not
in full use.
Hollowly, III. i. 84, insincerely.
Holpe (holp), I. ii. 78, more
common in Sh, than the regular
helped.
Holy, V. i. 74, pious, worthy.
Home, V. i. 83, effectively, fully ;
Wint. Tale, V. iii. 8.
Hoyst (hoist), I. ii. 174, hoisted;
such contractions occur espe-
cially with verbs ending in t or d.
Hudwinke (hoodwink), IV. i.
232, hide.
/ (ay), II. i. 49, 71, III. i. X07,
yes.
THE TEMPEST
/, IV. i. 244, loosely constructed
for * me,' object of make.'
Impertinent, I. ii. 162, irrelevant ;
used only here and (mistakenly)
in Mer. of Ven., II. ii. 131.
Importuned, II. i. 131, stress on
second syllable, tm-por'-titn'd.
Incharitable, I. i. 50, unfeeling.
Infest, V. i. 293, vex.
Infused, I. ii. 182, three syllables ;
inspired.
Inherit, II. ii. 184, take possession ;
IV. i. 176, possess
Inly, V. i. 237, inwardly.
Into, I. ii. 325, 423, for in, a
confine y implying movement.
Inquisition, 1. ii. 43, enquiry.
Invert, III. i. 84, reverse, change
for the opposite.
Is, I. ii. 562, used with a plural
subject, especially after ' there ' ;
Cymb., III. i. 43.
//, II. i. 170, for 'its,' especially
before own, and as usual in Sh.
' its ' not becoming common until
later in the century.
Jacke {jack), IV. i. 224, knave,
deceiver.
Jerkin, IV. i. 262, doublet,
jacket ; Two Gen. of Ver., II.
iv. 22.
Justifie {justtyy),Y. i. 146, prove.
Key, I. ii. 100, tuning instrument.
Kybe, II. i. 304, chilblain ; Mer.
Wives, I. iii. 30 ; Ham. V. i.
145-
Lakin, III. iii. 4, ladykin, the
Virgin.
Lassd, IV. i. 146, lawn ; cf. laund,
3 Hen. VI, III. i. 4.
Lasse-lorne {lass-lorn), forsaken
by his lass.
Learning-, I. ii. 427, teaching.
Lieu, I. ii. 145, in lieu of, in re-
turn for.
Life, III. iii. no, representation of
the life.
Like, IV. i. 265, please, impersonal,
in the original construction of
' please ' in * if you please.'
Lime, IV. i. 270, bird lime.
Line, IV. i. 262, lime tree.
Line-grove, V. i. 14, lime grove.
Loathnesse {loathness), II. i. 133,
reluctance ; Ant. & Cleo., III.
xi. 20.
Lorded, I. ii. 115, made a lord.
Lush, II. i. 56, luxuriant.
Lusty, II. i. 56, vigorous.
Lyfie {line), IV. i. 268, rule.
Madde {mad), I. ii. 244, delirium.
Maid, III. i. loi, servant.
Maine {main) -course, I. i. 44,
main sail.
Make, II. i. 290, turn into ; ii. 33,
make the fortune of.
Mannage {manage), I. ii. 86,
government.
Massie {massy), \\\. iii. 88, heavy.
Master, I. i. 4, I. ii. 8, captain.
Matter, II. i. 248, thing of impor-
tance.
Me, I. ii. 128, loosely constructed,
perhaps as a dative ; V. i. 336,
364, redundant object with verbs
not usually reflexive.
Meanders, III. iii. 6, round or
winding paths.
Measure, II. i. 284, make one's
way over ; Two Gen. of Ver.,
II. vii. 12.
Medle (meddle), I. ii. 28, mingle.
Meerlv {merely), I. i. 65, abso-
lutely, III. vii. 10.
Merchant, II. i. 8, merchantman.
Mettal {mettle), II. i. 188, spirit.
Mine, III. iii. 117, used for my
sometimes when separated from
the noun ; cf. ' yours,' II. i.
277.
Minion, IV. i. 109, darling, mis-
tress.
Miranda,!, ii. 59, etc., stress on
second syllable. Mi-ran' -da.
Misse {miss), I. ii. 368, do with-
out ; Cor., II. i. 268.
Mistakings, I. ii. 293, used by Sh.
for * mistakes ' ; Meas. for Meas.,
III. ii. 139.
Mo, II. i. 136, V. i. 279, more.
Momentarie {momentary), I. ii.
235, instantaneous.
Moone {moon) -calf, II. ii. 113,
deformed monster.
Mop, IV. i. 53, pout ; cf. Lear, IV.
More, I. ii. 24, 512, making a
double comparative not uncom-
mon in Sh.
Morsell {morsel), 11. i. 314, rem-
GLOSSARY
nant, contemptuous for a person ;
Meas. for Meas,, III. ii. 54.
Mount, II. ii. 14, raise.
Mowe (mo7v), IV. i. 53, grimace.
Muse, III. iii. 50, wonder at.
Mushrumps {mushrooms), V. i.
46, old form of the word used only
here by Sh.
My, IV. i. 230, often so placed after
an adjective, with the vocative ;
Jul. Caes., II, i. 283.
My selfe {myself), I. ii. 505, V.
i. 28, 176, the reflexive pronoun
used for the nominative.
Naturall {natural). III. ii. 34 ;
As You, I. ii. 54.
Nature, V. i. 88, natural affection.
Neates {neat' s)-leather, II. ii. 75,
leather of cowhide.
Nerves, I. ii. 570, sinews, muscles.
Non-pareill {nonpareil). III. ii.
105, paragon.
Nooke {nook), I. ii. 267, bay.
Nor no, I. ii. 470, emphatic double
negative.
Not, II. i. 122, V. i. 45, 128, 357,
put before the verb as if do or
does were used.
Note, II. i. 271, news, information.
Nothing, Ii. i. 177, nonsense ;
Mer. of Ven., I. i. 123.
Nuptiall {nuptial), V. i. 362,
three syllables, nup-she-al ; regu-
larly used in the singular by
Sh.
Observation, III. iii. 111, atten-
tion, careful performance ; cf.
Mid. Night Dr., IV. i. 118.
Occasion, II. i. 217, favourable op-
portunity ; Mer. Wives, II. li.
Odde {odd), I. ii. 261, remote, de-
serted.
Of, V. i. 165, from ; 275, with ; II.
i. 85, on ; III. i. 68, redundant
after the verb.
Omit, I. ii. 215, II. i. 202, neglect.
On, I. ii. 104, 425, 531, II. i. 151,
IV. i, i-j(^, of.
Ooze, I. ii. 298, III. iii. 125, soft
bottom of the sea ; cf. V. i. 176.
Opportune, IV. i. 30, stress on
second syllable, op-por' -tune ;
Wint. Tale, IV. iv. 560.
Out, I. ii. 50, fully, V, i. 266, up.
Over-topping, I. ii. 8, outrunning
the pack, a hunting term.
Owe, 1. ii. 471, 529, III. i. 56, own,
have.
Owne {own), V. i. 251, master of
one's self.
Painfull {painfuT), III. f. 3,
laborious.
Pains, I. ii. 284, tasks ; Tam. of
Shr., III. i. 14.
Passe {pass), IV, i. 268, thrust,
sally, a fencing term.
Passion, I. ii. 456, grief; IV. i.
164, three syllalsles.
Passion, V. i. 30, feel deeply ; Two
Gen. ofVer., IV. iv. 169.
Patch, III. ii. 66, fool ; Errors,
III. i. 3g.
Pate, IV. i. 269, wit.
Patience, Y. i. 161, three syllables.
Paunch, III. ii. 95, run through
the belly.
Peece {piece), I. ii. 69, pattern;
Ant. &Cleo., III. ii. 33.
Pertly, IV. i. 67, briskly.
Pioned, IV. i. 73, three syllables,
stress on first; 'peonied,' cov-
ered with marsh-marigold.
Place, I. ii. 398, perhaps for the
plural, ' places,' the omission of
the plural 's' occurs especially
in words ending with an ' s '
sound.
Plantation, II. i. 148, colonization.
Point, I. ii. 227, exactness, detail.
Pole-dipt, IV. i. 77, twined on
poles ; for clip, embrace, see
Ant. & Cleo., IV. viii. 10.
Poore {poor), John, II. ii. 30,
salted hake^ a coarse fish.
Premises, I. li. 145, first conditions ;
All's Well II. i. 221.
Presented, IV. i. 151 , represented ;
Much Ado, III. iii. 73.
Princesse, I. ii. 204, princesses ;
the sound of 's' being regarded
as plural, cf As You, I. ii. 160.
Professes, II. i. 255, makes it a
business ; As You, III. ii. 386.
Profit, I. ii. 203, gain, a verb.
Prospero, I. ii. 25, etc., stress on
first syllable ; shortened to Pros-
per, with same accent. III. iii.
124.
Purchased {purchased), IV. i. 17,
won ; Love's Lab,, III. i. 37.
THE TEMPEST
Putter out. III. iii. 65, insured
traveller.
Py'de {pied), III. ii. 66, motley
coated.
Qualitie {quality), I, ii. 225, abil-
ity, power ; Tv '^ ' ""
III. i. 273.
power ; Two Gen. of Ver.,
Queint {quaint), I. ii. 375, dex-
trous, artistic ; Mer. Wives, IV.
vi. 42.
Quicke {quick). III. ii. 70, living ;
Mer. Wives, III. iv. 90.
Quickens, III. i. 8, makes alive.
Quit, I. ii. 174, shortened participle,
common in verbs ending in a * t '
or ' d ' sound ; c/. ' betid,' 1. 38.
Rabble, IV. i. 42, crowd, not nec-
essarily contemptuous.
Race, I. ii. 420, breed ; Ant. &
Cleo., I. iii. 50.
Racke {rack), IV. 1, 178, floating
mist ; Ant. & Cleo., IV. xiv.
14.
Rare, IV. i. 137, for rarely, modi-
fying ivondred.
Rate,!, ii, no, II. i. 109, estima-
tion, judgment.
Razor-able {razorable), II. i. 273,
fit to be shaved.
Reasonable, V. i. 93, of reason.
Recover, II. ii, 73,82, 100, restore ;
As You, IV. iii. 159.
Red-plague , I. ii. 426, leprosy.
Remetnber, I. ii. 285, remind ;
469, mention ; 2 Hen. IV, V. ii.
150.
Remorse, V. i. 88, pity.
Requit, III. iii. 92, requited ; cf.
quit.
Resolve, V. i. 295, rid of ignorance ;
Meas. for Meas., IV. ii. 220.
Revenew {revenue), I. ii. 116,
stress on second syllable, re-
ven'-ew.
Rid, I. ii. 426, destroy.
Ripe, V. i, 332, drunk.
Rounded, IV. i. 180, rounded out,
finished.
Sacke {sack), II. ii. 129, Spanish
white wine.
Safely, V. i. 264, the adverb modi-
fying
ig the verb, in place of the
adjective modifying the object.
Sanctimonious, IV. i. 19, sacred.
Sans, I. ii, 115, without; Errors,
IV. iv. 80 ; used as an English
word at this time.
Save, II. i. 176, God save.
'Scamels, II. ii. 180, possibly sea-
mews.
Scandald {scandal' d), IV. i. 100,
defame ; Cor., III. i. 58.
Scap'd {scaped) ,11. ii. 64, escaped,
not a shortening of ' escaped.'
Sebastian, II. i. 140, 215, 228, etc.,
three syllables, stress on second,
Se-bas -tyan.
Securing, II. i. 344, guarding.
Sedg'd {sedged), IV. i. 145, made
of sedges or reeds.
Sense, II. i. 107, feelings.
Sensible, II. i. 181, sensitive, with
quick feeling ; Meas. for Meas.,
III. i. 138.
Setebos, I. ii. 437, stress on first
syllable.
Set, III. ii. 10, rigid ; Tw. Night,
V, i. 211.
Set off. III. i. 4, make attractive.
Severall {several). III. i. 53, va-
rious, different, Meas. for Meas.,
II. iv. 4.
Shak'd {shaked), II. i. 355, less
common in Sh. than ' shook ' ;
I Hen. IV, III. i. 21, etc.
She, III. ii. 106, her ; this usage
occurs especially when the object
is separated from the verb, as
here.
Shrowd {shroud), II ii, 43, take
shelter ; cf. Ant. & Cleo., III.
xiii. 86.
Siege, II. ii. 113, seat.
Single, I. ii. 503, solitary, mere ;
Mer. of Ven., I. iii. 50.
Skillesse {skilless) ,111. i. 65, igno-
rant.
Sociable, V. i. 75, sympathetic ;
John, III. iv. 69.
Sodaine {sudden), II. i. 339, quick.
Solemnized^ . i. 363, four syllables,
stress on the second, sol-em' -ni-
zed.
Something, I. ii. 478, somewhat.
Sore, V. i. 341, sorry ; 2 Hen. IV,
IV. vii. 10.
Sot, III. ii. 98, fool ; not used by
Sh, with reference to drunken-
ness.
Spoke, IV. i. ^6, ' n ' dropped, as
often in participles, at this time.
GLOSSARY
Spryting {spriting), I. ii. 349,
magic service.
Spungie (.spongy), IV. i. 74,
watery; Cymb., IV. ii. 433.
Stain' d {stained), I. ii. 478, dis-
figured.
Stale, IV. i. 211, decay ; Tam. of
Shr., III. i. 91.
Standard, III. ii. 17, standard-
bearer, ensign.
Stare, III. iii. 119, daze.
Steeded {steaded), I. ii. 194, been
useful, help ; Two Gen. of Ver.,
II. i. 109.
Stephana, III. ii, 163, IV. i. 248,
stress on first syllable, Stef -fa-no
Still, I. ii. 269, III. iii. 85, V. i.
253, ever, always.
Stockfish, III. ii. 74, dried cod.
Stontacke {stomach), I. ii. 185,
courage ; II. i. 107, liking.
Stover, IV. i. 72, fodder for cattle.
Strange, III. iii. in, rare.
Strangely, IV. i. 9, wonderfully.
Study, II. i. 84, wonder.
Substitution, I. ii. 121, being a
substitute, delegated authority.
Subtleties, V. i. 142, illusions,
originally applied to cookery ;
Per., II. V. 46.
Suffered, II. ii. 39, been killed.
Suggestion, II. i. 316, IV. i. 30,
prompting, temptation.
Supportable, V. 1. 169, main stress
on first syllable.
Swabber, II. ii. 49, deck cleaner ;
Tw. Night, I. V. 203.
Sycorax, I. iii. 305, 339, etc., stress
on first syllable, Sy -co-rax.
Tahor, IV. i. 199, small drum ;
Cor., 1. vi. 32.
Taborer, III. ii. 160, player on a
tabor.
Talking, II. i. 96, used with a de-
pendent clause, like ' saying,'
Tang, II, ii, 53, sharp sound,
Teene {teen),\. ii, 80, grief, tears ;
Love's Lab,, IV. iii. 169.
Tell, II. i. 19, count.
Temperance, II. i. 47, climate.
Temperate, IV. i. 148, chaste.
Tender, II. i. 206, regard, care
for; Two Gen. ofVer., IV. iv. 142.
That, III. ii. 103, the thing, that
which : 147, so that ; V. i. 336,
for ' as,' after * such.'
Thetched {thatched), IV. i. 72,
covered, strewn.
Third {thread), IV, i, 5, strand.
Throughly, III, iii. 18, thoroughly.
Throwes {throes) , II. i. 249, pains,
the verb.
Tilth, II. i. 158, tillage, cultivation.
To, II. i. 78, for ; Mer. Wives,
III. iii. 89.
Trash, I. ii. 98, call back, check ;
lop off.
Trenchering, II. ii. 192, trenchers,
Triffle {trifle), V, i. 127, phantom,
Trinculo, II, ii, 108, etc., stress on
first syllable.
Troule {troll). III. ii. 124, sing
around.
True, V. »•_ _3i9, honest ; Love's
Lab., IV. iii. 193.
Try, I. i. 44, i.e. keep close to
the wind and see if she will bear
the main course.
Twilled, IN. i. 73, two syllables ;
meaning not certain.
Twincke {twink),YV. i. 49, twin-
kling.
Undergoing, I. ii. 185, enduring.
up-staring, I. ii. 248, standing on
end.
Urchins, I. ii. 385, imps.
Urchyn- shewes {u rch in- shows) ,
II. i. 8, apparitions of hobgoblins.
Use, II. i. 181, are accustomed.
Utensils, III. ii, loi, perhaps with
stress on first syllable.
Valiant, III, ii, 35, three syllables.
Vanity, IV. i. 46, illusion.
Vast, I, ii, 386, void, a noun.
Verily, II, i, 357, adverb, used in-
stead of the adjective, modifying
the subject,
Vertue, I. ii, 34, soul, spring.
Villanous, IV. i. 274, an adjective
is often used in place of an ad-
verb, with another adjective.
Visitation, III. i. 40, seizure of
feeling.
Visitor, II. i. 15, visiting priest.
Voucht {vouched), II. i. 64, at-
tested.
Watgh'd {weighed), II. i. 133,
considered.
Ward, I. ii. 552^ attitude of de-
fence ; Mcr. Wives, II. ii. 336.
THE TEMPEST
Waste {waist), I. ii. 230, middle
part.
Weather, I. i. 46, storm ; Tw.
Night, I, V. 234.
Weather-fends, V, i, 14, protects
from the weather.
Welkins {welkin's),!, i. 6, sky's ;
Mer. Wives, I. iii. 85 ; Tw.
Night, III. i. 58.
Wench, I. ii. 165, 477, used as a
term of endearment.
Wezand, III. ii, 96, windpipe.
When, I. ii. 374, an exclamation of
impatience.
Where {whether), V. i. 126,
whether ; Errors, IV. i. 67.
Which, III. i. 8, whom, used of a
person.
Whileare {while-ere). III. ii.
125, just now.
Whiles, I. ii. 403, while.
Whist, I. ii. 444, adjective, silent,
to silence.
Who, I. ii. 9, 97, II. i. 129, whom,
III. iii. 83, which, used of
things ; I. ii. 97, 271, whom.
Whom, III. iii. 116, who ; cf.
John, IV, ii. 171 ; attracted to
the accusation by the influence
of the next foUowmg verb.
Wicked, I. ii. 380, harmful.
Wide-chopt {chapped), I. i. 66,
wide mouthed.
Windring, IV. i. 144, wind-
ing.
Winke {wink), II. i. 313, sleep,
closing of the eyes ; Wint. Tale,
I. ii. Z^Jij. Il^i. 263, time of a
10.
1. u. 307 ; ii. 1. 203, time
wink ; Wint. Talc, V. ii. u
Wink'st, II. i. 229, hast the eyes
closed.
Wisest, II. ii. 80, 'fashion' is
understood.
Withall {withal), III. ii. 102, for
* with ' at the end of a sentence
when the object (here which)
precedes.
Woe, V. i. 161, sorry.
Wondred {wonder d), IV. i. 137,
wonder-working.
Workes {works), IV. i. 165,
affects.
Worme {worm). III. i. 39, ex-
pression of pity.
Worser, IV. i. 31, double com-
parative.
Wracke {wrack), I. ii. 33, wreck.
Wrong, I. ii. 516, made a mis-
take ; Mer. Wives, III. iii. 186.
Yare, I. i. 12, 43, V. i. 267, ready;
Meas. for Meas., IV. ii. 58.
Yarely, I. i. 8, quickly ; Ant. &
Cleo., II. ii. 247.
Yere {year), I. ii. 65, plural s
often omitted with words of meas-
ure after a numeral.
Ynch-meale {inchmeal), II. ii. 6,
inch by inch.
Yond, I. ii. 473, over there.
Your, V. i. 15, subjective genitive,
' made by you.'
Yours, II. 1. 277, for ' your ' be-
cause separated from its noun, c/,
tnine, III, iii. 117.
Zenith, I. ii. 213, maximum of
fortune.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN
OF VERONA
GLOSSARY
Accesse {access), IV. ii. 6, stress
on second syllable.
Account of, II. i. 6i, esteem.
Admired, IV. ii. 5, three syllables.
Adventure, III. i. 123, venture ;
Wint. Tale, I. ii. 48.
Advice, II, iv. 210, knowledge ;
III. i. 76, reflection.
A good {agood), IV. iv. 167, in
earnest.
Aimed at. III. i. 48, guessed, sus-
pected ; cf. Ham., IV. v. 11.
Ale, II. V. 55, ale house.
Allycholly, IV. ii. 29, melancholy ;
cf. Mer. Wives, I. iv. 142.
And {an) if, I. i. 79, III. i. 260,
if; Temp., II. ii. 123.
Angerly, I. ii. 65, angrily ; John,
IV. i. 90.
Apparent, III. i. 119, manifest ;
Meas. for Meas., IV. ii. 150.
Approv'd {approved), V. iv. 46,
tested by experience ; cf. All's
Well, III. vii. 16.
As, II. iv. 137, that ; as much, IV.
iii. 45, as I wish much.
Auburne {auburn), IV. iv. 190,
flaxen (?), cf. abram. Cor., II.
iii. 19.
Awfull {awful), IV. i. 48, having
resptct for authority ; Per. II.
Pro. 5. .
Ayme {aim), III. i. 31, suspicion,
conjecture ; V. iv. 109, object.
Bare, III. i. 274, mere.
Beades-man {beadsman) , I. i. i8,
one hired to say prayers ; Rich.
II, III. ii. 117.
Bechance, I. i. 65, happen ; cf.
Mer. of Ven., I. i. 42.
Befortune, IV. iii. 45, happen well
to, betide.
Beholding, IV. iv. 175, under obli-
gation ; Mer. Wives, I. i. 248.
i. 22
Be shrew, I. i. 127, evil befall ;
Much Ado, y. i. 63.
Bestow, III. i. 90, conduct, be-
have ; As You, IV. iii. 91,
Did the fare, I. ii. 106, challenged ;
term used in a game of ball.
Blacke {black), V. ii. 12, dark-
complexioned ; Much Ado, III.
i. 68.
Blunt, II. vi. 43, dull, stupid ; 2
Hen. IV. In. 21.
Boots, I. i. 30, make a laughing
stock.
Boots, I. i. 31, profits, benefits.
Bottome {bottom). III. ii. 55, wind
in a ball ; cf Tarn, of Shr., IV.
iii. 143.
Breake {break), I. iii. 47, III. i.
62, broach a matter.
Broken, II. v. 19, fallen out, quar-
relled ; <r/..Cor., IV. vi. 61.
Broker, I. ii. 43, go-between.
Burden, I. ii. 91, oase accompani-
ment ; cf As You, III. ii. 243.
Buried, IV. ii. no, three syl-
lables.
By, II. iv. 152, concerning.
Canker, I. i. 47, canker-worm ;
Mids. Ni^ht Dr., II. ii. 4.
Ceased, V. iv. 36, two syllables.
Censure, I. ii. 21, pass judgment ;
cf. Ham., III. ii. 91.
Cestern'd {testerned), I. i. 143,
given a sixpence or testril ; cf
Tw. Night, II. iii. 34-6.
Character' d, II. vii. 6, stress on
second syllable ; written.
Circumstance, I. i. 40, 88, deduc-
tion from evidence ; cf. Cymb.,
II. iv. 78 ; I. i. 41, condition ;
Ham., I. iii. 109 ; III. ii. 38, de-
tails ; Errors, V. i. 19.
Cite, II. iv. 83, incite, invite ; 3
Hen. VI, II. 1.37.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Clerkly, II. i. 104, like a good
penman ; 2 Hen. VI, III. i. 188.
Close, V, iv. 125, union ; Tw.
Night, V. i, 169.
Coile {coil), I. ii. 108, turmoil ;
Temp., I. ii. 241.
Cold, IV. iv. 182, coldly received ;
Mer. of Veil., II. vii. 76.
Commit, V. iv. 84, sin, offend.
Compasse {compass), II. iv. 217,
IV. ii. 94, win, obtain.
Competitor, II. vi. 37, confederate ;
Love's Lab., II. i. 88.
Compleat {complete), II. iv. 71,
perfect, accomplished ; Hen.
VIII, III. ii. 68.
Composed, III. ii. 71, three sylla-
bles.
Conceit, III. ii. 19, opinion ;
Much Ado, II. i. 283.
Conceitless, IV. ii. 98, stupid.
Condition, III. i. 275, character,
quality ; Meas. for Meas., I. i.
62 ; V . iv. 147, four syllables.
Confession, V. ii. 46, four sylla-
bles, con-fe' she-on.
Confirmed, IV. iv. 105, three
syllables.
Cofisort, III. ii. 85, stress on first
syllable ; band of musicians ;
Iv. i. 66, stress on second sylla-
ble ; company.
Contents, III. i. 96, stress on sec-
ond syllable ; pleases.
Converse, I. iii, 34, converst {con-
versed), II. IV. 61, associate,
associated.
Crewes {crews), IV. i. 76, bands ;
cf. Rich. II, V. iii. 14.
Cry you mercy, V. iv. 102, I beg
your pardon ; Mer. Wives, IIL
V. 25.
Curst, III. i. 337, ill-tempered ;
Much Ado, II. 1. 21.
Daigne {deign), I. i. 150, not
disdain ; Ant. & Cleo., I. iv.
72.
DazeVd {dazzled), II. iv. 213,
apparently three syllables, daz-
el-ed.
Deepest {deefst), V. iv. 78, time
of one syllable.
Depart, V. iv. 104, departure ;
2 Hen. VI, I. i. 9.
Descant, I. ii. 102, stress on first
syllable ; second part, treble.
Delivered {delivered) , IV. iv. 73,
the subject • who ' is omitted.
Discover, III. ii. 78, show, ex-
press ; Much Ado, II. iii. 107 ;
discovered, V. v. 180, three syl-
lables.
Dispose, II. vii. 88, IV. i. 78, dis-
posal.
Doublet, II. iv. 22, inner coat or
waistcoat.
Dttmpe {dump), III. ii. 86, a slow
melody ; Rom. & Jul., IV. v.
iii[i].
Earnest, II. i. 154, token, prelimi-
nary payment; Errors, II. ii.
26.
Else, IV. ii. 127, otherwise, else-
where.
Empresse {empress'), V. iv. 150,
the possessive ending is often
omitted with words ending in an
* s' sound.
Enforce, IV. iii. 20, used without
' to ' before the dependent in-
finitive.
Engine, III. i. 142, instrument ;
Temp., IL i. 168.
Entertaine {entertain), II. iv.
102, take into service ; enter-
tained, IV. iv. 63, four syllables.
Exhibition, I. iii. 72, allowance ;
Oth., I. iii. 263.
Exile, III. ii. 5, stress on second
syllable.
Expedition, V. i. 8, five syllables,
ex-pe-di-ti-on.
Extrea7ne {extreme), II. vii. 24,
stress on first syllable.
Farthingale, II. vii. 53, IV. iv. 38,
hoop petticoat ; Mer. Wives, III.
iii. 58.
Feat7ire, II. iv. 71, outward ap-
pearance ; Temp., III. i. 64.
Figure, II. i..,i45, trick of rhetoric ;
Ham., II. ii. 109.
Fire, I. ii. 32, II. vii. 24, two syl-
lables,^'-^r.
Flatter with, IV. iv. 189, flatter ;
Tw. Night, I. v. 306.
Fond, I. i. 56, IV. iv. 197, doting.
Foole {fool), IV. iv. 95, expressing
pity or tenderness rather than
contempt.
For, I. ii. 144, for fear of.
For, II. iv. 178, III. i. 152, IV.
GLOSSARY
iii. 25 ; for why. III. i, 102, be-
cause.
Forlorne {forlorn), I. ii. 133,
stress on first syllable.
Forth, II. iv, 189, out ; Temp., V.
i. 240.
Fortuned, V, iv. 178, three sylla-
bles ; happened.
Give lis leave, III. i, 4, pray with-
draw ; Mer. Wives, II. ii. 150.
Give ye, II. i. 96, God give you.
Going, III. i. 372, walking ; cf. go.
Temp., III. ii. 20.
Graced, I. iii. 61, two syllables.
'Greed {greed), II. iv. 186, agreed.
Tarn, of Shr., II. i. 295.
Greefes {griefs), V. iv. 151,
grievances; Jul. Caes.,I. iii, 129.
Grievance, I. i. 20, IV. iii, 41,
grief.
Hallidome {halidom) , IV. ii. 139,
holiness. Christian faith.
Hallow-Masse {Hallowmas), II.
i. 26, All Saints' Day, Novem-
ber I.
Have, IV. i. 35, know, be skilled
in.
Hindered, II. vii. 29, three sylla-
bles.
Homely, I. i. 5, plain, dull.
Hose, II. i. 76, vii. 57, breeches.
Houres {hour's). III. ii. 9, two
syllables, ow-ers.
How ever {^however), I. i. 38, in
any case.
/ (ay), I. i. loo^, ii. 5, etc., yes.
Ivtpeachment, 1. iii. 18, discredit,
reproach ; Rich. Ill, II. ii. 25.
Importunacy, IV. ii. 114, main
stress on third syllable, im-por-
tu'-na-cy, urgent demanding.
Importune, I. iii. 16, III. i. 148,
stress on second syllable.
Impose, IV. iii. 12, command.
Impresse {impress). III. ii. 8,
stress on second syllable.
Infinite, II. vii. 72, an infinity ;
Much Ado, II. iii. 103.
Inherit, III. ii. 88, get possession
of ; Temp., II. ii. 184.
Inly, II. vii. 20, inner, within ;
3 Hen. VI, I. iv. 182.
integrity. III. ii. 78, sincerity ;
Meas. for Meas., IV. iL aoz.
Jade, III. i. 277, poor horst
worthless woman.
Jarres {jars), V, iv. 169, quar.
rels, discords ; Errors, I. i. 15.
Jerkin, II. iv. 21, short jacket
worn over the doublet.
Jolt-head, III. i. 289, blockhead ;
Tam. of Shr., IV. i. 160.
Keepe {keep), IV. iv. 12, restrain.
Kinde {kind), II. iii. 4, kindred ;
Temp., V. i. 29.
Knowst {know'st), V. iv. 168, one
syllable ; a common contraction.
Lac'd {laced), I. 1. loi, perhaps
' finely dressed,' or ' loose in
character.'
Leander, stress on second sylla-
ble, Le-an -der.
Learne {learn), II. vi. 15, V. iii
6, teach.
Lease, V. ii. 31, let to others.
Leave, II. vi. 19, III. i. 185, cease ;
IV. iv. 74, give up.
Letts {lets). III. i. 116, hinders;
Errors, II. i. no.
Liberall {liberal). III. i. 342.
wanton, loose ; Mer. of Ven.!
II. ii. 181.
Lies, IV. ii.^ 140, lodges ; Mer.
Wives, II. i. 163.
Likes, IV. ii.
Tam. of Shr., IV. iv. 65.
Lime, III. ii. 70, bird-lime.
Makes it strange, I. ii. in, pre-
tends to be shocked ; Tit. And.,
II. i. 90.
Manage, III. i. 250, wield ; Rom.
& Jul., I. i. 67.
Meane {mean), I. ii. 104, tenor:
Wint. Tale, IV. iii. ^^6 ; II. vii
7, III. i. 41, IV. iv, no, foi
the usual * means ' ; meanes
{means), V. iv. 146, contrive a
way ; Rich. Ill, V. iii. 46.
57. . 58, pleases ;
Measure^ V. iv. 136, reach
" ' ' li. 73, perhi
mate."
Meat, I.
aps pronounced
Minion J I. ii. 96, loi, spoiled
favorite.
Months ntinde {moneth's mind)
I. ii. 145, months two syllables;
yearning.
Moode {mood), IV. L 53, rage
Errors, II. ii. 171.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Most, IV. ii. 144, double superla-
tive ; c/. Wint. Tale, I. ii. 166.
Motion, II. i. 93, puppet-show;
Wint. Tale, IV. iii. 98.
Mouth, III. i. 323, a sweet mouth,
a sweet tooth.
Muse, I. iii. 67, wonder ; All's
Well, II. y. 70.
Mutton, I. i. 100, 102, woman of
low repute ; Mer. of Ver., I. iii.
172.
Nicke (nt'ck), IV. ii. 75, notch,
tally, reckoning.
Noddy, I. i. 115, 126, simpleton.
Ocean, II. vii. 34, three syllables,
0' -she-an.
Omitting, II. iv. 63, neglecting ;
cf. Temp., I. ii. 215.
On, IV. ii. 73, of.
One, II. i. 5, pronounced like on,
1. 4; III. i. 266, single, not double.
On-set {onset). III. ii. 95, begin-
ning ; Sonn.90, II.
Ore-look' d {overlooked'), I. ii. 53,
read ; Mids. Night Dr., II. ii.
127.
Owe, V, ii. 30, own, possess ;
Meas, for Meas., I. iv. 93.
Padua, II. V. 3, apparently a mis-
take for * Milan.'
Pageants, IV. iv. 161, show,
drama ; Temp., IV. i. 177.
Panthino, I. iii. 3, 79, stress on
second syllable, Pan-thee'-no.
Pardon, III. ii. 99, excuse for
absence.
Par'le \parle), I. ii. 7, talk, con-
versation ; Ham., I. i. 78.
Parted, I. i. 75, parting, II. iii.
14, 15 : parts, IV. ii. 80, de-
parted, departure, etc.
Passenger, IV. i. 3, 74, V. iv. 18,
passer-by.
Passioning, IV. iv. 169, passion-
ately grieving ; cf. Temp., V. i.
30-
Peevish, III, i. 71, V. ii. 54, way-
ward.
Peremptory, I. iii. 74, stress on
first syllable.
Perfected, I. iii. 26, stress on first
syllable.
Perfections, II. iv. 214, four sylla-
bles, per-fec' -sht'Ons.
Persevers, III. ii, 30, stress on
second syllable, per-sev' -ers ;
continues.
Phaeton, III. i. 156, three sylla-
bles, _/iy/V^-^«.
Pitfold, I. i. Ill, pen, place for
confining animals ; Lear, II. ii.
10.
Post, I. i. 151, messenger.
Practising, IV. i. 50, plotting ; cf.
John, IV. i. 25.
Praise, III. i. 339, appraise, test ;
Tro. & Cres., III. ii. 89.
Prescjitly, II. iv. 84, immediately ;
Temp., 1. ii. 147.
Pretence, III. i. 50, design ; Wint.
Tale, III. ii. 19.
Pretended, II. vi. 39, intended ;
I Hen. VI, IV. i. 9.
Principalitie {principality), II.
iv. 153, angel of highest order.
Print, II. i. 165, in print, to the
letter, exactly.
Proper, IV, i. 12, fine-looking ;
Temp., II. ii. 65.
Protestation, I. ii. 108, five sylla-
bles, pro-tes-ta-she-on.
Protheus, I. i. 4, 15, etc., generally
two syllables, stress on first,
Pro'-thyus, sometimes three,
Pro-the-us,
Publisher, III. i. 50, discloser ;
Lucr., 1. 33.
Puling, II. i. 26, whining ; Rom,
& Jul., III. v. 199,
Quality, IV. i. 60, business ;
Meas. for Meas., II. i. 65.
Queintly {quaintly), II. i. 119,
quaintly. III. i, 120, cleverly.
Quips, IV. ii. 14, pointed jests ;
Mer. Wives, I. iii. 37.
Quoat {quote), II. iv. 20, pro-
nounced like * coat ' ; note, dis-
cover ; Rom. & Jul., I. iv. 31 ;
Love's Lab., II. i. 262, V. ii,
859-
Ravell {ravel). III. ii. 54, be-
come entangled ; cf. Macb., II.
ii. 48.
Reasoning, II. i. 140, talking ;
Errors, III. ii. 55.
Receive, V. iv. 86, acknowledge ;
Mer. Wives, V. v. 132.
Record, V. iv. 9, sing ; Per, IV,
Pro. 28.
GLOSSARY
Reformed, V. iv. 165, three sylla-
bles.
Remorse-full {remorseful), IV.
iii. 17, compassionate ; All's
Well, V. iii. 71.
Repeale {repeal), V. iv. 152, re-
call from exile ; All's Well, II.
iii. 50.
Reputation, II. vii. 89, five sylla-
bles, re-pu-ta' she-oil.
Resembleth, I. iii. 87, four sylla-
bles, re-sem-ble-eth.
Resolved, II. vi. 14, three sylla-
bles.
Respect, III. i. 92, IV. iv. 195, V.
iv. 23, care for.
Respective, IV. iv. 196, worthy of
regard.
Road, I. i. 57, II. iv. 190, port,
harbor.
Sad, I. iii. 3, serious ; Much Ado,
I. iii. 56.
Scape, V. iii. 13, escape ; Temp.,
II. ii. 126.
Seduced, IV. ii. 99, three syllables.
Servant, II. i. 98, 104, 131, friend,
suitor ; II. i. 98, 104, 131, iv. 3, 10,
?4, 103, etc., gallant, admirer ;
V. iii. 8, friend, well-wisher.
Set, I. ii. 87, set to music ; Temp.,
I. ii. loi ; II. i. 85, seated ;
I Hen. IV, II. iv. 433-
Severall {several), I. ii. 117,
separate ; Mer. Wives, III. v. 98.
Shapelesse {shapeless), I. i. 11,
purposeless.
She, II. i. 44, her ; Meas. for
Meas., III. i. 233.
Sheepe {sheep), I. i. 77, pro-
nounced like ' ship ' ; Love's
Lab., II. i. 232, 234.
Shot, II. V. 10, reckoning, charge ;
Cymb., V. iv. 164.
Silly, IV. i. 74, helpless ; 3 Hen.
VI, I. i^. 274.
Sith, I. 11. 135, smce.
Sluggardiz'd {sluggardized) , I.
i. 10, sunk in sloth.
.S"^, II. i. 128, be it so ; Mer.
Wives, III. iv, 66.
Sodaine {sudden), IV. ii. 14,
c^uick, sharp; Hen. VIII, V.
ill. 157-
So-hough, Soa hough {soho). III.
i. 192, hunters' cry on starting
game.
Sommer {summer) -swelling, IL
iv. 164, growing in summer.
Sort, III. ii. 93, select ; i Hen.
VI, II. iii. 29.
Speed, III. i. 296, patron ; As
You, I. ii. 203.
Speed, IV. iv. 109, succeed ; Mer.
Wives, II. ii. 252.
Statue, IV. iv. 202, image.
Steed, II. i. 109, be of service to ;
Meas. for Meas., I. iv. 21.
Still, I. iii. 14, V. iv. 46, always ;
Temp., III. iii. 85.
Still an {on) end, IV. iv. 62, con-
tinually.
Stocke {stock). III. i. 306, stocking.
Stomacke {stomach), I. ii. 73,
temper, appetite ; 2 Hen. VI, II.
i. 66 ; I Hen. IV, II. iii. 42.
Suggested, III. i. 37, tempted ;
All's Well, IV. V. 46.
Swing'd {swinged), II. i. 81, III.
>• 375» beaten.
Table, II. vii. s, tablet ; Tro. &
Cres., IV. V. 71.
Tarriance, II, vii. 92, stay ; Pas.
Pil.,74.
Tender, IV. iv. 142, regard, care
for ; "Temp., II. i. 296.
Tender, V. iv. 40, dear.
That, II. i. 31, III. i. 112, 1x5, 132,
ii. 6, IV. IV. 158, V. iv. 178, so
that.
Throughly, I. ii. 124, thoroughly ;
Temp., III. iii. i8.
Timelesse {timeless), HI. i. 24,
untimely ; Rich. II, IV. i. 9.
Tincture, IV. iv. 157, tint, color ;
Wint. Tale, III. ii. 221.
To, I. i. 61, depends on letters ;
II. iv. 159, object omitted,
'someone'; III. i. 87, for;
Mer. Wives, III. iii. 89 ; IV. ii.
99, as to.
Tongues, IV. i. 35, foreign lan-
guages.
Too-too, II. iv. 208, far too ; Mer.
Wives, II. ii. 237.
Tooke {took), V. iv. 113, taken;
Trenched, HI. ii. 9, two sylla-
bles ; carved.
Trencher, IV. iv. 11, wooden
plate.
Triumphes {triumphs), V. iv.
170, festive pageants.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
Turn* (turn), II, ii. 6, prove
untrue.
Tyre (tire), IV. iv. i86, headdress.
Unadvts'd (unadvised), IV, iv.
124, inadvertently.
Up and downe (down), II. iii, 31,
altogether, exactly.
Valentinus, I. iii, 70, stress on
third syllable, Val-en-ti' nus.
Very, III. ii, 43, true ; Ham., II.
ii. 56.
Waxed, III. i. 231, two syllables.
Weedes (weeds), II. vii. 44, gar-
ments ; Much Ado, V. iii. 31 ;
Tw. Night, V. i;..289.
Were, I. i. 105, iii. 27, originally
impersonal, with the following
infinitive as subject and the
personal pronoun in the dative,
now changed to nominative.
What, I. ii. 56, what a ; Jul,
Caes., I. iii. 49.
Where, III. i. 77, whereas ; Love's
Lab., II. i. no.
Who, III. i. 203, whom ; Cor., II.
i. 10.
Winke (wink), I. ii. 147, II. iv.
96, V. li, 15, shut the eyes.
With, II. i. 31, IV. ii. 47, by.
Withall (withal), V. iv. 161, used
for ' with ' at the end of a clause,
when the object precedes or is
not expressed.
Wot, IV. iv. 28. know ; Rich. II,
II. ii. 42.
Would (wood), II. iii. 30, mad;
Mids. Night Dr., II. i. 200.
Wreaking (recking), IV. iii. 44,
caring ; cf. As You, II. iv. 86.
Wreathe, II. i. 20, fold; Tit.
And., II. iii. 28.
Yoked, I. i. 44, two syllables.
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
GLOSSARY
Absolute, III. ill. 56, perfect ;
Ham., V.ii. ii2[2]; Temp.,I.ii.
128.
Abstract, IV. ii. 56, inventory.
Additions, II. ii. 281, titles ; All's
Well, II. iii. 138 ; Lear, V. iii.
73» 337 ; Macb. III. i. 121.
Addresse (^address). III. v. i2<^,
make ready; All's Well, III. vi.
100.
Admittance, II. ii. 216, III. iii. 52,
acceptance, 0/ admittance, re-
ceived, approved.
Affective, II. i. 130, affected.
Aggravate, II. ii. 268, add to.
Aime {aim). III. ii, a cry of en-
couragement to archers.
Allhalloiumas {all-hallowmas) ,
I. i. 188, All Saints' Day, Novem-
ber I.
Allowed {^allowed), II. ii. 218, ap-
proved; cf. 2 Hen. IV, IV. ii. 58.
A-manie (a many). III. iii. 64,
many ; cf.^ z. few,' * many a.'
A maze, V. iii. 19, v. 225, confuse ;
Meas. for Meas., IV. ii, 220,
Amiable, II, ii. 224, amorour ;
Much AdOj III. iii. 146.
Angels, I, iii, 48, gold coins.
An-heires {mynheers) , II. i. 199,
gentlemen.
Armigero, I, i, 13, squire, corrupt
for Latin arjniger.
Attends, I, i, 245, waits for.
Authenticke {authentic), II. ii.
217, of acknowledged authority ;
All's Well, II. iii. 13.
A-vis'd {avised), I. iv, 94, ad-
vised, aware ; Meas. for Meas.,
II. ii. 160.
Ballow {bailie), I. iv. 82, fetch ;
found only here.
Beholding, I. i. 248, under obliga-
tion ; Meas. for Meas., IV. iii.
177.
Bestow, IV. ii. 43, v. 106, find a
place for, hide ; Errors, I. ii. 82.
Bil-berry, V, v. 50, whortleberry.
Bilboe {bilbo), I. i. 150, sword.
Bloudy {bloody), V, v. 102, in the
blood.
Body-kins {bodykins) ,\\. iii, 43
an oath by the sacramental bread
Bolt, III. iv. 29, blunt arrow.
Boorded {boarded) , II. i. 81, ad
dressed, wooed ; Tam, of Shr.
I, ii. 97 ; cf. Tw, Night, I, iii. 5
Breede {breed) = bate, I. iv, 13
breeder of dissension.
Brewage, III. v. 31, brewed beer
Brib'd {bribed), V. v. 28, cut into
pieces.
Buck-basket, III, iii, 5, clothes
basket.
Bucking, III, iii. 118, washing ;
cf. 2 Hen. VI, IV. ii. 49.
Buck-washing, III. iii. 138,
laundry work.
Bully, I. iii. 8, II, i. 197, etc.,
dashing fellow.
Bully Rooke {bully-rook) ,\. iii. 4,
II, i. 187, etc, gallant,
Canarie {canary). III. ii. 78,
sweet wine from the Canaries.
Canaries, II. ii. 62, 64, quan-
dary,
Car-eires (careers), I. 1. 165, race
limits.
Carion {carrion). III. iii. 173,
spoiled flesh, a term of con-
tempt.
Carves, I, iii. 40, shows courtesy ;
Love's Lab., V. iii. 362.
Casheerd {cashiered), I, i. 164,
eased of his cash ; casheere, I,
iii, 8, discharge,
Cataian, II. i. 132, Chinaman,
cheat.
Cat-a-Moiintaine {mountain) , II.
ii. a8, wild-cat.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
Chaires {chairs) of order, V. v.
66, seats of the Knights of the
Garter.
Challices {chalices). III. v. 27,
goblets.
Characterie {charactery), stress
on second syllable ; writing ;
Jul. Caes., II. i. 338.
Charge, II. ii. 156, burden, put to
expense.
Charinesse {chariness) , II. i. 91,
scrupulousness.
Charmes {charms), II. ii. 102,
enchantments.
Cheaters, I. iii. 63, forfeit-col-
lectors.
Clapper-claw, II. iii. 62, thrask ;
Tro. & Cres., V, iv. 2.
Clearkly {clerkly), IV. v. 58,
scholarly.
Coate {coat), I. i. 19, V. v. 68,
coat-of-arms.
Cocke, I. i. 27s, corruption of
' God,' in oaths.
Cog, III. i. 108, iii. 42, wheedle,
deceive ; Much Ado, V. i. 106.
Colours, III. iv. 84, standards ;
John, V. ii. 78 ; colour, IV. iii.
148, pretext ; Two Gen. of Vcr.,
IV. ii. 5.
Come off, IV. iii. 13, pay down.
Compatiion, III. i. 108, fellow, in a
contemptuous sense.
Conceited, I. iii. 22, ingenious.
Confidence, I. iv. 149, conference,
conversation.
Conicatch,\. iii. 31, conycatching,
I. i. 120, cheat, cheating; Tam. of
Shr., V. i. 98.
Contents, IV. vi. 15, stress on sec-
ond syllable.
Contrary, II. 1. 189, different.
Convay {convey), I. iii. 27, steal;
Rich. II, IV. i. 323.
Conversation, II. i. 22, behaviour ;
Ant. & Cleo., II. vi. 145.
Coram, I. i. 10, corruption of * quo-
rum' (?).
Costard, III. i. 17^ apple, head ;
Love's Lab., III. 1. 73.
Couch, V. i. 3, v. 53, lie, hide ;
Much Ado, III. i. 33.
Countrie {country), I. i. 201, dis-
trict.
Cowle-staffe {cowl-staff) , III. iii.
130, pole for suspen(Eng a heavy
burden.
Curnnto {corttuto). III. v. 64,
cuckold.
Cut, III. iv. 48, docked, a term of
contempt.
Dawbry {datibery), IV. ii. 163,
imposture.
Dickens, III. ii. 18, an oath, per-
haps 'devilkins.'
Diffused, IV. iv. 58, three sylla-
bles ; uncouth.
Distemper, III. iii. 194, v. 69, IV.
ii. 26, ill temper.
Dole^ III. iv. 67, lot ; Tam. of Shr.,
I. I. 144.
Doublet, III. i. 40, inner coat.
Doubt, I. iv. 39, fear, suspect ;
John, IV. i. 24.
Drawer, II, ii. 151, tapster, waiter:
I Hen. IV, II. IV. 7.
Drumble, III. iii. 131, dawdle.
Eld, IV. iv. 39, the olden time.
Elder, II. iii. 29, elder wood.
En-sconce {ensconce), II. ii. 28,
III. iii. 81, shelter, hide.
Entertaine {entertaiti) , I. iii. 12,
49, take into service ; Two Gen.
of Ver., II. iv. 102.
Ephesian, IV. v. 20, boon com-
panion ; 2 Hen, IV, II. ii. 140.
Eringoes, V. v. 24, sea-holly, sup-
posed to act as a love charm.
Evitate, V. v. 233, avoid.
Expressure, V. v. 72, expression,
form of words ; Tro. & Cres.,
III. iii. 213,
Eyas-musket, III, iii. i, little
hawk.
Fall, I, i, 232, for ' fault.'
Fallow, I. i. 85, fawn-coloured,
Fap, I, i. 164, drunk.
Farthingale, III. iii. 58, hooped
petticoat ; Two Gen. of Ver.,
II. vii. 53.
Fartuous^ H. ii. 96, for ' virtuous.'
Fault, I, 1, 89, III, iii. 195, misfor-
tune ; Per., IV. n. 71.
Fee-simple, IV. ii. 195, absolute
ownership.
Fellow, V. V. 30, game-keeper.
Fico, I. iii, 27, fig.
Fights, II. ii. 130, canvas screens
used during naval battles.
Figures, IV. ii. 201, fancies ; Jul.
Cses., II. i. 257.
GLOSSARY
Fine, IV. ii, 196, in absolute posses-
sion.
Fixed, V. v. 44, two syllable.
Flannel, V. v. 171, a Welshman,
flannel being made in Wales.
Foigne {foin), II. iii. 24, thrust in
fencing ; 2 Hen. IV, II, i. 16.
Foolishion {foolisJt), III. iii. 173,
misprint, anticipating the ending
of the next word.
Forced, V. v. 235, two syllables.
Frampold, II. ii. 90, quarrelsome.
Frize, V, v. 146, coarse woollen.
Froth, I. iii. 15, raise the foam on
a tankard.
Fullam, I. iii. 79, loaded dice.
Gally-mawfry {galli-tnaufry) ,
II. i. 107, medley, here 'the female
sex ' ; Wint. Tale, IV. iv. 354.
Gar, I. iv, loi, etc., corruption of
' God.'
Geminy, II. ii. 11, pair of twins.
Give us leave, II. ii. 150, with-
draw; Two Gen. of Ver., III. i. 4.
Good-Jer {good-year) , I. iv. 113,
an oath, referring to a loathsome
disease, equivalent to * a pox on
it.'
Gourd, I. iii. 78, false dice.
Grated upon, II. ii. 8, vexed.
Groates (groats), I. i. 144, four-
penny bus.
Hacke {hack) , II. i. 47 ; hac, IV. i.
60, grow cheap ( ?)
Had rather. III. iii. no, good
English, the following clause
being the object of had = ' would
have.'
Haire {hair), II, iii. 39, grain,
nature ; cf. heire, i Hen. IV,
IV. i. 69.
Hardest, I. iii. 42, harshest,
Hauthorne {hawthorne) buds,
III, ii. 65, dandies.
Have with you, II. i. 143, 200,
I will go with you ; As You, I. ii.
255-
Having, HI. ii. 65, property ; As
You, III. ii. 363.
Havior {haviour) , I. iii. 71, de-
portment ; Tw. Night, III. iv.
204.
Hindes {hinds). III. v, 88, ser-
vants.
Holdf V. i. 3, keep to a bargain.
hold up: V. v. Ill, keep up ;
Mids. Night Dr., III. ii. 246.
Holliday {holiday). III. ii. 62,
choice language, not of every day.
Honest, I. iv, 128, 139, etc., virtu-
ous, chaste.
Honesty, II. i. 78, 91, etc., virtue.
Home {horn) -mad, I. iv. 47, mad
as a bull.
Humor, I. i. 126, humours, 152,
whim, whims.
Husband, IV. vi. 54, manage well ;
Tam. of Shr., In., i. 72.
/ {ay), I. 1. 123, 125, etc., yes,
very well.
Illiads {oeillades), I, iii, 53,
glances ; cf. eliads, Lear, IV, v.
Image, IV. vi. 19, idea ; Meas, for
Meas., III. i. 279.
Impatient, III. iv. 73, four sylla-
bles, im-pa'-she-ent.
Infection, II. ii. in, affection.
Ingross'd {engrossed) , II, ii, 188,
seized ; cf. All's Well, III. ii. 69.
Instance, II, ii, 234, example;
Errors, IV. iii. 88.
Intention, I. iii. 59, intentness ;
Wint. Tale, I. ii. 167.
Intolerable {intolerable), V. v.
161, monstrous, enormous,
//, II. i. 198, he, this, used for per-
son especially before ' is ' ; 2 Hen.
IV, III, ii. 264,
yack-a-lent, III, iii, 24, V. v. 134,
stuffed puppet.
yayes {Jays), III. iii. 37, immodest
women ; Cymb., III. iv. 52.
Keiser, I. iii. xi, Kaiser, German
emperor.
Kibes, I. iii. 30, chilblains ; Ham.
V. i. 145.
Kissing comfits, V. v. 24, scented
sugarplums.
Labras, I. i. 151, lips.
Larded, IV, vi, 16, garnished ;
Ham,, IV. V. 37.
Larum, III, v, 65, alarm ; 2 Hen.
IV, III. i. 19.
Latine {latten), I, i. 150, a soft
alloy of copper.
Laundry^ I. ii. 6, laundiess.
Lay, II. ii. 63, resided.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
Leere (Jeer), I. iii. 40, smiling
look,
Lemman {leman), IV. ii. 151,
lover ; Tw. Night, II. iii. 28.
Lewdsters, V, iii. 23, libertines.
Life, III. iii. 107, name, rteputation.
Liking, II. i. 52, bodily condition ;
I Hen. IV, III. iii. 7.
Liquor, IV. V. gSj grease.
Live {iime), I. iii. 16, make liquor
sparkle.
Loves, II. ii. no, for love's sake ;
Mids. Night Dr., II. ii. 160.
Luces, I. i. 19, pike (fish) .
Lurch, II. ii. 27, rob ; Cor. II. ii.
Luxurie (^luxury), V. v. loi,
wantonness ; Mej
V.i,556,
[eas. for Meas.,
Lye {lie), II. i. 163, lodge.
Made, II. i. 215, did.
Make, I. iv. 103, see meddle; IV.
ii. 48, do.
Marry trap, I, i. 155, you are
caught (?).
Me, I. iii. 50,51,1V. ii. 137, ethical
dative.
Meddle or make, I. iv. 103, make
mischief ; Much Ado, III. iii. 52.
Metheglins, V. v. 167, mead, a
drink of fermented honey.
Middle earth, V. v. 85, the human
world.
Mill-sixpences, I. i. 144, milled
sixpences.
Moniant, II. iii. 27, upward stroke
in fencing.
Motion, I. i. 55, 198, III. iv. 66,
proposal.
Mountaine {mountain), I. i. 149,
ultramontane, barbarous.
Muse, V. V. 245, be melancholy ;
TwoGen. ofVer., II. i. 166.
Nay-word, II. ii. 121, password.
Nut-hooks, I. i. 155, term of con-
tempt, thief ; 2 Hen. IV, V. iv.
Obsequious, IV. ii. 5, zealous ;
Meas. for Meas., II. iv. 31.
Odd's-hart-lings {Od's heart-
lings), III. iv. 59, an oath, by
* God's heart.'
Od's-Nownes {Od's nouns), IV. i.
23, corruption of ' God's wounds.'
Old, I, iv. 7, intensive, ' tall ' ;
Mer. of Ven., IV. ii. 19.
Ore-look' d {o'er-looked), V. v. 88,
bewitched.
Orke {ork), I. i. 135, III. i. 17,
work.
Other, II. ii. 237, other of ; Lear, I.
iv. 219.
Ouphes, IV. iv. 53, V. v. 62, goblins.
Oyes, V. v. 46, hear ye !
Pairing {paring)-\imi&,\, iv. 22,
round-bladed cutter.
Parcell {parcel), I. i. 210, part ;
Errors, V. i. 114.
Passant, I. i. 22, walking, in
heraldry.
Passes,VJ. ii. 113, past {passed),
I. i. 271, exceeds, exceeded
bounds.
Pauca, verba, I. i. 116 ; patica,
I. i. 126, few words, briefly ;
Hen. V. II. i. 75.
Peaking, III. v. 64, sneaking ; cf.
Ham. II. ii. 590.
Peevish, I. iv. 15, foolish.
Pentioners {pensioners), II. ii.
77, the royal body-guard.
Period, IV. ii. 206, conclusion ;
2 Hen. IV, IV. v. 253.
Perpend, II. i. 107, consider, a
clown's word; As You, III. ii. 66,
Pheazar {Pheezar), I. iii. 11,
nonsense word from pheeze.
teaze ; cf. Tam. of Shr., In., i. 4.
Pinnasse {pinnace), I. iii. 73,
ship's tender, gig ; 2 Hen. VI,
IV. i. II.
Pipe-wine, III. ii. 80, wine from
the cask.
Pittie-ward, III. i. 8, toward the
pitty, or bear pit.
Plummet, V. v. 171, sounding lead.
Posset, I. iv. 10, V. V. 178, a dish
somewhat like a welsh rarebit.
Post-master, V. v. 195, keeper of
post-horses.
Pottle, II. i. 193, III. V. 28, two-
quart tankard.
Poulcat {polecat), IV. ii. 171,
skunk.
Prabbles, I. i. 55, brabbles, quar-
rels ; Tw. Night, V. i. 65; Hen.
V, IV. viii. 70.
Predominate, II. ii. 266, prevail,
an astrological term; Ails Well,
I. i. 203.
GLOSSARY
Preparations, II. ii. 219, accom-
plishments,
Pritnero, IV. v. loi, a game of
cards ; Hen. VIII, V. i, 12.
Property, III. iv. 14, tool, means ;
Jul, Css., IV. i. 45.
Puddings, II. i, 28, entrails of
animals, used to make meat
puddings.
Ptimpion, III. iii. 36, pumpkin.
Puficke {ptmk), II. li. 129,
strumpet.
Piincto iPunto), 11. iii, 26, a thrust
in fencing.
Putting downe (^down), II. i. 26,
abolishing.
Quaint, IV. vi. 42, elegant, artis-
tic ; Much Ado, III. iv. 21.
Quality, V. v. 45, business, duties ;
Hen. V, III. vi. 139.
Quarter, I. i. 26, quarter one's
arms.
Queane {quean), IV. ii. 158, slut.
Quick, III. iv. 90, alive ; Wint.
Tale, IV. iv. 153.
Ranke (rank), IV. vi. 24, strong,
hot, cf. Ham., III. iv. 162.
Red-lattice, II. ii. 29, of ale-house
windows.
Relent, II. ii. 32, repent.
Reverse, II, iii, 26, back stroke in
fencing.
Runnion (ronyon), IV. ii. 171,
mangy creature ; Macb. I. iii.
9-
Rushling, II. ii. 68, rustling,
Sacke {sack), II. i, 11, Spanish
white wine,
Sadnesse {sadness). III. v. 113,
seriousness.
Scall, III, i. 107, scald, scabby.
Scape, II. i. 4, III, v. 106, 136, be
saved from.
Scut, V, V, 22, short tail.
Sea-cole {coal), I, iv. 11, mineral
coal ; 2 Hen, IV, II. i. 78,
Secure, II. i, 212, li, 283, careless,
unsuspecting.
Semi-circled, III. iii. 57, having
no hoop in front,
Severall {several) , III. v. 98, V. v.
66, separate ; Meas. for Meas.,
11. IV. 4.
Shaft, III.
iv. 29, sharp arrow.
Shent, I, iv. 36, scolded, punished ;
Tw. Night, IV. ii. 105.
Ship-tyre {tire), III. iii. 51, head-
dress with hanging cords or
draperies,
Shovelboords (-boards), I. i. 144,
broad shillings, used in the game
of this name.
Shrewd, II, ii. 214, evil ; Meas.
for Meas,, II. i. 246.
Simples, I. iv. 60, III, iii, 66, medic-
inal herbs; Rom,& Jul., V. i,
46.
Sir, 1, i. 6, 192, etc., a title of the
clergy ; As You, III. iii, 39,
Sit, I, iii. 10, have as my expenses,
Slacke (slack). III. iv. 112,
neglect.
Slighted, III. V, 10, tossed.
Small, I, i, 48, high, treble ; Tw.
Night, I, iv. 35 ; Mids, Night Dr.,
I. ii. 47.
Softly-sprighted, I. iv. 25, soft-
spirited, mild.
Something, IV. v. 24, somewhat.
Soone (soon) at night, I. iv. 10,
II. ii, 268, to-night.
Sot, III. i. 103, fool; Temp., III.
ii. 98.
Sped, III, V. 61, had good luck.
Sprag, IV. i, 75, ready.
Staggering, III, iii, 13, hesitating ;
cf. Meas, for Meas,, I, ii, 164.
Stale, II, iii. 26, horse-urine,
Stampes (stamps). III. iv, 20,
coins ; Cymb., V, iv, 28,
Stile (style), II. ii. 269, list of
titles.
Stoccado's (stoccadoes) , II. i. 204,
thrusts in fencing.
Stock, II. iii, 26, same as stoccado.
Straine (strain), II. i. 80, quality.
Sufferance, IV, ii, 4, sufferings ;
I Hen, IV, V, i. 58.
Supposed, IV, iv. 66, three sylla-
bles, sup-pos-ed.
Swing' d (swinged), V, v. 193,
beaten ; cf. Two Gen, of Ver,,
II, i. 81.
Takes, IV. iv. 35, bewitches ;
Ham., I. i, 162,
Taking, III, iii, 160, fright ; Lucr,
1. 453:
Tall, I. iv. 26, II, i. 207, ii. 13,
strong, sturdy ; Wint. Tale, V.
ii. 164.
MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR
Tester, I. iii. 80, sixpence.
That, III. V. 81, so that.
Thick skin, IV. v. 4, blockhead ;
Mids. Night Dr., III. ii. 15.
Thorough, IV. v. 33, through.
Thoroughly, I. iv. 84, thoroughly.
Thrufn'd {thrtcMuned), IV. ii. 71,
tufted, made of coarse ends of
yarn.
Tightly, I. iii. 72, promptly; II. iii.
62, soundly.
Tire, III. iii. 51, head-dress.
To, III. iii. 89, for ; Temp. II. i.
78.
Tonight {to-night), III. iii. 142,
last night ; Much Ado, III. v.
Too-too, II. ii. 237, much too ;
Mer. of Ven., II, vi. 49.
Toyes {toys) , V. v. 47, trifles ;
Ant. & Clco., V. ii. 197.
Traile {trail), IV. ii. 183, scent
of game.
Traverse, II. iii, 25, change of
places (?).
Tricking, IV. iv. 86, costumes.
Troa {trow), I. iv. 122, wonder.
Truckle-bed, IV. v. 10, trundle-
bed, on casters, put under the
larger bed during the day.
Turne {turn), V. v. 92, put ;
Temp., I, ii, 80.
Tyre-valiant, III. iii. 51,3 fashion
in head-dressing.
Uncape, III. iii. 146, unearth.
Unduteous, V. v. 232, undutiful,
Unseason'd {unseasofied) , II, ii.
159, unseasonable, ill-timed ; 2
Hen. IV, III. i. 106.
Unwaied {unweighed) , II. i, 20,
ill-considered.
Urchins, IV. iv. 53, imps, goblins.
Vagrant, III. i. 23, random, vaga-
bond ; Much Ado, III. iii, 26.
Veneys, I. i. 259, bouts, rounds ;
cf. Love's Lab., V. i. 59,
Viza-ments {vizentents), I. i. 40,
considerations, thoughts.
Vizards, IV. iv, 77, masks.
Vlowting-stog, III. i, 105, for
• flouting-stock,' laughing-stock.
Voice, I. iii. 42, interpretation,
expression.
Wag, I. iii. 8, II. i. 209, iii. 67, be
off.
Ward, II. iii. 236, posture of
defence ; Temp,, I, ii. 552.
Warrener, I. iv. 28, keeper of a
close for birds or rabbits.
Wash, III. iii. 139, rid.
Watcht {watched), V. v. 108,
tamed by sleeplessness, a term of
falconry.
Were, III. iii. 178, originally an
impersonal verb, * it were,' the
preceding pronoun being dative
and the following verb or clause
the subject.
When as {whenas). III. i. 22,
when.
Whiting, III. iii. 118, bleaching.
Whitsters, III. iii. 14, bleachers.
Who more bold, IV. v. 55, the
boldest.
Wide, of. III. i. 52, indifferent to.
Winke {wink), V. v. 53, shut the
eyea ; Temp,, II. i, 229.
Wise, I. iii. 27, initiate, rogues.
Wise-woman, IV. v. 28, 59,
woman skilled in fortune telling,
etc.; Tw. Night, III. iv. 106.
With, III. V. 99, by.
Wittoll, II. ii. 282, cuckold.
Wittolly, II, ii. 257, cuckoldy.
Woodman, V. v. 31, hunter,
poacher.^
Worts, I. i. 117, herbs.
Wot, II. ii. 87, know ; Love's Lab.,
I. i. 96.
Wrongs, IV. ii. 142, is unworthy
of.
Yallowness {yellowness), I. iii.
94, jealousy.
Yead, I. i. 146, abbreviation of
Edward.
Yern, III. v. 39, grieve ; Rich. II,
V. V. 79.
Yoakes {yokes), V, v, 113, horns.
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