part I

will not be, though I should win your displeasure to entreat me too't

Corn. What was th' offence you gaue him? Ste. I neuer gaue him any: It pleas'd the King his Master very late To strike at me vpon his misconstruction, When he compact, and flattering his displeasure Tript me behind: being downe, insulted, rail'd, And put vpon him such a deale of Man, That worthied him, got praises of the King, For him attempting, who was selfe-subdued, And in the fleshment of this dead exploit, Drew on me here againe

Kent. None of these Rogues, and Cowards But Aiax is there Foole

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks? You stubborne ancient Knaue, you reuerent Bragart, Wee'l teach you

Kent. Sir, I am too old to learne: Call not your Stocks for me, I serue the King. On whose imployment I was sent to you, You shall doe small respects, show too bold malice Against the Grace, and Person of my Master, Stocking his Messenger

Corn. Fetch forth the Stocks; As I haue life and Honour, there shall he sit till Noone

Reg. Till noone? till night my Lord, and all night too

Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Fathers dog, You should not vse me so

Reg. Sir, being his Knaue, I will.

Stocks brought out.

Cor. This is a Fellow of the selfe same colour, Our Sister speakes of. Come, bring away the Stocks

Glo. Let me beseech your Grace, not to do so, The King his Master, needs must take it ill That he so slightly valued in his Messenger, Should haue him thus restrained

Cor. Ile answere that

Reg. My Sister may recieue it much more worsse, To haue her Gentleman abus'd, assaulted

Corn. Come my Lord, away. Enter.

Glo. I am sorry for thee friend, 'tis the Dukes pleasure, Whose disposition all the world well knowes Will not be rub'd nor stopt, Ile entreat for thee

Kent. Pray do not Sir, I haue watch'd and trauail'd hard, Some time I shall sleepe out, the rest Ile whistle: A good mans fortune may grow out at heeles: Giue you good morrow

Glo. The Duke's too blame in this, 'Twill be ill taken. Enter.

Kent. Good King, that must approue the common saw, Thou out of Heauens benediction com'st To the warme Sun. Approach thou Beacon to this vnder Globe, That by thy comfortable Beames I may Peruse this Letter. Nothing almost sees miracles But miserie. I know 'tis from Cordelia, Who hath most fortunately beene inform'd Of my obscured course. And shall finde time From this enormous State, seeking to giue Losses their remedies. All weary and o're-watch'd, Take vantage heauie eyes, not to behold This shamefull lodging. Fortune goodnight, Smile once more, turne thy wheele. Enter Edgar.

Edg. I heard my selfe proclaim'd, And by the happy hollow of a Tree, Escap'd the hunt. No Port is free, no place That guard, and most vnusall vigilance Do's not attend my taking. Whiles I may scape I will preserue myselfe: and am bethought To take the basest, and most poorest shape That euer penury in contempt of man, Brought neere to beast; my face Ile grime with filth, Blanket my loines, else all my haires in knots, And with presented nakednesse out-face The Windes, and persecutions of the skie; The Country giues me proofe, and president Of Bedlam beggers, who with roaring voices, Strike in their num'd and mortified Armes. Pins, Wodden-prickes, Nayles, Sprigs of Rosemarie: And with this horrible obiect, from low Farmes, Poore pelting Villages, Sheeps-Coates, and Milles, Sometimes with Lunaticke bans, sometime with Praiers Inforce their charitie: poore Turlygod poore Tom, That's something yet: Edgar I nothing am. Enter.

Enter Lear, Foole, and Gentleman.

Lea. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from home, And not send backe my Messengers

Gent. As I learn'd, The night before, there was no purpose in them Of this remoue

Kent. Haile to thee Noble Master

Lear. Ha? Mak'st thou this shame thy pastime? Kent. No my Lord

Foole. Hah, ha, he weares Cruell Garters Horses are tide by the heads, Dogges and Beares by'th' necke, Monkies by'th' loynes, and Men by'th' legs: when a man ouerlustie at legs, then he weares wodden nether-stocks

Lear. What's he, That hath so much thy place mistooke To set thee heere? Kent. It is both he and she, Your Son, and Daughter

Lear. No

Kent. Yes

Lear. No I say

Kent. I say yea

Lear. By Iupiter I sweare no

Kent. By Iuno, I sweare I

Lear. They durst not do't: They could not, would not do't: 'tis worse then murther, To do vpon respect such violent outrage: Resolue me with all modest haste, which way Thou might'st deserue, or they impose this vsage, Comming from vs

Kent. My Lord, when at their home I did commend your Highnesse Letters to them, Ere I was risen from the place, that shewed My dutie kneeling, came there a reeking Poste, Stew'd in his haste, halfe breathlesse, painting forth From Gonerill his Mistris, salutations; Deliuer'd Letters spight of intermission, Which presently they read; on those contents They summon'd vp their meiney, straight tooke Horse, Commanded me to follow, and attend The leisure of their answer, gaue me cold lookes, And meeting heere the other Messenger, Whose welcome I perceiu'd had poison'd mine, Being the very fellow which of late Displaid so sawcily against your Highnesse, Hauing more man then wit about me, drew; He rais'd the house, with loud and coward cries, Your Sonne and Daughter found this trespasse worth The shame which heere it suffers

Foole. Winters not gon yet, if the wil'd Geese fly that way, Fathers that weare rags, do make their Children blind, But Fathers that beare bags, shall see their children kind. Fortune that arrant whore, nere turns the key toth' poore. But for all this thou shalt haue as many Dolors for thy Daughters, as thou canst tell in a yeare

Lear. Oh how this Mother swels vp toward my heart! Historica passio, downe thou climing sorrow, Thy Elements below where is this Daughter? Kent. With the Earle Sir, here within

Lear. Follow me not, stay here. Enter.

Gen. Made you no more offence, But what you speake of? Kent. None: How chance the King comes with so small a number? Foole. And thou hadst beene set i'th' Stockes for that question, thoud'st well deseru'd it

Kent. Why Foole? Foole. Wee'l set thee to schoole to an Ant, to teach thee ther's no labouring i'th' winter. All that follow their noses, are led by their eyes, but blinde men, and there's not a nose among twenty, but can smell him that's stinking; let go thy hold when a great wheele runs downe a hill, least it breake thy necke with following. But the great one that goes vpward, let him draw thee after: when a wiseman giues thee better counsell giue me mine againe, I would haue none but knaues follow it, since a Foole giues it. That Sir, which serues and seekes for gaine, And followes but for forme; Will packe, when it begins to raine, And leaue thee in the storme, But I will tarry, the Foole will stay, And let the wiseman flie: The knaue turnes Foole that runnes away, The Foole no knaue perdie. Enter Lear, and Gloster] : Kent. Where learn'd you this Foole? Foole. Not i'th' Stocks Foole

Lear. Deny to speake with me? They are sicke, they are weary, They haue trauail'd all the night? meere fetches, The images of reuolt and flying off. Fetch me a better answer

Glo. My deere Lord, You know the fiery quality of the Duke, How vnremoueable and fixt he is In his owne course

Lear. Vengeance, Plague, Death, Confusion: Fiery? What quality? Why Gloster, Gloster, I'ld speake with the Duke of Cornewall, and his wife

Glo. Well my good Lord, I haue inform'd them so

Lear. Inform'd them? Do'st thou vnderstand me man

Glo. I my good Lord

Lear. The King would speake with Cornwall, The deere Father Would with his Daughter speake, commands, tends, seruice, Are they inform'd of this? My breath and blood: Fiery? The fiery Duke, tell the hot Duke that- No, but not yet, may be he is not well, Infirmity doth still neglect all office, Whereto our health is bound, we are not our selues, When Nature being opprest, commands the mind To suffer with the body; Ile forbeare, And am fallen out with my more headier will, To take the indispos'd and sickly fit, For the sound man. Death on my state: wherefore Should he sit heere? This act perswades me, That this remotion of the Duke and her Is practise only. Giue me my Seruant forth; Goe tell the Duke, and's wife, Il'd speake with them: Now, presently: bid them come forth and heare me, Or at their Chamber doore Ile beate the Drum, Till it crie sleepe to death

Glo. I would haue all well betwixt you. Enter.

Lear. Oh me my heart! My rising heart! But downe

Foole. Cry to it Nunckle, as the Cockney did to the Eeles, when she put 'em i'th' Paste aliue, she knapt 'em o'th' coxcombs with a sticke, and cryed downe wantons, downe; 'twas her Brother, that in pure kindnesse to his Horse buttered his Hay. Enter Cornewall, Regan, Gloster, Seruants.

Lear. Good morrow to you both

Corn. Haile to your Grace.

Kent here set at liberty.

Reg. I am glad to see your Highnesse

Lear. Regan, I thinke you are. I know what reason I haue to thinke so, if thou should'st not be glad, I would diuorce me from thy Mother Tombe, Sepulchring an Adultresse. O are you free? Some other time for that. Beloued Regan, Thy Sisters naught: oh Regan, she hath tied Sharpe-tooth'd vnkindnesse, like a vulture heere, I can scarce speake to thee, thou'lt not beleeue With how deprau'd a quality. Oh Regan

Reg. I pray you Sir, take patience, I haue hope You lesse know how to value her desert, Then she to scant her dutie

Lear. Say? How is that? Reg. I cannot thinke my Sister in the least Would faile her Obligation. If Sir perchance She haue restrained the Riots of your Followres, 'Tis on such ground, and to such wholesome end, As cleeres her from all blame

Lear. My curses on her

Reg. O Sir, you are old, Nature in you stands on the very Verge Of his confine: you should be rul'd, and led By some discretion, that discernes your state Better then you your selfe: therefore I pray you, That to our Sister, you do make returne, Say you haue wrong'd her

Lear. Aske her forgiuenesse? Do you but marke how this becomes the house? Deere daughter, I confesse that I am old; Age is vnnecessary: on my knees I begge, That you'l vouchsafe me Rayment, Bed, and Food

Reg. Good Sir, no more: these are vnsightly trickes: Returne you to my Sister

Lear. Neuer Regan: She hath abated me of halfe my Traine; Look'd blacke vpon me, strooke me with her Tongue Most Serpent-like, vpon the very Heart. All the stor'd Vengeances of Heauen, fall On her ingratefull top: strike her yong bones You taking Ayres, with Lamenesse

Corn. Fye sir, fie

Le. You nimble Lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornfull eyes: Infect her Beauty, You Fen-suck'd Fogges, drawne by the powrfull Sunne, To fall, and blister

Reg. O the blest Gods! So will you wish on me, when the rash moode is on

Lear. No Regan, thou shalt neuer haue my curse: Thy tender-hefted Nature shall not giue Thee o're to harshnesse: Her eyes are fierce, but thine Do comfort, and not burne. 'Tis not in thee To grudge my pleasures, to cut off my Traine, To bandy hasty words, to scant my sizes, And in conclusion, to oppose the bolt Against my comming in. Thou better know'st The Offices of Nature, bond of Childhood, Effects of Curtesie, dues of Gratitude: Thy halfe o'th' Kingdome hast thou not forgot, Wherein I thee endow'd

Reg. Good Sir, to'th' purpose.

Tucket within.

Lear. Who put my man i'th' Stockes? Enter Steward.

Corn. What Trumpet's that? Reg. I know't, my Sisters: this approues her Letter, That she would soone be heere. Is your Lady come? Lear. This is a Slaue, whose easie borrowed pride Dwels in the sickly grace of her he followes. Out Varlet, from my sight

Corn. What meanes your Grace? Enter Gonerill.

Lear. Who stockt my Seruant? Regan, I haue good hope Thou did'st not know on't. Who comes here? O Heauens! If you do loue old men; if your sweet sway Allow Obedience; if you your selues are old, Make it your cause: Send downe, and take my part. Art not asham'd to looke vpon this Beard? O Regan, will you take her by the hand? Gon. Why not by'th' hand Sir? How haue I offended? All's not offence that indiscretion findes, And dotage termes so

Lear. O sides, you are too tough! Will you yet hold? How came my man i'th' Stockes? Corn. I set him there, Sir: but his owne Disorders Deseru'd much lesse aduancement

Lear. You? Did you? Reg. I pray you Father being weake, seeme so. If till the expiration of your Moneth You will returne and soiourne with my Sister, Dismissing halfe your traine, come then to me, I am now from home, and out of that prouision Which shall be needfull for your entertainement

Lear. Returne to her? and fifty men dismiss'd? No, rather I abiure all roofes, and chuse To wage against the enmity oth' ayre, To be a Comrade with the Wolfe, and Owle, Necessities sharpe pinch. Returne with her? Why the hot-bloodied France, that dowerlesse tooke Our yongest borne, I could as well be brought To knee his Throne, and Squire-like pension beg, To keepe base life a foote; returne with her? Perswade me rather to be slaue and sumpter To this detested groome

Gon. At your choice Sir

Lear. I prythee Daughter do not make me mad, I will not trouble thee my Child; farewell: Wee'l no more meete, no more see one another. But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my Daughter, Or rather a disease that's in my flesh, Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a Byle, A plague sore, or imbossed Carbuncle In my corrupted blood. But Ile not chide thee, Let shame come when it will, I do not call it, I do not bid the Thunder-bearer shoote, Nor tell tales of thee to high-iudging Ioue, Mend when thou can'st, be better at thy leisure, I can be patient, I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred Knights

Reg. Not altogether so, I look'd not for you yet, nor am prouided For your fit welcome, giue eare Sir to my Sister, For those that mingle reason with your passion, Must be content to thinke you old, and so, But she knowes what she doe's

Lear. Is this well spoken? Reg. I dare auouch it Sir, what fifty Followers? Is it not well? What should you need of more? Yea, or so many? Sith that both charge and danger, Speake 'gainst so great a number? How in one house Should many people, vnder two commands Hold amity? 'Tis hard, almost impossible

Gon. Why might not you my Lord, receiue attendance From those that she cals Seruants, or from mine? Reg. Why not my Lord? If then they chanc'd to slacke ye, We could comptroll them; if you will come to me, (For now I spie a danger) I entreate you To bring but fiue and twentie, to no more Will I giue place or notice

Lear. I gaue you all

Reg. And in good time you gaue it

Lear. Made you my Guardians, my Depositaries, But kept a reseruation to be followed With such a number? What, must I come to you With fiue and twenty? Regan, said you so? Reg. And speak't againe my Lord, no more with me

Lea. Those wicked Creatures yet do look wel fauor'd When others are more wicked, not being the worst Stands in some ranke of praise, Ile go with thee, Thy fifty yet doth double fiue and twenty, And thou art twice her Loue

Gon. Heare me my Lord; What need you fiue and twenty? Ten? Or fiue? To follow in a house, where twice so many Haue a command to tend you? Reg. What need one? Lear. O reason not the need: our basest Beggers Are in the poorest thing superfluous. Allow not Nature, more then Nature needs: Mans life is cheape as Beastes. Thou art a Lady; If onely to go warme were gorgeous, Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keepes thee warme, but for true need: You Heauens, giue me that patience, patience I need, You see me heere (you Gods) a poore old man, As full of griefe as age, wretched in both, If it be you that stirres these Daughters hearts Against their Father, foole me not so much, To beare it tamely: touch me with Noble anger, And let not womens weapons, water drops, Staine my mans cheekes. No you vnnaturall Hags, I will haue such reuenges on you both, That all the world shall- I will do such things, What they are yet, I know not, but they shalbe The terrors of the earth? you thinke Ile weepe, No, Ile not weepe, I haue full cause of weeping.

Storme and Tempest.

But this heart shal break into a hundred thousand flawes Or ere Ile weepe; O Foole, I shall go mad.

Exeunt.

Corn. Let vs withdraw, 'twill be a Storme

Reg. This house is little, the old man and's people, Cannot be well bestow'd

Gon. 'Tis his owne blame hath put himselfe from rest, And must needs taste his folly

Reg. For his particular, Ile receiue him gladly, But not one follower

Gon. So am I purpos'd, Where is my Lord of Gloster? Enter Gloster.

Corn. Followed the old man forth, he is return'd

Glo. The King is in high rage

Corn. Whether is he going? Glo. He cals to Horse, but will I know not whether

Corn. 'Tis best to giue him way, he leads himselfe

Gon. My Lord, entreate him by no meanes to stay

Glo. Alacke the night comes on, and the high windes Do sorely ruffle, for many Miles about There's scarce a Bush

Reg. O Sir, to wilfull men, The iniuries that they themselues procure, Must be their Schoole-Masters: shut vp your doores, He is attended with a desperate traine, And what they may incense him too, being apt, To haue his eare abus'd, wisedome bids feare

Cor. Shut vp your doores my Lord, 'tis a wil'd night, My Regan counsels well: come out oth' storme.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Storme still. Enter Kent, and a Gentleman, seuerally.

Kent. Who's there besides foule weather? Gen. One minded like the weather, most vnquietly

Kent. I know you: Where's the King? Gent. Contending with the fretfull Elements; Bids the winde blow the Earth into the Sea, Or swell the curled Waters 'boue the Maine, That things might change, or cease

Kent. But who is with him? Gent. None but the Foole, who labours to out-iest His heart-strooke iniuries

Kent. Sir, I do know you, And dare vpon the warrant of my note Commend a deere thing to you. There is diuision (Although as yet the face of it is couer'd With mutuall cunning) 'twixt Albany, and Cornwall: Who haue, as who haue not, that their great Starres Thron'd and set high; Seruants, who seeme no lesse, Which are to France the Spies and Speculations Intelligent of our State. What hath bin seene, Either in snuffes, and packings of the Dukes, Or the hard Reine which both of them hath borne Against the old kinde King; or something deeper, Whereof (perchance) these are but furnishings

Gent. I will talke further with you

Kent. No, do not: For confirmation that I am much more Then my out-wall; open this Purse, and take What it containes. If you shall see Cordelia, (As feare not but you shall) shew her this Ring, And she will tell you who that Fellow is That yet you do not know. Fye on this Storme, I will go seeke the King

Gent. Giue me your hand, Haue you no more to say? Kent. Few words, but to effect more then all yet; That when we haue found the King, in which your pain That way, Ile this: He that first lights on him, Holla the other.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Storme still. Enter Lear, and Foole.

Lear. Blow windes, & crack your cheeks; Rage, blow You Cataracts, and Hyrricano's spout, Till you haue drench'd our Steeples, drown the Cockes. You Sulph'rous and Thought-executing Fires, Vaunt-curriors of Oake-cleauing Thunder-bolts, Sindge my white head. And thou all-shaking Thunder, Strike flat the thicke Rotundity o'th' world, Cracke Natures moulds, all germaines spill at once That makes ingratefull Man

Foole. O Nunkle, Court holy-water in a dry house, is better then this Rain-water out o' doore. Good Nunkle, in, aske thy Daughters blessing, heere's a night pitties neither Wisemen, nor Fooles

Lear. Rumble thy belly full: spit Fire, spowt Raine: Nor Raine, Winde, Thunder, Fire are my Daughters; I taxe not you, you Elements with vnkindnesse. I neuer gaue you Kingdome, call'd you Children; You owe me no subscription. Then let fall Your horrible pleasure. Heere I stand your Slaue, A poore, infirme, weake, and dispis'd old man: But yet I call you Seruile Ministers, That will with two pernicious Daughters ioyne Your high-engender'd Battailes, 'gainst a head So old, and white as this. O, ho! 'tis foule

Foole. He that has a house to put's head in, has a good Head-peece: The Codpiece that will house, before the head has any; The Head, and he shall Lowse: so Beggers marry many. The man y makes his Toe, what he his Hart shold make, Shall of a Corne cry woe, and turne his sleepe to wake. For there was neuer yet faire woman, but shee made mouthes in a glasse. Enter Kent

Lear. No, I will be the patterne of all patience, I will say nothing

Kent. Who's there? Foole. Marry here's Grace, and a Codpiece, that's a Wiseman, and a Foole

Kent. Alas Sir are you here? Things that loue night, Loue not such nights as these: The wrathfull Skies Gallow the very wanderers of the darke And make them keepe their Caues: Since I was man, Such sheets of Fire, such bursts of horrid Thunder, Such groanes of roaring Winde, and Raine, I neuer Remember to haue heard. Mans Nature cannot carry Th' affliction, nor the feare

Lear. Let the great Goddes That keepe this dreadfull pudder o're our heads, Finde out their enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch, That hast within thee vndivulged Crimes Vnwhipt of Iustice. Hide thee, thou Bloudy hand; Thou Periur'd, and thou Simular of Vertue That art Incestuous. Caytiffe, to peeces shake That vnder couert, and conuenient seeming Ha's practis'd on mans life. Close pent-vp guilts, Riue your concealing Continents, and cry These dreadfull Summoners grace. I am a man, More sinn'd against, then sinning

Kent. Alacke, bare-headed? Gracious my Lord, hard by heere is a Houell, Some friendship will it lend you 'gainst the Tempest: Repose you there, while I to this hard house, (More harder then the stones whereof 'tis rais'd, Which euen but now, demanding after you, Deny'd me to come in) returne, and force Their scanted curtesie

Lear. My wits begin to turne. Come on my boy. How dost my boy? Art cold? I am cold my selfe. Where is this straw, my Fellow? The Art of our Necessities is strange, And can make vilde things precious. Come, your Houel; Poore Foole, and Knaue, I haue one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee

Foole. He that has and a little-tyne wit, With heigh-ho, the Winde and the Raine, Must make content with his Fortunes fit, Though the Raine it raineth euery day

Le. True Boy: Come bring vs to this Houell. Enter.

Foole. This is a braue night to coole a Curtizan: Ile speake a Prophesie ere I go: When Priests are more in word, then matter; When Brewers marre their Malt with water; When Nobles are their Taylors Tutors, No Heretiques burn'd, but wenches Sutors; When euery Case in Law, is right; No Squire in debt, nor no poore Knight; When Slanders do not liue in Tongues; Nor Cut-purses come not to throngs; When Vsurers tell their Gold i'th' Field, And Baudes, and whores, do Churches build, Then shal the Realme of Albion, come to great confusion: Then comes the time, who liues to see't, That going shalbe vs'd with feet. This prophecie Merlin shall make, for I liue before his time. Enter.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Gloster, and Edmund.

Glo. Alacke, alacke Edmund, I like not this vnnaturall dealing; when I desired their leaue that I might pity him, they tooke from me the vse of mine owne house, charg'd me on paine of perpetuall displeasure, neither to speake of him, entreat for him, or any way sustaine him

Bast. Most sauage and vnnaturall

Glo. Go too; say you nothing. There is diuision betweene the Dukes, and a worsse matter then that: I haue receiued a Letter this night, 'tis dangerous to be spoken, I haue lock'd the Letter in my Closset, these iniuries the King now beares, will be reuenged home; ther is part of a Power already footed, we must incline to the King, I will looke him, and priuily relieue him; goe you and maintaine talke with the Duke, that my charity be not of him perceiued; If he aske for me, I am ill, and gone to bed, if I die for it, (as no lesse is threatned me) the King my old Master must be relieued. There is strange things toward Edmund, pray you be carefull. Enter.

Bast. This Curtesie forbid thee, shall the Duke Instantly know, and of that Letter too; This seemes a faire deseruing, and must draw me That which my Father looses: no lesse then all, The yonger rises, when the old doth fall. Enter.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Lear, Kent, and Foole.

Kent. Here is the place my Lord, good my Lord enter, The tirrany of the open night's too rough For Nature to endure.

Storme still

Lear. Let me alone

Kent. Good my Lord enter heere

Lear. Wilt breake my heart? Kent. I had rather breake mine owne, Good my Lord enter

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storme Inuades vs to the skin so: 'tis to thee, But where the greater malady is fixt, The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a Beare, But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, Thou'dst meete the Beare i'th' mouth, when the mind's free, The bodies delicate: the tempest in my mind, Doth from my sences take all feeling else, Saue what beates there, Filliall ingratitude, Is it not as this mouth should teare this hand For lifting food too't? But I will punish home; No, I will weepe no more; in such a night, To shut me out? Poure on, I will endure: In such a night as this? O Regan, Gonerill, Your old kind Father, whose franke heart gaue all, O that way madnesse lies, let me shun that: No more of that

Kent. Good my Lord enter here

Lear. Prythee go in thy selfe, seeke thine owne ease, This tempest will not giue me leaue to ponder On things would hurt me more, but Ile goe in, In Boy, go first. You houselesse pouertie, Enter.

Nay get thee in; Ile pray, and then Ile sleepe. Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme, How shall your House-lesse heads, and vnfed sides, Your lop'd, and window'd raggednesse defend you From seasons such as these? O I haue tane Too little care of this: Take Physicke, Pompe, Expose thy selfe to feele what wretches feele, That thou maist shake the superflux to them, And shew the Heauens more iust. Enter Edgar, and Foole.

Edg. Fathom, and halfe, Fathom and halfe; poore Tom

Foole. Come not in heere Nuncle, here's a spirit, helpe me, helpe me

Kent. Giue my thy hand, who's there? Foole. A spirite, a spirite, he sayes his name's poore Tom

Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i'th' straw? Come forth

Edg. Away, the foule Fiend followes me, through the sharpe Hauthorne blow the windes. Humh, goe to thy bed and warme thee

Lear. Did'st thou giue all to thy Daughters? And art thou come to this? Edgar. Who giues any thing to poore Tom? Whom the foule fiend hath led through Fire, and through Flame, through Sword, and Whirle-Poole, o're Bog, and Quagmire, that hath laid Kniues vnder his Pillow, and Halters in his Pue, set Rats-bane by his Porredge, made him Proud of heart, to ride on a Bay trotting Horse, ouer foure incht Bridges, to course his owne shadow for a Traitor. Blisse thy fiue Wits, Toms a cold. O do, de, do, de, do, de, blisse thee from Whirle-Windes, Starre-blasting, and taking, do poore Tom some charitie, whom the foule Fiend vexes. There could I haue him now, and there, and there againe, and there.

Storme still.

Lear. Ha's his Daughters brought him to this passe? Could'st thou saue nothing? Would'st thou giue 'em all? Foole. Nay, he reseru'd a Blanket, else we had bin all sham'd

Lea. Now all the plagues that in the pendulous ayre Hang fated o're mens faults, light on thy Daughters

Kent. He hath no Daughters Sir

Lear. Death Traitor, nothing could haue subdu'd Nature To such a lownesse, but his vnkind Daughters. Is it the fashion, that discarded Fathers, Should haue thus little mercy on their flesh: Iudicious punishment, 'twas this flesh begot Those Pelicane Daughters

Edg. Pillicock sat on Pillicock hill, alow: alow, loo, loo

Foole. This cold night will turne vs all to Fooles, and Madmen

Edgar. Take heed o'th' foule Fiend, obey thy Parents, keepe thy words Iustice, sweare not, commit not, with mans sworne Spouse: set not thy Sweet-heart on proud array. Tom's a cold

Lear. What hast thou bin? Edg. A Seruingman? Proud in heart, and minde; that curl'd my haire, wore Gloues in my cap; seru'd the Lust of my Mistris heart, and did the acte of darkenesse with her. Swore as many Oathes, as I spake words, & broke them in the sweet face of Heauen. One, that slept in the contriuing of Lust, and wak'd to doe it. Wine lou'd I deerely, Dice deerely; and in Woman, out-Paramour'd the Turke. False of heart, light of eare, bloody of hand; Hog in sloth, Foxe in stealth, Wolfe in greedinesse, Dog in madnes, Lyon in prey. Let not the creaking of shooes, Nor the rustling of Silkes, betray thy poore heart to woman. Keepe thy foote out of Brothels, thy hand out of Plackets, thy pen from Lenders Bookes, and defye the foule Fiend. Still through the Hauthorne blowes the cold winde: Sayes suum, mun, nonny, Dolphin my Boy, Boy Sesey: let him trot by.

Storme still.

Lear. Thou wert better in a Graue, then to answere with thy vncouer'd body, this extremitie of the Skies. Is man no more then this? Consider him well. Thou ow'st the Worme no Silke; the Beast, no Hide; the Sheepe, no Wooll; the Cat, no perfume. Ha? Here's three on's are sophisticated. Thou art the thing it selfe; vnaccommodated man, is no more but such a poore, bare, forked Animall as thou art. Off, off you Lendings: Come, vnbutton heere. Enter Gloucester, with a Torch.

Foole. Prythee Nunckle be contented, 'tis a naughtie night to swimme in. Now a little fire in a wilde Field, were like an old Letchers heart, a small spark, all the rest on's body, cold: Looke, heere comes a walking fire

Edg. This is the foule Flibbertigibbet; hee begins at Curfew, and walkes at first Cocke: Hee giues the Web and the Pin, squints the eye, and makes the Hare-lippe; Mildewes the white Wheate, and hurts the poore Creature of earth. Swithold footed thrice the old, He met the Night-Mare, and her nine-fold; Bid her a-light, and her troth-plight, And aroynt thee Witch, aroynt thee

Kent. How fares your Grace? Lear. What's he? Kent. Who's there? What is't you seeke? Glou. What are you there? Your Names? Edg. Poore Tom, that eates the swimming Frog, the Toad, the Tod-pole, the wall-Neut, and the water: that in the furie of his heart, when the foule Fiend rages, eats Cow-dung for Sallets; swallowes the old Rat, and the ditch-Dogge; drinkes the green Mantle of the standing Poole: who is whipt from Tything to Tything, and stockt, punish'd, and imprison'd: who hath three Suites to his backe, sixe shirts to his body: Horse to ride, and weapon to weare: But Mice, and Rats, and such small Deare, Haue bin Toms food, for seuen long yeare: Beware my Follower. Peace Smulkin, peace thou Fiend

Glou. What, hath your Grace no better company? Edg. The Prince of Darkenesse is a Gentleman. Modo he's call'd, and Mahu

Glou. Our flesh and blood, my Lord, is growne so vilde, that it doth hate what gets it

Edg. Poore Tom's a cold

Glou. Go in with me; my duty cannot suffer T' obey in all your daughters hard commands: Though their Iniunction be to barre my doores, And let this Tyrannous night take hold vpon you, Yet haue I ventured to come seeke you out, And bring you where both fire, and food is ready

Lear. First let me talke with this Philosopher, What is the cause of Thunder? Kent. Good my Lord take his offer, Go into th' house

Lear. Ile talke a word with this same lerned Theban: What is your study? Edg. How to preuent the Fiend, and to kill Vermine

Lear. Let me aske you one word in priuate

Kent. Importune him once more to go my Lord, His wits begin t' vnsettle

Glou. Canst thou blame him?

Storm still

His Daughters seeke his death: Ah, that good Kent, He said it would be thus: poore banish'd man: Thou sayest the King growes mad, Ile tell thee Friend I am almost mad my selfe. I had a Sonne, Now out-law'd from my blood: he sought my life But lately: very late: I lou'd him (Friend) No Father his Sonne deerer: true to tell thee, The greefe hath craz'd my wits. What a night's this? I do beseech your grace

Lear. O cry you mercy, Sir: Noble Philosopher, your company

Edg. Tom's a cold

Glou. In fellow there, into th' Houel; keep thee warm

Lear. Come, let's in all

Kent. This way, my Lord

Lear. With him; I will keepe still with my Philosopher

Kent. Good my Lord, sooth him: Let him take the Fellow

Glou. Take him you on

Kent. Sirra, come on: go along with vs

Lear. Come, good Athenian

Glou. No words, no words, hush

Edg. Childe Rowland to the darke Tower came, His word was still, fie, foh, and fumme, I smell the blood of a Brittish man.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Cornwall, and Edmund.

Corn. I will haue my reuenge, ere I depart his house

Bast. How my Lord, I may be censured, that Nature thus giues way to Loyaltie, something feares mee to thinke of

Cornw. I now perceiue, it was not altogether your Brothers euill disposition made him seeke his death: but a prouoking merit set a-worke by a reprouable badnesse in himselfe

Bast. How malicious is my fortune, that I must repent to be iust? This is the Letter which hee spoake of; which approues him an intelligent partie to the aduantages of France. O Heauens! that this Treason were not; or not I the detector

Corn. Go with me to the Dutchesse

Bast. If the matter of this Paper be certain, you haue mighty businesse in hand

Corn. True or false, it hath made thee Earle of Gloucester: seeke out where thy Father is, that hee may bee ready for our apprehension

Bast. If I finde him comforting the King, it will stuffe his suspition more fully. I will perseuer in my course of Loyalty, though the conflict be sore betweene that, and my blood

Corn. I will lay trust vpon thee: and thou shalt finde a deere Father in my loue.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Kent, and Gloucester.

Glou. Heere is better then the open ayre, take it thankfully: I will peece out the comfort with what addition I can: I will not be long from you.

Exit

Kent. All the powre of his wits, haue giuen way to his impatience: the Gods reward your kindnesse. Enter Lear, Edgar, and Foole.

Edg. Fraterretto cals me, and tells me Nero is an Angler in the Lake of Darknesse: pray Innocent, and beware the foule Fiend

Foole. Prythee Nunkle tell me, whether a madman be a Gentleman, or a Yeoman

Lear. A King, a King

Foole. No, he's a Yeoman, that ha's a Gentleman to his Sonne: for hee's a mad Yeoman that sees his Sonne a Gentleman before him

Lear. To haue a thousand with red burning spits Come hizzing in vpon 'em

Edg. Blesse thy fiue wits

Kent. O pitty: Sir, where is the patience now That you so oft haue boasted to retaine? Edg. My teares begin to take his part so much, They marre my counterfetting

Lear. The little dogges, and all; Trey, Blanch, and Sweet-heart: see, they barke at me

Edg. Tom, will throw his head at them: Auaunt you Curres, be thy mouth or blacke or white: Tooth that poysons if it bite: Mastiffe, Grey-hound, Mongrill, Grim, Hound or Spaniell, Brache, or Hym: Or Bobtaile tight, or Troudle taile, Tom will make him weepe and waile, For with throwing thus my head; Dogs leapt the hatch, and all are fled. Do, de, de, de: sese: Come, march to Wakes and Fayres, And Market Townes: poore Tom thy horne is dry, Lear. Then let them Anatomize Regan: See what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in Nature that make these hard-hearts. You sir, I entertaine for one of my hundred; only, I do not like the fashion of your garments. You will say they are Persian; but let them bee chang'd. Enter Gloster.

Kent. Now good my Lord, lye heere, and rest awhile

Lear. Make no noise, make no noise, draw the Curtaines: so, so, wee'l go to Supper i'th' morning

Foole. And Ile go to bed at noone

Glou. Come hither Friend: Where is the King my Master? Kent. Here Sir, but trouble him not, his wits are gon

Glou. Good friend, I prythee take him in thy armes; I haue ore-heard a plot of death vpon him: There is a Litter ready, lay him in't, And driue toward Douer friend, where thou shalt meete Both welcome, and protection. Take vp thy Master, If thou should'st dally halfe an houre, his life With thine, and all that offer to defend him, Stand in assured losse. Take vp, take vp, And follow me, that will to some prouision Giue thee quicke conduct. Come, come, away.

Exeunt.

Scena Septima.

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Gonerill, Bastard, and Seruants.

Corn. Poste speedily to my Lord your husband, shew him this Letter, the Army of France is landed: seeke out the Traitor Glouster

Reg. Hang him instantly

Gon. Plucke out his eyes

Corn. Leaue him to my displeasure. Edmond, keepe you our Sister company: the reuenges wee are bound to take vppon your Traitorous Father, are not fit for your beholding. Aduice the Duke where you are going, to a most festinate preparation: we are bound to the like. Our Postes shall be swift, and intelligent betwixt vs. Farewell deere Sister, farewell my Lord of Glouster. Enter Steward.

How now? Where's the King? Stew. My Lord of Glouster hath conuey'd him hence Some fiue or six and thirty of his Knights Hot Questrists after him, met him at gate, Who, with some other of the Lords, dependants, Are gone with him toward Douer; where they boast To haue well armed Friends

Corn. Get horses for your Mistris

Gon. Farewell sweet Lord, and Sister.

Exit

Corn. Edmund farewell: go seek the Traitor Gloster, Pinnion him like a Theefe, bring him before vs: Though well we may not passe vpon his life Without the forme of Iustice: yet our power Shall do a curt'sie to our wrath, which men May blame, but not comptroll. Enter Gloucester, and Seruants.

Who's there? the Traitor? Reg. Ingratefull Fox, 'tis he

Corn. Binde fast his corky armes

Glou. What meanes your Graces? Good my Friends consider you are my Ghests: Do me no foule play, Friends

Corn. Binde him I say

Reg. Hard, hard: O filthy Traitor

Glou. Vnmercifull Lady, as you are, I'me none

Corn. To this Chaire binde him, Villaine, thou shalt finde

Glou. By the kinde Gods, 'tis most ignobly done To plucke me by the Beard

Reg. So white, and such a Traitor? Glou. Naughty Ladie, These haires which thou dost rauish from my chin Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your Host, With Robbers hands, my hospitable fauours You should not ruffle thus. What will you do? Corn. Come Sir. What Letters had you late from France? Reg. Be simple answer'd, for we know the truth

Corn. And what confederacie haue you with the Traitors, late footed in the Kingdome? Reg. To whose hands You haue sent the Lunaticke King: Speake

Glou. I haue a Letter guessingly set downe Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart, And not from one oppos'd

Corn. Cunning

Reg. And false

Corn. Where hast thou sent the King? Glou. To Douer

Reg. Wherefore to Douer? Was't thou not charg'd at perill

Corn. Wherefore to Douer? Let him answer that

Glou. I am tyed to'th' Stake, And I must stand the Course

Reg. Wherefore to Douer? Glou. Because I would not see thy cruell Nailes Plucke out his poore old eyes: nor thy fierce Sister, In his Annointed flesh, sticke boarish phangs. The Sea, with such a storme as his bare head, In Hell-blacke-night indur'd, would haue buoy'd vp And quench'd the Stelled fires: Yet poore old heart, he holpe the Heauens to raine. If Wolues had at thy Gate howl'd that sterne time, Thou should'st haue said, good Porter turne the Key: All Cruels else subscribe: but I shall see The winged Vengeance ouertake such Children

Corn. See't shalt thou neuer. Fellowes hold y Chaire, Vpon these eyes of thine, Ile set my foote

Glou. He that will thinke to liue, till he be old, Giue me some helpe. - O cruell! O you Gods

Reg. One side will mocke another: Th' other too

Corn. If you see vengeance

Seru. Hold your hand, my Lord: I haue seru'd you euer since I was a Childe: But better seruice haue I neuer done you, Then now to bid you hold

Reg. How now, you dogge? Ser. If you did weare a beard vpon your chin, I'ld shake it on this quarrell. What do you meane? Corn. My Villaine? Seru. Nay then come on, and take the chance of anger

Reg. Giue me thy Sword. A pezant stand vp thus?

Killes him.

Ser. Oh I am slaine: my Lord, you haue one eye left To see some mischefe on him. Oh

Corn. Lest it see more, preuent it; Out vilde gelly: Where is thy luster now? Glou. All darke and comfortlesse? Where's my Sonne Edmund? Edmund, enkindle all the sparkes of Nature To quit this horrid acte

Reg. Out treacherous Villaine, Thou call'st on him, that hates thee. It was he That made the ouerture of thy Treasons to vs: Who is too good to pitty thee

Glou. O my Follies! then Edgar was abus'd, Kinde Gods, forgiue me that, and prosper him

Reg. Go thrust him out at gates, and let him smell His way to Douer. Exit with Glouster.

How is't my Lord? How looke you? Corn. I haue receiu'd a hurt: Follow me Lady; Turne out that eyelesse Villaine: throw this Slaue Vpon the Dunghill: Regan, I bleed apace, Vntimely comes this hurt. Giue me your arme.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. Yet better thus, and knowne to be contemn'd, Then still contemn'd and flatter'd, to be worst: The lowest, and most deiected thing of Fortune, Stands still in esperance, liues not in feare: The lamentable change is from the best, The worst returnes to laughter. Welcome then, Thou vnsubstantiall ayre that I embrace: The Wretch that thou hast blowne vnto the worst, Owes nothing to thy blasts. Enter Glouster, and an Oldman.

But who comes heere? My Father poorely led? World, World, O world! But that thy strange mutations make vs hate thee, Life would not yeelde to age

Oldm. O my good Lord, I haue bene your Tenant, And your Fathers Tenant, these fourescore yeares

Glou. Away, get thee away: good Friend be gone, Thy comforts can do me no good at all, Thee, they may hurt

Oldm. You cannot see your way

Glou. I haue no way, and therefore want no eyes: I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seene, Our meanes secure vs, and our meere defects Proue our Commodities. Oh deere Sonne Edgar, The food of thy abused Fathers wrath: Might I but liue to see thee in my touch, I'ld say I had eyes againe

Oldm. How now? who's there? Edg. O Gods! Who is't can say I am at the worst? I am worse then ere I was

Old. 'Tis poore mad Tom

Edg. And worse I may be yet: the worst is not, So long as we can say this is the worst

Oldm. Fellow, where goest? Glou. Is it a Beggar-man? Oldm. Madman, and beggar too

Glou. He has some reason, else he could not beg. I'th' last nights storme, I such a fellow saw; Which made me thinke a Man, a Worme. My Sonne Came then into my minde, and yet my minde Was then scarse Friends with him. I haue heard more since: As Flies to wanton Boyes, are we to th' Gods, They kill vs for their sport

Edg. How should this be? Bad is the Trade that must play Foole to sorrow, Ang'ring it selfe, and others. Blesse thee Master

Glou. Is that the naked Fellow? Oldm. I, my Lord

Glou. Get thee away: If for my sake Thou wilt ore-take vs hence a mile or twaine I'th' way toward Douer, do it for ancient loue, And bring some couering for this naked Soule, Which Ile intreate to leade me

Old. Alacke sir, he is mad

Glou. 'Tis the times plague, When Madmen leade the blinde: Do as I bid thee, or rather do thy pleasure: Aboue the rest, be gone

Oldm. Ile bring him the best Parrell that I haue Come on't what will.

Exit

Glou. Sirrah, naked fellow

Edg. Poore Tom's a cold. I cannot daub it further

Glou. Come hither fellow

Edg. And yet I must: Blesse thy sweete eyes, they bleede

Glou. Know'st thou the way to Douer? Edg. Both style, and gate; Horseway, and foot-path: poore Tom hath bin scarr'd out of his good wits. Blesse thee good mans sonne, from the foule Fiend

Glou. Here take this purse, y whom the heau'ns plagues Haue humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched Makes thee the happier: Heauens deale so still: Let the superfluous, and Lust-dieted man, That slaues your ordinance, that will not see Because he do's not feele, feele your powre quickly: So distribution should vndoo excesse, And each man haue enough. Dost thou know Douer? Edg. I Master

Glou. There is a Cliffe, whose high and bending head Lookes fearfully in the confined Deepe: Bring me but to the very brimme of it, And Ile repayre the misery thou do'st beare With something rich about me: from that place, I shall no leading neede

Edg. Giue me thy arme; Poore Tom shall leade thee.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Gonerill, Bastard, and Steward.

Gon. Welcome my Lord. I meruell our mild husband Not met vs on the way. Now, where's your Master? Stew. Madam within, but neuer man so chang'd: I told him of the Army that was Landed: He smil'd at it. I told him you were comming, His answer was, the worse. Of Glosters Treachery, And of the loyall Seruice of his Sonne When I inform'd him, then he call'd me Sot, And told me I had turn'd the wrong side out: What most he should dislike, seemes pleasant to him; What like, offensiue

Gon. Then shall you go no further. It is the Cowish terror of his spirit That dares not vndertake: Hee'l not feele wrongs Which tye him to an answer: our wishes on the way May proue effects. Backe Edmond to my Brother, Hasten his Musters, and conduct his powres. I must change names at home, and giue the Distaffe Into my Husbands hands. This trustie Seruant Shall passe betweene vs: ere long you are like to heare (If you dare venture in your owne behalfe) A Mistresses command. Weare this; spare speech, Decline your head. This kisse, if it durst speake Would stretch thy Spirits vp into the ayre: Conceiue, and fare thee well

Bast. Yours in the rankes of death. Enter.

Gon. My most deere Gloster. Oh, the difference of man, and man, To thee a Womans seruices are due, My Foole vsurpes my body

Stew. Madam, here come's my Lord. Enter Albany.

Gon. I haue beene worth the whistle

Alb. Oh Gonerill, You are not worth the dust which the rude winde Blowes in your face

Gon. Milke-Liuer'd man, That bear'st a cheeke for blowes, a head for wrongs, Who hast not in thy browes an eye-discerning Thine Honor, from thy suffering

Alb. See thy selfe diuell: Proper deformitie seemes not in the Fiend So horrid as in woman

Gon. Oh vaine Foole. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Oh my good Lord, the Duke of Cornwals dead, Slaine by his Seruant, going to put out The other eye of Glouster

Alb. Glousters eyes

Mes. A Seruant that he bred, thrill'd with remorse, Oppos'd against the act: bending his Sword To his great Master, who, threat-enrag'd Flew on him, and among'st them fell'd him dead, But not without that harmefull stroke, which since Hath pluckt him after

Alb. This shewes you are aboue You Iustices, that these our neather crimes So speedily can venge. But (O poore Glouster) Lost he his other eye? Mes. Both, both, my Lord. This Leter Madam, craues a speedy answer: 'Tis from your Sister

Gon. One way I like this well. But being widdow, and my Glouster with her, May all the building in my fancie plucke Vpon my hatefull life. Another way The Newes is not so tart. Ile read, and answer

Alb. Where was his Sonne, When they did take his eyes? Mes. Come with my Lady hither

Alb. He is not heere

Mes. No my good Lord, I met him backe againe

Alb. Knowes he the wickednesse? Mes. I my good Lord: 'twas he inform'd against him And quit the house on purpose, that their punishment Might haue the freer course

Alb. Glouster, I liue To thanke thee for the loue thou shew'dst the King, And to reuenge thine eyes. Come hither Friend, Tell me what more thou know'st.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Cordelia, Gentlemen, and Souldiours.

Cor. Alacke, 'tis he: why he was met euen now As mad as the vext Sea, singing alowd. Crown'd with ranke Fenitar, and furrow weeds, With Hardokes, Hemlocke, Nettles, Cuckoo flowres, Darnell, and all the idle weedes that grow In our sustaining Corne. A Centery send forth; Search euery Acre in the high-growne field, And bring him to our eye. What can mans wisedome In the restoring his bereaued Sense; he that helpes him, Take all my outward worth

Gent. There is meanes Madam: Our foster Nurse of Nature, is repose, The which he lackes: that to prouoke in him Are many Simples operatiue, whose power Will close the eye of Anguish

Cord. All blest Secrets, All you vnpublish'd Vertues of the earth Spring with my teares; be aydant, and remediate In the Goodmans desires: seeke, seeke for him, Least his vngouern'd rage, dissolue the life That wants the meanes to leade it. Enter Messenger.

Mes. Newes Madam, The Brittish Powres are marching hitherward

Cor. 'Tis knowne before. Our preparation stands In expectation of them. O deere Father, It is thy businesse that I go about: Therfore great France My mourning, and importun'd teares hath pittied: No blowne Ambition doth our Armes incite, But loue, deere loue, and our ag'd Fathers Rite: Soone may I heare, and see him.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Regan, and Steward.

Reg. But are my Brothers Powres set forth? Stew. I Madam

Reg. Himselfe in person there? Stew. Madam with much ado: Your Sister is the better Souldier

Reg. Lord Edmund spake not with your Lord at home? Stew. No Madam

Reg. What might import my Sisters Letter to him? Stew. I know not, Lady

Reg. Faith he is poasted hence on serious matter: It was great ignorance, Glousters eyes being out To let him liue. Where he arriues, he moues All hearts against vs: Edmund, I thinke is gone In pitty of his misery, to dispatch His nighted life: Moreouer to descry The strength o'th' Enemy

Stew. I must needs after him, Madam, with my Letter

Reg. Our troopes set forth to morrow, stay with vs: The wayes are dangerous

Stew. I may not Madam: My Lady charg'd my dutie in this busines

Reg. Why should she write to Edmund? Might not you transport her purposes by word? Belike, Some things, I know not what. Ile loue thee much Let me vnseale the Letter

Stew. Madam, I had rather- Reg. I know your Lady do's not loue her Husband, I am sure of that: and at her late being heere, She gaue strange Eliads, and most speaking lookes To Noble Edmund. I know you are of her bosome

Stew. I, Madam? Reg. I speake in vnderstanding: Y'are: I know't, Therefore I do aduise you take this note: My Lord is dead: Edmond, and I haue talk'd, And more conuenient is he for my hand Then for your Ladies: You may gather more: If you do finde him, pray you giue him this; And when your Mistris heares thus much from you, I pray desire her call her wisedome to her. So fare you well: If you do chance to heare of that blinde Traitor, Preferment fals on him, that cuts him off

Stew. Would I could meet Madam, I should shew What party I do follow

Reg. Fare thee well.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Gloucester, and Edgar.

Glou. When shall I come to th' top of that same hill? Edg. You do climbe vp it now. Look how we labor

Glou. Me thinkes the ground is eeuen

Edg. Horrible steepe. Hearke, do you heare the Sea? Glou. No truly

Edg. Why then your other Senses grow imperfect By your eyes anguish

Glou. So may it be indeed. Me thinkes thy voyce is alter'd, and thou speak'st In better phrase, and matter then thou did'st

Edg. Y'are much deceiu'd: In nothing am I chang'd But in my Garments

Glou. Me thinkes y'are better spoken

Edg. Come on Sir, Heere's the place: stand still: how fearefull And dizie 'tis, to cast ones eyes so low, The Crowes and Choughes, that wing the midway ayre Shew scarse so grosse as Beetles. Halfe way downe Hangs one that gathers Sampire: dreadfull Trade: Me thinkes he seemes no bigger then his head. The Fishermen, that walk'd vpon the beach Appeare like Mice: and yond tall Anchoring Barke, Diminish'd to her Cocke: her Cocke, a Buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring Surge, That on th' vnnumbred idle Pebble chafes Cannot be heard so high. Ile looke no more, Least my braine turne, and the deficient sight Topple downe headlong

Glou. Set me where you stand

Edg. Giue me your hand: You are now within a foote of th' extreme Verge: For all beneath the Moone would I not leape vpright

Glou. Let go my hand: Heere Friend's another purse: in it, a Iewell Well worth a poore mans taking. Fayries, and Gods Prosper it with thee. Go thou further off, Bid me farewell, and let me heare thee going

Edg. Now fare ye well, good Sir

Glou. With all my heart

Edg. Why I do trifle thus with his dispaire, Is done to cure it

Glou. O you mighty Gods! This world I do renounce, and in your sights Shake patiently my great affliction off: If I could beare it longer, and not fall To quarrell with your great opposelesse willes, My snuffe, and loathed part of Nature should Burne it selfe out. If Edgar liue, O blesse him: Now Fellow, fare thee well

Edg. Gone Sir, farewell: And yet I know not how conceit may rob The Treasury of life, when life it selfe Yeelds to the Theft. Had he bin where he thought, By this had thought bin past. Aliue, or dead? Hoa, you Sir: Friend, heare you Sir, speake: Thus might he passe indeed: yet he reuiues. What are you Sir? Glou. Away, and let me dye

Edg. Had'st thou beene ought But Gozemore, Feathers, Ayre, (So many fathome downe precipitating) Thou'dst shiuer'd like an Egge: but thou do'st breath: Hast heauy substance, bleed'st not, speak'st, art sound, Ten Masts at each, make not the altitude Which thou hast perpendicularly fell, Thy life's a Myracle. Speake yet againe

Glou. But haue I falne, or no? Edg. From the dread Somnet of this Chalkie Bourne Looke vp a height, the shrill-gorg'd Larke so farre Cannot be seene, or heard: Do but looke vp

Glou. Alacke, I haue no eyes: Is wretchednesse depriu'd that benefit To end it selfe by death? 'Twas yet some comfort, When misery could beguile the Tyrants rage, And frustrate his proud will

Edg. Giue me your arme. Vp, so: How is't? Feele you your Legges? You stand

Glou. Too well, too well

Edg. This is aboue all strangenesse, Vpon the crowne o'th' Cliffe. What thing was that Which parted from you? Glou. A poore vnfortunate Beggar

Edg. As I stood heere below, me thought his eyes Were two full Moones: he had a thousand Noses, Hornes wealk'd, and waued like the enraged Sea: It was some Fiend: Therefore thou happy Father, Thinke that the cleerest Gods, who make them Honors Of mens Impossibilities, haue preserued thee

Glou. I do remember now: henceforth Ile beare Affliction, till it do cry out it selfe Enough, enough, and dye. That thing you speake of, I tooke it for a man: often 'twould say The Fiend, the Fiend, he led me to that place

Edgar. Beare free and patient thoughts. Enter Lear.

But who comes heere? The safer sense will ne're accommodate His Master thus

Lear. No, they cannot touch me for crying. I am the King himselfe

Edg. O thou side-piercing sight! Lear. Nature's aboue Art, in that respect. Ther's your Presse-money. That fellow handles his bow, like a Crowkeeper: draw mee a Cloathiers yard. Looke, looke, a Mouse: peace, peace, this peece of toasted Cheese will doo't. There's my Gauntlet, Ile proue it on a Gyant. Bring vp the browne Billes. O well flowne Bird: i'th' clout, i'th' clout: Hewgh. Giue the word

Edg. Sweet Mariorum

Lear. Passe

Glou. I know that voice

Lear. Ha! Gonerill with a white beard? They flatter'd me like a Dogge, and told mee I had the white hayres in my Beard, ere the blacke ones were there. To say I, and no, to euery thing that I said: I, and no too, was no good Diuinity. When the raine came to wet me once, and the winde to make me chatter: when the Thunder would not peace at my bidding, there I found 'em, there I smelt 'em out. Go too, they are not men o'their words; they told me, I was euery thing: 'Tis a Lye, I am not Agu-proofe

Glou. The tricke of that voyce, I do well remember: Is't not the King? Lear. I, euery inch a King. When I do stare, see how the Subiect quakes. I pardon that mans life. What was thy cause? Adultery? thou shalt not dye: dye for Adultery? No, the Wren goes too't, and the small gilded Fly Do's letcher in my sight. Let Copulation thriue: For Glousters bastard Son was kinder to his Father, Then my Daughters got 'tweene the lawfull sheets. Too't Luxury pell-mell, for I lacke Souldiers. Behold yond simpring Dame, whose face betweene her Forkes presages Snow; that minces Vertue, & do's shake the head to heare of pleasures name. The Fitchew, nor the soyled Horse goes too't with a more riotous appetite: Downe from the waste they are Centaures, though Women all aboue: but to the Girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the Fiends. There's hell, there's darkenes, there is the sulphurous pit; burning, scalding, stench, consumption: Fye, fie, fie; pah, pah: Giue me an Ounce of Ciuet; good Apothecary sweeten my immagination: There's money for thee

Glou. O let me kisse that hand

Lear. Let me wipe it first, It smelles of Mortality

Glou. O ruin'd peece of Nature, this great world Shall so weare out to naught. Do'st thou know me? Lear. I remember thine eyes well enough: dost thou squiny at me? No, doe thy worst blinde Cupid, Ile not loue. Reade thou this challenge, marke but the penning of it

Glou. Were all thy Letters Sunnes, I could not see

Edg. I would not take this from report, It is, and my heart breakes at it

Lear. Read

Glou. What with the Case of eyes? Lear. Oh ho, are you there with me? No eies in your head, nor no mony in your purse? Your eyes are in a heauy case, your purse in a light, yet you see how this world goes

Glou. I see it feelingly

Lear. What, art mad? A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Looke with thine eares: See how yond Iustice railes vpon yond simple theefe. Hearke in thine eare: Change places, and handy-dandy, which is the Iustice, which is the theefe: Thou hast seene a Farmers dogge barke at a Beggar? Glou. I Sir

Lear. And the Creature run from the Cur: there thou might'st behold the great image of Authoritie, a Dogg's obey'd in Office. Thou, Rascall Beadle, hold thy bloody hand: why dost thou lash that Whore? Strip thy owne backe, thou hotly lusts to vse her in that kind, for which thou whip'st her. The Vsurer hangs the Cozener. Thorough tatter'd cloathes great Vices do appeare: Robes, and Furr'd gownes hide all. Place sinnes with Gold, and the strong Lance of Iustice, hurtlesse breakes: Arme it in ragges, a Pigmies straw do's pierce it. None do's offend, none, I say none, Ile able 'em; take that of me my Friend, who haue the power to seale th' accusers lips. Get thee glasse-eyes, and like a scuruy Politician, seeme to see the things thou dost not. Now, now, now, now. Pull off my Bootes: harder, harder, so

Edg. O matter, and impertinency mixt, Reason in Madnesse

Lear. If thou wilt weepe my Fortunes, take my eyes. I know thee well enough, thy name is Glouster: Thou must be patient; we came crying hither: Thou know'st, the first time that we smell the Ayre We wawle, and cry. I will preach to thee: Marke

Glou. Alacke, alacke the day

Lear. When we are borne, we cry that we are come To this great stage of Fooles. This a good blocke: It were a delicate stratagem to shoo A Troope of Horse with Felt: Ile put't in proofe, And when I haue stolne vpon these Son in Lawes, Then kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill. Enter a Gentleman.

Gent. Oh heere he is: lay hand vpon him, Sir. Your most deere Daughter- Lear. No rescue? What, a Prisoner? I am euen The Naturall Foole of Fortune. Vse me well, You shall haue ransome. Let me haue Surgeons, I am cut to'th' Braines

Gent. You shall haue any thing

Lear. No Seconds? All my selfe? Why, this would make a man, a man of Salt To vse his eyes for Garden water-pots. I wil die brauely, Like a smugge Bridegroome. What? I will be Iouiall: Come, come, I am a King, Masters, know you that? Gent. You are a Royall one, and we obey you

Lear. Then there's life in't. Come, and you get it, You shall get it by running: Sa, sa, sa, sa. Enter.

Gent. A sight most pittifull in the meanest wretch, Past speaking of in a King. Thou hast a Daughter Who redeemes Nature from the generall curse Which twaine haue brought her to

Edg. Haile gentle Sir

Gent. Sir, speed you: what's your will? Edg. Do you heare ought (Sir) of a Battell toward

Gent. Most sure, and vulgar: Euery one heares that, which can distinguish sound

Edg. But by your fauour: How neere's the other Army? Gent. Neere, and on speedy foot: the maine descry Stands on the hourely thought

Edg. I thanke you Sir, that's all

Gent. Though that the Queen on special cause is here Her Army is mou'd on. Enter.

Edg. I thanke you Sir

Glou. You euer gentle Gods, take my breath from me, Let not my worser Spirit tempt me againe To dye before you please

Edg. Well pray you Father

Glou. Now good sir, what are you? Edg. A most poore man, made tame to Fortunes blows Who, by the Art of knowne, and feeling sorrowes, Am pregnant to good pitty. Giue me your hand, Ile leade you to some biding

Glou. Heartie thankes: The bountie, and the benizon of Heauen To boot, and boot. Enter Steward.

Stew. A proclaim'd prize: most happie That eyelesse head of thine, was first fram'd flesh To raise my fortunes. Thou old, vnhappy Traitor, Breefely thy selfe remember: the Sword is out That must destroy thee

Glou. Now let thy friendly hand Put strength enough too't

Stew. Wherefore, bold Pezant, Dar'st thou support a publish'd Traitor? Hence, Least that th' infection of his fortune take Like hold on thee. Let go his arme

Edg. Chill not let go Zir, Without vurther 'casion

Stew. Let go Slaue, or thou dy'st

Edg. Good Gentleman goe your gate, and let poore volke passe: and 'chud ha' bin zwaggerd out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis, by a vortnight. Nay, come not neere th' old man: keepe out che vor' ye, or Ile try whither your Costard, or my Ballow be the harder; chill be plaine with you

Stew. Out Dunghill

Edg. Chill picke your teeth Zir: come, no matter vor your foynes

Stew. Slaue thou hast slaine me: Villain, take my purse; If euer thou wilt thriue, bury my bodie, And giue the Letters which thou find'st about me, To Edmund Earle of Glouster: seeke him out Vpon the English party. Oh vntimely death, death

Edg. I know thee well. A seruiceable Villaine, As duteous to the vices of thy Mistris, As badnesse would desire

Glou. What, is he dead? Edg. Sit you downe Father: rest you. Let's see these Pockets; the Letters that he speakes of May be my Friends: hee's dead; I am onely sorry He had no other Deathsman. Let vs see: Leaue gentle waxe, and manners: blame vs not To know our enemies mindes, we rip their hearts, Their Papers is more lawfull.

Reads the Letter.

Let our reciprocall vowes be remembred. You haue manie opportunities to cut him off: if your will want not, time and place will be fruitfully offer'd. There is nothing done. If hee returne the Conqueror, then am I the Prisoner, and his bed, my Gaole, from the loathed warmth whereof, deliuer me, and supply the place for your Labour. Your (Wife, so I would say) affectionate Seruant. Gonerill. Oh indistinguish'd space of Womans will, A plot vpon her vertuous Husbands life, And the exchange my Brother: heere, in the sands Thee Ile rake vp, the poste vnsanctified Of murtherous Letchers: and in the mature time, With this vngracious paper strike the sight Of the death-practis'd Duke: for him 'tis well, That of thy death, and businesse, I can tell

Glou. The King is mad: How stiffe is my vilde sense That I stand vp, and haue ingenious feeling Of my huge Sorrowes? Better I were distract, So should my thoughts be seuer'd from my greefes,

Drum afarre off.

And woes, by wrong imaginations loose The knowledge of themselues

Edg. Giue me your hand: Farre off methinkes I heare the beaten Drumme. Come Father, Ile bestow you with a Friend.

Exeunt.

Scaena Septima.

Enter Cordelia, Kent, and Gentleman.

Cor. O thou good Kent, How shall I liue and worke To match thy goodnesse? My life will be too short, And euery measure faile me

Kent. To be acknowledg'd Madam is ore-pai'd, All my reports go with the modest truth, Nor more, nor clipt, but so

Cor. Be better suited, These weedes are memories of those worser houres: I prythee put them off

Kent. Pardon deere Madam, Yet to be knowne shortens my made intent, My boone I make it, that you know me not, Till time, and I, thinke meet

Cor. Then be't so my good Lord: How do's the King? Gent. Madam sleepes still

Cor. O you kind Gods! Cure this great breach in his abused Nature, Th' vntun'd and iarring senses, O winde vp, Of this childe-changed Father

Gent. So please your Maiesty, That we may wake the King, he hath slept long? Cor. Be gouern'd by your knowledge, and proceede I'th' sway of your owne will: is he array'd? Enter Lear in a chaire carried by Seruants] Gent. I Madam: in the heauinesse of sleepe, We put fresh garments on him. Be by good Madam when we do awake him, I doubt of his Temperance

Cor. O my deere Father, restauratian hang Thy medicine on my lippes, and let this kisse Repaire those violent harmes, that my two Sisters Haue in thy Reuerence made

Kent. Kind and deere Princesse

Cor. Had you not bin their Father, these white flakes Did challenge pitty of them. Was this a face To be oppos'd against the iarring windes? Mine Enemies dogge, though he had bit me, Should haue stood that night against my fire, And was't thou faine (poore Father) To houell thee with Swine and Rogues forlorne, In short, and musty straw? Alacke, alacke, 'Tis wonder that thy life and wits, at once Had not concluded all. He wakes, speake to him

Gen. Madam do you, 'tis fittest

Cor. How does my Royall Lord? How fares your Maiesty? Lear. You do me wrong to take me out o'th' graue, Thou art a Soule in blisse, but I am bound Vpon a wheele of fire, that mine owne teares Do scal'd, like molten Lead

Cor. Sir, do you know me? Lear. You are a spirit I know, where did you dye? Cor. Still, still, farre wide

Gen. He's scarse awake, Let him alone a while

Lear. Where haue I bin? Where am I? Faire day light? I am mightily abus'd; I should eu'n dye with pitty To see another thus. I know not what to say: I will not sweare these are my hands: let's see, I feele this pin pricke, would I were assur'd Of my condition

Cor. O looke vpon me Sir, And hold your hand in benediction o're me, You must not kneele

Lear. Pray do not mocke me: I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourescore and vpward, Not an houre more, nor lesse: And to deale plainely, I feare I am not in my perfect mind. Me thinkes I should know you, and know this man, Yet I am doubtfull: For I am mainely ignorant What place this is: and all the skill I haue Remembers not these garments: nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me, For (as I am a man) I thinke this Lady To be my childe Cordelia

Cor. And so I am: I am

Lear. Be your teares wet? Yes faith: I pray weepe not, If you haue poyson for me, I will drinke it: I know you do not loue me, for your Sisters Haue (as I do remember) done me wrong. You haue some cause, they haue not

Cor. No cause, no cause

Lear. Am I in France? Kent. In your owne kingdome Sir

Lear. Do not abuse me

Gent. Be comforted good Madam, the great rage You see is kill'd in him: desire him to go in, Trouble him no more till further setling

Cor. Wilt please your Highnesse walke? Lear. You must beare with me: Pray you now forget, and forgiue, I am old and foolish.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter with Drumme and Colours, Edmund, Regan. Gentlemen, and Souldiers.

Bast. Know of the Duke if his last purpose hold, Or whether since he is aduis'd by ought To change the course, he's full of alteration, And selfereprouing, bring his constant pleasure

Reg. Our Sisters man is certainely miscarried

Bast. 'Tis to be doubted Madam

Reg. Now sweet Lord, You know the goodnesse I intend vpon you: Tell me but truly, but then speake the truth, Do you not loue my Sister? Bast. In honour'd Loue

Reg. But haue you neuer found my Brothers way, To the fore-fended place? Bast. No by mine honour, Madam

Reg. I neuer shall endure her, deere my Lord Be not familiar with her

Bast. Feare not, she and the Duke her husband. Enter with Drum and Colours, Albany, Gonerill, Soldiers.

Alb. Our very louing Sister, well be-met: Sir, this I heard, the King is come to his Daughter With others, whom the rigour of our State Forc'd to cry out

Regan. Why is this reasond? Gone. Combine together 'gainst the Enemie: For these domesticke and particular broiles, Are not the question heere

Alb. Let's then determine with th' ancient of warre On our proceeding

Reg. Sister you'le go with vs? Gon. No

Reg. 'Tis most conuenient, pray go with vs

Gon. Oh ho, I know the Riddle, I will goe.

Exeunt. both the Armies.

Enter Edgar.

Edg. If ere your Grace had speech with man so poore, Heare me one word

Alb. Ile ouertake you, speake

Edg. Before you fight the Battaile, ope this Letter: If you haue victory, let the Trumpet sound For him that brought it: wretched though I seeme, I can produce a Champion, that will proue What is auouched there. If you miscarry, Your businesse of the world hath so an end, And machination ceases. Fortune loues you

Alb. Stay till I haue read the Letter

Edg. I was forbid it: When time shall serue, let but the Herald cry, And Ile appeare againe. Enter.

Alb. Why farethee well, I will o're-looke thy paper. Enter Edmund.

Bast. The Enemy's in view, draw vp your powers, Heere is the guesse of their true strength and Forces, By dilligent discouerie, but your hast Is now vrg'd on you

Alb. We will greet the time. Enter.

Bast. To both these Sisters haue I sworne my loue: Each iealous of the other, as the stung Are of the Adder. Which of them shall I take? Both? One? Or neither? Neither can be enioy'd If both remaine aliue: To take the Widdow, Exasperates, makes mad her Sister Gonerill, And hardly shall I carry out my side, Her husband being aliue. Now then, wee'l vse His countenance for the Battaile, which being done, Let her who would be rid of him, deuise His speedy taking off. As for the mercie Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia, The Battaile done, and they within our power, Shall neuer see his pardon: for my state, Stands on me to defend, not to debate. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Alarum within. Enter with Drumme and Colours, Lear, Cordelia, and Souldiers, ouer the Stage, and Exeunt. Enter Edgar, and Gloster.

Edg. Heere Father, take the shadow of this Tree For your good hoast: pray that the right may thriue: If euer I returne to you againe, Ile bring you comfort

Glo. Grace go with you Sir. Enter.

Alarum and Retreat within. Enter Edgar.

Edgar. Away old man, giue me thy hand, away: King Lear hath lost, he and his Daughter tane, Giue me thy hand: Come on

Glo. No further Sir, a man may rot euen heere

Edg. What in ill thoughts againe? Men must endure Their going hence, euen as their comming hither, Ripenesse is all come on

Glo. And that's true too.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter in conquest with Drum and Colours, Edmund, Lear, and Cordelia, as prisoners, Souldiers, Captaine.

Bast. Some Officers take them away: good guard, Vntill their greater pleasures first be knowne That are to censure them

Cor. We are not the first, Who with best meaning haue incurr'd the worst: For thee oppressed King I am cast downe, My selfe could else out-frowne false Fortunes frowne. Shall we not see these Daughters, and these Sisters? Lear. No, no, no, no: come let's away to prison, We two alone will sing like Birds i'th' Cage: When thou dost aske me blessing, Ile kneele downe And aske of thee forgiuenesse: So wee'l liue, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded Butterflies: and heere (poore Rogues) Talke of Court newes, and wee'l talke with them too, Who looses, and who wins; who's in, who's out; And take vpon's the mystery of things, As if we were Gods spies: And wee'l weare out In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones, That ebbe and flow by th' Moone

Bast. Take them away

Lear. Vpon such sacrifices my Cordelia, The Gods themselues throw Incense. Haue I caught thee? He that parts vs, shall bring a Brand from Heauen, And fire vs hence, like Foxes: wipe thine eyes, The good yeares shall deuoure them, flesh and fell, Ere they shall make vs weepe? Weele see 'em staru'd first: come. Enter.

Bast. Come hither Captaine, hearke. Take thou this note, go follow them to prison, One step I haue aduanc'd thee, if thou do'st As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way To Noble Fortunes: know thou this, that men Are as the time is; to be tender minded Do's not become a Sword, thy great imployment Will not beare question: either say thou'lt do't, Or thriue by other meanes

Capt. Ile do't my Lord

Bast. About it, and write happy, when th'hast done, Marke I say instantly, and carry it so As I haue set it downe.

Exit Captaine.

Flourish. Enter Albany, Gonerill, Regan, Soldiers.

Alb. Sir, you haue shew'd to day your valiant straine And Fortune led you well: you haue the Captiues Who were the opposites of this dayes strife: I do require them of you so to vse them, As we shall find their merites, and our safety May equally determine

Bast. Sir, I thought it fit, To send the old and miserable King to some retention, Whose age had Charmes in it, whose Title more, To plucke the common bosome on his side, And turne our imprest Launces in our eies Which do command them. With him I sent the Queen: My reason all the same, and they are ready To morrow, or at further space, t' appeare Where you shall hold your Session

Alb. Sir, by your patience, I hold you but a subiect of this Warre, Not as a Brother

Reg. That's as we list to grace him. Methinkes our pleasure might haue bin demanded Ere you had spoke so farre. He led our Powers, Bore the Commission of my place and person, The which immediacie may well stand vp, And call it selfe your Brother

Gon. Not so hot: In his owne grace he doth exalt himselfe, More then in your addition

Reg. In my rights, By me inuested, he compeeres the best

Alb. That were the most, if he should husband you

Reg. Iesters do oft proue Prophets

Gon. Hola, hola, That eye that told you so, look'd but a squint

Rega. Lady I am not well, else I should answere From a full flowing stomack. Generall, Take thou my Souldiers, prisoners, patrimony, Dispose of them, of me, the walls is thine: Witnesse the world, that I create thee heere My Lord, and Master

Gon. Meane you to enioy him? Alb. The let alone lies not in your good will

Bast. Nor in thine Lord

Alb. Halfe-blooded fellow, yes

Reg. Let the Drum strike, and proue my title thine

Alb. Stay yet, heare reason: Edmund, I arrest thee On capitall Treason; and in thy arrest, This guilded Serpent: for your claime faire Sisters, I bare it in the interest of my wife, 'Tis she is sub-contracted to this Lord, And I her husband contradict your Banes. If you will marry, make your loues to me, My Lady is bespoke

Gon. An enterlude

Alb. Thou art armed Gloster, Let the Trumpet sound: If none appeare to proue vpon thy person, Thy heynous, manifest, and many Treasons, There is my pledge: Ile make it on thy heart Ere I taste bread, thou art in nothing lesse Then I haue heere proclaim'd thee

Reg. Sicke, O sicke

Gon. If not, Ile nere trust medicine

Bast. There's my exchange, what in the world hes That names me Traitor, villain-like he lies, Call by the Trumpet: he that dares approach; On him, on you, who not, I will maintaine My truth and honor firmely. Enter a Herald.

Alb. A Herald, ho. Trust to thy single vertue, for thy Souldiers All leuied in my name, haue in my name Tooke their discharge

Regan. My sicknesse growes vpon me

Alb. She is not well, conuey her to my Tent. Come hither Herald, let the Trumpet sound, And read out this.

A Trumpet sounds.

Herald reads.

If any man of qualitie or degree, within the lists of the Army, will maintaine vpon Edmund, supposed Earle of Gloster, that he is a manifold Traitor, let him appeare by the third sound of the Trumpet: he is bold in his defence.

1 Trumpet.

Her. Againe.

2 Trumpet.

Her. Againe.

3 Trumpet.

Trumpet answers within.

Enter Edgar armed.

Alb. Aske him his purposes, why he appeares Vpon this Call o'th' Trumpet

Her. What are you? Your name, your quality, and why you answer This present Summons? Edg. Know my name is lost By Treasons tooth: bare-gnawne, and Canker-bit, Yet am I Noble as the Aduersary I come to cope

Alb. Which is that Aduersary? Edg. What's he that speakes for Edmund Earle of Gloster? Bast. Himselfe, what saist thou to him? Edg. Draw thy Sword, That if my speech offend a Noble heart, Thy arme may do thee Iustice, heere is mine: Behold it is my priuiledge, The priuiledge of mine Honours, My oath, and my profession. I protest, Maugre thy strength, place, youth, and eminence, Despise thy victor-Sword, and fire new Fortune, Thy valor, and thy heart, thou art a Traitor: False to thy Gods, thy Brother, and thy Father, Conspirant 'gainst this high illustrious Prince, And from th' extremest vpward of thy head, To the discent and dust below thy foote, A most Toad-spotted Traitor. Say thou no, This Sword, this arme, and my best spirits are bent To proue vpon thy heart, where to I speake, Thou lyest

Bast. In wisedome I should aske thy name, But since thy out-side lookes so faire and Warlike, And that thy tongue (some say) of breeding breathes, What safe, and nicely I might well delay, By rule of Knight-hood, I disdaine and spurne: Backe do I tosse these Treasons to thy head, With the hell-hated Lye, ore-whelme thy heart, Which for they yet glance by, and scarcely bruise, This Sword of mine shall giue them instant way, Where they shall rest for euer. Trumpets speake

Alb. Saue him, saue him.

Alarums. Fights.

Gon. This is practise Gloster, By th' law of Warre, thou wast not bound to answer An vnknowne opposite: thou art not vanquish'd, But cozend, and beguild

Alb. Shut your mouth Dame, Or with this paper shall I stop it: hold Sir, Thou worse then any name, reade thine owne euill: No tearing Lady, I perceiue you know it

Gon. Say if I do, the Lawes are mine not thine, Who can araigne me for't? Enter.

Alb. Most monstrous! O, know'st thou this paper? Bast. Aske me not what I know

Alb. Go after her, she's desperate, gouerne her

Bast. What you haue charg'd me with, That haue I done, And more, much more, the time will bring it out. 'Tis past, and so am I: But what art thou That hast this Fortune on me? If thou'rt Noble, I do forgiue thee

Edg. Let's exchange charity: I am no lesse in blood then thou art Edmond, If more, the more th'hast wrong'd me. My name is Edgar and thy Fathers Sonne, The Gods are iust, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague vs: The darke and vitious place where thee he got, Cost him his eyes

Bast. Th'hast spoken right, 'tis true, The Wheele is come full circle, I am heere

Alb. Me thought thy very gate did prophesie A Royall Noblenesse: I must embrace thee, Let sorrow split my heart, if euer I Did hate thee, or thy Father

Edg. Worthy Prince I know't

Alb. Where haue you hid your selfe? How haue you knowne the miseries of your Father? Edg. By nursing them my Lord. List a breefe tale, And when 'tis told, O that my heart would burst. The bloody proclamation to escape That follow'd me so neere, (O our liues sweetnesse, That we the paine of death would hourely dye, Rather then die at once) taught me to shift Into a mad-mans rags, t' assume a semblance That very Dogges disdain'd: and in this habit Met I my Father with his bleeding Rings, Their precious Stones new lost: became his guide, Led him, begg'd for him, sau'd him from dispaire. Neuer (O fault) reueal'd my selfe vnto him, Vntill some halfe houre past when I was arm'd, Not sure, though hoping of this good successe, I ask'd his blessing, and from first to last Told him our pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart (Alacke too weake the conflict to support) Twixt two extremes of passion, ioy and greefe, Burst smilingly

Bast. This speech of yours hath mou'd me, And shall perchance do good, but speake you on, You looke as you had something more to say

Alb. If there be more, more wofull, hold it in, For I am almost ready to dissolue, Hearing of this. Enter a Gentleman.

Gen. Helpe, helpe: O helpe

Edg. What kinde of helpe? Alb. Speake man

Edg. What meanes this bloody Knife? Gen. 'Tis hot, it smoakes, it came euen from the heart of- O she's dead

Alb. Who dead? Speake man

Gen. Your Lady Sir, your Lady; and her Sister By her is poyson'd: she confesses it

Bast. I was contracted to them both, all three Now marry in an instant

Edg. Here comes Kent. Enter Kent.

Alb. Produce the bodies, be they aliue or dead;

Gonerill and Regans bodies brought out.

This iudgement of the Heauens that makes vs tremble. Touches vs not with pitty: O, is this he? The time will not allow the complement Which very manners vrges

Kent. I am come To bid my King and Master aye good night. Is he not here? Alb. Great thing of vs forgot, Speake Edmund, where's the King? and where's Cordelia? Seest thou this obiect Kent? Kent. Alacke, why thus? Bast. Yet Edmund was belou'd: The one the other poison'd for my sake, And after slew herselfe

Alb. Euen so: couer their faces

Bast. I pant for life: some good I meane to do Despight of mine owne Nature. Quickly send, (Be briefe in it) to'th' Castle, for my Writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia: Nay, send in time

Alb. Run, run, O run

Edg. To who my Lord? Who ha's the Office? Send thy token of repreeue

Bast. Well thought on, take my Sword, Giue it the Captaine

Edg. Hast thee for thy life

Bast. He hath Commission from thy Wife and me, To hang Cordelia in the prison, and To lay the blame vpon her owne dispaire, That she for-did her selfe

Alb. The Gods defend her, beare him hence awhile. Enter Lear with Cordelia in his armes.

Lear. Howle, howle, howle: O you are men of stones, Had I your tongues and eyes, Il'd vse them so, That Heauens vault should crack: she's gone for euer. I know when one is dead, and when one liues, She's dead as earth: Lend me a Looking-glasse, If that her breath will mist or staine the stone, Why then she liues

Kent. Is this the promis'd end? Edg. Or image of that horror

Alb. Fall and cease

Lear. This feather stirs, she liues: if it be so, It is a chance which do's redeeme all sorrowes That euer I haue felt

Kent. O my good Master

Lear. Prythee away

Edg. 'Tis Noble Kent your Friend

Lear. A plague vpon you Murderors, Traitors all, I might haue sau'd her, now she's gone for euer: Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha: What is't thou saist? Her voice was euer soft, Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman. I kill'd the Slaue that was a hanging thee

Gent. 'Tis true (my Lords) he did

Lear. Did I not fellow? I haue seene the day, with my good biting Faulchion I would haue made him skip: I am old now, And these same crosses spoile me. Who are you? Mine eyes are not o'th' best, Ile tell you straight

Kent. If Fortune brag of two, she lou'd and hated, One of them we behold

Lear. This is a dull sight, are you not Kent? Kent. The same: your Seruant Kent, Where is your Seruant Caius? Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that, He'le strike and quickly too, he's dead and rotten

Kent. No my good Lord, I am the very man

Lear. Ile see that straight

Kent. That from your first of difference and decay, Haue follow'd your sad steps

Lear. You are welcome hither

Kent. Nor no man else: All's cheerlesse, darke, and deadly, Your eldest Daughters haue fore-done themselues, And desperately are dead Lear. I so I thinke

Alb. He knowes not what he saies, and vaine is it That we present vs to him. Enter a Messenger.

Edg. Very bootlesse

Mess. Edmund is dead my Lord

Alb. That's but a trifle heere: You Lords and Noble Friends, know our intent, What comfort to this great decay may come, Shall be appli'd. For vs we will resigne, During the life of this old Maiesty To him our absolute power, you to your rights, With boote, and such addition as your Honours Haue more then merited. All Friends shall Taste the wages of their vertue, and all Foes The cup of their deseruings: O see, see

Lear. And my poore Foole is hang'd: no, no, no life? Why should a Dog, a Horse, a Rat haue life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer. Pray you vndo this Button. Thanke you Sir, Do you see this? Looke on her? Looke her lips, Looke there, looke there.

He dies.

Edg. He faints, my Lord, my Lord

Kent. Breake heart, I prythee breake

Edg. Looke vp my Lord

Kent. Vex not his ghost, O let him passe, he hates him, That would vpon the wracke of this tough world Stretch him out longer

Edg. He is gon indeed

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long, He but vsurpt his life

Alb. Beare them from hence, our present businesse Is generall woe: Friends of my soule, you twaine, Rule in this Realme, and the gor'd state sustaine

Kent. I haue a iourney Sir, shortly to go, My Master calls me, I must not say no

Edg. The waight of this sad time we must obey, Speake what we feele, not what we ought to say: The oldest hath borne most, we that are yong, Shall neuer see so much, nor liue so long.

Exeunt. with a dead March.

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF KING LEAR.

The Tragedie of Othello, the Moore of Venice

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Rodorigo, and Iago.

Rodorigo. Neuer tell me, I take it much vnkindly That thou (Iago) who hast had my purse, As if y strings were thine, should'st know of this

Ia. But you'l not heare me. If euer I did dream Of such a matter, abhorre me

Rodo. Thou told'st me, Thou did'st hold him in thy hate

Iago. Despise me If I do not. Three Great-ones of the Cittie, (In personall suite to make me his Lieutenant) Off-capt to him: and by the faith of man I know my price, I am worth no worsse a place. But he (as louing his owne pride, and purposes) Euades them, with a bumbast Circumstance, Horribly stufft with Epithites of warre, Non-suites my Mediators. For certes, saies he, I haue already chose my Officer. And what was he? For-sooth, a great Arithmatician, One Michaell Cassio, a Florentine, (A Fellow almost damn'd in a faire Wife) That neuer set a Squadron in the Field, Nor the deuision of a Battaile knowes More then a Spinster. Vnlesse the Bookish Theoricke: Wherein the Tongued Consuls can propose As Masterly as he. Meere pratle (without practise) Is all his Souldiership. But he (Sir) had th' election; And I (of whom his eies had seene the proofe At Rhodes, at Ciprus, and on others grounds Christen'd, and Heathen) must be be-leed, and calm'd By Debitor, and Creditor. This Counter-caster, He (in good time) must his Lieutenant be, And I (blesse the marke) his Mooreships Auntient

Rod. By heauen, I rather would haue bin his hangman

Iago. Why, there's no remedie. 'Tis the cursse of Seruice; Preferment goes by Letter, and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood Heire to'th' first. Now Sir, be iudge your selfe, Whether I in any iust terme am Affin'd To loue the Moore? Rod. I would not follow him then

Iago. O Sir content you. I follow him, to serue my turne vpon him. We cannot all be Masters, nor all Masters Cannot be truely follow'd. You shall marke Many a dutious and knee-crooking knaue; That (doting on his owne obsequious bondage) Weares out his time, much like his Masters Asse, For naught but Prouender, & when he's old Casheer'd. Whip me such honest knaues. Others there are Who trym'd in Formes, and visages of Dutie, Keepe yet their hearts attending on themselues, And throwing but showes of Seruice on their Lords Doe well thriue by them. And when they haue lin'd their Coates Doe themselues Homage. These Fellowes haue some soule, And such a one do I professe my selfe. For (Sir) It is as sure as you are Rodorigo, Were I the Moore, I would not be Iago: In following him, I follow but my selfe. Heauen is my Iudge, not I for loue and dutie, But seeming so, for my peculiar end: For when my outward Action doth demonstrate The natiue act, and figure of my heart In Complement externe, 'tis not long after But I will weare my heart vpon my sleeue For Dawes to pecke at; I am not what I am

Rod. What a fall Fortune do's the Thicks-lips owe If he can carry't thus? Iago. Call vp her Father: Rowse him, make after him, poyson his delight, Proclaime him in the Streets. Incense her kinsmen, And though he in a fertile Clymate dwell, Plague him with Flies: though that his Ioy be Ioy, Yet throw such chances of vexation on't, As it may loose some colour

Rodo. Heere is her Fathers house, Ile call aloud

Iago. Doe, with like timerous accent, and dire yell, As when (by Night and Negligence) the Fire Is spied in populus Citties

Rodo. What hoa: Brabantio, Signior Brabantio, hoa

Iago. Awake: what hoa, Brabantio: Theeues, Theeues. Looke to your house, your daughter, and your Bags, Theeues, Theeues

Bra. Aboue. What is the reason of this terrible Summons? What is the matter there? Rodo. Signior is all your Familie within? Iago. Are your Doores lock'd? Bra. Why? Wherefore ask you this? Iago. Sir, y'are rob'd, for shame put on your Gowne, Your heart is burst, you haue lost halfe your soule Euen now, now, very now, an old blacke Ram Is tupping your white Ewe. Arise, arise, Awake the snorting Cittizens with the Bell, Or else the deuill will make a Grand-sire of you. Arise I say

Bra. What, haue you lost your wits? Rod. Most reuerend Signior, do you know my voice? Bra. Not I: what are you? Rod. My name is Rodorigo

Bra. The worsser welcome: I haue charg'd thee not to haunt about my doores: In honest plainenesse thou hast heard me say, My Daughter is not for thee. And now in madnesse (Being full of Supper, and distempring draughtes) Vpon malitious knauerie, dost thou come To start my quiet

Rod. Sir, Sir, Sir

Bra. But thou must needs be sure, My spirits and my place haue in their power To make this bitter to thee

Rodo. Patience good Sir

Bra. What tell'st thou me of Robbing? This is Venice: my house is not a Grange

Rodo. Most graue Brabantio, In simple and pure soule, I come to you

Ia. Sir: you are one of those that will not serue God, if the deuill bid you. Because we come to do you seruice, and you thinke we are Ruffians, you'le haue your Daughter couer'd with a Barbary horse, you'le haue your Nephewes neigh to you, you'le haue Coursers for Cozens: and Gennets for Germaines

Bra. What prophane wretch art thou? Ia. I am one Sir, that comes to tell you, your Daughter and the Moore, are making the Beast with two backs

Bra. Thou art a Villaine

Iago. You are a Senator

Bra. This thou shalt answere. I know thee Rodorigo

Rod. Sir, I will answere any thing. But I beseech you If't be your pleasure, and most wise consent, (As partly I find it is) that your faire Daughter, At this odde Euen and dull watch o'th' night Transported with no worse nor better guard, But with a knaue of common hire, a Gundelier, To the grosse claspes of a Lasciuious Moore: If this be knowne to you, and your Allowance, We then haue done you bold, and saucie wrongs. But if you know not this, my Manners tell me, We haue your wrong rebuke. Do not beleeue That from the sence of all Ciuilitie, I thus would play and trifle with your Reuerence. Your Daughter (if you haue not giuen her leaue) I say againe, hath made a grosse reuolt, Tying her Dutie, Beautie, Wit, and Fortunes In an extrauagant, and wheeling Stranger, Of here, and euery where: straight satisfie your selfe. If she be in her Chamber, or your house, Let loose on me the Iustice of the State For thus deluding you

Bra. Strike on the Tinder, hoa: Giue me a Taper: call vp all my people, This Accident is not vnlike my dreame, Beleefe of it oppresses me alreadie. Light, I say, light. Enter.

Iag. Farewell: for I must leaue you. It seemes not meete, nor wholesome to my place To be producted, (as if I stay, I shall,) Against the Moore. For I do know the State, (How euer this may gall him with some checke) Cannot with safetie cast-him. For he's embark'd With such loud reason to the Cyprus Warres, (Which euen now stands in Act) that for their soules Another of his Fadome, they haue none, To lead their Businesse. In which regard, Though I do hate him as I do hell paines, Yet, for necessitie of present life, I must show out a Flag, and signe of Loue, (Which is indeed but signe) that you shal surely find him Lead to the Sagitary the raised Search: And there will I be with him. So farewell.

Enter.

Enter Brabantio, with Seruants and Torches.

Bra. It is too true an euill. Gone she is, And what's to come of my despised time, Is naught but bitternesse. Now Rodorigo, Where didst thou see her? (Oh vnhappie Girle) With the Moore saist thou? (Who would be a Father?) How didst thou know 'twas she? (Oh she deceaues me Past thought:) what said she to you? Get moe Tapers. Raise all my Kindred. Are they married thinke you? Rodo. Truely I thinke they are

Bra. Oh Heauen: how got she out? Oh treason of the blood. Fathers, from hence trust not your Daughters minds By what you see them act. Is there not Charmes, By which the propertie of Youth, and Maidhood May be abus'd? Haue you not read Rodorigo, Of some such thing? Rod. Yes Sir: I haue indeed

Bra. Call vp my Brother: oh would you had had her. Some one way, some another. Doe you know Where we may apprehend her, and the Moore? Rod. I thinke I can discouer him, if you please To get good Guard, and go along with me

Bra. Pray you lead on. At euery house Ile call, (I may command at most) get Weapons (hoa) And raise some speciall Officers of might: On good Rodorigo, I will deserue your paines.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, Attendants, with Torches.

Ia. Though in the trade of Warre I haue slaine men, Yet do I hold it very stuffe o'th' conscience To do no contriu'd Murder: I lacke Iniquitie Sometime to do me seruice. Nine, or ten times I had thought t'haue yerk'd him here vnder the Ribbes

Othello. 'Tis better as it is

Iago. Nay but he prated, And spoke such scuruy, and prouoking termes Against your Honor, that with the little godlinesse I haue I did full hard forbeare him. But I pray you Sir, Are you fast married? Be assur'd of this, That the Magnifico is much belou'd, And hath in his effect a voice potentiall As double as the Dukes: He will diuorce you. Or put vpon you, what restraint or greeuance, The Law (with all his might, to enforce it on) Will giue him Cable

Othel. Let him do his spight; My Seruices, which I haue done the Signorie Shall out-tongue his Complaints. 'Tis yet to know, Which when I know, that boasting is an Honour, I shall promulgate. I fetch my life and being, From Men of Royall Seige. And my demerites May speake (vnbonnetted) to as proud a Fortune As this that I haue reach'd. For know Iago, But that I loue the gentle Desdemona, I would not my vnhoused free condition Put into Circumscription, and Confine, For the Seas worth. But looke, what Lights come yond?

Enter Cassio, with Torches.

Iago. Those are the raised Father, and his Friends: You were best go in

Othel. Not I: I must be found. My Parts, my Title, and my perfect Soule Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? Iago. By Ianus, I thinke no

Othel. The Seruants of the Dukes? And my Lieutenant? The goodnesse of the Night vpon you (Friends) What is the Newes? Cassio. The Duke do's greet you (Generall) And he requires your haste, Post-haste appearance, Euen on the instant

Othello. What is the matter, thinke you? Cassio. Something from Cyprus, as I may diuine: It is a businesse of some heate. The Gallies Haue sent a dozen sequent Messengers This very night, at one anothers heeles: And many of the Consuls, rais'd and met, Are at the Dukes already. You haue bin hotly call'd for, When being not at your Lodging to be found, The Senate hath sent about three seuerall Quests, To search you out

Othel. 'Tis well I am found by you: I will but spend a word here in the house, And goe with you

Cassio. Aunciant, what makes he heere? Iago. Faith, he to night hath boarded a Land Carract, If it proue lawfull prize, he's made for euer

Cassio. I do not vnderstand

Iago. He's married

Cassio. To who? Iago. Marry to- Come Captaine, will you go? Othel. Haue with you

Cassio. Here comes another Troope to seeke for you.

Enter Brabantio, Rodorigo, with Officers, and Torches.

Iago. It is Brabantio: Generall be aduis'd, He comes to bad intent

Othello. Holla, stand there

Rodo. Signior, it is the Moore

Bra. Downe with him, Theefe

Iago. You, Rodorigo? Come Sir, I am for you

Othe. Keepe vp your bright Swords, for the dew will rust them. Good Signior, you shall more command with yeares, then with your Weapons

Bra. Oh thou foule Theefe, Where hast thou stow'd my Daughter? Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchaunted her For Ile referre me to all things of sense, (If she in Chaines of Magick were not bound) Whether a Maid, so tender, Faire, and Happie, So opposite to Marriage, that she shun'd The wealthy curled Deareling of our Nation, Would euer haue (t' encurre a generall mocke) Run from her Guardage to the sootie bosome, Of such a thing as thou: to feare, not to delight? Iudge me the world, if 'tis not grosse in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foule Charmes, Abus'd her delicate Youth, with Drugs or Minerals, That weakens Motion. Ile haue't disputed on, 'Tis probable, and palpable to thinking; I therefore apprehend and do attach thee, For an abuser of the World, a practiser Of Arts inhibited, and out of warrant; Lay hold vpon him, if he do resist Subdue him, at his perill

Othe. Hold your hands Both you of my inclining, and the rest. Were it my Cue to fight, I should haue knowne it Without a Prompter. Whether will you that I goe To answere this your charge? Bra. To Prison, till fit time Of Law, and course of direct Session Call thee to answer

Othe. What if I do obey? How may the Duke be therewith satisfi'd, Whose Messengers are heere about my side, Vpon some present businesse of the State, To bring me to him

Officer. 'Tis true most worthy Signior, The Dukes in Counsell, and your Noble selfe, I am sure is sent for

Bra. How? The Duke in Counsell? In this time of the night? Bring him away; Mine's not an idle Cause. The Duke himselfe, Or any of my Brothers of the State, Cannot but feele this wrong, as 'twere their owne: For if such Actions may haue passage free, Bond-slaues, and Pagans shall our Statesmen be.

Exeunt.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Duke, Senators, and Officers.

Duke. There's no composition in this Newes, That giues them Credite

1.Sen. Indeed, they are disproportioned; My Letters say, a Hundred and seuen Gallies

Duke. And mine a Hundred fortie

2.Sena. And mine two Hundred: But though they iumpe not on a iust accompt, (As in these Cases where the ayme reports, 'Tis oft with difference) yet do they all confirme A Turkish Fleete, and bearing vp to Cyprus

Duke. Nay, it is possible enough to iudgement: I do not so secure me in the Error, But the maine Article I do approue In fearefull sense

Saylor within. What hoa, what hoa, what hoa.

Enter Saylor.

Officer. A Messenger from the Gallies

Duke. Now? What's the businesse? Sailor. The Turkish Preparation makes for Rhodes, So was I bid report here to the State, By Signior Angelo

Duke. How say you by this change? 1.Sen. This cannot be By no assay of reason. 'Tis a Pageant To keepe vs in false gaze, when we consider Th' importancie of Cyprus to the Turke; And let our selues againe but vnderstand, That as it more concernes the Turke then Rhodes, So may he with more facile question beare it, For that it stands not in such Warrelike brace, But altogether lackes th' abilities That Rhodes is dress'd in. If we make thought of this, We must not thinke the Turke is so vnskillfull, To leaue that latest, which concernes him first, Neglecting an attempt of ease, and gaine To wake, and wage a danger profitlesse

Duke. Nay, in all confidence he's not for Rhodes

Officer. Here is more Newes.

Enter a Messenger.

Messen. The Ottamites, Reueren'd, and Gracious, Steering with due course toward the Ile of Rhodes, Haue there inioynted them with an after Fleete

1.Sen. I, so I thought: how many, as you guesse? Mess. Of thirtie Saile: and now they do re-stem Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, Your trustie and most Valiant Seruitour, With his free dutie, recommends you thus, And prayes you to beleeue him

Duke. 'Tis certaine then for Cyprus: Marcus Luccicos is not he in Towne? 1.Sen. He's now in Florence

Duke. Write from vs, To him, Post, Post-haste, dispatch

1.Sen. Here comes Brabantio, and the Valiant Moore.

Enter Brabantio, Othello, Cassio, Iago, Rodorigo, and Officers.

Duke. Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you, Against the generall Enemy Ottoman. I did not see you: welcome gentle Signior, We lack't your Counsaile, and your helpe to night

Bra. So did I yours: Good your Grace pardon me. Neither my place, nor ought I heard of businesse Hath rais'd me from my bed; nor doth the generall care Take hold on me. For my perticular griefe Is of so flood-gate, and ore-bearing Nature, That it engluts, and swallowes other sorrowes, And it is still it selfe

Duke. Why? What's the matter? Bra. My Daughter: oh my Daughter! Sen. Dead? Bra. I, to me. She is abus'd, stolne from me, and corrupted By Spels, and Medicines, bought of Mountebanks; For Nature, so prepostrously to erre, (Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense,) Sans witch-craft could not

Duke. Who ere he be, that in this foule proceeding Hath thus beguil'd your Daughter of her selfe, And you of her; the bloodie Booke of Law, You shall your selfe read, in the bitter letter, After your owne sense: yea, though our proper Son Stood in your Action

Bra. Humbly I thanke your Grace, Here is the man; this Moore, whom now it seemes Your speciall Mandate, for the State affaires Hath hither brought

All. We are verie sorry for't

Duke. What in your owne part, can you say to this? Bra. Nothing, but this is so

Othe. Most Potent, Graue, and Reueren'd Signiors, My very Noble, and approu'd good Masters; That I haue tane away this old mans Daughter, It is most true: true I haue married her; The verie head, and front of my offending, Hath this extent; no more. Rude am I, in my speech, And little bless'd with the soft phrase of Peace; For since these Armes of mine, had seuen yeares pith, Till now, some nine Moones wasted, they haue vs'd Their deerest action, in the Tented Field: And little of this great world can I speake, More then pertaines to Feats of Broiles, and Battaile, And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for my selfe. Yet, (by your gratious patience) I will a round vn-varnish'd Tale deliuer, Of my whole course of Loue. What Drugges, what Charmes, What Coniuration, and what mighty Magicke, (For such proceeding I am charg'd withall) I won his Daughter

Bra. A Maiden, neuer bold: Of Spirit so still, and quiet, that her Motion Blush'd at her selfe, and she, in spight of Nature, Of Yeares, of Country, Credite, euery thing To fall in Loue, with what she fear'd to looke on; It is a iudgement main'd, and most imperfect. That will confesse Perfection so could erre Against all rules of Nature, and must be driuen To find out practises of cunning hell Why this should be. I therefore vouch againe, That with some Mixtures, powrefull o're the blood, Or with some Dram, (coniur'd to this effect) He wrought vpon her. To vouch this, is no proofe, Without more wider, and more ouer Test Then these thin habits, and poore likely-hoods Of moderne seeming, do prefer against him

Sen. But Othello, speake, Did you, by indirect, and forced courses Subdue, and poyson this yong Maides affections? Or came it by request, and such faire question As soule, to soule affordeth? Othel. I do beseech you, Send for the Lady to the Sagitary, And let her speake of me before her Father; If you do finde me foule, in her report, The Trust, the Office, I do hold of you, Not onely take away, but let your Sentence Euen fall vpon my life

Duke. Fetch Desdemona hither

Othe. Aunciant, conduct them: You best know the place. And tell she come, as truely as to heauen, I do confesse the vices of my blood, So iustly to your Graue eares, Ile present How I did thriue in this faire Ladies loue, And she in mine

Duke. Say it Othello

Othe. Her Father lou'd me, oft inuited me: Still question'd me the Storie of my life, From yeare to yeare: the Battaile, Sieges, Fortune, That I haue past. I ran it through, euen from my boyish daies, Toth' very moment that he bad me tell it. Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances: Of mouing Accidents by Flood and Field, Of haire-breadth scapes i'th' imminent deadly breach; Of being taken by the Insolent Foe, And sold to slauery. Of my redemption thence, And portance in my Trauellours historie. Wherein of Antars vast, and Desarts idle, Rough Quarries, Rocks, Hills, whose head touch heauen, It was my hint to speake. Such was my Processe, And of the Canibals that each others eate, The Antropophague, and men whose heads Grew beneath their shoulders. These things to heare, Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house Affaires would draw her hence: Which euer as she could with haste dispatch, She'l'd come againe, and with a greedie eare Deuoure vp my discourse. Which I obseruing, Tooke once a pliant houre, and found good meanes To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my Pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not instinctiuely: I did consent, And often did beguile her of her teares, When I did speake of some distressefull stroke That my youth suffer'd: My Storie being done, She gaue me for my paines a world of kisses: She swore in faith 'twas strange: 'twas passing strange, 'Twas pittifull: 'twas wondrous pittifull. She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That Heauen had made her such a man. She thank'd me, And bad me, if I had a Friend that lou'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my Story, And that would wooe her. Vpon this hint I spake, She lou'd me for the dangers I had past, And I lou'd her, that she did pitty them. This onely is the witch-craft I haue vs'd. Here comes the Ladie: Let her witnesse it.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants.

Duke. I thinke this tale would win my Daughter too, Good Brabantio, take vp this mangled matter at the best: Men do their broken Weapons rather vse, Then their bare hands

Bra. I pray you heare her speake? If she confesse that she was halfe the wooer, Destruction on my head, if my bad blame Light on the man. Come hither gentle Mistris, Do you perceiue in all this Noble Companie, Where most you owe obedience? Des. My Noble Father, I do perceiue heere a diuided dutie. To you I am bound for life, and education: My life and education both do learne me, How to respect you. You are the Lord of duty, I am hitherto your Daughter. But heere's my Husband; And so much dutie, as my Mother shew'd To you, preferring you before her Father: So much I challenge, that I may professe Due to the Moore my Lord

Bra. God be with you: I haue done. Please it your Grace, on to the State Affaires; I had rather to adopt a Child, then get it. Come hither Moore; I here do giue thee that with all my heart, Which but thou hast already, with all my heart I would keepe from thee. For your sake (Iewell) I am glad at soule, I haue no other Child, For thy escape would teach me Tirranie To hang clogges on them. I haue done my Lord

Duke. Let me speake like your selfe: And lay a Sentence, Which as a grise, or step may helpe these Louers. When remedies are past, the griefes are ended By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. To mourne a Mischeefe that is past and gon, Is the next way to draw new mischiefe on. What cannot be preseru'd, when Fortune takes: Patience, her Iniury a mock'ry makes. The rob'd that smiles, steales something from the Thiefe, He robs himselfe, that spends a bootelesse griefe

Bra. So let the Turke of Cyprus vs beguile, We loose it not so long as we can smile: He beares the Sentence well, that nothing beares, But the free comfort which from thence he heares. But he beares both the Sentence, and the sorrow, That to pay griefe, must of poore Patience borrow. These Sentences, to Sugar, or to Gall, Being strong on both sides, are Equiuocall. But words are words, I neuer yet did heare: That the bruized heart was pierc'd through the eares. I humbly beseech you proceed to th' Affaires of State

Duke. The Turke with a most mighty Preparation makes for Cyprus: Othello, the Fortitude of the place is best knowne to you. And though we haue there a Substitute of most allowed sufficiencie; yet opinion, a more soueraigne Mistris of Effects, throwes a more safer voice on you: you must therefore be content to slubber the glosse of your new Fortunes, with this more stubborne, and boystrous expedition

Othe. The Tirant Custome, most Graue Senators, Hath made the flinty and Steele Coach of Warre My thrice-driuen bed of Downe. I do agnize A Naturall and prompt Alacratie, I finde in hardnesse: and do vndertake This present Warres against the Ottamites. Most humbly therefore bending to your State, I craue fit disposition for my Wife, Due reference of Place, and Exhibition, With such Accomodation and besort As leuels with her breeding

Duke. Why at her Fathers? Bra. I will not haue it so

Othe. Nor I

Des. Nor would I there recide, To put my Father in impatient thoughts By being in his eye. Most Gracious Duke, To my vnfolding, lend your prosperous eare, And let me finde a Charter in your voice T' assist my simplenesse

Duke. What would you Desdemona? Des. That I loue the Moore, to liue with him, My downe-right violence, and storme of Fortunes, May trumpet to the world. My heart's subdu'd Euen to the very quality of my Lord; I saw Othello's visage in his mind, And to his Honours and his valiant parts, Did I my soule and Fortunes consecrate. So that (deere Lords) if I be left behind A Moth of Peace, and he go to the Warre, The Rites for why I loue him, are bereft me: And I a heauie interim shall support By his deere absence. Let me go with him

Othe. Let her haue your voice. Vouch with me Heauen, I therefore beg it not To please the pallate of my Appetite: Nor to comply with heat the yong affects In my defunct, and proper satisfaction. But to be free, and bounteous to her minde: And Heauen defend your good soules, that you thinke I will your serious and great businesse scant When she is with me. No, when light wing'd Toyes Of feather'd Cupid, seele with wanton dulnesse My speculatiue, and offic'd Instrument: That my Disports corrupt, and taint my businesse: Let House-wiues make a Skillet of my Helme, And all indigne, and base aduersities, Make head against my Estimation

Duke. Be it as you shall priuately determine, Either for her stay, or going: th' Affaire cries hast: And speed must answer it

Sen. You must away to night

Othe. With all my heart

Duke. At nine i'th' morning, here wee'l meete againe. Othello, leaue some Officer behind And he shall our Commission bring to you: And such things else of qualitie and respect As doth import you

Othe. So please your Grace, my Ancient, A man he is of honesty and trust: To his conueyance I assigne my wife, With what else needfull, your good Grace shall think To be sent after me

Duke. Let it be so: Good night to euery one. And Noble Signior, If Vertue no delighted Beautie lacke, Your Son-in-law is farre more Faire then Blacke

Sen. Adieu braue Moore, vse Desdemona well

Bra. Looke to her (Moore) if thou hast eies to see: She ha's deceiu'd her Father, and may thee. Enter.

Othe. My life vpon her faith. Honest Iago, My Desdemona must I leaue to thee: I prythee let thy wife attend on her, And bring them after in the best aduantage. Come Desdemona, I haue but an houre Of Loue, of wordly matter, and direction To spend with thee. We must obey the time. Enter.

Rod. Iago

Iago. What saist thou Noble heart? Rod. What will I do, think'st thou? Iago. Why go to bed and sleepe

Rod. I will incontinently drowne my selfe

Iago. If thou do'st, I shall neuer loue thee after. Why thou silly Gentleman? Rod. It is sillynesse to liue, when to liue is torment: and then haue we a prescription to dye, when death is our Physition

Iago. Oh villanous: I haue look'd vpon the world for foure times seuen yeares, and since I could distinguish betwixt a Benefit, and an Iniurie: I neuer found man that knew how to loue himselfe. Ere I would say, I would drowne my selfe for the loue of a Gynney Hen, I would change my Humanity with a Baboone

Rod. What should I do? I confesse it is my shame to be so fond, but it is not in my vertue to amend it

Iago. Vertue? A figge, 'tis in our selues that we are thus, or thus. Our Bodies are our Gardens, to the which, our Wills are Gardiners. So that if we will plant Nettels, or sowe Lettice: Set Hisope, and weede vp Time: Supplie it with one gender of Hearbes, or distract it with many: either to haue it sterrill with idlenesse, or manured with Industry, why the power, and Corrigeable authoritie of this lies in our Wills. If the braine of our liues had not one Scale of Reason, to poize another of Sensualitie, the blood, and basenesse of our Natures would conduct vs to most prepostrous Conclusions. But we haue Reason to coole our raging Motions, our carnall Stings, or vnbitted Lusts: whereof I take this, that you call Loue, to be a Sect, or Seyen

Rod. It cannot be

Iago. It is meerly a Lust of the blood, and a permission of the will. Come, be a man: drowne thy selfe? Drown Cats, and blind Puppies. I haue profest me thy Friend, and I confesse me knit to thy deseruing, with Cables of perdurable toughnesse. I could neuer better steed thee then now. Put Money in thy purse: follow thou the Warres, defeate thy fauour, with an vsurp'd Beard. I say put Money in thy purse. It cannot be long that Desdemona should continue her loue to the Moore. Put Money in thy purse: nor he his to her. It was a violent Commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable Sequestration, put but Money in thy purse. These Moores are changeable in their wils: fill thy purse with Money. The Food that to him now is as lushious as Locusts, shalbe to him shortly, as bitter as Coloquintida. She must change for youth: when she is sated with his body she will find the errors of her choice. Therefore, put Money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damne thy selfe, do it a more delicate way then drowning. Make all the Money thou canst: If Sanctimonie, and a fraile vow, betwixt an erring Barbarian, and super-subtle Venetian be not too hard for my wits, and all the Tribe of hell, thou shalt enioy her: therefore make Money: a pox of drowning thy selfe, it is cleane out of the way. Seeke thou rather to be hang'd in Compassing thy ioy, then to be drown'd, and go without her

Rodo. Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on the issue? Iago. Thou art sure of me: Go make Money: I haue told thee often, and I re-tell thee againe, and againe, I hate the Moore. My cause is hearted; thine hath no lesse reason. Let vs be coniunctiue in our reuenge, against him. If thou canst Cuckold him, thou dost thy selfe a pleasure, me a sport. There are many Euents in the Wombe of Time, which wilbe deliuered. Trauerse, go, prouide thy Money. We will haue more of this to morrow. Adieu

Rod. Where shall we meete i'th' morning? Iago. At my Lodging

Rod. Ile be with thee betimes

Iago. Go too, farewell. Do you heare Rodorigo? Rod. Ile sell all my Land. Enter.

Iago. Thus do I euer make my Foole, my purse: For I mine owne gain'd knowledge should prophane If I would time expend with such Snipe, But for my Sport, and Profit: I hate the Moore, And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets She ha's done my Office. I know not if't be true, But I, for meere suspition in that kinde, Will do, as if for Surety. He holds me well, The better shall my purpose worke on him: Cassio's a proper man: Let me see now, To get his Place, and to plume vp my will In double Knauery. How? How? Let's see. After some time, to abuse Othello's eares, That he is too familiar with his wife: He hath a person, and a smooth dispose To be suspected: fram'd to make women false. The Moore is of a free, and open Nature, That thinkes men honest, that but seeme to be so, And will as tenderly be lead by'th' Nose As Asses are: I hau't: it is engendred: Hell, and Night, Must bring this monstrous Birth, to the worlds light.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Montano, and two Gentlemen.

Mon. What from the Cape, can you discerne at Sea? 1.Gent. Nothing at all, it is a high wrought Flood: I cannot 'twixt the Heauen, and the Maine, Descry a Saile

Mon. Me thinks, the wind hath spoke aloud at Land, A fuller blast ne're shooke our Battlements: If it hath ruffiand so vpon the Sea, What ribbes of Oake, when Mountaines melt on them, Can hold the Morties. What shall we heare of this? 2 A Segregation of the Turkish Fleet: For do but stand vpon the Foaming Shore, The chidden Billow seemes to pelt the Clowds, The winde-shak'd-Surge, with high & monstrous Maine Seemes to cast water on the burning Beare, And quench the Guards of th' euer-fixed Pole: I neuer did like mollestation view On the enchafed Flood

Men. If that the Turkish Fleete Be not enshelter'd, and embay'd, they are drown'd, It is impossible to beare it out. Enter a Gentleman.

3 Newes Laddes: our warres are done: The desperate Tempest hath so bang'd the Turkes, That their designement halts. A Noble ship of Venice, Hath seene a greeuous wracke and sufferance On most part of their Fleet

Mon. How? Is this true? 3 The Ship is heere put in: A Verennessa, Michael Cassio Lieutenant to the warlike Moore, Othello, Is come on Shore: the Moore himselfe at Sea, And is in full Commission heere for Cyprus

Mon. I am glad on't: 'Tis a worthy Gouernour

3 But this same Cassio, though he speake of comfort, Touching the Turkish losse, yet he lookes sadly, And praye the Moore be safe; for they were parted With fowle and violent Tempest

Mon. Pray Heauens he be: For I haue seru'd him, and the man commands Like a full Soldier. Let's to the Sea-side (hoa) As well to see the Vessell that's come in, As to throw-out our eyes for braue Othello, Euen till we make the Maine, and th' Eriall blew, An indistinct regard

Gent. Come, let's do so; For euery Minute is expectancie Of more Arriuancie. Enter Cassio.

Cassi. Thankes you, the valiant of the warlike Isle, That so approoue the Moore: Oh let the Heauens Giue him defence against the Elements, For I haue lost him on a dangerous Sea

Mon. Is he well ship'd? Cassio. His Barke is stoutly Timber'd, and his Pylot Of verie expert, and approu'd Allowance; Therefore my hope's (not surfetted to death) Stand in bold Cure

Within. A Saile, a Saile, a Saile

Cassio. What noise? Gent. The Towne is empty; on the brow o'th' Sea Stand rankes of People and they cry, a Saile

Cassio. My hopes do shape him for the Gouernor

Gent. They do discharge their Shot of Courtesie, Our Friends, at least

Cassio. I pray you Sir, go forth, And giue vs truth who 'tis that is arriu'd

Gent. I shall. Enter.

Mon. But good Lieutenant, is your Generall wiu'd? Cassio. Most fortunately: he hath atchieu'd a Maid That paragons description, and wilde Fame: One that excels the quirkes of Blazoning pens, And in th' essentiall Vesture of Creation, Do's tyre the Ingeniuer. Enter Gentleman.

How now? Who ha's put in? Gent. 'Tis one Iago, Auncient to the Generall

Cassio. Ha's had most fauourable, and happie speed: Tempests themselues, high Seas, and howling windes, The gutter'd-Rockes, and Congregated Sands, Traitors ensteep'd, to enclogge the guiltlesse Keele, As hauing sence of Beautie, do omit Their mortall Natures, letting go safely by The Diuine Desdemona

Mon. What is she? Cassio. She that I spake of: Our great Captains Captaine, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, Whose footing heere anticipates our thoughts, A Senights speed. Great Ioue, Othello guard, And swell his Saile with thine owne powrefull breath, That he may blesse this Bay with his tall Ship, Make loues quicke pants in Desdemonaes Armes, Giue renew'd fire to our extincted Spirits.

Enter Desdemona, Iago, Rodorigo, and Aemilia.

Oh behold, The Riches of the Ship is come on shore: You men of Cyprus, let her haue your knees. Haile to thee Ladie: and the grace of Heauen, Before, behinde thee, and on euery hand Enwheele thee round

Des. I thanke you, Valiant Cassio, What tydings can you tell of my Lord? Cas. He is not yet arriu'd, nor know I ought But that he's well, and will be shortly heere

Des. Oh, but I feare: How lost you company? Cassio. The great Contention of Sea, and Skies Parted our fellowship. But hearke, a Saile

Within. A Saile, a Saile

Gent. They giue this greeting to the Cittadell: This likewise is a Friend

Cassio. See for the Newes: Good Ancient, you are welcome. Welcome Mistris: Let it not gaule your patience (good Iago) That I extend my Manners. 'Tis my breeding, That giues me this bold shew of Curtesie

Iago. Sir, would she giue you so much of her lippes, As of her tongue she oft bestowes on me, You would haue enough

Des. Alas: she ha's no speech

Iago. Infaith too much: I finde it still, when I haue leaue to sleepe. Marry before your Ladyship, I grant, She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking

aemil. You haue little cause to say so

Iago. Come on, come on: you are Pictures out of doore: Bells in your Parlours: Wilde-Cats in your Kitchens: Saints in your Iniuries: Diuels being offended: Players in your Huswiferie, and Huswiues in your Beds

Des. Oh, fie vpon thee, Slanderer

Iago. Nay, it is true: or else I am a Turke, You rise to play, and go to bed to worke. Aemil. You shall not write my praise

Iago. No, let me not

Desde. What would'st write of me, if thou should'st praise me? Iago. Oh, gentle Lady, do not put me too't, For I am nothing, if not Criticall

Des. Come on, assay. There's one gone to the Harbour? Iago. I Madam

Des. I am not merry: but I do beguile The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. Come, how would'st thou praise me? Iago. I am about it, but indeed my inuention comes from my pate, as Birdlyme do's from Freeze, it pluckes out Braines and all. But my Muse labours, and thus she is deliuer'd. If she be faire, and wise: fairenesse, and wit, The ones for vse, the other vseth it

Des. Well prais'd: How if she be Blacke and Witty? Iago. If she be blacke, and thereto haue a wit, She'le find a white, that shall her blacknesse fit

Des. Worse, and worse. Aemil. How if Faire, and Foolish? Iago. She neuer yet was foolish that was faire, For euen her folly helpt her to an heire

Desde. These are old fond Paradoxes, to make Fooles laugh i'th' Alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for her that's Foule, and Foolish

Iago. There's none so foule and foolish thereunto, But do's foule pranks, which faire, and wise-ones do

Desde. Oh heauy ignorance: thou praisest the worst best. But what praise could'st thou bestow on a deseruing woman indeed? One, that in the authorithy of her merit, did iustly put on the vouch of very malice it selfe

Iago. She that was euer faire, and neuer proud, Had Tongue at will, and yet was neuer loud: Neuer lackt Gold, and yet went neuer gay, Fled from her wish, and yet said now I may. She that being angred, her reuenge being nie, Bad her wrong stay, and her displeasure flie: She that in wisedome neuer was so fraile, To change the Cods-head for the Salmons taile: She that could thinke, and neu'r disclose her mind, See Suitors following, and not looke behind: She was a wight, (if euer such wightes were) Des. To do what? Iago. To suckle Fooles, and chronicle small Beere

Desde. Oh most lame and impotent conclusion. Do not learne of him aemillia, though he be thy husband. How say you (Cassio) is he not a most prophane, and liberall Counsailor? Cassio. He speakes home (Madam) you may rellish him more in the Souldier, then in the Scholler

Iago. He takes her by the palme: I, well said, whisper. With as little a web as this, will I ensnare as great a Fly as Cassio. I smile vpon her, do: I will giue thee in thine owne Courtship. You say true, 'tis so indeed. If such tricks as these strip you out of your Lieutenantrie, it had beene better you had not kiss'd your three fingers so oft, which now againe you are most apt to play the Sir, in. Very good: well kiss'd, and excellent Curtsie: 'tis so indeed. Yet againe, your fingers to your lippes? Would they were Cluster-pipes for your sake. The Moore I know his Trumpet

Cassio. 'Tis truely so

Des. Let's meete him, and recieue him

Cassio. Loe, where he comes. Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Oth. O, my faire Warriour

Des. My deere Othello

Othe. It giues me wonder great, as my content To see you heere before me. Oh my Soules Ioy: If after euery Tempest, come such Calmes, May the windes blow, till they haue waken'd death: And let the labouring Barke climbe hills of Seas Olympus high: and duck againe as low, As hell's from Heauen. 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 vnknowne Fate

Des. The Heauens forbid But that our Loues And Comforts should encrease Euen as our dayes do grow

Othe. Amen to that (sweet Powers) I cannot speake enough of this content, It stoppes me heere: it is too much of ioy. And this, and this the greatest discords be That ere our hearts shall make

Iago. Oh you are well tun'd now: But Ile set downe the peggs that make this Musicke, as honest as I am

Othe. Come: let vs to the Castle. Newes (Friends) our Warres are done: The Turkes are drown'd. How do's my old Acquaintance of this Isle? (Hony) you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus, I haue found great loue among'st them. Oh my Sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I doate In mine owne comforts. I prythee, good Iago, Go to the Bay, and disimbarke my Coffers: Bring thou the Master to the Cittadell, He is a good one, and his worthynesse Do's challenge much respect. Come Desdemona, Once more well met at Cyprus.

Exit Othello and Desdemona.

Iago. Do thou meet me presently at the Harbour. Come thither, if thou be'st Valiant, (as they say base men being in Loue, haue then a Nobilitie in their Natures, more then is natiue to them) list-me; the Lieutenant to night watches on the Court of Guard. First, I must tell thee this: Desdemona, is directly in loue with him

Rod. With him? Why, 'tis not possible

Iago. Lay thy finger thus: and let thy soule be instructed. Marke me with what violence she first lou'd the Moore, but for bragging, and telling her fantasticall lies. To loue him still for prating, let not thy discreet heart thinke it. Her eye must be fed. And what delight shall she haue to looke on the diuell? When the Blood is made dull with the Act of Sport, there should be a game to enflame it, and to giue Satiety a fresh appetite. Louelinesse in fauour, simpathy in yeares, Manners, and Beauties: all which the Moore is defectiue in. Now for want of these requir'd Conueniences, her delicate tendernesse wil finde it selfe abus'd, begin to heaue the, gorge, disrellish and abhorre the Moore, very Nature wil instruct her in it, and compell her to some second choice. Now Sir, this granted (as it is a most pregnant and vnforc'd position) who stands so eminent in the degree of this Fortune, as Cassio do's: a knaue very voluble: no further conscionable, then in putting on the meere forme of Ciuill, and Humaine seeming, for the better compasse of his salt, and most hidden loose Affection? Why none, why none: A slipper, and subtle knaue, a finder of occasion: that he's an eye can stampe, and counterfeit Aduantages, though true Aduantage neuer present it selfe. A diuelish knaue: besides, the knaue is handsome, young: and hath all those requisites in him, that folly and greene mindes looke after. A pestilent compleat knaue, and the woman hath found him already

Rodo. I cannot beleeue that in her, she's full of most bless'd condition

Iago. Bless'd figges-end. The Wine she drinkes is made of grapes. If shee had beene bless'd, shee would neuer haue lou'd the Moore: Bless'd pudding. Didst thou not see her paddle with the palme of his hand? Didst not marke that? Rod. Yes, that I did: but that was but curtesie

Iago . Leacherie by this hand: an Index, and obscure prologue to the History of Lust and foule Thoughts. They met so neere with their lippes, that their breathes embrac'd together. Villanous thoughts Rodorigo, when these mutabilities so marshall the way, hard at hand comes the Master, and maine exercise, th' incorporate conclusion: Pish. But Sir, be you rul'd by me. I haue brought you from Venice. Watch you to night: for the Command, Ile lay't vpon you. Cassio knowes you not: Ile not be farre from you. Do you finde some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking too loud, or tainting his discipline, or from what other course you please, which the time shall more fauorably minister

Rod. Well

Iago. Sir, he's rash, and very sodaine in Choller: and happely may strike at you, prouoke him that he may: for euen out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to Mutiny. Whose qualification shall come into no true taste againe, but by the displanting of Cassio. So shall you haue a shorter iourney to your desires, by the meanes I shall then haue to preferre them. And the impediment most profitably remoued, without the which there were no expectation of our prosperitie

Rodo. I will do this, if you can bring it to any opportunity

Iago. I warrant thee. Meete me by and by at the Cittadell. I must fetch his Necessaries a Shore. Farewell

Rodo. Adieu. Enter.

Iago. That Cassio loues her, I do well beleeu't: That she loues him, 'tis apt, and of great Credite. The Moore (howbeit that I endure him not) Is of a constant, louing, Noble Nature, And I dare thinke, he'le proue to Desdemona A most deere husband. Now I do loue her too, Not out of absolute Lust, (though peraduenture I stand accomptant for as great a sin) But partely led to dyet my Reuenge, For that I do suspect the lustie Moore Hath leap'd into my Seate. The thought whereof, Doth (like a poysonous Minerall) gnaw my Inwardes: And nothing can, or shall content my Soule Till I am eeuen'd with him, wife, for wife. Or fayling so, yet that I put the Moore, At least into a Ielouzie so strong That iudgement cannot cure. Which thing to do, If this poore Trash of Venice, whom I trace For his quicke hunting, stand the putting on, Ile haue our Michael Cassio on the hip, Abuse him to the Moore, in the right garbe (For I feare Cassio with my Night-Cape too) Make the Moore thanke me, loue me, and reward me, For making him egregiously an Asse, And practising vpon his peace, and quiet, Euen to madnesse. 'Tis heere: but yet confus'd, Knaueries plaine face, is neuer seene, till vs'd. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello's Herald with a Proclamation.

Herald. It is Othello's pleasure, our Noble and Valiant Generall. That vpon certaine tydings now arriu'd, importing the meere perdition of the Turkish Fleete: euery man put himselfe into Triumph. Some to daunce, some to make Bonfires, each man, to what Sport and Reuels his addition leads him. For besides these beneficiall Newes, it is the Celebration of his Nuptiall. So much was his pleasure should be proclaimed. All offices are open, & there is full libertie of Feasting from this present houre of fiue, till the Bell haue told eleuen. Blesse the Isle of Cyprus, and our Noble Generall Othello. Enter.

Enter Othello, Desdemona, Cassio, and Attendants.

Othe. Good Michael, looke you to the guard to night. Let's teach our selues that Honourable stop, Not to out-sport discretion

Cas. Iago, hath direction what to do. But notwithstanding with my personall eye Will I looke to't

Othe. Iago, is most honest: Michael, goodnight. To morrow with your earliest, Let me haue speech with you. Come my deere Loue, The purchase made, the fruites are to ensue, That profit's yet to come 'tweene me, and you. Goodnight. Enter.

Enter Iago.

Cas. Welcome Iago: we must to the Watch

Iago. Not this houre Lieutenant: 'tis not yet ten o'th' clocke. Our Generall cast vs thus earely for the loue of his Desdemona: Who, let vs not therefore blame; he hath not yet made wanton the night with her: and she is sport for Ioue

Cas. She's a most exquisite Lady

Iago. And Ile warrant her, full of Game

Cas. Indeed shes a most fresh and delicate creature

Iago. What an eye she ha's? Me thinkes it sounds a parley to prouocation

Cas. An inuiting eye: And yet me thinkes right modest

Iago. And when she speakes, Is it not an Alarum to Loue? Cas. She is indeed perfection

Iago. Well: happinesse to their Sheetes. Come Lieutenant, I haue a stope of Wine, and heere without are a brace of Cyprus Gallants, that would faine haue a measure to the health of blacke Othello

Cas. Not to night, good Iago, I haue very poore, and vnhappie Braines for drinking. I could well wish Curtesie would inuent some other Custome of entertainment

Iago. Oh, they are our Friends: but one Cup, Ile drinke for you

Cassio. I haue drunke but one Cup to night, and that was craftily qualified too: and behold what inouation it makes heere. I am infortunate in the infirmity, and dare not taske my weakenesse with any more

Iago. What man? 'Tis a night of Reuels, the Gallants desire it

Cas. Where are they? Iago. Heere, at the doore: I pray you call them in

Cas. Ile do't, but it dislikes me. Enter.

Iago. If I can fasten but one Cup vpon him With that which he hath drunke to night alreadie, He'l be as full of Quarrell, and offence As my yong Mistris dogge. Now my sicke Foole Rodorigo, Whom Loue hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, To Desdemona hath to night Carrows'd. Potations, pottle-deepe; and he's to watch. Three else of Cyprus, Noble swelling Spirites, (That hold their Honours in a wary distance, The very Elements of this Warrelike Isle) Haue I to night fluster'd with flowing Cups, And they Watch too. Now 'mongst this Flocke of drunkards Am I put to our Cassio in some Action That may offend the Isle. But here they come. Enter Cassio, Montano, and Gentlemen.

If Consequence do but approue my dreame, My Boate sailes freely, both with winde and Streame

Cas. 'Fore heauen, they haue giuen me a rowse already

Mon. Good-faith a litle one: not past a pint, as I am a Souldier

Iago. Some Wine hoa. And let me the Cannakin clinke, clinke: And let me the Cannakin clinke. A Souldiers a man: Oh, mans life's but a span, Why then let a Souldier drinke. Some Wine Boyes

Cas. 'Fore Heauen: an excellent Song

Iago. I learn'd it in England: where indeed they are most potent in Potting. Your Dane, your Germaine, and your swag-belly'd Hollander, (drinke hoa) are nothing to your English

Cassio. Is your Englishmen so exquisite in his drinking? Iago. Why, he drinkes you with facillitie, your Dane dead drunke. He sweates not to ouerthrow your Almaine. He giues your Hollander a vomit, ere the next Pottle can be fill'd

Cas. To the health of our Generall

Mon. I am for it Lieutenant: and Ile do you Iustice

Iago. Oh sweet England. King Stephen was anda worthy Peere, His Breeches cost him but a Crowne, He held them Six pence all to deere, With that he cal'd the Tailor Lowne: He was a wight of high Renowne, And thou art but of low degree: 'Tis Pride that pulls the Country downe, And take thy awl'd Cloake about thee. Some Wine hoa

Cassio. Why this is a more exquisite Song then the other

Iago. Will you heare't againe? Cas. No: for I hold him to be vnworthy of his Place, that do's those things. Well: heau'ns aboue all: and there be soules must be saued, and there be soules must not be saued

Iago. It's true, good Lieutenant

Cas. For mine owne part, no offence to the Generall, nor any man of qualitie: I hope to be saued

Iago. And so do I too Lieutenant

Cassio. I: (but by your leaue) not before me. The Lieutenant is to be saued before the Ancient. Let's haue no more of this: let's to our Affaires. Forgiue vs our sinnes: Gentlemen let's looke to our businesse. Do not thinke Gentlemen, I am drunke: this is my Ancient, this is my right hand, and this is my left. I am not drunke now: I can stand well enough, and I speake well enough

Gent. Excellent well

Cas. Why very well then: you must not thinke then, that I am drunke. Enter.

Monta. To th' Platforme (Masters) come, let's set the Watch

Iago. You see this Fellow, that is gone before, He's a Souldier, fit to stand by Caesar, And giue direction. And do but see his vice, 'Tis to his vertue, a iust Equinox, The one as long as th' other. 'Tis pittie of him: I feare the trust Othello puts him in, On some odde time of his infirmitie Will shake this Island

Mont. But is he often thus? Iago. 'Tis euermore his prologue to his sleepe, He'le watch the Horologe a double Set, If Drinke rocke not his Cradle

Mont. It were well The Generall were put in mind of it: Perhaps he sees it not, or his good nature Prizes the vertue that appeares in Cassio, And lookes not on his euills: is not this true? Enter Rodorigo.

Iago. How now Rodorigo? I pray you after the Lieutenant, go

Mon. And 'tis great pitty, that the Noble Moore Should hazard such a Place, as his owne Second With one of an ingraft Infirmitie, It were an honest Action, to say so To the Moore

Iago. Not I, for this faire Island, I do loue Cassio well: and would do much To cure him of this euill, But hearke, what noise? Enter Cassio pursuing Rodorigo.

Cas. You Rogue: you Rascall

Mon. What's the matter Lieutenant? Cas. A Knaue teach me my dutie? Ile beate the Knaue in to a Twiggen-Bottle

Rod. Beate me? Cas. Dost thou prate, Rogue? Mon. Nay, good Lieutenant: I pray you Sir, hold your hand

Cassio. Let me go (Sir) Or Ile knocke you o're the Mazard

Mon. Come, come: you're drunke

Cassio. Drunke? Iago. Away I say: go out and cry a Mutinie. Nay good Lieutenant. Alas Gentlemen: Helpe hoa. Lieutenant. Sir Montano: Helpe Masters. Heere's a goodly Watch indeed. Who's that which rings the Bell: Diablo, hoa: The Towne will rise. Fie, fie Lieutenant, You'le be asham'd for euer. Enter Othello, and Attendants.

Othe. What is the matter heere? Mon. I bleed still, I am hurt to th' death. He dies

Othe. Hold for your liues

Iag. Hold hoa: Lieutenant, Sir Montano, Gentlemen: Haue you forgot all place of sense and dutie? Hold. The Generall speaks to you: hold for shame

Oth. Why how now hoa? From whence ariseth this? Are we turn'd Turkes? and to our selues do that Which Heauen hath forbid the Ottamittes. For Christian shame, put by this barbarous Brawle: He that stirs next, to carue for his owne rage, Holds his soule light: He dies vpon his Motion. Silence that dreadfull Bell, it frights the Isle, From her propriety. What is the matter, Masters? Honest Iago, that lookes dead with greeuing, Speake: who began this? On thy loue I charge thee? Iago. I do not know: Friends all, but now, euen now. In Quarter, and in termes like Bride, and Groome Deuesting them for Bed: and then, but now: (As if some Planet had vnwitted men) Swords out, and tilting one at others breastes, In opposition bloody. I cannot speake Any begining to this peeuish oddes. And would, in Action glorious, I had lost Those legges, that brought me to a part of it

Othe. How comes it (Michaell) you are thus forgot? Cas. I pray you pardon me, I cannot speake

Othe. Worthy Montano, you were wont to be ciuill: The grauitie, and stillnesse of your youth The world hath noted. And your name is great In mouthes of wisest Censure. What's the matter That you vnlace your reputation thus, And spend your rich opinion, for the name Of a night-brawler? Giue me answer to it

Mon. Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger, Your Officer Iago, can informe you, While I spare speech which something now offends me. Of all that I do know, nor know I ought By me, that's said, or done amisse this night, Vnlesse selfe-charitie be sometimes a vice, And to defend our selues, it be a sinne When violence assailes vs

Othe. Now by Heauen, My blood begins my safer Guides to rule, And passion (hauing my best iudgement collied) Assaies to leade the way. If I once stir, Or do but lift this Arme, the best of you Shall sinke in my rebuke. Giue me to know How this foule Rout began: Who set it on, And he that is approu'd in this offence, Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, Shall loose me. What in a Towne of warre, Yet wilde, the peoples hearts brim-full of feare, To Manage priuate, and domesticke Quarrell? In night, and on the Court and Guard of safetie? 'Tis monstrous: Iago, who began't? Mon. If partially Affin'd, or league in office, Thou dost deliuer more, or lesse then Truth, Thou art no Souldier

Iago. Touch me not so neere, I had rather haue this tongue cut from my mouth, Then it should do offence to Michaell Cassio. Yet I perswade my selfe, to speake the truth Shall nothing wrong him. This it is Generall: Montano and my selfe being in speech, There comes a Fellow, crying out for helpe, And Cassio following him with determin'd Sword To execute vpon him. Sir, this Gentleman, Steppes in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: My selfe, the crying Fellow did pursue, Least by his clamour (as it so fell out) The Towne might fall in fright. He, (swift of foote) Out-ran my purpose: and I return'd then rather For that I heard the clinke, and fall of Swords, And Cassio high in oath: Which till to night I nere might say before. When I came backe (For this was briefe) I found them close together At blow, and thrust, euen as againe they were When you your selfe did part them. More of this matter cannot I report, But Men are Men: The best sometimes forget, Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, As men in rage strike those that wish them best, Yet surely Cassio, I beleeue receiu'd From him that fled, some strange Indignitie, Which patience could not passe

Othe. I know Iago Thy honestie, and loue doth mince this matter, Making it light to Cassio: Cassio, I loue thee, But neuer more be Officer of mine. Enter Desdemona attended.

Looke if my gentle Loue be not rais'd vp: Ile make thee an example

Des. What is the matter (Deere?) Othe. All's well, Sweeting: Come away to bed. Sir for your hurts, My selfe will be your Surgeon. Lead him off: Iago, looke with care about the Towne, And silence those whom this vil'd brawle distracted. Come Desdemona, 'tis the Soldiers life, To haue their Balmy slumbers wak'd with strife. Enter.

Iago. What are you hurt Lieutenant? Cas. I, past all Surgery

Iago. Marry Heauen forbid

Cas. Reputation, Reputation, Reputation: Oh I haue lost my Reputation. I haue lost the immortall part of myselfe, and what remaines is bestiall. My Reputation, Iago, my Reputation

Iago. As I am an honest man I had thought you had receiued some bodily wound; there is more sence in that then in Reputation. Reputation is an idle, and most false imposition; oft got without merit, and lost without deseruing. You haue lost no Reputation at all, vnlesse you repute your selfe such a looser. What man, there are more wayes to recouer the Generall againe. You are but now cast in his moode, (a punishment more in policie, then in malice) euen so as one would beate his offencelesse dogge, to affright an Imperious Lyon. Sue to him againe, and he's yours

Cas. I will rather sue to be despis'd, then to deceiue so good a Commander, with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an Officer. Drunke? And speake Parrat? And squabble? Swagger? Sweare? And discourse Fustian with ones owne shadow? Oh thou invisible spirit of Wine, if thou hast no name to be knowne by, let vs call thee Diuell

Iago. What was he that you follow'd with your Sword? What had he done to you? Cas. I know not

Iago. Is't possible? Cas. I remember a masse of things, but nothing distinctly: a Quarrell, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an Enemie in their mouthes, to steale away their Braines? that we should with ioy, pleasance, reuell and applause, transforme our selues into Beasts

Iago. Why? But you are now well enough: how came you thus recouered? Cas. It hath pleas'd the diuell drunkennesse, to giue place to the diuell wrath, one vnperfectnesse, shewes me another to make me frankly despise my selfe

Iago. Come, you are too seuere a Moraller. As the Time, the Place, & the Condition of this Country stands I could hartily wish this had not befalne: but since it is, as it is, mend it for your owne good

Cas. I will aske him for my Place againe, he shall tell me, I am a drunkard: had I as many mouthes as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a Foole, and presently a Beast. Oh strange! Euery inordinate cup is vnbless'd, and the Ingredient is a diuell

Iago. Come, come: good wine, is a good familiar Creature, if it be well vs'd: exclaime no more against it. And good Lieutenant, I thinke, you thinke I loue you

Cassio. I haue well approued it, Sir. I drunke? Iago. You, or any man liuing, may be drunke at a time man. I tell you what you shall do: Our General's Wife, is now the Generall. I may say so, in this respect, for that he hath deuoted, and giuen vp himselfe to the Contemplation, marke: and deuotement of her parts and Graces. Confesse your selfe freely to her: Importune her helpe to put you in your place againe. She is of so free, so kinde, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodnesse, not to do more then she is requested. This broken ioynt betweene you, and her husband, entreat her to splinter. And my Fortunes against any lay worth naming, this cracke of your Loue, shall grow stronger, then it was before

Cassio. You aduise me well

Iago. I protest in the sinceritie of Loue, and honest kindnesse

Cassio. I thinke it freely: and betimes in the morning, I will beseech the vertuous Desdemona to vndertake for me: I am desperate of my Fortunes if they check me

Iago. You are in the right: good night Lieutenant, I must to the Watch

Cassio. Good night, honest Iago.

Exit Cassio.

Iago. And what's he then, That saies I play the Villaine? When this aduise is free I giue, and honest, Proball to thinking, and indeed the course To win the Moore againe. For 'tis most easie Th' inclyning Desdemona to subdue In any honest Suite. She's fram'd as fruitefull As the free Elements. And then for her To win the Moore, were to renownce his Baptisme, All Seales, and Simbols of redeemed sin: His Soule is so enfetter'd to her Loue, That she may make, vnmake, do what she list, Euen as her Appetite shall play the God, With his weake Function. How am I then a Villaine, To Counsell Cassio to this paralell course, Directly to his good? Diuinitie of hell, When diuels will the blackest sinnes put on, They do suggest at first with heauenly shewes, As I do now. For whiles this honest Foole Plies Desdemona, to repaire his Fortune, And she for him, pleades strongly to the Moore, Ile powre this pestilence into his eare: That she repeales him, for her bodies Lust, And by how much she striues to do him good, She shall vndo her Credite with the Moore. So will I turne her vertue into pitch. And out of her owne goodnesse make the Net, That shall en-mash them all. How now Rodorigo? Enter Rodorigo.

Rodorigo. I do follow heere in the Chace, not like a Hound that hunts, but one that filles vp the Crie. My Money is almost spent; I haue bin to night exceedingly well Cudgell'd: And I thinke the issue will bee, I shall haue so much experience for my paines; And so, with no money at all, and a little more Wit, returne againe to Venice

Iago. How poore are they that haue not Patience? What wound did euer heale but by degrees? Thou know'st we worke by Wit, and not by Witchcraft And Wit depends on dilatory time: Dos't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee, And thou by that small hurt hath casheer'd Cassio: Though other things grow faire against the Sun, Yet Fruites that blossome first, will first be ripe: Content thy selfe, a-while. Introth 'tis Morning; Pleasure, and Action, make the houres seeme short. Retire thee, go where thou art Billited: Away, I say, thou shalt know more heereafter: Nay get thee gone.

Exit Roderigo.

Two things are to be done: My Wife must moue for Cassio to her Mistris: Ile set her on my selfe, a while, to draw the Moor apart, And bring him iumpe, when he may Cassio finde Soliciting his wife: I, that's the way: Dull not Deuice, by coldnesse, and delay. Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter Cassio, Musitians, and Clowne.

Cassio. Masters, play heere, I wil content your paines, Something that's briefe: and bid, goodmorrow General

Clo. Why Masters, haue your Instruments bin in Naples, that they speake i'th' Nose thus? Mus. How Sir? how? Clo. Are these I pray you, winde Instruments? Mus. I marry are they sir

Clo. Oh, thereby hangs a tale

Mus. Whereby hangs a tale, sir? Clow. Marry sir, by many a winde Instrument that I know. But Masters, heere's money for you: and the Generall so likes your Musick, that he desires you for loues sake to make no more noise with it

Mus. Well Sir, we will not

Clo. If you haue any Musicke that may not be heard, too't againe. But (as they say) to heare Musicke, the Generall do's not greatly care

Mus. We haue none such, sir

Clow. Then put vp your Pipes in your bagge, for Ile away. Go, vanish into ayre, away.

Exit Mu.

Cassio. Dost thou heare me, mine honest Friend? Clo. No, I heare not your honest Friend: I heare you

Cassio. Prythee keepe vp thy Quillets, ther's a poore peece of Gold for thee: if the Gentlewoman that attends the Generall be stirring, tell her, there's one Cassio entreats her a little fauour of Speech. Wilt thou do this? Clo. She is stirring sir: if she will stirre hither, I shall seeme to notifie vnto her.

Exit Clo.

Enter Iago.

In happy time, Iago

Iago. You haue not bin a-bed then? Cassio. Why no: the day had broke before we parted. I haue made bold (Iago) to send in to your wife: My suite to her is, that she will to vertuous Desdemona Procure me some accesse

Iago. Ile send her to you presently: And Ile deuise a meane to draw the Moore Out of the way, that your conuerse and businesse May be more free.

Exit

Cassio. I humbly thanke you for't. I neuer knew A Florentine more kinde, and honest. Enter aemilia.

Aemil. Goodmorrow (good Lieutenant) I am sorrie For your displeasure: but all will sure be well. The Generall and his wife are talking of it, And she speakes for you stoutly. The Moore replies, That he you hurt is of great Fame in Cyprus, And great Affinitie: and that in wholsome Wisedome He might not but refuse you. But he protests he loues you And needs no other Suitor, but his likings To bring you in againe

Cassio. Yet I beseech you, If you thinke fit, or that it may be done, Giue me aduantage of some breefe Discourse With Desdemon alone. Aemil. Pray you come in: I will bestow you where you shall haue time To speake your bosome freely

Cassio. I am much bound to you.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Othello, Iago, and Gentlemen.

Othe. These Letters giue (Iago) to the Pylot, And by him do my duties to the Senate: That done, I will be walking on the Workes, Repaire there to mee

Iago. Well, my good Lord, Ile doo't

Oth. This Fortification (Gentlemen) shall we see't? Gent. Well waite vpon your Lordship.

Exeunt.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Desdemona, Cassio, and aemilia.

Des. Be thou assur'd (good Cassio) I will do All my abilities in thy behalfe. Aemil. Good Madam do: I warrant it greeues my Husband, As if the cause were his

Des. Oh that's an honest Fellow, Do not doubt Cassio But I will haue my Lord, and you againe As friendly as you were

Cassio. Bounteous Madam, What euer shall become of Michael Cassio, He's neuer any thing but your true Seruant

Des. I know't: I thanke you: you do loue my Lord: You haue knowne him long, and be you well assur'd He shall in strangenesse stand no farther off, Then in a politique distance

Cassio. I, but Lady, That policie may either last so long, Or feede vpon such nice and waterish diet, Or breede it selfe so out of Circumstances, That I being absent, and my place supply'd, My Generall will forget my Loue, and Seruice

Des. Do not doubt that: before aemilia here, I giue thee warrant of thy place. Assure thee, If I do vow a friendship, Ile performe it To the last Article. My Lord shall neuer rest, Ile watch him tame, and talke him out of patience; His Bed shall seeme a Schoole, his Boord a Shrift, Ile intermingle euery thing he do's With Cassio's suite: Therefore be merry Cassio, For thy Solicitor shall rather dye, Then giue thy cause away. Enter Othello, and Iago.

Aemil. Madam, heere comes my Lord

Cassio. Madam, Ile take my leaue

Des. Why stay, and heare me speake

Cassio. Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, Vnfit for mine owne purposes

Des. Well, do your discretion.

Exit Cassio.

Iago. Hah? I like not that

Othel. What dost thou say? Iago. Nothing my Lord; or if- I know not what

Othel. Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? Iago. Cassio my Lord? No sure, I cannot thinke it That he would steale away so guilty-like, Seeing your comming

Oth. I do beleeue 'twas he

Des. How now my Lord? I haue bin talking with a Suitor heere, A man that languishes in your displeasure

Oth. Who is't you meane? Des. Why your Lieutenant Cassio: Good my Lord, If I haue any grace, or power to moue you, His present reconciliation take. For if he be not one, that truly loues you, That erres in Ignorance, and not in Cunning, I haue no iudgement in an honest face. I prythee call him backe

Oth. Went he hence now? Des. I sooth; so humbled, That he hath left part of his greefe with mee To suffer with him. Good Loue, call him backe

Othel. Not now (sweet Desdemon) some other time

Des. But shall't be shortly? Oth. The sooner (Sweet) for you

Des. Shall't be to night, at Supper? Oth. No, not to night

Des. To morrow Dinner then? Oth. I shall not dine at home: I meete the Captaines at the Cittadell

Des. Why then to morrow night, on Tuesday morne, On Tuesday noone, or night; on Wensday Morne. I prythee name the time, but let it not Exceed three dayes. Infaith hee's penitent: And yet his Trespasse, in our common reason (Saue that they say the warres must make example) Out of her best, is not almost a fault T' encurre a priuate checke. When shall he come? Tell me Othello. I wonder in my Soule What you would aske me, that I should deny, Or stand so mam'ring on? What? Michael Cassio, That came a woing with you? and so many a time (When I haue spoke of you dispraisingly) Hath tane your part, to haue so much to do To bring him in? Trust me, I could do much

Oth. Prythee no more: Let him come when he will: I will deny thee nothing

Des. Why, this is not a Boone: 'Tis as I should entreate you weare your Gloues, Or feede on nourishing dishes, or keepe you warme, Or sue to you, to do a peculiar profit To your owne person. Nay, when I haue a suite Wherein I meane to touch your Loue indeed, It shall be full of poize, and difficult waight, And fearefull to be granted

Oth. I will deny thee nothing. Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, To leaue me but a little to my selfe

Des. Shall I deny you? No: farewell my Lord

Oth. Farewell my Desdemona, Ile come to thee strait

Des. aemilia come; be as your Fancies teach you: What ere you be, I am obedient. Enter.

Oth. Excellent wretch: Perdition catch my Soule But I do loue thee: and when I loue thee not, Chaos is come againe

Iago. My Noble Lord

Oth. What dost thou say, Iago? Iago. Did Michael Cassio When he woo'd my Lady, know of your loue? Oth. He did, from first to last: Why dost thou aske? Iago. But for a satisfaction of my Thought, No further harme

Oth. Why of thy thought, Iago? Iago. I did not thinke he had bin acquainted with hir

Oth. O yes, and went betweene vs very oft

Iago. Indeed? Oth. Indeed? I indeed. Discern'st thou ought in that? Is he not honest? Iago. Honest, my Lord? Oth. Honest? I, Honest

Iago. My Lord, for ought I know

Oth. What do'st thou thinke? Iago. Thinke, my Lord? Oth. Thinke, my Lord? Alas, thou ecchos't me; As if there were some Monster in thy thought Too hideous to be shewne. Thou dost mean somthing: I heard thee say euen now, thou lik'st not that, When Cassio left my wife. What didd'st not like? And when I told thee, he was of my Counsaile, Of my whole course of wooing; thou cried'st, Indeede? And didd'st contract, and purse thy brow together, As if thou then hadd'st shut vp in thy Braine Some horrible Conceite. If thou do'st loue me, Shew me thy thought

Iago. My Lord, you know I loue you

Oth. I thinke thou do'st: And for I know thou'rt full of Loue, and Honestie, And weigh'st thy words before thou giu'st them breath, Therefore these stops of thine, fright me the more: For such things in a false disloyall Knaue Are trickes of Custome: but in a man that's iust, They're close dilations, working from the heart, That Passion cannot rule

Iago. For Michael Cassio, I dare be sworne, I thinke that he is honest

Oth. I thinke so too

Iago. Men should be what they seeme, Or those that be not, would they might seeme none

Oth. Certaine, men should be what they seeme

Iago. Why then I thinke Cassio's an honest man

Oth. Nay, yet there's more in this? I prythee speake to me, as to thy thinkings, As thou dost ruminate, and giue thy worst of thoughts The worst of words

Iago. Good my Lord pardon me, Though I am bound to euery Acte of dutie, I am not bound to that: All Slaues are free: Vtter my Thoughts? Why say, they are vild, and falce? As where's that Palace, whereinto foule things Sometimes intrude not? Who ha's that breast so pure, Wherein vncleanly Apprehensions Keepe Leetes, and Law-dayes, and in Sessions sit With meditations lawfull? Oth. Thou do'st conspire against thy Friend (Iago) If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his eare A stranger to thy Thoughts

Iago. I do beseech you, Though I perchance am vicious in my guesse (As I confesse it is my Natures plague To spy into Abuses, and of my iealousie Shapes faults that are not) that your wisedome From one, that so imperfectly conceits, Would take no notice, nor build your selfe a trouble Out of his scattering, and vnsure obseruance: It were not for your quiet, nor your good, Nor for my Manhood, Honesty, and Wisedome, To let you know my thoughts

Oth. What dost thou meane? Iago. Good name in Man, & woman (deere my Lord) Is the immediate Iewell of their Soules; Who steales my purse, steales trash: 'Tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has bin slaue to thousands: But he that filches from me my good Name, Robs me of that, which not enriches him, And makes me poore indeed

Oth. Ile know thy Thoughts

Iago. You cannot, if my heart were in your hand, Nor shall not, whil'st 'tis in my custodie

Oth. Ha? Iago. Oh, beware my Lord, of iealousie, It is the greene-ey'd Monster, which doth mocke The meate it feeds on. That Cuckold liues in blisse, Who certaine of his Fate, loues not his wronger: But oh, what damned minutes tels he ore, Who dotes, yet doubts: Suspects, yet soundly loues? Oth. O miserie

Iago. Poore, and Content, is rich, and rich enough, But Riches finelesse, is as poore as Winter, To him that euer feares he shall be poore: Good Heauen, the Soules of all my Tribe defend From Iealousie

Oth. Why? why is this? Think'st thou, I'ld make a Life of Iealousie; To follow still the changes of the Moone With fresh suspitions? No: to be once in doubt, Is to be resolu'd: Exchange me for a Goat, When I shall turne the businesse of my Soule To such exufflicate, and blow'd Surmises, Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me Iealious, To say my wife is faire, feeds well, loues company, Is free of Speech, Sings, Playes, and Dances: Where Vertue is, these are more vertuous. Nor from mine owne weake merites, will I draw The smallest feare, or doubt of her reuolt, For she had eyes, and chose me. No Iago, Ile see before I doubt; when I doubt, proue; And on the proofe, there is no more but this, Away at once with Loue, or Iealousie

Ia. I am glad of this: For now I shall haue reason To shew the Loue and Duty that I beare you With franker spirit. Therefore (as I am bound) Receiue it from me. I speake not yet of proofe: Looke to your wife, obserue her well with Cassio, Weare your eyes, thus: not Iealious, nor Secure: I would not haue your free, and Noble Nature, Out of selfe-Bounty, be abus'd: Looke too't: I know our Country disposition well: In Venice, they do let Heauen see the prankes They dare not shew their Husbands. Their best Conscience, Is not to leaue't vndone, but kept vnknowne

Oth. Dost thou say so? Iago. She did deceiue her Father, marrying you, And when she seem'd to shake, and feare your lookes, She lou'd them most

Oth. And so she did

Iago. Why go too then: Shee that so young could giue out such a Seeming To seele her Fathers eyes vp, close as Oake, He thought 'twas Witchcraft. But I am much too blame: I humbly do beseech you of your pardon For too much louing you

Oth. I am bound to thee for euer

Iago. I see this hath a little dash'd your Spirits: Oth. Not a iot, not a iot

Iago. Trust me, I feare it has: I hope you will consider what is spoke Comes from your Loue. But I do see y'are moou'd: I am to pray you, not to straine my speech To grosser issues, nor to larger reach, Then to Suspition

Oth. I will not

Iago. Should you do so (my Lord) My speech should fall into such vilde successe, Which my Thoughts aym'd not. Cassio's my worthy Friend: My Lord, I see y'are mou'd

Oth. No, not much mou'd: I do not thinke but Desdemona's honest

Iago. Long liue she so; And long liue you to thinke so

Oth. And yet how Nature erring from it selfe

Iago. I, there's the point: As (to be bold with you) Not to affect many proposed Matches Of her owne Clime, Complexion, and Degree, Whereto we see in all things, Nature tends: Foh, one may smel in such, a will most ranke, Foule disproportions, Thoughts vnnaturall. But (pardon me) I do not in position Distinctly speake of her, though I may feare Her will, recoyling to her better iudgement, May fal to match you with her Country formes, And happily repent

Oth. Farewell, farewell: If more thou dost perceiue, let me know more: Set on thy wife to obserue. Leaue me Iago

Iago. My Lord, I take my leaue

Othel. Why did I marry? This honest Creature (doubtlesse) Sees, and knowes more, much more then he vnfolds

Iago. My Lord, I would I might intreat your Honor To scan this thing no farther: Leaue it to time, Although 'tis fit that Cassio haue his Place; For sure he filles it vp with great Ability; Yet if you please, to him off a-while: You shall by that perceiue him, and his meanes: Note if your Lady straine his Entertainment With any strong, or vehement importunitie, Much will be seene in that: In the meane time, Let me be thought too busie in my feares, (As worthy cause I haue to feare I am) And hold her free, I do beseech your Honor

Oth. Feare not my gouernment

Iago. I once more take my leaue. Enter.

Oth. This Fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knowes all Quantities with a learn'd Spirit Of humane dealings. If I do proue her Haggard, Though that her Iesses were my deere heart-strings, I'ld whistle her off, and let her downe the winde To prey at Fortune. Haply, for I am blacke, And haue not those soft parts of Conuersation That Chamberers haue: Or for I am declin'd Into the vale of yeares (yet that's not much) Shee's gone. I am abus'd, and my releefe Must be to loath her. Oh Curse of Marriage! That we can call these delicate Creatures ours, And not their Appetites? I had rather be a Toad, And liue vpon the vapour of a Dungeon, Then keepe a corner in the thing I loue For others vses. Yet 'tis the plague to Great-ones, Prerogatiu'd are they lesse then the Base, 'Tis destiny vnshunnable, like death: Euen then, this forked plague is Fated to vs, When we do quicken. Looke where she comes: Enter Desdemona and aemilia.

If she be false, Heauen mock'd it selfe: Ile not beleeue't

Des. How now, my deere Othello? Your dinner, and the generous Islanders By you inuited, do attend your presence

Oth. I am too blame

Des. Why do you speake so faintly? Are you not well? Oth. I haue a paine vpon my Forehead, heere

Des. Why that's with watching, 'twill away againe. Let me but binde it hard, within this houre It will be well

Oth. Your Napkin is too little: Let it alone: Come, Ile go in with you. Enter.

Des. I am very sorry that you are not well. Aemil. I am glad I haue found this Napkin: This was her first remembrance from the Moore, My wayward Husband hath a hundred times Woo'd me to steale it. But she so loues the Token, (For he coniur'd her, she should euer keepe it) That she reserues it euermore about her, To kisse, and talke too. Ile haue the worke tane out, And giu't Iago: what he will do with it Heauen knowes, not I: I nothing, but to please his Fantasie. Enter Iago.

Iago. How now? What do you heere alone? Aemil. Do not you chide: I haue a thing for you

Iago. You haue a thing for me? It is a common thing- Aemil. Hah? Iago. To haue a foolish wife. Aemil. Oh, is that all? What will you giue me now For that same Handkerchiefe

Iago. What Handkerchiefe? Aemil. What Handkerchiefe? Why that the Moore first gaue to Desdemona, That which so often you did bid me steale

Iago. Hast stolne it from her? Aemil. No: but she let it drop by negligence, And to th' aduantage, I being heere, took't vp: Looke, heere 'tis

Iago. A good wench, giue it me. Aemil. What will you do with't, that you haue bene so earnest to haue me filch it? Iago. Why, what is that to you? Aemil. If it be not for some purpose of import, Giu't me againe. Poore Lady, shee'l run mad When she shall lacke it

Iago. Be not acknowne on't: I haue vse for it. Go, leaue me.

Exit aemil.

I will in Cassio's Lodging loose this Napkin, And let him finde it. Trifles light as ayre, Are to the iealious, confirmations strong, As proofes of holy Writ. This may do something. The Moore already changes with my poyson: Dangerous conceites, are in their Natures poysons, Which at the first are scarse found to distaste: But with a little acte vpon the blood, Burne like the Mines of Sulphure. I did say so. Enter Othello.

Looke where he comes: Not Poppy, nor Mandragora, Nor all the drowsie Syrrups of the world Shall euer medicine thee to that sweete sleepe Which thou owd'st yesterday

Oth. Ha, ha, false to mee? Iago. Why how now Generall? No more of that

Oth. Auant, be gone: Thou hast set me on the Racke: I sweare 'tis better to be much abus'd, Then but to know't a little

Iago. How now, my Lord? Oth. What sense had I, in her stolne houres of Lust? I saw't not, thought it not: it harm'd not me: I slept the next night well, fed well, was free, and merrie. I found not Cassio's kisses on her Lippes: He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolne, Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all

Iago. I am sorry to heare this? Oth. I had beene happy, if the generall Campe, Pyoners and all, had tasted her sweet Body, So I had nothing knowne. Oh now, for euer Farewell the Tranquill minde; farewell Content; Farewell the plumed Troopes, and the bigge Warres, That makes Ambition, Vertue! Oh farewell, Farewell the neighing Steed, and the shrill Trumpe, The Spirit-stirring Drum, th' Eare-piercing Fife, The Royall Banner, and all Qualitie, Pride, Pompe, and Circumstance of glorious Warre: And O you mortall Engines, whose rude throates Th' immortall Ioues dread Clamours, counterfet, Farewell: Othello's Occupation's gone

Iago. Is't possible my Lord? Oth. Villaine, be sure thou proue my Loue a Whore; Be sure of it: Giue me the Occular proofe, Or by the worth of mine eternall Soule, Thou had'st bin better haue bin borne a Dog Then answer my wak'd wrath

Iago. Is't come to this? Oth. Make me to see't: or (at the least) so proue it, That the probation beare no Hindge, nor Loope, To hang a doubt on: Or woe vpon thy life

Iago. My Noble Lord

Oth. If thou dost slander her, and torture me, Neuer pray more: Abandon all remorse On Horrors head, Horrors accumulate: Do deeds to make Heauen weepe, all Earth amaz'd; For nothing canst thou to damnation adde, Greater then that

Iago. O Grace! O Heauen forgiue me! Are you a Man? Haue you a Soule? or Sense? God buy you: take mine Office. Oh wretched Foole, That lou'st to make thine Honesty, a Vice! Oh monstrous world! Take note, take note (O World) To be direct and honest, is not safe. I thanke you for this profit, and from hence Ile loue no Friend, sith Loue breeds such offence

Oth. Nay stay: thou should'st be honest

Iago. I should be wise; for Honestie's a Foole, And looses that it workes for

Oth. By the World, I thinke my Wife be honest, and thinke she is not: I thinke that thou art iust, and thinke thou art not: Ile haue some proofe. My name that was as fresh As Dians Visage, is now begrim'd and blacke As mine owne face. If there be Cords, or Kniues, Poyson, or Fire, or suffocating streames, Ile not indure it. Would I were satisfied

Iago. I see you are eaten vp with Passion: I do repent me, that I put it to you. You would be satisfied? Oth. Would? Nay, and I will

Iago. And may: but how? How satisfied, my Lord? Would you the super-vision grossely gape on? Behold her top'd? Oth. Death, and damnation. Oh! Iago. It were a tedious difficulty, I thinke, To bring them to that Prospect: Damne them then, If euer mortall eyes do see them boulster More then their owne. What then? How then? What shall I say? Where's Satisfaction? It is impossible you should see this, Were they as prime as Goates, as hot as Monkeyes, As salt as Wolues in pride, and Fooles as grosse As Ignorance, made drunke. But yet, I say, If imputation, and strong circumstances, Which leade directly to the doore of Truth, Will giue you satisfaction, you might haue't

Oth. Giue me a liuing reason she's disloyall

Iago. I do not like the Office. But sith I am entred in this cause so farre (Prick'd too't by foolish Honesty, and Loue) I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately, And being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleepe. There are a kinde of men, So loose of Soule, that in their sleepes will mutter Their Affayres: one of this kinde is Cassio: In sleepe I heard him say, sweet Desdemona, Let vs be wary, let vs hide our Loues, And then (Sir) would he gripe, and wring my hand: Cry, oh sweet Creature: then kisse me hard, As if he pluckt vp kisses by the rootes, That grew vpon my lippes, laid his Leg ore my Thigh, And sigh, and kisse, and then cry cursed Fate, That gaue thee to the Moore

Oth. O monstrous! monstrous! Iago. Nay, this was but his Dreame

Oth. But this denoted a fore-gone conclusion, 'Tis a shrew'd doubt, though it be but a Dreame

Iago. And this may helpe to thicken other proofes, That do demonstrate thinly

Oth. Ile teare her all to peeces

Iago. Nay yet be wise; yet we see nothing done, She may be honest yet: Tell me but this, Haue you not sometimes seene a Handkerchiefe Spotted with Strawberries, in your wiues hand? Oth. I gaue her such a one: 'twas my first gift

Iago. I know not that: but such a Handkerchiefe (I am sure it was your wiues) did I to day See Cassio wipe his Beard with

Oth. If it be that

Iago. If it be that, or any, it was here. It speakes against her with the other proofes

Othel. O that the Slaue had forty thousand liues: One is too poore, too weake for my reuenge. Now do I see 'tis true. Looke heere Iago, All my fond loue thus do I blow to Heauen. 'Tis gone. Arise blacke vengeance, from the hollow hell, Yeeld vp (O Loue) thy Crowne, and hearted Throne To tyrannous Hate. Swell bosome with thy fraught, For 'tis of Aspickes tongues

Iago. Yet be content

Oth. Oh blood, blood, blood

Iago. Patience I say: your minde may change

Oth. Neuer Iago. Like to the Ponticke Sea, Whose Icie Current, and compulsiue course, Neu'r keepes retyring ebbe, but keepes due on To the Proponticke, and the Hellespont: Euen so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace Shall neu'r looke backe, neu'r ebbe to humble Loue, Till that a capeable, and wide Reuenge Swallow them vp. Now by yond Marble Heauen, In the due reuerence of a Sacred vow, I heere engage my words

Iago. Do not rise yet: Witnesse you euer-burning Lights aboue, You Elements, that clip vs round about, Witnesse that heere Iago doth giue vp The execution of his wit, hands, heart, To wrong'd Othello's Seruice. Let him command, And to obey shall be in me remorse, What bloody businesse euer

Oth. I greet thy loue, Not with vaine thanks, but with acceptance bounteous, And will vpon the instant put thee too't. Within these three dayes let me heare thee say, That Cassio's not aliue

Iago. My Friend is dead: 'Tis done at your Request. But let her liue

Oth. Damne her lewde Minx: O damne her, damne her. Come go with me a-part, I will withdraw To furnish me with some swift meanes of death For the faire Diuell. Now art thou my Lieutenant

Iago. I am your owne for euer.

Exeunt.

Scaena Quarta.

Enter Desdemona, aemilia, and Clown.

Des. Do you know Sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lyes? Clow. I dare not say he lies any where

Des. Why man? Clo. He's a Soldier, and for me to say a Souldier lyes, 'tis stabbing

Des. Go too: where lodges he? Clo. To tell you where he lodges, is to tel you where I lye

Des. Can any thing be made of this? Clo. I know not where he lodges, and for mee to deuise a lodging, and say he lies heere, or he lies there, were to lye in mine owne throat

Des. Can you enquire him out? and be edified by report? Clo. I will Catechize the world for him, that is, make Questions, and by them answer

Des. Seeke him, bidde him come hither: tell him, I haue moou'd my Lord on his behalfe, and hope all will be well

Clo. To do this, is within the compasse of mans Wit, and therefore I will attempt the doing it.

Exit Clo.

Des. Where should I loose the Handkerchiefe, aemilia? Aemil. I know not Madam

Des. Beleeue me, I had rather haue lost my purse Full of Cruzadoes. And but my Noble Moore Is true of minde, and made of no such basenesse, As iealious Creatures are, it were enough To put him to ill-thinking. Aemil. Is he not iealious? Des. Who, he? I thinke the Sun where he was borne, Drew all such humors from him. Aemil. Looke where he comes. Enter Othello.

Des. I will not leaue him now, till Cassio be Call'd to him. How is't with you, my Lord? Oth. Well my good Lady. Oh hardnes to dissemble! How do you, Desdemona? Des. Well, my good Lord

Oth. Giue me your hand. This hand is moist, my Lady

Des. It hath felt no age, nor knowne no sorrow

Oth. This argues fruitfulnesse, and liberall heart: Hot, hot, and moyst. This hand of yours requires A sequester from Liberty: Fasting, and Prayer, Much Castigation, Exercise deuout, For heere's a yong, and sweating Diuell heere That commonly rebels: 'Tis a good hand, A franke one

Des. You may (indeed) say so: For 'twas that hand that gaue away my heart

Oth. A liberall hand. The hearts of old, gaue hands: But our new Heraldry is hands, not hearts

Des. I cannot speake of this: Come, now your promise

Oth. What promise, Chucke? Des. I haue sent to bid Cassio come speake with you

Oth. I haue a salt and sorry Rhewme offends me: Lend me thy Handkerchiefe

Des. Heere my Lord

Oth. That which I gaue you

Des. I haue it not about me

Oth. Not? Des. No indeed, my Lord

Oth. That's a fault: That Handkerchiefe Did an aegyptian to my Mother giue: She was a Charmer, and could almost read The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it, 'T would make her Amiable, and subdue my Father Intirely to her loue: But if she lost it, Or made a Guift of it, my Fathers eye Should hold her loathed, and his Spirits should hunt After new Fancies. She dying, gaue it me, And bid me (when my Fate would haue me Wiu'd) To giue it her. I did so; and take heede on't, Make it a Darling, like your precious eye: To loose't, or giue't away, were such perdition, As nothing else could match

Des. Is't possible? Oth. 'Tis true: There's Magicke in the web of it: A Sybill that had numbred in the world The Sun to course, two hundred compasses, In her Prophetticke furie sow'd the Worke: The Wormes were hallowed, that did breede the Silke, And it was dyde in Mummey, which the Skilfull Conseru'd of Maidens hearts

Des. Indeed? Is't true? Oth. Most veritable, therefore looke too't well

Des. Then would to Heauen, that I had neuer seene't? Oth. Ha? wherefore? Des. Why do you speake so startingly, and rash? Oth. Is't lost? Is't gon? Speak, is't out o'th' way? Des. Blesse vs

Oth. Say you? Des. It is not lost: but what and if it were? Oth. How? Des. I say it is not lost

Oth. Fetcht, let me see't

Des. Why so I can: but I will not now: This is a tricke to put me from my suite, Pray you let Cassio be receiu'd againe

Oth. Fetch me the Handkerchiefe, My minde mis-giues

Des. Come, come: you'l neuer meete a more sufficient man

Oth. The Handkerchiefe

Des. A man that all his time Hath founded his good Fortunes on your loue; Shar'd dangers with you

Oth. The Handkerchiefe

Des. Insooth, you are too blame

Oth. Away.

Exit Othello.

Aemil. Is not this man iealious? Des. I neu'r saw this before. Sure, there's some wonder in this Handkerchiefe, I am most vnhappy in the losse of it. Aemil. 'Tis not a yeare or two shewes vs a man: They are all but Stomackes, and we all but Food, They eate vs hungerly, and when they are full They belch vs. Enter Iago, and Cassio.

Looke you, Cassio and my Husband

Iago. There is no other way: 'tis she must doo't: And loe the happinesse: go, and importune her

Des. How now (good Cassio) what's the newes with you? Cassio. Madam, my former suite. I do beseech you, That by your vertuous meanes, I may againe Exist, and be a member of his loue, Whom I, with all the Office of my heart Intirely honour, I would not be delayd. If my offence, be of such mortall kinde, That nor my Seruice past, nor present Sorrowes, Nor purpos'd merit in futurity, Can ransome me into his loue againe, But to know so, must be my benefit: So shall I cloath me in a forc'd content, And shut my selfe vp in some other course To Fortunes Almes

Des. Alas (thrice-gentle Cassio) My Aduocation is not now in Tune; My Lord, is not my Lord; nor should I know him, Were he in Fauour, as in Humour alter'd. So helpe me euery spirit sanctified, As I haue spoken for you all my best, And stood within the blanke of his displeasure For my free speech. You must awhile be patient: What I can do, I will: and more I will Then for my selfe, I dare. Let that suffice you

Iago. Is my Lord angry? Aemil. He went hence but now: And certainly in strange vnquietnesse

Iago. Can he be angry? I haue seen the Cannon When it hath blowne his Rankes into the Ayre, And like the Diuell from his very Arme Puff't his owne Brother: And is he angry? Something of moment then: I will go meet him, There's matter in't indeed, if he be angry.

Exit

Des. I prythee do so. Something sure of State, Either from Venice, or some vnhatch'd practise Made demonstrable heere in Cyprus, to him, Hath pudled his cleare Spirit: and in such cases, Mens Natures wrangle with inferiour things, Though great ones are their obiect. 'Tis euen so. For let our finger ake, and it endues Our other healthfull members, euen to a sense Of paine. Nay, we must thinke men are not Gods, Nor of them looke for such obseruancie As fits the Bridall. Beshrew me much, aemilia, I was (vnhandsome Warrior, as I am) Arraigning his vnkindnesse with my soule: But now I finde, I had suborn'd the Witnesse, And he's Indited falsely. Aemil. Pray heauen it bee State matters, as you thinke, and no Conception, Nor no Iealious Toy, concerning you

Des. Alas the day, I neuer gaue him cause. Aemil. But Iealious soules will not be answer'd so; They are not euer iealious for the cause, But iealious, for they're iealious. It is a Monster Begot vpon it selfe, borne on it selfe

Des. Heauen keepe the Monster from Othello's mind. Aemil. Lady, Amen

Des. I will go seeke him. Cassio, walke heere about: If I doe finde him fit, Ile moue your suite, And seeke to effect it to my vttermost.

Exit

Cas. I humbly thanke your Ladyship. Enter Bianca.

Bian. 'Saue you (Friend Cassio.) Cassio. What make you from home? How is't with you, my most faire Bianca? Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Cassio. What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights? Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres More tedious then the Diall, eight score times? Oh weary reck'ning

Cassio. Pardon me, Bianca: I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest, But I shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca Take me this worke out

Bianca. Oh Cassio, whence came this? This is some Token from a newer Friend, To the felt-Absence: now I feele a Cause: Is't come to this? Well, well

Cassio. Go too, woman: Throw your vilde gesses in the Diuels teeth, From whence you haue them. You are iealious now, That this is from some Mistris, some remembrance; No, in good troth Bianca

Bian. Why, who's is it? Cassio. I know not neither: I found it in my Chamber, I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded (As like enough it will) I would haue it coppied: Take it, and doo't, and leaue me for this time

Bian. Leaue you? Wherefore? Cassio. I do attend heere on the Generall, And thinke it no addition, nor my wish To haue him see me woman'd

Bian. Why, I pray you? Cassio. Not that I loue you not

Bian. But that you do not loue me. I pray you bring me on the way a little, And say, if I shall see you soone at night? Cassio. 'Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend heere: But Ile see you soone

Bian. 'Tis very good: I must be circumstanc'd.

Exeunt. omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Othello, and Iago.

Iago. Will you thinke so? Oth. Thinke so, Iago? Iago. What, to kisse in priuate? Oth. An vnauthoriz'd kisse? Iago. Or to be naked with her Friend in bed, An houre, or more, not meaning any harme? Oth. Naked in bed (Iago) and not meane harme? It is hypocrisie against the Diuell: They that meane vertuously, and yet do so, The Diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt Heauen

Iago. If they do nothing, 'tis a Veniall slip: But if I giue my wife a Handkerchiefe

Oth. What then? Iago. Why then 'tis hers (my Lord) and being hers, She may (I thinke) bestow't on any man

Oth. She is Protectresse of her honor too: May she giue that? Iago. Her honor is an Essence that's not seene, They haue it very oft, that haue it not. But for the Handkerchiefe

Othe. By heauen, I would most gladly haue forgot it: Thou saidst (oh, it comes ore my memorie, As doth the Rauen o're the infectious house: Boading to all) he had my Handkerchiefe

Iago . I: what of that? Othe. That's not so good now

Iag. What if I had said, I had seene him do you wrong? Or heard him say (as Knaues be such abroad, Who hauing by their owne importunate suit, Or voluntary dotage of some Mistris, Conuinced or supply'd them, cannot chuse But they must blab.) Oth. Hath he said any thing? Iago. He hath (my Lord) but be you well assur'd, No more then he'le vn-sweare

Oth. What hath he said? Iago. Why, that he did: I know not what he did

Othe. What? What? Iago. Lye

Oth. With her? Iago. With her? On her: what you will

Othe. Lye with her? lye on her? We say lye on her, when they be-lye-her. Lye with her: that's fullsome: Handkerchiefe: Confessions: Handkerchiefe. To confesse, and be hang'd for his labour. First, to be hang'd, and then to confesse: I tremble at it. Nature would not inuest her selfe in such shadowing passion, without some Instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus, (pish) Noses, Eares, and Lippes: is't possible. Confesse? Handkerchiefe? O diuell.

Falls in a Traunce.

Iago. Worke on, My Medicine workes. Thus credulous Fooles are caught, And many worthy, and chast Dames euen thus, (All guiltlesse) meete reproach: what hoa? My Lord? My Lord, I say: Othello. Enter Cassio.

How now Cassio? Cas. What's the matter? Iago. My Lord is falne into an Epilepsie, This is his second Fit: he had one yesterday

Cas. Rub him about the Temples

Iago. The Lethargie must haue his quyet course: If not, he foames at mouth: and by and by Breakes out to sauage madnesse. Looke, he stirres: Do you withdraw your selfe a little while, He will recouer straight: when he is gone, I would on great occasion, speake with you. How is it Generall? Haue you not hurt your head? Othe. Dost thou mocke me? Iago. I mocke you not, by Heauen: Would you would beare your Fortune like a Man

Othe. A Horned man's a Monster, and a Beast

Iago. Ther's many a Beast then in a populous Citty, And many a ciuill Monster

Othe. Did he confesse it? Iago. Good Sir, be a man: Thinke euery bearded fellow that's but yoak'd May draw with you. There's Millions now aliue, That nightly lye in those vnproper beds, Which they dare sweare peculiar. Your case is better. Oh, 'tis the spight of hell, the Fiends Arch-mock, To lip a wanton in a secure Cowch; And to suppose her chast. No, let me know, And knowing what I am, I know what she shallbe

Oth. Oh, thou art wise: 'tis certaine

Iago. Stand you a while apart, Confine your selfe but in a patient List, Whil'st you were heere, o're-whelmed with your griefe (A passion most resulting such a man) Cassio came hither: I shifted him away, And layd good scuses vpon your Extasie, Bad him anon returne: and heere speake with me, The which he promis'd. Do but encaue your selfe, And marke the Fleeres, the Gybes, and notable Scornes That dwell in euery Region of his face. For I will make him tell the Tale anew; Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when He hath, and is againe to cope your wife. I say, but marke his gesture: marry Patience, Or I shall say y'are all in all in Spleene, And nothing of a man

Othe. Do'st thou heare, Iago, I will be found most cunning in my Patience: But (do'st thou heare) most bloody

Iago. That's not amisse, But yet keepe time in all: will you withdraw? Now will I question Cassio of Bianca, A Huswife that by selling her desires Buyes her selfe Bread, and Cloath. It is a Creature That dotes on Cassio, (as 'tis the Strumpets plague To be-guile many, and be be-guil'd by one) He, when he heares of her, cannot restraine From the excesse of Laughter. Heere he comes. Enter Cassio.

As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad: And his vnbookish Ielousie must conserue Poore Cassio's smiles, gestures, and light behauiours Quite in the wrong. How do you Lieutenant? Cas. The worser, that you giue me the addition, Whose want euen killes me

Iago. Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure on't: Now, if this Suit lay in Bianca's dowre, How quickely should you speed? Cas. Alas poore Caitiffe

Oth. Looke how he laughes already

Iago. I neuer knew woman loue man so

Cas. Alas poore Rogue, I thinke indeed she loues me

Oth. Now he denies it faintly: and laughes it out

Iago. Do you heare Cassio? Oth. Now he importunes him To tell it o're: go too, well said, well said

Iago. She giues it out, that you shall marry her. Do you intend it? Cas. Ha, ha, ha

Oth. Do ye triumph, Romaine? do you triumph? Cas. I marry. What? A customer; prythee beare Some Charitie to my wit, do not thinke it So vnwholesome. Ha, ha, ha

Oth. So, so, so, so: they laugh, that winnes

Iago. Why the cry goes, that you marry her

Cas. Prythee say true

Iago. I am a very Villaine else

Oth. Haue you scoar'd me? Well

Cas. This is the Monkeys owne giuing out: She is perswaded I will marry her Out of her owne loue & flattery, not out of my promise

Oth. Iago becomes me: now he begins the story

Cassio. She was heere euen now: she haunts me in euery place. I was the other day talking on the Seabanke with certaine Venetians, and thither comes the Bauble, and falls me thus about my neck

Oth. Crying oh deere Cassio, as it were: his iesture imports it

Cassio. So hangs, and lolls, and weepes vpon me: So shakes, and pulls me. Ha, ha, ha

Oth. Now he tells how she pluckt him to my Chamber: oh, I see that nose of yours, but not that dogge, I shall throw it to

Cassio. Well, I must leaue her companie

Iago. Before me: looke where she comes. Enter Bianca.

Cas. 'Tis such another Fitchew: marry a perfum'd one? What do you meane by this haunting of me? Bian. Let the diuell, and his dam haunt you: what did you meane by that same Handkerchiefe, you gaue me euen now? I was a fine Foole to take it: I must take out the worke? A likely piece of worke, that you should finde it in your Chamber, and know not who left it there. This is some Minxes token, & I must take out the worke? There, giue it your Hobbey-horse, wheresoeuer you had it, Ile take out no worke on't

Cassio. How now, my sweete Bianca? How now? How now? Othe. By Heauen, that should be my Handkerchiefe

Bian. If you'le come to supper to night you may, if you will not come when you are next prepar'd for.

Exit

Iago. After her: after her

Cas. I must, shee'l rayle in the streets else

Iago. Will you sup there? Cassio. Yes, I intend so

Iago. Well, I may chance to see you: for I would very faine speake with you

Cas. Prythee come: will you? Iago. Go too; say no more

Oth. How shall I murther him, Iago

Iago. Did you perceiue how he laugh'd at his vice? Oth. Oh, Iago

Iago. And did you see the Handkerchiefe? Oth. Was that mine? Iago. Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes the foolish woman your wife: she gaue it him and, he hath giu'n it his whore

Oth. I would haue him nine yeeres a killing: A fine woman, a faire woman, a sweete woman? Iago. Nay, you must forget that

Othello. I, let her rot and perish, and be damn'd to night, for she shall not liue. No, my heart is turn'd to stone: I strike it, and it hurts my hand. Oh, the world hath not a sweeter Creature: she might lye by an Emperours side, and command him Taskes

Iago. Nay, that's not your way

Othe. Hang her, I do but say what she is: so delicate with her Needle: an admirable Musitian. Oh she will sing the Sauagenesse out of a Beare: of so high and plenteous wit, and inuention? Iago. She's the worse for all this

Othe. Oh, a thousand, a thousand times: And then of so gentle a condition? Iago. I too gentle

Othe. Nay that's certaine: But yet the pitty of it, Iago: oh Iago, the pitty of it Iago

Iago. If you are so fond ouer her iniquitie: giue her pattent to offend, for if it touch not you, it comes neere no body

Oth. I will chop her into Messes: Cuckold me? Iago. Oh, 'tis foule in her

Oth. With mine Officer? Iago. That's fouler

Othe. Get me some poyson, Iago, this night. Ile not expostulate with her: least her body and beautie vnprouide my mind againe: this night Iago

Iago. Do it not with poyson, strangle her in her bed, Euen the bed she hath contaminated

Oth. Good, good: The Iustice of it pleases: very good

Iago. And for Cassio, let me be his vndertaker: You shall heare more by midnight. Enter Lodouico, Desdemona, and Attendants.

Othe. Excellent good: What Trumpet is that same? Iago. I warrant something from Venice, 'Tis Lodouico, this, comes from the Duke. See, your wife's with him

Lodo. Saue you worthy Generall

Othe. With all my heart Sir

Lod. The Duke, and the Senators of Venice greet you

Othe. I kisse the Instrument of their pleasures

Des. And what's the newes, good cozen Lodouico Iago. I am very glad to see you Signior: Welcome to Cyprus

Lod. I thanke you: how do's Lieutenant Cassio? Iago. Liues Sir, Des. Cozen, there's falne betweene him, & my Lord, An vnkind breach: but you shall make all well

Othe. Are you sure of that? Des. My Lord? Othe. This faile you not to do, as you will- Lod. He did not call: he's busie in the paper, Is there deuision 'twixt my Lord, and Cassio? Des. A most vnhappy one: I would do much T' attone, them, for the loue I beare to Cassio

Oth. Fire, and brimestone

Des. My Lord

Oth. Are you wise? Des. What is he angrie? Lod. May be the Letter mou'd him. For as I thinke, they do command him home, Deputing Cassio in his Gouernment

Des. Trust me, I am glad on't

Othe. Indeed? Des. My Lord? Othe. I am glad to see you mad

Des. Why, sweete Othello? Othe. Diuell

Des. I haue not deseru'd this

Lod. My Lord, this would not be beleeu'd in Venice, Though I should sweare I saw't. 'Tis very much, Make her amends: she weepes

Othe. Oh diuell, diuell: If that the Earth could teeme with womans teares, Each drop she falls, would proue a Crocodile: Out of my sight

Des. I will not stay to offend you

Lod. Truely obedient Lady: I do beseech your Lordship call her backe

Othe. Mistris

Des. My Lord

Othe. What would you with her, Sir? Lod. Who I, my Lord? Othe. I, you did wish, that I would make her turne: Sir, she can turne, and turne: and yet go on And turne againe. And she can weepe, Sir, weepe. And she's obedient: as you say obedient. Very obedient: proceed you in your teares. Concerning this Sir, (oh well-painted passion) I am commanded home: get you away: Ile send for you anon. Sir I obey the Mandate, And will returne to Venice. Hence, auaunt: Cassio shall haue my Place. And Sir, to night I do entreat, that we may sup together. You are welcome Sir to Cyprus. Goates, and Monkeys. Enter.

Lod. Is this the Noble Moore, whom our full Senate Call all in all sufficient? Is this the Nature Whom Passion could not shake? Whose solid vertue The shot of Accident, nor dart of Chance Could neither graze, nor pierce? Iago. He is much chang'd

Lod. Are his wits safe? Is he not light of Braine? Iago. He's that he is: I may not breath my censure. What he might be: if what he might, he is not, I would to heauen he were

Lod. What? Strike his wife? Iago. 'Faith that was not so well: yet would I knew That stroke would proue the worst

Lod. Is it his vse? Or did the Letters, worke vpon his blood, And new create his fault? Iago. Alas, alas: It is not honestie in me to speake What I haue seene, and knowne. You shall obserue him, And his owne courses will denote him so, That I may saue my speech: do but go after And marke how he continues

Lod. I am sorry that I am deceiu'd in him.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Othello and aemilia.

Othe. You haue seene nothing then? Aemil. Nor euer heard: nor euer did suspect

Othe. Yes, you haue seene Cassio, and she together

Aemi. But then I saw no harme: and then I heard, Each syllable that breath made vp betweene them

Othe. What? Did they neuer whisper? Aemil. Neuer my Lord

Othe. Nor send you out o'th' way? Aemil. Neuer

Othe. To fetch her Fan, her Gloues, her Mask, nor nothing? Aemil. Neuer my Lord

Othe. That's strange. Aemil. I durst (my Lord) to wager, she is honest: Lay downe my Soule at stake: If you thinke other, Remoue your thought. It doth abuse your bosome: If any wretch haue put this in your head, Let Heauen requit it with the Serpents curse, For if she be not honest, chaste, and true, There's no man happy. The purest of their Wiues Is foule as Slander

Othe. Bid her come hither: go.

Exit aemilia.

She saies enough: yet she's a simple Baud That cannot say as much. This is a subtile Whore: A Closset Locke and Key of Villanous Secrets, And yet she'le kneele, and pray: I haue seene her do't. Enter Desdemona, and aemilia.

Des. My Lord, what is your will? Othe. Pray you Chucke come hither

Des. What is your pleasure? Oth. Let me see your eyes: looke in my face

Des. What horrible Fancie's this? Othe. Some of your Function Mistris: Leaue Procreants alone, and shut the doore: Cough, or cry hem; if any body come: Your Mystery, your Mystery: May dispatch.

Exit aemi.

Des. Vpon my knee, what doth your speech import? I vnderstand a Fury in your words

Othe. Why? What art thou? Des. Your wife my Lord: your true and loyall wife

Othello. Come sweare it: damne thy selfe, least being like one of Heauen, the diuells themselues should feare to ceaze thee. Therefore be double damn'd: sweare thou art honest

Des. Heauen doth truely know it

Othe. Heauen truely knowes, that thou art false as hell

Des. To whom my Lord? With whom? How am I false? Othe. Ah Desdemon, away, away, away

Des. Alas the heauy day: why do you weepe? Am I the motiue of these teares my Lord? If happely you my Father do suspect, An Instrument of this your calling backe, Lay not your blame on me: if you haue lost him, I haue lost him too

Othe. Had it pleas'd Heauen, To try me with Affliction, had they rain'd All kind of Sores, and Shames on my bare-head: Steep'd me in pouertie to the very lippes. Giuen to Captiuitie, me, and my vtmost hopes, I should haue found in some place of my Soule A drop of patience. But alas, to make me The fixed Figure for the time of Scorne, To point his slow, and mouing finger at. Yet could I beare that too, well, very well: But there where I haue garnerd vp my heart, Where either I must liue, or beare no life, The Fountaine from the which my currant runnes, Or else dries vp: to be discarded thence, Or keepe it as a Cesterne, for foule Toades To knot and gender in. Turne thy complexion there: Patience, thou young and Rose-lip'd Cherubin, I heere looke grim as hell

Des. I hope my Noble Lord esteemes me honest

Othe. Oh I, as Sommer Flyes are in the Shambles, That quicken euen with blowing. Oh thou weed: Who art so louely faire, and smell'st so sweete, That the Sense akes at thee, Would thou had'st neuer bin borne

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin haue I committed? Othe. Was this faire Paper? This most goodly Booke Made to write Whore vpon? What commited, Committed? Oh, thou publicke Commoner, I should make very Forges of my cheekes, That would to Cynders burne vp Modestie, Did I but speake thy deedes. What commited? Heauen stoppes the Nose at it, and the Moone winks: The baudy winde that kisses all it meetes, Is hush'd within the hollow Myne of Earth And will not hear't. What commited? Des. By Heauen you do me wrong

Othe. Are not you a Strumpet? Des. No, as I am a Christian. If to preserue this vessell for my Lord, From any other foule vnlawfull touch Be not to be a Strumpet, I am none

Othe. What, not a Whore? Des. No, as I shall be sau'd

Othe. Is't possible? Des. Oh Heauen forgiue vs

Othe. I cry you mercy then. I tooke you for that cunning Whore of Venice, That married with Othello. You Mistris, Enter aemilia.

That haue the office opposite to Saint Peter, And keepes the gate of hell. You, you: I you. We haue done our course: there's money for your paines: I pray you turne the key, and keepe our counsaile. Enter.

Aemil. Alas, what do's this Gentleman conceiue? How do you Madam? how do you my good Lady? Des. Faith, halfe a sleepe

Aemi. Good Madam, What's the matter with my Lord? Des. With who? Aemil. Why, with my Lord, Madam? Des. Who is thy Lord? Aemil. He that is yours, sweet Lady

Des. I haue none: do not talke to me, aemilia, I cannot weepe: nor answeres haue I none, But what should go by water. Prythee to night, Lay on my bed my wedding sheetes, remember, And call thy husband hither. Aemil. Heere's a change indeed. Enter.

Des. 'Tis meete I should be vs'd so: very meete. How haue I bin behau'd, that he might sticke The small'st opinion on my least misvse? Enter Iago, and aemilia.

Iago. What is your pleasure Madam? How is't with you? Des. I cannot tell: those that do teach yong Babes Do it with gentle meanes, and easie taskes. He might haue chid me so; for in good faith I am a Child to chiding

Iago. What is the matter Lady? Aemil. Alas (Iago) my Lord hath so bewhor'd her, Throwne such dispight, and heauy termes vpon her That true hearts cannot beare it

Des. Am I that name, Iago? Iago. What name, (faire Lady?) Des. Such as she said my Lord did say I was. Aemil. He call'd her whore: a Begger in his drinke: Could not haue laid such termes vpon his Callet

Iago. Why did he so? Des. I do not know: I am sure I am none such

Iago. Do not weepe, do not weepe: alas the day. Aemil. Hath she forsooke so many Noble Matches? Her Father? And her Country? And her Friends? To be call'd Whore? Would it not make one weepe? Des. It is my wretched Fortune

Iago. Beshrew him for't: How comes this Tricke vpon him? Des. Nay, Heauen doth know

Aemi. I will be hang'd, if some eternall Villaine, Some busie and insinuating Rogue, Some cogging, cozening Slaue, to get some Office, Haue not deuis'd this Slander: I will be hang'd else

Iago. Fie, there is no such man: it is impossible

Des. If any such there be, Heauen pardon him. Aemil. A halter pardon him: And hell gnaw his bones. Why should he call her Whore? Who keepes her companie? What Place? What Time? What Forme? What liklyhood? The Moore's abus'd by some most villanous Knaue, Some base notorious Knaue, some scuruy Fellow. Oh Heauens, that such companions thou'd'st vnfold, And put in euery honest hand a whip To lash the Rascalls naked through the world, Euen from the East to th' West

Iago. Speake within doore. Aemil. Oh fie vpon them: some such Squire he was That turn'd your wit, the seamy-side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moore

Iago. You are a Foole: go too

Des. Alas Iago, What shall I do to win my Lord againe? Good Friend, go to him: for by this light of Heauen, I know not how I lost him. Heere I kneele: If ere my will did trespasse 'gainst his Loue, Either in discourse of thought, or actuall deed, Or that mine Eyes, mine Eares, or any Sence Delighted them: or any other Forme. Or that I do not yet, and euer did, And euer will, (though he do shake me off To beggerly diuorcement) Loue him deerely, Comfort forsweare me. Vnkindnesse may do much, And his vnkindnesse may defeat my life, But neuer taynt my Loue. I cannot say Whore, It do's abhorre me now I speake the word, To do the Act, that might the addition earne, Not the worlds Masse of vanitie could make me

Iago. I pray you be content: 'tis but his humour: The businesse of the State do's him offence

Des. If 'twere no other

Iago. It is but so, I warrant, Hearke how these Instruments summon to supper: The Messengers of Venice staies the meate, Go in, and weepe not: all things shall be well.

Exeunt. Desdemona and aemilia.

Enter Rodorigo.

How now Rodorigo? Rod. I do not finde That thou deal'st iustly with me

Iago. What in the contrarie? Rodori. Euery day thou dafts me with some deuise Iago, and rather, as it seemes to me now, keep'st from me all conueniencie, then suppliest me with the least aduantage of hope: I will indeed no longer endure it. Nor am I yet perswaded to put vp in peace, what already I haue foolishly suffred

Iago. Will you heare me Rodorigo? Rodori. I haue heard too much: and your words and Performances are no kin together

Iago. You charge me most vniustly

Rodo. With naught but truth: I haue wasted my selfe out of my meanes. The Iewels you haue had from me to deliuer Desdemona, would halfe haue corrupted a Votarist. You haue told me she hath receiu'd them, and return'd me expectations and comforts of sodaine respect, and acquaintance, but I finde none

Iago. Well, go too: very well

Rod. Very well, go too: I cannot go too, (man) nor 'tis not very well. Nay I think it is scuruy: and begin to finde my selfe fopt in it

Iago. Very well

Rodor. I tell you, 'tis not very well: I will make my selfe knowne to Desdemona. If she will returne me my Iewels, I will giue ouer my Suit, and repent my vnlawfull solicitation. If not, assure your selfe, I will seeke satisfaction of you

Iago. You haue said now

Rodo. I: and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing

Iago. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee: and euen from this instant do build on thee a better opinion then euer before: giue me thy hand Rodorigo. Thou hast taken against me a most iust exception: but yet I protest I haue dealt most directly in thy Affaire

Rod. It hath not appeer'd

Iago. I grant indeed it hath not appeer'd: and your suspition is not without wit and iudgement. But Rodorigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which I haue greater reason to beleeue now then euer (I meane purpose, Courage, and Valour) this night shew it. If thou the next night following enioy not Desdemona, take me from this world with Treacherie, and deuise Engines for my life

Rod. Well: what is it? Is it within, reason and compasse? Iago. Sir, there is especiall Commission come from Venice to depute Cassio in Othello's place

Rod. Is that true? Why then Othello and Desdemona returne againe to Venice

Iago. Oh no: he goes into Mauritania and taketh away with him the faire Desdemona, vnlesse his abode be lingred heere by some accident. Wherein none can be so determinate, as the remouing of Cassio

Rod. How do you meane remouing him? Iago. Why, by making him vncapable of Othello's place: knocking out his braines

Rod. And that you would haue me to do

Iago. I: if you dare do your selfe a profit, and a right. He sups to night with a Harlotry: and thither will I go to him. He knowes not yet of his Honourable Fortune, if you will watch his going thence (which I will fashion to fall out betweene twelue and one) you may take him at your pleasure. I will be neere to second your Attempt, and he shall fall betweene vs. Come, stand not amaz'd at it, but go along with me: I will shew you such a necessitie in his death, that you shall thinke your selfe bound to put it on him. It is now high supper time: and the night growes to wast. About it

Rod. I will heare further reason for this

Iago. And you shalbe satisfi'd.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Othello, Lodouico, Desdemona, aemilia, and Atendants.

Lod. I do beseech you Sir, trouble your selfe no further

Oth. Oh pardon me: 'twill do me good to walke

Lodoui. Madam, good night: I humbly thanke your Ladyship

Des. Your Honour is most welcome

Oth. Will you walke Sir? Oh Desdemona

Des. My Lord

Othello. Get you to bed on th' instant, I will be return'd forthwith: dismisse your Attendant there: look't be done. Enter.

Des. I will my Lord

Aem. How goes it now? He lookes gentler then he did

Des. He saies he will returne incontinent, And hath commanded me to go to bed, And bid me to dismisse you

Aemi. Dismisse me? Des. It was his bidding: therefore good aemilia, Giue me my nightly wearing, and adieu. We must not now displease him. Aemil. I, would you had neuer seene him

Des. So would not I: my loue doth so approue him, That euen his stubbornesse, his checks, his frownes, (Prythee vn-pin me) haue grace and fauour

Aemi. I haue laid those Sheetes you bad me on the bed

Des. All's one: good Father, how foolish are our minds? If I do die before, prythee shrow'd me In one of these same Sheetes. Aemil. Come, come: you talke

Des. My Mother had a Maid call'd Barbarie, She was in loue: and he she lou'd prou'd mad, And did forsake her. She had a Song of Willough, An old thing 'twas: but it express'd her Fortune, And she dy'd singing it. That Song to night, Will not go from my mind: I haue much to do, But to go hang my head all at one side And sing it like poore Barbarie: prythee dispatch

Aemi. Shall I go fetch your Night-gowne? Des. No, vn-pin me here, This Lodouico is a proper man. Aemil. A very handsome man

Des. He speakes well. Aemil. I know a Lady in Venice would haue walk'd barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip

Des. The poore Soule sat singing, by a Sicamour tree. Sing all a greene Willough: Her hand on her bosome her head on her knee, Sing Willough, Willough, Willough. The fresh Streames ran by her, and murmur'd her moanes Sing Willough, &c. Her salt teares fell from her, and softned the stones, Sing Willough, &c. (Lay by these) Willough, Willough. (Prythee high thee: he'le come anon) Sing all a greene Willough must be my Garland. Let no body blame him, his scorne I approue. (Nay that's not next. Harke, who is't that knocks? Aemil. It's the wind

Des. I call'd my Loue false Loue: but what said he then? Sing Willough, &c. If I court mo women, you'le couch with mo men. So get thee gone, good night: mine eyes do itch: Doth that boade weeping? Aemil. 'Tis neyther heere, nor there

Des. I haue heard it said so. O these Men, these men! Do'st thou in conscience thinke (tell me aemilia) That there be women do abuse their husbands In such grosse kinde? Aemil. There be some such, no question

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for all the world? Aemil. Why, would not you? Des. No, by this Heauenly light. Aemil. Nor I neither, by this Heauenly light: I might doo't as well i'th' darke

Des. Would'st thou do such a deed for al the world? Aemil. The world's a huge thing: It is a great price, for a small vice

Des. Introth, I thinke thou would'st not. Aemil. Introth I thinke I should, and vndoo't when I had done. Marry, I would not doe such a thing for a ioynt Ring, nor for measures of Lawne, nor for Gownes, Petticoats, nor Caps, nor any petty exhibition. But for all the whole world: why, who would not make her husband a Cuckold, to make him a Monarch? I should venture Purgatory for't

Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong For the whole world. Aemil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'th' world; and hauing the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your owne world, and you might quickly make it right

Des. I do not thinke there is any such woman. Aemil. Yes, a dozen: and as many to'th' vantage, as would store the world they plaid for. But I do thinke it is their Husbands faults If Wiues do fall: (Say, that they slacke their duties, And powre our Treasures into forraigne laps; Or else breake out in peeuish Iealousies, Throwing restraint vpon vs: Or say they strike vs, Or scant our former hauing in despight) Why we haue galles: and though we haue some Grace, Yet haue we some Reuenge. Let Husbands know, Their wiues haue sense like them: They see, and smell, And haue their Palats both for sweet, and sowre, As Husbands haue. What is it that they do, When they change vs for others? Is it Sport? I thinke it is: and doth Affection breed it? I thinke it doth. Is't Frailty that thus erres? It is so too. And haue not we Affections? Desires for Sport? and Frailty, as men haue? Then let them vse vs well: else let them know, The illes we do, their illes instruct vs so

Des. Good night, good night: Heauen me such vses send, Not to picke bad, from bad; but by bad, mend.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Iago, and Rodorigo.

Iago. Heere, stand behinde this Barke, Straight will he come: Weare thy good Rapier bare, and put it home: Quicke, quicke, feare nothing; Ile be at thy Elbow, It makes vs, or it marres vs, thinke on that, And fixe most firme thy Resolution

Rod. Be neere at hand, I may miscarry in't

Iago. Heere, at thy hand: Be bold, & take thy stand

Rod. I haue no great deuotion to the deed, And yet he hath giuen me satisfying Reasons: 'Tis but a man gone. Forth my Sword: he dies

Iago. I haue rub'd this yong Quat almost to the sense, And he growes angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio, Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, Euery way makes my gaine. Liue Rodorigo, He calles me to a restitution large Of Gold, and Iewels, that I bob'd from him, As Guifts to Desdemona. It must not be: If Cassio do remaine, He hath a dayly beauty in his life, That makes me vgly: and besides, the Moore May vnfold me to him: there stand I in much perill: No, he must dye. But so, I heard him comming. Enter Cassio.

Rod. I know his gate, 'tis he: Villaine thou dyest

Cas. That thrust had beene mine enemy indeed, But that my Coate is better then thou know'st: I will make proofe of thine

Rod. Oh, I am slaine

Cassio. I am maym'd for euer: Helpe hoa: Murther, murther. Enter Othello.

Oth. The voyce of Cassio. Iago keepes his word

Rod. O Villaine that I am

Oth. It is euen so

Cas. Oh helpe hoa: Light, a Surgeon

Oth. 'Tis he: O braue Iago, honest, and iust, That hast such Noble sense of thy Friends wrong, Thou teachest me. Minion, your deere lyes dead, And your vnblest Fate highes: Strumpet I come: For of my heart, those Charmes thine Eyes, are blotted. Thy Bed lust-stain'd, shall with Lusts blood bee spotted.

Exit Othello.

Enter Lodouico and Gratiano.

Cas. What hoa? no Watch? No passage? Murther, Murther

Gra. 'Tis some mischance, the voyce is very direfull

Cas. Oh helpe

Lodo. Hearke

Rod. Oh wretched Villaine

Lod. Two or three groane. 'Tis heauy night; These may be counterfeits: Let's think't vnsafe To come into the cry, without more helpe

Rod. Nobody come: then shall I bleed to death. Enter Iago.

Lod. Hearke

Gra. Here's one comes in his shirt, with Light, and Weapons

Iago. Who's there? Who's noyse is this that cries on murther? Lodo. We do not know

Iago. Do not you heare a cry? Cas. Heere, heere: for heauen sake helpe me

Iago. What's the matter? Gra. This is Othello's Ancient, as I take it

Lodo. The same indeede, a very valiant Fellow

Iago. What are you heere, that cry so greeuously? Cas. Iago? Oh I am spoyl'd, vndone by Villaines: Giue me some helpe

Iago. O mee, Lieutenant! What Villaines haue done this? Cas. I thinke that one of them is heereabout. And cannot make away

Iago. Oh treacherous Villaines: What are you there? Come in, and giue some helpe

Rod. O helpe me there

Cassio. That's one of them

Iago. Oh murd'rous Slaue! O Villaine! Rod. O damn'd Iago! O inhumane Dogge! Iago. Kill men i'th' darke? Where be these bloody Theeues? How silent is this Towne? Hoa, murther, murther. What may you be? Are you of good, or euill? Lod. As you shall proue vs, praise vs

Iago. Signior Lodouico? Lod. He Sir

Iago. I cry you mercy: here's Cassio hurt by Villaines

Gra. Cassio? Iago. How is't Brother? Cas. My Legge is cut in two

Iago. Marry heauen forbid: Light Gentlemen, Ile binde it with my shirt. Enter Bianca.

Bian. What is the matter hoa? Who is't that cry'd? Iago. Who is't that cry'd? Bian. Oh my deere Cassio, My sweet Cassio: Oh Cassio, Cassio, Cassio

Iago. O notable Strumpet. Cassio, may you suspect Who they should be, that haue thus mangled you? Cas. No

Gra. I am sorry to finde you thus; I haue beene to seeke you

Iago. Lend me a Garter. So: - Oh for a Chaire To beare him easily hence

Bian. Alas he faints. Oh Cassio, Cassio, Cassio

Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this Trash To be a party in this Iniurie. Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come; Lend me a Light: know we this face, or no? Alas my Friend, and my deere Countryman Rodorigo? No: Yes sure: Yes, 'tis Rodorigo

Gra. What, of Venice? Iago. Euen he Sir: Did you know him? Gra. Know him? I

Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry your gentle pardon: These bloody accidents must excuse my Manners, That so neglected you

Gra. I am glad to see you

Iago. How do you Cassio? Oh, a Chaire, a Chaire

Gra. Rodorigo? Iago. He, he, 'tis he: Oh that's well said, the Chaire. Some good man beare him carefully from hence, Ile fetch the Generall's Surgeon. For you Mistris, Saue you your labour. He that lies slaine heere (Cassio) Was my deere friend. What malice was between you

Cas. None in the world: nor do I know the man? Iago. What? looke you pale? Oh beare him o'th' Ayre. Stay you good Gentlemen. Looke you pale, Mistris? Do you perceiue the gastnesse of her eye? Nay, if you stare, we shall heare more anon. Behold her well: I pray you looke vpon her: Do you see Gentlemen? Nay, guiltinesse will speake Though tongues were out of vse. Aemil. Alas, what is the matter? What is the matter, Husband? Iago. Cassio hath heere bin set on in the darke By Rodorigo, and Fellowes that are scap'd: He's almost slaine, and Rodorigo quite dead. Aemil. Alas good Gentleman: alas good Cassio

Iago. This is the fruits of whoring. Prythe aemilia, Go know of Cassio where he supt to night. What, do you shake at that? Bian. He supt at my house, but I therefore shake not

Iago. O did he so? I charge you go with me. Aemil. Oh fie vpon thee Strumpet

Bian. I am no Strumpet, but of life as honest, As you that thus abuse me. Aemil. As I? Fie vpon thee

Iago. Kinde Gentlemen: Let's go see poore Cassio drest. Come Mistris, you must tel's another Tale. aemilia, run you to the Cittadell, And tell my Lord and Lady, what hath happ'd: Will you go on afore? This is the night That either makes me, or foredoes me quight.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Othello, and Desdemona in her bed.

Oth. It is the Cause, it is the Cause (my Soule) Let me not name it to you, you chaste Starres, It is the Cause. Yet Ile not shed her blood, Nor scarre that whiter skin of hers, then Snow, And smooth as Monumentall Alablaster: Yet she must dye, else shee'l betray more men: Put out the Light, and then put out the Light: If I quench thee, thou flaming Minister, I can againe thy former light restore, Should I repent me. But once put out thy Light, Thou cunning'st Patterne of excelling Nature, I know not where is that Promethaean heate That can thy Light re-Lume. When I haue pluck'd thy Rose, I cannot giue it vitall growth againe, It needs must wither. Ile smell thee on the Tree. Oh Balmy breath, that dost almost perswade Iustice to breake her Sword. One more, one more: Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee, And loue thee after. One more, and that's the last. So sweet, was ne're so fatall. I must weepe, But they are cruell Teares: This sorrow's heauenly, It strikes, where it doth loue. She wakes

Des. Who's there? Othello? Othel. I Desdemona

Des. Will you come to bed, my Lord? Oth. Haue you pray'd to night, Desdemon? Des. I my Lord

Oth. If you bethinke your selfe of any Crime Vnreconcil'd as yet to Heauen, and Grace, Solicite for it straight

Des. Alacke, my Lord, What may you meane by that? Oth. Well, do it, and be breefe, I will walke by: I would not kill thy vnprepared Spirit, No, Heauens fore-fend) I would not kill thy Soule

Des. Talke you of killing? Oth. I, I do

Des. Then Heauen haue mercy on mee

Oth. Amen, with all my heart

Des. If you say, I hope you will not kill me

Oth. Humh

Des. And yet I feare you: for you're fatall then When your eyes rowle so. Why I should feare, I know not, Since guiltinesse I know not: But yet I feele I feare

Oth. Thinke on thy sinnes

Des. They are Loues I beare to you

Oth. I, and for that thou dy'st

Des. That death's vnnaturall, that kils for louing. Alas, why gnaw you so your nether-lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very Frame: These are portents: but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me

Oth. Peace, and be still

Des. I will so: What's the matter? Oth. That Handkerchiefe Which I so lou'd, and gaue thee, thou gau'st to Cassio

Des. No by my Life, and Soule: send for the man, And aske him

Oth. Sweet Soule, take heed, take heed of Periury, Thou art on thy death-bed

Des. I, but not yet to dye

Oth. Presently. Therefore confesse thee freely of thy sinne: For to deny each Article with Oath, Cannot remoue, nor choake the strong Conception That I do grone withall. Thou art to dye

Des. O Heauen haue mercy on me

Oth. I say, Amen

Des. And haue you mercy too. I neuer did Offend you in my life: neuer lou'd Cassio, But with such generall warrantie of Heauen, As I might loue. I neuer gaue him Token

Oth. By Heauen I saw my Handkerchiefe in's hand. O periur'd woman, thou do'st stone my heart, And makes me call, what I intend to do, A Murther, which I thought a Sacrifice. I saw the Handkerchiefe

Des. He found it then: I neuer gaue it him: Send, for him hither: Let him confesse a truth

Oth. He hath confest

Des. What, my Lord? Oth. That he hath vs'd thee

Des. How? vnlawfully? Oth. I

Des. He will not say so

Oth. No: his mouth is stopp'd: Honest Iago hath 'tane order for't

Des. Oh, my feare interprets. What is he dead? Oth. Had all his haires bin liues, my great Reuenge Had stomacke for them all

Des. Alas, he is betray'd, and I vndone

Oth. Out Strumpet: weep'st thou for him to my face? Des. O banish me, my Lord, but kill me not

Oth. Downe Strumpet

Des. Kill me to morrow, let me liue to night

Oth. Nay, if you striue

Des. But halfe an houre

Oth. Being done, there is no pawse

Des. But while I say one prayer

Oth. It is too late.

Smothers her.

aemilia at the doore.

Aemil. My Lord, my Lord? What hoa? My Lord, my Lord

Oth. What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead? I that am cruell, am yet mercifull, I would not haue thee linger in thy paine? So, so. Aemil. within. What hoa? my Lord, my Lord? Oth. Who's there? Aemil. Oh good my Lord, I would speake a word with you

Oth. Yes: 'Tis aemilia: by and by. Shee's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speake of Cassio's death: The noise was high. Hah, no more moouing? Still as the Graue. Shall she come in? Wer't good? I thinke she stirres againe. No, what's best to do? If she come in, shee'l sure speake to my wife: My wife, my wife: what wife? I haue no wife. Oh insupportable! Oh heauy houre! Me thinkes, it should be now a huge Eclipse Of Sunne, and Moone; and that th' affrighted Globe Did yawne at Alteration. Aemil. I do beseech you That I may speake with you. Oh good my Lord

Oth. I had forgot thee: oh come in aemilia. Soft, by and by, let me the Curtaines draw. Where art thou? What's the matter with thee now? Enter aemilia.

Aemil. Oh my good Lord, yonders foule Murthers done

Oth. What? now? Aemil. But now, my Lord

Oth. It is the very error of the Moone, She comes more neerer Earth then she was wont, And makes men mad. Aemil. Cassio, my Lord, hath kill'd A young Venetian, call'd Rodorigo

Oth. Rodorigo kill'd? and Cassio kill'd? Aemil. No, Cassio is not kill'd

Oth. Not Cassio kill'd? Then Murther's out of tune, And sweet Reuenge growes harsh

Des. O falsely, falsely murder'd. Aemil. Alas! what cry is that? Oth. That? What? Aemil. Out, and alas, that was my Ladies voice. Helpe, helpe hoa, helpe. Oh Ladie speake againe, Sweet Desdemona, oh sweet Mistris, speake

Des. A guiltlesse death, I dye. Aemil. Oh who hath done this deed? Des. No body: I my selfe, farewell: Commend me to my kinde Lord: oh farewell

Oth. Why, how should she be murdred? Aemil. Alas: who knowes? Oth. You heare her say her selfe, it was not I. Aemil. She said so: I must needs report the truth

Oth. She's like a Liar gone to burning hell, 'Twas I that kill'd her. Aemil. Oh the more Angell she, and you the blacker Diuell

Oth. She turn'd to folly: and she was a whore. Aemil. Thou do'st bely her, and thou art a diuell

Oth. She was false as water. Aemil. Thou art rash as fire, to say That she was false. Oh she was heauenly true

Oth. Cassio did top her: Ask thy husband else. O, I were damn'd beneath all depth in hell: But that I did proceed vpon iust grounds To this extremity. Thy Husband knew it all. Aemil. My Husband? Oth. Thy Husband. Aemil. That she was false to Wedlocke? Oth. I, with Cassio: had she bin true, If Heauen would make me such another world, Of one entyre and perfect Chrysolite, I'ld not haue sold her for it. Aemil. My Husband? Oth. I, 'twas he that told me on her first, An honest man he is, and hates the slime That stickes on filthy deeds. Aemil. My Husband? Oth. What needs this itterance, Woman? I say, thy Husband. Aemil. Oh Mistris, Villany hath made mockes with loue: My Husband say she was false? Oth. He, Woman; I say thy Husband: Do'st vnderstand the word? My Friend, thy Husband; honest, honest Iago. Aemil. If he say so, may his pernicious Soule Rot halfe a graine a day: he lyes to'th' heart, She was too fond of her most filthy Bargaine

Oth. Hah? Aemil. Do thy worst: This deede of thine is no more worthy Heauen, Then thou was't worthy her

Oth. Peace, you were best. Aemil. Thou hast not halfe that powre to do me harm, As I haue to be hurt. Oh Gull, oh dolt, As ignorant as durt: thou hast done a deed (I care not for thy Sword) Ile make thee known, Though I lost twenty liues. Helpe, helpe, hoa, helpe: The Moore hath kill'd my Mistris. Murther, murther. Enter Montano, Gratiano, and Iago.

Mon. What is the matter? How now Generall? Aemil. Oh, are you come, Iago: you haue done well, That men must lay their Murthers on your necke

Gra. What is the matter? Aemil. Disproue this Villaine, if thou bee'st a man: He sayes, thou told'st him that his wife was false: I know thou did'st not: thou'rt not such a Villain. Speake, for my heart is full

Iago. I told him what I thought, And told no more Then what he found himselfe was apt, and true. Aemil. But did you euer tell him, She was false? Iago. I did. Aemil. You told a Lye an odious damned Lye: Vpon my Soule, a Lye; a wicked Lye. Shee false with Cassio? Did you say with Cassio? Iago. With Cassio, Mistris? Go too, charme your tongue

Emil. I will not charme my Tongue; I am bound to speake, My Mistris heere lyes murthered in her bed

All. Oh Heauens, forefend

Emil. And your reports haue set the Murder on

Othello. Nay stare not Masters, It is true indeede

Gra. 'Tis a strange Truth

Mont. O monstrous Acte

Emil. Villany, villany, villany: I thinke vpon't, I thinke: I smel't: O Villany: I thought so then: Ile kill my selfe for greefe. O villany! villany! Iago. What, are you mad? I charge you get you home

Emil. Good Gentlemen, let me haue leaue to speake: 'Tis proper I obey him; but not now: Perchance Iago, I will ne're go home

Oth. Oh, oh, oh

Emil. Nay, lay thee downe, and roare: For thou hast kill'd the sweetest innocent, That ere did lift vp eye

Oth. Oh she was fowle! I scarse did know you Vnkle, there lies your Neece, Whose breath (indeed) these hands haue newly stopp'd: I know this acte shewes horrible and grim

Gra. Poore Desdemon: I am glad thy Father's dead, Thy Match was mortall to him: and pure greefe Shore his old thred in twaine. Did he liue now, This sight would make him do a desperate turne: Yea, curse his better Angell from his side, And fall to Reprobance

Oth. 'Tis pittifull: but yet Iago knowes That she with Cassio, hath the Act of shame A thousand times committed. Cassio confest it, And she did gratifie his amorous workes With that Recognizance and pledge of Loue Which I first gaue her: I saw it in his hand: It was a Handkerchiefe, an Antique Token My Father gaue my Mother

Emil. Oh Heauen! oh heauenly Powres! Iago. Come, hold your peace

Emil. 'Twill out, 'twill out. I peace? No, I will speake as liberall as the North; Let Heauen, and Men, and Diuels, let them all, All, all, crie shame against me, yet Ile speake

Iago. Be wise, and get you home

Emil. I will not

Gra. Fye, your Sword vpon a Woman

Emil. Oh thou dull Moore, That Handkerchiefe thou speak'st of I found by Fortune, and did giue my Husband: For often, with a solemne earnestnesse, (More then indeed belong'd to such a Trifle) He begg'd of me, to steale't

Iago. Villanous Whore

Emil. She giue it Cassio? No, alas I found it, And I did giu't my Husband

Iago. Filth, thou lyest

Emil. By Heauen I do not, I do not Gentlemen: Oh murd'rous Coxcombe, what should such a Foole Do with so good a wife? Oth. Are there no stones in Heauen, But what serues for the Thunder? Precious Villaine

Gra. The woman falles: Sure he hath kill'd his Wife

Emil. I, I: oh lay me by my Mistris side

Gra. Hee's gone, but his wife's kill'd

Mon. 'Tis a notorious Villain: take you this weapon Which I haue recouer'd from the Moore: Come guard the doore without, let him not passe, But kill him rather. Ile after that same villaine, For 'tis a damned Slaue. Enter.

Oth. I am not valiant neither: But euery Punie whipster gets my Sword. But why should Honor out-liue Honesty? Let it go all. Aemil. What did thy Song boad Lady? Hearke, canst thou heare me? I will play the Swan, And dye in Musicke: Willough, Willough, Willough. Moore, she was chaste: She lou'd thee, cruell Moore, So come my Soule to blisse, as I speake true: So speaking as I thinke, alas, I dye

Oth. I haue another weapon in this Chamber, It was a Sword of Spaine, the Ice brookes temper: Oh heere it is: Vnkle I must come forth

Gra. If thou attempt it, it will cost thee deere; Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer

Oth. Looke in vpon me then, and speake with me, Or naked as I am I will assault thee

Gra. What is the matter? Othel. Behold, I haue a weapon: A better neuer did it selfe sustaine Vpon a Soldiers Thigh. I haue seene the day, That with this little Arme, and this good Sword, I haue made my way through more impediments Then twenty times your stop. But (oh vaine boast) Who can controll his Fate? 'Tis not so now. Be not affraid, though you do see me weapon'd: Heere is my iournies end, heere is my butt And verie Sea-marke of my vtmost Saile. Do you go backe dismaid? 'Tis a lost feare: Man but a Rush against Othello's brest, And he retires. Where should Othello go? Now: how dost thou looke now? Oh ill-Starr'd wench, Pale as thy Smocke: when we shall meete at compt, This looke of thine will hurle my Soule from Heauen, And Fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my Girle? Euen like thy Chastity. O cursed, cursed Slaue! Whip me ye Diuels, From the possession of this Heauenly sight: Blow me about in windes, roast me in Sulphure, Wash me in steepe-downe gulfes of Liquid fire. Oh Desdemon! dead Desdemon: dead. Oh, oh! Enter Lodouico, Cassio, Montano, and Iago, with Officers.

Lod. Where is this rash, and most vnfortunate man? Oth. That's he that was Othello: heere I am

Lod. Where is that Viper? Bring the Villaine forth

Oth. I look down towards his feet; but that's a Fable, If that thou bee'st a Diuell, I cannot kill thee

Lod. Wrench his Sword from him

Iago. I bleed Sir, but not kill'd

Othel. I am not sorry neither, Il'd haue thee liue: For in my sense, 'tis happinesse to die

Lod. Oh thou Othello, that was once so good, Falne in the practise of a cursed Slaue, What shall be saide to thee

Oth. Why any thing: An honourable Murderer, if you will: For nought I did in hate, but all in Honour

Lod. This wretch hath part confest his Villany: Did you and he consent in Cassio's death

Oth. I

Cas. Deere Generall, I neuer gaue you cause

Oth. I do beleeue it, and I aske your pardon: Will you, I pray, demand that demy-Diuell, Why he hath thus ensnar'd my Soule and Body

Iag. Demand me nothing: what you know, you know: From this time forth, I neuer will speake word

Lod. What? not to pray? Gra. Torments will ope your lips

Oth. Well, thou dost best

Lod. Sir, You shall vnderstand what hath befalne, (Which, as I thinke, you know not) heere is a Letter Found in the pocket of the slaine Rodorigo, And heere another, the one of them imports The death of Cassio, to be vndertooke By Rodorigo

Oth. O Villaine! Cassio. Most Heathenish, and most grosse

Lod. Now, heere's another discontented paper Found in his pocket too: and this it seemes Rodorigo meant t'haue sent this damned villaine: But that (belike) Iago in the interim Came in, and satisfi'd him

Oth. Oh thou pernitious Caitiffe; How came you (Cassio) by that Handkerchiefe That was my wiues? Cassio. I found it in my Chamber: And he himselfe confest it but euen now, That there he dropt it for a speciall purpose, Which wrought to his desire

Othel. O Foole, foole, foole! Cassio. There is besides, in Rodorigo's Letter, How he vpbraides Iago, that he made him Braue me vpon the Watch: whereon it came That I was cast: and euen but now he spake (After long seeming dead) Iago hurt him, Iago set him on

Lod. You must forsake this roome, and go with vs: Your Power, and your Command is taken off, And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this Slaue, If there be any cunning Crueltie, That can torment him much, and hold him long, It shall be his. You shall close Prisoner rest, Till that the Nature of your fault be knowne To the Venetian State. Come, bring away

Oth. Soft you; a word or two before you goe: I haue done the State some seruice, and they know't: No more of that. I pray you in your Letters, When you shall these vnluckie deeds relate, Speake of me, as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set downe ought in malice. Then must you speake, Of one that lou'd not wisely, but too well: Of one, not easily Iealious, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreame: Of one, whose hand (Like the base Iudean) threw a Pearle away Richer then all his Tribe: Of one, whose subdu'd Eyes, Albeit vn-vsed to the melting moode, Drops teares as fast as the Arabian Trees Their Medicinable gumme. Set you downe this: And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant, and a Turbond-Turke Beate a Venetian, and traduc'd the State, I tooke by th' throat the circumcised Dogge, And smoate him, thus

Lod. Oh bloody period

Gra. All that is spoke, is marr'd

Oth. I kist thee, ere I kill'd thee: No way but this, Killing my selfe, to dye vpon a kisse.

Dyes

Cas. This did I feare, but thought he had no weapon: For he was great of heart

Lod. Oh Sparton Dogge: More fell then Anguish, Hunger, or the Sea: Looke on the Tragicke Loading of this bed: This is thy worke: The Obiect poysons Sight, Let it be hid. Gratiano, keepe the house, And seize vpon the Fortunes of the Moore, For they succeede on you. To you, Lord Gouernor, Remaines the Censure of this hellish villaine: The Time, the Place, the Torture, oh inforce it: My selfe will straight aboord, and to the State, This heauie Act, with heauie heart relate.

Exeunt.

FINIS.

The Names of the Actors.

Othello, the Moore. Brabantio, Father to Desdemona. Cassio, an Honourable Lieutenant. Iago, a Villaine. Rodorigo, a gull'd Gentleman. Duke of Venice. Senators. Montano, Gouernour of Cyprus. Gentlemen of Cyprus. Lodouico, and Gratiano, two Noble Venetians. Saylors. Clowne. Desdemona, Wife to Othello. Aemilia, Wife to Iago. Bianca, a Curtezan.

THE TRAGEDIE OF Othello, the Moore of Venice.

The Tragedie of Anthonie, and Cleopatra

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Demetrius and Philo.

Philo. Nay, but this dotage of our Generals Ore-flowes the measure: those his goodly eyes That o're the Files and Musters of the Warre, Haue glow'd like plated Mars: Now bend, now turne The Office and Deuotion of their view Vpon a Tawny Front. His Captaines heart, Which in the scuffles of great Fights hath burst The Buckles on his brest, reneages all temper, And is become the Bellowes and the Fan To coole a Gypsies Lust.

Flourish. Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, her Ladies, the Traine, with Eunuchs fanning her.

Looke where they come: Take but good note, and you shall see in him (The triple Pillar of the world) transform'd Into a Strumpets Foole. Behold and see

Cleo. If it be Loue indeed, tell me how much

Ant. There's beggery in the loue that can be reckon'd Cleo. Ile set a bourne how farre to be belou'd

Ant. Then must thou needes finde out new Heauen, new Earth. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Newes (my good Lord) from Rome

Ant. Grates me, the summe

Cleo. Nay heare them Anthony. Fuluia perchance is angry: Or who knowes, If the scarse-bearded Caesar haue not sent His powrefull Mandate to you. Do this, or this; Take in that Kingdome, and Infranchise that: Perform't, or else we damne thee

Ant. How, my Loue? Cleo. Perchance? Nay, and most like: You must not stay heere longer, your dismission Is come from Caesar, therefore heare it Anthony, Where's Fuluias Processe? (Caesars I would say) both? Call in the Messengers: As I am Egypts Queene, Thou blushest Anthony, and that blood of thine Is Caesars homager: else so thy cheeke payes shame, When shrill-tongu'd Fuluia scolds. The Messengers

Ant. Let Rome in Tyber melt, and the wide Arch Of the raing'd Empire fall: Heere is my space, Kingdomes are clay: Our dungie earth alike Feeds Beast as Man; the Noblenesse of life Is to do thus: when such a mutuall paire, And such a twaine can doo't, in which I binde One paine of punishment, the world to weete We stand vp Peerelesse

Cleo. Excellent falshood: Why did he marry Fuluia, and not loue her? Ile seeme the Foole I am not. Anthony will be himselfe

Ant. But stirr'd by Cleopatra. Now for the loue of Loue, and her soft houres, Let's not confound the time with Conference harsh; There's not a minute of our liues should stretch Without some pleasure now. What sport to night? Cleo. Heare the Ambassadors

Ant. Fye wrangling Queene: Whom euery thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, To weepe: who euery passion fully striues To make it selfe (in Thee) faire, and admir'd. No Messenger but thine, and all alone, to night Wee'l wander through the streets, and note The qualities of people. Come my Queene, Last night you did desire it. Speake not to vs.

Exeunt. with the Traine.

Dem. Is Caesar with Anthonius priz'd so slight? Philo. Sir, sometimes when he is not Anthony, He comes too short of that great Property Which still should go with Anthony

Dem. I am full sorry, that hee approues the common Lyar, who thus speakes of him at Rome; but I will hope of better deeds to morrow. Rest you happy.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbus, Lamprius, a Southsayer, Rannius, Lucillius, Charmian, Iras, Mardian the Eunuch, and Alexas.

Char. L[ord]. Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, almost most absolute Alexas, where's the Soothsayer that you prais'd so to'th' Queene? Oh that I knewe this Husband, which you say, must change his Hornes with Garlands

Alex. Soothsayer

Sooth. Your will? Char. Is this the Man? Is't you sir that know things? Sooth. In Natures infinite booke of Secrecie, a little I can read

Alex. Shew him your hand

Enob. Bring in the Banket quickly: Wine enough, Cleopatra's health to drinke

Char. Good sir, giue me good Fortune

Sooth. I make not, but foresee

Char. Pray then, foresee me one

Sooth. You shall be yet farre fairer then you are

Char. He meanes in flesh

Iras. No, you shall paint when you are old

Char. Wrinkles forbid

Alex. Vex not his prescience, be attentiue

Char. Hush

Sooth. You shall be more belouing, then beloued

Char. I had rather heate my Liuer with drinking

Alex. Nay, heare him

Char. Good now some excellent Fortune: Let mee be married to three Kings in a forenoone, and Widdow them all: Let me haue a Childe at fifty, to whom Herode of Iewry may do Homage. Finde me to marrie me with Octauius Caesar, and companion me with my Mistris

Sooth. You shall out-liue the Lady whom you serue

Char. Oh excellent, I loue long life better then Figs

Sooth. You haue seene and proued a fairer former fortune, then that which is to approach

Char. Then belike my Children shall haue no names: Prythee how many Boyes and Wenches must I haue

Sooth. If euery of your wishes had a wombe, & foretell euery wish, a Million

Char. Out Foole, I forgiue thee for a Witch

Alex. You thinke none but your sheets are priuie to your wishes

Char. Nay come, tell Iras hers

Alex. Wee'l know all our Fortunes

Enob. Mine, and most of our Fortunes to night, shall be drunke to bed

Iras. There's a Palme presages Chastity, if nothing els

Char. E'ne as the o're-flowing Nylus presageth Famine

Iras. Go you wilde Bedfellow, you cannot Soothsay

Char. Nay, if an oyly Palme bee not a fruitfull Prognostication, I cannot scratch mine eare. Prythee tel her but a worky day Fortune

Sooth. Your Fortunes are alike

Iras. But how, but how, giue me particulars

Sooth. I haue said

Iras. Am I not an inch of Fortune better then she? Char. Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better then I: where would you choose it

Iras. Not in my Husbands nose

Char. Our worser thoughts Heauens mend

Alexas. Come, his Fortune, his Fortune. Oh let him mary a woman that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee, and let her dye too, and giue him a worse, and let worse follow worse, till the worst of all follow him laughing to his graue, fifty-fold a Cuckold. Good Isis heare me this Prayer, though thou denie me a matter of more waight: good Isis I beseech thee

Iras. Amen, deere Goddesse, heare that prayer of the people. For, as it is a heart-breaking to see a handsome man loose-Wiu'd, so it is a deadly sorrow, to beholde a foule Knaue vncuckolded: Therefore deere Isis keep decorum, and Fortune him accordingly

Char. Amen

Alex. Lo now, if it lay in their hands to make mee a Cuckold, they would make themselues Whores, but they'ld doo't. Enter Cleopatra.

Enob. Hush, heere comes Anthony

Char. Not he, the Queene

Cleo. Saue you, my Lord

Enob. No Lady

Cleo. Was he not heere? Char. No Madam

Cleo. He was dispos'd to mirth, but on the sodaine A Romane thought hath strooke him. Enobarbus? Enob. Madam

Cleo. Seeke him, and bring him hither: wher's Alexias? Alex. Heere at your seruice. My Lord approaches. Enter Anthony, with a Messenger.

Cleo. We will not looke vpon him: Go with vs.

Exeunt.

Messen. Fuluia thy Wife, First came into the Field

Ant. Against my Brother Lucius? Messen. I: but soone that Warre had end, And the times state Made friends of them, ioynting their force 'gainst Caesar, Whose better issue in the warre from Italy, Vpon the first encounter draue them

Ant. Well, what worst

Mess. The Nature of bad newes infects the Teller

Ant. When it concernes the Foole or Coward: On. Things that are past, are done, with me. 'Tis thus, Who tels me true, though in his Tale lye death, I heare him as he flatter'd

Mes. Labienus (this is stiffe-newes) Hath with his Parthian Force Extended Asia: from Euphrates his conquering Banner shooke, from Syria to Lydia, And to Ionia, whil'st- Ant. Anthony thou would'st say

Mes. Oh my Lord

Ant. Speake to me home, Mince not the generall tongue, name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome: Raile thou in Fuluia's phrase, and taunt my faults With such full License, as both Truth and Malice Haue power to vtter. Oh then we bring forth weeds, When our quicke windes lye still, and our illes told vs Is as our earing: fare thee well awhile

Mes. At your Noble pleasure.

Exit Messenger

Enter another Messenger.

Ant. From Scicion how the newes? Speake there

1.Mes. The man from Scicion, Is there such an one? 2.Mes. He stayes vpon your will

Ant. Let him appeare: These strong Egyptian Fetters I must breake, Or loose my selfe in dotage. Enter another Messenger with a Letter.

What are you? 3.Mes. Fuluia thy wife is dead

Ant. Where dyed she

Mes. In Scicion, her length of sicknesse, With what else more serious, Importeth thee to know, this beares

Antho. Forbeare me There's a great Spirit gone, thus did I desire it: What our contempts doth often hurle from vs, We wish it ours againe. The present pleasure, By reuolution lowring, does become The opposite of it selfe: she's good being gon, The hand could plucke her backe, that shou'd her on. I must from this enchanting Queene breake off, Ten thousand harmes, more then the illes I know My idlenesse doth hatch. Enter Enobarbus.

How now Enobarbus

Eno. What's your pleasure, Sir? Anth. I must with haste from hence

Eno. Why then we kill all our Women. We see how mortall an vnkindnesse is to them, if they suffer our departure death's the word

Ant. I must be gone

Eno. Vnder a compelling an occasion, let women die. It were pitty to cast them away for nothing, though betweene them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra catching but the least noyse of this, dies instantly: I haue seene her dye twenty times vppon farre poorer moment: I do think there is mettle in death, which commits some louing acte vpon her, she hath such a celerity in dying

Ant. She is cunning past mans thought

Eno. Alacke Sir no, her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure Loue. We cannot cal her winds and waters, sighes and teares: They are greater stormes and Tempests then Almanackes can report. This cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a showre of Raine as well as Ioue

Ant. Would I had neuer seene her

Eno. Oh sir, you had then left vnseene a wonderfull peece of worke, which not to haue beene blest withall, would haue discredited your Trauaile

Ant. Fuluia is dead

Eno. Sir

Ant. Fuluia is dead

Eno. Fuluia? Ant. Dead

Eno. Why sir, giue the Gods a thankefull Sacrifice: when it pleaseth their Deities to take the wife of a man from him, it shewes to man the Tailors of the earth: comforting therein, that when olde Robes are worne out, there are members to make new. If there were no more Women but Fuluia, then had you indeede a cut, and the case to be lamented: This greefe is crown'd with Consolation, your old Smocke brings foorth a new Petticoate, and indeed the teares liue in an Onion, that should water this sorrow

Ant. The businesse she hath broached in the State, Cannot endure my absence

Eno. And the businesse you haue broach'd heere cannot be without you, especially that of Cleopatra's, which wholly depends on your abode

Ant. No more light Answeres: Let our Officers Haue notice what we purpose. I shall breake The cause of our Expedience to the Queene, And get her loue to part. For not alone The death of Fuluia, with more vrgent touches Do strongly speake to vs: but the Letters too Of many our contriuing Friends in Rome, Petition vs at home. Sextus Pompeius Haue giuen the dare to Caesar, and commands The Empire of the Sea. Our slippery people, Whose Loue is neuer link'd to the deseruer, Till his deserts are past, begin to throw Pompey the great, and all his Dignities Vpon his Sonne, who high in Name and Power, Higher then both in Blood and Life, stands vp For the maine Souldier. Whose quality going on, The sides o'th' world may danger. Much is breeding, Which like the Coursers heire, hath yet but life, And not a Serpents poyson. Say our pleasure, To such whose places vnder vs, require Our quicke remoue from hence

Enob. I shall doo't. Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Alexas, and Iras.

Cleo. Where is he? Char. I did not see him since

Cleo. See where he is, Whose with him, what he does: I did not send you. If you finde him sad, Say I am dauncing: if in Myrth, report That I am sodaine sicke. Quicke, and returne

Char. Madam, me thinkes if you did loue him deerly, You do not hold the method, to enforce The like from him

Cleo. What should I do, I do not? Ch. In each thing giue him way, crosse him in nothing

Cleo. Thou teachest like a foole: the way to lose him

Char. Tempt him not so too farre. I wish forbeare, In time we hate that which we often feare. Enter Anthony.

But heere comes Anthony

Cleo. I am sicke, and sullen

An. I am sorry to giue breathing to my purpose

Cleo. Helpe me away deere Charmian, I shall fall, It cannot be thus long, the sides of Nature Will not sustaine it

Ant. Now my deerest Queene

Cleo. Pray you stand farther from mee

Ant. What's the matter? Cleo. I know by that same eye ther's some good news. What sayes the married woman you may goe? Would she had neuer giuen you leaue to come. Let her not say 'tis I that keepe you heere, I haue no power vpon you: Hers you are

Ant. The Gods best know

Cleo. Oh neuer was there Queene So mightily betrayed: yet at the first I saw the Treasons planted

Ant. Cleopatra

Cleo. Why should I thinke you can be mine, & true, (Though you in swearing shake the Throaned Gods) Who haue beene false to Fuluia? Riotous madnesse, To be entangled with those mouth-made vowes, Which breake themselues in swearing

Ant. Most sweet Queene

Cleo. Nay pray you seeke no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and goe: When you sued staying, Then was the time for words: No going then, Eternity was in our Lippes, and Eyes, Blisse in our browes bent: none our parts so poore, But was a race of Heauen. They are so still, Or thou the greatest Souldier of the world, Art turn'd the greatest Lyar

Ant. How now Lady? Cleo. I would I had thy inches, thou should'st know There were a heart in Egypt

Ant. Heare me Queene: The strong necessity of Time, commands Our Seruices a-while: but my full heart Remaines in vse with you. Our Italy, Shines o're with ciuill Swords; Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the Port of Rome, Equality of two Domesticke powers, Breed scrupulous faction: The hated growne to strength Are newly growne to Loue: The condemn'd Pompey, Rich in his Fathers Honor, creepes apace Into the hearts of such, as haue not thriued Vpon the present state, whose Numbers threaten, And quietnesse growne sicke of rest, would purge By any desperate change: My more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fuluias death

Cleo. Though age from folly could not giue me freedom It does from childishnesse. Can Fuluia dye? Ant. She's dead my Queene. Looke heere, and at thy Soueraigne leysure read The Garboyles she awak'd: at the last, best, See when, and where shee died

Cleo. O most false Loue! Where be the Sacred Violles thou should'st fill With sorrowfull water? Now I see, I see, In Fuluias death, how mine receiu'd shall be

Ant. Quarrell no more, but bee prepar'd to know The purposes I beare: which are, or cease, As you shall giue th' aduice. By the fire That quickens Nylus slime, I go from hence Thy Souldier, Seruant, making Peace or Warre, As thou affects

Cleo. Cut my Lace, Charmian come, But let it be, I am quickly ill, and well, So Anthony loues

Ant. My precious Queene forbeare, And giue true euidence to his Loue, which stands An honourable Triall

Cleo. So Fuluia told me. I prythee turne aside, and weepe for her, Then bid adiew to me, and say the teares Belong to Egypt. Good now, play one Scene Of excellent dissembling, and let it looke Like perfect Honor

Ant. You'l heat my blood no more? Cleo. You can do better yet: but this is meetly

Ant. Now by Sword

Cleo. And Target. Still he mends. But this is not the best. Looke prythee Charmian, How this Herculean Roman do's become The carriage of his chafe

Ant. Ile leaue you Lady

Cleo. Courteous Lord, one word: Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: Sir, you and I haue lou'd, but there's not it: That you know well, something it is I would: Oh, my Obliuion is a very Anthony, And I am all forgotten

Ant. But that your Royalty Holds Idlenesse your subiect, I should take you For Idlenesse it selfe

Cleo. 'Tis sweating Labour, To beare such Idlenesse so neere the heart As Cleopatra this. But Sir, forgiue me, Since my becommings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you. Your Honor calles you hence, Therefore be deafe to my vnpittied Folly, And all the Gods go with you. Vpon your Sword Sit Lawrell victory, and smooth successe Be strew'd before your feete

Ant. Let vs go. Come: Our separation so abides and flies, That thou reciding heere, goes yet with mee; And I hence fleeting, heere remaine with thee. Away.

Exeunt.

Enter Octauius reading a Letter, Lepidus, and their Traine.

Caes You may see Lepidus, and henceforth know, It is not Caesars Naturall vice, to hate One great Competitor. From Alexandria This is the newes: He fishes, drinkes, and wastes The Lampes of night in reuell: Is not more manlike Then Cleopatra: nor the Queene of Ptolomy More Womanly then he. Hardly gaue audience Or vouchsafe to thinke he had Partners. You Shall finde there a man, who is th' abstracts of all faults, That all men follow

Lep. I must not thinke There are, euils enow to darken all his goodnesse: His faults in him, seeme as the Spots of Heauen, More fierie by nights Blacknesse; Hereditarie, Rather then purchaste: what he cannot change, Then what he chooses

Caes You are too indulgent. Let's graunt it is not Amisse to tumble on the bed of Ptolomy, To giue a Kingdome for a Mirth, to sit And keepe the turne of Tipling with a Slaue, To reele the streets at noone, and stand the Buffet With knaues that smels of sweate: Say this becoms him (As his composure must be rare indeed, Whom these things cannot blemish) yet must Anthony No way excuse his foyles, when we do beare So great waight in his lightnesse. If he fill'd His vacancie with his Voluptuousnesse, Full surfets, and the drinesse of his bones, Call on him for't. But to confound such time, That drummes him from his sport, and speakes as lowd As his owne State, and ours, 'tis to be chid: As we rate Boyes, who being mature in knowledge, Pawne their experience to their present pleasure, And so rebell to iudgement. Enter a Messenger.

Lep. Heere's more newes

Mes. Thy biddings haue beene done, & euerie houre Most Noble Caesar, shalt thou haue report How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at Sea, And it appeares, he is belou'd of those That only haue feard Caesar: to the Ports The discontents repaire, and mens reports Giue him much wrong'd

Caes I should haue knowne no lesse, It hath bin taught vs from the primall state That he which is was wisht, vntill he were: And the ebb'd man, Ne're lou'd, till ne're worth loue, Comes fear'd, by being lack'd. This common bodie, Like to a Vagabond Flagge vpon the Streame, Goes too, and backe, lacking the varrying tyde To rot it selfe with motion

Mes. Caesar I bring thee word, Menacrates and Menas famous Pyrates Makes the Sea serue them, which they eare and wound With keeles of euery kinde. Many hot inrodes They make in Italy, the Borders Maritime Lacke blood to thinke on't, and flush youth reuolt, No Vessell can peepe forth: but 'tis as soone Taken as seene: for Pompeyes name strikes more Then could his Warre resisted Caesar. Anthony, Leaue thy lasciuious Vassailes. When thou once Was beaten from Medena, where thou slew'st Hirsius, and Pansa Consuls, at thy heele Did Famine follow, whom thou fought'st against, (Though daintily brought vp) with patience more Then Sauages could suffer. Thou did'st drinke The stale of Horses, and the gilded Puddle Which Beasts would cough at. Thy pallat the[n] did daine The roughest Berry, on the rudest Hedge. Yea, like the Stagge, when Snow the Pasture sheets, The barkes of Trees thou brows'd. On the Alpes, It is reported thou did'st eate strange flesh, Which some did dye to looke on: And all this (It wounds thine Honor that I speake it now) Was borne so like a Soldiour, that thy cheeke So much as lank'd not

Lep. 'Tis pitty of him

Caes Let his shames quickely Driue him to Rome, 'tis time we twaine Did shew our selues i'th' Field, and to that end Assemble me immediate counsell, Pompey Thriues in our Idlenesse

Lep. To morrow Caesar, I shall be furnisht to informe you rightly Both what by Sea and Land I can be able To front this present time

Caes Til which encounter, it is my busines too. Farwell

Lep. Farwell my Lord, what you shal know mean time Of stirres abroad, I shall beseech you Sir To let me be partaker

Caesar. Doubt not sir, I knew it for my Bond.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, & Mardian.

Cleo. Charmian

Char. Madam

Cleo. Ha, ha, giue me to drinke Mandragora

Char. Why Madam? Cleo. That I might sleepe out this great gap of time: My Anthony is away

Char. You thinke of him too much

Cleo. O 'tis Treason

Char. Madam, I trust not so

Cleo. Thou, Eunuch Mardian? Mar. What's your Highnesse pleasure? Cleo. Not now to heare thee sing. I take no pleasure In ought an Eunuch ha's: Tis well for thee, That being vnseminar'd, thy freer thoughts May not flye forth of Egypt. Hast thou Affections? Mar. Yes gracious Madam

Cleo. Indeed? Mar. Not in deed Madam, for I can do nothing But what in deede is honest to be done: Yet haue I fierce Affections, and thinke What Venus did with Mars

Cleo. Oh Charmion: Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? Or does he walke? Or is he on his Horse? Oh happy horse to beare the weight of Anthony! Do brauely Horse, for wot'st thou whom thou moou'st, The demy Atlas of this Earth, the Arme And Burganet of men. Hee's speaking now, Or murmuring, where's my Serpent of old Nyle, (For so he cals me:) Now I feede my selfe With most delicious poyson. Thinke on me That am with Phoebus amorous pinches blacke, And wrinkled deepe in time. Broad-fronted Caesar, When thou was't heere aboue the ground, I was A morsell for a Monarke: and great Pompey Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow, There would he anchor his Aspect, and dye With looking on his life. Enter Alexas from Caesar.

Alex. Soueraigne of Egypt, haile

Cleo. How much vnlike art thou Marke Anthony? Yet comming from him, that great Med'cine hath With his Tinct gilded thee. How goes it with my braue Marke Anthonie? Alex. Last thing he did (deere Queene) He kist the last of many doubled kisses This Orient Pearle. His speech stickes in my heart

Cleo. Mine eare must plucke it thence

Alex. Good Friend, quoth he: Say the firme Roman to great Egypt sends This treasure of an Oyster: at whose foote To mend the petty present, I will peece Her opulent Throne, with Kingdomes. All the East, (Say thou) shall call her Mistris. So he nodded, And soberly did mount an Arme-gaunt Steede, Who neigh'd so hye, that what I would haue spoke, Was beastly dumbe by him

Cleo. What was he sad, or merry? Alex. Like to the time o'th' yeare, between y extremes Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merrie

Cleo. Oh well diuided disposition: Note him, Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him. He was not sad, for he would shine on those That make their lookes by his. He was not merrie, Which seem'd to tell them, his remembrance lay In Egypt with his ioy, but betweene both. Oh heauenly mingle! Bee'st thou sad, or merrie, The violence of either thee becomes, So do's it no mans else. Met'st thou my Posts? Alex. I Madam, twenty seuerall Messengers. Why do you send so thicke? Cleo. Who's borne that day, when I forget to send to Anthonie, shall dye a Begger. Inke and paper Charmian. Welcome my good Alexas. Did I Charmian, euer loue Caesar so? Char. Oh that braue Caesar! Cleo. Be choak'd with such another Emphasis, Say the braue Anthony

Char. The valiant Caesar

Cleo. By Isis, I will giue thee bloody teeth, If thou with Caesar Paragon againe: My man of men

Char. By your most gracious pardon, I sing but after you

Cleo. My Sallad dayes, When I was greene in iudgement, cold in blood, To say, as I saide then. But come, away, Get me Inke and Paper, he shall haue euery day a seuerall greeting, or Ile vnpeople Egypt.

Exeunt.

Enter Pompey, Menecrates, and Menas, in warlike manner.

Pom. If the great Gods be iust, they shall assist The deeds of iustest men

Mene. Know worthy Pompey, that what they do delay, they not deny

Pom. Whiles we are sutors to their Throne, decayes the thing we sue for

Mene. We ignorant of our selues, Begge often our owne harmes, which the wise Powres Deny vs for our good: so finde we profit By loosing of our Prayers

Pom. I shall do well: The people loue me, and the Sea is mine; My powers are Cressent, and my Auguring hope Sayes it will come to'th' full. Marke Anthony In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make No warres without doores. Caesar gets money where He looses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, Of both is flatter'd: but he neither loues, Nor either cares for him

Mene. Caesar and Lepidus are in the field, A mighty strength they carry

Pom. Where haue you this? 'Tis false

Mene. From Siluius, Sir

Pom. He dreames: I know they are in Rome together Looking for Anthony: but all the charmes of Loue, Salt Cleopatra soften thy wand lip, Let Witchcraft ioyne with Beauty, Lust with both, Tye vp the Libertine in a field of Feasts, Keepe his Braine fuming. Epicurean Cookes, Sharpen with cloylesse sawce his Appetite, That sleepe and feeding may prorogue his Honour, Euen till a Lethied dulnesse- Enter Varrius.

How now Varrius? Var. This is most certaine, that I shall deliuer: Marke Anthony is euery houre in Rome Expected. Since he went from Egypt, 'tis A space for farther Trauaile

Pom. I could haue giuen lesse matter A better eare. Menas, I did not thinke This amorous Surfetter would haue donn'd his Helme For such a petty Warre: His Souldiership Is twice the other twaine: But let vs reare The higher our Opinion, that our stirring Can from the lap of Egypts Widdow, plucke The neere Lust-wearied Anthony

Mene. I cannot hope, Caesar and Anthony shall well greet together; His Wife that's dead, did trespasses to Caesar, His Brother wan'd vpon him, although I thinke Not mou'd by Anthony

Pom. I know not Menas, How lesser Enmities may giue way to greater, Were't not that we stand vp against them all: 'Twer pregnant they should square between themselues, For they haue entertained cause enough To draw their swords: but how the feare of vs May Ciment their diuisions, and binde vp The petty difference, we yet not know: Bee't as our Gods will haue't; it onely stands Our liues vpon, to vse our strongest hands Come Menas.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbus and Lepidus.

Lep. Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, And shall become you well, to intreat your Captaine To soft and gentle speech

Enob. I shall intreat him To answer like himselfe: if Caesar moue him, Let Anthony looke ouer Caesars head, And speake as lowd as Mars. By Iupiter, Were I the wearer of Anthonio's Beard, I would not shaue't to day

Lep. 'Tis not a time for priuate stomacking

Eno. Euery time serues for the matter that is then borne in't

Lep. But small to greater matters must giue way

Eno. Not if the small come first

Lep. Your speech is passion: but pray you stirre No Embers vp. Heere comes the Noble Anthony. Enter Anthony and Ventidius.

Eno. And yonder Caesar. Enter Caesar, Mecenas, and Agrippa.

Ant. If we compose well heere, to Parthia: Hearke Ventidius

Caesar. I do not know Mecenas, aske Agrippa

Lep. Noble Friends: That which combin'd vs was most great, and let not A leaner action rend vs. What's amisse, May it be gently heard. When we debate Our triuiall difference loud, we do commit Murther in healing wounds. Then Noble Partners, The rather for I earnestly beseech, Touch you the sowrest points with sweetest tearmes, Nor curstnesse grow to'th' matter

Ant. 'Tis spoken well: Were we before our Armies, and to fight, I should do thus. Flourish.

Caes Welcome to Rome

Ant. Thanke you

Caes Sit

Ant. Sit sir

Caes Nay then

Ant. I learne, you take things ill, which are not so: Or being, concerne you not

Caes I must be laught at, if or for nothing, or a little, I Should say my selfe offended, and with you Chiefely i'th' world. More laught at, that I should Once name you derogately: when to sound your name It not concern'd me

Ant. My being in Egypt Caesar, what was't to you? Caes No more then my reciding heere at Rome Might be to you in Egypt: yet if you there Did practise on my State, your being in Egypt Might be my question

Ant. How intend you, practis'd? Caes You may be pleas'd to catch at mine intent, By what did heere befall me. Your Wife and Brother Made warres vpon me, and their contestation Was Theame for you, you were the word of warre

Ant. You do mistake your busines, my Brother neuer Did vrge me in his Act: I did inquire it. And haue my Learning from some true reports That drew their swords with you, did he not rather Discredit my authority with yours, And make the warres alike against my stomacke, Hauing alike your cause. Of this, my Letters Before did satisfie you. If you'l patch a quarrell, As matter whole you haue to make it with, It must not be with this

Caes You praise your selfe, by laying defects of iudgement to me: but you patcht vp your excuses

Anth. Not so, not so: I know you could not lacke, I am certaine on't, Very necessity of this thought, that I Your Partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, Could not with gracefull eyes attend those Warres Which fronted mine owne peace. As for my wife, I would you had her spirit, in such another, The third oth' world is yours, which with a Snaffle, You may pace easie, but not such a wife

Enobar. Would we had all such wiues, that the men might go to Warres with the women

Anth. So much vncurbable, her Garboiles (Caesar) Made out of her impatience: which not wanted Shrodenesse of policie to: I greeuing grant, Did you too much disquiet, for that you must, But say I could not helpe it

Caesar. I wrote to you, when rioting in Alexandria you Did pocket vp my Letters: and with taunts Did gibe my Misiue out of audience

Ant. Sir, he fell vpon me, ere admitted, then: Three Kings I had newly feasted, and did want Of what I was i'th' morning: but next day I told him of my selfe, which was as much As to haue askt him pardon. Let this Fellow Be nothing of our strife: if we contend Out of our question wipe him

Caesar. You haue broken the Article of your oath, which you shall neuer haue tongue to charge me with

Lep. Soft Caesar

Ant. No Lepidus, let him speake, The Honour is Sacred which he talks on now, Supposing that I lackt it: but on Caesar, The Article of my oath

Caesar. To lend me Armes, and aide when I requir'd them, the which you both denied

Anth. Neglected rather: And then when poysoned houres had bound me vp From mine owne knowledge, as neerely as I may, Ile play the penitent to you. But mine honesty, Shall not make poore my greatnesse, nor my power Worke without it. Truth is, that Fuluia, To haue me out of Egypt, made Warres heere, For which my selfe, the ignorant motiue, do So farre aske pardon, as befits mine Honour To stoope in such a case

Lep. 'Tis Noble spoken

Mece. If it might please you, to enforce no further The griefes betweene ye: to forget them quite, Were to remember: that the present neede, Speakes to attone you

Lep. Worthily spoken Mecenas

Enobar. Or if you borrow one anothers Loue for the instant, you may when you heare no more words of Pompey returne it againe: you shall haue time to wrangle in, when you haue nothing else to do

Anth. Thou art a Souldier, onely speake no more

Enob. That trueth should be silent, I had almost forgot

Anth. You wrong this presence, therefore speake no more

Enob. Go too then: your Considerate stone

Caesar. I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech: for't cannot be, We shall remaine in friendship, our conditions So diffring in their acts. Yet if I knew, What Hoope should hold vs staunch from edge to edge Ath' world: I would persue it

Agri. Giue me leaue Caesar

Caesar. Speake Agrippa

Agri. Thou hast a Sister by the Mothers side, admir'd Octauia: Great Mark Anthony is now a widdower

Caesar. Say not, say Agrippa; if Cleopater heard you, your proofe were well deserued of rashnesse

Anth. I am not marryed Caesar: let me heere Agrippa further speake

Agri. To hold you in perpetuall amitie, To make you Brothers, and to knit your hearts With an vn-slipping knot, take Anthony, Octauia to his wife: whose beauty claimes No worse a husband then the best of men: whose Vertue, and whose generall graces, speake That which none else can vtter. By this marriage, All little Ielousies which now seeme great, And all great feares, which now import their dangers, Would then be nothing. Truth's would be tales, Where now halfe tales be truth's: her loue to both, Would each to other, and all loues to both Draw after her. Pardon what I haue spoke, For 'tis a studied not a present thought, By duty ruminated

Anth. Will Caesar speake? Caesar. Not till he heares how Anthony is toucht, With what is spoke already

Anth. What power is in Agrippa, If I would say Agrippa, be it so, To make this good? Caesar. The power of Caesar, And his power, vnto Octauia

Anth. May I neuer (To this good purpose, that so fairely shewes) Dreame of impediment: let me haue thy hand Further this act of Grace: and from this houre, The heart of Brothers gouerne in our Loues, And sway our great Designes

Caesar. There's my hand: A Sister I bequeath you, whom no Brother Did euer loue so deerely. Let her liue To ioyne our kingdomes, and our hearts, and neuer Flie off our Loues againe

Lepi. Happily, Amen

Ant. I did not think to draw my Sword 'gainst Pompey, For he hath laid strange courtesies, and great Of late vpon me. I must thanke him onely, Least my remembrance, suffer ill report: At heele of that, defie him

Lepi. Time cals vpon's, Of vs must Pompey presently be sought, Or else he seekes out vs

Anth. Where lies he? Caesar. About the Mount-Mesena

Anth. What is his strength by land? Caesar. Great, and encreasing: But by Sea he is an absolute Master

Anth. So is the Fame. Would we had spoke together. Hast we for it, Yet ere we put our selues in Armes, dispatch we The businesse we haue talkt of

Caesar. With most gladnesse, And do inuite you to my Sisters view, Whether straight Ile lead you

Anth. Let vs Lepidus not lacke your companie

Lep. Noble Anthony, not sickenesse should detaine me.

Flourish. Exit omnes. Manet Enobarbus, Agrippa, Mecenas.

Mec. Welcome from aegypt Sir

Eno. Halfe the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecenas. My honourable Friend Agrippa

Agri. Good Enobarbus

Mece. We haue cause to be glad, that matters are so well disgested: you staid well by't in Egypt

Enob. I Sir, we did sleepe day out of countenaunce: and made the night light with drinking

Mece. Eight Wilde-Boares rosted whole at a breakfast: and but twelue persons there. Is this true? Eno. This was but as a Flye by an Eagle: we had much more monstrous matter of Feast, which worthily deserued noting

Mecenas. She's a most triumphant Lady, if report be square to her

Enob. When she first met Marke Anthony, she purst vp his heart vpon the Riuer of Sidnis

Agri. There she appear'd indeed: or my reporter deuis'd well for her

Eno. I will tell you, The Barge she sat in, like a burnisht Throne Burnt on the water: the Poope was beaten Gold, Purple the Sailes: and so perfumed that The Windes were Loue-sicke. With them the Owers were Siluer, Which to the tune of Flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beate, to follow faster; As amorous of their strokes. For her owne person, It beggerd all discription, she did lye In her Pauillion, cloth of Gold, of Tissue, O're-picturing that Venus, where we see The fancie out-worke Nature. On each side her, Stood pretty Dimpled Boyes, like smiling Cupids, With diuers coulour'd Fannes whose winde did seeme, To gloue the delicate cheekes which they did coole, And what they vndid did

Agrip. Oh rare for Anthony

Eno. Her Gentlewoman, like the Nereides, So many Mer-maides tended her i'th' eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the Helme, A seeming Mer-maide steeres: The Silken Tackle, Swell with the touches of those Flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the Barge A strange inuisible perfume hits the sense Of the adiacent Wharfes. The Citty cast Her people out vpon her: and Anthony Enthron'd i'th' Market-place, did sit alone, Whisling to'th' ayre: which but for vacancie, Had gone to gaze on Cleopater too, And made a gap in Nature

Agri. Rare Egiptian

Eno. Vpon her landing, Anthony sent to her, Inuited her to Supper: she replyed, It should be better, he became her guest: Which she entreated, our Courteous Anthony, Whom nere the word of no woman hard speake, Being barber'd ten times o're, goes to the Feast; And for his ordinary, paies his heart, For what his eyes eate onely

Agri. Royall Wench: She made great Caesar lay his Sword to bed, He ploughed her, and she cropt

Eno. I saw her once Hop forty Paces through the publicke streete, And hauing lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, That she did make defect, perfection, And breathlesse powre breath forth

Mece. Now Anthony, must leaue her vtterly

Eno. Neuer he will not: Age cannot wither her, nor custome stale Her infinite variety: other women cloy The appetites they feede, but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies. For vildest things Become themselues in her, that the holy Priests Blesse her, when she is Riggish

Mece. If Beauty, Wisedome, Modesty, can settle The heart of Anthony: Octauia is A blessed Lottery to him

Agrip. Let vs go. Good Enobarbus, make your selfe my guest, whilst you abide heere

Eno. Humbly Sir I thanke you.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony, Caesar, Octauia betweene them.

Anth. The world, and my great office, will Sometimes deuide me from your bosome

Octa. All which time, before the Gods my knee shall bowe my prayers to them for you

Anth. Goodnight Sir. My Octauia Read not my blemishes in the worlds report: I haue not kept my square, but that to come Shall all be done byth' Rule: good night deere Lady: Good night Sir

Caesar. Goodnight. Enter.

Enter Soothsaier.

Anth. Now sirrah: you do wish your selfe in Egypt? Sooth. Would I had neuer come from thence, nor you thither

Ant. If you can, your reason? Sooth. I see it in my motion: haue it not in my tongue, But yet hie you to Egypt againe

Antho. Say to me, whose Fortunes shall rise higher Caesars or mine? Sooth. Caesars. Therefore (oh Anthony) stay not by his side Thy Daemon that thy spirit which keepes thee, is Noble, Couragious, high vnmatchable, Where Caesars is not. But neere him, thy Angell Becomes a feare: as being o're-powr'd, therefore Make space enough betweene you

Anth. Speake this no more

Sooth. To none but thee no more but: when to thee, If thou dost play with him at any game, Thou art sure to loose: And of that Naturall lucke, He beats thee 'gainst the oddes. Thy Luster thickens, When he shines by: I say againe, thy spirit Is all affraid to gouerne thee neere him: But he alway 'tis Noble

Anth. Get thee gone: Say to Ventigius I would speake with him. Enter.

He shall to Parthia, be it Art or hap, He hath spoken true. The very Dice obey him, And in our sports my better cunning faints, Vnder his chance, if we draw lots he speeds, His Cocks do winne the Battaile, still of mine, When it is all to naught: and his Quailes euer Beate mine (in hoopt) at odd's. I will to Egypte: And though I make this marriage for my peace, I'th' East my pleasure lies. Oh come Ventigius.

Enter Ventigius.

You must to Parthia, your Commissions ready: Follow me, and reciue't.

Exeunt.

Enter Lepidus, Mecenas and Agrippa.

Lepidus. Trouble your selues no further: pray you hasten your Generals after

Agr. Sir, Marke Anthony, will e'ne but kisse Octauia, and weele follow

Lepi. Till I shall see you in your Souldiers dresse, Which will become you both: Farewell

Mece. We shall: as I conceiue the iourney, be at Mount before you Lepidus

Lepi. Your way is shorter, my purposes do draw me much about, you'le win two dayes vpon me

Both. Sir good successe

Lepi. Farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopater, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Giue me some Musicke: Musicke, moody foode of vs that trade in Loue

Omnes. The Musicke, hoa. Enter Mardian the Eunuch.

Cleo. Let it alone, let's to Billiards: come Charmian

Char. My arme is sore, best play with Mardian

Cleopa. As well a woman with an Eunuch plaide, as with a woman. Come you'le play with me Sir? Mardi. As well as I can Madam

Cleo. And when good will is shewed, Though't come to short The Actor may pleade pardon. Ile none now, Giue me mine Angle, weele to'th' Riuer there My Musicke playing farre off. I will betray Tawny fine fishes, my bended hooke shall pierce Their slimy iawes: and as I draw them vp, Ile thinke them euery one an Anthony, And say, ah ha; y'are caught

Char. 'Twas merry when you wager'd on your Angling, when your diuer did hang a salt fish on his hooke which he with feruencie drew vp

Cleo. That time? Oh times: I laught him out of patience: and that night I laught him into patience, and next morne, Ere the ninth houre, I drunke him to his bed: Then put my Tires and Mantles on him, whilst I wore his Sword Phillippan. Oh from Italie, Enter a Messenger.

Ramme thou thy fruitefull tidings in mine eares, That long time haue bin barren

Mes. Madam, Madam

Cleo. Anthonyo's dead. If thou say so Villaine, thou kil'st thy Mistris: But well and free, if thou so yeild him. There is Gold, and heere My blewest vaines to kisse: a hand that Kings Haue lipt, and trembled kissing

Mes. First Madam, he is well

Cleo. Why there's more Gold. But sirrah marke, we vse To say, the dead are well: bring it to that, The Gold I giue thee, will I melt and powr Downe thy ill vttering throate

Mes. Good Madam heare me

Cleo. Well, go too I will: But there's no goodnesse in thy face if Anthony Be free and healthfull; so tart a fauour To trumpet such good tidings. If not well, Thou shouldst come like a Furie crown'd with Snakes, Not like a formall man

Mes. Wilt please you heare me? Cleo. I haue a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: Yet if thou say Anthony liues, 'tis well, Or friends with Caesar, or not Captiue to him, Ile set thee in a shower of Gold, and haile Rich Pearles vpon thee

Mes. Madam, he's well

Cleo. Well said

Mes. And Friends with Caesar

Cleo. Th'art an honest man

Mes. Caesar, and he, are greater Friends then euer

Cleo. Make thee a Fortune from me

Mes. But yet Madam

Cleo. I do not like but yet, it does alay The good precedence, fie vpon but yet, But yet is as a Iaylor to bring foorth Some monstrous Malefactor. Prythee Friend, Powre out the packe of matter to mine eare, The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar, In state of health thou saist, and thou saist, free

Mes. Free Madam, no: I made no such report, He's bound vnto Octauia

Cleo. For what good turne? Mes. For the best turne i'th' bed

Cleo. I am pale Charmian

Mes. Madam, he's married to Octauia

Cleo. The most infectious Pestilence vpon thee.

Strikes him downe.

Mes. Good Madam patience

Cleo. What say you?

Strikes him.

Hence horrible Villaine, or Ile spurne thine eyes Like balls before me: Ile vnhaire thy head,

She hales him vp and downe.

Thou shalt be whipt with Wyer, and stew'd in brine, Smarting in lingring pickle

Mes. Gratious Madam, I that do bring the newes, made not the match

Cleo. Say 'tis not so, a Prouince I will giue thee, And make thy Fortunes proud: the blow thou had'st Shall make thy peace, for mouing me to rage, And I will boot thee with what guift beside Thy modestie can begge

Mes. He's married Madam

Cleo. Rogue, thou hast liu'd too long.

Draw a knife.

Mes. Nay then Ile runne: What meane you Madam, I haue made no fault. Enter.

Char. Good Madam keepe your selfe within your selfe, The man is innocent

Cleo. Some Innocents scape not the thunderbolt: Melt Egypt into Nyle: and kindly creatures Turne all to Serpents. Call the slaue againe, Though I am mad, I will not byte him: Call? Char. He is afeard to come

Cleo. I will not hurt him, These hands do lacke Nobility, that they strike A meaner then my selfe: since I my selfe Haue giuen my selfe the cause. Come hither Sir. Enter the Messenger againe.

Though it be honest, it is neuer good To bring bad newes: giue to a gratious Message An host of tongues, but let ill tydings tell Themselues, when they be felt

Mes. I haue done my duty

Cleo. Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser then I do, If thou againe say yes

Mes. He's married Madam

Cleo. The Gods confound thee, Dost thou hold there still? Mes. Should I lye Madame? Cleo. Oh, I would thou didst: So halfe my Egypt were submerg'd and made A Cesterne for scal'd Snakes. Go get thee hence, Had'st thou Narcissus in thy face to me, Thou would'st appeere most vgly: He is married? Mes. I craue your Highnesse pardon

Cleo. He is married? Mes. Take no offence, that I would not offend you, To punnish me for what you make me do Seemes much vnequall, he's married to Octauia

Cleo. Oh that his fault should make a knaue of thee, That art not what th'art sure of. Get thee hence, The Marchandize which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too deere for me: Lye they vpon thy hand, and be vndone by em

Char. Good your Highnesse patience

Cleo. In praysing Anthony, I haue disprais'd Caesar

Char. Many times Madam

Cleo. I am paid for't now: lead me from hence, I faint, oh Iras, Charmian: 'tis no matter. Go to the Fellow, good Alexas bid him Report the feature of Octauia: her yeares, Her inclination, let him not leaue out The colour of her haire. Bring me word quickly, Let him for euer go, let him not Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other wayes a Mars. Bid you Alexas Bring me word, how tall she is: pitty me Charmian, But do not speake to me. Lead me to my Chamber.

Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter Pompey, at one doore with Drum and Trumpet: at another Caesar, Lepidus, Anthony, Enobarbus, Mecenas, Agrippa, Menas with Souldiers Marching.

Pom. Your Hostages I haue, so haue you mine: And we shall talke before we fight

Caesar. Most meete that first we come to words, And therefore haue we Our written purposes before vs sent, Which if thou hast considered, let vs know, If 'twill tye vp thy discontented Sword, And carry backe to Cicelie much tall youth, That else must perish heere

Pom. To you all three, The Senators alone of this great world, Chiefe Factors for the Gods. I do not know, Wherefore my Father should reuengers want, Hauing a Sonne and Friends, since Iulius Caesar, Who at Phillippi the good Brutus ghosted, There saw you labouring for him. What was't That mou'd pale Cassius to conspire? And what Made all-honor'd, honest, Romaine Brutus, With the arm'd rest, Courtiers of beautious freedome, To drench the Capitoll, but that they would Haue one man but a man, and that his it Hath made me rigge my Nauie. At whose burthen, The anger'd Ocean fomes, with which I meant To scourge th' ingratitude, that despightfull Rome Cast on my Noble Father

Caesar. Take your time

Ant. Thou can'st not feare vs Pompey with thy sailes. Weele speake with thee at Sea. At land thou know'st How much we do o're-count thee

Pom. At Land indeed Thou dost orecount me of my Fathers house: But since the Cuckoo buildes not for himselfe, Remaine in't as thou maist

Lepi. Be pleas'd to tell vs, (For this is from the present how you take) The offers we haue sent you

Caesar. There's the point

Ant. Which do not be entreated too, But waigh what it is worth imbrac'd Caesar. And what may follow to try a larger Fortune

Pom. You haue made me offer Of Cicelie, Sardinia: and I must Rid all the Sea of Pirats. Then, to send Measures of Wheate to Rome: this greed vpon, To part with vnhackt edges, and beare backe Our Targes vndinted

Omnes. That's our offer

Pom. Know then I came before you heere, A man prepar'd To take this offer. But Marke Anthony, Put me to some impatience: though I loose The praise of it by telling. You must know When Caesar and your Brother were at blowes, Your Mother came to Cicelie, and did finde Her welcome Friendly

Ant. I haue heard it Pompey, And am well studied for a liberall thanks, Which I do owe you

Pom. Let me haue your hand: I did not thinke Sir, to haue met you heere, Ant. The beds i'th' East are soft, and thanks to you, That cal'd me timelier then my purpose hither: For I haue gained by't

Caesar. Since I saw you last, ther's a change vpon you

Pom. Well, I know not, What counts harsh Fortune cast's vpon my face, But in my bosome shall she neuer come, To make my heart her vassaile

Lep. Well met heere

Pom. I hope so Lepidus, thus we are agreed: I craue our composion may be written And seal'd betweene vs, Caesar. That's the next to do

Pom. Weele feast each other, ere we part, and lett's Draw lots who shall begin

Ant. That will I Pompey

Pompey. No Anthony take the lot: but first or last, your fine Egyptian cookerie shall haue the fame, I haue heard that Iulius Caesar, grew fat with feasting there

Anth. You haue heard much

Pom. I haue faire meaning Sir

Ant. And faire words to them

Pom. Then so much haue I heard, And I haue heard Appolodorus carried- Eno. No more that: he did so

Pom. What I pray you? Eno. A certaine Queene to Caesar in a Matris

Pom. I know thee now, how far'st thou Souldier? Eno. Well, and well am like to do, for I perceiue Foure Feasts are toward

Pom. Let me shake thy hand, I neuer hated thee: I haue seene thee fight, When I haue enuied thy behauiour

Enob. Sir, I neuer lou'd you much, but I ha' prais'd ye, When you haue well deseru'd ten times as much, As I haue said you did

Pom. Inioy thy plainnesse, It nothing ill becomes thee: Aboord my Gally, I inuite you all. Will you leade Lords? All. Shew's the way, sir

Pom. Come.

Exeunt. Manet Enob. & Menas] Men. Thy Father Pompey would ne're haue made this Treaty. You, and I haue knowne sir

Enob. At Sea, I thinke

Men. We haue Sir

Enob. You haue done well by water

Men. And you by Land

Enob. I will praise any man that will praise me, thogh it cannot be denied what I haue done by Land

Men. Nor what I haue done by water

Enob. Yes some-thing you can deny for your owne safety: you haue bin a great Theefe by Sea

Men. And you by Land

Enob. There I deny my Land seruice: but giue mee your hand Menas, if our eyes had authority, heere they might take two Theeues kissing

Men. All mens faces are true, whatsomere their hands are

Enob. But there is neuer a fayre Woman, ha's a true Face

Men. No slander, they steale hearts

Enob. We came hither to fight with you

Men. For my part, I am sorry it is turn'd to a Drinking. Pompey doth this day laugh away his Fortune

Enob. If he do, sure he cannot weep't backe againe

Men. Y'haue said Sir, we look'd not for Marke Anthony heere, pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? Enob. Caesars Sister is call'd Octauia

Men. True Sir, she was the wife of Caius Marcellus

Enob. But she is now the wife of Marcus Anthonius

Men. Pray'ye sir

Enob. 'Tis true

Men. Then is Caesar and he, for euer knit together

Enob. If I were bound to Diuine of this vnity, I wold not Prophesie so

Men. I thinke the policy of that purpose, made more in the Marriage, then the loue of the parties

Enob. I thinke so too. But you shall finde the band that seemes to tye their friendship together, will bee the very strangler of their Amity: Octauia is of a holy, cold, and still conuersation

Men. Who would not haue his wife so? Eno. Not he that himselfe is not so: which is Marke Anthony: he will to his Egyptian dish againe: then shall the sighes of Octauia blow the fire vp in Caesar, and (as I said before) that which is the strength of their Amity, shall proue the immediate Author of their variance. Anthony will vse his affection where it is. Hee married but his occasion heere

Men. And thus it may be. Come Sir, will you aboord? I haue a health for you

Enob. I shall take it sir: we haue vs'd our Throats in Egypt

Men. Come, let's away.

Exeunt.

Musicke playes. Enter two or three Seruants with a Banket.

1 Heere they'l be man: some o' their Plants are ill rooted already, the least winde i'th' world wil blow them downe

2 Lepidus is high Coulord

1 They haue made him drinke Almes drinke

2 As they pinch one another by the disposition, hee cries out, no more; reconciles them to his entreatie, and himselfe to'th' drinke

1 But it raises the greater warre betweene him & his discretion

2 Why this it is to haue a name in great mens Fellowship: I had as liue haue a Reede that will doe me no seruice, as a Partizan I could not heaue

1 To be call'd into a huge Sphere, and not to be seene to moue in't, are the holes where eyes should bee, which pittifully disaster the cheekes.

A Sennet sounded. Enter Caesar, Anthony, Pompey, Lepidus, Agrippa, Mecenas, Enobarbus, Menes, with other Captaines.

Ant. Thus do they Sir: they take the flow o'th' Nyle By certaine scales i'th' Pyramid: they know By'th' height, the lownesse, or the meane: If dearth Or Foizon follow. The higher Nilus swels, The more it promises: as it ebbes, the Seedsman Vpon the slime and Ooze scatters his graine, And shortly comes to Haruest

Lep. Y'haue strange Serpents there? Anth. I Lepidus

Lep. Your Serpent of Egypt, is bred now of your mud by the operation of your Sun: so is your Crocodile

Ant. They are so

Pom. Sit, and some Wine: A health to Lepidus

Lep. I am not so well as I should be: But Ile ne're out

Enob. Not till you haue slept: I feare me you'l bee in till then

Lep. Nay certainly, I haue heard the Ptolomies Pyramisis are very goodly things: without contradiction I haue heard that

Menas. Pompey, a word

Pomp. Say in mine eare, what is't

Men. Forsake thy seate I do beseech thee Captaine, And heare me speake a word

Pom. Forbeare me till anon.

Whispers in's Eare.

This Wine for Lepidus

Lep. What manner o' thing is your Crocodile? Ant. It is shap'd sir like it selfe, and it is as broad as it hath bredth; It is iust so high as it is, and mooues with it owne organs. It liues by that which nourisheth it, and the Elements once out of it, it Transmigrates

Lep. What colour is it of? Ant. Of it owne colour too

Lep. 'Tis a strange Serpent

Ant. 'Tis so, and the teares of it are wet

Caes Will this description satisfie him? Ant. With the Health that Pompey giues him, else he is a very Epicure

Pomp. Go hang sir, hang: tell me of that? Away: Do as I bid you. Where's this Cup I call'd for? Men. If for the sake of Merit thou wilt heare mee, Rise from thy stoole

Pom. I thinke th'art mad: the matter? Men. I haue euer held my cap off to thy Fortunes

Pom. Thou hast seru'd me with much faith: what's else to say? Be iolly Lords

Anth. These Quicke-sands Lepidus, Keepe off, them for you sinke

Men. Wilt thou be Lord of all the world? Pom. What saist thou? Men. Wilt thou be Lord of the whole world? That's twice

Pom. How should that be? Men. But entertaine it, and though thou thinke me poore, I am the man will giue thee all the world

Pom. Hast thou drunke well

Men. No Pompey, I haue kept me from the cup, Thou art if thou dar'st be, the earthly Ioue: What ere the Ocean pales, or skie inclippes, Is thine, if thou wilt ha't

Pom. Shew me which way? Men. These three World-sharers, these Competitors Are in thy vessell. Let me cut the Cable, And when we are put off, fall to their throates: All there is thine

Pom. Ah, this thou shouldst haue done, And not haue spoke on't. In me 'tis villanie, In thee, 't had bin good seruice: thou must know, 'Tis not my profit that does lead mine Honour: Mine Honour it, Repent that ere thy tongue, Hath so betraide thine acte. Being done vnknowne, I should haue found it afterwards well done, But must condemne it now: desist, and drinke

Men. For this, Ile neuer follow Thy paul'd Fortunes more, Who seekes and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall neuer finde it more

Pom. This health to Lepidus

Ant. Beare him ashore, Ile pledge it for him Pompey

Eno. Heere's to thee Menas

Men. Enobarbus, welcome

Pom. Fill till the cup be hid

Eno. There's a strong Fellow Menas

Men. Why? Eno. A beares the third part of the world man: seest not? Men. The third part, then he is drunk: would it were all, that it might go on wheeles

Eno. Drinke thou: encrease the Reeles

Men. Come

Pom. This is not yet an Alexandrian Feast

Ant. It ripen's, towards it: strike the Vessells hoa. Heere's to Caesar

Caesar. I could well forbear't, it's monstrous labour when I wash my braine, and it grow fouler

Ant. Be a Child o'th' time

Caesar. Possesse it, Ile make answer: but I had rather fast from all, foure dayes, then drinke so much in one

Enob. Ha my braue Emperour, shall we daunce now the Egyptian Backenals, and celebrate our drinke? Pom. Let's ha't good Souldier

Ant. Come, let's all take hands, Till that the conquering Wine hath steep't our sense, In soft and delicate Lethe

Eno. All take hands: Make battery to our eares with the loud Musicke, The while, Ile place you, then the Boy shall sing. The holding euery man shall beate as loud, As his strong sides can volly.

Musicke Playes. Enobarbus places them hand in hand.

The Song.

Come thou Monarch of the Vine, Plumpie Bacchus, with pinke eyne: In thy Fattes our Cares be drown'd, With thy Grapes our haires be Crown'd. Cup vs till the world go round, Cup vs till the world go round

Caesar. What would you more? Pompey goodnight. Good Brother Let me request you of our grauer businesse Frownes at this leuitie. Gentle Lords let's part, You see we haue burnt our cheekes. Strong Enobarbe Is weaker then the Wine, and mine owne tongue Spleet's what it speakes: the wilde disguise hath almost Antickt vs all. What needs more words? goodnight. Good Anthony your hand

Pom. Ile try you on the shore

Anth. And shall Sir, giues your hand

Pom. Oh Anthony, you haue my Father house. But what, we are Friends? Come downe into the Boate

Eno. Take heed you fall not Menas: Ile not on shore, No to my Cabin: these Drummes, These Trumpets, Flutes: what Let Neptune heare, we bid aloud farewell To these great Fellowes. Sound and be hang'd, sound out.

Sound a Flourish with Drummes.

Enor. Hoo saies a there's my Cap

Men. Hoa, Noble Captaine, come.

Exeunt.

Enter Ventidius as it were in triumph, the dead body of Pacorus borne before him.

Ven. Now darting Parthya art thou stroke, and now Pleas'd Fortune does of Marcus Crassus death Make me reuenger. Beare the Kings Sonnes body, Before our Army, thy Pacorus Orades, Paies this for Marcus Crassus

Romaine. Noble Ventidius, Whil'st yet with Parthian blood thy Sword is warme, The Fugitiue Parthians follow. Spurre through Media, Mesapotamia, and the shelters, whether The routed flie. So thy grand Captaine Anthony Shall set thee on triumphant Chariots, and Put Garlands on thy head

Ven. Oh Sillius, Sillius, I haue done enough. A lower place note well May make too great an act. For learne this Sillius, Better to leaue vndone, then by our deed Acquire too high a Fame, when him we serues away. Caesar and Anthony, haue euer wonne More in their officer, then person. Sossius One of my place in Syria, his Lieutenant, For quicke accumulation of renowne, Which he atchiu'd by'th' minute, lost his fauour. Who does i'th' Warres more then his Captaine can, Becomes his Captaines Captaine: and Ambition (The Souldiers vertue) rather makes choise of losse Then gaine, which darkens him. I could do more to do Anthonius good, But 'twould offend him. And in his offence, Should my performance perish

Rom. Thou hast Ventidius that, without the which a Souldier and his Sword graunts scarce distinction: thou wilt write to Anthony

Ven. Ile humbly signifie what in his name, That magicall word of Warre we haue effected, How with his Banners, and his well paid ranks, The nere-yet beaten Horse of Parthia, We haue iaded out o'th' Field

Rom. Where is he now? Ven. He purposeth to Athens, whither with what hast The waight we must conuay with's, will permit: We shall appeare before him. On there, passe along.

Exeunt.

Enter Agrippa at one doore, Enobarbus at another.

Agri. What are the Brothers parted? Eno. They haue dispatcht with Pompey, he is gone, The other three are Sealing. Octauia weepes To part from Rome: Caesar is sad, and Lepidus Since Pompey's feast, as Menas saies, is troubled With the Greene-Sicknesse

Agri. 'Tis a Noble Lepidus

Eno. A very fine one: oh, how he loues Caesar

Agri. Nay but how deerely he adores Mark Anthony

Eno. Caesar? why he's the Iupiter of men

Ant. What's Anthony, the God of Iupiter? Eno. Spake you of Caesar? How, the non-pareill? Agri. Oh Anthony, oh thou Arabian Bird! Eno. Would you praise Caesar, say Caesar go no further

Agr. Indeed he plied them both with excellent praises

Eno. But he loues Caesar best, yet he loues Anthony: Hoo, Hearts, Tongues, Figure, Scribes, Bards, Poets, cannot Thinke speake, cast, write, sing, number: hoo, His loue to Anthony. But as for Caesar, Kneele downe, kneele downe, and wonder

Agri. Both he loues

Eno. They are his Shards, and he their Beetle, so: This is to horse: Adieu, Noble Agrippa

Agri. Good Fortune worthy Souldier, and farewell. Enter Caesar, Anthony, Lepidus, and Octauia.

Antho. No further Sir

Caesar. You take from me a great part of my selfe: Vse me well in't. Sister, proue such a wife As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest Band Shall passe on thy approofe: most Noble Anthony, Let not the peece of Vertue which is set Betwixt vs, as the Cyment of our loue To keepe it builded, be the Ramme to batter The Fortresse of it: for better might we Haue lou'd without this meane, if on both parts This be not cherisht

Ant. Make me not offended, in your distrust

Caesar. I haue said

Ant. You shall not finde, Though you be therein curious, the lest cause For what you seeme to feare, so the Gods keepe you, And make the hearts of Romaines serue your ends: We will heere part

Caesar. Farewell my deerest Sister, fare thee well, The Elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well

Octa. My Noble Brother

Anth. The Aprill's in her eyes, it is Loues spring, And these the showers to bring it on: be cheerfull

Octa. Sir, looke well to my Husbands house: and- Caesar. What Octauia? Octa. Ile tell you in your eare

Ant. Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can Her heart informe her tongue. The Swannes downe feather That stands vpon the Swell at the full of Tide: And neither way inclines

Eno. Will Caesar weepe? Agr. He ha's a cloud in's face

Eno. He were the worse for that were he a Horse, so is he being a man

Agri. Why Enobarbus: When Anthony found Iulius Caesar dead, He cried almost to roaring: And he wept, When at Phillippi he found Brutus slaine

Eno. That year indeed, he was trobled with a rheume, What willingly he did confound, he wail'd, Beleeu't till I weepe too

Caesar. No sweet Octauia, You shall heare from me still: the time shall not Out-go my thinking on you

Ant. Come Sir, come, Ile wrastle with you in my strength of loue, Looke heere I haue you, thus I let you go, And giue you to the Gods

Caesar. Adieu, be happy

Lep. Let all the number of the Starres giue light To thy faire way

Caesar. Farewell, farewell.

Kisses Octauia.

Ant. Farewell.

Trumpets sound. Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Alexas.

Cleo. Where is the Fellow? Alex. Halfe afeard to come

Cleo. Go too, go too: Come hither Sir. Enter the Messenger as before.

Alex. Good Maiestie: Herod of Iury dare not looke vpon you, but when you are well pleas'd

Cleo. That Herods head, Ile haue: but how? When Anthony is gone, through whom I might commaund it: Come thou neere

Mes. Most gratious Maiestie

Cleo. Did'st thou behold Octauia? Mes. I dread Queene

Cleo. Where? Mes. Madam in Rome, I lookt her in the face: and saw her led betweene her Brother, and Marke Anthony

Cleo. Is she as tall as me? Mes. She is not Madam

Cleo. Didst heare her speake? Is she shrill tongu'd or low? Mes. Madam, I heard her speake, she is low voic'd

Cleo. That's not so good: he cannot like her long

Char. Like her? Oh Isis: 'tis impossible

Cleo. I thinke so Charmian: dull of tongue, & dwarfish What Maiestie is in her gate, remember If ere thou look'st on Maiestie

Mes. She creepes: her motion, & her station are as one. She shewes a body, rather then a life, A Statue, then a Breather

Cleo. Is this certaine? Mes. Or I haue no obseruance

Cha. Three in Egypt cannot make better note

Cleo. He's very knowing, I do perceiu't, There's nothing in her yet. The Fellow ha's good iudgement

Char. Excellent

Cleo. Guesse at her yeares, I prythee

Mess. Madam, she was a widdow

Cleo. Widdow? Charmian, hearke

Mes. And I do thinke she's thirtie

Cle. Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? Mess. Round, euen to faultinesse

Cleo. For the most part too, they are foolish that are so. Her haire what colour? Mess. Browne Madam: and her forehead As low as she would wish it

Cleo. There's Gold for thee, Thou must not take my former sharpenesse ill, I will employ thee backe againe: I finde thee Most fit for businesse. Go, make thee ready, Our Letters are prepar'd

Char. A proper man

Cleo. Indeed he is so: I repent me much That so I harried him. Why me think's by him, This Creature's no such thing

Char. Nothing Madam

Cleo. The man hath seene some Maiesty, and should know

Char. Hath he seene Maiestie? Isis else defend: and seruing you so long

Cleopa. I haue one thing more to aske him yet good Charmian: but 'tis no matter, thou shalt bring him to me where I will write; all may be well enough

Char. I warrant you Madam.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony and Octauia.

Ant. Nay, nay Octauia, not onely that, That were excusable, that and thousands more Of semblable import, but he hath wag'd New Warres 'gainst Pompey. Made his will, and read it, To publicke eare, spoke scantly of me, When perforce he could not But pay me tearmes of Honour: cold and sickly He vented then most narrow measure: lent me, When the best hint was giuen him: he not took't, Or did it from his teeth

Octaui. Oh my good Lord, Beleeue not all, or if you must beleeue, Stomacke not all. A more vnhappie Lady, If this deuision chance, ne're stood betweene Praying for both parts: The good Gods wil mocke me presently, When I shall pray: Oh blesse my Lord, and Husband, Vndo that prayer, by crying out as loud, Oh blesse my Brother. Husband winne, winne Brother, Prayes, and distroyes the prayer, no midway 'Twixt these extreames at all

Ant. Gentle Octauia, Let your best loue draw to that point which seeks Best to preserue it: if I loose mine Honour, I loose my selfe: better I were not yours Then your so branchlesse. But as you requested, Your selfe shall go between's, the meane time Lady, Ile raise the preparation of a Warre Shall staine your Brother, make your soonest hast, So your desires are yours

Oct. Thanks to my Lord, The Ioue of power make me most weake, most weake, Your reconciler: Warres 'twixt you twaine would be, As if the world should cleaue, and that slaine men Should soalder vp the Rift

Anth. When it appeeres to you where this begins, Turne your displeasure that way, for our faults Can neuer be so equall, that your loue Can equally moue with them. Prouide your going, Choose your owne company, and command what cost Your heart he's mind too.

Exeunt.

Enter Enobarbus, and Eros.

Eno. How now Friend Eros? Eros. Ther's strange Newes come Sir

Eno. What man? Ero. Caesar & Lepidus haue made warres vpon Pompey

Eno. This is old, what is the successe? Eros. Caesar hauing made vse of him in the warres 'gainst Pompey: presently denied him riuality, would not let him partake in the glory of the action, and not resting here, accuses him of Letters he had formerly wrote to Pompey. Vpon his owne appeale seizes him, so the poore third is vp, till death enlarge his Confine

Eno. Then would thou hadst a paire of chaps no more, and throw betweene them all the food thou hast, they'le grinde the other. Where's Anthony? Eros. He's walking in the garden thus, and spurnes The rush that lies before him. Cries Foole Lepidus, And threats the throate of that his Officer, That murdred Pompey

Eno. Our great Nauies rig'd

Eros. For Italy and Caesar, more Domitius, My Lord desires you presently: my Newes I might haue told heareafter

Eno. 'Twillbe naught, but let it be: bring me to Anthony

Eros. Come Sir,

Exeunt.

Enter Agrippa, Mecenas, and Caesar.

Caes Contemning Rome he ha's done all this, & more In Alexandria: heere's the manner of't: I'th' Market-place on a Tribunall siluer'd, Cleopatra and himselfe in Chaires of Gold Were publikely enthron'd: at the feet, sat Caesarion whom they call my Fathers Sonne, And all the vnlawfull issue, that their Lust Since then hath made betweene them. Vnto her, He gaue the stablishment of Egypt, made her Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, absolute Queene

Mece. This in the publike eye? Caesar. I'th' common shew place, where they exercise, His Sonnes hither proclaimed the King of Kings, Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia He gaue to Alexander. To Ptolomy he assign'd, Syria, Silicia, and Phoenetia: she In th' abiliments of the Goddesse Isis That day appeer'd, and oft before gaue audience, As 'tis reported so

Mece. Let Rome be thus inform'd

Agri. Who queazie with his insolence already, Will their good thoughts call from him

Caesar. The people knowes it, And haue now receiu'd his accusations

Agri. Who does he accuse? Caesar. Caesar, and that hauing in Cicilie Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him His part o'th' Isle. Then does he say, he lent me Some shipping vnrestor'd. Lastly, he frets That Lepidus of the Triumpherate, should be depos'd, And being that, we detaine all his Reuenue

Agri. Sir, this should be answer'd

Caesar. 'Tis done already, and the Messenger gone: I haue told him Lepidus was growne too cruell, That he his high Authority abus'd, And did deserue his change: for what I haue conquer'd, I grant him part: but then in his Armenia, And other of his conquer'd Kingdoms, I demand the like Mec. Hee'l neuer yeeld to that

Caes Nor must not then be yeelded to in this. Enter Octauia with her Traine.

Octa. Haile Caesar, and my L[ord]. haile most deere Caesar

Caesar. That euer I should call thee Cast-away

Octa. You haue not call'd me so, nor haue you cause

Caes Why haue you stoln vpon vs thus? you come not Like Caesars Sister, The wife of Anthony Should haue an Army for an Vsher, and The neighes of Horse to tell of her approach, Long ere she did appeare. The trees by'th' way Should haue borne men, and expectation fainted, Longing for what it had not. Nay, the dust Should haue ascended to the Roofe of Heauen, Rais'd by your populous Troopes: But you are come A Market-maid to Rome, and haue preuented The ostentation of our loue; which left vnshewne, Is often left vnlou'd: we should haue met you By Sea, and Land, supplying euery Stage With an augmented greeting

Octa. Good my Lord, To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did it On my free-will. My Lord Marke Anthony, Hearing that you prepar'd for Warre, acquainted My greeued eare withall: whereon I begg'd His pardon for returne

Caes Which soone he granted, Being an abstract 'tweene his Lust, and him

Octa. Do not say so, my Lord

Caes I haue eyes vpon him, And his affaires come to me on the wind: wher is he now? Octa. My Lord, in Athens

Caesar. No my most wronged Sister, Cleopatra Hath nodded him to her. He hath giuen his Empire Vp to a Whore, who now are leuying The Kings o'th' earth for Warre. He hath assembled, Bochus the King of Lybia, Archilaus Of Cappadocia, Philadelphos King Of Paphlagonia: the Thracian King Adullas, King Manchus of Arabia, King of Pont, Herod of Iewry, Mithridates King Of Comageat, Polemen and Amintas, The Kings of Mede, and Licoania, With a more larger List of Scepters

Octa. Aye me most wretched, That haue my heart parted betwixt two Friends, That does afflict each other

Caes Welcom hither: your Letters did with-holde our breaking forth Till we perceiu'd both how you were wrong led, And we in negligent danger: cheere your heart, Be you not troubled with the time, which driues O're your content, these strong necessities, But let determin'd things to destinie Hold vnbewayl'd their way. Welcome to Rome, Nothing more deere to me: You are abus'd Beyond the marke of thought: and the high Gods To do you Iustice, makes his Ministers Of vs, and those that loue you. Best of comfort, And euer welcom to vs

Agrip. Welcome Lady

Mec. Welcome deere Madam, Each heart in Rome does loue and pitty you, Onely th' adulterous Anthony, most large In his abhominations, turnes you off, And giues his potent Regiment to a Trull That noyses it against vs

Octa. Is it so sir? Caes Most certaine: Sister welcome: pray you Be euer knowne to patience. My deer'st Sister.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, and Enobarbus.

Cleo. I will be euen with thee, doubt it not

Eno. But why, why, why? Cleo. Thou hast forespoke my being in these warres, And say'st it is not fit

Eno. Well: is it, is it

Cleo. If not, denounc'd against vs, why should not we be there in person

Enob. Well, I could reply: if wee should serue with Horse and Mares together, the Horse were meerly lost: the Mares would beare a Soldiour and his Horse

Cleo. What is't you say? Enob. Your presence needs must puzle Anthony, Take from his heart, take from his Braine, from's time, What should not then be spar'd. He is already Traduc'd for Leuity, and 'tis said in Rome, That Photinus an Eunuch, and your Maides Mannage this warre

Cleo. Sinke Rome, and their tongues rot That speake against vs. A Charge we beare i'th' Warre, And as the president of my Kingdome will Appeare there for a man. Speake not against it, I will not stay behinde. Enter Anthony and Camidias.

Eno. Nay I haue done, here comes the Emperor

Ant. Is it not strange Camidius, That from Tarientum, and Brandusium, He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea, And take in Troine. You haue heard on't (Sweet?) Cleo. Celerity is neuer more admir'd, Then by the negligent

Ant. A good rebuke, Which might haue well becom'd the best of men To taunt at slacknesse. Camidius, wee Will fight with him by Sea

Cleo. By Sea, what else? Cam. Why will my Lord, do so? Ant. For that he dares vs too't

Enob. So hath my Lord, dar'd him to single fight

Cam. I, and to wage this Battell at Pharsalia, Where Caesar fought with Pompey. But these offers Which serue not for his vantage, he shakes off, And so should you

Enob. Your Shippes are not well mann'd, Your Marriners are Militers, Reapers, people Ingrost by swift Impresse. In Caesars Fleete, Are those, that often haue 'gainst Pompey fought, Their shippes are yare, yours heauy: no disgrace Shall fall you for refusing him at Sea, Being prepar'd for Land

Ant. By Sea, by Sea

Eno. Most worthy Sir, you therein throw away The absolute Soldiership you haue by Land, Distract your Armie, which doth most consist Of Warre-markt-footmen, leaue vnexecuted Your owne renowned knowledge, quite forgoe The way which promises assurance, and Giue vp your selfe meerly to chance and hazard, From firme Securitie

Ant. Ile fight at Sea

Cleo. I haue sixty Sailes, Caesar none better

Ant. Our ouer-plus of shipping will we burne, And with the rest full mann'd, from th' head of Action Beate th' approaching Caesar. But if we faile, We then can doo't at Land. Enter a Messenger.

Thy Businesse? Mes. The Newes is true, my Lord, he is descried, Caesar ha's taken Toryne

Ant. Can he be there in person? 'Tis impossible Strange, that his power should be. Camidius, Our nineteene Legions thou shalt hold by Land, And our twelue thousand Horse. Wee'l to our Ship, Away my Thetis. Enter a Soldiour.

How now worthy Souldier? Soul. Oh Noble Emperor, do not fight by Sea, Trust not to rotten plankes: Do you misdoubt This Sword, and these my Wounds; let th' Egyptians And the Phoenicians go a ducking: wee Haue vs'd to conquer standing on the earth, And fighting foot to foot

Ant. Well, well, away.

exit Ant. Cleo. & Enob

Soul. By Hercules I thinke I am i'th' right

Cam. Souldier thou art: but his whole action growes Not in the power on't: so our Leaders leade, And we are Womens mens

Soul. You keepe by Land the Legions and the Horse whole, do you not? Ven. Marcus Octauius, Marcus Iusteus, Publicola, and Celius, are for Sea: But we keepe whole by Land. This speede of Caesars Carries beyond beleefe

Soul. While he was yet in Rome, His power went out in such distractions, As beguilde all Spies

Cam. Who's his Lieutenant, heare you? Soul. They say, one Towrus

Cam. Well, I know the man. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. The Emperor cals Camidius

Cam. With Newes the times with Labour, And throwes forth each minute, some.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar with his Army, marching.

Caes Towrus? Tow. My Lord

Caes Strike not by Land, Keepe whole, prouoke not Battaile Till we haue done at Sea. Do not exceede The Prescript of this Scroule: Our fortune lyes Vpon this iumpe. Enter.

Enter Anthony, and Enobarbus.

Ant. Set we our Squadrons on yond side o'th' Hill, In eye of Caesars battaile, from which place We may the number of the Ships behold, And so proceed accordingly. Enter.

Camidius Marcheth with his Land Army one way ouer the stage, and Towrus the Lieutenant of Caesar the other way: After their going in, is heard the noise of a Sea fight. Alarum. Enter Enobarbus and Scarus.

Eno. Naught, naught, al naught, I can behold no longer: Thantoniad, the Egyptian Admirall, With all their sixty flye, and turne the Rudder: To see't, mine eyes are blasted. Enter Scarrus.

Scar. Gods, & Goddesses, all the whol synod of them! Eno. What's thy passion

Scar. The greater Cantle of the world, is lost With very ignorance, we haue kist away Kingdomes, and Prouinces

Eno. How appeares the Fight? Scar. On our side, like the Token'd Pestilence, Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred Nagge of Egypt, (Whom Leprosie o're-take) i'th' midst o'th' fight, When vantage like a payre of Twinnes appear'd Both as the same, or rather ours the elder; (The Breeze vpon her) like a Cow in Iune, Hoists Sailes, and flyes

Eno. That I beheld: Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not Indure a further view

Scar. She once being looft, The Noble ruine of her Magicke, Anthony, Claps on his Sea-wing, and (like a doting Mallard) Leauing the Fight in heighth, flyes after her: I neuer saw an Action of such shame; Experience, Man-hood, Honor, ne're before, Did violate so it selfe

Enob. Alacke, alacke. Enter Camidius

Cam. Our Fortune on the Sea is out of breath, And sinkes most lamentably. Had our Generall Bin what he knew himselfe, it had gone well: Oh his ha's giuen example for our flight, Most grossely by his owne

Enob. I, are you thereabouts? Why then goodnight indeede

Cam. Toward Peloponnesus are they fled

Scar. 'Tis easie toot, And there I will attend what further comes

Camid. To Caesar will I render My Legions and my Horse, sixe Kings alreadie Shew me the way of yeelding

Eno. Ile yet follow The wounded chance of Anthony, though my reason Sits in the winde against me. Enter Anthony with Attendants.

Ant. Hearke, the Land bids me tread no more vpon't, It is asham'd to beare me. Friends, come hither, I am so lated in the world, that I Haue lost my way for euer. I haue a shippe, Laden with Gold, take that, diuide it: flye, And make your peace with Caesar

Omnes. Fly? Not wee

Ant. I haue fled my selfe, and haue instructed cowards To runne, and shew their shoulders. Friends be gone, I haue my selfe resolu'd vpon a course, Which has no neede of you. Be gone, My Treasure's in the Harbour. Take it: Oh, I follow'd that I blush to looke vpon, My very haires do mutiny: for the white Reproue the browne for rashnesse, and they them For feare, and doting. Friends be gone, you shall Haue Letters from me to some Friends, that will Sweepe your way for you. Pray you looke not sad, Nor make replyes of loathnesse, take the hint Which my dispaire proclaimes. Let them be left Which leaues it selfe, to the Sea-side straight way; I will possesse you of that ship and Treasure. Leaue me, I pray a little: pray you now, Nay do so: for indeede I haue lost command, Therefore I pray you, Ile see you by and by.

Sits downe

Enter Cleopatra led by Charmian and Eros.

Eros. Nay gentle Madam, to him, comfort him

Iras. Do most deere Queene

Char. Do, why, what else? Cleo. Let me sit downe: Oh Iuno

Ant. No, no, no, no, no

Eros. See you heere, Sir? Ant. Oh fie, fie, fie

Char. Madam

Iras. Madam, oh good Empresse

Eros. Sir, sir

Ant. Yes my Lord, yes; he at Philippi kept His sword e'ne like a dancer, while I strooke The leane and wrinkled Cassius, and 'twas I That the mad Brutus ended: he alone Dealt on Lieutenantry, and no practise had In the braue squares of Warre: yet now: no matter

Cleo. Ah stand by

Eros. The Queene my Lord, the Queene

Iras. Go to him, Madam, speake to him, Hee's vnqualitied with very shame

Cleo. Well then, sustaine me: Oh

Eros. Most Noble Sir arise, the Queene approaches, Her head's declin'd, and death will cease her, but Your comfort makes the rescue

Ant. I haue offended Reputation, A most vnnoble sweruing

Eros. Sir, the Queene

Ant. Oh whether hast thou lead me Egypt, see How I conuey my shame, out of thine eyes, By looking backe what I haue left behinde Stroy'd in dishonor

Cleo. Oh my Lord, my Lord, Forgiue my fearfull sayles, I little thought You would haue followed

Ant. Egypt, thou knew'st too well, My heart was to thy Rudder tyed by'th' strings, And thou should'st towe me after. O're my spirit The full supremacie thou knew'st, and that Thy becke, might from the bidding of the Gods Command mee

Cleo. Oh my pardon

Ant. Now I must To the young man send humble Treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lownes, who With halfe the bulke o'th' world plaid as I pleas'd, Making, and marring Fortunes. You did know How much you were my Conqueror, and that My Sword, made weake by my affection, would Obey it on all cause

Cleo. Pardon, pardon

Ant. Fall not a teare I say, one of them rates All that is wonne and lost: Giue me a kisse, Euen this repayes me. We sent our Schoolemaster, is a come backe? Loue I am full of Lead: some Wine Within there, and our Viands: Fortune knowes, We scorne her most, when most she offers blowes.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, and Dollabello, with others.

Caes Let him appeare that's come from Anthony. Know you him

Dolla. Caesar, 'tis his Schoolemaster, An argument that he is pluckt, when hither He sends so poore a Pinnion of his Wing, Which had superfluous Kings for Messengers, Not many Moones gone by. Enter Ambassador from Anthony.

Caesar. Approach, and speake

Amb. Such as I am, I come from Anthony: I was of late as petty to his ends, As is the Morne-dew on the Mertle leafe To his grand Sea

Caes Bee't so, declare thine office

Amb. Lord of his Fortunes he salutes thee, and Requires to liue in Egypt, which not granted He Lessons his Requests, and to thee sues To let him breath betweene the Heauens and Earth A priuate man in Athens: this for him. Next, Cleopatra does confesse thy Greatnesse, Submits her to thy might, and of thee craues The Circle of the Ptolomies for her heyres, Now hazarded to thy Grace

Caes For Anthony, I haue no eares to his request. The Queene, Of Audience, nor Desire shall faile, so shee From Egypt driue her all-disgraced Friend, Or take his life there. This if shee performe, She shall not sue vnheard. So to them both

Amb. Fortune pursue thee

Caes Bring him through the Bands: To try thy Eloquence, now 'tis time, dispatch, From Anthony winne Cleopatra, promise And in our Name, what she requires, adde more From thine inuention, offers. Women are not In their best Fortunes strong; but want will periure The ne're touch'd Vestall. Try thy cunning Thidias, Make thine owne Edict for thy paines, which we Will answer as a Law

Thid. Caesar. I go

Caesar. Obserue how Anthony becomes his flaw, And what thou think'st his very action speakes In euery power that mooues

Thid. Caesar, I shall.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, & Iras.

Cleo. What shall we do, Enobarbus? Eno. Thinke, and dye

Cleo. Is Anthony, or we in fault for this? Eno. Anthony onely, that would make his will Lord of his Reason. What though you fled, From that great face of Warre, whose seuerall ranges Frighted each other? Why should he follow? The itch of his Affection should not then Haue nickt his Captain-ship, at such a point, When halfe to halfe the world oppos'd, he being The meered question? 'Twas a shame no lesse Then was his losse, to course your flying Flagges, And leaue his Nauy gazing

Cleo. Prythee peace. Enter the Ambassador, with Anthony.

Ant. Is that his answer? Amb. I my Lord

Ant. The Queene shall then haue courtesie, So she will yeeld vs vp

Am. He sayes so

Antho. Let her know't. To the Boy Caesar send this grizled head, and he will fill thy wishes to the brimme, With Principalities

Cleo. That head my Lord? Ant. To him againe, tell him he weares the Rose Of youth vpon him: from which, the world should note Something particular: His Coine, Ships, Legions, May be a Cowards, whose Ministers would preuaile Vnder the seruice of a Childe, as soone As i'th' Command of Caesar. I dare him therefore To lay his gay Comparisons a-part, And answer me declin'd, Sword against Sword, Our selues alone: Ile write it: Follow me

Eno. Yes like enough: hye battel'd Caesar will Vnstate his happinesse, and be Stag'd to'th' shew Against a Sworder. I see mens Iudgements are A parcell of their Fortunes, and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them To suffer all alike, that he should dreame, Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will Answer his emptinesse; Caesar thou hast subdu'de His iudgement too. Enter a Seruant.

Ser. A Messenger from Caesar

Cleo. What no more Ceremony? See my Women, Against the blowne Rose may they stop their nose, That kneel'd vnto the Buds. Admit him sir

Eno. Mine honesty, and I, beginne to square, The Loyalty well held to Fooles, does make Our Faith meere folly: yet he that can endure To follow with Allegeance a falne Lord, Does conquer him that did his Master conquer, And earnes a place i'th' Story. Enter Thidias.

Cleo. Caesars will

Thid. Heare it apart

Cleo. None but Friends: say boldly

Thid. So haply are they Friends to Anthony

Enob. He needs as many (Sir) as Caesar ha's, Or needs not vs. If Caesar please, our Master Will leape to be his Friend: For vs you know, Whose he is, we are, and that is Caesars

Thid. So. Thus then thou most renown'd, Caesar intreats, Not to consider in what case thou stand'st Further then he is Caesars

Cleo. Go on, right Royall

Thid. He knowes that you embrace not Anthony As you did loue, but as you feared him

Cleo. Oh

Thid. The scarre's vpon your Honor, therefore he Does pitty, as constrained blemishes, Not as deserued

Cleo. He is a God, And knowes what is most right. Mine Honour Was not yeelded, but conquer'd meerely

Eno. To be sure of that, I will aske Anthony. Sir, sir, thou art so leakie That we must leaue thee to thy sinking, for Thy deerest quit thee.

Exit Enob.

Thid. Shall I say to Caesar, What you require of him: for he partly begges To be desir'd to giue. It much would please him, That of his Fortunes you should make a staffe To leane vpon. But it would warme his spirits To heare from me you had left Anthony, And put your selfe vnder his shrowd, the vniuersal Landlord

Cleo. What's your name? Thid. My name is Thidias

Cleo. Most kinde Messenger, Say to great Caesar this in disputation, I kisse his conqu'ring hand: Tell him, I am prompt To lay my Crowne at's feete, and there to kneele. Tell him, from his all-obeying breath, I heare The doome of Egypt

Thid. 'Tis your Noblest course: Wisedome and Fortune combatting together, If that the former dare but what it can, No chance may shake it. Giue me grace to lay My dutie on your hand

Cleo. Your Caesars Father oft, (When he hath mus'd of taking kingdomes in) Bestow'd his lips on that vnworthy place, As it rain'd kisses. Enter Anthony and Enobarbus.

Ant. Fauours? By Ioue that thunders. What art thou Fellow? Thid. One that but performes The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest To haue command obey'd

Eno. You will be whipt

Ant. Approch there: ah you Kite. Now Gods & diuels Authority melts from me of late. When I cried hoa, Like Boyes vnto a musse, Kings would start forth, And cry, your will. Haue you no eares? I am Anthony yet. Take hence this Iack, and whip him. Enter a Seruant.

Eno. 'Tis better playing with a Lions whelpe, Then with an old one dying

Ant. Moone and Starres, Whip him: wer't twenty of the greatest Tributaries That do acknowledge Caesar, should I finde them So sawcy with the hand of she heere, what's her name Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him Fellowes, Till like a Boy you see him crindge his face, And whine aloud for mercy. Take him hence

Thid. Marke Anthony

Ant. Tugge him away: being whipt Bring him againe, the Iacke of Caesars shall Beare vs an arrant to him.

Exeunt. with Thidius.

You were halfe blasted ere I knew you: Ha? Haue I my pillow left vnprest in Rome, Forborne the getting of a lawfull Race, And by a Iem of women, to be abus'd By one that lookes on Feeders? Cleo. Good my Lord

Ant. You haue beene a boggeler euer, But when we in our viciousnesse grow hard (Oh misery on't) the wise Gods seele our eyes In our owne filth, drop our cleare iudgements, make vs Adore our errors, laugh at's while we strut To our confusion

Cleo. Oh, is't come to this? Ant. I found you as a Morsell, cold vpon Dead Caesars Trencher: Nay, you were a Fragment Of Gneius Pompeyes, besides what hotter houres Vnregistred in vulgar Fame, you haue Luxuriously pickt out. For I am sure, Though you can guesse what Temperance should be, You know not what it is

Cleo. Wherefore is this? Ant. To let a Fellow that will take rewards, And say, God quit you, be familiar with My play-fellow, your hand; this Kingly Seale, And plighter of high hearts. O that I were Vpon the hill of Basan, to out-roare The horned Heard, for I haue sauage cause, And to proclaime it ciuilly, were like A halter'd necke, which do's the Hangman thanke, For being yare about him. Is he whipt? Enter a Seruant with Thidias.

Ser. Soundly, my Lord

Ant. Cried he? and begg'd a Pardon? Ser. He did aske fauour

Ant. If that thy Father liue, let him repent Thou was't not made his daughter, and be thou sorrie To follow Caesar in his Triumph, since Thou hast bin whipt. For following him, henceforth The white hand of a Lady Feauer thee, Shake thou to looke on't. Get thee backe to Caesar, Tell him thy entertainment: looke thou say He makes me angry with him. For he seemes Proud and disdainfull, harping on what I am, Not what he knew I was. He makes me angry, And at this time most easie 'tis to doo't: When my good Starres, that were my former guides Haue empty left their Orbes, and shot their Fires Into th' Abisme of hell. If he mislike, My speech, and what is done, tell him he has Hiparchus, my enfranched Bondman, whom He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, As he shall like to quit me. Vrge it thou: Hence with thy stripes, be gone.

Exit Thid.

Cleo. Haue you done yet? Ant. Alacke our Terrene Moone is now Eclipst, And it portends alone the fall of Anthony

Cleo. I must stay his time? Ant. To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes With one that tyes his points

Cleo. Not know me yet? Ant. Cold-hearted toward me? Cleo. Ah (Deere) if I be so, From my cold heart let Heauen ingender haile, And poyson it in the sourse, and the first stone Drop in my necke: as it determines so Dissolue my life, the next Caesarian smile, Till by degrees the memory of my wombe, Together with my braue Egyptians all, By the discandering of this pelleted storme, Lye grauelesse, till the Flies and Gnats of Nyle Haue buried them for prey

Ant. I am satisfied: Caesar sets downe in Alexandria, where I will oppose his Fate. Our force by Land, Hath Nobly held, our seuer'd Nauie too Haue knit againe, and Fleete, threatning most Sea-like. Where hast thou bin my heart? Dost thou heare Lady? If from the Field I shall returne once more To kisse these Lips, I will appeare in Blood, I, and my Sword, will earne our Chronicle, There's hope in't yet

Cleo. That's my braue Lord

Ant. I will be trebble-sinewed, hearted, breath'd, And fight maliciously: for when mine houres Were nice and lucky, men did ransome liues Of me for iests: But now, Ile set my teeth, And send to darkenesse all that stop me. Come, Let's haue one other gawdy night: Call to me All my sad Captaines, fill our Bowles once more: Let's mocke the midnight Bell

Cleo. It is my Birth-day, I had thought t'haue held it poore. But since my Lord Is Anthony againe, I will be Cleopatra

Ant. We will yet do well

Cleo. Call all his Noble Captaines to my Lord

Ant. Do so, wee'l speake to them, And to night Ile force The Wine peepe through their scarres. Come on (my Queene) There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight Ile make death loue me: for I will contend Euen with his pestilent Sythe.

Exeunt.

Eno. Now hee'l out-stare the Lightning, to be furious Is to be frighted out of feare, and in that moode The Doue will pecke the Estridge; and I see still A diminution in our Captaines braine, Restores his heart; when valour prayes in reason, It eates the Sword it fights with: I will seeke Some way to leaue him.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, & Mecenas with his Army, Caesar reading a Letter.

Caes He calles me Boy, and chides as he had power To beate me out of Egypt. My Messenger He hath whipt with Rods, dares me to personal Combat. Caesar to Anthony: let the old Ruffian know, I haue many other wayes to dye: meane time Laugh at his Challenge

Mece. Caesar must thinke, When one so great begins to rage, hee's hunted Euen to falling. Giue him no breath, but now Make boote of his distraction: Neuer anger Made good guard for it selfe

Caes Let our best heads know, That to morrow, the last of many Battailes We meane to fight. Within our Files there are, Of those that seru'd Marke Anthony but late, Enough to fetch him in. See it done, And Feast the Army, we haue store to doo't, And they haue earn'd the waste. Poore Anthony.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony, Cleopatra, Enobarbus, Charmian, Iras, Alexas, with others.

Ant. He will not fight with me, Domitian? Eno. No? Ant. Why should he not? Eno. He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, He is twenty men to one

Ant. To morrow Soldier, By Sea and Land Ile fight: or I will liue, Or bathe my dying Honor in the blood Shall make it liue againe. Woo't thou fight well

Eno. Ile strike, and cry, Take all

Ant. Well said, come on: Call forth my Houshold Seruants, lets to night Enter 3 or 4 Seruitors.

Be bounteous at our Meale. Giue me thy hand, Thou hast bin rightly honest, so hast thou, Thou, and thou, and thou: you haue seru'd me well, And Kings haue beene your fellowes

Cleo. What meanes this? Eno. 'Tis one of those odde tricks which sorow shoots Out of the minde

Ant. And thou art honest too: I wish I could be made so many men, And all of you clapt vp together, in An Anthony: that I might do you seruice, So good as you haue done

Omnes. The Gods forbid

Ant. Well, my good Fellowes, wait on me to night: Scant not my Cups, and make as much of me, As when mine Empire was your Fellow too, And suffer'd my command

Cleo. What does he meane? Eno. To make his Followers weepe

Ant. Tend me to night; May be, it is the period of your duty, Haply you shall not see me more, or if, A mangled shadow. Perchance to morrow, You'l serue another Master. I looke on you, As one that takes his leaue. Mine honest Friends, I turne you not away, but like a Master Married to your good seruice, stay till death: Tend me to night two houres, I aske no more, And the Gods yeeld you for't

Eno. What meane you (Sir) To giue them this discomfort? Looke they weepe, And I an Asse, am Onyon-ey'd; for shame, Transforme vs not to women

Ant. Ho, ho, ho: Now the Witch take me, if I meant it thus. Grace grow where those drops fall (my hearty Friends) You take me in too dolorous a sense, For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire you To burne this night with Torches: Know (my hearts) I hope well of to morrow, and will leade you, Where rather Ile expect victorious life, Then death, and Honor. Let's to Supper, come, And drowne consideration.

Exeunt.

Enter a Company of Soldiours.

1.Sol. Brother, goodnight: to morrow is the day

2.Sol. It will determine one way: Fare you well. Heard you of nothing strange about the streets

1 Nothing: what newes? 2 Belike 'tis but a Rumour, good night to you

1 Well sir, good night.

They meete other Soldiers.

2 Souldiers, haue carefull Watch

1 And you: Goodnight, goodnight.

They place themselues in euery corner of the Stage.

2 Heere we: and if to morrow Our Nauie thriue, I haue an absolute hope Our Landmen will stand vp

1 'Tis a braue Army, and full of purpose.

Musicke of the Hoboyes is vnder the Stage.

2 Peace, what noise? 1 List, list

2 Hearke

1 Musicke i'th' Ayre

3 Vnder the earth

4 It signes well, do's it not? 3 No

1 Peace I say: What should this meane? 2 'Tis the God Hercules, whom Anthony loued, Now leaues him

1 Walke, let's see if other Watchmen Do heare what we do? 2 How now Maisters?

Speak together.

Omnes. How now? how now? do you heare this? 1 I, is't not strange? 3 Do you heare Masters? Do you heare? 1 Follow the noyse so farre as we haue quarter. Let's see how it will giue off

Omnes. Content: 'Tis strange.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony and Cleopatra, with others.

Ant. Eros, mine Armour Eros

Cleo. Sleepe a little

Ant. No my Chucke. Eros, come mine Armor Eros. Enter Eros.

Come good Fellow, put thine Iron on, If Fortune be not ours to day, it is Because we braue her. Come

Cleo. Nay, Ile helpe too, Anthony. What's this for? Ah let be, let be, thou art The Armourer of my heart: False, false: This, this, Sooth-law Ile helpe: Thus it must bee

Ant. Well, well, we shall thriue now. Seest thou my good Fellow. Go, put on thy defences

Eros. Briefely Sir

Cleo. Is not this buckled well? Ant. Rarely, rarely: He that vnbuckles this, till we do please To daft for our Repose, shall heare a storme. Thou fumblest Eros, and my Queenes a Squire More tight at this, then thou: Dispatch. O Loue, That thou couldst see my Warres to day, and knew'st The Royall Occupation, thou should'st see A Workeman in't. Enter an Armed Soldier.

Good morrow to thee, welcome, Thou look'st like him that knowes a warlike Charge: To businesse that we loue, we rise betime, And go too't with delight

Soul. A thousand Sir, early though't be, haue on their Riueted trim, and at the Port expect you.

Showt. Trumpets Flourish. Enter Captaines, and Souldiers.

Alex. The Morne is faire: Good morrow Generall

All. Good morrow Generall

Ant. 'Tis well blowne Lads. This Morning, like the spirit of a youth That meanes to be of note, begins betimes. So, so: Come giue me that, this way, well-sed. Fare thee well Dame, what ere becomes of me, This is a Soldiers kisse: rebukeable, And worthy shamefull checke it were, to stand On more Mechanicke Complement, Ile leaue thee. Now like a man of Steele, you that will fight, Follow me close, Ile bring you too't: Adieu.

Exeunt.

Char. Please you retyre to your Chamber? Cleo. Lead me: He goes forth gallantly: That he and Caesar might Determine this great Warre in single fight; Then Anthony; but now. Well on.

Exeunt.

Trumpets sound. Enter Anthony, and Eros.

Eros. The Gods make this a happy day to Anthony

Ant. Would thou, & those thy scars had once preuaild To make me fight at Land

Eros. Had'st thou done so, The Kings that haue reuolted, and the Soldier That has this morning left thee, would haue still Followed thy heeles

Ant. Whose gone this morning? Eros. Who? one euer neere thee, call for Enobarbus, He shall not heare thee, or from Caesars Campe, Say I am none of thine

Ant. What sayest thou? Sold. Sir he is with Caesar

Eros. Sir, his Chests and Treasure he has not with him

Ant. Is he gone? Sol. Most certaine

Ant. Go Eros, send his Treasure after, do it, Detaine no iot I charge thee: write to him, (I will subscribe) gentle adieu's, and greetings; Say, that I wish he neuer finde more cause To change a Master. Oh my Fortunes haue Corrupted honest men. Dispatch Enobarbus.

Exit

Flourish. Enter Agrippa, Caesar, with Enobarbus, and Dollabella.

Caes Go forth Agrippa, and begin the fight: Our will is Anthony be tooke aliue: Make it so knowne

Agrip. Caesar, I shall

Caesar. The time of vniuersall peace is neere: Proue this a prosp'rous day, the three nook'd world Shall beare the Oliue freely.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Anthony is come into the Field

Caes Go charge Agrippa, Plant those that haue reuolted in the Vant, That Anthony may seeme to spend his Fury Vpon himselfe.

Exeunt.

Enob. Alexas did reuolt, and went to Iewry on Affaires of Anthony, there did disswade Great Herod to incline himselfe to Caesar, And leaue his Master Anthony. For this paines, Caesar hath hang'd him: Camindius and the rest That fell away, haue entertainment, but No honourable trust: I haue done ill, Of which I do accuse my selfe so sorely, That I will ioy no more.

Enter a Soldier of Caesars.

Sol. Enobarbus, Anthony Hath after thee sent all thy Treasure, with His Bounty ouer-plus. The Messenger Came on my guard, and at thy Tent is now Vnloading of his Mules

Eno. I giue it you

Sol. Mocke not Enobarbus, I tell you true: Best you saf't the bringer Out of the hoast, I must attend mine Office, Or would haue done't my selfe. Your Emperor Continues still a Ioue.

Exit

Enob. I am alone the Villaine of the earth, And feele I am so most. Oh Anthony, Thou Mine of Bounty, how would'st thou haue payed My better seruice, when my turpitude Thou dost so Crowne with Gold. This blowes my hart, If swift thought breake it not: a swifter meane Shall out-strike thought, but thought will doo't. I feele I fight against thee: No I will go seeke Some Ditch, wherein to dye: the foul'st best fits My latter part of life.

Enter.

Alarum, Drummes and Trumpets. Enter Agrippa.

Agrip. Retire, we haue engag'd our selues too farre: Caesar himselfe ha's worke, and our oppression Exceeds what we expected.

Enter.

Alarums. Enter Anthony, and Scarrus wounded.

Scar. O my braue Emperor, this is fought indeed, Had we done so at first, we had drouen them home With clowts about their heads.

Far off.

Ant. Thou bleed'st apace

Scar. I had a wound heere that was like a T, But now 'tis made an H

Ant. They do retyre

Scar. Wee'l beat 'em into Bench-holes, I haue yet Roome for six scotches more

Enter Eros.

Eros. They are beaten Sir, and our aduantage serues For a faire victory

Scar. Let vs score their backes, And snatch 'em vp, as we take Hares behinde, 'Tis sport to maul a Runner

Ant. I will reward thee Once for thy sprightly comfort, and ten-fold For thy good valour. Come thee on

Scar. Ile halt after.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Anthony againe in a March. Scarrus, with others.

Ant. We haue beate him to his Campe: Runne one Before, & let the Queen know of our guests: to morrow Before the Sun shall see's, wee'l spill the blood That ha's to day escap'd. I thanke you all, For doughty handed are you, and haue fought Not as you seru'd the Cause, but as't had beene Each mans like mine: you haue shewne all Hectors. Enter the Citty, clip your Wiues, your Friends, Tell them your feats, whil'st they with ioyfull teares Wash the congealement from your wounds, and kisse The Honour'd-gashes whole. Enter Cleopatra.

Giue me thy hand, To this great Faiery, Ile commend thy acts, Make her thankes blesse thee. Oh thou day o'th' world, Chaine mine arm'd necke, leape thou, Attyre and all Through proofe of Harnesse to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing

Cleo. Lord of Lords. Oh infinite Vertue, comm'st thou smiling from The worlds great snare vncaught

Ant. Mine Nightingale, We haue beate them to their Beds. What Gyrle, though gray Do somthing mingle with our yonger brown, yet ha we A Braine that nourishes our Nerues, and can Get gole for gole of youth. Behold this man, Commend vnto his Lippes thy fauouring hand, Kisse it my Warriour: He hath fought to day, As if a God in hate of Mankinde, had Destroyed in such a shape

Cleo. Ile giue thee Friend An Armour all of Gold: it was a Kings

Ant. He has deseru'd it, were it Carbunkled Like holy Phoebus Carre. Giue me thy hand, Through Alexandria make a iolly March, Beare our hackt Targets, like the men that owe them. Had our great Pallace the capacity To Campe this hoast, we all would sup together, And drinke Carowses to the next dayes Fate Which promises Royall perill, Trumpetters With brazen dinne blast you the Citties eare, Make mingle with our ratling Tabourines, That heauen and earth may strike their sounds together, Applauding our approach.

Exeunt.

Enter a Centerie, and his Company, Enobarbus followes.

Cent. If we be not releeu'd within this houre, We must returne to'th' Court of Guard: the night Is shiny, and they say, we shall embattaile By'th' second houre i'th' Morne

1.Watch. This last day was a shrew'd one too's

Enob. Oh beare me witnesse night

2 What man is this? 1 Stand close, and list him

Enob. Be witnesse to me (O thou blessed Moone) When men reuolted shall vpon Record Beare hatefull memory: poore Enobarbus did Before thy face repent

Cent. Enobarbus? 2 Peace: Hearke further

Enob. Oh Soueraigne Mistris of true Melancholly, The poysonous dampe of night dispunge vpon me, That Life, a very Rebell to my will, May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart Against the flint and hardnesse of my fault, Which being dried with greefe, will breake to powder, And finish all foule thoughts. Oh Anthony, Nobler then my reuolt is Infamous, Forgiue me in thine owne particular, But let the world ranke me in Register A Master leauer, and a fugitiue: Oh Anthony! Oh Anthony! 1 Let's speake to him

Cent. Let's heare him, for the things he speakes May concerne Caesar

2 Let's do so; but he sleepes

Cent. Swoonds rather, for so bad a Prayer as his Was neuer yet for sleepe

1 Go we to him

2 Awake sir, awake, speake to vs

1 Heare you sir? Cent. The hand of death hath raught him.

Drummes afarre off.

Hearke the Drummes demurely wake the sleepers: Let vs beare him to'th' Court of Guard: he is of note: Our houre is fully out

2 Come on then, he may recouer yet.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony and Scarrus, with their Army.

Ant. Their preparation is to day by Sea, We please them not by Land

Scar. For both, my Lord

Ant. I would they'ld fight i'th' Fire, or i'th' Ayre, Wee'ld fight there too. But this it is, our Foote Vpon the hilles adioyning to the Citty Shall stay with vs. Order for Sea is giuen, They haue put forth the Hauen: Where their appointment we may best discouer, And looke on their endeuour.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, and his Army.

Caes But being charg'd, we will be still by Land, Which as I tak't we shall, for his best force Is forth to Man his Gallies. To the Vales, And hold our best aduantage.

Exeunt.

Alarum afarre off, as at a Sea-fight. Enter Anthony, and Scarrus.

Ant. Yet they are not ioyn'd: Where yon'd Pine does stand, I shall discouer all. Ile bring thee word straight, how 'tis like to go. Enter.

Scar. Swallowes haue built In Cleopatra's Sailes their nests. The Auguries Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly, And dare not speake their knowledge. Anthony, Is valiant, and deiected, and by starts His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare Of what he has, and has not. Enter Anthony.

Ant. All is lost: This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me: My Fleete hath yeelded to the Foe, and yonder They cast their Caps vp, and Carowse together Like Friends long lost. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thou Hast sold me to this Nouice, and my heart Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye: For when I am reueng'd vpon my Charme, I haue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone. Oh Sunne, thy vprise shall I see no more, Fortune, and Anthony part heere, euen heere Do we shake hands? All come to this? The hearts That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue Their wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweets On blossoming Caesar: And this Pine is barkt, That ouer-top'd them all. Betray'd I am. Oh this false Soule of Egypt! this graue Charme, Whose eye beck'd forth my Wars, & cal'd them home: Whose Bosome was my Crownet, my chiefe end, Like a right Gypsie, hath at fast and loose Beguil'd me, to the very heart of losse. What Eros, Eros? Enter Cleopatra.

Ah, thou Spell! Auaunt

Cleo. Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Loue? Ant. Vanish, or I shall giue thee thy deseruing, And blemish Caesars Triumph. Let him take thee, And hoist thee vp to the shouting Plebeians, Follow his Chariot, like the greatest spot Of all thy Sex. Most Monster-like be shewne For poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let Patient Octauia, plough thy visage vp With her prepared nailes.

exit Cleopatra.

'Tis well th'art gone, If it be well to liue. But better 'twere Thou fell'st into my furie, for one death Might haue preuented many. Eros, hoa! The shirt of Nessus is vpon me, teach me Alcides, thou mine Ancestor, thy rage. Let me lodge Licas on the hornes o'th' Moone, And with those hands that graspt the heauiest Club, Subdue my worthiest selfe: The Witch shall die, To the young Roman Boy she hath sold me, and I fall Vnder this plot: She dyes for't. Eros hoa? Enter.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Mardian.

Cleo. Helpe me my women: Oh hee's more mad Then Telamon for his Shield, the Boare of Thessaly Was neuer so imbost

Char. To'th' Monument, there locke your selfe, And send him word you are dead: The Soule and Body riue not more in parting, Then greatnesse going off

Cleo. To'th' Monument: Mardian, go tell him I haue slaine my selfe: Say, that the last I spoke was Anthony, And word it (prythee) pitteously. Hence Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death to'th' Monument.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony, and Eros.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me? Eros. I Noble Lord

Ant. Sometime we see a clowd that's Dragonish, A vapour sometime, like a Beare, or Lyon, A toward Cittadell, a pendant Rocke, A forked Mountaine, or blew Promontorie With Trees vpon't, that nodde vnto the world, And mocke our eyes with Ayre. Thou hast seene these Signes, They are blacke Vespers Pageants

Eros. I my Lord

Ant. That which is now a Horse, euen with a thoght the Racke dislimes, and makes it indistinct As water is in water

Eros. It does my Lord

Ant. My good Knaue Eros, now thy Captaine is Euen such a body: Heere I am Anthony, Yet cannot hold this visible shape (my Knaue) I made these warres for Egypt, and the Queene, Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine: Which whil'st it was mine, had annext vntoo't A Million moe, (now lost:) shee Eros has Packt Cards with Caesars, and false plaid my Glory Vnto an Enemies triumph. Nay, weepe not gentle Eros, there is left vs Our selues to end our selues. Enter Mardian.

Oh thy vilde Lady, she has rob'd me of my Sword

Mar. No Anthony, My Mistris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled with thine intirely

Ant. Hence sawcy Eunuch peace, she hath betraid me, And shall dye the death

Mar. Death of one person, can be paide but once, And that she ha's discharg'd. What thou would'st do Is done vnto thy hand: the last she spake Was Anthony, most Noble Anthony. Then in the midd'st a tearing grone did breake The name of Anthony: it was diuided Betweene her heart, and lips: she tendred life Thy name so buried in her

Ant. Dead then? Mar. Dead

Ant. Vnarme Eros, the long dayes taske is done, And we must sleepe: That thou depart'st hence safe Does pay thy labour richly: Go.

exit Mardian.

Off, plucke off, The seuen-fold shield of Aiax cannot keepe The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my sides. Heart, once be stronger then thy Continent, Cracke thy fraile Case. Apace Eros, apace; No more a Soldier: bruised peeces go, You haue bin Nobly borne. From me awhile.

exit Eros

I will o're-take thee Cleopatra, and Weepe for my pardon. So it must be, for now All length is Torture: since the Torch is out, Lye downe and stray no farther. Now all labour Marres what it does: yea, very force entangles It selfe with strength: Seale then and all is done. Eros? I come my Queene. Eros? Stay for me, Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand, And with our sprightly Port make the Ghostes gaze: Dido, and her Aeneas shall want Troopes, And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros, Eros. Enter Eros.

Eros. What would my Lord? Ant. Since Cleopatra dyed, I haue liu'd in such dishonour, that the Gods Detest my basenesse. I, that with my Sword, Quarter'd the World, and o're greene Neptunes backe With Ships, made Cities; condemne my selfe, to lacke The Courage of a Woman, lesse Noble minde Then she which by her death, our Caesar telles I am Conqueror of my selfe. Thou art sworne Eros, That when the exigent should come, which now Is come indeed: When I should see behinde me Th' ineuitable prosecution of disgrace and horror, That on my command, thou then would'st kill me. Doo't, the time is come: Thou strik'st not me, 'Tis Caesar thou defeat'st. Put colour in thy Cheeke

Eros. The Gods with-hold me, Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts, (Though Enemy) lost ayme, and could not

Ant. Eros, Would'st thou be window'd in great Rome, and see Thy Master thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe His corrigible necke, his face subdu'de To penetratiue shame; whil'st the wheel'd seate Of Fortunate Caesar drawne before him, branded His Basenesse that ensued

Eros. I would not see't

Ant. Come then: for with a wound I must be cur'd. Draw that thy honest Sword, which thou hast worne Most vsefull for thy Country

Eros. Oh sir, pardon me

Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st y not then To do this when I bad thee? Do it at once, Or thy precedent Seruices are all But accidents vnpurpos'd. Draw, and come

Eros. Turne from me then that Noble countenance, Wherein the worship of the whole world lyes

Ant. Loe thee

Eros. My sword is drawne

Ant. Then let it do at once The thing why thou hast drawne it

Eros. My deere Master, My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me say Before I strike this bloody stroke, Farwell

Ant. 'Tis said man, and farewell

Eros. Farewell great Chiefe. Shall I strike now? Ant. Now Eros.

Killes himselfe.

Eros. Why there then: Thus I do escape the sorrow of Anthonies death

Ant. Thrice-Nobler then my selfe, Thou teachest me: Oh valiant Eros, what I should, and thou could'st not, my Queene and Eros Haue by their braue instruction got vpon me A Noblenesse in Record. But I will bee A Bride-groome in my death, and run intoo't As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros, Thy Master dies thy Scholler; to do thus I learnt of thee. How, not dead? Not dead? The Guard, how? Oh dispatch me. Enter a Guard.

1.Guard. What's the noise? Ant. I haue done my worke ill Friends: Oh make an end of what I haue begun

2 The Starre is falne

1 And time is at his Period

All. Alas, and woe

Ant. Let him that loues me, strike me dead

1 Not I

2 Nor I

3 Nor any one.

Exeunt.

Decretus. Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly This sword but shewne to Caesar with this tydings, Shall enter me with him. Enter Diomedes.

Dio. Where's Anthony? Decre. There Diomed there

Diom. Liues he: wilt thou not answer man? Ant. Art thou there Diomed? Draw thy sword, and giue mee, Suffising strokes for death

Diom. Most absolute Lord: My Mistris Cleopatra sent me to thee

Ant. When did shee send thee? Diom. Now my Lord

Anth. Where is she? Diom. Lockt in her Monument: she had a Prophesying feare Of what hath come to passe: for when she saw (Which neuer shall be found) you did suspect She had dispos'd with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purg'd, she sent you word she was dead: But fearing since how it might worke, hath sent Me to proclaime the truth, and I am come I dread, too late

Ant. Too late good Diomed: call my Guard I prythee

Dio. What hoa: the Emperors Guard, The Guard, what hoa? Come, your Lord calles. Enter 4. or 5. of the Guard of Anthony.

Ant. Beare me good Friends where Cleopatra bides, 'Tis the last seruice that I shall command you

1 Woe, woe are we sir, you may not liue to weare All your true Followers out

All. Most heauy day

Ant. Nay good my Fellowes, do not please sharp fate To grace it with your sorrowes. Bid that welcome Which comes to punish vs, and we punish it Seeming to beare it lightly. Take me vp, I haue led you oft, carry me now good Friends, And haue my thankes for all.

Exit bearing Anthony

Enter Cleopatra, and her Maides aloft, with Charmian & Iras.

Cleo. Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence

Char. Be comforted deere Madam

Cleo. No, I will not: All strange and terrible euents are welcome, But comforts we dispise; our size of sorrow Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it. Enter Diomed.

How now? is he dead? Diom. His death's vpon him, but not dead. Looke out o'th other side your Monument, His Guard haue brought him thither. Enter Anthony, and the Guard.

Cleo. Oh Sunne, Burne the great Sphere thou mou'st in, darkling stand The varrying shore o'th' world. O Antony, Antony, Antony Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe: helpe Friends Below, let's draw him hither

Ant. Peace, Not Caesars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony, But Anthonie's hath Triumpht on it selfe

Cleo. So it should be, That none but Anthony should conquer Anthony, But woe 'tis so

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying; onely I heere importune death a-while, vntill Of many thousand kisses, the poore last I lay vpon thy lippes

Cleo. I dare not Deere, Deere my Lord pardon: I dare not, Least I be taken: nor th' Imperious shew Of the full-Fortun'd Caesar, euer shall Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue Edge, sting, or operation. I am safe: Your Wife Octauia, with her modest eyes, And still Conclusion, shall acquire no Honour Demuring vpon me: but come, come Anthony, Helpe me my women, we must draw thee vp: Assist good Friends

Ant. Oh quicke, or I am gone

Cleo. Heere's sport indeede: How heauy weighes my Lord? Our strength is all gone into heauinesse, That makes the waight. Had I great Iuno's power, The strong wing'd Mercury should fetch thee vp, And set thee by Ioues side. Yet come a little, Wishers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come,

They heaue Anthony aloft to Cleopatra.

And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou hast liu'd, Quicken with kissing: had my lippes that power, Thus would I weare them out

All. A heauy sight

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying. Giue me some Wine, and let me speake a little

Cleo. No, let me speake, and let me rayle so hye, That the false Huswife Fortune, breake her Wheele, Prouok'd by my offence

Ant. One word (sweet Queene) Of Caesar seeke your Honour, with your safety. Oh

Cleo. They do not go together

Ant. Gentle heare me, None about Caesar trust, but Proculeius

Cleo. My Resolution, and my hands, Ile trust, None about Caesar

Ant. The miserable change now at my end, Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts In feeding them with those my former Fortunes Wherein I liued. The greatest Prince o'th' world, The Noblest: and do now not basely dye, Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my Spirit is going, I can no more

Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't dye? Hast thou no care of me, shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better then a Stye? Oh see my women: The Crowne o'th' earth doth melt. My Lord? Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre, The Souldiers pole is falne: young Boyes and Gyrles Are leuell now with men: The oddes is gone, And there is nothing left remarkeable Beneath the visiting Moone

Char. Oh quietnesse, Lady

Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne

Char. Lady

Iras. Madam

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam

Iras. Royall Egypt: Empresse

Char. Peace, peace, Iras

Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded By such poore passion, as the Maid that Milkes, And doe's the meanest chares. It were for me, To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods, To tell them that this World did equall theyrs, Till they had stolne our Iewell. All's but naught: Patience is sortish, and impatience does Become a Dogge that's mad: Then is it sinne, To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women? What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian? My Noble Gyrles? Ah Women, women! Looke Our Lampe is spent, it's out. Good sirs, take heart, Wee'l bury him: And then, what's braue, what's Noble, Let's doo't after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take vs. Come, away, This case of that huge Spirit now is cold. Ah Women, Women! Come, we haue no Friend But Resolution, and the breefest end.

Exeunt., bearing of Anthonies body.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with his Counsell of Warre.

Caesar. Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld, Being so frustrate, tell him, He mockes the pawses that he makes

Dol. Caesar, I shall. Enter Decretas with the sword of Anthony.

Caes Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'st Appeare thus to vs? Dec. I am call'd Decretas, Marke Anthony I seru'd, who best was worthie Best to be seru'd: whil'st he stood vp, and spoke He was my Master, and I wore my life To spend vpon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him, Ile be to Caesar: if y pleasest not, I yeild thee vp my life

Caesar. What is't thou say'st? Dec. I say (Oh Caesar) Anthony is dead

Caesar. The breaking of so great a thing, should make A greater cracke. The round World Should haue shooke Lyons into ciuill streets, And Cittizens to their dennes. The death of Anthony Is not a single doome, in the name lay A moity of the world

Dec. He is dead Caesar, Not by a publike minister of Iustice, Nor by a hyred Knife, but that selfe-hand Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did, Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his Sword, I robb'd his wound of it: behold it stain'd With his most Noble blood

Caes Looke you sad Friends, The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings To wash the eyes of Kings

Dol. And strange it is, That Nature must compell vs to lament Our most persisted deeds

Mec. His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him

Dola. A Rarer spirit neuer Did steere humanity: but you Gods will giue vs Some faults to make vs men. Caesar is touch'd

Mec. When such a spacious Mirror's set before him, He needes must see him selfe

Caesar. Oh Anthony, I haue followed thee to this, but we do launch Diseases in our Bodies. I must perforce Haue shewne to thee such a declining day, Or looke on thine: we could not stall together, In the whole world. But yet let me lament With teares as Soueraigne as the blood of hearts, That thou my Brother, my Competitor, In top of all designe; my Mate in Empire, Friend and Companion in the front of Warre, The Arme of mine owne Body, and the Heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle; that our Starres Vnreconciliable, should diuide our equalnesse to this. Heare me good Friends, But I will tell you at some meeter Season, The businesse of this man lookes out of him, Wee'l heare him what he sayes. Enter an aegyptian.

Whence are you? aegyp. A poore Egyptian yet, the Queen my mistris Confin'd in all, she has her Monument Of thy intents, desires, instruction, That she preparedly may frame her selfe To'th' way shee's forc'd too

Caesar. Bid her haue good heart, She soone shall know of vs, by some of ours, How honourable, and how kindely Wee Determine for her. For Caesar cannot leaue to be vngentle aegypt. So the Gods preserue thee. Enter.

Caes Come hither Proculeius. Go and say We purpose her no shame: giue her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require; Least in her greatnesse, by some mortall stroke She do defeate vs. For her life in Rome, Would be eternall in our Triumph: Go, And with your speediest bring vs what she sayes, And how you finde of her

Pro. Caesar I shall.

Exit Proculeius.

Caes Gallus, go you along: where's Dolabella, to second Proculeius? All. Dolabella

Caes Let him alone: for I remember now How hee's imployd: he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my Tent, where you shall see How hardly I was drawne into this Warre, How calme and gentle I proceeded still In all my Writings. Go with me, and see What I can shew in this.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.

Cleo. My desolation does begin to make A better life: Tis paltry to be Caesar: Not being Fortune, hee's but Fortunes knaue, A minister of her will: and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accedents, and bolts vp change; Which sleepes, and neuer pallates more the dung, The beggers Nurse, and Caesars. Enter Proculeius.

Pro. Caesar sends greeting to the Queene of Egypt, And bids thee study on what faire demands Thou mean'st to haue him grant thee

Cleo. What's thy name? Pro. My name is Proculeius

Cleo. Anthony Did tell me of you, bad me trust you, but I do not greatly care to be deceiu'd That haue no vse for trusting. If your Master Would haue a Queene his begger, you must tell him, That Maiesty to keepe decorum, must No lesse begge then a Kingdome: If he please To giue me conquer'd Egypt for my Sonne, He giues me so much of mine owne, as I Will kneele to him with thankes

Pro. Be of good cheere: Y'are falne into a Princely hand, feare nothing, Make your full reference freely to my Lord, Who is so full of Grace, that it flowes ouer On all that neede. Let me report to him Your sweet dependancie, and you shall finde A Conqueror that will pray in ayde for kindnesse, Where he for grace is kneel'd too

Cleo. Pray you tell him, I am his Fortunes Vassall, and I send him The Greatnesse he has got. I hourely learne A Doctrine of Obedience, and would gladly Looke him i'th' Face

Pro. This Ile report (deere Lady) Haue comfort, for I know your plight is pittied Of him that caus'd it

Pro. You see how easily she may be surpriz'd: Guard her till Caesar come

Iras. Royall Queene

Char. Oh Cleopatra, thou art taken Queene

Cleo. Quicke, quicke, good hands

Pro. Hold worthy Lady, hold: Doe not your selfe such wrong, who are in this Releeu'd, but not betraid

Cleo. What of death too that rids our dogs of languish Pro. Cleopatra, do not abuse my Masters bounty, by Th' vndoing of your selfe: Let the World see His Noblenesse well acted, which your death Will neuer let come forth

Cleo. Where art thou Death? Come hither come; Come, come, and take a Queene Worth many Babes and Beggers

Pro. Oh temperance Lady

Cleo. Sir, I will eate no meate, Ile not drinke sir, If idle talke will once be necessary Ile not sleepe neither. This mortall house Ile ruine, Do Caesar what he can. Know sir, that I Will not waite pinnion'd at your Masters Court, Nor once be chastic'd with the sober eye Of dull Octauia. Shall they hoyst me vp, And shew me to the showting Varlotarie Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt. Be gentle graue vnto me, rather on Nylus mudde Lay me starke-nak'd, and let the water-Flies Blow me into abhorring; rather make My Countries high pyramides my Gibbet, And hang me vp in Chaines

Pro. You do extend These thoughts of horror further then you shall Finde cause in Caesar. Enter Dolabella.

Dol. Proculeius, What thou hast done, thy Master Caesar knowes, And he hath sent for thee: for the Queene, Ile take her to my Guard

Pro. So Dolabella, It shall content me best: Be gentle to her, To Caesar I will speake, what you shall please, If you'l imploy me to him.

Exit Proculeius

Cleo. Say, I would dye

Dol. Most Noble Empresse, you haue heard of me

Cleo. I cannot tell

Dol. Assuredly you know me

Cleo. No matter sir, what I haue heard or knowne: You laugh when Boyes or Women tell their Dreames, Is't not your tricke? Dol. I vnderstand not, Madam

Cleo. I dreampt there was an Emperor Anthony. Oh such another sleepe, that I might see But such another man

Dol. If it might please ye

Cleo. His face was as the Heau'ns, and therein stucke A Sunne and Moone, which kept their course, & lighted The little o'th' earth

Dol. Most Soueraigne Creature

Cleo. His legges bestrid the Ocean, his rear'd arme Crested the world: His voyce was propertied As all the tuned Spheres, and that to Friends: But when he meant to quaile, and shake the Orbe, He was as ratling Thunder. For his Bounty, There was no winter in't. An Anthony it was, That grew the more by reaping: His delights Were Dolphin-like, they shew'd his backe aboue The Element they liu'd in: In his Liuery Walk'd Crownes and Crownets: Realms & Islands were As plates dropt from his pocket

Dol. Cleopatra

Cleo. Thinke you there was, or might be such a man As this I dreampt of? Dol. Gentle Madam, no

Cleo. You Lye vp to the hearing of the Gods: But if there be, not euer were one such It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuffe To vie strange formes with fancie, yet t' imagine An Anthony were Natures peece, 'gainst Fancie, Condemning shadowes quite

Dol. Heare me, good Madam: Your losse is as your selfe, great; and you beare it As answering to the waight, would I might neuer Ore-take pursu'de successe: But I do feele By the rebound of yours, a greefe that suites My very heart at roote

Cleo. I thanke you sir: Know you what Caesar meanes to do with me? Dol. I am loath to tell you what, I would you knew

Cleo. Nay pray you sir

Dol. Though he be Honourable

Cleo. Hee'l leade me then in Triumph

Dol. Madam he will, I know't.

Flourish.

Enter Proculeius, Caesar, Gallus, Mecenas, and others of his Traine.

All. Make way there Caesar

Caes Which is the Queene of Egypt

Dol. It is the Emperor Madam.

Cleo. kneeles.

Caesar. Arise, you shall not kneele: I pray you rise, rise Egypt

Cleo. Sir, the Gods will haue it thus, My Master and my Lord I must obey, Caesar. Take to you no hard thoughts, The Record of what iniuries you did vs, Though written in our flesh, we shall remember As things but done by chance

Cleo. Sole Sir o'th' World, I cannot proiect mine owne cause so well To make it cleare, but do confesse I haue Bene laden with like frailties, which before Haue often sham'd our Sex

Caesar. Cleopatra know, We will extenuate rather then inforce: If you apply your selfe to our intents, Which towards you are most gentle, you shall finde A benefit in this change: but if you seeke To lay on me a Cruelty, by taking Anthonies course, you shall bereaue your selfe Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which Ile guard them from, If thereon you relye. Ile take my leaue

Cleo. And may through all the world: tis yours, & we your Scutcheons, and your signes of Conquest shall Hang in what place you please. Here my good Lord

Caesar. You shall aduise me in all for Cleopatra

Cleo. This is the breefe: of Money, Plate, & Iewels I am possest of, 'tis exactly valewed, Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? Seleu. Heere Madam

Cleo. This is my Treasurer, let him speake (my Lord) Vpon his perill, that I haue reseru'd To my selfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus

Seleu. Madam, I had rather seele my lippes, Then to my perill speake that which is not

Cleo. What haue I kept backe

Sel. Enough to purchase what you haue made known Caesar. Nay blush not Cleopatra, I approue Your Wisedome in the deede

Cleo. See Caesar: Oh behold, How pompe is followed: Mine will now be yours, And should we shift estates, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus, does Euen make me wilde. Oh Slaue, of no more trust Then loue that's hyr'd? What goest thou backe, y shalt Go backe I warrant thee: but Ile catch thine eyes Though they had wings. Slaue, Soule-lesse, Villain, Dog. O rarely base! Caesar. Good Queene, let vs intreat you

Cleo. O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, That thou vouchsafing heere to visit me, Doing the Honour of thy Lordlinesse To one so meeke, that mine owne Seruant should Parcell the summe of my disgraces, by Addition of his Enuy. Say (good Caesar) That I some Lady trifles haue reseru'd, Immoment toyes, things of such Dignitie As we greet moderne Friends withall, and say Some Nobler token I haue kept apart For Liuia and Octauia, to induce Their mediation, must I be vnfolded With one that I haue bred: The Gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I haue. Prythee go hence, Or I shall shew the Cynders of my spirits Through th' Ashes of my chance: Wer't thou a man, Thou would'st haue mercy on me

Caesar. Forbeare Seleucus

Cleo. Be it known, that we the greatest are mis-thoght For things that others do: and when we fall, We answer others merits, in our name Are therefore to be pittied

Caesar. Cleopatra, Not what you haue reseru'd, nor what acknowledg'd Put we i'th' Roll of Conquest: still bee't yours, Bestow it at your pleasure, and beleeue Caesars no Merchant, to make prize with you Of things that Merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd, Make not your thoughts your prisons: No deere Queen, For we intend so to dispose you, as Your selfe shall giue vs counsell: Feede, and sleepe: Our care and pitty is so much vpon you, That we remaine your Friend, and so adieu

Cleo. My Master, and my Lord

Caesar. Not so: Adieu.

Flourish. Exeunt Caesar, and his Traine.

Cleo. He words me Gyrles, he words me, That I should not be Noble to my selfe. But hearke thee Charmian

Iras. Finish good Lady, the bright day is done, And we are for the darke

Cleo. Hye thee againe, I haue spoke already, and it is prouided, Go put it to the haste

Char. Madam, I will. Enter Dolabella.

Dol. Where's the Queene? Char. Behold sir

Cleo. Dolabella

Dol. Madam, as thereto sworne, by your command (Which my loue makes Religion to obey) I tell you this: Caesar through Syria Intends his iourney, and within three dayes, You with your Children will he send before, Make your best vse of this. I haue perform'd Your pleasure, and my promise

Cleo. Dolabella, I shall remaine your debter

Dol. I your Seruant: Adieu good Queene, I must attend on Caesar.

Exit

Cleo. Farewell, and thankes. Now Iras, what think'st thou? Thou, an Egyptian Puppet shall be shewne In Rome aswell as I: Mechanicke Slaues With greazie Aprons, Rules, and Hammers shall Vplift vs to the view. In their thicke breathes, Ranke of grosse dyet, shall we be enclowded, And forc'd to drinke their vapour

Iras. The Gods forbid

Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certaine Iras: sawcie Lictors Will catch at vs like Strumpets, and scald Rimers Ballads vs out a Tune. The quicke Comedians Extemporally will stage vs, and present Our Alexandrian Reuels: Anthony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra Boy my greatnesse I'th' posture of a Whore

Iras. O the good Gods! Cleo. Nay that's certaine

Iras. Ile neuer see't? for I am sure mine Nailes Are stronger then mine eyes

Cleo. Why that's the way to foole their preparation, And to conquer their most absurd intents. Enter Charmian.

Now Charmian. Shew me my Women like a Queene: Go fetch My best Attyres. I am againe for Cidrus, To meete Marke Anthony. Sirra Iras, go (Now Noble Charmian, wee'l dispatch indeede,) And when thou hast done this chare, Ile giue thee leaue To play till Doomesday: bring our Crowne, and all.

A noise within.

Wherefore's this noise? Enter a Guardsman.

Gards. Heere is a rurall Fellow, That will not be deny'de your Highnesse presence, He brings you Figges

Cleo. Let him come in.

Exit Guardsman.

What poore an Instrument May do a Noble deede: he brings me liberty: My Resolution's plac'd, and I haue nothing Of woman in me: Now from head to foote I am Marble constant: now the fleeting Moone No Planet is of mine. Enter Guardsman, and Clowne.

Guards. This is the man

Cleo. Auoid, and leaue him.

Exit Guardsman.

Hast thou the pretty worme of Nylus there, That killes and paines not? Clow. Truly I haue him: but I would not be the partie that should desire you to touch him, for his byting is immortall: those that doe dye of it, doe seldome or neuer recouer

Cleo. Remember'st thou any that haue dyed on't? Clow. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer then yesterday, a very honest woman, but something giuen to lye, as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty, how she dyed of the byting of it, what paine she felt: Truely, she makes a verie good report o'th' worme: but he that wil beleeue all that they say, shall neuer be saued by halfe that they do: but this is most falliable, the Worme's an odde Worme

Cleo. Get thee hence, farewell

Clow. I wish you all ioy of the Worme

Cleo. Farewell

Clow. You must thinke this (looke you,) that the Worme will do his kinde

Cleo. I, I, farewell

Clow. Looke you, the Worme is not to bee trusted, but in the keeping of wise people: for indeede, there is no goodnesse in the Worme

Cleo. Take thou no care, it shall be heeded

Clow. Very good: giue it nothing I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding

Cleo. Will it eate me? Clow. You must not think I am so simple, but I know the diuell himselfe will not eate a woman: I know, that a woman is a dish for the Gods, if the diuell dresse her not. But truly, these same whorson diuels doe the Gods great harme in their women: for in euery tenne that they make, the diuels marre fiue

Cleo. Well, get thee gone, farewell

Clow. Yes forsooth: I wish you ioy o'th' worm.

Exit

Cleo. Giue me my Robe, put on my Crowne, I haue Immortall longings in me. Now no more The iuyce of Egypts Grape shall moyst this lip. Yare, yare, good Iras; quicke: Me thinkes I heare Anthony call: I see him rowse himselfe To praise my Noble Act. I heare him mock The lucke of Caesar, which the Gods giue men To excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come: Now to that name, my Courage proue my Title. I am Fire, and Ayre; my other Elements I giue to baser life. So, haue you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my Lippes. Farewell kinde Charmian, Iras, long farewell. Haue I the Aspicke in my lippes? Dost fall? If thou, and Nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a Louers pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lye still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world, It is not worth leaue-taking

Char. Dissolue thicke clowd, & Raine, that I may say The Gods themselues do weepe

Cleo. This proues me base: If she first meete the Curled Anthony, Hee'l make demand of her, and spend that kisse Which is my heauen to haue. Come thou mortal wretch, With thy sharpe teeth this knot intrinsicate, Of life at once vntye: Poore venomous Foole, Be angry, and dispatch. Oh could'st thou speake, That I might heare thee call great Caesar Asse, vnpolicied

Char. Oh Easterne Starre

Cleo. Peace, peace: Dost thou not see my Baby at my breast, That suckes the Nurse asleepe

Char. O breake! O breake! Cleo. As sweet as Balme, as soft as Ayre, as gentle. O Anthony! Nay I will take thee too. What should I stay-

Dyes.

Char. In this wilde World? So fare thee well: Now boast thee Death, in thy possession lyes A Lasse vnparalell'd. Downie Windowes cloze, And golden Phoebus, neuer be beheld Of eyes againe so Royall: your Crownes away, Ile mend it, and then play- Enter the Guard rustling in; and Dolabella.

1.Guard. Where's the Queene? Char. Speake softly, wake her not

1 Caesar hath sent Char. Too slow a Messenger. Oh come apace, dispatch, I partly feele thee

1 Approach hoa, All's not well: Caesar's beguild

2 There's Dolabella sent from Caesar: call him

1 What worke is heere Charmian? Is this well done? Char. It is well done, and fitting for a Princesse Descended of so many Royall Kings. Ah Souldier.

Charmian dyes.

Enter Dolabella.

Dol. How goes it heere? 2.Guard. All dead

Dol. Caesar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: Thy selfe art comming To see perform'd the dreaded Act which thou So sought'st to hinder. Enter Caesar and all his Traine, marching.

All. A way there, a way for Caesar

Dol. Oh sir, you are too sure an Augurer: That you did feare, is done

Caesar. Brauest at the last, She leuell'd at our purposes, and being Royall Tooke her owne way: the manner of their deaths, I do not see them bleede

Dol. Who was last with them? 1.Guard. A simple Countryman, that broght hir Figs: This was his Basket

Caesar. Poyson'd then

1.Guard. Oh Caesar: This Charmian liu'd but now, she stood and spake: I found her trimming vp the Diadem; On her dead Mistris tremblingly she stood, And on the sodaine dropt

Caesar. Oh Noble weakenesse: If they had swallow'd poyson, 'twould appeare By externall swelling: but she lookes like sleepe, As she would catch another Anthony In her strong toyle of Grace

Dol. Heere on her brest, There is a vent of Bloud, and something blowne, The like is on her Arme

1.Guard. This is an Aspickes traile, And these Figge-leaues haue slime vpon them, such As th' Aspicke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle

Caesar. Most probable That so she dyed: for her Physitian tels mee She hath pursu'de Conclusions infinite Of easie wayes to dye. Take vp her bed, And beare her Women from the Monument, She shall be buried by her Anthony. No Graue vpon the earth shall clip in it A payre so famous: high euents as these Strike those that make them: and their Story is No lesse in pitty, then his Glory which Brought them to be lamented. Our Army shall In solemne shew, attend this Funerall, And then to Rome. Come Dolabella, see High Order, in this great Solemnity.

Exeunt. omnes

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF Anthonie, and Cleopatra.

The Tragedie of Cymbeline

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1.Gent. You do not meet a man but Frownes. Our bloods no more obey the Heauens Then our Courtiers: Still seeme, as do's the Kings

2 Gent. But what's the matter? 1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom He purpos'd to his wiues sole Sonne, a Widdow That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded, Her Husband banish'd; she imprison'd, all Is outward sorrow, though I thinke the King Be touch'd at very heart

2 None but the King? 1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene, That most desir'd the Match. But not a Courtier, Although they weare their faces to the bent Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowle at

2 And why so? 1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, (I meane, that married her, alacke good man, And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such, As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth For one, his like; there would be something failing In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within Endowes a man, but hee

2 You speake him farre

1 I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe, Crush him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly

2 What's his name, and Birth? 1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan, But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom He seru'd with Glory, and admir'd Successe: So gain'd the Sur-addition, Leonatus. And had (besides this Gentleman in question) Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th' time Dy'de with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father Then old, and fond of yssue, tooke such sorrow That he quit Being; and his gentle Lady Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceast As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe To his protection, cals him Posthumus Leonatus, Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed-chamber, Puts to him all the Learnings that his time Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke As we do ayre, fast as 'twas ministred, And in's Spring, became a Haruest: Liu'd in Court (Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lou'd, A sample to the yongest: to th' more Mature, A glasse that feated them: and to the grauer, A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Mistris, (For whom he now is banish'd) her owne price Proclaimes how she esteem'd him; and his Vertue By her electio[n] may be truly read, what kind of man he is

2 I honor him, euen out of your report. But pray you tell me, is she sole childe to'th' King? 1 His onely childe: He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, Marke it) the eldest of them, at three yeares old I'th' swathing cloathes, the other from their Nursery Were stolne, and to this houre, no ghesse in knowledge Which way they went

2 How long is this ago? 1 Some twenty yeares

2 That a Kings Children should be so conuey'd, So slackely guarded, and the search so slow That could not trace them

1 Howsoere, 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at: Yet is it true Sir

2 I do well beleeue you

1 We must forbeare. Heere comes the Gentleman, The Queene, and Princesse.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter the Queene, Posthumus, and Imogen.

Qu. No, be assur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter) After the slander of most Step-Mothers, Euill-ey'd vnto you. You're my Prisoner, but Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes That locke vp your restraint. For you Posthumus, So soone as I can win th' offended King, I will be knowne your Aduocate: marry yet The fire of Rage is in him, and 'twere good You lean'd vnto his Sentence, with what patience Your wisedome may informe you

Post. 'Please your Highnesse, I will from hence to day

Qu. You know the perill: Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pittying The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King Hath charg'd you should not speake together.

Exit

Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband, I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing (Alwayes reseru'd my holy duty) what His rage can do on me. You must be gone, And I shall heere abide the hourely shot Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue, But that there is this Iewell in the world, That I may see againe

Post. My Queene, my Mistris: O Lady, weepe no more, least I giue cause To be suspected of more tendernesse Then doth become a man. I will remaine The loyall'st husband, that did ere plight troth. My residence in Rome, at one Filorio's, Who, to my Father was a Friend, to me Knowne but by Letter; thither write (my Queene) And with mine eyes, Ile drinke the words you send, Though Inke be made of Gall. Enter Queene.

Qu. Be briefe, I pray you: If the King come, I shall incurre, I know not How much of his displeasure: yet Ile moue him To walke this way: I neuer do him wrong, But he do's buy my Iniuries, to be Friends: Payes deere for my offences

Post. Should we be taking leaue As long a terme as yet we haue to liue, The loathnesse to depart, would grow: Adieu

Imo. Nay, stay a little: Were you but riding forth to ayre your selfe, Such parting were too petty. Looke heere (Loue) This Diamond was my Mothers; take it (Heart) But keepe it till you woo another Wife, When Imogen is dead

Post. How, how? Another? You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue, And seare vp my embracements from a next, With bonds of death. Remaine, remaine thou heere, While sense can keepe it on: And sweetest, fairest, As I (my poore selfe) did exchange for you To your so infinite losse; so in our trifles I still winne of you. For my sake weare this, It is a Manacle of Loue, Ile place it Vpon this fayrest Prisoner

Imo. O the Gods! When shall we see againe? Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Post. Alacke, the King

Cym. Thou basest thing, auoyd hence, from my sight: If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy vnworthinesse, thou dyest. Away, Thou'rt poyson to my blood

Post. The Gods protect you, And blesse the good Remainders of the Court: I am gone

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharpe then this is

Cym. O disloyall thing, That should'st repayre my youth, thou heap'st A yeares age on mee

Imo. I beseech you Sir, Harme not your selfe with your vexation, I am senselesse of your Wrath; a Touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all feares

Cym. Past Grace? Obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in dispaire, that way past Grace

Cym. That might'st haue had The sole Sonne of my Queene

Imo. O blessed, that I might not: I chose an Eagle, And did auoyd a Puttocke

Cym. Thou took'st a Begger, would'st haue made my Throne, a Seate for basenesse

Imo. No, I rather added a lustre to it

Cym. O thou vilde one! Imo. Sir, It is your fault that I haue lou'd Posthumus: You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is A man, worth any woman: Ouer-buyes mee Almost the summe he payes

Cym. What? art thou mad? Imo. Almost Sir: Heauen restore me: would I were A Neat-heards Daughter, and my Leonatus Our Neighbour-Shepheards Sonne. Enter Queene.

Cym. Thou foolish thing; They were againe together: you haue done Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her vp

Qu. Beseech your patience: Peace Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne, Leaue vs to our selues, and make your self some comfort Out of your best aduice

Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day, and being aged Dye of this Folly. Enter.

Enter Pisanio.

Qu. Fye, you must giue way: Heere is your Seruant. How now Sir? What newes? Pisa. My Lord your Sonne, drew on my Master

Qu. Hah? No harme I trust is done? Pisa. There might haue beene, But that my Master rather plaid, then fought, And had no helpe of Anger: they were parted By Gentlemen, at hand

Qu. I am very glad on't

Imo. Your Son's my Fathers friend, he takes his part To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir, I would they were in Affricke both together, My selfe by with a Needle, that I might pricke The goer backe. Why came you from your Master? Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes Of what commands I should be subiect too, When't pleas'd you to employ me

Qu. This hath beene Your faithfull Seruant: I dare lay mine Honour He will remaine so

Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse

Qu. Pray walke a-while

Imo. About some halfe houre hence, Pray you speake with me; You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord. For this time leaue me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clotten, and two Lords.

1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent

Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Haue I hurt him? 2 No faith: not so much as his patience

1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt

2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the Towne

Clot. The Villaine would not stand me

2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face

1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne: But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground

2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.) Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs

2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole you were vpon the ground

Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse mee

2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd

1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene small reflection of her wit

2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection Should hurt her

Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had beene some hurt done

2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse, which is no great hurt

Clot. You'l go with vs? 1 Ile attend your Lordship

Clot. Nay come, let's go together

2 Well my Lord.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.

Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen, And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write, And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost As offer'd mercy is: What was the last That he spake to thee? Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene

Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe? Pisa. And kist it, Madam

Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I: And that was all? Pisa. No Madam: for so long As he could make me with his eye, or eare, Distinguish him from others, he did keepe The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife, Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on, How swift his Ship

Imo. Thou should'st haue made him As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left To after-eye him

Pisa. Madam, so I did

Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings; Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle: Nay, followed him, till he had melted from The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio, When shall we heare from him

Pisa. Be assur'd Madam, With his next vantage

Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him How I would thinke on him at certaine houres, Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare, The Shees of Italy should not betray Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight, T' encounter me with Orisons, for then I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could, Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father, And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North, Shakes all our buddes from growing. Enter a Lady.

La. The Queene (Madam) Desires your Highnesse Company

Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd, I will attend the Queene

Pisa. Madam, I shall.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard.

Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy, as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Admiration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items

Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd, then now hee is, with that which makes him both without, and within

French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very many there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as hee

Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the matter

French. And then his banishment

Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortifie her iudgement, which else an easie battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger without lesse quality. But how comes it, he is to soiourne with you? How creepes acquaintance? Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse then my life. Enter Posthumus.

Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained among'st you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing, to a Stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you, as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will leaue to appeare hereafter, rather then story him in his owne hearing

French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance

Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay still

French. Sir, you o're-rate my poore kindnesse, I was glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it had beene pitty you should haue beene put together, with so mortall a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of so slight and triuiall a nature

Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller, rather shun'd to go euen with what I heard, then in my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but vpon my mended iudgement (if I offend to say it is mended) my Quarrell was not altogether slight

French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood haue confounded one the other, or haue falne both

Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference? French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in publicke, which may (without contradiction) suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Mistresses. This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more Faire, Vertuous, Wise, Chaste, Constant, Qualified, and lesse attemptible then any, the rarest of our Ladies in Fraunce

Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemans opinion by this, worne out

Post. She holds her Vertue still, and I my mind

Iach. You must not so farre preferre her, 'fore ours of Italy

Posth. Being so farre prouok'd as I was in France: I would abate her nothing, though I professe my selfe her Adorer, not her Friend

Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand comparison, had beene something too faire, and too good for any Lady in Britanie; if she went before others. I haue seene as that Diamond of yours out-lusters many I haue beheld, I could not beleeue she excelled many: but I haue not seene the most pretious Diamond that is, nor you the Lady

Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone

Iach. What do you esteeme it at? Post. More then the world enioyes

Iach. Either your vnparagon'd Mistris is dead, or she's out-priz'd by a trifle

Post. You are mistaken: the one may be solde or giuen, or if there were wealth enough for the purchases, or merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for sale, and onely the guift of the Gods

Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you? Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe

Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you know strange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds. Your Ring may be stolne too, so your brace of vnprizeable Estimations, the one is but fraile, and the other Casuall; A cunning Thiefe, or a (that way) accomplish'd Courtier, would hazzard the winning both of first and last

Post. Your Italy, containes none so accomplish'd a Courtier to conuince the Honour of my Mistris: if in the holding or losse of that, you terme her fraile, I do nothing doubt you haue store of Theeues, notwithstanding I feare not my Ring

Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen? Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I thanke him, makes no stranger of me, we are familiar at first

Iach. With fiue times so much conuersation, I should get ground of your faire Mistris; make her go backe, euen to the yeilding, had I admittance, and opportunitie to friend

Post. No, no

Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my Estate, to your Ring, which in my opinion o're-values it something: but I make my wager rather against your Confidence, then her Reputation. And to barre your offence heerein to, I durst attempt it against any Lady in the world

Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a perswasion, and I doubt not you sustaine what y'are worthy of, by your Attempt

Iach. What's that? Posth. A Repulse though your Attempt (as you call it) deserue more; a punishment too

Phi. Gentlemen enough of this, it came in too sodainely, let it dye as it was borne, and I pray you be better acquainted

Iach. Would I had put my Estate, and my Neighbors on th' approbation of what I haue spoke

Post. What Lady would you chuse to assaile? Iach. Yours, whom in constancie you thinke stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousands Duckets to your Ring, that commend me to the Court where your Lady is, with no more aduantage then the opportunitie of a second conference, and I will bring from thence, that Honor of hers, which you imagine so reseru'd

Posthmus. I will wage against your Gold, Gold to it: My Ring I holde deere as my finger, 'tis part of it

Iach. You are a Friend, and there in the wiser: if you buy Ladies flesh at a Million a Dram, you cannot preserue it from tainting; but I see you haue some Religion in you, that you feare

Posthu. This is but a custome in your tongue: you beare a grauer purpose I hope

Iach. I am the Master of my speeches, and would vnder-go what's spoken, I sweare

Posthu. Will you? I shall but lend my Diamond till your returne: let there be Couenants drawne between's. My Mistris exceedes in goodnesse, the hugenesse of your vnworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: heere's my Ring

Phil. I will haue it no lay

Iach. By the Gods it is one: if I bring you no sufficient testimony that I haue enioy'd the deerest bodily part of your Mistris: my ten thousand Duckets are yours, so is your Diamond too: if I come off, and leaue her in such honour as you haue trust in; Shee your Iewell, this your Iewell, and my Gold are yours: prouided, I haue your commendation, for my more free entertainment

Post. I embrace these Conditions, let vs haue Articles betwixt vs: onely thus farre you shall answere, if you make your voyage vpon her, and giue me directly to vnderstand, you haue preuayl'd, I am no further your Enemy, shee is not worth our debate. If shee remaine vnseduc'd, you not making it appeare otherwise: for your ill opinion, and th' assault you haue made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your Sword

Iach. Your hand, a Couenant: wee will haue these things set downe by lawfull Counsell, and straight away for Britaine, least the Bargaine should catch colde, and sterue: I will fetch my Gold, and haue our two Wagers recorded

Post. Agreed

French. Will this hold, thinke you

Phil. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray let vs follow 'em.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Queene, Ladies, and Cornelius.

Qu. Whiles yet the dewe's on ground, Gather those Flowers, Make haste. Who ha's the note of them? Lady. I Madam

Queen. Dispatch.

Exit Ladies.

Now Master Doctor, haue you brought those drugges? Cor. Pleaseth your Highnes, I: here they are, Madam: But I beseech your Grace, without offence (My Conscience bids me aske) wherefore you haue Commanded of me these most poysonous Compounds, Which are the moouers of a languishing death: But though slow, deadly

Qu. I wonder, Doctor, Thou ask'st me such a Question: Haue I not bene Thy Pupill long? Hast thou not learn'd me how To make Perfumes? Distill? Preserue? Yea so, That our great King himselfe doth woo me oft For my Confections? Hauing thus farre proceeded, (Vnlesse thou think'st me diuellish) is't not meete That I did amplifie my iudgement in Other Conclusions? I will try the forces Of these thy Compounds, on such Creatures as We count not worth the hanging (but none humane) To try the vigour of them, and apply Allayments to their Act, and by them gather Their seuerall vertues, and effects

Cor. Your Highnesse Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effects will be Both noysome, and infectious

Qu. O content thee. Enter Pisanio.

Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him Will I first worke: Hee's for his Master, And enemy to my Sonne. How now Pisanio? Doctor, your seruice for this time is ended, Take your owne way

Cor. I do suspect you, Madam, But you shall do no harme

Qu. Hearke thee, a word

Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha's Strange ling'ring poysons: I do know her spirit, And will not trust one of her malice, with A drugge of such damn'd Nature. Those she ha's, Will stupifie and dull the Sense a-while, Which first (perchance) shee'l proue on Cats and Dogs, Then afterward vp higher: but there is No danger in what shew of death it makes, More then the locking vp the Spirits a time, To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool'd With a most false effect: and I, the truer, So to be false with her

Qu. No further seruice, Doctor, Vntill I send for thee

Cor. I humbly take my leaue. Enter.

Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?) Dost thou thinke in time She will not quench, and let instructions enter Where Folly now possesses? Do thou worke: When thou shalt bring me word she loues my Sonne, Ile tell thee on the instant, thou art then As great as is thy Master: Greater, for His Fortunes all lye speechlesse, and his name Is at last gaspe. Returne he cannot, nor Continue where he is: To shift his being, Is to exchange one misery with another, And euery day that comes, comes to decay A dayes worke in him. What shalt thou expect To be depender on a thing that leanes? Who cannot be new built, nor ha's no Friends So much, as but to prop him? Thou tak'st vp Thou know'st not what: But take it for thy labour, It is a thing I made, which hath the King Fiue times redeem'd from death. I do not know What is more Cordiall. Nay, I prythee take it, It is an earnest of a farther good That I meane to thee. Tell thy Mistris how The case stands with her: doo't, as from thy selfe; Thinke what a chance thou changest on, but thinke Thou hast thy Mistris still, to boote, my Sonne, Who shall take notice of thee. Ile moue the King To any shape of thy Preferment, such As thou'lt desire: and then my selfe, I cheefely, That set thee on to this desert, am bound To loade thy merit richly. Call my women.

Exit Pisa.

Thinke on my words. A slye, and constant knaue, Not to be shak'd: the Agent for his Master, And the Remembrancer of her, to hold The hand-fast to her Lord. I haue giuen him that, Which if he take, shall quite vnpeople her Of Leidgers for her Sweete: and which, she after Except she bend her humor, shall be assur'd To taste of too. Enter Pisanio, and Ladies.

So, so: Well done, well done: The Violets, Cowslippes, and the Prime-Roses Beare to my Closset: Fare thee well, Pisanio. Thinke on my words.

Exit Qu. and Ladies

Pisa. And shall do: But when to my good Lord, I proue vntrue, Ile choake my selfe: there's all Ile do for you. Enter.

Scena Septima.

Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. A Father cruell, and a Stepdame false, A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded-Lady, That hath her Husband banish'd: O, that Husband, My supreame Crowne of griefe, and those repeated Vexations of it. Had I bin Theefe-stolne, As my two Brothers, happy: but most miserable Is the desires that's glorious. Blessed be those How meane so ere, that haue their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fye. Enter Pisanio, and Iachimo.

Pisa. Madam, a Noble Gentleman of Rome, Comes from my Lord with Letters

Iach. Change you, Madam: The Worthy Leonatus is in safety, And greetes your Highnesse deerely

Imo. Thanks good Sir, You're kindly welcome

Iach. All of her, that is out of doore, most rich: If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare She is alone th' Arabian-Bird; and I Haue lost the wager. Boldnesse be my Friend: Arme me Audacitie from head to foote, Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight, Rather directly fly

Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect vpon him accordingly, as you value your trust. Leonatus. So farre I reade aloud. But euen the very middle of my heart Is warm'd by'th' rest, and take it thankefully. You are as welcome (worthy Sir) as I Haue words to bid you, and shall finde it so In all that I can do

Iach. Thankes fairest Lady: What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes To see this vaulted Arch, and the rich Crop Of Sea and Land, which can distinguish 'twixt The firie Orbes aboue, and the twinn'd Stones Vpon the number'd Beach, and can we not

## Partition make with Spectacles so pretious

Twixt faire, and foule? Imo. What makes your admiration? Iach. It cannot be i'th' eye: for Apes, and Monkeys 'Twixt two such She's, would chatter this way, and Contemne with mowes the other. Nor i'th' iudgment: For Idiots in this case of fauour, would Be wisely definit: Nor i'th' Appetite. Sluttery to such neate Excellence, oppos'd Should make desire vomit emptinesse, Not so allur'd to feed

Imo. What is the matter trow? Iach. The Cloyed will: That satiate yet vnsatisfi'd desire, that Tub Both fill'd and running: Rauening first the Lambe, Longs after for the Garbage

Imo. What, deere Sir, Thus rap's you? Are you well? Iach. Thanks Madam well: Beseech you Sir, Desire my Man's abode, where I did leaue him: He's strange and peeuish

Pisa. I was going Sir, To giue him welcome. Enter.

Imo. Continues well my Lord? His health beseech you? Iach. Well, Madam

Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is

Iach. Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there, So merry, and so gamesome: he is call'd The Britaine Reueller

Imo. When he was heere He did incline to sadnesse, and oft times Not knowing why

Iach. I neuer saw him sad. There is a Frenchman his Companion, one An eminent Monsieur, that it seemes much loues A Gallian-Girle at home. He furnaces The thicke sighes from him; whiles the iolly Britaine, (Your Lord I meane) laughes from's free lungs: cries oh, Can my sides hold, to think that man who knowes By History, Report, or his owne proofe What woman is, yea what she cannot choose But must be: will's free houres languish: For assured bondage? Imo. Will my Lord say so? Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter, It is a Recreation to be by And heare him mocke the Frenchman: But Heauen's know some men are much too blame

Imo. Not he I hope

Iach. Not he: But yet Heauen's bounty towards him, might Be vs'd more thankfully. In himselfe 'tis much; In you, which I account his beyond all Talents. Whil'st I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pitty too

Imo. What do you pitty Sir? Iach. Two Creatures heartyly

Imo. Am I one Sir? You looke on me: what wrack discerne you in me Deserues your pitty? Iach. Lamentable: what To hide me from the radiant Sun, and solace I'th' Dungeon by a Snuffe

Imo. I pray you Sir, Deliuer with more opennesse your answeres To my demands. Why do you pitty me? Iach. That others do, (I was about to say) enioy your- but It is an office of the Gods to venge it, Not mine to speake on't

Imo. You do seeme to know Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more Then to be sure they do. For Certainties Either are past remedies; or timely knowing, The remedy then borne. Discouer to me What both you spur and stop

Iach. Had I this cheeke To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch, (Whose euery touch) would force the Feelers soule To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then) Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as With labour:) then by peeping in an eye Base and illustrious as the smoakie light That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit That all the plagues of Hell should at one time Encounter such reuolt

Imo. My Lord, I feare Has forgot Brittaine

Iach. And himselfe, not I Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue, Charmes this report out

Imo. Let me heare no more

Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures That play with all Infirmities for Gold, Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd, Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you Recoyle from your great Stocke

Imo. Reueng'd: How should I be reueng'd? If this be true, (As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares Must not in haste abuse) if it be true, How should I be reueng'd? Iach. Should he make me Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it. I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure, More Noble then that runnagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your Affection, Still close, as sure

Imo. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes

Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange: Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre From thy report, as thou from Honor: and Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio? The King my Father shall be made acquainted Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit, A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart As in a Romish Stew, and to expound His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court He little cares for, and a Daughter, who He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say, The credit that thy Lady hath of thee Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long, A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon, I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord, That which he is, new o're: And he is one The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch, That he enchants Societies into him: Halfe all men hearts are his

Imo. You make amends

Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God; He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off, More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie (Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd To try your taking of a false report, which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement, In the election of a Sir, so rare, Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him, Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you (Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon

Imo. All's well Sir: Take my powre i'th' Court for yours

Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost forgot T' intreat your Grace, but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concernes: Your Lord, my selfe, and other Noble Friends Are partners in the businesse

Imo. Pray what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord (The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes To buy a Present for the Emperor: Which I (the Factor for the rest) haue done In France: 'tis Plate of rare deuice, and Iewels Of rich, and exquisite forme, their valewes great, And I am something curious, being strange To haue them in safe stowage: May it please you To take them in protection

Imo. Willingly: And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since My Lord hath interest in them, I will keepe them In my Bed-chamber

Iach. They are in a Trunke Attended by my men: I will make bold To send them to you, onely for this night: I must aboord to morrow

Imo. O no, no

Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word By length'ning my returne. From Gallia, I crost the Seas on purpose, and on promise To see your Grace

Imo. I thanke you for your paines: But not away to morrow

Iach. O I must Madam. Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night, I haue out-stood my time, which is materiall To'th' tender of our Present

Imo. I will write: Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept, And truely yeelded you: you're very welcome.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clotten, and the two Lords.

Clot. Was there euer man had such lucke? when I kist the Iacke vpon an vp-cast, to be hit away? I had a hundred pound on't: and then a whorson Iacke-an-Apes, must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine oathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure

1. What got he by that? you haue broke his pate with your Bowle

2. If his wit had bin like him that broke it: it would haue run all out

Clot. When a Gentleman is dispos'd to sweare: it is not for any standers by to curtall his oathes. Ha? 2. No my Lord; nor crop the eares of them

Clot. Whorson dog: I gaue him satisfaction? would he had bin one of my Ranke

2. To haue smell'd like a Foole

Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in th' earth: a pox on't I had rather not be so Noble as I am: they dare not fight with me, because of the Queene my Mother: euery Iacke-Slaue hath his belly full of Fighting, and I must go vp and downe like a Cock, that no body can match

2. You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow Cock, with your combe on

Clot. Sayest thou? 2. It is not fit your Lordship should vndertake euery Companion, that you giue offence too

Clot. No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors

2. I, it is fit for your Lordship onely

Clot. Why so I say

1. Did you heere of a Stranger that's come to Court night? Clot. A Stranger, and I not know on't? 2. He's a strange Fellow himselfe, and knowes it not

1. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought one of Leonatus Friends

Clot. Leonatus? A banisht Rascall; and he's another, whatsoeuer he be. Who told you of this Stranger? 1. One of your Lordships Pages

Clot. Is it fit I went to looke vpon him? Is there no derogation in't? 2. You cannot derogate my Lord

Clot. Not easily I thinke

2. You are a Foole graunted, therefore your Issues being foolish do not derogate

Clot. Come, Ile go see this Italian: what I haue lost to day at Bowles, Ile winne to night of him. Come: go

2. Ile attend your Lordship. Enter.

That such a craftie Diuell as is his Mother Should yeild the world this Asse: A woman, that Beares all downe with her Braine, and this her Sonne, Cannot take two from twenty for his heart, And leaue eighteene. Alas poore Princesse, Thou diuine Imogen, what thou endur'st, Betwixt a Father by thy Step-dame gouern'd, A Mother hourely coyning plots: A Wooer, More hatefull then the foule expulsion is Of thy deere Husband. Then that horrid Act Of the diuorce, heel'd make the Heauens hold firme The walls of thy deere Honour. Keepe vnshak'd That Temple thy faire mind, that thou maist stand T' enioy thy banish'd Lord: and this great Land.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady.

Imo. Who's there? My woman: Helene? La. Please you Madam

Imo. What houre is it? Lady. Almost midnight, Madam

Imo. I haue read three houres then: Mine eyes are weake, Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed. Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning: And if thou canst awake by foure o'th' clock, I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly. To your protection I commend me, Gods, From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night, Guard me beseech yee.

Sleepes.

Iachimo from the Trunke.

Iach. The Crickets sing, and mans ore-labor'd sense Repaires it selfe by rest: Our Tarquine thus Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd The Chastitie he wounded. Cytherea, How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly, And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch, But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd, How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th' Taper Bowes toward her, and would vnder-peepe her lids. To see th' inclosed Lights, now Canopied Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe. To note the Chamber, I will write all downe, Such, and such pictures: There the window, such Th' adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures, Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th' Story. Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body, Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables Would testifie, t' enrich mine Inuentorie. O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her, And be her Sense but as a Monument, Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off; As slippery as the Gordian-knot was hard. 'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly, As strongly as the Conscience do's within: To'th' madding of her Lord. On her left brest A mole Cinque-spotted: Like the Crimson drops I'th' bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher, Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end? Why should I write this downe, that's riueted, Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late, The Tale of Tereus, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe Where Philomele gaue vp. I haue enough, To'th' Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare, Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere.

Clocke strikes

One, two, three: time, time. Enter.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clotten, and Lords.

1. Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace

Clot. It would make any man cold to loose

1. But not euery man patient after the noble temper of your Lordship; You are most hot, and furious when you winne. Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's almost morning, is't not? 1 Day, my Lord

Clot. I would this Musicke would come: I am aduised to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will penetrate. Enter Musitians.

Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excellent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings, and Phoebus gins arise, His Steeds to water at those Springs on chalic'd Flowres that lyes: And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their Golden eyes With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise: Arise, arise. So, get you gone: if this penetrate, I will consider your Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares which Horse-haires, and Calues-guts, nor the voyce of vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amend. Enter Cymbaline, and Queene.

2 Heere comes the King

Clot. I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason I was vp so earely: he cannot choose but take this Seruice I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Maiesty, and to my gracious Mother

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter Will she not forth? Clot. I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouchsafes no notice

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, She hath not yet forgot him, some more time Must weare the print of his remembrance on't, And then she's yours

Qu. You are most bound to'th' King, Who let's go by no vantages, that may Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe To orderly solicity, and be friended With aptnesse of the season: make denials Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her: that you in all obey her, Saue when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senselesse

Clot. Senselesse? Not so

Mes. So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius

Cym. A worthy Fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him According to the Honor of his Sender, And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore-spent on vs We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne, When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris, Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede T' employ you towards this Romane. Come our Queene.

Exeunt.

Clot. If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa, I know her women are about her: what If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes Diana's Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp Their Deere to'th' stand o'th' Stealer: and 'tis Gold Which makes the True-man kill'd, and saues the Theefe: Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True-man: what Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make One of her women Lawyer to me, for I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe. By your leaue.

Knockes.

Enter a Lady.

La. Who's there that knockes? Clot. A Gentleman

La. No more

Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne

La. That's more Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours, Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure? Clot. Your Ladies person, is she ready? La. I, to keepe her Chamber

Clot. There is Gold for you, Sell me your good report

La. How, my good name? or to report of you What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse. Enter Imogen.

Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand

Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue, Is telling you that I am poore of thankes, And scarse can spare them

Clot. Still I sweare I loue you

Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me: If you sweare still, your recompence is still That I regard it not

Clot. This is no answer

Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith I shall vnfold equall discourtesie To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing Should learne (being taught) forbearance

Clot. To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin, I will not

Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes

Clot. Do you call me Foole? Imo. As I am mad I do: If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad, That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir) You put me to forget a Ladies manners By being so verball: and learne now, for all, That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce By th' very truth of it, I care not for you, And am so neere the lacke of Charitie To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather You felt, then make't my boast

Clot. You sinne against Obedience, which you owe your Father, for The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch, One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes, With scraps o'th' Court: It is no Contract, none; And though it be allowed in meaner parties (Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules (On whom there is no more dependancie But Brats and Beggery) in selfe-figur'd knot, Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by The consequence o'th' Crowne, and must not foyle The precious note of it; with a base Slaue, A Hilding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth, A Pantler; not so eminent

Imo. Prophane Fellow: Wert thou the Sonne of Iupiter, and no more, But what thou art besides: thou wer't too base, To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough Euen to the point of Enuie. If 'twere made Comparatiue for your Vertues, to be stil'd The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated For being prefer'd so well

Clot. The South-Fog rot him

Imo. He neuer can meete more mischance, then come To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st Garment That euer hath but clipt his body; is dearer In my respect, then all the Heires aboue thee, Were they all made such men: How now Pisanio? Enter Pisanio.

Clot. His Garments? Now the diuell

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently

Clot. His Garment? Imo. I am sprighted with a Foole, Frighted, and angred worse: Go bid my woman Search for a Iewell, that too casually Hath left mine Arme: it was thy Masters. Shrew me If I would loose it for a Reuenew, Of any Kings in Europe. I do think, I saw't this morning: Confident I am. Last night 'twas on mine Arme; I kiss'd it, I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord That I kisse aught but he

Pis. 'Twill not be lost

Imo. I hope so: go and search

Clot. You haue abus'd me: His meanest Garment? Imo. I, I said so Sir, If you will make't an Action, call witnesse to't

Clot. I will enforme your Father

Imo. Your Mother too: She's my good Lady; and will concieue, I hope But the worst of me. So I leaue you Sir, To'th' worst of discontent. Enter.

Clot. Ile be reueng'd: His mean'st Garment? Well. Enter.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Posthumus, and Philario.

Post. Feare it not Sir: I would I were so sure To winne the King, as I am bold, her Honour Will remaine her's

Phil. What meanes do you make to him? Post. Not any: but abide the change of Time, Quake in the present winters state, and wish That warmer dayes would come: In these fear'd hope I barely gratifie your loue; they fayling I must die much your debtor

Phil. Your very goodnesse, and your company, Ore-payes all I can do. By this your King, Hath heard of Great Augustus: Caius Lucius, Will do's Commission throughly. And I think Hee'le grant the Tribute: send th' Arrerages, Or looke vpon our Romaines, whose remembrance Is yet fresh in their griefe

Post. I do beleeue (Statist though I am none, nor like to be) That this will proue a Warre; and you shall heare The Legion now in Gallia, sooner landed In our not-fearing-Britaine, then haue tydings Of any penny Tribute paid. Our Countrymen Are men more order'd, then when Iulius Caesar Smil'd at their lacke of skill, but found their courage Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, (Now wing-led with their courages) will make knowne To their Approuers, they are People, such That mend vpon the world. Enter Iachimo.

Phi. See Iachimo

Post. The swiftest Harts, haue posted you by land; And Windes of all the Corners kiss'd your Sailes, To make your vessell nimble

Phil. Welcome Sir

Post. I hope the briefenesse of your answere, made The speedinesse of your returne

Iachi. Your Lady, Is one of the fayrest that I haue look'd vpon Post. And therewithall the best, or let her beauty Looke thorough a Casement to allure false hearts, And be false with them

Iachi. Heere are Letters for you

Post. Their tenure good I trust

Iach. 'Tis very like

Post. Was Caius Lucius in the Britaine Court, When you were there? Iach. He was expected then, But not approach'd

Post. All is well yet, Sparkles this Stone as it was wont, or is't not Too dull for your good wearing? Iach. If I haue lost it, I should haue lost the worth of it in Gold, Ile make a iourney twice as farre, t' enioy A second night of such sweet shortnesse, which Was mine in Britaine, for the Ring is wonne

Post. The Stones too hard to come by

Iach. Not a whit, Your Lady being so easy

Post. Make note Sir Your losse, your Sport: I hope you know that we Must not continue Friends

Iach. Good Sir, we must If you keepe Couenant: had I not brought The knowledge of your Mistris home, I grant We were to question farther; but I now Professe my selfe the winner of her Honor, Together with your Ring; and not the wronger Of her, or you hauing proceeded but By both your willes

Post. If you can mak't apparant That you haue tasted her in Bed; my hand, And Ring is yours. If not, the foule opinion You had of her pure Honour; gaines, or looses, Your Sword, or mine, or Masterlesse leaue both To who shall finde them

Iach. Sir, my Circumstances Being so nere the Truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to beleeue; whose strength I will confirme with oath, which I doubt not You'l giue me leaue to spare, when you shall finde You neede it not

Post. Proceed

Iach. First, her Bed-chamber (Where I confesse I slept not, but professe Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd With Tapistry of Silke, and Siluer, the Story Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Sidnus swell'd aboue the Bankes, or for The presse of Boates, or Pride. A peece of Worke So brauely done, so rich, that it did striue In Workemanship, and Value, which I wonder'd Could be so rarely, and exactly wrought Since the true life on't was- Post. This is true: And this you might haue heard of heere, by me, Or by some other

Iach. More particulars Must iustifie my knowledge

Post. So they must, Or doe your Honour iniury

Iach. The Chimney Is South the Chamber, and the Chimney-peece Chaste Dian, bathing: neuer saw I figures So likely to report themselues; the Cutter Was as another Nature dumbe, out-went her, Motion, and Breath left out

Post. This is a thing Which you might from Relation likewise reape, Being, as it is, much spoke of

Iach. The Roofe o'th' Chamber, With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons (I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids Of Siluer, each on one foote standing, nicely Depending on their Brands

Post. This is her Honor: Let it be granted you haue seene all this (and praise Be giuen to your remembrance) the description Of what is in her Chamber, nothing saues The wager you haue laid

Iach. Then if you can Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See, And now 'tis vp againe: it must be married To that your Diamond, Ile keepe them

Post. Ioue- Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her? Iach. Sir (I thanke her) that She stript it from her Arme: I see her yet: Her pretty Action, did out-sell her guift, And yet enrich'd it too: she gaue it me, And said, she priz'd it once

Post. May be, she pluck'd it off To send it me

Iach. She writes so to you? doth shee? Post. O no, no, no, 'tis true. Heere, take this too, It is a Basiliske vnto mine eye, Killes me to looke on't: Let there be no Honor, Where there is Beauty: Truth, where semblance: Loue, Where there's another man. The Vowes of Women, Of no more bondage be, to where they are made, Then they are to their Vertues, which is nothing: O, aboue measure false

Phil. Haue patience Sir, And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne: It may be probable she lost it: or Who knowes if one her women, being corrupted Hath stolne it from her

Post. Very true, And so I hope he came by't: backe my Ring, Render to me some corporall signe about her More euident then this: for this was stolne

Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme

Post. Hearke you, he sweares: by Iupiter he sweares. 'Tis true, nay keepe the Ring; 'tis true: I am sure She would not loose it: her Attendants are All sworne, and honourable: they induc'd to steale it? And by a Stranger? No, he hath enioy'd her, The Cognisance of her incontinencie Is this: she hath bought the name of Whore, thus deerly There, take thy hyre, and all the Fiends of Hell Diuide themselues betweene you

Phil. Sir, be patient: This is not strong enough to be beleeu'd Of one perswaded well of

Post. Neuer talke on't: She hath bin colted by him

Iach. If you seeke For further satisfying, vnder her Breast (Worthy her pressing) lyes a Mole, right proud Of that most delicate Lodging. By my life I kist it, and it gaue me present hunger To feede againe, though full. You do remember This staine vpon her? Post. I, and it doth confirme Another staine, as bigge as Hell can hold, Were there no more but it

Iach. Will you heare more? Post. Spare your Arethmaticke, Neuer count the Turnes: Once, and a Million

Iach. Ile be sworne

Post. No swearing: If you will sweare you haue not done't, you lye, And I will kill thee, if thou do'st deny Thou'st made me Cuckold

Iach. Ile deny nothing

Post. O that I had her heere, to teare her Limb-meale: I will go there and doo't, i'th' Court, before Her Father. Ile do something. Enter.

Phil. Quite besides The gouernment of Patience. You haue wonne: Let's follow him, and peruert the present wrath He hath against himselfe

Iach. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter Posthumus.

Post. Is there no way for Men to be, but Women Must be halfe-workers? We are all Bastards, And that most venerable man, which I Did call my Father, was, I know not where When I was stampt. Some Coyner with his Tooles Made me a counterfeit: yet my Mother seem'd The Dian of that time: so doth my Wife The Non-pareill of this. Oh Vengeance, Vengeance! Me of my lawfull pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me oft forbearance: did it with A pudencie so Rosie, the sweet view on't Might well haue warm'd olde Saturne; That I thought her As Chaste, as vn-Sunn'd Snow. Oh, all the Diuels! This yellow Iachimo in an houre, was't not? Or lesse; at first? Perchance he spoke not, but Like a full Acorn'd Boare, a Iarmen on, Cry'de oh, and mounted; found no opposition But what he look'd for, should oppose, and she Should from encounter guard. Could I finde out The Womans part in me, for there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirme It is the Womans part: be it Lying, note it, The womans: Flattering, hers; Deceiuing, hers: Lust, and ranke thoughts, hers, hers: Reuenges hers: Ambitions, Couetings, change of Prides, Disdaine, Nice-longing, Slanders, Mutability; All Faults that name, nay, that Hell knowes, Why hers, in part, or all: but rather all. For euen to Vice They are not constant, but are changing still; One Vice, but of a minute old, for one Not halfe so old as that. Ile write against them, Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater Skill In a true Hate, to pray they haue their will: The very Diuels cannot plague them better. Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter in State, Cymbeline, Queene, Clotten, and Lords at one doore, and at another, Caius, Lucius; and Attendants.

Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with vs? Luc. When Iulius Caesar (whose remembrance yet Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues Be Theame, and hearing euer) was in this Britain, And Conquer'd it, Cassibulan thine Vnkle (Famous in Caesars prayses, no whit lesse Then in his Feats deseruing it) for him, And his Succession, granted Rome a Tribute, Yeerely three thousand pounds; which (by thee) lately Is left vntender'd

Qu. And to kill the meruaile, Shall be so euer

Clot. There be many Caesars, Ere such another Iulius: Britaine's a world By it selfe, and we will nothing pay For wearing our owne Noses

Qu. That opportunity Which then they had to take from's, to resume We haue againe. Remember Sir, my Liege, The Kings your Ancestors, together with The naturall brauery of your Isle, which stands As Neptunes Parke, ribb'd, and pal'd in With Oakes vnskaleable, and roaring Waters, With Sands that will not beare your Enemies Boates, But sucke them vp to'th' Top-mast. A kinde of Conquest Caesar made heere, but made not heere his bragge Of Came, and Saw, and Ouer-came: with shame (The first that euer touch'd him) he was carried From off our Coast, twice beaten: and his Shipping (Poore ignorant Baubles) on our terrible Seas Like Egge-shels mou'd vpon their Surges, crack'd As easily 'gainst our Rockes. For ioy whereof, The fam'd Cassibulan, who was once at point (Oh giglet Fortune) to master Caesars Sword, Made Luds-Towne with reioycing-Fires bright, And Britaines strut with Courage

Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid: our Kingdome is stronger then it was at that time: and (as I said) there is no mo such Caesars, other of them may haue crook'd Noses, but to owe such straite Armes, none

Cym. Son, let your Mother end

Clot. We haue yet many among vs, can gripe as hard as Cassibulan, I doe not say I am one: but I haue a hand. Why Tribute? Why should we pay Tribute? If Caesar can hide the Sun from vs with a Blanket, or put the Moon in his pocket, we will pay him Tribute for light: else Sir, no more Tribute, pray you now

Cym. You must know, Till the iniurious Romans, did extort This Tribute from vs, we were free. Caesars Ambition, Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch The sides o'th' World, against all colour heere, Did put the yoake vpon's; which to shake off Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon Our selues to be, we do. Say then to Caesar, Our Ancestor was that Mulmutius, which Ordain'd our Lawes, whose vse the Sword of Caesar Hath too much mangled; whose repayre, and franchise, Shall (by the power we hold) be our good deed, Tho Rome be therfore angry. Mulmutius made our lawes Who was the first of Britaine, which did put His browes within a golden Crowne, and call'd Himselfe a King

Luc. I am sorry Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar (Caesar, that hath moe Kings his Seruants, then Thy selfe Domesticke Officers) thine Enemy: Receyue it from me then. Warre, and Confusion In Caesars name pronounce I 'gainst thee: Looke For fury, not to be resisted. Thus defide, I thanke thee for my selfe

Cym. Thou art welcome Caius, Thy Caesar Knighted me; my youth I spent Much vnder him; of him, I gather'd Honour, Which he, to seeke of me againe, perforce, Behooues me keepe at vtterance. I am perfect, That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for Their Liberties are now in Armes: a President Which not to reade, would shew the Britaines cold: So Caesar shall not finde them

Luc. Let proofe speake

Clot. His Maiesty biddes you welcome. Make pastime with vs, a day, or two, or longer: if you seek vs afterwards in other tearmes, you shall finde vs in our Saltwater-Girdle: if you beate vs out of it, it is yours: if you fall in the aduenture, our Crowes shall fare the better for you: and there's an end

Luc. So sir

Cym. I know your Masters pleasure, and he mine: All the Remaine, is welcome.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Pisanio reading of a Letter.

Pis. How? of Adultery? Wherefore write you not What Monsters her accuse? Leonatus: Oh Master, what a strange infection Is falne into thy eare? What false Italian, (As poysonous tongu'd, as handed) hath preuail'd On thy too ready hearing? Disloyall? No. She's punish'd for her Truth; and vndergoes More Goddesse-like, then Wife-like; such Assaults As would take in some Vertue. Oh my Master, Thy mind to her, is now as lowe, as were Thy Fortunes. How? That I should murther her, Vpon the Loue, and Truth, and Vowes; which I Haue made to thy command? I her? Her blood? If it be so, to do good seruice, neuer Let me be counted seruiceable. How looke I, That I should seeme to lacke humanity, So much as this Fact comes to? Doo't: The Letter. That I haue sent her, by her owne command, Shall giue thee opportunitie. Oh damn'd paper, Blacke as the Inke that's on thee: senselesse bauble, Art thou a Foedarie for this Act; and look'st So Virgin-like without? Loe here she comes. Enter Imogen.

I am ignorant in what I am commanded

Imo. How now Pisanio? Pis. Madam, heere is a Letter from my Lord

Imo. Who, thy Lord? That is my Lord Leonatus? Oh, learn'd indeed were that Astronomer That knew the Starres, as I his Characters, Heel'd lay the Future open. You good Gods, Let what is heere contain'd, rellish of Loue, Of my Lords health, of his content: yet not That we two are asunder, let that grieue him; Some griefes are medcinable, that is one of them, For it doth physicke Loue, of his content, All but in that. Good Wax, thy leaue: blest be You Bees that make these Lockes of counsaile. Louers, And men in dangerous Bondes pray not alike, Though Forfeytours you cast in prison, yet You claspe young Cupids Tables: good Newes Gods. Iustice and your Fathers wrath (should he take me in his Dominion) could not be so cruell to me, as you: (oh the deerest of Creatures) would euen renew me with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria at Milford-Hauen: what your owne Loue, will out of this aduise you, follow. So he wishes you all happinesse, that remaines loyall to his Vow, and your encreasing in Loue. Leonatus Posthumus. Oh for a Horse with wings: Hear'st thou Pisanio? He is at Milford-Hauen: Read, and tell me How farre 'tis thither. If one of meane affaires May plod it in a weeke, why may not I Glide thither in a day? Then true Pisanio, Who long'st like me, to see thy Lord; who long'st (Oh let me bate) but not like me: yet long'st But in a fainter kinde. Oh not like me: For mine's beyond, beyond: say, and speake thicke (Loues Counsailor should fill the bores of hearing, To'th' smothering of the Sense) how farre it is To this same blessed Milford. And by'th' way Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as T' inherite such a Hauen. But first of all, How we may steale from hence: and for the gap That we shall make in Time, from our hence-going, And our returne, to excuse: but first, how get hence. Why should excuse be borne or ere begot? Weele talke of that heereafter. Prythee speake, How many store of Miles may we well rid Twixt houre, and houre? Pis. One score 'twixt Sun, and Sun, Madam's enough for you: and too much too

Imo. Why, one that rode to's Execution Man, Could neuer go so slow: I haue heard of Riding wagers, Where Horses haue bin nimbler then the Sands That run i'th' Clocks behalfe. But this is Foolrie, Go, bid my Woman faigne a Sicknesse, say She'le home to her Father; and prouide me presently A Riding Suit: No costlier then would fit A Franklins Huswife

Pisa. Madam, you're best consider

Imo. I see before me (Man) nor heere, nor heere; Nor what ensues but haue a Fog in them That I cannot looke through. Away, I prythee, Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say: Accessible is none but Milford way.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus.

Bel. A goodly day, not to keepe house with such, Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate Instructs you how t' adore the Heauens; and bowes you To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen, We house i'th' Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly As prouder liuers do

Guid. Haile Heauen

Aruir. Haile Heauen

Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider, When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow, That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off, And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you, Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre. This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done, But being so allowed. To apprehend thus, Drawes vs a profit from all things we see: And often to our comfort, shall we finde The sharded-Beetle, in a safer hold Then is the full-wing'd Eagle. Oh this life, Is Nobler, then attending for a checke: Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe: Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd-for Silke: Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine, Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours

Gui. Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th' nest; nor knowes not What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best, (If quiet life be best) sweeter to you That haue a sharper knowne. Well corresponding With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed, A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares To stride a limit

Arui. What should we speake of When we are old as you? When we shall heare The Raine and winde beate darke December? How In this our pinching Caue, shall we discourse The freezing houres away? We haue seene nothing: We are beastly; subtle as the Fox for prey, Like warlike as the Wolfe, for what we eate: Our Valour is to chace what flyes: Our Cage We make a Quire, as doth the prison'd Bird, And sing our Bondage freely

Bel. How you speake. Did you but know the Citties Vsuries, And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th' Court, As hard to leaue, as keepe: whose top to climbe Is certaine falling: or so slipp'ry, that The feare's as bad as falling. The toyle o'th' Warre, A paine that onely seemes to seeke out danger I'th' name of Fame, and Honor, which dyes i'th' search, And hath as oft a sland'rous Epitaph, As Record of faire Act. Nay, many times Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd With Roman Swords; and my report, was once First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me, And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night, A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will) Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues, And left me bare to weather

Gui. Vncertaine fauour

Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft) But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline, I was Confederate with the Romanes: so Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres, This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my World, Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed More pious debts to Heauen, then in all The fore-end of my time. But, vp to'th' Mountaines, This is not Hunters Language; he that strikes The Venison first, shall be the Lord o'th' Feast, To him the other two shall minister, And we will feare no poyson, which attends In place of greater State: Ile meete you in the Valleyes.

Exeunt.

How hard it is to hide the sparkes of Nature? These Boyes know little they are Sonnes to'th' King, Nor Cymbeline dreames that they are aliue. They thinke they are mine, And though train'd vp thus meanely I'th' Caue, whereon the Bowe their thoughts do hit, The Roofes of Palaces, and Nature prompts them In simple and lowe things, to Prince it, much Beyond the tricke of others. This Paladour, The heyre of Cymbeline and Britaine, who The King his Father call'd Guiderius. Ioue, When on my three-foot stoole I sit, and tell The warlike feats I haue done, his spirits flye out Into my Story: say thus mine Enemy fell, And thus I set my foote on's necke, euen then The Princely blood flowes in his Cheeke, he sweats, Straines his yong Nerues, and puts himselfe in posture That acts my words. The yonger Brother Cadwall, Once Aruiragus, in as like a figure Strikes life into my speech, and shewes much more His owne conceyuing. Hearke, the Game is rows'd, Oh Cymbeline, Heauen and my Conscience knowes Thou didd'st vniustly banish me: whereon At three, and two yeeres old, I stole these Babes, Thinking to barre thee of Succession, as Thou refts me of my Lands. Euriphile, Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother, And euery day do honor to her graue: My selfe Belarius, that am Mergan call'd They take for Naturall Father. The Game is vp. Enter.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Pisanio and Imogen.

Imo. Thou told'st me when we came fro[m] horse, y place Was neere at hand: Ne're long'd my Mother so To see me first, as I haue now. Pisanio, Man: Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh From th' inward of thee? One, but painted thus Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd Beyond selfe-explication. Put thy selfe Into a hauiour of lesse feare, ere wildnesse Vanquish my stayder Senses. What's the matter? Why render'st thou that Paper to me, with A looke vntender? If't be Summer Newes Smile too't before: if Winterly, thou need'st But keepe that count'nance stil. My Husbands hand? That Drug-damn'd Italy, hath out-craftied him, And hee's at some hard point. Speake man, thy Tongue May take off some extreamitie, which to reade Would be euen mortall to me

Pis. Please you reade, And you shall finde me (wretched man) a thing The most disdain'd of Fortune

Imogen reades. Thy Mistris (Pisanio) hath plaide the Strumpet in my Bed: the Testimonies whereof, lyes bleeding in me. I speak not out of weake Surmises, but from proofe as strong as my greefe, and as certaine as I expect my Reuenge. That part, thou (Pisanio) must acte for me, if thy Faith be not tainted with the breach of hers; let thine owne hands take away her life: I shall giue thee opportunity at Milford Hauen. She hath my Letter for the purpose; where, if thou feare to strike, and to make mee certaine it is done, thou art the Pander to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyall

Pis. What shall I need to draw my Sword, the Paper Hath cut her throat alreadie? No, 'tis Slander, Whose edge is sharper then the Sword, whose tongue Out-venomes all the Wormes of Nyle, whose breath Rides on the posting windes, and doth belye All corners of the World. Kings, Queenes, and States, Maides, Matrons, nay the Secrets of the Graue This viperous slander enters. What cheere, Madam? Imo. False to his Bed? What is it to be false? To lye in watch there, and to thinke on him? To weepe 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge Nature, To breake it with a fearfull dreame of him, And cry my selfe awake? That's false to's bed? Is it? Pisa. Alas good Lady

Imo. I false? Thy Conscience witnesse: Iachimo, Thou didd'st accuse him of Incontinencie, Thou then look'dst like a Villaine: now, me thinkes Thy fauours good enough. Some Iay of Italy (Whose mother was her painting) hath betraid him: Poore I am stale, a Garment out of fashion, And for I am richer then to hang by th' walles, I must be ript: To peeces with me: Oh! Mens Vowes are womens Traitors. All good seeming By thy reuolt (oh Husband) shall be thought Put on for Villainy; not borne where't growes, But worne a Baite for Ladies

Pisa. Good Madam, heare me

Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas, Were in his time thought false: and Synons weeping Did scandall many a holy teare: tooke pitty From most true wretchednesse. So thou, Posthumus Wilt lay the Leauen on all proper men; Goodly, and gallant, shall be false and periur'd From thy great faile: Come Fellow, be thou honest, Do thou thy Masters bidding. When thou seest him, A little witnesse my obedience. Looke I draw the Sword my selfe, take it, and hit The innocent Mansion of my Loue (my Heart:) Feare not, 'tis empty of all things, but Greefe: Thy Master is not there, who was indeede The riches of it. Do his bidding, strike, Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause; But now thou seem'st a Coward

Pis. Hence vile Instrument, Thou shalt not damne my hand

Imo. Why, I must dye: And if I do not by thy hand, thou art No Seruant of thy Masters. Against Selfe-slaughter, There is a prohibition so Diuine, That crauens my weake hand: Come, heere's my heart: Something's a-foot: Soft, soft, wee'l no defence, Obedient as the Scabbard. What is heere, The Scriptures of the Loyall Leonatus, All turn'd to Heresie? Away, away Corrupters of my Faith, you shall no more Be Stomachers to my heart: thus may pooru Fooles Beleeue false Teachers: Though those that are betraid Do feele the Treason sharpely, yet the Traitor Stands in worse case of woe. And thou Posthumus, That didd'st set vp my disobedience 'gainst the King My Father, and makes me put into contempt the suites Of Princely Fellowes, shalt heereafter finde It is no acte of common passage, but A straine of Rarenesse: and I greeue my selfe, To thinke, when thou shalt be disedg'd by her, That now thou tyrest on, how thy memory Will then be pang'd by me. Prythee dispatch, The Lambe entreats the Butcher. Wher's thy knife? Thou art too slow to do thy Masters bidding When I desire it too

Pis. Oh gracious Lady: Since I receiu'd command to do this businesse, I haue not slept one winke

Imo. Doo't, and to bed then

Pis. Ile wake mine eye-balles first

Imo. Wherefore then Didd'st vndertake it? Why hast thou abus'd So many Miles, with a pretence? This place? Mine Action? and thine owne? Our Horses labour? The Time inuiting thee? The perturb'd Court For my being absent? whereunto I neuer Purpose returne. Why hast thou gone so farre To be vn-bent? when thou hast 'tane thy stand, Th' elected Deere before thee? Pis. But to win time To loose so bad employment, in the which I haue consider'd of a course: good Ladie Heare me with patience

Imo. Talke thy tongue weary, speake: I haue heard I am a Strumpet, and mine eare Therein false strooke, can take no greater wound, Nor tent, to bottome that. But speake

Pis. Then Madam, I thought you would not backe againe

Imo. Most like, Bringing me heere to kill me

Pis. Not so neither: But if I were as wise, as honest, then My purpose would proue well: it cannot be, But that my Master is abus'd. Some Villaine, I, and singular in his Art, hath done you both This cursed iniurie

Imo. Some Roman Curtezan? Pisa. No, on my life: Ile giue but notice you are dead, and send him Some bloody signe of it. For 'tis commanded I should do so: you shall be mist at Court, And that will well confirme it

Imo. Why good Fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How liue? Or in my life, what comfort, when I am Dead to my Husband? Pis. If you'l backe to'th' Court

Imo. No Court, no Father, nor no more adoe With that harsh, noble, simple nothing: That Clotten, whose Loue-suite hath bene to me As fearefull as a Siege

Pis. If not at Court, Then not in Britaine must you bide

Imo. Where then? Hath Britaine all the Sunne that shines? Day? Night? Are they not but in Britaine? I'th' worlds Volume Our Britaine seemes as of it, but not in't: In a great Poole, a Swannes-nest, prythee thinke There's liuers out of Britaine

Pis. I am most glad You thinke of other place: Th' Ambassador, Lucius the Romane comes to Milford-Hauen To morrow. Now, if you could weare a minde Darke, as your Fortune is, and but disguise That which t' appeare it selfe, must not yet be, But by selfe-danger, you should tread a course Pretty, and full of view: yea, happily, neere The residence of Posthumus; so nie (at least) That though his Actions were not visible, yut Report should render him hourely to your eare, As truely as he mooues

Imo. Oh for such meanes, Though perill to my modestie, not death on't I would aduenture

Pis. Well then, heere's the point: You must forget to be a Woman: change Command, into obedience. Feare, and Nicenesse (The Handmaides of all Women, or more truely Woman it pretty selfe) into a waggish courage, Ready in gybes, quicke-answer'd, sawcie, and As quarrellous as the Weazell: Nay, you must Forget that rarest Treasure of your Cheeke, Exposing it (but oh the harder heart, Alacke no remedy) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan: and forget Your laboursome and dainty Trimmes, wherein You made great Iuno angry

Imo. Nay be breefe? I see into thy end, and am almost A man already

Pis. First, make your selfe but like one, Fore-thinking this. I haue already fit ('Tis in my Cloake-bagge) Doublet, Hat, Hose, all That answer to them: Would you in their seruing, (And with what imitation you can borrow From youth of such a season) 'fore Noble Lucius Present your selfe, desire his seruice: tell him Wherein you're happy; which will make him know, If that his head haue eare in Musicke, doubtlesse With ioy he will imbrace you: for hee's Honourable, And doubling that, most holy. Your meanes abroad: You haue me rich, and I will neuer faile Beginning, nor supplyment

Imo. Thou art all the comfort The Gods will diet me with. Prythee away, There's more to be consider'd: but wee'l euen All that good time will giue vs. This attempt, I am Souldier too, and will abide it with A Princes Courage. Away, I prythee

Pis. Well Madam, we must take a short farewell, Least being mist, I be suspected of Your carriage from the Court. My Noble Mistris, Heere is a boxe, I had it from the Queene, What's in't is precious: If you are sicke at Sea, Or Stomacke-qualm'd at Land, a Dramme of this Will driue away distemper. To some shade, And fit you to your Manhood: may the Gods Direct you to the best

Imo. Amen: I thanke thee.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Cymbeline, Queene, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords.

Cym. Thus farre, and so farewell

Luc. Thankes, Royall Sir: My Emperor hath wrote, I must from hence, And am right sorry, that I must report ye My Masters Enemy

Cym. Our Subiects (Sir) Will not endure his yoake; and for our selfe To shew lesse Soueraignty then they, must needs Appeare vn-Kinglike

Luc. So Sir: I desire of you A Conduct ouer Land, to Milford-Hauen. Madam, all ioy befall your Grace, and you

Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that Office: The due of Honor, in no point omit: So farewell Noble Lucius

Luc. Your hand, my Lord

Clot. Receiue it friendly: but from this time forth I weare it as your Enemy

Luc. Sir, the Euent Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well

Cym. Leaue not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords Till he haue crost the Seuern. Happines.

Exit Lucius, &c Qu. He goes hence frowning: but it honours vs That we haue giuen him cause

Clot. 'Tis all the better, Your valiant Britaines haue their wishes in it

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor How it goes heere. It fits vs therefore ripely Our Chariots, and our Horsemen be in readinesse: The Powres that he already hath in Gallia Will soone be drawne to head, from whence he moues His warre for Britaine

Qu. 'Tis not sleepy businesse, But must be look'd too speedily, and strongly

Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus Hath made vs forward. But my gentle Queene, Where is our Daughter? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman, nor to vs hath tender'd The duty of the day. She looke vs like A thing more made of malice, then of duty, We haue noted it. Call her before vs, for We haue beene too slight in sufferance

Qu. Royall Sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retyr'd Hath her life bin: the Cure whereof, my Lord, 'Tis time must do. Beseech your Maiesty, Forbeare sharpe speeches to her. Shee's a Lady So tender of rebukes, that words are stroke; And strokes death to her. Enter a Messenger.

Cym. Where is she Sir? How Can her contempt be answer'd? Mes. Please you Sir, Her Chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer That will be giuen to'th' lowd of noise, we make

Qu. My Lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close, Whereto constrain'd by her infirmitie, She should that dutie leaue vnpaide to you Which dayly she was bound to proffer: this She wish'd me to make knowne: but our great Court Made me too blame in memory

Cym. Her doores lock'd? Not seene of late? Grant Heauens, that which I Feare, proue false. Enter.

Qu. Sonne, I say, follow the King

Clot. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old Seruant I haue not seene these two dayes. Enter.

Qu. Go, looke after: Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus, He hath a Drugge of mine: I pray, his absence Proceed by swallowing that. For he beleeues It is a thing most precious. But for her, Where is she gone? Haply dispaire hath seiz'd her: Or wing'd with feruour of her loue, she's flowne To her desir'd Posthumus: gone she is, To death, or to dishonor, and my end Can make good vse of either. Shee being downe, I haue the placing of the Brittish Crowne. Enter Cloten.

How now, my Sonne? Clot. 'Tis certaine she is fled: Go in and cheere the King, he rages, none Dare come about him

Qu. All the better: may This night fore-stall him of the comming day.

Exit Qu.

Clo. I loue, and hate her: for she's Faire and Royall, And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Then Lady, Ladies, Woman, from euery one The best she hath, and she of all compounded Out-selles them all. I loue her therefore, but Disdaining me, and throwing Fauours on The low Posthumus, slanders so her iudgement, That what's else rare, is choak'd: and in that point I will conclude to hate her, nay indeede, To be reueng'd vpon her. For, when Fooles shall- Enter Pisanio.

Who is heere? What, are you packing sirrah? Come hither: Ah you precious Pandar, Villaine, Where is thy Lady? In a word, or else Thou art straightway with the Fiends

Pis. Oh, good my Lord

Clo. Where is thy Lady? Or, by Iupiter, I will not aske againe. Close Villaine, Ile haue this Secret from thy heart, or rip Thy heart to finde it. Is she with Posthumus? From whose so many waights of basenesse, cannot A dram of worth be drawne

Pis. Alas, nay Lord, How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? He is in Rome

Clot. Where is she Sir? Come neerer: No farther halting: satisfie me home, What is become of her? Pis. Oh, my all-worthy Lord

Clo. All-worthy Villaine, Discouer where thy Mistris is, at once, At the next word: no more of worthy Lord: Speake, or thy silence on the instant, is Thy condemnation, and thy death

Pis. Then Sir: This Paper is the historie of my knowledge Touching her flight

Clo. Let's see't: I will pursue her Euen to Augustus Throne

Pis. Or this, or perish. She's farre enough, and what he learnes by this, May proue his trauell, not her danger

Clo. Humh

Pis. Ile write to my Lord she's dead: Oh Imogen, Safe mayst thou wander, safe returne agen

Clot. Sirra, is this Letter true? Pis. Sir, as I thinke

Clot. It is Posthumus hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou would'st not be a Villain, but do me true seruice: vndergo those Imployments wherin I should haue cause to vse thee with a serious industry, that is, what villainy soere I bid thee do to performe it, directly and truely, I would thinke thee an honest man: thou should'st neither want my meanes for thy releefe, nor my voyce for thy preferment

Pis. Well, my good Lord

Clot. Wilt thou serue mee? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stucke to the bare Fortune of that Begger Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serue mee? Pis. Sir, I will

Clo. Giue mee thy hand, heere's my purse. Hast any of thy late Masters Garments in thy possession? Pisan. I haue (my Lord) at my Lodging, the same Suite he wore, when he tooke leaue of my Ladie & Mistresse

Clo. The first seruice thou dost mee, fetch that Suite hither, let it be thy first seruice, go

Pis. I shall my Lord. Enter.

Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Hauen: (I forgot to aske him one thing, Ile remember't anon:) euen there, thou villaine Posthumus will I kill thee. I would these Garments were come. She saide vpon a time (the bitternesse of it, I now belch from my heart) that shee held the very Garment of Posthumus, in more respect, then my Noble and naturall person; together with the adornement of my Qualities. With that Suite vpon my backe wil I rauish her: first kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see my valour, which wil then be a torment to hir contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insulment ended on his dead bodie, and when my Lust hath dined (which, as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the Cloathes that she so prais'd:) to the Court Ile knock her backe, foot her home againe. She hath despis'd mee reioycingly, and Ile bee merry in my Reuenge. Enter Pisanio.

Be those the Garments? Pis. I, my Noble Lord

Clo. How long is't since she went to Milford-Hauen? Pis. She can scarse be there yet

Clo. Bring this Apparrell to my Chamber, that is the second thing that I haue commanded thee. The third is, that thou wilt be a voluntarie Mute to my designe. Be but dutious, and true preferment shall tender it selfe to thee. My Reuenge is now at Milford, would I had wings to follow it. Come, and be true.

Exit

Pis. Thou bid'st me to my losse: for true to thee, Were to proue false, which I will neuer bee To him that is most true. To Milford go, And finde not her, whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow You Heauenly blessings on her: This Fooles speede Be crost with slownesse; Labour be his meede.

Exit

Scena Sexta.

Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. I see a mans life is a tedious one, I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke, But that my resolution helpes me: Milford, When from the Mountaine top, Pisanio shew'd thee, Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane, Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me, I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment, or Triall? Yes; no wonder, When Rich-ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse Is sorer, then to lye for Neede: and Falshood Is worse in Kings, then Beggers. My deere Lord, Thou art one o'th' false Ones: Now I thinke on thee, My hunger's gone; but euen before, I was At point to sinke, for Food. But what is this? Heere is a path too't: 'tis some sauage hold: I were best not call; I dare not call: yet Famine Ere cleane it o're-throw Nature, makes it valiant. Plentie, and Peace breeds Cowards: Hardnesse euer Of Hardinesse is Mother. Hoa? who's heere? If any thing that's ciuill, speake: if sauage, Take, or lend. Hoa? No answer? Then Ile enter. Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy But feare the Sword like me, hee'l scarsely looke on't. Such a Foe, good Heauens. Enter.

Scena Septima.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus

Bel. You Polidore haue prou'd best Woodman, and Are Master of the Feast: Cadwall, and I Will play the Cooke, and Seruant, 'tis our match: The sweat of industry would dry, and dye But for the end it workes too. Come, our stomackes Will make what's homely, sauoury: Wearinesse Can snore vpon the Flint, when restie Sloth Findes the Downe-pillow hard. Now peace be heere, Poore house, that keep'st thy selfe

Gui. I am throughly weary

Arui. I am weake with toyle, yet strong in appetite

Gui. There is cold meat i'th' Caue, we'l brouz on that Whil'st what we haue kill'd, be Cook'd

Bel. Stay, come not in: But that it eates our victualles, I should thinke Heere were a Faiery

Gui. What's the matter, Sir? Bel. By Iupiter an Angell: or if not An earthly Paragon. Behold Diuinenesse No elder then a Boy. Enter Imogen.

Imo. Good masters harme me not: Before I enter'd heere, I call'd, and thought To haue begg'd, or bought, what I haue took: good troth I haue stolne nought, nor would not, though I had found Gold strew'd i'th' Floore. Heere's money for my Meate, I would haue left it on the Boord, so soone As I had made my Meale; and parted With Pray'rs for the Prouider

Gui. Money? Youth

Aru. All Gold and Siluer rather turne to durt, As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those Who worship durty Gods

Imo. I see you're angry: Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should Haue dyed, had I not made it

Bel. Whether bound? Imo. To Milford-Hauen

Bel. What's your name? Imo. Fidele Sir: I haue a Kinsman, who Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford, To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, I am falne in this offence

Bel. Prythee (faire youth) Thinke vs no Churles: nor measure our good mindes By this rude place we liue in. Well encounter'd, 'Tis almost night, you shall haue better cheere Ere you depart; and thankes to stay, and eate it: Boyes, bid him welcome

Gui. Were you a woman, youth, I should woo hard, but be your Groome in honesty: I bid for you, as I do buy

Arui. Ile make't my Comfort He is a man, Ile loue him as my Brother: And such a welcome as I'ld giue to him (After long absence) such is yours. Most welcome: Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst Friends

Imo. 'Mongst Friends? If Brothers: would it had bin so, that they Had bin my Fathers Sonnes, then had my prize Bin lesse, and so more equall ballasting To thee Posthumus

Bel. He wrings at some distresse

Gui. Would I could free't

Arui. Or I, what ere it be, What paine it cost, what danger: Gods! Bel. Hearke Boyes

Imo. Great men That had a Court no bigger then this Caue, That did attend themselues, and had the vertue Which their owne Conscience seal'd them: laying by That nothing-guift of differing Multitudes Could not out-peere these twaine. Pardon me Gods, I'ld change my sexe to be Companion with them, Since Leonatus false

Bel. It shall be so: Boyes wee'l go dresse our Hunt. Faire youth come in; Discourse is heauy, fasting: when we haue supp'd Wee'l mannerly demand thee of thy Story, So farre as thou wilt speake it

Gui. Pray draw neere

Arui. The Night to'th' Owle, And Morne to th' Larke lesse welcome

Imo. Thankes Sir

Arui. I pray draw neere.

Exeunt.

Scena Octaua.

Enter two Roman Senators, and Tribunes.

1.Sen. This is the tenor of the Emperors Writ; That since the common men are now in Action 'Gainst the Pannonians, and Dalmatians, And that the Legions now in Gallia, are Full weake to vndertake our Warres against The falne-off Britaines, that we do incite The Gentry to this businesse. He creates Lucius Pro-Consull: and to you the Tribunes For this immediate Leuy, he commands His absolute Commission. Long liue Caesar

Tri. Is Lucius Generall of the Forces? 2.Sen. I

Tri. Remaining now in Gallia? 1.Sen. With those Legions Which I haue spoke of, whereunto your leuie Must be suppliant: the words of your Commission Will tye you to the numbers, and the time Of their dispatch

Tri. We will discharge our duty.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clotten alone.

Clot I am neere to'th' place where they should meet, if Pisanio haue mapp'd it truely. How fit his Garments serue me? Why should his Mistris who was made by him that made the Taylor, not be fit too? The rather (sauing reuerence of the Word) for 'tis saide a Womans fitnesse comes by fits: therein I must play the Workman, I dare speake it to my selfe, for it is not Vainglorie for a man, and his Glasse, to confer in his owne Chamber; I meane, the Lines of my body are as well drawne as his; no lesse young, more strong, not beneath him in Fortunes, beyond him in the aduantage of the time, aboue him in Birth, alike conuersant in generall seruices, and more remarkeable in single oppositions; yet this imperseuerant Thing loues him in my despight. What Mortalitie is? Posthumus, thy head (which now is growing vppon thy shoulders) shall within this houre be off, thy Mistris inforced, thy Garments cut to peeces before thy face: and all this done, spurne her home to her Father, who may (happily) be a little angry for my so rough vsage: but my Mother hauing power of his testinesse, shall turne all into my commendations. My Horse is tyed vp safe, out Sword, and to a sore purpose: Fortune put them into my hand: This is the very description of their meeting place and the Fellow dares not deceiue me. Enter.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, and Imogen from the Caue.

Bel. You are not well: Remaine heere in the Caue, Wee'l come to you after Hunting

Arui. Brother, stay heere: Are we not Brothers? Imo. So man and man should be, But Clay and Clay, differs in dignitie, Whose dust is both alike. I am very sicke, Gui. Go you to Hunting, Ile abide with him

Imo. So sicke I am not, yet I am not well: But not so Citizen a wanton, as To seeme to dye, ere sicke: So please you, leaue me, Sticke to your Iournall course: the breach of Custome, Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me Cannot amend me. Society, is no comfort To one not sociable: I am not very sicke, Since I can reason of it: pray you trust me heere, Ile rob none but my selfe, and let me dye Stealing so poorely

Gui. I loue thee: I haue spoke it, How much the quantity, the waight as much, As I do loue my Father

Bel. What? How? how? Arui. If it be sinne to say so (Sir) I yoake mee In my good Brothers fault: I know not why I loue this youth, and I haue heard you say, Loue's reason's, without reason. The Beere at doore, And a demand who is't shall dye, I'ld say My Father, not this youth

Bel. Oh noble straine! O worthinesse of Nature, breed of Greatnesse! ``Cowards father Cowards, & Base things Syre Bace; ``Nature hath Meale, and Bran; Contempt, and Grace. I'me not their Father, yet who this should bee, Doth myracle it selfe, lou'd before mee. 'Tis the ninth houre o'th' Morne

Arui. Brother, farewell

Imo. I wish ye sport

Arui. You health. - So please you Sir

Imo. These are kinde Creatures. Gods, what lyes I haue heard: Our Courtiers say, all's sauage, but at Court; Experience, oh thou disproou'st Report. Th' emperious Seas breeds Monsters; for the Dish, Poore Tributary Riuers, as sweet Fish: I am sicke still, heart-sicke; Pisanio, Ile now taste of thy Drugge

Gui. I could not stirre him: He said he was gentle, but vnfortunate; Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest

Arui. Thus did he answer me: yet said heereafter, I might know more

Bel. To'th' Field, to'th' Field: Wee'l leaue you for this time, go in, and rest

Arui. Wee'l not be long away

Bel. Pray be not sicke, For you must be our Huswife

Imo. Well, or ill, I am bound to you. Enter.

Bel. And shal't be euer. This youth, how ere distrest, appeares he hath had Good Ancestors

Arui. How Angell-like he sings? Gui. But his neate Cookerie? Arui. He cut our Rootes in Charracters, And sawc'st our Brothes, as Iuno had bin sicke, And he her Dieter

Arui. Nobly he yoakes A smiling, with a sigh; as if the sighe Was that it was, for not being such a Smile: The Smile, mocking the Sigh, that it would flye From so diuine a Temple, to commix With windes, that Saylors raile at

Gui. I do note, That greefe and patience rooted in them both, Mingle their spurres together

Arui. Grow patient, And let the stinking-Elder (Greefe) vntwine His perishing roote, with the encreasing Vine

Bel. It is great morning. Come away: Who's there? Enter Cloten.

Clo. I cannot finde those Runnagates, that Villaine Hath mock'd me. I am faint

Bel. Those Runnagates? Meanes he not vs? I partly know him, 'tis Cloten, the Sonne o'th' Queene. I feare some Ambush: I saw him not these many yeares, and yet I know 'tis he: We are held as Out-Lawes: Hence

Gui. He is but one: you, and my Brother search What Companies are neere: pray you away, Let me alone with him

Clot. Soft, what are you That flye me thus? Some villaine-Mountainers? I haue heard of such. What Slaue art thou? Gui. A thing More slauish did I ne're, then answering A Slaue without a knocke

Clot. Thou art a Robber, A Law-breaker, a Villaine: yeeld thee Theefe

Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Haue not I An arme as bigge as thine? A heart, as bigge: Thy words I grant are bigger: for I weare not My Dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art: Why I should yeeld to thee? Clot. Thou Villaine base, Know'st me not by my Cloathes? Gui. No, nor thy Taylor, Rascall: Who is thy Grandfather? He made those cloathes, Which (as it seemes) make thee

Clo. Thou precious Varlet, My Taylor made them not

Gui. Hence then, and thanke The man that gaue them thee. Thou art some Foole, I am loath to beate thee

Clot. Thou iniurious Theefe, Heare but my name, and tremble

Gui. What's thy name? Clo. Cloten, thou Villaine

Gui. Cloten, thou double Villaine be thy name, I cannot tremble at it, were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, 'Twould moue me sooner

Clot. To thy further feare, Nay, to thy meere Confusion, thou shalt know I am Sonne to'th' Queene

Gui. I am sorry for't: not seeming So worthy as thy Birth

Clot. Art not afeard? Gui. Those that I reuerence, those I feare: the Wise: At Fooles I laugh: not feare them

Clot. Dye the death: When I haue slaine thee with my proper hand, Ile follow those that euen now fled hence: And on the Gates of Luds-Towne set your heads: Yeeld Rusticke Mountaineer.

Fight and Exeunt.

Enter Belarius and Aruiragus.

Bel. No Companie's abroad? Arui. None in the world: you did mistake him sure

Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him, But Time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Fauour Which then he wore: the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute 'Twas very Cloten

Arui. In this place we left them; I wish my Brother make good time with him, You say he is so fell

Bel. Being scarse made vp, I meane to man; he had not apprehension Of roaring terrors: For defect of iudgement Is oft the cause of Feare. Enter Guiderius.

But see thy Brother

Gui. This Cloten was a Foole, an empty purse, There was no money in't: Not Hercules Could haue knock'd out his Braines, for he had none: Yet I not doing this, the Foole had borne My head, as I do his

Bel. What hast thou done? Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head, Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report) Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and swore With his owne single hand heel'd take vs in, Displace our heads, where (thanks the Gods) they grow And set them on Luds-Towne

Bel. We are all vndone

Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose, But that he swore to take our Liues? the Law Protects not vs, then why should we be tender, To let an arrogant peece of flesh threat vs? Play Iudge, and Executioner, all himselfe? For we do feare the Law. What company Discouer you abroad? Bel. No single soule Can we set eye on: but in all safe reason He must haue some Attendants. Though his Honor Was nothing but mutation, I, and that From one bad thing to worse: Not Frenzie, Not absolute madnesse could so farre haue rau'd To bring him heere alone: although perhaps It may be heard at Court, that such as wee Caue heere, hunt heere, are Out-lawes, and in time May make some stronger head, the which he hearing, (As it is like him) might breake out, and sweare Heel'd fetch vs in, yet is't not probable To come alone, either he so vndertaking, Or they so suffering: then on good ground we feare, If we do feare this Body hath a taile More perillous then the head

Arui. Let Ord'nance Come as the Gods fore-say it: howsoere, My Brother hath done well

Bel. I had no minde To hunt this day: The Boy Fideles sickenesse Did make my way long forth

Gui. With his owne Sword, Which he did waue against my throat, I haue tane His head from him: Ile throw't into the Creeke Behinde our Rocke, and let it to the Sea, And tell the Fishes, hee's the Queenes Sonne, Cloten, That's all I reake. Enter.

Bel. I feare 'twill be reueng'd: Would (Polidore) thou had'st not done't: though valour Becomes thee well enough

Arui. Would I had done't: So the Reuenge alone pursu'de me: Polidore I loue thee brotherly, but enuy much Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would Reuenges That possible strength might meet, wold seek vs through And put vs to our answer

Bel. Well, 'tis done: Wee'l hunt no more to day, nor seeke for danger Where there's no profit. I prythee to our Rocke, You and Fidele play the Cookes: Ile stay Till hasty Polidore returne, and bring him To dinner presently

Arui. Poore sicke Fidele. Ile willingly to him, to gaine his colour, Il'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, And praise my selfe for charity. Enter.

Bel. Oh thou Goddesse, Thou diuine Nature; thou thy selfe thou blazon'st In these two Princely Boyes: they are as gentle As Zephires blowing below the Violet, Not wagging his sweet head; and yet, as rough (Their Royall blood enchaf'd) as the rud'st winde, That by the top doth take the Mountaine Pine, And make him stoope to th' Vale. 'Tis wonder That an inuisible instinct should frame them To Royalty vnlearn'd, Honor vntaught, Ciuility not seene from other: valour That wildely growes in them, but yeelds a crop As if it had beene sow'd: yet still it's strange What Clotens being heere to vs portends, Or what his death will bring vs. Enter Guidereus.

Gui. Where's my Brother? I haue sent Clotens Clot-pole downe the streame, In Embassie to his Mother; his Bodie's hostage For his returne.

Solemn Musick.

Bel. My ingenuous Instrument, (Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion? Hearke

Gui. Is he at home? Bel. He went hence euen now

Gui. What does he meane? Since death of my deer'st Mother It did not speake before. All solemne things Should answer solemne Accidents. The matter? Triumphes for nothing, and lamenting Toyes, Is iollity for Apes, and greefe for Boyes. Is Cadwall mad? Enter Aruiragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in his Armes.

Bel. Looke, heere he comes, And brings the dire occasion in his Armes, Of what we blame him for

Arui. The Bird is dead That we haue made so much on. I had rather Haue skipt from sixteene yeares of Age, to sixty: To haue turn'd my leaping time into a Crutch, Then haue seene this

Gui. Oh sweetest, fayrest Lilly: My Brother weares thee not the one halfe so well, As when thou grew'st thy selfe

Bel. Oh Melancholly, Who euer yet could sound thy bottome? Finde The Ooze, to shew what Coast thy sluggish care Might'st easilest harbour in. Thou blessed thing, Ioue knowes what man thou might'st haue made: but I, Thou dyed'st a most rare Boy, of Melancholly. How found you him? Arui. Starke, as you see: Thus smiling, as some Fly had tickled slumber, Not as deaths dart being laugh'd at: his right Cheeke Reposing on a Cushion

Gui. Where? Arui. O'th' floore: His armes thus leagu'd, I thought he slept, and put My clowted Brogues from off my feete, whose rudenesse Answer'd my steps too lowd

Gui. Why, he but sleepes: If he be gone, hee'l make his Graue, a Bed: With female Fayries will his Tombe be haunted, And Wormes will not come to thee

Arui. With fayrest Flowers Whil'st Sommer lasts, and I liue heere, Fidele, Ile sweeten thy sad graue: thou shalt not lacke The Flower that's like thy face. Pale-Primrose, nor The azur'd Hare-Bell, like thy Veines: no, nor The leafe of Eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweetned not thy breath: the Raddocke would With Charitable bill (Oh bill sore shaming Those rich-left-heyres, that let their Fathers lye Without a Monument) bring thee all this, Yea, and furr'd Mosse besides. When Flowres are none To winter-ground thy Coarse- Gui. Prythee haue done, And do not play in Wench-like words with that Which is so serious. Let vs bury him, And not protract with admiration, what Is now due debt. To'th' graue

Arui. Say, where shall's lay him? Gui. By good Euriphile, our Mother

Arui. Bee't so: And let vs (Polidore) though now our voyces Haue got the mannish cracke, sing him to'th' ground As once to our Mother: vse like note, and words, Saue that Euriphile, must be Fidele

Gui. Cadwall, I cannot sing: Ile weepe, and word it with thee; For Notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse Then Priests, and Phanes that lye

Arui. Wee'l speake it then

Bel. Great greefes I see med'cine the lesse: For Cloten Is quite forgot. He was a Queenes Sonne, Boyes, And though he came our Enemy, remember He was paid for that: though meane, and mighty rotting Together haue one dust, yet Reuerence (That Angell of the world) doth make distinction Of place 'tweene high, and low. Our Foe was Princely, And though you tooke his life, as being our Foe, Yet bury him, as a Prince

Gui. Pray you fetch him hither, Thersites body is as good as Aiax, When neyther are aliue

Arui. If you'l go fetch him, Wee'l say our Song the whil'st: Brother begin

Gui. Nay Cadwall, we must lay his head to th' East, My Father hath a reason for't

Arui. 'Tis true

Gui. Come on then, and remoue him

Arui. So, begin.

SONG.

Guid. Feare no more the heate o'th' Sun, Nor the furious Winters rages, Thou thy worldly task hast don, Home art gon, and tane thy wages. Golden Lads, and Girles all must, As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust

Arui. Feare no more the frowne o'th' Great, Thou art past the Tirants stroake, Care no more to cloath and eate, To thee the Reede is as the Oake: The Scepter, Learning, Physicke must, All follow this and come to dust

Guid. Feare no more the Lightning flash

Arui. Nor th' all-dreaded Thunderstone

Gui. Feare not Slander, Censure rash

Arui. Thou hast finish'd Ioy and mone

Both. All Louers young, all Louers must, Consigne to thee and come to dust

Guid. No Exorcisor harme thee, Arui. Nor no witch-craft charme thee

Guid. Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee

Arui. Nothing ill come neere thee

Both. Quiet consumation haue, And renowned be thy graue. Enter Belarius with the body of Cloten.

Gui. We haue done our obsequies: Come lay him downe

Bel. Heere's a few Flowres, but 'bout midnight more: The hearbes that haue on them cold dew o'th' night Are strewings fit'st for Graues: vpon their Faces. You were as Flowres, now wither'd: euen so These Herbelets shall, which we vpon you strew. Come on, away, apart vpon our knees: The ground that gaue them first, ha's them againe: Their pleasures here are past, so are their paine.

Exeunt.

Imogen awakes.

Yes Sir, to Milford-Hauen, which is the way? I thanke you: by yond bush? pray how farre thether? 'Ods pittikins: can it be sixe mile yet? I haue gone all night: 'Faith, Ile lye downe, and sleepe. But soft; no Bedfellow? Oh Gods, and Goddesses! These Flowres are like the pleasures of the World; This bloody man the care on't. I hope I dreame: For so I thought I was a Caue-keeper, And Cooke to honest Creatures. But 'tis not so: 'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot of nothing, Which the Braine makes of Fumes. Our very eyes, Are sometimes like our Iudgements, blinde. Good faith I tremble still with feare: but if there be Yet left in Heauen, as small a drop of pittie As a Wrens eye; fear'd Gods, a part of it. The Dreame's heere still: euen when I wake it is Without me, as within me: not imagin'd, felt. A headlesse man? The Garments of Posthumus? I know the shape of's Legge: this is his Hand: His Foote Mercuriall: his martiall Thigh The brawnes of Hercules: but his Iouiall face- Murther in heauen? How? 'tis gone. Pisanio, All Curses madded Hecuba gaue the Greekes, And mine to boot, be darted on thee: thou Conspir'd with that Irregulous diuell Cloten, Hath heere cut off my Lord. To write, and read, Be henceforth treacherous. Damn'd Pisanio, Hath with his forged Letters (damn'd Pisanio) From this most brauest vessell of the world Strooke the maine top! Oh Posthumus, alas, Where is thy head? where's that? Aye me! where's that? Pisanio might haue kill'd thee at the heart, And left this head on. How should this be, Pisanio? 'Tis he, and Cloten: Malice, and Lucre in them Haue laid this Woe heere. Oh 'tis pregnant, pregnant! The Drugge he gaue me, which hee said was precious And Cordiall to me, haue I not found it Murd'rous to'th' Senses? That confirmes it home: This is Pisanio's deede, and Cloten: Oh! Giue colour to my pale cheeke with thy blood, That we the horrider may seeme to those Which chance to finde vs. Oh, my Lord! my Lord! Enter Lucius, Captaines, and a Soothsayer.

Cap. To them, the Legions garrison'd in Gallia After your will, haue crost the Sea, attending You heere at Milford-Hauen, with your Shippes: They are heere in readinesse

Luc. But what from Rome? Cap. The Senate hath stirr'd vp the Confiners, And Gentlemen of Italy, most willing Spirits, That promise Noble Seruice: and they come Vnder the Conduct of bold Iachimo, Syenna's Brother

Luc. When expect you them? Cap. With the next benefit o'th' winde

Luc. This forwardnesse Makes our hopes faire. Command our present numbers Be muster'd: bid the Captaines looke too't. Now Sir, What haue you dream'd of late of this warres purpose

Sooth. Last night, the very Gods shew'd me a vision (I fast, and pray'd for their Intelligence) thus: I saw Ioues Bird, the Roman Eagle wing'd From the spungy South, to this part of the West, There vanish'd in the Sun-beames, which portends (Vnlesse my sinnes abuse my Diuination) Successe to th' Roman hoast

Luc. Dreame often so, And neuer false. Soft hoa, what truncke is heere? Without his top? The ruine speakes, that sometime It was a worthy building. How? a Page? Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather: For Nature doth abhorre to make his bed With the defunct, or sleepe vpon the dead. Let's see the Boyes face

Cap. Hee's aliue my Lord

Luc. Hee'l then instruct vs of this body: Young one, Informe vs of thy Fortunes, for it seemes They craue to be demanded: who is this Thou mak'st thy bloody Pillow? Or who was he That (otherwise then noble Nature did) Hath alter'd that good Picture? What's thy interest In this sad wracke? How came't? Who is't? What art thou? Imo. I am nothing; or if not, Nothing to be were better: This was my Master, A very valiant Britaine, and a good, That heere by Mountaineers lyes slaine: Alas, There is no more such Masters: I may wander From East to Occident, cry out for Seruice, Try many, all good: serue truly: neuer Finde such another Master

Luc. 'Lacke, good youth: Thou mou'st no lesse with thy complaining, then Thy Maister in bleeding: say his name, good Friend

Imo. Richard du Champ: If I do lye, and do No harme by it, though the Gods heare, I hope They'l pardon it. Say you Sir? Luc. Thy name? Imo. Fidele Sir

Luc. Thou doo'st approue thy selfe the very same: Thy Name well fits thy Faith; thy Faith, thy Name: Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say Thou shalt be so well master'd, but be sure No lesse belou'd. The Romane Emperors Letters Sent by a Consull to me, should not sooner Then thine owne worth preferre thee: Go with me

Imo. Ile follow Sir. But first, and't please the Gods, Ile hide my Master from the Flies, as deepe As these poore Pickaxes can digge: and when With wild wood-leaues & weeds, I ha' strew'd his graue And on it said a Century of prayers (Such as I can) twice o're, Ile weepe, and sighe, And leauing so his seruice, follow you, So please you entertaine mee

Luc. I good youth, And rather Father thee, then Master thee: My Friends, The Boy hath taught vs manly duties: Let vs Finde out the prettiest Dazied-Plot we can, And make him with our Pikes and Partizans A Graue: Come, Arme him: Boy hee's preferr'd By thee, to vs, and he shall be interr'd As Souldiers can. Be cheerefull; wipe thine eyes, Some Falles are meanes the happier to arise.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pisanio.

Cym. Againe: and bring me word how 'tis with her, A Feauour with the absence of her Sonne; A madnesse, of which her life's in danger: Heauens, How deeply you at once do touch me. Imogen, The great part of my comfort, gone: My Queene Vpon a desperate bed, and in a time When fearefull Warres point at me: Her Sonne gone, So needfull for this present? It strikes me, past The hope of comfort. But for thee, Fellow, Who needs must know of her departure, and Dost seeme so ignorant, wee'l enforce it from thee By a sharpe Torture

Pis. Sir, my life is yours, I humbly set it at your will: But for my Mistris, I nothing know where she remaines: why gone, Nor when she purposes returne. Beseech your Highnes, Hold me your loyall Seruant

Lord. Good my Liege, The day that she was missing, he was heere; I dare be bound hee's true, and shall performe All parts of his subiection loyally. For Cloten, There wants no diligence in seeking him, And will no doubt be found

Cym. The time is troublesome: Wee'l slip you for a season, but our iealousie Do's yet depend

Lord. So please your Maiesty, The Romaine Legions, all from Gallia drawne, Are landed on your Coast, with a supply Of Romaine Gentlemen, by the Senate sent

Cym. Now for the Counsaile of my Son and Queen, I am amaz'd with matter

Lord. Good my Liege, Your preparation can affront no lesse Then what you heare of. Come more, for more you're ready: The want is, but to put those Powres in motion, That long to moue

Cym. I thanke you: let's withdraw And meete the Time, as it seekes vs. We feare not What can from Italy annoy vs, but We greeue at chances heere. Away.

Exeunt.

Pisa. I heard no Letter from my Master, since I wrote him Imogen was slaine. 'Tis strange: Nor heare I from my Mistris, who did promise To yeeld me often tydings. Neither know I What is betide to Cloten, but remaine Perplext in all. The Heauens still must worke: Wherein I am false, I am honest: not true, to be true. These present warres shall finde I loue my Country, Euen to the note o'th' King, or Ile fall in them: All other doubts, by time let them be cleer'd, Fortune brings in some Boats, that are not steer'd. Enter.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, & Aruiragus.

Gui. The noyse is round about vs

Bel. Let vs from it

Arui. What pleasure Sir, we finde in life, to locke it From Action, and Aduenture

Gui. Nay, what hope Haue we in hiding vs? This way the Romaines Must, or for Britaines slay vs, or receiue vs For barbarous and vnnaturall Reuolts During their vse, and slay vs after

Bel. Sonnes, Wee'l higher to the Mountaines, there secure vs. To the Kings party there's no going: newnesse Of Clotens death (we being not knowne, nor muster'd Among the Bands) may driue vs to a render Where we haue liu'd; and so extort from's that Which we haue done, whose answer would be death Drawne on with Torture

Gui. This is (Sir) a doubt In such a time, nothing becomming you, Nor satisfying vs

Arui. It is not likely, That when they heare their Roman horses neigh, Behold their quarter'd Fires; haue both their eyes And eares so cloyd importantly as now, That they will waste their time vpon our note, To know from whence we are

Bel. Oh, I am knowne Of many in the Army: Many yeeres (Though Cloten then but young) you see, not wore him From my remembrance. And besides, the King Hath not deseru'd my Seruice, nor your Loues, Who finde in my Exile, the want of Breeding; The certainty of this heard life, aye hopelesse To haue the courtesie your Cradle promis'd, But to be still hot Summers Tanlings, and The shrinking Slaues of Winter

Gui. Then be so, Better to cease to be. Pray Sir, to'th' Army: I, and my Brother are not knowne; your selfe So out of thought, and thereto so ore-growne, Cannot be question'd

Arui. By this Sunne that shines Ile thither: What thing is't, that I neuer Did see man dye, scarse euer look'd on blood, But that of Coward Hares, hot Goats, and Venison? Neuer bestrid a Horse saue one, that had A Rider like my selfe, who ne're wore Rowell, Nor Iron on his heele? I am asham'd To looke vpon the holy Sunne, to haue The benefit of his blest Beames, remaining So long a poore vnknowne

Gui. By heauens Ile go, If you will blesse me Sir, and giue me leaue, Ile take the better care: but if you will not, The hazard therefore due fall on me, by The hands of Romaines

Arui. So say I, Amen

Bel. No reason I (since of your liues you set So slight a valewation) should reserue My crack'd one to more care. Haue with you Boyes: If in your Country warres you chance to dye, That is my Bed too (Lads) and there Ile lye. Lead, lead; the time seems long, their blood thinks scorn Till it flye out, and shew them Princes borne.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Posthumus alone.

Post. Yea bloody cloth, Ile keep thee: for I am wisht Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, If each of you should take this course, how many Must murther Wiues much better then themselues For wrying but a little? Oh Pisanio, Euery good Seruant do's not all Commands: No Bond, but to do iust ones. Gods, if you Should haue 'tane vengeance on my faults, I neuer Had liu'd to put on this: so had you saued The noble Imogen, to repent, and strooke Me (wretch) more worth your Vengeance. But alacke, You snatch some hence for little faults; that's loue To haue them fall no more: you some permit To second illes with illes, each elder worse, And make them dread it, to the dooers thrift. But Imogen is your owne, do your best willes, And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither Among th' Italian Gentry, and to fight Against my Ladies Kingdome: 'Tis enough That (Britaine) I haue kill'd thy Mistris: Peace, Ile giue no wound to thee: therefore good Heauens, Heare patiently my purpose. Ile disrobe me Of these Italian weedes, and suite my selfe As do's a Britaine Pezant: so Ile fight Against the