Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Jane Robins and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net










_THE WORKS_

OF

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

[Illustration]




    THE WORKS

    OF

    WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE


    EDITED BY

    WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK, M.A.

    FELLOW AND TUTOR OF TRINITY COLLEGE, AND PUBLIC ORATOR IN THE
    UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE;

    AND WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A.

    LIBRARIAN OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.


    _VOLUME III._


    Cambridge and London:

    MACMILLAN AND CO.

    1863.

    CAMBRIDGE:
    PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY, M.A.
    AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.




CONTENTS.


                                                            PAGE
    The Preface                                              vii

    THE TAMING OF THE SHREW                                    3

    Notes to The Taming of The Shrew                         101

    ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL                                109

    Notes to All's Well That Ends Well                       215

    TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL                         223

    Notes to Twelfth Night; or, What You Will                311

    THE WINTER'S TALE                                        317

    Notes to The Winter's Tale                               429




PREFACE.


The four plays printed in this volume appeared for the first time in the
Folio of 1623, and in the same order in which they are here given.

Of _The Taming of the Shrew_ alone is there any Quarto edition. The
title-page of this, as it appears in Capell's copy, is as follows:

     A wittie | and pleasant | Comedie | Called | _The Taming of the
     Shrew_. | As it was acted by his Maiesties | _Seruants at the_
     Blacke Friers | _and the_ Globe. | Written by Will. Shakespeare. |
     LONDON, | Printed by W. S. for _John Smethwicke_, and are to be |
     sold at his Shop in Saint _Dunstones_ Church- | yard vnder the
     Diall: | 1631. |

From a minute comparison of this Quarto edition with the First Folio,
extending to points which are necessarily left unrecorded in our notes,
we have come to the conclusion that the Quarto was printed from the
Folio. It is necessary to mention this, because Mr Collier, in the
second edition of his Shakespeare, maintains that the Quarto was printed
long before 1623, perhaps as early as 1607 or 1609; that its publication
"had been in some way 'stayed' by the intervention of the author, on
behalf of himself and the company to which he belonged; and that, having
in consequence been laid aside for a number of years, some copies of it,
remaining in the hands of Smithwicke the stationer, were issued in 1631,
as if it had been then first published." Mr Collier also conjectures
that the title-page was 'struck off long subsequent to the printing of
the body of the comedy to which it is attached.' That this could not
have been the case appears from an examination of Capell's copy, the
only one known to us which has the title-page perfect. In this the title
forms part of the first quire, and has not been inserted. The paper on
which it is printed is the same as that used for the rest of the play,
the wire-marks corresponding throughout. The passages from the Quarto
and Folio which Mr Collier quotes in support of his theory seem to us to
make strongly against it.

We have not reprinted the old play called _The Taming of a Shrew_, on
which Shakespeare founded his comedy, because it is manifestly by
another hand. It is referred to in the notes as (Q).

The 'Long MS.,' to which we have referred, is a copy of the Second Folio
in the Library of Pembroke College, Cambridge, which was formerly in the
possession of Dr Roger Long, Master of the College from 1733 to 1770. It
contains marginal emendations, some from Theobald and Warburton, marked
'T.' and 'W.' respectively; some to which the initial 'L.' is affixed,
and some without any initial letter at all. Such of these as could not
be traced to any earlier source we have quoted as 'Long conj. MS.' or
'Long MS.' For permission to use this volume we are indebted to the
kindness of the Rev. C. H. Parez.

Mr Keightley has, with great liberality, sent for our use the MS. of his
forthcoming work 'The Shakespeare Expositor.' We beg to return him our
best thanks.

To the number of those whom we have to thank for kind assistance we add
with pleasure the names of the Rev. G. B. Bubier, the Rev. N. M.
Ferrers, and Dr Meredith of Quebec.

    W. G. C.
    W. A. W.




ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA.


_The Taming of the Shrew._

     II. 1. 108. _To_] _Unto_ S. Walker conj.

      IV. 1. 36, 37. _and ... thou wilt_] _is ... will thaw_ Badham
      conj. In note on line 37 dele _will thaw_ Anon. conj.

      IV. 5. 22. Add to note, _so it shall be, so_ Mitford conj.

      IV. 5. 77. _Have to_] _Have at_ Jervis conj.


_All's Well that Ends Well._

     I. 1. 97. In the note, for _Williams_ read _Badham_.

      II. 1. 170. _maiden's_] _maid's_ S. Walker conj.

      III. 2. 108. Add to note, _move the still-reeking_ Jervis conj.

      IV. 2. 38. Add to note, _make ropes ... snare or wake hopes ...
      scare_ Bubier conj.

      IV. 3. 94. Add to note, _he has_ Steevens.

      IV. 3. 96. For _he has_ read _has_, and in the note read _has_]
      _ha's_ Ff. _he has_ Steevens.


_The Winter's Tale._

     I. 2. 147, 148. Add to note, Her. _How my lord?_ Pol. _What ...
     brother?_

      II. 1. 40. Add to note, _drink deep_ Long MS. Mr Staunton's
      conjecture should be _drink deep o't_.




THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.




DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[1].


    A Lord.                                        }
    Christopher Sly, a tinker.                     } Persons in the
    Hostess, Page, Players, Huntsmen, and Servants.} Induction

    BAPTISTA, a rich gentleman of Padua.
    _Vincentio_, an old gentleman of Pisa.
    _Lucentio_, son to Vincentio, in love with Bianca.
    _Petruchio_[2], a gentleman of Verona, a suitor to Katharina.

    GREMIO,   }
    HORTENSIO,} suitors to Bianca.

    TRANIO,   }
    BIONDELLO,} servants to Lucentio.

    GRUMIO[3],}
    CURTIS[4],} servants to Petruchio.

    A Pedant.

    KATHARINA, the shrew,}
    BIANCA,              } daughters to Baptista.

    Widow.

Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio.

SCENE: _Padua_, _and Petruchio's country house_.


FOOTNOTES:

  [1] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] First given by Rowe.

  [2] PETRUCHIO] PETRUCIO Knight. PETRUCCIO Ritson conj.

  [3] GRUMIO] GRUNNIO S. Walker conj.

  [4] CURTIS] Capell.




THE TAMING OF THE SHREW.




INDUCTION.

SCENE I. _Before an alehouse on a heath_.


_Enter_ HOSTESS _and_ SLY.

    _Sly._ I'll pheeze you, in faith.

    _Host._ A pair of stocks, you rogue!

    _Sly._ Y'are a baggage: the Slys are no rogues; look in
    the chronicles; we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore
    paucas pallabris; let the world slide: sessa!                      5

    _Host._ You will not pay for the glasses you have burst?

    _Sly._ No, not a denier. Go by, Jeronimy: go to thy
    cold bed, and warm thee.

    _Host._ I know my remedy; I must go fetch the thirdborough.
                                                [_Exit._              10


    _Sly._ Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, I'll answer him
    by law: I'll not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and
    kindly.                                     [_Falls asleep._

_Horns winded_. _Enter a_ Lord _from hunting_, _with his train_.

    _Lord._ Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds:
    Brach Merriman, the poor cur is emboss'd;                         15
    And couple Clowder with the deep-mouth'd brach.
    Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good
    At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault?
    I would not lose the dog for twenty pound.

    _First Hun._ Why, Belman is as good as he, my lord;               20
    He cried upon it at the merest loss
    And twice to-day pick'd out the dullest scent:
    Trust me, I take him for the better dog.

    _Lord._ Thou art a fool: if Echo were as fleet,
    I would esteem him worth a dozen such.                            25
    But sup them well and look unto them all:
    To-morrow I intend to hunt again.

    _First Hun._ I will, my lord.

    _Lord._ What's here? one dead, or drunk? See, doth he breathe?

    _Sec. Hun._ He breathes, my lord. Were he not warm'd with ale,    30
    This were a bed but cold to sleep so soundly.

    _Lord._ O monstrous beast! how like a swine he lies!
    Grim death, how foul and loathsome is thine image!
    Sirs, I will practise on this drunken man.
    What think you, if he were convey'd to bed,                       35
    Wrapp'd in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
    A most delicious banquet by his bed,
    And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
    Would not the beggar then forget himself?

    _First Hun._ Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.          40

    _Sec. Hun._ It would seem strange unto him when he waked.

    _Lord._ Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy.
    Then take him up and manage well the jest:
    Carry him gently to my fairest chamber
    And hang it round with all my wanton pictures:                    45
    Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters
    And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet:
    Procure me music ready when he wakes,
    To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound;
    And if he chance to speak, be ready straight                      50
    And with a low submissive reverence
    Say 'What is it your honour will command?'
    Let one attend him with a silver basin
    Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers;
    Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper,                        55
    And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?'
    Some one be ready with a costly suit
    And ask him what apparel he will wear;
    Another tell him of his hounds and horse,
    And that his lady mourns at his disease:                          60
    Persuade him that he hath been lunatic;
    And when he says he is, say that he dreams,
    For he is nothing but a mighty lord.
    This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs:
    It will be pastime passing excellent,                             65
    If it be husbanded with modesty.

    _First Hun._ My lord, I warrant you we will play our part,
    As he shall think by our true diligence
    He is no less than what we say he is.

    _Lord._ Take him up gently and to bed with him;                   70
    And each one to his office when he wakes.
                         [_Some bear out Sly. A trumpet sounds._

    Sirrah, go see what trumpet 'tis that sounds:
                                             [_Exit Servingman._

    Belike, some noble gentleman that means,
    Travelling some journey, to repose him here.

_Re-enter_ Servingman.

    How now! who is it?

    _Serv._           An't please your honour, players                75
    That offer service to your lordship.

    _Lord._ Bid them come near.

_Enter_ Players.

                                Now, fellows, you are welcome.

    _Players._ We thank your honour.

    _Lord._ Do you intend to stay with me to-night?

    _A Player._ So please your lordship to accept our duty.           80

    _Lord._ With all my heart. This fellow I remember,
    Since once he play'd a farmer's eldest son:
    'Twas where you woo'd the gentlewoman so well:
    I have forgot your name; but, sure, that part
    Was aptly fitted and naturally perform'd.                         85

    _A Player._ I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

    _Lord._ Tis very true: thou didst it excellent.
    Well, you are come to me in happy time;
    The rather for I have some sport in hand
    Wherein your cunning can assist me much.                          90
    There is a lord will hear you play to-night:
    But I am doubtful of your modesties;
    Lest over-eyeing of his odd behaviour,--
    For yet his honour never heard a play,--
    You break into some merry passion                                 95
    And so offend him; for I tell you, sirs,
    If you should smile he grows impatient.

    _A Player._ Fear not, my lord: we can contain ourselves,
    Were he the veriest antic in the world.

    _Lord._ Go, sirrah, take them to the buttery,                    100
    And give them friendly welcome every one:
    Let them want nothing that my house affords.
                                  [_Exit one with the Players._

    Sirrah, go you to Barthol'mew my page,
    And see him dress'd in all suits like a lady:
    That done, conduct him to the drunkard's chamber;                105
    And call him 'madam,' do him obeisance.
    Tell him from me, as he will win my love,
    He bear himself with honourable action,
    Such as he hath observed in noble ladies
    Unto their lords, by them accomplished:                          110
    Such duty to the drunkard let him do
    With soft low tongue and lowly courtesy,
    And say, 'What is't your honour will command,
    Wherein your lady and your humble wife
    May show her duty and make known her love?'                      115
    And then with kind embracements, tempting kisses,
    And with declining head into his bosom,
    Bid him shed tears, as being overjoy'd
    To see her noble lord restored to health,
    Who for this seven years hath esteemed him                       120
    No better than a poor and loathsome beggar:
    And if the boy have not a woman's gift
    To rain a shower of commanded tears,
    An onion will do well for such a shift,
    Which in a napkin being close convey'd                           125
    Shall in despite enforce a watery eye.
    See this dispatch'd with all the haste thou canst:
    Anon I'll give thee more instructions.   [_Exit a Servingman._
    I know the boy will well usurp the grace,
    Voice, gait and action of a gentlewoman:                         130
    I long to hear him call the drunkard husband,
    And how my men will stay themselves from laughter
    When they do homage to this simple peasant.
    I'll in to counsel them; haply my presence
    May well abate the over-merry spleen                             135
    Which otherwise would grow into extremes.         [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  [INDUCTION.] Pope. om. Ff Q. See note (I).

  [SCENE I. Before ...] Theobald. A Hedge Ale-house. Capell.

  [Enter ...] Enter Begger and Hostes, Christophero Sly. Ff Q.

  [1] _pheeze_] _fese_ (Q).

  [2] _stocks_] F3 F4. _stockes_ F1 Q.] _stokes_ F2.

  [4] _came in_] _came_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [5] _paucas_] _paucus_ F4.

  [7] _Go by, Jeronimy_] _goe by Ieronimie_ Q. _go by S. Ieronimie_ Ff
  (_Ieronimy_ F2. _Jeronimy_ F3 F4). _go by, Jeronimo_ Theobald. '_go
  by_,' _says Jeronimy_ Steevens (Capell conj.). _go--by S. Jeronimy_
  Knight. See note (II).

  [9] _thirdborough_] Theobald. _head-borough_ Ff Q.

  [10] [Exit.] Rowe. om. Ff Q.

  [13] [Falls asleep.] Ff Q. Falls from off his bench, and sleeps.
  Capell. Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep. Malone.

  [14] SCENE II. Pope.

  Horns winded.] Winde hornes. Ff Q.

  [15] _Brach_] _Leech_ Hanmer. _Bathe_ Johnson conj. _Breathe_ Mitford
  conj. _Brace_ Becket conj. _Trash_ Singer.

  _Brach ... emboss'd_;] (_Brach_ _Merriman_, _the poor cur, is
  emboss'd_,) Grant White. _Brach_, _Merriman_, _the ... emboss'd_
  Johnson. (_Back_ _Merriman_!--_the ... emboss'd_) Anon. conj.

  [23] _better_] om. Q.

  [30, 31] Printed as prose in Ff Q, as verse first by Rowe (ed. 2).

  [37] _bed_] _side_ Anon. conj.

  [41, 42] _waked_. Lord. _Even_ ... _fancy_. _Then_] _waked_, _Even_
  ... _fancy_. Lord. _Then_ Anon. conj.

  [46] _Balm_ ... _head_] _Bath_ ... _hide_ Capell conj.

  _in_] _with_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [55] _the third_] _a third_ Rowe.

  [62] _And_ ... _he is_,] Ff Q. _And when_ _he says he is poor_, Rowe
  (ed. 1). _And_ ... _he's poor_, Rowe (ed. 2). _And_ ... _he
  is_,--Theobald. _And_ ... _he's Sly_, Johnson conj. _And when he says
  what he is_, Long conj. MS. _When he says what_ _he is_, Collier MS.
  _And what he says_ _he is_, Jackson conj. _And when he_ _says who he
  is_, Anon. ap. Halliwell conj. See note (III).

  [67] _we will_] _we'll_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [71] [Some bear out Sly.] Theobald. om. Ff Q.

  A trumpet sounds.] Sound trumpets. Ff Q.

  [72] [Exit S.] Ex. Servant. Theobald. om. Ff Q.

  [75] SCENE III. Pope.

  Re-enter ...] Enter ... Ff Q.

  [75, 76] _An't ... players That_] Ff Q.

  _Please your honour, players That_ Pope.

  _An it ... Players that_ Malone.

  [76] _That offer_] _That come to offer_ Capell. _That offer humble_
  Collier MS.

  [77] Enter P.] Ff Q, after line 76.

  [80] A Player.] Edd. 2. Player. Ff Q.

  [85] _fitted_] _fit_ S. Walker conj.

  [86] A Player.] Sincklo. F1 Q. Sin. F2. Sim. F3 F4. 1. P. Capell. See
  note (IV).

  [98] A Player.] Plai. F1 F2. Play. Q. Pla. F3 F4. 1. P. Capell.

  [99] See note (v).

  [101] _And ... one_] omitted by Rowe.

  [103] _Barthol'mew_] _Bartholmew_ Ff Q. _Bartholomew_ Rowe.

  [108] _bear_] F3 F4. _beare_ F1 F2. _bare_ Q.

  [ Linenote 112] _soft low_] _soft slow_ Malone conj.

  [113] _will_] _doth_ Q.

  [120] _this seven_] _these seven_ Rowe (ed. 2). _twice seven_
  Theobald.

  _him_] _himself_ Rowe.

  [125] _being ... convey'd_] (_being ... convei'd_) Ff Q.

  [133] _peasant._] Johnson. _peasant_, Ff Q. _peasant_; Rowe.

  [135] _the_] _their_ Collier (Collier MS.).


Scene II. _A bedchamber in the_ Lord's _house._

_Enter aloft_ SLY, _with_ Attendants; _some with apparel_, _others with_
_basin and ewer and other appurtenances_, _and_ Lord.

    _Sly_. For God's sake, a pot of small ale.

    _First Serv_. Will't please your lordship drink a cup of
    sack?

    _Sec. Serv_. Will't please your honour taste of these
    conserves?

    _Third Serv._ What raiment will your honour wear to-day?

    _Sly._ I am Christophero Sly; call not me 'honour' nor             5
    'lordship:' I ne'er drank sack in my life; and if you give me
    any conserves, give me conserves of beef: ne'er ask me
    what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets than
    backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than
    feet; nay, sometime more feet than shoes, or such shoes as        10
    my toes look through the overleather.

    _Lord._ Heaven cease this idle humour in your honour!
    O, that a mighty man of such descent,
    Of such possessions and so high esteem,
    Should be infused with so foul a spirit!                          15

    _Sly._ What, would you make me mad? Am not I
    Christopher Sly, old Sly's son of Burton-heath, by birth a
    pedlar, by education a card-maker, by transmutation a
    bear-herd, and now by present profession a tinker? Ask
    Marian Hacket, the fat ale-wife of Wincot, if she know me         20
    not: if she say I am not fourteen pence on the score for
    sheer ale, score me up for the lyingest knave in Christendom.
    What! I am not bestraught: here's--

    _Third Serv._ O, this it is that makes your lady mourn!

    _Sec. Serv._ O, this is it that makes your servants droop!        25

    _Lord._ Hence comes it that your kindred shuns your house,
    As beaten hence by your strange lunacy.
    O noble lord, bethink thee of thy birth,
    Call home thy ancient thoughts from banishment
    And banish hence these abject lowly dreams.                       30
    Look how thy servants do attend on thee,
    Each in his office ready at thy beck.
    Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,          [_Music._
    And twenty caged nightingales do sing:
    Or wilt thou sleep? we'll have thee to a couch                    35
    Softer and sweeter than the lustful bed
    On purpose trimm'd up for Semiramis.
    Say thou wilt walk; we will bestrew the ground:
    Or wilt thou ride? thy horses shall be trapp'd,
    Their harness studded all with gold and pearl.                    40
    Dost thou love hawking? thou hast hawks will soar
    Above the morning lark: or wilt thou hunt?
    Thy hounds shall make the welkin answer them,
    And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth.

    _First Serv._ Say thou wilt course; thy greyhounds are as swift   45
    As breathed stags, ay, fleeter than the roe.

    _Sec. Serv._ Dost thou love pictures? we will fetch thee straight
    Adonis painted by a running brook
    And Cytherea all in sedges hid
    Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,                    50
    Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

    _Lord._ We'll show thee Io as she was a maid
    And how she was beguiled and surprised,
    As lively painted as the deed was done.

    _Third Serv._ Or Daphne roaming through a thorny wood,            55
    Scratching her legs that one shall swear she bleeds,
    And at that sight shall sad Apollo weep,
    So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

    _Lord._ Thou art a lord and nothing but a lord:
    Thou hast a lady far more beautiful                               60
    Than any woman in this waning age.

    _First Serv._ And till the tears that she hath shed for thee
    Like envious floods o'er-run her lovely face,
    She was the fairest creature in the world;
    And yet she is inferior to none.                                  65

    _Sly._ Am I a lord? and have I such a lady?
    Or do I dream? or have I dream'd till now?
    I do not sleep: I see, I hear, I speak;
    I smell sweet savours and I feel soft things:
    Upon my life, I am a lord indeed                                  70
    And not a tinker nor Christophero Sly.
    Well, bring our lady hither to our sight;
    And once again, a pot o' the smallest ale.

    _Sec. Serv._ Will't please your mightiness to wash your hands?
    O, how we joy to see your wit restored!                           75
    O, that once more you knew but what you are!
    These fifteen years you have been in a dream;
    Or when you waked, so waked as if you slept.

    _Sly._ These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap.
    But did I never speak of all that time?                           80

    _First Serv._ O, yes, my lord, but very idle words:
    For though you lay here in this goodly chamber,
    Yet would you say ye were beaten out of door;
    And rail upon the hostess of the house;
    And say you would present her at the leet,                        85
    Because she brought stone jugs and no seal'd quarts:
    Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

    _Sly._ Ay, the woman's maid of the house.

    _Third Serv._ Why, sir, you know no house nor no such maid,
    Nor no such men as you have reckon'd up,                          90
    As Stephen Sly and old John Naps of Greece
    And Peter Turph and Henry Pimpernell
    And twenty more such names and men as these
    Which never were nor no man ever saw.

    _Sly._ Now Lord be thanked for my good amends!                    95

    _All._ Amen.

    _Sly._ I thank thee: thou shalt not lose by it.

_Enter the_ Page _as a lady_, _attended_.

    _Page._ How fares my noble lord?

    _Sly._ Marry, I fare well; for here is cheer enough.
    Where is my wife?                                                100

    _Page._ Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?

    _Sly._ Are you my wife and will not call me husband?
    My men should call me 'lord:' I am your good-man.

    _Page._ My husband and my lord, my lord and husband;
    I am your wife in all obedience.                                 105

    _Sly._ I know it well. What must I call her?

    _Lord._ Madam.

    _Sly._ Al'ce madam, or Joan madam?

    _Lord._ 'Madam,' and nothing else: so lords call ladies.

    _Sly._ Madam wife, they say that I have dream'd                  110
    And slept above some fifteen year or more.

    _Page._ Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me,
    Being all this time abandon'd from your bed.

    _Sly._ 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone.
    Madam, undress you and come now to bed.                          115

    _Page._ Thrice-noble lord, let me entreat of you
    To pardon me yet for a night or two;
    Or, if not so, until the sun be set:
    For your physicians have expressly charged,
    In peril to incur your former malady,                            120
    That I should yet absent me from your bed:
    I hope this reason stands for my excuse.

    _Sly._ Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long.
    But I would be loath to fall into my dreams again: I will
    therefore tarry in despite of the flesh and the blood.           125

_Enter a_ Messenger.

    _Mess._ Your honour's players, hearing your amendment,
    Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
    For so your doctors hold it very meet,
    Seeing too much sadness hath congeal'd your blood,
    And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy:                           130
    Therefore they thought it good you hear a play
    And frame your mind to mirth and merriment.
    Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life.

    _Sly._ Marry, I will, let them play it. Is not a comonty
    a Christmas gambold or a tumbling-trick?                         135

    _Page._ No, my good lord; it is more pleasing stuff.

    _Sly._ What, household stuff?

    _Page._ It is a kind of history.

    _Sly._ Well, we'll see't. Come, madam wife, sit by my
    side and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger.          140

    _Flourish._

LINENOTES:

  [SCENE II.] Capell. SCENE IV. Pope. A ... house.] Theobald.

  Enter aloft SLY ...] Enter aloft the drunkard ... Ff Q. A stately Room
  in the Lord's House: In it a Stage and other Appurtenances, for the
  Play: and, in another Part, a Bed; SLY, in a rich Night-dress, sitting
  on it; surrounded by Servants, bearing Apparel, Bason, Ewer, &c. a
  Sideboard being by. Enter, at lower End, the Lord, himself habited
  like a Servant. Capell.

  [1] Sly.] Beg. Ff Q, and elsewhere in the scene.

  [5] _Christophero_] _Christopher_ Warburton.

  [10] _sometime_] _sometimes_ F3 F4.

  [12] _idle_] _evil_ Collier MS.

  [17] _Christopher_] F1 Q F2. _Christophero_ F3 F4.

  _Sly's_] _Sies_ F1.

  _Burton-heath_] _Barton-heath_ Steevens conj.

  [18] _card-maker_] _cart-maker_ or _cord-maker_ or _crate-maker_ or
  _cord-wainer_ Anon. conj.

  [21] _fourteen pence_] xiiii. d. F1 Q F2. xiv. d. F3 F4.

  _score_] _sorce_ F2.

  [22] _sheer_] F4. _sheere_ F1 Q F2 F3. _shear_ Jordan conj.
  _Warwickshire_ Collier MS.]

  [23] _What!_] _What_ Ff Q. _What?_--Hanmer.

  _bestraught_] _distraught_ Steevens conj. (withdrawn).

  _here's_--] Ff. _here's_ Q.

  [24] Third Serv.] 3. Man. F1 Q F2. 1. Man. F3 F4.

  [25] _is it_] _it is_ Rowe.

  [26] _shuns_] _shun_ Rowe.

  [43] _hounds_] _bounds_ Q.

  [47] Sec. Serv.] 2. M. Ff Q.

  [51] _with_] _with th'_ Anon. conj.

  [63] _o'er-run_] _o'er-ran_ Theobald.

  [71] _Christophero_] F2 F3 F4. _Christopher_ F1 Q.

  [74] [presenting the Ewer, &c. Capell.

  [75] _wit_] _wits_ F3 F4.

  [78] _so_] _you_ Rowe.

  [84] _rail_] _rail'd_ Rowe.

  [86] _no_] _not_ Collier MS.

  [91] _of Greece_] _o' th' Green_ Hanmer (L. II. apud Theobald conj.).
  _of_ _Greys_ or _of Greete_ Halliwell conj.

  [92] _Henry_] _Harry_ Capell conj.

  [96] See note (VI).

  [97] SCENE V. Pope.

  Enter ...] Capell. Enter Lady with Attendants. Ff Q (after line 96).

  [98-100] Capell prints as two lines _How_ ... _well_; _For_ ...
  _wife?_

  [99, 100] _Marry_ ... _wife?_] Printed as prose by Pope.

  [108] _Al'ce_] Capell. _Alce_ Ff.

  [110] See note (VII).

  _Madam_] _Humph madam_ Capell conj. _Madam_, _my_ S. Walker conj.

  [110, 111] _Madam_ ... _more_] As prose in Pope.

  [111] _above_] F1 Q F2. _about_ F3 F4.

  _year or_] _year and_ F4. _years_ _and_ Rowe.

  [114, 115] _'Tis much_ ... _bed_] As prose in Pope.

  [120] _In_] _On_ Capell. _your_] _you_ Q.

  [124] _dreams_] _dream_ Rowe.

  [126] SCENE VI. Pope.

  Enter ...] Ff. Enter another servant. Capell.

  [129] _too much_] _so much_ Rowe.

  [134] _Marry_ ... _Is not_] Capell (_play't_). _Marrie I will let them
  play, it is not_ F1 Q F2. _Marry I will, let them play,_ _it is not_
  F3. _Marry I will, let them_ _play, is it not_ F4.

  _comonty_] _commodity?_ Pope, from (Q).

  [134-140] _Marry_ ... _younger_] Capell prints as six lines of verse.

  [135] _gambold_] Ff Q. _gambol_ Pope.

  [140] _and_ ... _younger_] _We shall ne'er_ _be younger_, _and let the
  world slide_ Collier (Collier MS.), reading 139, 140 as rhyme.

  [Seating her for the Play. Capell. They sit down. Malone.

  Flourish.] Ff Q. om. Capell.




ACT I.

SCENE I. _Padua_. _A public place_.


_Enter_ LUCENTIO _and his man_ TRANIO.

    _Luc._ Tranio, since for the great desire I had
    To see fair Padua, nursery of arts,
    I am arrived for fruitful Lombardy,
    The pleasant garden of great Italy;
    And by my father's love and leave am arm'd                         5
    With his good will and thy good company,
    My trusty servant, well approved in all,
    Here let us breathe and haply institute
    A course of learning and ingenious studies.
    Pisa renowned for grave citizens                                  10
    Gave me my being and my father first,
    A merchant of great traffic through the world,
    Vincentio, come of the Bentivolii.
    Vincentio's son brought up in Florence
    It shall become to serve all hopes conceived,                     15
    To deck his fortune with his virtuous deeds:
    And therefore, Tranio, for the time I study,
    Virtue and that part of philosophy
    Will I apply that treats of happiness
    By virtue specially to be achieved.                               20
    Tell me thy mind; for I have Pisa left
    And am to Padua come, as he that leaves
    A shallow plash to plunge him in the deep
    And with satiety seeks to quench his thirst.

    _Tra._ _Mi perdonato_, gentle master mine,                        25
    I am in all affected as yourself;
    Glad that you thus continue your resolve
    To suck the sweets of sweet philosophy.
    Only, good master, while we do admire
    This virtue and this moral discipline,                            30
    Let's be no stoics nor no stocks, I pray;
    Or so devote to Aristotle's checks
    As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured:
    Balk logic with acquaintance that you have
    And practise rhetoric in your common talk;                        35
    Music and poesy use to quicken you;
    The mathematics and the metaphysics,
    Fall to them as you find your stomach serves you;
    No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en:
    In brief, sir, study what you most affect.                        40

    _Luc._ Gramercies, Tranio, well dost thou advise.
    If, Biondello, thou wert come ashore,
    We could at once put us in readiness,
    And take a lodging fit to entertain
    Such friends as time in Padua shall beget.                        45
    But stay a while: what company is this?

    _Tra._ Master, some show to welcome us to town.

_Enter_ BAPTISTA, KATHARINA, BIANCA, GREMIO, _and_ HORTENSIO.
LUCENTIO _and_ TRANIO _stand by_.

    _Bap._ Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
    For how I firmly am resolved you know;
    That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter                       50
    Before I have a husband for the elder:
    If either of you both love Katharina,
    Because I know you well and love you well,
    Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

    _Gre._ [_Aside_] To cart her rather: she's too rough for me.      55
    There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife?

    _Kath._ I pray you, sir, is it your will
    To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

    _Hor._ Mates, maid! how mean you that? no mates for you,
    Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.                         60

    _Kath._ I'faith, sir, you shall never need to fear:
    I wis it is not half way to her heart;
    But if it were, doubt not her care should be
    To comb your noddle with a three-legg'd stool
    And paint your face and use you like a fool.                      65

    _Hor._ From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!

    _Gre._ And me too, good Lord!

    _Tra._ Husht, master! here's some good pastime toward:
    That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward.

    _Luc._ But in the other's silence do I see                        70
    Maid's mild behaviour and sobriety.
    Peace, Tranio!

    _Tra._ Well said, master; mum! and gaze your fill.

    _Bap._ Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
    What I have said, Bianca, get you in:                             75
    And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
    For I will love thee ne'er the less, my girl.

    _Kath._ A pretty peat! it is best
    Put finger in the eye, an she knew why.

    _Bian._ Sister, content you in my discontent.                     80
    Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe:
    My books and instruments shall be my company,
    On them to look and practise by myself.

    _Luc._ Hark, Tranio! thou may'st hear Minerva speak.

    _Hor._ Signior Baptista, will you be so strange?                  85
    Sorry am I that our good will effects
    Bianca's grief.

    _Gre._          Why will you mew her up,
    Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
    And make her bear the penance of her tongue?

    _Bap._ Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolved:                      90
    Go in, Bianca:                               [_Exit Bianca._

    And for I know she taketh most delight
    In music, instruments and poetry,
    Schoolmasters will I keep within my house,
    Fit to instruct her youth. If you, Hortensio,                     95
    Or Signior Gremio, you, know any such,
    Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
    I will be very kind, and liberal
    To mine own children in good bringing-up:
    And so farewell. Katharina, you may stay;                        100
    For I have more to commune with Bianca.             [_Exit._

    _Kath._ Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not?
    What, shall I be appointed hours; as though, belike,
    I knew not what to take, and what to leave, ha?     [_Exit._

    _Gre._ You may go to the devil's dam: your gifts are so          105
    good, here's none will hold you. Their love is not so great,
    Hortensio, but we may blow our nails together, and fast it
    fairly out: our cake's dough on both sides. Farewell:
    yet, for the love I bear my sweet Bianca, if I can by any
    means light on a fit man to teach her that wherein she           110
    delights, I will wish him to her father.

    _Hor._ So will I, Signior Gremio: but a word, I pray.
    Though the nature of our quarrel yet never brooked parle,
    know now, upon advice, it toucheth us both, that we may
    yet again have access to our fair mistress, and be happy rivals  115
    in Bianca's love, to labour and effect one thing specially.

    _Gre._ What's that, I pray?

    _Hor._ Marry, sir, to get a husband for her sister.

    _Gre._ A husband! a devil.

    _Hor._ I say, a husband.                                         120

    _Gre._ I say, a devil. Thinkest thou, Hortensio, though
    her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be
    married to hell?

    _Hor._ Tush, Gremio, though it pass your patience and
    mine to endure her loud alarums, why, man, there be good         125
    fellows in the world, an a man could light on them, would
    take her with all faults, and money enough.

    _Gre._ I cannot tell; but I had as lief take her dowry with
    this condition, to be whipped at the high-cross every morning.

    _Hor._ Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten         130
    apples. But come; since this bar in law makes us friends,
    it shall be so far forth friendly maintained till by helping
    Baptista's eldest daughter to a husband we set his youngest
    free for a husband, and then have to't afresh. Sweet Bianca!
    Happy man be his dole! He that runs fastest gets                 135
    the ring. How say you, Signior Gremio?

    _Gre._ I am agreed; and would I had given him the best
    horse in Padua to begin his wooing that would thoroughly
    woo her, wed her and bed her and rid the house of her!
    Come on.                     [_Exeunt Gremio and Hortensio._     140

    _Tra._ I pray, sir, tell me, is it possible
    That love should of a sudden take such hold?

    _Luc._ O Tranio, till I found it to be true,
    I never thought it possible or likely;
    But see, while idly I stood looking on,                          145
    I found the effect of love in idleness:
    And now in plainness do confess to thee,
    That art to me as secret and as dear
    As Anna to the Queen of Carthage was,
    Tranio, I burn, I pine, I perish, Tranio,                        150
    If I achieve not this young modest girl.
    Counsel me, Tranio, for I know thou canst;
    Assist me, Tranio, for I know thou wilt.

    _Tra._ Master, it is no time to chide you now;
    Affection is not rated from the heart:                           155
    If love have touch'd you, nought remains but so,
    'Redime te captum quam queas minimo.'

    _Luc._ Gramercies, lad, go forward; this contents:
    The rest will comfort, for thy counsel's sound.

    _Tra._ Master, you look'd so longly on the maid,                 160
    Perhaps you mark'd not what's the pith of all.

    _Luc._ O yes, I saw sweet beauty in her face,
    Such as the daughter of Agenor had,
    That made great Jove to humble him to her hand,
    When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strond.                 165

    _Tra._ Saw you no more? mark'd you not how her sister
    Began to scold and raise up such a storm
    That mortal ears might hardly endure the din?

    _Luc._ Tranio, I saw her coral lips to move
    And with her breath she did perfume the air:                     170
    Sacred and sweet was all I saw in her.

    _Tra._ Nay, then, 'tis time to stir him from his trance.
    I pray, awake, sir: if you love the maid,
    Bend thoughts and wits to achieve her. Thus it stands:
    Her eldest sister is so curst and shrewd                         175
    That till the father rid his hands of her,
    Master, your love must live a maid at home;
    And therefore has he closely mew'd her up,
    Because she will not be annoy'd with suitors.

    _Luc._ Ah, Tranio, what a cruel father's he!                     180
    But art thou not advised, he took some care
    To get her cunning schoolmasters to instruct her?

    _Tra._ Ay, marry, am I, sir; and now 'tis plotted.

    _Luc._ I have it, Tranio.

    _Tra._                    Master, for my hand,
    Both our inventions meet and jump in one.                        185

    _Luc._ Tell me thine first.

    _Tra._                      You will be schoolmaster
    And undertake the teaching of the maid:
    That's your device.

    _Luc._              It is: may it be done?

    _Tra._ Not possible; for who shall bear your part,
    And be in Padua here Vincentio's son;                            190
    Keep house and ply his book, welcome his friends,
    Visit his countrymen and banquet them?

    _Luc._ Basta; content thee, for I have it full.
    We have not yet been seen in any house,
    Nor can we be distinguish'd by our faces                         195
    For man or master; then it follows thus;
    Thou shalt be master, Tranio, in my stead,
    Keep house and port and servants, as I should:
    I will some other be; some Florentine,
    Some Neapolitan, or meaner man of Pisa.                          200
    'Tis hatch'd and shall be so: Tranio, at once
    Uncase thee; take my colour'd hat and cloak:
    When Biondello comes, he waits on thee;
    But I will charm him first to keep his tongue.

    _Tra._ So had you need.                                          205
    In brief, sir, sith it your pleasure is,
    And I am tied to be obedient;
    For so your father charged me at our parting,
    'Be serviceable to my son,' quoth he,
    Although I think 'twas in another sense;                         210
    I am content to be Lucentio,
    Because so well I love Lucentio.

    _Luc._ Tranio, be so, because Lucentio loves:
    And let me be a slave, to achieve that maid
    Whose sudden sight hath thrall'd my wounded eye.                 215
    Here comes the rogue.

_Enter_ BIONDELLO.

                          Sirrah, where have you been?

    _Bion._ Where have I been! Nay, how now! where are
    you? Master, has my fellow Tranio stolen your clothes?
    Or you stolen his? or both? pray, what's the news?

    _Luc._ Sirrah, come hither: 'tis no time to jest,                220
    And therefore frame your manners to the time.
    Your fellow Tranio here, to save my life,
    Puts my apparel and my countenance on,
    And I for my escape have put on his;
    For in a quarrel since I came ashore                             225
    I kill'd a man and fear I was descried:
    Wait you on him, I charge you, as becomes,
    While I make way from hence to save my life:
    You understand me?

    _Bion._            I, sir! ne'er a whit.

    _Luc._ And not a jot of Tranio in your mouth:                    230
    Tranio is changed into Lucentio.

    _Bion._ The better for him: would I were so too!

    _Tra._ So could I, faith, boy, to have the next wish after,
    That Lucentio indeed had Baptista's youngest daughter.
    But, sirrah, not for my sake, but your master's, I advise        235
    You use your manners discreetly in all kind of companies:
    When I am alone, why, then I am Tranio;
    But in all places else your master Lucentio.

    _Luc._ Tranio, let's go: one thing more rests, that thyself
    execute, to make one among these wooers: if thou ask             240
    me why, sufficeth, my reasons are both good and weighty.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

                    _The presenters above speak._

    _First Serv._ My lord, you nod; you do not mind the play.

    _Sly._ Yes, by Saint Anne, do I. A good matter, surely:
    comes there any more of it?

    _Page._ My lord, 'tis but begun.                                 245

    _Sly._ 'Tis a very excellent piece of work, madam lady:
    would 'twere done!                     [_They sit and mark._

LINENOTES:

  [ACT I. SC. I.] Pope. See note (1). Padua] Pope.

  A public place.] Capell. A street in Padua. Theobald.

  ... Tranio.] Triano. F1 Q F2.

  [3] _for_] _from_ Theobald. _in_ Capell (Heath conj.).

  [8] _haply_] F1 Q. _happly_ F2 F3 F4. _happily_ Pope. _happ'ly_
  Capell.

  [9] _ingenious_] _ingenuous_ Johnson conj.

  [13] _Vincentio, come_] Hanmer. _Vincentio's_ _come_ Ff Q.
  _Vincentio's son_ _come_ Malone conj. _Vincentio comes_ Collier MS.

  [14] _Vincentio's_] Ff Q. _Vincentio_ _his_ Pope. _Lucentio his_
  Hanmer.

  _brought_] _brough_ F1.

  [18] _Virtue_] _To virtue_ Hanmer.

  [25] _Mi perdonato_] _Me pardonato_ Ff. _Me pardinato_ Q. _Mi
  perdonate_ Capell (Heath conj.).

  [28] _sweet_] _fair_ Anon. conj.

  [32] _checks_] Ff Q. _ethicks_ Rann (Blackstone conj.). See note
  (VIII).

  [33] _Ovid_] F3 F4. _Ovid_; F1 Q F2.

  [34] _Balk_] _Talk_ Rowe. _Chop_ Capell conj. _Hack_ Anon. conj.

  _with_] _with'_ Hunter conj.

  [38] _you find_] om. F4.

  _serves you_] _serves_ Anon. conj.

  [41] _Gramercies_] _Gramercy_ Hanmer.

  [42] _thou wert_] _now were_ Dyce (Collier MS.). _then were_ Delius
  conj.

  [47] ... Gremio ...] ... Gremio a Pantelowne ... F1.

  ... Hortensio ...] ... Hortentio sister to Bianca ... F1 Q.... H. a
  shuiter to B.... F2.... H. a suitor to B ... F3 F4.

  [48] _Gentlemen_] _Gentlemen both_ Theobald.

  _no_] _not_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [57] _will_] _will and pleasure_ Hanmer. _gracious will_ Collier
  (Collier MS.). See note (IX).

  [58] _these_] F1 Q F2. _those_ F3 F4.

  [59] As two lines in Ff Q, ending _that?_ ... _you_.

  [60] _mould_] _mood_ Collier MS.

  [62] _I wis_] F4. _I wis_ F1 Q F2 F3.

  [63] _should_] F1 Q F2. _shall_ F3 F4.

  [66] _us_] _me_ Hanmer.

  [67] _good_] _O good_ Hanmer.

  [68] _Husht_] F1 Q F2. _Hush'd_ F3 F4. _Hush_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _here's_] F4. _heres_ F1 Q F2 F3. _here is_ Hanmer.

  [72] _Peace, Tranio!_] _Peace!_ Anon. conj.

  [73] _Well_] _Why_, _well_ Hanmer.

  [74] _Gentlemen_] _Come_, _gentlemen_ Hanmer. _Well_, _gentlemen_
  Capell.

  [78, 79] _A pretty_..._why_] Printed as prose in Ff Q.

  [86] _our_] _your_ Hanmer (ed. 2), a misprint.

  [90] _Gentlemen, content ye_] _Content ye_, _gentlemen_ Hanmer.

  [91] Exit Bianca.] Theobald om. Ff Q.

  [98] _liberal_] _liberal_, Ff Q.

  [102-104] Printed in Ff Q as four lines, ending _not?_ ... _though_
  ... _take_, ... _Ha_; as prose by Pope; by Capell as three lines,
  ending _not?_ ... _belike_, ... _ha!_

  [102] _and_] om. Rowe.

  [106] _here's_] _here is_ F4.

  _Their_] F1 F2. _There_ Q. _Our_ F3 F4. _Your_ Malone conj. _There_;
  Collier. _This_ Collier MS. _Her_ Bubier conj.

  [113] _yet never_] _never yet_ Pope.

  _parle_] F1 Q F2. _parlee_ F3 F4. _parly_ Capell.

  [122] _any_] _any a_ F2.

  [125] _loud_] _lowd_ F1 Q. _lewd_ F2 F3 F4.

  _alarums_] _alarms_ Rowe.

  [127] _all_] _all her_ F4.

  [130] _small_] _a small_ Theobald.

  [131] _But come_] F1 Q. _come_ F2 F3 F4.

  [138] _his wooing_] _the wooing_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _thoroughly_] F1 Q. _throughly_ F2 F3 F4.

  [140] Exeunt...] Exeunt ambo. Manet Tranio and Lucentio. Ff Q.

  [142] _of_] F1 Q F2. _on_ F3 F4.

  [156] _have_] F1 Q. om. F2 F3 F4. _has_ Rowe (ed. 1). _hath_ Rowe (ed.
  2).

  _touch'd_] _toyl'd_ Warburton.

  _nought_] F2 F3 F4. _naught_ F1 Q.

  [157] _captum_] F2 F3 F4. _captam_ F1 Q.

  [158] _Gramercies_] _Gramercy_ Rowe.

  [159] _counsel's_] F2 F3 F4. _counsels_ F1 Q.

  [163] _Agenor had_] _Agenor's race_ Collier MS.

  [165] _strond_] F1 Q F2 F3. _strand_ F4.

  [168] _hardly_] _scarce_ Collier MS.

  _endure_] _dure_ S. Walker conj.

  [173] _pray_] _pray you_ Q.

  [Shaking him. Capell.

  [174] _wits_] _wit_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [175] _eldest_] _elder_ Q.

  [176] _rid_] _rids_ Rowe.

  [179] _she_] _he_ Singer conj.

  _will_] _shall_ Rowe.

  [182] _To get her_] _Together_ F2. _To gather_ Long conj. MS.

  _schoolmasters_] _masters_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [189] _part_] _port_ Anon. conj.

  [200] _meaner_] _mean_ Capell.

  [201] _'Tis_] _It is_ Hanmer, ending lines 200-205 at _man ... so ...
  take ... comes ... first ... need_.

  [202] _take_] _and here take_ Hanmer. _colour'd_] F3 F4. _Conlord_ F1
  Q. _Coulord_ F2. om. Hanmer.

  [205] _So_] _And so, sir_ Hanmer.

  [They exchange habits. Theobald.

  [206] _In brief_, _sir_] _In brief_, _good_ _sir_ Pope; omitted by
  Capell. _In brief_ _then_, _sir_ Malone. _Be brief then_, _sir_.
  Collier MS.

  _it your pleasure is_] _it is your pleasure thus_ Anon. conj.

  [214] _to_] _t'_ Ff Q.

  [215] _wounded_] _wond'ring_ Collier MS.

  [216] ...Biondello.] ...Binodello. F2.

  [218] _my fellow_] om. Hanmer, who reads 217-219 as three lines,
  ending _you? ... cloaths, ... news?_

  _has_] F4. _ha's_ F1 Q F2 F3.

  [225] _ashore_] _a shore_ F1.

  [226] _was_] _am_ F3 F4.

  [229] _I, sir! ne'er_] _Ay, sir, ne'er_ Rowe. _Ay, sir.--Ne'er_ Dyce
  conj.

  [233-238] Printed as prose in Ff Q, as verse first by Capell.

  [233] _could_] _would_ F3 F4.

  _faith_] _'faith_ Ff Q. _i' faith_ Johnson.

  [235, 236] _advise You use ... companies_] _advise you, Use ...
  company_ Capell.

  [238] _your_] _you_ F1 Q.

  [239-241] Printed as four lines in Ff, ending _go.... execute....
  why.... weighty_; first as prose by Pope.

  [240] _among_] _'mong_ F2.

  [241] The presenters above speak.] ... speakes. Ff Q.

  [242-247] Transferred by Pope to the end of the Act.

  [247] _'twere_] _it were_ Capell.

  [They ... mark.] Ff Q. om. Pope.


SCENE II. PADUA. _Before_ HORTENSIO'S _house_.

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO _and his man_ GRUMIO.

    _Pet._ Verona, for a while I take my leave,
    To see my friends in Padua, but of all
    My best beloved and approved friend,
    Hortensio; and I trow this is his house.
    Here, sirrah Grumio; knock, I say.                                 5

    _Gru._ Knock, sir! whom should I knock? is there any
    man has rebused your worship?

    _Pet._ Villain, I say, knock me here soundly.

    _Gru._ Knock you here, sir! why, sir, what am I, sir,
    that I should knock you here, sir?                                10

    _Pet._ Villain, I say, knock me at this gate
    And rap me well, or I'll knock your knave's pate.

    _Gru._ My master is grown quarrelsome. I should knock you first,
    And then I know after who comes by the worst.

    _Pet._ Will it not be?                                            15
    Faith, sirrah, an you'll not knock, I'll ring it;
    I'll try how you can _sol_, _fa_, and sing it.
                                   [_He wrings him by the ears._

    _Gru._ Help, masters, help! my master is mad.

    _Pet._ Now, knock when I bid you, sirrah villain!

_Enter_ HORTENSIO.

    _Hor._ How now! what's the matter? My old friend Grumio!          20
    and my good friend Petruchio! How do you all at
    Verona?

    _Pet._ Signior Hortensio, come you to part the fray?
    'Con tutto il core ben trovato,' may I say.

    _Hor._ 'Alla nostra casa ben venuto, molto honorato               25
    signor mio Petrucio.'
    Rise, Grumio, rise: we will compound this quarrel.

    _Gru._ Nay, 'tis no matter, sir, what he 'leges in Latin. If
    this be not a lawful cause for me to leave his service, look
    you, sir, he bid me knock him and rap him soundly, sir:           30
    well, was it fit for a servant to use his master so, being perhaps,
    for aught I see, two-and-thirty, a pip out?
    Whom would to God I had well knock'd at first,
    Then had not Grumio come by the worst.

    _Pet._ A senseless villain! Good Hortensio,                       35
    I bade the rascal knock upon your gate
    And could not get him for my heart to do it.

    _Gru._ Knock at the gate! O heavens! Spake you not
    these words plain, 'Sirrah, knock me here, rap me here,
    knock me well, and knock me soundly'? And come you                40
    now with, 'knocking at the gate'?

    _Pet._ Sirrah, be gone, or talk not, I advise you.

    _Hor._ Petruchio, patience; I am Grumio's pledge:
    Why, this's a heavy chance 'twixt him and you,
    Your ancient, trusty, pleasant servant Grumio.                    45
    And tell me now, sweet friend, what happy gale
    Blows you to Padua here from old Verona?

    _Pet._ Such wind as scatters young men through the world
    To seek their fortunes farther than at home
    Where small experience grows. But in a few,                       50
    Signior Hortensio, thus it stands with me:
    Antonio, my father, is deceased;
    And I have thrust myself into this maze,
    Haply to wive and thrive as best I may:
    Crowns in my purse I have and goods at home                       55
    And so am come abroad to see the world.

    _Hor._ Petruchio, shall I then come roundly to thee
    And wish thee to a shrewd ill-favour'd wife?
    Thou'ldst thank me but a little for my counsel:
    And yet I'll promise thee she shall be rich                       60
    And very rich: but thou'rt too much my friend,
    And I'll not wish thee to her.

    _Pet._ Signior Hortensio, 'twixt such friends as we
    Few words suffice; and therefore, if thou know
    One rich enough to be Petruchio's wife,                           65
    As wealth is burden of my wooing dance,
    Be she as foul as was Florentius' love,
    As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd
    As Socrates' Xanthippe, or a worse,
    She moves me not, or not removes, at least,                       70
    Affection's edge in me, were she as rough
    As are the swelling Adriatic seas:
    I come to wive it wealthily in Padua;
    If wealthily, then happily in Padua.

    _Gru._ Nay, look you, sir, he tells you flatly what his mind      75
    is: why, give him gold enough and marry him to a puppet
    or an aglet-baby; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her
    head, though she have as many diseases as two and fifty
    horses: why, nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal.

    _Hor._ Petruchio, since we are stepp'd thus far in,               80
    I will continue that I broach'd in jest.
    I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
    With wealth enough and young and beauteous,
    Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman:
    Her only fault, and that is faults enough,                        85
    Is that she is intolerable curst
    And shrewd and froward, so beyond all measure,
    That, were my state far worser than it is,
    I would not wed her for a mine of gold.

    _Pet._ Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect:          90
    Tell me her father's name and 'tis enough;
    For I will board her, though she chide as loud
    As thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.

    _Hor._ Her father is Baptista Minola,
    An affable and courteous gentleman:                               95
    Her name is Katharina Minola,
    Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.

    _Pet._ I know her father, though I know not her;
    And he knew my deceased father well.
    I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;                     100
    And therefore let me be thus bold with you
    To give you over at this first encounter,
    Unless you will accompany me thither.

    _Gru._ I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts.
    O' my word, an she knew him as well as I do, she would think     105
    scolding would do little good upon him: she may perhaps
    call him half a score knaves or so: why, that's nothing; an
    he begin once, he'll rail in his rope-tricks. I'll tell you what,
    sir, an she stand him but a little, he will throw a figure in
    her face and so disfigure her with it that she shall have no     110
    more eyes to see withal than a cat. You know him not, sir.

    _Hor._ Tarry, Petruchio, I must go with thee;
    For in Baptista's keep my treasure is:
    He hath the jewel of my life in hold,
    His youngest daughter, beautiful Bianca;                         115
    And her withholds from me and other more,
    Suitors to her and rivals in my love;
    Supposing it a thing impossible,
    For those defects I have before rehearsed,
    That ever Katharina will be woo'd;                               120
    Therefore this order hath Baptista ta'en,
    That none shall have access unto Bianca
    Till Katharine the curst have got a husband.

    _Gru._ Katharine the curst!
    A title for a maid of all titles the worst.                      125

    _Hor._ Now shall my friend Petruchio do me grace;
    And offer me disguised in sober robes
    To old Baptista as a schoolmaster
    Well seen in music, to instruct Bianca;
    That so I may, by this device, at least                          130
    Have leave and leisure to make love to her
    And unsuspected court her by herself.

    _Gru._ Here's no knavery! See, to beguile the old
    folks, how the young folks lay their heads together!

_Enter_ GREMIO, _and_ LUCENTIO _disguised_.

    Master, master, look about you: who goes there, ha?              135

    _Hor._ Peace, Grumio! it is the rival of my love.
    Petruchio, stand by a while.

    _Gru._ A proper stripling and an amorous!

    _Gre._ O, very well; I have perused the note.
    Hark you, sir; I'll have them very fairly bound:                 140
    All books of love, see that at any hand;
    And see you read no other lectures to her:
    You understand me: over and beside
    Signior Baptista's liberality,
    I'll mend it with a largess. Take your paper too,                145
    And let me have them very well perfumed:
    For she is sweeter than perfume itself
    To whom they go to. What will you read to her?

    _Luc._ Whate'er I read to her, I'll plead for you
    As for my patron, stand you so assured,                          150
    As firmly as yourself were still in place:
    Yea, and perhaps with more successful words
    Than you, unless you were a scholar, sir.

    _Gre._ O this learning, what a thing it is!

    _Gru._ O this woodcock, what an ass it is!                       155

    _Pet._ Peace, sirrah!

    _Hor._ Grumio, mum! God save you, Signior Gremio.

    _Gre._ And you are well met, Signior Hortensio.
    Trow you whither I am going? To Baptista Minola.
    I promised to inquire carefully                                  160
    About a schoolmaster for the fair Bianca:
    And by good fortune I have lighted well
    On this young man, for learning and behaviour
    Fit for her turn, well read in poetry
    And other books, good ones, I warrant ye.                        165

    _Hor._ 'Tis well; and I have met a gentleman
    Hath promised me to help me to another,
    A fine musician to instruct our mistress;
    So shall I no whit be behind in duty
    To fair Bianca, so beloved of me.                                170

    _Gre._ Beloved of me; and that my deeds shall prove.

    _Gru._ And that his bags shall prove.

    _Hor._ Gremio, 'tis now no time to vent our love:
    Listen to me, and if you speak me fair,
    I'll tell you news indifferent good for either.                  175
    Here is a gentleman whom by chance I met,
    Upon agreement from us to his liking,
    Will undertake to woo curst Katharine,
    Yea, and to marry her, if her dowry please.

    _Gre._ So said, so done, is well.                                180
    Hortensio, have you told him all her faults?

    _Pet._ I know she is an irksome brawling scold:
    If that be all, masters, I hear no harm.

    _Gre._ No, say'st me so, friend? What countryman?

    _Pet._ Born in Verona, old Antonio's son:                        185
    My father dead, my fortune lives for me;
    And I do hope good days and long to see.

    _Gre._ O sir, such a life, with such a wife, were strange!
    But if you have a stomach, to't i' God's name:
    You shall have me assisting you in all.                          190
    But will you woo this wild-cat?

    _Pet._                          Will I live?

    _Gru._ Will he woo her? ay, or I'll hang her.

    _Pet._ Why came I hither but to that intent?
    Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
    Have I not in my time heard lions roar?                          195
    Have I not heard the sea puff'd up with winds
    Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?
    Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
    And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
    Have I not in a pitched battle heard                             200
    Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang?
    And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
    That gives not half so great a blow to hear
    As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
    Tush, tush! fear boys with bugs.

    _Gru._                           For he fears none.              205

    _Gre._ Hortensio, hark:
    This gentleman is happily arrived,
    My mind presumes, for his own good and ours.

    _Hor._ I promised we would be contributors
    And bear his charge of wooing, whatsoe'er.                       210

    _Gre._ And so we will, provided that he win her.

    _Gru._ I would I were as sure of a good dinner.

_Enter_ TRANIO _brave_, _and_ BIONDELLO.

    _Tra._ Gentlemen, God save you. If I may be bold,
    Tell me, I beseech you, which is the readiest way
    To the house of Signior Baptista Minola?                         215

    _Bion._ He that has the two fair daughters: is't he you
    mean?

    _Tra._ Even he, Biondello.

    _Gre._ Hark you, sir; you mean not her to--

    _Tra._ Perhaps, him and her, sir: what have you to do?           220

    _Pet._ Not her that chides, sir, at any hand, I pray.

    _Tra._ I love no chiders, sir. Biondello, let's away.

    _Luc._ Well begun, Tranio.

    _Hor._ Sir, a word ere you go;
    Are you a suitor to the maid you talk of, yea or no?             225

    _Tra._ And if I be, sir, is it any offence?

    _Gre._ No; if without more words you will get you hence.

    _Tra._ Why, sir, I pray, are not the streets as free
    For me as for you?

    _Gre._             But so is not she.

    _Tra._ For what reason, I beseech you?                           230

    _Gre._ For this reason, if you'll know,
    That she's the choice love of Signior Gremio.

    _Hor._ That she's the chosen of Signior Hortensio.

    _Tra._ Softly, my masters! if you be gentlemen,
    Do me this right; hear me with patience.                         235
    Baptista is a noble gentleman,
    To whom my father is not all unknown;
    And were his daughter fairer than she is,
    She may more suitors have and me for one.
    Fair Leda's daughter had a thousand wooers;                      240
    Then well one more may fair Bianca have:
    And so she shall; Lucentio shall make one,
    Though Paris came in hope to speed alone.

    _Gre._ What, this gentleman will out-talk us all!

    _Luc._ Sir, give him head: I know he'll prove a jade.            245

    _Pet._ Hortensio, to what end are all these words?

    _Hor._ Sir, let me be so bold as ask you,
    Did you yet ever see Baptista's daughter?

    _Tra._ No, sir; but hear I do that he hath two,
    The one as famous for a scolding tongue                          250
    As is the other for beauteous modesty.

    _Pet._ Sir, sir, the first's for me; let her go by.

    _Gre._ Yea, leave that labour to great Hercules;
    And let it be more than Alcides' twelve.

    _Pet._ Sir, understand you this of me in sooth:                  255
    The youngest daughter whom you hearken for
    Her father keeps from all access of suitors;
    And will not promise her to any man
    Until the elder sister first be wed:
    The younger then is free and not before.                         260

    _Tra._ If it be so, sir, that you are the man
    Must stead us all and me amongst the rest;
    And if you break the ice and do this feat,
    Achieve the elder, set the younger free
    For our access, whose hap shall be to have her                   265
    Will not so graceless be to be ingrate.

    _Hor._ Sir, you say well and well you do conceive;
    And since you do profess to be a suitor,
    You must, as we do, gratify this gentleman,
    To whom we all rest generally beholding.                         270

    _Tra._ Sir, I shall not be slack: in sign whereof,
    Please ye we may contrive this afternoon,
    And quaff carouses to our mistress' health,
    And do as adversaries do in law,
    Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.                   275

    _Gru. Bion._ O excellent motion! Fellows, let's be gone.

    _Hor._ The motion's good indeed and be it so,
    Petruchio, I shall be your ben venuto.            [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  [SCENE II.] Capell. ACT II. SCENE

  [1] Rowe. SCENE V. Pope.

  Before ... house.] Pope.

  [2] _but of all_] _best of all_ Anon. conj.

  [4] _his_] _the_ F3 F4.

  [6-24] _Knock, sir!... may I say_] Placed in the margin as spurious by
  Pope.

  [6] _knock?_] _knock, sir?_ Capell.

  [7] _has_] F4. _ha's_ F1 Q F2 F3. _That has_ Capell.

  _rebused_] _rebsu'd_ Q. _abused_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [16] _ring_] _wring_ Malone.

  [17] ... wrings ...] ... rings ... Ff Q.

  [18] _masters_] Theobald. _mistris_ Ff Q.

  [19] _sirrah villain!_] _sirrah! villain!_ Theobald.

  [24] _Con tutto ... trovato_] Theobald. _Contutti le core bene
  trobatto_ Ff Q (_trovatto_ F2 F3 F4).

  [25] _ben_] F2 F3 F4. _bene_ F1 Q.

  _molto_] Theobald. _multo_ Ff Q.

  _honorato_] _honorata_ F1 Q.

  [26] _signor_] Theobald. _signior_ Ff Q.

  [27-45] _Rise, Grumio ... Grumio_] Put in the margin as spurious by
  Pope.

  [27] _Grumio, rise_] F1 Q F2. _Grumio_ F3 F4.

  [28] _sir_] om. Rowe.

  _he 'leges_] Capell. _he leges_ Ff Q. _be leges_ Rann (Tyrwhitt
  conj.). _he alledges_ Long conj. MS.

  [32] _pip_] Rowe (ed. 2). _peepe_ F1 Q F2. _peep_ F3 F4.

  _out_] _mo_ Collier MS.

  [33, 34] _Whom ... worst_] Printed as prose in Ff Q, as verse first by
  Rowe (ed. 2).

  [38-41] _Knock_ ... _gate?_] Capell prints as four lines, ending
  _heavens!_ ... _here_, ... _soundly?_ ... _gate?_

  [44] _this's_] _this_ Ff Q. _this is_ Rowe. _this so_ Mason conj.
  _this'_ Dyce (S. Walker conj.). _this?_ Collier.

  [48] _young men_] F3 F4. _yong men_ Q. _yongmen_ F1 F2.

  [50] _grows. But in a few_,] _grows;_ _but in a few_, Hanmer. _grows
  but in_ _a few_. Ff Q. _grows_, _but in a few_. Theobald. _grows but
  in a mew._ Warburton.

  [53] _have_] _must_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [54] _Haply_] Malone. _Happily_ Ff Q. _Happly_ Rowe (ed. 2). _Happ'ly_
  Hanmer.

  [59] _Thou'ldst_] _Thou'lt_ Hanmer.

  [61] _thou'rt_] Rowe. _th' art_ Ff Q.

  [63] _Signior_] om. Q.

  _we_] _us_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [64] _thou_] _you_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [66] _burden_] _guerdon_ Becket conj.

  _dance_] _song_ Johnson conj.

  [67] _Florentius'_] _Florentio's_ Hanmer conj.

  [68] _Sibyl_] _Sibell_ F1 Q F2 F3 _Sibel_ F4.

  [69] _Xanthippe_] _Zentippe_ F1 Q. _Zantippe_ F2 F3 F4. _Xantippe_
  Theobald.

  _a worse_] _even worse_ Collier MS.

  [71] _Affection's_ ... _me_] F1 Q. _Affection's_ _edge in time_ F2 F3
  F4. _Affection_ _sieg'd in coin_ Warburton.

  _as_] _is as_ F1.

  [78] _as two and fifty_] _too as fifty_ Rann.

  [79] _horses_] _houses_ Becket conj.

  [85] _and that_] _as that_ Capell.

  _faults_] F1 Q. _fault_ F2 F3 F4.

  [86] _intolerable_] _intolerably_ Hanmer.

  [87] _shrewd_] _shrow'd_ F1 Q. _shrew'd_ F2 F3 F4.

  _froward_] _forward_ Warburton.

  [94] _is_] om. Q.

  [105] _O'_] Rowe (ed. 2). _A_ Ff Q.

  [108] _begin_] _begins_ Q.

  _his_] _her_ Anon. conj.

  _rope-tricks_] _trope-tricks_ Theobald conj. _rhetorick_ Hanmer.
  _rhetoricks_ Capell. _roop tricks_ Anon conj.

  [113] _keep_] Ff Q. _house_ Rowe.

  [116] _And her_] _Her he_ Rann.

  _withholds from me and other_ _more_] Capell (Thirlby conj.).
  _withholds_ _from me_. _Other more_ F1 Q. _with-holds he from me_.
  _Other more_ F2 F3 F4 (_hee_ F2) _with-holds he from_ _me_, _and
  others more_ Theobald. _with-holds_ _he from me_, _and other more_
  Hanmer.

  [119] _For_] _From_ Hanmer.

  [132] _herself_] _myself_ Capell.

  [133] SCENE VI. Pope.

  Gru.] Gru. [aside.] Dyce.

  [134] _their heads_] _theirs head_ F2.

  ... disguised.] Ff Q (after line 131). ... disguised, with books under
  his arm. Capell.

  [135] _Master, master_] _Master_ Rowe.

  _ha?_] om. Q.

  [136] _it is_] _'tis_ Pope.

  [137] _Petruchio_, _stand_...] _Petruchio_, _stand we by a little
  while_ Capell. Petruchio. _Stand ..._ Edd. conj.

  _a while_] _a whilt_ F2.

  [140] _Hark you_] _Hark_ S. Walker conj.

  _very_] om. Anon. conj.

  [145] _Take your paper too,_] _Take_ _your papers too_ Pope. _Take
  your papers_ Hanmer. _Here_, _take your papers too_ Capell. See note
  (X).

  [148] _go to_] _go_ Rowe.

  [157] Hor. _Grumio_, _mum!_] Hor. _Grumio mum:_ F1 Q. Hor. _Gru_.
  _mum_: F2 F3 F4.

  [158-167] Printed as prose by Pope.

  [158] _And you are_] _And you're_ Steevens.

  [158, 159] _And you_.... _Trow you_ _whither_] _You_ ... _trow you
  Whither_ Capell.

  [158-161] Malone prints as five lines, ending _Hortensio_ ...
  _whither_ ... _Minola_ ... _about_ ... _Bianca_.

  [160] _promised_] _promis'd him_ Capell.

  [161] _schoolmaster_] _master_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  _the fair_] _fair_ Steevens.

  [165] _ye_] _you_ Steevens.

  [167] _help me_] Rowe. _help one_ Ff Q.

  [171] _deeds_] _deed_ Warburton.

  [184] _What_] _pray_, _what_ Hanmer.

  [185] _Antonio's_] Rowe. _Butonios_ F1 Q F2. _Butonio's_ F3 F4.

  [186] _father_] _father's_ Rowe.

  [188] _O sir, such_] _Oh_, _such_ Hanmer. _Sir_, _such_ Capell.

  [189] _stomach_, _to't_ ... _name_:] _stomach_ _to't_, ... _name_,
  Bubier conj.

  _a stomach_] _stomacke_ Q.

  _to't i'_] Edd. _too't a_ F1 Q F2 F3. _to't a_ F4. _to't o'_
  Theobald.

  [192] _er_] om. Rann.

  [194] _mine_] _my_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [197] _sweat_] _pursuit_ Theobald conj.

  [201] _trumpets' clang_] _trumpets_ _clangue_ Ff Q. _trumpets'
  clangue_ Capell.

  [203] _hear_] _th' ear_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [208] _ours_] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). _yours_ Ff Q.

  [213] SCENE VII. Pope.

  ... brave,] ... bravely apparelled, Pope.

  _you_. _If_ ... _bold_,] _you_, _if_ ... _bold_. Edd. conj.

  [213-215] Printed as prose by Pope.

  [216] Bion.] Gre. Capell (Tyrwhitt and Heath conj.).

  _is't he_] _is't_ [aside to Tranio] _he_ Malone.

  [218] _Even he, Biondello._] _Even he_ _Biondello_. Ff Q. _Even he_,
  _sir_. Capell. _Even he_. _Biondello!_ Steevens (Tyrwhitt and Heath
  conj). _Even he_. Rann.

  [219] _her to--_] Ff Q. _her too_. Tyrwhitt conj. _her to woo_.
  Halliwell (Malone conj.).

  [221] _Not_] _Nor_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [226] _And if_] Ff. _And_ Q. _An_ _if_ Hanmer.

  [228] _I pray_] Ff. _I pray you_ Q.

  [232] _That she's_] _She's_ Hanmer.

  [233] _That she's_] Ff. _That she is_ Q. _She is_ Hanmer.

  _Signior_] om. Hanmer.

  [235] _with patience_] Ff. _patience_ Q.

  [239] _suitors_] _sutore_ F2.

  [244] _What,_] _What_, _what_, Capell.

  [245] _Sir, give_] Ff. _Give_ Q.

  [247] _as ask you_] F1 Q. _as to ask_ _you_ F2 F3 F4. _as ask you
  this_ Capell.

  [251] _As is the other_] _As the other_ _is_ Pope.

  [259] _the elder_] _the eldest_ Rowe (ed. 2). _her elder_ Capell. See
  note (XI).

  [262] _stead_] Capell. _steed_ Ff Q.

  [263] _And if_] _An if_ Capell.

  _feat_] Rowe. _seeke_ F1 Q F2. _seek_ F3 F4.

  [270] _beholding_] _beholden_ Rowe.

  [272] _contrive_] _convive_ Theobald.

  [273] _mistress'_] _mistress'_ (for _mistresses'_) S. Walker conj.

  [276] Gru.] Gre. Ritson conj.

  Bion.] om. Capell.

  [278] _I shall_] _I'll_ Capell.

  _ben venuto_] F2 F3 F4. _been_ _venuto_ F1 Q. See note (XII).




ACT II.

SCENE I. _Padua_. _A room in_ BAPTISTA'S _house_.


_Enter_ KATHARINA _and_ BIANCA.

    _Bian._ Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself,
    To make a bondmaid and a slave of me;
    That I disdain: but for these other gawds,
    Unbind my hands, I 'll pull them off myself,
    Yea, all my raiment, to my petticoat;                              5
    Or what you will command me will I do,
    So well I know my duty to my elders.

    _Kath._ Of all thy suitors, here I charge thee, tell
    Whom thou lovest best: see thou dissemble not.

    _Bian._ Believe me, sister, of all the men alive                  10
    I never yet beheld that special face
    Which I could fancy more than any other.

    _Kath._ Minion, thou liest. Is't not Hortensio?

    _Bian._ If you affect him, sister, here I swear
    I'll plead for you myself, but you shall have him.                15

    _Kath._ O then, belike, you fancy riches more:
    You will have Gremio to keep you fair.

    _Bian._ Is it for him you do envy me so?
    Nay then you jest, and now I well perceive
    You have but jested with me all this while:                       20
    I prithee, sister Kate, untie my hands.

    _Kath._ If that be jest, then all the rest was so.
                                                 [_Strikes her._

_Enter_ BAPTISTA.

    _Bap._ Why, how now, dame! whence grows this insolence?
    Bianca, stand aside. Poor girl! she weeps.
    Go ply thy needle; meddle not with her.                           25
    For shame, thou hilding of a devilish spirit,
    Why dost thou wrong her that did ne'er wrong thee?
    When did she cross thee with a bitter word?

    _Kath._ Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged.
                                          [_Flies after Bianca._

    _Bap._ What, in my sight? Bianca, get thee in.                    30
                                                 [_Exit Bianca._

    _Kath._ What, will you not suffer me? Nay, now I see
    She is your treasure, she must have a husband;
    I must dance bare-foot on her wedding day
    And for your love to her lead apes in hell.
    Talk not to me: I will go sit and weep                            35
    Till I can find occasion of revenge.                [_Exit._

    _Bap._ Was ever gentleman thus grieved as I?
    But who comes here?

_Enter_ GREMIO, LUCENTIO _in the habit of a mean man_; PETRUCHIO, _with_
HORTENSIO _as a musician_; _and_ TRANIO, _with_ BIONDELLO _bearing a
lute and books_.

    _Gre._ Good morrow, neighbour Baptista.

    _Bap._ Good morrow, neighbour Gremio. God save you,               40
    gentlemen!

    _Pet._ And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughter
    Call'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?

    _Bap._ I have a daughter, sir, called Katharina.

    _Gre._ You are too blunt: go to it orderly.                       45

    _Pet._ You wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.
    I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,
    That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,
    Her affability and bashful modesty,
    Her wondrous qualities and mild behaviour,                        50
    Am bold to show myself a forward guest
    Within your house, to make mine eye the witness
    Of that report which I so oft have heard.
    And, for an entrance to my entertainment,
    I do present you with a man of mine,                              55
                                        [_Presenting Hortensio._
    Cunning in music and the mathematics,
    To instruct her fully in those sciences,
    Whereof I know she is not ignorant:
    Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:
    His name is Licio, born in Mantua.                                60

    _Bap._ You're welcome, sir; and he, for your good sake.
    But for my daughter Katharine, this I know,
    She is not for your turn, the more my grief.

    _Pet._ I see you do not mean to part with her,
    Or else you like not of my company.                               65

    _Bap._ Mistake me not; I speak but as I find.
    Whence are you, sir? what may I call your name?

    _Pet._ Petruchio is my name; Antonio's son,
    A man well known throughout all Italy.

    _Bap._ I know him well: you are welcome for his sake.             70

    _Gre._ Saving your tale, Petruchio, I pray,
    Let us, that are poor petitioners, speak too:
    Baccare! you are marvellous forward.

    _Pet._ O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.

    _Gre._ I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse your wooing.       75
    Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I am sure of it. To
    express the like kindness, myself, that have been more
    kindly beholding to you than any, freely give unto you
    this young scholar [_presenting Lucentio_], that hath been
    long studying at Rheims; as cunning in Greek, Latin, and          80
    other languages, as the other in music and mathematics:
    his name is Cambio; pray, accept his service.

    _Bap._ A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio. Welcome,
    good Cambio. But, gentle sir [_to Tranio_], methinks you
    walk like a stranger: may I be so bold to know the cause          85
    of your coming?

    _Tra._ Pardon me, sir, the boldness is mine own;
    That, being a stranger in this city here,
    Do make myself a suitor to your daughter,
    Unto Bianca, fair and virtuous.                                   90
    Nor is your firm resolve unknown to me,
    In the preferment of the eldest sister.
    This liberty is all that I request,
    That, upon knowledge of my parentage,
    I may have welcome 'mongst the rest that woo                      95
    And free access and favour as the rest:
    And, toward the education of your daughters,
    I here bestow a simple instrument,
    And this small packet of Greek and Latin books:
    If you accept them, then their worth is great.                   100

    _Bap._ Lucentio is your name; of whence, I pray?

    _Tra._ Of Pisa, sir; son to Vincentio.

    _Bap._ A mighty man of Pisa; by report
    I know him well: you are very welcome, sir.
    Take you the lute, and you the set of books;                     105
    You shall go see your pupils presently.
    Holla, within!

_Enter a_ Servant.

                   Sirrah, lead these gentlemen
    To my daughters; and tell them both,
    These are their tutors: bid them use them well.
             [_Exit Servant, with Luc. and Hor., Bio. following._
    We will go walk a little in the orchard,                         110
    And then to dinner. You are passing welcome,
    And so I pray you all to think yourselves.

    _Pet._ Signior Baptista, my business asketh haste,
    And every day I cannot come to woo.
    You knew my father well, and in him me,                          115
    Left solely heir to all his lands and goods,
    Which I have better'd rather than decreased:
    Then tell me, if I get your daughter's love,
    What dowry shall I have with her to wife?

    _Bap._ After my death the one half of my lands,                  120
    And in possession twenty thousand crowns.

    _Pet._ And, for that dowry, I 'll assure her of
    Her widowhood, be it that she survive me,
    In all my lands and leases whatsoever:
    Let specialties be therefore drawn between us,                   125
    That covenants may be kept on either hand.

    _Bap._ Ay, when the special thing is well obtain'd,
    That is, her love; for that is all in all.

    _Pet._ Why, that is nothing; for I tell you, father,
    I am as peremptory as she proud-minded;                          130
    And where two raging fires meet together
    They do consume the thing that feeds their fury:
    Though little fire grows great with little wind,
    Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all:
    So I to her and so she yields to me;                             135
    For I am rough and woo not like a babe.

    _Bap._ Well mayst thou woo, and happy be thy speed!
    But be thou arm'd for some unhappy words.

    _Pet._ Ay, to the proof; as mountains are for winds,
    That shake not, though they blow perpetually.                    140

_Re-enter_ HORTENSIO, _with his head broke_.

    _Bap._ How now, my friend! why dost thou look so pale?

    _Hor._ For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.

    _Bap._ What, will my daughter prove a good musician?

    _Hor._ I think she'll sooner prove a soldier:
    Iron may hold with her, but never lutes.                         145

    _Bap._ Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?

    _Hor._ Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
    I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
    And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering;
    When, with a most impatient devilish spirit,                     150
    'Frets, call you these?' quoth she; 'I'll fume with them:'
    And, with that word, she struck me on the head,
    And through the instrument my pate made way;
    And there I stood amazed for a while,
    As on a pillory, looking through the lute;                       155
    While she did call me rascal fiddler
    And twangling Jack; with twenty such vile terms,
    As had she studied to misuse me so.

    _Pet._ Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench;
    I love her ten times more than e'er I did:                       160
    O, how I long to have some chat with her!

    _Bap._ Well, go with me and be not so discomfited:
    Proceed in practice with my younger daughter;
    She's apt to learn and thankful for good turns.
    Signior Petruchio, will you go with us,                          165
    Or shall I send my daughter Kate to you?

    _Pet._ I pray you do; I will attend her here,
              [_Exeunt Baptista, Gremio, Tranio, and Hortensio._
    And woo her with some spirit when she comes.
    Say that she rail; why then I'll tell her plain
    She sings as sweetly as a nightingale:                           170
    Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
    As morning roses newly wash'd with dew:
    Say she be mute and will not speak a word;
    Then I'll commend her volubility,
    And say she uttereth piercing eloquence:                         175
    If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks,
    As though she bid me stay by her a week:
    If she deny to wed, I'll crave the day
    When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.
    But here she comes; and now, Petruchio, speak.                   180

_Enter_ KATHARINA.

    Good morrow, Kate; for that's your name, I hear.

    _Kath._ Well have you heard, but something hard of hearing:
    They call me Katharine that do talk of me.

    _Pet._ You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,
    And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst;                    185
    But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom,
    Kate of Kate-Hall, my super-dainty Kate,
    For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,
    Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;
    Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,                      190
    Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,
    Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,
    Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.

    _Kath._ Moved! in good time: let him that moved you hither
    Remove you hence: I knew you at the first                        195
    You were a moveable.

    _Pet._               Why, what's a moveable?

    _Kath._ A join'd-stool.

    _Pet._                  Thou hast hit it: come, sit on me.

    _Kath._ Asses are made to bear, and so are you.

    _Pet._ Women are made to bear, and so are you.

    _Kath._ No such jade as you, if me you mean.                     200

    _Pet._ Alas, good Kate, I will not burden thee!
    For, knowing thee to be but young and light,--

    _Kath._ Too light for such a swain as you to catch;
    And yet as heavy as my weight should be.

    _Pet._ Should be! should--buzz!

    _Kath._                 Well ta'en, and like a buzzard.          205

    _Pet._ O slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

    _Kath._ Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.

    _Pet._ Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry.

    _Kath._ If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

    _Pet._ My remedy is then, to pluck it out.                       210

    _Kath._ Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies.

    _Pet._ Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?
    In his tail.

    _Kath._ In his tongue.

    _Pet._                 Whose tongue?

    _Kath._ Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell.

    _Pet._ What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again,       215
    Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

    _Kath._                 That I'll try.   [_She strikes him._

    _Pet._ I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again.

    _Kath._ So may you lose your arms:
    If you strike me, you are no gentleman;
    And if no gentleman, why then no arms.                           220

    _Pet._ A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books!

    _Kath._ What is your crest? a coxcomb?

    _Pet._ A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen.

    _Kath._ No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven.

    _Pet._ Nay, come, Kate, come; you must not look so sour.         225

    _Kath._ It is my fashion, when I see a crab.

    _Pet._ Why, here's no crab; and therefore look not sour.

    _Kath._ There is, there is.

    _Pet._ Then show it me.

    _Kath._                 Had I a glass, I would.

    _Pet._ What, you mean my face?

    _Kath._                 Well aim'd of such a young one.          230

    _Pet._ Now, by Saint George, I am too young for you.

    _Kath._ Yet you are wither'd.

    _Pet._                        'Tis with cares.

    _Kath._                                  I care not.

    _Pet._ Nay, hear you, Kate: in sooth you scape not so.

    _Kath._ I chafe you, if I tarry: let me go.

    _Pet._ No, not a whit: I find you passing gentle.                235
    'Twas told me you were rough and coy and sullen,
    And now I find report a very liar;
    For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous,
    But slow in speech, yet sweet as spring-time flowers:
    Thou canst not frown, thou canst not look askance,               240
    Nor bite the lip, as angry wenches will,
    Nor hast thou pleasure to be cross in talk,
    But thou with mildness entertain'st thy wooers,
    With gentle conference, soft and affable.
    Why does the world report that Kate doth limp?                   245
    O slanderous world! Kate like the hazel-twig
    Is straight and slender and as brown in hue
    As hazel-nuts and sweeter than the kernels.
    O, let me see thee walk: thou dost not halt.

    _Kath._ Go, fool, and whom thou keep'st command.                 250

    _Pet._ Did ever Dian so become a grove
    As Kate this chamber with her princely gait?
    O, be thou Dian, and let her be Kate;
    And then let Kate be chaste and Dian sportful!

    _Kath._ Where did you study all this goodly speech?              255

    _Pet._ It is extempore, from my mother-wit.

    _Kath._ A witty mother! witless else her son.

    _Pet._ Am I not wise?

    _Kath._               Yes; keep you warm.

    _Pet._ Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharine, in thy bed:
    And therefore, setting all this chat aside,                      260
    Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
    That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
    And, will you, nill you, I will marry you.
    Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
    For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,                    265
    Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,
    Thou must be married to no man but me;
    For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
    And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
    Conformable as other household Kates.                            270
    Here comes your father: never make denial;
    I must and will have Katharine to my wife.

_Re-enter_ BAPTISTA, GREMIO, _and_ TRANIO.

    _Bap._ Now, Signior Petruchio, how speed you with my daughter?

    _Pet._ How but well, sir? how but well?
    It were impossible I should speed amiss.                         275

    _Bap._ Why, how now, daughter Katharine! in your dumps?

    _Kath._ Call you me daughter? now, I promise you
    You have show'd a tender fatherly regard,
    To wish me wed to one half lunatic;
    A mad-cap ruffian and a swearing Jack,                           280
    That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

    _Pet._ Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world,
    That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her:
    If she be curst, it is for policy,
    For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;                   285
    She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
    For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
    And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
    And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together,
    That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.                             290

    _Kath._ I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

    _Gre._ Hark, Petruchio; she says she'll see thee hang'd first.

    _Tra._ Is this your speeding? nay, then, good night our part!

    _Pet._ Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself:
    If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?                     295
    'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
    That she shall still be curst in company.
    I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
    How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate!
    She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss                         300
    She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
    That in a twink she won me to her love.
    O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
    How tame, when men and women are alone,
    A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.                    305
    Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice,
    To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
    Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
    I will be sure my Katharine shall be fine.


    _Bap._ I know not what to say: but give me your hands;           310
    God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.

    _Gre. Tra._ Amen, say we: we will be witnesses.

    _Pet._ Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu;
    I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace:
    We will have rings, and things, and fine array;                  315
    And, kiss me, Kate, we will be married o' Sunday.
                    [_Exeunt Petruchio and Katharina severally._

    _Gre._ Was ever match clapp'd up so suddenly?

    _Bap._ Faith, gentlemen, now I play a merchant's part,
    And venture madly on a desperate mart.

    _Tra._ 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you:                    320
    'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

    _Bap._ The gain I seek is, quiet in the match.

    _Gre._ No doubt but he hath got a quiet catch.
    But now, Baptista, to your younger daughter:
    Now is the day we long have looked for:                          325
    I am your neighbour, and was suitor first.

    _Tra._ And I am one that love Bianca more
    Than words can witness, or your thoughts can guess.

    _Gre._ Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.

    _Tra._ Greybeard, thy love doth freeze.

    _Gre._                              But thine doth fry.          330
    Skipper, stand back: 'tis age that nourisheth.

    _Tra._ But youth in ladies' eyes that flourisheth.

    _Bap._ Content you, gentlemen: I will compound this strife:
    'Tis deeds must win the prize; and he, of both,
    That can assure my daughter greatest dower                       335
    Shall have my Bianca's love.
    Say, Signior Gremio, what can you assure her?

    _Gre._ First, as you know, my house within the city
    Is richly furnished with plate and gold;
    Basins and ewers to lave her dainty hands;                       340
    My hangings all of Tyrian tapestry;
    In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns;
    In cypress chests my arras counterpoints,
    Costly apparel, tents, and canopies,
    Fine linen, Turkey cushions boss'd with pearl,                   345
    Valance of Venice gold in needlework,
    Pewter and brass and all things that belong
    To house or housekeeping: then, at my farm
    I have a hundred milch-kine to the pail,
    Sixscore fat oxen standing in my stalls,                         350
    And all things answerable to this portion.
    Myself am struck in years, I must confess;
    And if I die to-morrow, this is hers,
    If whilst I live she will be only mine.

    _Tra._ That 'only' came well in. Sir, list to me:                355
    I am my father's heir and only son:
    If I may have your daughter to my wife,
    I'll leave her houses three or four as good,
    Within rich Pisa walls, as any one
    Old Signior Gremio has in Padua;                                 360
    Besides two thousand ducats by the year
    Of fruitful land, all which shall be her jointure.
    What, have I pinch'd you, Signior Gremio?

    _Gre._ Two thousand ducats by the year of land!
    My land amounts not to so much in all:                           365
    That she shall have; besides an argosy
    That now is lying in Marseilles' road.
    What, have I choked you with an argosy?

    _Tra._ Gremio, 'tis known my father hath no less
    Than three great argosies; besides two galliasses,               370
    And twelve tight galleys: these I will assure her,
    And twice as much, whate'er thou offer'st next.

    _Gre._ Nay, I have offer'd all, I have no more;
    And she can have no more than all I have:
    If you like me, she shall have me and mine.                      375

    _Tra._ Why, then the maid is mine from all the world,
    By your firm promise: Gremio is out-vied.

    _Bap._ I must confess your offer is the best;
    And, let your father make her the assurance,
    She is your own; else, you must pardon me,                       380
    If you should die before him, where's her dower?

    _Tra._ That's but a cavil: he is old, I young.

    _Gre._ And may not young men die, as well as old?

    _Bap._ Well, gentlemen,
    I am thus resolved: on Sunday next you know                      385
    My daughter Katharine is to be married:
    Now, on the Sunday following, shall Bianca
    Be bride to you, if you make this assurance;
    If not, to Signior Gremio:
    And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.                     390

    _Gre._ Adieu, good neighbour.              [_Exit Baptista._
                                        Now I fear thee not:
    Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool
    To give thee all, and in his waning age
    Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy!
    An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.          [_Exit._     395


    _Tra._ A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!
    Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.
    'Tis in my head to do my master good:
    I see no reason but supposed Lucentio
    Must get a father, call'd--supposed Vincentio;                   400
    And that's a wonder: fathers commonly
    Do get their children; but in this case of wooing,
    A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
                                                        [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  [3] _gawds_] Theobald, _goods_ Ff Q. _gards_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [4] _pull_] _put_ Boswell.

  [8] _charge thee_] F2 F3 F4. _charge_ F1 Q.

  [10] _the_] om. S. Walker conj.

  [13] _Is't_] F1 F2 F3. _It's_ Q. _is it_ F4.

  [14] _you_] Ff. _thou_ Q.

  [17] _you fair_] _you fine_ Johnson conj. _your fair_ Halliwell conj.

  [18] _envy me so_] _so envy me_ Pope.

  [21] _untie_] Ff. _unite_ Q.

  [25] _thy_] Ff. _the_ Q.

  [29] [Flies after B.] Ff Q. Flies at B. Hanmer.

  [30] [Exit B.] Exit. Ff Q.

  [31] _What_] om. Pope.

  [37] _ever_] _never_ F2.

  [39] SCENE II. Pope.

  Petruchio ... books] Rowe. Petruchio with Tranio, with his boy bearing
  a Lute and Bookes. Ff Q.

  [40] _God save_] _Save_ Capell conj.

  [42, 43] _And you_ ... _virtuous_] Printed as prose in Ff Q as verse
  first by Capell.

  [43] _fair_] om. Q.

  [45] _too_] _to_ Q.

  [50] _wondrous_] _woman's_ Collier MS.

  [60] _Licio_] F2 F3 F4. _Litio_ F1 Q.

  [61] _You're_] Warburton. _Y'are_ Ff Q. _You 'are_ Theobald.

  [62] _Katharine_] _Katerine_ F1 Q F2. _Katerina_ F3. _Katherina_ F4.

  [63] _the more_] F1 Q F2. _the more's_ F3 F4.

  [66] _as_] F1 Q. _what_ F2 F3 F4.

  [71-73] _Saving_ ... _forward_] Steevens. Printed as prose in Ff Q;
  first as three lines of verse by Capell, ending _let_ ... _too_ ...
  _forward_, _sir_.

  [71] _I pray_] _pray_ S. Walker conj.

  [73] _Baccare_] F2 F3 F4. _Bacare_ F1 Q. _Baccalare_ Theobald
  (Warburton).

  [75-82] _I doubt_ ... _service_] Printed first as prose by Pope; in Ff
  Q as ten lines, ending _curse_ ... _gift_ ... _express_ ... _been_ ...
  _any_ ... _hath_ ... _cunning_... _languages_, ... _mathematics:_ ...
  _service:_ by Capell as ten lines, ending _wooing_. ... _Neighbour_,
  ... _it:_ ... _myself_, ... _any_,-- ... _scholar_, ... _cunning_ ...
  _languages_, ... _mathematicks:_ ... _service_.

  [75, 76] _wooing_. _Neighbour_, _this_] Theobald, _wooing neighbors:
  this_ F1 Q. _wooing neighbours: this_ F2 F3 F4. _wooing_,
  _neighbours_. _This_ Rowe (ed. 1). _wooing_. _Neighbours this_ Rowe
  (ed. 2).

  [76] _Neighbour_] _Neighbour_ [to Baptista] Capell.

  _To_] _And--to_ Capell.

  [78] _kindly_] om. Capell.

  _beholding_] _beholden_ Pope.

  _freely give unto you_] Edd. (Glover conj.). _I freely give unto you_
  Capell (Tyrwhitt conj.). _Freely give unto_ F1 Q F2. _Free leave give
  unto_ F3 F4.

  [79] [presenting Lucentio] Rowe.

  [80] _Rheims_] _Rhemes_ Ff Q.

  _Greek_, _Latin_] _Latin_, _Greek_ Capell.

  [81] _mathematics_] _the mathematics_ Capell.

  [82] _pray_] _pray you_ Q.

  [83-86] _A thousand_ ... _coming?_ Printed first as prose by Pope; as
  four lines in Ff Q, ending _Gremio:_ ... _sir_, ... _stranger_, ...
  _coming?_

  [83, 85] _Signior_ ... _walk_ ... _so bold_ ..._cause_] _good signior_
  ... _walk here_ ... _bold_ ... _cause too_ Capell, ending line 85,
  _may I_.

  [89] _myself_] F1 Q F3 F4. _thy selfe_ F2.

  [99] _packet_] _pack_ S. Walker conj.

  [100] [They greet privately. Theobald.

  [101] Bap. _Lucentio is your name_; _of whence_, _I pray?_] _Lucentio
  is my_ _name_. Bap. _Of whence_, _I pray?_ Theobald conj.

  [103] _Pisa; by report_] Rowe. _Pisa_ _by report_, Ff Q.

  [104] _know_] _knew_ Rann (Capell conj.).

  _you are_] _you're_ Capell.

  [107] _within_] _within there_ Capell.

  _lead_] _shew_ Capell, corrected in M.S.

  [107, 108] _Sirrah_ ... _both_] Steevens. prints as two lines, ending
  _lead_ ... _both_.

  [108] _To_ ... _both_] _In to my daughters_; _tell them both from me_
  Capell conj.

  _daughters_] F1 Q. _two daughters_ F2 F3 F4.

  _tell_] F1 Q. _then tell_ F2 F3 F4.

  [109] [Exit ... Hor.] Theobald. Bio....] Capell.

  [115] _knew_] F1 Q. _know_ F2 F3 F4.

  [116] _solely_] Rowe. _solie_ F1 Q F2 F3. _soly_ F4.

  [122] _of_] _for_ Hanmer. _on_ Steevens conj.

  [124] _whatsoever_] _whosoever_ F2.

  [140] _shake_] F2 F3 F4. _shakes_ F1 Q.

  [141] SCENE III. Pope.

  [144] _sooner_] om. Q.

  [147] _to me_] _on me_ Hanmer.

  [150] _most_] _moist_ Q.

  [151] _these_] _them_ Rowe.

  [156] _rascal fiddler_] Capell. _rascal_, _fidler_ Ff Q.

  [158] _had she_] Ff Q. _she had_ Rowe.

  [162] _discomfited_] _discomforted_ Capell conj.

  [167] _I will_] Rowe. _Ile_ F1 Q. _I_ F2 F3 F4.

  [Exeunt....] Exit. Manet Petruchio. Ff Q.

  [179] _banns_] Johnson. _banes_ Ff Q.

  [185] _bonny_] F4. _bony_ F1 Q F2 F3.

  [188] _Kates_] _cates_ Pope.

  [191] _sounded_] _founded_ F2.

  [197] _join'd_] _joint_ Capell.

  [200] _jade as you_] F1 Q. _jade_, _sir_, _as you_ F2 F3 F4. _jack_,
  _sir_, _as you_ Farmer conj. _jade as you--bear!_ Jackson conj.
  _load_, _sir_, _as you_ Singer. _jade to bear you_ Collier MS. _jade
  as_ _bear you_ Dyce. _jade as to bear you_ Collier (ed. 2). _load as
  you_ Grant White. _a jade as you_ S. Walker conj.

  [205-232] _Should be_ ... _care not_] Put in the margin as spurious by
  Pope.

  [205] _Should_ ... _buzz!_] _Shold be_, _should: buzze_. F1 Q. _Should
  be_, _should:_ _buzze_. F2 F3. _Should be_, _should: buz_. F4. _Should
  be! should! buz_. Rowe. _Should bee;--should buz_.--Theobald. _Should!
  Bee: should! ... buz_. Hanmer.

  [209] _best_] _'best_ F3 F4.

  [211] _Ay_] _Ah_ Theobald.

  _find it_] _find out_ Collier MS.

  [212] _does_] _doth_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [212, 213] _Who_ ... _tail_] Printed as prose in Ff Q.

  [213] Kath. _In his tongue_. Pet. _Whose tongue?_] Cat. _In his tail!
  in_ _his tongue_. Pet. _In his tongue? whose_ _tongue?_ Capell.

  [214] _tails_] Rowe (ed. 2). _tailes_ Q. _tales_ Ff.

  [215, 216] _nay_ ... _gentleman_] Pope. Printed as one line in Ff Q.

  [218-222] _So_ ... _coxcomb?_] Printed by Capell is four lines, ending
  _me_ ... _gentlemen_ ... _put_ ... _coxcomb?_

  [227] _sour_] _so sour_ Theobald.

  [240] _askance_] Capell. _a sconce_ F1 Q _a scance_ F2 F3 F4.
  _ascance_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [245] _does_] _doth_ Rowe.

  [250] _keep'st_] _keepest_, _those_ Hanmer.

  [257] _witless_] _witness_ Capell.

  _else_] _elfe_ Theobald conj.

  [258] _keep_] _to keep_ Rann.

  [259] _Marry_] _Why_ Pope.

  [269] _wild Kate_] _wilde Kate_ F1 Q. _wild Kat_ F2 F3 F4. _wild cat_
  Rowe.

  [270] _Kates_] _cats_ Theobald conj.

  [273] SCENE V. Pope.

  Re-enter....] Enter.... Pope. Enter... Ff Q (after line 267).

  ... Tranio.] Q. Trayno. Ff.

  _Now_] om. Hanmer.

  [277] Kath.] Pet. Theobald.

  [278] _You have_] _You've_ Pope.

  [286] _morn_] _moon_ Collier MS.

  [287] _Grissel_] _Grizelde_ Capell.

  [289] _we have_] _we've_ Pope.

  [291] _on_] _o'_ Capell.

  [292] _Hark_] _Hark_, _hark_ Hanmer.

  _hang'd_] _hang'd o' Sunday_ Capell.

  [293] _nay_] om. Hanmer.

  _part_] _pact_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [294] _gentlemen_] _sirs_ Pope.

  [301] _vied_] _ply'd_ Johnson conj. _vent_ Bubier conj.

  [308] _Provide the feast_, _father_] _Father_, _provide the feast_,
  Pope.

  [310] _me_] om. Pope.

  [316] _we will be married_] _we'll_ _marry_ Hanmer.

  _o' Sunday_] Hanmer. _a sonday_ F1 Q F2. _a Sunday_ F3 F4.

  [Exeunt P. and K. severally] Theobald. [Exit P. and K. Ff Q.

  [317] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [322] _in_] Rowe (ed. 2). _me_ Ff Q.

  [336] _my Bianca's love_.] F1 Q. _Bianca's love_. F2 F3 F4. _Bianca's_
  _love_.--_And_, _first_, _to you;_ Capell.

  [343] _arras_] Ff Q. _arras_, Rowe (ed. 2).

  _counterpoints_] _counterpanes_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [346] _Valance_] Pope. _Vallens_ Ff Q.

  [347] _belong_] Rowe. _belongs_ Ff Q.

  [351] _portion_] _proportion_ Theobald conj.

  [352] _struck_] F3 F4. _strooke_ F1 Q F2. _stuck_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [362] _jointure_] Rowe. _ioynter_ F1 Q. _joynter_ F2 F3 F4.

  [365] _not to_] _but to_ Warburton. _yet_ _to_ Staunton conj.

  [367] _Marseilles'_] _Marcellus_ F1 Q. _Marsellis_ F2 F3 F4.

  [384-389] _Well_ ... _Gremio_] Printed by Hanmer as five lines, ending
  _resolv'd:_ ... _Catharine_ ... _following_ ... _if_ _you_ ...
  _Gremio_.

  [384, 385. _Well_ ... _resolved_] Capell; as one line in Ff Q.

  [384] _gentlemen_] _gentlemen_, _then_ Pope, ending lines 384, 385
  _resolv'd_ ... _know_.

  [387] _the_] om. Hanmer.

  _shall Bianca_] _Bianca shall_ Hanmer.

  [388] _to you_] _to you_, _Lucentio_ Capell.

  _make this assurance_] _Th' assurance_ _make_ Hanmer.

  [400] _Must_] _May_ Rowe.

  [401] _wonder_] _wonders_ Q.

  [402] _wooing_] _winning_ Collier (Capell conj.).

  [403] _cunning_] _doing_ Rann (Steevens conj.). See note (XIII).




ACT III.

SCENE I. _Padua_. BAPTISTA'S _house_.


_Enter_ LUCENTIO, HORTENSIO, _and_ BIANCA.

    _Luc._ Fiddler, forbear; you grow too forward, sir:
    Have you so soon forgot the entertainment
    Her sister Katharine welcomed you withal?

    _Hor._ But, wrangling pedant, this is
    The patroness of heavenly harmony:                                 5
    Then give me leave to have prerogative;
    And when in music we have spent an hour,
    Your lecture shall have leisure for as much.

    _Luc._ Preposterous ass, that never read so far
    To know the cause why music was ordain'd!                         10
    Was it not to refresh the mind of man
    After his studies or his usual pain?
    Then give me leave to read philosophy,
    And while I pause, serve in your harmony.

    _Hor._ Sirrah, I will not bear these braves of thine.             15

    _Bian._ Why, gentlemen, you do me double wrong,
    To strive for that which resteth in my choice:
    I am no breeching scholar in the schools;
    I'll not be tied to hours nor 'pointed times,
    But learn my lessons as I please myself.                          20
    And, to cut off all strife, here sit we down:
    Take you your instrument, play you the whiles;
    His lecture will be done ere you have tuned.

    _Hor._ You'll leave his lecture when I am in tune?

    _Luc._ That will be never: tune your instrument.                  25

    _Bian._ Where left we last?

    _Luc._ Here, madam:

        'Hic ibat Simois; hic est Sigeia tellus;
          Hic steterat Priami regia celsa senis.'

    _Bian._ Construe them.                                            30

    _Luc._ 'Hic ibat,' as I told you before,--'Simois,' I am
    Lucentio,--'hic est,' son unto Vincentio of Pisa,--'Sigeia
    tellus,' disguised thus to get your love;--' Hic steterat,' and
    that Lucentio that comes a-wooing,--'Priami,' is my man
    Tranio,--'regia,' bearing my port,--'celsa senis,' that we        35
    might beguile the old pantaloon.

    _Hor._ Madam, my instrument's in tune.

    _Bian._ Let's hear. O fie! the treble jars.

    _Luc._ Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.

    _Bian._ Now let me see if I can construe it:                      40

    'Hic ibat Simois,' I know you not,--'hic est Sigeia tellus,'
    I trust you not;--'Hic steterat Priami,' take heed he hear
    us not,--'regia,' presume not,--'celsa senis,' despair not.

    _Hor._ Madam, 'tis now in tune.

    _Luc._                           All but the base.

    _Hor._ The base is right; 'tis the base knave that jars.          45
    [_Aside_] How fiery and forward our pedant is!
    Now, for my life, the knave doth court my love:
    Pedascule, I'll watch you better yet.

    _Bian._ In time I may believe, yet I mistrust.

    _Luc._ Mistrust it not; for, sure, Æacides                        50
    Was Ajax, call'd so from his grandfather.

    _Bian._ I must believe my master; else, I promise you,
    I should be arguing still upon that doubt:
    But let it rest. Now, Licio, to you:
    Good masters, take it not unkindly, pray,                         55
    That I have been thus pleasant with you both.

    _Hor._ You may go walk, and give me leave a while:
    My lessons make no music in three parts.

    _Luc._ Are you so formal, sir? well, I must wait,
    [_Aside_] And watch withal; for, but I be deceived,               60
    Our fine musician groweth amorous.

    _Hor._ Madam, before you touch the instrument,
    To learn the order of my fingering,
    I must begin with rudiments of art;
    To teach you gamut in a briefer sort,                             65
    More pleasant, pithy, and effectual,
    Than hath been taught by any of my trade:
    And there it is in writing, fairly drawn.

    _Bian._ Why, I am past my gamut long ago.

    _Hor._ Yet read the gamut of Hortensio.                           70

    _Bian._ [_reads_] "'Gamut' I am, the ground of all accord,
          'A re,' to plead Hortensio's passion;
        'B mi,' Bianca, take him for thy lord,
          'C fa ut,' that loves with all affection:
        'D sol re,' one clef, two notes have I:                       75
        'E la mi,' show pity, or I die."

    Call you this gamut? tut, I like it not:
    Old fashions please me best; I am not so nice,
    To change true rules for old inventions.

_Enter a_ Servant.

  _Serv._ Mistress, your father prays you leave your books, 80 And help
  to dress your sister's chamber up: You know to morrow is the
  wedding-day.

  _Bian._ Farewell, sweet masters both; I must be gone.
                                   [_Exeunt Bianca and Servant._

  _Luc._ Faith, mistress, then I have no cause to stay. [_Exit._

  _Hor._ But I have cause to pry into this pedant: 85 Methinks he looks
  as though he were in love: Yet if thy thoughts, Bianca, be so humble,
  To cast thy wandering eyes on every stale, Seize thee that list: if
  once I find thee ranging, Hortensio will be quit with thee by
  changing.                                             [_Exit._      90

LINENOTES:

  ACT III. SCENE I.] Actus Tertia. F1 Q. Actus Tertius. F2 F3
  F4. ACT II. SCENE II. Capell.

  Baptista's house.] Theobald. Another room. Capell.

  [4] _But_ ... _this is_] _Wrangling pedant_, _this_ Pope. _She is a
  shrew_, _but_, _wrangling_ _pedant_, _this is_ Theobald. _But_,
  _wrangling pedant_, _know this lady is_ Hanmer. _But_, _wrangling
  pedant_, _this_ _lady is_ Malone conj. _Tut_, _wrangling_ _pedant_, _I
  avouch this is_ Collier (Collier MS.). See note (IX).

  _this is_] _this'_ S. Walker conj. ending lines 4-6 with _patroness_
  ... _leave_ ... _prerogative_.

  [14] _while_] _when_ Capell (corrected in note).

  [15] _not_] om. Q.

  [19] _'pointed_] Hanmer. _pointed_ Ff Q.

  [22] _your_] _the_ Q.

  _play you the whiles_] play _you the while_ Pope. _stay you a while_
  Hanmer.

  [24] [Hortensio retires. Pope. [To Bianca, taking up his lute.
  Capell.

  [26] [Sitting to a table with Luc. Capell.

  [27] [Shewing a book. Capell.

  [28, 31, 41. _Hic_] Ff Q. _Hac_ Theobald.

  _Sigeia_] F3 F4. _sigeria_ F1 Q. _sigeia_ F2.

  [30, 40. _Construe_] F4. _Conster_ F1 Q F2 F3.

  [32] _Sigeia_] F2 F3 F4. _Sigeria_ F1 Q.

  [37] Hor.] Hor. [returning] Pope.

  [38] [Hortensio plays. Capell.

  [41] _ibat_] _that_ F3 F4.

  _Sigeia_] _sigeia_ F2 F3 F4. _sigeria_ F1 Q.

  [42] _steterat_] F2 F3 F4. _staterat_ F1 Q.

  [44] [Hortensio plays. Edd. conj.

  [46] _How ... is!_] Luc. _How fiery and_ _forward our pedant is_, F1 Q
  F2. Luc. _How_ ... _froward_ ... _is_, F2 F3 F4 (_is!_ F4). _How fiery
  and froward our pedant is!_ Rowe (ed. 2). _How fiery and how_ _froward
  is our pedant!_ Pope. _How_ _fiery and how forward is our pedant!_
  Capell.

  [47] _the_] F1 Q. _that_ F2 F3 F4.

  [48] _Pedascule_] _Pedascale_ Warburton. _Didascule_ Harness conj.

  [49] _In_ ... _mistrust_] Continued to Luc. in Ff Q. Given to Bian. by
  Pope (ed. 2).

  [Seeing Hor. listen. Capell.

  [50] Luc.] Pope (ed. 2). Bian. Ff Q.

  [52] Bian.] Pope (ed. 2). Hort. Ff Q.

  [54] [rising. Capell.

  [55] _masters_] Rowe (ed. 2). _master_ Ff Q.

  [57] Hor.] Hort. F1 Q. Bian. F2 F3 F4.

  [59-61] [Aside. Johnson.

  [60] [Aside] Edd.

  [65] _gamut_] Rowe. _gamoth_ Ff Q.

  [69, 70, 71, 77.] _gamut_] Rowe. _gamouth_ F1 Q. _gamoth_ F2 F3 F4.

  [72] _A re_] Q. _Are_ Ff.

  [73] _B mi_] Pope. _B eme_ Ff Q.

  [74] _C fa ut_] Q. _Cfavt_ F1 F2. _Cfaut_ F3 F4.

  _loves_] _loves thee_ Hanmer.

  [75] _clef_] _cliffe_ F1 Q F2 F3 _cliff_ F4.

  _two_] _but two_ Pope. _not two_ Capell.

  [76] _show_] _show me_ Hanmer.

  [78] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [79] _change_]F2 F3 F4. _charge_ F1 Q.

  _true_ ... _ola_] Ff Q. _true_ ... _new_ Rowe (ed. 2). _true_ ...
  _odd_ Theobald. _old_ ... _new_ Long conj. MS. _new_ ... _old_ Malone
  conj.

  Enter a Servant.] Rowe. Enter a Messenger. Ff Q.

  [80] Serv.] Rowe. Nicke. F1 Q F2. Nick. F3 F4. See note (iv).

  [83] [Exeunt B. and S.] Capell. Ex. Rowe. Exit. Pope.

  [84] [Exit.] Rowe.

  [86] _were_] _was_ Q.

  [89] _that_] _who_ Pope.


SCENE II. _Padua_. _Before_ BAPTISTA'S _house_.

_Enter_ BAPTISTA, GREMIO, TRANIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, LUCENTIO,
_and_ others, attendants.

    _Bap_. Signior Lucentio [_to Tranio_], this is the 'pointed day.
    That Katharine and Petruchio should be married,
    And yet we hear not of our son-in-law.
    What will be said? what mockery will it be,
    To want the bridegroom when the priest attends                     5
    To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage!
    What says Lucentio to this shame of ours?

    _Kath._ No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forced
    To give my hand, opposed against my heart,
    Unto a mad-brain rudesby, full of spleen;                         10
    Who woo'd in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
    I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
    Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behaviour:
    And, to be noted for a merry man.
    He'll woo a thousand, 'point the day of marriage,                 15
    Make friends, invite, and proclaim the banns;
    Yet never means to wed where he hath woo'd.
    Now must the world point at poor Katharine,
    And say, 'Lo, there is mad Petruchio's wife,
    If it would please him come and marry her!'                       20

    _Tra._ Patience, good Katharine, and Baptista too.
    Upon my life, Petruchio means but well,
    Whatever fortune stays him from his word:
    Though he be blunt, I know him passing wise;
    Though he be merry, yet withal he's honest.                       25

    _Kath._ Would Katharine had never seen him though!
                 [_Exit weeping, followed by Bianca and others._

    _Bap._ Go, girl; I cannot blame thee now to weep;
    For such an injury would vex a very saint,
    Much more a shrew of thy impatient humour.

_Enter_ BIONDELLO.

    _Bion._ Master, master! news, old news, and such news             30
    as you never heard of!

    _Bap._ Is it new and old too? how may that be?

    _Bion._ Why, is it not news, to hear of Petruchio's coming?

    _Bap._ Is he come?

    _Bion._ Why, no, sir.                                             35

    _Bap._ What then?

    _Bion._ He is coming.

    _Bap._ When will he be here?

    _Bion._ When he stands where I am and sees you there.

    _Tra._ But say, what to thine old news?                           40

    _Bion._ Why, Petruchio is coming in a new hat and an old
    jerkin, a pair of old breeches thrice turned, a pair of boots
    that have been candle-cases, one buckled, another laced, an
    old rusty sword ta'en out of the town-armoury, with a
    broken hilt, and chapeless; with two broken points: his           45
    horse hipped with an old mothy saddle and stirrups of no
    kindred; besides, possessed with the glanders and like to
    mose in the chine; troubled with the lampass, infected with
    the fashions, full of windgalls, sped with spavins, rayed with
    the yellows, past cure of the fives, stark spoiled with the       50
    staggers, begnawn with the bots, swayed in the back and
    shoulder-shotten; near-legged before and with a half-checked
    bit and a head-stall of sheep's leather which, being
    restrained to keep him from stumbling, hath been often
    burst and now repaired with knots; one girth six times            55
    pieced and a woman's crupper of velure, which hath two
    letters for her name fairly set down in studs, and here and
    there pieced with packthread.

    _Bap._ Who comes with him?

    _Bion._ O, sir, his lackey, for all the world caparisoned         60
    like the horse; with a linen stock on one leg, and a kersey
    boot-hose on the other, gartered with a red and blue list;
    an old hat, and 'the humour of forty fancies' pricked in't
    for a feather: a monster, a very monster in apparel, and
    not like a Christian footboy or a gentleman's lackey.             65

    _Tra._ 'Tis some odd humour pricks him to this fashion;
    Yet oftentimes he goes but mean-apparell'd.

    _Bap._ I am glad he's come, howsoe'er he comes.

    _Bion._ Why, sir, he comes not.

    _Bap._ Didst thou not say he comes?                               70

    _Bion._ Who? that Petruchio came?

    _Bap._ Ay, that Petruchio came.

    _Bion._ No, sir; I say his horse comes, with him on his
    back.

    _Bap._ Why, that's all one.                                       75

    _Bion._
    Nay, by Saint Jamy,
    I hold you a penny,
    A horse and a man
    Is more than one,
    And yet not many.                                                 80

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO _and_ GRUMIO.

    _Pet._ Come, where be these gallants? who's at home?

    _Bap._ You are welcome, sir.

    _Pet._                        And yet I come not well.

    _Bap._ And yet you halt not.

    _Tra._                        Not so well apparell'd
    As I wish you were.

    _Pet._ Were it better, I should rush in thus.                     85
    But where is Kate? where is my lovely bride?
    How does my father? Gentles, methinks you frown:
    And wherefore gaze this goodly company,
    As if they saw some wondrous monument,
    Some comet or unusual prodigy?                                    90

    _Bap._ Why, sir, you know this is your wedding-day:
    First were we sad, fearing you would not come;
    Now sadder, that you come so unprovided.
    Fie, doff this habit, shame to your estate,
    An eye-sore to our solemn festival!                               95

    _Tra._ And tell us, what occasion of import
    Hath all so long detain'd you from your wife,
    And sent you hither so unlike yourself?

    _Pet._ Tedious it were to tell, and harsh to hear:
    Sufficeth, I am come to keep my word,                            100
    Though in some part enforced to digress;
    Which, at more leisure, I will so excuse
    As you shall well be satisfied withal.
    But where is Kate? I stay too long from her:
    The morning wears, 'tis time we were at church.                  105

    _Tra._ See not your bride in these unreverent robes:
    Go to my chamber; put on clothes of mine.

    _Pet._ Not I, believe me: thus I'll visit her.

    _Bap._ But thus, I trust, you will not marry her.

    _Pet._ Good sooth, even thus; therefore ha' done with words:     110
    To me she's married, not unto my clothes:
    Could I repair what she will wear in me,
    As I can change these poor accoutrements,
    'Twere well for Kate and better for myself.
    But what a fool am I to chat with you,                           115
    When I should bid good morrow to my bride,
    And seal the title with a lovely kiss!
                                 [_Exeunt Petruchio and Gremio._

    _Tra._ He hath some meaning in his mad attire:
    We will persuade him, be it possible,
    To put on better ere he go to church.                            120

    _Bap._ I'll after him, and see the event of this.
                     [_Exeunt Baptista, Gremio, and attendants._

    _Tra._ But to her love concerneth us to add
    Her father's liking: which to bring to pass,
    As I before imparted to your worship,
    I am to get a man,--whate'er he be,                              125
    It skills not much, we'll fit him to our turn,--
    And he shall be Vincentio of Pisa;
    And make assurance here in Padua
    Of greater sums than I have promised.
    So shall you quietly enjoy your hope,                            130
    And marry sweet Bianca with consent.

    _Luc._ Were it not that my fellow-schoolmaster
    Doth watch Bianca's steps so narrowly,
    'Twere good, methinks, to steal our marriage;
    Which once perform'd, let all the world say no,                  135
    I'll keep mine own, despite of all the world.

    _Tra._ That by degrees we mean to look into,
    And watch our vantage in this business:
    We'll over-reach the greybeard, Gremio,
    The narrow-prying father, Minola,                                140
    The quaint musician, amorous Licio;
    All for my master's sake, Lucentio.

_Re-enter_ GREMIO.

    Signior Gremio, came you from the church?

    _Gre._ As willingly as e'er I came from school.

    _Tra._ And is the bride and bridegroom coming home?              145

    _Gre._ A bridegroom say you? 'tis a groom indeed,
    A grumbling groom, and that the girl shall find.

    _Tra._ Curster than she? why, 'tis impossible.

    _Gre._ Why, he's a devil, a devil, a very fiend.

    _Tra._ Why, she's a devil, a devil, the devil's dam.             150

    _Gre._ Tut, she's a lamb, a dove, a fool to him!
    I'll tell you, Sir Lucentio: when the priest
    Should ask, if Katharine should be his wife,
    'Ay, by gogs-wouns,' quoth he; and swore so loud,
    That, all amazed, the priest let fall the book;                  155
    And, as he stoop'd again to take it up,
    The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff,
    That down fell priest and book, and book and priest:
    'Now take them up,' quoth he, 'if any list.'

    _Tra._ What said the wench when he rose again?                   160

    _Gre._ Trembled and shook; for why he stamp'd and swore,
    As if the vicar meant to cozen him.
    But after many ceremonies done,
    He calls for wine: 'A health!' quoth he; as if
    He had been aboard, carousing to his mates                       165
    After a storm: quaff'd off the muscadel,
    And threw the sops all in the sexton's face;
    Having no other reason
    But that his beard grew thin and hungerly
    And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.                   170
    This done, he took the bride about the neck
    And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack
    That at the parting all the church did echo:
    And I seeing this came thence for very shame;
    And after me, I know, the rout is coming.                        175
    Such a mad marriage never was before:
    Hark, hark! I hear the minstrels play.             [_Music._

_Re-enter_ PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, BIANCA, BAPTISTA, HORTENSIO,
GRUMIO, _and Train_.

    _Pet._ Gentlemen and friends, I thank you for your pains:
    I know you think to dine with me to-day,
    And have prepared great store of wedding cheer;                  180
    But so it is, my haste doth call me hence,
    And therefore here I mean to take my leave.

    _Bap._ Is't possible you will away to-night?

    _Pet._ I must away to-day, before night come:
    Make it no wonder; if you knew my business,                      185
    You would entreat me rather go than stay.
    And, honest company, I thank you all,
    That have beheld me give away myself
    To this most patient, sweet, and virtuous wife:
    Dine with my father, drink a health to me;                       190
    For I must hence; and farewell to you all.

    _Tra._ Let us entreat you stay till after dinner.

    _Pet._ It may not be.

    _Gru._                Let me entreat you.

    _Pet._ It cannot be.

    _Kath._              Let me entreat you.

    _Pet._ I am content.

    _Kath._              Are you content to stay?                    195

    _Pet._ I am content you shall entreat me stay;
    But yet not stay, entreat me how you can.

    _Kath._ Now, if you love me, stay.

    _Pet._                             Grumio, my horse.

    _Gru._ Ay, sir, they be ready: the oats have eaten the
    horses.                                                          200

    _Kath._ Nay, then,
    Do what thou canst, I will not go to-day;
    No, nor to-morrow, not till I please myself.
    The door is open, sir; there lies your way;
    You may be jogging whiles your boots are green;                  205
    For me, I'll not be gone till I please myself:
    'Tis like you'll prove a jolly surly groom,
    That take it on you at the first so roundly.

    _Pet._ O Kate, content thee; prithee, be not angry.

    _Kath._ I will be angry: what hast thou to do?                   210
    Father, be quiet: he shall stay my leisure.

    _Gre._ Ay, marry, sir, now it begins to work.

    _Kath._ Gentlemen, forward to the bridal dinner:
    I see a woman may be made a fool,
    If she had not a spirit to resist.                               215

    _Pet._ They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
    Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
    Go to the feast, revel and domineer,
    Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,
    Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves:                         220
    But for my bonny Kate, she must with me.
    Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
    I will be master of what is mine own:
    She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,
    My household stuff, my field, my barn,                           225
    My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;
    And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
    I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
    That stops my way in Padua. Grumio,
    Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves;                230
    Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
    Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate:
    I'll buckler thee against a million.
                     [_Exeunt Petruchio, Katharina, and Grumio._

    _Bap._ Nay, let them go, a couple of quiet ones.

    _Gre._ Went they not quickly, I should die with laughing.        235

    _Tra._ Of all mad matches never was the like.

    _Luc._ Mistress, what's your opinion of your sister?

    _Bian._ That, being mad herself, she's madly mated.

    _Gre._ I warrant him, Petruchio is Kated.

    _Bap._ Neighbours and friends, though bride and bridegroom wants 240
    For to supply the places at the table,
    You know there wants no junkets at the feast.
    Lucentio, you shall supply the bridegroom's place;
    And let Bianca take her sister's room.

    _Tra._ Shall sweet Bianca practise how to bride it?              245

    _Bap._ She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] Pope. ACT III. SCENE I. Capell.

  Before B.'s house.] Malone. Court before the house. Capell.

  Lucentio] Rowe. om. Ff Q.

  attendants.] attendants; Lucentio, and Hortensio among them. Capell.

  [1] Bap.] Bap. [to Tra.] Capell.

  _'pointed_] Pope. _pointed_ Ff Q.

  [14] _man_.] Rowe. _man;_ F1 Q F2 F3. _man:_ F4.

  [15] _'point_] Pope. _point_ Ff Q.

  [16] _Make friends, invite_,] F1 Q. _Make friends, invite_, _yes_ F2
  F3 F4. _Make friends, invite them_ Malone. _Make friends invite_,
  _yes_ Singer. _Make_ _friends invited_ Grant White. _Make_ _friends
  invite guests_ Dyce conj. _Make_ _feasts_, _invite friends_ Anon.
  conj.

  _banns_] Johnson. _banes_ Ff Q.

  [18] _Katharine_] _Katharina_ Rowe.

  [24] _know_] Ff. _knew_ Q.

  [26] _him_] om. Q.

  [Exit ... others.] Exit weeping. Ff Q. Exit weeping: is follow'd by
  Bianca, Gremio, Hortensio, and Others. Capell.

  [28] _a very saint_] F1 Q. _a saint_ F2 F3 F4.

  [29] _thy_] F2 F3 F4. om. F1 Q.

  Enter B.] Enter B., hastily. Capell.

  [30. SCENE III. Pope.

  _news_, _old news_, _and such news_] Capell. _news_, _and such news_
  Ff Q. _old news_, _and such news_ Rowe. _news_, _and such old news_
  Collier (Collier MS.).

  [33] _hear_] _heard_ F1. _heare_ Q.

  [40] _what to_] _what be_ Capell. _what:--to_ Malone. _what is_
  Collier MS.

  _thine_] F1 Q F2. _thy_ F3 F4.

  [41] _a new_] _an old_ Anon. conj.

  [43, 45] _laced; an_ ... _points_] _laced_ _with two broken points;
  an_ ... _chapeless_ Rann (Johnson conj.).

  [45-47] _his horse_ ... _kindred;_] _with_ _an old mothy saddle_, _the
  stirrups of no_ _kindred: his horse hip'd_, Rann.

  [46] _hipped_] _hip'd_ Ff Q. _heaped_ Collier MS.

  _and_] F1 Q. _the_ F2 F3 F4. _with_ _the_ Hanmer (ed. 2).

  [48] _mose_] _mourn_ Hanmer.

  [49] _fashions_] _farcin_ Hanmer. _farcy_ Long conj. MS.

  [50] _fives_] _vives_ Hanmer.

  [51] _swayed_] Hanmer. _waid_ Ff Q.

  [52] _near-legged_] _neere leg'd_ F1 Q F2. _neer leg'd_ F3 F4. _ne'er
  legg'd_ Malone.

  [55] _now repaired_] _new-repaired_ S. Walker conj.

  _girth_] _girt_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [57] _down_] _dower_ F2.

  [63] _the humour of_] _the amours or_ Collier MS. See note (XIV).

  _pricked_] _prickt up_ F3 F4.

  [65] _or a_] F1 Q. _or_ F3 F4.

  [66] _odd_] _old_ Q.

  [66, 67] _'Tis_ ... _apparell'd_ Printed as prose in Q.

  [68] _he's come_] _he is come_ Johnson. _he's come though_ Capell.

  _howsoe'er_] _howsoere_ F1 Q. _howsoever_ F2 F3 F4.

  [71] _that Petruchio_] _that that Petruchio_ F3 F4.

  _came_] _came not_ Warburton.

  [73] _say_] _say_, _that_ Capell.

  [76-80] _Nay_ ... _many_.] Printed as prose in Ff Q; as five lines of
  verse by Collier; as two lines by Rowe (ed. 2).

  [81] SCENE IV. Pope.

  Enter P. and G.] Enter P. and G. fantastically habited. Rowe.

  _Come_] _Come_, _come_ S. Walker conj.

  _gallants?_] _gallants here?_ Capell.

  _who's_] _who is_ Pope.

  [81-84] _Come_ ... _were_] Verse as in Capell. Printed as prose in Ff
  Q. See note (XV).

  [81, 83, 85] _Come_ ... _Not so well_ ... _Were it_ ... _thus_.]
  _Come_, _come_ ... _Nor so_ ... _Were it not_ ... _thus?_ Lettsom
  conj., ending lines 83, 84 at _halt not_ ... _were_.

  [82] _you are_] _you're_ Pope.

  [82, 83] _sir_. Pet. _And yet I come_ _not well_. Bap. _And yet you
  halt not_] _sir: and yet you come not well_. Pet. _And yet I halt not_
  Capell conj.

  [83] _apparell'd_] _'parell'd_ Pope, reading as one verse _Not_ ...
  _were_.

  [84] _wish_] _could wish_ Capell.

  [85] _Were_] _Why_, _were_ Hanmer. _Tut! were_ Capell. _Wer't_ S.
  Walker conj.

  _better_] _much better_ Collier MS.

  _thus_.] _thus?_ Rann.

  [86] _is my_] _is is my_ Q.

  [95] _An_] _And_ Anon. conj.

  [103] _withal_] _with all_ F1 F2.

  [110] _ha'_] F4. _ha_ F1 Q F2 F3. _have_ Capell.

  [113] _can_] F1 Q F2. _could_ F3 F4.

  [117] _lovely_] _loving_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [Exeunt P. and G.] Dyce. [Exit. Ff Q. [Exeunt Pet. Gru. and Bio.
  Capell.

  [121] [Exeunt B., G., and attendants.] Exit. Ff Q. [Exeunt Bap. and
  Attendants. Tranio follows; but is beckon'd back by Lucentio, who
  converses a while apart. Capell.

  [122] SCENE V. Pope.

  _But to her love_] Grant White. _But sir_, _Love_ Ff Q. _But_, _sir_,
  _our_ _love_ Pope. _But to her love_, _sir_ Capell. _But_, _sir_, _her
  love_ Rann (Ritson conj.). _But_, _sir_, _to her love_ Malone
  (Tyrwhitt conj.). _But to our love_ Collier MS. _But_, _sir_, _to
  love_ Knight.

  [124] _I before_] Pope. _before_ F1 Q. _before I_ F2 F3 F4.

  [126] _our turn_] _turn_ Capell (corrected in MS).

  [140] _narrow-prying_] Pope. _narrow_ _prying_ Ff Q.

  [143] SCENE VI. Pope.

  Re-enter Gremio] Re-enter G. laughing. Capell.

  _Signior_] _Now_, _signior_ Pope.

  [145] _is_] _are_ Hanmer.

  [147] _grumbling_] _grumlling_ F1. _grumling_ Q.

  [148] _she?_] F4. _she_ F1 Q F2 F3.

  [153] _Should ask_] _Did ask_ Hanmer.

  [160] _wench_] _wretch_ Capell conj.

  _rose_] F1 Q. _rose up_ F2 F3 F4. _arose_ Reed (1803).

  [161-177] _Trembled_ ... _play_] Arranged as in Reed (1803). Printed
  as prose in F1 Q; as verse first in F2, making 16 lines, ending
  _swore_ ... _him_ ... _done_ ... _if_ ... _mates_ ... _muscadell_ ...
  _face_ ... _beard_ ... _aske_ ... _tooke_ ... _lips_ ... _parting_ ...
  _this_ ... _me_ ... _marryage_ ... _play_.

  [164-168] _He calls_ ... _reason_] Printed by Capell as five lines,
  ending _wine_ ... _aboard_ ... _storm_ ... _sops_ ... _reason_.

  [164] _if_] om. Capell.

  [165] _He had_] _H'ad_ Pope.

  [168] _reason_] _cause_ Pope.

  [170] _him_] _His_ F3 F4.

  [173] _all_] om. Long conj. MS.

  _did echo_] _echo'd_ Pope.

  [174] _And I_] _I_ Capell.

  [175] _I know_] om. Hanmer.

  [176] _never_] _Ne'er_ Theobald.

  [177] _I hear_] om. Hanmer.

  _play_] om. Theobald.

  [178] SCENE VII. Pope.

  Petruchio, Katharina....] P. and C. as marry'd.... Capell.

  Grumio, and Train.] Capell.

  [183] _will_] _must_ Hanmer.

  [193] _you_] _you_, _sir_ Hanmer. _you_ _stay_ Steevens conj.

  [194] _you,_] _you_, _sir_ Hanmer. _you_ _then_ Capell. _you stay_
  Steevens conj.

  [198] _horse_] _horses_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [199] _Ay_, _sir_] _Sir_ Hanmer.

  _oats_] _bots_ Grey conj.

  _eaten_] _eaten up_ Capell.

  [203] _not till_] F1 Q F2 F3. _nor till_ F4.

  [205] _whiles_] _while_ Pope.

  [206] _be gone_] _go_ Hanmer.

  _till I_] _till_ Capell.

  [214] _made_] _maide_ Q.

  [220] _yourselves_] _you selves_ F2.

  [224] _she is my house_] _and my house_ Hanmer. _and she is My house_
  Mitforl conj.

  [225] _My_] _She is my_ Hanmer.

  _my barn_] _my barn_, _my stable_ Capell. _my barn_, _my grange_ S.
  Walker conj. _my barn_, _my garner_ Edd. conj.

  [228] _mine_] _my_ Rowe.

  [230] _we are_] _we're_ Pope.

  [233] [Exeunt P. K. and G.] Exeunt P. Ka. Ff Q. [Exit, hurrying
  Catherine out; Grumio, with his sword drawn, bringing up the rear.
  Capell.

  [237] Luc. _Mistress_ ... _sister?_] Continued to Tranio by Capell.

  [240] _wants_] _want_ Pope.

  [242] _wants_] _want_ Grant White.

  [243] _shall supply_] _supply_ Pope. _shall have_ Rann (Capell
  conj.).

  [246] _Come_] om. Pope. See note (XVI).




ACT IV.

SCENE I. PETRUCHIO'S _country house_.


_Enter_ GRUMIO.

    _Gru._ Fie, fie on all tired jades, on all mad masters,
    and all foul ways! Was ever man so beaten? was ever
    man so rayed? was ever man so weary? I am sent before
    to make a fire, and they are coming after to warm them.
    Now, were not I a little pot, and soon hot, my very lips           5
    might freeze to my teeth, my tongue to the roof of my
    mouth, my heart in my belly, ere I should come by a fire
    to thaw me: but I, with blowing the fire, shall warm myself;
    for, considering the weather, a taller man than I will
    take cold. Holla, ho! Curtis!                                     10

_Enter_ CURTIS.

    _Curt._ Who is that calls so coldly?

    _Gru._ A piece of ice: if thou doubt it, thou mayst slide
    from my shoulder to my heel with no greater a run but my
    head and my neck. A fire, good Curtis.

    _Curt._ Is my master and his wife coming, Grumio?                 15

    _Gru._ O, ay, Curtis, ay: and therefore fire, fire; cast on
    no water.

    _Curt._ Is she so hot a shrew as she's reported?

    _Gru._ She was, good Curtis, before this frost: but, thou
    knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast; for it hath          20
    tamed my old master, and my new mistress, and myself,
    fellow Curtis.

    _Curt._ Away, you three-inch fool! I am no beast.

    _Gru._ Am I but three inches? why, thy horn is a foot;
    and so long am I at the least. But wilt thou make a fire,         25
    or shall I complain on thee to our mistress, whose hand,
    she being now at hand, thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold
    comfort, for being slow in thy hot office?

    _Curt._ I prithee, good Grumio, tell me, how goes the world?      30

    _Gru._ A cold world, Curtis, in every office but thine;
    and therefore fire: do thy duty, and have thy duty; for
    my master and mistress are almost frozen to death.

    _Curt._ There's fire ready; and therefore, good Grumio,
    the news.                                                         35

    _Gru._ Why, 'Jack, boy! ho! boy!' and as much news
    as thou wilt.

    _Curt._ Come, you are so full of cony-catching!

    _Gru._ Why, therefore fire; for I have caught extreme
    cold. Where's the cook? is supper ready, the house trimmed,       40
    rushes strewed, cobwebs swept; the serving-men in
    their new fustian, their white stockings, and every officer
    his wedding-garment on? Be the jacks fair within, the jills
    fair without, the carpets laid, and every thing in order?

    _Curt._ All ready; and therefore, I pray thee, news.              45

    _Gru._ First, know, my horse is tired; my master and
    mistress fallen out.

    _Curt._ How?

    _Gru._ Out of their saddles into the dirt; and thereby
    hangs a tale.                                                     50

    _Curt._ Let's ha't, good Grumio.

    _Gru._ Lend thine ear.

    _Curt._ Here.

    _Gru._ There.                                [_Strikes him._

    _Curt._ This is to feel a tale, not to hear a tale.               55

    _Gru._ And therefore 'tis called a sensible tale: and this
    cuff was but to knock at your ear, and beseech listening.
    Now I begin: _Imprimis_, we came down a foul hill, my master
    riding behind my mistress,--

    _Curt._ Both of one horse?                                        60

    _Gru._ What's that to thee?

    _Curt._ Why, a horse.

    _Gru._ Tell thou the tale: but hadst thou not crossed
    me, thou shouldst have heard how her horse fell and she
    under her horse; thou shouldst have heard in how miry a           65
    place, how she was bemoiled, how he left her with the horse
    upon her, how he beat me because her horse stumbled,
    how she waded through the dirt to pluck him off me, how
    he swore, how she prayed, that never prayed before, how I
    cried, how the horses ran away, how her bridle was burst,         70
    how I lost my crupper, with many things of worthy memory,
    which now shall die in oblivion and thou return unexperienced
    to thy grave.

    _Curt._ By this reckoning he is more shrew than she.

    _Gru._ Ay; and that thou and the proudest of you all              75
    shall find when he comes home. But what talk I of this?
    Call forth Nathaniel, Joseph, Nicholas, Philip, Walter, Sugarsop
    and the rest: let their heads be sleekly combed,
    their blue coats brushed and their garters of an indifferent
    knit: let them curtsy with their left legs and not presume        80
    to touch a hair of my master's horse-tail till they kiss their
    hands. Are they all ready?

    _Curt._ They are.

    _Gru._ Call them forth.

    _Curt._ Do you hear, ho? you must meet my master to               85
    countenance my mistress!

    _Gru._ Why, she hath a face of her own.

    _Curt._ Who knows not that?

    _Gru._ Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance
    her.                                                              90

    _Curt._ I call them forth to credit her.

    _Gru._ Why, she comes to borrow nothing of them.

    _Enter four or five_ serving-men.

    _Nath._ Welcome home, Grumio!

    _Phil._ How now, Grumio!

    _Jos._ What, Grumio!                                              95

    _Nich._ Fellow Grumio!

    _Nath._ How now, old lad?

    _Gru._ Welcome, you;--how now, you;--what, you;--fellow,
    you;--and thus much for greeting. Now, my spruce
    companions, is all ready, and all things neat?                   100

    _Nath._ All things is ready. How near is our master?

    _Gru._ E'en at hand, alighted by this; and therefore be
    not--Cock's passion, silence! I hear my master.

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO _and_ KATHARINA.

    _Pet._ Where be these knaves? What, no man at door
    To hold my stirrup nor to take my horse!                         105
    Where is Nathaniel, Gregory, Philip?

    _All Serv._ Here, here, sir; here, sir.

    _Pet._ Here, sir! here, sir! here, sir! here, sir!
    You logger-headed and unpolish'd grooms!
    What, no attendance? no regard? no duty?                         110
    Where is the foolish knave I sent before?

    _Gru._ Here, sir; as foolish as I was before.

    _Pet._ You peasant swain! you whoreson malt-horse drudge!
    Did I not bid thee meet me in the park,
    And bring along these rascal knaves with thee?                   115

    _Gru._ Nathaniel's coat, sir, was not fully made,
    And Gabriel's pumps were all unpink'd i' the heel;
    There was no link to colour Peter's hat,
    And Walter's dagger was not come from sheathing:
    There were none fine but Adam, Ralph, and Gregory;               120
    The rest were ragged, old, and beggarly;
    Yet, as they are, here are they come to meet you.

    _Pet._ Go, rascals, go, and fetch my supper in.
                                             [_Exeunt Servants._
            [_Singing_] Where is the life that late I led--

    Where are those--Sit down, Kate, and welcome.--                  125
    Soud, soud, soud, soud!

_Re-enter_ Servants _with supper_.

    Why, when, I say? Nay, good sweet Kate, be merry.
    Off with my boots, you rogues! you villains, when?
                                                       [_Sings._

    It was the friar of orders grey,
    As he forth walked on his way:--                                 130

    Out, you rogue! you pluck my foot awry:
    Take that, and mend the plucking off the other.
                                                 [_Strikes him._

    Be merry, Kate. Some water, here; what, ho!
    Where's my spaniel Troilus? Sirrah, get you hence,
    And bid my cousin Ferdinand come hither:       135
    One, Kate, that you must kiss, and be acquainted with.
    Where are my slippers? Shall I have some water?

_Enter one with water._

    Come, Kate, and wash, and welcome heartily.
    You whoreson villain! will you let it fall?
                                                 [_Strikes him._

    _Kath._ Patience, I pray you; 'twas a fault unwilling.           140

    _Pet._ A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave!
    Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach.
    Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I?
    What's this? mutton?

    _First Serv._        Ay.

    _Pet._                   Who brought it?

    _Peter._                          I.

    _Pet._ 'Tis burnt; and so is all the meat.                       145
    What dogs are these! Where is the rascal cook?
    How durst you, villains, bring it from the dresser,
    And serve it thus to me that love it not?
    There, take it to you, trenchers, cups, and all:
                        [_Throws the meat, &c. about the stage._
    You heedless joltheads and unmanner'd slaves!                    150
    What, do you grumble? I'll be with you straight.

    _Kath._ I pray you, husband, be not so disquiet:
    The meat was well, if you were so contented.

    _Pet._ I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away;
    And I expressly am forbid to touch it,                           155
    For it engenders choler, planteth anger;
    And better 'twere that both of us did fast,
    Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric,
    Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh.
    Be patient; to-morrow't shall be mended,                         160
    And, for this night, we'll fast for company:
    Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.    [_Exeunt._

_Re-enter_ Servants _severally_.

    _Nath._ Peter, didst ever see the like?

    _Peter._ He kills her in her own humour.

_Re-enter_ CURTIS.

    _Gru._ Where is he?                                              165

    _Curt._ In her chamber, making a sermon of continency to her;
    And rails, and swears, and rates, that she, poor soul,
    Knows not which way to stand, to look, to speak,
    And sits as one new-risen from a dream.                          170
    Away, away! for he is coming hither.              [_Exeunt._

_Re-enter_ PETRUCHIO.

    _Pet._ Thus have I politicly begun my reign,
    And 'tis my hope to end successfully.
    My falcon now is sharp and passing empty;
    And till she stoop she must not be full-gorged,                  175
    For then she never looks upon her lure.
    Another way I have to man my haggard,
    To make her come and know her keeper's call,
    That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites
    That bate and beat and will not be obedient.                     180
    She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat;
    Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not;
    As with the meat, some undeserved fault
    I'll find about the making of the bed;
    And here I'll fling the pillow, there the bolster,               185
    This way the coverlet, another way the sheets:
    Ay, and amid this hurly I intend
    That all is done in reverend care of her;
    And in conclusion she shall watch all night:
    And if she chance to nod I'll rail and brawl                     190
    And with the clamour keep her still awake.
    This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;
    And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.
    He that knows better how to tame a shrew,
    Now let him speak: 'tis charity to show.            [_Exit._     195


LINENOTES:

  ACT IV. SCENE I.] Pope.

  P.'s country house.] Pope. A hall in.... Capell.

  [2, 3] _Was_ ... _beaten? was_ ... _rayed?_ _was_ ... _weary?_] _was_
  ... _weary? was_ ... _beaten? was_ ... _raied?_ Hanmer.

  [3] _rayed_] _'wray'd_ Capell.

  [11] _is_] _is't_ Anon. conj.

  [16] _Curtis_] _Burtis_ Q.

  [19] _this_] _the_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [21] _myself_] _thyself_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [23] _three-inch_] _three-inch'd_ Rowe.

  [24] _thy_] _my_ Theobald.

  [34] _There's_] _There is_ Hanmer.

  [37] _thou wilt_] _wilt thou_ F1. _will_ _thaw_ Anon. conj.

  [42] _their_] F3 F4. _the_ F1 Q F2. _the--in_ _their_ S. Walker conj.,
  supposing an omission.

  [43, 44] _within_ ... _without_] _without_ ... _within_ Hanmer.

  [44] _the carpets_] _carpets_ F3 F4.

  [45] _news_] _what news_ F2 F3 F4. _thy_ _news_ Malone conj.

  [54] [Strikes him.] Rowe.

  [55] _is_] Rowe (ed. 2). _'tis_ Ff Q.

  [60] _of_] _on_ Rowe.

  [71] _of worthy_] _worthy of_ S. Walker conj.

  [73] _thy_] _the_ Q.

  [74] _is_] om. Q.

  [77] _Walter_, _Sugarsop_] _Walter Sugarsop_ S. Walker conj.

  _Sugarsop_] corrupt, Id. conj.

  [78] _sleekly_] _slickely_ F1 Q F2. _slickly_ F3 F4.

  [79] _indifferent_] _different_ Malone conj.

  [80] _knit_] _knot_ Capell.

  [89] _call_] Ff Q. _call'st Rowe_ (ed. 2).

  [92] Enter....] Ff Q (after line 90).

  [97] Nath.] Walt. Edd. conj.

  [101] _is ready_] F1 Q. _are ready_ F2 F3 F4.

  [104] SCENE II. Pope.

  [104-106] _Where_ ... _Philip_] Printed as prose in F3 F4.

  [104] _door_] _the door_ Capell.

  [106-108] _Where is_ ... _here_, _sir!_] Printed by Capell as two
  lines, ending the first at _Here_, _here_, _sir_.

  [110] _attendance_] _attendants_ Q.

  [113] _peasant_] _pleasant_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [115] _these_] F1 Q. _the_ F2 F3 F4.

  [122] _here are_] F1 Q. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [123] [Exeunt Servants] Ex. Ser. Ff Q. Exeunt some of the servants.
  Cloth lay'd. Capell.

  [124] [Singing.] Theobald. See note (XVII).

  _led--_] _led_, _say they:_-- Capell.

  [125] _those--_] _those villains?_ Capell.

  [126] _Soud_ ... _soud_] _Sù_ ... _sù_. A. A. (N. and Q.) conj.

  [Humming. Hanmer. [Wipes himself. Capell.

  [128] _rogues_] _rogue_ Hammer.

  [Sings.] Rowe.

  [131] _Out_] _Out_, _out_ Pope.

  [132] _mend_] _mind_ Hanmer.

  [Strikes him.] Rowe.

  [134] _my_] _by_ Hanmer (a misprint).

  [137] [Water presented. Capell.

  [Enter..] Ff Q (after line 133). om. Capell.

  [138] [Servant lets the ewer fall. Capell.

  [141] _flap-ear'd_] _flatear'd_ Rowe.

  [144] _What's_] _What is_ Hanmer.

  _Ay_] _Yes_ Rowe.

  Peter.] F1 Q. Ser F2 F3 F4.

  [145] _all the_] _all the rest o'the_ Capell.

  [149] [Throws....] Rowe.

  [160] _to-morrow_] _for to-morrow_ Pope.

  [162] [Exeunt] Ff Q. [Exit, leading out Cat. Cur. follows. Capell.

  [163-166] _Peter_ ... _chamber_] As two lines in Capell, ending _kills
  her_ ... _chamber_.

  [164] [Re-enter Curtis.] Enter Curtis a servant. Ff Q (after line
  165).

  [166-171] _In her_ ... _hither_] Pope. Printed as prose in Ff Q.

  [168] _swears_] _sweare_ F2.

  _that she_] _and she_ Rowe.

  [171] [Exeunt.] Pope. om. Ff Q.

  [172] SCENE III. Pope.

  [180] _bate_ ... _beat_] _baite_ ... _beate_ F1 Q F2. _bait_ ...
  _beat_ F3 F4.

  [182] _she shall_] _shall_ F3 F4.

  [186] _another_] _that_ Pope.

  [187] _I intend_] _I'll pretend_ Rowe (ed. 2).


SCENE II. _Padua_. _Before_ BAPTISTA'S _house_.

_Enter_ TRANIO _and_ HORTENSIO.

    _Tra._ Is't possible, friend Licio, that Mistress Bianca
    Doth fancy any other but Lucentio?
    I tell you, sir, she bears me fair in hand.

    _Hor._ Sir, to satisfy you in what I have said,
    Stand by and mark the manner of his teaching.                      5

_Enter_ BIANCA _and_ LUCENTIO.

    _Luc._ Now, mistress, profit you in what you read?

    _Bian._ What, master, read you? first resolve me that.

    _Luc._ I read that I profess, the Art to Love.

    _Bian._ And may you prove, sir, master of your art!

    _Luc._ While you, sweet dear, prove mistress of my heart!         10

    _Hor._ Quick proceeders, marry! Now, tell me, I pray,
    You that durst swear that your mistress Bianca
    Loved none in the world so well as Lucentio.

    _Tra._ O despiteful love! unconstant womankind!
    I tell thee, Licio, this is wonderful.                            15

    _Hor._ Mistake no more: I am not Licio,
    Nor a musician, as I seem to be;
    But one that scorn to live in this disguise,
    For such a one as leaves a gentleman,
    And makes a god of such a cullion:                                20
    Know, sir, that I am call'd Hortensio.

    _Tra._ Signior Hortensio, I have often heard
    Of your entire affection to Bianca;
    And since mine eyes are witness of her lightness,
    I will with you, if you be so contented,                          25
    Forswear Bianca and her love for ever.

    _Hor._ See, how they kiss and court! Signior Lucentio,
    Here is my hand, and here I firmly vow
    Never to woo her more, but do forswear her,
    As one unworthy all the former favours                            30
    That I have fondly flatter'd her withal.

    _Tra._ And here I take the like unfeigned oath,
    Never to marry with her though she would entreat:
    Fie on her! see, how beastly she doth court him!

    _Hor._ Would all the world but he had quite forsworn!             35
    For me, that I may surely keep mine oath,
    I will be married to a wealthy widow,
    Ere three days pass, which hath as long loved me
    As I have loved this proud disdainful haggard.
    And so farewell, Signior Lucentio.                                40
    Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks,
    Shall win my love: and so I take my leave,
    In resolution as I swore before.                    [_Exit._

    _Tra._ Mistress Bianca, bless you with such grace
    As 'longeth to a lover's blessed case!                            45
    Nay, I have ta'en you napping, gentle love,
    And have forsworn you with Hortensio.

    _Bian._ Tranio, you jest: but have you both forsworn me?

    _Tra._ Mistress, we have.

    _Luc._                    Then we are rid of Licio.

    _Tra._ I'faith, he'll have a lusty widow now,                     50
    That shall be woo'd and wedded in a day.

    _Bian._ God give him joy!

    _Tra._ Ay, and he'll tame her.

    _Bian._                        He says so, Tranio.

    _Tra._ Faith, he is gone unto the taming-school.

    _Bian._ The taming-school! what, is there such a place?           55

    _Tra._ Ay, mistress, and Petruchio is the master;
    That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long,
    To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue.

_Enter_ BIONDELLO.

    _Bion._ O master, master, I have watch'd so long
    That I am dog-weary! but at last I spied                          60
    An ancient angel coming down the hill,
    Will serve the turn.

    _Tra._               What is he, Biondello?

    _Bion._ Master, a mercatantè, or a pedant,
    I know not what; but formal in apparel,
    In gait and countenance surely like a father.                     65

    _Luc._ And what of him, Tranio?

    _Tra._ If he be credulous and trust my tale,
    I'll make him glad to seem Vincentio,
    And give assurance to Baptista Minola,
    As if he were the right Vincentio.                                70
    Take in your love, and then let me alone.
                                  [_Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca._

_Enter a_ Pedant.

    _Ped._ God save you, sir!

    _Tra._                    And you, sir! you are welcome.
    Travel you far on, or are you at the farthest?

    _Ped._ Sir, at the farthest for a week or two:
    But then up farther, and as far as Rome;                          75
    And so to Tripoli, if God lend me life.

    _Tra._ What countryman, I pray?

    _Ped._                          Of Mantua.

    _Tra._ Of Mantua, sir? marry, God forbid!
    And come to Padua, careless of your life?

    _Ped._ My life, sir! how, I pray? for that goes hard.             80

    _Tra._ 'Tis death for any one in Mantua
    To come to Padua. Know you not the cause?
    Your ships are stay'd at Venice; and the Duke,
    For private quarrel 'twixt your duke and him,
    Hath publish'd and proclaim'd it openly:                          85
    'Tis marvel, but that you are but newly come,
    You might have heard it else proclaim'd about.

    _Ped._ Alas, sir, it is worse for me than so!
    For I have bills for money by exchange
    From Florence, and must here deliver them.                        90

    _Tra._ Well, sir, to do you courtesy,
    This will I do, and this I will advise you:
    First, tell me, have you ever been at Pisa?

    _Ped._ Ay, sir, in Pisa have I often been;
    Pisa renowned for grave citizens.                                 95

    _Tra._ Among them know you one Vincentio?

    _Ped._ I know him not, but I have heard of him;
    A merchant of incomparable wealth.

    _Tra._ He is my father, sir; and, sooth to say,
    In countenance somewhat doth resemble you.                       100

    _Bion._ As much as an apple doth an oyster, and all one.
                                                       [_Aside._

    _Tra._ To save your life in this extremity,
    This favour will I do you for his sake;
    And think it not the worst of all your fortunes
    That you are like to Sir Vincentio.                              105
    His name and credit shall you undertake,
    And in my house you shall be friendly lodged:
    Look that you take upon you as you should;
    You understand me, sir: so shall you stay
    Till you have done your business in the city:                    110
    If this be courtesy, sir, accept of it.

    _Ped._ O sir, I do; and will repute you ever
    The patron of my life and liberty.

    _Tra._ Then go with me to make the matter good.
    This, by the way, I let you understand;                          115
    My father is here look'd for every day,
    To pass assurance of a dower in marriage
    'Twixt me and one Baptista's daughter here:
    In all these circumstances I'll instruct you:
    Go with me to clothe you as becomes you.          [_Exeunt._     120

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] Steevens. ACT V. SCENE I. Pope. SCENE IV.
  Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE I. Capell. See note (XVIII).

  Padua] Pope.

  Before B's house.] Theobald.

  Enter T. and H.] Ff Q. Enter Lucentio and Bianca courting; and, on the
  opposite side, Tranio and Hortensio. Capell.

  [1] _that_] om. S. Walker conj.

  _Mistress_] om. Pope.

  [4] Hor.] F2 F3 F4. Luc. F1 Q.

  _Sir_, _to satisfy you_] Ff Q. _To_ _satisfy you_, _sir_ Pope.
  _Signior_, _to_ _satisfy you_ Anon conj.

  _have_] om. Pope.

  [5] [They stand by. Theobald.

  ... and Lucentio] Rowe.

  [6, 8] Luc.] F2 F3 F4. Hor. F1 Q.

  [7] _What_, _master_, _read you? first_] Theobald. _What master read
  you_ _first_, Ff Q.

  [8] _to_] _of_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [10] [They retire backward. Theobald. [Court apart. Capell.

  [11] _Quick proceeders_, _marry_] _Marry_, _quick proceeders_ Capell.

  _Now_, _tell me_] _Tell me now_ Capell.

  [11-13] _Quick_ ... _Lucentio_] F1 Q F2. As prose in F3 F4.

  [12] _that your mistress_] _your mistress_ _fair_ Capell.

  [13] _none_] Rowe. _me_ Ff Q.

  _in the_] _i'the_ Capell.

  _as_] _as her_ Capell.

  [14] _O_] om. Capell.

  [29] _Never_ ... _forswear her_] om. Rowe.

  [31] _her_] F3 F4. _them_ F1 Q F2.

  [33] _Never_] _Ne'er_ Steevens.

  _with her_] _her_ Pope, _wi'her_ S. Walker conj.

  _she would_] _she_ Pope. _she'ld_ S. Walker conj.

  [35] _forsworn_] _forsworn her_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [36] _oath_,] Rowe. _oath_. Ff Q.

  [38. _hath_] _has_ F4.

  [42] _so_] om. F2. _thus_ Collier MS.

  [44] Tra.] Tra. [passing to the other side]. Capell.

  [45] _'longeth_] Hanmer. _longeth_ Ff Q.

  [53] _her_] _her too_ S. Walker conj.

  [54] _unto_] Ff Q. _into_ Warburton. _to_ Heath conj.

  [59] ACT V. SCENE II. Pope. SCENE V. Hanmer.

  Enter B.] Enter B. running. Theobald.

  [60] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [61] _ancient angel_] _angel-merchant_ Steevens conj.

  _angel_] _Angel_ F1 F3 F4. _Angell_ Q F2. _engle_ Theobald. _ayeul_
  Becket conj. _gentleman_ or _gentle_ Mitford conj. _morsel_ Staunton
  conj. _ambler_ Collier (Collier MS.), _antick_ Anon. conj. _uncle_
  Bubier conj.

  _coming_] _going_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [63] _mercatantè_, _or_] Capell. _marcantant_ _or_ Ff Q. _mercantant_,
  _or else_ Pope.

  [65] _surely_] F1 Q. _surly_ F2 F3 F4.

  [66. _And_] om. Capell.

  _Tranio_] om. S. Walker conj.

  [69] _give_] _give him_ Theobald.

  [71] _Take in_] Theobald. Par. _Take_ _me_ F1 Q. _Take me_, F2 F3 F4.
  _Partake_ or _Take on_ Anon. conj.

  _Take_ ... _and then_] _Partake your_ _love within_; Anon. conj.

  [Exeunt L. and B.] Rowe.

  [75] _and_] _e'en_ Theobald conj.

  [78] _sir? marry_] _sir?_ Pope. _sir_, _say you?_ Hanmer. _sir? marry
  now_ Capell.

  [81] _in_] _of_ Hanmer.

  [86] _you are_] _you're_ Pope.

  [91] _courtesy_] _courtesy herein_ Capell.

  [92] _I will_] _will I_ Pope.

  [100] _countenance_] _count'nance_ F1 Q F3 F4. _countnance_ F2.

  [101] [Aside.] Rowe.

  [105] _like to Sir_] _so like to_ Collier MS. _like_, _sir_, to
  Staunton conj.

  [110] _the city_] _this city_ Capell conj.

  [111] _courtesy_] _court'sie_ Ff Q.

  [117] _dower_] Warburton. _dowre_ Ff Q. _dowry_ Rowe.

  [120] _me_] F1 Q. _me_, _sir_ F2 F3 F4. See note (XIX).


SCENE III. _A room in_ PETRUCHIO'S _house_.

_Enter_ KATHARINA _and_ GRUMIO.

    _Gru._ No, no, forsooth; I dare not for my life.

    _Kath._ The more my wrong, the more his spite appears:
    What, did he marry me to famish me?
    Beggars, that come unto my father's door,
    Upon entreaty have a present alms;                                 5
    If not, elsewhere they meet with charity:
    But I, who never knew how to entreat,
    Nor never needed that I should entreat,
    Am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep;
    With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed:                    10
    And that which spites me more than all these wants,
    He does it under name of perfect love;
    As who should say, if I should sleep or eat,
    'Twere deadly sickness or else present death.
    I prithee go and get me some repast;                              15
    I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

    _Gru._ What say you to a neat's foot?

    _Kath._ 'Tis passing good: I prithee let me have it.

    _Gru._ I fear it is too choleric a meat.
    How say you to a fat tripe finely broil'd?                        20

    _Kath._ I like it well: good Grumio, fetch it me.

    _Gru._ I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric.
    What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?

    _Kath._ A dish that I do love to feed upon.

    _Gru._ Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.                   25

    _Kath._ Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.

    _Gru._ Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard,
    Or else you get no beef of Grumio.

    _Kath._ Then both, or one, or any thing thou wilt.

    _Gru._ Why then, the mustard without the beef.                    30

    _Kath._ Go, get thee gone, thou false deluding slave,
                                                   [_Beats him._
    That feed'st me with the very name of meat:
    Sorrow on thee and all the pack of you
    That triumph thus upon my misery!
    Go, get thee gone, I say.                                         35

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO _and_ HORTENSIO _with meat_.

    _Pet._ How fares my Kate? What, sweeting, all amort?

    _Hor._ Mistress, what cheer?

    _Kath._                      Faith, as cold as can be.

    _Pet._ Pluck up thy spirits; look cheerfully upon me.
    Here, love; thou see'st how diligent I am
    To dress thy meat myself and bring it thee:                       40
    I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.
    What, not a word? Nay, then thou lovest it not;
    And all my pains is sorted to no proof.
    Here, take away this dish.

    _Kath._                    I pray you, let it stand.

    _Pet._ The poorest service is repaid with thanks;                 45
    And so shall mine, before you touch the meat.

    _Kath._ I thank you, sir.

    _Hor._ Signior Petruchio, fie! you are to blame.
    Come, Mistress Kate, I'll bear you company.

    _Pet._ Eat it up all, Hortensio, if thou lovest me.
                                                       [_Aside._      50
    Much good do it unto thy gentle heart!
    Kate, eat apace: and now, my honey love,
    Will we return unto thy father's house,
    And revel it as bravely as the best,
    With silken coats and caps and golden rings,                      55
    With ruffs and cuffs and fardingales and things;
    With scarfs and fans and double change of bravery,
    With amber bracelets, beads and all this knavery.
    What, hast thou dined? The tailor stays thy leisure,
    To deck thy body with his ruffling treasure.                      60

_Enter_ Tailor.

    Come, tailor, let us see these ornaments;
    Lay forth the gown.

_Enter_ Haberdasher.

                        What news with you, sir?

    _Hab._ Here is the cap your worship did bespeak.

    _Pet._ Why, this was moulded on a porringer;
    A velvet dish: fie, fie! 'tis lewd and filthy:                    65
    Why, 'tis a cockle or a walnut-shell,
    A knack, a toy, a trick, a baby's cap:
    Away with it! come, let me have a bigger.

    _Kath._ I'll have no bigger: this doth fit the time
    And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.                          70

    _Pet._ When you are gentle, you shall have one too,
    And not till then.

    _Hor._             That will not be in haste.      [_Aside._

    _Kath._ Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak;
    And speak I will; I am no child, no babe:
    Your betters have endured me say my mind,                         75
    And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
    My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
    Or else my heart concealing it will break;
    And rather than it shall, I will be free
    Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.                     80

    _Pet._ Why, thou say'st true; it is a paltry cap,
    A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie:
    I love thee well, in that thou likest it not.

    _Kath._ Love me or love me not, I like the cap;
    And it I will have, or I will have none.                          85
                                            [_Exit Haberdasher._

    _Pet._ Thy gown? why, ay: come, tailor, let us see't.
    O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here?
    What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon:
    What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart?
    Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash,                  90
    Like to a censer in a barber's shop:
    Why, what, i' devil's name, tailor, call'st thou this?

    _Hor._ I see she's like to have neither cap nor gown.  [_Aside._

    _Tai._ You bid me make it orderly and well,
    According to the fashion and the time.                            95

    _Pet._ Marry, and did; but if you be remember'd,
    I did not bid you mar it to the time.
    Go, hop me over every kennel home,
    For you shall hop without my custom, sir:
    I'll none of it: hence! make your best of it.                    100

    _Kath._ I never saw a better-fashion'd gown,
    More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable:
    Belike you mean to make a puppet of me.

    _Pet._ Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee.

    _Tai._ She says your worship means to make a puppet of her.      105

    _Pet._ O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread, thou thimble,
    Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail!
    Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter-cricket thou!
    Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread?                 110
    Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
    Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard,
    As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou livest!
    I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.

    _Tai._ Your worship is deceived; the gown is made                115
    Just as my master had direction:
    Grumio gave order how it should be done.

    _Gru._ I gave him no order; I gave him the stuff.

    _Tai._ But how did you desire it should be made?

    _Gru._ Marry, sir, with needle and thread.                       120

    _Tai._ But did you not request to have it cut?

    _Gru._ Thou hast faced many things.

    _Tai._ I have.

    _Gru._ Face not me: thou hast braved many men; brave
    not me; I will neither be faced nor braved. I say unto           125
    thee, I bid thy master cut out the gown; but I did not bid
    him cut it to pieces: ergo, thou liest.

    _Tai._ Why, here is the note of the fashion to testify.

    _Pet._ Read it.

    _Gru._ The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.           130

    _Tai._ [_reads_] 'Imprimis, a loose-bodied gown:'

    _Gru._ Master, if ever I said loose-bodied gown, sew me
    in the skirts of it, and beat me to death with a bottom of
    brown thread: I said a gown.

    _Pet._ Proceed.                                                  135

    _Tai._ [_reads_] 'With a small compassed cape:'

    _Gru._ I confess the cape.

    _Tai._ [_reads_] 'With a trunk sleeve:'

    _Gru._ I confess two sleeves.

    _Tai._ [_reads_] 'The sleeves curiously cut.'                    140

    _Pet._ Ay, there's the villany.

    _Gru._ Error i' the bill, sir; error i' the bill. I commanded
    the sleeves should be cut out, and sewed up again;
    and that I'll prove upon thee, though thy little finger be
    armed in a thimble.                                              145

    _Tai._ This is true that I say: an I had thee in place
    where, thou shouldst know it.

    _Gru._ I am for thee straight: take thou the bill, give
    me thy mete-yard, and spare not me.

    _Hor._ God-a-mercy, Grumio! then he shall have no odds.          150

    _Pet._ Well, sir, in brief, the gown is not for me.

    _Gru._ You are i' the right, sir: 'tis for my mistress.

    _Pet._ Go, take it up unto thy master's use.

    _Gru._ Villain, not for thy life: take up my mistress'
    gown for thy master's use!                                       155

    _Pet._ Why, sir, what's your conceit in that?

    _Gru._ O, sir, the conceit is deeper than you think for:
    Take up my mistress' gown to his master's use!
    O, fie, fie, fie!

    _Pet._ Hortensio, say thou wilt see the tailor paid. [_Aside._   160

    Go take it hence; be gone, and say no more.

    _Hor._ Tailor, I'll pay thee for thy gown to-morrow:
    Take no unkindness of his hasty words:
    Away! I say; commend me to thy master.       [_Exit Tailor._

    _Pet._ Well, come, my Kate; we will unto your father's           165
    Even in these honest mean habiliments:
    Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor;
    For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich;
    And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,
    So honour peereth in the meanest habit.                          170
    What is the jay more precious than the lark,
    Because his feathers are more beautiful?
    Or is the adder better than the eel,
    Because his painted skin contents the eye?
    O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse                     175
    For this poor furniture and mean array.
    If thou account'st it shame, lay it on me;
    And therefore frolic: we will hence forthwith,
    To feast and sport us at thy father's house.
    Go, call my men, and let us straight to him;                     180
    And bring our horses unto Long-lane end;
    There will we mount, and thither walk on foot.
    Let's see; I think 'tis now some seven o'clock,
    And well we may come there by dinner-time.

    _Kath._ I dare assure you, sir, 'tis almost two;                 185
    And 'twill be supper-time ere you come there.

    _Pet._ It shall be seven ere I go to horse:
    Look, what I speak, or do, or think to do,
    You are still crossing it. Sirs, let't alone:
    I will not go to-day; and ere I do,                              190
    It shall be what o'clock I say it is.

    _Hor._ Why, so this gallant will command the sun.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] Steevens. Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima. Ff Q. ACT
  IV. SCENE IV. Pope. ACT V. SCENE I. Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE VI.
  Warburton. ACT IV. SCENE II. Capell.

  [8] _Nor_ ... _entreat_] omitted in Reed (1803, 1813), Boswell (1821),
  &c.

  [11] _wants_] _wrongs_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [19] _choleric_] F1 Q. _phlegmatic_ F2 F3 F4.

  [22] _'tis_] _it is_ Rowe. _it's_ Pope.

  [27] _Nay then_] _Nay_, _that_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [30] _without_] _e'en without_ Hanmer. _now without_ Capell.

  [36] SCENE V. Pope. SCENE VII. Warburton.

  [37] _Faith_] _I'faith_ Capell.

  [40] [Sets the dish on a table. Capell (after line 39).

  [41] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [43] _is_] _are_ Halliwell.

  [44] _this_] _the_ F3 F4.

  _I pray you_] _Pray_ Hanmer.

  [49] [Sits to table along with her. Capell.

  [50] _me_.] _me:_ Ff Q. _me_, Rowe.

  [Aside.] Theobald.

  [51] _Much_] _Now much_ Capell.

  [55, 56] _rings_ ... _things_] _things_ ... _rings_ Johnson conj.
  (withdrawn).

  [56] _fardingales_] F1 Q F2 F3. _fardingals_ F4.

  [59] _What_] F1 Q. _With_ F2 F3 F4.

  [60] _To_] _The_ F2.

  _ruffling_] _rustling_ Pope.

  [61] SCENE VI. Pope. ACT V. SCENE III. Hanmer. SCENE VIII. Warburton.

  [62] Enter....] Ff Q (after line 61).

  _sir?_] _sir? ha!_ Hanmer.

  [63] Hab.] Rowe. Fel. Ff Q.

  [72] [Aside.] Hanmer.

  [80] _uttermost_] _utmost_ Pope.

  [81] _a_] om. F1.

  [85] _it will have_] _I will have it_ Pope.

  [Exit Haberdasher] Edd.

  [87] _God_] _Heav'n_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [88] _What's this?_] F1 Q. _What_ _this?_ F2. _What? this_ F3 F4.

  _like a_] _like_ F1.

  [92] _i'_] Edd. _a_ Ff Q. _o'_ Capell.

  _tailor_] _trilor_ F4.

  [93] _to have_] _to've_ Pope.

  [Aside.] Theobald.

  [95] _and_] _of_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [96] _and did_] _I did_ Long conj. MS.

  [106, 107] As two lines in Ff Q, ending _arrogance:_ ... _thimble_. As
  one line in Capell. As two lines ending _liest_, ... _thimble_ Malone.
  As two ending _thread_ ... _thimble_ Knight.

  [106] _monstrous_] F1 Q. _most monstrous_ F2 F3 F4.

  _liest_] _list_ Anon conj.

  _thou thread_] om. Ritson conj.

  [107] _thimble_,] _thimble thou! thou_ _liest_, Hanmer.

  [108] _yard_,] F2 F3 F4. _yard_ F1 Q.

  [131, 136, 138, 140] [reads] Capell.

  [131] _Imprimis_] F3 F4. _Inprimis_ F1 Q F2.

  [132] _loose-bodied_] _loose body's_ Steevens conj. from (Q).

  _sew me_] _sow me up_ Pope.

  [146] _an_] Pope. _and_ Ff Q.

  [147] _where_, _thou shouldst_] Q F3 F4. _where thou shouldst_ F1.
  _where thou_ _should_ F2.

  [149] _not me_] _me not_ Hanmer.

  [150] Pet.] Kath. Daniel conj.

  [154, 158] _mistress'_] _mistress's_ Rowe.

  [158] _to_] _unto_ F3 F4.

  [160] [Aside.] Rowe.

  [164] [Exit Tailor.] Exit Tail. Ff Q. Exeunt Tailor and Haberdasher.
  Collier.

  [170] _peereth_] _'peareth_ Grant White (Capell conj.).

  [171] _What is_] Ff Q. _What; is_ Pope.

  [171, 172] _lark_, ... _beautiful?_] F2 F3 F4. _larke?_...
  _beautifull_. F1 Q.

  [175] _good_] om. Q.

  [177] _account'st_] Rowe. _accountedst_ F1 Q F2. _accounted'st_ F3
  F4.

  [182] _on foot_] _afoot_ Capell.

  [190] _and_] _or_, Capell.

  [192] _Why_, _so_] _Why so_ F1 Q. _Why_ _so:_ F2 F3 F4. _Why_, _so!_
  Capell. See note (XIX).


SCENE IV. _Padua_. _Before_ BAPTISTA'S _house_.

_Enter_ TRANIO, _and the_ Pedant _dressed like_ VINCENTIO.

    _Tra._ Sir, this is the house: please it you that I call?

    _Ped._ Ay, what else? and but I be deceived
    Signior Baptista may remember me,
    Near twenty years ago, in Genoa,
    Where we were lodgers at the Pegasus.                              5

    _Tra._ 'Tis well; and hold your own, in any case,
    With such austerity as 'longeth to a father.

    _Ped._ I warrant you.

_Enter_ BIONDELLO.

                          But, sir, here comes your boy;
    'Twere good he were school'd.

    _Tra._ Fear you not him. Sirrah Biondello,                        10
    Now do your duty throughly, I advise you:
    Imagine 'twere the right Vincentio.

    _Bion._ Tut, fear not me.

    _Tra._ But hast thou done thy errand to Baptista?

    _Bion._ I told him that your father was at Venice;                15
    And that you look'd for him this day in Padua.

    _Tra._ Thou'rt a tall fellow: hold thee that to drink.
    Here comes Baptista: set your countenance, sir.

  _Enter_ BAPTISTA _and_ LUCENTIO.

    Signior Baptista, you are happily met.
    [_To the Pedant_] Sir, this is the gentleman I told you of:       20
    I pray you, stand good father to me now,
    Give me Bianca for my patrimony.

    _Ped._ Soft, son!
    Sir, by your leave: having come to Padua
    To gather in some debts, my son Lucentio                          25
    Made me acquainted with a weighty cause
    Of love between your daughter and himself:
    And, for the good report I hear of you,
    And for the love he beareth to your daughter,
    And she to him, to stay him not too long,                         30
    I am content, in a good father's care,
    To have him match'd; and, if you please to like
    No worse than I, upon some agreement
    Me shall you find ready and willing
    With one consent to have her so bestow'd;                         35
    For curious I cannot be with you,
    Signior Baptista, of whom I hear so well.

    _Bap._ Sir, pardon me in what I have to say:
    Your plainness and your shortness please me well.
    Right true it is, your son Lucentio here                          40
    Doth love my daughter, and she loveth him,
    Or both dissemble deeply their affections:
    And therefore, if you say no more than this.
    That like a father you will deal with him,
    And pass my daughter a sufficient dower,                          45
    The match is made, and all is done:
    Your son shall have my daughter with consent.

    _Tra._ I thank you, sir. Where then do you know best
    We be affied and such assurance ta'en
    As shall with either part's agreement stand?                      50

    _Bap._ Not in my house, Lucentio; for, you know,
    Pitchers have ears, and I have many servants:
    Besides, old Gremio is hearkening still;
    And happily we might be interrupted.

    _Tra._ Then at my lodging, an it like you:                        55
    There doth my father lie; and there, this night,
    We'll pass the business privately and well.
    Send for your daughter by your servant here;
    My boy shall fetch the scrivener presently.
    The worst is this, that, at so slender warning,                   60
    You are like to have a thin and slender pittance.

    _Bap._ It likes me well. Cambio, his you home,
    And bid Bianca make her ready straight;
    And, if you will, tell what hath happened,
    Lucentio's father is arrived in Padua,                            65
    And how she's like to be Lucentio's wife.

    _Bion._ I pray the gods she may with all my heart!

    _Tra._ Dally not with the gods, but get thee gone.
                                                    [_Exit Bion_
    Signior Baptista, shall I lead the way?
    Welcome! one mess is like to be your cheer:                       70
    Come, sir; we will better it in Pisa.

    _Bap._ I follow you.
       [_Exeunt Tranio, Pedant, and Baptista._ _Re-enter_ BIONDELLO.

    _Bion._ Cambio.

    _Luc._ What sayest thou, Biondello?

    _Bion._ You saw my master wink and laugh upon you?                75

    _Luc._ Biondello, what of that?

    _Bion._ Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to
    expound the meaning or moral of his signs and tokens.

    _Luc._ I pray thee, moralize them.

    _Bion._ Then thus. Baptista is safe, talking with the             80
    deceiving father of a deceitful son.

    _Luc._ And what of him?

    _Bion._ His daughter is to be brought by you to the supper.

    _Luc._ And then?

    _Bion._ The old priest at Saint Luke's church is at your          85
    command at all hours.

    _Luc._ And what of all this?

    _Bion._ I cannot tell; expect they are busied about a
    counterfeit assurance: take you assurance of her, 'cum privilegio
    ad imprimendum solum:' to the church; take the                    90
    priest, clerk, and some sufficient honest witnesses:
    If this be not that you look for, I have no more to say,
    But bid Bianca farewell for ever and a day.

    _Luc._ Hearest thou, Biondello?

    _Bion._ I cannot tarry: I knew a wench married in an              95
    afternoon as she went to the garden for parsley to stuff a
    rabbit; and so may you, sir: and so, adieu, sir. My master
    hath appointed me to go to Saint Luke's, to bid the priest be
    ready to come against you come with your appendix.  [_Exit._

    _Luc._ I may, and will, if she be so contented:                  100
    She will be pleased; then wherefore should I doubt?
    Hap what hap may, I'll roundly go about her:
    It shall go hard if Cambio go without her.          [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] Steevens. ACT V. SCENE II. Pope (ed. 1). ACT V.
  SCENE III. Pope (ed. 2). ACT V. SCENE IV. Hanmer. SCENE IX. Warburton.
  SCENE III. Capell. ACT V. SCENE I. Johnson conj.

  Before B's house.] Capell.

  ... Pedant dressed....] Pedant, booted, and drest.... Capell.

  [1] _Sir_] Theobald. _Sirs_ Ff Q.

  [2] _Ay,_] _I_ Ff Q. _Ay_, _ay_, Hanmer. _Ay_, _sir;_ Capell.

  [4, 5] _Genoa_, _Where we_] _Genoa_, _where We_ Steevens. _Genoa When
  we_ Halliwell.

  [5, 6] _Where we_ ... Tra. _'Tis_] Theobald. Tra. _Where we_ ... _Tis_
  Ff Q. Tra. _Where you_ ... _Tis_ Capell.

  [7] _'longeth to a_] Hanmer. _longeth_ _to a_ FF Q. _'longs t' a_ S.
  Walker conj.

  [9] _good_] _good that_ Hanmer.

  [11] _Now_] om. Hanmer.

  _throughly_] _thoroughly_ Steevens.

  _I advise you_] om. Hanmer.

  [15] _at_] _in_ F3 F4.

  [17] _Thou'rt_] Capell. _Th'art_ F1 Q F2. _That's_ F3 F4.

  [19] SCENE III. Pope (ed. 1). SCENE IV. Pope (ed. 2). ACT V. SCENE V.
  Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE X. Warburton.

  Enter B. and L.] Enter B. and L.: Pedant booted and bare headed. Ff Q.
  (and Pedant F2 F3 F4.)

  [20] [To the Pedant] Capell.

  _Sir, this is_] _Sir, This is Capell._ _Sir, this 's_ Edd conj.

  [21] _stand good father to_] _stand, good father, to_ Rowe.

  [23, 24] As in Hanmer. As one line in Ff Q.

  [33] _I, upon_] F1. _I upon_ Q. _I sir upon_ F2 F3 F4.

  [34] _ready and willing_] F1 Q. _most ready and most willing_ F2 F3
  F4.

  [38] _to say_] _say_ Steevens (1778), a misprint.

  [45] _dower_] F1 Q F2. _dowre_ F3 F4. _dowry_ Rowe.

  [46] _made_] _fully made_ Hanmer.

  _done_] _done with me_ Capell. _happily done_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [48, 49.] _Where then do you ... We be_] _Then where you do
  ... Be we_ Becket conj.

  [48] _do you know_] _do you trow is_ Hanmer. _you do know_
  Johnson conj. _do you trow_ Rann (Johnson conj.). _do you hold_
  Collier (Collier MS.).

  [49] _We be_] _Be we_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [54] _And happily_] _And happilie_ F1 Q. _Ann haply_ F2.
  _And haply_ F3 F4. _And haply then_ Pope. _And hapily_ Capell. _And
  happely_ Grant White.

  _might_] Ff. _may_ Q.

  [55] _like you_] F1 Q. _like you, sir_ F2 F3 F4. _liketh
  you_] Anon conj.

  [61] _You are_] _You're_ Pope.

  [62, 63.] As in Steevens. As two lines ending _well: ...
  straight_ in Ff Q.

  [62] _Cambio_] _Go, Cambio_ Pope. _Biondello_ Edd. conj. See
  note (XX).

  [64] _And, if you will, tell_] Rowe. _And if you will tell_
  Ff Q.

  _happened_] Capell. _hapned_ Ff Q. _happen'd here_ Pope.

  [67] Bion.] F2 F3 F4. Biond. F1 Q. Luc. Rowe.

  [68] [Exit Bion.] Exit. Ff Q, after line 67. om. Capell. See
  note (xx).

  Enter Peter. Ff Q.

  [70] _Welcome_] F1 Q. _We come_ F2 F3 F4. See note (XXI).

  [70, 71.] _Welcome ... Come, sir; we will_] _Come, sir; one mess ...
  cheer; We'll_ Capell.

  [71] _Come_] _But come_ Hanmer.

  [72] Exeunt T. P. and B] Exeunt. Ff Q.

  Re-enter Biondello.] Edd. Enter Lucentio and Biondello. Ff Q.

  [73] ACT V. SCENE IV. Pope (ed. 1). SCENE V. Pope (ed. 2). ACT V.
  SCENE VI. Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE XI. Warburton.

  [75] _wink and laugh_] _laugh, and wink_ Capell conj.

  [77] _has_] _'has_ Rowe. _ha's_ Theobald. _h'as_ Hanmer. _he's_
  Johnson. _he has_ Steevens.

  [79] _them_] _then_ Anon conj.

  [84] _then?_] F2 F3 F4. _then._ F1 Q.

  [87] _this?_] F2 F3 F4. _this._ F1 Q.

  [88] _expect_] F1 Q. _except_ F2 F3 F4. _expect_, Warburton. _except,
  while_ Capell. _expect;--_ Malone. _except--_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [90] _imprimendum solum_] F2 F3 F4. _impremendum solem_ F1 Q.

  _church;_] Rann (Tyrwhitt conj.). _church_ Ff Q.

  [93] [Going. Capell.

  [101] _I doubt_] _we doubt_ Rowe. _I doubt her_ Pope.


SCENE V. _A public road._

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, HORTENSIO, _and_ Servants.

    _Pet._ Come on, i' God's name; once more toward our father's.
    Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!

    _Kath._ The moon! the sun: it is not moonlight now.

    _Pet._ I say it is the moon that shines so bright.

    _Kath._ I know it is the sun that shines so bright.                5

    _Pet._ Now, by my mother's son, and that's myself,
    It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
    Or ere I journey to your father's house.
    Go on, and fetch our horses back again.
    Evermore cross'd and cross'd; nothing but cross'd!                10

    _Hor._ Say as he says, or we shall never go.

    _Kath._ Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
    And be it moon, or sun, or what you please:
    An if you please to call it a rush-candle,
    Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.                           15

    _Pet._ I say it is the moon.

    _Kath._                      I know it is the moon.

    _Pet._ Nay, then you lie: it is the blessed sun.

    _Kath._ Then, God be bless'd, it is the blessed sun:
    But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
    And the moon changes even as your mind.                           20
    What you will have it named, even that it is;
    And so it shall be so for Katharine.

    _Hor._ Petruchio, go thy ways; the field is won.

    _Pet._ Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run,
    And not unluckily against the bias.                               25
    But, soft! company is coming here.

_Enter_ VINCENTIO.

    [_To Vincentio_] Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away?
    Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too,
    Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
    Such war of white and red within her cheeks!                      30
    What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty,
    As those two eyes become that heavenly face?
    Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.
    Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.

    _Hor._ A' will make the man mad, to make a woman of him.           35

    _Kath._ Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
    Whither away, or where is thy abode?
    Happy the parents of so fair a child;
    Happier the man, whom favourable stars
    Allot thee for his lovely bed-fellow!                             40

    _Pet._ Why, how now, Kate! I hope thou art not mad:
    This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, wither'd;
    And not a maiden, as thou say'st he is.

    _Kath._ Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
    That have been so bedazzled with the sun,                         45
    That every thing I look on seemeth green:
    Now I perceive thou art a reverend father;
    Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.

    _Pet._ Do, good old grandsire; and withal make known
    Which way thou travellest: if along with us,                      50
    We shall be joyful of thy company.

    _Vin._ Fair sir, and you my merry mistress,
    That with your strange encounter much amazed me,
    My name is call'd Vincentio; my dwelling Pisa;
    And bound I am to Padua; there to visit                           55
    A son of mine, which long I have not seen.

    _Pet._ What is his name?

    _Vin._                   Lucentio, gentle sir.

    _Pet._ Happily met; the happier for thy son.
    And now by law, as well as reverend age,
    I may entitle thee my loving father:                              60
    The sister to my wife, this gentlewoman,
    Thy son by this hath married. Wonder not,
    Nor be not grieved: she is of good esteem,
    Her dowry wealthy, and of worthy birth;
    Beside, so qualified as may beseem                                65
    The spouse of any noble gentleman.
    Let me embrace with old Vincentio,
    And wander we to see thy honest son,
    Who will of thy arrival be full joyous.

    _Vin._ But is this true? or is it else your pleasure,             70
    Like pleasant travellers, to break a jest
    Upon the company you overtake?

    _Hor._ I do assure thee, father, so it is.

    _Pet._ Come, go along, and see the truth hereof;
    For our first merriment hath made thee jealous.                   75
                                    [_Exeunt all but Hortensio._

    _Hor._ Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart.
    Have to my widow! and if she be froward,
    Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward.     [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] Steevens. ACT V. SCENE V. Pope (ed. 1). SCENE VI.
  Pope. (ed. 2). ACT V. SCENE VII. Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE XII. Warburton.
  ACT V. SCENE I. Capell.

  A public road.] Capell. The street before Lucentio's house. Pope. A
  green lane. Theobald. The road to Padua. Hanmer.

  ... and Servants.] Edd. om. Ff Q.

  [1] _i'_] Edd. _a_ Ff Q. _o'_ Theobald.

  _toward_] F1 F2 F3. _towards_ Q F4. _tow'rds_ Pope.

  [5] _shines_] _shine,_ Q1.

  [7] _I list_] _I I list_ F2.

  [9] _Go on_] _Go one_ Rann (Capell conj.).

  [13] _you_] _your_ F2.

  [14] _An_] Collier. _And_ Ff Q.

  [16] _I know it is the moon._] _I know it is._ Steevens.

  [18] _is_] _in_ F1.

  [22] _so it shall be so_] _so it shall be, sir,_ Capell. _so it shall
  be still_ Singer (Ritson conj.). _so it shall be 'sol'_ Becket conj.

  [24] _should_] _shall_ Harness.

  [26] _company_] _some company_ Pope. _what company_ Steevens (Ritson
  conj.).

  ACT V. SCENE VI. Pope. ACT V. SCENE VIII. Hanmer. ACT IV. SCENE XIII.
  Warburton.

  Enter V.] Enter V. journeying. Capell. Enter V. in a travelling dress.
  Malone.

  [27] [To Vincentio] Rowe.

  _where_] _whither_ Capell.

  [31, 32] _do ... such ... those two_] _so ... their ... do those_
  Seymour conj.

  [35] _A'_] _A_ Ff Q. _He_ Rowe.

  _a woman_] F2 F3 F4. _the woman_ F1 Q.

  [37] _Whither ... where_] F2 F3 F4. _Whether ... whether_ F1 Q.

  [39] _whom_] _whose_ Capell conj.

  [40] _Allot_] Pope. _A lots_ F1. _Alots_ Q F2 F3. _Allots_ F4.

  [44] _mistaking_] _mistaken_ Rowe.

  [49] _withal_] _withall_ Ff. _with all_ Q.

  [52] _mistress_] _mistress too_ Hanmer. _mistress here_ Capell.

  [54] _name is call'd Vincentio_] _name's Vincentio call'd_ Anon conj.

  _my dwelling_] _dwelling_ Hanmer.

  [66] _gentleman_] _gentlewoman_ Q.

  [67] _with_] _thee,_ Capell conj.

  [70] _is it else_] _else is it_ Anon. conj.

  [75] Exeunt...] Exeunt. Ff Q.

  [76] _Well, Petruchio,_] _Petruchio, well!_ Hanmer. _Well, sir
  Petruchio_ Capell. _Well done, Petruchio_ Anon conj.

  _has_] _hath_ Hanmer.

  [77] _be_] F2 F3 F4. om. F1 Q.

  [78] _to be_] _be_ Capell.




ACT V.

SCENE I. _Padua._ _Before_ LUCENTIO'S _house._


GREMIO _discovered._ _Enter behind_ BIONDELLO, LUCENTIO, _and_ BIANCA.

    _Bion._ Softly and swiftly, sir; for the priest is ready.

    _Luc._ I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need
    thee at home; therefore leave us.

    _Bion._ Nay, faith, I'll see the church o' your back; and
    then come back to my master's as soon as I can.                    5
                [_Exeunt Lucentio, Bianca, and Biondello._

    _Gre._ I marvel Cambio comes not all this while.

_Enter_ PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, VINCENTIO, GRUMIO, _with_ Attendants.

    _Pet._ Sir, here's the door, this is Lucentio's house:
    My father's bears more toward the market-place;
    Thither must I, and here I leave you, sir.

    _Vin._ You shall not choose but drink before you go:              10
    I think I shall command your welcome here,
    And, by all likelihood, some cheer is toward.     [_Knocks._

    _Gre._ They're busy within; you were best knock louder.

Pedant _looks out of the window_.

    _Ped._ What's he that knocks as he would beat down
    the gate?                                                         15

    _Vin._ Is Signior Lucentio within, sir?

    _Ped._ He's within, sir, but not to be spoken withal.

    _Vin._ What if a man bring him a hundred pound or
    two, to make merry withal?

    _Ped._ Keep your hundred pounds to yourself: he shall             20
    need none, so long as I live.

    _Pet._ Nay, I told you your son was well beloved in
    Padua. Do you hear, sir?--to leave frivolous circumstances,--I
    pray you, tell Signior Lucentio, that his father is
    come from Pisa, and is here at the door to speak with him.        25

    _Ped._ Thou liest: his father is come from Padua, and
    here looking out at the window.

    _Vin._ Art thou his father?

    _Ped._ Ay, sir; so his mother says, if I may believe her.

    _Pet._ [_To Vincentio_] Why, how now, gentleman! why,             30
    this is flat knavery, to take upon you another man's name.

    _Ped._ Lay hands on the villain: I believe a' means to
    cozen somebody in this city under my countenance.

_Re-enter_ BIONDELLO.

    _Bion._ I have seen them in the church together: God
    send 'em good shipping! But who is here? mine old                 35
    master Vincentio! now we are undone, and brought to
    nothing.

    _Vin._ [_Seeing Biondello_] Come hither, crack-hemp.

    _Bion._ I hope I may choose, sir.

    _Vin._ Come hither, you rogue. What, have you forgot              40
    me?

    _Bion._ Forgot you! no, sir: I could not forget you, for
    l never saw you before in all my life.

    _Vin._ What, you notorious villain, didst thou never see
    thy master's father, Vincentio?                                   45

    _Bion._ What, my old worshipful old master? yes, marry,
    sir: see where he looks out of the window.

    _Vin._ Is't so, indeed?                  [_Beats Biondello._

    _Bion._ Help, help, help! here's a madman will murder me.         50
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Ped._ Help, son! help, Signior Baptista!
                                             [_Exit from above._

    _Pet._ Prithee, Kate, let's stand aside, and see the end of this
    controversy.                                 [_They retire._

_Re-enter_ Pedant _below_; TRANIO, BAPTISTA, _and_ Servants.

    _Tra._ Sir, what are you, that offer to beat my servant?

    _Vin._ What am I, sir! nay, what are you, sir? O immortal         55
    gods! O fine villain! A silken doublet! a velvet
    hose! a scarlet cloak! and a copatain hat! O, I am undone!
    I am undone! while I play the good husband at
    home, my son and my servant spend all at the university.

    _Tra._ How now! what's the matter?                                60

    _Bap._ What, is the man lunatic?

    _Tra._ Sir, you seem a sober ancient gentleman by your
    habit, but your words show you a madman. Why, sir,
    what 'cerns it you if I wear pearl and gold? I thank my
    good father, I am able to maintain it.                            65

    _Vin._ Thy father! O villain! he is a sail-maker in Bergamo.

    _Bap._ You mistake, sir, you mistake, sir. Pray, what
    do you think is his name?

    _Vin._ His name! as if I knew not his name: I have                70
    brought him up ever since he was three years old, and his
    name is Tranio.

    _Ped._ Away, away, mad ass! his name is Lucentio;
    and he is mine only son, and heir to the lands of me, Signior
    Vincentio.                                                        75

    _Vin._ Lucentio! O, he hath murdered his master!
    Lay hold on him, I charge you, in the Duke's name. O,
    my son, my son! Tell me, thou villain, where is my son
    Lucentio?

    _Tra._ Call forth an officer.                                     80

_Enter one with an_ Officer.

    Carry this mad knave to the gaol. Father Baptista, I
    charge you see that he be forthcoming.

    _Vin._ Carry me to the gaol!

    _Gre._ Stay, officer: he shall not go to prison.

    _Bap._ Talk not, Signior Gremio: I say he shall go to             85
    prison.

    _Gre._ Take heed, Signior Baptista, lest you be cony-catched
    in this business: I dare swear this is the right Vincentio.

    _Ped._ Swear, if thou darest.                                     90

    _Gre._ Nay, I dare not swear it.

    _Tra._ Then thou wert best say that I am not Lucentio.

    _Gre._ Yes, I know thee to be Signior Lucentio.

    _Bap._ Away with the dotard! to the gaol with him!

    _Vin._ Thus strangers may be haled and abused:                    95
    O monstrous villain!

_Re-enter_ BIONDELLO, _with_ LUCENTIO _and_ BIANCA.

    _Bion._ O, we are spoiled! and--yonder he is: deny him,
    forswear him, or else we are all undone.

    _Luc._ Pardon, sweet father.                     [_Kneeling._

    _Vin._                       Lives my sweet son?
     [_Exeunt Biondello, Tranio, and Pedant, as fast as may be._

    _Bian._ Pardon, dear father.

    _Bap._                       How hast thou offended?             100
    Where is Lucentio?

    _Luc._             Here's Lucentio,
    Right son to the right Vincentio;
    That have by marriage made thy daughter mine,
    While counterfeit supposes blear'd thine eyne.

    _Gre._ Here's packing, with a witness, to deceive us all!        105

    _Vin._ Where is that damned villain Tranio,
    That faced and braved me in this matter so?

    _Bap._ Why, tell me, is not this my Cambio?

    _Bian._ Cambio is changed into Lucentio.

    _Luc._ Love wrought these miracles. Bianca's love                110
    Made me exchange my state with Tranio,
    While he did bear my countenance in the town
    And happily I have arrived at the last
    Unto the wished haven of my bliss.
    What Tranio did, myself enforced him to;                         115
    Then pardon him, sweet father, for my sake.

    _Vin._ I'll slit the villain's nose, that would have sent
    me to the gaol.

    _Bap._ But do you hear, sir? have you married my
    daughter without asking my good will?                            120

    _Vin._ Fear not, Baptista; we will content you, go to:
    but I will in, to be revenged for this villany.     [_Exit._

    _Bap._ And I, to sound the depth of this knavery.   [_Exit._

    _Luc._ Look not pale, Bianca; thy father will not frown.
                                  [_Exeunt Lucentio and Bianca._

    _Gre._ My cake is dough: but I'll in among the rest;             125
    Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast.      [_Exit._

    _Kath._ Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado.

    _Pet._ First kiss me, Kate, and we will.

    _Kath._ What, in the midst of the street?

    _Pet._ What, art thou ashamed of me?                             130

    _Kath._ No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss.

    _Pet._ Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away.

    _Kath._ Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay.

    _Pet._ Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:
    Better once than never, for never too late.       [_Exeunt._     135

LINENOTES:

  [ACT V. Theobald. SCENE I.] Warburton. ACT V. SCENE VII.
  Pope. ACT V. SCENE IX. Hanmer. ACT V. SCENE II. Capell.

  Before L's house] Pope. Before Tranio's house. Capell.

  Gremio....] Edd. Enter Bion. Luc. and Bianca, Gremio is out before. Ff
  Q. Enter B. L. and B., Gremio walking on one side. Rowe. Enter Bion.
  with Luc. and Bian., hastily; Gremio is seen ent'ring, behind.
  Capell.]

  [4] _o'_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a_ Ff Q.

  [5] _master's_] Capell. _mistris_ Ff Q. _master_ Theobald. _business_
  Hanmer.

  Exeunt ...] Rowe. Exit. Ff Q (after line 3).

  [8] _toward_] _towards_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [13] [Knocks.] Knock. Ff Q. Noise within. Knocks. Capell.

  [21] _so_] F1 Q F2. _as_ F3 F4.

  [22] _well_] om. Q.

  [26] _from Padua_] Ff Q. _to Padua_ Pope. _from--Mantua_ [aside]
  Capell. _from Pisa_ Malone (Tyrwhitt conj.). See note (XXII).

  [27] _out at_] _out of_ Q.

  [30] [To Vincentio] Capell.

  [32] _a'_] _a_ F1 Q F2. _he_ F3 F4.

  [34] SCENE VIII. Pope. SCENE X. Hanmer. SCENE II. Warburton.

  [35] [drawing backward. Capell.

  [36] _brought_] _brough_ F1.

  [37] [Seeing Biondello.] Rowe.

  [45] _master's_] F2 F3 F4. _mistris_ F1 Q.

  [46] _my old worshipful_] _my worshipfull_ Q.

  [48] [Beats B.] He beates B. Ff Q.

  [50] [Exit.] Exit, crying out. Capell om. Ff Q.

  [51] [Exit....] Capell. om. Ff Q.

  [53] [They retire.] Theobald.

  Re-enter....] Capell. Enter Pedant with servants, Baptista, Tranio. Ff Q.

  [59] _servant_] _servants_ Rowe.

  [60] _matter?_] _matter now?_ Capell.

  [61] _the man_] _this man_ Rowe.

  [64] _'cerns_] Collier, _cernes_ F1 Q. _concerns_ F2 F3 F4.

  [72] _Tranio_] F2 F3 F4. _Tronio_ F1 Q.

  [80] Enter one with an Officer.] Capell. om. Ff Q.

  [81, 83, 94, 118] _gaol_] _Iaile_ F1 Q F2. _Jayle_ F3. _Goal_ F4.

  [83] _the gaol_] _goal_ Rowe (ed. 1). _jail_ Id. (ed. 2).

  [94] _to the_] _to_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [95] _haled_] _haild_ F1 Q F2. _hal'd_ F3 F4. _handled_ Collier MS.

  [96] _villain_] F3 F4. _villaine_ F1 Q F2. _villany_ Dyce conj.

  [97] Re-enter....] Enter.... Ff Q (after line 94). Enter Luc. and
  Bianca. Rowe.

  _and--_] Capell. _and_ Ff Q.

  [98] _undone_] _done_ F2.

  [99] SCENE IX. Pope. SCENE XI. Hanmer. SCENE III. Warburton.

  [Kneeling.] Kneele. F1 Q.

  [Exeunt....] Exit.... Ff Q (after line 95).

  [100] [Kneels to Bap. Capell.

  [100-102] _Pardon ... Vincentio_] Arranged as in Capell: as prose in
  Ff Q.

  [102] _Right son to_] Ff Q. _Right son unto_ Capell. _The right son
  to_ Anon. conj.

  [104] _supposes_] _supposers_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _eyne_] _eyes_ Pope.

  [105] _all_] om. Hanmer.

  [106] _damned_] _damn'd_ Rowe.

  [111] _exchange_] _exchangr_ F2.

  [113] _arrived at the_] F1 Q. _arriv'd at_ F2 F3 F4.

  [122] _for this villany_] _for this villanie_ F1 Q. _for this
  villaine_ F2. _on this vallain_ F3 F4. _on this vallain_ Rowe (ed.
  1).

  [124] [Exeunt L. and B.] Capell. [Exeunt. Ff Q.

  [126] [Exit.] Rowe.

  [127] P. and C. advancing. Theobald.

  [131] _No_] _Mo_ F1.

  [133] _pray thee_] _pray_ Q.

  [135] _once_] _late_ Hanmer. _at once_ Anon. conj.

  _never_] _never's_ Anon. conj. See note (XIX).


SCENE II. _Padua._ LUCENTIO'S _house._

_Enter_ BAPTISTA, VINCENTIO, GREMIO, _the_ Pedant, LUCENTIO, BIANCA,
PETRUCHIO, KATHARINA, HORTENSIO, _and_ Widow, TRANIO, BIONDELLO, _and_
GRUMIO: _the Serving-men with Tranio bringing in a banquet._

    _Luc_. At last, though long, our jarring notes agree:
    And time it is, when raging war is done,
    To smile at scapes and perils overblown.
    My fair Bianca, bid my father welcome,
    While I with self-same kindness welcome thine.                     5
    Brother Petruchio, sister Katharina,
    And thou, Hortensio, with thy loving widow,
    Feast with the best, and welcome to my house:
    My banquet is to close our stomachs up,
    After our great good cheer. Pray you, sit down;                   10
    For now we sit to chat, as well as eat.

    _Pet._ Nothing but sit and sit, and eat and eat!

    _Bap._ Padua affords this kindness, son Petruchio.

    _Pet._ Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

    _Hor._ For both our sakes, I would that word were true.           15

    _Pet._ Now, for my life, Hortensio fears his widow.

    _Wid._ Then never trust me, if I be afeard.

    _Pet._ You are very sensible, and yet you miss my sense:
    I mean, Hortensio is afeard of you.

    _Wid._ He that is giddy thinks the world turns round.             20

    _Pet._ Roundly replied.

    _Kath._                 Mistress, how mean you that?

    _Wid._ Thus I conceive by him.

    _Pet._ Conceives by me! How likes Hortensio that?

    _Hor._ My widow says, thus she conceives her tale.

    _Pet._ Very well mended. Kiss him for that, good widow.           25

    _Kath._ 'He that is giddy thinks the world turns round:'
    I pray you, tell me what you meant by that.

    _Wid._ Your husband, being troubled with a shrew,
    Measures my husband's sorrow by his woe:
    And now you know my meaning.                                      30

    _Kath._ A very mean meaning.

    _Wid._                       Right, I mean you.

    _Kath._ And I am mean, indeed, respecting you.

    _Pet._ To her, Kate!

    _Hor._ To her, widow!

    _Pet._ A hundred marks, my Kate does put her down.                35

    _Hor._ That's my office.

    _Pet._ Spoke like an officer: ha' to thee, lad.
                                         [_Drinks to Hortensio._

    _Bap._ How likes Gremio these quick-witted folks?

    _Gre._ Believe me, sir, they butt together well.

    _Bian._ Head, and butt! an hasty-witted body                      40
    Would say your head and butt were head and horn.

    _Vin._ Ay, mistress bride, hath that awaken'd you?

    _Bian._ Ay, but not frighted me; therefore I'll sleep again.

    _Pet._ Nay, that you shall not: since you have begun,
    Have at you for a bitter jest or two!                             45

    _Bian._ Am I your bird? I mean to shift my bush;
    And then pursue me as you draw your bow.
    You are welcome all.
                         [_Exeunt Bianca, Katharina, and Widow._

    _Pet._ She hath prevented me. Here, Signior Tranio,
    This bird you aim'd at, though you hit her not;                   50
    Therefore a health to all that shot and miss'd.

    _Tra._ O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound,
    Which runs himself, and catches for his master.

    _Pet._ A good swift simile, but something currish.

    _Tra._ 'Tis well, sir, that you hunted for yourself:              55
    'Tis thought your deer does hold you at a bay.

    _Bap._ O ho, Petruchio! Tranio hits you now.

    _Luc._ I thank thee for that gird, good Tranio.

    _Hor._ Confess, confess, hath he not hit you here?

    _Pet._ A' has a little gall'd me, I confess;                      60
    And, as the jest did glance away from me,
    'Tis ten to one it maim'd you two outright.

    _Bap._ Now, in good sadness, son Petruchio,
    I think thou hast the veriest shrew of all.

    _Pet._ Well, I say no: and therefore for assurance                65
    Let's each one send unto his wife;
    And he whose wife is most obedient
    To come at first when he doth send for her,
    Shall win the wager which we will propose.

    _Hor._ Content. What is the wager?

    _Luc._                             Twenty crowns.                 70

    _Pet._ Twenty crowns!
    I'll venture so much of my hawk or hound,
    But twenty times so much upon my wife.

    _Luc._ A hundred then.

    _Hor._                 Content.

    _Pet._                          A match! 'tis done.

    _Hor._ Who shall begin?

    _Luc._                  That will I.                              75
    Go, Biondello, bid your mistress come to me.

    _Bion._ I go.                                       [_Exit._

    _Bap._ Son, I'll be your half, Bianca comes.

    _Luc._ I'll have no halves; I'll bear it all myself.

_Re-enter_ BIONDELLO.

    How now! what news?

    _Bion._             Sir, my mistress sends you word               80
    That she is busy, and she cannot come.

    _Pet._ How! she is busy, and she cannot come!
    Is that an answer?

    _Gre._             Ay, and a kind one too:
    Pray God, sir, your wife send you not a worse.

    _Pet._ I hope, better.                                            85

    _Hor._ Sirrah Biondello, go and entreat my wife
    To come to me forthwith.                  [_Exit Biondello._

    _Pet._                   O, ho! entreat her!
    Nay, then she must needs come.

    _Hor._                         I am afraid, sir,
    Do what you can, yours will not be entreated.

_Re-enter_ BIONDELLO.

    Now, where's my wife?                                             90

    _Bion._ She says you have some goodly jest in hand:
    She will not come; she bids you come to her.

    _Pet._ Worse and worse; she will not come! O vile,
    Intolerable, not to be endured!
    Sirrah Grumio, go to your mistress;                               95
    Say, I command her come to me.               [_Exit Grumio._

    _Hor._ I know her answer.

    _Pet._                    What?

    _Hor._                          She will not.

    _Pet._ The fouler fortune mine, and there an end.

    _Bap._ Now, by my holidame, here comes Katharina!

_Re-enter_ KATHARINA.

    _Kath._ What is your will, sir, that you send for me?            100

    _Pet._ Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife?

    _Kath._ They sit conferring by the parlour fire.

    _Pet._ Go, fetch them hither: if they deny to come,
    Swinge me them soundly forth unto their husbands:
    Away, I say, and bring them hither straight.                     105
                                              [_Exit Katharina._

    _Luc._ Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder.

    _Hor._ And so it is: I wonder what it bodes.

    _Pet._ Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet life,
    An awful rule, and right supremacy;
    And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy?              110

    _Bap._ Now, fair befal thee, good Petruchio!
    The wager thou hast won; and I will add
    Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns;
    Another dowry to another daughter,
    For she is changed, as she had never been.                       115

    _Pet._ Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
    And show more sign of her obedience,
    Her new-built virtue and obedience.
    See where she comes and brings your froward wives
    As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.                          120

_Re-enter_ KATHARINA, _with_ BIANCA _and_ WIDOW.

    Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not:
    Off with that bauble, throw it under-foot.

    _Wid._ Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh,
    Till I be brought to such a silly pass!

    _Bian._ Fie, what a foolish duty call you this?                  125

    _Luc._ I would your duty were as foolish too:
    The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
    Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper-time.

    _Bian._ The more fool you, for laying on my duty.

    _Pet._ Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women     130
    What duty they do owe their lords and husbands.

    _Wid._ Come, come, you're mocking: we will have no telling.

    _Pet._ Come on, I say; and first begin with her.

    _Wid._ She shall not.

    _Pet._ I say she shall: and first begin with her.                135

    _Kath._ Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow;
    And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
    To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:
    It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,
    Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,                140
    And in no sense is meet or amiable.
    A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
    Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
    And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
    Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.                       145
    Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
    Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
    And for thy maintenance commits his body
    To painful labour both by sea and land,
    To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,                   150
    Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
    And craves no other tribute at thy hands
    But love, fair looks and true obedience;
    Too little payment for so great a debt.
    Such duty as the subject owes the prince                         155
    Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
    And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
    And not obedient to his honest will,
    What is she but a foul contending rebel,
    And graceless traitor to her loving lord?                        160
    I am ashamed that women are so simple
    To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
    Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
    When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
    Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,                     165
    Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
    But that our soft conditions and our hearts
    Should well agree with our external parts?
    Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
    My mind hath been as big as one of yours,                        170
    My heart as great, my reason haply more,
    To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
    But now I see our lances are but straws,
    Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
    That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.               175
    Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
    And place your hands below your husband's foot:
    In token of which duty, if he please,
    My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

    _Pet._ Why, there's a wench! Come on, and kiss me, Kate.         180

    _Luc._ Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou shalt ha't.

    _Vin._ 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward.

    _Luc._ But a harsh hearing, when women are froward.

    _Pet._ Come, Kate, we'll to bed.
    We three are married, but you two are sped.                      185
    'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white;
                                                 [_To Lucentio._
    And, being a winner, God give you good night!
                              [_Exeunt Petruchio and Katharina._

    _Hor._ Now, go thy ways; thou hast tamed a curst shrew.

    _Luc._ 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] Steevens. Actus Quintus. F1 Q F2 F3. Scene
  Quarta. F4. ACT V. SCENE I. Rowe. SCENE IV. Warburton. SCENE III.
  Capell.

  ... Petruchio, Katharina, Hortensio...] om. Ff Q. Enter ... Tranio's
  servants bringing in a banquet. Rowe. Musick. A banquet set out. Enter
  ... Tranio, Grumio, Biondello and others, attending. Capell.

  [1-62] _At last ... outright_] Put in the margin as spurious by Pope.

  [2] _done_] Rowe. _come_ Ff Q. _calm_ Malone conj. _gone_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  [6] _Katharina_] _Katharine_ Rowe.

  [8] _best_] _rest_ Anon conj.

  [9] _banquet_] F3 F4. _banket_ F1 Q F2.

  [11] [Company sit to table. Capell.

  [14] _nothing_] _no thing_ S. Walker conj.

  [17] Wid.] F1 Q. Hor. F2 F3 F4.

  [18] _very_] om. Steevens.

  _and yet_] _yet_ Anon conj.

  [22-37] _Thus I ... lad_] Verses differently arranged in Capell.

  [23] _Conceives_] _Conceive_ Capell.

  [27] _meant_] _mean_ Anon conj.

  [35] _does_] F1 Q. _doe_ F2. _do_ F3 F4.

  [37] _ha' to thee, lad_] _ha to the lad_ F1. _ha to thee lad_ Q F2 F3
  F4. _here's to thee, lad_ Collier MS.

  [38] _How likes_] _And how likes_ Capell. _How liketh_ Anon. conj.

  [39] _they_] _they'ld_ Anon conj.

  _butt together well_] _butt heads together well_ Rowe (ed. 2). _but
  heads well together_ Capell.

  [40] _Head_] _How! head_ Capell.

  [45] _bitter_] Capell (Theobald conj.). _better_ Ff Q.

  _two_] F3 F4. _too_ F1 Q F2.

  [47] _your_] _my_ Q.

  [Rising. Capell.

  [48] [Exeunt B., K., and Widow.] Exit ... Rowe. [Exit B. Ff Q.
       [Exit. Cat. and Wid. follow. Capell.

  [49] [Filling. Capell.

  [50] _her_] _it_ Rowe.

  [51] [Drinks. Capell.

  [57] _O ho_] Capell. _Oh, Oh_ Ff Q.

  [60] _A' has_] _A has_ Ff Q. He has Rowe.

  [62] _two_] Rowe. _too_ Ff Q.

  [63] SCENE X. Pope. SCENE XII. Hanmer.

  [65] _therefore for_] F2 F3 F4. _therefore sir_ F1. _therefore sir_,
  Q.

  _for assurance_] _sir, as surance_ Staunton conj.

  [66-69] _Let's ...wager_] Printed by Pope as three lines ending _he
  ... first ... wager._

  [66] _Let's_] _Please you, let's_ Capell.

  _wife_] _several wife_ Collier MS.

  [68] _at first_] _first_ Pope.

  [69] _which we will propose_] omitted by Pope.

  [70] _What is the_] Steevens. _what's the_ Ff Q. _what_ Pope. _the_
  Capell.

  [72] _of_] _on_ Rowe.

  [75] _begin?_] _begin, Lucentio?_ Anon. conj.

  _That will I._] _That will I.--Here, where are you?_ Capell.

  [78] _I'll_] _Ile_ F1 Q F2. _I'le_ F3 F4. _I will_ Capell.

  _your half_] Ff (_your_ F4). _you halfe_ Q.

  [80] _Sir_] om. S. Walker conj.

  [81, 82] _she cannot_] _cannot_ F3 F4.

  [82-88] _How! ... come_] Printed as prose in Ff Q.

  [82] _she is_] Capell. _she's_ Ff Q.

  [85] _better_] _a better_ S. Walker conj.

  [88] _must needs_] _needs must_ Steevens.

  [93, 94] _Worse ... endured_] As two lines in Ff Q, ending _come ...
  indur'd._

  [95] _Sirrah_] _Here, sirrah_ Capell.

  [96] _come_] _to come_ F3 F4.

  [97] _She_] _That she_ Capell.

  _not_] _not come_ Steevens.

  [98] _there_] _there's_ Rowe.

  [99] _Katharina_] _Katharine_ Rowe.

  Re-enter K.] Enter K. Ff Q (after line 98).

  [105] _them_] _then_ F2.

  [106] _of a wonder_] _of wonder_ S. Walker conj.

  [109] _An awful_] _And awful_ Rowe (ed. 2). _And lawful_ Rawlinson
  conj.

  [117] _her obedience_] _her submission_ S. Walker conj.

  [118] _and obedience_] _of obedience_ Capell. _and her gentleness_ or
  _and her patience_ Edd. conj.

  [120] Re-enter K. with B. and Widow] Enter Kate, B. and Widdow. Ff Q
  (after line 118).

  [122] [She pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Rowe.

  [128] _Hath cost me an_] Rowe. _Hath cost me five_ Ff Q. _Cost me an_
  Pope. _Cost me a_ Capell. _Hath cost one_ Singer (ed. 1). _Cost me
  one_ Collier MS.

  [130, 131] _Katharine ... husbands_] Printed as prose in Ff Q; as
  verse by Rowe (ed. 2).

  [131] _do owe_] _owe to_ F3 F4.

  [132] _you're_] F3 F4. _your_ F1 Q F2.

  [133] _begin with her_] _begin--_ Capell, ending the verse with _shall
  not._

  [136] _threatening_] _thretaning_ F1. _threating_ F2.

  [139] _do bite_] F1 Q. _bite_ F2 F3 F4.

  [140] _fame_] _frame_ Grey conj.

  [145] _one_] _a_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [157] _she is_] _she's_ Pope.

  [169] _you_] Ff Q. _you'ar_ Rowe (ed. 1). _you're_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [171] _as_] F1 Q. _is_ F2 F3 F4.

  [174] _as_] _is_ Rowe.

  [175] _to be_] om. Collier MS. _indeed_] om. Steevens.

  [176-189] _Then vail ... tamed so_] Put in the margin as spurious by
  Pope. See note (XXIII).

  [181] Luc.] Bap. Capell conj.

  [185] _three_] _two_ Rowe.

  [186] _won_] _one_ Capell (corrected in note).

  [To Lucentio.] Malone.

  [187] [... and Katharina] ... and Kath. Rowe.

  [189] _be_] om. Q.




NOTES.


NOTE I.

IND. The Folios and the Quarto have here _Actus Primus_. _Scæna Prima_,
making no separation between the play and the Induction. The play is
divided into Acts, but not into Scenes. The second Act, however, is not
marked in any of the old copies. The arrangement which we have followed
is that of Steevens, which all subsequent editors have adopted, and
which is therefore the most convenient for purposes of reference.


NOTE II.

IND. 1. 7. The phrase 'Go by, Jeronimy,' quoted from Kyd's 'Spanish
Tragedy,' was used in popular 'slang,' derisively. It occurs frequently
in the dramatic literature of the time, for example, in Beaumont and
Fletcher's _Captain_, Act III. Sc. 5. The 'S' of the Folios may have
been derived from a note of exclamation in the MS., written, as it is
usually printed, like a note of interrogation.


NOTE III.

IND. 1. 62. Mr Lettsom's suggestion that a line has been lost between 61
and 62 seems the most probable solution of the difficulties presented by
this passage in its present form.


NOTE IV.

IND. 1. 86. 'Sincklo,' the stage direction of the first Folio, was the
name of an actor in Shakespeare's company, not mentioned in the list of
'Principall Actors' at the beginning of the first Folio. He was one of
the actors in the Second Part of _Henry IV._, as appears from the 4to.
edition of that play, published in 1600, where the stage direction to
Act V. Scene 4 is, "Enter Sincklo and three or foure officers," and the
part taken by Sincklo is that usually assigned to the 'Officer.' In the
Third Part of _Henry VI._ Act III. Scene 1, the stage direction in the
first Folio is, 'Enter Sinklo, and Humfrey, with crosse-bowes in their
hands.' Sinklo also appears as an actor in the Induction to Marston's
play of _The Malcontent_. In the present play he probably took the part
of Lucentio.

In III. 1. 80, '_Nicke._' is supposed by Steevens to mean Nicholas
Tooley, who at a later period became one of the 'Principall Actors.'


NOTE V.

IND. 1. 99. Pope inserts here the following speech from the old play:

'_2 Player_ [_to the other_]. Go get a dishclout to make clean your
shoes, and I'll speak for the properties. [_Exit Player._] My lord, we
must have a shoulder of mutton for a property, and a little vinegar to
make our devil roar.'

This insertion is repeated by all subsequent editors, till Capell struck
it out of the text and Steevens placed it in a note.


NOTE VI.

IND. 2. 96. The following speeches are here inserted by Pope from the
same source:

    '_Sly._ By th' mass I think I am a lord indeed.
    What's thy name?

_Man._ Simon, an't please your honour.

_Sly._ Sim? that's as much as to say Simeon or Simon; put forth thy hand
and fill the pot.'

Capell was the first to strike it out of the text.


NOTE VII.

IND. 2. 110. Pope prefixed to Sly's speech the following words from the
old play, without giving any indication that they were not
Shakespeare's: 'Come sit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her.' They are
repeated in all subsequent editions, till Capell restored the true text.
After line 115, Pope again added, 'Sim, drink to her.'


NOTE VIII.

I. 1. 32. The old play (Q) after the Induction, commences thus:

'_Polidor._ Welcome to Athens, my beloved friend, To Plato's school and
Aristotle's walks....'

but this affords us no hint as to the true reading of the passage in
question, whether 'checks' or 'ethics.' When Mr Halliwell conjectured
that we should read 'works' for 'walks,' he had not observed that the
allusion was to the gardens of the Lyceum, the favourite haunt of the
Peripatetics.


NOTE IX.

I. 1. 57. We have often observed that as in this line and in III. 1. 4,
and Ind. 2. 110, the metre may be completed by pronouncing the name of
the speaker at the beginning. This is one indication among many, of the
haste with which parts of Shakespeare's plays were thrown off.


NOTE X.

I. 2. 145. Considering the carelessness with which a plural
demonstrative pronoun was used with reference to a singular noun and
_vice versa_, we have not altered the reading of the old editions in
order to accommodate the construction to modern rule. See note (IV) to
_Love's Labour's Lost_.


NOTE XI.

I. 2. 259. The misprint in Rowe's second edition remained uncorrected by
Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, Warburton, and Johnson. Capell in correcting the
error made another by writing 'her' for 'the.' He printed his edition
not from any former text, but from a manuscript of his own writing.

Another instance of the facility with which a misprint which makes sense
escapes correction is found in II. 1. 4, where 'put,' a misprint for
'pull' in the Variorum of 1821, was retained by many subsequent editors,
Mr Collier, Mr Singer, &c.


NOTE XII.

I. 2. 278. Mr Grant White believes the whole of the foregoing scene to
be by some other hand than Shakespeare's. Coleridge and Sidney Walker
also held that large portions of the play were not from the master's
hand. It appears to us impossible to discriminate, as in _Henry the
Eighth_ and _The Two Noble Kinsmen_, what parts were due to Shakespeare
and what to another hand. The feeblest scenes of this play seem to have
been touched by him. The probability is that he worked, in this case,
not with, but after, another.


NOTE XIII.

II. 1. 403. Pope inserts from the old play:

'[_Sly speaks to one of the servants._

_Sly._ Sim, when will the fool come again?

_Sim._ Anon, my lord.

_Sly._ Give's some more drink here--where's the tapster? here Sim, eat
some of these things.

_Sim._ So I do, my lord.

_Sly._ Here Sim, I drink to thee.'

These lines were repeated by all subsequent editors down to Capell, who
inserted them at a different place. See note (XVI).


NOTE XIV.

III. 2. 63. Mr Collier says that the Quarto reads 'the humor _or_ fourty
fancies...' If so, his copy differs from ours, which reads 'the humor
_of_ fourty fancies...'


NOTE XV.

III. 2. 81-84. It is not always clear from the way in which Capell's
text is printed whether he meant a passage where there is a rapid change
of speakers to be read as prose or verse. In the Edition before us, this
is always explained by certain conventional symbols inserted with his
own hand in red ink. This he probably did with a view to a second
edition, which he never lived to bring out. 'Tulit alter honores.'


NOTE XVI.

III. 2. 245. Capell here inserted the lines which Pope put after II. 1.
403. See note (XIII).


NOTE XVII.

IV. 1. 124. Theobald first printed 'Where is the life that late I led?'
as part of a song. He printed also the following words, 'Where are
those--' in italics, as if they were a continuation of the song. He was
followed by Hanmer, Warburton, and Johnson, but not by Capell. As the
song is lost, the question must remain doubtful.


NOTE XVIII.

IV. 2. Pope made a bold transposition, and placed here the scene which
in our Edition stands as the third scene of the fourth Act, beginning:

'_Gra._ No, no, forsooth, I dare not for my life,'

and ending:

'_Hor._ Why so this gallant will command the sun.'

The scene thus in Pope's edition counted as the 4th, 5th, and 6th scenes
of Act IV.

Our Scene 2 of Act IV. is in Pope's edition Scenes 1 and 2 of Act V.

Theobald restored the old arrangement, which, as he proves in a note, is
indisputably the right one.


NOTE XIX.

IV. 2. 120. Hanmer inserts from the old play the following lines, which
are placed by Pope after IV. 3. 192, and by Capell after V. 1. 132.

    '_Lord._ Who's within there?
                                                  [_Sly sleeps._

_Enter_ Servants.

    Asleep again! go take him easily up, and put him in his own apparel
    again. But see you wake him not in any case.

    _Serv._ It shall be done, my lord: come help to bear him hence.
                                         [_They carry off Sly._'


NOTE XX.

IV. 4. 62. There is evidently some mistake here. On the whole it seems
better to change 'Cambio' to 'Biondello' in line 62, than '_Bion._' to
'Luc.' in line 66. The supposed Cambio was not acting as Baptista's
servant, and, moreover, had he been sent on such an errand he would have
'flown on the wings of love' to perform it. We must suppose that
Biondello apparently makes his exit, but really waits till the stage is
clear for an interview with his disguised master. The line 67 is as
suitable to the faithful servant as to the master himself.


NOTE XXI.

IV. 4. 70. Mr Dyce says that in some copies of the first Folio the 'l'
in welcome is scarcely visible. It was from one of these copies,
doubtless, that the later Folios were printed. The 'l' is clear enough
in Capell's copy of F1.


NOTE XXII.

V. 1. 26. We have retained 'from Padua,' which is the reading of the old
Edition, and probably right. The Pedant has been staying some time at
Padua, and that is all he means when he contradicts the newly arrived
traveller from Pisa.


NOTE XXIII.

V. 2. 176-189. The following speeches are added by Pope from the old
play, and remained as part of the text till Capell's time:

'_Enter two Servants bearing_ Sly _in his own apparel, and leave him on
the stage. Then enter a_ Tapster.

_Sly awaking._] Sim, give's some more wine--what, all the Players gone?
am not I a lord?

_Tap._ A lord with a murrain! Come, art thou drunk still?

_Sly._ Who's this? Tapster! oh, I have had the bravest dream that ever
thou heardst in all thy life.

_Tap._ Yea marry, but thou hadst best get thee home, for your wife will
course you for dreaming here all night.

_Sly._ Will she? I know how to tame a Shrew. I dreamt upon it all this
night, and thou hast wak'd me out of the best dream that ever I had. But
I'll to my wife, and tame her too, if she anger me.'




ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.




DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[5].


    KING OF FRANCE.

    DUKE OF FLORENCE.

    BERTRAM, Count of Rousillon[6].

    LAFEU[7], an old lord.

    PAROLLES[8], a follower of Bertram.

    Steward,            }
                         } servants to the Countess of Rousillon.
    LAVACHE, a Clown    }

    A Page.


    COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, mother to Bertram.

    HELENA, a gentlewoman protected by the Countess.

    An old Widow of Florence.

    DIANA, daughter to the Widow.

    VIOLENTA, }
               } neighbours and friends to the Widow.
    MARIANA,  }

    Lords, Officers, Soldiers, &c., French and Florentine.

    SCENE: _Rousillon_; _Paris_; _Florence_; _Marseilles_.

FOOTNOTES:

  [5] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] First given by Rowe. See note (I).

  [6] _Rousillon_] Pope. _Rossilion._ Rowe. _Rosillion_ Capell.

  [7] LAFEU] LEFEU Steevens conj.

  [8] PAROLLES] PAROLES Steevens conj.




ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.




ACT I.

SCENE I. _Rousillon._ _The_ Count's _palace_.


_Enter_ BERTRAM, _the_ COUNTESS of ROUSILLON, HELENA, _and_ LAFEU,
_all in black_.

    _Count._ In delivering my son from me, I bury a second
    husband.

    _Ber._ And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's
    death anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to
    whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.                     5

    _Laf._ You shall find of the king a husband, madam;
    you, sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times good,
    must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose worthiness
    would stir it up where it wanted, rather than lack it where
    there is such abundance.                                          10

    _Count._ What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?

    _Laf._ He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under
    whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope, and
    finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing
    of hope by time.                                                  15

    _Count._ This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that
    'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was almost as
    great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have
    made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack
    of work. Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I            20
    think it would be the death of the king's disease.

    _Laf._ How called you the man you speak of, madam?

    _Count._ He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was
    his great right to be so,--Gerard de Narbon.

    _Laf._ He was excellent indeed madam: the king very               25
    lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he was
    skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set
    up against mortality.

    _Ber._ What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of?

    _Laf._ A fistula, my lord.                                        30

    _Ber._ I heard not of it before.

    _Laf._ I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman
    the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

    _Count._ His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my
    overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her education    35
    promises; her dispositions she inherits, which makes
    fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous
    qualities, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues
    and traitors too: in her they are the better for their simpleness;
    she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness.                40

    _Laf._ Your commendations, madam, get from her tears.

    _Count._ 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise
    in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her
    heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from
    her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest          45
    it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than to have--

    _Hel._ I do affect a sorrow, indeed, but I have it too.

    _Laf._ Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead;
    excessive grief the enemy to the living.

    _Count._ If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess          50
    makes it soon mortal.

    _Ber._ Madam, I desire your holy wishes.

    _Laf._ How understand we that?

    _Count._ Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father
    In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue                     55
    Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
    Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
    Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
    Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
    Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,                 60
    But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will,
    That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
    Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord;
    'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord,
    Advise him.

    _Laf._      He cannot want the best                               65
    That shall attend his love.

    _Count._ Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram.       [_Exit._

    _Ber._ [_To Helena_] The best wishes that can be forged in
    your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable to my
    mother, your mistress, and make much of her.                      70

    _Laf._ Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit
    of your father.                 [_Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu._

    _Hel._ O, were that all! I think not on my father;
    And these great tears grace his remembrance more
    Than those I shed for him. What was he like?                      75
    I have forgot him: my imagination
    Carries no favour in 't but Bertram's.
    I am undone: there is no living, none,
    If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one
    That I should love a bright particular star                       80
    And think to wed it, he is so above me:
    In his bright radiance and collateral light
    Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
    The ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
    The hind that would be mated by the lion                          85
    Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
    To see him every hour; to sit and draw
    His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
    In our heart's table; heart too capable
    Of every line and trick of his sweet favour:                      90
    But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
    Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here?

_Enter_ PAROLLES.

    [_Aside_] One that goes with him: I love him for his sake;
    And yet I know him a notorious liar,
    Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;                      95
    Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him,
    That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
    Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see
    Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

    _Par._ Save you, fair queen!                                     100

    _Hel._ And you, monarch!

    _Par._ No.

    _Hel._ And no.

    _Par._ Are you meditating on virginity?

    _Hel._ Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let            105
    me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how
    may we barricado it against him?

    _Par._ Keep him out.

    _Hel._ But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant,
    in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some warlike            110
    resistance.

    _Par._ There is none: man, sitting down before you, will
    undermine you and blow you up.

    _Hel._ Bless our poor virginity from underminers and
    blowers up! Is there no military policy, how virgins             115
    might blow up men?

    _Par._ Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier
    be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the
    breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not
    politic in the commonwealth of nature to preserve virginity.     120
    Loss of virginity is rational increase and there was never
    virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made
    of is metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost
    may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever lost:
    'tis too cold a companion; away with 't!                         125

    _Hel._ I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a
    virgin.

    _Par._ There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the rule
    of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse
    your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He          130
    that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself; and
    should be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit, as a
    desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites,
    much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and
    so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is      135
    peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited
    sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose
    but lose by 't: out with 't! within ten year it will make
    itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the principal
    itself not much the worse: away with 't!                         140

    _Hel._ How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?

    _Par._ Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it
    likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the
    longer kept, the less worth: off with 't while 'tis vendible;
    answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier,     145
    wears her cap out of fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable:
    just like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not now.
    Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in
    your cheek: and your virginity, your old virginity, is like
    one of our French withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily;   150
    marry, 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; marry,
    yet 'tis a withered pear: will you any thing with it?

    _Hel._ Not my virginity yet....
    There shall your master have a thousand loves,
    A mother and a mistress and a friend,                            155
    A poenix, captain and an enemy,
    A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
    A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
    His humble ambition, proud humility,
    His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,                     160
    His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
    Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
    That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he--
    I know not what he shall. God send him well!
    The court's a learning place, and he is one--                    165

    _Par._ What one, i' faith?

    _Hel._ That I wish well. 'Tis pity--

    _Par._ What's pity?

    _Hel._ That wishing well had not a body in't,
    Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born,                   170
    Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
    Might with effects of them follow our friends,
    And show what we alone must think, which never
    Returns us thanks.

_Enter_ Page.

    _Page._ Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.   [_Exit._     175

    _Par._ Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I
    will think of thee at court.

    _Hel._ Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable
    star.

    _Par._ Under Mars, I.                                            180

    _Hel._ I especially think, under Mars.

    _Par._ Why under Mars?

    _Hel._ The wars have so kept you under, that you must
    needs be born under Mars.

    _Par._ When he was predominant.                                  185

    _Hel._ When he was retrograde, I think, rather.

    _Par._ Why think you so?

    _Hel._ You go so much backward when you fight.

    _Par._ That's for advantage.

    _Hel._ So is running away, when fear proposes the safety:        190
    but the composition that your valour and fear makes in you
    is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.

    _Par._ I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee
    acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my
    instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be      195
    capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice
    shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness,
    and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When
    thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none,
    remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use           200
    him as he uses thee: so, farewell.                  [_Exit._

    _Hel._ Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
    Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
    Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull
    Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.                     205
    What power is it which mounts my love so high;
    That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye?
    The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
    To join like likes and kiss like native things.
    Impossible be strange attempts to those                          210
    That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose
    What hath been cannot be: who ever strove
    To show her merit, that did miss her love?
    The king's disease--my project may deceive me,
    But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.    [_Exit._     215

LINENOTES:

  ACT I. SCENE I.] Actus Primus. Scæna Prima. Ff.

  Enter.... ] Enter yong Bertram, Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and
  Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke. Ff.

  [1] Count.] Mother. Ff, and afterwards Mo.

  _delivering_] _delivering up_ Hanmer. _dissevering_ Warburton.

  _son from me,_] _son, for me_ or _son, 'fore me_, Becket conj.

  [3] _And I in going, madam_] F1. _And in going Madam_ F2 F3 F4. _And
  in going, madam, I_ Rowe.

  [9] _lack_] _slack_ Theobald (Warburton).

  [13] _persecuted_] _prosecuted_ Hanmer.

  [17] _passage_] _preface_ Hanmer. _presage_ Warburton. _pesage_ Becket
  conj.

  _was_] om. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [18] _would_] _it would_ Rowe, _'t would_ Singer.

  [19] _have_] _have had_ Hanmer.

  _play_] _play'd_ Warburton.

  [29, 31, 52] Ber.] Ros. Ff.

  [35] _hopes of her good that her_] _good hopes of her that her_ or
  _hopes of her that her good_ Anon. conj.

  [36] _promises; her_] Rowe. _promises her_ Ff. _promises her;_ Pope.

  _her dispositions_] _the honesty of her dispositions_ Staunton conj.

  _dispositions_] _disposition_ Rowe.

  [39] _their_] _her_ Hammer (Warburton).

  [41] _from her tears_] _tears from her_ Pope.

  [46] _it be rather thought you_] _you be rather thought to_ Hanmer.

  _to have--_] Ff. _to have it._ Warburton. _have it._ Capell. _to
  have._ Steevens.

  [48] _lamentation_] F1. _lamentations_ F2 F3 F4.

  [50] Count.] Hel. Tieck.

  _be_] _be not_ Theobald (Warburton).

  [52, 53] Ber. _Madam, ..._ Laf. _How_ ... ] Laf. _How ..._ Ber.
  _Madam_, ... Theobald conj.

  [63] _head_] F1. _hand_ F2 F3 F4.

  _Farewell, my lord:_] _Farewell my Lord,_ Ff. _Farewel.--My lord
  Lafeu,_ Capell. FAREWELL. MY LORD, Steevens.

  [63-67] Hanmer ends the lines _'tis an ... advise him ... attend ...
  Bertram._ S. Walker would end them _My lord Lafeu, ... my lord ...
  that shall ... Bertram,_ reading _can't_ for _cannot_ in line 65.

  [64] _Advise him._] _Advise him you._ Capell.

  [65-87] Laf. _He cannot ... draw_] Omitted in F4.

  [67] _Heaven_] _May heaven_ Hanmer.

  [68] [To Helena] Rowe.

  [71] _must hold_] _uphold_ Rann (Mason conj.).

  [72] [Exeunt...] Rowe. om. Ff.

  [73] SCENE II. Pope.

  [75] _those I_] _they are_ Hanmer.

  [77] _in't but Bertram's_] _in it but my Bertram's_ Pope. _in it, but
  of Bertram_ Capell. _in 't but only Bertram's_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [79] _'Twere_] F1 F2 F3. _It were_ Pope.

  [80] _particular_] F1 F2 F3. _partic'lar_ Pope.

  [81] _me:_] Rowe. _me_ F1 F2 F3.

  [84] _The_] _Th'_ F1 F2 F3.

  [88] _brows_] _browes_ F1 F2. _arrows_ F3 F4.

  [89] _our_] _my_ Collier MS.

  [90] _trick_] _trait_ Becket conj.

  [92] _reliques_] F1 F2. _relick_ F3 F4.

  Enter Parolles.] Ff. Dyce transfers to line 99.

  [93] [Aside] Edd.]

  [95] _solely_] F3 F4. _solie_ F1 F2. _wholly_ Hanmer.

  [97] _steely_] _seely_ Williams conj.

  [98] _Look_] Rowe. _Lookes_ F1 F2. _Looks_ F3 F4.

  _i'the_] _in the_ Pope.

  _withal_] om. Pope.

  [99] _Cold_] S. Walker conjectures that this is corrupt.

  _folly_] F3 F4. _follie_ F1 F2.

  [100] SCENE III. Pope.

  _Save_] _'Save_ Hanmer.

  [105] _stain_] _strain_ Halliwell conj.

  [107] _barricado_] Rowe. _barracedo_ F1. _barrocado_ F2 F3 F4.

  [107-109] _him?_ Par. _Keep him out._ Hel. _But_] _him to keep him
  out? for_ Hanmer.

  [109] _assails_] _assails us_ S. Walker conj.

  [109, 110] _valiant, in the defence yet_] Ff. _valiant in the defence,
  yet_ Steevens.

  [110] _to us_] F1. _us_ F2 F3 F4.

  [112] _sitting_] Johnson. _setting_ Ff.

  [114] _Bless_] _'Bless_ Capell conj. MS.

  [121] _rational_] _national_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.). _natural_ Anon.
  ap. Halliwell conj.

  [122] _got_] F2 F3 F4. _goe_ F1.

  [130] _mothers_] _mother_ Rowe.

  [130, 131] _He ... is_] _He ... is like_ Hanmer. _As he ... so is_
  Warburton.

  [135] _his_] _its_ Rowe. _on its_ Hanmer.

  [137] _inhibited_] F1. _inhabited_ F2 F3 F4. _prohibited_ Pope.

  [138, 139] _ten year ... ten,_] _ten years ... ten_ Hanmer. _ten yeare
  ... two_ F1. _ten yeares ... two_ F2 F3. _ten years ... two_ F4. _two
  years ... two_ Collier, ed. 2 (Steevens conj.). _ten years ... twelve_
  Tollet conj. _ten months ... two_ Singer (Malone conj.). _one year ...
  two_ Grant White. _the year ... two_ Anon. conj.

  [142, 143] _it likes_] _likes it_ S. Walker conj.

  [143] _'Tis_] _And 'tis_ Hanmer.

  [147] _wear_] Capell. _were_ Ff. _we wear_ Rowe.

  [152] _yet_] _yes,_ Hanmer.

  _will you_] _will you do_ Collier MS.

  _with it?_] _with me?_ Johnson conj. _with us?_ Tyrwhitt conj. _with
  it? I am now bound for the court._ Malone conj. _with it? We are for
  the Court._ Staunton conj.

  [153] _Not_] _Not with_ Collier MS.

  _yet._] _yet. You're for the Court:_ Hanmer. See note (II).

  [153, 154] _Not ... your_] _No!--my virginity! yet There shall its_
  Jackson conj.

  [154] _shall_] _should_ Steevens conj.

  [155] _A mother_] _Another_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [156-163] _A phoenix ... shall he_] Put in brackets as spurious by
  Warburton.

  [156] _captain_] _captor_ Anon. conj.

  [159] _humble_] F1. _humblest_ F2 F3 F4.

  [162] _pretty_] _petty_ Harness.

  _fond, adoptious_] _fond-adoptious_ S. Walker conj.

  [163] _he--_] Rowe. _he:_ Ff.

  [165] _learning place_] _learning-place_ Steevens.

  _one--_] Rowe. _one._ Ff.

  [167] _pity--_] Rowe. _pitty._ F1 F2 F3. _pity._ F4.

  [168] Par. _What's pity?_] Omitted in Pope (ed. 2).

  [170] _the_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [176] Exit.] Theobald.

  [183] _wars have_] Pope. _warres hath_ F1 F2. _waters hath_ F3 F4.
  _waters have_ Rowe.

  [190] _So ... safety_] Printed as two lines in Ff, the first ending
  _away_.

  _the safety_] _safety_ F3 F4.

  [191] _makes_] _make_ Hanmer.

  [192] _wing_] _ming_ Warburton.

  _I like the wear_] _is like to wear_ Mason conj.

  [193] _businesses_] F1 F2 F3. _business_ F4. _businesses, as_
  Theobald.

  [195] _instruction_] _instrument_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [196] _of a_] F1. _of the_ F2 F3 F4. _of_ Pope.

  [202] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [207] _That_] _Which_ Capell.

  [208] _The mightiest space_] _The mighty and base_ Mason conj. _The
  wid'st apart_ Staunton conj.

  _fortune nature_] _nature fortune_ Malone conj. (withdrawn).

  _brings_] _springs_ Anon. (Fras. Mag.) conj.

  [208, 209] _The ... To join like likes_] _Through ... Likes to join
  likes_ Johnson conj. _The ... Like to join like Long_ MS.

  [212] _hath been cannot be_] _hath not been ca'nt be_ Hanmer. _ha'nt
  been cannot be_ Mason conj. _n'ath been cannot be_ Staunton conj.

  [214] _The king's disease_--] Rowe. (_The Kings disease_) Ff.


SCENE II. _Paris._ _The_ KING'S _palace._

_Flourish of cornets._ _Enter the_ KING OF FRANCE _with letters, and
divers Attendants._

    _King._ The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears;
    Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
    A braving war.

    _First Lord._ So 'tis reported, sir.

    _King._ Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it
    A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria,                      5
    With caution, that the Florentine will move us
    For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
    Prejudicates the business, and would seem
    To have us make denial.

    _First Lord._           His love and wisdom,
    Approved so to your majesty, may plead                            10
    For amplest credence.

    _King._                 He hath arm'd our answer,
    And Florence is denied before he comes:
    Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
    The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
    To stand on either part.

    _Sec. Lord._           It well may serve                          15
    A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
    For breathing and exploit.

    _King._                What's he comes here?

_Enter_ BERTRAM, LAFEU, _and_ PAROLLES.

    _First Lord._ It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord,
    Young Bertram.

    _King._        Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
    Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,                       20
    Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts
    Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

    _Ber._ My thanks and duty are your majesty's.

    _King._ I would I had that corporal soundness now,
    As when thy father and myself in friendship                       25
    First tried our soldiership! He did look far
    Into the service of the time, and was
    Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long;
    But on us both did haggish age steal on,
    And wore us out of act. It much repairs me                        30
    To talk of your good father. In his youth
    He had the wit, which I can well observe
    To-day in our young lords; but they may jest
    Till their own scorn return to them unnoted
    Ere they can hide their levity in honour:                         35
    So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
    Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
    His equal had awaked them; and his honour,
    Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
    Exception bid him speak, and at this time                         40
    His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him
    He used as creatures of another place;
    And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
    Making them proud of his humility,
    In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man                       45
    Might be a copy to these younger times;
    Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
    But goers backward.

    _Ber._              His good remembrance, sir,
    Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb;
    So in approof lives not his epitaph                               50
    As in your royal speech.

    _King._ Would I were with him! He would always say--
    Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words
    He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them,
    To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'--                  55
    This his good melancholy oft began,
    On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
    When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he,
    'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff
    Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses                     60
    All but new things disdain; whose judgements are
    Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
    Expire before their fashions. This he wish'd:
    I after him do after him wish too,
    Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,                         65
    I quickly were dissolved from my hive,
    To give some labourers room.

    _Sec. Lord._           You are loved, sir;
    They that least lend it you shall lack you first.

    _King._ I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count,
    Since the physician at your father's died?                        70
    He was much famed.

    _Ber._                Some six months since, my lord.

    _King._ If he were living, I would try him yet.
    Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out
    With several applications: nature and sickness
    Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count;                       75
    My son's no dearer.

    _Ber._                Thank your majesty.   [_Exeunt. Flourish._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] Capell. SCENE V. Pope.

  Flourish of cornets.] Flourish cornets. Ff.

  [1] _Senoys_] _Siennois_ or _Siennese_ Lloyd conj.

  _the ears_] Capell. _th' eares_ Ff.

  [3, 9, 18] First Lord.] 1. Lord. Rowe. 1. Lo. G. Ff.

  [15, 67] Sec. Lord.] 2. Lord. Rowe. 2. Lo. E. Ff.

  [15] _well may_] _may well_ F3 F4.

  [18] _It is_] F1 F4. _It 'tis_ F2 F3.

  _Rousillon_] Pope. _Rosignoll_ F1. _Rosillion_ F2. _Rossillion_ F3
  F4.

  [21] _Hath well composed thee_] _Compos'd thee well_ Pope.

  [28] _bravest_] _brav'st_ Pope.

  [32] _well_] _ill_ Long MS.

  [35] _hide their levity in honour_] _vye their levity with his honour_
  Hanmer. _hide their levity in humour_ Long MS.

  [35, 36] _honour: So like a courtier,_] Ff. _honour, So like a
  courtier:_ Capell (Blackstone conj.). _honour: No courtier-like_ Lloyd
  conj.

  [36] _contempt nor_] _no contempt nor_ Rowe (ed. 1). _no contempt or_
  Rowe (ed. 2).

  [37] _in his pride or sharpness;_] _in him; pride or sharpness_,
  Theobald (Warburton). _in him, pride or sharpness;_ Capell.

  _if they were_] _if there were_ Theobald (Warburton).

  [39] _Clock_] _Block_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [40] _Exception_] _Exceptions_ Theobald.

  _this_] _that_ Rowe.

  [41] _his hand_] _the hand_ Johnson conj. _it's hand_ Capell. _his
  head_ Long MS.

  [42] _another place_] _a brother-race_ Hanmer.

  [44] _proud of_] _proud; and_ Warburton.

  [44, 45] _humility, In ... praise he humbled_] _humility: He in ...
  praise, humbled_ Becket conj.

  [45] _he humbled_] _be-humbled_ Staunton conj.

  [47] _demonstrate them now_] _now demonstrate them_ Pope.

  [50] _So in approof lives not his_] _Approof so lives not in his_
  Johnson conj. _So his approof lives not in_ Capell.

  [56] _This_] Ff. _Thus_ Pope.

  [58] _it_] _wit_ Staunton conj.

  [62] _fathers_] _feathers_ Tyrwhitt conj. _parcels_ Williams conj.

  [67] _labourers_] _labourer_ Warburton.

  _You are_] Capell. _You'r_ F1 F2. _You're_ F3 F4.

  [76] _Thank_] _Thanks to_ Rowe.

  [Exeunt.] Exit. Ff.


SCENE III. _Rousillon._ _The_ COUNT'S _palace_.

_Enter_ COUNTESS, Steward, _and_ Clown.

    _Count._ I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman?

    _Stew._ Madam, the care I have had to even your content,
    I wish might be found in the calendar of my past
    endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make                 5
    foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we
    publish them.

    _Count._ What does this knave here? Get you gone,
    sirrah: the complaints I have heard of you I do not all
    believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know you           10
    lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to
    make such knaveries yours.

    _Clo._ 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor
    fellow.

    _Count._ Well, sir.                                               15

    _Clo._ No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor,
    though many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have
    your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel the
    woman and I will do as we may.

    _Count._ Wilt thou needs be a beggar?                             20

    _Clo._ I do beg your good will in this case.

    _Count._ In what case?

    _Clo._ In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no
    heritage: and I think I shall never have the blessing of
    God till I have issue o' my body; for they say barnes are         25
    blessings.

    _Count._ Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.

    _Clo._ My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on
    by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.

    _Count._ Is this all your worship's reason?                       30

    _Clo._ Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as
    they are.

    _Count._ May the world know them?

    _Clo._ I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you
    and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry that         35
    I may repent.

    _Count._ Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.

    _Clo._ I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have
    friends for my wife's sake.

    _Count._ Such friends are thine enemies, knave.                   40

    _Clo._ You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the
    knaves come to do that for me, which I am aweary of. He
    that ears my land spares my team, and gives me leave to in
    the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my drudge: he that comforts
    my wife is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he                45
    that cherishes my flesh and blood loves my flesh and blood;
    he that loves my flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that
    kisses my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to
    be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young
    Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the papist, howsome'er         50
    their hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one;
    they may joul horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

    _Count._ Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious
    knave?

    _Clo._ A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the              55
    next way:

      For I the ballad will repeat,
        Which men full true shall find;
      Your marriage comes by destiny,
        Your cuckoo sings by kind.                                    60

    _Count._ Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon.

    _Stew._ May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen
    come to you: of her I am to speak.

    _Count._ Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with
    her; Helen I mean.                                                65

    _Clo._

      Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,
        Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
      Fond done, done fond,
        Was this King Priam's joy?
      With that she sighed as she stood,                              70
      With that she sighed as she stood,
        And gave this sentence then;
      Among nine bad if one be good,
      Among nine bad if one be good,
        There's yet one good in ten.                                  75

    _Count._ What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song,
    sirrah.

    _Clo._ One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying
    o' the song: would God would serve the world so all
    the year! we'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, if I were      80
    the parson: one in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good
    woman born but one every blazing star, or at an earth-quake,
    'twould mend the lottery well: a man may draw his
    heart out, ere a' pluck one.

    _Count._ You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command           85
    you.

    _Clo._ That man should be at woman's command, and
    yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it
    will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over
    the black gown of a big heart. I am going, forsooth: the          90
    business is for Helen to come hither.               [_Exit._

    _Count._ Well, now.

    _Stew._ I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman
    entirely.

    _Count._ Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me;            95
    and she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully make
    title to as much love as she finds: there is more owing her
    than is paid; and more shall be paid her than she'll demand.

    _Stew._ Madam, I was very late more near her than I
    think she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate          100
    to herself her own words to her own ears; she thought, I
    dare vow for her, they touched not any stranger sense. Her
    matter was, she loved your son: Fortune, she said, was no
    goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two
    estates; Love no god, that would not extend his might,           105
    only where qualities were level; ... queen of virgins, that
    would suffer her poor knight surprised, without rescue in
    the first assault, or ransom afterward. This she delivered
    in the most bitter touch of sorrow that e'er I heard virgin
    exclaim in: which I held my duty speedily to acquaint you        110
    withal; sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns
    you something to know it.

    _Count._ You have discharged this honestly; keep it to
    yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this before,
    which hung so tottering in the balance, that I could neither     115
    believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, leave me: stall this in
    your bosom; and I thank you for your honest care: I will
    speak with you further anon.                [_Exit Steward._

_Enter_ HELENA.

    Even so it was with me when I was young:
      If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn            120
    Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;
      Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;
    It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
    Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:
    By our remembrances of days foregone,                            125
    Such were our faults, or then we thought them none.
    Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now.

    _Hel._ What is your pleasure, madam?

    _Count._                     You know, Helen,
    I am a mother to you.

    _Hel._ Mine honourable mistress.

    _Count._                     Nay, a mother:                      130
    Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,'
    Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,'
    That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
    And put you in the catalogue of those
    That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen                         135
    Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds
    A native slip to us from foreign seeds:
    You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
    Yet I express to you a mother's care:
    God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood                      140
    To say I am thy mother? What's the matter,
    That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
    The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
    Why? that you are my daughter?

    _Hel._                       That I am not.

    _Count._ I say, I am your mother.

    _Hel._                       Pardon, madam;                      145
    The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
    I am from humble, he from honour'd name;
    No note upon my parents, his all noble:
    My master, my dear lord he is; and I
    His servant live, and will his vassal die:                       150
    He must not be my brother.

    _Count._                     Nor I your mother?

    _Hel._ You are my mother, madam; would you were,--
    So that my lord your son were not my brother,--
    Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers,
    I care no more for than I do for heaven,                         155
    So I were not his sister. Can't no other,
    But I your daughter, he must be my brother?

    _Count._ Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law:
    God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother
    So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?                     160
    My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see
    The mystery of your loneliness, and find
    Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross
    You love my son; invention is ashamed,
    Against the proclamation of thy passion,                         165
    To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true;
    But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look, thy cheeks
    Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes
    See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours,
    That in their kind they speak it: only sin                       170
    And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
    That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so?
    If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
    If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
    As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,                      175
    To tell me truly.

    _Hel._                     Good madam, pardon me!

    _Count._ Do you love my son?

    _Hel._                     Your pardon, noble mistress!

    _Count._ Love you my son?

    _Hel._                     Do not you love him, madam?

    _Count._ Go not about; my love hath in't a bond,
    Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose               180
    The state of your affection; for your passions
    Have to the full appeach'd.

    _Hel._                    Then, I confess,
    Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
    That before you, and next unto high heaven,
    I love your son.                   185
    My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love:
    Be not offended; for it hurts not him
    That he is loved of me: I follow him not
    By any token of presumptuous suit;
    Nor would I have him till I do deserve him;                      190
    Yet never know how that desert should be.
    I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
    Yet, in this captious and intenible sieve,
    I still pour in the waters of my love,
    And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like,                   195
    Religious in mine error, I adore
    The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
    But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
    Let not your hate encounter with my love
    For loving where you do: but if yourself,                        200
    Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
    Did ever in so true a flame of liking
    Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
    Was both herself and love; O, then, give pity
    To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose                  205
    But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
    That seeks not to find that her search implies,
    But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies!

    _Count._ Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,--
    To go to Paris?

    _Hel._                    Madam, I had.

    _Count._                  Wherefore? tell true.                  210

    _Hel._ I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear.
    You know my father left me some prescriptions
    Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
    And manifest experience had collected
    For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me                   215
    In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them,
    As notes, whose faculties inclusive were,
    More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
    There is a remedy, approved, set down,
    To cure the desperate languishings whereof                       220
    The king is render'd lost.

    _Count._                  This was your motive
    For Paris, was it? speak.

    _Hel._ My lord your son made me to think of this;
    Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king,
    Had from the conversation of my thoughts                         225
    Haply been absent then.

    _Count._                  But think you, Helen,
    If you should tender your supposed aid,
    He would receive it? he and his physicians
    Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him,
    They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit               230
    A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
    Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
    The danger to itself?

    _Hel._                    There's something in't,
    More than my father's skill, which was the greatest
    Of his profession, that his good receipt                         235
    Shall for my legacy be sanctified
    By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour
    But give me leave to try success, I'd venture
    The well-lost life of mine on his Grace's cure
    By such a day and hour.

    _Count._                  Dost them believe't?                   240

    _Hel._ Ay, madam, knowingly.

    _Count._ Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,
    Means and attendants and my loving greetings
    To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home
    And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:                        245
    Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
    What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.     [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [1] _hear; what say you_] Theobald. _heare, what say you_ Ff. _hear
  what you say_ Capell.

  _gentlewoman?_] F4. _gentlewoman._ F1 F2 F3.

  [3] _even_] _win_ Collier conj.

  [6] _foul_] _out_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [10] _'tis_] _it is_ S. Walker conj., reading lines 9-12 as verse,
  ending _complaints ... believe ... them ... make ... yours._

  [12] _yours_] _yare_ Warburton conj.

  [13] _I am_] _that I am_ Capell.

  [17] _may have_] F1. _have_ F2 F3 F4.

  [18] _to go to_] _to go into_ Long MS.

  [18, 19] _the woman_] _your woman_ Grant White.

  [19] _and I will_] F2 F3 F4. _and w will_ F1. _and we will_ Collier.

  [25] _o'_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a_ Ff. _of_ Rann.

  _barnes_] F1. _bearns_ F2. _barns_ F3 F4.

  [38] _out o'_] Capell. _out a_ F1 F2 F3. _out of_ F4.

  [41] _You're_] Capell. _Y'are_ Ff. _You are_ Steevens.

  _madam, in_] _madam; e'en_ Hanmer. _madam, my_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [42] _aweary_] _weary_ Rowe.

  [43] _to in_] F4. _to Inne_ F1 F2 F3.

  [46] _cherishes_] F1. _cherisheth_ F2 F3 F4.

  [50] _Charbon ... Poysam_] See note (III).

  _howsome'er_] _how somere_ F1 F2. _howsomeere_ F3. _howsomere_ F4.
  _howsoe'er_ Pope.

  [57-60] _For I ... kind_] Printed as verse first in Rowe (ed. 2).

  [66] _the cause, quoth she_] _quoth she, the cause_ Collier (Collier
  MS.).

  [68] _Fond done, done fond_] omitted by Pope.

  [68, 69] _done find ... joy?_] _done, fond ... joy,_ F1 F2. _fond
  done;--for Paris he ... joy._ Theobald (Warburton). _fond done! but
  Paris he ... joy,_ Capell conj. _done fond, good sooth, it was: ...
  joy?_ Collier (Collier MS.). _For it undone, undone, quoth he, ...
  joy._ Rann (Heath conj.).

  [70, 71] _With ... stood_] _With ... stood,_ bis. Ff (bis in
  italics).

  [71] Omitted by Pope.

  [72-75] _And gave ... ten_] Printed first as verse in Rowe (ed. 2).

  [73, 74] _one_] _none_ Capell conj.

  [74] Omitted by Pope.

  [78] _a_] F1 F2. _the_ F3 F4.

  [79] _o' the_] Capell. _o' th'_ Rowe (ed. 2). _ath'_ F1 F2. _a'th_ F3
  F4.

  _song_] _song and mending of the sex_ Collier (Collier MS. _o' the_).

  [82] _one_] Collier (Collier MS.). _ore_ F1 F2. _o're_ F3 F4. _o'er_
  Rowe. om. Pope. _or_ Capell. _on_ Rann. _ere_ Collier (ed. 1). _for_
  Harness. _'fore_ Staunton. _at_ Halliwell conj.

  [83] _well_] _wheel_ Malone conj.

  _draw_] _pray_ Rowe.

  [84] _a'_] _he_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [86] _you._] Pope, _you?_ Ff.

  [87] _woman's_] F1. _a woman's_ F2 F3 F4.

  [87, 88] _and yet_] F1 F2. _and get_ F3 F4.

  [88] _no puritan_] _a puritan_ Rann. (Tyrwhitt conj.).

  [89] _do no hurt_] _do what is enjoined_ Malone conj.

  [96] _advantage_] _advantages_ Rowe.

  [105] _would_] _should_ Capell.

  _not_] om. Long MS.

  _might, only_] F4. _might onelie,_ F1 F2. _might onely_ F3.

  [106] _level; ... queen_] _levell, Queene_ F1 F2. _levell: Queen_
  F3F4. _level: Complain'd against the Queen_ Rowe. _level; Diana no
  queen_ Theobald. See note (IV).

  [107] _knight_] _spright_ Warburton conj.

  _surprised_] _to be surpris'd_ Rowe.

  [107, 108] _without rescue in the first assault,_] _in the first
  assault, without rescue_ Capell.

  [109] _virgin_] _a virgin_ Pope.

  [110] _held_] _held it_ Rowe.

  [113] _honestly_] _honesty_ F3 F4.

  [115] _neither_] F1. _never_ F2 F3 F4.

  [118] Enter H.] Enter Hellen. Ff. Enter H. Singer (after line 126).
  See note (V).

  [119] SCENE VII. Pope.

  _Even_] Old Cou. _Even_ Ff.

  [120] _ever_] om. Pope. _e'er_ Edd. conj.

  [126] _Such were our faults, or_] Ff. _Such-were our faults, tho'_
  Hanmer. _Such were our faults,--O!_ Johnson (Warburton conj.). _Search
  we out faults, for_ Collier MS.

  _then ... them_] _them ... then_ Staunton.

  [128] _You know, Helen_] _Helen, you know_ Pope.

  [130, 131] _Nay ... said 'a mother'_] As one line in Ff.

  [131] _said 'a mother'_] _said mother_ F3 F4.

  [133] _I am_] Ff. _I'm_ Pope.

  [137] _seeds_] _soil_ Anon. conj.

  [143] _The_] _This_ S. Walker conj.

  _eye_] _eyes_ Pope.

  [144] _Why?_] --_Why_, Ff. _Why_,-- Rowe.

  _are_] _art_ F2.

  [151] _mother?_] Rowe (ed. 2). _mother._ Ff.

  [155] _I care ... heaven_] _I cannot ask for more than that of heav'n_
  Hanmer. _I can no more fear, than I do fear heav'n_ Warburton. _I
  cannot more fear than I do fear heav'n_ Heath conj. _I'd care no more
  for't than I do for heaven_ Capell. _I care would ... heaven or I
  crave would ... heaven_ Mason conj. _I care no more for than you do,
  'fore heaven_ Becker conj. [Aside] _I care no more for than I do for
  heaven_ Staunton conj.

  [156, 157] _Can't no other, But I ... he ... brother?_] Theobald.
  _Cant no other, But I ... he ... brother._ Ff. _Can't no other? But I
  ... he ... brother._ Pope. _Can't be no other Way I ... but he ...
  brother?_ Hanmer.

  [162] _loneliness_] Theobald. _loveliness_ Ff. _lowliness_ Hall conj.
  _liveliness_ Becket conj.]

  [168] _th' one to th'_] Knight. _'ton tooth to th'_ F1. _'ton to th'_
  F2. _'tone to th'_ F3 F4. _one to th'_ Rowe.

  [169] _it_] _it is_ F2.

  _behaviours_] _behaviour_ F3 F4.

  [173] _you have_] _you've_ Pope.

  [175] _thine_] F1. _mine_ F2 F3 F4.

  [176] _truly_] _true_ Hanmer.

  [180] _disclose_] F3 F4. _disclose:_ F1 F2.

  [184] _heaven_] F1. _heavens_ F2 F3 F4.

  [184, 185] _That ... son_] As in Pope. Printed as one line in Ff.

  [193] _captious_] _carious_ Johnson conj. _cap'cious_ Farmer conj.
  _copious_ Jackson conj.

  _intenible_] _intemible_ F1. _inteemible_ Nicholson conj.

  [194] _waters_] _water_ Rowe.

  [195] _lose_] F4. _loose_ F1 F2 F3. _love_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [202] _liking_] F1. _living_ F2. _loving_ F3 F4.

  [203] _Wish ... dearly_] _Love dearly and wish chastely_ Malone conj.

  [205] _that_] _she_ Hanmer.

  [207] _her_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4. _which_ Rowe.

  [210] _tell true_] om. Steevens conj.

  [211] _tell truth_] F1. _tell true_ F2 F3 F4. _tell you true_ Capell
  (corrected in note).

  [214] _manifest_] _manifold_ Collier (Long MS.).

  [220] _languishings_ Ff. _languishes_ Reed (1803).

  [226] _Haply_] Pope. _Happily_ Ff.

  [229] _that they cannot help him_] _that he can't be help'd_ Hanmer.
  _that they cannot help_ Capell conj. _that they cannot heal him_ S.
  Walker conj.

  [230] _cannot help_] _can't help him_ Capell conj. _cannot cure_
  Bailey conj.

  [233] _in't_] _hints_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [237] _By the_] _Byth'_ F1 F2 F3. _By th'_ F4.

  [238] _to try_] F1. _to_ F2 F3 F4. _for the_ Rowe.

  [239] _The_] _This_ Hanmer.

  _on his_] _on's_ S. Walker conj.

  [240] _and_] _an_ F1.

  [243] _attendants_] _attendance_ S. Walker conj.

  [245] _into_] F1 F2. _unto_ F3 F4. _upon_ Hanmer.

  [246] _Be gone_] F3 F4. _Begon_ F1 F2.




ACT II.

SCENE I. _Paris._ _The_ KING'S _palace_.


_Flourish of cornets. Enter the_ KING, _attended with divers young_
Lords _taking leave for the Florentine war_; BERTRAM, _and_ PAROLLES.

    _King._ Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles
    Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell:
    Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all
    The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,
    And is enough for both.

    _First Lord._             'Tis our hope, sir,                      5
    After well-enter'd soldiers, to return
    And find your Grace in health.

    _King._ No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
    Will not confess he owes the malady
    That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords;                 10
    Whether I live or die, be you the sons
    Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,--
    Those bated that inherit but the fall
    Of the last monarchy,--see that you come
    Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when                            15
    The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
    That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.

    _Sec. Lord._ Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty!

    _King._ Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
    They say, our French lack language to deny,                       20
    If they demand: beware of being captives,
    Before you serve.

    _Both._               Our hearts receive your warnings.

    _King._ Farewell. Come hither to me.                [_Exit._

    _First Lord._ O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!

    _Par._ 'Tis not his fault, the spark.

    _Sec. Lord._              O, 'tis brave wars!                     25

    _Par._ Most admirable: I have seen those wars.

    _Ber._ I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
    'Too young,' and 'the next year,' and ''tis too early.'

    _Par._ An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely.

    _Ber._ I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,                30
    Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
    Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn
    But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away.

    _First Lord._ There's honour in the theft.

    _Par._                    Commit it, count.

    _Sec. Lord._ I am your accessary; and so, farewell.               35

    _Ber._ I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.

    _First Lord._ Farewell, captain.

    _Sec. Lord._ Sweet Monsieur Parolles!

    _Par._ Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good
    sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall find          40
    in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain Spurio, with his
    cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it
    was this very sword entrenched it: say to him, I live; and
    observe his reports for me.

    _First Lord._ We shall, noble captain.      [_Exeunt Lords._      45


    _Par._ Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?

    _Ber._ Stay: the king.

_Re-enter_ KING.

    _Par._ [_Aside to Ber._] Use a more spacious ceremony to
    the noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the list
    of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them: for they        50
    wear themselves in the cap of the time, there do muster true
    gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received
    star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are
    to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.

    _Ber._ And I will do so.                                          55

    _Par._ Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy
    sword-men.                   [_Exeunt Bertram and Parolles._

    _Enter_ LAFEU.

    _Laf._ [_Kneeling_] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.

    _King._ I'll fee thee to stand up.

    _Laf._ Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon.     60
    I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy;
    And that at my bidding you could so stand up.

    _King._ I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,
    And ask'd thee mercy for't.

    _Laf._ Good faith, across: but, my good lord, 'tis thus;          65
    Will you be cured of your infirmity?

    _King._ No.

    _Laf._ O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?
    Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if
    My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine             70
    That's able to breathe life into a stone,
    Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
    With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch
    Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay,
    To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand,                         75
    And write to her a love-line.

    _King._                   What 'her' is this?

    _Laf._ Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived,
    If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour,
    If seriously I may convey my thoughts
    In this my light deliverance, I have spoke                        80
    With one that, in her sex, her years, profession,
    Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more
    Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her,
    For that is her demand, and know her business?
    That done, laugh well at me.

    _King._                   Now, good Lafeu,                        85
    Bring in the admiration; that we with thee
    May spend our wonder too, or take off thine
    By wondering how thou took'st it.

    _Laf._                    Nay, I'll fit you,
    And not be all day neither.                         [_Exit._

    _King._ Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.               90

_Re-enter_ LAFEU, _with_ HELENA.

    _Laf._ Nay, come your ways.

    _King._                       This haste hath wings indeed.

    _Laf._ Nay, come your ways;
    This is his majesty, say your mind to him:
    A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
    His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle,                   95
    That dare leave two together; fare you well.        [_Exit._

    _King._ Now, fair one, does your business follow us?

    _Hel._ Ay, my good lord.
    Gerard de Narbon was my father;
    In what he did profess, well found.

    _King._                   I knew him.                            100

    _Hel._ The rather will I spare my praises towards him;
    Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death
    Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
    Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
    And of his old experience the only darling,                      105
    He bade me store up, as a triple eye,
    Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so:
    And, hearing your high majesty is touch'd
    With that malignant cause, wherein the honour
    Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,                  110
    I come to tender it and my appliance,
    With all bound humbleness.

    _King._                   We thank you, maiden;
    But may not be so credulous of cure,
    When our most learned doctors leave us, and
    The congregated college have concluded                           115
    That labouring art can never ransom nature
    From her inaidible estate; I say we must not
    So stain our judgement, or corrupt our hope.
    To prostitute our past-cure malady
    To empirics, or to dissever so                                   120
    Our great self and our credit, to esteem
    A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.

    _Hel._ My duty, then, shall pay me for my pains:
    I will no more enforce mine office on you;
    Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts                       125
    A modest one, to bear me back again.

    _King._ I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful:
    Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give
    As one near death to those that wish him live:
    But, what at full I know, thou know'st no part;                  130
    I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

    _Hel._ What I can do can do no hurt to try,
    Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy
    He that of greatest works is finisher,
    Oft does them by the weakest minister:                           135
    So holy writ in babes hath judgement shown,
    When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
    From simple sources; and great seas have dried,
    When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
    Oft expectation fails, and most oft there                        140
    Where most it promises; and oft it hits
    Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

    _King._ I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
    Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid:
    Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.                  145

    _Hel._ Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:
    It is not so with Him that all things knows,
    As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows;
    But most it is presumption in us when
    The help of heaven we count the act of men.                      150
    Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
    Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
    I am not an impostor, that proclaim
    Myself against the level of mine aim;
    But know I think, and think I know most sure,                    155
    My art is not past power, nor you past cure.

    _King._ Art thou so confident? within what space
    Hopest thou my cure?

    _Hel._                  The great'st grace lending grace,
    Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
    Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;                            160
    Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
    Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp;
    Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
    Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass;
    What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,                  165
    Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

    _King._ Upon thy certainty and confidence
    What darest thou venture?

    _Hel._                        Tax of impudence,
    A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame
    Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name                     170
    Sear'd otherwise, ne worse of worst extended,
    With vilest torture let my life be ended.

    _King._ Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak
    His powerful sound within an organ weak:
    And what impossibility would slay                                175
    In common sense, sense saves another way.
    Thy life is dear; for all, that life can rate
    Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate,
    Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
    That happiness and prime can happy call:                         180
    Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
    Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
    Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
    That ministers thine own death if I die.

    _Hel._ If I break time, or flinch in property                    185
    Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
    And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee;
    But, if I help, what do you promise me?

    _King._ Make thy demand.

    _Hel._                    But will you make it even?

    _King._ Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.                190

    _Hel._ Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
    What husband in thy power I will command:
    Exempted be from me the arrogance
    To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
    My low and humble name to propagate                              195
    With any branch or image of thy state;
    But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
    Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

    _King._ Here is my hand; the premises observed,
    Thy will by my performance shall be served:                      200
    So make the choice of thy own time; for I,
    Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely.
    More should I question thee, and more I must,
    Though more to know could not be more to trust,
    From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest                 205
    Unquestion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.
    Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed
    As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.
                                            [_Flourish. Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  ACT II.] Actus Secundus. Ff (Sæcundus F2).

  Enter ... attended....] Capell. Enter ... warre: Count Rosse, and
  Parolles. Florish Cornets. Ff.

  divers] two Hanmer. om. Steevens.

  [1, 2] _lords ... lords_] Ff. _lord ... lord_ Hanmer. See note (VI).

  [2] _and you_] _you_ Pope.

  [3] _both gain, all_] Ff. _both gain,_ Pope, _both gain, well!_
  Hanmer. _both gain all,_ Johnson. _back again,_ Jackson conj. _both
  gain, All_ Anon. conj. See note (VII).

  [5] First Lord] i. Lord. Rowe. Lord G. Ff.

  _'Tis_] Ff. _It is_ Steevens.

  [9] _he owes_] _it owns_ Pope. _he owns_ Long MS.

  [12] _higher_] _hired_ Coleridge conj.

  [13] _bated_] _bastards_ Hanmer. _'bated ones_ Capell conj.

  [15, 16] _wed it; when ... shrinks,_] Pope, _wed it, when ...
  shrinkes:_ F1 F2 F3. _wed it, when ... shrinks;_ F4.

  [16] _questant_] F1. _question_ F2 F3 F4. _questor_ Collier MS.

  [18] Sec. Lord.] 2. Lord Rowe (ed. 2). L. G. Ff. 1. Lord Rowe (ed.
  1).

  [22] Both.] Rowe. Bo. Ff.

  [23] _Come ... me_] _Come ... me_ [to Bert.] Pope. om. Hanmer. _Come
  ... me_ [to Attendants]. Theobald.

  Exit.] Pope. om. Ff. Retires to a Couch; Attendants leading him.
  Capell. See note (VIII).

  [24, 34, 37] First Lord.] 1. Lord. Rowe. 1. Lo. G. Ff.

  [25] _fault, the spark._] F3 F4. _fault the spark._ F1 F2. _fault, the
  spark_-- Rowe. _fault; the spark_-- Theobald.]

  [25, 35, 38] Sec. Lord.] 2. Lord. Rowe. 2. Lo. E. Ff.

  [27] _a coil_] _acoyle_ F2.

  [27, 28] _with 'Too young'_] Pope. _with, Too young_ Ff. _with; 'Too
  young'_ Capell.

  [29] _An ... to't, boy, ... bravely_] Theobald. _And ... too't boy,
  Steale away bravely_ F1 F2 F3. _And ... to it ..._ F4. _And thy
  mind--stand to it, boy; steal away bravely._ Pope.

  [30] _I shall stay_] _I stay_ Rowe. _Shall I stay_ Pope.

  [36] _I ... our ... a tortured body_] _I ... this our ... A tortur'd
  body_ Hanmer. _I ... our ... the parting of a tortured body_ Johnson
  conj. _I ... our ... a torture_ Capell. _I ... our ... as a tortured
  body_ S. Walker conj., reading lines 34-37 _Commit ... captain._ as
  three lines, ending _accessary ... parting ... captain._

  _to you_] _t' ye_ S. Walker conj.

  [37] _captain_] _worthy captain_ Hanmer.

  [39] _yours_] _yours_ [measuring swords with them] Capell.

  [40. _a word_] _in a word_ Long MS.

  [41, 42] _with his cicatrice, an emblem_] Theobald. _his cicatrice,
  with an emblem_ Ff (_sicatrice_ F1). _he's cicatriced with an emblem_
  Rann conj.

  [44] _for_] F1 F2. _of_ F3 F4.

  [45] First Lord.] 1. Lord. Rowe. Lo. G. F1 F2. L.G. F3 F4. 2. Lord.
  Warburton. Both. Edd. conj.

  [46] _novices! what will ye do?_] _novices, what will ye do?_ Ff
  (_doe_ F1 F2). See note (IX).

  _ye_] _you_ Hanmer.

  [47] _Stay: the king._] F2 F3 F4. _Stay the king._ F1. _Stay; the
  king--_ Pope. _Stay with the king_ Grant White (Collier conj.).

  Re-enter King.] Edd. See note (VIII).

  [51] _there do muster_] _there, to muster_ Warburton. _they do muster
  with the_ Johnson conj. _there do master_ Heath conj. _they do master_
  Collier conj. _there demonstrate_ Anon. conj.

  [51, 52] _there ... gait_] _do muster your true gaité_ Becket conj.
  om. Collier MS.

  _true gait_] _together_ Hanmer.

  [52] _eat_] _dress_ Hanmer. _they eat_ Singer conj.

  _move_] F1. _more_ F2 F3 F4.

  [57] Exeunt B. and P.] Exeunt. Ff.

  [58] SCENE II. Pope.

  Enter L.] Enter the King and L. Pope. Enter L. hastily. Capell.

  Kneeling] Johnson, om. Ff.]

  [59] _I'll fee_] Theobald. _Ile see_ Ff. _I'll sue_ Staunton. _I'll
  free_ Anon. ap. Halliwell conj. _I beseech_ Keightley conj.

  [59-62] Capell ends the lines _man ... I would you ... mercy; and ...
  up._

  [60] _has_] F1. _hath_ F2 F3 F4.

  _brought_] Ff. _bought_ Theobald.

  [63, 64] _I would ... for't_] _You would ... for't?_ Anon. conj.

  [64-70. Capell ends the lines _across: ... cur'd ... eat ... will ...
  fox ... medicine._

  [65] _across_] _a cross_ F4.

  [69] _my noble grapes_] omitted by Hanmer, ending the line at _fox.
  aye, noble grapes_ Collier MS.

  [70] _seen a medicine_] _seen A medicine_ Anon. conj.

  _medicine_] _med'cin_ (in italics) Theobald. _medecin_ Steevens.

  [74] _araise_] _raise_ Pope. _upraise_ Collier MS.

  _Pepin_] Theobald. _Pippen_ Ff.

  [75] _To give_] _And give_ Capell.

  _in's_] _in his_ Capell. Malone supposes a line to be lost after
  this.

  [76] _And write_] _To write_ Hanmer. _And cause him write_ Singer
  conj.

  _to her a love-line_] _a love-line to her_ Hanmer.

  [77] _Doctor She_] Grant White. _doctor she_ Ff. _Doctor-she_
  Theobald.

  [79] _convey_] _convay_ F1. _convoy_ F2 F3 F4.

  [83] _Than ... weakness_] _Than_ (_blame my weakness_) _I dare_--
  Becket conj.

  _blame_] _blaze_ Theobald conj.

  [89] Exit] Theobald. om. Ff.

  [90] _nothing_] _nothings_ Hanmer.

  Re-enter L. with H.] Enter Hellen. Ff (after line 91 _come your
  ways_).

  [91] Laf. _Nay, ... ways_] Laf. [Returns.] _Nay ... ways_ [Bringing in
  Helena. Theobald.

  [95] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [96] Exit] Ff. Exit. Attendants retire. Capell. See note (VIII).

  [97] SCENE III.] Pope.

  [98-100] _Ay ... him_] As in Ff. As three lines, ending _was ... found
  ... him._ Hanmer. As two, ending _father ... him._ Capell.

  [99] _Gerard de Narbon_] _Gerardo of Narbona_ Anon. conj.

  [100] _In_] _One in_ S. Walker conj.

  [101] _praises_] _praise_ Theobald.

  [102] _On's_] _On his_ Capell.

  [103] _receipts_] Rowe. _receits_ Ff.

  [105] _the_] _th'_ Ff.

  [107] _two, more dear_] Steevens. _two: dear_ Ff.

  [109, 110] _honour ... power_] _power ...honour_ Rann (Johnson
  conj.).

  [116] _ransom_] _answer_ Steevens (1778).

  [117] _inaidible_] _inaydible_ F1 F2. _unaydible_ F3 F4. _unaidable_
  Rowe. _inaidable_ Capell.

  _estate_] _state_ S. Walker conj.

  _I say_] om. Pope.

  [118] _stain_] _strain_ Anon. conj.

  [124] _mine_] F1. _my_ F2 F3 F4.

  [139] _miracles ... greatest_] _miracles ... great'st_ Ff. _mir'cles
  ... greatest_ Theobald. Johnson supposes a line lost after this.

  [142] _fits_] Collier (Theobald conj.). _shifts_ Ff. _sits_ Pope. See
  note (X).

  [153] _impostor_] F3 F4. _impostrue_ F1 F2. _imposture_ Capell.

  [158] _The great'st grace lending_] Capell. _The greatest grace
  lending_ Ff. _The Greatest lending_ Rowe.

  [162] _his_] Rowe. _her_ Ff.

  [169, 170] _shame ... ballads: my maidens name_] Ff. _shame; ...
  ballads my maiden's name,_ Theobald conj. _shame; ... ballads: my
  maiden's name_ Id. conj. _shame, ... ballads my maiden name_ Johnson
  conj.

  [171] _Sear'd otherwise, ne worse of ...]_ F1. _Seard otherwise, no
  worse of ..._ F2 F3 F4. _Sear'd otherwise no worse of worst: extended_
  Theobald conj. _Sear'd, otherwise no worse of worst extended;_ Id.
  conj. _Sear'd: otherwise, the worst of ..._ Hanmer. _Sear'd otherwise,
  to worst of ..._ Johnson conj. _Fear otherwise to worst of ..._ Id.
  conj. _Sear'd; otherwise the worst to ..._ Id. conj. _Fear, otherwise,
  to worst of worse_ Heath conj. _Sear'd otherwise; or, worse to ..._
  Capell. _Seard otherwise, as worse of ..._ Long MS. _Fear'd o' the
  wise no worse if ..._ Mason conj. _Sear'd otherwise; nay, worst of
  ..._ Malone conj. _Scar'd otherwise; the worst of ..._ Id. conj.
  _Sear'd otherwise; the worst of ..._ Rann. _Sear'd otherwise; nay,
  worse of ..._ Singer.

  _ne ... extended_] _and worse, if worse, attended_ Becket conj. _and,
  worse of worst expended_ Staunton conj. _on worst of racks extended_
  Anon. conj. _nay, worse, if worse, extended_ Anon. conj.

  [173, 174] _speak His powerful sound_] _speak, It powerful sounds_
  Hanmer. _speak: His power full sounds_ Warburton. _O powerful sound_
  Becket conj. (transposing lines 173, 174.)

  [174] _within_] F1. _wherein_ F2 F3 F4.

  [179] _courage_] _courage, virtue_ Theobald. _courage, honour_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  [180] _and prime_] _and pride_ Tyrwhitt conj. _in prime_ Rann (Mason
  conj.).

  [190] _heaven_] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). _helpe_ F1 F2. _help_ F3
  F4.

  [196] _image_] _impage_ Warburton.

  [201] _make the_] _make thee_ Anon. conj.

  _thy_] F1. _thine_ F2 F3 F4.

  [208] _thy deed_] _thy meed_ Anon. conj.

  [Flourish. Exeunt.] Florish. Exit. F1. Exeunt. F2 F3 F4.


SCENE II. _Rousillon._ _The_ COUNT'S _palace_.

_Enter_ COUNTESS _and_ CLOWN.

    _Count._ Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height
    of your breeding.

    _Clo._ I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I
    know my business is but to the court.

    COUNT. To the court! why, what place make you special,             5
    when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court!

    _Clo._ Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners,
    he may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make
    a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has
    neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow,     10
    to say precisely, were not for the court; but for me, I have
    an answer will serve all men.

    _Count._ Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all
    questions.

    _Clo._ It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks, the   15
    pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any
    buttock.

    _Count._ Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

    _Clo._ As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney,
    as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's rush         20
    for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a
    morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his
    horn, as a scolding quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's
    lip to the friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin.

    _Count._ Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for           25
    all questions?

    _Clo._ From below your duke to beneath your constable,
    it will fit any question.

    _Count._ It must be an answer of most monstrous size
    that must fit all demands.                                        30

    _Clo._ But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned
    should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that belongs to't.
    Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall do you no harm to learn.

    _Count._ To be young again, if we could: I will be a
    fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer.          35
    I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?

    _Clo._ O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More,
    more, a hundred of them.

    _Count._ Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.

    _Clo._ O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me.                   40

    _Count._ I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.

    _Clo._ O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.

    _Count._ You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.

    _Clo._ O Lord, sir! spare not me.

    _Count._ Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping,             45
    and 'spare not me'? Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very
    sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well to
    a whipping, if you were but bound to't.

    _Clo._ I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord,
    sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.            50

    _Count._ I play the noble housewife with the time,
    To entertain 't so merrily with a fool.

    _Clo._ O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.

    _Count._ An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this,
    And urge her to a present answer back:                            55
    Commend me to my kinsmen and my son:
    This is not much.

    _Clo._ Not much commendation to them.

    _Count._ Not much employment for you: you understand
    me?                                                               60

    _Clo._ Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs.

    _Count._ Haste you again.               [_Exeunt severally._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [1. Count.] Lady. Ff (and Lady. or La. throughout the scene).

  [5] _To the court_] _But to the court_ Theobald.

  [6] _contempt? ... court!_] Pope. _contempt, ... Court?_ Ff.

  [11] _court; but for me,_] Rowe. _court, but for me,_ Ff. _court, but
  for me:_ Pope.

  [18] _serve fit_] _sir, fit_ Anon. conj. _fit_ Anon. conj.

  [20, 21] _Tib's ... Tom's_] _Tom's ... Tib's_ Hawkins conj.

  [36] _I pray ..._] F3. La. _I pray ..._ F1 F2. Lady. _I pray ..._ F4.

  [50] _but_] _and_ Hanmer.

  [51, 52] Printed as prose in Ff. As verse first by Knight.

  [51] _housewife_] _huswife_ Ff.

  [52] _entertain 't_] Edd. (S. Walker conj.). _entertain it_ Ff.

  [54] _An end, sir; to_] Rowe (ed. 2). _And end sir to_ F1 F2. _And
  end; sir to_ F3 F4.

  [57] _is not_] _isn't_ Hanmer.

  [62] [Exeunt severally] Capell. Exeunt. Ff.


SCENE III. _Paris._ _The_ KING'S _palace_.

_Enter_ BERTRAM, LAFEU, _and_ PAROLLES.

    _Laf._ They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical
    persons, to make modern and familiar, things supernatural
    and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles
    of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge,
    when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.                5

    _Par._ Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that
    hath shot out in our latter times.

    _Ber._ And so 'tis.

    _Laf._ To be relinquished of the artists,--

    _Par._ So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.                    10

    _Laf._ Of all the learned and authentic fellows,--

    _Par._ Right; so I say.

    _Laf._ That gave him out incurable,--

    _Par._ Why, there 'tis; so say I too.

    _Laf._ Not to be helped,--                                        15

    _Par._ Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a--

    _Laf._ Uncertain life, and sure death.

    _Par._ Just, you say well; so would I have said.

    _Laf._ I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.

    _Par._ It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you         20
    shall read it in--what do ye call there?

    _Laf._ A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.

    _Par._ That's it; I would have said the very same.

    _Laf._ Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, I
    speak in respect--                                                25

    _Par._ Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief
    and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinerious spirit
    that will not acknowledge it to be the--

    _Laf._ Very hand of heaven.

    _Par._ Ay, so I say.                                              30

    _Laf._ In a most weak--

    _Par._ And debile minister, great power, great transcendence:
    which should, indeed, give us a further use to be
    made than alone the recovery of the king, as to be--

    _Laf._ Generally thankful.                                        35

    _Par._ I would have said it; you say well. Here comes
    the king.

_Enter_ KING, HELENA, _and_ Attendants.

    _Laf._ Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid
    the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's
    able to lead her a coranto.                                       40

    _Par._ Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen?

    _Laf._ 'Fore God, I think so.

    _King._ Go, call before me all the lords in court.
    Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side;
    And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense                45
    Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
    The confirmation of my promised gift,
    Which but attends thy naming.

_Enter three or four_ Lords.

    Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
    Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,                         50
    O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice
    I have to use: thy frank election make;
    Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.

    _Hel._ To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
    Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one!                  55

    _Laf._ I'd give bay Curtal and his furniture,
    My mouth no more were broken than these boys',
    And writ as little beard.

    _King._                   Peruse them well:
    Not one of those but had a noble father.

    _Hel._ Gentlemen,                                                 60
    Heaven hath through me restored the king to health.

    _All._ We understand it, and thank heaven for you.

    _Hel._ I am a simple maid; and therein wealthiest,
    That I protest I simply am a maid.
    Please it your majesty, I have done already:                      65
    The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
    'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
    Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever;
    We'll ne'er come there again.'

    _King._                   Make choice; and, see,
    Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.                      70

    _Hel._ Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly;
    And to imperial Love, that god most high,
    Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit?

    _First Lord._ And grant it.

    _Hel._                    Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

    _Laf._ I had rather be in this choice than throw                  75
    Ames-ace for my life.

    _Hel._ The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
    Before I speak, too threateningly replies:
    Love make your fortunes twenty times above
    Her that so wishes and her humble love!                           80

    _Sec. Lord._ No better, if you please.

    _Hel._                         My wish receive,
    Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave.

    _Laf._ Do all they deny her? An they were sons of
    mine, I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to
    the Turk, to make eunuchs of.                                     85

    _Hel._ Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
    I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
    Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed
    Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!

    _Laf._ These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have              90
    her: sure, they are bastards to the English; the French
    ne'er got 'em.

    _Hel._ You are too young, too happy, and too good,
    To make yourself a son out of my blood.

    _Fourth Lord._ Fair one, I think not so.                          95

    _Laf._ There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father
    drunk wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of
    fourteen; I have known thee already.

    _Hel._ [_To Bertram_] I dare not say I take you; but I give
    Me and my service, ever whilst I live,                           100
    Into your guiding power. This is the man.

    _King._ Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.

    _Ber._ My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
    In such a business give me leave to use
    The help of mine own eyes.

    _King._                   Know'st thou not, Bertram,             105
    What she has done for me?

    _Ber._                    Yes, my good lord;
    But never hope to know why I should marry her.

    _King._ Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed.

    _Ber._ But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
    Must answer for your raising? I know her well:                   110
    She had her breeding at my father's charge.
    A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain
    Rather corrupt me ever!

    _King._ 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
    I can build up. Strange is it, that our bloods,                  115
    Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
    Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
    In differences so mighty. If she be
    All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest,
    A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest                      120
    Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
    From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
    The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
    Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,
    It is a dropsied honour. Good alone                              125
    Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
    The property by what it is should go,
    Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
    In these to nature she's immediate heir,
    And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,                  130
    Which challenges itself as honour's born,
    And is not like the sire: honours thrive,
    When rather from our acts we them derive
    Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave
    Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave                           135
    A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb
    Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
    Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
    If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
    I can create the rest: virtue and she                            140
    Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.

    _Ber._ I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.

    _King._ Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to
    choose.

    _Hel._ That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad:
    Let the rest go.                                                 145

    _King._ My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
    I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
    Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
    That dost in vile misprision shackle up
    My love and her desert; that canst not dream,                    150
    We, poising us in her defective scale,
    Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
    It is in us to plant thine honour where
    We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
    Obey our will, which travails in thy good:                       155
    Believe not thy disdain, but presently
    Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
    Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
    Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
    Into the staggers and the careless lapse                         160
    Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
    Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice,
    Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer.

    _Ber._ Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
    My fancy to your eyes: when I consider                           165
    What great creation and what dole of honour
    Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
    Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
    The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
    Is as 't were born so.

    _King._                   Take her by the hand,                  170
    And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise
    A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,
    A balance more replete.

    _Ber._                    I take her hand.

    _King._ Good fortune and the favour of the king
    Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony                         175
    Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
    And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast
    Shall more attend upon the coming space,
    Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her,
    Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.                      180
                           [_Exeunt all but Lafeu and Parolles._

    _Laf._ Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.

    _Par._ Your pleasure, sir?

    _Laf._ Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.

    _Par._ Recantation! My lord! my master!                          185

    _Laf._ Ay; is it not a language I speak?

    _Par._ A most harsh one, and not to be understood
    without bloody succeeding. My master!

    _Laf._ Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?

    _Par._ To any count, to all counts, to what is man.              190

    _Laf._ To what is count's man: count's master is of
    another style.

    _Par._ You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are
    too old.

    _Laf._ I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which           195
    title age cannot bring thee.

    _Par._ What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

    _Laf._ I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty
    wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel;
    it might pass: yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee       200
    did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of
    too great a burthen. I have now found thee; when I lose
    thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but
    taking up; and that thou'rt scarce worth.

    _Par._ Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon            205
    thee,--

    _Laf._ Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou
    hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee for
    a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee well:
    thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee.           210
    Give me thy hand.

    _Par._ My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

    _Laf._ Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.

    _Par._ I have not, my lord, deserved it.

    _Laf._ Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not         215
    bate thee a scruple.

    _Par._ Well, I shall be wiser.

    _Laf._ Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at
    a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy
    scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of      220
    thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance
    with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the
    default, he is a man I know.

    _Par._ My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.

    _Laf._ I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my           225
    poor doing eternal: for doing I am past; as I will by thee,
    in what motion age will give me leave.              [_Exit._

    _Par._ Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off
    me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient;
    there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by            230
    my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, an he were
    double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his
    age than I would have of--I'll beat him, an if I could but
    meet him again.

_Re-enter_ LAFEU.

    _Laf._ Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's           235
    news for you: you have a new mistress.

    _Par._ I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make
    some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good lord:
    whom I serve above is my master.

    _Laf._ Who? God?                                                 240

    _Par._ Ay, sir.

    _Laf._ The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou
    garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy
    sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set thy lower
    part where thy nose stands. By mine honour, if I were but        245
    two hours younger, I'd beat thee: methinks't, thou art a
    general offence, and every man should beat thee: I think
    thou wast created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.

    _Par._ This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

    _Laf._ Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a        250
    kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no
    true traveller: you are more saucy with lords and honourable
    personages than the commission of your birth and
    virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another
    word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.         [_Exit._     255

    _Par._ Good, very good; it is so then: good, very
    good; let it be concealed awhile.

_Re-enter_ BERTRAM.

    _Ber._ Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!

    _Par._ What's the matter, sweet-heart?

    _Ber._ Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,           260
    I will not bed her.

    _Par._ What, what, sweet-heart?

    _Ber._ O my Parolles, they have married me!
    I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.

    _Par._ France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits               265
    The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!

    _Ber._ There's letters from my mother: what the import
    is, I know not yet.

    _Par._ Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my
    boy, to the wars!

    He wears his honour in a box unseen,                             270
    That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home.
    Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
    Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
    Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions
    France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;                    275
    Therefore, to the war!

    _Ber._ It shall be so: I'll send her to my house,
    Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
    And wherefore I am fled; write to the king
    That which I durst not speak: his present gift                   280
    Shall furnish me to those Italian fields,
    Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife
    To the dark house and the detested wife.

    _Par._ Will this capriccio hold in thee, art sure?

    _Ber._ Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.                  285
    I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
    I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

    _Par._ Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard:
    A young man married is a man that's marr'd:
    Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:                       290
    The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so.  [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE V. Pope.

  [1] Laf.] Ol. Laf. Ff (and throughout the scene).

  _and_] _yet_ Anon. apud Halliwell.

  [2] _persons_] _person_ F3 F4. _reasons_ Long MS.

  _familiar, things_] Theobald. _familiar things_ Ff. _familiar things,_
  Steevens.

  [6] Par.] Ber. S. Walker conj.

  [7] _latter_] _later_ Hanmer.

  [8] Ber.] Par. S. Walker conj.

  [10, 11] Par. _So ... Paracelsus._ Laf. _Of all ..._] Par. _So I say._
  Laf. _Both ... Paracelsus, of all ..._ Johnson conj. Par. _So I say._
  Laf. _Both ... Paracelsus._ Par. _So I say._ Laf. _Of all ..._ Edd.
  conj.

  [11] Laf.] Ol. Laf. F1 F3 F4. Ol. Fal. F2.

  [16] _a--_] _an--_ Rowe.

  [20] _in showing_] _in shewing_ F1 F2. _in the shewing_ F3 F4. _a
  showing_ Rann (Tyrwhitt conj.).

  [23] _it; ... said the_] _it, ... said the_ F4. _it, ... said, the_ F1
  F2 F3. _it, ... said; the_ Capell.

  [24] _dolphin_] _Dauphin_ Theobald conj. (withdrawn).

  _'fore_] Capell. _fore_ F1. _for_ F2 F3 F4.

  [27] _facinerious_] Ff. _facinorous_ Steevens.

  [31-34] Laf. _In a most weak--_ Par. _And ... king, as to be_--] Laf.
  _In a most ... king._ Par. _As to be_-- Rann (Johnson conj.). Laf. _In
  ... weak_-- Par. _Ay, so I say._ Laf. _And debile ... king, as to be_
  [after a pause] _generally thankful_ Edd. conj.

  [33] _give us a further_] _give us a further_ Warburton.

  [34] _alone_] F1. _only_ F2 F3 F4.

  [36] SCENE VI. Pope.

  _say_] F1. _said_ F2 F3 F4

  [37] Enter ...] Ff (after line 35).

  [38] _Lustig_] _Lustique_ F1 F2. _Lustick_ F3 F4. _Lustigh_ Capell.

  [39] _whilst_] F1. _while_ F2 F3 F4.

  [40] _coranto_] _carranto_ Ff. _corranto_ Rowe.

  [41] _Mort du vinaigre_] _Mor du vinager_ Ff. _Mort du vainqueur_
  Collier.

  [43] Exeunt some attendants. Capell.

  [51] _sovereign_] _sovereign's_ Collier MS.

  [54, 55] _mistress Fall,_] Rowe. _mistress; Fall_ Ff.

  [54] [coming from her Seat, and addressing herself to the Lords.
  Capell.

  [55] _marry ... one!_] Par. _Marry ... one!_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [58] _writ_] _with_ Collier MS.

  [60] [She addresses her to a Lord. Ff.

  [60, 61] _Gentlemen ... health_] Arranged as in Capell. Printed as
  prose in Ff; as two lines by Theobald, ending _restor'd ... health._

  [67] _choose; but, be refused,_] Rann. _choose, but be refused;_ Ff.
  _chuse; but being refused_ Hanmer.

  [67-69] _We blush ... again_] Kin. _We blush ... again_ F3 F4.

  [68] _Let the_] _Let not_ F3 F4.

  _death_] _dearth_ Warburton conj.

  _cheek_] _cheeks_ F3 F4.

  [69] King.] om. F3 F4.

  [72] _imperial Love_] _imperiall loue_ F1. _imperiall Iove_ F2.
  _impartiall Jove_ F3. _impartial Jove_ F4. _impartial love_
  Warburton.

  [73] _stream_] _steam_ Collier MS.

  [74] _is mute_] _are mute_ Pope.

  [75] Laf.] Par. Theobald conj.

  [76] _Ames-ace_] F1 _A deaus-ace_ F2 F3 F4.

  [78] _threateningly_] _threatingly_ F2.

  [82] _Love_ F1 F2. _Jove_ F3 F4.

  [83] _all they_] _they all_ Capell conj.

  _An_] Capell. _And_ Ff. If Pope.

  [84, 85] _to the_] _to'th_ Ff.

  [89] _fairer_] _fair_ Rann. _ever_] F1. _ere_ F2 F3 F4.

  [90, 91] _have her_] _haue heere_ F1. _of her_ Rowe.

  [90-92] S. Walker would read as three lines of verse, ending _her ...
  English ... got 'em._

  [92] _'em_] _them_ Capell.

  [93] Hel.] F3 F2. La. F1 F2.

  [96, 98] Laf. _There's ... already_] Laf. _There's ... yet,_-- Par. _I
  am sure ... wine.--_ Laf. _But ... already_ Theobald.

  [96] _thy_] F1. _my_ F2 F3 F4.

  [99] [To Bertram] Rowe.

  [105, 107] _Know'st thou not ... her_] Arranged as in Pope; printed as
  prose in Ff.

  [106] _has_] _h'as_ F1 F2. _hath_ F3 F4.

  [112] _my wife! Disdain Rather_] _she my wife! Disdain rather_ Hanmer.

  [114] _only title_] _But title_ Hanmer. _only lack of title_ S. Walker
  conj.

  [116] _Of colour_] _Alike of colour_ Capell.

  [117] _stand_] Rowe (ed. 2). _stands_ Ff.

  [118] _so_] F1. _of_ F2 F3 F4. om. Long MS.

  [121] _the name_] _a name_ Collier conj.

  [122] _place when_] Theobald (Thirlby conj). _place, whence_ Ff.

  [123] _by the_] _by th'_ Ff.

  [124] _additions swell's_] F1. _addition swell's_ F2. _addition
  swells_ F3 F4. _additions swell_ Malone.

  [125] _honour._] _honour,_ Ff.

  [125, 126] _Good ... so:_] _Good a lone,_ _Is good without a name?
  Vilenesse is so:_ F1 F2. _Good alone, ... name? Vileness is so:_ F3.
  _Good alone, ... name. Vileness is so:_ F4. _good ... name, in't self
  is so:_ Hanmer. _good alone Is good; and, with a name, vileness is
  so:_ Warburton. _good alone Is good, without a name vileness is so:_
  Johnson. _Virtue alone Is good without a name; Helen is so:_ Johnson
  conj. _good alone Is good, without a name; in vileness is so_ Steevens
  conj. _good alone Is good;--without a name, vileness is so_ Mason
  conj.

  [127] _it is_] _is is_ F1.

  [128] _young_] _good_ Warburton. _sprung_ Becket conj.

  [131] _honour's born_] _honour-born_ Hanmer.

  [132] _thrive_] F1. _best thrive_ F2 F3 F4.

  [134] _word's_] F2 F3 F4. _words,_ F1.

  [135] _grave_] _grave:_ Ff.

  [137, 138] _tomb Of ... indeed._] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). _tomb. Of
  ... indeed,_ Ff.

  [146] _defeat,_] Ff. _defend_ Theobald. _defeat,_-- Id. conj.

  [155] _travails_] _trauailes_ F1. _travailes_ F2. _travells_ F3.
  _travels_ F4.

  [159] _throw_] _through_ F2.

  _care_] F1 F2. _cares_ F3 F4.

  [160] _staggers and the_] _staggering and_ Long MS.

  _the careless_] F1. _careless_ F2. _the cureless_ S. Walker conj.

  [161] _both_] om. Theobald.

  [162] _Loosing_] _Let loose_ Hanmer.

  [163] _Speak: thine_] _Speak, thine_ F1 F2 F3. _Speak thine_ F4.

  [167] _bid it_] Ff. _bid_ Rowe.

  [169] _praised_] _prised_ Warburton.

  _who, so_] _who's so_ Long MS.

  [172] _to_] F1. _in_ F2 F3 F4.

  [175] _this_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.

  [175-177] _whose ... And be_] _what ... Shall be_ Johnson conj.

  [176] _now-born_] _now born_ F3 F4. _now borne_ F1 F2. _new-born_
  Warburton.

  [180] [Exeunt...] Exeunt. Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commenting
  of this wedding. Ff.

  [181] SCENE VII. Pope.

  [199] _thou_] F1 F2. _if thou_ F3 F4.

  [200] _bannerets_] F1 F2. _banners_ F3 F4.

  [208] _if_--] Theobald. _if,_ F1 F2. _is,_ F3 F4.

  [209] _lattice_] F3 F4. _lettice_ F1 F2.

  [210] _for_] om. F3 F4.

  [217] _wiser._] _wiser_-- Theobald.

  [219] _o' the_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a' th_ Ff.

  [220] _shalt_] _shall_ F1.

  [222, 223] _in the default_] _on thy defaults_ Hanmer.

  [226, 227] _for doing ... leave_] Put in the margin as spurious by
  Hanmer.

  [226] _past; as I will_] _past; * * * as I will_ Warburton, who
  supposes a line to be lost. _past; as I will be_ Capell conj. _past,
  so I will by thee_ Staunton conj.

  [229] _scurvy lord_] _scabby lord_ Collier conj.

  [238, 239] _he ... whom_] _he my good lord, whom_ Rowe (ed. 2). _he,
  my good lord, whom_ Pope.

  [239] _whom_] _he whom_ Capell.

  [243] _o'_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a_ Ff.

  [246] _methinks't_] Dyce (S. Walker conj.). _methink'st_ Ff.
  _methinks_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [253, 254] _commission ... heraldry_] Ff. _heraldry ... commission_
  Hanmer. _condition ... heraldry_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [256] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  [257] Re-enter B.] Enter Count Rossillion. Ff (after line 255).

  [259] _What's_] _What is_ F4.

  [260, 261] _Although ... her_] Printed as prose in Ff, as verse first
  by Rowe (ed. 2).

  [265, 266] _France ... wars_] Printed as verse in Ff, as prose by
  Pope.

  [266] _wars!_] _wars, Bertram!_ or _wars, Rousillon!_ Anon. conj.

  [271] _kicky-wicky_] _kickie wickie_ F1. _kicksie wicksie_ F2 F3.
  _kicksy wicksy_ F4. _kicksy-winsy_ Collier conj.

  [274, 275] _regions France_] Pope. _regions, France_ Ff. _regions!
  France_ Capell.

  [282] _war_] _warres_ F1.

  [283] _detested_] Rowe. _detected_ Ff. See note (XI).

  [286] _to-morrow_] _even to-morrow_ Hanmer. _betimes to-morrow_
  Steevens conj.

  [290] _her bravely; go_] _her; bravely go_ Delius.


SCENE IV. _Paris. The King's Palace._

_Enter_ HELENA _and_ CLOWN.

    _Hel._ My mother greets me kindly: is she well?

    _Clo._ She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's
    very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be given,
    she's very well and wants nothing i' the world; but yet
    she is not well.                                                   5

    _Hel._ If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's
    not very well?

    _Clo._ Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.

    _Hel._ What two things?

    _Clo._ One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send            10
    her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence
    God send her quickly!

_Enter_ PAROLLES.

    _Par._ Bless you, my fortunate lady!

    _Hel._ I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine
    own good fortunes.                                                15

    _Par._ You had my prayers to lead them on; and to
    keep them on, have them still. O, my knave, how does
    my old lady?

    _Clo._ So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money, I
    would she did as you say.                                         20

    _Par._ Why, I say nothing.

    _Clo._ Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's
    tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say nothing, to
    do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be
    a great part of your title; which is within a very little of      25
    nothing.

    _Par._ Away! thou'rt a knave.

    _Clo._ You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt
    a knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had been
    truth, sir.                                                       30

    _Par._ Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.

    _Clo._ Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you
    taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and
    much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure
    and the increase of laughter.                                     35

    _Par._ A good knave, i' faith, and well fed.
    Madam, my lord will go away to-night;
    A very serious business calls on him.
    The great prerogative and rite of love,
    Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;             40
    But puts it off to a compell'd restraint;
    Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets,
    Which they distil now in the curbed time,
    To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
    And pleasure drown the brim.

    _Hel._                 What's his will else?                      45

    _Par._ That you will take your instant leave o' the king,
    And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
    Strengthen'd with what apology you think
    May make it probable need.

    _Hel._         What more commands he?

    _Par._ That, having this obtain'd, you presently                  50
    Attend his further pleasure.

    _Hel._ In every thing I wait upon his will.

    _Par._ I shall report it so.

    _Hel._         I pray you.                 [_Exit Parolles._]

    Come, sirrah.                                     [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE IX. Pope.

  The King's Palace.] Another room in the same. Capell.

  [2-5] S. Walker would read as four lines of verse, ending _health ...
  not well ... wants ... well._

  [3] _but thanks_] _thanks_ Hanmer.

  [10] _she's_] F1. _she is_ F2 F3 F4.

  [11] _in earth_] _on earth_ Hanmer.

  _from whence_] _whence_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [15] _fortunes_] Capell (Heath conj.). _fortune_ Ff.

  [23] _shakes out_] _speaks out_ Warburton. _shapes out_ Anon. conj.
  _shakes to_ Anon. conj.

  [27] _thou'rt_] Rowe. _th' art_ Ff. _Before God thou'rt_ Anon. conj.

  [28, 29] _knave ... knave; ... me thou'rt_] _knave, ... knave, ... me
  th' art_ F1 F2. _knave, ... knave, ... th' art_ F3 F4. _knave; thou
  art a knave; and I am before thee that art_ Hanmer.

  [28] _thou'rt_] Capell. _th' art_ Ff.

  [33] _find me? The search_] Rowe. _find me?_ Clo. _The search_ Ff.
  _find me?_ Par. _Go to, I say: I have found thee: no more; I have
  found thee, a witty fool._ Clo. _The search_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [39] _rite_] _right_ Capell.

  [40] _due, time claims_] _duteous claim_ or _duty's claim_ Anon.
  conj.

  [41] _to_] F1 F2. _by_ F3 F4. _on_ Capell.

  [42] _is_] _are_ Hanmer.

  [43] _curbed_] _cup of_ Collier conj.

  [46] _o'_] Rowe. _a'_ Ff.

  [53] [Exit Par.] Ff (after _so_).

  [_you. Come_] Theobald. _you come_ Ff.

  [Exeunt.] Exit. Ff.


SCENE V. _Paris. The Kings Palace._

_Enter_ LAFEU _and_ BERTRAM.

    _Laf._ But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier.

    _Ber._ Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.

    _Laf._ You have it from his own deliverance.

    _Ber._ And by other warranted testimony.

    _Laf._ Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for            5
    a bunting.

    _Ber._ I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in
    knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

    _Laf._ I have then sinned against his experience and
    transgressed against his valour; and my state that way is         10
    dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent.
    Here he comes: I pray you, make us friends; I will pursue
    the amity.

_Enter_ PAROLLES.

    _Par._ These things shall be done, sir.       [_To Bertram._

    _Laf._ Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?                           15

    _Par._ Sir?

    _Laf._ O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good
    workman, a very good tailor.

    _Ber._ Is she gone to the king?        [_Aside to Parolles._

    _Par._ She is.                                                    20

    _Ber._ Will she away to-night?

    _Par._ As you'll have her.

    _Ber._ I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
    Given order for our horses; and to-night,
    When I should take possession of the bride,                       25
    End ere I do begin.

    _Laf._ A good traveller is something at the latter end of
    a dinner; but one that lies three thirds, and uses a known
    truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once
    heard, and thrice beaten. God save you, captain.                  30

    _Ber._ Is there any unkindness between my lord and
    you, monsieur?

    _Par._ I know not how I have deserved to run into my
    lord's displeasure.

    _Laf._ You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs         35
    and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and out of
    it you'll run again, rather than suffer question for your
    residence.

    _Ber._ It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.

    _Laf._ And shall do so ever, though I took him at's               40
    prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me,
    there can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this
    man is his clothes. Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence;
    I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.
    Farewell, monsieur: I have spoken better of you                   45
    than you have or will to deserve at my hand; but we must
    do good against evil.                               [_Exit._

    _Par._ An idle lord, I swear.

    _Ber._ I think so.

    _Par._ Why, do you not know him?                                  50

    _Ber._ Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
    Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

_Enter_ HELENA.

    _Hel._ I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
    Spoke with the king, and have procured his leave
    For present parting; only he desires                              55
    Some private speech with you.

    _Ber._                  I shall obey his will.
    You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
    Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
    The ministration and required office
    On my particular. Prepared I was not                              60
    For such a business; therefore am I found
    So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you,
    That presently you take your way for home,
    And rather muse than ask why I entreat you;
    For my respects are better than they seem,                        65
    And my appointments have in them a need
    Greater than shows itself at the first view
    To you that know them not. This to my mother:
                                             [_Giving a letter._

    'Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so,
    I leave you to your wisdom.

    _Hel._                Sir, I can nothing say,                     70
    But that I am your most obedient servant.

    _Ber._ Come, come, no more of that.

    _Hel._                              And ever shall
    With true observance seek to eke out that
    Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
    To equal my great fortune.

    _Ber._               Let that go:                                 75
    My haste is very great: farewell; hie home.

    _Hel._ Pray, sir, your pardon.

    _Ber._                        Well, what would you say?

    _Hel._ I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;
    Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is;
    But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal                 80
    What law does vouch mine own.

    _Ber._                  What would you have?

    _Hel._ Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed.
    I would not tell you what I would, my lord: faith, yes;
    Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss.

    _Ber._ I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.               85

    _Hel._ I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.

    _Ber._ Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell.
                                                 [_Exit Helena._

    Go thou toward home; where I will never come,
    Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum.
    Away, and for our flight.

    _Par._                    Bravely, coragio!       [_Exeunt._      90

LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] SCENE X. Pope.

  The King's Palace.] Another room in the same. Capell.

  [11] _yet_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [14] [To Bertram.] Capell.

  [15] _Pray you_] _I pray you_ Rowe.

  _who's_] _whose_ F1.

  [17] _sir, 's_] Theobald. _sir's_ F2 F3 F4. _sirs_ F1. _sits_ Pope.

  [19] [Aside ...] Rowe.

  [23-26] _I have ... begin_] Printed as prose by Pope.

  [24] _horses_] F1. _horse_ F2 F3 F4.

  [25, 26] _bride, End ... begin._] Collier (Egerton MS.), _bride, And
  ... begin_ Ff. _bride--And ... begin--_ Rowe.

  [28] _one that_] Rowe (ed. 2). _on that_ Ff. _if on that he_ Rowe (ed.
  1).

  [30] _heard_] _hard_ F1.

  _you_] _your_ F2.

  [36] _leaped_] _leapt_ F1. _leapes_ F2. _leaps_ F3 F4.

  _custard_] See note (XII).

  [46] _or will_] _qualities or will_ Malone conj. _wit or will_ Singer
  conj.

  [_to_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [_hand_] F1 F2. _hands_ F3 F4.

  [47] [Exit.] Rowe.

  [49] _so_] _not so_ Long MS.

  [51, 52] _Yes ... clog_] As prose in Hanmer.

  [53] SCENE XI. Pope.

  [57] _must_] _must must_ F2.

  [64] _ask why I_] _ask why, I_ Hanmer.

  [_entreat you_] _dismiss you_ S. Walker conj. _request it_
  Bailey conj.

  [68] [Giving a letter.] Rowe.

  [75, 76] _Let ... home_] Printed as prose in Ff.

  [83, 84] _I would ... kiss_] Arranged as in Ff. As three lines, ending
  _lord ... yes ... kiss._ Dyce conj.

  [83] _my lord_] om. Hanmer.

  [87] Ber. _Where are ... Farewell_] Hanmer (Theobald conj.): continued
  to Helena in Ff.

  _men, monsieur?_] Hanmer (Theobald conj.). _men? Monsieur:_
  Ff.

  [Exit H.] Hanmer. [Exit. Ff. [Exit Hel. Warburton (after
  line 86).

  [90] [Exeunt] om. Ff.

  [... attended] Capell. om. Ff.




ACT III.

SCENE I. _Florence. The_ DUKE'S _palace._


_Flourish. Enter the_ DUKE _of Florence, attended; the two Frenchmen
with a troop of soldiers._

    _Duke._ So that from point to point now have you heard
    The fundamental reasons of this war.
    Whose great decision hath much blood lot forth
    And more thirsts after.

    _First Lord._             Holy seems the quarrel
    Upon your Grace's part; black and fearful                          5
    On the opposer.

    _Duke._ Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
    Would in so just a business shut his bosom
    Against our borrowing prayers.

    _Sec. Lord._              Good my lord,
    The reasons of our state I cannot yield,                          10
    But like a common and an outward man,
    That the great figure of a council frames
    By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
    Say what I think of it, since I have found
    Myself in my incertain grounds to fail                            15
    As often as I guess'd.

    _Duke._                   Be it his pleasure.

    _First Lord._ But I am sure the younger of our nature,
    That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
    Come here for physic.

    _Duke._                   Welcome shall they be;
    And all the honours that can fly from us                          20
    Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
    When better fall, for your avails they fell:
    To-morrow to the field.                 [_Flourish. Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  [5] _part_] _party_ S. Walker conj.

  [_black_] _but black_ Pope.

  [6] _opposer_] _opposer's_ Hanmer.

  [9] Sec. Lord] 2 Lord. Rowe. French E. Ff.

  [13] _By_] _From_ Theobald conj.

  _motion_] _notion_ Warburton (Theobald conj.).

  [17] First Lord] Fren. G. F1. Fre. G. F2 F3 F4. 2 Lord. Rowe.

  _nature_] _nation_ Rowe.

  [22] _fell_] _fall_ Hanmer (Thirlby conj.)

  [23] _to_] _to 'th_ F1.

  [Exeunt.] om. Ff.




SCENE II. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _Palace._


_Enter_ COUNTESS _and_ CLOWN.

    _Count._ It hath happened all as I would have had it,
    save that he comes not along with her.

    _Clo._ By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very
    melancholy man.

    _Count._ By what observance, I pray you?                           5

    _Clo._ Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend
    the ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth
    and sing. I know a man that had this trick of melancholy
    sold a goodly manor for a song.

    _Count._ Let me see what he writes, and when he means             10
    to come.                                [_Opening a letter._

    _Clo._ I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our
    old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like
    your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: the brains of
    my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an old            15
    man loves money, with no stomach.

    _Count._ What have we here?

    _Clo._ E'en that you have there.                    [_Exit._

    _Count._ [_reads_] have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath
    recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded  20
    her; and sworn to make the 'not' eternal. You shall hear I am
    run away: know it before the report come. If there be breadth
    enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you.

                                           Your unfortunate son,
                                                 BERTRAM.             25
    This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
    To fly the favours of so good a king;
    To pluck his indignation on thy head
    By the misprising of a maid too virtuous
    For the contempt of empire.                                       30

_Re-enter_ CLOWN.

    _Clo._ O madam, yonder is heavy news within between
    two soldiers and my young lady!

    _Count._ What is the matter?

    _Clo._ Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some
    comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought         35
    he would.

    _Count._ Why should he be killed?

    _Clo._ So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does:
    the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though
    it be the getting of children. Here they come will tell you       40
    more: for my part, I only hear your son was run away.
                                                        [_Exit._

_Enter_ HELENA _and two_ Gentlemen.

    _First Gent._ Save you, good madam.

    _Hel._ Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.

    _Sec. Gent._ Do not say so.

    _Count._ Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen,                45
    I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
    That the first face of neither, on the start,
    Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you?

    _Sec. Gent._ Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence:
    We met him thitherward; for thence we came,                       50
    And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
    Thither we bend again.

    _Hel._ Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport.
   [_reads_] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which
   never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body that 55
   I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a 'then' I write
   a 'never.'

    This is a dreadful sentence.

    _Count._ Brought you this letter, gentlemen?

    _First Gent._                  Ay, madam;
    And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pains.               60

    _Count._ I prithee, lady, have a better cheer;
    If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
    Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son;
    But I do wash his name out of my blood,
    And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he?                65

    _Sec. Gent._ Ay, madam.

    _Count._                  And to be a soldier?

    _Sec. Gent._ Such is his noble purpose; and, believe 't,
    The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
    That good convenience claims.

    _Count._                  Return you thither?

    _First Gent._ Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.         70

    _Hel._ [_reads_] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
    'Tis bitter.

    _Count._ Find you that there?

    _Hel._                         Ay, madam.

    _First Gent._ 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply,
    which his heart was not consenting to.                            75

    _Count._ Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
    There's nothing here that is too good for him
    But only she; and she deserves a lord
    That twenty such rude boys might tend upon
    And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?                   80

    _First Gent._ A servant only, and a gentleman
    Which I have sometime known.

    _Count._                  Parolles, was it not?

    _First Gent._ Ay, my good lady, he.

    _Count._ A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
    My son corrupts a well-derived nature                             85
    With his inducement.

    _First Gent._     Indeed, good lady,
    The fellow has a deal of that too much,
    Which holds him much to have.

    _Count._ Y' are welcome, gentlemen.
    I will entreat you, when you see my son,                          90
    To tell him that his sword can never win
    The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you
    Written to bear along.

    _Sec. Gent._       We serve you, madam,
    In that and all your worthiest affairs.

    _Count._ Not so, but as we change our courtesies.                 95
    Will you draw near?        [_Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen._

    _Hel._ 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
    Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
    Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France;
    Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is 't I                     100
    That chase thee from thy country and expose
    Those tender limbs of thine to the event
    Of the none-sparing war? and is it I
    That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
    Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark                      105
    Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
    That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
    Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air,
    That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.
    Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;                          110
    Whoever charges on his forward breast,
    I am the caitiff that do hold him to 't;
    And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
    His death was so effected: better 'twere
    I met the ravin lion when he roar'd                              115
    With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
    That all the miseries which nature owes
    Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
    Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
    As oft it loses all: I will be gone;                             120
    My being here it is that holds thee hence:
    Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
    The air of paradise did fan the house,
    And angels officed all: I will be gone,
    That pitiful rumour may report my flight,                      125
    To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
    For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.     [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  [7] _the ruff_] _his ruff_ Rowe. _the ruffle_ Whalley conj.

  [8] _know_] _knew_ Rowe.

  [9] _sold_] F3 F4. _hold_ F1 F2.

  _sold ... manor for_] _holds ... manner for_ Harness conj. _hold ...
  manor by_ Collier conj.

  [11] [Reads the letter. Theobald.

  [13] _ling_] F2 F3 F4. _lings_ F1.

  [14] _old ling_] _youngling_ S. Walker conj.

  _brains_] _brain_ Pope.

  [18] _E'en_] Theobald. _In_ Ff.

  [19] Count. [reads] A letter. Ff.

  [30] _contempt_] F1 F2 F3. _content_ F4.

  [41] _hear_] _heard_ Hanmer.

  [42] SCENE III. Pope.

  First Gent.] 1 Gen. Rowe. French E. Ff. See note (VI).

  [44] Sec. Gent.] 2 Gen. Rowe. French G. F1 F3 F4. Fren. G. F2. See
  note (VI).

  [45] _patience. Pray you,_] _patience, pray you_ F1 F2. _patience;
  pray you_ F3. _patience: pray you_ F4. _patience, 'pray you:_ Hanmer.

  [46] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [48] _I pray you_] om. Theobald.

  [50] _for_] _from_ Rowe.

  [53] _his_] _this_ Rowe.

  [54] [reads.] Capell.

  [54, 55] _upon my ... off_] _from my ... off_ Hanmer. _upon thy ...
  off mine_ Johnson conj. (withdrawn).

  [59] First Gent.] 1 G. F1 F2 F3. 1 Gen. F4.

  [59, 60] _Ay, madam ... pains_] Arranged as in Capell; printed as
  prose in Ff.

  [62] _are_] _as_ Rowe.

  [71] [reads] Reading. Rowe.

  [72] _bitter_] F1. _better_ F2 F3 F4.

  [73] _Ay_] _Yes_ Rowe.

  [74] _haply_] F1. _happily_ F2 F3 F4.

  [81, 82] _A servant ... known_] Printed as prose in Ff; as verse first
  in Pope.

  [82] _sometime_] F1 F2. _sometimes_ F3. _sometimes_ F4. _sometime_
  Pope (ed. 2).

  _was it_] Ff. _was't_ Pope.

  [84-86] _A very ... inducement_] Printed as prose by Hanmer.

  [84] _very_] om. S. Walker conj.

  _and_] om. Pope.

  [86] _Indeed_] _Why, indeed_ Capell.

  [86-94] _Indeed ... affairs_] Printed as prose in Ff; as verse first
  in Capell.

  [87] _that too_] Rowe. _that, too_ Ff.

  [88] _holds him much to have_] _soils him much to have_ Theobald conj.
  _'hoves him not much to have_ Hanmer. _'hoves him much to leave_
  Collier (Collier MS.), _fouls him much to have_ Singer conj.

  [95] _courtesies_] Rowe (ed. 2). _courtesies_, Ff.

  [96] [Exeunt C. and G.] Rowe. [Exit. Ff.

  [97] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [107] _violent_] _volant_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [108] _move the still peering_] F1. _move the still-piercing_ F2
  F3 F4 (_still piercing_ F4). _pierce the still-moving_ Hanmer
  (Warburton). _move the still-piecing_ Steevens (Anon. conj.). _rove
  the still-piecing_ Tyrwhitt conj. _move the still-pierced_ Nares conj.
  _mow the still-pacing_ Jackson conj. _wound the still-piecing_ Collier
  (Collier MS.). _move the still 'pearing_ Grant White conj.
  (withdrawn), _move the still-closing_ Bailey conj.

  [109] _sings_] F1. _stings_ F2 F3 F4.

  [112] _to't_] _to it_ Theobald.

  [115] _ravin_] Capell. _ravine_ F1 F2 F3. _raving_ F4.
  _rav'ning_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [124] _angels_] _angles_ F1.

  [126] _consolate_] _consolats_ F2.


SCENE III. _Florence. Before the_ DUKE'S _palace_.

_Flourish. Enter the_ DUKE _of Florence_, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers,
Drum, _and_ Trumpets.

    _Duke._ The general of our horse thou art; and we,
    Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
    Upon thy promising fortune.

    _Ber._                         Sir, it is
    A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
    We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake                       5
    To the extreme edge of hazard.

    _Duke._                        Then go thou forth;
    And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
    As thy auspicious mistress!

    _Ber._                         This very day,
    Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:
    Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove                   10
    A lover of thy drum, hater of love.                 [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE V. Pope.

  Before ... palace.] Capell. Scene changes to the Duke's court in
  Florence. Theobald.

  PAROLLES] om. Capell.

  [3] _Sir, it is_] See note (XIII.)

  [4] _but yet_] F1. _but_ F2 F3 F4.

  [6] _the_] _th'_ Ff.

  _thou_] om. Pope.


SCENE IV. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _palace_.

_Enter_ COUNTESS _and_ STEWARD.

    _Count._ Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
    Might you not know she would do as she has done,
    By sending me a letter? Read it again.

    _Stew._ [_Reads_] I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
          Ambitious love hath so in me offended,                       5
      That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon,
          With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
      Write, write, that from the bloody course of war
          My dearest master, your dear son, may hie:
      Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far                   10
          His name with zealous fervour sanctify:
      His taken labours bid him me forgive;
        I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
      From courtly friends with camping foes to live,
        Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth:               15
      He is too good and fair for death and me;
      Whom I myself embrace to set him free.

    _Count._ Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
    Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much,
    As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her,                     20
    I could have well diverted her intents,
    Which thus she hath prevented.

    _Stew._                   Pardon me, madam:
    If I had given you this at over-night,
    She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes,
    Pursuit would be but vain.

    _Count._                  What angel shall                        25
    Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
    Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear
    And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
    Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,
    To this unworthy husband of his wife;                             30
    Let every word weigh heavy of her worth
    That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief,
    Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
    Dispatch the most convenient messenger:
    When haply he shall hear that she is gone,                        35
    He will return; and hope I may that she,
    Hearing so much, will speed her foot again.
    Led hither by pure love: which of them both
    Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense
    To make distinction: provide this messenger:                      40
    My heart is heavy and mine age is weak;
    Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak.     [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV..] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [4] Stew. [Reads] Collier. Letter Ff. Ste. Capell.

  _Saint_] S. F1 F2 F3. _St._ F4.

  [7] _have_] _hane_ F1.

  [10] _Bless_] _'Bless_ Capell conj. MS.

  _peace, whilst_] F3 F4. _peace. Whilst_ F1 F2.

  [12] _His taken_] _Herculean_ Rann conj.

  [15] _dogs_] _dog_ Rowe.

  [18] Count.] Cou. Capell. om. Ff.

  [19] _Rinaldo_] _Rynaldo_ F1 F3 F4. _Rynardo_ F2.

  _did never lack_] _ne'er lack'd_ Hanmer.

  [22] _me_] om. Pope.

  [26] _cannot_] _can't_ S. Walker conj.

  [27] _whom_] _which_ Hanmer.

  [29] _Write, write_] F1 F3 F4. _Write and write_ F2.
  _Write, oh, write_ Hanmer.

  [33] _he do_] _do he_ Rowe (ed. 2). _does he_ Hanmer.

  [39] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  _skill in sense_] _skill or sense_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [42] _and_] _but_ Hanmer.


SCENE V. _Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off._

_Enter an old_ Widow _of Florence_, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, _with
other_ Citizens.

    _Wid._ Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we
    shall lose all the sight.

    _Dia._ They say the French count has done most honourable
    service.

    _Wid._ It is reported that he has taken their greatest             5
    commander; and that with his own hand he slew the Duke's
    brother. [_Tucket._] We have lost our labour; they are gone
    a contrary way: hark! you may know by their trumpets.

    _Mar._ Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves
    with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French      10
    earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is
    so rich as honesty.

    _Wid._ I have told my neighbour how you have been
    solicited by a gentleman his companion.

    _Mar._ I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a               15
    filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl.
    Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths,
    tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they
    go under: many a maid hath been seduced by them; and
    the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck       20
    of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but
    that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I
    hope I need not to advise you further; but I hope your own
    grace will keep you where you are, though there were no
    further danger known but the modesty which is so lost.            25

    _Dia._ You shall not need to fear me.

    _Wid._ I hope so.

    _Enter_ HELENA, _disguised like a Pilgrim._

    Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at my
    house; thither they send one another: I'll question her.
    God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound?                     30

    _Hel._ To Saint Jaques le Grand.
    Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

    _Wid._ At the Saint Francis here beside the port.

    _Hel._ Is this the way?

    _Wid._ Ay, marry, is't. [_A march afar._] Hark you!
         they come this way.                                          35
    If you will tarry, holy pilgrim,
    But till the troops come by,
    I will conduct you where you shall be lodged;
    The rather, for I think I know your hostess
    As ample as myself.

    _Hel._                    Is it yourself?                         40

    _Wid._ If you shall please so, pilgrim.

    _Hel._ I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.

    _Wid._ You came, I think, from France?

    _Hel._                         I did so.

    _Wid._ Here you shall see a countryman of yours
    That has done worthy service.

    _Hel._                    His name, I pray you.                   45

    _Dia._ The Count Rousillon: know you such a one?

    _Hel._ But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him:
    His face I know not.

    _Dia._                    Whatsome'er he is,
    He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,
    As 'tis reported, for the king had married him                    50
    Against his liking: think you it is so?

    _Hel._ Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady.

    _Dia._ There is a gentleman that serves the count
    Reports but coarsely of her.

    _Hel._                    What's his name?

    _Dia._ Monsieur Parolles.

    _Hel._                    O, I believe with him,                  55
    In argument of praise, or to the worth
    Of the great count himself, she is too mean
    To have her name repeated: all her deserving
    Is a reserved honesty, and that
    I have not heard examined.

    _Dia._                    Alas, poor lady!                        60
    'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife
    Of a detesting lord.

    _Wid._ I write good creature, wheresoe'er she is,
    Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her
    A shrewd turn, if she pleased.

    _Hel._                    How do you mean?                        65
    May be the amorous count solicits her
    In the unlawful purpose.

    _Wid._                    He does indeed;
    And brokes with all that can in such a suit
    Corrupt the tender honour of a maid:
    But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard                     70
    In honestest defence.

    _Mar._                    The gods forbid else!

    _Wid._ So, now they come:

    _Drum and Colours._

_Enter_ BERTRAM, PAROLLES, _and the whole army._

    That is Antonio, the Duke's eldest son;
    That, Escalus.

    _Hel._    Which is the Frenchman?

    _Dia._                         He;
    That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow.                  75
    I would he loved his wife: if he were honester
    He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman?

    _Hel._ I like him well.

    _Dia._ 'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave
    That leads him to these places: were I his lady,                  80
    I would poison that vile rascal.

    _Hel._                    Which is he?

    _Dia._ That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy?

    _Hel._ Perchance he's hurt i' the battle.

    _Par._ Lose our drum! well.

    _Mat._ He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us.   85

    _Wid._ Marry, hang you!

    _Mar._ And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier!
                          [_Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, and army._

    _Wid._ The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
    Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents                       90
    There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound,
    Already at my house.

    _Hel._         I humbly thank you:
    Please it this matron and this gentle maid
    To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking
    Shall be for me; and, to requite you further,                     95
    I will bestow some precepts of this virgin
    Worthy the note.

    _Both._    We'll take your offer kindly.          [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] SCENE VII. Pope.

  Without the walls.] Capell. A public place in Florence. Theobald.

  A tucket...] Transferred to line 7 by Dyce.

  DIANA] her daughter. Ff.

  VIOLENTA] om. Capell.

  [1-14] As seventeen lines, ending _come ... city ... sight... done ...
  service ... reported ... commander ... slew ... labour ... hark ...
  trumpets ... again ... of it ... earl ... name ... rich ... honesty
  ... neighbour ... gentleman ... companion_ in Ff. First as prose by
  Pope.

  [3] Dia.] Violenta. Edd. conj.

  [5] _taken_] _ta'en_ Rowe.

  _greatest_] _great'st_ Ff.

  [7] [Tucket.] Capell.

  [18] _not_] _but_ Hanmer. om. Warburton.

  [20] _is, example_] Rowe (ed. 2). _is example_ Ff.

  [22] _threaten_] Pope, _threatens_ Ff.

  [25] _known_] _found_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  _the modesty_] _of the modesty_ Long MS.

  [27] Enter...] Rowe. Enter Hellen. Ff.

  [31] _le_] F3 F4. _la_ F1 F2.

  [33] _here_] om. Theobald.

  [34-37] Arranged as in Ff; as prose in Pope; as three lines, ending
  _Hark you!... pilgrim ... by_ in Capell.

  [35] _is't_] _is it_ Capell.

  A march afar.] Ff. Tucket. Capell.

  [36] _holy_] om. Capell.

  [37] _the_] _the the_ F2.

  [40] _ample_] _amply_ Capell conj.

  [40, 41] _Is it ... pilgrim_] As one line in Capell.

  [43] _I did_] _True, I did_ Hanmer.

  [48] _Whatsome'er he is_] _What somere he is_ F1 F3 F4. _What somere
  his is_ F2. _Whatsoe'er he is_ Rowe.

  [52] _mere the_] _the meer_ Hanmer. _meerlye_ Warburton.

  [54] _coarsely_] Johnson. _coursely_ Ff.

  [60] _Alas_] _Ah_ Pope.

  [63] _I write good creature,_] F1. _I right good creature,_ F2 F3 F4.
  _Ah! right good creature!_ Rowe. _Ah! right; good creature!_ Theobald.
  _Ay, right:--Good creature!_ Capell. _A right good creature:_ Steevens
  (Malone conj.). _I weet, good creature,_ Steevens conj. _I write, good
  creature,_ Grant White.

  [68] _brokes_] _brooks_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [71] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  [72] Enter Bertram...] Enter Count Rossillion... Ff (after _defence_,
  line 71).

  [77] _is't not a_] _but is it not A_ Hanmer.

  [79] _he is_] _he's_ Hanmer.

  [80] _places_] _paces_ Theobald. _pranks_ Heath conj. _passes_ Lettsom
  conj.

  [81] _I would_] _I'd_ Pope.

  [82-84] _That ... well_] S. Walker reads as three lines, ending
  _melancholy ... drum ... Well._

  [84] _well_] om. Hanmer.

  [87] [Parolles bows to them. Capell.

  [88] Exeunt....] Exit. Ff.

  [89] _bring you_] Rowe (ed. 2). _bring you,_ (_you_ in next line) F1.
  _bring You,_ F2 F3 F4.

  [96] _of_] F1. _on_ F2 F3 F4.


SCENE VI. _Camp before Florence._

_Enter_ BERTRAM _and the two French_ Lords.

    _Sec. Lord._ Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him
    have his way.

    _First Lord._ If your lordship find him not a hilding,
    hold me no more in your respect.

    _Sec. Lord._ On my life, my lord, a bubble.                        5

    _Ber._ Do you think I am so far deceived in him?

    _Sec. Lord._ Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct
    knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my
    kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless
    liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one              10
    good quality worthy your lordship's entertainment.

    _First Lord._ It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing
    too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some
    great and trusty business in a main danger fail you.

    _Ber._ I would I knew in what particular action to try him.       15

    _First Lord._ None better than to let him fetch off his
    drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do.

    _Sec. Lord._ I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly
    surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he knows
    not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink him so,             20
    that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into
    the leaguer of the adversaries, when we bring him to our
    own tents. Be but your lordship present at his examination:
    if he do not, for the promise of his life and in the
    highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you and          25
    deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and
    that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never
    trust my judgement in any thing.

    _First Lord._ O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch
    his drum; he says he has a stratagem for't: when your             30
    lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what
    metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you
    give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining
    cannot be removed. Here he comes.

_Enter_ PAROLLES.

    _Sec. Lord._ [_Aside to Ber._] O, for the love of laughter,       35
    hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch off his
    drum in any hand.

    _Ber._ How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in
    your disposition.

    _First Lord._ A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum.             40

    _Par._ 'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost!
    There was excellent command,--to charge in with our
    horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers!

    _First Lord._ That was not to be blamed in the command
    of the service: it was a disaster of war that Cæsar               45
    himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to
    command.

    _Ber._ Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success:
    some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is
    not to be recovered.                                              50

    _Par._ It might have been recovered.

    _Ber._ It might; but it is not now.

    _Par._ It is to be recovered: but that the merit of service
    is seldom attributed to the true and exact performer,
    I would have that drum or another, or 'hic jacet.'                55

    _Ber._ Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you
    think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument
    of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in
    the enterprise and go on; I will grace the attempt for a
    worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the Duke shall both      60
    speak of it, and extend to you what further becomes his
    greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness.

    _Par._ By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.

    _Ber._ But you must not now slumber in it.

    _Par._ I'll about it this evening: and I will presently           65
    pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my certainty,
    put myself into my mortal preparation; and by midnight
    look to hear further from me.

    _Ber._ May I be bold to acquaint his Grace you are gone
    about it?                                                         70

    _Par._ I know not what the success will be, my lord;
    but the attempt I vow.

    _Ber._ I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of
    thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

    _Par._ I love not many words.                       [_Exit._      75

    _Sec. Lord._ No more than a fish loves water. Is not
    this a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to
    undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done;
    damns himself to do and dares better be damned than to
    do't?                                                             80

    _First Lord._ You do not know him, my lord, as we do:
    certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's favour
    and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but when
    you find him out, you have him ever after.

    _Ber._ Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of           85
    this that so seriously he does address himself unto?

    _Sec. Lord._ None in the world; but return with an invention
    and clap upon you two or three probable lies: but
    we have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall to-night;
    for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect.                 90

    _First Lord._ We'll make you some sport with the fox
    ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old lord
    Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a
    sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night.

    _Sec. Lord._ I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught.         95

    _Ber._ Your brother he shall go along with me.

    _Sec. Lord._ As't please your lordship: I'll leave you.
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Ber._ Now will I lead you to the house, and show you
    The lass I spoke of.

    _First Lord._ But you say she's honest.

    _Ber._ That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once           100
    And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her,
    By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind,
    Tokens and letters which she did re-send;
    And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature:
    Will you go see her?

    _First Lord._   With all my heart, my lord.       [_Exeunt._     105

LINENOTES:

  SCENE VI.] SCENE IX. Pope.

  Camp before Florence.] Capell.

  Enter...] Rowe. Enter Count Rossillion and the Frenchmen, as at first.
  Ff.

  [1] Sec. Lord.] Cap. E. Ff, and] generally throughout the scene, 1.
  Ld. Rowe. Fr. Env. Collier. See note (VI).

  [3] First Lord.] Cap. G. Ff, and throughout the scene. 2. Ld. Rowe.
  Fr. Gent. Collier. See note (VI).

  [18] Sec. Lord.] C. E. F1. G. E. F2. Cap. E. F3 F4. Omitted by Capell,
  who continues the following speech to _1. L._

  [22] _leaguer_] F4. _leager_ F1 F2 F3.

  _adversaries_] _adversary_ or _adversary's_ Grant White conj.

  [29, 30] _O ... drum_] Omit and lines 35, 36, 37. Capell conj.

  [29] _fetch_] _fetch off_ Dyce (Collier MS.).

  [31] _his_] Rowe. _this_ Ff.

  [32] _ore_] _oar_ Theobald, _ours_ Ff. _ores_ Collier MS.

  [33] _John_] _Tom_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).

  _inclining_] _inelining_ F1.

  [35] SCENE X. Pope.

  Enter P.] Dyce (after line 37).

  [35-37] Marked as 'Aside' by Capell.

  [36] _honour_] F3 F4. _honor_ F1 F2. _humour_ Theobald.

  [42] _in_] F1 F2 F3. _him_ F4.

  [44, 45] _command_] _conduct_ Collier conj.

  [55] _'hic jacet.'_] _hic jacet_-- Theobald.

  [57] _mystery_] _mastery_ Collier conj.

  [73, 74] As three lines, ending _valiant ... souldiership ...
  Farewell_ in Ff.

  [73] _thou'rt_] Capell. _th' art_ Ff.

  [74] _thy_] om. Warburton.

  [76] SCENE XI. Pope.

  [79] _do_] _do't_ F4.

  [79, 80.] _to do 't_] _do 't_ Rann.

  [83] _discoveries_] _discovery_ S. Walker conj.

  [88] _probable_] _improbable_ S. Walker conj.

  [92] _case_] _uncase_ Hanmer. _uncape_ Anon. conj.

  [93] _is parted_] _are parted_ Hanmer.

  _tell me_] _you'll tell me_ Rann conj.

  [95] _I ... caught_] Continued to the former speaker by Capell.

  _go look_] _go and look_ Rowe. _go lime_ Long MS. _go lack_ Jackson
  conj. _go loop_ Anon. conj.

  [97] Sec. Lord.] 2 Lord. Theobald. Cap. G. Ff.

  Sec. Lord. _As't ... you_] Fr. Cent. _As't ... lordship._ Fr. En.
  _I'll leave you._ Collier.

  [99, 105] First Lord.] Cap. E. Ff.

  [104] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.


SCENE VII. _Florence. The_ Widow's _house._

_Enter_ HELENA _and_ Widow.

    _Hel._ If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
    I know not how I shall assure you further,
    But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.

    _Wid._ Though my estate be fallen, I was well born,
    Nothing acquainted with these businesses;                          5
    And would not put my reputation now
    In any staining act.

    _Hel._                    Nor would I wish you.
    First, give me trust, the count he is my husband,
    And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken
    Is so from word to word; and then you cannot,                     10
    By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,
    Err in bestowing it.

    _Wid._                    I should believe you;
    For you have show'd me that which well approves
    You're great in fortune.

    _Hel._                    Take this purse of gold,
    And let me buy your friendly help thus far,                       15
    Which I will over-pay and pay again
    When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter,
    Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
    Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent,
    As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it.                     20
    Now his important blood will nought deny
    That she'll demand: a ring the county wears,
    That downward hath succeeded in his house
    From son to son, some four or five descents
    Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds                25
    In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire,
    To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,
    Howe'er repented after.

    _Wid._                     Now I see
    The bottom of your purpose.

    _Hel._ You see it lawful, then: it is no more,                    30
    But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,
    Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;
    In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
    Herself most chastely absent: after this,
    To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns                      35
    To what is past already.

    _Wid._                    I have yielded:
    Instruct my daughter how she shall persever,
    That time and place with this deceit so lawful
    May prove coherent. Every night he comes
    With musics of all sorts and songs composed                       40
    To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us
    To chide him from our eaves; for he persists
    As if his life lay on't.

    _Hel._                    Why then to-night
    Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
    Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed,                               45
    And lawful meaning in a lawful act,
    Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact:
    But let's about it.                               [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE VII.] SCENE XII. Pope.

  [5] _businesses_] _basenesses_ Anon. conj.

  [8, 17] _count he_] _county_ Edd. conj.

  [8] _is_] _his_ F2

  [14] _You're_] Y'are Ff. _You are_ Capell.

  [17] _he_] om. Pope.

  [19] _Resolved_] Collier (Egerton MS.). _Resolve_ F1. _Resolves_ F2 F3
  F4.

  _in fine_] om. Rowe (ed. 2).

  [20] _how 'tis_] _how, 'tis_ Warburton.

  [21] _his important_] F1 F2. _this important_ F3 F4. _this
  importurate_ Rowe (ed. i). _his importunate_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [22] _county wears_] _countie weares_ F1. _county weares_ F2 F3.
  _count wears_ F4. _count does wear_ Rowe. See note (XIV).

  [28, 29] _Now ... purpose_] As in Capell. As one line in Ff. _Now do I
  see ... purpose_ (as one line) Hanmer.

  [34] _after this_] F2 F3 F4. _after_ F1. _afterwards_ Collier conj.

  [36] _past_] _pact_ Anon. conj.

  [40] _musics_] _Musickes_ F1 F2. _Musicks_ F3. _Musick_ F4.

  [41] _steads_] F4. _steeds_ F1 F2 F3.

  [42] _eaves_] Hanmer. _eeves_ Ff.

  [46] _And lawful_] _Unlawful_ Hanmer.

  _lawful act_] _wicked act_ Warburton. _lawless act_ Anon. conj.




ACT IV.

SCENE I. _Without the Florentine camp._


_Enter_ Second French Lord, _with five or six other_ Soldiers _in ambush._

    _Sec. Lord._ He can come no other way but by this
    hedge-corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible
    language you will: though you understand it not
    yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand
    him, unless some one among us whom we must produce                 5
    for an interpreter.

    _First Sold._ Good captain, let me be the interpreter.

    _Sec. Lord._ Art not acquainted with him? knows he not
    thy voice?                                                        10

    _First Sold._ No, sir, I warrant you.

    _Sec. Lord._ But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak
    to us again?

    _First Sold._ E'en such as you speak to me.

    _Sec. Lord._ He must think us some band of strangers i'
    the adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of             15
    all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every one be
    a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak one to
    another; so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose:
    choughs' language, gabble enough, and good enough.
    As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But          20
    couch, ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep,
    and then to return and swear the lies he forges.

_Enter_ PAROLLES.

    _Par._ Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be
    time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done?
    It must be a very plausive invention that carries it: they        25
    begin to smoke me; and disgraces have of late knocked too
    often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy; but
    my heart hath the fear of Mars before it and of his creatures,
    not daring the reports of my tongue.

    _Sec. Lord._ This is the first truth that e'er thine own          30
    tongue was guilty of.

    _Par._ What the devil should move me to undertake the
    recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility,
    and knowing I had no such purpose? I must give
    myself some hurts, and say I got them in exploit: yet             35
    slight ones will not carry it; they will say, 'Came you off
    with so little?' and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore,
    what's the instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's
    mouth, and buy myself another of Bajazet's
    mule, if you prattle me into these perils.                        40

    _Sec. Lord._ Is it possible he should know what he is,
    and be that he is?

    _Par._ I would the cutting of my garments would serve
    the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.

    _Sec. Lord._ We cannot afford you so.                             45

    _Par._ Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in
    stratagem.

    _Sec. Lord._ 'Twould not do.

    _Par._ Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.

    _Sec. Lord._ Hardly serve.                                        50

    _Par._ Though I swore I leaped from the window of the
    citadel--

    _Sec. Lord._ How deep?

    _Par._ Thirty fathom.

    _Sec. Lord._ Three great oaths would scarce make that             55
    be believed.

    _Par._ I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would
    swear I recovered it.

    _Sec. Lord._ You shall hear one anon.

    _Par._ A drum now of the enemy's,--        [_Alarum within._      60

    _Sec. Lord._ Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.

    _All._ Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.

    _Par._ O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes.
                                  [They seize and blindfold him.

    _First Sold._ Boskos thromuldo boskos.

    _Par._ I know you are the Muskos' regiment;                       65
    And I shall lose my life for want of language:
    If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
    Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll
    Discover that which shall undo the Florentine.

    _First Sold._ Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and              70
    can speak thy tongue. Kerelybonto, sir, betake thee to
    thy faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.

    _Par._ O!

    _First Sold._ O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche.          75

    _Sec. Lord._ Oscorbidulchos volivorco.

    _First Sold._ The general is content to spare thee yet;
    And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
    To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform
    Something to save thy life.

    _Par._                    O, let me live!                         80
    And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,
    Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that
    Which you will wonder at.

    _First Sold._             But wilt thou faithfully?

    _Par._ If I do not, damn me.

    _First Sold._ Acordo linta.                                       85
    Come on; thou art granted space.
          [_Exit, with Parolles guarded. A short alarum within._

    _Sec. Lord._ Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother,
    We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
    Till we do hear from them.

    _Sec. Sold._              Captain, I will.

    _Sec. Lord._ A' will betray us all unto ourselves:                90
    Inform on that.

    _Sec. Sold._ So I will, sir.

    _Sec. Lord._ Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. Without....] Capell. Continues in Florence. Pope. Part of the
  French camp in Florence. Theobald.

  Enter Second French Lord....] Edd. Enter one of the Frenchmen.... Ff.
  Enter First Lord.... Capell. Enter French Envoy.... Collier. See note
  (VI).

  Sec. Lord.] 1. Lord. E. Ff.

  [5] _among_] _amongst_ Rowe.

  [7] _captain_] F3 F4. _captaine_ F1. _captaive_ F2.

  [15] _adversary's_] Johnson, _adversaries_ Ff. _adversaries'_
  Warburton.

  [18] _know straight_] _shew straight_ Hanmer. _go straight to_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  [19] _choughs'_] _chough's_ F3 F4. _choughs_ F1 F2.

  [23] _o'_] Johnson, _a_ Ff.

  [29] _my_] _my own_ Mason conj. _mine own_ Rann.

  [39 _myself_] om. Steevens.

  _Bajazet's_] _Baiazeths_ F1. _Bajazeths_ F2 F3 F4.

  [40] _mule_] F1 F2. _Mules_ F3 F4. _mute_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [57] _enemy's_] Malone. _enemies_ Ff. _enemies'_ Capell.

  [60] _enemy's_,--] Edd. _enemy's!_ Malone. _enemies!_ Theobald.
  _enemies._ Ff.

  [62] _cargo, cargo_] _cargo_ Hanmer.

  [63] [They ... him.] Rowe. om. Ff.

  [64] _Boskos ... boskos_] F1. _Baskos ... baskos_ F2 F3 F4.

  [65] _Muskos'_] Capell. _Muskos_ Ff.

  [68] _or_] om. Capell.

  [68, 69] Arranged as in Capell. _Ile ... Florentine_ (in one line) Ff.
  _I will ... undo The...._ Malone.

  [70-74] _Boskos ... pray!_] Printed as verse by Capell.

  [73, 74] Par. _O!_ First Sold. _O, pray_] Par. _Oh, oh!_ 1. S. _Pray._
  Capell.

  [74] _revania_] F1. _revanta_ F2. _revancha_ F3 F4.

  [76] _Oscorbidulchos_] F1. _Osceorbidulchos_ F2 F3 F4.

  [86] Exit....] Capell. Exit. Ff.

  A short alarum within.] Ff. om. Capell.

  [88] _We have_] _We've_ Pope.

  [90] _A'_] _A_ Ff. _He_ Rowe.

  [91] _Inform on that_] _Inform 'em that_ Rowe. _Inform 'em too of
  that_ Capell.


SCENE II. _Florence. The_ Widow's _house._

_Enter_ BERTRAM _and_ DIANA.

    _Ber._ They told me that your name was Fontibell.

    _Dia._ No, my good lord, Diana.

    _Ber._                         Titled goddess;
    And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul,
    In your fine frame hath love no quality?
    If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,                    5
    You are no maiden, but a monument:
    When you are dead, you should be such a one
    As you are now, for you are cold and stern;
    And now you should be as your mother was
    When your sweet self was got.                                     10

    _Dia._ She then was honest.

    _Ber._                         So should you be.

    _Dia._                                       No:
    My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
    As you owe to your wife.

    _Ber._                    No more o' that;
    I prithee, do not strive against my vows:
    I was compell'd to her; but I love thee                           15
    By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
    Do thee all rights of service.

    _Dia._                    Ay, so you serve us
    Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
    You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
    And mock us with our bareness.

    _Ber._                    How have I sworn!                       20

    _Dia._ 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
    But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
    What is not holy, that we swear not by,
    But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me,
    If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,                     25
    I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
    When I did love you ill? This has no holding,
    To swear by him whom I protest to love,
    That I will work against him: therefore your oaths
    Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd,                      30
    At least in my opinion.

    _Ber._                    Change it, change it;
    Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy;
    And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts
    That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
    But give thyself unto my sick desires,                            35
    Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever
    My love as it begins shall so persever.

    _Dia._ I see that men make rope's in such a scarre
    That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.

    _Ber._ I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power              40
    To give it from me.

    _Dia._                    Will you not, my lord?

    _Ber._ It is an honour 'longing to our house,
    Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
    Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
    In me to lose.

    _Dia._          Mine honour's such a ring:                        45
    My chastity's the jewel of our house,
    Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
    Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
    In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom
    Brings in the champion Honour on my part,                         50
    Against your vain assault.

    _Ber._                    Here, take my ring:
    My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine,
    And I'll be bid by thee.

    _Dia._ When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window:
    I'll order take my mother shall not hear.                         55
    Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
    When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed,
    Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me:
    My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them
    When back again this ring shall be deliver'd:                     60
    And on your finger in the night I 'll put
    Another ring, that what in time proceeds
    May token to the future our past deeds.
    Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won
    A wife of me, though there my hope be done.                       65

    _Ber._ A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.   [_Exit._

    _Dia._ For which live long to thank both heaven and me!
    You may so in the end.
    My mother told me just how he would woo,
    As if she sat in's heart; she says all men                        70
    Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me
    When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him
    When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,
    Marry that will, I live and die a maid:
    Only in this disguise I think't no sin                            75
    To cozen him that would unjustly win.               [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  Enter....] Enter Bertram and the Maid called Diana. Ff.

  [2] _Titled goddess_] _Titl'd, goddess_ Capell.

  [8] _stern_] F3 F4. _sterne_ F1 F2. _stone_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [13] _o'_] Rowe. _a'_ Ff.

  [14] _strive ... vows:_] _drive against my vows:_ Johnson conj.
  _shrive--against my voice_ Id. conj.

  [19] _barely_] _basely_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [21-31] Dia. _'Tis not ... opinion_] Dia. _'Tis not ... witness._ Ber.
  _Then ... ill?_ Dia. _This ... opinion_ Staunton conj.

  [21] _makes_] F1. _make_ F2 F3 F4.

  [23, 24] _What ... me,_] _But ... by?_ Jackson conj. (inverting the
  lines).

  _What ... witness: then, pray_] Bert. _What ... witness._ Diana.
  _Then, pray_ Johnson conj.

  [23-29] _What ... against him_] Erased in Collier MS.

  [23] _swear not by,_] _swear, not 'bides,_ Warburton.

  [24] _pray you_] _pray_ Pope.

  [25] _Jove's_] _Joves_ F3 F4. _Ioues_ F1 F2. _love's_ Grant White
  (Johnson conj.). _God's_ Edd. conj. See note (xv).

  _attributes_] F1. _attribute_ F2 F3 F4.

  [28] _by_] _to_ Johnson conj.

  _whom_] _when_ Singer.

  [28, 29] _whom I ... him_] _and to protest I love Whom I will work
  against_ Becket conj.

  [32] _holy-cruel_] Theobald. _holy cruel_ Ff.

  _love_] _my love_ Staunton conj.

  [35, 36] _desires, Who then recover_] Rowe (ed. 2). _desires, Who then
  recovers_ Ff. _desires, Which then recover_ Pope. _desire, Who then
  recovers_ Capell.

  [38] _rope's ... scarre_] F1 F2. _ropes ... scarre_ F3. _ropes ...
  scar_ F4. _hopes ... affairs_ Rowe. _hopes ... scene_ Malone. _mopes
  in ... scar_ or _japes of ... scathe_ Becket conj. _hopes ... scare_
  Henley conj. _hopes ... cause_ Mitford conj. _hopes ... war_ Singer
  (ed. 1). _hopes ... scarre_ Singer (Knight conj.). _slopes ... scarre_
  Collier conj. _ropes ... staire_ Id. conj. _hopes ... case_ Dyce.
  _hopes ... snare_ Staunton. _hopes ... suit_ Collier (Collier MS.).
  _may cope's ... sorte_ Williams conj.

  [44] _were_] _'twere_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [53] _And I'll_] _An I_ Collier conj.

  [65] _done_] _none_ Collier MS.

  [66] _I have_] F1 F2. _I've_ F3 F4.

  [71] _had_] _hath_ Capell conj. _has_ Grant White.

  [73] _Frenchmen_] _men_ Hanmer.

  [74] _Marry_] _Marry 'em_ Theobald (Warburton).

  [74] _I_] F1 F2. _I'le_ F3 F4. _I'd_ Theobald (Warburton).

  Lords] Captains Ff.


SCENE III. _The Florentine camp._

_Enter the two French_ Lords _and some two or three_ Soldiers.

    _First Lord._ You have not given him his mother's letter?

    _Sec. Lord._ I have delivered it an hour since: there is
    something in't that stings his nature; for on the reading it
    he changed almost into another man.

    _First Lord._ He has much worthy blame laid upon him               5
    for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

    _Sec. Lord._ Especially he hath incurred the everlasting
    displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty to
    sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you
    shall let it dwell darkly with you.                               10

    _First Lord._ When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I
    am the grave of it.

    _Sec. Lord._ He hath perverted a young gentlewoman
    here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night
    he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath given     15
    her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the
    unchaste composition.

    _First Lord._ Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are
    ourselves, what things are we!

    _Sec. Lord._ Merely our own traitors. And as in the               20
    common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal
    themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, so he
    that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his
    proper stream o'erflows himself.

    _First Lord._ Is it not meant damnable in us, to be               25
    trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then
    have his company to-night?

    _Sec. Lord._ Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to
    his hour.

    _First Lord._ That approaches apace: I would gladly               30
    have him see his company anatomized, that he might take
    a measure of his own judgements, wherein so curiously
    he had set this counterfeit.

    _Sec. Lord._ We will not meddle with him till he come;
    for his presence must be the whip of the other.                   35

    _First Lord._ In the mean time, what hear you of these
    wars?

    _Sec. Lord._ I hear there is an overture of peace.

    _First Lord._ Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.

    _Sec. Lord._ What will Count Rousillon do then? will              40
    he travel higher, or return again into France?

    _First Lord._ I perceive, by this demand, you are not
    altogether of his council.

    _Sec. Lord._ Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great
    deal of his act.                                                  45

    _First Lord._ Sir, his wife some two months since fled
    from his house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques
    le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere sanctimony
    she accomplished; and, there residing, the tenderness
    of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a      50
    groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven.

    _Sec. Lord._ How is this justified?

    _First Lord._ The stronger part of it by her own letters,
    which makes her story true, even to the point of her death:
    her death itself, which could not be her office to say is come,   55
    was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place.

    _Sec. Lord._ Hath the count all this intelligence?

    _First Lord._ Ay, and the particular confirmations, point
    from point, to the full arming of the verity.

    _Sec. Lord._ I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.      60

    _First Lord._ How mightily sometimes we make us comforts
    of our losses!

    _Sec. Lord._ And how mightily some other times we
    drown our gain in tears! The great dignity that his valour
    hath here acquired for him shall at home be encountered           65
    with a shame as ample.

    _First Lord._ The web of our life is of a mingled yarn,
    good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our
    faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if
    they were not cherished by our virtues.                           70

_Enter a_ Messenger.

    How now! where's your master?

    _Serv._ He met the Duke in the street, sir, of whom he
    hath taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next morning
    for France. The Duke hath offered him letters of commendations
    to the king.                                                      75

    _Sec. Lord._ They shall be no more than needful there,
    if they were more than they can commend.

    _First Lord._ They cannot be too sweet for the king's
    tartness. Here's his lordship now.

_Enter_ BERTRAM.

    How now, my lord! is't not after midnight?                        80

    _Ber._ I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a
    month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: I have
    congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his nearest;
    buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother I
    am returning; entertained my convoy; and between these            85
    main parcels of dispatch effected many nicer needs: the
    last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet.

    _Sec. Lord._ If the business be of any difficulty, and this
    morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your
    lordship.                                                         90

    _Ber._ I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to
    hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue between
    the fool and the soldier? Come, bring forth this
    counterfeit module, has deceived me, like a double-meaning
    prophesier.                                                       95

    _Sec. Lord._ Bring him forth: he has sat i' the stocks all
    night, poor gallant knave.

    _Ber._ No matter; his heels have deserved it, in usurping
    his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

    _Sec. Lord._ I have told your lordship already, the stocks       100
    carry him. But to answer you as you would be understood;
    he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he
    hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be
    a friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very instant
    disaster of his setting i' the stocks: and what think            105
    you he hath confessed?

    _Ber._ Nothing of me, has a'?

    _Sec. Lord._ His confession is taken, and it shall be read
    to his face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you are,
    you must have the patience to hear it.                           110

_Enter_ PAROLLES _guarded, and_ First Soldier.

    _Ber._ A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing
    of me: hush, hush!

    _First Lord._ Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa.

    _First Sold._ He calls for the tortures: what will you
    say without 'em?                                                 115

    _Par._ I will confess what I know without constraint: if
    ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.

    _First Sold._ Bosko chimurcho.

    _First Lord._ Boblibindo chicurmurco.

    _First Sold._ You are a merciful general. Our general            120
    bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.

    _Par._ And truly, as I hope to live.

    _First Sold._ [_reads_] First demand of him how many horse the
    Duke is strong. What say you to that?

    _Par._ Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable:    125
    the troops are all scattered, and the commanders
    very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit and as I
    hope to live.

    _First Sold._ Shall I set down your answer so?

    _Par._ Do: I'll take the sacrament on 't, how and which          130
    way you will.

    _Ber._ All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!

    _First Lord._ You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur
    Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own phrase,--
    that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf,      135
    and the practice in the chape of his dagger.

    _Sec. Lord._ I will never trust a man again for keeping
    his sword clean, nor believe he can have every thing in
    him by wearing his apparel neatly.

    _First Sold._ Well, that's set down.                             140

    _Par._ Five or six thousand horse, I said,--I will say
    true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth.

    _First Lord._ He's very near the truth in this.

    _Ber._ But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he
    delivers it.                                                     145

    _Par._ Poor rogues, I pray you, say.

    _First Sold._ Well, that's set down.

    _Par._ I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the
    rogues are marvellous poor.

    _First Sold._ [_reads_] Demand of him, of what strength they
       are                                                           150
    a-foot. What say you to that?

    _Par._ By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present hour,
    I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and fifty;
    Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so many;
    Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred and           155
    fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii,
    two hundred and fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten
    and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand
    poll; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off
    their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces.            160

    _Ber._ What shall be done to him?

    _First Lord._ Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand
    of him my condition, and what credit I have with the Duke.

    _First Sold._ Well, that's set down. [_Reads_] You shall demand
    of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i' the camp, a Frenchman;  165
    what his reputation is with the Duke; what his valour, honesty,
    and expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not possible,
    with well-weighing sums of gold, to corrupt him to a revolt.
    What say you to this? what do you know of it?

    _Par._ I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of         170
    the inter'gatories: demand them singly.

    _First Sold._ Do you know this Captain Dumain?

    _Par._ I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris,
    from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's fool
    with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not say him nay.        175

    _Ber._ Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I
    know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.

    _First Sold._ Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence's
    camp?

    _Par._ Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.                      180

    _First Lord._ Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear
    of your lordship anon.

    _First Sold._ What is his reputation with the Duke?

    _Par._ The Duke knows him for no other but a poor
    officer of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him        185
    out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket.

    _First Sold._ Marry, we'll search.

    _Par._ In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there,
    or it is upon a file with the Duke's other letters in my tent.

    _First Sold._ Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to      190
    you?

    _Par._ I do not know if it be it or no.

    _Ber._ Our interpreter does it well.

    _First Lord._ Excellently.

  _First Sold._ [reads] Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,-- 195

    _Par._ That is not the Duke's letter, sir; that is an advertisement
    to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to
    take heed of the allurement of one Count Rousillon, a
    foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish: I pray you,
    sir, put it up again.                                            200

    _First Sold._ Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour.

    _Par._ My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in
    the behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be
    a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to virginity
    and devours up all the fry it finds.                             205

    _Ber._ Damnable both-sides rogue!

    _First Sold._ [_reads_] When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold,
      and take it;
      After he scores, he never pays the score:
    Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
      He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before;                     210
    And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this,
    Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss:
    For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,
    Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.

        Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear,                     215
                                                   PAROLLES.

    _Ber._ He shall be whipped through the army with this
    rhyme in's forehead.

    _Sec. Lord._ This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold
    linguist and the armipotent soldier.                             220

    _Ber._ I could endure any thing before but a cat, and
    now he's a cat to me.

    _First Sold._ I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we
    shall be fain to hang you.

    _Par._ My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to        225
    die; but that, my offences being many, I would repent out
    the remainder of nature: let me live, sir, in a dungeon, i' the
    stocks, or any where, so I may live.

    _First Sold._ We'll see what may be done, so you confess
    freely; therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain:             230
    you have answered to his reputation with the Duke and to
    his valour: what is his honesty?

    _Par._ He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for
    rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he professes
    not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he is stronger than        235
    Hercules: he will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you
    would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue,
    for he will be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does
    little harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they
    know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but             240
    little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has every thing
    that an honest man should not have; what an honest man
    should have, he has nothing.

    _First Lord._ I begin to love him for this.

    _Ber._ For this description of thine honesty? A pox              245
    upon him for me, he's more and more a cat.

    _First Sold._ What say you to his expertness in war?

    _Par._ Faith, sir, has led the drum before the English
    tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of his soldiership
    I know not; except, in that country he had the                   250
    honour to be the officer at a place there called Mile-end,
    to instruct for the doubling of files: I would do the man
    what honour I can, but of this I am not certain.

    _First Lord._ He hath out-villained villany so far, that
    the rarity redeems him.                                          255

    _Ber._ A pox on him, he's a cat still.

    _First Sold._ His qualities being at this poor price, I
    need not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

    _Par._ Sir, for a quart d'écu he will sell the fee-simple of
    his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from    260
    all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually.

    _First Sold._ What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain?

    _Sec. Lord._ Why does he ask him of me?

    _First Sold._ What's he?                                         265

    _Par._ E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so
    great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in
    evil: he excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is
    reputed one of the best that is: in a retreat he outruns any
    lackey; many, in coming on he has the cramp.                     270

    _First Sold._ If your life be saved, will you undertake to
    betray the Florentine?

    _Par._ Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon.

    _First Sold._ I'll whisper with the general, and know his
    pleasure.                                                        275

    _Par._ [_Aside_] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all
    drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the
    supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I
    run into this danger. Yet who would have suspected an
    ambush where I was taken?                                        280

    _First Sold._ There is no remedy, sir, but you must die:
    the general says, you that have so traitorously discovered the
    secrets of your army and made such pestiferous reports of
    men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use;
    therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.       285

    _Par._ O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!

    _First Sold._ That shall you, and take your leave of all
    your friends.                             [_Unblinding him._
    So, look about you: know you any here?

    _Ber._ Good morrow, noble captain.                               290

    _Sec. Lord._ God bless you, Captain Parolles.

    _First Lord._ God save you, noble captain.

    _Sec. Lord._ Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
    Lafeu? I am for France.

    _First Lord._ Good captain, will you give me a copy of           295
    the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon?
    an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you:
    but fare you well.              [_Exeunt Bertram and Lords._

    _First Sold._ You are undone, captain, all but your
    scarf; that has a knot on't yet.                                 300

    _Par._ Who cannot be crushed with a plot?

    _First Sold._ If you could find out a country where but
    women were that had received so much shame, you might
    begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for
    France too: we shall speak of you there.                         305
                                         [_Exit, with Soldiers._

    _Par._ Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
    'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;
    But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft
    As captain shall: simply the thing I am
    Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,                310
    Let him fear this, for it will come to pass
    That every braggart shall be found an ass.
    Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
    Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!
    There's place and means for every man alive.                     315
    I'll after them.                                     [_Exit_

LINENOTES:

  [1] First Lord.] 1 Ld. Rowe. Cap. G. Ff (and throughout the scene).

  [2] Sec. Lord.] 2 Ld. Rowe. Cap. E. Ff (and throughout the scene).

  [16] _made_] _paid_ Staunton conj.

  [18] _delay_] _allay_ Hanmer.

  [22] _till_] _ere_ Hanmer. _when_ Mason conj.

  [23, 24] _nobility, ... stream_] Theobald. _nobility ... stream,_ Ff.

  [25] _meant_] Ff. _most_ Hanmer. _meantime_ Heath conj. _mean and_
  Mason conj. _maint_ Nicholson conj. _mere_ Anon. conj.

  [26] _trumpeters_] _the trumpeters_ Rowe.

  [30] _apace_] _agace_ F3.

  [31] _company_] _companion_ Hanmer.

  _anatomized_] _anatomiz'd_ Rowe. _anathomiz'd_ Ff.

  [32] _judgements_] Ff. _judgement_ Pope.

  _wherein so curiously_] _where so incuriously_ Badham conj.

  _curiously_] F1 F2. _seriously_ F3 F4.

  [33] _this_] F1 F2. _his_ F3 F4.

  [36] _these_] F1. _those_ F2 F3 F4.

  [39] _concluded_] _is concluded_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [47] _is_] om. Capell.

  [48] _most_] _a most_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [49] _the_] _through the_ Capell.

  [50] _as_] om. Long MS.

  [53] _stronger_] _stranger_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [54] _makes_] Ff. _make_ Malone.

  [55] _itself_] _is selfe_ F2. See note (XVI).

  [56] _was_] _and_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [58, 59] _point from point_] Ff. _from point to point_
  Hanmer. _point for point_ Capell.

  [64] _gain_] _gains_ Edd. conj.

  [70] Messenger] Ff. Servant Rowe (ed. 2).

  [74, 75] _commendations_] _commendation_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [78] SCENE IV. Pope.

  First Lord.] Ber. F1 F2. Cap. G. F3 F4.

  [79] Enter B.] Enter Count Rossillion Ff (after line 77).

  [83] _congied_] Ff. _conge'd_ Capell.

  [86] _effected_] F3 F4. _affected_ F1 F2.

  [94] _module_] Ff. _medal_ Hanmer (Warburton). _model_ Collier.

  _module, has_] F2. _module has_ F1. _module; 'has_ F3 F4. _module;
  h'as_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [96] _forth_] _forth_ [Exeunt Soldiers.] Capell.

  _he has_] _h'as_ F1 F2. _ha's_ F3 F4.

  _i'the_] _i'th_ Ff. _in the_ Rowe.

  [100] Sec. Lord.] 2 L. Capell. Cap. E. F1 F2. Cap. G. F3 F4. 1 Ld.
  Rowe.

  [105] _i'the_] _i'th_ Ff.

  [107] _has a'_] _ha's a_ F1 F2 F3. _has a_ F4. _has he_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [110] _hear_] _bear_ Anon conj.

  [Enter...] Enter Parolles with his Interpreter. Ff.

  [111] SCENE V. Pope.

  [112] _hush, hush!_] _hush_ F2.

  [112, 113 _hush, hush!_ First Lord. _Hoodman_] 1 Lord. _Hush! hoodman_
  Hanmer. 1 L. _Hush, hush! hoodman_ S. Walker conj.

  [113] _Hoodman_] _Headsman_ Grey conj.

  [114] First Sold.] Int. Ff (and throughout the scene).

  [116, 117] _I will ... more_] Printed as two lines in Ff, ending
  _...constraint, ...more._

  [132] Ber. _All's one to him. What_] Capell. _All's one to him._ Ber.
  _What_ Ff. _All's one to me._ Ber. _What_ Rowe. 1 Lord, or 2. Lord,
  _All's ... him_ Ber. _What_ Ritson conj. _All's one to me._ Ber.
  _All's one to him! what_ Anon. conj.

  [132-139, 143-145, 161-163, 176, 177, 181, 182, 193, 194, 206,
  217-222, 244-246, 254-256, 264] are marked as 'Asides' by Capell.

  [133] _You're_] _Y'are_ Ff.

  [135] _theoric_] _theory_ Rowe.

  [152] _live_] _die_ S. Walker conj. _leave_ Staunton conj. _shrive_
  Anon. conj.

  _this_] _but this_ Hanmer. See note (XIV).

  [155] _Guiltian_] _Julian_ S. Walker conj.

  [155, 156] _and fifty_] Rowe (ed. 2). _fifty_ F1 F2. om. F3 F4.

  [157] _and fifty_] Rowe (ed. 2). _fifty_ Ff.

  [163] _condition_] F1. _conditions_ F2 F3 F4.

  [165] _i'the_] i'th F1 F3 F4. _it'h_ F2.

  [167] _wars_] F1 F2 F3. _war_ F4.

  [170] _particular_] _particulars_ Capell.

  [171] _inter'gatories_] _interrogatories_ F4. _interrogatory_ Capell.

  [173] _a'_] _a_ Ff. _he_ Rowe.

  [174] _shrieve's_] _sheriff's_ Hanmer.

  [175] [Dumain lifts up his hand in anger. Johnson.

  [182] _your lordship_] Pope. _your Lord_ Ff. _you Lord_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [185] _this_] F1 F2. _the_ F3 F4.

  [186] _o' the_] _a' th_ Ff.

  [189] _a file_] _the file_ Theobald.

  [195] After this line Johnson supposes one to be lost.

  _gold_] _golden store_ or _golden ore_ Steevens conj. _gold, I speak
  it_ Jackson conj. (reading lines 208-210 in this order 209, 210,
  208).

  [207] First Sold. [reads] Int. Let. Ff. Inter. reads the letter.
  Rowe.

  [209] _well made_] _ill made_ Capell conj. _half made_ Jackson conj.

  _match, and well_] _match well and_ Hanmer. _watch, and well_ Johnson
  conj. (who would read the lines 207-210 in the following order, 209,
  207, 208, 210).

  _and well_] _an' we'll_ Steevens conj.

  [212] _not_] _but_ Pope (ed. 2. Theobald).

  [213] _count's_] _count_ F2.

  [214] _when_] _where_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [218] _in's_] _in his_ Rowe.

  [222] _now_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [223] _the_] F3 F4. _your_ F1 F2. _our_ Capell.

  [227] _i' the_] _i' th_ Ff.

  [228] _or_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.

  [233] _an egg_] _an Ag._ (i.e. _Agnes_) Becket conj.

  [235] _in breaking_] F1. _breaking_ F2 F3 F4.

  _'em_] _em_ F1 F2 F3. _them_ F4.

  [246] _he's_] _he is_ Pope.

  [248] _has_] _ha's_ Ff. _h'as_ Rowe.

  [254] _out-villained_] _out-villanied_ S. Walker conj.

  [259] _quart d'écu_] Pope. _cardceue_ F1. _cardecue_ F2 F3 F4.

  [261] _for it_] _in it_ Hanmer.

  [266] _o' the_] _a' th_ F1 F2 F4, _at'h_ F3.

  [270] _has_] _ha's_ F1.

  [276] [Aside] Rowe (ed. 2).

  [279] _this danger_] _danger_ Rowe.

  [288] [Unblinding him.] Rowe (ed. 1). [Unbinding him. Rowe (ed. 2).
  [Unmuffling him. Steevens.

  [291, 293] Sec. Lord.] Lo. E. F1.

  [296] _the sonnet_] F1 F2. _the same sonnet_ F3 F4. _that same sonnet_
  Rowe.

  [297] _an_] _and_ Ff. _if_ Pope.

  [298] [Exeunt B. and Lords.] Exeunt. Ff.

  [305] [Exit...] Exit. Ff.

  [306] SCENE VI. Pope.

  _am I_] _I am_ Hanmer.

  [312] After this S. Walker conjectures that a line has been omitted.


SCENE IV. _Florence. The_ Widow's _house._

_Enter_ HELENA, Widow, _and_ DIANA.

    _Hel._ That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,
    One of the greatest in the Christian world
    Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,
    Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel:
    Time was, I did him a desired office,                              5
    Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
    Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
    And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd
    His Grace is at Marseilles; to which place
    We have convenient convoy. You must know,                         10
    I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
    My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
    And by the leave of my good lord the king,
    We'll be before our welcome.

    _Wid._                    Gentle madam,
    You never had a servant to whose trust                            15
    Your business was more welcome.

    _Hel._                         Nor you, mistress,
    Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
    To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven
    Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
    As it hath fated her to be my motive                              20
    And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
    That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
    When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
    Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play
    With what it loathes for that which is away.                      25
    But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
    Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
    Something in my behalf.

    _Dia._                    Let death and honesty
    Go with your impositions, I am yours
    Upon your will to suffer.

    _Hel._                    Yet, I pray you:                        30
    But with the word the time will bring on summer,
    When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns,
    And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
    Our waggon is prepared, and time revives us:
    ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL: still the fine's the crown;            35
    Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.       [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE VII. Pope.

  [3] _'fore_] _for_ F1.

  [6] _which_] _for which_ Hanmer.

  [9] _is at_] _it_ F2.

  _Marseilles_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Marcellæ_ F1. _Marsellis_ F2 F3.
  _Marselis_ F4.

  [16] _you_] F4. _your_ F1 F2 F3.

  [23] _saucy trusting of_] Ff. _fancy trusting in_ Hanmer. _fancy
  trusting of_ Warburton.

  [30, 31] _I pray you: But with the word_] Ff. _I pray you, Bear with
  the word:_ Hanmer. _I pray you, But with the word:_ Capell. _I pray
  you,--But with the word,_ Steevens (Henley conj.). _I fray you But
  with the word:_ Collier (Blackstone conj.). _I play you But with the
  word:_ Jackson conj. _I pray you: But with the world_ Collier MS. _I
  pay you But with the word;_ Grant White. _I pay you But with the
  word,_ Staunton conj.

  [31-33] _But ... away_] _But--with the word 'The time ... sharp,'--we
  must away_ Anon. conj.

  [34] _revives_] Ff. _reviles_ Hanmer. _revyes_ Warburton. _invites_
  Johnson and Heath conj.

  [35] _the fine's_] Theobald. _the fines_ F1. _that fines_ F2 F3. _that
  finds_ F4.

  [36] _course_] _curse_ Rowe (ed. 2).


SCENE V. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _palace._

_Enter_ COUNTESS, LAFEU, _and_ Clown.

    _Laf._ No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta
    fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have
    made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his
    colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour,
    and your son here at home, more advanced by the king               5
    than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.

    _Count._ I would I had not known him; it was the death
    of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had
    praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh, and
    cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have          10
    owed her a more rooted love.

    _Laf._ 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may
    pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb.

    _Clo._ Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the
    salad, or rather, the herb of grace.                              15

    _Laf._ They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.

    _Clo._ I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not
    much skill in grass.

    _Laf._ Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool?      20

    _Clo._ A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a
    man's.

    _Laf._ Your distinction?

    _Clo._ I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service.

    _Laf._ So you were a knave at his service, indeed.                25

    _Clo._ And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do
    her service.

    _Laf._ I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and
    fool.

    _Clo._ At your service.                                           30

    _Laf._ No, no, no.

    _Clo._ Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as
    great a prince as you are.

    _Laf._ Who's that? a Frenchman?

    _Clo._ Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy        35
    is more hotter in France than there.

    _Laf._ What prince is that?

    _Clo._ The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of darkness;
    alias, the devil.

    _Laf._ Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to       40
    suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still.

    _Clo._ I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a
    great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire.
    But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain
    in's court. I am for the house with the narrow gate,              45
    which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some that
    humble themselves may; but the many will be too chill
    and tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that leads
    to the broad gate and the great fire.

    _Laf._ Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and             50
    I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee.
    Go thy ways: let my horses be well looked to, without any
    tricks.

    _Clo._ If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades'
    tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature.           55
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Laf._ A shrewd knave and an unhappy.

    _Count._ So he is. My lord that's gone made himself
    much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here,
    which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed,
    he has no pace, but runs where he will.                           60

    _Laf._ I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about
    to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and that
    my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the
    king my master to speak in the behalf of my daughter;
    which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a        65
    self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness
    hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure
    he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter.
    How does your ladyship like it?

    _Count._ With very much content, my lord; and I wish              70
    it happily effected.

    _Laf._ His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as
    able body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here to-morrow,
    or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence
    hath seldom failed.                                               75

    _Count._ It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere
    I die. I have letters that my son will be here to-night: I
    shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till they
    meet together.

    _Laf._ Madam, I was thinking with what manners I                  80
    might safely be admitted.

    _Count._ You need but plead your honourable privilege.

    _Laf._ Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I
    thank my God it holds yet.

_Re-enter_ Clown.

    _Clo._ O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a                  85
    patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't
    or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet:
    his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right
    cheek is worn bare.

    _Laf._ A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery        90
    of honour; so belike is that.

    _Clo._ But it is your carbonadoed face.

    _Laf._ Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to
    talk with the young noble soldier.

    _Clo._ Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine          95
    hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head and
    nod at every man.                                 [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  COUNTESS,2] Old Lady, Ff.

  [5] _advanced_] _advantaged_ Warburton.

  [6] _than by that_] _but for that_ Hanmer.

  [7] _I had_] _he had_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).

  [13] _salads_] _sallets_ Ff.

  [15] _salad_] _sallet_ Ff.

  [16] _herbs_] Ff. _sallet-herbs_ Rowe. _pot-herbs_ Collier MS.

  [19] _grass_] Rowe. _grace_ Ff.

  [24] _his wife_] _this wife_ F2.

  [26] _bauble_] _folly_ Hanmer.

  [34] _Who's_] F4. _Whose_ F1 F2 F3.

  [35] _a'_] _a_ Ff. he Rowe (ed. 2).

  _name_] Rowe. _maine_ F1 F2. _main_ F3. _mean_ F4. _mien_ Anon. conj.

  [36] _hotter_] _honour'd_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  _there_] F1 F2. _here_ F3 F4.

  [41] _suggest_] _seduce_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [42] _I am_] _I'm_ Theobald.

  [43, 44] _fire But, sure, he ... world;_] _fire, but sure he ...
  world,_ Ff. _fire; but since he ... world,_ Hanmer. _fire. But, for he
  ... world,_ Capell.

  [44] _his_] _the_ Collier MS.

  [54] _sir_] om. Rowe.

  [57] _he_] Rowe. _a_ Ff.

  [60] _pace_] _place_ Hanmer.

  _runs_] _he runs_ F3 F4.

  [72] _Marseilles_] Pope. _Marcellus_ F1. _Marsellis_ F2. _Marselles_
  F3 F4.

  [73] _he_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a_ Ff. _and_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [76] _It_] _Ir_ F1. _I_ F2.

  _that I hope I_] _that hope that I_ Warburton.

  [90] Laf.] F1. La. F2 F3 F4. Count Rowe.

  [90, 91] _A scar ... that_] Printed as three lines in Ff, ending _got
  ... honour ... that_.

  [92] _carbonadoed_] Theobald. _carbinado'd_ Ff.

  [93] Laf.] F1 F3 F4. La. F2 (and frequently in this scene).

  [93, 94] _Let us ... soldier_] Printed as three lines in Ff, ending
  _see ... talk ... soldier_.




ACT V.

SCENE I. _Marseilles. A street._


_Enter_ HELENA, Widow, _and_ DIANA, _with two_ Attendants.

    _Hel._ But this exceeding posting day and night
    Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it:
    But since you have made the days and nights as one,
    To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
    Be bold you do so grow in my requital                              5
    As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;

_Enter a_ Gentleman.

    This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
    If he would spend his power. God save you, sir.

    _Gent._ And you.

    _Hel._ Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.               10

    _Gent._ I have been sometimes there.

    _Hel._ I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen
    From the report that goes upon your goodness;
    And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,
    Which lay nice manners by, I put you to                           15
    The use of your own virtues, for the which
    I shall continue thankful.

    _Gent._                   What's your will?

    _Hel._ That it will please you
    To give this poor petition to the king,
    And aid me with that store of power you have                      20
    To come into his presence.

    _Gent._ The king's not here.

    _Hel._                    Not here, sir!

    _Gent._                                  Not, indeed:
    He hence removed last night and with more haste
    Than is his use.

    _Wid._                    Lord, how we lose our pains!

    _Hel._ ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet,                             25
    Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
    I do beseech you, whither is he gone?

    _Gent._ Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
    Whither I am going.

    _Hel._                    I do beseech you, sir,
    Since you are like to see the king before me,                     30
    Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
    Which I presume shall render you no blame
    But rather make you thank your pains for it.
    I will come after you with what good speed
    Our means will make us means.

    _Gent._                   This I'll do for you.                   35

    _Hel._ And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
    Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.
    Go, go, provide.                                  [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  Marseilles. A street.] Capell. The Court of France. Pope.

  [3] _you have_] _you've_ Pope.

  [6] Enter a Gentleman.] Rowe. Enter a gentle Astringer. F1. Enter a
  gentle Astranger. F2. Enter a Gentleman a stranger. F3 F4.

  [16] _virtues_] _virtue_ S. Walker conj.

  [29] _I do_] _I_ Hanmer.

  [35] _make us means._] _make us._ Anon. conj.

  [36-38] Printed as prose in Ff. First as verse by Pope.


SCENE II. _Rousillon._ _Before the_ COUNT'S _palace_.

_Enter_ Clown, _and_ PAROLLES, _following_.

    _Par._ Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this
    letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when
    I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now,
    sir, muddied in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong
    of her strong displeasure.                                         5

    _Clo._ Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
    smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat
    no fish of fortune's buttering. Prithee, allow the wind.

    _Par._ Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I
    spake but by a metaphor.                                          10

    _Clo._ Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my
    nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get thee
    further.

    _Par._ Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

    _Clo._ Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's           15
    close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes
    himself.

_Enter_ LAFEU.

    Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat,--but not
    a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of
    her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: pray         20
    you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor,
    decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his
    distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to your
    lordship.                                           [_Exit._

    _Par._ My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly              25
    scratched.

    _Laf._ And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too
    late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the
    knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of
    herself is a good lady and would not have knaves thrive           30
    long under her? There's a quart d'écu for you: let the
    justices make you and fortune friends: I am for other
    business.

    _Par._ I beseech your honour to hear me one single
    word.                                                             35

    _Laf._ You beg a single penny more: come, you shall
    ha't; save your word.

    _Par._ My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

    _Laf._ You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!
    give me your hand. How does your drum?                            40

    _Par._ O my good lord, you were the first that found
    me!

    _Laf._ Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost
    thee.

    _Par._ It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,        45
    for you did bring me out.

    _Laf._ Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at
    once both the office of God and the devil? One brings thee
    in grace and the other brings thee out.  [_Trumpets sound._]
    The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire        50
    further after me; I had talk of you last night: though
    you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow.

    _Par._ I praise God for you.                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II. Before ... palace.] Edd. Inner-court of the palace. Capell.

  following.] Capell. ill-favoured. Collier MS.

  [1] _Monsieur_] _Mr_ Ff. _Lavache_] Edd. (Tollet conj.).

  _Lavatch_ Ff. _Lapatch_ Jervis conj.

  [4] _mood_] _moat_ Theobald. See note (XVII).

  [10] _spake_] F1. _speake_ F2. _speak_ F3 F4.

  [12] _or against_] _against_ Theobald.

  [18] _Here_] Clo. _Here_ Ff.

  _purr_] _purre_ F1 F2 F3. _pur_ F4. _puss_ Mason conj.

  _or of_] _or_ Warburton.

  [19] _musk-cat_] Theobald. _Muscat_ Ff. _mouse-cat_ Anon. conj.

  _has_] _hath_ Pope.

  [22] _ingenious_] _ingenuous_ Anon. conj.

  [23] _similes_] Theobald (Warburton). _smiles_ Ff.

  [31] _under her?_] F2 F3 F4. _under?_ F1.

  _quart'd'écu_] Pope. _cardecue_ Ff.

  [36] _You_] _If you_ Anon. conj.

  [39] _'word'_] _word_ F1 F2. _one word_ F3 F4. _a word Collier_
  (Egerton MS.).

  [45] _lies in you_] _lies on you_ Capell.

  [49] [Trumpets sound.] Sound trumpets. Theobald, om. Ff.


SCENE III. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _palace_.

_Flourish. Enter_ KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, _the two_ French Lords, _with_
Attendants.

    _King._ We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
    Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
    As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
    Her estimation home.

    _Count._                  'Tis past, my liege;
    And I beseech your majesty to make it                              5
    Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
    When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
    O'erbears it and burns on.

    _King._                   My honour'd lady,
    I have forgiven and forgotten all;
    Though my revenges were high bent upon him,                       10
    And watch'd the time to shoot.

    _Laf._                    This I must say,
    But first I beg my pardon, the young lord
    Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
    Offence of mighty note; but to himself
    The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife                         15
    Whose beauty did astonish the survey
    Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,
    Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
    Humbly call'd mistress.

    _King._                   Praising what is lost
    Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;                20
    We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
    All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
    The nature of his great offence is dead,
    And deeper than oblivion we do bury
    The incensing relics of it: let him approach,                     25
    A stranger, no offender; and inform him
    So 'tis our will he should.

    _Gent._                   I shall, my liege.        [_Exit._

    _King._ What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?

    _Laf._ All that he is hath reference to your highness.

    _King._ Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me        30
    That set him high in fame.

_Enter_ BERTRAM.

    _Laf._                    He looks well on't.

    _King._ I am not a day of season,
    For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
    In me at once: but to the brightest beams
    Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;                  35
    The time is fair again.

    _Ber._                    My high-repented blames,
    Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

    _King._                   All is whole;
    Not one word more of the consumed time.
    Let's take the instant by the forward top;
    For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees                       40
    The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
    Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
    The daughter of this lord?

    _Ber._ Admiringly, my liege, at first
    I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart                          45
    Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
    Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
    Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
    Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
    Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen;                    50
    Extended or contracted all proportions
    To a most hideous object: thence it came
    That she whom all men praised and whom myself,
    Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
    The dust that did offend it.

    _King._                        Well excused:                      55
    That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
    From the great compt: but love that comes too late.
    Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
    To the great sender turns a sour offence,
    Crying 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults                 60
    Make trivial price of serious things we have,
    Not knowing them until we know their grave:
    Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
    Destroy our friends and after weep their dust:
    Our own love waking cries to see what's done,                     65
    While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
    Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
    Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
    The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
    To see our widower's second marriage-day.                         70

    _Count._ Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
    Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!

    _Laf._ Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
    Must be digested, give a favour from you
    To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,                         75
    That she may quickly come. [_Bertram gives a ring._] By my old beard,
    And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
    Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
    The last that e'er I took her leave at court,
    I saw upon her finger.

    _Ber._                    Hers it was not.                        80

    _King._ Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
    While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
    This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,
    I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
    Necessitied to help, that by this token                           85
    I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave her
    Of what should stead her most?

    _Ber._                    My gracious sovereign,
    Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
    The ring was never hers.

    _Count._                  Son, on my life,
    I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it                      90
    At her life's rate.

    _Laf._             I am sure I saw her wear it.

    _Ber._ You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
    In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
    Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
    Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought                  95
    I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed
    To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully
    I could not answer in that course of honour
    As she had made the overture, she ceased
    In heavy satisfaction and would never                            100
    Receive the ring again.

    _King._                Plutus himself,
    That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
    Hath not in nature's mystery more science
    Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
    Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know                           105
    That you are well acquainted with yourself,
    Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
    You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety
    That she would never put it from her finger,
    Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,                           110
    Where you have never come, or sent it us
    Upon her great disaster.

    _Ber._                    She never saw it.

    _King._ Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
    And makest conjectural fears to come into me,
    Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove                  115
    That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;--
    And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
    And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
    Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
    More than to see this ring. Take him away.                       120
                                        [_Guards seize Bertram._

    My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
    Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
    Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him!
    We'll sift this matter further.

    _Ber._                    If you shall prove
    This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy                       125
    Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
    Where yet she never was.                   [_Exit, guarded._

    _King._ I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.

_Enter a Gentleman._

    _Gent._                        Gracious sovereign,
    Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
    Here's a petition from a Florentine,                             130
    Who hath for four or five removes come short
    To tender it herself. I undertook it,
    Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
    Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know
    Is here attending: her business looks in her                     135
    With an importing visage; and she told me,
    In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
    Your highness with herself.

    _King._ [_reads_] Upon his many protestations to marry me
    when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the 140
    Count Rousillon a widower: his vows are forfeited to me, and my
    honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and
    I follow him to his country for justice: grant it me, O king! in
    you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is
    undone.      DIANA CAPILET.                                      145

    _Laf._ I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for
    this: I 'll none of him.

    _King._ The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,
    To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:
    Go speedily and bring again the count.                           150
    I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
    Was foully snatch'd.

    _Count._                  Now, justice on the doers!

_Re-enter_ BERTRAM, _guarded_.

    _King._ I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
    And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
    Yet you desire to marry.

_Enter_ Widow _and_ DIANA.

                              What woman's that?                     155

    _Dia._ I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
    Derived from the ancient Capilet:
    My suit, as I do understand, you know,
    And therefore know how far I may be pitied.

    _Wid._ I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour                160
    Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
    And both shall cease, without your remedy.

    _King._ Come hither, count; do you know these women?

    _Ber._ My lord, I neither can nor will deny
    But that I know them: do they charge me further?                 165

    _Dia._ Why do you look so strange upon your wife?

    _Ber._ She's none of mine, my lord.

    _Dia._                    If you shall marry,
    You give away this hand, and that is mine;
    You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
    You give away myself, which is known mine;                       170
    For I by vow am so embodied yours,
    That she which marries you must marry me,
    Either both or none.

    _Laf._ Your reputation comes too short for my daughter;
    you are no husband for her.                                      175

    _Ber._ My lord, this a fond and desperate creature,
    Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
    Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
    Than for to think that I would sink it here.

    _King._ Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend        180
    Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour
    Than in my thought it lies.

    _Dia._                    Good my lord,
    Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
    He had not my virginity.

    _King._ What say'st thou to her?

    _Ber._                    She's impudent, my lord,               185
    And was a common gamester to the camp.

    _Dia._ He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
    He might have bought me at a common price:
    Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
    Whose high respect and rich validity                             190
    Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
    He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
    If I be one.

    _Count._ He blushes, and 'tis it:
    Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,
    Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,                     195
    Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife;
    That ring's a thousand proofs.

    _King._                   Methought you said
    You saw one here in court could witness it.

    _Dia._ I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
    So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.                       200

    _Laf._ I saw the man to-day, if man he be.

    _King._ Find him, and bring him hither.
                                           [_Exit an Attendant._

    _Ber._                         What of him?
    He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
    With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
    Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.                       205
    Am I or that or this for what he'll utter,
    That will speak any thing?

    _King._                        She hath that ring of yours.

    _Ber._ I think she has: certain it is I liked her,
    And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
    She knew her distance, and did angle for me,                     210
    Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
    As all impediments in fancy's course
    Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
    Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
    Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;                        215
    And I had that which any inferior might
    At market-price have bought.

    _Dia._                    I must be patient:
    You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
    May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
    Since you lack virtue I will lose a husband,                     220
    Send for your ring, I will return it home,
    And give me mine again.

    _Ber._                    I have it not.

    _King._ What ring was yours, I pray you?

    _Dia._                         Sir, much like
    The same upon your finger.

    _King._ Know you this ring? this ring was his of late.           225

    _Dia._ And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.

    _King._ The story then goes false, you threw it him
    Out of a casement.

    _Dia._                    I have spoke the truth.

    _Enter_ PAROLLES.

    _Ber._ My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.

    _King._ You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you.           230
    Is this the man you speak of?

    _Dia._                    Ay, my lord.

    _King._ Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
    Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
    Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
    By him and by this woman here what know you?                     235

    _Par._ So please your majesty, my master hath been
    an honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, which
    gentlemen have.

    _King._ Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this
    woman?                                                           240

    _Par._ Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?

    _King._ How, I pray you?

    _Par._ He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.

    _King._ How is that?

    _Par._ He loved her, sir, and loved her not.                     245

    _King._ As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an
    equivocal companion is this!

    _Par._ I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

    _Laf._ He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.

    _Dia._ Do you know he promised me marriage?                      250

    _Par._ Faith, I know more than I'll speak.

    _King._ But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?

    _Par._ Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between
    them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for indeed
    he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of Limbo,           255
    and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that
    credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to
    bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and
    things which would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore
    I will not speak what I know.                                    260

    _King._ Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst
    say they are married: but thou art too fine in thy evidence;
    therefore stand aside.

    This ring, you say, was yours?

    _Dia._                    Ay, my good lord.

    _King._ Where did you buy it? or who gave it you?                265

    _Dia._ It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.

    _King._ Who lent it you?

    _Dia._                    It was not lent me neither.

    _King._ Where did you find it, then?

    _Dia._                         I found it not.

    _King._ If it were yours by none of all these ways,
    How could you give it him?

    _Dia._                    I never gave it him.                   270

    _Laf._ This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes
    off and on at pleasure.

    _King._ This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.

    _Dia._ It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.

    _King._ Take her away; I do not like her now;                    275
    To prison with her: and away with him.
    Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
    Thou diest within this hour.

    _Dia._                    I'll never tell you.

    _King._ Take her away.

    _Dia._                    I'll put in bail, my liege.

    _King._ I think thee now some common customer.                   280

    _Dia._ By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.

    _King._ Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?

    _Dia._ Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty:
    He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
    I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.                        285
    Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
    I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.

    _King._ She does abuse our ears: to prison with her.

    _Dia._ Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir:
                                                  [_Exit Widow._
    The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,                     290
    And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
    Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
    Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
    He knows himself my bed he hath defiled;
    And at that time he got his wife with child:                     295
    Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
    So there's my riddle,--One that's dead is quick:
    And now behold the meaning.

_Re-enter_ Widow, _with_ HELENA.

    _King._                   Is there no exorcist
    Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
    Is't real that I see?

    _Hel._                    No, my good lord;                      300
    'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
    The name and not the thing.

    _Ber._                    Both, both. O, pardon!

    _Hel._ O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
    I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring;
    And, look you, here's your letter; this it says:                 305
    'When from my finger you can get this ring
    And are by me with child,' &c. This is done:
    Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?

    _Ber._ If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
    I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.                         310

    _Hel._ If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
    Deadly divorce step between me and you!
    O my dear mother, do I see you living?

    _Laf._ Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
    [_To Parolles_] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so,        315
    I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
    Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

    _King._ Let us from point to point this story know,
    To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
    [_To Diana_] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,         320
    Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
    For I can guess that by thy honest aid
    Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
    Of that and all the progress, more or less,
    Resolvedly more leisure shall express:                           325
    All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
    The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.     [_Flourish._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III. The Count's palace.] A Room of State in the Palace. Capell.

  COUNTESS] old Lady Ff.

  [1] _of her_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.

  _esteem_] _estate_ Warburton conj. (withdrawn).

  [6] _blaze_] Warburton. _blade_ Ff.

  [8] _O'erbears ... burns_] _O'er-bear ... burn_ Hanmer.

  [12, 13] _But ... lady_] Hanmer these lines at _did ... lady_.

  [21] _We are_] _We're_ Pope.

  [23] _nature_] _matter_ Hanmer.

  [24] _we do_] _do we_ Reed.

  [28] _What ... spoke?_] As two lines in Ff, ending _daughter ...
  spoke?_

  [30, 31] Printed as prose in Ff. First as verse by Pope.

  [31] _set_] Rowe. _sets_ Ff.

  [32] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  SCENE IV. Pope.

  Enter Bertram.] Enter Count Bertram. Ff.

  [39] _forward_] _forehead_ Anon. conj.

  [44] _Admiringly, my liege, at first_] F3 F4. _Admiringly my liege, at
  first_ F1 F2. _Admiringly, my liege. At first_ Rowe. _Admiringly, my
  liege. Even at first_ Hanmer. _Admiringly, my liege; at the first
  sight_ Capell. _Admiringly. My liege, at first_ Collier.

  [49] _warp'd_] _warpt_ F1 F2. _wrapt_ F3 F4.

  [50] _Scorn'd_] _Scorch'd_ Hanmer (Warburton). _Scors'd_ Becket conj.

  [58, 59] _Like ... offence,_] (_Like ... To an offender_) _turns to
  sour repentance_Hanmer.

  _carried, ... sender_] Theobald. _carried ... sender,_ Ff. _carried,
  ... sender_, Rowe.

  [59] _sour_] _sore_ Collier MS.

  [60] _that's gone_] _that is gone_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _Our_] _Our own_ Capell.

  _faults_] _thoughts_ Long MS.

  [61] _trivial_] _triviall_ F1 F2. _triall_ F3. _trial_ F4.

  [65, 66] _Our ... afternoon_] omitted in Collier MS.

  [65] _own_] _old_ Collier (Mason conj.).

  [66] _shameful hate_] _shapeful hate_ F4. _shame full late_ W. G. C.
  (Fras. Mag.) conj.

  _sleeps_] _slept_ Johnson conj.

  [67, 68] _forget her ... fair Maudlin_] _forget ... Margaret_ Anon.
  conj.

  [71] Count.] Theobald. Continued to King in Ff. _O dear_] _dear_
  Lloyd conj.

  [72] _meet_,] Rowe. _meet_ F1 F2. _meet_ F3 F4.

  _in me_] _in one_ Long MS. _cesse_] F1. _ceasse_ F2. _ceass_ F3.
  _cease_ F4.

  [74] _digested_] F1 F4. _disgested_ F2 F3.

  [76] [B. gives a ring.] Hanmer.

  [79] _that e'er I_] _that ere I_ Ff. _that e'er she_ Rowe. _time e'er
  she_ Hanmer. _time, ere she_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  _that ... leave_] _leave that I took of her_ Jervis conj.

  [85] _Necessitied_] F1 F2 F3. _Necessited_ F4.

  [90] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [91] _life's_] Rowe. _lives_ Ff.

  _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [96] _engaged_] Rowe. _ingag'd_ Ff. _ungag'd_ Theobald. _in gage_
  Jackson conj.

  [101] _Plutus_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Platus_] Ff.

  [110] _yourself_] _you selfe_ F2.

  [114] _conjectural_] _connecturall_ F1.

  [115] _would fain_] _should fain_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  _out._] _out_, F1 F2 F3. _out_; F4.

  [120] [_Guards_ seize B.] Rowe.

  [122] _tax_] F3 F4. _taxe_ F2. _taze_ F1.

  [127] [Exit, guarded.] Rowe.

  [128] SCENE v. Pope.

  _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  _thinkings_] _thinking_ Rowe.

  Enter....] Ff (after line 127). Enter the Astringer. Grant White.

  [129] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  _to blame_] _too blame_ Ff.

  [131] _hath_] _had_ Heath conj.

  _for four_] _some four_ Warburton.

  [136] _importing_] _important_ Boswell (1821).

  [139] King, [reads] A letter. Ff. The King reads a letter. Rowe.

  [143] _his_] F1 F2. _this_ F3 F4.

  [144] _you it best_] _your breast it_ Hanmer.

  [145, 157] _Capilet_] Ff. _Capulet_ Rowe.

  [146] _fair_] _faire_ F1. _feare_ F2. _fear_ F3 F4.

  _and toll_] _a toule_ Becket conj.

  [146, 147] _toll for this_: _I'll_] _toule for this. Ile_ F1. _toule
  him for this. Ile_ F2 F3 F4. _toll for him. For this, I'll_ Theobald,
  _toll him: for this, I'll_ Steevens. _toll: for this, I'll_ Collier
  (Mason conj.). _towl him: for this, I'll_ Grant White.

  [147] _this ... him_] _him ... this_ Anon, conj.

  [150] [Exeunt some Attendants. Capell. Exeunt Gentleman and some
  Attendants. Malone.

  [151] _afeard_] _afraid_ Rowe.

  [152] Re-enter B., guarded.] Capell. Enter Bertram. Ff (after line
  150).

  [153] _sir, sith wives are monsters_

  Dyce. _sir, sir, wives are monsters_ F1. _sir, wives are such
  monsters_ F2. _sir, wives are so monstrous_ F3 F4. _sir, since wives
  are monsters_ Steevens (Tyrwhitt conj.). _sir, sin wives are monsters_
  Becket conj. _sir, for wives are monsters_ Collier (Egerton MS.).

  [154] _them lordship_] _to them_ Rowe (ed. 2). _them worship_ Anon.
  conj.

  [155] _marry_] _wed_ Pope.

  Enter Widow and Diana.

  Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parolles. Ff. Re-enter Gentleman with Widow
  and Diana. Malone. Enter the Astringer with ... Grant White.

  [157] _Capilet_] _Capulets_ Heath conj.

  [163] _hither_] F2 F3 F4. _hether_ F1.

  _count; do you_] _count; do you not_ Hanmer. _count; say, do you_
  Capell. _county, do you_ S. Walker conj.

  [168] _that is_] _this is_ or _that were_ Seymour conj.

  [170] _myself_] _my flesh_ Hanmer.

  [174] _too_] om. Hanmer, who reads lines 174, 175 as verse, ending
  _comes ... her._

  [To Bertram. Rowe.

  [179] _Than for_] _Than e'er_ Pope. _Than so_ Collier MS.

  [181] _them: fairer_] Hanmer (Theobald conj.). _them fairer_: Ff.

  [182] _Good_] _Now, good_ Hanmer.

  [192, 204] _o'_] Rowe. _a'_ Ff.

  [193] Count.] Coun. F1. Boun. F2. Old La. F3 F4.

  _'tis it_] Capell. _'tis hit_ Ff. _'tis his_ Pope. _is hit_ Malone
  conj. _'tis fit_ Henley conj.

  [195] _to the sequent_] _to 'th sequent_ F1 F2. _to th' sequent_ F3
  F4. _to th' subsequent_ Pope.

  [196] _it_] _so_ Hanmer.

  [202] [Exit an Attendant. Dyce.

  _him?_] F2 F3 F4. _him_: F1.

  [205] _Whose nature sickens but ... truth._] Hanmer. _Whose nature
  sickens: but ... truth,_ Ff. _Which nature sickens with: but to speak
  truth_, Rowe.

  [210] _for me_] F1. _of me_ F2 F3 F4.

  [214] _infinite cunning_] Singer (S. Walker conj.). _insuite comming_
  F1. _insuit comming_ F2 F3. _insuit coming_ F4. _in suit coming_
  Hanmer. _insuit cunning_ Easy conj. _instant comity_ Bubier conj.

  _infinite ... grace_] _own suit joining with her mothers, scarce_
  Heath conj.

  _modern_] _modest_ Long MS.

  [216] _any_] _an_ or _my_ S. Walker conj.

  [218] _have turn'd off_] Ff. _turn'd off_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [219] _diet_] _edict_ Jackson conj.

  [221] _it_] _this_ Hanmer.

  [223, 224] _Sir, ... finger_] Metre as in Capell. As one line in Ff.
  _Much like that same upon your finger, sir._ Hanmer.

  [228] Dia. _I have ... truth_] omitted by Rowe.

  [Enter P.] Ff. Re-enter Attendant, with P. Dyce (after line 230).

  [229] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [231] _Ay_] _It is_ Theobald.

  [232] _Tell me, sirrah_] _Now tell me, sirrah_ Capell.

  _sirrah, but tell me true_] _but tell me true, sirrah_ Hanmer.

  [236] _gentleman_] _gentlemen_ F2.

  [241, 242] _but how?_ King. _How_,] King. _But how, how_, Malone
  conj.

  [243] _gentleman_] Rowe. _Gent._ Ff.

  [246] _knave._] _knave_, Ff. _knave_; Rowe.

  [252] _But_] _What_! Capell conj.

  [254] _than that, he_] F4. _then that_ _he_ F1 F2. _then that, he_ F3.

  _loved her_:] _lov'd her_,--Capell.

  [259] _which_] F1 F2. _that_ F3 F4.

  [261-263] Collier prints as three lines ending _canst ... fine ...
  aside._

  [266] _nor I did not_] F1 F2. _nor did not_ F3 F4. _nor did I_
  Theobald.

  [270] _gave it_] _gave't_ S. Walker conj.

  [281] _Jove_] _God_ Nicholson conj.

  [To Lafeu. Hanmer.

  [287] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  _old_] om. Long MS.

  [Pointing to Laf. Rowe.

  [289] [Exit Widow.] Pope.

  [298] Re-enter...] Capell. Enter Hellen and Widow. Ff.

  [307] _And are_] Rowe. _And is_ Ff.

  _This is done_] _This now is done_ Hanmer.

  [315-317] Hanmer prints as three lines ending _handkerchief, ... with
  thee: ... ones._

  [315] [To Parolles] Rowe.

  _Good ... handkercher_] as a verse in Ff. _Now good._... Hanmer.

  _handkercher_] _handkerchief_ Rowe.

  [316] _I thank_] _'thank_ Hanmer.

  [320] [To Diana] Rowe.

  [323] _Thou kept'st_] _Thou'st kept_ Anon. conj.

  _kept'st_] _keptst_ F1. _keeptst_ F2. _keepest_ F3 F4. _keep'st_ Rowe
  (ed. 1). _kep'st_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [324] _or_] _and_ Theobald.

  [325] _Resolvedly_] F4. _Resoldvedly_ F1. _Resoldv'dly_ F2 F3.

  [327] [Flourish.] Ff. Exeunt. Rowe.




EPILOGUE.


    _King._ The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
    All is well ended, if this suit be won,
    That you express content; which we will pay,
    With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
    Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts;                   5
    Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  EPILOGUE.] Rowe. EPILOGUE spoken by the King. Pope. Advancing. Capell.

  [4.] _strife_] _strift_ F1.

  _exceeding_] _succeeding._ See note (XVIII).




NOTES.


NOTE I.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. In the Folios Rousillon is spelt, almost without
exception, 'Rossillion,' and Helena in the stage directions 'Hellen.' As
the Clown's name occurs in the play we have introduced it among the
'Dramatis Personæ,' changing however the spelling from 'Lavatch' to
'Lavache.'

Violenta, whose name occurs in the stage direction at the beginning of
Act III. Sc. 5, is a mute personage, but as it is possible that Diana's
first speech in that scene should be given to her, we have retained the
name in the list.


NOTE II.

I. 1. 153. It cannot be doubted that there is some omission here. The
editors, except Steevens, who is satisfied with the text as it stands,
substantially agree either with Hanmer's emendation or Malone's. Mr
Grant White, however, thinks that in either case the transition would be
too abrupt and that the passage omitted was longer and more important.

If it were not for the

          'Pretty fond adoptious christendoms
    That blinking Cupid gossips,'

we should be inclined to suppose that the whole passage was by another
hand. Indeed all the foregoing dialogue between Helena and Parolles is a
blot on the play. Mr Badham (_Cambridge Essays_, 1856, p. 256) would
strike out the whole passage (105-152) from 'Ay, you have &c.' to 'Will
you any thing with it?' as an interpolation.


NOTE III.

I. 3. 50. No one has been able to discover the origin of the names
'Charbon' and 'Poysam,' or to guess at any probable meaning for them.
Yet it is not likely that they should have been given at random. Is it
possible that Shakespeare may have written 'Chairbonne' and 'Poisson,'
alluding to the respective lenten fare of the Puritan and the Papist?

The same suggestion was made independently by Mr Easy (_Notes and
Queries_, 3rd S. IV. 106) after the present note was in the printers'
hands (Ibid. p. 203).


NOTE IV.

I. 3. 106. We have not inserted Theobald's admirable emendation in the
text, because it is probable that something more has been omitted,
perhaps a whole line of the MS.

Becket would transpose the sentences and read thus:

'... level. This she delivered ... exclaim in.--Queen of Virgins! that
... afterward. This I held....'

We take this opportunity of saying that many of Becket's proposed
changes are so sweeping that we found it impossible to record them in
the compass of a foot-note, and at the same time so improbable, that we
did not think it worth while to record them separately at the end.


NOTE V.

I. 3. 118. We have followed the Folios in placing Helena's entry after
line 118, rather than after 126, as most recent editors have done. The
Countess may be supposed to be observing Helena earnestly as she enters
with slow step and downcast eyes. Her words have thus more force and
point.


NOTE VI.

II. 1. 1, 2. The editors have for the most part followed Hanmer's
correction 'lord ... lord' for 'lords ... lords,' the reading of the
Folios, on the ground that there is no reason why the lords who are
taking leave should be divided into two sections. But from the stage
direction 'divers young Lords,' it is clear that there are more than
two. Mr Staunton thinks that the king first addresses himself to the
young lords in general, and then turns to the two who are spokesmen in
the scene and bids them share in the advice just given to their
companions.

We rather incline to think that the young lords are divided into two
sections according as they intended to take service with the
'Florentines' or the 'Senoys.' The king had said, I. 2. 13-15]

    Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
    The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
    To stand on either part.

Throughout this scene the two speakers whom Rowe and all subsequent
editors have called 'First' and 'Second Lord' are called in the Folios
'Lord G.' and 'Lord E.' In all likelihood, as Capell has suggested, the
parts were originally played by two actors whose names began
respectively with G and E; and, in fact, in the list of 'Principall
Actors' prefixed to the first Folio we find the names 'Gilburne,'
'Goughe' and 'Ecclestone.' The same actors doubtless took the parts of
the two gentlemen who bring the letter to Helena in the 2nd scene of Act
III., and who in the stage directions of the Folio are termed '_Fren.
G._' and '_Fren. E._' Mr Collier indeed interprets these words to mean
'French Envoy' and 'French Gentleman,' but they are spoken of as 'two
gentlemen' in the stage direction at line 41, and one was as much an
'envoy' as the other. This interpretation moreover leaves the 'G.' and
'E.' of the former scene and of subsequent scenes quite unexplained.
Some have supposed the 'two gentlemen' of III. 1, to be the same as the
'two lords' of II. 1, and as far as the action of the Drama is
concerned, there is no reason why they should not be, but when the two
lords reappear in III. 6 they are introduced thus; 'Enter Count
Rossillion and the Frenchmen, as at first:' which seems to prove that
the two gentlemen were different persons though played by the same
actors. In this latter scene the two lords are called Cap. G. and Cap.
E. according to their rank in the Florentine service. The confusion of
speakers in the dialogue at the close of this scene will be remedied if
we suppose the Folio to have printed _Cap. G._ by mistake for _Cap. E._
in line 97 and _Cap. E._ for _Cap. G._ in lines 99, 105. 'Lord E.'
appears again in IV. 1, and 'Cap. G.' and 'Cap. E.' in IV. 3.


NOTE VII.

II. 1. 3. Johnson in his note to this passage says that all the latter
copies have '... if both again,' and that Sir T. Hanmer reads 'if both
gain all.' The statement as to Hanmer's reading was corrected in the
'Steevens and Johnson' of 1793, but that as to all the latter copies,
though equally erroneous, was allowed to remain.


NOTE VIII.

II. 1. 23. In the absence of any guidance from the Folios we have
thought it better to follow Pope, who makes the king leave the stage,
than Capell, who supposes that he retires to a couch. Bertram and
Parolles could hardly, consistently with the etiquette of a court, or
indeed the rules of good manners (of which Shakespeare had an
instinctive knowledge), carry on a whispered conversation in the royal
presence. The king we may suppose is carried out on a couch. When
Bertram says, 'Stay: the king,' the ushers in attendance throw open the
folding doors at the back of the stage, Bertram and Parolles retire
close to one of the side doors, and while they are speaking together
then the king is borne in upon his couch to the front of the stage. To
say that the king retires to a couch, as Capell does, would imply that
he was able to walk, but from what Lafeu says, lines 61, 62, it is clear
that he could not even stand. We must therefore suppose that he is
reclining on a couch throughout the whole scene. Thus, at his first
appearance, his illness would be made evident to the spectators. After
they have set the couch down, the attendants retire to the back of the
stage so as to be out of ear-shot.


NOTE IX.

II. 1. 46. As printed in the Folios, the words 'what will ye do?' seem
to be a taunt addressed, after the speaker's manner, to the young lords
when their backs were turned and they were out of hearing.


NOTE X.

II. 1. 142. The correction made by Theobald is found also in a MS. note
on the margin of the copy of the first Folio, which belongs to Lord
Ellesmere, i.e. 'ffits' for 'shifts.' Theobald's emendation 'loneliness'
for 'loveliness,' I. 3. 162, is also found there.


NOTE XI.

II. 3. 282. In the margin of the third Folio belonging to the Capell
collection an unknown hand has made the correction 'detested' for
'detected.'


NOTE XII.

II. 5. 36. Another reading proposed by an anonymous correspondent of
Theobald's will be found in his Letters to Warburton, Nichols'
_Illustrations_, II. 346.


NOTE XIII.

III. 3. 3. Mr Grant White says that the Folio has merely '_Sir
it_'--'_is_' having dropped out. He appears to have quoted from the
reprint of the first Folio, published in 1808. The copies to which we
have access read '_Sir it is_.'


NOTE XIV.

III. 7. 22. In this, as in so many other cases, Capell was the first to
restore the true reading from F1. Steevens follows him, but as usual
without acknowledgement. Sometimes as at V. 3. 193, he passes his
authority over in silence, sometimes as at I. 2. 35, he sedulously
attributes to some one else that which was undoubtedly Capell's by
priority of publication. At IV. 3. 152 he assigns to an anonymous
correspondent a reading which Hanmer had introduced. Steevens probably
derived his knowledge of it from Capell, who had adopted it. Such
unworthy practices go far to explain and justify the enmities of which
Steevens was the object during his life-time.


NOTE XV.

IV. 2. 25. The word _Jove's_ has here probably been substituted for the
original _God's_ in obedience to the statute against profanity. Read
_'God's'_ and all is plain. 'How,' asks Diana, 'can you believe me if I
swear by the purity and holiness of God to do an impure and unholy
deed?'

Johnson said in his note that he could hardly distinguish whether the
reading of the first Folio were _Iove's_ or _Love's_. Ritson, who was
not ashamed lusco dicere 'lusce,' taunted him bitterly.


NOTE XVI.

IV. 3. 55. Mr Singer says that the old copy (meaning the first Folio)
misprints _selfe_ for _itselfe_. Mr Collier tells us that some copies of
F1 have _itselfe_. All the copies we know of read it _selfe_.


NOTE XVII.

V. 2. 4. Warburton adopts Theobald's reading and copies in substance his
note, but he has not claimed it in his copy of Theobald's edition. The
conjecture was originally made in one of Theobald's letters to
Warburton, Capell adopted the emendation, but afterwards repented.


NOTE XVIII.

EPILOGUE, 4. Mr Collier, in his second edition, quotes this substitution
of 'succeeding' for 'exceeding,' but does not say by whom it was
proposed.




TWELFTH NIGHT;

OR,

WHAT YOU WILL.




DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[9].


    ORSINO, Duke of Illyria.

    SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola.

    ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian.

    A Sea Captain, friend to Viola.

    VALENTINE, }
                }gentlemen attending on the Duke.
    CURIO,     }

    SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia.

    SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.

    MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia.

    FABIAN,          }
                      } servants to Olivia.
    FESTE, a Clown,  }


    OLIVIA.

    VIOLA.

    MARIA, Olivia's woman.


    Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.


    SCENE: _A city in Illyria, and the sea-coast near it._

FOOTNOTE:

  [9] First given by Rowe. See note (I).




TWELFTH NIGHT;

OR,

WHAT YOU WILL.




ACT I.

SCENE I. _An apartment in the_ DUKE'S _palace_.


_Enter_ DUKE, CURIO, _and other_ Lords; Musicians _attending_.

    _Duke._ If music be the food of love, play on;
    Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
    The appetite may sicken, and so die.
    That strain again! it had a dying fall:
    O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,                       5
    That breathes upon a bank of violets,
    Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
    'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
    O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
    That, notwithstanding thy capacity                                10
    Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
    Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
    But falls into abatement and low price,
    Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
    That it alone is high fantastical.                                15

    _Cur._ Will you go hunt, my lord?

    _Duke._                        What, Curio?

    _Cur._ The hart.

    _Duke._ Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
    O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
    Methought she purged the air of pestilence!                       20
    That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
    And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
    E'er since pursue me.

_Enter_ VALENTINE.

                              How now! what news from her?

    _Val._ So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
    But from her handmaid do return this answer:                      25
    The element itself, till seven years' heat,
    Shall not behold her face at ample view;
    But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
    And water once a day her chamber round
    With eye-offending brine: all this to season                      30
    A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
    And lasting in her sad remembrance.

    _Duke._ O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
    To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
    How will she love, when the rich golden shaft                     35
    Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
    That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
    These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
    Her sweet perfections with one self king!
    Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:                          40
    Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  TWELFTH NIGHT] TWELFE NIGHT F1.

  Musicians ...] Musick ... Capell. om. Ff.

  [2, 3] _surfeiting, The appetite may_] _surfeiting The app'tite, Love
  may_ Warburton.

  [5] _sound_] Ff. _wind_ Rowe (ed. 1). _south_ Pope. _sou' wind_ Anon.
  conj. _scent_ Dent MS. apud Halliwell. _sough_ Anon. conj.

  [11] _sea_,] Rowe (ed. 2). _sea_. Ff. _sea_; Rowe (ed. 1).

  [14] _is fancy_] _in fancy_ Theobald (Warburton).

  [15] That it alone is] _And thou all o'er art_ Hanmer.

  _high_] _hight_ Warburton.

  [16] _Curio_] _Curia_ F4.

  [19] _mine_] _my_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [20] _Methought_ ... _pestilence!_] (_Methought_ ... _pestilence_)
  Capell.

  [23] _E'er_] Rowe. _Ere_ F1 F2 F4. _E're_ F3.

  Enter V.] Ff (_after her_).

  [26] _years' heat_] Harness. _yeares heate_ F1 F2. _yeares heat_ F3.
  _years heat_ F4. _years hence_ Rowe (ed. 2). See note (II).

  [29] _chamber_] F1. _chambers_ F2 F3 F4. _chamber's_ Capell.

  [32] _remembrance_] _remembrance still_ Pope, _rememberance_ Capell
  conj. MS.

  [38] _These_] _Three_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [38, 39] _are ... fill'd Her ... perfections_] _are ... fill'd_, (_O
  sweet perfection!_) Warburton conj. _are ... filled_, _Her ...
  perfections_, Pope. _are ... fill'd_, (_Her sweet perfection_) Capell.
  her ... perfections Are ... fill'd Collier conj.

  [39] _self_] _selfe_ F1. _selfe same_ F2. _self same_ F3. _self-same_
  F4.

  [41] _Love-thoughts_] F1 F2 F3. _Love thoughts_ F4.


SCENE II. _The sea-coast._

_Enter_ VIOLA, _a_ Captain, _and_ Sailors.

    _Vio._ What country, friends, is this?

    _Cap._ This is Illyria, lady.

    _Vio._ And what should I do in Illyria?
    My brother he is in Elysium.
    Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors?              5

    _Cap._ It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

    _Vio._ O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.

    _Cap._ True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
    Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
    When you and those poor number saved with you                     10
    Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
    Most provident in peril, bind himself,
    Courage and hope both teaching him the practice,
    To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
    Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,                          15
    I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
    So long as I could see.

    _Vio._ For saying so, there's gold:
    Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
    Whereto thy speech serves for authority,                          20
    The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

    _Cap._ Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
    Not three hours' travel from this very place.

    _Vio._ Who governs here?

    _Cap._ A noble Duke, in nature as in name.                        25

    _Vio._ What is his name?

    _Cap._ Orsino.

    _Vio._ Orsino! I have heard my father name him:
    He was a bachelor then.

    _Cap._ And so is now, or was so very late;                        30
    For but a month ago I went from hence,
    And then 'twas fresh in murmur,--as, you know,
    What great ones do the less will prattle of,--
    That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

    _Vio._ What's she?                                                35

    _Cap._ A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
    That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her
    In the protection of his son, her brother,
    Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
    They say, she hath abjured the company                            40
    And sight of men.

    _Vio._          O that I served that lady,
    And might not be delivered to the world,
    Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
    What my estate is!

    _Cap._           That were hard to compass;
    Because she will admit no kind of suit,                           45
    No, not the Duke's.

    _Vio._ There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
    And though that nature with a beauteous wall
    Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
    I will believe thou hast a mind that suits                        50
    With this thy fair and outward character.
    I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
    Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
    For such disguise as haply shall become
    The form of my intent. I'll serve this Duke:                      55
    Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him:
    It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
    And speak to him in many sorts of music,
    That will allow me very worth his service.
    What else may hap to time I will commit;                          60
    Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

    _Cap._ Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
    When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

    _Vio._ I thank thee: lead me on.                  [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.: The sea-coast] Capell. The street. Rowe.

  [2] _This is_] om. Pope.

  [7] _and so_] _so_ Pope.

  [10] _those_] _that_ Rowe (ed. 2). _this_ Capell. _the_ Anon. conj.

  [11] _our_] _your_ Rowe.

  _driving_] _droving_ F3 F4.

  [15] _Arion_] Pope. _Orion_ Ff.

  [18] _For ... gold_] _There's gold for saying so_ Pope.

  [21] _Know'st_] _And knowest_ Hanmer.

  [24-27] _Who ... Orsino_] As two lines in Hanmer, ending _nature ...
  Orsino._

  [25] _in name_] _in his name_ Hanmer.

  [29-35] _He was ... she?_] As six lines in Steevens (1793), ending,
  _now, ... month ... fresh ... do, ... seek ... she?_

  [37] _twelvemonth_] _twelve months_ Rowe.

  [39] _love_] _loss_ S. Walker conj.

  [40] _hath_] F1. _had_ F2 F3 F4.

  [40, 41] _company And sight_] Hanmer. _sight And company_ Ff.

  [42] _And_] _And't_ Hanmer.

  _delivered_] _deliver'd_ Rowe.

  [43] _mellow_,] Hanmer. _mellow_ Ff. _fellow_ Anon. conj.

  [50] _will_] _weil_ S. Walker conj.


SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _house._

_Enter_ Sir TOBY BELCH _and_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ What a plague means my niece, to take the death
    of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.

    _Mar._ By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier
    o' nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to
    your ill hours.                                                    5

    _Sir Toby._ Why, let her except, before excepted.

    _Mar._ Ay, but you must confine yourself within the
    modest limits of order.

    _Sir To._ Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I
    am: these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be          10
    these boots too: an they be not, let them hang themselves
    in their own straps.

    _Mar._ That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I
    heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight
    that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.               15

    _Sir To._ Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

    _Mar._ Ay, he.

    _Sir To._ He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.

    _Mar._ What's that to the purpose?

    _Sir To._ Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.               20

    _Mar._ Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats:
    he's a very fool and a prodigal.

    _Sir To._ Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gamboys,
    and speaks three or four languages word for word
    without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.              25

    _Mar._ He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides
    that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he
    hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling,
    'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly
    have the gift of a grave.                                         30

    _Sir To._ By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors
    that say so of him. Who are they?

    _Mar._ They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in
    your company.

    _Sir To._ With drinking healths to my niece: I 'll drink          35
    to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink
    in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill that will not drink
    to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top.
    What, wench! Castiliano vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew
    Agueface.                                                         40

_Enter_ Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK.

    _Sir And._ Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!

    _Sir To._ Sweet Sir Andrew!

    _Sir And._ Bless you, fair shrew.

    _Mar._ And you too, sir.

    _Sir To._ Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.                             45

    _Sir And._ What's that?

    _Sir To._ My niece's chambermaid.

    _Sir And._ Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

    _Mar._ My name is Mary, sir.                                      50

    _Sir And._ Good Mistress Mary Accost,--

    _Sir To._ You mistake, knight: 'accost' is front her, board
    her, woo her, assail her.

    _Sir And._ By my troth, I would not undertake her in
    this company. Is that the meaning of 'accost'?                    55

    _Mar._ Fare you well, gentlemen.

    _Sir To._ An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou
    mightst never draw sword again.

    _Sir And._ An you part so, mistress, I would I might
    never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have          60
    fools in hand?

    _Mar._ Sir, I have not you by the hand.

    _Sir And._ Marry, but you shall have; and here's my
    hand.

    _Mar._ Now, sir, 'thought is free': I pray you, bring your        65
    hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.

    _Sir And._ Wherefore, sweet-heart? what's your metaphor?

    _Mar._ It's dry, sir.

    _Sir And._ Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I            70
    can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?

    _Mar._ A dry jest, sir.

    _Sir And._ Are you full of them?

    _Mar._ Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry,
    now I let go your hand, I am barren.                [_Exit._      75

    _Sir To._ O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary: when
    did I see thee so put down?

    _Sir And._ Never in your life, I think; unless you see
    canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more
    wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a           80
    great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.

    _Sir To._ No question.

    _Sir And._ An I thought that, I'ld forswear it. I'll ride
    home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

    _Sir To._ Pourquoi, my dear knight?                               85

    _Sir And._ What is 'pourquoi'? do or not do? I would
    I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
    fencing, dancing and bear-baiting: O, had I but followed
    the arts!

    _Sir To._ Then hadst thou had an excellent head of                90
    hair.

    _Sir And._ Why, would that have mended my hair?

    _Sir To._ Past question; for thou seest it will not curl
    by nature.

    _Sir And._ But it becomes me well enough, does't not?             95

    _Sir To._ Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and
    I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs and
    spin it off.

    _Sir And._ Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your
    niece will not be seen; or if she be, it's four to one she'll    100
    none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.

    _Sir To._ She'll none o' the count: she'll not match
    above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have
    heard her swear't. Tut, there's life in't, man.

    _Sir And._ I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o'            105
    the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and
    revels sometimes altogether.

    _Sir To._ Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?

    _Sir And._ As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,
    under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare       110
    with an old man.

    _Sir To._ What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

    _Sir And._ Faith, I can cut a caper.

    _Sir To._ And I can cut the mutton to't.

    _Sir And._ And I think I have the back-trick simply as           115
    strong as any man in Illyria.

    _Sir To._ Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore
    have these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to take
    dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to
    church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? My              120
    very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make
    water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it
    a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent
    constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a
    galliard.                                                        125

    _Sir And._ Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well
    in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?

    _Sir To._ What shall we do else? were we not born
    under Taurus?

    _Sir And._ Taurus! That's sides and heart.                       130

    _Sir To._ No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee
    caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent!             [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.: OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.

  [4] _o'_] Capell. _a_ Ff.

  _cousin_] _neice_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [6] _except_,] Ff. _except_ Hanmer.

  _before_] _as before_ Rann (Farmer conj.).

  [11] _an_] Theobald. _and_ Ff. _if_ Pope.

  [18] _any's_] _any_ Pope.

  [20] _has_] F3 F4. _ha's_ F1 F2.

  [23, 24] _viol-de-gamboys_] _viol-de-gambo_ Rowe.

  [26] _indeed, almost_] _indeed all_, _most_ Collier (Upton conj.).

  [28] _gust_] _gift_ Meredith conj.

  [31] _substractors_] _subtractors_ Warburton.

  [33] _that add, moreover,_] _add, moreover, that_ Anon. conj.

  [36] _there is_] _there's_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [37] _coystrill_] _coystril_ F4. _kestrel_ Hanmer.

  [39] _vulgo_] _volto_ Hanmer (Warburton). _volgo_ Johnson.

  [40] _Agueface_] _Auge-cheek_ Theobald.

  [41] SCENE IV. Pope.

  Enter ...] Enter Sir Andrew. Ff.

  [48] Sir And.] Ma. F1.

  _acquaintance_] _acquaintance_-- S. Walker conj. See note (III).

  [51] _Mary Accost_] Rowe. _Mary, accost_ Ff.

  [52, 53] _board her_] _bourd her_ Whalley conj. _bourd with her_
  Steevens conj.

  [57] _An thou let part_] Capell. _And thou let part_ F1 F2. _And thou
  let her part_ F3 F4. _If thou let her part_ Pope. _An thou let her
  part_ Theobald.

  [59] _An_] Theobald. _And_ Ff. _If_ Pope.

  [65] _Now_] _Nay_ S. Walker conj.

  [74] _Fingers'_] _fingers_ F1 F2. _finger_ F3 F4. _finger's_ Steevens.

  [75] [Exit.] Exit Maria. Ff.

  [79] _put me_] F1. _put_ F2 F3 F4.

  [80] _has_] F4. _ha's_ F1 F2 F3.

  [83] _An_] Theobald. _And_ Ff. _If_ Pope.

  [85] _Pourquoi_] _Pur-quoy_ Ff.

  [93, 94] _curl by_] Theobald. _cool my_ Ff.

  [95] _me_] _we_ F1.

  [101, 102] _count_] Ff. _Duke_ Rowe.

  [104] _swear't_] _sweare t_ F1. _sweare_ F2. _swear_ F3 F4. _swear it_
  Theobald.

  [108] _kickshawses_] F3. _kicke-chawses_ F1 F2. _kick-shaws_ F4.

  [111] _an old man_] _a nobleman_ Theobald conj.

  [112] _excellence_] _excellence?_ Mason conj.

  [115] [Dances fantastically. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [120] _coranto_] Rowe (ed. 2). _carranto_ Ff.

  [122] _sink-a-pace_] _cinque-pace_ Hanmer.

  [123] _think_] _not think_ Rowe.

  [127] _in a_] _in_ Warburton.

  _flame-coloured_] Rowe (ed. 2). _dam'd colour'd_ Ff. _damask-coloured_
  Knight. _dun-colour'd_ Collier MS. _damson-coloured_ Phelps conj.
  _dove-coloured_ Anon. conj.

  _stock_] _stocke_ F1 F2. stocken F3 F4. _stocking_ Pope.

  _set_] Rowe (ed. 2). _sit_ Ff.

  [130] _That's_] F3 F4. _That_ F1 F2.

  [132] [Sir A. dances again. Collier (Collier MS.).


SCENE IV. _The_ DUKE'S _palace._

_Enter_ VALENTINE, _and_ VIOLA _in man's attire._

    _Val._ If the Duke continue these favours towards you,
    Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath known
    you but three days, and already you are no stranger.

    _Vio._ You either fear his humour or my negligence,
    that you call in question the continuance of his love: is he       5
    inconstant, sir, in his favours?

    _Val._ No, believe me.

    _Vio._ I thank you. Here comes the count.

    _Enter_ DUKE, CURIO, _and_ Attendants.

    _Duke._ Who saw Cesario, ho?

    _Vio._ On your attendance, my lord; here.                         10

    _Duke._ Stand you a while aloof. Cesario,
    Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
    To thee the book even of my secret soul:
    Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
    Be not denied access, stand at her doors,                         15
    And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
    Till thou have audience.

    _Vio._                    Sure, my noble lord,
    If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
    As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

    _Duke._ Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds                    20
    Rather than make unprofited return.

    _Vio._ Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?

    _Duke._ O, then unfold the passion of my love,
    Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
    It shall become thee well to act my woes;                         25
    She will attend it better in thy youth
    Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.

    _Vio._ I think not so, my lord.

    _Duke._                        Dear lad, believe it;
    For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
    That say thou art a man: Diana's lip                              30
    Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
    Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound;
    And all is semblative a woman's part.
    I know thy constellation is right apt
    For this affair. Some four or five attend him;                    35
    All, if you will; for I myself am best
    When least in company. Prosper well in this,
    And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
    To call his fortunes thine.

    _Vio._                    I'll do my best
    To woo your lady: [_Aside_] yet, a barful strife!                 40
    Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.          [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE V. Pope.

  The DUKE'S palace.] The Palace. Rowe.

  [8] _count_] Ff. _Duke_ Rowe.

  [9] Enter ...] Ff (after line 7).

  CURIO, and Attendants.] attended. Capell.

  [27] _nuncio's_] Ff. _nuncio_ Theobald.

  [32] _and sound_] _in sound_ ANON. conj.

  [40] _lady_] _lady_ [Exit Duke] Johnson.

  [_Aside_] Capell.

  _a barful_] F4. _a barrefull_ F1 F2 F3. _O baneful_ Pope. _O barful_
  Collier (Thirlby conj. MS.), _a woeful_ Daniel conj.


SCENE V. OLIVIA'S _house._

_Enter_ MARIA _and_ CLOWN.

    _Mar._ Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I
    will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way
    of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

    _Clo._ Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
    world needs to fear no colours.                                    5

    _Mar._ Make that good.

    _Clo._ He shall see none to fear.

    _Mar._ A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
    saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'

    _Clo._ Where, good Mistress Mary?                                 10

    _Mar._ In the wars; and that may you be bold to say
    in your foolery.

    _Clo._ Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and
    those that are fools, let them use their talents.

    _Mar._ Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent;           15
    or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a
    hanging to you?

    _Clo._ Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage;
    and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.

    _Mar._ You are resolute, then?                                    20

    _Clo._ Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.

    _Mar._ That if one break, the other will hold; or, if
    both break, your gaskins fall.

    _Clo._ Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way;
    if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a            25
    piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

    _Mar._ Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes
    my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.    [_Exit._

    _Clo._ Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
    Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove          30
    fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise
    man: for what says Quinapalus? 'Better a witty fool than
    a foolish wit.'

_Enter_ Lady OLIVIA _with_ MALVOLIO.

    God bless thee, lady!

    _Oli._ Take the fool away.                                        35

    _Clo._ Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

    _Oli._ Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides,
    you grow dishonest.

    _Clo._ Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
    will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not     40
    dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is
    no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him.
    Any thing that's mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses
    is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but
    patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve,    45
    so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold
    but calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
    away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.

    _Oli._ Sir, I bade them take away you.

    _Clo._ Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus           50
    non facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
    motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
    prove you a fool.

    _Oli._ Can you do it?

    _Clo._ Dexteriously, good madonna.                                55

    _Oli._ Make your proof.

    _Clo._ I must catechize you for it, madonna: good my
    mouse of virtue, answer me.

    _Oli._ Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I 'll bide your
    proof.                                                            60

    _Clo._ Good madonna, why mournest thou?

    _Oli._ Good fool, for my brother's death.

    _Clo._ I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

    _Oli._ I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

    _Clo._ The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's        65
    soul being in heaven. Take away the fool,
    gentlemen.

    _Oli._ What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he
    not mend?

    _Mal._ Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake            70
    him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the
    better fool.

    _Clo._ God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
    better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that
    I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two pence          75
    that you are no fool.

    _Oli._ How say you to that, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
    barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day with an
    ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look           80
    you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh
    and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I
    take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools,
    no better than the fools' zanies.

    _Oli._ O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste          85
    with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless and
    of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that
    you deem cannon-bullets: there is no slander in an allowed
    fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a
    known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.             90

    _Clo._ Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
    speakest well of fools!

_Re-enter_ MARIA.

    _Mar._ Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman
    much desires to speak with you.

    _Oli._ From the Count Orsino, is it?                              95

    _Mar._ I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and
    well attended.

    _Oli._ Who of my people hold him in delay?

    _Mar._ Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

    _Oli._ Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but          100
    madman: fie on him! [_Exit Maria._] Go you, Malvolio:
    if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home;
    what you will, to dismiss it. [_Exit Malvolio._] Now you
    see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.

    _Clo._ Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son     105
    should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! for,--here
    he comes,--one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.

_Enter_ Sir TOBY.

    _Oli._ By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the
    gate, cousin?

    _Sir To._ A gentleman.                                           110

    _Oli._ A gentleman! what gentleman?

    _Sir To._ 'Tis a gentleman here--a plague o' these pickle-herring!
    How now, sot!

    _Clo._ Good Sir Toby!

    _Oli._ Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by             115
    this lethargy?

    _Sir To._ Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.

    _Oli._ Ay, marry, what is he?

    _Sir To._ Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not:
    give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.           [_Exit._     120

    _Oli._ What's a drunken man like, fool?

    _Clo._ Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
    draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
    him; and a third drowns him.

    _Oli._ Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o'          125
    my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drowned:
    go, look after him.

    _Clo._ He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall
    look to the madman.                                 [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ MALVOLIO.

    _Mal._ Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak             130
    with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
    understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with
    you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a
    foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak
    with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified        135
    against any denial.

    _Oli._ Tell him he shall not speak with me.

    _Mal._ Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at
    your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a
    bench, but he'll speak with you.                                 140

    _Oli._ What kind o' man is he?

    _Mal._ Why, of mankind.

    _Oli._ What manner of man?

    _Mal._ Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will
    you or no.                                                       145

    _Oli._ Of what personage and years is he?

    _Mal._ Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough
    for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling
    when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him in standing water,
    between boy and man. He is very well-favoured and he             150
    speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk
    were scarce out of him.

    _Oli._ Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.

    _Mal._ Gentlewoman, my lady calls.                  [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ MARIA.

    _Oli._ Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.             155
    We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

_Enter_ VIOLA, _and_ Attendants.

    _Vio._ The honourable lady of the house, which is she?

    _Oli._ Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?

    _Vio._ Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,--I
    pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I        160
    never saw her: I would be loath to cast away my speech,
    for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken
    great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no
    scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.

    _Oli._ Whence came you, sir?                                     165

    _Vio._ I can say little more than I have studied, and
    that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
    modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I
    may proceed in my speech.

    _Oli._ Are you a comedian?                                       170

    _Vio._ No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very
    fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
    the lady of the house?

    _Oli._ If I do not usurp myself, I am.

    _Vio._ Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp your-self;     175
    for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But
    this is from my commission: I will on with my speech in
    your praise, and then show you the heart of my message.

    _Oli._ Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the
    praise.                                                          180

    _Vio._ Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis
    poetical.

    _Oli._ It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you, keep
    it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed
    your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you.          185
    If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief:
    'tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping
    a dialogue.

    _Mar._ Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

    _Vio._ No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little              190
    longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.
    Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.

    _Oli._ Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver,
    when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.

    _Vio._ It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture           195
    of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
    hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.

    _Oli._ Yet you began rudely. What are you? what
    would you?

    _Vio._ The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I              200
    learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
    would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears, divinity,
    to any other's, profanation.

    _Oli._ Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
    [_Exeunt Maria and Attendants._] Now, sir, what is your text?    205

    _Vio._ Most sweet lady,--

    _Oli._ A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of
    it. Where lies your text?

    _Vio._ In Orsino's bosom.

    _Oli._ In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?               210

    _Vio._ To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.

    _Oli._ O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more
    to say?

    _Vio._ Good madam, let me see your face.

    _Oli._ Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate       215
    with my face? You are now out of your text: but
    we will draw the curtain and show you the picture. Look
    you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't not well done?
                                                    [_Unveiling._

    _Vio._ Excellently done, if God did all.

    _Oli._ 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.       220

    _Vio._ 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
    Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
    Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
    If you will lead these graces to the grave
    And leave the world no copy.                                     225

    _Oli._ O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
    out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried,
    and every particle and utensil labelled to my will: as,
    item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with
    lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were       230
    you sent hither to praise me?

    _Vio._ I see you what you are, you are too proud;
    But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
    My lord and master loves you: O, such love
    Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd                235
    The nonpareil of beauty!

    _Oli._                    How does he love me?

    _Vio._ With adorations, fertile tears,
    With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

    _Oli._ Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
    Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,                      240
    Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
    In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
    And in dimension and the shape of nature
    A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
    He might have took his answer long ago.                          245

    _Vio._ If I did love you in my master's flame,
    With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
    In your denial I would find no sense;
    I would not understand it.

    _Oli._                    Why, what would you?

    _Vio._ Make me a willow cabin at your gate,                      250
    And call upon my soul within the house;
    Write loyal cantons of contemned love
    And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
    Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
    And make the babbling gossip of the air                          255
    Cry out 'Olivia!' O, you should not rest
    Between the elements of air and earth,
    But you should pity me!

    _Oli._                    You might do much.
    What is your parentage?

    _Vio._ Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:                  260
    I am a gentleman.

    _Oli._           Get you to your lord;
    I cannot love him: let him send no more;
    Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
    To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:
    I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.                   265

    _Vio._ I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
    My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
    Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
    And let your fervour, like my master's, be
    Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.         [_Exit._     270

    _Oli._ 'What is your parentage?'
    'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
    I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
    Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
    Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft!         275
    Unless the master were the man. How now!
    Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
    Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
    With an invisible and subtle stealth
    To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.                       280
    What ho, Malvolio!

_Re-enter_ MALVOLIO.

    _Mal._                    Here, madam, at your service.

    _Oli._ Run after that same peevish messenger,
    The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
    Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
    Desire him not to flatter with his lord,                         285
    Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
    If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
    I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.

    _Mal._ Madam, I will.                                [_Exit._

    _Oli._ I do I know not what, and fear to find                    290
    Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
    Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
    What is decreed must be, and be this so.             [_Exit_.

LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] SCENE VI. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.

  [5] _to fear_] _fear_ F3 F4.

  _colours_] _collars_ Anon. conj.

  [8] _lenten_] Rowe. _lenton_ Ff.

  [16] _to be_] F1. _be_ F2 F3 F4.

  [18] _Many_] _Marry_, Theobald.

  [19] _turning away_] _turning o' hay_ Smith conj. _turning of whey_
  Letherland conj.

  [20, 28] _You_] _Your_ F2.

  [23] _gaskins_] _gaskings_ F4.

  [28] [Exit.] Pope. om. Ff.

  [29] SCENE VII. Pope.

  _an't_] Hanmer. _and 't_ Ff.

  _good_] _a good_ Warburton.

  [34] Enter ...] Ff (after line 28). Enter O. attended. Capell.

  [37] _you're_] _y'are_ Ff.

  [39] _madonna_] _Madona_ Ff., and passim.

  [46] _cuckold_] _counsellor_ Hanmer.

  [51] _to say as I wear_] _to say, as I were_ F4. _as to say, as I
  were_ Rowe (ed. 1). _as to say, I wear_ Id. (ed. 2).

  [55] _Dexteriously_] _Dexterously_ F4.

  [58] _mouse_] _muse_ Anon. conj.

  _answer me_] _answer_ F3 F4.

  [59] _bide_] _abide_ Steevens (1785).

  [65] _fool_] F1 F2. _fool you_ F3 F4.

  [71, 72] _the better_] Ff. _better the_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [80] _brain_] _brains_ F3 F4.

  [83] _these_] _those_ Hanmer.

  _wise men_] F3 F4. _wisemen_ F1 F2.

  [84] _no better_] _to be no better_ Capell.

  [86] _guiltless_] F3 F4. _guitlesse_ F1 F2. _guileless_ ANON. conj.

  [91] _leasing_] _learning_ Rowe. _pleasing_ Warburton.

  [93] Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.

  [95, 102] _Count_] _Duke_ Hanmer.

  [99] _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [101] Exit Maria] Capell.

  [103] Exit Malvolio] Ff.

  _Now you_] _Now_ Rowe.

  [106, 107] _for,--here he comes_,--] Edd. _for here he comes_ Ff. _for
  here comes_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [107] _has_] _that has_ Collier MS.

  [108] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  Enter ...] Ff (after _comes_, line 107).

  [109] _cousin_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [112] _gentleman here_--] Steevens. _gentleman heere._ F1. _gentleman
  here._ F2 F3 F4. _gentleman. Here_,--[belches.] Theobald.
  _gentleman-heir_ Warburton. _gentleman_:--[hiccups.] Capell.

  [113] _herring_] _herrings_ Malone.

  [115] _Cousin, cousin_] _Uncle, uncle_ Rowe.

  [119] _an_] Hanmer. _and_ Ff.

  [125] _crowner_] _coroner_ Rowe.

  [126] _coz_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2). _cousin_ Capell conj.

  [129] Exit.] Exit Clown. Rowe.

  Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.

  [130] _yond_] Ff. _you'_ Capell.

  [138] _Has_] _Ha's_ Ff. _He has_ Pope.

  [139] _and be_] _or be_ Hanmer.

  _to_] _of_ Reed (1803).

  [141] _o'_] _of_ Steevens.

  [144] _manner_] F1 F2. _manners_ F3 F4.

  [149] _in_] _e'en_ Capell.

  [155] SCENE IX. Pope.

  Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.

  [157] VIOLA] VIOLENTA. F1.

  ... and Attendants.] Edd. om.

  [164] _comptible_] _prompt_ Hanmer. _domptable_ Mason conj.

  [169] _my_] om. F3 F4.

  [172] _fangs_] _phangs_ Ff. _pangs_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [184] _and_] _and I_ Pope.

  [186] _not mad_] _mad_ Rann (Mason conj.). _but mad_ Collier (ed. 2,
  Staunton conj.).

  [187] _that time of moon_] Ff. _the time of the moon_ Rowe. _that time
  of the moon_ Pope.

  [192] _Tell ... messenger_] Oli. _Tell ... mind._ Vio. _I ...
  messenger_ Hanmer (Warburton). See note (IV).

  [196] _taxation_] F1 F2 F3. _taxations_ F4.

  _olive_] Rowe. _Olyffe_ F1 F2 F3. _Oliff_ F4.

  [202] _secret as maidenhead_] _sacred as maidhood_ Theobald conj.

  _maidenhead_] F1. _a maiden-heard_ F2. _a maidenhead_ F3 F4.
  _maidenhood_ Collier MS.

  [203] _other's_] Pope (ed. 2). _others_ Ff.

  [205] Exeunt M. and Attendants.] Capell. Exit M. Rowe.

  [208] _your text_] _the text_ Rowe.

  [218] _such ... is't_] _such a one I wear this present: is't_ Theobald
  (Warburton). _such a one I was. This presence, is't_ Steevens conj.
  _such as once I was, this presents: is't_ Rann (Mason conj). _such a
  one I was, this presents_ Becket conj. _such a one as I was this
  presents, is't_ Jackson conj. _such a one as I was this present: is't_
  Boswell. _such a one I was as this presents: is't_ Singer conj. _such
  a one I am at this present: is't_ Collier MS.

  [Unveiling.] Rowe.

  [231] _praise_] '_praise_ Steevens (Malone).

  [235] _Could_] _Should_ Collier MS.

  [237] _adorations, fertile_] _adorations, fertill_ Ff. _adorations,
  with fertile_ Pope. _adoration's fertile_ Rann. See note (V).

  [244] _but_] om. Pope.

  [249] _would you?_] _would you do?_ Rowe.

  [252] _cantons_] _cantos_ Rowe (ed. 2). _canzons_ Capell.

  [254] _Halloo_] _Hallow_ F1. _Hollaw_ F2. _Hollow_ F3 F4.

  _reverberate_] _reverberant_ Theobald.

  [258, 259] _You ... parentage._] As one line in Capell.

  [275] _soft, soft!_] _soft;_ Capell.

  [276] _master were the man_] _man the master were_ Hanmer, who ends
  lines

  [275-278] at fast ... _were_ ... _catch_ ... _perfections_.

  [281] Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.

  [283] _county's_] Capell. _Countes_ F1. _Counts_ F2 F3 F4. _Duke's_
  Rowe.

  _left_] _left here_ Hanmer.

  [288] _reasons for't: hie thee_] F1. _reasons for't: hye thee_ F2.
  _reasons for't by thee_ F3. _reason for't by thee_ F4. _reason for't._
  _Hye thee_ Hanmer.

  [292] _owe_] _know_ Long MS.

  [293] [Exit] Rowe. Finis, Actus primus. F1. Finis, Actus primi. F2 F3
  F4.




ACT II.

SCENE I. _The sea-coast._


_Enter_ ANTONIO _and_ SEBASTIAN.

    _Ant._ Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that
    I go with you?

    _Seb._ By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over
    me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper
    yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may        5
    bear my evils alone: it were a bad recompense for your
    love, to lay any of them on you.

    _Ant._ Let me yet know of you whither you are bound.

    _Seb._ No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere
    extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch          10
    of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am
    willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the
    rather to express myself. You must know of me then,
    Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo.
    My father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know            15
    you have heard of. He left behind him myself and a
    sister, both born in an hour: if the heavens had been
    pleased, would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that;
    for some hour before you took me from the breach of the
    sea was my sister drowned.                                        20

    _Ant._ Alas the day!

    _Seb._ A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled
    me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though
    I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe
    that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her; she bore a          25
    mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drowned
    already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her
    remembrance again with more.

    _Ant._ Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.

    _Seb._ O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.                   30

    _Ant._ If you will not murder me for my love, let me
    be your servant.

    _Seb._ If you will not undo what you have done, that is,
    kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye
    well at once: my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet          35
    so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion
    more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound
    to the Count Orsino's court: farewell.              [_Exit._

    _Ant._ The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
    I have many enemies in Orsino's court,                            40
    Else would I very shortly see thee there.
    But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
    That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.        [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. The sea-coast.] Capell. The street. Rowe.

  [1, 2] _longer? ... with you?_] _longer: ... with you._ F.

  [5] _I shall crave_] _I crave_ Rowe.

  [9] _sooth_] _in sooth_ Johnson. _'sooth_ Capell.

  [14] _Roderigo_] Collier. _Rodorigo_ Ff.

  [15] _Messaline_] _Metelin_ Hanmer. _Mitylene_ Capell conj.

  [17] _an_] F1 F2. _one_ F3 F4.

  [19] _hour_] _houre_ F1 F2. _houres_ F3. _hours_ F4.

  [19] _breach_] _beach_ Grey conj.

  [22] _though_] _who, tho'_ Hanmer.

  [24] _not ... overfar_] _not overfar_ Warburton conj. _not with
  self-estimation wander so far_ Collier (Collier MS.). _not with such
  estimators wander overfar to_ Singer MS. _not with such estimate
  wander overfar to_ Bailey conj.

  _with ... wonder_] Omit as spurious. Warburton conj.

  [26] _envy could not but_] _envy itself would_ Capell conj.

  [38] _Count_] _Duke_ Rowe.

  [40] _many_] F1 F2. _made_ F3 F4.


SCENE II. _A street._

_Enter_ VIOLA, MALVOLIO _following_.

    _Mal._ Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?

    _Vio._ Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since
    arrived but hither.

    _Mal._ She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
    saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She             5
    adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate
    assurance she will none of him: and one thing more,
    that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs,
    unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive
    it so.                                                            10

    _Vio._ She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.

    _Mal._ Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her
    will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping
    for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Vio._ I left no ring with her: what means this lady?             15
    Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
    She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
    That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
    For she did speak in starts distractedly.
    She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion                    20
    Invites me in this churlish messenger.
    None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
    I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
    Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
    Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,                           25
    Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
    How easy is it for the proper-false
    In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
    Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
    For such as we are made of, such we be.                           30
    How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;
    And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
    And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
    What will become of this? As I am man,
    My state is desperate for my master's love;                       35
    As I am woman,--now alas the day!--
    What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
    O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
    It is too hard a knot for me to untie!              [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II. Enter....] Enter V. and M. at severall doores. Ff.

  [1] _even_, _ev'n_ Ff. _e'en_ Rowe.

  [4] _sir_:] _sir; for being your Lord's she'll none of it_. Hanmer.

  [9, 10] _Receive it so_] _Receive it, sir_ Capell.

  [11] _the ring of me: I'll_] _the ring of me, Ile_ Ff (_I'le_ F3 F4).
  _the ring of me! I'll_ Malone (Anon. conj.). _no ring of me; I'll_
  Malone conj. _this ring of me! She'll_ Id. conj.

  [16] _have not_] _should have_ Hanmer.

  [18] _That_] F1. _That sure_ F2 F3 F4. _That oft_] Jackson conj.
  _That, as_ Anon. conj.

  _That ... her_] _Methought her eager_ Seymour conj.

  _had lost_] _did let_ Hanmer. _had crost_ Warburton. _had los'd_
  Becket conj.

  [22] _None ... none._] This line is transposed by Hanmer to the
  beginning of the speech.

  [23] _I am the_] _I should be_ Hanmer.

  _man: if it be so, as 'tis_,] _man, if ... so, as tis_, F1. _man, if
  ... so as tis_, F2 (_'tis,_ F3 F4). _man, if ... so: as 'tis_, Hanmer.
  _if it be so_, (_as, 'tis_;) Theobald.

  [27, 28] _the proper-false ... their forms_] _thy purpose false ...
  thy forms_ Jackson conj.

  [27] _proper-false_] Malone. _proper false_ Ff.

  [29] _our_] F2 F3 F4. _O_ F1.

  [30] _made of, such_] Rann (Tyrwhitt conj.). _made, if such_ Ff.
  _made, ev'n such_ Hanmer. See note (VI).

  [32] _monster_] _minister_ Hanmer.

  [32, 33] _as much on him; And_] _as much on him As_ Dyce conj.

  [34] _man_] _a man_ F3 F4.

  [39] _to untie_] _t'unty_ Ff.


SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _house_.

_Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir To._ Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after
    midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo surgere,' thou
    know'st,--

    _Sir And._ Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know,
    to be up late is to be up late.                                    5

    _Sir To._ A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can.
    To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early: so
    that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes.
    Does not our life consist of the four elements?

    _Sir And._ Faith, so they say; but I think it rather              10
    consists of eating and drinking.

    _Sir To._ Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and
    drink. Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!

_Enter_ Clown.

    _Sir And._ Here comes the fool, i'faith.

    _Clo._ How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture          15
    of 'we three'?

    _Sir To._ Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

    _Sir And._ By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast.
    I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so
    sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast      20
    in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of
    Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of
    Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith. I sent thee sixpence for
    thy leman: hadst it?

    _Clo._ I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose        25
    is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the
    Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

    _Sir And._ Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when
    all is done. Now, a song.

    _Sir To._ Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have          30
    a song.

    _Sir And._ There's a testril of me too: if one knight
    give a--

    _Clo._ Would you have a love-song, or a song of good
    life?                                                             35

    _Sir To._ A love-song, a love-song.

    _Sir And._ Ay, ay: I care not for good life.

    _Clo._ [_Sings_]

           O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
           O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
             That can sing both high and low:                         40
           Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
           Journeys end in lovers meeting,
             Every wise man's son doth know.

    _Sir And._ Excellent good, i' faith.

    _Sir To._ Good, good.                                             45

    _Clo._ [_Sings_]

           What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
           Present mirth hath present laughter;
             What's to come is still unsure:
           In delay there lies no plenty;
           Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,                       50
             Youth's a stuff will not endure.

    _Sir And._ A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

    _Sir To._ A contagious breath.

    _Sir And._ Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.

    _Sir To._ To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.         55
    But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we
    rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls
    out of one weaver? shall we do that?

    _Sir And._ An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a
    catch.                                                            60

    _Clo._ By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.

    _Sir And._ Most certain. Let our catch be, 'Thou
    knave.'

    _Clo._ 'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be
    constrained in't to call thee knave, knight.                      65

    _Sir And._ 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one
    to call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'

    _Clo._ I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

    _Sir And._ Good, i'faith. Come, begin.        [_Catch sung._

_Enter_ MARIA.

    _Mar._ What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my                70
    lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him
    turn you out of doors, never trust me.

    _Sir To._ My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's
    a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am
    not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally.          75
    Lady! [_Sings_] 'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!'

    _Clo._ Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.

    _Sir And._ Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed,
    and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it
    more natural.                                                     80

    _Sir To._ [_Sings_] 'O, the twelfth day of December',--

    _Mar._ For the love o' God, peace!

_Enter_ MALVOLIO.

    _Mal._ My masters, are you mad? or what are you?
    Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like
    tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of          85
    my lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches
    without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no
    respect of place, persons, nor time in you?

    _Sir To._ We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck
    up!                                                               90

    _Mal._ Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady
    bade me tell you, that, though she harbours you as her
    kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If you
    can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are
    welcome to the house; if not, an it would please you to           95
    take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.

    _Sir To._ 'Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.'

    _Mar._ Nay, good Sir Toby.

    _Clo._ 'His eyes do show his days are almost done.'

    _Mal._ Is't even so?                                             100

    _Sir To._ 'But I will never die.'

    _Clo._ Sir Toby, there you lie.

    _Mal._ This is much credit to you.

    _Sir To._ 'Shall I bid him go?'

    _Clo._ 'What an if you do?'                                      105

    _Sir To._ 'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?'

    _Clo._ 'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.'

    _Sir To._ Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a
    steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous,
    there shall be no more cakes and ale?                            110

    _Clo._ Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i'
    the mouth too.

    _Sir To._ Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain
    with crums. A stoup of wine, Maria!

    _Mal._ Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at          115
    any thing more than contempt, you would not give means
    for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand.
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Mar._ Go shake your ears.

    _Sir And._ 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a
    man's a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to          120
    break promise with him and make a fool of him.

    _Sir To._ Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge; or
    I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

    _Mar._ Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night: since
    the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is         125
    much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone
    with him: if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make
    him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough
    to lie straight in my bed: I know I can do it.

    _Sir To._ Possess us, possess us; tell us something of           130
    him.

    _Mar._ Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.

    _Sir And._ O, if I thought that, I'ld beat him like a dog!

    _Sir To._ What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,
    dear knight?                                                     135

    _Sir And._ I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have
    reason good enough.

    _Mar._ The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing constantly,
    but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, that cons
    state without book and utters it by great swarths: the best      140
    persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies,
    that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on
    him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge
    find notable cause to work.

    _Sir To._ What wilt thou do?                                     145

    _Mar._ I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
    love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his
    leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead,
    and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly
    personated. I can write very like my lady your niece: on         150
    a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our
    hands.

    _Sir To._ Excellent! I smell a device.

    _Sir And._ I have 't in my nose too.

    _Sir To._ He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt          155
    drop, that they come from my niece, and that she's in love
    with him.

    _Mar._ My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.

    _Sir And._ And your horse now would make him an ass.

    _Mar._ Ass, I doubt not.                                         160

    _Sir And._ O, 'twill be admirable!

    _Mar._ Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic
    will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool
    make a third, where he shall find the letter: observe his
    construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on         165
    the event. Farewell.                                [_Exit._

    _Sir To._ Good night, Penthesilea.

    _Sir And._ Before me, she's a good wench.

    _Sir To._ She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores
    me: what o' that?                                                170

    _Sir And._ I was adored once too.

    _Sir To._ Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send
    for more money.

    _Sir And._ If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul
    way out.                                                         175

    _Sir To._ Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not
    i' the end, call me cut.

    _Sir And._ If I do not, never trust me, take it how you
    will.

    _Sir To._ Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too           180
    late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III. OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.

  [2] _diluculo_] Rowe. _Deliculo_ F1. _Diliculo_ F2 F3 F4.

  [3] _know'st,--_] Theobald. _know'st._ Ff.

  [9] _Does ... life_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Does ... lives_ Ff. _Do ... lives_
  Malone.

  [12] _Thou'rt_ Capell. _Th'art_ Ff. _Thou art_ Steevens.

  [13] _Marian_] _Maria_ Pope.

  _stoup_] _stoope_ F1 F2 F3. _stoop_ F4.

  [18] _breast_] _breath_ L. H. apud Theobald conj.

  [22] _Pigrogromitus_] _Pigrogomitus_ Boswell.

  [24] _leman_] Theobald. _Lemon_ Ff.

  [25] _impeticos thy gratillity_] _impeticoat thy gratuity_ Rann
  (Johnson conj.).

  [27] _Myrmidons_] Theobald. _Mermidons_ Ff. _Mirmidons_ Pope.

  [33] _give a--_] See note (VII).

  [39] _and hear_;] _and heare,_ F1 F2. _and hear_, F3 F4. _for here_
  Collier MS.

  [42] _lovers_] _lovers'_ Warburton.

  [46] _love?_] Pope, _love_, Ff.

  [49] _delay_] _decay_ Warburton.

  [50] _Then come kiss me_] _Come, a kiss then_ Johnson conj.

  [52] _true_] _a true_ Rowe.

  [57] _souls_] _sols_ (i.e. _sous_) Jackson conj.

  [59] _An_] Pope. _And_ Ff.

  _dog_] _dogge_ F1 F2. _a dog_ F3 F4.

  [64] _knight?_] Capell. _knight._ Ff.

  [70] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [75] _am I not_] _am not I_ F3 F4.

  [76, 81] [Sings] Singing. Rowe.

  [81] _O_] _O' S._ Walker conj.

  _the twelfth_] _the twelfe_ F1 F2. _twelf_ F3 F4.

  [85] _ye_] _you_ Hanmer.

  [86] _coziers'_] _cottiers_ Warburton.

  [89, 90] _Sneck up_] F3 F4. _Snecke up_ F1 F2. _Strike up_ Rowe (ed.
  2). _Sneak-cup_ Rann (Steevens and Capell conj.). _Sneb up_ Becket
  conj. _Snack up_ Jackson conj. _Snick up_ Collier (Dyce).

  [90] [Hiccoughs. Theobald.

  [92] _though_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.

  [93] _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [95] _an_] Rowe (ed. 2). _and_ Ff.

  [97] See note (VIII).

  [98] Mar.] Mal. Steevens.

  [101] _never_] _nevery_ F2.

  [105] _an_] Theobald, _and_ Ff.

  [107] _no, no, no, no_] _no, no, no_ Theobald.

  [108] _tune, sir_:] _tune sir,_ Ff. _time, sir?_ Theobald,
  _tune!--sir,_ Collier. _tune, sir?_ Staunton.

  _Art_] _Art thou_ Rowe.

  [113] _Thou'rt_] Rowe. _Th'art_ Ff.

  _chain_] _chin_ Johnson conj.

  [114] _stoup_] _stope_ Ff. stoop Rowe.

  [120] _the field_] _to the field_ Rowe (ed. 2.)

  [125] _the youth_] _that youth_ Collier MS.

  _count's_] _Duke's_ Rowe.

  [127] _a nayword_] Rowe. _an ayword_ Ff. _a byeword_ L.H. apud
  Theobald conj.

  [130] Sir To.] Sir And. S. Walker conj.

  [132] _puritan_] _a puritan_ Hanmer.

  [139] _affectioned_] _affected_ Hanmer.

  [140] _state without book_] _stale wit out of books_ Anon. conj.

  _swarths_] _swaths_ Collier.

  [142] _grounds_] F1. _ground_ F2 F3 F4.

  [155] _letters_] _letter_ Collier MS.

  [156] _they come_] _it comes_ Collier MS.

  _she's_] _she is_ F4.

  [159] Sir And.] Sir To. Harness (Tyrwhitt conj.).

  [160] _Ass, I_] _As I_ S. Walker conj.

  [163] _with him_] _him him_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [164] _his_] F1. _this_ F2 F3 F4.


SCENE IV. _The_ DUKE'S _palace_.

_Enter_ DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, _and others._

    _Duke._ Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
    Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
    That old and antique song we heard last night:
    Methought it did relieve my passion much,
    More than light airs and recollected terms                         5
    Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
    Come, but one verse.

    _Cur._ He is not here, so please your lordship, that
    should sing it.

    _Duke._ Who was it?                                               10

    _Cur._ Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady Olivia's
    father took much delight in. He is about the house.

    _Duke._ Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
                                     [_Exit Curio. Music plays._

    Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
    In the sweet pangs of it remember me;                             15
    For such as I am all true lovers are,
    Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
    Save in the constant image of the creature
    That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?

    _Vio._ It gives a very echo to the seat                           20
    Where Love is throned.

    _Duke._ Thou dost speak masterly:
    My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
    Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
    Hath it not, boy?

    _Vio._              A little, by your favour.                     25

    _Duke._ What kind of woman is't?

    _Vio._                            Of your complexion.

    _Duke._ She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?

    _Vio._ About your years, my lord.

    _Duke._ Too old, by heaven: let still the woman take
    An elder than herself; so wears she to him,                       30
    So sways she level in her husband's heart:
    For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
    Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
    More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
    Than women's are.

    _Vio._              I think it well, my lord.                     35

    _Duke._ Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
    Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
    For women are as roses, whose fair flower
    Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

    _Vio._ And so they are: alas, that they are so;                   40
    To die, even when they to perfection grow!

_Re-enter_ CURIO _and_ Clown.

    _Duke._ O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
    Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
    The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
    And the free maids that weave their thread with bones             45
    Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
    And dallies with the innocence of love,
    Like the old age.

    _Clo._ Are you ready, sir?

    _Duke._ Ay; prithee, sing.                         [_Music._      50


    SONG.

    _Clo._ Come away, come away, death,
           And in sad cypress let me be laid;
         Fly away, fly away, breath;
           I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
         My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,                      55
               O, prepare it!
         My part of death, no one so true
               Did share it.

         Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
           On my black coffin let there be strown;                    60
         Not a friend, not a friend greet
           My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
         A thousand thousand sighs to save,
               Lay me, O, where
         Sad true lover never find my grave,                          65
               To weep there!

    _Duke._ There's for thy pains.

    _Clo._ No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.

    _Duke._ I'll pay thy pleasure then.

    _Clo._ Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or         70
    another.

    _Duke._ Give me now leave to leave thee.

    _Clo._ Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
    tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind
    is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put            75
    to sea, that their business might be every thing and their
    intent every where; for that's it that always makes a good
    voyage of nothing. Farewell.                        [_Exit._

    _Duke._ Let all the rest give place.
                                 [_Curio and Attendants retire._
                                       Once more, Cesario,
    Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:                          80
    Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
    Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
    The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
    Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
    But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems                           85
    That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.

    _Vio._ But if she cannot love you, sir?

    _Duke._ I cannot be so answer'd.

    _Vio._                    Sooth, but you must.
    Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
    Hath for your love as great a pang of heart                       90
    As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
    You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?

    _Duke._ There is no woman's sides
    Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
    As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart                      95
    So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.
    Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,--
    No motion of the liver, but the palate,--
    That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
    But mine is all as hungry as the sea,                            100
    And can digest as much: make no compare
    Between that love a woman can bear me
    And that I owe Olivia.

    _Vio._                    Ay, but I know,--

    _Duke._ What dost thou know?

    _Vio._ Too well what love women to men may owe:                  105
    In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
    My father had a daughter loved a man,
    As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
    I should your lordship.

    _Duke._                   And what's her history?

    _Vio._ A blank, my lord. She never told her love,                110
    But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
    Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought;
    And with a green and yellow melancholy
    She sat like patience on a monument,
    Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?                      115
    We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
    Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
    Much in our vows, but little in our love.

    _Duke._ But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

    _Vio._ I am all the daughters of my father's house,              120
    And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
    Sir, shall I to this lady?

    _Duke._                   Ay, that's the theme.
    To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
    My love can give no place, bide no denay.         [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE V. Pope.

  THE DUKE'S palace.] The Palace. Rowe.

  [5] _terms_] _tunes_ Knight conj.

  [13] _Seek_] _Go, seek_ Capell.

  [Exit Curio.] Pope.

  [17] _motions_] _notions_ Warburton (Theobald conj.). See note (IX).

  [20] _to the seat_] _from the seat_ Warburton.

  [34] _worn_] F4. _worne_ F1 F2 F3. _won_ Hanmer.

  [41] Re-enter....] Enter.... Ff.

  [45] _free_] _fair_ Grey conj.

  [47] _dallies_] _tallies_ Warburton.

  [50] _Ay; prithee_] _Ay; pr'ythee_ Capell. _I prethee_ Ff.

  [53] _Fly ... fly_] Rowe. _Fye ... fie_ F1

  F2. _Fie ... fie_ F3 F4.

  [56] _O, prepare_] _Prepare_ Pope.

  [64] _O, where_] _where_ Pope.

  [65] _Sad_] om. Pope.

  _true lover_] _true-love_ Capell.

  _never_] _ne'er_ Rann.

  [71] _another_] _other_ Rowe.

  [72] _Give me ... thee_] _I give thee ... me_ Harness.

  [73] Clo.] Duk. F2.

  [77] _every where_] _no where_ Warburton.

  [79] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [C. and A. retire.] Edd. Exeunt C. and A. Capell. om. Ff.

  [86] _pranks her in_] _pranks, her mind,_ Warburton. _pranks in her_
  Jackson conj.

  [88] _I_] Hanmer. _It_ Ff.

  [97, 98] _appetite_,-- ... _palate_,--_] Capell, _appetite, ...
  pallat_ F1 F2. _appetite: ... pallat,_ F3 F4.

  [99] _suffer_] _suffers_ Rowe.

  [101] _digest_] _disgest_ F2.

  [109] _And what's_] _What's_ Pope.

  [113] _a green and yellow_] _agrein and hallow_ Becket conj.

  [114] _sat like ... monument,_] _sat, like ... monument_ Hunter conj.

  [120, 121] _I am all the daughters ... And all the brothers too;--and
  yet_] _She's all the daughters ... And I am all the sons, but yet_
  Hanmer.

  [124] _My_] F1 F3 F4. _Thy_ F2.


SCENE V. OLIVIA'S _garden_.

_Enter_ SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir To._ Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

    _Fab._ Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
    let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

    _Sir To._ Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
    rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?                   5

    _Fab._ I would exult, man: you know, he brought me
    out o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.

    _Sir To._ To anger him we'll have the bear again; and
    we will fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?

    _Sir And._ An we do not, it is pity of our lives.                 10

    _Sir To._ Here comes the little villain.

_Enter_ MARIA.

    How now, my metal of India!

    _Mar._ Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
    coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the sun
    practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe    15
    him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter
    will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the
    name of jesting! Lie thou there [_throws down a letter_];
    for here comes the trout that must be caught with
    tickling.                                           [_Exit._      20


_Enter_ MALVOLIO.

    _Mal._ 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
    me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus
    near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion.
    Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect
    than any one else that follows her. What should I think           25
    on't?

    _Sir To._ Here's an overweening rogue!

    _Fab._ O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
    of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!

    _Sir And._ 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!                    30

    _Sir To._ Peace, I say.

    _Mal._ To be Count Malvolio!

    _Sir To._ Ah, rogue!

    _Sir And._ Pistol him, pistol him.

    _Sir To._ Peace, peace!                                           35

    _Mal._ There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
    married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

    _Sir And._ Fie on him, Jezebel!

    _Fab._ O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how imagination
    blows him.                                                        40

    _Mal._ Having been three months married to her, sitting
    in my state,--

    _Sir To._ O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

    _Mal._ Calling my officers about me, in my branched
    velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have             45
    left Olivia sleeping,--

    _Sir To._ Fire and brimstone!

    _Fab._ O, peace, peace!

    _Mal._ And then to have the humour of state; and after a
    demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I        50
    would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby,--

    _Sir To._ Bolts and shackles!

    _Fab._ O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.

    _Mal._ Seven of my people, with an obedient start,
    make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind           55
    up my watch, or play with my--some rich jewel. Toby
    approaches; courtesies there to me,--

    _Sir To._ Shall this fellow live?

    _Fab._ Though our silence be drawn from us with cars,
    yet peace.                                                        60

    _Mal._ I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my
    familiar smile with an austere regard of control,--

    _Sir To._ And does not Toby take you a blow o' the
    lips then?

    _Mal._ Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast              65
    me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'--

    _Sir To._ What, what?

    _Mal._ 'You must amend your drunkenness.'

    _Sir To._ Out, scab!

    _Fab._ Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.         70

    _Mal._ 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time
    with a foolish knight,'--

    _Sir And._ That's me, I warrant you.

    _Mal._ 'One Sir Andrew,'--

    _Sir And._ I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.              75

    _Mal._ What employment have we here?
                                        [_Taking up the letter._

    _Fab._ Now is the woodcock near the gin.

    _Sir To._ O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate
    reading aloud to him!

    _Mal._ By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her           80
    very C's, her U's and her T's; and thus makes she her
    great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

    _Sir And._ Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?

    _Mal._ [_reads_] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
    wishes:--her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft!              85
    and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to
    seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?

    _Fab._ This wins him, liver and all.

    _Mal._ [_reads_]          Jove knows I love:
                              But who?                                90
                              Lips, do not move;
                              No man must know.
    'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers altered!
    'No man must know:' if this should be thee, Malvolio?

    _Sir To._ Marry, hang thee, brock!                                95

    _Mal._ [_reads_]       I may command where I adore;
                           But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
                           With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
                           M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.

    _Fab._ A fustian riddle!                                         100

    _Sir To._ Excellent wench, say I.

    _Mal._ 'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first,
    let me see, let me see, let me see.

    _Fab._ What dish o' poison has she dressed him!

    _Sir To._ And with what wing the staniel checks at it!           105

    _Mal._ 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she
    may command me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this
    is evident to any formal capacity; there is no obstruction
    in this: and the end,--what should that alphabetical position
    portend? If I could make that resemble something                 110
    in me,--Softly! M, O, A, I,--

    _Sir To._ O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.

    _Fab._ Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be
    as rank as a fox.

    _Mal._ M,--Malvolio; M,--why, that begins my name.               115

    _Fab._ Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is
    excellent at faults.

    _Mal._ M,--but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;
    that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.

    _Fab._ And O shall end, I hope.                                  120

    _Sir To._ Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!

    _Mal._ And then I comes behind.

    _Fab._ Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might
    see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

    _Mal._ M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former:         125
    and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every
    one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose.

  [_Reads_] If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
  thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve
  greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open   130
  their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure
  thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear
  fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy
  tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of
  singularity: she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who 135
  commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever
  cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest
  to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of
  servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that
  would alter services with thee,                                    140

                                            THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.

    Daylight and champain discovers not more: this is open.
    I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir
    Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise
    the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination       145
    jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady
    loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late,
    she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she
    manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction
    drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars I      150
    am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and
    cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove
    and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.

  [_Reads_] Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest
  my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become           155
  thee well; therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet,
  I prithee.

    Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do every thing that
    thou wilt have me.                                  [_Exit._

    _Fab._ I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
    of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.                          160

    _Sir To._ I could marry this wench for this device.

    _Sir And._ So could I too.

    _Sir To._ And ask no other dowry with her but such
    another jest.

    _Sir And._ Nor I neither.                                        165

    _Fab._ Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

_Re-enter_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?

    _Sir And._ Or o' mine either?

    _Sir To._ Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become
    thy bond-slave?                                                  170

    _Sir And._ I' faith, or I either?

    _Sir To._ Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that
    when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.

    _Mar._ Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

    _Sir To._ Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife.                         175

    _Mar._ If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark
    his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in
    yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered,
    a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her,
    which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being        180
    addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn
    him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.

    _Sir To._ To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent
    devil of wit!

    _Sir And._ I'll make one too.                     [_Exeunt._     185


LINENOTES:

  SCENE V.] SCENE VII. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S garden.] Pope.

  [3] _boiled_] _broiled_ Grey conj.

  [7] _O'_] _Of_ Rowe.

  [10] _An_] Pope. _And_ Ff.

  _it is_] _'tis_ Rowe (ed. 1). _it's_ Id. (ed. 2).

  [11] Enter M.] Ff (after line 10).

  [12] _metal_] Malone. _Mettle_ F1. _Nettle_ F2 F3 F4.

  [18] [Men hide themselves. Capell.

  [throws down a letter] Theobald.

  [21] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  [30] _'Slight_] F3 F4. _Slight_ F1 F2. _'Slife_ Rowe.

  [31, 35] Sir To.] Fab. Edd. conj.

  [36] _Strachy_] _Stratarch_ Hanmer. _Trachy_ Warburton. _Trachyne_
  Capell conj. _Straccio_ Smith conj. _Starchy_ Steevens conj.
  _Stitchery_ Becket conj. _Stratico_ R.P. Knight conj. _Astrakhan_ C.
  Knight conj. _Strozzi_ Collier conj. _Stracci_ Lloyd conj. _Sophy_ or
  _Saucery_ or _Satrape_ Anon. apud Halliwell conj.

  [37] _the wardrobe_] _her wardrobe_ Capell conj.

  [38] _him_] _her_ Lloyd conj.

  [49] _humour_] _honour_ Collier MS.

  [51] _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [56] _my--some_] Collier. _my some_ F1 F2. _some_ F3 F4.

  [59] _Though ... cars_] _Silence! though our ears be withdrawn from
  us_ Becket conj.

  _with cars_] F1. _with cares_ F2 F3 F4. _by th' ears_ Hanmer. _with
  carts_ Johnson conj. _with cables_ Tyrwhitt conj. _with cats_ Jackson
  conj. _with tears_ Singer conj. _with racks_ S. Walker conj. _with
  cords_ Grant White. _with_ _screws_ Bailey conj. _with cart-ropes_
  Hunter conj. _with curs_ Anon. conj.

  [65] _Cousin_] Ff. _Uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [76] _employment_] _implement_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).

  [Taking....] Taking up a letter. Rowe.

  [78] _and_] _now_ Rowe.

  [84, 89, 96] [reads] Capell.

  [85] _Soft!_] Rowe. _Soft,_ Ff.

  [89-92] _Jove ... know_] As prose in Ff.

  [90] _But who?_] _Alas! but who?_ Hanmer.

  [91] _Lips,_] Edd. (Capell MS.). _Lips_ Ff.

  [93] _numbers altered!_] Capell. _numbers alter'd:_ Ff. _number's
  alter'd_ Rowe (ed. 2). _numbers alter_ Hanmer.

  [97] _Lucrece knife_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Lucresse knife_ F1 F2. _Lucress
  wife_ F3 F4. _Lucrece' knife_ Dyce (S. Walker conj.).

  [96-99] _I may ... my life_] As in Hanmer. Printed as two lines in Ff.

  [103] _let me see, let me see, let me see_] _let me see, let me see_
  F3 F4.

  [104] _o'_] Dyce. _a_ F1 F2. _of_ F3 F4.

  [105] _staniel_] Hanmer. _stallion_ Ff. _falcon_ Collier MS.

  [110] _portend? ... me,--_] Capell. _portend, ... me?_ Ff. _portend.
  ... me?_ Rowe (ed. 1). _portend? ... me?_ Id. (ed. 2). _portend? ...
  me._ Hanmer.

  [112] _make up_] _make out_ Hanmer. _take up_ Anon. conj.

  [113] _be_] _ben't_ Hanmer.

  [115] _M, Malvolio ... name_] _M,-- why ... name. M,--Malvolio!_ or
  _M,--M,--M,--why ... name_ Edd. conj.

  [118] _sequel;_] Rowe. _sequel_ Ff.

  [119] _suffers_] _suffices_ Anon. conj.

  [123] _an_] Hanmer. _and_ Ff. _and if_ Capell conj.

  [125] _simulation_] _similation_ Capell conj. MS.

  [126] _bow to me_] F1 F2. _bow me_ F3 F4.

  [127] _are_] _is_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [128] [Reads] Capell.

  [129] _born_] Rowe. _become_ Ff.

  _achieve_] _atcheeues_ F1. See note (X).

  [130] _thrust upon'em_] _thrust uppon em_ F1. _thrust upon em_ F2.
  _put upon em_ F3. _put upon them_ F4. _thrust upon them_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [131, 132] _them; ... be,_] _them_, ... _be:_ F1 F2 F3. _them_, ...
  _be;_ F4.

  [134] _tang_] Ff. _tang with_ Hanmer.

  [141, 142] _thee,_ THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY. Daylight] Capell. _thee, the
  fortunate unhappy daylight_ Ff (_tht_ F1). _thee. The fortunate and
  happy daylight_ Rowe. _thee the fortunate and happy. Daylight_ Hanmer.

  [142] _champain_] Dyce. _champian_ F1 F2. _champion_ F3 F4.
  _champaign_ Collier (ed. 1).

  _discovers not_] Ff. _discovers no_ Pope, _discover no_ Hanmer.

  [143] _politic_] _pollticke_ F1.

  [144, 145] _point-devise_] _point devise_ Ff. _point-de-vice_
  Steevens.

  [145] _not now_] F1. _now_ F2 F3 F4. _not_ Hanmer.

  [146] _every_] _very_ Capell conj.

  [149] _kind of_] _kind_ Capell conj.

  [151] _be strange, stout_] _bestir me, strut_ Anon. conj.

  _stockings_] _stocking_ F2.

  [154] [Reads] Collier.

  [156] _dear_] _deero_ F1.

  [162] _So_] _And so_ Hanmer.

  [165] SCENE IX. Pope.

  [167] Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff (after line 164).

  [169] _at_] _at a_ F3 F4.

  [181] _a melancholy_] _melancholy_ F3 F4.

  [183] _gates of Tartar_] _gates Tartar_ F4. _gates, Tartar_ Rowe.
  _gates of Tartarus_ Collier MS.

  [185] [Exeunt.] Exeunt. Finis Actus secundus. F1. Exeunt. Finis Actus
  secundi. F2 F3 F4.




ACT III.

SCENE I. OLIVIA'S _garden_.


_Enter_ VIOLA, _and_ Clown _with a tabor_.

    _Vio._ Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live
    by thy tabor?

    _Clo._ No, sir, I live by the church.

    _Vio._ Art thou a churchman?

    _Clo._ No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I         5
    do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

    _Vio._ So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a
    beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy tabor,
    if thy tabor stand by the church.

    _Clo._ You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence            10
    is but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
    wrong side may be turned outward!

    _Vio._ Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
    words may quickly make them wanton.

    _Clo._ I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.        15

    _Vio._ Why, man?

    _Clo._ Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with
    that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed
    words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.

    _Vio._ Thy reason, man?                                           20

    _Clo._ Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words;
    and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason
    with them.

    _Vio._ I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for
    nothing.                                                          25

    _Clo._ Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
    conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for
    nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

    _Vio._ Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

    _Clo._ No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she         30
    will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as
    like husbands as pilchards are to herrings; the husband's
    the bigger: I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of
    words.

    _Vio._ I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.                     35

    _Clo._ Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,
    it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool
    should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: I
    think I saw your wisdom there.

    _Vio._ Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with               40
    thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee.

    _Clo._ Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send
    thee a beard!

    _Vio._ By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
    one; [_Aside_] though I would not have it grow on my chin.        45
    Is thy lady within?

    _Clo._ Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

    _Vio._ Yes, being kept together and put to use.

    _Clo._ I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to
    bring a Cressida to this Troilus.                                 50

    _Vio._ I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.

    _Clo._ The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
    a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir.
    I will construe to them whence you come; who you are
    and what you would are out of my welkin, I might say              55
    'element,' but the word is over-worn.               [_Exit._

    _Vio._ This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
    And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
    He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
    The quality of persons, and the time,                             60
    And, like the haggard, check at every feather
    That comes before his eye. This is a practice
    As full of labour as a wise man's art:
    For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
    But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.                65

_Enter_ SIR TOBY, _and_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir To._ Save you, gentleman.

    _Vio._ And you, sir.

    _Sir And._ Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

    _Vio._ Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

    _Sir And._ I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.                  70

    _Sir To._ Will you encounter the house? my niece is
    desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

    _Vio._ I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
    list of my voyage.

    _Sir To._ Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.               75

    _Vio._ My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand
    what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

    _Sir To._ I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

    _Vio._ I will answer you with gait and entrance. But
    we are prevented.                                                 80

_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ MARIA.

    Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours
    on you!

    _Sir And._ That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;'
    well.

    _Vio._ My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own             85
    most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.

    _Sir And._ 'Odours,' 'pregnant,' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll
    get 'em all three all ready.

    _Oli._ Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my
    hearing. [_Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria._] Give         90
    me your hand, sir.

    _Vio._ My duty, madam, and most humble service.

    _Oli._ What is your name?

    _Vio._ Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

    _Oli._ My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world                   95
    Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
    You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

    _Vio._ And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
    Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.

    _Oli._ For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,            100
    Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

    _Vio._ Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
    On his behalf.

    _Oli._           O, by your leave, I pray you,
    I bade you never speak again of him:
    But, would you undertake another suit,                           105
    I had rather hear you to solicit that
    Than music from the spheres.

    _Vio._                         Dear lady,--

    _Oli._ Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
    After the last enchantment you did here,
    A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse                           110
    Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
    Under your hard construction must I sit,
    To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
    Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
    Have you not set mine honour at the stake                        115
    And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
    That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
    Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
    Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

    _Vio._ I pity you.

    _Oli._              That's a degree to love.                     120

    _Vio._ No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
    That very oft we pity enemies.

    _Oli._ Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
    O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
    If one should be a prey, how much the better                     125
    To fall before the lion than the wolf!
                                               [_Clock strikes._
    The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
    Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
    And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
    Your wife is like to reap a proper man:                          130
    There lies your way, due west.

    _Vio._                           Then westward-ho!
    Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship!
    You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

    _Oli._ Stay:
    I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me.                     135

    _Vio._ That you do think you are not what you are.

    _Oli._ If I think so, I think the same of you.

    _Vio._ Then think you right: I am not what I am.

    _Oli._ I would you were as I would have you be!

    _Vio._ Would it be better, madam, than I am?                     140
    I wish it might, for now I am your fool.

    _Oli._ O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
    In the contempt and anger of his lip!
    A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
    Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.             145
    Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
    By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
    I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
    Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
    Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,                      150
    For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
    But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
    Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

    _Vio._ By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
    I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,                       155
    And that no woman has; nor never none
    Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
    And so adieu, good madam: never more
    Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

    _Oli._ Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move               160
    That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.   [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  OLIVIA'S garden] Pope. A garden. Rowe.

  with a tabor.] Malone. meeting. Capell.

  [2] _thy_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.

  [5] _sir: I do_] _sir: and yet I do_ Capell conj.

  [7] _king_] _kings_ F1.

  _lies_] _lives_ Collier (Capell conj.).

  [15] _had had_] _had_ Hanmer.

  [29] _not thou_] _thou not_ Steevens (1793), corrected in MS.

  [32] _pilchards_] Capell. _pilchers_ Ff.

  [35, 97] _Count_] _Duke_ Rowe.

  [36] _orb ... sun_] Ff. _orb; like the sun_ Dyce.

  [40] _an_] Pope. _and_ Ff.

  [41] _expenses_] _sixpence_ Badham conj.

  [Gives him a piece of money. Hanmer.

  [45] [Aside] Edd.

  [47] _bred_] _breed_ Malone conj.

  [52] _begging_] Pope. _begging,_ Ff.

  [54] _construe_] _conster_ Ff. _them_] _her Hanmer._

  [55] _are_] F1. _is_ F2 F3 F4.

  [61] _And_] Ff. _Not_ Rann (Johnson conj.). _Nor_ Harness.

  [63] _wise man's_] _wise-mans_ Ff.

  [64] _folly that he_] _he that folly_ Badham conj.

  [65] _wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint_] Capell (Theobald and
  Tyrwhitt conj.). _wisemens folly falne, quite taint_ F1. _wise mens
  folly falne, quite taint_ F2 F3 F4 (_faln_ F3 F4). _wise mens folly
  fall'n, quite taints Rowe_ (ed. 2). _wise men's, folly fal'n, quite
  taints_ Theobald. _wise men's folly shewn, quite taints_ Hanmer. _wise
  men's folly, fall'n, quite taints_ Heath conj. _wise men, folly-blown,
  quite taint their wit_ Anon. conj.

  [65] SIR ANDREW] Andrew Ff.

  [66] SCENE II. Pope. Sir To.] Sir And. Theobald.

  [68, 70] Sir And.] Sir To. Theobald.

  [68] _vous garde_] _vou guard_ Ff.

  [69] _vous aussi_] _vouz ousie_ F1. _vouz ausie_ F2 F3 F4.

  _votre serviteur_] _vostre serviture_ Ff.

  [71] Sir To.] om. Theobald.

  [80] MARIA] Gentlewoman Ff.

  [88] _all ready_] Malone. _already_ F1 F2. _ready_ F3 F4.

  [writing in his table-book. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [89] _Let_] _Maria, let_ Capell conj. reading as verse.

  [90] [Exeunt....] Rowe.

  SCENE III. Pope.

  [97] _You're_] _Y'are_ Ff.

  [106] _I had_] _I'd_ Pope.

  [107] _Dear_] _O dearest_ Hanmer.

  _lady,--_] Theobald. _lady_. Ff.

  [108] _Give_] _Nay, give_ Capell.

  _beseech_] _I beseech_ F3 F4.

  [109] _enchantment you did here_] Warburton (Thirlby conj.).
  _enchantment you did heare_ F1 F2. _enchantment you did hear_ F3 F4.
  _enchantment, you did hear_ Theobald.

  [113] _shameful_] _shame-fac'd_ Collier MS.

  [117] _one of_] om. Hanmer.

  _receiving_] _conceiving_ Mason conj.

  [118-120] S. Walker arranges as three lines ending _shown ... heart
  ... you_.

  [118] _cypress_] _Cipresse_ F1 F2 F3. _Cipress_ F4. _Cyprus_ Theobald.

  [119] _Hides_] _Hideth_ Delius conj.

  _heart_ F1. _poor heart_ F2 F3 F4.

  _me_] _us_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [121] _grize_] F1. _grice_ F2 F3 F4.

  [125] _the better_] _better_ F3 F4.

  [129] _is come_] _are come_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [131, 132] S. Walker would end the lines _west ... disposition ...
  ladyship_.

  [132] _attend_] _'tend_ Steevens.

  _your ladyship_] _you_ Hanmer.

  [133] _me?_] Rowe. _me:_ Ff.

  [135] _I_] om. Pope.

  [140] _am?_] Ff. _am,_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [142, 143] _beautiful ... lip!_] Rowe. _beautiful? ... lip,_ Ff.

  [148] _thy_] _my_ Collier MS.

  [150] _thy_] _'wry_ Hanmer.

  [157, 158] _it, save I alone. And_] _it._ Oli. _Save I alone!_ Vio.
  _And_ Hanmer.


SCENE II. OLIVIA'S _house_.

_Enter_ SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir And._ No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.

    _Sir To._ Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

    _Fab._ You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

    _Sir And._ Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to
    the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me;            5
    I saw 't i' the orchard.

    _Sir To._ Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me
    that.

    _Sir And._ As plain as I see you now.

    _Fab._ This was a great argument of love in her toward            10
    you.

    _Sir And._ 'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?

    _Fab._ I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of
    judgement and reason.

    _Sir To._ And they have been grand-jurymen since before           15
    Noah was a sailor.

    _Fab._ She did show favour to the youth in your sight
    only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to
    put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver. You
    should then have accosted her; and with some excellent            20
    jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the
    youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand,
    and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity you
    let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north
    of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle          25
    on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some
    laudable attempt either of valour or policy.

    _Sir And._ An't be any way, it must be with valour; for
    policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.

    _Sir To._ Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the               30
    basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight
    with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall take
    note of it; and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in
    the world can more prevail in man's commendation with
    woman than report of valour.                                      35

    _Fab._ There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

    _Sir And._ Will either of you bear me a challenge to
    him?

    _Sir To._ Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and
    brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full      40
    of invention: taunt him with the license of ink: if thou
    thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as
    many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the
    sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set
    'em down: go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy           45
    ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter:
    about it.

    _Sir And._ Where shall I find you?

    _Sir To._ We'll call thee at the cubiculo: go.
                                             [_Exit Sir Andrew._

    _Fab._ This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby.                   50

    _Sir To._ I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
    strong, or so.

    _Fab._ We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll
    not deliver't?

    _Sir To._ Never trust me, then; and by all means stir             55
    on the youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
    cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened,
    and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the
    foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

    _Fab._ And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage           60
    no great presage of cruelty.

_Enter_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.

    _Mar._ If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves
    into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
    turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian,       65
    that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe
    such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow
    stockings.

    _Sir To._ And cross-gartered?

    _Mar._ Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a               70
    school i' the church. I have dogged him, like his murderer.
    He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to
    betray him: he does smile his face into more lines than is
    in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies: you
    have not seen such a thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear          75
    hurling things at him. I know my lady will strike him: if
    she do, he'll smile and take't for a great favour.

    _Sir To._ Come, bring us, bring us where he is.    [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] SCENE IV. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.

  [5, 31] _count's_] _Duke's_ Rowe.

  [5] _upon_] _on_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [7] _thee the_] F3 F4. _the_ F1 F2. _you the_ Long MS.

  [12] _'Slight_] F3 F4. _S'light_ F1 F2.

  [13] _I will_] F1. _I_ F2 F3 F4.

  [27] _laudable_] om. Rowe.

  [28] _An't_] Hanmer. _And't_ Ff.

  [31] _youth to fight_] _youth; go, fight_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [32] _with him_] _with you_ Ritson conj.

  [35] _woman_] _women_ Hanmer.

  [39] _curst_] _curt_ Grey conj.

  [45] _go, about_] Capell. _go about_ Ff. _and go about_ Rowe.

  [46] _write_] _write it_ Rowe.

  [49] _the_] _thy_ Hanmer.

  [50] SCENE V. Pope.

  [57] _Andrew_] _Sir Andrew_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [58] _and_] _an_ S. Walker conj.

  [62] _nine_] Theobald, _mine_ Ff.

  [64] _yond_] _yon'_ Capell.

  [65] _heathen_] _a heathen_ S. Walker conj.

  _renegado_] Rowe. _Renegatho_ Ff.

  [73] _is_] Ff. _are_ Steevens.

  [78] [Exeunt.] Exeunt Omnes Ff.


SCENE III. _A street._

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN _and_ ANTONIO.

    _Seb._ I would not by my will have troubled you;
    But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
    I will no further chide you.

    _Ant._ I could not stay behind you: my desire,
    More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;                    5
    And not all love to see you, though so much
    As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
    But jealousy what might befall your travel,
    Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
    Unguided and unfriended, often prove                              10
    Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,
    The rather by these arguments of fear,
    Set forth in your pursuit.

    _Seb._                     My kind Antonio,
    I can no other answer make but thanks,
    And thanks; and ever ... oft good turns                           15
    Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
    But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,
    You should find better dealing. What's to do?
    Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

    _Ant._ To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.            20

    _Seb._ I am not weary, and 'tis long to night:
    I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
    With the memorials and the things of fame
    That do renown this city.

    _Ant._                   Would you'ld pardon me;
    I do not without danger walk these streets:                       25
    Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys
    I did some service; of such note indeed,
    That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answer'd.

    _Seb._ Belike you slew great number of his people.

    _Ant._ The offence is not of such a bloody nature;                30
    Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
    Might well have given us bloody argument.
    It might have since been answer'd in repaying
    What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
    Most of our city did: only myself stood out;                      35
    For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
    I shall pay dear.

    _Seb._           Do not then walk too open.

    _Ant._ It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse.
    In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
    Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,                        40
    Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
    With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.

    _Seb._ Why I your purse?

    _Ant._ Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
    You have desire to purchase; and your store,                      45
    I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

    _Seb._ I'll be your purse-bearer and leave you
    For an hour.

    _Ant._ To the Elephant.

    _Seb._                 I do remember.    [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE VI. Pope.

  A street.] Capell. The street. Rowe.

  [7] _one_] _me_ Heath conj.

  [15, 16] _And thanks ... pay_] Omitted in F2 F3 F4.

  [15] _And thanks; and ever ... oft good turns_] _And thankes: and ever
  oft good turnes_ F1. _And thanks: and ever oft-good turns_ Pope (ed.
  1). _And thanks: and ever-oft good turns_ Id. (ed. 2). _And thanks,
  and ever thanks; and oft good turns_ Theobald. _And thanks, and ever;
  oft good turns_ Steevens (1778). _And thanks again and ever; oft good
  turns_ Rann (Tollet conj.). _And thanks, and ever thanks: oft good
  turns_ Malone. _And thanks, and ever thanks: often good turns_
  Steevens (1794). _And thanks, and ever thanks; too oft good turns_
  Seymour conj. _And thanks, still thanks; and very oft good turns_
  Collier (Collier MS.). _And thanks, and ever thanks; though oft good
  turns_ Lettsom conj. _And thanks: and very oft good turns_ Grant
  White. _And thanks, and thanks; and very oft good turns_ Id. conj.

  [17] _worth_] _wealth_ Collier MS.

  [20] _lodging_] _lodging?_ F1.

  [26] _count his_] _Duke his_ Rowe. _County's_ Malone conj.

  [29] _people._] _people?_ Dyce.

  [36] _lapsed_] _latched_ Hunter conj.

  [47, 48] _you For an_] Ff. _you for An_ Theobald. As prose in Boswell.

  [48] Exeunt.] Ff. Exeunt severally. Capell.


SCENE IV. OLIVIA'S _garden_.

_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ MARIA.

    _Oli._ I have sent after him: he says he'll come;
    How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?
    For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd.
    I speak too loud.
    Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil,                            5
    And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:
    Where is Malvolio?

    _Mar._ He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner.
    He is, sure, possessed, madam.

    _Oli._ Why, what's the matter? does he rave?                      10

    _Mar._ No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your
    ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he
    come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.

    _Oli._ Go call him hither. [_Exit Maria._] I am as mad as he,
    If sad and merry madness equal be.                                15

_Re-enter_ MARIA, _with_ MALVOLIO.

    How now, Malvolio!

    _Mal._ Sweet lady, ho, ho.

    _Oli._ Smilest thou?
    I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

    _Mal._ Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some             20
    obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of
    that? if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very
    true sonnet is, 'Please one, and please all.'

    _Oli._ Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter
    with thee?                                                        25

    _Mal._ Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs.
    It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed:
    I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.

    _Oli._ Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.            30

    _Oli._ God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and
    kiss thy hand so oft?

    _Mar._ How do you, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.

    _Mar._ Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness               35
    before my lady?

    _Mal._'Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well writ.

    _Oli._ What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ 'Some are born great,'--

    _Oli._ Ha!                                                        40

    _Mal._ 'Some achieve greatness,'--

    _Oli._ What sayest thou?

    _Mal._ 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'

    _Oli._ Heaven restore thee!

    _Mal._ 'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'--           45

    _Oli._ Thy yellow stockings!

    _Mal._ 'And wished to see thee cross-gartered.'

    _Oli._ Cross-gartered!

    _Mal._ 'Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;'--       50

    _Oli._ Am I made?

    _Mal._ 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'

    _Oli._ Why, this is very midsummer madness.

_Enter_ Servant.

    _Ser._ Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's
    is returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he                  55
    attends your ladyship's pleasure.

    _Oli._ I'll come to him. [_Exit Servant._] Good Maria,
    let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby?
    Let some of my people have a special care of him: I would
    not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.                   60
                                     [_Exeunt Olivia and Maria._

    _Mal._ O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man
    than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with
    the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear
    stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter.
    'Cast thy humble slough,' says she; 'be opposite with a           65
    kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments
    of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity;'
    and consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad face,
    a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir
    of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's         70
    doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went
    away now, 'Let this fellow be looked to:' fellow! not Malvolio,
    nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing
    adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a
    scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance--What 75
    can be said? Nothing that can be can come between
    me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove,
    not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

_Re-enter_ MARIA, _with_ SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir To._ Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If
    all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself     80
    possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.

    _Fab._ Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir?
    how is't with you, man?

    _Mal._ Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private:
    go off.                                                           85

    _Mar._ Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did
    not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a
    care of him.

    _Mal._ Ah, ha! does she so?

    _Sir To._ Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal                90
    gently with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio?
    how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil; consider,
    he's an enemy to mankind.

    _Mal._ Do you know what you say?

    _Mar._ La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he              95
    takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

    _Fab._ Carry his water to the wise woman.

    _Mar._ Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning,
    if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll
    say.                                                             100

    _Mal._ How now, mistress!

    _Mar._ O Lord!

    _Sir To._ Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way:
    do you not see you move him? let me alone with him.

    _Fab._ No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend          105
    is rough, and will not be roughly used.

    _Sir To._ Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou,
    chuck?

    _Mal._ Sir!

    _Sir To._ Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis               110
    not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang him,
    foul collier!

    _Mar._ Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get
    him to pray.

    _Mal._ My prayers, minx!                                         115

    _Mar._ No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

    _Mal._ Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow
    things: I am not of your element: you shall know more
    hereafter.                                          [_Exit._

    _Sir To._ Is't possible?                                         120

    _Fab._ If this were played upon a stage now, I could
    condemn it as an improbable fiction.

    _Sir To._ His very genius hath taken the infection of
    the device, man.

    _Mar._ Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air             125
    and taint.

    _Fab._ Why, we shall make him mad indeed.

    _Mar._ The house will be the quieter.

    _Sir To._ Come, we'll have him in a dark room and
    bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad:          130
    we may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till
    our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have
    mercy on him: at which time we will bring the device to
    the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see,
    but see.                                                         135

_Enter_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Fab._ More matter for a May morning.

    _Sir And._ Here's the challenge, read it: I warrant
    there's vinegar and pepper in't.

    _Fab._ Is't so saucy?

    _Sir And._ Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read.                 140

  _Sir To._ Give me. [_Reads_] Youth, whatsoever thou art,
  thou art but a scurvy fellow.

    _Fab._ Good, and valiant.

  _Sir To._ [_reads_] Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why
  I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.           145

    _Fab._ A good note; that keeps you from the blow of
    the law.

  _Sir To._ [_reads_] Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my
  sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the
  matter I challenge thee for.                                       150

    _Fab._ Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less.

  _Sir To._ [_reads_] I will waylay thee going home; where if it be
  thy chance to kill me,--

    _Fab._ Good.

  _Sir To._ [_reads_] Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.    155

    _Fab._ Still you keep o' the windy side of the law:
    good.

  _Sir To._ [_reads_] Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one
  of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better,
  and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn 160
  enemy,

                                   ANDREW AGUECHEEK.

    If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't
    him.

    _Mar._ You may have very fit occasion for't: he is
    now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by            165
    depart.

    _Sir To._ Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner
    of the orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou
    seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for
    it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering     170
    accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation
    than ever proof itself would have earned him.
    Away!

    _Sir And._ Nay, let me alone for swearing.          [_Exit._

    _Sir To._ Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behaviour   175
    of the young gentleman gives him out to be of
    good capacity and breeding; his employment between his
    lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this letter,
    being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the
    youth: he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will   180
    deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek
    a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman,
    as I know his youth will aptly receive it, into a most
    hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity.
    This will so fright them both, that they will kill one another   185
    by the look, like cockatrices.

_Re-enter_ OLIVIA, _with_ VIOLA.

    _Fab._ Here he comes with your niece: give them way
    till he take leave, and presently after him.

    _Sir To._ I will meditate the while upon some horrid
    message for a challenge.                                         190
                          [_Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria._

    _Oli._ I have said too much unto a heart of stone
    And laid mine honour too unchary out:
    There's something in me that reproves my fault;
    But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
    That it but mocks reproof.                                       195

    _Vio._ With the same 'haviour that your passion bears
    Goes on my master's grief.

    _Oli._ Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture;
    Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;
    And I beseech you come again to-morrow.                          200
    What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
    That honour saved may upon asking give?

    _Vio._ Nothing but this;--your true love for my master.

    _Oli._ How with mine honour may I give him that
    Which I have given to you?

    _Vio._                       I will acquit you.                  205

    _Oli._ Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:
    A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.       [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir To._ Gentleman, God save thee.

    _Vio._ And you, sir.

    _Sir To._ That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of           210
    what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know
    not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the
    hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end: dismount thy tuck,
    be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful
    and deadly.                                                      215

    _Vio._ You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any
    quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free and clear
    from any image of offence done to any man.

    _Sir To._ You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore,
    if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your           220
    guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength,
    skill and wrath can furnish man withal.

    _Vio._ I pray you, sir, what is he?

    _Sir To._ He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier
    and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private        225
    brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement
    at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction
    can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob,
    nob, is his word; give't or take't.

    _Vio._ I will return again into the house and desire some        230
    conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of
    some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to
    taste their valour: belike this is a man of that quirk.

    _Sir To._ Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a
    very competent injury: therefore, get you on and give him        235
    his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake
    that with me which with as much safety you might
    answer him: therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked;
    for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron
    about you.                                                       240

    _Vio._ This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do
    me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my
    offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing
    of my purpose.

    _Sir To._ I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this         245
    gentleman till my return.                           [_Exit._

    _Vio._ Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?

    _Fab._ I know the knight is incensed against you, even
    to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance
    more.                                                            250

    _Vio._ I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

    _Fab._ Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him
    by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his
    valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody and
    fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any         255
    part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make
    your peace with him if I can.

    _Vio._ I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one
    that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I care not
    who knows so much of my mettle.                   [_Exeunt._     260


_Re-enter_ SIR TOBY, _with_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir To._ Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen
    such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and
    all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion,
    that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as
    surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say        265
    he has been fencer to the Sophy.

    _Sir And._ Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.

    _Sir To._ Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian
    can scarce hold him yonder.

    _Sir And._ Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant         270
    and so cunning in fence, I'ld have seen him damned
    ere I'ld have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip,
    and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

    _Sir To._ I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good
    show on't: this shall end without the perdition of souls.        275
    [_Aside_] Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.

_Re-enter_ FABIAN _and_ VIOLA.

    [_To Fab._] I have his horse to take up the quarrel: I have
    persuaded him the youth's a devil.

    _Fab._ He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and
    looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.                      280

    _Sir To._ [_To Vio._] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight
    with you for's oath sake: marry, he hath better bethought
    him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth
    talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow;
    he protests he will not hurt you.                                285

    _Vio._ [_Aside_] Pray God defend me! A little thing
    would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

    _Fab._ Give ground, if you see him furious.

    _Sir To._ Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the
    gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with        290
    you; he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has promised
    me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you.
    Come on; to't.

    _Sir And._ Pray God, he keep his oath!

    _Vio._ I do assure you, 'tis against my will.  [_They draw._     295


_Enter_ ANTONIO.

    _Ant._ Put up your sword. If this young gentleman
    Have done offence, I take the fault on me:
    If you offend him, I for him defy you.

    _Sir To._ You, sir! why, what are you?

    _Ant._ One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more             300
    Than you have heard him brag to you he will.

    _Sir To._ Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
                                                   [_They draw._

_Enter_ Officers.

    _Fab._ O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.

    _Sir To._ I'll be with you anon.

    _Vio._ Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.              305

    _Sir And._ Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised
    you, I 'll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily
    and reins well.

    _First Off._ This is the man; do thy office.

    _Sec. Off._ Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino.  310

    _Ant._ You do mistake me, sir.

    _First Off._ No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
    Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.
    Take him away: he knows I know him well.                         315

    _Ant._ I must obey. [_To Vio._] This comes with seeking you:
    But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
    What will you do, now my necessity
    Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
    Much more for what I cannot do for you                           320
    Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
    But be of comfort.

    _Sec. Off._ Come, sir, away.

    _Ant._ I must entreat of you some of that money.

    _Vio._ What money, sir?                                          325
    For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
    And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
    Out of my lean and low ability
    I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
    I'll make division of my present with you:                       330
    Hold, there's half my coffer.

    _Ant._                       Will you deny me now?
    Is't possible that my deserts to you
    Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
    Lest that it make me so unsound a man
    As to upbraid you with those kindnesses                          335
    That I have done for you.

    _Vio._                   I know of none;
    Nor know I you by voice or any feature:
    I hate ingratitude more in a man
    Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
    Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption                     340
    Inhabits our frail blood.

    _Ant._                   O heavens themselves!

    _Sec. Off._ Come, sir, I pray you, go.

    _Ant._ Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
    I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
    Relieved him with such sanctity of love;                         345
    And to his image, which methought did promise
    Most venerable worth, did I devotion.

    _First Off._ What's that to us? The time goes by: away!

    _Ant._ But O how vile an idol proves this god!
    Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.                   350
    In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
    None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind:
    Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil
    Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.

    _First Off._ The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.  355

    _Ant._ Lead me on.                    [_Exit with Officers._

    _Vio._ Methinks his words do from such passion fly,
    That he believes himself: so do not I.
    Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
    That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!                      360

    _Sir To._ Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian:
    we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.

    _Vio._ He named Sebastian: I my brother know
    Yet living in my glass; even such and so
    In favour was my brother, and he went                            365
    Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
    For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
    Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love!     [_Exit._

    _Sir To._ A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward
    than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend        370
    here in necessity and denying him; and for his cowardship,
    ask Fabian.

    _Fab._ A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

    _Sir And._ 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.

    _Sir To._ Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy               375
    sword.

    _Sir And._ An I do not,--                           [_Exit._

    _Fab._ Come, let's see the event.

    _Sir To._ I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE VII. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S garden.] Capell. Olivia's house. Rowe.

  [1] _he says he'll_] _say, he will_ Theobald.

  [2, 3] _bestow of him? For youth is ... borrow'd_] _bestow? for youth
  Is ... borrow'd of_ Badham conj.

  [2] _of_] _on_ Pope.

  [4,5] _I speak ... civil_] Printed as in Pope; as one line in Ff.

  [5] _Where is_] Pope. _Where's_ Ff.

  [7-10] _Where is ... rave?_] As prose in Pope; as three lines in Ff,
  ending _madam ... madam ... rave?_ As three lines in Hanmer, ending
  _madam ... possest ... rave?_

  [8] _He's_] _He is_ Hanmer.

  _very_] om. Hanmer.

  [11] _nothing_] _nothing else_ Hanmer, who reads lines 11-14 as four
  verses, ending _smile; ... guard ... man ... hither._

  [13] _in 's_] _in his_ Hanmer.

  [14] [Exit M.] Dyce.

  _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [15] _merry_] _mercy_ F2.

  Re-enter M. with Malvolio.] Dyce. Enter Malvolio. Ff (after _hither_,
  line 14).

  [16] _How_] Ol. _How_ F2.

  [17] _ho, ho_] F1. _ha, ha_ F2 F3 F4. om. Capell, reading _How now ...
  thou?_ as one line.

  [Smiles fantastically. Rowe (smile. ed. I.)

  [18, 19] _Smilest ... occasion_] As one line in Ff.

  [20-25] _Sad ... thee?_] Printed as seven lines in Ff, ending _sad ...
  blood ... that? ... true ... all ... man ... thee?_

  [23] _is_] _it_ F2. _has it_ Capell.

  [24] Oli.] Mal. F1.

  [28] _the sweet_] _that sweet_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [38] _meanest_] _meanst_ F1.

  [47] _Thy_] _My_ Lettsom conj.

  [53] _very_] _a very_ Rann.

  [54] _Count_] _Duke_ Rowe.

  [57] [Exit Servant.] Capell.

  [58] _cousin_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [60] [Exeunt O. and M.] Capell. Exit. Ff.

  [61] SCENE VIII. Pope.

  [66] _tang with_] _langer with_ F1. _tang_ Capell.

  [70] _Jove's_] _God's_ Halliwell. _Love's_ Grant White conj.

  [71] _Jove_] _God_ Halliwell. _Love_ Grant White conj.

  [78] Re-enter....] Capell. Enter T., F., and M. Ff.

  [79] SCENE IX. Pope.

  _sanctity_] _sanity_ S. Walker conj.

  [82] _How is't_] Sir To. _How is't_ Anon. conj.

  [84] _private_] _privacy_ Rowe.

  [91] _me_] _him_ Rowe.

  _do you_] _do you do_ F4.

  [95] _an_] Capell. _and_ Ff. _if_ Pope.

  [103] _this_] _that_ F4.

  [104] _let me alone with him_] Omitted in F3 F4.

  [107] _bawcock_] F1 F2. _havock_ F3 F4.

  [110] _Ay, Biddy, come with me._] See note (XI).

  [116] Mar.] Fab. Anon. conj.

  [125] _lest_] F4. _least_ F1 F2 F3.

  [128] _will_] _well_ F2.

  [136] SCENE X. Pope.

  [140] _Ay, is't_] Collier. _I, is't?_ F1 F2. _I, is't?_ F3 F4. _Ay, is
  it,_ Boswell.

  [141] [Reads.] Rowe.

  [146] _good_] _very good_ Rowe (ed 1).

  [151] _to_] om. Rowe.

  _sense--less_] _sence-lesse_ F1 F2. _sense-lesse_ F3. _sense-less_ F4.
  _senseless_ Capell.

  [159] _mine_] _thine_ Johnson conj.

  [162] _If_] To. _If_ Ff.

  [168] _bum-baily_] _bum-bailiff_ Theobald.

  [169] _horrible_] F1. _horribly_ F2 F3 F4.

  [180] _it comes_] F1 F2. _that it comes_ F3 F4.

  [186] Re-enter O. and V.] Collier (after line 184). Enter O. and V.
  Ff.

  [187] SCENE XL Pope.

  [190] [Exeunt Sir T., F. and M.] Capell. Exeunt. F2 F3 F4. om. F1.

  [191] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [192] _out_] Theobald. _on't_ Ff.

  [196, 197] _'haviour that your ... Goes ... grief_] _'haviour Your ...
  goes ... grief_ Capell conj.

  [197] _Goes ... grief_] Rowe. _Goes ... greefes_ F1 F2. _Goes ...
  griefs_ F3 F4. _Go ... griefs_ Malone.

  [202] _That honour saved_] _That honour (sav'd)_ F1 F2. _That (honour
  sav'd)_ F3 F4.

  [208] SCENE XII. Pope.

  [212] _intercepter_] _interpreter_ Warburton.

  [216] _sir; I am sure_] Theobald. _sir I am sure,_ F1 F2. _sir, I am
  sure,_ F3 F4. _sir, I am sure_ Rowe.

  [222] _man_] _a man_ F3 F4.

  [224] _knight_] _a knight_ Collier MS.

  _unhatched_] _unhack'd_ Pope. _an hatcht_ Malone conj.

  [229] _nob_] _nod_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [234] _Sir, no_] _No, sir, no_ Hanmer.

  _derives_] _drives_ F4.

  [235] _competent_] F4. _computent_ F1 F2 F3.

  [238] _him:_] F1 F3 F4. _him?_ F2. _to him;_ Hanmer.

  _or_] _and_ Hanmer.

  _your sword_] _you of sword_ Anon. conj.

  [241] _as uncivil_] _an uncivil_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [242] _as to know_] _to know_ Capell.

  [260] [Exeunt.] om. Capell. See note (XII).

  Re-enter....] Capell. Enter Toby and Andrew. Ff. Re-enter Sir T. with
  Sir A. hanging back. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [261] SCENE XIII. Pope. SCENE V. Dyce and Staunton.

  [262] _firago_] _virago_ Rowe.

  [263] _stuck in_] _stuck--in_ Johnson. _stuck-in_, Capell. _stuckin_
  Singer.

  [264] _you_] _your_ F2.

  [265] _hit_] Rowe. _hits_ Ff.

  [269] _yonder_] om. Rowe.

  [270] _an_] Theobald. _and_ Ff. _if_ Pope.

  [273] _Capilet_] _Capulet_ Dyce.

  [276] [_Aside_] Theobald.

  Re-enter F. and V.] Enter F. and V. Ff. om. Capell. Enter F. and V.
  unwillingly. Collier MS.

  [277] [To Fab.] Rowe.

  _take up_] _make up_ Anon. conj.

  [281] [To Vio.] Capell.

  [282] _oath sake_] _oath's sake_ Capell.

  [283] _scarce to be_] _to be scarce_ Capell conj.

  [286] [Aside] Capell.

  [295] SCENE XIV. Pope.

  [They draw.] Rowe. They go back from each other. Collier (Collier
  MS.).

  Enter A.] Ff (after line 294). Enter A.; draws, and runs between.
  Capell.

  [298] [Drawing. Rowe.

  [302] [They draw.] Edd. Draws. Rowe.

  Enter Officers.] Enter two Officers. Capell. Enter Officers. Dyce and
  Staunton (after line 308).

  [304] [To Antonio. Capell.

  [305] [To Sir Andrew. Rowe.

  [310-312] As two lines in Capell, ending _suit ... sir._

  [310] _Count_] _Duke_ Rowe.

  [316] [To Vio.] Collier.

  [318, 319] _do, now ... purse?_] Dyce and Staunton. _do: now ...
  purse._ F1. _doe? now ... purse._ F2 F3 F4.

  [324] _money_] _money back_ Capell, reading 323-325 as two lines,
  ending _you ... sir?_

  [331] _Hold, there's_] _Hold, There's_ S. Walker conj.

  _there's_] _there is_ Hanmer.

  _now?_] F3 F4. _now,_ F1 F2.

  [334] _Lest_] F4. _Least_ F1 F2 F3.

  [339] _lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness_] Steevens (1793).
  _lying, vainnesse, babling drunkennesse_ Ff. _lying vainness, babbling
  drunkenness_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [342] _pray you, go_] _pray, go_ S. Walker conj., ending the line at
  _little_. _pray you_ Lloyd conj.

  [343] _speak_] _but speak_ Hanmer.

  _This youth_] _Why, this youth_ Hanmer, ending lines 342, 343 at
  _speak ... here_.

  [345] _love;_] Ff. _love,--_ Capell. After this S. Walker supposes a
  line to be lost.

  [346] _his_] _this_ S. Walker conj.

  [347] _venerable_] _veritable_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [349] _vile_] Pope. _vilde_ F1 F2 F3. _vild_ F4.

  [353] _beauteous evil_] _beauteous-evil_ Malone.

  [355] _The man_] _Surely the man_ Hanmer.

  _Come_] 2. Off. _Come_ Capell. This word begins a line in Ff.

  [356] with Officers.] Theobald. om. Ff.

  [362] _we'll_] _Weel_ F1. _Well_ F2 F3 F4.

  [367] _O, if_] _so if_ Becket conj.

  [368] [Exit.] F2 F3 F4. om. F1.

  [373] _a most_] om. Hanmer.

  [374] _'Slid_] _Od's lid_ Hanmer.

  [375] _never_] _ne'er_ Hanmer.

  [377] _An_] _Theobald_. _And_ Ff. _If_ Pope.

  _not,--_] Theobald. _not._ Ff.

  [378] _let's_] _let us_ Hanmer.

  [379] _any_] om. Hanmer.

  [Exeunt.] Rowe. [Exit. Ff.




ACT IV.

SCENE I. _Before_ OLIVIA'S _house_.


_Enter_ SEBASTIAN _and_ Clown.

    _Clo._ Will you make me believe that I am not sent for
    you?

    _Seb._ Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:
    Let me be clear of thee.

    _Clo._ Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you;             5
    nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come
    speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor
    this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.

    _Seb._ I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else:
    Thou know'st not me.                                              10

    _Clo._ Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some
    great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I
    am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.
    I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness and tell me what I
    shall vent to my lady: shall I vent to her that thou art          15
    coming?

    _Seb._ I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me:
    There's money for thee: if you tarry longer,
    I shall give worse payment.

    _Clo._ By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise            20
    men that give fools money get themselves a good report--after
    fourteen years' purchase.

_Enter_ SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir And._ Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for
    you.

    _Seb._ Why, there's for thee, and there, and there.               25
    Are all the people mad?

    _Sir To._ Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the
    house.

    _Clo._ This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be
    in some of your coats for two pence.                              30
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Sir To._ Come on, sir; hold.

    _Sir And._ Nay, let him alone: I'll go another way to
    work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him,
    if there be any law in Illyria: though I stroke him first,
    yet it's no matter for that.                                      35

    _Seb._ Let go thy hand.

    _Sir To._ Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my
    young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed;
    come on.

    _Seb._ I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?           40
    If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.

    _Sir To._ What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce
    or two of this malapert blood from you.

_Enter_ OLIVIA.

    _Oli._ Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold!

    _Sir To._ Madam!                                                  45

    _Oli._ Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
    Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
    Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight!
    Be not offended, dear Cesario.
    Rudesby, be gone!
                     [_Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian._

                   I prithee, gentle friend,                          50
    Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
    In this uncivil and unjust extent
    Against thy peace. Go with me to my house;
    And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
    This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby                   55
    Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:
    Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
    He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

    _Seb._ What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
    Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:                             60
    Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
    If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

    _Oli._ Nay, come, I prithee: would thou'ldst be ruled by me!

    _Seb._ Madam, I will.

    _Oli._                O, say so, and so be!       [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. Before....] The street before.... Capell. The street. Rowe.
  om. Ff.

  [9, 10] Arranged as in Capell; as prose in Ff.

  [13] _great lubber, the world_] _great lubberly World_ Collier MS.
  _great luberly word_ Grant White (Douce conj.). _lubberly word_
  Staunton conj. See note (XIII).

  [15] _that thou_] _that that_ F2.

  [17] _Greek_] F3 F4. _greeke_ F1 F2. _geck_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).
  _grig_ or _gleeker_ Anon. conj.

  [17-19] Arranged as in Capell; as prose in Ff.

  [19] _worse_] _worser_ Anon. conj.

  [21] _report--_] Staunton. _report,_ Ff.

  [24] [Striking Sebastian. Rowe.

  [25] _and there, and there_] _and there, and there, and there_ Capell.

  [Beating Sir Andrew. Rowe.

  [30] [Exit.] Rowe. om. Ff.

  [31] _Come on, sir_] _Come, sir_ Rann. _Come off, sir_ Anon. conj.

  [Holding Sebastian. Rowe.

  [34] be] he F2.

  [_stroke_] F1 F2. _strook_ F3. _struck_ F4.

  [38] _put up ... fleshed_] [To Sir And.] _put up ... fleshed_ Badham
  conj.

  [40] [Wrenches from him and draws. Capell.

  [43] [They draw and fight. Rowe.

  [44] SCENE II. Pope.

  [50] [Exeunt....] Capell. Exeunt Sir T. and Sir A. Rowe.

  [55] _botched_] _bouch'd_ Becket conj.

  [63] _prithee_] _pray_ Pope.


SCENE II. OLIVIA'S _house_.

_Enter_ MARIA _and_ CLOWN.

    _Mar._ Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;
    make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do it
    quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst.
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Clo._ Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself
    in 't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in        5
    such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function
    well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but
    to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as
    fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The
    competitors enter.                                                10

_Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ Jove bless thee, master Parson.

    _Clo._ Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of
    Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a
    niece of King Gorboduc, 'That that is is;' so I, being master
    Parson, am master Parson; for, what is 'that' but 'that,'         15
    and 'is' but 'is'?

    _Sir To._ To him, Sir Topas.

    _Clo._ What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!

    _Sir To._ The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

    _Mal._ [_within_] Who calls there?                                20

    _Clo._ Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
    the lunatic.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my
    lady.

    _Clo._ Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this              25
    man! talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

    _Sir To._ Well said, master Parson.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good
    Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me here
    in hideous darkness.                                              30

    _Clo._ Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most
    modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will
    use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house
    is dark?

    _Mal._ As hell, Sir Topas.                                        35

    _Clo._ Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
    and the clearstores toward the south north are as lustrous
    as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?

    _Mal._ I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this
    house is dark.                                                    40

    _Clo._ Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness
    but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the
    Egyptians in their fog.

    _Mal._ I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though
    ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never        45
    man thus abused. I am no more mad than you are: make
    the trial of it in any constant question.

    _Clo._ What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
    wild fowl?

    _Mal._ That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit           50
    a bird.

    _Clo._ What thinkest thou of his opinion?

    _Mal._ I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve
    his opinion.

    _Clo._ Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness:             55
    thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of
    thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess
    the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, Sir Topas!

    _Sir To._ My most exquisite Sir Topas!                            60

    _Clo._ Nay, I am for all waters.

    _Mar._ Thou mightst have done this without thy beard
    and gown: he sees thee not.

    _Sir To._ To him in thine own voice, and bring me word
    how thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this            65
    knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he
    were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I
    cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come
    by and by to my chamber.       [_Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria._

    _Clo._ [_Singing_] Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,                       70
                                  Tell me how thy lady does.

    _Mal._ Fool,----

    _Clo._ My lady is unkind, perdy.

    _Mal._ Fool,----

    _Clo._ Alas, why is she so?                                       75

    _Mal._ Fool, I say,----

    _Clo._ She loves another--Who calls, ha?

    _Mal._ Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my
    hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper: as I
    am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.         80

    _Clo._ Master Malvolio?

    _Mal._ Ay, good fool.

    _Clo._ Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?

    _Mal._ Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused:
    I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.                       85

    _Clo._ But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be
    no better in your wits than a fool.

    _Mal._ They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness,
    send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to
    face me out of my wits.                                           90

    _Clo._ Advise you what you say; the minister is here.
    Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour
    thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas,----

    _Clo._ Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who,              95
    I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas. Marry,
    amen. I will, sir, I will.

    _Mal._ Fool, fool, fool, I say,----

    _Clo._ Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am
    shent for speaking to you.                                       100

    _Mal._ Good fool, help me to some light and some
    paper: I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in
    Illyria.

    _Clo._ Well-a-day that you were, sir!

    _Mal._ By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper            105
    and light; and convey what I will set down to my lady: it
    shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter
    did.

    _Clo._ I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you
    not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?                       110

    _Mal._ Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.

    _Clo._ Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his
    brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.

    _Mal._ Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I
    prithee, be gone.                                                115

    _Clo._ [_Singing_] I am gone, sir,
    And anon, sir,
    I'll be with you again,
    In a trice,
    Like to the old vice,                                            120
    Your need to sustain;

    Who, with dagger of lath,
    In his rage and his wrath,
    Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
    Like a mad lad,                                                  125
    Pare thy nails, dad;
    Adieu, goodman Drivel.                              [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] SCENE III. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.

  [3] [Exit.] Exit M. Theobald.

  [6] _tall_] _fat_ Reed (1803) (Farmer conj.). _pale_ Tyrwhitt conj.
  _of taille_ Becket conj.

  [7] _student_] _studient_ F1.


  [9] _careful_] _graceful_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [10] Enter Sir T. and M.] Theobald. Enter Toby. Ff.

  [11] _Jove_] _God_ Edd. conj.

  [11, 14, 15, 27] _master_] _M._ Ff and passim.

  [13] _Prague_] Rowe. _Prage_ F1 F2 F3. _Prauge_ F4.

  [14] _Gorboduc_] _Gorboduck_ Pope. _Gorbodacke_ F1 F2 F4. _Gorbodack_
  F3.

  [18] [rapping at an inner door. Capell.

  [20] Mal. [within] Malvolio within (as a stage direction) Mal. Ff.

  [26] _nothing but of_] _of nothing but_ Anon. conj.

  [33] _that_] _this_ Rann. _the_ or _that_ _the_ Anon. conj.

  [37] _clearstores_] _cleere stores_ F1. _cleare stones_ F2. _clear
  stones_ F3 F4. _clear stories_ Boswell (Blakeway conj.).

  [49] _wild fowl_] _the soul_ Theobald conj.

  [50] _haply_] Capell. _happily_ Ff.

  [58] _soul_] _soule_ F1. _house_ F2 F3 F4.

  [61] _waters_] _wanters_ or _ventures_ Anon. conj.

  [65] _well_] F1. _all_ F2 F3 F4. _all well_ Collier MS.

  [68] _to the upshot_] Rowe. _the upshot_ Ff.

  [69] _chamber_] _champer_ F2.

  [Exeunt....] Exit with Maria. Theobald. Exit Ff.

  [70] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [Singing] Rowe.

  [70, 71] _Hey ... does._] _Hey, jolly Robin, tell to me, How does thy
  lady do?_ Farmer conj.

  [71] _thy_] _my_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [83] _besides_] _beside_ Capell conj.

  [86] _you are_] _thou art_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [88] _have here_] _have_ Pope.

  [96] _be wi' you_] _buy you_ Ff. _b' w' you_ Pope.

  [97] _sir, I will_] F1. _sir, I will sir_ F2 F3 F4.

  [109, 110] _are you not_] _are you_ Johnson conj.

  [110] _or_] _and_ Malone conj.

  [116-127] Arranged as in Capell. As eight lines in Ff.

  [116] [Singing] Rowe. on. Ff.

  [119, 120] _In a trice, Like to the_] _With a trice, Like the_ Collier
  MS. _With a trice, Like to the_ Collier (ed. 2).

  [126] _dad;_] _dad,_ Ff. _dad?_ Farmer conj.

  [127] _goodman Drivel_] Rowe (ed. 2). _good man diuell_ F1. _good man
  Direll_ F2. _good man Devil_ F3 F4. _goodman Mean-evil_ Johnson conj.
  _good Mean-evil_ Mason conj. _goodman Civil,_ or _good man, be civil_
  Anon. conj.


SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _garden_.

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.

    _Seb._ This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
    This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;
    And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
    Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?
    I could not find him at the Elephant:                              5
    Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,
    That he did range the town to seek me out.
    His counsel now might do me golden service;
    For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
    That this may be some error, but no madness,                      10
    Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
    So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
    That I am ready to distrust mine eyes
    And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
    To any other trust but that I am mad,                             15
    Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
    She could not sway her house, command her followers,
    Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
    With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing
    As I perceive she does: there's something in't                    20
    That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.

_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ Priest.

    _Oli._ Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
    Now go with me and with this holy man
    Into the chantry by: there, before him,
    And underneath that consecrated roof,                             25
    Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
    That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
    May live at peace. He shall conceal it
    Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
    What time we will our celebration keep                            30
    According to my birth. What do you say?

    _Seb._ I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
    And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.

    _Oliv._ Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,
    That they may fairly note this act of mine!       [_Exeunt._      35


LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE V. Pope.

  OLIVIA'S garden.] Capell. Another apartment in O.'s house. Theobald.

  [6] _this credit_] _in credit_ Becket conj. _this credit_ [He takes a
  letter from his pocket] Jackson conj.

  _credit_] F3 F4. _credite_ F1 F2. _credent_ Theobald conj. _current_
  Hanmer. _credited_ Mason conj.

  [15] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [18] _affairs and their dispatch_] _and thus dispatch affairs_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  [21] _the lady comes_] _she comes_ Pope. _comes the lady_ Steevens.

  [27] _jealous_] _iealious_ F1.

  [28] _live_] _henceforth live_ Hanmer.

  [29] _Whiles_] _While_ Grant White.

  [34] _and heavens_] F1 F2. _and heaven_ F3 F4. _heav'ns_ Pope.

  [35] [Exeunt.] Exeunt. Finis Actus Quartus. F1. Finis actus Quarti. F2
  F3 F4.




ACT V.

SCENE I. _Before_ OLIVIA'S _house_.


_Enter_ Clown _and_ FABIAN.

    _Fab._ Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.

    _Clo._ Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.

    _Fab._ Any thing.

    _Clo._ Do not desire to see this letter.

    _Fab._ This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire            5
    my dog again.

_Enter_ DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, _and_ Lords.

    _Duke._ Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?

    _Clo._ Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.

    _Duke._ I know thee well: how dost thou, my good fellow?

    _Clo._ Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse           10
    for my friends.

    _Duke._ Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

    _Clo._ No, sir, the worse.

    _Duke._ How can that be?

    _Clo._ Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of              15
    me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by
    my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by
    my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses,
    if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then,
    the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.             20

    _Duke._ Why, this is excellent.

    _Clo._ By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be
    one of my friends.

    _Duke._ Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold.

    _Clo._ But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would          25
    you could make it another.

    _Duke._ O, you give me ill counsel.

    _Clo._ Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,
    and let your flesh and blood obey it.

    _Duke._ Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer:  30
    there's another.

    _Clo._ Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old
    saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good
    tripping measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put
    you in mind; one, two, three.                                     35

    _Duke._ You can fool no more money out of me at this
    throw: if you will let your lady know I am here to speak
    with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my
    bounty further.

    _Clo._ Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again.      40
    I go, sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire
    of having is the sin of covetousness: but, as you say, sir, let
    your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.       [_Exit._

    _Vio._ Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.

_Enter_ ANTONIO _and_ Officers.

    _Duke._ That face of his I do remember well;                      45
    Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
    As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war:
    A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
    For shallow draught and bulk unprizable;
    With which such scathful grapple did he make                      50
    With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
    That very envy and the tongue of loss
    Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?

    _First Off._ Orsino, this is that Antonio
    That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;                 55
    And this is he that did the Tiger board,
    When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
    Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
    In private brabble did we apprehend him.

    _Vio._ He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;                  60
    But in conclusion put strange speech upon me:
    I know not what 'twas but distraction.

    _Duke._ Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
    What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
    Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,                        65
    Hast made thine enemies?

    _Ant._                     Orsino, noble sir,
    Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:
    Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
    Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
    Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:                      70
    That most ingrateful boy there by your side,
    From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
    Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
    His life I gave him and did thereto add
    My love, without retention or restraint,                          75
    All his in dedication; for his sake
    Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
    Into the danger of this adverse town;
    Drew to defend him when he was beset:
    Where being apprehended, his false cunning,                       80
    Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
    Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
    And grew a twenty years removed thing
    While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
    Which I had recommended to his use                                85
    Not half an hour before.

    _Vio._                     How can this be?

    _Duke._ When came he to this town?

    _Ant._ Today, my lord; and for three months before,
    No interim, not a minute's vacancy,
    Both day and night did we keep company.                           90

_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ Attendants.

    _Duke._ Here comes the countess: now heaven walks on earth.
    But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are madness:
    Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
    But more of that anon. Take him aside.

    _Oli._ What would my lord, but that he may not have,              95
    Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
    Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

    _Vio._ Madam!

    _Duke._ Gracious Olivia,--

    _Oli._ What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,--                 100

    _Vio._ My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.

    _Oli._ If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
    It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
    As howling after music.

    _Duke._                   Still so cruel?

    _Oli._ Still so constant, lord.                                  105

    _Duke._ What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,
    To whom ingrate and unauspicious altars
    My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
    That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

    _Oli._ Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.       110

    _Duke._ Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
    Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
    Kill what I love?--a savage jealousy
    That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:
    Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,                       115
    And that I partly know the instrument
    That screws me from my true place in your favour,
    Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
    But this your minion, whom I know you love,
    And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,                    120
    Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
    Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
    Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
    I 'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
    To spite a raven's heart within a dove.                          125

    _Vio._ And I, most jocund, apt and willingly,
    To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

    _Oli._ Where goes Cesario?

    _Vio._                     After him I love
    More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
    More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.                 130
    If I do feign, you witnesses above
    Punish my life for tainting of my love!

    _Oli._ Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled!

    _Vio._ Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

    _Oli._ Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?                  135
    Call forth the holy father.

    _Duke._                       Come, away!

    _Oli._ Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.

    _Duke._ Husband!

    _Oli._           Ay, husband: can he that deny?

    _Duke._ Her husband, sirrah!

    _Vio._                       No, my lord, not I.

    _Oli._ Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear                      140
    That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
    Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;
    Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
    As great as that thou fear'st.

_Enter_ Priest.

                                 O, welcome, father!
    Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,                         145
    Here to unfold, though lately we intended
    To keep in darkness what occasion now
    Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know
    Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.

    _Priest._ A contract of eternal bond of love,                    150
    Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
    Attested by the holy close of lips,
    Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
    And all the ceremony of this compact
    Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:                          155
    Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
    I have travell'd but two hours.

    _Duke._ O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
    When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
    Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,                      160
    That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
    Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
    Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

    _Vio._ My lord, I do protest--

    _Oli._                         O, do not swear!
    Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.               165

_Enter_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir And._ For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one
    presently to Sir Toby.

    _Oli._ What's the matter?

    _Sir And._ He has broke my head across and has given
    Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your         170
    help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.

    _Oli._ Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

    _Sir And._ The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took
    him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.

    _Duke._ My gentleman, Cesario?                                   175

    _Sir And._ 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my
    head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't
    by Sir Toby.

    _Vio._ Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:
    You drew your sword upon me without cause;                       180
    But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.

    _Sir And._ If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have
    hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

_Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ Clown.

    Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more: but if
    he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates   185
    than he did.

    _Duke._ How now, gentleman! how is't with you?

    _Sir To._ That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the
    end on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?

    _Clo._ O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes          190
    were set at eight i' the morning.

    _Sir To._ Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures panyn:
    I hate a drunken rogue.

    _Oli._ Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with
    them?                                                            195

    _Sir And._ I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be
    dressed together.

    _Sir To._ Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb
    and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull!

    _Oli._ Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.            200
    [_Exeunt Clown_, _Fabian_, _Sir Toby_, _and Sir Andrew_.

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.

    _Seb._ I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;
    But, had it been the brother of my blood,
    I must have done no less with wit and safety.
    You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
    I do perceive it hath offended you:                              205
    Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
    We made each other but so late ago.

    _Duke._ One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
    A natural perspective, that is and is not!

    _Seb._ Antonio, O my dear Antonio!                               210
    How have the hours rack'd and tortured me,
    Since I have lost thee!

    _Ant._ Sebastian are you?

    _Seb._                    Fear'st thou that, Antonio?

    _Ant._ How have you made division of yourself?
    An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin                         215
    Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

    _Oli._ Most wonderful!

    _Seb._ Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
    Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
    Of here and every where. I had a sister,                         220
    Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
    Of charity, what kin are you to me?
    What countryman? what name? what parentage?

    _Vio._ Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
    Such a Sebastian was my brother too,                             225
    So went he suited to his watery tomb:
    If spirits can assume both form and suit
    You come to fright us.

    _Seb._                   A spirit I am indeed;
    But am in that dimension grossly clad
    Which from the womb I did participate.                           230
    Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
    I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
    And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!'

    _Vio._ My father had a mole upon his brow.

    _Seb._ And so had mine.                                          235

    _Vio._ And died that day when Viola from her birth
    Had number'd thirteen years.

    _Seb._ O, that record is lively in my soul!
    He finished indeed his mortal act
    That day that made my sister thirteen years.                     240

    _Vio._ If nothing lets to make us happy both
    But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
    Do not embrace me till each circumstance
    Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
    That I am Viola: which to confirm,                               245
    I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
    Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
    I was preserved to serve this noble count.
    All the occurrence of my fortune since
    Hath been between this lady and this lord.                       250

    _Seb._ [_To Olivia_] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:
    But nature to her bias drew in that.
    You would have been contracted to a maid;
    Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,
    You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.                        255

    _Duke._ Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
    If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
    I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
    [_To Viola_] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
    Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.                       260

    _Vio._ And all those sayings will I over-swear;
    And all those swearings keep as true in soul
    As doth that orbed continent the fire
    That severs day from night.

    _Duke._                       Give me thy hand;
    And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.                        265

    _Vio._ The captain that did bring me first on shore
    Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action
    Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
    A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

    _Oli._ He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither:              270
    And yet, alas, now I remember me,
    They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

_Re-enter_ Clown _with a letter, and_ FABIAN.

    A most extracting frenzy of mine own
    From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
    How does he, sirrah?                                             275

    _Clo._ Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's
    end as well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a
    letter to you; I should have given 't you to-day morning,
    but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not
    much when they are delivered.                                    280

    _Oli._ Open 't, and read it.

    _Clo._ Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers
    the madman. [_Reads_] By the Lord, madam,--

    _Oli._ How now! art thou mad?

    _Clo._ No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship        285
    will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox.

    _Oli._ Prithee, read i' thy right wits.

    _Clo._ So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to
    read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.

    _Oli._ Read it you, sirrah.                    [_To Fabian._     290


  _Fab._ [_Reads_] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and
  the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness and
  given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my
  senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced
  me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do   295
  myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please.
  I leave my duty a little unthought of and speak out of my injury.

    THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO.

    _Oli._ Did he write this?

    _Clo._ Ay, madam.                                                300

    _Duke._ This savours not much of distraction.

    _Oli._ See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
                                                 [_Exit Fabian._

    My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
    To think me as well a sister as a wife,
    One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,            305
    Here at my house and at my proper cost.

    _Duke._ Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.
    [_To Viola_] Your master quits you; and for your service done him,
    So much against the mettle of your sex,
    So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,                    310
    And since you call'd me master for so long,
    Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
    Your master's mistress.

    _Oli._                 A sister! you are she.

_Re-enter_ FABIAN, _with_ MALVOLIO.

    _Duke._ Is this the madman?

    _Oli._                       Ay, my lord, this same.
    How now, Malvolio!

    _Mal._            Madam, you have done me wrong,                 315
    Notorious wrong.

    _Oli._          Have I, Malvolio? no.

    _Mal._ Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter.
    You must not now deny it is your hand:
    Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase;
    Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention:                   320
    You can say none of this: well, grant it then
    And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
    Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,
    Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
    To put on yellow stockings and to frown                          325
    Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
    And, acting this in an obedient hope,
    Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
    Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
    And made the most notorious geek and gull                        330
    That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.

    _Oli._ Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
    Though, I confess, much like the character:
    But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.
    And now I do bethink me, it was she                              335
    First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling,
    And in such forms which here were presupposed
    Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content:
    This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
    But when we know the grounds and authors of it,                  340
    Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
    Of thine own cause.

    _Fab._             Good madam, hear me speak,
    And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
    Taint the condition of this present hour,
    Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,                  345
    Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
    Set this device against Malvolio here,
    Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
    We had conceived against him: Maria writ
    The letter at Sir Toby's great importance;                       350
    In recompense whereof he hath married her.
    How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
    May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
    If that the injuries be justly weigh'd
    That have on both sides pass'd.                                  355


    _Oli._ Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!

    _Clo._ Why, 'some are born great, some achieve greatness,
    and some have greatness thrown upon them.' I was
    one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all
    one. 'By the Lord, fool, I am not mad.' But do you remember?     360
    'Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal?
    an you smile not, he's gagged:' and thus the whirligig of
    time brings in his revenges.

    _Mal._ I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.   [_Exit._

    _Oli._ He hath been most notoriously abused.                     365

    _Duke._ Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:
    He hath not told us of the captain yet:
    When that is known, and golden time convents,
    A solemn combination shall be made
    Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,                       370
    We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;
    For so you shall be, while you are a man;
    But when in other habits you are seen,
    Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.
                                    [_Exeunt all, except Clown._

    _Clo._ [_Sings_]

    When that I was and a little tiny boy,                           375
    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
    A foolish thing was but a toy,
    For the rain it raineth every day.

    But when I came to man's estate,
    With hey, ho, &c.                                                380
    'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
    For the rain, &c.
    But when I came, alas! to wive,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    By swaggering could I never thrive,                              385
    For the rain, &c.

    But when I came unto my beds,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
    For the rain, &c.                                                390

    A great while ago the world begun,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    But that's all one, our play is done,
    And we'll strive to please you every day.           [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  Before OLIVIA'S house] Capell. The street. Pope.

  [1] _his_] F1. _this_ F2 F3 F4.

  [6] Lords.] Attendants. Capell.

  [18] _that, conclusions ... kisses_] _that, conclusion to be asked,
  is_ Theobald (Warburton). _the conclusion to be asked is_ Hanmer.
  _that conclusions follow as kisses_ Heath conj. See note (XIV).

  [20] _for my friends_] _of my friends_ F3 F4.

  [33] _triplex_] _triplet_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [34] _or_] _as_ Mason conj.

  _Bennet_] _Bennet's_ Anon. conj.

  [44] SCENE II. Pope.

  [Enter A....] Ff (after line 43).

  [60] _did_] _shew'd_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [66] _Orsino, noble sir_] _Noble sir, Orsino_ Hanmer.

  [71] _ingrateful_] _ungrateful_ F4.

  [73] _wreck_] Pope. _wracke_ F1 F2. _wrack_ F3 F4.

  [76] _his_] F1. _this_ F2 F3 F4.

  _in_] _is_ F3 F4.

  [77] _for_] _of_ F3 F4.

  [84] _me_] _be_ F3 F4.

  [87] _he_] _you_ Hanmer.

  [89] interim] _intrim_ F1.

  [91] SCENE III. Pope.

  Enter O....] Ff. Dyce, after line 94.

  [97] _do not_] _don't_ Hanmer.

  [99] _Olivia_,--] Theobald. _Olivia._ Ff.

  [100] _lord_,--] Pope. _lord._ Ff.

  [103] _fat_] _flat_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [104] _Still_] _Still, still_ Capell.

  [105] _so constant, lord_] _lord, so constant_ Hanmer.

  [108] _hath_] Capell. _have_ Ff. _has_ Pope.

  [111] _do it_] _do't_ Pope.

  [114] _me_] om. Pope.

  [125] [Going. Theobald.

  [127] [Following. Theobald.

  [133] _Ay_] F4. _Aye_ F1 F2 F3. _Ah_ Hanmer.

  [136] [Exit an Attendant. Capell.

  [To Viola. Theobald.

  [144] _that thou_] _thou_ F3 F4.

  Enter Priest.] Ff. Re-enter Attendant, with Priest. Capell.

  [150] _of eternal_] _and eternal_ Collier (Malone conj. withdrawn).

  [159] _on thy case_] _on thy face_ Madden conj. _upon thee_ Keightley
  conj. See note (XV).

  [164] _protest--_] Rowe. _protest_ Ff.

  [165] _Hold_] F1. _How_ F2 F3 F4.

  Enter Sir A.] Ff. Enter Sir A. with his head broke. Rowe.

  [166] SCENE IV. Pope.

  _Send_] F1 F2. _and_ F3 F4. _and send_ Rowe (ed. 2).]

  [169] _He has_] _H'as_ Ff.

  _has given_] F1 F2. _given_ F3 F4. _h'as given_ Capell.

  [174] _incardinate_] _incarnate_ Rowe.

  [183] Enter Sir Toby....] Enter Toby.... Ff (after line 181). Enter
  Sir T. drunk, led by the Clown. Capell.

  [185, 186] _othergates_] _other gates_ Ff.

  [188] _has_] Ff. _h'as_ Rowe (ed. 1). _ha's_ Id. (ed. 2). _he has_
  Pope.

  [188, 189] _the end_] _th'end_ F1 F2. _an end_ F3 F4.

  [189] _didst_] _didst thou_ F3 F4.

  [190] _Sir Toby_] F1. _sir above_ F2 F3 F4. _Sir Toby, above_
  Theobald.

  [191] _set at_] F1 F2. _at_ F3 F4.

  [192] _rogue, and a passy measures panyn:_] F1. _Rogue after a passy
  measures Pavin:_ F2 F3 F4. _rogue, and a past-measure painim._ Pope.
  _rogue, and a passy-measure pavin:_ Steevens. _rogue:--and after a
  passy-measure or a pavin,_ Rann. _rogue. After a passy-measure, or a
  pavin,_ Reed (Tyrwhitt conj.). _rogue and a pazzomezzo paynim_ Becket
  conj. _rogue and a passy measures paynim:_ Grant White. _rogue. After
  a passing measure and a pavin_ Anon. conj. (Gent. Mag.).

  [198, 199] _help? an ass-head ... gull!_] Malone. _help an ass-head
  ... gull?_ Ff.

  [200] [Exeunt...] Dyce and Staunton. Exe. Clo. To. & And. Rowe. Exeunt
  Clown and some Attendants, with Sir T. and Sir A. Capell.

  [201] SCENE V. Pope.

  _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [203] [All stand in amaze. Theobald.

  [204] _You throw a strange_] _You throw A strange_ S. Walker conj.

  _upon_] _on_ Pope.

  _upon me, and by that_] _on me, by that_ Lettsom conj.

  _and by that_] _by which_ Pope. _and By that_ Capell.

  [209] _natural_] _nat'ral_ Pope.

  [213] _Fear'st thou_] Ff. _Fear'd thou_ Rowe (ed. 2). _Fear'd you_
  Pope.

  [219] _that_] F1. _a_ F2 F3 F4.

  [222] [To Viola. Rowe.

  [224] _Messaline_] _Metelin_ Hanmer.

  [231] _goes_] F1. _goe_ F2. _go_ F3 F4.

  [233] _And_] _As_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [246] _captain_] _captain's_ Grant White (Collier MS.).

  [247] _maiden_] _maids_ Theobald.

  _by whose_] _he, by whose_ Staunton conj.

  [248] _preserved_] _preferr'd_ Theobald.

  _count_] _Duke_ Rowe.

  [249] _occurrence_] _occurrents_ Hanmer.

  [250] _Hath_] _Have_ Hanmer.

  [251] [To Olivia.] Rowe.

  [252] _drew_] _true_ Collier MS.

  [258] _wreck_] Rowe. _wracke_ F1 F2. _wrack_ F3 F4.

  [260] _shouldst_] _shoulst_ F2.

  [263, 264] _fire ... severs_] _fires ... sever_ Singer.

  [272] Re-enter....] Enter.... Ff.

  and FABIAN.] om. Capell.

  [273] SCENE VI. Pope.

  _extracting_] F1. _exacting_ F2 F3 F4. _distracting_ Hanmer.

  [274] _banish'd_] _banisht_ F1. _banish_ F2 F3 F4.

  [277] _has_] _h'as_ Rowe. _he has_ Malone.

  [281] _Open 't_] _Open it_ Malone.

  [283] [Reads] Rowe.

  [284] _art thou_] _art_ Pope.

  [285] _an_] Pope. _and_ Ff.

  [286] _Vox_] _for't_ Heath conj. _oaths_ Mason conj.

  [287] _read_] _read it_ F3 F4.

  _right wits_] _wits right_ Johnson conj.

  [290] [To Fabian.] Rowe.

  [291] [Reads] Ff.

  [Sidenote 293] _cousin_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _the benefit_] _benefit_ Rowe, F3 F4.

  [302] [Exit Fabian.] Capell.

  [305] _on't, so_] _an't so_ Heath conj. _and, so_ Collier (Collier
  MS.).

  [308] [To Viola] Rowe.

  [309] _mettle_] Ff. _metal_ Rowe.

  [313] _mistress._ Oli. _A ... she_] _mistress, and his sister she_
  Hanmer.

  Re-enter F. with M.] Capell. Enter M. Ff. Enter M. with straw about
  him, as from prison. Collier MS.

  [314] SCENE VII. Pope.

  [315] _you have_] _you've_ S. Walker conj.

  [320] _seal, not_] _seal, nor_ F4.

  [330] _and gull_] F1. _or gull_ F2 F3 F4.

  [336] _then_] _thou_ Rann.

  _camest in_] _cam'st thou_ Theobald.

  [337] _presupposed_] _preimpos'd_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [342] _hear_] _here_ F2.

  [346] _confess, myself_] Theobald. _confess myself,_ Ff.

  _Toby_] _Sir Toby_ Theobald.

  [349] _against_] _in_ Rann (Tyrwhitt conj.).

  [355, 356] S. Walker would end line 355 at _fool_.

  [356] _fool_] _Foole_ F1 F2 F3. _Fool_ F4. _soul_ Collier (Collier
  MS.). _tool_ Anon. conj.

  _thee!_] Capell. _thee?_ Ff.

  [358] _thrown_] _thrust_ Theobald.

  [360, 361] _remember? 'Madam, why_] Malone (Tyrwhitt conj.).
  _remember, Madam, why_ Ff. _remember, Madam,--'why_ Theobald.

  [362] _an_] Pope. _and_ Ff.

  _whirligig_] Capell. _whirlegigge_ F1. _whirle-gigge_ F2 F3.
  _whirl-gigg_ F4.

  [364] [Exit.] Rowe.

  [368] _convents_] _consents_ Steevens conj. _convenes_ Anon. MS. apud
  Halliwell.

  [370] _Meantime_] _In the mean time_ Hanmer.

  [374] [Exeunt...] Dyce and Staunton. Exeunt. Ff.

  [375-394] Farmer would omit as spurious.

  [375] _and_] _an_ Theobald.

  _tiny_] Rowe (ed. 2). _tine_ Ff.

  [381] _knaves and thieves_] _knave and thief_ Steevens (Farmer conj.).

  [387-389] _beds ... heads_] Ff. _bed ... head_ Hanmer.

  [389] _toss-pots_] _tospottes_ F1.

  _still had_] _I had_ Hanmer. _still I had_ Collier.

  _drunken_] _broken_ Anon. conj.

  [391] _begun_] Rowe. _begon_ F1 F2. _be gon_ F3. _be gone_ F4.

  [392] _With hey, ho_] F2 F3 F4. _hey, ho_ F1.

  [394] [Exit.] Rowe. om. Ff.




NOTES.


NOTE I.

In our enumeration of the Dramatis Personæ we have omitted what Johnson
calls 'the cant of the modern stage,' i.e. the unnecessary descriptions
given by Rowe.


NOTE II.

I. I. 26. Mr Knight reads 'years' heat,' but follows Malone in
interpreting 'heat' as a participle. It is more probably a substantive.


NOTE III.

I. 3. 48. Sidney Walker supposed that as the first Folio has no stop
after 'acquaintance' it was intended that the sentence should be
regarded as incomplete, and he therefore would read 'acquaintance--'.
The real reason of the omission of the stop in F1 is that the word
occurs so near the end of the line that there was no room for its
insertion. It is found in all the other Folios.


NOTE IV.

I. 5. 192. Mr Dyce conjectures that something more than the speaker's
name has been omitted in the Folios before 'Tell me your mind.' Capell
proposed to omit these words, on the ground that, in addition to other
objections against them, they cause the speech to end metrically. We
leave the text undisturbed, because we think that there is some
corruption which Hanmer's plausible emendation does not remove.


NOTE V.

I. 5. 237. Sidney Walker conjectures that 'a word or words are lost
before _adorations_, involving the same metaphor as the rest of the two
lines.' Perhaps the lost word may have been 'earthward' or 'earthly,' so
that all the four elements 'of which our life consists' (II. 3. 9) would
be represented in the symptoms of Orsino's passion.


NOTE VI.

II. 2. 30. Johnson would transpose lines 28 and 29, and retain the
reading of the Folios 'if':

    'For such as we are made, if such we be,
    Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we.'


NOTE VII.

II. 3. 33. The first Folio reads simply 'give a' without any stop at
all, perhaps as before, because there was no room to insert it. More
probably however a line has been omitted. The other Folios have 'give
a--'. Mr Singer suggests that the hiatus may either have been
intentional, or may have been filled up with the words 'another should.'
Mr Collier's MS. corrector inserts a whole clause; reading, 'if one
knight give a-way sixpence, so will I give another: go to.'


NOTE VIII.

II. 3. 97, 99, 101, 102. These lines are printed in the Folios in Roman
type, while all the other songs and snatches of songs in the scene are
in italics. It is evident, however, that they are intended to be sung.


NOTE IX.

II. 4. 17. Warburton says, 'The Folio reads _notions_, which is right.'
This is incorrect: all the Folios have 'motions.'


NOTE X.

II. 5. 129. The first Folio here reads 'atcheeues,' but as it has
'atcheeue' in III. 4. 41, and 'atchieue' in V. 1. 357, it is plain that
the first is a mere misprint. In many other passages, doubtless, the
incorrect grammar found in the oldest editions is due to the printer,
not to the author.


NOTE XI.

III. 4. 110. Mr Ritson suggested that 'Ay, Biddy, come with me,' is a
fragment of an old song, and should be printed as such.


NOTE XII.

III. 4. 260. Mr Dyce and Mr Staunton make Scene V. to commence here in
'The street adjoining Olivia's garden.' The fourth scene is continued in
the Folios, and, as in all other instances throughout the play, the
beginning of each scene is accurately marked, we have thought it better
to follow them in this. According to the Folios, Fabian and Viola leave
the stage just as Sir Toby and Sir Andrew enter, and, not meeting them,
may be supposed to return to the place appointed in lines 239, 240.
Capell, contrary to the directions in the Folios, keeps Fabian and Viola
on the stage. They are indeed all the while within sight of Sir Toby, as
appears from lines 268, 269, but not necessarily visible to the
audience. The comic effect would, no doubt, be heightened if Fabian were
seen using all his efforts to prevent Viola from running away, but this
is scarcely a sufficient reason for deserting our only authority.


NOTE XIII.

IV. 1. 13. Mr Knight suggests that this may be intended to be spoken
aside, as if the meaning were, 'I am afraid the world will prove this
great lubber (Sebastian) a cockney.'


NOTE XIV.

V. 1. 18. The meaning seems to be nothing more recondite than this: as
in the syllogism it takes two premisses to make one conclusion, so it
takes two people to make one kiss.


NOTE XV.

V. 1. 159. In Mr Foss's copy of the first Folio, Sir Frederic Madden
says the reading is 'cafe' instead of 'case,' and this leads him to
conjecture that 'face' is the true reading. But in Capell's copy the
reading is plainly 'case,' and as there is abundant authority to prove
that 'case' was a sportsman's term for the skin of an animal, we retain
it.




THE WINTER'S TALE.




DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[10].


    LEONTES, king of Sicilia.
    MAMILLIUS[11], young prince of Sicilia.
    CAMILLO,   }
    ANTIGONUS, } Four Lords of Sicilia.
    CLEOMENES, }
    DION,      }
    POLIXENES, king of Bohemia[12].
    FLORIZEL, prince of Bohemia[12].
    ARCHIDAMUS, a Lord of Bohemia[12].
    Old Shepherd, reputed father of Perdita.
    Clown, his son.
    AUTOLYCUS, a rogue.
    A Mariner[13].
    A Gaoler[13].

    HERMIONE, queen to Leontes.
    PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione.
    PAULINA, wife to Antigonus.
    EMILIA, a lady attending on Hermione[14].
    MOPSA[13], }
    DORCAS[13],} Shepherdesses.

    Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies[13], Officers[13], and Servants,
    Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.

    Time[13], as Chorus[13].

    SCENE: _Partly in Sicilia, and partly in Bohemia_[15].

FOOTNOTES:

  [10] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. Given imperfectly as 'The Names of the Actors'
  in Ff.

  [11] MAMILLIUS] Mamillus. Rowe (ed. 2).

  [12] Bohemia] Bithynia. Hanmer.

  [13] Words and clauses omitted in Ff.

  [14] a lady ... Hermione.] Rowe. a Lady. Ff.

  [15] SCENE...] Rowe. om. Ff.




THE WINTER'S TALE.




ACT I.

SCENE I. _Antechamber in_ LEONTES' _palace_.


_Enter_ CAMILLO _and_ ARCHIDAMUS.

    _Arch._ If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia,
    on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot,
    you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our
    Bohemia and your Sicilia.

    _Cam._ I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia            5
    means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes
    him.

    _Arch._ Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we
    will be justified in our loves; for indeed--

    _Cam._ Beseech you,--                                             10

    _Arch._ Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge:
    we cannot with such magnificence--in so rare--I
    know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks,
    that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may,
    though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.                15

    _Cam._ You pay a great deal too dear for what's given
    freely.

    _Arch._ Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs
    me and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

    _Cam._ Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia.          20
    They were trained together in their childhoods; and there
    rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot
    choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities
    and royal necessities made separation of their society,
    their encounters, though not personal, have been royally          25
    attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies;
    that they have seemed to be together, though absent;
    shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were, from
    the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their
    loves!                                                            30

    _Arch._ I think there is not in the world either malice
    or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of
    your young prince Mamillius: it is a gentleman of the greatest
    promise that ever came into my note.

    _Cam._ I very well agree with you in the hopes of him:            35
    it is a gallant child; one that indeed physics the subject,
    makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he
    was born desire yet their life to see him a man.

    _Arch._ Would they else be content to die?

    _Cam._ Yes; if there were no other excuse why they                40
    should desire to live.

    _Arch._ If the king had no son, they would desire to
    live on crutches till he had one.                 [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. Antechamber....] Theobald. A Palace. Rowe.

  [1] _Bohemia_] _Bithynia_ Hanmer (and throughout).

  [5] _coming_] _comming_ F1. _common_ F2 F3 F4.

  [8] _us_] _us_, Theobald, _us_; Ff.

  [11] _Verily_] F3 F4. _Verely_ F1 F2.

  [25] _have_] F2 F3 F4. _hath_ F1.

  _royally_] _so royally_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [26] _gifts_] F1 F3 F4. _gift_ F2.

  [28] _vast_] F1. _vast sea_ F2 F3 F4.

  [30] _loves_] _love_ Hanmer.

  [33] _Mamillius_] _Mamillus_ Rowe (ed. 2).


SCENE II. _A room of state in the same._

    _Enter_ LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, POLIXENES, CAMILLO,
    _and_ Attendants.

    _Pol._ Nine changes of the watery star hath been
    The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
    Without a burthen: time as long again
    Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
    And yet we should, for perpetuity,                                 5
    Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
    Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
    With one 'We thank you,' many thousands moe
    That go before it.

    _Leon._            Stay your thanks a while;
    And pay them when you part.

    _Pol._                      Sir, that's to-morrow.                10
    I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance
    Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
    No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
    'This is put forth too truly:' besides, I have stay'd
    To tire your royalty.

    _Leon._               We are tougher, brother,                    15
    Than you can put us to't.

    _Pol._                    No longer stay.

    _Leon._ One seven-night longer.

    _Pol._                          Very sooth, to-morrow.

    _Leon._ We'll part the time between's, then: and in that
    I'll no gainsaying.

    _Pol._              Press me not, beseech you, so.
    There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world,           20
    So soon as yours could win me: so it should now,
    Were there necessity in your request, although
    'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
    Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
    Were in your love a whip to me; my stay                           25
    To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
    Farewell, our brother.

    _Leon._                Tongue-tied our queen? speak you.

    _Her._ I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until
    You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
    Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure                     30
    All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction
    The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him,
    He's beat from his best ward.

    _Leon._                       Well said, Hermione.

    _Her._ To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
    But let him say so then, and let him go;                          35
    But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
    We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
    Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure
    The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
    You take my lord, I'll give him my commission                     40
    To let him there a month behind the gest
    Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
    I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
    What lady she her lord. You 'll stay?

    _Pol._                                No, madam.

    _Her._ Nay, but you will?

    _Pol._                    I may not, verily.                      45

    _Her._ Verily!
    You put me off with limber vows; but I,
    Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths,
    Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily,
    You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily''s                             50
    As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
    Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
    Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees
    When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
    My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,'                 55
    One of them you shall be.

    _Pol._                   Your guest, then, madam:
    To be your prisoner should import offending;
    Which is for me less easy to commit
    Than you to punish.

    _Her._              Not your gaoler, then,
    But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you                    60
    Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys:
    You were pretty lordings then?

    _Pol._                        We were, fair queen,
    Two lads that thought there was no more behind
    But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
    And to be boy eternal.

    _Her._                Was not my lord                             65
    The verier wag o' the two?

    _Pol._ We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun,
    And bleat the one at the other: what we changed
    Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
    The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd                            70
    That any did. Had we pursued that life,
    And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
    With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
    Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd
    Hereditary ours.

    _Her._           By this we gather                                75
    You have tripp'd since.

    _Pol._                 O my most sacred lady!
    Temptations have since then been born to's: for
    In those unfledged days was my wife a girl;
    Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
    Of my young play-fellow.

    _Her._                  Grace to boot!                            80
    Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
    Your queen and I are devils: yet go on;
    The offences we have made you do we'll answer,
    If you first sinn'd with us and that with us
    You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not                   85
    With any but with us.

    _Leon._              Is he won yet?

    _Her._ He'll stay, my lord.

    _Leon._                     At my request he would not.
    Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest
    To better purpose.

    _Her._           Never?

    _Leon._                 Never, but once.

    _Her._ What! have I twice said well? when was't before?           90
    I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's
    As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless
    Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
    Our praises are our wages: you may ride's
    With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere                        95
    With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal:
    My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
    What was my first? it has an elder sister,
    Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
    But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?                    100
    Nay, let me have't; I long.

    _Leon._                    Why, that was when
    Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,
    Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
    And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter
    'I am yours for ever.'

    _Her._                'Tis Grace indeed.                         105
    Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice:
    The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
    The other for some while a friend.

    _Leon._             [_Aside_] Too hot, too hot!
    To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
    I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances;                     110
    But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment
    May a free face put on, derive a liberty
    From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
    And well become the agent; 't may, I grant;
    But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,                   115
    As now they are, and making practised smiles,
    As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere
    The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
    My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius,
    Art thou my boy?

    _Mam._          Ay, my good lord.

    _Leon._                          I' fecks!                       120
    Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose?
    They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
    We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
    And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf
    Are all call'd neat.--Still virginalling                         125
    Upon his palm!--How now, you wanton calf!
    Art thou my calf?

    _Mam._             Yes, if you will, my lord.

    _Leon._ Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have.
    To be full like me: yet they say we are
    Almost as like as eggs; women say so,                            130
    That will say any thing: but were they false
    As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
    As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
    No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
    To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,                    135
    Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
    Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?--may't be?--
    Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
    Thou dost make possible things not so held,
    Communicatest with dreams;--how can this be?--                   140
    With what's unreal them coactive art,
    And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent
    Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost,
    And that beyond commission, and I find it,
    And that to the infection of my brains                           145
    And hardening of my brows.

    _Pol._                    What means Sicilia?

    _Her._ He something seems unsettled.

    _Pol._                             How, my lord!
    What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?

    _Her._                                      You look
    As if you held a brow of much distraction:
    Are you moved, my lord?

    _Leon._                 No, in good earnest.                     150
    How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
    Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
    To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
    Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil
    Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,                   155
    In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled,
    Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
    As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
    How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
    This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,                 160
    Will you take eggs for money?

    _Mam._ No, my lord, I'll fight.

    _Leon._ You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother,
    Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
    Do seem to be of ours?

    _Pol._               If at home, sir,                            165
    He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
    Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
    My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
    He makes a July's day short as December;
    And with his varying childness cures in me                       170
    Thoughts that would thick my blood.

    _Leon._                             So stands this squire
    Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord,
    And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
    How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome;
    Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:                             175
    Next to thyself and my young rover, he's
    Apparent to my heart.

    _Her._               If you would seek us,
    We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there?

    _Leon._ To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,
    Be you beneath the sky. [_Aside_] I am angling now,              180
    Though you perceive me not how I give line.
    Go to, go to!
    How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
    And arms her with the boldness of a wife
    To her allowing husband!
             [_Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants._

                              Gone already!                          185
    Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!
    Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
    Play too; but so disgraced a part, whose issue
    Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
    Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been,          190
    Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;
    And many a man there is, even at this present,
    Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
    That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence
    And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by                    195
    Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't
    Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,
    As mine, against their will. Should all despair
    That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
    Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none;               200
    It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
    Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
    From east, west, north and south: be it concluded,
    No barricado for a belly; know't;
    It will let in and out the enemy                                 205
    With bag and baggage: many thousand on's
    Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!

    _Mam._ I am like you, they say.

    _Leon._                             Why, that's some comfort.
    What, Camillo there?

    _Cam._ Ay, my good lord.                                         210

    _Leon._ Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.
                                              [_Exit Mamillius._

    Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

    _Cam._ You had much ado to make his anchor hold:
    When you cast out, it still came home.

    _Leon._                             Didst note it?

    _Cam._ He would not stay at your petitions; made                 215
    His business more material.

    _Leon._                        Didst perceive it?
    [_Aside_] They're here with me already; whispering, rounding
    'Sicilia is a so-forth:' 'tis far gone,
    When I shall gust it last. How came't, Camillo,
    That he did stay?

    _Cam._              At the good queen's entreaty.                220

    _Leon._ At the queen's be't: 'good' should be pertinent;
    But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken
    By any understanding pate but thine?
    For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
    More than the common blocks: not noted, is't,                    225
    But of the finer natures? by some severals
    Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
    Perchance are to this business purblind? say.

    _Cam._ Business, my lord! I think most understand
    Bohemia stays here longer.

    _Leon._                        Ha!

    _Cam._                         Stays here longer.                230

    _Leon._ Ay, but why?

    _Cam._ To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
    Of our most gracious mistress.

    _Leon._                        Satisfy!
    The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!
    Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,                  235
    With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
    My chamber-councils; wherein, priest-like, thou
    Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
    Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
    Deceived in thy integrity, deceived                              240
    In that which seems so.

    _Cam._                    Be it forbid, my lord!

    _Leon._ To bide upon't, thou art not honest; or,
    If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward,
    Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
    From course required; or else thou must be counted               245
    A servant grafted in my serious trust
    And therein negligent; or else a fool
    That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn,
    And takest it all for jest.

    _Cam._                         My gracious lord,
    I may be negligent, foolish and fearful;                         250
    In every one of these no man is free,
    But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
    Among the infinite doings of the world,
    Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
    If ever I were wilful-negligent,                                 255
    It was my folly; if industriously
    I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
    Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
    To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
    Whereof the execution did cry out                                260
    Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
    Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
    Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
    Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,
    Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass                      265
    By its own visage: if I then deny it,
    'Tis none of mine.

    _Leon._              Ha' not you seen, Camillo,--
    But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass
    Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,--or heard,--
    For to a vision so apparent rumour                               270
    Cannot be mute,--or thought,--for cogitation
    Resides not in that man that does not think,--
    My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
    Or else be impudently negative,
    To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say                  275
    My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a name
    As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
    Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't.

    _Cam._ I would not be a stander-by to hear
    My sovereign mistress clouded so, without                        280
    My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart,
    You never spoke what did become you less
    Than this; which to reiterate were sin
    As deep as that, though true.

    _Leon._                        Is whispering nothing?
    Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?                     285
    Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
    Of laughter with a sigh?--a note infallible
    Of breaking honesty;--horsing foot on foot?
    Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
    Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes                     290
    Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,
    That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
    Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing;
    The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
    My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,             295
    If this be nothing.

    _Cam._                Good my lord, be cured
    Of this diseased opinion, and betimes;
    For 'tis most dangerous.

    _Leon._                   Say it be, 'tis true.

    _Cam._ No, no, my lord.

    _Leon._                   It is; you lie, you lie:
    I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,                      300
    Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
    Or else a hovering temporizer, that
    Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
    Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver
    Infected as her life, she would not live                         305
    The running of one glass.

    _Cam._                    Who does infect her?

    _Leon._ Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
    About his neck, Bohemia: who, if I
    Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
    To see alike mine honour as their profits,                       310
    Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
    Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou,
    His cup-bearer,--whom I from meaner form
    Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see
    Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,              315
    How I am gall'd,--mightst bespice a cup,
    To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
    Which draught to me were cordial.

    _Cam._                              Sir, my lord,
    I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
    But with a lingering dram, that should not work                  320
    Maliciously like poison: but I cannot
    Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
    So sovereignly being honourable.
    I have loved thee,--

    _Leon._                   Make that thy question, and go rot!
    Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,                          325
    To appoint myself in this vexation; sully
    The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
    Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
    Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps;
    Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son,                  330
    Who I do think is mine and love as mine,
    Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
    Could man so blench?

    _Cam._                    I must believe you, sir:
    I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
    Provided that, when he's removed, your highness                  335
    Will take again your queen as yours at first,
    Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing
    The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
    Known and allied to yours.

    _Leon._                   Thou dost advise me
    Even so as I mine own course have set down:                      340
    I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.

    _Cam._ My lord,
    Go then; and with a countenance as clear
    As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
    And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer:                        345
    If from me he have wholesome beverage,
    Account me not your servant.

    _Leon._                        This is all:
    Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart;
    Do't not, thou splitt'st thine own.

    _Cam._                         I'll do't, my lord.

    _Leon._ I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me.           350
                                                        [_Exit._

    _Cam._ O miserable lady! But, for me,
    What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
    Of good Polixenes: and my ground to do't
    Is the obedience to a master, one
    Who, in rebellion with himself, will have                        355
    All that are his so too. To do this deed,
    Promotion follows. If I could find example
    Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
    And flourish'd after, I'ld not do't; but since
    Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one,                 360
    Let villany itself forswear't. I must
    Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain
    To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now!
    Here comes Bohemia.

_Re-enter_ POLIXENES.

    _Pol._                    This is strange: methinks
    My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?                        365
    Good day, Camillo.

    _Cam._                    Hail, most royal sir!

    _Pol._ What is the news i' the court?

    _Cam._                              None rare, my lord.

    _Pol._ The king hath on him such a countenance
    As he had lost some province and a region
    Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him                    370
    With customary compliment; when he,
    Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling
    A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and
    So leaves me, to consider what is breeding
    That changes thus his manners.                                   375

    _Cam._ I dare not know, my lord.

    _Pol._ How! dare not! do not. Do you know, and dare not?
    Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts;
    For, to yourself, what you do know, you must,
    And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,                      380
    Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
    Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
    A party in this alteration, finding
    Myself thus alter'd with't.

    _Cam._                    There is a sickness
    Which puts some of us in distemper; but                          385
    I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
    Of you that yet are well.

    _Pol._                    How! caught of me!
    Make me not sighted like the basilisk:
    I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
    By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,--                     390
    As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto
    Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns
    Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
    In whose success we are gentle,--I beseech you,
    If you know aught which does behove my knowledge                 395
    Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not
    In ignorant concealment.

    _Cam._                    I may not answer.

    _Pol._ A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!
    I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo,
    I conjure thee, by all the parts of man                          400
    Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least
    Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
    What incidency thou dost guess of harm
    Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
    Which way to be prevented, if to be;                             405
    If not, how best to bear it.

    _Cam._                         Sir, I will tell you;
    Since I am charged in honour and by him
    That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel,
    Which must be ev'n as swiftly follow'd as
    I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me                      410
    Cry lost, and so good night!

    _Pol._                         On, good Camillo.

    _Cam._ I am appointed him to murder you.

    _Pol._ By whom, Camillo?

    _Cam._                         By the king.

    _Pol._                         For what?

    _Cam._ He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
    As he had seen't, or been an instrument                          415
    To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen
    Forbiddenly.

    _Pol._ O, then my best blood turn
    To an infected jelly and my name
    Be yoked with his that did betray the Best!
    Turn then my freshest reputation to                              420
    A savour that may strike the dullest nostril
    Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd,
    Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
    That e'er was heard or read!

    _Cam._                        Swear his thought over
    By each particular star in heaven and                            425
    By all their influences, you may as well
    Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,
    As or by oath remove or counsel shake
    The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
    Is piled upon his faith and will continue                        430
    The standing of his body.

    _Pol._                      How should this grow?

    _Cam._ I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to
    Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.
    If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
    That lies enclosed in this trunk which you                       435
    Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night!
    Your followers I will whisper to the business;
    And will by twos and threes at several posterns,
    Clear them o' the city. For myself, I'll put
    My fortunes to your service, which are here                      440
    By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain;
    For, by the honour of my parents, I
    Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove,
    I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
    Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon              445
    His execution sworn.

    _Pol._                    I do believe thee:
    I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand:
    Be pilot to me and thy places shall
    Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and
    My people did expect my hence departure                          450
    Two days ago. This jealousy
    Is for a precious creature: as she's rare,
    Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty,
    Must it be violent; and as he does conceive
    He is dishonour'd by a man which ever                            455
    Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must
    In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me:
    Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
    The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
    Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo;                       460
    I will respect thee as a father if
    Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid.

    _Cam._ It is in mine authority to command
    The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
    To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.         [_Exeunt._     465


LINENOTES:

  SCENE II. A room....] Capell. Scene opens to the Presence. Theobald.

  Camillo] om. Theobald.

  and Attendants] Theobald, om. Ff.

  [1] _hath_] _have_ Capell.

  [1, 2] _been ... note_] _been_ (_The shepherd's note_,) Warburton.

  [8] _moe_] _more_ Rowe.

  [9] _a while_] _awhile_ Reed.

  [11] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [12] _absence_;] _absence_, Ff.

  [12, 13] _that may blow No_] _there may blow Some_ Hanmer. _may there
  blow No_ Warburton.

  [12-14] _that ... truly_:] _that ... truly!_ Steevens (Farmer conj.).

  [14] _truly_] _early_ Hanmer. _tardily_ Capell.

  [17] _seven-night_] _seve'night_ F1 F2 F3. _sev'night_ F4.

  [19] _beseech you, so._] _'beseech you!_ Hanmer. _so, beseech you_:
  Capell.

  [20] _world_] F1 F3 F4. _would_ F2.

  [28] _to have_] _to've_ Pope.

  [29] _You had_] _You 'ad_ Theobald.

  [33] [He walks apart. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [38] [To Polixenes. Rowe.

  [40] _give him_] _give you_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [41] _behind_] _beyond_ Heath conj.

  _gest_] F1 F2. _guest_ F3 F4. _just_ Theobald conj. _geste_ Hanmer.
  _list_ Heath conj.

  [42] _good deed,_] (_good-deed_) F1. (_good-heed_) F2. (_good heed_)
  F3 F4. See note (i).

  [44] _lady she_] _lady should_ Collier (Egerton and Collier MSS.).
  _lady-she_ Staunton.

  [50] _'Verily''s_] Staunton and Grant White. _Verely 'is_ F1 F2.
  _verily is_ F3 F4.

  [65, 66] _Was ... two?_] As in Ff. In one line. Hanmer.

  [70] _nor dream'd_] F1. _no nor dream'd_ F2 F3 F4. _neither dream'd_
  Spedding conj.

  [77] _to's_] _to us_ Capell.

  [80] _Grace_] _Oh! Grace_ Hanmer. _God's grace_ S. Walker conj.

  _boot_] _both_ Heath conj.

  [81] _lest_] F4. _least_ F1 F2 F3.

  [88] _dearest_] _dear'st_ S. Walker conj.

  _never_] _ne'er_ Pope.

  [90] _was't_] _'twas_ Steevens (1778). _was it_ Mason conj.

  [91] _cram's ... make's_] _cram us ... make us_ Capell.

  [96] _heat an acre. But to the goal_;--] _heat an Acre. But to th'
  Goale_: Ff. (_Goal_ F3 F4). _heat an acre, but to th' goal._
  Warburton. _clear an acre. But to the good_: Collier (Collier MS.).

  [100] _spoke_] F1 F2. _spake_ F3 F4.

  _purpose:_] Capell. _purpose?_ Ff.

  [104] _And clap_] F2} F3 F4. _A clap_ F1. _And clepe_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [105] _'Tis_] Ff. _This is_ Hanmer. _It is_ Capell.

  [106] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [108] [Giving her hand to Pol. Capell.

  [Aside.] Rowe.

  [112] _derive_] F1. _derives_ F2 F3 F4.

  [113] _bounty, fertile bosom_] _bounty's fertile bosom_ Hanmer.
  _bounty:--fertile become_ Jackson conj.

  [114] _well_] F1. _we'l_ F2 F4. _wee'l_ F3.

  _become_] _becomes_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _'t may_] _it may_ Steevens.

  [117] _looking-glass_] _glass_ S. Walker conj.

  [119] _Mamillius_] _Mamillus_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [121] _hast_] Capell. _has't_ Ff.

  [122] _They ... captain,_] As two lines in Capell, ending _mine ...
  captain._

  _it is_] _it's_ Warburton. _'t's_ Anon. conj.

  [Wipes the boy's face, Hanmer. [Pulling the boy to him and wiping him.
  Capell.

  [123] _but_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [124] _heifer_] _heycfer_ F1 F2.

  [125] [Observing Polixenes and Hermione. Rowe.

  [128] _pash_] _bush_ Becket conj.

  [129] _full like_] _full, like_ Ff.

  [132] _o'er-dyed_] _o're-dy'd_ F1 F2 F3. _o're di'd_ F4. _our dead_
  Collier (Collier MS.), _oft dyed_ Staunton conj.

  _wind_] _winds_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [134] _bourn_] Capell. _bourne_ Rowe. _borne_ F1 F2. _born_ F3 F4.

  [135] _were_] _is_ Hanmer.


  [136] _welkin eye_] _welking eye_ Rowe (ed. 2). _welkin-eye_ Theobald.

  [137] _dam?_--] _dam?_ Rowe. _dam_, Ff.

  [137, 138] _may't be?--Affection, ... centre_] Steevens. _may't be?
  Affection, thy intention stabs to the center_ Capell. _may't be
  Affection? ... centre_ Ff. _may't be--Imagination! thou dost stab to
  th' center_ Rowe.

  [138-146] _Affection ... brows._] Erased in Collier MS.

  [139] _not so_] F1. _not be so_ F2 F3 F4. _not to be so_ Hanmer.

  _held,_] _held?_ Staunton.

  [140, 141] _dreams;--how ... be?--With ... unreal_] Rann (Theobald
  conj.). _dreames (how ... be?) With ... unreal_: F1 F2. _dreams (how
  ... be?) With ... unreal_, F3 F4. _dreams--how ... be With ...
  unreal_? Pope. _dreams?--how! can this be?--With ... unreal_ Staunton.

  [142] _fellow'st_] _follow'st_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _nothing_] _nothings_ Hanmer.

  [147, 148] _How, my lord! What ... brother?_] Rann (Steevens). _How?
  my lord?_ Leo. _What ... brother?_ Ff. _How? my lord?_ Leo. _What ...
  my best brother?_ Rowe. _How? my lord? What ... my best brother?_
  Hanmer. _Now, my lord? What ... brother?_ Capell. _How is't, my lord?
  What ... brother?_ Long MS. _How now, my lord?_ Leo. _What ...
  brother?_ Singer MS. _Ho, my lord! What ... brother?_ Dyce conj.

  [148-150] _What ... lord?_] S. Walker arranges as three lines, ending
  _with you, ... brow ... lord?_

  [148] _is't_] _is it_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _best_] _my best_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [150] _Are you_] _Are not you_ Theobald. _Are you not_ Hanmer.

  _earnest._] _earnest, no.--_ Capell.

  [151] [Aside. Capell.

  [151, 152] _its ... Its_] _it's ... It's_ F1 F2. _its ... It's_ F3 F4.

  [154] _methoughts_] F4. _me thoughts_ F1 F2 F3. _my thoughts_ Collier
  (Egerton MS.), _methought_ Staunton. See note (II).

  _recoil_] F4. _requoyle_ F1 F2. _recoyl_ F3. _recall_ Grey conj.

  [157] _its_] _it's_ Ff.

  [158] _ornaments ... do_] Rowe. _ornaments ... do's_ Ff (_does_ F4).
  _ornament ... does_ Capell.

  _do_] Rowe. _do's_ F1 F2 F3. _does_ F4.

  [161] _eggs_] _ayes_ Becket conj.

  [162] _my lord_] om. Hanmer.

  [163] _will!_] Rowe. _will:_ Ff.

  _be's_] _be his_ Capell.

  [170] _childness_] _childishness_ Pope.

  [171] _would_] F1. _should_ F2 F3 F4.

  _thick_] _think_ F4.

  [177] _would_] _will_ Theobald.

  [180] [Aside] Aside, observing Her. Rowe (after line 182).

  [183] _neb_] _nib_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [185] [Exeunt....] Rowe.

  [194] _in's_] _in his_ Capell

  [202-206] _and 'tis ... baggage._] Put in the margin as spurious by
  Hanmer.

  [202, 203] _powerful, think it, From ... south:_] Capell. _powrefull:
  thinke it: From ... south,_ Ff.

  [203-206] _From east ... baggage._] Omitted by Warburton.

  [204] _know't_] _know it_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [206] _many ... on's_] F1 F2 F3. _many a ... one's_ F4. _many a ...
  of's_ Rowe.

  [208, 209] _Why ... there?_] S. Walker arranges as one line.

  [208] _they_] F2 F3 F4. om. F1.

  [209] _What._] _What? is_ Hanmer.

  [211] _Mamillius_] _Mamillus_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [Exit M.] Rowe.

  [212] SCENE III. Pope.

  [213] _his anchor_] _the anchor_ Hanmer.

  [215] _petitions; made_] _petitions made;_ Pope.

  [217] [Aside] Hanmer.

  _whispering, rounding_] _whisp'ring round_ Hanmer.

  [218] _is a so-forth_] _is a--so forth_ Rann (Mason conj.). _is--and
  so forth_ Malone conj. _is a sea-froth_ Jackson conj.

  [224] _is soaking_] _in soaking_ Grey conj.

  [230, 231] Leon. _Ha!_ Cam. _Stays here longer._ Leon. _Ay_] Leo. _Ha?
  stays here, longer. Ay_ Hanmer. Leo. _Ha?_ Cam. _Bohemia stays here
  longer._ Leo. _Ay_ Capell.

  [233] _Satisfy!_] _Satisfie?_ Ff. _Satisfie_ Theobald.

  [235] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [236] _nearest things to_] Ff. _things nearest_ Pope, _nearest things
  to_ S. Walker conj.

  _as well_] _with all_ Hanmer. _as well as_ Capell conj.

  [241] _my lord!_] Hanmer. (_my Lord._) Ff. _my lord._ Pope. _my
  lord--_ Theobald.

  [244] _hoxes_] Ff. _hockles_ Hanmer.

  [253] _Among_] F1. _Amongst_ F2 F3 F4.

  _doings_] F1. _doing_ F2 F3 F4.

  [254] _forth. In_] Theobald. _forth in_ Ff.

  _my lord,_] Theobald. (_my Lord._) Ff. _my Lord._ Rowe.

  [256] _industriously_] _injuriously_ Hanmer.

  [261] _non-performance_] Ff. _now-performance_ Heath conj.

  [266] _its_] _it's_ Ff.

  [267] _Ha'_] Ff. _Have_ Capell.

  [272] _think_] _think it_ Theobald. _think 't_ Hanmer. See note (III).

  [273] _wilt_] Ff. _wilt,_ Rowe.

  [276] _hobby-horse_] Rowe (ed. 2). _holy-horse_ Ff. _hoby-horse_
  Capell.

  [277] _puts to_] _buts tow_ Jackson conj.

  [285] _meeting_] F4 _meating_ F1 F2 F3. _meting_ Thirlby conj.

  [290] _noon_] F1. _the noon_ F2 F3 F4. _noon-day_ or _high noon_ Anon.
  conj.

  _eyes_] _eyes else_ S. Walker conj.

  [304] _wife's_] Rowe. _wives_ Ff.

  [307] _her medal_] Rowe. _her medull_ F1 F2 F3. _her medul_ F4. _his
  medal_ Theobald. _a medal_ Collier MS.

  [309] _bare_] Theobald. _bear_ Ff.

  [312] _ay_] Capell. _I_ Ff.

  [316] _gall'd_] Ff. _galled_ Steevens. _gull'd_ Rann.

  _mightst_] F1. _thou mightst_ F2 F3 F4.

  [318] _Sir_] _Sure_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [321] _Maliciously like_] _Maliciously, like_ F4. _Maliciously, like
  a_ Rowe. _Like a malicious_ Hanmer.

  [323] _So ... honourable._] _So sovereignly_ (_being honourable_)
  Malone conj.

  [323-325] _So ... unsettled_] S. Walker arranges as three lines,
  ending _lov'd thee ... think ... unsettled._ End 323 _I have_ Spedding
  conj.]

  [324] _I have loved thee,--_ Leon. _Make that ... rot!_] _I haue lou'd
  thee,_ Leo. _Make that ... rot:_ F1. _I have lov'd thee._ Leo. _Make
  that ... rot:_ F2 F3 F4. Leo. _I've lov'd thee.--Make 't ... rot:_
  Theobald. _So lov'd._ Leo. _Make that ... rot:_ Hanmer. Leo. _I've
  lov'd thee. Mark this question, and go do't_ Heath conj. Leo. _Make
  that thy question, and go rot! I have lov'd thee._ Capell (Tyrwhitt
  conj.). Leo. _Have I lov'd thee? Make that ... rot._ Long MS.

  [326, 327] _vexation; sully The_] _vexation? sully The_ Theobald,
  _vexation? Sully the_ Ff.

  [329] _thorns ... tails_] _and thorns ... and tails_ Hanmer.

  _nettles_] _nettles, pismires_ Anon. conj.

  _wasps;_] _wasps? or would I_ Capell.

  [332] _to't? ... this?_] _to't ... this?_ Hanmer.

  [333] _man_] _any man_ Long MS.

  [337] _for sealing_] _forsealing_ Anon. conj.

  [341] _blemish to her_] _blemish t' her_ S. Walker conj. reading lines
  341, 342 as one line.

  [364] Re-enter P.] Enter P. Ff.

  SCENE IV. Pope.

  [365] _My_] _Me_ F2.

  [366] _Hail_] _Hoyle_ F2.

  [376] _my lord_] om. Hanmer.

  [377] _do not_] _dare not_ Hanmer. om. Long MS.

  _Do you ... dare not? ... me:_] _do you ... dare not? ... me,_ Ff.
  _You do ... dare not ... me:_ Hanmer. _Do you ... dare not ... me?_
  Capell.

  [379] _you do_] F1 F2. _do you_ F3 F4.

  [384] _with't_] _with it_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [389] _I have_] F1 F4. _I_ F2 F3. _I've_ Pope.

  [391] _are certainly a_] Ff. _are, certain,_ Capell.

  _thereto_] om. Pope.

  [392] _Clerk-like_] Ff. _Clerk-like,_ Capell.

  _experienced_] _experienc'd_ F1. _expedienc'd_ F2 F3 F4.

  [404] _toward_] _towards_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [405] _to be_] Ff. _it be_ Theobald.

  [406] _I will_] _I'll_ Pope.

  [410] _utter it_] _utter't_ S. Walker conj.

  _me_] _I_ Collier MS.

  [412] _I am appointed him_] F1 _I appointed him_ F2 F3 F4. _I am
  appointed_ Rowe. _I am appointed, sir_ Hanmer. _I am appointed by him_
  Long MS. _I appointed am_ Anon. MS. apud Halliwell.

  [416] _To vice_] _To 'ntice_ Heath conj.

  [422, 424] _shunn'd ... read_] _fear'd ... read of_ Anon. MS. apud
  Halliwell.

  [424] _his thought_] _this though_ Theobald. _this thought_ Id. conj.

  _over_] _over!_ Jackson conj.

  [432] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [433] _'tis_] _it is_ S. Walker conj., reading lines 431-433 as four
  lines, ending _body ... sure ... question ... born._

  [444] _by_] _by't_ Hanmer.

  [445, 446] _mouth, thereon His_] Capell. _mouth; Thereon his_ Ff.
  _mouth, His_ Hanmer. _mouth, and thereon His_ S. Walker conj.

  [448] _places_] _paces_ Malone conj.

  [451] _jealousy_] _jealousy of his_ S. Walker conj.

  [458] _and_] _Heav'n_ Hanmer. _God_ Singer conj.

  [458, 459] _comfort ... theme_] _consort ... throne_ Jackson conj. See
  note (IV).

  [459] _queen,_] _queen's;_ Warburton.

  _theme_] _theame_ F1 F2. _theam_ F3 F4. _dream_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [465] _hour. Come_] _hour._ Pol. _Come_ Long MS.




ACT II.

SCENE I. _A room in_ LEONTES' _palace_


_Enter_ HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, _and_ Ladies.

    _Her._ Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
    'Tis past enduring.

    _First Lady._ Come, my gracious lord,
    Shall I be your play-fellow?

    _Mam._                         No, I 'll none of you.

    _First Lady._ Why, my sweet lord?

    _Mam._ You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if                  5
    I were a baby still. I love you better.

    _Sec. Lady._ And why so, my lord?

    _Mam._                         Not for because
    Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
    Become some women best, so that there be not
    Too much hair there, but in a semicircle,                         10
    Or a half-moon made with a pen.

    _Sec. Lady._                   Who taught you this?

    _Mam._ I learn d it out of women's faces. Pray now
    What colour are your eyebrows?

    _First Lady._                  Blue, my lord.

    _Mam._ Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose
    That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

    _First Lady._                            Hark ye;                 15
    The queen your mother rounds apace: we shall
    Present our services to a fine new prince
    One of these days; and then you'ld wanton with us,
    If we would have you.

    _Sec. Lady._              She is spread of late
    Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!                      20

    _Her._ What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
    I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,
    And tell's a tale.

    _Mam._                    Merry or sad shall't be?

    _Her._ As merry as you will.

    _Mam._ A sad tale's best for winter: I have one                   25
    Of sprites and goblins.

    _Her._                    Let's have that, good sir.
    Come on, sit down: come on, and do your best
    To fright me with your sprites; you're powerful at it.

    _Mam._ There was a man--

    _Her._                    Nay, come, sit down; then on.

    _Mam._ Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly;              30
    Yond crickets shall not hear it.

    _Her._                              Come on, then,
    And give't me in mine ear.

_Enter_ LEONTES, _with_ ANTIGONUS, Lords, _and_ others.

    _Leon._ Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

    _First Lord._ Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
    Saw I men scour so on their way: I eyed them                      35
    Even to their ships.

    _Leon._                   How blest am I
    In my just censure, in my true opinion!
    Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accursed
    In being so blest! There may be in the cup
    A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,                      40
    And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge
    Is not infected: but if one present
    The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
    How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
    With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.            45
    Camillo was his help in this, his pander:
    There is a plot against my life, my crown;
    All's true that is mistrusted: that false villain
    Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him:
    He has discover'd my design, and I                                50
    Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
    For them to play at will. How came the posterns
    So easily open?

    _First Lord._ By his great authority;
    Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
    On your command.

    _Leon._                   I know't too well.                      55
    Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him:
    Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
    Have too much blood in him.

    _Her._                    What is this? sport?

    _Leon._ Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;
    Away with him! and let her sport herself                          60
    With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes
    Has made thee swell thus.

    _Her._                    But I'ld say he had not,
    And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
    Howe'er you lean to the nayward.

    _Leon._                             You, my lords,
    Look on her, mark her well; be but about                          65
    To say 'she is a goodly lady,' and
    The justice of your hearts will thereto add
    ''Tis pity she's not honest, honourable:'
    Praise her but for this her without-door form,
    Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight              70
    The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
    That calumny doth use; O, I am out,
    That mercy does, for calumny will sear
    Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha's,
    When you have said 'she's goodly,' come between                   75
    Ere you can say 'she's honest:' but be't known,
    From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
    She's an adulteress.

    _Her._               Should a villain say so,
    The most replenish'd villain in the world,
    He were as much more villain: you, my lord,                       80
    Do but mistake.

    _Leon._              You have mistook, my lady,
    Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing!
    Which I 'll not call a creature of thy place,
    Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
    Should a like language use to all degrees                         85
    And mannerly distinguishment leave out
    Betwixt the prince and beggar: I have said
    She's an adulteress; I have said with whom:
    More, she's a traitor and Camillo is
    A federary with her; and one that knows,                          90
    What she should shame to know herself
    But with her most vile principal, that she's
    A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
    That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy
    To this their late escape.

    _Her._                         No, by my life,                    95
    Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
    When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
    You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord,
    You scarce can right me throughly then to say
    You did mistake.

    _Leon._              No; if I mistake                            100
    In those foundations which I build upon,
    The centre is not big enough to bear
    A school-boy's top. Away with her, to prison!
    He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
    But that he speaks.

    _Her._               There's some ill planet reigns:             105
    I must be patient till the heavens look
    With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
    I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
    Commonly are; the want of which vain dew
    Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have                      110
    That honourable grief lodged here which burns
    Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords,
    With thoughts so qualified as your charities
    Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
    The king's will be perform'd!

    _Leon._                        Shall I be heard?                 115

    _Her._ Who is't that goes with me? Beseech your highness,
    My women may be with me; for you see
    My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
    There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
    Has deserved prison, then abound in tears                        120
    As I come out: this action I now go on
    Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord:
    I never wish'd to see you sorry; now
    I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.

    _Leon._ Go, do our bidding; hence!                               125

    [Exit Queen, guarded; with Ladies.

    _First Lord._ Beseech your highness, call the queen again.

    _Ant._ Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
    Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer,
    Yourself, your queen, your son.

    _First Lord._                  For her, my lord,
    I dare my life lay down and will do't, sir,                      130
    Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless
    I' the eyes of heaven and to you; I mean,
    In this which you accuse her.

    _Ant._                         I fit prove
    She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where
    I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her;                    135
    Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her;
    For every inch of woman in the world,
    Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,
    If she be.

    _Leon._ Hold your peaces.

    _First Lord._                  Good my lord,--

    _Ant._ It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:                140
    You are abused and by some putter-on
    That will be damn'd for't; would I knew the villain,
    I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd,
    I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven;
    The second and the third, nine, and some five;                   145
    If this prove true, they'll pay for't: by mine honour,
    I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see,
    To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
    And I had rather glib myself than they
    Should not produce fair issue.

    _Leon._                        Cease; no more.                   150
    You smell this business with a sense as cold
    As is a dead man's nose: but I do see't and feel't,
    As you feel doing thus; and see withal
    The instruments that feel.

    _Ant._                    I fit be so,
    We need no grave to bury honesty:                                155
    There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten
    Of the whole dungy earth.

    _Leon._                   What! lack I credit?

    _First Lord._ I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
    Upon this ground; and more it would content me
    To have her honour true than your suspicion,                     160
    Be blamed for't how you might.

    _Leon._                   Why, what need we
    Commune with you of this, but rather follow
    Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
    Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
    Imparts this; which if you, or stupified                         165
    Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not
    Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
    We need no more of your advice: the matter,
    The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all
    Properly ours.

    _Ant._                    And I wish, my liege,                  170
    You had only in your silent judgement tried it,
    Without more overture.

    _Leon._                   How could that be?
    Either thou art most ignorant by age,
    Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
    Added to their familiarity,                                      175
    Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
    That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation
    But only seeing, all other circumstances
    Made up to the deed,--doth push on this proceeding:
    Yet, for a greater confirmation,                                 180
    For in an act of this importance 'twere
    Most piteous to be wild, I have dispatch'd in post
    To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
    Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
    Of stuff'd sufficiency: now from the oracle                      185
    They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
    Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?

    _First Lord._ Well done, my lord.

    _Leon._ Though I am satisfied and need no more
    Than what I know, yet shall the oracle                           190
    Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
    Whose ignorant credulity will not
    Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good
    From our free person she should be confined,
    Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence                    195
    Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
    We are to speak in public; for this business
    Will raise us all.

    _Ant._ [_Aside_] To laughter, as I take it,
    If the good truth were known.                     [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. A room....] The Palace. Theobald. The Scene continues. Pope.

  Enter....] Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, Ladies: LEONTES, ANTIGONUS,
  Lords. Ff. (Lord. F2 F3 F4).

  [6,7] _love ... lord?_] As one line by S. Walker.

  [7] _my lord_] _pray, my lord_ Hanmer _my good lord_ Steevens.

  [10] _semicircle_] _cemicircle_ F1

  [11] _Or_] _Like_ Hanmer. _taught you this_] Rowe. _taught
  this_ F1. _taught this_ F2 F3 F4.

  [13] _are_] F1. _be_ F2 F3 F4.

  [18] _you'ld_] F3. _you'ld_ F1 F2. _you'l_ F4. _you'll_
  Rowe.

  [23] _shall't_] _shall it_ Steevens.

  [25, 26.] _for winter ... goblins_] As one line in Hanmer.

  _I have ... goblins_] Arranged as by Dyce; as one line in Ff.

  [26] _good sir_] _sir_ Steevens.

  [26, 28.] _sprites_] Capell. _sprights_ Ff.

  [31] _Yond_] Ff. _Yon'_ Capell.

  [31, 32.] _Come ... ear_] Arranged as in Capell; as one line in Ff.

  [32] _give't_] _give it_ Hanmer.

  [32] Enter....] Capell. Enter L., A., and Lords. Rowe. om. F1. Enter
  L. F2 F3 F4.

  [33] SCENE II. Pope.

  [34] First Lord] Capell (and throughout the Scene). Lord. Ff.

  [36] _Even_] _On even_ Hanmer.] _blest_] _blessed then_ Steevens conj.

  [40] _drink, depart_] _drink; depart_ Ff. _drink a part_ Collier MS.
  _deep o't_ Staunton conj. _drain if deep_ Jervis conj.

  [50] _has_] _hath_ Rowe.

  [51] _pinch'd_] _perch'd_ Jackson conj.

  [54] _often hath no less prevail'd than so_] _hath prevailed
  oftentimes no less Than so_ Hanmer.

  [55] _command_] _commandement_ S. Walker conj.

  _too well._] _too well, too well._ Anon. conj.

  [56] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [61] [Some bear off Mamillius. Capell.

  [62] _But I'ld_] F4. _But Il'd_ F1 F2 F3. _I'd but_ Hanmer.

  [68] _honest, honourable_] _honest: honourable_ Ff.
  _honest-honourable_ S. Walker conj.

  [73] _does_] _do's_ Ff. _doth_ Hanmer.

  _sear_] _fear_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [76] _be't_] Ff. _be it_ Steevens. _it be_ Id. (1793), corrected in
  MS.

  [84] _Lest_] _Least_ Ff.

  [90.: _federary_] _feodary_ Collier (ed. 2. Malone conj.).

  _and one_] one Hanmer. _ay, and one_ S. Walker conj.

  [91] _shame_] _be asham'd_ Hanmer.

  _herself_] _herself with none_ Anon. conj.

  [92] _But ... principal_] omitted by Capell.

  _vile_] Pope. _vild_ Ff.

  [92, 93] _she's A bed-swerver_] _she Is a bed-swerver_ S. Walker conj.
  ending lines 90-93 at _one ... herself ... she._

  [93] _bed-swerver_] _bed-swarver_ Ff.

  _even_] _e'en_ S. Walker conj.

  [94] _That vulgars_] _That vulgar_ Rowe. _The vulgar_ Hanmer.

  _bold'st_] _bold_ Steevens (1793).

  [99] _then to_] _than to_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [100] _No_] _No, no_ Steevens (1793).

  _I mistake_] _I do mistake_ Hanmer.

  [103] _her, to_] Ff. _her to_ Pope.

  [104] _her is_] _her's_ S. Walker conj.

  _afar off_] F4. _a farre-off_ F1 F2. _afar-off_ F3. _far off Pope._
  _far of_ Theobald.

  [105] _But_] _In_ Hanmer.

  [107] _an aspect more favourable_] _aspect of more favour_ Hanmer.

  [115] [To the Guard. Capell.

  [124] _you have_] _you've_ Pope.

  [125] Exit....] Theobald, om. Ff.

  [127] _lest_] F3 F4. _least_ F1 F2.

  [134] _my stables_] _my stable-stand_ Hanmer. _my stable_ Rann. _me
  stables_ Collier (Collier MS.), _my stabler_ or _my stablers_ Edd.
  conj.

  [136] _Than_] Pope (ed. 2). _Then_ Ff. See note (v).

  _farther_] F1. _further_ F2 F3 F4.

  [141] _abused and by_] _abus'd and by_ F1. _abus'd by_ F2 F3 F4.
  _abused by_ Rowe.

  [143] _I would ... him._] _And I would--damn him;--_ Mitford conj.

  [143] _land-damn_] _Land-damne_ F1. _land-damm_ Hanmer. _laudanum_
  Farmer conj. _lamback_ Collier (ed. 2) (Collier MS.), _half-damn_
  Heath conj. _live-damn_ S. Walker conj. _landan_ or _lantam_ or
  _rantan_ Halliwell conj. See note (vi).

  [145] _nine, and some five_] Theobald. _nine: and some fiue_ F1.
  _nine: and sonnes five_ F2 F3. _nine: and sons five_ F4.

  [147] _'em_] F3 F4. _em_ F1 F2. _them_ Capell.

  [149] _glib_] _lib_ Grey conj. _unsib_ Heath conj.

  [152] _but I do_] _I_ Pope.

  [153] [Laying hold of his arm. Hanmer. Sinking his brows. Johnson.
  Striking his brows. Steevens.

  [154] _The ... so_] _The instruments of that you feel._ Ant. _If so_
  Heath conj.

  _that_] _I_ Hanmer.

  [160] _her_] _your_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [162] _of_] F1. _for_ F2 F3 F4.

  _but_] _not_ Hanmer.

  [167] _a truth_] _as truth_ Rowe (ed. 1).

  [169, 170] _on't, is all Properly_] Theobald. _on't, Is all properly_
  Ff. _on't, Is properly all_ Pope. _on't are all Properly_ Hanmer.

  [177] _lack'd_] _lack'd,_ Staunton.

  [182] _I have_] _I haue_ F1. _I've_ Hanmer.

  [184] _Cleomenes_] Capell. _Cleomines_ Ff (and throughout).

  _Dion_] F1. _Deon_ F2 F3 F4.

  [187] _me_] _me on_ Hanmer.

  [193] _have we_] F1 F2. _we have_ F3 F4.

  [195] _Lest_] F4. _Least_ F1 F2 F3.

  [198] [Aside] Hanmer.


SCENE II. _A prison._

_Enter_ PAULINA, _a_ Gentleman, _and_ Attendants.

    _Paul._ The keeper of the prison, call to him;
    Let him have knowledge who I am.
                                                   [_Exit Gent._
                                   Good lady,
    No court in Europe is too good for thee;
    What dost thou then in prison?

_Re-enter_ Gentleman, _with the_ Gaoler.

                                   Now, good sir,
    You know me, do you not?

    _Gaol._                        For a worthy lady                   5
    And one who much I honour.

    _Paul._                        Pray you, then,
    Conduct me to the queen.

    _Gaol._                        I may not, madam:
    To the contrary I have express commandment.

    _Paul._ Here's ado,
    To lock up honesty and honour from                                10
    The access of gentle visitors! Is't lawful, pray you.
    To see her women? any of them? Emilia?

    _Gaol._ So please you, madam,
    To put apart these your attendants, I
    Shall bring Emilia forth.

    _Paul._                   I pray now, call her.                   15
    Withdraw yourselves.     [_Exeunt Gentleman and Attendants._

    _Gaol._                   And, madam,
    I must be present at your conference.

    _Paul._ Well, be't so, prithee.              [_Exit Gaoler._
    Here's such ado to make no stain a stain
    As passes colouring.

_Re-enter_ Gaoler, _with_ EMILIA.

                         Dear gentlewoman,                            20
    How fares our gracious lady?

    _Emil._ As well as one so great and so forlorn
    May hold together: on her frights and griefs,
    Which never tender lady hath borne greater,
    She is something before her time deliver'd.                       25

    _Paul._ A boy?

    _Emil._         A daughter; and a goodly babe,
    Lusty and like to live: the queen receives
    Much comfort in't; says 'My poor prisoner,
    I am innocent as you.'

    _Paul._                   I dare be sworn:
    These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, beshrew them!           30
    He must be told on't, and he shall: the office
    Becomes a woman best; I'll take't upon me:
    If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister,
    And never to my red-look'd anger be
    The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia,                           35
    Commend my best obedience to the queen:
    If she dares trust me with her little babe,
    I'll show't the king and undertake to be
    Her advocate to the loud'st. We do not know
    How he may soften at the sight o' the child:                      40
    The silence often of pure innocence
    Persuades when speaking fails.

    _Emil._                        Most worthy madam,
    Your honour and your goodness is so evident,
    That your free undertaking cannot miss
    A thriving issue: there is no lady living                         45
    So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
    To visit the next room, I'll presently
    Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer;
    Who but to-day hammer'd of this design,
    But durst not tempt a minister of honour,                         50
    Lest she should be denied.

    _Paul._                   Tell her, Emilia,

    I'll use that tongue I have: if wit flow from't
    As boldness from my bosom, let't not be doubted
    I shall do good.

    _Emil._                   Now be you blest for it!
    I'll to the queen: please you, come something nearer.             55

    _Gaol._ Madam, if't please the queen to send the babe,
    I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
    Having no warrant.

    _Paul._              You need not fear it, sir:
    This child was prisoner to the womb and is
    By law and process of great nature thence                         60
    Freed and enfranchised; not a party to
    The anger of the king nor guilty of,
    If any be, the trespass of the queen.

    _Gaol._ I do believe it.

    _Paul._ Do not you fear: upon mine honour, I                      65
    Will stand betwixt you and danger.                [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  _Scene ii._] _Scene iii._ Pope.

  A prison.] Pope. Outer room of a prison. Capell.

  Enter PAULINA....] Hanmer. Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, Gaoler, Emilia.
  Ff.

  [2] _knowledge_] _the knowledge_ Rowe.

  [2, 6] _who_] F1. _whom_ F2 F3 F4.

  [Exit Gent.] Rowe (after line 1). om. Ff.

  [4] Re-enter....] Rowe (after _do you not?_), om. Ff.

  [7-10] Arranged as in Hanmer. _Here's ... from,_ as one line in Ff.
  Capell ends the lines _queen ... contrary ... ado, ... from._

  [11-13] Hanmer ends the lines _lawful ... them? ... madam._

  [13] _So please_] _If it so please_ Hanmer.

  [14] _apart_] _a-part_ F1 F2 F3. _a part_ F4.

  [15] _pray now_] F1. _pray you now_ F2 F3 F4.

  [16] [Exeunt Gent, and Attendants.] Exeunt Gent. &c. Theobald. om. Ff.

  [17] _your_] _all your_ Hanmer, ending the lines _be ... well, well
  ... prithee._

  [18] _Well, be't_] _Well; be it_ Rowe. _Well, well; Be it_ Hanmer.

  [Exit G.] Exit Kee. Capell. om. Ff.

  [19] _Here's_] _Here is_ Capell, reading lines 18-21 as three, ending
  _ado ... colouring ... lady?_

  [20] Re-enter....] Re-enter Keeper with E. Capell. Enter Emilia. F2 F3
  F4. om. F1.

  [21] _our_] _one_ F2.

  [29] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [30] _unsafe_] _unsane_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  _lunes_] _lures_ Becket conj.

  _i' the_] _i' th'_ Ff. _o' the_ Steevens.

  [31] _On't_] _of it_ Pope.

  _he shall_] _shall_ Rowe.

  [33] _honey-mouth'd_] _honey-mouth_ Warburton.

  [45] _there is_] _there's_ Hanmer.

  [49] _hammer'd of_] _hammered of_ Ff. _hammer'd on_ Hanmer.

  [51] _Lest_] Rowe. _Least_ Ff.

  [53] _let't_] F3 F4. _le't_ F1 F2. _let it_ Steevens.

  [59] _This child_] _The child_ Rowe.

  [64-66] As two lines in Capell, ending _upon ... danger._

  [66] _betwixt_] _'twixt_ Pope.


SCENE III. _A room in_ LEONTES' _palace_.

_Enter_ LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, _and_ Servants.

    _Leon._ Nor night nor day no rest: it is but weakness
    To bear the matter thus; mere weakness. If
    The cause were not in being,--part o' the cause,
    She the adulteress; for the harlot king
    Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank                         5
    And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she
    I can hook to me: say that she were gone,
    Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
    Might come to me again. Who's there?

    _First Serv._                        My lord?

    _Leon._ How does the boy?

    _First Serv._             He took good rest to-night;             10
    'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.

    _Leon._ To see his nobleness!
    Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
    He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply,
    Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself,                     15
    Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
    And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go,
    See how he fares. [_Exit Serv._] Fie, fie! no thought of him:
    The very thought of my revenges that way
    Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty,                            20
    And in his parties, his alliance; let him be
    Until a time may serve: for present vengeance,
    Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
    Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow:
    They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor                  25
    Shall she within my power.

_Enter_ PAULINA, _with a child_.

    _First Lord._                You must not enter.

    _Paul._ Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me:
    Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
    Than the queen's life? a gracious innocent soul,
    More free than he is jealous.

    _Ant._                       That's enough.                       30

    _Sec. Serv._ Madam, he hath not slept to-night; commanded
    None should come at him.

    _Paul._                 Not so hot, good sir:
    I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,
    That creep like shadows by him and do sigh
    At each his needless heavings, such as you                        35
    Nourish the cause of his awaking: I
    Do come with words as medicinal as true,
    Honest as either, to purge him of that humour
    That presses him from sleep.

    _Leon._                      What noise there, ho?

    _Paul._ No noise, my lord; but needful conference                 40
    About some gossips for your highness.

    _Leon._                               How!
    Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,
    I charged thee that she should not come about me:
    I knew she would.

    _Ant._           I told her so, my lord,
    On your displeasure's peril and on mine,                          45
    She should not visit you.

    _Leon._                   What, canst not rule her?

    _Paul._ From all dishonesty he can: in this,
    Unless he take the course that you have done,
    Commit me for committing honour, trust it,
    He shall not rule me.

    _Ant._               La you now, you hear:                        50
    When she will take the rein I let her run;
    But she'll not stumble.

    _Paul._                Good my liege, I come;
    And, I beseech you, hear me, who professes
    Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
    Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dares                     55
    Less appear so in comforting your evils,
    Than such as most seem yours: I say, I come
    From your good queen.

    _Leon._              Good queen!

    _Paul._                         Good queen, my lord,
    Good queen; I say good queen;
    And would by combat make her good, so were I                      60
    A man, the worst about you.

    _Leon._                   Force her hence.

    _Paul._ Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
    First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off;
    But first I'll do my errand. The good queen,
    For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter;               65
    Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.
                                       [_Laying down the child._

    _Leon._                                 Out!
    A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o' door:
    A most intelligencing bawd!

    _Paul._                    Not so:
    I am as ignorant in that as you
    In so entitling me, and no less honest                            70
    Than you are mad; which is enough, I 'll warrant,
    As this world goes, to pass for honest.

    _Leon._                                 Traitors!
    Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard.
    Thou dotard! thou art woman-tired, unroosted
    By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard;                    75
    Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone.

    _Paul._                               For ever
    Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
    Takest up the princess by that forced baseness
    Which he has put upon't!

    _Leon._                 He dreads his wife.

    _Paul._ So I would you did; then 'twere past all doubt            80
    You'ld call your children yours.

    _Leon._                        A nest of traitors!

    _Ant._ I am none, by this good light.

    _Paul._                              Nor I; nor any
    But one that's here, and that's himself; for he
    The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,
    His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,                85
    Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will not,--
    For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
    He cannot be compell'd to't,--once remove
    The root of his opinion, which is rotten
    As ever oak or stone was sound.

    _Leon._                        A callat                           90
    Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband
    And now baits me! This brat is none of mine;
    It is the issue of Polixenes:
    Hence with it, and together with the dam
    Commit them to the fire!

    _Paul._                 It is yours;                              95
    And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,
    So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
    Although the print be little, the whole matter
    And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip;
    The trick of's frown; his forehead; nay, the valley,             100
    The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek; his smiles;
    The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:
    And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
    So like to him that got it, if thou hast
    The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours                105
    No yellow in't, lest she suspect, as he does,
    Her children not her husband's!

    _Leon._                             A gross hag!
    And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
    That wilt not stay her tongue.

    _Ant._                         Hang all the husbands
    That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself                  110
    Hardly one subject.

    _Leon._              Once more, take her hence.

    _Paul._ A most unworthy and unnatural lord
    Can do no more.

    _Leon._              I'll ha' thee burnt.

    _Paul._                             I care not:
    It is an heretic that makes the fire,
    Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant;              115
    But this most cruel usage of your queen--
    Not able to produce more accusation
    Than your own weak-hinged fancy--something savours
    Of tyranny and will ignoble make you,
    Yea, scandalous to the world.

    _Leon._                        On your allegiance,               120
    Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,
    Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
    If she did know me one. Away with her!

    _Paul._ I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
    Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours: Jove send her            125
    A better guiding spirit! What needs these hands?
    You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
    Will never do him good, not one of you.
    So, so: farewell; we are gone.                      [_Exit._

    _Leon._ Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.             130
    My child? away with't! Even thou, that hast
    A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence
    And see it instantly consumed with fire;
    Even thou and none but thou. Take it up straight:
    Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,                        135
    And by good testimony, or I'll seize thy life,
    With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse
    And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
    The bastard brains with these my proper hands
    Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;                       140
    For thou set'st on thy wife.

    _Ant._                         I did not, sir:
    These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
    Can clear me in't.

    _Lords._                  We can: my royal liege,
    He is not guilty of her coming hither.

    _Leon._ You're liars all.                                        145

    _First Lord._ Beseech your highness, give us better credit:
    We have always truly served you; and beseech you
    So to esteem of us: and on our knees we beg,
    As recompense of our dear services
    Past and to come, that you do change this purpose,               150
    Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
    Lead on to some foul issue: we all kneel.

    _Leon._ I am a feather for each wind that blows:
    Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
    And call me father? better burn it now                           155
    Than curse it then. But be it; let it live.
    It shall not neither. You, sir, come you hither;
    You that have been so tenderly officious
    With Lady Margery, your midwife there,
    To save this bastard's life,--for 'tis a bastard,                160
    So sure as this beard's grey,--what will you adventure
    To save this brat's life?

    _Ant._                    Any thing, my lord,
    That my ability may undergo,
    And nobleness impose: at least thus much:
    I'll pawn the little blood which I have left                     165
    To save the innocent: any thing possible.

    _Leon._ It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
    Thou wilt perform my bidding.

    _Ant._                         I will, my lord.

    _Leon._ Mark and perform it: seest thou? for the fail
    Of any point in't shall not only be                              170
    Death to thyself but to thy lewd-tongued wife,
    Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
    As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
    This female bastard hence and that thou bear it
    To some remote and desert place quite out                        175
    Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it,
    Without more mercy, to its own protection
    And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
    It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
    On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,                      180
    That thou commend it strangely to some place
    Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.

    _Ant._ I swear to do this, though a present death
    Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe:
    Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens               185
    To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,
    Casting their savageness aside have done
    Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous
    In more than this deed does require! And blessing
    Against this cruelty fight on thy side,                          190
    Poor thing, condemn'd to loss!       [_Exit with the child._

    _Leon._                        No, I'll not rear
    Another's issue.

_Enter a_ Servant.

    _Serv._                   Please your highness, posts
    From those you sent to the oracle are come
    An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,
    Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,                195
    Hasting to the court.

    _First Lord._             So please you, sir, their speed
    Hath been beyond account.

    _Leon._                   Twenty three days
    They have been absent: 'tis good speed; foretells
    The great Apollo suddenly will have
    The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;                    200
    Summon a session, that we may arraign
    Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
    Been publicly accused, so shall she have
    A just and open trial. While she lives
    My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me,                      205
    And think upon my bidding.                        [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE IV. Pope.

  A room....] Scene changes to the Palace. Theobald.

  Enter ... and Servants] Enter Leontes, Servants, Paulina, Antigonus
  and Lords. Ff.

  [2] _weakness. If_] Collier. _weaknesse, if_ Ff.

  [3] _being,--_] _being:_ Ff.

  [5] _arm_] _aim_ Field conj.

  [9] First Atten. [advancing] Capell. Ser. Ff. Enrer. F2. Enter. F3 F4.
  om. F1.

  [10,11] _rest to-night; 'Tis hoped his_] _rest to night: 'tis hop'd
  His_ Ff. _rest To-night tis hop'd his_ Hanmer.

  [14] _declined_] _declin'd upon't_ Capell.

  _deeply_] _most deeply_ Hanmer.

  [18] [Exit....] Theobald.

  [20] _Recoil_] _Recoyle_ F1 F2. _Recoyl_ F3 F4. _Recoils_ Hanmer.

  [21] _And in ... be_] F1. omitted in F2 F3 F4.

  _And_] om. Capell.

  _alliance;_] _Alliance;_ F1. _alliances,--_ Capell conj.

  [21, 22] _let him be Until_] _let him Be 'till_ Hanmer.

  [26] SCENE V. Pope.

  Enter P. ... child.] Rowe. Enter P. Ff.

  First Lord.] Malone. Lord. Ff.

  [30] _That's enough._] Marked as aside by Capell.

  [31] Sec. Serv.] Ser. Ff. Atten. [within. Theobald. 2 A. Capell.

  [37] _medicinal_] _med'cinal_ Capell.

  [39] _What_] F2 F3 F4. _Who_ F1.

  [49] _trust it_] _trust me_ Hanmer.

  [50] _La you_] _La-you_ Ff. _Lo-you_ Pope.

  [51] _rein_] Rowe. _raine_ F1 F2. _rain_ F3 F4.

  [53] _professes_] _profess_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [57] _seem_] _seems_ Pope (ed. 2).

  [58, 59] Paul. _Good ... say good queen_] As one line in Capell.

  [59] _I say good queen_] As one line in Ff.

  [60] _her_] _it_ Heath conj.

  _good, so_] Theobald, _good so,_ Ff. _good,_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [61] _the worst_] _on th' worst_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [66] [Laying....] Rowe. om. Ff.

  [73] [To Ant. Rowe.

  [74] _thou art_] _that art_ Capell.

  _woman-tired_] _woman-tyr'd_ F1 F2 F3. _woman-tir'd_ F4.

  [75] _thy dame_] _the dame_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [76] _thy crone_] _thy croane_ F1. _the croane_ F2 F3. _the croan_ F4.

  [78] _forced_] _falsed_ Collier conj.

  [85] _his babe's_] _this babe's_ Capell.

  [90] _sound_] F1. _found_ F2 F3 F4.

  [95] _them_] _it_ Capell conj.

  [100] _valley_] _valleys_ Hanmer.

  [101] _pretty_] om. Hanmer.

  _of his chin_] _of's chin_ Dyce.

  _his smiles_] omitted by Capell.

  [109] _That_] _Thou_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [Aside. Anon. conj.

  [113] _ha' thee_] _have thee_ Steevens.

  [118] _something_] _sometimes_ Rowe.

  [120] _the world_] _all the world_ Pope.

  [125] _Jove_] _God_ Anon. conj.

  _her_] _him_ Heath conj.

  [126] _better guiding_] _better-guiding_ S. Walker conj.

  _needs_] F1. _neede_ F2. _need_ F3 F4.

  [130] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [131] _with't!_] _with't?_ Ff.

  _thou,_] _thou, thou_ Theobald.

  [137] _what thou else call'st_] _all that's_ Hanmer, ending line 136
  at _seize._

  [141] _set'st_] _sett'd'st_ Hanmer.

  [142] _These lords_] _The Lords_ Hanmer.

  [143] Lords.] Ff. Lord. Rowe. 1. L. Capell.

  [143, 144] Lords. _We can ... hither_] Lords. _We can._ First Lord.
  _My ... hither_ Anon. conj.

  [146] First Lord.] 1. L. Capell. Lord. Ff. Lords. Rowe.

  [147] _We have_] _We've_ Pope.

  _beseech you_] Rowe. _beseech'_ F1. beseech F2 F3 F4.

  [149] _services_] _service_ Hanmer, ending line 148 at _knees._

  [152] _we all kneel_] Lords. _We all kneel_ Anon. conj.

  [153] _feather_] F1 F2 F3. _father_ F4.

  [157] [To Ant. Rowe.

  [159] _midwife_] _Mid-wife_ Ff. _mild wife_ Rann (Capell conj.).

  [161] _this_] _his_ Theobald conj. _thy_ Collier (Egerton MS.).

  [164] _at least_] F1. _at last_ F2 F3 F4.

  [166] _any thing possible_] _what's possible_ Hanmer.

  [171] _lewd-tongued_] _loud-tongued_ Anon. conj.

  [177] _more_] F1. _much_ F2 F3 F4.

  _its_] F3 F4. _it_ F1 F2. See note (VII).

  [181] _strangely to some_] _to some stranger_ Hanmer.

  [182] _chance_] F1 F2. _change_ F3 F4.

  [189-191] _require! ... loss!_] _require; and ... side_ (_Poor ...
  losse._) Ff. _require; and ... side! Poor ... loss.--_ Theobald.]

  [190] _this_] _his_ Roderick conj.

  [191] [Exit ... child.] Rowe. Exit. Ff.

  _rear_] F3 F4. _reare_ F1. _rare_ F2.

  [192] [Enter a Servant.] Ff. Enter a Messenger. Rowe. om. Capell.

  Serv.] Ff. Mes. Rowe. 2. A. Capell.

  [196] First Lord.] 1. L. Capell. Lord. Ff.

  [197] _account_] F4. _accompt_ F1 F2 F3.

  [198] _'tis good speed; foretells_] _this good speed foretels_ Pope.

  _foretells_] _and foretells_ or _it foretells_ Keightley conj.




ACT III.

SCENE I. _A sea-port in Sicilia._


_Enter_ CLEOMENES _and_ DION.

    _Cleo._ The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
    Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
    The common praise it bears.

    _Dion._                        I shall report,
    For most it caught me, the celestial habits,
    Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence                  5
    Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
    How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly
    It was i' the offering!

    _Cleo._                   But of all, the burst
    And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,
    Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense,                     10
    That I was nothing.

    _Dion._              If the event o' the journey
    Prove as successful to the queen,--O be't so!--
    As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
    The time is worth the use on't.

    _Cleo._                             Great Apollo
    Turn all to the best! These proclamations,                        15
    So forcing faults upon Hermione,
    I little like.

    _Dion._ The violent carriage of it
    Will clear or end the business: when the oracle,
    Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up,
    Shall the contents discover, something rare                       20
    Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses!
    And gracious be the issue!                        [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  ACT III. SCENE I.] ACT II. SCENE IV. Theobald conj.

  A sea-port....] Edd. A part of Sicily near the seaside. Theobald. The
  same. A street in some town. Capell.

  Enter C. and D.] Enter C., D., and an Attendant. S. Walker conj.

  [2] _isle_] _soil_ Hanmer (Warburton conj.).

  [3] _I shall report,_] _It shames report._ Warburton.

  [4] _For most_] _Foremost_ Warburton.

  _it_] _they_ Hanmer.

  [14] _time ... use_] _use ... time_ Hanmer (Warburton).


SCENE II. _A court of Justice._

_Enter_ LEONTES, Lords, _and_ Officers.

    _Leon._ This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,
    Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried
    The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
    Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd
    Of being tyrannous, since we so openly                             5
    Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
    Even to the guilt or the purgation.
    Produce the prisoner.

    _Off._ It is his highness' pleasure that the queen
    Appear in person here in court. Silence!                          10

_Enter_ HERMIONE _guarded_; PAULINA _and_ Ladies _attending_.

    _Leon._ Read the indictment.

  _Off._ [_reads_] Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of
  Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in
  committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring
  with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king,  15
  thy royal husband: the pretence whereof being by circumstances
  partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance
  of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety,
  to fly away by night.

    _Her._ Since what I am to say must be but that                    20
    Which contradicts my accusation and
    The testimony on my part no other
    But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
    To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity
    Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,                  25
    Be so received. But thus, if powers divine
    Behold our human actions, as they do,
    I doubt not then but innocence shall make
    False accusation blush, and tyranny
    Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,                     30
    Who least will seem to do so, my past life
    Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
    As I am now unhappy; which is more
    Than history can pattern, though devised
    And play'd to take spectators. For behold me                      35
    A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
    A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
    The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing
    To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore
    Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it                 40
    As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
    'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
    And only that I stand for. I appeal
    To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
    Came to your court, how I was in your grace,                      45
    How merited to be so; since he came,
    With what encounter so uncurrent I
    Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond
    The bound of honour, or in act or will
    That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts                        50
    Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
    Cry fie upon my grave!

    _Leon._                   I ne'er heard yet
    That any of these bolder vices wanted
    Less impudence to gainsay what they did
    Than to perform it first.

    _Her._                    That's true enough;                     55
    Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

    _Leon._ You will not own it.

    _Her._                         More than mistress of
    Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
    At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
    With whom I am accused, I do confess                              60
    I loved him as in honour he required,
    With such a kind of love as might become
    A lady like me, with a love even such,
    So and no other, as yourself commanded:
    Which not to have done I think had been in me                     65
    Both disobedience and ingratitude
    To you and toward your friend; whose love had spoke,
    Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely
    That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
    I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd                     70
    For me to try how: all I know of it
    Is that Camillo was an honest man;
    And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
    Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

    _Leon._ You knew of his departure, as you know                    75
    What you have underta'en to do in's absence.

    _Her._ Sir,
    You speak a language that I understand not:
    My life stands in the level of your dreams,
    Which I'll lay down.

    _Leon._              Your actions are my dreams;                  80
    You had a bastard by Polixenes,
    And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame,--
    Those of your fact are so,--so past all truth:
    Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as
    Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,                      85
    No father owning it,--which is, indeed,
    More criminal in thee than it,--so thou
    Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage
    Look for no less than death.

    _Her._                    Sir, spare your threats:
    The bug which you would fright me with I seek.                    90
    To me can life be no commodity:
    The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
    I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,
    But know not how it went. My second joy
    And first-fruits of my body, from his presence                    95
    I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort,
    Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
    The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,
    Haled out to murder: myself on every post
    Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred                      100
    The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
    To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
    Here to this place, i' the open air, before
    I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
    Tell me what blessings I have here alive,                        105
    That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed.
    But yet hear this; mistake me not; no life,
    I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour,
    Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd
    Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else                          110
    But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
    'Tis rigour and not law. Your honours all,
    I do refer me to the oracle:
    Apollo be my judge!

    _First Lord._             This your request
    Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,                       115
    And in Apollo's name, his oracle.
                                     [_Exeunt certain Officers._

    _Her._ The Emperor of Russia was my father:
    O that he were alive, and here beholding
    His daughter's trial! that he did but see
    The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes                         120
    Of pity, not revenge!

_Re-enter_ Officers, _with_ CLEOMENES _and_ DION.

    _Off_. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
    That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
    Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
    This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd                     125
    Of great Apollo's priest and that since then
    You have not dared to break the holy seal
    Nor read the secrets in't.

    _Cleo. Dion._ All this we swear.

    _Leon._ Break up the seals and read.

  _Off._ [_reads_] Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blameless; 130
  Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe
  truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that which
  is lost be not found.

    _Lords._ Now blessed be the great Apollo!

    _Her._                                   Praised!

    _Leon._ Hast thou read truth?

    _Off._                         Ay, my lord; even so              135
    As it is here set down.

    _Leon._ There is no truth at all i' the oracle:
    The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.

_Enter_ Servant.

    _Serv._ My lord the king, the king!

    _Leon._                             What is the business?

    _Serv._ O sir, I shall be hated to report it!                    140
    The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
    Of the queen's speed, is gone.

    _Leon._                             How! gone!

    _Serv._                                  Is dead.

    _Leon._ Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
    Do strike at my injustice. [_Hermione faints._] How now there!

    _Paul._ This news is mortal to the queen: look down              145
    And see what death is doing.

    _Leon._                        Take her hence:
    Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover:
    I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
    Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
    Some remedies for life.
                    [_Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Hermione._

                              Apollo, pardon                         150
    My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!
    I'll reconcile me to Polixenes;
    New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo,
    Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
    For, being transported by my jealousies                          155
    To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
    Camillo for the minister to poison
    My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
    But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
    My swift command, though I with death and with                   160
    Reward did threaten and encourage him,
    Not doing it and being done: he, most humane
    And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
    Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,
    Which you knew great, and to the hazard                          165
    Of all incertainties himself commended,
    No richer than his honour: how he glisters
    Thorough my rust! and how his piety
    Does my deeds make the blacker!

_Re-enter_ PAULINA.

    _Paul._                             Woe the while!
    O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
    Break too!                                                       170

    _First Lord._ What fit is this, good lady?

    _Paul._ What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
    What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling?
    In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
    Must I receive, whose every word deserves                        175
    To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny
    Together working with thy jealousies,
    Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
    For girls of nine, O, think what they have done
    And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all                      180
    Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
    That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
    That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
    And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much,
    Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,                185
    To have him kill a king; poor trespasses,
    More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
    The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
    To be or none or little; though a devil
    Would have shed water out of fire ere done't:                    190
    Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death
    Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts,
    Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart
    That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
    Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,                     195
    Laid to thy answer: but the last,--O lords,
    When I have said, cry 'woe!'--the queen, the queen,
    The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, and vengeance for't
    Not dropp'd down yet.

    _First Lord._             The higher powers forbid!

    _Paul._ I say she's dead, I'll swear't. If word nor oath         200
    Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring
    Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
    Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you
    As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
    Do not repent these things, for they are heavier                 205
    Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee
    To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
    Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
    Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
    In storm perpetual, could not move the gods                      210
    To look that way thou wert.

    _Leon._                        Go on, go on:
    Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
    All tongues to talk their bitterest.

    _First Lord._                  Say no more:
    Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
    I' the boldness of your speech.

    _Paul._                        I am sorry for't:                 215
    All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
    I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much
    The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd
    To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help
    Should be past grief: do not receive affliction                  220
    At my petition; I beseech you, rather
    Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
    Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
    Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
    The love I bore your queen, lo, fool again!                      225
    I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
    I'll not remember you of my own lord,
    Who is lost too: take your patience to you,
    And I'll say nothing.

    _Leon._                   Thou didst speak but well
    When most the truth; which I receive much better                 230
    Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
    To the dead bodies of my queen and son:
    One grave shall be for both; upon them shall
    The causes of their death appear, unto
    Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit                       235
    The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there
    Shall be my recreation: so long as nature
    Will bear up with this exercise, so long
    I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
    To these sorrows.                                 [_Exeunt._     240


LINENOTES:

  SCENE II. A court....] Scene represents a Court of Justice. Theobald.]

  Enter...] Enter Leontes, Lords, Officers: Hermione (as to her Triall),
  Ladies: Cleomines, Dion. Ff.

  At the upper End, a Throne; Lords, on either Hand, Judges, and other
  Officers, seated; People attending. Enter Leontes, and train of Lords,
  to his Throne. Capell.

  [1] _sessions_] _session_ Theobald.

  _pronounce_] _pronounce it_ Keightley conj.

  [2] _Even_] _Ever_ Anon. conj.

  [10] _Silence!_] See note (VIII).

  Enter...] Hermione is brought in, guarded; Pauline, and Ladies,
  attending. Theobald. om. Ff.

  [12] Off. [reads]. Capell. Officer. Ff.

  [16] _circum stances_] F1. _circumstance_ F2 F3 F4.

  [29] _accusation_] F1. _accusations_ F2 F3 F4.

  [31] _Who_] Rowe. _Whom_ Ff.

  [36] _owe_] _owes_ Steevens (1785).

  [39] _prate_] _plead_ Keightley conj.

  [41] _grief_] See note (IX).

  _which .. spare:_] (_which ... spare_) Ff.

  [47, 48] _I Have_] _have I_ Hanmer.

  _I Have strain'd_] _have I Been stain'd_ Johnson conj. _I Have
  stray'd_ Collier (Mason conj.).

  [49] _bound_] _bounds_ Rowe.

  [53] _these_] _those_ F4.

  [55] _That's_] _That is_ Rowe.

  [57] _mistress of_] _I'm mistress of_ Hanmer. _misreport_ or
  _misprision_ Anon. conj. A line omitted. Anon. conj.

  [58] _Which_] _What_ Rowe. _That_ Seymour conj.

  [67] _toward_] F1 F2. _towards_ F3 F4.

  _friend_] F1. _friends_ F2 F3 F4.

  [68] _Even_] _Ever_ Long MS.

  [75, 76] _know What you_] _know what You_ S. Walker conj., reading
  lines 75-77 as two lines, ending _know what ... Sir._

  [83] _fact_] _pack_ Johnson conj. _sect_ Farmer conj. _pact_ Anon.
  conj.

  _fact are so,--so past_] _fact are]_ _so you're past_] Hanmer.

  [84] _Which to deny_] _To deny_ Capell.

  [84, 85] _for as ... itself_] As two lines in Steevens (1793), ending
  _as ... itself._

  [85] _brat hath been_] _brat's_ Hanmer, reading _for as ... itself_ as
  one line.

  _like_] _left_ Keightley conj.

  [90] _me_] _we_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

  [95] _And_] _The_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [96] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [98] _it_] Ff. _its_ Rowe. See note (VII).

  [100] _strumpet: ... hatred_] _strumpet ... hatred;_ Hanmer.

  [104] _limit_] F1 F2. _limbs_ F3 F4. _limbs. And_ Hanmer. _limb. And_
  Johnson conj.

  [107] _no life,_] _no! life,_ Hanmer. _my life,_ Grant White. _for
  life,_ Keightley conj.

  [114] SCENE III. Pope.

  [116] [Exeunt....] Capell. om. Ff.

  [121] Re-enter....] Re-enter Officers, with C. and D., bringing in the
  Oracle. Capell. Enter Dion and Cleomenes. F2 F3 F4 (at line 114). om.
  F1.

  [122] _this_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.

  [130] [reads] Capell.

  _chaste_] _cast_ F2.

  [135, 136] _Ay ... down_] Arranged as in Capell; as one line in Ff.

  [136] _it is_] om. Hanmer.

  [137] _truth_] _the truth_ Hanmer. _true_ Jervis conj.

  [138] _sessions_] _session_ Theobald.

  Enter Servant.] Rowe. om. Ff. Enter a Gentleman, hastily. Capell.

  [144] H. faints.] Rowe.

  _How now there!_] _How now there?_ Ff. _How now? there!_Johnson.

  [148] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [150] [Exeunt....] Malone. Exeunt.... Rowe (after line 148). om. Ff.

  [165] _great_] _to be great_ Anon. conj.

  _hazard_] F1. _certain hazard_ F2 F3 F4. _fearful hazard_ Rann conj.
  _doubtful hazard_ Malone conj. _hazarding_ Anon. conj.

  [168] _Thorough my_] Malone. _Through my_ F1. _Through my dark_ F2 F3
  F4.

  [169] SCENE V. Pope.

  Re-enter P.] Re-enter P., hastily. Capell. Enter P. Rowe. om. Ff.

  [170] _lest_] F3 F4. _least_ F1 F2.

  [171, 193, 213] First Lord.] 1. L. Capell. Lord. Ff.

  [173] _racks? fires?_] _what racks? what fires?_ Keightley conj.

  _flaying? boiling?_] F1. _flaying?_] _boyling? burning,_ F2 F3 F4.
  _flaying, rather! boiling_ Capell. _flaying, burning, boiling_ Collier
  MS.

  [174] _leads or oils_] _lead or oil_ S. Walker conj.

  _newer_] F1. _new_ F2 F3 F4.

  [175] _every_] F1. _very_ F2 F3 F4.

  [181] _but_] om. Theobald.

  _of_] F1. _for_ F2 F3 F4.

  [183] _thee, of a fool,_] Ff. _thee of a soul_ Theobald. _thee off, a
  fool,_ Warburton.

  [184] _damnable_] _damnably_ Long MS.

  _ingrateful_] _ungrateful_ Rann.

  [188] _to crows_] _of crows_ F4.

  _thy_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.

  [198] _sweet'st, dear'st_] _sweetest_ Hanmer.

  [205] _Do_] F1. _Dot_ F2. _Dost_ F3 F4.

  [205, 206] _Do ... stir:_] _Dost ... stir?_ Pope.

  [206] _woes_] _vows_ Hanmer.

  [217] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [220] _receive_] _revive_ Staunton conj.

  [221] _my petition_] _my relation_ Singer conj. _repetition_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  _petition; ... you,_] F1. _petition ... you,_ F2 F3 F4. _petition,...
  you;_ Rowe.

  [228] _Who is_] _Who's_ S. Walker conj.

  _take your_] _take you your_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [228, 229] _to you, And I'll_] _to you, and I will_ S. Walker conj.
  _to you, sir, And I'll_ Keightley conj.

  [238-240] _Will ... sorrows_] Johnson ends these lines at _exercise
  ... come, ... sorrows._

  [240] _To_] _Unto_ S. Walker conj.

  _sorrows_] _my sorrows_ Hanmer.


SCENE III. _Bohemia. A desert country near the sea._

_Enter_ ANTIGONUS _with a Child, and a_ Mariner.

    _Ant._ Thou art perfect, then, our ship hath touch'd upon
    The deserts of Bohemia?

    _Mar._                    Ay, my lord; and fear
    We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly
    And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
    The heavens with that we have in hand are angry                    5
    And frown upon's.

    _Ant._ Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;
    Look to thy bark: I'll not be long before
    I call upon thee.

    _Mar._ Make your best haste, and go not                           10
    Too far i' the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;
    Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
    Of prey that keep upon't.

    _Ant._                    Go thou away:
    I'll follow instantly.

    _Mar._                    I am glad at heart
    To be so rid o' the business.                       [_Exit._

    _Ant._                          Come, poor babe:                  15
    I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the dead
    May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
    Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream
    So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
    Sometimes her head on one side, some another;                     20
    I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
    So fill'd and so becoming: in pure white robes,
    Like very sanctity, she did approach
    My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,
    And gasping to begin some speech, her eyes                        25
    Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
    Did this break from her: 'Good Antigonus,
    Since fate, against thy better disposition,
    Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
    Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,                         30
    Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
    There weep and leave it crying; and, for the babe
    Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
    I prithee, call't. For this ungentle business,
    Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see                      35
    Thy wife Paulina more.' And so, with shrieks,
    She melted into air. Affrighted much,
    I did in time collect myself, and thought
    This was so and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
    Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously,                          40
    I will be squared by this. I do believe
    Hermione hath suffer'd death; and that
    Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
    Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
    Either for life or death, upon the earth                          45
    Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
    There lie, and there thy character: there these;
    Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
    And still rest thine. The storm begins: poor wretch,
    That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed                      50
    To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
    But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I
    To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!
    The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have
    A lullaby too rough: I never saw                                  55
    The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
    Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
    I am gone for ever.              [_Exit, pursued by a bear._

_Enter a_ Shepherd.

    _Shep._ I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty,
    or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there                 60
    is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child,
    wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting--Hark you now!
    Would any but these boiled brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty
    hunt this weather? They have scared away
    two of my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find      65
    than the master: if any where I have them, 'tis by the sea-side,
    browzing of ivy. Good luck, an't be thy will! what
    have we here? Mercy on's, a barne; a very pretty barne!
    A boy or a child, I wonder? A pretty one; a very pretty
    one: sure, some scape: though I am not bookish, yet I             70
    can read waiting-gentlewoman in the scape. This has
    been some stair-work, some trunk-work, some behind-door-work:
    they were warmer that got this than the poor thing
    is here. I'll take it up for pity: yet I'll tarry till my son
    come; he hallooed but even now. Whoa, ho, hoa!                    75

_Enter_ Clown.

    _Clo._ Hilloa, loa!

    _Shep._ What, art so near? If thou'lt see a thing to
    talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither. What
    ailest thou, man?

    _Clo._ I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land!           80
    but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky: betwixt
    the firmament and it you cannot thrust a bodkin's point.

    _Shep._ Why, boy, how is it?

    _Clo._ I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages,
    how it takes up the shore! but that's not to the point. O,        85
    the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em,
    and not to see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her
    main-mast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth, as
    you'ld thrust a cork into a hogshead. And then for the
    land-service, to see how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone;     90
    how he cried to me for help and said his name was Antigonus,
    a nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, to see how
    the sea flap-dragoned it: but, first, how the poor souls
    roared, and the sea mocked them; and how the poor gentleman
    roared and the bear mocked him, both roaring louder               95
    than the sea or weather.

    _Shep._ Name of mercy, when was this, boy?

    _Clo._ Now, now: I have not winked since I saw these
    sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the bear
    half dined on the gentleman: he's at it now.                     100

    _Shep._ Would I had been by, to have helped the old man!

    _Clo._ I would you had been by the ship side, to have
    helped her: there your charity would have lacked footing.

    _Shep._ Heavy matters! heavy matters! but look thee here,
    boy. Now bless thyself: thou mettest with things dying, I        105
    with things new-born. Here's a sight for thee; look thee,
    a bearing-cloth for a squire's child! look thee here; take up,
    take up, boy; open't. So, let's see: it was told me I should
    be rich by the fairies. This is some changeling: open't.
    What's within, boy?                                              110

    _Clo._ You're a made old man: if the sins of your youth
    are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold! all gold!

    _Shep._ This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so: up
    with't, keep it close: home, home, the next way. We are
    lucky, boy; and to be so still requires nothing but secrecy.     115
    Let my sheep go: come, good boy, the next way home.

    _Clo._ Go you the next way with your findings. I'll go
    see if the bear be gone from the gentleman and how much
    he hath eaten: they are never curst but when they are
    hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury it.               120

    _Shep._ That's a good deed. If thou mayest discern by that
    which is left of him what he is, fetch me to the sight of him.

    _Clo._ Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i'the
    ground.

    _Shep._'Tis a lucky day, boy, and we'll do good deeds on't.      125
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE VI. Pope.

  Bohemia. A desert.... ] Malone. om. Ff. A desert Country; the Sea at a
  little distance. Rowe.

  [Enter A.... ] Rowe. Enter Antigonus, a Mariner, Babe,
  Shepherd, and Clown. Ff.

  [2] _my lord_] om. Hanmer.

  [3] _We have_] _We've_ Pope.

  [6] _upon's_] _upon us_ Capell.

  _Go, get_] _go get_ F1. _get_ F2 F3 F4. _get thee_ Rowe.

  [9] _upon_] _on_ Hanmer.

  [14] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [19] _a waking_] _awaking_ Anon. conj.

  [20] _on_] F1. _is on_ F2 F3 F4.

  _some_] _some'_ Capell.

  _another_] _on other_ Anon. conj.

  [22] _becoming_] _becomming_ F1. _o'er-running_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [29] _thrower-out_] _thower-out_ F1.

  [32] _weep_] _wend_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [39] _so_] _sooth_ Warburton conj.

  [44] _Polixenes_] _Polexenus_ F2.

  [46] _its_] _it's_ Ff.

  [Laying down the child. Rowe.

  [47] [Laying down a bundle. Johnson.

  [48] _please ... pretty_] _please, both breed thee (pretty)_ Ff.
  _please, both breed thee pretty,_ Reed (1813). _please both breed
  thee, (pretty!)_ Staunton.

  _pretty_] _pretty one_ Rowe.

  [54] _thou'rt_] _thou art_ F4.

  [58] Enter....] Ff. Enter an old Shepherd. Rowe. Enter a Shepherd.
  Crooke. Collier MS.

  [59] SCENE VII. Pope.

  _ten_] _thirteen_ Hanmer. _sixteen_ Edd. conj. See note (X).

  [64] _scared_] _scarr'd_ Ff.

  [67] _an't_] Pope (ed. 2). _and't_ Ff.

  _thy will_] F1. _the will_ F2 F3 F4.

  [68] _here?_] _here?_ [taking up the child. Rowe.

  [69] _boy_] _god_ Grant White.

  _child_] _maid child_ Keightley conj.

  [75] _hallooed_] _hallow'd_ F1 F2 F3. hollow'd F4.

  [76] Enter Clown.] Ff. Dyce puts it after _hither_, line 78.

  Clo.] Clo. [within. Dyce. Clo. [without. Staunton.

  [85] _takes_] _rakes_ Hanmer.

  [87] _and not_] _and then not_ Capell.

  [89] _for_] om. Rowe (ed. 2).

  [89, 90] _for the land-service_] _the land-service Rowe_ (ed. 2). _the
  land-sight_ Hanmer.

  [100] _gentleman_] _old gentleman_ Malone conj.

  [101] _the old man_] _the nobleman_ Theobald. _tho' old man_ Jackson
  conj.

  [102] _would_] _would not_ Theobald conj.

  _ship_] _ship's_ Collier.

  [103] [Aside. Theobald.

  [105] _mettest_] _met'st_ F1 F2 F3. _meet'st_ F4.

  [111] _made_] Theobald (L. H. conj.). _mad_ Ff.

  [112] _you're_] _you are_ F4.

  [113] _'twill_] _will_ Theobald.

  [114] _with't_] _with it_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [122] _sight_] _fight_ F1. See note (XI).




ACT IV. SCENE I.


_Enter_ TIME, _the_ Chorus.

    _Time._ I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror
    Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error,
    Now take upon me, in the name of Time,
    To use my wings. Impute it not a crime
    To me or my swift passage, that I slide                            5
    O'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried
    Of that wide gap, since it is in my power
    To o'erthrow law and in one self-born hour
    To plant and o'erwhelm custom. Let me pass
    The same I am, ere ancient'st order was                           10
    Or what is now received: I witness to
    The times that brought them in; so shall I do
    To the freshest things now reigning and make stale
    The glistering of this present, as my tale
    Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,                     15
    I turn my glass and give my scene such growing
    As you had slept between: Leontes leaving,
    The effects of his fond jealousies so grieving
    That he shuts up himself, imagine me,
    Gentle spectators, that I now may be                              20
    In fair Bohemia; and remember well,
    I mentioned a son o' the king's, which Florizel
    I now name to you; and with speed so pace
    To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace
    Equal with wondering: what of her ensues                          25
    I list not prophesy; but let Time's news
    Be known when 'tis brought forth. A shepherd's daughter,
    And what to her adheres, which follows after,
    Is the argument of Time. Of this allow,
    If ever you have spent time worse ere now;                        30
    If never, yet that Time himself doth say
    He wishes earnestly you never may.                  [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  ACT IV. SCENE I] Actus Quartus, Scena Prima. Ff. om. Warburton. ACT
  IV. Capell. See note (XII).

  [1-32] Spurious. Heath conj.

  [2] _makes and unfolds_] Ff. _make and unfold_ Rowe. _mask and unfold_
  Theobald.

  [6] _growth_] _gulf_ Warburton.

  [7-9] _gap, since ... custom. Let_] _gap. Since ... custom, let_ Lloyd
  conj.

  [11] _witness_] _witness'd_ Capell.

  [17, 18, 19] _leaving, ... jealousies ... himself, imagine_]
  _leaving,--jealousies ... himself;--imagine_ Staunton. _leaving ...
  jealousies, ... himself. Imagine_ F1. _leaving ... jealousies, ...
  himself, imagine_ F2 F3 F4.

  [18] _The_] _To the_ Keightley conj.

  [19, 20] _imagine me, ... that I_] _imagine we ... that you_ Johnson
  conj.

  [22] _I mentioned_] F1. _I mention here_ F2 F3 F4. _There is_ Hanmer.
  _I mention'd_ Capell.

  _which_] _whom_ Pope.


SCENE II. _Bohemia._ _The palace of_ POLIXENES.

_Enter_ POLIXENES _and_ CAMILLO.

    _Pol._ I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate:
    'tis a sickness denying thee any thing; a death to grant this.

    _Cam._ It is fifteen years since I saw my country:
    though I have for the most part been aired abroad, I desire
    to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent king, my              5
    master, hath sent for me; to whose feeling sorrows I might
    be some allay, or I o'erween to think so, which is another
    spur to my departure.

    _Pol._ As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest
    of thy services by leaving me now: the need I have of thee,       10
    thine own goodness hath made; better not to have had thee
    than thus to want thee: thou, having made me businesses,
    which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must
    either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with thee
    the very services thou hast done; which if I have not enough      15
    considered, as too much I cannot, to be more thankful to
    thee shall be my study; and my profit therein, the heaping
    friendships. Of that fatal country, Sicilia, prithee speak no
    more; whose very naming punishes me with the remembrance
    of that penitent, as thou callest him, and reconciled             20
    king, my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and
    children are even now to be afresh lamented. Say to me,
    when sawest thou the Prince Florizel, my son? Kings are
    no less unhappy, their issue not being gracious, than they
    are in losing them when they have approved their virtues.         25

    _Cam._ Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What
    his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I have
    missingly noted, he is of late much retired from court and
    is less frequent to his princely exercises than formerly he
    hath appeared.                                                    30

    _Pol._ I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some
    care; so far, that I have eyes under my service which look
    upon his removedness; from whom I have this intelligence,
    that he is seldom from the house of a most homely shepherd;
    a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond               35
    the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable
    estate.

    _Cam._ I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a
    daughter of most rare note: the report of her is extended
    more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.            40

    _Pol._ That's likewise part of my intelligence; but, I
    fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany
    us to the place; where we will, not appearing
    what we are, have some question with the shepherd; from
    whose simplicity I think it not uneasy to get the cause of        45
    my son's resort thither. Prithee, be my present partner in
    this business, and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

    _Cam._ I willingly obey your command.

    _Pol._ My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] Scena Secunda. Ff.

  The palace of Polixenes.]? Court of Bohemia. Pope. A room in
  Polixenes' Palace. Capell.

  [3] _fifteen_] _sixteen_ Hanmer.

  [12] _businesses_] _business_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [17] _my_] _thy_ Long MS.

  [17, 18] _heaping friendships_] _heaping friendship_ Hanmer. _reaping
  friendships_ Warburton.

  [28] _missingly_] (_missingly_) Ff. _musingly_ Hanmer. _missing him_
  Warburton.

  [32] _care; so far,_] Capell. _care, so farre,_ F1 F2 F3. _care so
  far,_ F4.

  [41] _part_] _a part_ Theobald.

  [41, 42] _but, I fear, the angle_] _but (I fear) the Angle_ Ff. _and,
  I fear, the Engle_ Theobald, _and, I fear, the angle_ Hanmer. _but, I
  fear the angle_ Steevens.

  [46] _thither_] _thether_ F1.

  [49] Exeunt.] Rowe. Exit. Ff.


SCENE III. _A road near the_ Shepherd's _cottage_.

_Enter_ AUTOLYCUS, _singing_.

      When daffodils begin to peer,
       With heigh! the doxy over the dale,
      Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;
       For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.

      The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,                          5
       With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
      Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;
       For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

      The lark, that tirra-lyra chants,
       With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,                10
      Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
       While we lie tumbling in the hay.

    I have served Prince Florizel and in my time wore three-pile;
    but now I am out of service:

      But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?                         15
       The pale moon shines by night:
      And when I wander here and there,
       I then do most go right.

      If tinkers may have leave to live,
       And bear the sow-skin budget,                                  20
      Then my account I well may give,
       And in the stocks avouch it.

    My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to lesser
    linen. My father named me Autolycus; who being, as I
    am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of          25
    unconsidered trifles. With die and drab I purchased this
    caparison, and my revenue is the silly cheat. Gallows and
    knock are too powerful on the highway: beating and hanging
    are terrors to me: for the life to come, I sleep out the
    thought of it. A prize! a prize!                                  30

    _Enter_ Clown.

    _Clo._ Let me see: every 'leven wether tods; every tod
    yields pound and odd shilling; fifteen hundred shorn, what
    comes the wool to?

    _Ant._ [_Aside_] If the springe hold, the cock's mine.

    _Clo._ I cannot do't without counters. Let me see; what           35
    am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of
    sugar; five pound of currants; rice--what will this sister
    of mine do with rice? But my father hath made her mistress
    of the feast, and she lays it on. She hath made me
    four and twenty nosegays for the shearers, three-man song-men     40
    all, and very good ones; but they are most of them
    means and bases; but one puritan amongst them, and he
    sings psalms to hornpipes. I must have saffron to colour
    the warden pies; mace; dates, none, that's out of my note;
    nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may           45
    beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun.

    _Ant._ O that ever I was born!  [_Grovelling on the ground._

    _Clo._ I' the name of me--

    _Ant._ O, help me, help me! pluck but off these rags;
    and then, death, death!                                           50

    _Clo._ Alack, poor soul! thou hast need of more rags to
    lay on thee, rather than have these off.

    _Ant._ O sir, the loathsomeness of them offends me more
    than the stripes I have received, which are mighty ones and
    millions.                                                         55

    _Clo._ Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come
    to a great matter.

    _Ant._ I am robbed, sir, and beaten; my money and apparel
    ta'en from me, and these detestable things put upon me.

    _Clo._ What, by a horseman, or a footman?                         60

    _Ant._ A footman, sweet sir, a footman.

    _Clo._ Indeed, he should be a footman by the garments
    he has left with thee: if this be a horseman's coat, it hath
    seen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee:
    come, lend me thy hand.                                           65

    _Ant._ O, good sir, tenderly, O!

    _Clo._ Alas, poor soul!

    _Ant._ O, good sir, softly, good sir! I fear, sir, my
    shoulder-blade is out.

    _Clo._ How now! canst stand?                                      70

    _Ant._ Softly, dear sir [_picks his pocket_]; good sir, softly.
    You ha' done me a charitable office.

    _Clo._ Dost lack any money? I have a little money for
    thee.

    _Ant._ No, good sweet sir; no, I beseech you, sir: I have         75
    a kinsman not past three quarters of a mile hence, unto
    whom I was going; I shall there have money, or any thing I
    want: offer me no money, I pray you; that kills my heart.

    _Clo._ What manner of fellow was he that robbed you?

    _Ant._ A fellow, sir, that I have known to go about with          80
    troll-my-dames: I knew him once a servant of the prince:
    I cannot tell, good sir, for which of his virtues it was, but
    he was certainly whipped out of the court.

    _Clo._ His vices, you would say; there's no virtue whipped
    out of the court: they cherish it to make it stay there;          85
    and yet it will no more but abide.

    _Aut._ Vices I would say, sir. I know this man well:
    he hath been since an ape-bearer; then a process-server,
    a bailiff; then he compassed a motion of the Prodigal Son,
    and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land           90
    and living lies; and, having flown over many knavish professions,
    he settled only in rogue: some call him Autolycus.

    _Clo._ Out upon him! prig, for my life, prig: he haunts
    wakes, fairs and bear-baitings.

    _Aut._ Very true, sir; he, sir, he; that's the rogue that         95
    put me into this apparel.

    _Clo._ Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia: if
    you had but looked big and spit at him, he'ld have run.

    _Aut._ I must confess to you, sir, I am no fighter: I am
    false of heart that way; and that he knew, I warrant him.        100

    _Clo._ How do you now?

    _Aut._ Sweet sir, much better than I was; I can stand
    and walk: I will even take my leave of you, and pace softly
    towards my kinsman's.

    _Clo._ Shall I bring thee on the way?                            105

    _Aut._ No, good-faced sir; no, sweet sir.

    _Clo._ Then fare thee well: I must go buy spices for our
    sheep-shearing.

    _Aut._ Prosper you, sweet sir! [_Exit Clown._] Your purse
    is not hot enough to purchase your spice. I'll be with you       110
    at your sheep-shearing too: if I make not this cheat bring
    out another and the shearers prove sheep, let me be unrolled
    and my name put in the book of virtue!

    _Song._ Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
                 And merrily hent the stile-a:                       115
               A merry heart goes all the day,
                 Your sad tires in a mile-a.            [_Exit._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] Scena Tertia. Ff. SCENE II. Warburton.

  A road....] Malone. om. Ff. The country. Pope. Fields near the
  Shepherd's. Capell.

  [1] _daffodils_] Johnson. _daffadils_ Ff.

  [3, 4] _comes ... For ... reigns in the winter's_] _comes ... For ...
  reigns o'er the winter's_ Hanmer. _come ... 'Fore ... reins in the
  winter_ Warburton. _comes ... For ... runs in the winter_ Thirlby
  conj. _comes ... For ... runs in the winters_ Mason conj.

  [6] _heigh_] _Hey_ Ff.

  [7] _pugging_] _progging_ Hanmer. _prigging_ Collier MS.

  _on_] Theobald. _an_ Ff.

  [9] _that_] _with_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  _tirra-lyra_] _tirra-Lyra_ F1 F2. _tirra Lyra_ F3. _tirra Lycra_ F4.

  [10] _With heigh! with heigh!_] _With heigh, with heigh_ F2 F3 F4.
  _With heigh_, F1. _With heigh ho!_ S. Walker conj.

  [18] _most go_] _go most_ Pope.

  [20] _sow-skin_] _show-skin?_ F4.

  _budget_] Rowe. _bowget_ Ff.

  [24, 25] _Autolycus; who ... was likewise_] _Autolicus, being littered
  under Mercury, who, as I am, was likewise_ Theobald.]

  [26] _this_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [27] _silly_] _sly_ Hanmer.

  [28] _knock_] _knocks_ Hanmer.

  [28, 29] _beating and hanging_] _hanging and beating_ Collier conj.

  [31] SCENE III. Warburton.

  _'leven wether_] _'leven weather_ Capell. _Leaven-weather_ Ff. _eleven
  weather_ Rowe. _eleventh-weather_ Hanmer. _living wether_ Malone conj.

  _tod_] F1. _told_ F2 F3 F4.

  [32] _pound and odd_] _a pound and one odd_ Hanmer.

  [34] [Aside] Rowe.

  [35] _counters_] Capell. _compters_ Ff.

  [37] _sugar_] _sugar_ [reading out of a Note. Capell.

  _currants_] Rowe. _currence_ Ff.

  [40] _three-man_] _they're men_ or _they're main_ or _thrum-men_
  Theobald conj.

  [42] _amongst_] _among_ F4.

  [46] _prunes_] Pope. _Prewyns_ Ff. _pruns_ Rowe (ed. 1). _pruins_ Id.
  (ed. 2).

  _raisins_] Pope. _reysons_ F1 F2. _reasons_ F3 F4. _rasins_ Rowe.

  [47] [Grovelling....] Rowe.

  [48] _me--_] Rowe. _me_. Ff. _the--_ Theobald conj. om. Johnson conj.
  See note (XIII).

  [53] _offends_] F2 F3 F4. _offend_ F1.

  [59] _detestable_] _derestable_ F1.

  [65] [Helping.... Rowe. om. Ff.

  [71] [picks....] Capell. om. Ff.

  Cuts his purse. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [72] _ha'_] _ha_ Ff.

  [81] _troll-my-dames_] _troll-madams_ Hanmer.

  _him_] _him him_ F2.

  [89] _a bailiff_] _to a bailiff_ Edd. conj.

  _compassed_] _compos'd_ Long MS.

  [90] _where_] _of where_ Keightley conj.

  [92] _rogue_] _a rogue_ Warburton.

  [101] _do you_] _do you do_ F4.

  [105] _the way_] _thy way_ F4.

  [107] _fare thee well_] _fartheewell_ F1. _farewell_ F2. _farewel_ F3
  F4.

  _buy_] F1. _to buy_ F2 F3 F4.

  [109] [Exit Clown.] Capell. Exit. Ff (after line 108).

  [112, 113] _unrolled_] _unrold_ Ff. _enrolled_ Collier (Collier MS.).
  _unrogued_ W. N. L. (N. and Q.). conj.

  [115] _hent_] _hend_ Hanmer.

  [115-117] _stile-a ... mile-a_] _stile, o ... mile, o_ The Dancing
  Master (1650). _stil-e ... mil-e_ Lewis conj.


SCENE IV. _The_ Shepherd's _cottage_.

_Enter_ FLORIZEL _and_ PERDITA.

    _Flo._ These your unusual weeds to each part of you
    Do give a life: no shepherdess, but Flora
    Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing
    Is as a meeting of the petty gods,
    And you the queen on't.

    _Per._                    Sir, my gracious lord,                   5
    To chide at your extremes it not becomes me:
    O, pardon, that I name them! Your high self,
    The gracious mark o' the land, you have obscured
    With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
    Most goddess-like prank'd up: but that our feasts                 10
    In every mess have folly and the feeders
    Digest it with a custom, I should blush
    To see you so attired, sworn, I think,
    To show myself a glass.

    _Flo._                    I bless the time
    When my good falcon made her flight across                        15
    Thy father's ground.

    _Per._                    Now Jove afford you cause!
    To me the difference forges dread; your greatness
    Hath not been used to fear. Even now I tremble
    To think your father, by some accident,
    Should pass this way as you did: O, the Fates!                    20
    How would he look, to see his work, so noble,
    Vilely bound up? What would he say? Or how
    Should I, in these my borrow'd flaunts, behold
    The sternness of his presence?

    _Flo._                         Apprehend
    Nothing but jollity. The gods themselves,                         25
    Humbling their deities to love, have taken
    The shapes of beasts upon them: Jupiter
    Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
    A ram, and bleated; and the fire-robed god,
    Golden Apollo, a poor humble swain,                               30
    As I seem now. Their transformations
    Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
    Nor in a way so chaste, since my desires
    Run not before mine honour, nor my lusts
    Burn hotter than my faith.

    _Per._                    O, but, sir,                            35
    Your resolution cannot hold, when 'tis
    Opposed, as it must be, by the power of the king:
    One of these two must be necessities,
    Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose,
    Or I my life.

    _Flo._          Thou dearest Perdita,                             40
    With these forced thoughts, I prithee, darken not
    The mirth o' the feast. Or I'll be thine, my fair,
    Or not my father's. For I cannot be
    Mine own, nor any thing to any, if
    I be not thine. To this I am most constant,                       45
    Though destiny say no. Be merry, gentle;
    Strangle such thoughts as these with any thing
    That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
    Lift up your countenance, as it were the day
    Of celebration of that nuptial which                              50
    We two have sworn shall come.

    _Per._                         O lady Fortune,
    Stand you auspicious!

    _Flo._                    See, your guests approach:
    Address yourself to entertain them sprightly,
    And let's be red with mirth.

_Enter_ Shepherd, Clown, MOPSA, DORCAS, _and others_, _with_ POLIXENES
_and_ CAMILLO _disguised_.

    _Shep._ Fie, daughter! when my old wife lived, upon               55
    This day she was both pantler, butler, cook,
    Both dame and servant; welcomed all, served all;
    Would sing her song and dance her turn; now here,
    At upper end o' the table, now i' the middle;
    On his shoulder, and his; her face o' fire                        60
    With labour and the thing she took to quench it,
    She would to each one sip. You are retired,
    As if you were a feasted one and not
    The hostess of the meeting: pray you, bid
    These unknown friends to's welcome; for it is                     65
    A way to make us better friends, more known.
    Come, quench your blushes and present yourself
    That which you are, mistress o' the feast: come on,
    And bid us welcome to your sheep-shearing,
    As your good flock shall prosper.

    _Per._               [_To Pol._] Sir, welcome:                    70
    It is my father's will I should take on me
    The hostess-ship o' the day. [_To Cam._] You're welcome, sir.
    Give me those flowers there, Dorcas. Reverend sirs,
    For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep
    Seeming and savour all the winter long:                           75
    Grace and remembrance be to you both,
    And welcome to our shearing!

    _Pol._                    Shepherdess,
    A fair one are you, well you fit our ages
    With flowers of winter.

    _Per._                    Sir, the year growing ancient,
    Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth                       80
    Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o' the season
    Are our carnations and streak'd gillyvors,
    Which some call nature's bastards: of that kind
    Our rustic garden's barren; and I care not
    To get slips of them.

    _Pol._                    Wherefore, gentle maiden,               85
    Do you neglect them?

    _Per._                    For I have heard it said
    There is an art which in their piedness shares
    With great creating nature.

    _Pol._                         Say there be;
    Yet nature is made better by no mean,
    But nature makes that mean: so, over that art                     90
    Which you say adds to nature, is an art
    That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry
    A gentler scion to the wildest stock,
    And make conceive a bark of baser kind
    By bud of nobler race: this is an art                             95
    Which does mend nature, change it rather, but
    The art itself is nature.

    _Per._                         So it is.

    _Pol._ Then make your garden rich in gillyvors,
    And do not call them bastards.

    _Per._                         I'll not put
    The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;                     100
    No more than were I painted I would wish
    This youth should say 'twere well, and only therefore
    Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
    Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram;
    The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun                       105
    And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
    Of middle summer, and I think they are given
    To men of middle age. You're very welcome.

    _Cam._ I should leave grazing, were I of your flock,
    And only live by gazing.

    _Per._                         Out, alas!                        110
    You'ld be so lean, that blasts of January
    Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend,
    I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
    Become your time of day; and yours, and yours,
    That wear upon your virgin branches yet                          115
    Your maidenheads growing: O Proserpina,
    For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
    From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
    That come before the swallow dares, and take
    The winds of March with beauty; violets dim                      120
    But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
    Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
    That die unmarried, ere they can behold
    Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady
    Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and                          125
    The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
    The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
    To make you garlands of; and my sweet friend,
    To strew him o'er and o'er!

    _Flo._                    What, like a corse?

    _Per._ No, like a bank for love to lie and play on;              130
    Not like a corse; or if, not to be buried,
    But quick and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers:
    Methinks I play as I have seen them do
    In Whitsun pastorals: sure this robe of mine
    Does change my disposition.

    _Flo._                    What you do                            135
    Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
    I'ld have you do it ever: when you sing,
    I'ld have you buy and sell so, so give alms,
    Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs,
    To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you                  140
    A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
    Nothing but that; move still, still so,
    And own no other function: each your doing,
    So singular in each particular,
    Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,                  145
    That all your acts are queens.

    _Per._                         O Doricles,
    Your praises are too large: but that your youth,
    And the true blood which peeps fairly through 't,
    Do plainly give you out an unstain'd shepherd,
    With wisdom I might fear, my Doricles,                           150
    You woo'd me the false way.

    _Flo._                         I think you have
    As little skill to fear as I have purpose
    To put you to't. But come; our dance, I pray:
    Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair,
    That never mean to part.

    _Per._                    I'll swear for'em.                     155

    _Pol._ This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever
    Ran on the green-sward: nothing she does or seems
    But smacks of something greater than herself,
    Too noble for this place.

    _Cam._                    He tells her something
    That makes her blood look out: good sooth, she is                160
    The queen of curds and cream.

    _Clo._                    Come on, strike up!

    _Dor._ Mopsa must be your mistress: marry, garlic,
    To mend her kissing with!

    _Mop._                    Now, in good time!

    _Clo._ Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners.
    Come, strike up!                                                 165
          [_Music. Here a dance of Shepherds and Shepherdesses._

    _Pol._ Pray, good shepherd, what fair swain is this
    Which dances with your daughter?

    _Shep._ They call him Doricles; and boasts himself
    To have a worthy feeding: but I have it
    Upon his own report and I believe it;                            170
    He looks like sooth. He says he loves my daughter:
    I think so too; for never gazed the moon
    Upon the water, as he'll stand and read
    As 'twere my daughter's eyes: and, to be plain,
    I think there is not half a kiss to choose                       175
    Who loves another best.

    _Pol._                    She dances featly.

    _Shep._ So she does any thing; though I report it,
    That should be silent: if young Doricles
    Do light upon her, she shall bring him that
    Which he not dreams of.                                          180

_Enter_ Servant.

    _Serv._ O master, if you did but hear the pedlar at the
    door, you would never dance again after a tabor and pipe;
    no, the bagpipe could not move you: he sings several tunes
    faster than you'll tell money; he utters them as he had
    eaten ballads and all men's ears grew to his tunes.              185

    _Clo._ He could never come better; he shall come in. I
    love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter
    merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung
    lamentably.

    _Serv._ He hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes;            190
    no milliner can so fit his customers with gloves: he has the
    prettiest love-songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is
    strange; with such delicate burthens of dildos and fadings,
    'jump her and thump her;' and where some stretch-mouthed
    rascal would, as it were, mean mischief and break a foul         195
    gap into the matter, he makes the maid to answer 'Whoop,
    do me no harm, good man;' puts him off, slights him, with
    'Whoop, do me no harm, good man.'

    _Pol._ This is a brave fellow.

    _Clo._ Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited        200
    fellow. Has he any unbraided wares?

    _Serv._ He hath ribbons of all the colours i' the rainbow;
    points more than all the lawyers in Bohemia can learnedly
    handle, though they come to him by the gross: inkles, caddisses,
    cambrics, lawns: why, he sings 'em over as they                  205
    were gods or goddesses; you would think a smock were a
    she-angel, he so chants to the sleeve-hand and the work
    about the square on't.

    _Clo._ Prithee bring him in; and let him approach singing.

    _Per._ Forewarn him that he use no scurrilous words in's         210
    tunes.                                      [_Exit Servant._

    _Clo._ You have of these pedlars, that have more in them
    than you'ld think, sister.

    _Per._ Ay, good brother, or go about to think.

_Enter_ AUTOLYCUS, _singing._

      Lawn as white as driven snow;                                  215
      Cypress black as e'er was crow;
      Gloves as sweet as damask roses;
      Masks for faces and for noses;
      Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
      Perfume for a lady's chamber;                                  220
      Golden quoifs and stomachers,
      For my lads to give their dears;
      Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
      What maids lack from head to heel:
      Come buy of me, come; come buy, come buy;                      225
      Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry:
      Come buy.

    _Clo._ If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take
    no money of me; but being enthralled as I am, it will also
    be the bondage of certain ribbons and gloves.                    230

    _Mop._ I was promised them against the feast; but
    they come not too late now.

    _Dor._ He hath promised you more than that, or there
    be liars.

    _Mop._ He hath paid you all he promised you: may be, he          235
    has paid you more, which will shame you to give him again.

    _Clo._ Is there no manners left among maids? will they
    wear their plackets where they should bear their faces? Is
    there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole,
    to whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling    240
    before all our guests? 'tis well they are whispering:
    clamour your tongues, and not a word more.

    _Mop._ I have done. Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace
    and a pair of sweet gloves.

    _Clo._ Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the             245
    way and lost all my money?

    _Ant._ And indeed, sir, there are cozeners abroad; therefore
    it behoves men to be wary.

    _Clo._ Fear not thou, man, thou shall lose nothing here.

    _Ant._ I hope so, sir; for I have about me many parcels          250
    of charge.

    _Clo._ What hast here? ballads?

    _Mop._ Pray now, buy some: I love a ballad in print o'
    life, for then we are sure they are true.

    _Ant._ Here's one to a very doleful tune, how a usurer's         255
    wife was brought to bed of twenty money-bags at a burthen
    and how she longed to eat adders' heads and toads carbonadoed.

    _Mop._ Is it true, think you?

    _Ant._ Very true, and but a month old.                           260

    _Dor._ Bless me from marrying a usurer!

    _Ant._ Here's the midwife's name to't, one Mistress
    Tale-porter, and five or six honest wives that were present.
    Why should I carry lies abroad?

    _Mop._ Pray you now, buy it.                                     265

    _Clo._ Come on, lay it by: and let's first see moe ballads;
    we'll buy the other things anon.

    _Ant._ Here's another ballad of a fish, that appeared upon,
    the coast on Wednesday the fourscore of April, forty thousand
    fathom above water, and sung this ballad against the             270
    hard hearts of maids: it was thought she was a woman, and
    was turned into a cold fish for she would not exchange flesh
    with one that loved her: the ballad is very pitiful and as true.

    _Dor._ Is it true too, think you?

    _Ant._ Five justices' hands at it, and witnesses more            275
    than my pack will hold.

    _Clo._ Lay it by too: another.

    _Ant._ This is a merry ballad, but a very pretty one.

    _Mop._ Let's have some merry ones.

    _Ant._ Why, this is a passing merry one and goes to the          280
    tune of 'Two maids wooing a man:' there's scarce a maid
    westward but she sings it; 'tis in request, I can tell you.

    _Mop._ We can both sing it: if thou'lt bear a part, thou
    shalt hear; 'tis in three parts.

    _Dor._ We had the tune on't a month ago.                         285

    _Ant._ I can bear my part; you must know 'tis my
    occupation: have at it with you.

    SONG.

    _A._ Get you hence, for I must go
       Where it fits not you to know.
         _D._. Whither? _M._ O, whither? _D._ Whither?               290
    _M._ It becomes thy oath full well,
       Thou to me thy secrets tell:
         _D._ Me too, let me go thither.

    _M._ Or thou goest to the grange or mill:
    _D._ If to either, thou dost ill.                                295
         _A._ Neither. _D._ What, neither? _A._ Neither.
    _D._ Thou hast sworn my love to be;
    _M._ Thou hast sworn it more to me:
       Then whither goest? say, whither?

    _Clo._ We'll have this song out anon by ourselves: my            300
    father and the gentlemen are in sad talk, and we'll not
    trouble them. Come, bring away thy pack after me.
    Wenches, I'll buy for you both. Pedlar, let's have the
    first choice. Follow me, girls.
                                  [_Exit with Dorcas and Mopsa._

    _Ant._ And you shall pay well for 'em.   [_Follows singing._     305


    Will you buy any tape,
    Or lace for your cape,
    My dainty duck, my dear-a?
    Any silk, any thread,
    Any toys for your head,                                          310
    Of the new'st, and finest, finest wear-a?
    Come to the pedlar;
    Money's a medler,
    That doth utter all men's ware-a.                   [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ Servant.

    _Serv._ Master, there is three carters, three shepherds,         315
    three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves
    all men of hair, they call themselves Saltiers, and
    they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of
    gambols, because they are not in't; but they themselves
    are o' the mind, if it be not too rough for some that know       320
    little but bowling, it will please plentifully.

    _Shep._ Away! we'll none on't: here has been too much
    homely foolery already. I know, sir, we weary you.

    _Pol._ You weary those that refresh us: pray, let's see
    these four threes of herdsmen.                                   325

    _Serv._ One three of them, by their own report, sir, hath
    danced before the king; and not the worst of the three but
    jumps twelve foot and a half by the squier.

    _Shep._ Leave your prating: since these good men are
    pleased, let them come in; but quickly now.                      330

    _Serv._ Why, they stay at door, sir.                [_Exit._

               _Here a dance of twelve Satyrs._

    _Pol._ O, father, you'll know more of that hereafter.
    [_To Cam._] Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to part them.
    He's simple and tells much. How now, fair shepherd!
    Your heart is full of something that does take                   335
    Your mind from feasting. Sooth, when I was young
    And handed love as you do, I was wont
    To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd
    The pedlar's silken treasury and have pour'd it
    To her acceptance; you have let him go                           340
    And nothing marted with him. If your lass
    Interpretation should abuse and call this
    Your lack of love or bounty, you were straited
    For a reply, at least if you make a care
    Of happy holding her.

    _Flo._                    Old sir, I know                        345
    She prizes not such trifles as these are:
    The gifts she looks from me are pack'd and lock'd
    Up in my heart; which I have given already,
    But not deliver'd. O, hear me breathe my life
    Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem,                    350
    Hath sometime loved! I take thy hand, this hand,
    As soft as dove's down and as white as it,
    Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow that's bolted
    By the northern blasts twice o'er.

    _Pol._                         What follows this?
    How prettily the young swain seems to wash                       355
    The hand was fair before! I have put you out:
    But to your protestation; let me hear
    What you profess.

    _Flo._               Do, and be witness to't.

    _Pol._ And this my neighbour too?

    _Flo._                         And he, and more
    Than he, and men, the earth, the heavens, and all:               360
    That, were I crown'd the most imperial monarch,
    Thereof most worthy, were I the fairest youth
    That ever made eye swerve, had force and knowledge
    More than was ever man's, I would not prize them
    Without her love; for her employ them all;                       365
    Commend them and condemn them to her service
    Or to their own perdition.

    _Pol._                    Fairly offer'd.

    _Cam._ This shows a sound affection.

    _Shep._                             But, my daughter,
    Say you the like to him?

    _Per._                    I cannot speak
    So well, nothing so well; no, nor mean better:                   370
    By the pattern of mine own thoughts I cut out
    The purity of his.

    _Shep._              Take hands, a bargain!
    And, friends unknown, you shall bear witness to't:
    I give my daughter to him, and will make
    Her portion equal his.

    _Flo._                    O, that must be                        375
    I' the virtue of your daughter: one being dead,
    I shall have more than you can dream of yet;
    Enough then for your wonder. But, come on,
    Contract us 'fore these witnesses.

    _Shep._                        Come, your hand;
    And, daughter, yours.

    _Pol._               Soft, swain, awhile, beseech you;           380
    Have you a father?

    _Flo._               I have: but what of him?

    _Pol._ Knows he of this?

    _Flo._                    He neither does nor shall.

    _Pol._ Methinks a father
    Is at the nuptial of his son a guest
    That best becomes the table. Pray you once more,                 385
    Is not your father grown incapable
    Of reasonable affairs? is he not stupid
    With age and altering rheums? can he speak? hear?
    Know man from man? dispute his own estate?
    Lies he not bed-rid? and again does nothing                      390
    But what he did being childish?

    _Flo._          No, good sir;
    He has his health and ampler strength indeed
    Than most have of his age.

    _Pol._          By my white beard,
    You offer him, if this be so, a wrong
    Something unfilial: reason my son                                395
    Should choose himself a wife, but as good reason
    The father, all whose joy is nothing else
    But fair posterity, should hold some counsel
    In such a business.

    _Flo._               I yield all this;
    But for some other reasons, my grave sir,                        400
    Which 'tis not fit you know, I not acquaint
    My father of this business.

    _Pol._                    Let him know't.

    _Flo._ He shall not.

    _Pol._               Prithee, let him.

    _Flo._                              No, he must not.

    _Shep._ Let him, my son: he shall not need to grieve
    At knowing of thy choice.

    _Flo._                    Come, come, he must not.               405
    Mark our contract.

    _Pol._               Mark your divorce, young sir,
                                         [_Discovering himself._
    Whom son I dare not call; them art too base
    To be acknowledged: thou a sceptre's heir.
    That thus affects a sheep-hook! Thou old traitor,
    I am sorry that by hanging thee I can      410
    But shorten thy life one week. And them, fresh piece
    Of excellent witchcraft, who of force must know
    The royal fool them copest with,--

    _Shep._                        O, my heart!

    _Pol._ I'll have thy beauty scratch'd with briers, and made
    More homely than thy state. For thee, fond boy,                  415
    If I may ever know them dost but sigh
    That them no more shalt see this knack, as never
    I mean thou shalt, we'll bar thee from succession;
    Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin,
    Far than Deucalion off: mark thou my words:                      420
    Follow us to the court. Thou churl, for this time,
    Though full of our displeasure, yet we free thee
    From the dead blow of it. And you, enchantment,--
    Worthy enough a herdsman; yea, him too,
    That makes himself, but for our honour therein,                  425
    Unworthy thee,--if ever henceforth thou
    These rural latches to his entrance open,
    Or hoop his body more with thy embraces,
    I will devise a death as cruel for thee
    As thou art tender to't.                            [_Exit._

    _Per._                    Even here undone!                      430
    I was not much afeard; for once or twice
    I was about to speak and tell him plainly,
    The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
    Hides not his visage from our cottage, but
    Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone?                 435
    I told you what would come of this: beseech you,
    Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,--
    Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
    But milk my ewes and weep.

    _Cam._                    Why, how now, father!
    Speak ere thou diest.

    _Shep._                   I cannot speak, nor think,             440
    Nor dare to know that which I know. O sir!
    You have undone a man of fourscore three,
    That thought to fill his grave in quiet; yea,
    To die upon the bed my father died,
    To lie close by his honest bones: but now                        445
    Some hangman must put on my shroud and lay me
    Where no priest shovels in dust. O cursed wretch,
    That knew'st this was the prince, and wouldst adventure
    To mingle faith with him! Undone! undone!
    If I might die within this hour, I have lived                    450
    To die when I desire.                               [_Exit._

    _Flo._                    Why look you so upon me?
    I am but sorry, not afeard, delay'd,
    But nothing alter'd: what I was, I am;
    More straining on for plucking back, not following
    My leash unwillingly.

    _Cam._                    Gracious my lord,                      455
    You know your father's temper: at this time
    He will allow no speech, which I do guess
    You do not purpose to him; and as hardly
    Will he endure your sight as yet, I fear:
    Then, till the fury of his highness settle,                      460
    Come not before him.

    _Flo._               I not purpose it.
    I think, Camillo?

    _Cam._               Even he, my lord.

    _Per._ How often have I told you 'twould be thus!
    How often said, my dignity would last
    But till 'twere known!

    _Flo._                    It cannot fail but by                  465
    The violation of my faith; and then
    Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together
    And mar the seeds within! Lift up thy looks:
    From my succession wipe me, father, I
    Am heir to my affection.

    _Cam._                    Be advised.                            470

    _Flo._ I am, and by my fancy: if my reason
    Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;
    If not, my senses, better pleased with madness,
    Do bid it welcome.

    _Cam._               This is desperate, sir.


    _Flo._ So call it: but it does fulfil my vow;                    475
    I needs must think it honesty. Camillo,
    Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
    Be thereat glean'd; for all the sun sees, or
    The close earth wombs, or the profound sea hides
    In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath                         480
    To this my fair beloved: therefore, I pray you,
    As you have ever been my father's honour'd friend,
    When he shall miss me,--as, in faith, I mean not
    To see him any more,--cast your good counsels
    Upon his passion: let myself and fortune                         485
    Tug for the time to come. This you may know
    And so deliver, I am put to sea
    With her whom here I cannot hold on shore;
    And most opportune to our need I have
    A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared                         490
    For this design. What course I mean to hold
    Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
    Concern me the reporting.

    _Cam._                    O my lord!
    I would your spirit were easier for advice,
    Or stronger for your need.

    _Flo._                    Hark, Perdita.                         495
                                           [_Drawing her aside._
    I'll hear you by and by.

    _Cam._                    He's irremoveable,
    Resolved for flight. Now were I happy, if
    His going I could frame to serve my turn,
    Save him from danger, do him love and honour,
    Purchase the sight again of dear Sicilia                         500
    And that unhappy king, my master, whom
    I so much thirst to see.

    _Flo._                    Now, good Camillo;
    I am so fraught with curious business that
    I leave out ceremony.

    _Cam._                    Sir, I think
    You have heard of my poor services, i' the love                  505
    That I have borne your father?

    _Flo._                         Very nobly
    Have you deserved: it is my father's music
    To speak your deeds, not little of his care
    To have them recompensed as thought on.

    _Cam._                         Well, my lord,
    If you may please to think I love the king,                      510
    And through him what is nearest to him, which is
    Your gracious self, embrace but my direction,
    If your more ponderous and settled project
    May suffer alteration, on mine honour
    I'll point you where you shall have such receiving               515
    As shall become your highness; where you may
    Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,
    There's no disjunction to be made, but by
    As heavens forefend! your ruin; marry her,
    And, with my best endeavours in your absence,                    520
    Your discontenting father strive to qualify
    And bring him up to liking.

    _Flo._                    How, Camillo,
    May this, almost a miracle, be done?
    That I may call thee something more than man
    And after that trust to thee.

    _Cam._                    Have you thought on                    525
    A place whereto you'll go?

    _Flo._                     Not any yet:
    But as the unthought-on accident is guilty
    To what we wildly do, so we profess
    Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies
    Of every wind that blows.

    _Cam._                    Then list to me:                       530
    This follows, if you will not change your purpose
    But undergo this flight, make for Sicilia,
    And there present yourself and your fair princess,
    For so I see she must be, 'fore Leontes:
    She shall be habited as it becomes                               535
    The partner of your bed. Methinks I see
    Leontes opening his free arms and weeping
    His welcomes forth; asks thee the son forgiveness,
    As 'twere i' the father's person; kisses the hands
    Of your fresh princess; o'er and o'er divides him                540
    'Twixt his unkindness and his kindness; the one
    He chides to hell and bids the other grow
    Faster than thought or time.

    _Flo._                         Worthy Camillo,
    What colour for my visitation shall I
    Hold up before him?

    _Cam._               Sent by the king your father                545
    To greet him and to give him comforts. Sir,
    The manner of your bearing towards him, with
    What you as from your father shall deliver,
    Things known betwixt us three, I 'll write you down:
    The which shall point you forth at every sitting                 550
    What you must say; that he shall not perceive
    But that you have your father's bosom there
    And speak his very heart.

    _Flo._                    I am bound to you:
    There is some sap in this.

    _Cam._                    A course more promising
    Than a wild dedication of yourselves                             555
    To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores, most certain
    To miseries enough: no hope to help you,
    But as you shake off one to take another:
    Nothing so certain as your anchors, who
    Do their best office, if they can but stay you                   560
    Where you'll be loath to be: besides you know
    Prosperity's the very bond of love,
    Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together
    Affliction alters.

    _Per._               One of these is true:
    I think affliction may subdue the cheek,                         565
    But not take in the mind.

    _Cam._                    Yea, say you so?
    There shall not at your father's house these seven years
    Be'born another such.

    _Flo._               My good Camillo,
    She is as forward of her breeding as
    She is i' the rear o' our birth.

    _Cam._                         I cannot say 'tis pity            570
    She lacks instructions, for she seems a mistress
    To most that teach.

    _Per._              Your pardon, sir; for this
    I'll blush you thanks.

    _Flo._                    My prettiest Perdita!
    But O, the thorns we stand upon! Camillo,
    Preserver of my father, now of me,                               575
    The medicine of our house, how shall we do?
    We are not furnish'd like Bohemia's son,
    Nor shall appear in Sicilia.

    _Cam._                         My lord,
    Fear none of this: I think you know my fortunes
    Do all lie there: it shall be so my care                         580
    To have you royally appointed as if
    The scene you play were mine. For instance, sir,
    That you may know you shall not want, one word.
                                             [_They talk aside._

_Re-enter_ AUTOLYCUS.

    _Aut._ Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his
    sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all          585
    my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass,
    pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove,
    shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting:
    they throng who should buy first, as if my trinkets had been
    hallowed and brought a benediction to the buyer: by which        590
    means I saw whose purse was best in picture; and what I
    saw, to my good use I remembered. My clown, who wants
    but something to be a reasonable man, grew so in love with
    the wenches' song, that he would not stir his pettitoes till
    he had both tune and words; which so drew the rest of the        595
    herd to me, that all their other senses stuck in ears: you
    might have pinched a placket, it was senseless; 'twas nothing
    to geld a codpiece of a purse; I would have filed keys off
    that hung-in chains: no hearing, no feeling, but my sir's
    song, and admiring the nothing of it. So that in this time       600
    of lethargy I picked and cut most of their festival purses;
    and had not the old man come in with a whoo-bub against
    his daughter and the king's son and scared my choughs
    from the chaff, I had not left a purse alive in the whole army.
                 [_Camillo, Florizel, and Perdita come forward._

    _Cam._ Nay, but my letters, by this means being there            605
    So soon as you arrive, shall clear that doubt.

    _Flo._ And those that you'll procure from King Leontes--

    _Cam._ Shall satisfy your father.

    _Per._                         Happy be you!
    All that you speak shows fair.

    _Cam._               Who have we here?  [_Seeing Autolycus._
    We'll make an instrument of this; omit                           610
    Nothing may give us aid.

    _Aut._ If they have overheard me now, why, hanging.

    _Cam._ How now, good fellow! why shakest thou so?
    Fear not, man; here's no harm intended to thee.

    _Aut._ I am a poor fellow, sir.                                  615

    _Cam._ Why, be so still; here's nobody will steal that
    from thee: yet for the outside of thy poverty we must
    make an exchange; therefore discase thee instantly,--thou
    must think there's a necessity in't,--and change garments
    with this gentleman: though the pennyworth on his side be        620
    the worst, yet hold thee, there's some boot.

    _Aut._ I am a poor fellow, sir. [_Aside_] I know ye well
    enough.

    _Cam._ Nay, prithee, dispatch: the gentleman is half
    flayed already.                                                  625

    _Aut._ Are you in earnest, sir? [_Aside_] I smell the
    trick on't.

    _Flo._ Dispatch, I prithee.

    _Aut._ Indeed, I have had earnest; but I cannot with
    conscience take it.                                              630

    _Cam._ Unbuckle, unbuckle.
                    [_Florizel and Autolycus exchange garments._
    Fortunate mistress,--let my prophecy
    Come home to ye!--you must retire yourself
    Into some covert: take your sweetheart's hat
    And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,                  635
    Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
    The truth of your own seeming; that you may--
    For I do fear eyes over--to shipboard
    Get undescried.

    _Per._               I see the play so lies
    That I must bear a part.                                         640

    _Cam._               No remedy.
    Have you done there?

    _Flo._               Should I now meet my father,
    He would not call me son.

    _Cam._               Nay, you shall have no hat.
                                        [_Giving it to Perdita._
    Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.

    _Aut._                              Adieu, sir.

    _Flo._ O Perdita, what have we twain forgot!
    Pray you, a word.                                                645

    _Cam._ [_Aside_] What I do next, shall be to tell the king
    Of this escape and whither they are bound;
    Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
    To force him after: in whose company
    I shall review Sicilia, for whose sight                          650
    I have a woman's longing.

    _Flo._                    Fortune speed us!
    Thus we set on, Camillo, to the sea-side.

    _Cam._ The swifter speed the better.
                       [_Exeunt Florizel, Perdita, and Camillo._

    _Aut._ I understand the business, I hear it: to have an
    open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a     655
    cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work
    for the other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust
    man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been without
    boot! What a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the
    gods do this year connive at us, and we may do any thing         660
    extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of iniquity,
    stealing away from his father with his clog at his
    heels: if I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the
    king withal, I would not do't: I hold it the more knavery
    to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my profession.       665

_Re-enter_ Clown _and_ Shepherd.

    Aside, aside; here is more matter for a hot brain: every
    lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a
    careful man work.

    _Clo._ See, see; what a man you are now! There is no
    other way but to tell the king she's a changeling and none       670
    of your flesh and blood.

    _Shep._ Nay, but hear me.

    _Clo._ Nay, but hear me.

    _Shep._ Go to, then.

    _Clo._ She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh        675
    and blood has not offended the king; and so your flesh and
    blood is not to be punished by him. Show those things
    you found about her, those secret things, all but what she
    has with her: this being done, let the law go whistle: I
    warrant you.                                                     680

    _Shep._ I will tell the king all, every word, yea, and his
    son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man, neither
    to his father nor to me, to go about to make me the king's
    brother-in-law.

    _Clo._ Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you           685
    could have been to him and then your blood had been the
    dearer by I know how much an ounce.

    _Aut._ [_Aside_] Very wisely, puppies!

    _Shep._ Well, let us to the king: there is that in this
    fardel will make him scratch his beard.                          690

    _Aut._ [_Aside_] I know not what impediment this complaint
    may be to the flight of my master.

    _Clo._ Pray heartily he be at palace.

    _Aut._ [_Aside_] Though I am not naturally honest, I am
    so sometimes by chance: let me pocket up my pedlar's             695
    excrement. [_Takes off his false beard._] How now, rustics!
    whither are you bound?

    _Shep._ To the palace, an it like your worship.

    _Aut._ Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition
    of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names,          700
    your ages, of what having, breeding, and any thing that is
    fitting to be known, discover.

    _Clo._ We are but plain fellows, sir.

    _Aut._ A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no
    lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us     705
    soldiers the lie: but we pay them for it with stamped coin,
    not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie.

    _Clo._ Your worship had like to have given us one, if you
    had not taken yourself with the manner.

    _Shep._ Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir?                  710

    _Aut._ Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest
    thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? hath not
    my gait in it the measure of the court? receives not thy
    nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy baseness
    court-contempt? Thinkest thou, for that I insinuate, or          715
    toaze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I
    am courtier cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on or
    pluck back thy business there: whereupon I command thee
    to open thy affair.

    _Shep._ My business, sir, is to the king.                        720

    _Aut._ What advocate hast thou to him?

    _Shep._ I know not, an't like you.

    _Clo._ Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant: say you
    have none.

    _Shep._ None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen.             725

    _Aut._ How blessed are we that are not simple men!
    Yet nature might have made me as these are,
    Therefore I will not disdain.

    _Clo._ This cannot be but a great courtier.

    _Shep._ His garments are rich, but he wears them not             730
    handsomely.

    _Clo._ He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical:
    a great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on's teeth,

    _Aut._ The fardel there? what's i' the fardel? Wherefore
    that box?                                                        735

    _Shep._ Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box,
    which none must know but the king; and which he shall
    know within this hour, if I may come to the speech of him.

    _Aut._ Age, thou hast lost thy labour.

    _Shep._ Why, sir?                                                740

    _Aut._ The king is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a
    new ship to purge melancholy and air himself: for, if thou
    beest capable of things serious, thou must know the king is
    full of grief.

    _Shep._ So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have       745
    married a shepherd's daughter.

    _Aut._ If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly:
    the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will
    break the back of man, the heart of monster.

    _Clo._ Think you so, sir?                                        750

    _Aut._ Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy
    and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to him,
    though removed fifty times, shall all come under the hangman:
    which though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An
    old sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have his    755
    daughter come into grace! Some say he shall be stoned; but
    that death is too soft for him, say I: draw our throne into
    a sheep-cote! all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy.

    _Clo._ Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an't
    like you, sir?                                                   760

    _Ant._ He has a son, who shall be flayed alive; then
    'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest;
    then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then
    recovered again with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion;
    then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication       765
    proclaims, shall he be set against a brick-wall, the sun
    looking with a southward eye upon him, where he is to
    behold him with flies blown to death. But what talk we of
    these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smiled at,
    their offences being so capital? Tell me, for you seem to be     770
    honest plain men, what you have to the king: being something
    gently considered, I'll bring you where he is aboard,
    tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your
    behalfs; and if it be in man besides the king to effect your
    suits, here is man shall do it.                                  775

    _Clo._ He seems to be of great authority: close with
    him, give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn
    bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold: show the inside
    of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more
    ado. Remember 'stoned,' and 'flayed alive.'                      780

    _Shep._ An't please you, sir, to undertake the business
    for us, here is that gold I have: I'll make it as much more
    and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you.

    _Aut._ After I have done what I promised?

    _Shep._ Ay, sir.                                                 785

    _Aut._ Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this
    business?

    _Clo._ In some sort, sir: but though my case be a pitiful
    one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it.

    _Aut._ O, that's the case of the shepherd's son: hang            790
    him, he'll be made an example.

    _Clo._ Comfort, good comfort! We must to the king and
    show our strange sights: he must know 'tis none of your
    daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give
    you as much as this old man does when the business is            795
    performed, and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be
    brought you.

    _Aut._ I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side;
    go on the right hand: I will but look upon the hedge and
    follow you.                                                      800

    _Clo._ We are blest in this man, as I may say, even
    blest.

    _Shep._ Let's before as he bids us: he was provided to
    do us good.                    [_Exeunt Shepherd and Clown._

    _Aut._ If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would         805
    not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted
    now with a double occasion, gold and a means to do the
    prince my master good; which who knows how that may
    turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two
    moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to       810
    shore them again and that the complaint they have to the
    king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for
    being so far officious; for I am proof against that title and
    what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present them:
    there may be matter in it.                          [_Exit._     815


LINENOTES:

  SCENE IV.] SCENE III. Capell.

  The Shepherd's cottage.] The prospect of a Shepherd's Cotte. Theobald.
  A Room in the Shepherd's House. Capell.

  Enter F. and P.] Rowe. Enter F., P., Shepherd, Clowne, Polixenes,
  Camillo, Mopsa, Dorcas, Servants, Autolicus. Ff.

  [2] _Do_] Theobald. _Do's_ Ff. _Does_ Rowe.

  [4] _Is as_] _Is_ Rowe.

  _a meeting_] F1. _a merry meeting_ F2 F3 F4.

  [5] _Sir_] _Sure_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [12] _Digest it_] F2 F3 F4. _Digest_ F1.

  [12, 13] _custom, I should blush ... think,_] _custom (sworn I think)
  To see you so attired, I should blush_ Steevens conj.

  [13] _sworn_] F3 F4. _sworne_ F1 F2. _swoon_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).
  _scorn_ Mitford conj. _so worn_ Collier (Jackson conj.).

  [13, 14] _sworn, I think ... glass_] _swoon, I think, To see myself i'
  the glass_ Theobald conj. _and more I think ... a glass_ Ingleby conj.
  _frown, I think, ... a glass or sorely shrink ... i' th' glass_ or
  _more, I think ... a glass or more, I think ... i' th' glass_ Bailey
  conj.

  [22] _Vilely_] Hanmer. _Vildly_ Ff.

  [28] _the green_] _sea green_ Anon. conj.

  [31, 32] _now. Their ... beauty rarer,_] Rowe. _now. Their ... beauty,
  rarer,_ Ff. _now_:--_Their ... beauty rarer,--_ Dyce.

  [33] _in a way_] _any way_ Collier (Ritson conj.).

  [35] _faith_] _faith does_ Keightley conj.

  _sir_] F1. _deere sir_ F2. _dear sir_ F3 F4.

  [38] _must be necessities_] _necessities must be_ Hanmer.

  [40] _dearest_] F3 F4. _deer'st_ F1. _deerest_ F2.

  [46] _gentle_] _gentlest_ Hanmer. _girl_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [49] _your_] _you_ F4.

  _it were_] _'twere_ Pope.

  [54] Enter....] Enter All. F2 F3 F4 (after _auspicious!_ line 52). om.
  F1.

  [55] SCENE V. Pope.

  [60] _and_] _and on_ Keightley conj.

  [61] _thing_] _things_ F4.

  [68] _come on_] Pol. _Come on_ Theobald conj.

  [70] [To Pol.] _Sir, welcome_] Malone. _Sir, welcome_, Ff. _Sirs,
  welcome_ [To Polix. and Cam. Rowe. _Sirs, you're welcome_ [To Pol. and
  Cam. Hanmer. _Welcome, sir_ Capell.

  [72] [To Cam.] Malone.

  _sir_] _sirs_ Rowe.

  [76] _to you_] _unto you_ Pope.

  [78, 79] _well ... winter._] _will ... winter?_ Staunton conj.

  [81] _fairest_] _fair'st_ S. Walker conj.

  [82] _gillyvors_] _Gilly-vors_ Ff. _giily-flowers_ Rowe. See note
  (XIV).

  [83] _call_] _cail_ F2.

  [84] _garden's_] F2 F3 F4. _gardens_ F1.

  [90] _over_] _o'er_ Capell. _ever_ or _e'er_ Anon. conj. _even_ Craik
  conj.

  [93] _scion_] Steevens (1793). _sien_ Ff. _scyon_ Pope, _scyen_
  Capell. _cyon_ Steevens (1778).

  _wildest_] _wilder_ Anon. conj.

  [98] _your_] _you_ F1.

  _gillyvors_] _Gilly 'vors_ Ff. _gillyflowers_ Rowe.

  [104] _mints_] _mint_ S. Walker conj. (withdrawn).

  [105] _wi' the_] Capell. _with'_ Ff. _with th_' Rowe.

  [108] _You're_] _Y'are_ Ff.

  _very welcome_] _welcome_ F4.

  [112] _my fair'st friend_] Ff. _my fairest friends_ Rowe (ed. 2).
  _fairest friend_ Hanmer.

  [118] _Dis's_] _Dysses_ F1. _Disses_ F2 F3 F4.

  _daffodils_] _early daffodils_ Hanmer. _golden daffodils_ Coleridge
  conj. _yellow daffodils_ Keightley conj.

  [125] _bold_] _gold_ Hanmer.

  [127] _flower-de-luce_] _flower-de-lis_ Rowe.

  [134] _Whitsun_] Johnson. _Whitson_ Ff. _Whitsund'_ Hanmer.

  [137, 138] _I'ld_] F1 F2 F3. _I'le_ F4. _I'll_ Rowe.

  [142] _move_] _but so move_ Keightley conj.

  _still so_] _still so, my fair_ Capell.

  [142, 143] _still so, And own no_] _still so, and own No_ Malone.

  [145] _you are_] _you're_ Pope.

  _deeds_] _deed_ Spedding conj.

  [146] _queens_] _queen's_ Singer.

  [148] _peeps ... through't_] F3 F4. _peepes ... through't_ F1 F2.
  _peeps forth ... through it_ Rowe. _peeps so ... through t'_ Capell.
  _fairly peeps through it_ Steevens (1793). _peeps ... through it_
  Collier. _through it ... peeps_ Staunton conj. _peepeth ... through't_
  Anon. conj.

  [152] _to fear_] _in fear_ Hanmer.

  [155, 156] _Per. I'll ... 'em._ Pol. _This_] Pol. [Aside] _I'll ...
  This_ Johnson conj.

  [155] _I'll swear_] _Elsewhere_ Jackson conj.

  _for 'em_] _for them_ [Music. Dance forming. Capell. _for one_ Rann
  (Theobald and Ritson conj.).

  [157] _green-sward_] Steevens. _greensord_ Ff.

  _seems_] _says_ Collier (Collier MS.). _deems_ Anon. conj.

  [160] _makes ... out_] _wakes her blood: look on't_ Collier (Collier
  MS.).

  _look out_] Theobald. _look on't_ Ff.

  [162, 163] Arranged as in Capell. As prose in Ff.

  _marry, garlic, To ... with!_] _marry Garlick to ... with._ Ff.
  _marry, garlick to ... with--_ Johnson.

  [165] _strike up_] _strike up, pipers_ Capell, ending lines 166, 167
  _at what ... daughter?_

  [165] [Music.] Malone. om. Ff.

  [166] _Pray_] _I pray_ Hanmer. _Pray you_ S. Walker conj.

  [167] _Which_] _Who_ Pope.

  [168] _and boasts_] _and he boasts_ Rowe. _he boasts_ Capell. _'a
  boasts_ Steevens conj.

  [169] _feeding_] _breeding_ Hanmer.

  _but I have it_] _I have it but_ Hunter conj.

  [176] _Who loves another_] _Which loves the other_ Hanmer. _Who loves
  the other_ Mason conj.

  [177] _So she_] _She_ Warburton.

  [181] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [185] _grew_] _grow_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [193] _fadings_] _fapings_ Rowe (ed. 2). _fa-dings_ Theobald.

  [196] _gap_] _jape_ Singer (Collier MS.).

  [200] _admirable conceited_] Ff. _admirable-conceited_ Theobald.

  [201] _unbraided_] _braided_ Johnson conj. _embroided_ Collier
  (Collier MS.).

  _wares_] _warres_ F2.

  [206] _or_] _and_ Pope.

  [207] _sleeve-hand_] _sleeve-band_ Hanmer. _Silesia_ or _sleasie
  holland_ Peck conj.

  [211] Exit....] Capell.

  [212] _them_] _'em_ Warburton.

  [216] _Cypress_] _Cyprus_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [219] _Bugle bracelet_] _Bugle-bracelets_ F4.

  [225] _come;_] _come buy;_ Keightley conj.

  [226, 227] _Buy ... Come buy._] _Buy ... Come buy, &c._ Theobald. As
  one line in Ff.

  [238] _bear_] _wear_ Warburton.

  [239, 240] _kiln-hole_] Malone. _kill-hole_ Ff.

  [240] _whistle off_] Hanmer. _whistle of_ Ff. _whisper off_ Collier
  MS.

  [242] _clamour_] _charm_ Hanmer. _chamber_ Jackson conj. _chommer_
  Cornish conj. _clammer_ Keightley conj. _chawmer_ Singer conj.

  [253] _ballad_] F3 F4. _ballet_ F1 F2.

  [253, 254] _o' life_] _o'-life_ Collier, _a life_ Ff. _or a life_ Rowe
  (ed. 2). _a'-life_ Malone.

  [256] _of_] F1 F2. _with_ F3 F4.

  _burthen_] _birth_ Anon. conj.

  [262] _midwife's_] Rowe. _midwives_ Ff.

  [263] _wives_] _wives'_ Steevens. See note (xv).

  [266] _moe_] _more_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [268] _ballad of_] Ff. _ballad, Of_ Capell.

  [269] _Wednesday_] _Wensday_ F1 F2.

  [270] _fathom_] Johnson, _fadom_ Ff.

  [272] _cold_] _cod_ Anon conj.

  [288] SONG] See note (XVI).

  [289] _Where it_] _Whither_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [290, 299] _whither_] F4. _whether_ F1 F2 F3.

  [293] _thither_] F3 F4. _thether_ F1 F2.

  [301] _gentlemen_] Rowe. _Gent._ Ff.

  [304] Exit....] Dyce om. Ff. Exeunt Cl., A., D., and M. Rowe (after
  line 314).

  [305] [Follows singing.] Edd. Song. Ff.

  [306-314] As six lines in Ff.

  [306] _buy_] _by_ Pope (ed. i).

  [307] _cape_] _crpe_ F1.

  [309] _Any ... any_] _And ... and_ Theobald.

  [311] _wear-a_] _ware-a_ Rowe.

  [315] SCENE VII. Pope.

  Re-enter....] Enter a Servant. Rowe.

  _Master_] _Mayster_ F1.

  _there is_] _there are_ Rowe.

  _carters_] _goatherds_ Theobald.

  [316] _three swine-herds_] _and three swine-herds_ Rowe.

  [328] _squier_] _squire_ Ff. _square_ Rowe. See note (XVII).

  [331] Serv. _Why ... sir_] Ff. Omitted by Rowe and all Edd. before
  Capell.

  [Exit.] Capell.

  Here....] Ff. Enter twelve Rusticks, presenting Satyrs. Company seat
  themselves. Dance, and Exeunt Rusticks. Capell.

  [332, 333] Pol. _O, father ... Is it_] Flo. _O, father ... hereafter_
  (Here a dance of twelve Satyrs). Pol. _Is it_ Hanmer.

  [332] [Aside. Johnson. [Rising from beside the Shepherd. Capell.

  [333] [To Cam.] Edd [Aside. Capell.

  [337] _handed_] _handled_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [344] _reply, at least_] _reply, at least,_ Theobald, _reply at
  least_, Ff.

  _a care_] _care_ Theobald.

  [349] _life_] _love_ Theobald.

  [350] _who_] _whom_ F1.

  [353, 354] _Or ... o'er_] Arranged as in F1. In F2 F3 F4 line 353 ends
  at _snow_.

  [353] _Ethiopian's_] _Ethiop's_ Dyce conj. _Ethiop_ Lettsom conj.

  [354] _blasts_] F1. _blast_ F2 F3 F4.

  [356] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.

  [360] _the heavens_] _and heavens_ F4.

  [363] _force_] _sense_ Collier MS.

  [369] _him?_] Rowe. _him._ Ff.

  [378] _your_] _you_ F4.

  [380] _awhile, beseech you;_] Capell. _a-while, beseech you,_ F1.
  _a-while; 'beseech you,_ F2 F3 F4.

  [389] _dispute_] _compute_ Johnson conj. _dispose_ Collier MS.
  _dispense_ Anon. conj.

  [395] _my_] _the_ Anon. conj.

  [406] [_Discovering ..._] Rowe.

  [408] _acknowledged_] _acknowledge_ F1.

  [409] _affects_] Ff. _affect'st_ Pope.

  [410] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [410, 411] _can But shorten_] _can but Shorten_ Warburton.

  [412] _who_] _whom_ F1.

  [413] _copest with,_--] _coap'st with_-- Pope. _coap'st with._ Ff.

  Shep.] Per. Theobald conj.

  [415] _fond_] _found_ F4.

  [417] _shalt_] Rowe. _shalt never_ Ff. See note (XVIII).

  [420] _Far than_] F4. _Farre then_ F1. _Farre than_ F2 F3. _Less than_
  Hanmer. _Far' than_ Warburton. _Far as_ Capell (Johnson conj.).
  _Farther than_ Heath conj. _Far'r than_ Grant White.

  [423] _dead_] _dread_ Anon. conj.

  _you_] _your_ F3 F4. _thou_ Anon. conj.

  [426] _thee,--if_] thee. _If_ Ff.

  [428] _hoop_] _hoope_ Pope. _hope_ Ff.

  [430] _to't_] _to it_ Rowe.

  [Exit.] Rowe.

  SCENE VIII. Pope.

  [431] _afeard_] _afraid_ Rowe.

  [435] _on_] _on both_ Malone conj. _on all_

  Singer (Hunter conj.). _on's_ Anon. conj.

  _Will't_] Hanmer. _Wilt_ Ff.

  [To Flo. Rowe.

  [437] _this dream of mine,_--] Johnson. _this dream of mine,_ Ff.
  _from this my dream_ Hanmer. _as for this dream of mine,_-- Capell
  conj.

  [441] [To Flo. Rowe.

  [444] _died_] _died on_ Keightley conj.

  [447] [To Perdita. Rowe.

  [451] SCENE IX. Pope.

  _upon me_] om. Steevens conj.

  [452] _afeard_] _afraid_ Rowe.

  [456] _your_] _my_ F1.

  [459] _sight as yet_] Hanmer. _sight, as yet_ Ff.

  [462] _Camillo?_] _Camillo?_-- Johnson. _Camillo._ Ff. _Camillo_--
  Theobald.

  [465] _fail_] _fall_ Anon. conj.

  [469] _my_] _thy_ Capell.

  [473] _better pleased with madness,_] F1. _better (pleas'd with
  madness)_ F2 F3 F4.

  [478] _thereat_] _thereout_ Hanmer.

  _all_] F1. _all that_ F2 F3 F4.

  _or_] om. Long MS.

  [479] _sea hides_] Capell. _seas hides_ F1. _seas hide_ F2 F3 F4.

  [480] _fathoms_] Johnson. _fadomes_ Ff.

  [482] _As you have ever_] Ff. _As you have e'er_ Malone. _As y' have
  e'er_ S. Walker conj.

  _honour'd_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.

  [488] _whom_] F2 F3 F4. _who_ F1.

  [489] _our_] Theobald. _her_ Ff. _the_ Capell.

  [495] [Drawing....] Capell.

  [496] [To Camillo. Theobald.

  _irremoveable_] _immovable_ Anon. conj.

  [497] _Resolved_] _Rosolv'd_ F2.

  [503] _curious_] _serious_ Collier MS.

  [504] [Going. Malone. See note (XIX).

  [511] _through him what is_] Hanmer. _through him, what's_ Ff.
  _thorough him, what's_ Theobald.

  _nearest_] _near'st_ S. Walker conj.

  [514] _alteration, on_] _alteration. On_ F1. _alteration: On_ F2 F3
  F4.

  [520] _And_] _I'll_ Long MS.

  [521] _discontenting_] _discontented_ Rowe.

  _strive to qualify_] _I'll strive to qualifie_ Rowe (ed. 2). _I will
  strive To qualifie_ Hanmer.

  [522] _him up_] om. Rowe.

  [528] _To_] Of Rowe. _Towards_ Hanmer.

  [538] _asks_] _ask_ Long MS.

  _thee the son_] F3 F4. _thee there Sonne_ F1 F2. _there the son_
  Ritson conj.

  [539] _kisses_] _kiss_ Long MS.

  [540] _divides_] _divide_ Long MS.

  [546] _comforts_] _comfort_ Anon conj.

  [550] _sitting_] _fitting_ Theobald. _sifting_ Thirlby conj.

  [558, 559] _another: Nothing_] _another Nothing_ Hanmer.

  [559] _who_] _which_ Hanmer.

  [569] _She is_] Pope. _She's_ Ff.

  [570] _She is i' the rear o' our birth_] Rowe (ed. 2). _She is i' th'
  reare 'our birth_ F1 F2 F3. _She is i' th' reare 'our birth_ F4. _She
  is i' the rear o' her birth_ Rowe (ed. 1). _I' th' rear of birth_
  Hanmer. _She is i' th' rear of birth_ Johnson. _She is i' the rear our
  birth_ Boswell. _She is i' th' rear'f our birth_ Grant White.

  [572] _sir; for this_] Hanmer. _sir, for this,_ F1. _sir, for this,_
  F2 F3 F4.

  [576] _medicine_] _medecin_ Theobald conj.

  [578] _appear in Sicilia._] _appeare in Sicilia._ F1. _appeare in
  Sicily._ F2. _appear in Sicily._ F3 F4. _appear in Sicily_-- Rowe.
  _appear in Sicilia_-- Boswell. _appear't in Sicilia._ Collier (Collier
  MS.). _appear so in Sicilia._ Staunton conj.

  [582] _mine_] _true_ Collier MS.

  [583] [They talk aside.] Rowe.

  [587] _brooch_] Steevens. _browch_ Ff. _broch_ Capell.

  [588] _fasting_] F1. _fastning_ F2 F3 F4.

  [589] _throng_] _thronged_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [591] _picture_] _pasture_ Anon. conj.

  [592] _My clown_] _My good clown_ Rowe.

  [594] _wenches'_] Johnson. _wenches_ Ff.

  [596] _ears_] _their ears_ Rann (Mason conj.).

  [598] _would_] _could_ Long MS.

  _filed keys off_] F3 F4. _fill'd keyes of_ F1 F2.

  [600] _nothing_] _noting_ Anon. conj.

  [604] [Camillo....] Theobald.

  [607] _Leontes_--] Rowe. _Leontes?_ Ff.

  [609] _Who_] _Whom_ Collier.

  [Seeing A.] Theobald.

  [612] [Aside. Theobald.

  [613, 614] As three lines in Ff, ending _fellow ... man ... thee_; as
  prose first in Malone.

  [613] _why_] _come, why_ Hanmer. _wherefore_ Capell, reading 613, 614
  as two lines of verse.

  [619] _a necessity_] _necessity_ Steevens.

  [621] [Giving money. Dyce.

  [622, 626] [Aside]. Indicated by brackets in Ff.

  [624] _dispatch ... gentleman is_] _now dispatch ... gentleman_ 'S
  Capell, reading as verse.

  [625] _flayed_] _fled_ Ff. _flead_ Rowe.

  [631] [Florizel....] Capell.

  [635] _your_] _thy_ Boswell.

  [638] _over_] _over you_ Rowe. _ever_ Collier (Egerton and Collier
  MS.). _overt_ Jervis conj.

  [642, 643] _no hat ... friend_] As one line in Hanmer.

  [642] [Giving....] Capell.

  [643] _Adieu, sir._] _Adieu, sir._ [retiring, Capell.

  [645] [Talking with her aside. Capell.

  [646] [Aside] Rowe.

  [649] _whose_] _his_ Anon. conj.

  [653] [Exeunt....] Capell. Exit Ff. Exit Flo and Per. (after 652).
  Exit (after line 653) Rowe.

  [654] SCENE XI. Pope.

  _hear_] _heard_ Hanmer.

  [663, 664] _thought it were ... would not do't_] _thought it were not
  ... would do't_ Hanmer. _thought not it were ... would do't_ Capell.

  [665] Re-enter....] Dyce. Enter.... Ff.

  [666] _here is_] F1 F2. _here's_ F3 F4.

  [677] _those_] _these_ Theobald.

  [687] _know_] _know not_ Hanmer.

  [688] [Aside] Rowe.

  [690, 700] _fardel_] Steevens. _Farthell_ F1 F2 F3. _Farthel_ F4. And
  passim.

  [691, 694] [Aside] So marked by Capell.

  [693] _at palace_] _at 'Pallace_ F1. _at Pallace_ F2 F3 F4. _at the
  palace_ Rowe. See note (XX).

  [696] [Takes off....] Steevens (1793).

  [698] _an_] Hanmer. _and_ Ff.

  [701] _ages_] _age_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [702] _to be_] _for to be_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [707] _not stabbing_] _note-stabbing_ Theobald conj.

  _not give_] _give_ Hanmer.

  [709] _manner_] _manour_ Hanmer.

  [710] _an't_] Hanmer. _and't_ F1 F2 F3. _and'_ F4. and Rowe.

  [715] _or_] F2 F3 F4. _at_ F1. _to_ Capell. _and_ Malone. See note
  (XXI).

  [718] _pluck_] _push_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [722, 759, 781] _an't_] Hanmer. _and't_ Ff.

  [723] _pheasant_] _present_ Kenrick conj.

  [725] _pheasant, cock_] Capell. _pheazant cock,_ Ff (_pheasant_ F4).

  [726] _blessed_] Ff. _bless'd_ Pope.

  [729] _be but_] _but be_ Hanmer.

  [732] _to be_] _to me_ S. Walker conj.

  [733] _on's_] _of's_ Capell conj.

  [734] _fardel_] Steevens. _Farthell_ F1 F2. _Farthel_ F3 F4.

  [747] _hand-fast_] _band, fast_ Grant White conj.

  [752] _germane_] _Iermaine_ F1 F2. _Jermain_ F3 F4.

  [763] _then stand_] _there stand_ Capell.

  [774] _behalfs_] _behalf_ F4.

  [775] _man_] F1 F2. _a man_ F3 F4. _the man_ Long MS.

  [799] _look_] F3 F4. _looke_ F1 F2. _leake_ Theobald conj.

  [801, 802] _blest_] _bless'd_ Ff.

  [804] Exeunt S. and C.] Rowe. Exeunt. F2 F3 F4. om. F1.

  [809] _back_] _luck_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [815] [Exit.] Rowe. [Exeunt. Ff.




ACT V.

SCENE I. _A room in_ LEONTES' _palace_.


_Enter_ LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, _and Servants_.

    _Cleo._ Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
    A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make,
    Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down
    More penitence than done trespass: at the last,
    Do as the heavens have done, forget your evil;                     5
    With them forgive yourself.

    _Leon._                   Whilst I remember
    Her and her virtues, I cannot forget
    My blemishes in them, and so still think of
    The wrong I did myself: which was so much,
    That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and                        10
    Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man
    Bred his hopes out of.

    _Paul._                   True, too true, my lord:
    If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
    Or from the all that are took something good,
    To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd                           15
    Would be unparallel'd.

    _Leon._                   I think so. Kill'd!
    She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strikest me
    Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter
    Upon my tongue as in my thought: now, good now,
    Say so but seldom.

    _Cleo._                   Not at all, good lady:                  20
    You might have spoken a thousand things that would
    Have done the time more benefit and graced
    Your kindness better.

    _Paul._                   You are one of those
    Would have him wed again.

    _Dion._                   If you would not so,
    You pity not the state, nor the remembrance                       25
    Of his most sovereign name; consider little
    What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue,
    May drop upon his kingdom and devour
    Incertain lookers on. What were more holy
    Than to rejoice the former queen is well?                         30
    What holier than, for royalty's repair,
    For present comfort and for future good,
    To bless the bed of majesty again
    With a sweet fellow to't?

    _Paul._                   There is none worthy,
    Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods                     35
    Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes;
    For has not the divine Apollo said,
    Is't not the tenor of his oracle,
    That King Leontes shall not have an heir
    Till his lost child be found? which that it shall,                40
    Is all as monstrous to our human reason
    As my Antigonus to break his grave
    And come again to me; who, on my life,
    Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel
    My lord should to the heavens be contrary,                        45
    Oppose against their wills. [_To Leontes._] Care not for issue;
    The crown will find an heir: great Alexander
    Left his to the worthiest; so his successor
    Was like to be the best.

    _Leon._                   Good Paulina,
    Who hast the memory of Hermione,                                  50
    I know, in honour, O, that ever I
    Had squared me to thy counsel!--then, even now,
    I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes;
    Have taken treasure from her lips,--

    _Paul_                              And left them
    More rich for what they yielded.

    _Leon._                             Thou speak'st truth.          55
    No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse,
    And better used, would make her sainted spirit
    Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,
    Where we offenders now, appear soul-vex'd,
    And begin, 'Why to me?'

    _Paul._                   Had she such power,                     60
    She had just cause.

    _Leon._                   She had; and would incense me
    To murder her I married.

    _Paul._                   I should so.
    Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'ld bid you mark
    Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't
    You chose her; then I'ld shriek, that even your ears              65
    Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd
    Should be 'Remember mine.'

    _Leon._                   Stars, stars,
    And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
    I'll have no wife, Paulina.

    _Paul._                   Will you swear
    Never to marry but by my free leave?                              70

    _Leon._ Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit!

    _Paul._ Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.

    _Cleo._ You tempt him over-much.

    _Paul._                        Unless another,
    As like Hermione as is her picture,
    Affront his eye.

    _Cleo._              Good madam,--

    _Paul._                        I have done.                       75
    Yet, if my lord will marry,--if you will, sir,
    No remedy, but you will,--give me the office
    To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young
    As was your former; but she shall be such
    As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy           80
    To see her in your arms.

    _Leon._                   My true Paulina,
    We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.

    _Paul._                                  That
    Shall be when your first queen's again in breath;
    Never till then.

_Enter a_ Gentleman.

    _Gent._ One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,               85
    Son of Polixenes, with his princess, she
    The fairest I have yet beheld, desires access
    To your high presence.

    _Leon._                   What with him? he comes not
    Like to his father's greatness: his approach,
    So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us                       90
    'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced
    By need and accident. What train?

    _Gent._                             But few,
    And those but mean.

    _Leon._                   His princess, say you, with him?

    _Gent._ Ay, the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
    That e'er the sun shone bright on.

    _Paul._                             O Hermione,                   95
    As every present time doth boast itself
    Above a better gone, so must thy grave
    Give way to what's seen now! Sir, you yourself
    Have said and writ so, but your writing now
    Is colder than that theme, 'She had not been,                    100
    Nor was not to be equall'd;'--thus your verse
    Flow'd with her beauty once: 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
    To say you have seen a better.

    _Gent._                        Pardon, madam:
    The one I have almost forgot,--your pardon,--
    The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,                       105
    Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
    Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
    Of all professors else; make proselytes
    Of who she but bid follow.

    _Paul._                        How! not women?

    _Gent._ Women will love her, that she is a woman                 110
    More worth than any man; men, that she is
    The rarest of all women.

    _Leon._                   Go, Cleomenes;
    Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
    Bring them to our embracement. Still, 'tis strange
                                 [_Exeunt Cleomenes and others._

    He thus should steal upon us.

    _Paul._                        Had our prince,                   115
    Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd
    Well with this lord: there was not full a month
    Between their births.

    _Leon._ Prithee, no more; cease; thou know'st
    He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure,                        120
    When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
    Will bring me to consider that which may
    Unfurnish me of reason. They are come.

_Re-enter_ CLEOMENES _and others, with_ FLORIZEL _and_ PERDITA.

    Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
    For she did print your royal father off,                         125
    Conceiving you: were I but twenty one,
    Your father's image is so hit in you,
    His very air, that I should call you brother,
    As I did him, and speak of something wildly
    By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!                     130
    And your fair princess,--goddess!--O, alas!
    I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth
    Might thus have stood begetting wonder, as
    You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost,
    All mine own folly, the society,                                 135
    Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
    Though bearing misery, I desire my life
    Once more to look on him.

    _Flo._                         By his command
    Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
    Give you all greetings, that a king, at friend,                  140
    Can send his brother: and, but infirmity
    Which waits upon worn times hath something seized
    His wish'd ability, he had himself
    The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
    Measured to look upon you; whom he loves,                        145
    He bade me say so, more than all the sceptres
    And those that bear them living.

    _Leon._                        O my brother,
    Good gentleman! the wrongs I have done thee stir
    Afresh within me; and these thy offices,
    So rarely kind, are as interpreters                              150
    Of my behind-hand slackness! Welcome hither,
    As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too
    Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage,
    At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
    To greet a man not worth her pains, much less                    155
    The adventure of her person?

    _Flo._                         Good my Lord,
    She came from Libya.

    _Leon._                    Where the warlike Smalus,
    That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and loved?

    _Flo._ Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter
    His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence,              160
    A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd,
    To execute the charge my father gave me,
    For visiting your highness: my best train
    I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
    Who for Bohemia bend, to signify                                 165
    Not only my success in Libya, sir,
    But my arrival, and my wife's, in safety
    Here where we are.

    _Leon._                   The blessed gods
    Purge all infection from our air whilst you
    Do climate here! You have a holy father,                         170
    A graceful gentleman; against whose person,
    So sacred as it is, I have done sin:
    For which the heavens, taking angry note,
    Have left me issueless; and your father's blest,
    As he from heaven merits it, with you                            175
    Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
    Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
    Such goodly things as you!

_Enter a_ Lord.

    _Lord._                   Most noble sir,
    That which I shall report will bear no credit,
    Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,               180
    Bohemia greets you from himself by me;
    Desires you to attach his son, who has--
    His dignity and duty both cast off--
    Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
    A shepherd's daughter.

    _Leon._                   Where's Bohemia? speak.                185

    _Lord._ Here in your city; I now came from him:
    I speak amazedly; and it becomes
    My marvel and my message. To your court
    Whiles he was hastening, in the chase, it seems,
    Of this fair couple, meets he on the way                         190
    The father of this seeming lady and
    Her brother, having both their country quitted
    With this young prince.

    _Flo._                    Camillo has betray'd me;
    Whose honour and whose honesty till now
    Endured all weathers.

    _Lord._                   Lay't so to his charge:                195
    He's with the king your father.

    _Leon._                             Who? Camillo?

    _Lord._ Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now
    Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
    Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth;
    Forswear themselves as often as they speak:                      200
    Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
    With divers deaths in death.

    _Per._                         O my poor father!
    The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
    Our contract celebrated.

    _Leon._                   You are married?

    _Flo._ We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;                   205
    The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:
    The odds for high and low's alike.

    _Leon._                        My lord,
    Is this the daughter of a king?

    _Flo._                         She is,
    When once she is my wife.

    _Leon._ That 'once,' I see by your good father's speed,          210
    Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
    Most sorry, you have broken from his liking
    Where you were tied in duty, and as sorry
    Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
    That you might well enjoy her.

    _Flo._                         Dear, look up:                    215
    Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
    Should chase us with my father, power no jot
    Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,
    Remember since you owed no more to time
    Than I do now: with thought of such affections,                  220
    Step forth mine advocate; at your request
    My father will grant precious things as trifles.

    _Leon._ Would he do so, I'ld beg your precious mistress,
    Which he counts but a trifle.

    _Paul._                        Sir, my liege,
    Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a month                   225
    'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
    Than what you look on now.

    _Leon._                        I thought of her,
    Even in these looks I made. [_To Florizel._] But your petition
    Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father:
    Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,                      230
    I am friend to them and you: upon which errand
    I now go toward him; therefore follow me
    And mark what way I make: come, good my lord.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE I. A room....] Capell.

  Enter....] Rowe. Enter L., C., D., P., Servants: Florizel, Perdita.
  Ff.

  [12] Paul. _True, too true_] Theobald. _true_. Paul. _Too true_. Ff.
  Paul. _'Tis true, too true_ Long MS.

  [17] _She I kill'd!_] _kill'd?--She I kill'd?_ Theobald.

  [21] _spoken_] _spoke_ Pope.

  [24] _so_] om. Hanmer.

  [26] _name_] _dame_ Reed (1803).

  _little_] _a little_ Heath conj.

  [30] _queen is well?_] _queen? This will._ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [36] _fulfill'd_] _fulfill'n_ F2.

  [37] _said,_] F4. _said?_ F1 F2 F3.

  [42] _Antigonus_] _Antigomus_ F2.

  [45] _contrary_] _contray_ F2.

  [46] [To L.] To the King. Theobald.

  [49] _Good_] _Ah! good_ Hanmer. _Thou good_ Capell. _My good_
  Keightley conj.

  [54] _lips,_--] Capell. _lips_. Ff. _lips!_ Pope.

  [58, 59] _stage ... appear_] _stage, (Where we offenders now) appear,_
  Knight. _stage (Where we offenders now appeare)_ Ff (_appear_ F3 F4).
  _stage, (Where ... now) appear_ Theobald. _stage, (Where we offended
  anew) appear_ Hanmer. _stage, Were we offenders now--appear_ Heath
  conj. _stage (Where we offenders now appear, soul-vex'd)_ Steevens
  conj. _stage (Where we offended,) now appear_ Jackson conj. _stage
  (Where we offend her) new appear_ Spedding conj. _stage, (Where we
  offenders move) appear_ Delius conj. _stage, Where we're offenders
  now, appear_ Anon conj.

  [60] _And begin, 'Why to me?'_] _And begin, why to me?_ F1. _And
  begin, why to me;_ F2 F3. _And begin, why to me._ F4. _Begin, 'And why
  to me?'_ Capell. _And begin, Why? to me._ Rann (Mason conj.). See note
  (XXII).

  [61] _cause_] F3 F4. _such cause_ F1 F2.

  [63] _walk'd_] _wak'd_ Rowe (ed.2). Servant post. Collier MS.

  [67] _Stars, stars_] _Stars, very stars_ Hanmer.

  [71] _blest_] _bless'd_ Ff.

  [75] Cleo. _Good madam,--_ Paul. _I have done_] Capell. Cleo. _Good
  madam, I have done_ Ff. Cleo. _Good madam, pray have done_ Rowe.

  [78] _you a_] _your_ Anon. conj.

  [84] Enter a Gentleman.] Theobald. Enter a Servant. Ff. Enter a
  Servant-post. Collier MS.

  [85] SCENE II. Pope.

  Gent.] Ser. Ff (and throughout the scene).

  _out himself_] _himself out_ Pope.

  [87] _fairest I have_] Ff. _fair'st I've_ S. Walker conj.

  [94] _Ay,_] _I:_ Ff. _Yes;_ Rowe.

  [97] _grave_] _grace_ Collier (Egerton MS.).

  [100] _than_] _on_ Hanmer.

  [103] _you have_] _you've_ Pope.

  [106] _This is_] _This is such_ Hanmer. _This'_ S. Walker conj.

  _creature_] _creature, who_ Keightley conj.

  [109] _who_] _whom_ Hanmer.

  _bid_] _did_ Collier (ed. 1).

  [114] Exeunt C....] Exeunt C., Lords, and Gentlemen. Capell. Exit. Ff.

  [117] _full a_] F1 F2. _a full_ F3 F4.

  [119] _Prithee_] _Pray_ S. Walker conj. _cease_] om. Hanmer.

  [123] Re-enter C....] Re-enter Cleomenes, &c. with Florizel and
  Perdita. Capell. Enter Florizell, Perdita, Cleomenes, and others. Ff.

  [124] SCENE III. Pope.

  [131] _your_] _you_ Boswell.

  _princess,--goddess_] _princesse (goddese)_ F1 F2. _princess
  (goddess)_ F3 F4. _princess-goddess_ S. Walker conj.

  [136] _whom,_] _whom,--_ Malone.

  [138] _on him_] _on_ Theobald. _upon_ Steevens.

  _By_] _Sir, by_ Theobald.

  [140] _at friend_] F1. _as friend_ F2 F3 F4. _a friend_ Steevens conj.
  _and friend_ Harness (Malone conj.). _at friends_ Seymour conj.

  [157, 166] _Libya_] _Libia_ F1 F2. _Lybia_ F3 F4. _Lydia_ or _Lycia_
  Douce conj.

  [159] _Most ... daughter_] Hanmer. As two lines in Ff, ending _Sir ...
  daughter._

  [160] _his, parting_] Hanmer. _his parting_ Ff. _her parting_ Thirlby
  conj. _at parting_ Heath conj.

  [168] _we are_] _we happily are_ Hanmer.

  _The blessed_] _Oh! may the blessed_ or _And may the blessed_ Mitford
  conj. _The ever-blessed Anon._ apud Halliwell conj.

  [170] _holy_] _noble_ Collier MS.

  [174] _blest_] _bless'd_ Ff.

  [178] SCENE IV. Pope.

  [186] _your_] _the_ Reed (1803).

  [189] _Whiles_] _Whilst_ Rowe.

  [203] _sets spies upon_] _which sets spies on_ Hanmer.

  [214] _worth_] _birth_ Hanmer (Warburton).

  [216] _Fortune, visible_] _Fortune visible,_ Hanmer.

  [220] _affections,_] Ff. _affections._ Warburton.

  [228] [To Florizel.] Theobald.

  [231] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  _friend_] _a friend_ Reed (1803).


SCENE II. _Before_ LEONTES' _palace_.

_Enter_ AUTOLYCUS _and a_ Gentleman.

    _Aut._ Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?

    _First Gent._ I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard
    the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it:
    whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all commanded
    out of the chamber; only this methought I heard                    5
    the shepherd say, he found the child.

    _Aut._ I would most gladly know the issue of it.

    _First Gent._ I make a broken delivery of the business;
    but the changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were
    very notes of admiration: they seemed almost, with staring        10
    on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes; there was
    speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture;
    they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one
    destroyed: a notable passion of wonder appeared in them;
    but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing,            15
    could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow; but in
    the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

_Enter another_ Gentleman.

    Here comes a gentleman that haply knows more. The
    news, Rogero?

    _Sec. Gent._ Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled;       20
    the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is
    broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be
    able to express it.

_Enter a third_ Gentleman.

    Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward: he can deliver
    you more. How goes it now, sir? this news which is                25
    called true is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in
    strong suspicion: has the king found his heir?

    _Third Gent._ Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by
    circumstance: that which you hear you'll swear you see,
    there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen            30
    Hermione's, her jewel about the neck of it, the letters of
    Antigonus found with it which they know to be his character,
    the majesty of the creature in resemblance of the
    mother, the affection of nobleness which nature shows
    above her breeding, and many other evidences proclaim             35
    her with all certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you
    see the meeting of the two kings?

    _Sec. Gent._ No.

    _Third Gent._ Then have you lost a sight, which was to
    be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld         40
    one joy crown another, so and in such manner, that
    it seemed sorrow wept to take leave of them, for their joy
    waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up
    of hands, with countenance of such distraction, that they
    were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king,             45
    being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter,
    as if that joy were now become a loss, cries 'O, thy
    mother, thy mother!' then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then
    embraces his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter
    with clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, which          50
    stands by like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings'
    reigns. I never heard of such another encounter, which
    lames report to follow it and undoes description to do it.

    _Sec. Gent._ What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that
    carried hence the child?                                          55

    _Third Gent._ Like an old tale still, which will have
    matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear
    open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches
    the shepherd's son; who has not only his innocence, which
    seems much, to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings          60
    of his that Paulina knows.

    _First Gent._ What became of his bark and his followers?

    _Third Gent._ Wrecked the same instant of their master's
    death and in the view of the shepherd: so that all the instruments
    which aided to expose the child were even then                    65
    lost when it was found. But O, the noble combat that
    'twixt joy and sorrow was fought in Paulina! She had one
    eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated
    that the oracle was fulfilled: she lifted the princess from the
    earth, and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her     70
    to her heart that she might no more be in danger of losing.

    _First Gent._ The dignity of this act was worth the audience
    of kings and princes; for by such was it acted.

    _Third Gent._ One of the prettiest touches of all and that
    which angled for mine eyes, caught the water though not           75
    the fish, was when, at the relation of the queen's death, with
    the manner how she came to 't bravely confessed and lamented
    by the king, how attentiveness wounded his daughter;
    till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with
    an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears, for I am sure my        80
    heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed
    colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world could
    have seen 't, the woe had been universal.

    _First Gent._ Are they returned to the court?

    _Third Gent._ No: the princess hearing of her mother's            85
    statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,--a piece many
    years in doing and now newly performed by that rare Italian
    master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and
    could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her
    custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione        90
    hath done Hermione, that they say one would speak to her
    and stand in hope of answer:--thither with all greediness of
    affection are they gone, and there they intend to sup.

    _Sec. Gent._ I thought she had some great matter there
    in hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever       95
    since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house.
    Shall we thither and with our company piece the rejoicing?

    _First Gent._ Who would be thence that has the benefit
    of access? every wink of an eye, some new grace will be
    born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge.           100
    Let's along.                            [_Exeunt Gentlemen._

    _Aut._ Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me,
    would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old
    man and his son aboard the prince; told him I heard them
    talk of a fardel and I know not what: but he at that time,       105
    overfond of the shepherd's daughter, so he then took her
    to be, who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little
    better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery remained
    undiscovered. But 'tis all one to me; for had I
    been the finder out of this secret, it would not have relished   110
    among my other discredits.

_Enter_ Shepherd _and_ Clown.

    Here come those I have done good to against my will,
    and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.

    _Shep._ Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy
    sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.                   115

    _Clo._ You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with
    me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See
    you these clothes? say you see them not and think me
    still no gentleman born: you were best say these robes are
    not gentlemen born: give me the lie, do, and try whether         120
    I am not now a gentleman born.

    _Aut._ I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.

    _Clo._ Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.

    _Shep._ And so have I, boy.

    _Clo._ So you have: but I was a gentleman born before            125
    my father; for the king's son took me by the hand, and
    called me brother; and then the two kings called my father
    brother; and then the prince my brother and the princess
    my sister called my father father; and so we wept, and
    there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.      130

    _Shep._ We may live, son, to shed many more.

    _Clo._ Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so pre-posterous
    estate as we are.

    _Aut._ I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the
    faults I have committed to your worship and to give me           135
    your good report to the prince my master.

    _Shep._ Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we
    are gentlemen.

    _Clo._ Thou wilt amend thy life?

    _Aut._ Ay, an it like your good worship.                         140

    _Clo._ Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou
    art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.

    _Shep._ You may say it, but not swear it.

    _Clo._ Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors
    and franklins say it, I'll swear it.                             145

    _Shep._ How if it be false, son?

    _Clo._ If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear
    it in the behalf of his friend: and I'll swear to the prince
    thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not
    be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands        150
    and that thou wilt be drunk: but I'll swear it, and I would
    thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.

    _Aut._ I will prove so, sir, to my power.

    _Clo._ Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I do not
    wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not being a          155
    tall fellow, trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes,
    our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. Come,
    follow us: we'll be thy good masters.
                                                      [_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

  SCENE II.] SCENE V. Pope.

  Before ...] The same. Before the Palace. Capell. Near the court in
  Sicily. Theobald.

  [2] First Gent.] Gent. 1. Ff.

  [12] _very_] _every_ Anon. conj.

  [13] _as they_] _as if they_ Rowe.

  [18] _haply_] Collier. _happily_ Ff.

  [20] Sec. Gent.] Gent. 2. Ff (and throughout).

  [28] Third Gent.] Gent. 3. Ff (and throughout).

  [31] _Hermione's_] _Hermiones_ Ff. _Hermione_ Rowe.

  [50] _which_] _who_ Rowe.

  [51] _weather-bitten_] F1 F2. _weather-beaten_ F3 F4.

  [53] _to do it_] _to draw it_ Hanmer. _to do it justice_ Singer conj.
  _to show it_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [57] _matter_] _matters_ F4.

  [58] _with_] _of_ Capell conj.

  [63] _Wrecked_] _Wrackt_ Ff.

  [70] _locks_] _lock'd_ Hanmer.

  [71] _losing_] _losing her_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [75] _caught_] _and caught_ Keightley conj.

  [75, 76] _caught ... fish_] omitted by Hanmer (Warburton).

  [77] _bravely_] _heavily_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [81] _marble there_] F3. _marble, there_ F1 F2. _marble there,_ F4.

  [82] _swooned_] Pope. _swownded_ F1 F2. _swounded_ F3 F4.]

  [99] _wink_] _winking_ S. Walker conj., reading lines 98-101 as four
  lines of verse, ending _benefit ... eye ... makes us ... along._

  [101] Exeunt Gentlemen.] Capell. Exit. Ff. Exeunt. Rowe.

  [102] _had I not_] _had not I_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [108] _extremity_] _and extremity_ Keightley conj.

  [112] SCENE VI. Pope.

  [114] _moe_] F1. _more_ F2 F3 F4.

  [117] _this other_] _the other_ Hanmer.

  [140] _an_] Hanmer. _and_ Ff.

  [158] _masters_] F1. _master_ F2 F3 F4.


SCENE III. _A chapel in_ PAULINA'S _house_.

_Enter_ LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA, CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords,
_and_ Attendants.

    _Leon._ O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
    That I have had of thee!

    _Paul._                   What, sovereign sir,
    I did not well, I meant well. All my services
    You have paid home: but that you have vouchsafed
    With your crown'd brother and these your contracted                5
    Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
    It is a surplus of your grace, which never
    My life may last to answer.

    _Leon._                   O Paulina,
    We honour you with trouble: but we came
    To see the statue of our queen: your gallery                      10
    Have we pass'd through, not without much content
    In many singularities; but we saw not
    That which my daughter came to look upon,
    The statue of her mother.

    _Paul._                   As she lived peerless,
    So her dead likeness, I do well believe,                          15
    Excels whatever yet you look'd upon
    Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
    Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare
    To see the life as lively mock'd as ever
    Still sleep mock'd death: behold, and say 'tis well.              20
                       [_Paulina draws a curtain, and discovers
                              Hermione standing like a statue._
    I like your silence, it the more shows off
    Your wonder: but yet speak; first, you, my liege.
    Comes it not something near?

    _Leon._                   Her natural posture!
    Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
    Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she                        25
    In thy not chiding, for she was as tender
    As infancy and grace. But yet, Paulina,
    Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
    So aged as this seems.

    _Pol._                    O, not by much.

    _Paul._ So much the more our carver's excellence;                 30
    Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
    As she lived now.

    _Leon._              As now she might have done,
    So much to my good comfort, as it is
    Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
    Even with such life of majesty, warm life,                        35
    As now it coldly stands, when first I woo'd her!
    I am ashamed: does not the stone rebuke me
    For being more stone than it? O royal piece
    There's magic in thy majesty, which has
    My evils conjured to remembrance, and                             40
    From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
    Standing like stone with thee.

    _Per._                    And give me leave,
    And do not say 'tis superstition, that
    I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady,
    Dear queen, that ended when I but began,                          45
    Give me that hand of yours to kiss.

    _Paul._                             O, patience!
    The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's
    Not dry.

    _Cam._ My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
    Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,                           50
    So many summers dry: scarce any joy
    Did ever so long live; no sorrow
    But kill'd itself much sooner.

    _Pol._                         Dear my brother,
    Let him that was the cause of this have power
    To take off so much grief from you as he                          55
    Will piece up in himself.

    _Paul._                   Indeed, my lord,
    If I had thought the sight of my poor image
    Would thus have wrought you, for the stone is mine,
    I'ld not have show'd it.

    _Leon._                   Do not draw the curtain.

    _Paul._ No longer shall you gaze on't, lest your fancy            60
    May think anon it moves.

    _Leon._                   Let be, let be.
    Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already--
    What was he that did make it? See, my lord,
    Would you not deem it breathed? and that those veins
    Did verily bear blood?

    _Pol._                    Masterly done:                          65
    The very life seems warm upon her lip.

    _Leon._ The fixure of her eye has motion in't,
    As we are mock'd with art.

    _Paul._                   I'll draw the curtain:
    My lord's almost so far transported that
    He'll think anon it lives.

    _Leon._                   O sweet Paulina,                        70
    Make me to think so twenty years together!
    No settled senses of the world can match
    The pleasure of that madness. Let't alone.

    _Paul._ I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you: but
    I could afflict you farther.

    _Leon._                   Do, Paulina;                            75
    For this affliction has a taste as sweet
    As any cordial comfort. Still, methinks,
    There is an air comes from her: what fine chisel
    Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
    For I will kiss her.

    _Paul._              Good my lord, forbear:                       80
    The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
    You'll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
    With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?

    _Leon._ No, not these twenty years.

    _Per._                         So long could I
    Stand by, a looker on.

    _Paul._                   Either forbear,                         85
    Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
    For more amazement. If you can behold it,
    I'll make the statue move indeed, descend
    And take you by the hand: but then you'll think,
    Which I protest against I am assisted                             90
    By wicked powers.

    _Leon._              What you can make her do,
    I am content to look on: what to speak,
    I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy
    To make her speak as move.

    _Paul._                   It is required
    You do awake your faith. Then all stand still;                    95
    On: those that think it is unlawful business
    I am about, let them depart.

    _Leon._                        Proceed:
    No foot shall stir.

    _Paul._              Music, awake her; strike!     [_Music._
    'Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;
    Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,                     100
    I'll fill your grave up: stir, nay, come away,
    Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
    Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs:
                                         [_Hermione comes down._
    Start not; her actions shall be holy as
    You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her                     105
    Until you see her die again; for then
    You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
    When she was young you woo'd her; now in age
    Is she become the suitor?

    _Leon._                   O, she's warm!
    If this be magic, let it be an art                               110
    Lawful as eating.

    _Pol._            She embraces him.

    _Cam._ She hangs about his neck:
    If she pertain to life let her speak too.

    _Pol._ Ay, and make't manifest where she has lived,
    Or how stolen from the dead.

    _Paul._                        That she is living,               115
    Were it but told you, should be hooted at
    Like an old tale: but it appears she lives,
    Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
    Please you to interpose, fair madam: kneel
    And pray your mother's blessing. Turn, good lady;                120
    Our Perdita is found.

    _Her._                    You gods, look down
    And from your sacred vials pour your graces
    Upon my daughter's head! Tell me, mine own,
    Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found
    Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear that I,                  125
    Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
    Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved
    Myself to see the issue.

    _Paul._                   There's time enough for that;
    Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
    Your joys with like relation. Go together,                       130
    You precious winners all; your exultation
    Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,
    Will wing me to some wither'd bough and there
    My mate, that's never to be found again,
    Lament till I am lost.

    _Leon._                   O, peace, Paulina!                     135
    Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
    As I by thine a wife: this is a match,
    And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine;
    But how, is to be question'd; for I saw her,
    As I thought, dead; and have in vain said many                   140
    A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far,--
    For him, I partly know his mind,--to find thee
    An honourable husband. Come, Camillo,
    And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty
    Is richly noted and here justified                               145
    By us, a pair of kings. Let's from this place.
    What! look upon my brother: both your pardons,
    That e'er I put between your holy looks
    My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law,
    And son unto the king, whom heavens directing,                   150
    Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,
    Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely
    Each one demand, and answer to his part
    Perform'd in this wide gap of time, since first
    We were dissever'd: hastily lead away.            [_Exeunt._     155


LINENOTES:

  SCENE III.] SCENE VII. Pope.

  A chapel ...] A Chapel in Paulina's House: at upper End a Nich; a
  Curtain before it. Capell.

  Lords and Attendants.] Rowe. Hermione (like a Statue:) Lords, &c. Ff.

  [16] _you_] _you've_ Anon. conj.

  [18] _Lonely_] Hanmer. _Louely_ F1. _Lovely_ F2 F3 F4. See note
  (XXIII).

  [20] [Paulina ...] Rowe.

  [28] _much_] om. Seymour conj.

  [41] _thy_] _my_ Theobald.

  [44] _then_] _thus_ Collier (Collier MS.).

  [47] _colour's_] _colours_ S. Walker conj.

  [48] [Staying Perdita. Capell.

  [52, 53] _sorrow But_] _sorrow but It_ S. Walker conj.

  [58] _is mine,_] _i' th' mine_ Tyrwhitt conj.

  [61] _moves_] _move_ Pope.

  [62] _already--_] Rowe. _alreadie._ F1. _already._ F2 F3 F4. _already
  I am but dead stone, looking upon stone_ Collier (Collier MS.).
  _already I'm in heaven, amd looking on an angel_. Anon. apud Singer
  conj.

  [67] _fixure_] _fixture_ F4. _fissure_ Warburton conj.

  [68] _As_] _And_ Capell. _So_ Mason conj.

  _are_] _were_ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [73] _Let't_] _Let_ Johnson.

  [74] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.

  [75] _farther_] F1 F2. _further_ F3 F4.

  [80] _my_] _me_ F2.

  [96] _On: those_] Ff. _And those_ Pope. _Or those_ Hanmer.

  [98] [Music.] Rowe.

  [100] _upon_] _on you_ Hanmer. _upon you_ Keightley conj. _upon't_
  Anon. conj.

  [103] [Hermione ...] Rowe.

  [109] _suitor?_] Ff. _suitor._ Rowe (ed. 2).

  [Embracing her. Rowe.

  [112, 113] _She hangs... too_] Arranged by S. Walker as two lines,
  ending _pertain ... too._

  [114] _make't_] Capell. _make it_ Ff. _make_ Hanmer.

  [121] [Presenting Perdita, who kneels to Her. Rowe.

  [122] _vials_] Pope. _viols_ Ff.

  [129] _Lest_] F3 F4. _Least_ F1 F2.

  [144] _by the_] om. Collier (Collier MS.).

  [147] [To Her. Hanmer.

  [149] _This_] _This'_ S. Walker conj.

  [150] _whom heavens directing,_] _from heav'n's directing,_ Hanmer.
  _who, heavens directing,_ Capell. _(whom heavens directing,_) Malone.

  [155] _We were_] F1 F2. _Were_ F3 F4.




NOTES.


NOTE I.

I. 2. 42. Warburton, who reads 'good heed' with the later Folios, says
that Mr Theobald, not understanding the phrase, altered it to 'good
deed.' In reality Theobald recalled the reading of the first Folio,
which Warburton had not taken the trouble to collate.


NOTE II.

I. 2. 154. 'Methoughts' is of course a form grammatically inaccurate,
suggested by the more familiar 'methinks.' It occurs, however,
sufficiently often in the old editions to warrant us in supposing that
it came from the author's pen. We therefore retain it.


NOTE III.

I. 2. 272. Mr Collier tells us that some copies of the second Folio read
'think it.' Ours has 'think.'


NOTE IV.

I. 2. 459. Johnson says: 'Dr Warburton's conjecture is, I think, just;
but what shall be done with the following words of which I can make
nothing? Perhaps the line, which connected them to the rest, is lost.'
In fact we should have expected Polixenes to say that his flight without
Hermione would be the best means not only of securing his own safety but
of dispelling the suspicions Leontes entertained of his queen.


NOTE V.

II. 1. 136. The Folios spell 'than' and 'then' indifferently 'then.' In
this passage Malone was inclined to restore 'then.'


NOTE VI.

II. 1. 143. If 'land-damn' be the right reading it has not yet received
a satisfactory explanation. The word 'lamback' which in his first
edition Mr Collier offered as a conjecture, he afterwards found in the
corrected copy of the second Folio. But with the sense which he assigns
to it 'to beat,' it seems an anticlimax after the threat contained in
the line preceding. We omitted to record in our note that Dr Nicholson
proposes to read 'Lent-damn.'


NOTE VII.

II. 3. 177. 'It,' as a possessive pronoun, is found again in this play
(III. 2. 99). In the latter place Rowe was the first to make the
correction 'its.' In _The Tempest_ (II. 1. 157), as here, the change is
made by the third Folio. See our note on that passage. It is remarkable
that the only comedies in which this ancient usage occurs, viz. _The
Tempest_ and _The Winter's Tale_, are among the latest of our author's
works. Perhaps the printer is responsible for the singularity.

Mr Staunton has mentioned the following instances in the Histories and
Tragedies: _King John_, II. 1, _Timon of Athens_, V. 2, _King Lear_, I.
4, _Hamlet_, I. 2 and V. 1. 'It' occurs besides in _Henry V_., V. 2,
_Cymbeline_, III. 4, _Romeo and Juliet_, I. 3, and _Antony and
Cleopatra_, II. 7.

In _Hamlet_, I. 2, the first Quarto has _his_, the first Folio,
published twenty years later, has _it_. In the same play, V. 1, one of
the Quartos has _it's_. Professor Craik quotes also from the Quarto,
_ith_ or _it_ in _King Lear_, IV. 2. But the two Quartos of 1608 in
Capell's collection both read _it_. 'Its' is found in _The Tempest_, I.
2. 95, 393, _Measure for Measure_, I. 2. 4, _Winter's Tale_, I. 2. 151,
152, 157, 266, III. 3. 46, 2 _Henry VI._ III. 2, _Henry VIII._ I. 1. On
the whole we think it most probable that Shakespeare would not
deliberately have written _it_ for _its_, or _his_, except when
imitating the language of rustics or children. It is only fair, however,
to mention that Mr Staunton and Professor Craik are of a different
opinion. After all it is not of very great consequence which form we
preserve in the text, as we carefully record all the minutest variations
at the foot of the page.


NOTE VIII.

III. 2. 10. The first Folio prints 'silence' in italics, like a
stage-direction. The subsequent Folios have 'Silence. Enter,' also in
italics. Rowe printed it, as we have done, as part of the officer's
speech. Capell assigned it to a crier, and Mr Dyce, in support of this,
quotes the commencement of Queen Catharine's trial, in _Henry the
Eighth_, II. 4. But there is no reason why in this play the officer who
has already spoken should not also command silence.


NOTE IX.

III. 2. 41. "It is surprising," says Mr Staunton, "that this passage
should have passed without question, for grief must surely be an error.
Hermione means that life to her is of as little estimation as the most
trivial thing which she would part with; and she expresses the same
sentiment shortly after in similar terms,--'no life,--I prize it not a
straw.' Could she speak of grief as a trifle, of no moment or
importance?"

Is not the meaning this, that Hermione now holds life and grief to be
inseparable and would willingly be rid of both? Johnson's note is to
this effect.


NOTE X.

III. 3. 59. If written in Arabic numerals 16 would be more likely to be
mistaken for 10 than 13, which Capell suggested. Besides 'sixteen' seems
to suit the context better than 'thirteen.' Another mistake of one
number for another occurs IV. 2. 3, but this may have been an error on
the author's part.


NOTE XI.

III. 3. 122. Capell's copy of the first Folio has distinctly 'fight.' A
copy in the possession of the Rev. N. M. Ferrers, Fellow of Gonville and
Caius College, has as distinctly 'sight.'


NOTE XII.

IV. 1. 1. Johnson followed Theobald and Warburton in printing Time's
speech at the end of the third act, but said in his note: 'I believe
this speech of Time rather begins the fourth act than concludes the
third.' He had not referred, apparently, to the Folios or to Rowe and
Pope. Theobald did not mean to include the speech in either act, but
drew a line above it to mark that it was an interlude between the third
and fourth. Warburton, and Johnson after him, omitted the line.


NOTE XIII.

IV. 3. 48. A writer in _The Gentleman's Magazine_, 1st series, Vol. LX.
p. 306, suggests that by 'me--' in this place is meant 'mercy,' and that
the clown's exclamation is interrupted by Autolycus.


NOTE XIV.

IV. 4. 82. We have retained here the spelling 'gillyvors' in preference
to the more familiar form 'gillyflowers,' because the latter is due to
an etymological error. The original word is 'caryophyllus,' which
becomes 'girofle' in French, and thence by metathesis 'gilofre,'
'gillyvor.'


NOTE XV.

IV. 4. 263. We have retained _wives_ in this passage because Steevens'
reading _wives'_ is too strictly grammatical to accord with the reckless
volubility of the charlatan. To be consistent, Steevens ought to have
printed _witnesses'_ for _witnesses_ in line 275.


NOTE XVI.

IV. 4. 288. The first three Folios read thus;

    Song. _Get you hence for I must goe_
    Aut. _Where it fits not you to know._

The fourth thus:

SONG.

       _Get you hence for I must go,_
    Aut. _Where fits not you to know._

Rowe first set it right.


NOTE XVII.

IV. 4. 328. We have adopted the spelling 'squier' here, as in _Love's
Labour's Lost_, V. 2. 474, because the word in this sense is now
obsolete, and because this spelling comes nearest to 'esquierre,' from
which it is derived.


NOTE XVIII.

IV. 4. 417. We have followed Rowe in ejecting the first 'never' from the
line, for these reasons. 1. The misprint is of a very common sort. The
printer's eye caught the word at the end of the line. 2. The metre is
improved by the change. The line was made doubly inharmonious by the
repetition of 'never.' 3. The sense is improved. Polixenes would rather
make light of his son's sighs than dwell so emphatically upon their
cause.


NOTE XIX.

IV. 4. 504. We think Malone's stage direction 'going' was inserted under
a mistaken view of Florizel's meaning. He apologises to Camillo for
talking apart with Perdita in his presence. At the commencement of this
whispered conversation he said to Camillo, 'I'll hear you by and by,'
and at the close of it he turns again to him with 'Now, good Camillo;'
&c.


NOTE XX.

IV. 4. 693. In the first Folio the reading is 'at 'Pallace,' the
apostrophe, if it be not a misprint, pointing either to the omission of
the article or its absorption in rapid pronunciation, as in IV. 4. 105,
'with' Sun.' Perhaps the Clown speaks of the King being 'at palace' as
he would have spoken of an ordinary man being 'at home.'


NOTE XXI.

IV. 4. 715. The first Folio has 'at toaze,' which is apparently a
corruption. The subsequent Folios read 'or toaze,' which in default of a
more certain correction we have adopted. It is not improbable, however,
that Autolycus may have coined a word to puzzle the clowns, which
afterwards puzzled the printers.


NOTE XXII.

V. I. 60. Steevens distinctly claims as his own the emendation which is
due to Capell, and credit has been given him for it by Malone and
subsequent editors. In a similar manner he appropriates Capell's
division of the speeches in line 75 as a conjecture of his own. Malone
proposes to retain the reading of the Folios in lines 58-60, with a
different punctuation, thus:

    "Again possess her corpse, (and on the stage
    Where we offenders now appear soul-vex'd)
    And begin, 'why to me?'"

In the last words there is probably a corruption which cannot be removed
by simple transposition.


NOTE XXIII.

V. 3. 18. Mr Halliwell says that 'Lonely' is the reading of the first
Folio. Capell's copy has 'Lowely,' and the same is found in Mr Ferrers'
copy.


CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.




_NOTICES OF THE PRESS._


"An Edition on a plan which differs altogether from that adopted by any;
a plan so excellent in itself, and so well carried out, that we have no
hesitation in saying that it is likely to be, when completed, the most
useful one to the scholar and intelligent reader which has yet
appeared."--_Athenæum._

"We regard the appearance of the Cambridge Shakespeare as an epoch in
editing the works of the foremost man in the dramatic world. Besides
many positive virtues in this edition, the hitherto prevailing errors
are avoided. The gross blunders and unauthorized fancies of generations
of editors are banished from the text; the more tolerable or the less
noxious conjectures are removed to the notes; space is allowed and
justice is rendered to all former labourers in the editorial field. He
who is indifferent to verbal criticism may read in peace an orthodox
text; and he who is curious in such matters will find various readings
supplied to him in full measure."--_Saturday Review._

"There were, indeed, plenty of editions of Shakespeare, great and small,
with plenty of notes small and great, but a critical text founded at
once upon the exhaustive collation of all existing sources, and upon the
immense mass of learning and conjecture accumulated by Shakespearian
scholars, was absolutely wanting."--_Spectator._

"The very edition so long needed, and the most perfect that has ever
been produced.... The Shakespearian collection given by Capell to
Trinity Library, Cambridge, supplies, say the editors, a mass of
materials almost unrivalled in amount and value, and in some points
unique; and they have thus enjoyed facilities for the execution of their
task which few besides could have possessed.... Not only will this
Cambridge Shakespeare be the choice of numbers who must be content with
a single copy for the shelf and fireside, but all lovers of the
dramatist will be compelled and will be eager to add it to
the collection of best editions they may already have
acquired."--_Nonconformist._

"A work which, when complete, will deserve to take its place as the
Library Edition of Shakespeare. While the greater part of the contents
can never grow old, it will have a value far superior to that of a
conjecturally amended text, or a simple reprint of the first folio. It
shows us, with singular conciseness and clearness, how much, or how
little, previous editors have been able to do for the text, and thus
gives us the results of many men's labours.... We have the result of the
latest investigations without the pain of seeing critic or commentator
struggling over the text of Shakespeare."--_Guardian._

"Hitherto the ordinary reader has never been able to ascertain for
himself the extent to which the original text of the poet has been
tampered with, or even to apportion to various emendators the proper
share of merit due to them for their conjectures. The Cambridge
Shakespeare supplies them the means of solving both these problems, and
will thus enable the ordinary reader to construct, as it were, a text
for himself. So careful and extensive a collation of texts as that made
in this edition has rarely, if ever, been made with respect to ancient
author of Greece or Rome."--_Daily News._

       *       *       *       *       *
    +--------------------------------------------------------------+
    |                                                              |
    |                  Transcriber's notes:                        |
    |                                                              |
    | P. 81. Linenote: 60 should be 61, changed.                   |
    | P. 265 Linenote:65. 'olly' changed to 'folly'.               |
    | P. 270. Linenote: 28 'Youth to fight' is 31, changed.        |
    | P. 413. linenote:123. 'Cleomines' changed to 'Cleomenes'.    |
    | Fixed various punctuation.                                   |
    | Note: underscores to surround _italic text_, and = around    |
    |   =bold text=.                                               |
    +--------------------------------------------------------------+