Nur. O Lord, I could haue staid here all night,
To heare good counsell: oh what learning is!
My Lord Ile tell my Lady you will come

   Rom. Do so, and bid my Sweete prepare to chide

   Nur. Heere sir, a Ring she bid me giue you sir:
Hie you, make hast, for it growes very late

   Rom. How well my comfort is reuiu'd by this

   Fri. Go hence,
Goodnight, and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the breake of day disguis'd from hence,
Soiourne in Mantua, Ile find out your man,
And he shall signifie from time to time,
Euery good hap to you, that chaunces heere:
Giue me thy hand, 'tis late, farewell, goodnight

   Rom. But that a ioy past ioy, calls out on me,
It were a griefe, so briefe to part with thee:
Farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter old Capulet, his Wife and Paris.

  Cap. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily,
That we haue had no time to moue our Daughter:
Looke you, she Lou'd her kinsman Tybalt dearely,
And so did I. Well, we were borne to die.
'Tis very late, she'l not come downe to night:
I promise you, but for your company,
I would haue bin a bed an houre ago

   Par. These times of wo, affoord no times to wooe:
Madam goodnight, commend me to your Daughter

   Lady. I will, and know her mind early to morrow,
To night, she is mewed vp to her heauinesse

   Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my Childes loue: I thinke she will be rul'd
In all respects by me: nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed,
Acquaint her here, of my Sonne Paris Loue,
And bid her, marke you me, on Wendsday next,
But soft, what day is this?
  Par. Monday my Lord

   Cap. Monday, ha ha: well Wendsday is too soone,
A Thursday let it be: a Thursday tell her,
She shall be married to this Noble Earle:
Will you be ready? do you like this hast?
Weele keepe no great adoe, a Friend or two,
For harke you, Tybalt being slaine so late,
It may be thought we held him carelesly,
Being our kinsman, if we reuell much:
Therefore weele haue some halfe a dozen Friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
  Paris. My Lord,
I would that Thursday were to morrow

   Cap. Well, get you gone, a Thursday, be it then:
Go you to Iuliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her wife, against this wedding day.
Farewell my Lord, light to my Chamber hoa,
Afore me, it is so late, that we may call it early by and by,
Goodnight.

Exeunt.

Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft.

  Iul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day:
It was the Nightingale, and not the Larke,
That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare,
Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree,
Beleeue me Loue, it was the Nightingale

   Rom. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne:
No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes
Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East:
Nights Candles are burnt out, and Iocond day
Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops,
I must be gone and liue, or stay and die

   Iul. Yond light is not daylight, I know it I:
It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a Torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not be gone,
  Rom. Let me be tane, let me be put to death,
I am content, so thou wilt haue it so.
Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye,
'Tis but the pale reflexe of Cinthias brow.
Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate
The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads,
I haue more care to stay, then will to go:
Come death and welcome, Iuliet wills it so.
How ist my soule, lets talke, it is not day

   Iuli. It is, it is, hie hence be gone away:
It is the Larke that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh Discords, and vnpleasing Sharpes.
Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision;
This doth not so: for she diuideth vs.
Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes,
O now I would they had chang'd voyces too:
Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray,
Hunting thee hence, with Hunts-vp to the day,
O now be gone, more light and it light growes

   Rom. More light & light, more darke & darke our woes.
Enter Madam and Nurse.

  Nur. Madam

   Iul. Nurse

   Nur. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber,
The day is broke, be wary, looke about

   Iul. Then window let day in, and let life out

   Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend

   Iul. Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend,
I must heare from thee euery day in the houre,
For in a minute there are many dayes,
O by this count I shall be much in yeares,
Ere I againe behold my Romeo

   Rom. Farewell:
I will omit no oportunitie,
That may conuey my greetings Loue, to thee

   Iul. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe?
  Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue
For sweet discourses in our time to come

   Iuliet. O God! I haue an ill Diuining soule,
Me thinkes I see thee now, thou art so lowe,
As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe,
Either my eye-sight failes, or thou look'st pale

   Rom. And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you:
Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue.
Enter.

  Iul. O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle,
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune:
For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long,
But send him backe.
Enter Mother.

  Lad. Ho Daughter, are you vp?
  Iul. Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother.
Is she not downe so late, or vp so early?
What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
  Lad. Why how now Iuliet?
  Iul. Madam I am not well

   Lad. Euermore weeping for your Cozins death?
What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares?
And if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him liue:
Therefore haue done, some griefe shewes much of Loue,
But much of griefe, shewes still some want of wit

   Iul. Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse

   Lad. So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend
Which you weepe for

   Iul. Feeling so the losse,
I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend

   La. Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him

   Iul. What Villaine, Madam?
  Lad. That same Villaine Romeo

   Iul. Villaine and he, be many miles assunder:
God pardon, I doe with all my heart:
And yet no man like he, doth grieue my heart

   Lad. That is because the Traitor liues

   Iul. I Madam from the reach of these my hands:
Would none but I might venge my Cozins death

   Lad. We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not.
Then weepe no more, Ile send to one in Mantua,
Where that same banisht Run-agate doth liue,
Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram,
That he shall soone keepe Tybalt company:
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied

   Iul. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him. Dead
Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext:
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To beare a poyson, I would temper it;
That Romeo should vpon receit thereof,
Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors
To heare him nam'd, and cannot come to him,
To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin,
Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him

   Mo. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man.
But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle

   Iul. And ioy comes well, in such a needy time,
What are they, beseech your Ladyship?
  Mo. Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child?
One who to put thee from thy heauinesse,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy,
That thou expects not, nor I lookt not for

   Iul. Madam in happy time, what day is this?
  Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne,
The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman,
The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church,
Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride

   Iul. Now by Saint Peters Church, and Peter too,
He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride.
I wonder at this hast, that I must wed
Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe:
I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam,
I will not marrie yet, and when I doe, I sweare
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate
Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed

   Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe,
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter Capulet and Nurse.

  Cap. When the Sun sets, the earth doth drizzle deaw
But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne,
It raines downright.
How now? A Conduit Gyrle, what still in teares?
Euermore showring in one little body?
Thou counterfaits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind:
For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea,
Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body is
Sayling in this salt floud, the windes thy sighes,
Who raging with the teares and they with them,
Without a sudden calme will ouer set
Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife?
Haue you deliuered to her our decree?
  Lady. I sir;
But she will none, she giues you thankes,
I would the foole were married to her graue

   Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife,
How, will she none? doth she not giue vs thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
Vnworthy as she is, that we haue wrought
So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome
  Iul. Not proud you haue,
But thankfull that you haue:
Proud can I neuer be of what I haue,
But thankfull euen for hate, that is meant Loue

   Cap. How now?
How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this?
Proud, and I thanke you: and I thanke you not.
Thanke me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church:
Or I will drag thee, on a Hurdle thither.
Out you greene sicknesse carrion, out you baggage,
You tallow face

   Lady. Fie, fie, what are you mad?
  Iul. Good Father, I beseech you on my knees
Heare me with patience, but to speake a word

   Fa. Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch,
I tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday,
Or neuer after looke me in the face.
Speake not, reply not, do not answere me.
My fingers itch, wife: we scarce thought vs blest,
That God had lent vs but this onely Child,
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we haue a curse in hauing her:
Out on her Hilding

   Nur. God in heauen blesse her,
You are too blame my Lord to rate her so

   Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue,
Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go

   Nur. I speak no treason,
Father, O Godigoden,
May not one speake?
  Fa. Peace you mumbling foole,
Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles
For here we need it not

   La. You are too hot

   Fa. Gods bread, it makes me mad:
Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play,
Alone in companie, still my care hath bin
To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided
A Gentleman of Noble Parentage,
Of faire Demeanes, Youthfull, and Nobly Allied,
Stuft as they say with Honourable parts,
Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man,
And then to haue a wretched puling foole,
A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender,
To answer, Ile not wed, I cannot Loue:
I am too young, I pray you pardon me.
But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you.
Graze where you will, you shall not house with me:
Looke too't, thinke on't, I do not vse to iest.
Thursday is neere, lay hand on heart, aduise,
And you be mine, Ile giue you to my Friend:
And you be not, hang, beg, starue, die in the streets,
For by my soule, Ile nere acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good:
Trust too't, bethinke you, Ile not be forsworne
Enter.

  Iuli. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes,
That sees into the bottome of my griefe?
O sweet my Mother cast me not away,
Delay this marriage, for a month, a weeke,
Or if you do not, make the Bridall bed
In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies

   Mo. Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word,
Do as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee.
Enter.

  Iul. O God!
O Nurse, how shall this be preuented?
My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen,
How shall that faith returne againe to earth,
Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen,
By leauing earth? Comfort me, counsaile me:
Alacke, alacke, that heauen should practise stratagems
Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe.
What saist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy?
Some comfort Nurse

   Nur. Faith here it is,
Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing,
That he dares nere come backe to challenge you:
Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
Then since the case so stands as now it doth,
I thinke it best you married with the Countie,
O hee's a Louely Gentleman:
Romeos a dish-clout to him: an Eagle Madam
Hath not so greene, so quicke, so faire an eye
As Paris hath, beshrow my very heart,
I thinke you are happy in this second match,
For it excels your first: or if it did not,
Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,
As liuing here and you no vse of him

   Iul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
  Nur. And from my soule too,
Or else beshrew them both

   Iul. Amen

   Nur. What?
  Iul. Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much,
Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone,
Hauing displeas'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell,
To make confession, and to be absolu'd

   Nur. Marrie I will, and this is wisely done

   Iul. Auncient damnation, O most wicked fiend!
It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne,
Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare,
So many thousand times? Go Counsellor,
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twaine:
Ile to the Frier to know his remedie,
If all else faile, my selfe haue power to die.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Countie Paris.

  Fri. On Thursday sir? the time is very short

   Par. My Father Capulet will haue it so,
And I am nothing slow to slack his hast

   Fri. You say you do not know the Ladies mind?
Vneuen is the course, I like it not

   Pa. Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death,
And therfore haue I little talke of Loue,
For Venus smiles not in a house of teares.
Now sir, her Father counts it dangerous
That she doth giue her sorrow so much sway:
And in his wisedome, hasts our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her teares,
Which too much minded by her selfe alone,
May be put from her by societie.
Now doe you know the reason of this hast?
  Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
Looke sir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell.
Enter Iuliet.

  Par. Happily met, my Lady and my wife

   Iul. That may be sir, when I may be a wife

   Par. That may be, must be Loue, on Thursday next

   Iul. What must be shall be

   Fri. That's a certaine text

   Par. Come you to make confession to this Father?
  Iul. To answere that, I should confesse to you

   Par. Do not denie to him, that you Loue me

   Iul. I will confesse to you that I Loue him

   Par. So will ye, I am sure that you Loue me

   Iul. If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your backe, then to your face

   Par. Poore soule, thy face is much abus'd with teares

   Iul. The teares haue got small victorie by that:
For it was bad inough before their spight

   Pa. Thou wrong'st it more then teares with that report

   Iul. That is no slaunder sir, which is a truth,
And what I spake, I spake it to thy face

   Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slaundred it

   Iul. It may be so, for it is not mine owne.
Are you at leisure, Holy Father now,
Or shall I come to you at euening Masse?
  Fri. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now.
My Lord you must intreat the time alone

   Par. Godsheild: I should disturbe Deuotion,
Iuliet, on Thursday early will I rowse yee,
Till then adue, and keepe this holy kisse.

Exit Paris.

  Iul. O shut the doore, and when thou hast done so,
Come weepe with me, past hope, past care, past helpe

   Fri. O Iuliet, I alreadie know thy griefe,
It streames me past the compasse of my wits:
I heare thou must and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this Countie

   Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this,
Vnlesse thou tell me how I may preuent it:
If in thy wisedome, thou canst giue no helpe,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife, Ile helpe it presently.
God ioyn'd my heart, and Romeos, thou our hands,
And ere this hand by thee to Romeo seal'd:
Shall be the Labell to another Deede,
Or my true heart with trecherous reuolt,
Turne to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore out of thy long experien'st time,
Giue me some present counsell, or behold
Twixt my extreames and me, this bloody knife
Shall play the vmpeere, arbitrating that,
Which the commission of thy yeares and art,
Could to no issue of true honour bring:
Be not so long to speak, I long to die,
If what thou speak'st, speake not of remedy

   Fri. Hold Daughter, I doe spie a kind of hope,
Which craues as desperate an execution,
As that is desperate which we would preuent.
If rather then to marrie Countie Paris
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thy selfe,
Then is it likely thou wilt vndertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
That coap'st with death himselfe, to scape fro it:
And if thou dar'st, Ile giue thee remedie

   Iul. Oh bid me leape, rather then marrie Paris,
From of the Battlements of any Tower,
Or walke in theeuish waies, or bid me lurke
Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares
Or hide me nightly in a Charnell house,
Orecouered quite with dead mens ratling bones,
With reckie shankes and yellow chappels sculls:
Or bid me go into a new made graue,
And hide me with a dead man in his graue,
Things that to heare them told, haue made me tremble,
And I will doe it without feare or doubt,
To liue an vnstained wife to my sweet Loue

   Fri. Hold then: goe home, be merrie, giue consent,
To marrie Paris: wensday is to morrow,
To morrow night looke that thou lie alone,
Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy Chamber:
Take thou this Violl being then in bed,
And this distilling liquor drinke thou off,
When presently through all thy veines shall run,
A cold and drowsie humour: for no pulse
Shall keepe his natiue progresse, but surcease:
No warmth, no breath shall testifie thou liuest,
The Roses in thy lips and cheekes shall fade
To many ashes, the eyes windowes fall
Like death when he shut vp the day of life:
Each part depriu'd of supple gouernment,
Shall stiffe and starke, and cold appeare like death,
And in this borrowed likenesse of shrunke death
Thou shalt continue two and forty houres,
And then awake, as from a pleasant sleepe.
Now when the Bridegroome in the morning comes,
To rowse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then as the manner of our country is,
In thy best Robes vncouer'd on the Beere,
Be borne to buriall in thy kindreds graue:
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie,
In the meane time against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my Letters know our drift,
And hither shall he come, and that very night
Shall Romeo beare thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy nor womanish feare,
Abate thy valour in the acting it

   Iul. Giue me, giue me, O tell me not of care

   Fri. Hold get you gone, be strong and prosperous:
In this resolue, Ile send a Frier with speed
To Mantua with my Letters to thy Lord

   Iu. Loue giue me strength,
And the strength shall helpe afford:
Farewell deare father.

Exit

Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Seruing men, two or
three.

  Cap. So many guests inuite as here are writ,
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning Cookes

   Ser. You shall haue none ill sir, for Ile trie if they can
licke their fingers

   Cap. How canst thou trie them so?
  Ser. Marrie sir, 'tis an ill Cooke that cannot licke his
owne fingers: therefore he that cannot licke his fingers
goes not with me

   Cap. Go be gone, we shall be much vnfurnisht for this
time: what is my Daughter gone to Frier Lawrence?
  Nur. I forsooth

   Cap. Well he may chance to do some good on her,
A peeuish selfe-wild harlotry it is.
Enter Iuliet.

  Nur. See where she comes from shrift
With merrie looke

   Cap. How now my headstrong,
Where haue you bin gadding?
  Iul. Where I haue learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition:
To you and your behests, and am enioyn'd
By holy Lawrence, to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon: pardon I beseech you,
Henceforward I am euer rul'd by you

   Cap. Send for the Countie, goe tell him of this,
Ile haue this knot knit vp to morrow morning

   Iul. I met the youthfull Lord at Lawrence Cell,
And gaue him what becomed Loue I might,
Not stepping ore the bounds of modestie

   Cap. Why I am glad on't, this is well, stand vp,
This is as't should be, let me see the County:
I marrie go I say, and fetch him hither.
Now afore God, this reueren'd holy Frier,
All our whole Cittie is much bound to him

   Iul. Nurse will you goe with me into my Closet,
To helpe me sort such needfull ornaments,
As you thinke fit to furnish me to morrow?
  Mo. No not till Thursday, there's time inough

   Fa. Go Nurse, go with her,
Weele to Church to morrow.

Exeunt. Iuliet and Nurse.

  Mo. We shall be short in our prouision,
'Tis now neere night

   Fa. Tush, I will stirre about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee wife:
Go thou to Iuliet, helpe to decke vp her,
Ile not to bed to night, let me alone:
Ile play the huswife for this once. What ho?
They are all forth, well I will walke my selfe
To Countie Paris, to prepare him vp
Against to morrow, my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same way-ward Gyrle is so reclaim'd.

Exeunt. Father and Mother.

Enter Iuliet and Nurse.

  Iul. I those attires are best, but gentle Nurse
I pray thee leaue me to my selfe to night:
For I haue need of many Orysons,
To moue the heauens to smile vpon my state,
Which well thou know'st, is crosse and full of sin.
Enter Mother.

  Mo. What are you busie ho? need you my help?
  Iul. No Madam, we haue cul'd such necessaries
As are behoouefull for our state to morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone;
And let the Nurse this night sit vp with you,
For I am sure, you haue your hands full all,
In this so sudden businesse

   Mo. Goodnight.
Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.

Exeunt.

  Iul. Farewell:
God knowes when we shall meete againe.
I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines,
That almost freezes vp the heate of fire:
Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.
Nurse, what should she do here?
My dismall Sceane, I needs must act alone:
Come Viall, what if this mixture do not worke at all?
Shall I be married then to morrow morning?
No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there,
What if it be a poyson which the Frier
Subtilly hath ministred to haue me dead,
Least in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I feare it is, and yet me thinkes it should not,
For he hath still beene tried a holy man.
How, if when I am laid into the Tombe,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeeme me? There's a fearefull point:
Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault?
To whose foule mouth no healthsome ayre breaths in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes.
Or if I liue, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,
As in a Vaulte, an ancient receptacle,
Where for these many hundred yeeres the bones
Of all my buried Auncestors are packt,
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but greene in earth,
Lies festring in his shrow'd, where as they say,
At some houres in the night, Spirits resort:
Alacke, alacke, is it not like that I
So early waking, what with loathsome smels,
And shrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth,
That liuing mortalls hearing them, run mad.
O if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Inuironed with all these hidious feares,
And madly play with my forefathers ioynts?
And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his shrow'd?
And in this rage, with some great kinsmans bone,
As (with a club) dash out my desperate braines.
O looke, me thinks I see my Cozins Ghost,
Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body
Vpon my Rapiers point: stay Tybalt, stay;
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drinke: I drinke to thee.
Enter Lady of the house, and Nurse.

  Lady. Hold,
Take these keies, and fetch more spices Nurse

   Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastrie.
Enter old Capulet.

  Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir,
The second Cocke hath Crow'd,
The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a clocke:
Looke to the bakte meates, good Angelica,
Spare not for cost

   Nur. Go you Cot-queane, go,
Get you to bed, faith youle be sicke to morrow
For this nights watching

   Cap. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now
All night for lesse cause, and nere beene sicke

   La. I you haue bin a Mouse-hunt in your time,
But I will watch you from such watching now.

Exit Lady and Nurse.

  Cap. A iealous hood, a iealous hood,
Now fellow, what there?
Enter three or foure with spits, and logs, and baskets.

  Fel. Things for the Cooke sir, but I know not what

   Cap. Make hast, make hast, sirrah, fetch drier Logs.
Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are

   Fel. I haue a head sir, that will find out logs,
And neuer trouble Peter for the matter

   Cap. Masse and well said, a merrie horson, ha,
Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day.

Play Musicke

The Countie will be here with Musicke straight,
For so he said he would, I heare him neere,
Nurse, wife, what ho? what Nurse I say?
Enter Nurse.

Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her vp,
Ile go and chat with Paris: hie, make hast,
Make hast, the Bridegroome, he is come already:
Make hast I say

   Nur. Mistris, what Mistris? Iuliet? Fast I warrant her she.
Why Lambe, why Lady? fie you sluggabed,
Why Loue I say? Madam, sweet heart: why Bride?
What not a word? You take your peniworths now.
Sleepe for a weeke, for the next night I warrant
The Countie Paris hath set vp his rest,
That you shall rest but little, God forgiue me:
Marrie and Amen: how sound is she a sleepe?
I must needs wake her: Madam, Madam, Madam,
I, let the Countie take you in your bed,
Heele fright you vp yfaith. Will it not be?
What drest, and in your clothes, and downe againe?
I must needs wake you: Lady, Lady, Lady?
Alas, alas, helpe, helpe, my Ladyes dead,
Oh weladay, that euer I was borne,
Some Aqua-vitæ ho, my Lord, my Lady?
  Mo. What noise is heere?
Enter Mother.

  Nur. O lamentable day

   Mo. What is the matter?
  Nur. Looke, looke, oh heauie day

   Mo. O me, O me, my Child, my onely life:
Reuiue, looke vp, or I will die with thee:
Helpe, helpe, call helpe.
Enter Father.

  Fa. For shame bring Iuliet forth, her Lord is come

   Nur. Shee's dead: deceast, shee's dead: alacke the day

   M. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead

   Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas shee's cold,
Her blood is setled and her ioynts are stiffe:
Life and these lips haue long bene seperated:
Death lies on her like an vntimely frost
Vpon the swetest flower of all the field

   Nur. O Lamentable day!
  Mo. O wofull time

   Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile,
Ties vp my tongue, and will not let me speake.
Enter Frier and the Countie.

  Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church?
  Fa. Ready to go, but neuer to returne.
O Sonne, the night before thy wedding day,
Hath death laine with thy wife: there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowred by him.
Death is my Sonne in law, death is my Heire,
My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die,
And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths

   Pa. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face,
And doth it giue me such a sight as this?
  Mo. Accur'st, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day,
Most miserable houre, that ere time saw
In lasting labour of his Pilgrimage.
But one, poore one, one poore and louing Child,
But one thing to reioyce and solace in,
And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight

   Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day,
Most lamentable day, most wofull day,
That euer, euer, I did yet behold.
O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day,
Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this:
O wofull day, O wofull day

   Pa. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine,
Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruell, cruell thee, quite ouerthrowne:
O loue, O life; not life, but loue in death

   Fat. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martir'd, kil'd,
Vncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
To murther, murther our solemnitie?
O Child, O Child; my soule, and not my Child,
Dead art thou, alacke my Child is dead,
And with my Child, my ioyes are buried

   Fri. Peace ho for shame, confusions: Care liues not
In these confusions, heauen and your selfe
Had part in this faire Maid, now heauen hath all,
And all the better is it for the Maid:
Your part in her, you could not keepe from death,
But heauen keepes his part in eternall life:
The most you sought was her promotion,
For 'twas your heauen, she shouldst be aduan'st,
And weepe ye now, seeing she is aduan'st
Aboue the Cloudes, as high as Heauen it selfe?
O in this loue, you loue your Child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
Shee's not well married, that liues married long,
But shee's best married, that dies married yong.
Drie vp your teares, and sticke your Rosemarie
On this faire Coarse, and as the custome is,
And in her best array beare her to Church:
For though some Nature bids all vs lament,
Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment

   Fa. All things that we ordained Festiuall,
Turne from their office to blacke Funerall:
Our instruments to melancholy Bells,
Our wedding cheare, to a sad buriall Feast:
Our solemne Hymnes, to sullen Dyrges change:
Our Bridall flowers serue for a buried Coarse:
And all things change them to the contrarie

   Fri. Sir go you in; and Madam, go with him,
And go sir Paris, euery one prepare
To follow this faire Coarse vnto her graue:
The heauens do lowre vpon you, for some ill:
Moue them no more, by crossing their high will.

Exeunt.

  Mu. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone

   Nur. Honest goodfellowes: Ah put vp, put vp,
For well you know, this is a pitifull case

   Mu. I by my troth, the case may be amended.
Enter Peter.

  Pet. Musitions, oh Musitions,
Hearts ease, hearts ease,
O, and you will haue me liue, play hearts ease

   Mu. Why hearts ease;
  Pet. O Musitions,
Because my heart it selfe plaies, my heart is full

   Mu. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now

   Pet. You will not then?
  Mu. No

   Pet. I will then giue it you soundly

   Mu. What will you giue vs?
  Pet. No money on my faith, but the gleeke.
I will giue you the Minstrell

   Mu. Then will I giue you the Seruing creature

   Peter. Then will I lay the seruing Creatures Dagger
on your pate. I will carie no Crochets, Ile Re you, Ile Fa
you, do you note me?
  Mu. And you Re vs, and Fa vs, you Note vs

   2.M. Pray you put vp your Dagger,
And put out your wit.
Then haue at you with my wit

   Peter. I will drie-beate you with an yron wit,
And put vp my yron Dagger.
Answere me like men:
When griping griefes the heart doth wound, then Musicke
with her siluer sound.
Why siluer sound? why Musicke with her siluer sound?
what say you Simon Catling?
  Mu. Mary sir, because siluer hath a sweet sound

   Pet. Pratest, what say you Hugh Rebicke?
  2.M. I say siluer sound, because Musitions sound for siluer
  Pet. Pratest to, what say you Iames Sound-Post?
  3.Mu. Faith I know not what to say

   Pet. O I cry you mercy, you are the Singer.
I will say for you; it is Musicke with her siluer sound,
Because Musitions haue no gold for sounding:
Then Musicke with her siluer sound, with speedy helpe
doth lend redresse.
Enter.

  Mu. What a pestilent knaue is this same?
  M.2. Hang him Iacke, come weele in here, tarrie for
the Mourners, and stay dinner.
Enter.

Enter Romeo.

  Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe,
My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand:
My bosomes L[ord]. sits lightly in his throne:
And all this day an vnaccustom'd spirit,
Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reuiu'd and was an Emperour.
Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest,
When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy.
Enter Romeo's man.

Newes from Verona, how now Balthazer?
Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier?
How doth my Lady? Is my Father well?
How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe,
For nothing can be ill, is she be well

   Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleepes in Capels Monument,
And her immortall part with Angels liue,
I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault,
And presently tooke Poste to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill newes,
Since you did leaue it for my office Sir

   Rom. Is it euen so?
Then I denie you Starres.
Thou knowest my lodging, get me inke and paper,
And hire Post-Horses, I will hence to night

   Man. I do beseech you sir, haue patience:
Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import
Some misaduenture

   Rom. Tush, thou art deceiu'd,
Leaue me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier?
  Man. No my good Lord.

Exit Man.

  Rom. No matter: Get thee gone,
And hyre those Horses, Ile be with thee straight,
Well Iuliet, I will lie with thee to night:
Lets see for meanes, O mischiefe thou art swift,
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men:
I do remember an Appothecarie,
And here abouts dwells, which late I noted
In tattred weeds, with ouerwhelming browes,
Culling of Simples, meager were his lookes,
Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones:
And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung,
An Allegater stuft, and other skins
Of ill shap'd fishes, and about his shelues,
A beggerly account of emptie boxes ,
Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and mustie seedes,
Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses
Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew.
Noting this penury, to my selfe I said,
An if a man did need a poyson now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him.
O this same thought did but fore-run my need,
And this same needie man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house,
Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut.
What ho? Appothecarie?
Enter Appothecarie.

  App. Who call's so low'd?
  Rom. Come hither man, I see that thou art poore,
Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue
A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare,
As will disperse it selfe through all the veines,
That the life-wearie-taker may fall dead,
And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath,
As violently, as hastie powder fier'd
Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe

   App. Such mortall drugs I haue, but Mantuas law
Is death to any he, that vtters them

   Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse,
And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes,
Need and opression starueth in thy eyes,
Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe:
The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich.
Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this

   App. My pouerty, but not my will consents

   Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will

   App. Put this in any liquid thing you will
And drinke it off, and if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight

   Rom. There's thy Gold,
Worse poyson to mens soules,
Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none,
Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh.
Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me
To Iuliets graue, for there must I vse thee.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier Iohn to Frier Lawrence.

  Iohn. Holy Franciscan Frier, Brother, ho?
Enter Frier Lawrence.

  Law. This same should be the voice of Frier Iohn.
Welcome from Mantua, what sayes Romeo?
Or if his mind be writ, giue me his Letter

   Iohn. Going to find a bare-foote Brother out,
One of our order to associate me,
Here in this Citie visiting the sick,
And finding him, the Searchers of the Towne
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did raigne,
Seal'd vp the doores, and would not let vs forth,
So that my speed to Mantua there was staid

   Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo?
  Iohn. I could not send it, here it is againe,
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearefull were they of infection

   Law. Vnhappie Fortune: by my Brotherhood
The Letter was not nice; but full of charge,
Of deare import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Frier Iohn go hence,
Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it straight
Vnto my Cell

   Iohn. Brother Ile go and bring it thee.
Enter.

  Law. Now must I to the Monument alone,
Within this three houres will faire Iuliet wake,
Shee will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents:
But I will write againe to Mantua,
And keepe her at my Cell till Romeo come,
Poore liuing Coarse, clos'd in a dead mans Tombe,
Enter.

Enter Paris and his Page.

  Par. Giue me thy Torch Boy, hence and stand aloft,
Yet put it out, for I would not be seene:
Vnder yond young Trees lay thee all along,
Holding thy eare close to the hollow ground,
So shall no foot vpon the Churchyard tread,
Being loose, vnfirme with digging vp of Graues,
But thou shalt heare it: whistle then to me,
As signall that thou hearest some thing approach,
Giue me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go

   Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the Churchyard, yet I will aduenture

   Pa. Sweet Flower with flowers thy Bridall bed I strew:
O woe, thy Canopie is dust and stones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dewe,
Or wanting that, with teares destil'd by mones;
The obsequies that I for thee will keepe,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy graue, and weepe.

Whistle Boy.

The Boy giues warning, something doth approach,
What cursed foot wanders this wayes to night,
To crosse my obsequies, and true loues right?
What with a Torch? Muffle me night a while.
Enter Romeo, and Peter.

  Rom. Giue me that Mattocke, & the wrenching Iron,
Hold take this Letter, early in the morning
See thou deliuer it to my Lord and Father,
Giue me the light; vpon thy life I charge thee,
What ere thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloofe,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is partly to behold my Ladies face:
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger,
A precious Ring, a Ring that I must vse,
In deare employment, therefore hence be gone:
But if thou iealous dost returne to prie
In what I further shall intend to do,
By heauen I will teare thee ioynt by ioynt,
And strew this hungry Churchyard with thy limbs:
The time, and my intents are sauage wilde:
More fierce and more inexorable farre,
Them emptie Tygers, or the roaring Sea

   Pet. I will be gone sir, and not trouble you
  Ro. So shalt thou shew me friendship: take thou that,
Liue and be prosperous, and farewell good fellow

   Pet. For all this same, Ile hide me here about,
His lookes I feare, and his intents I doubt

   Rom. Thou detestable mawe, thou wombe of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsell of the earth:
Thus I enforce thy rotten Iawes to open,
And in despight, Ile cram thee with more food

   Par. This is that banisht haughtie Mountague,
That murdred my Loues Cozin; with which griefe,
It is supposed the faire Creature died,
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Stop thy vnhallowed toyle, vile Mountague:
Can vengeance be pursued further then death?
Condemned villaine, I do apprehend thee.
Obey and go with me, for thou must die,
  Rom. I must indeed, and therfore came I hither:
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man,
Flie hence and leaue me, thinke vpon those gone,
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee Youth,
Put not an other sin vpon my head,
By vrging me to furie. O be gone,
By heauen I loue thee better then my selfe,
For I come hither arm'd against my selfe:
Stay not, be gone, liue, and hereafter say,
A mad mans mercy bid thee run away

   Par. I do defie thy commisseration,
And apprehend thee for a Fellon here

   Ro. Wilt thou prouoke me? Then haue at thee Boy

   Pet. O Lord they fight, I will go call the Watch

   Pa. O I am slaine, if thou be mercifull,
Open the Tombe, lay me with Iuliet

   Rom. In faith I will, let me peruse this face:
Mercutius kinsman, Noble Countie Paris,
What said my man, when my betossed soule
Did not attend him as we rode? I thinke
He told me Paris should haue married Iuliet.
Said he not so? Or did I dreame it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talke of Iuliet,
To thinke it was so? O giue me thy hand,
One, writ with me in sowre misfortunes booke.
Ile burie thee in a triumphant graue.
A Graue; O no, a Lanthorne; slaughtred Youth:
For here lies Iuliet, and her beautie makes
This Vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death lie thou there, by a dead man inter'd,
How oft when men are at the point of death,
Haue they beene merrie? Which their Keepers call
A lightning before death? Oh how may I
Call this a lightning? O my Loue, my Wife,
Death that hath suckt the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet vpon thy Beautie:
Thou are not conquer'd: Beauties ensigne yet
Is Crymson in thy lips, and in thy cheekes,
And Deaths pale flag is not aduanced there.
Tybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloudy sheet?
O what more fauour can I do to thee,
Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twaine,
To sunder his that was thy enemie?
Forgiue me Cozen. Ah deare Iuliet:
Why art thou yet so faire? I will beleeue,
Shall I beleeue, that vnsubstantiall death is amorous?
And that the leane abhorred Monster keepes
Thee here in darke to be his Paramour?
For feare of that, I still will stay with thee,
And neuer from this Pallace of dym night
Depart againe: come lie thou in my armes,
Heere's to thy health, where ere thou tumblest in.
O true Appothecarie!
Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
Depart againe; here, here will I remaine,
With Wormes that are thy Chambermaides: O here
Will I set vp my euerlasting rest:
And shake the yoke of inauspicious starres
From this world-wearied flesh: Eyes looke your last:
Armes take your last embrace: And lips, O you
The doores of breath, seale with a righteous kisse
A datelesse bargaine to ingrossing death:
Come bitter conduct, come vnsauory guide,
Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on
The dashing Rocks, thy Sea-sicke wearie Barke:
Heere's to my Loue. O true Appothecary:
Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
Enter Frier with a Lanthorne, Crow, and Spade.

  Fri. St. Francis be my speed, how oft to night
Haue my old feet stumbled at graues? Who's there?
  Man. Here's one, a Friend, & one that knowes you well

   Fri. Blisse be vpon you. Tell me good my Friend
What Torch is yond that vainely lends his light
To grubs, and eyelesse Sculles? As I discerne,
It burneth in the Capels Monument

   Man. It doth so holy sir,
And there's my Master, one that you loue

   Fri. Who is it?
  Man. Romeo

   Fri. How long hath he bin there?
  Man. Full halfe an houre

   Fri. Go with me to the Vault

   Man. I dare not Sir.
My Master knowes not but I am gone hence,
And fearefully did menace me with death,
If I did stay to looke on his entents

   Fri. Stay, then Ile go alone, feares comes vpon me.
O much I feare some ill vnluckie thing

   Man. As I did sleepe vnder this young tree here,
I dreamt my maister and another fought,
And that my Maister slew him

   Fri. Romeo.
Alacke, alacke, what blood is this which staines
The stony entrance of this Sepulcher?
What meane these Masterlesse, and goarie Swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
Romeo, oh pale: who else? what Paris too?
And steept in blood? Ah what an vnkind houre
Is guiltie of this lamentable chance?
The Lady stirs

   Iul. O comfortable Frier, where's my Lord?
I do remember well where I should be:
And there I am, where is my Romeo?
  Fri. I heare some noyse Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and vnnaturall sleepe,
A greater power then we can contradict
Hath thwarted our entents, come, come away,
Thy husband in thy bosome there lies dead:
And Paris too: come Ile dispose of thee,
Among a Sisterhood of holy Nunnes:
Stay not to question, for the watch is comming.
Come, go good Iuliet, I dare no longer stay.
Enter.

  Iul. Go get thee hence, for I will not away,
What's here, A cup clos'd in my true loues hand?
Poyson I see hath bin his timelesse end
O churle, drinke all? and left no friendly drop,
To helpe me after, I will kisse thy lips,
Happlie some poyson yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restoratiue.
Thy lips are warme.
Enter Boy and Watch.

  Watch. Lead Boy, which way?
  Iul. Yea noise?
Then ile be briefe. O happy Dagger.
'Tis in thy sheath, there rust and let me die.

Kils herselfe.

  Boy. This is the place,
There where the Torch doth burne
  Watch. The ground is bloody,
Search about the Churchyard.
Go some of you, who ere you find attach.
Pittifull sight, here lies the Countie slaine,
And Iuliet bleeding, warme and newly dead
Who here hath laine these two dayes buried.
Go tell the Prince, runne to the Capulets,
Raise vp the Mountagues, some others search,
We see the ground whereon these woes do lye,
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Enter Romeo's man.

  Watch. Here's Romeo's man,
We found him in the Churchyard

   Con. Hold him in safety, till the Prince come hither.
Enter Frier, and another Watchman.

  3.Wat. Here is a Frier that trembles, sighes, and weepes
We tooke this Mattocke and this Spade from him,
As he was comming from this Church-yard side

   Con. A great suspition, stay the Frier too.
Enter the Prince.

  Prin. What misaduenture is so earely vp,
That calls our person from our mornings rest?
Enter Capulet and his Wife.

  Cap. What should it be that they so shrike abroad?
  Wife. O the people in the streete crie Romeo.
Some Iuliet, and some Paris, and all runne
With open outcry toward our Monument

   Pri. What feare is this which startles in your eares?
  Wat. Soueraigne, here lies the Countie Paris slaine,
And Romeo dead, and Iuliet dead before,
Warme and new kil'd

   Prin. Search,
Seeke, and know how, this foule murder comes

   Wat. Here is a Frier, and Slaughter'd Romeos man,
With Instruments vpon them fit to open
These dead mens Tombes

   Cap. O heauen!
O wife looke how our Daughter bleedes!
This Dagger hath mistaine, for loe his house
Is empty on the backe of Mountague,
And is misheathed in my Daughters bosome

   Wife. O me, this sight of death, is as a Bell
That warnes my old age to a Sepulcher.
Enter Mountague.

  Pri. Come Mountague, for thou art early vp
To see thy Sonne and Heire, now early downe

   Moun. Alas my liege, my wife is dead to night,
Griefe of my Sonnes exile hath stopt her breath:
What further woe conspires against my age?
  Prin. Looke: and thou shalt see

   Moun. O thou vntaught, what manners is in this,
To presse before thy Father to a graue?
  Prin. Seale vp the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can cleare these ambiguities,
And know their spring, their head, their true descent,
And then I will be generall of your woes,
And lead you euen to death? meane time forbeare,
And let mischance be slaue to patience,
Bring forth the parties of suspition

   Fri. I am the greatest, able to doe least,
Yet most suspected as the time and place
Doth make against me of this direfull murther:
And heere I stand both to impeach and purge
My selfe condemned, and my selfe excus'd

   Prin. Then say at once, what thou dost know in this?
  Fri. I will be briefe, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo there dead, was husband to that Iuliet,
And she there dead, that's Romeos faithfull wife:
I married them; and their stolne marriage day
Was Tybalts Doomesday: whose vntimely death
Banish'd the new-made Bridegroome from this Citie:
For whom (and not for Tybalt) Iuliet pinde.
You, to remoue that siege of Greefe from her,
Betroth'd, and would haue married her perforce
To Countie Paris. Then comes she to me,
And (with wilde lookes) bid me deuise some meanes
To rid her from this second Marriage,
Or in my Cell there would she kill her selfe.
Then gaue I her (so Tutor'd by my Art)
A sleeping Potion, which so tooke effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The forme of death. Meane time, I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come, as this dyre night,
To helpe to take her from her borrowed graue,
Being the time the Potions force should cease.
But he which bore my Letter, Frier Iohn,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my Letter backe. Then all alone,
At the prefixed houre of her waking,
Came I to take her from her Kindreds vault,
Meaning to keepe her closely at my Cell,
Till I conueniently could send to Romeo.
But when I came (some Minute ere the time
Of her awaking) heere vntimely lay
The Noble Paris, and true Romeo dead.
Shee wakes, and I intreated her come foorth,
And beare this worke of Heauen, with patience:
But then, a noyse did scarre me from the Tombe,
And she (too desperate) would not go with me,
But (as it seemes) did violence on her selfe.
All this I know, and to the Marriage her Nurse is priuy:
And if ought in this miscarried by my fault,
Let my old life be sacrific'd, some houre before the time,
Vnto the rigour of seuerest Law

   Prin. We still haue knowne thee for a Holy man.
Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to this?
  Boy. I brought my Master newes of Iuliets death,
And then in poste he came from Mantua
To this same place, to this same Monument.
This Letter he early bid me giue his Father,
And threatned me with death, going in the Vault,
If I departed not, and left him there

   Prin. Giue me the Letter, I will look on it.
Where is the Counties Page that rais'd the Watch?
Sirra, what made your Master in this place?
  Page. He came with flowres to strew his Ladies graue,
And bid me stand aloofe, and so I did:
Anon comes one with light to ope the Tombe,
And by and by my Maister drew on him,
And then I ran away to call the Watch

   Prin. This Letter doth make good the Friers words,
Their course of Loue, the tydings of her death:
And heere he writes, that he did buy a poyson
Of a poore Pothecarie, and therewithall
Came to this Vault to dye, and lye with Iuliet.
Where be these Enemies? Capulet, Mountague,
See what a scourge is laide vpon your hate,
That Heauen finds meanes to kill your ioyes with Loue;
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Haue lost a brace of Kinsmen: All are punish'd

   Cap. O Brother Mountague, giue me thy hand,
This is my Daughters ioynture, for no more
Can I demand

   Moun. But I can giue thee more:
For I will raise her Statue in pure Gold,
That whiles Verona by that name is knowne,
There shall no figure at that Rate be set,
As that of True and Faithfull Iuliet

   Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his Lady ly,
Poore sacrifices of our enmity

   Prin. A glooming peace this morning with it brings,
The Sunne for sorrow will not shew his head;
Go hence, to haue more talke of these sad things,
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished.
For neuer was a Storie of more Wo,
Then this of Iuliet, and her Romeo.

Exeunt. omnes

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF ROMEO and IVLIET

The Life of Timon of Athens

Enter Poet, Painter, Ieweller, Merchant, and Mercer, at seuerall
doores.

  Poet. Good day Sir

   Pain. I am glad y'are well

   Poet. I haue not seene you long, how goes
the World?
  Pain. It weares sir, as it growes

   Poet. I that's well knowne:
But what particular Rarity? What strange,
Which manifold record not matches: see
Magicke of Bounty, all these spirits thy power
Hath coniur'd to attend.
I know the Merchant

   Pain. I know them both: th' others a Ieweller

   Mer. O 'tis a worthy Lord

   Iew. Nay that's most fixt

   Mer. A most incomparable man, breath'd as it were,
To an vntyreable and continuate goodnesse:
He passes

   Iew. I haue a Iewell heere

   Mer. O pray let's see't. For the Lord Timon, sir?
  Iewel. If he will touch the estimate. But for that-
  Poet. When we for recompence haue prais'd the vild,
It staines the glory in that happy Verse,
Which aptly sings the good

   Mer. 'Tis a good forme

   Iewel. And rich: heere is a Water looke ye

   Pain. You are rapt sir, in some worke, some Dedication
to the great Lord

   Poet. A thing slipt idlely from me.
Our Poesie is as a Gowne, which vses
From whence 'tis nourisht: the fire i'th' Flint
Shewes not, till it be strooke: our gentle flame
Prouokes it selfe, and like the currant flyes
Each bound it chases. What haue you there?
  Pain. A Picture sir: when comes your Booke forth?
  Poet. Vpon the heeles of my presentment sir.
Let's see your peece

   Pain. 'Tis a good Peece

   Poet. So 'tis, this comes off well, and excellent

   Pain. Indifferent

   Poet. Admirable: How this grace
Speakes his owne standing: what a mentall power
This eye shootes forth? How bigge imagination
Moues in this Lip, to th' dumbnesse of the gesture,
One might interpret

   Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life:
Heere is a touch: Is't good?
  Poet. I will say of it,
It Tutors Nature, Artificiall strife
Liues in these toutches, liuelier then life.
Enter certaine Senators.

  Pain. How this Lord is followed

   Poet. The Senators of Athens, happy men

   Pain. Looke moe

   Po. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors,
I haue in this rough worke, shap'd out a man
Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hugge
With amplest entertainment: My free drift
Halts not particularly, but moues it selfe
In a wide Sea of wax, no leuell'd malice
Infects one comma in the course I hold,
But flies an Eagle flight, bold, and forth on,
Leauing no Tract behinde

   Pain. How shall I vnderstand you?
  Poet. I will vnboult to you.
You see how all Conditions, how all Mindes,
As well of glib and slipp'ry Creatures, as
Of Graue and austere qualitie, tender downe
Their seruices to Lord Timon: his large Fortune,
Vpon his good and gracious Nature hanging,
Subdues and properties to his loue and tendance
All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glasse-fac'd Flatterer
To Apemantus, that few things loues better
Then to abhorre himselfe; euen hee drops downe
The knee before him, and returnes in peace
Most rich in Timons nod

   Pain. I saw them speake together

   Poet. Sir, I haue vpon a high and pleasant hill
Feign'd Fortune to be thron'd.
The Base o'th' Mount
Is rank'd with all deserts, all kinde of Natures
That labour on the bosome of this Sphere,
To propagate their states; among'st them all,
Whose eyes are on this Soueraigne Lady fixt,
One do I personate of Lord Timons frame,
Whom Fortune with her Iuory hand wafts to her,
Whose present grace, to present slaues and seruants
Translates his Riuals

   Pain. 'Tis conceyu'd, to scope
This Throne, this Fortune, and this Hill me thinkes
With one man becken'd from the rest below,
Bowing his head against the sleepy Mount
To climbe his happinesse, would be well exprest
In our Condition

   Poet. Nay Sir, but heare me on:
All those which were his Fellowes but of late,
Some better then his valew; on the moment
Follow his strides, his Lobbies fill with tendance,
Raine Sacrificiall whisperings in his eare,
Make Sacred euen his styrrop, and through him
Drinke the free Ayre

   Pain. I marry, what of these?
  Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood
Spurnes downe her late beloued; all his Dependants
Which labour'd after him to the Mountaines top,
Euen on their knees and hand, let him sit downe,
Not one accompanying his declining foot

   Pain. Tis common:
A thousand morall Paintings I can shew,
That shall demonstrate these quicke blowes of Fortunes,
More pregnantly then words. Yet you do well,
To shew Lord Timon, that meane eyes haue seene
The foot aboue the head.
Trumpets sound.

Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously to euery Sutor.

  Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?
  Mes. I my good Lord, fiue Talents is his debt,
His meanes most short, his Creditors most straite:
Your Honourable Letter he desires
To those haue shut him vp, which failing,
Periods his comfort

   Tim. Noble Ventidius, well:
I am not of that Feather, to shake off
My Friend when he must neede me. I do know him
A Gentleman, that well deserues a helpe,
Which he shall haue. Ile pay the debt, and free him

   Mes. Your Lordship euer bindes him

   Tim. Commend me to him, I will send his ransome,
And being enfranchized bid him come to me;
'Tis not enough to helpe the Feeble vp,
But to support him after. Fare you well

   Mes. All happinesse to your Honor.
Enter.

Enter an old Athenian.

  Oldm. Lord Timon, heare me speake

   Tim. Freely good Father

   Oldm. Thou hast a Seruant nam'd Lucilius

   Tim. I haue so: What of him?
  Oldm. Most Noble Timon, call the man before thee

   Tim. Attends he heere, or no? Lucillius

   Luc. Heere at your Lordships seruice

   Oldm. This Fellow heere, L[ord]. Timon, this thy Creature,
By night frequents my house. I am a man
That from my first haue beene inclin'd to thrift,
And my estate deserues an Heyre more rais'd,
Then one which holds a Trencher

   Tim. Well: what further?
  Old. One onely Daughter haue I, no Kin else,
On whom I may conferre what I haue got:
The Maid is faire, a'th' youngest for a Bride,
And I haue bred her at my deerest cost
In Qualities of the best. This man of thine
Attempts her loue: I prythee (Noble Lord)
Ioyne with me to forbid him her resort,
My selfe haue spoke in vaine

   Tim. The man is honest

   Oldm. Therefore he will be Timon,
His honesty rewards him in it selfe,
It must not beare my Daughter

   Tim. Does she loue him?
  Oldm. She is yong and apt:
Our owne precedent passions do instruct vs
What leuities in youth

   Tim. Loue you the Maid?
  Luc. I my good Lord, and she accepts of it

   Oldm. If in her Marriage my consent be missing,
I call the Gods to witnesse, I will choose
Mine heyre from forth the Beggers of the world,
And dispossesse her all

   Tim. How shall she be endowed,
If she be mated with an equall Husband?
  Oldm. Three Talents on the present; in future, all

   Tim. This Gentleman of mine
Hath seru'd me long:
To build his Fortune, I will straine a little,
For 'tis a Bond in men. Giue him thy Daughter,
What you bestow, in him Ile counterpoize,
And make him weigh with her

   Oldm. Most Noble Lord,
Pawne me to this your Honour, she is his

   Tim. My hand to thee,
Mine Honour on my promise

   Luc. Humbly I thanke your Lordship, neuer may
That state or Fortune fall into my keeping,
Which is not owed to you.

Exit

  Poet. Vouchsafe my Labour,
And long liue your Lordship

   Tim. I thanke you, you shall heare from me anon:
Go not away. What haue you there, my Friend?
  Pain. A peece of Painting, which I do beseech
Your Lordship to accept

   Tim. Painting is welcome.
The Painting is almost the Naturall man:
For since Dishonor Traffickes with mans Nature,
He is but out-side: These Pensil'd Figures are
Euen such as they giue out. I like your worke,
And you shall finde I like it; Waite attendance
Till you heare further from me

   Pain. The Gods preserue ye

   Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand.
We must needs dine together: sir your Iewell
Hath suffered vnder praise

   Iewel. What my Lord, dispraise?
  Tim. A meere saciety of Commendations,
If I should pay you for't as 'tis extold,
It would vnclew me quite

   Iewel. My Lord, 'tis rated
As those which sell would giue: but you well know,
Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu't deere Lord,
You mend the Iewell by the wearing it

   Tim. Well mock'd.
Enter Apermantus.

  Mer. No my good Lord, he speakes y common toong
Which all men speake with him

   Tim. Looke who comes heere, will you be chid?
  Iewel. Wee'l beare with your Lordship

   Mer. Hee'l spare none

   Tim. Good morrow to thee,
Gentle Apermantus

   Ape. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow.
When thou art Timons dogge, and these Knaues honest

   Tim. Why dost thou call them Knaues, thou know'st
them not?
  Ape. Are they not Athenians?
  Tim. Yes

   Ape. Then I repent not

   Iew. You know me, Apemantus?
  Ape. Thou know'st I do, I call'd thee by thy name

   Tim. Thou art proud Apemantus?
  Ape. Of nothing so much, as that I am not like Timon
  Tim. Whether art going?
  Ape. To knocke out an honest Athenians braines

   Tim. That's a deed thou't dye for

   Ape. Right, if doing nothing be death by th' Law

   Tim. How lik'st thou this picture Apemantus?
  Ape. The best, for the innocence

   Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it

   Ape. He wrought better that made the Painter, and
yet he's but a filthy peece of worke

   Pain. Y'are a Dogge

   Ape. Thy Mothers of my generation: what's she, if I
be a Dogge?
  Tim. Wilt dine with me Apemantus?
  Ape. No: I eate not Lords

   Tim. And thou should'st, thoud'st anger Ladies

   Ape. O they eate Lords;
So they come by great bellies

   Tim. That's a lasciuious apprehension

   Ape. So, thou apprehend'st it,
Take it for thy labour

   Tim. How dost thou like this Iewell, Apemantus?
  Ape. Not so well as plain-dealing, which wil not cast
a man a Doit

   Tim. What dost thou thinke 'tis worth?
  Ape. Not worth my thinking.
How now Poet?
  Poet. How now Philosopher?
  Ape. Thou lyest

   Poet. Art not one?
  Ape. Yes

   Poet. Then I lye not

   Ape. Art not a Poet?
  Poet. Yes

   Ape. Then thou lyest:
Looke in thy last worke, where thou hast feign'd him a
worthy Fellow

   Poet. That's not feign'd, he is so

   Ape. Yes he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy
labour. He that loues to be flattered, is worthy o'th flatterer.
Heauens, that I were a Lord

   Tim. What wouldst do then Apemantus?
  Ape. E'ne as Apemantus does now, hate a Lord with
my heart

   Tim. What thy selfe?
  Ape. I

   Tim. Wherefore?
  Ape. That I had no angry wit to be a Lord.
Art not thou a Merchant?
  Mer. I Apemantus

   Ape. Traffick confound thee, if the Gods will not

   Mer. If Trafficke do it, the Gods do it

   Ape. Traffickes thy God, & thy God confound thee.

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.

  Tim. What Trumpets that?
  Mes. 'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty Horse
All of Companionship

   Tim. Pray entertaine them, giue them guide to vs.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence
Till I haue thankt you: when dinners done
Shew me this peece, I am ioyfull of your sights.
Enter Alcibiades with the rest.

Most welcome Sir

   Ape. So, so; their Aches contract, and sterue your
supple ioynts: that there should bee small loue amongest
these sweet Knaues, and all this Curtesie. The straine of
mans bred out into Baboon and Monkey

   Alc. Sir, you haue sau'd my longing, and I feed
Most hungerly on your sight

   Tim. Right welcome Sir:
Ere we depart, wee'l share a bounteous time
In different pleasures.
Pray you let vs in.

Exeunt.

Enter two Lords.

  1.Lord What time a day is't Apemantus?
  Ape. Time to be honest

   1 That time serues still

   Ape. The most accursed thou that still omitst it

   2 Thou art going to Lord Timons Feast

   Ape. I, to see meate fill Knaues, and Wine heat fooles

   2 Farthee well, farthee well

   Ape. Thou art a Foole to bid me farewell twice

   2 Why Apemantus?
  Ape. Should'st haue kept one to thy selfe, for I meane
to giue thee none

   1 Hang thy selfe

   Ape. No I will do nothing at thy bidding:
Make thy requests to thy Friend

   2 Away vnpeaceable Dogge,
Or Ile spurne thee hence

   Ape. I will flye like a dogge, the heeles a'th' Asse

   1 Hee's opposite to humanity.
Come shall we in,
And taste Lord Timons bountie: he out-goes
The verie heart of kindnesse

   2 He powres it out: Plutus the God of Gold
Is but his Steward: no meede but he repayes
Seuen-fold aboue it selfe: No guift to him,
But breeds the giuer a returne: exceeding
All vse of quittance

   1 The Noblest minde he carries,
That euer gouern'd man

   2 Long may he liue in Fortunes. Shall we in?
Ile keepe you Company.

Exeunt.

Hoboyes Playing lowd Musicke. A great Banquet seru'd in: and
then, Enter
Lord Timon, the States, the Athenian Lords, Ventigius which
Timon redeem'd
from prison. Then comes dropping after all Apemantus
discontentedly like
himselfe.

  Ventig. Most honoured Timon,
It hath pleas'd the Gods to remember my Fathers age,
And call him to long peace:
He is gone happy, and has left me rich:
Then, as in gratefull Vertue I am bound
To your free heart, I do returne those Talents
Doubled with thankes and seruice, from whose helpe
I deriu'd libertie

   Tim. O by no meanes,
Honest Ventigius: You mistake my loue,
I gaue it freely euer, and ther's none
Can truely say he giues, if he receiues:
If our betters play at that game, we must not dare
To imitate them: faults that are rich are faire

   Vint. A Noble spirit

   Tim. Nay my Lords, Ceremony was but deuis'd at first
To set a glosse on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,
Recanting goodnesse, sorry ere 'tis showne:
But where there is true friendship, there needs none.
Pray sit, more welcome are ye to my Fortunes,
Then my Fortunes to me

   1.Lord. My Lord, we alwaies haue confest it

   Aper. Ho ho, confest it? Handg'd it? Haue you not?
  Timo. O Apermantus, you are welcome

   Aper. No: You shall not make me welcome:
I come to haue thee thrust me out of doores

   Tim. Fie, th'art a churle, ye'haue got a humour there
Does not become a man, 'tis much too blame:
They say my Lords, Ira furor breuis est,
But yond man is verie angrie.
Go, let him haue a Table by himselfe:
For he does neither affect companie,
Nor is he fit for't indeed

   Aper. Let me stay at thine apperill Timon,
I come to obserue, I giue thee warning on't

   Tim. I take no heede of thee: Th'art an Athenian,
therefore welcome: I my selfe would haue no power,
prythee let my meate make thee silent

   Aper. I scorne thy meate, 'twould choake me: for I
should nere flatter thee. Oh you Gods! What a number
of men eats Timon, and he sees 'em not? It greeues me
to see so many dip there meate in one mans blood, and
all the madnesse is, he cheeres them vp too.
I wonder men dare trust themselues with men.
Me thinks they should enuite them without kniues,
Good for there meate, and safer for their liues.
There's much example for't, the fellow that sits next him,
now parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in
a diuided draught: is the readiest man to kill him. 'Tas
beene proued, if I were a huge man I should feare to
drinke at meales, least they should spie my wind-pipes
dangerous noates, great men should drinke with harnesse
on their throates

   Tim. My Lord in heart: and let the health go round

   2.Lord. Let it flow this way my good Lord

   Aper. Flow this way? A braue fellow. He keepes his
tides well, those healths will make thee and thy state
looke ill, Timon.
Heere's that which is too weake to be a sinner,
Honest water, which nere left man i'th' mire:
This and my food are equals, there's no ods,
Feasts are to proud to giue thanks to the Gods.

Apermantus Grace.

Immortall Gods, I craue no pelfe,
I pray for no man but my selfe,
Graunt I may neuer proue so fond,
To trust man on his Oath or Bond.
Or a Harlot for her weeping,
Or a Dogge that seemes asleeping,
Or a keeper with my freedome,
Or my friends if I should need 'em.
Amen. So fall too't:
Richmen sin, and I eat root.
Much good dich thy good heart, Apermantus
  Tim. Captaine,
Alcibiades, your hearts in the field now

   Alci. My heart is euer at your seruice, my Lord

   Tim. You had rather be at a breakefast of Enemies,
then a dinner of Friends

   Alc. So they were bleeding new my Lord, there's no
meat like 'em, I could wish my best friend at such a Feast

   Aper. Would all those Flatterers were thine Enemies
then, that then thou might'st kill 'em: & bid me to 'em

   1.Lord. Might we but haue that happinesse my Lord,
that you would once vse our hearts, whereby we might
expresse some part of our zeales, we should thinke our
selues for euer perfect

   Timon. Oh no doubt my good Friends, but the Gods
themselues haue prouided that I shall haue much helpe
from you: how had you beene my Friends else. Why
haue you that charitable title from thousands? Did not
you chiefely belong to my heart? I haue told more of
you to my selfe, then you can with modestie speake in
your owne behalfe. And thus farre I confirme you. Oh
you Gods (thinke I,) what need we haue any Friends; if
we should nere haue need of 'em? They were the most
needlesse Creatures liuing; should we nere haue vse for
'em? And would most resemble sweete Instruments
hung vp in Cases, that keepes there sounds to themselues.
Why I haue often wisht my selfe poorer, that
I might come neerer to you: we are borne to do benefits.
And what better or properer can we call our owne,
then the riches of our Friends? Oh what a pretious comfort
'tis, to haue so many like Brothers commanding
one anothers Fortunes. Oh ioyes, e'ne made away er't
can be borne: mine eies cannot hold out water me thinks
to forget their Faults. I drinke to you

   Aper. Thou weep'st to make them drinke, Timon

   2.Lord. Ioy had the like conception in our eies,
And at that instant, like a babe sprung vp

   Aper. Ho, ho: I laugh to thinke that babe a bastard

   3.Lord. I promise you my Lord you mou'd me much

   Aper. Much.

Sound Tucket. Enter the Maskers of Amazons, with Lutes in their
hands,
dauncing and playing.

  Tim. What meanes that Trumpe? How now?
Enter Seruant.

  Ser. Please you my Lord, there are certaine Ladies
Most desirous of admittance

   Tim. Ladies? what are their wils?
  Ser. There comes with them a fore-runner my Lord,
which beares that office, to signifie their pleasures

   Tim. I pray let them be admitted.
Enter Cupid with the Maske of Ladies.

  Cup. Haile to thee worthy Timon and to all that of
his Bounties taste: the fiue best Sences acknowledge thee
their Patron, and come freely to gratulate thy plentious
bosome.
There tast, touch all, pleas'd from thy Table rise:
They onely now come but to Feast thine eies

   Timo. They'r welcome all, let 'em haue kind admittance.
Musicke make their welcome

   Luc. You see my Lord, how ample y'are belou'd

   Aper. Hoyday,
What a sweepe of vanitie comes this way.
They daunce? They are madwomen,
Like Madnesse is the glory of this life,
As this pompe shewes to a little oyle and roote.
We make our selues Fooles, to disport our selues,
And spend our Flatteries, to drinke those men,
Vpon whose Age we voyde it vp agen
With poysonous Spight and Enuy.
Who liues, that's not depraued, or depraues;
Who dyes, that beares not one spurne to their graues
Of their Friends guift:
I should feare, those that dance before me now,
Would one day stampe vpon me: 'Tas bene done,
Men shut their doores against a setting Sunne.

The Lords rise from Table, with much adoring of Timon, and to
shew their
loues, each single out an Amazon, and all Dance, men with
women, a loftie
straine or two to the Hoboyes, and cease.

  Tim. You haue done our pleasures
Much grace (faire Ladies)
Set a faire fashion on our entertainment,
Which was not halfe so beautifull, and kinde:
You haue added worth vntoo't, and luster,
And entertain'd me with mine owne deuice.
I am to thanke you for't

   1 Lord. My Lord you take vs euen at the best

   Aper. Faith for the worst is filthy, and would not hold
taking, I doubt me

   Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you,
Please you to dispose your selues

   All La. Most thankfully, my Lord.

Exeunt.

  Tim. Flauius

   Fla. My Lord

   Tim. The little Casket bring me hither

   Fla. Yes, my Lord. More Iewels yet?
There is no crossing him in's humor,
Else I should tell him well, yfaith I should;
When all's spent, hee'ld be crost then, and he could:
'Tis pitty Bounty had not eyes behinde,
That man might ne're be wretched for his minde.
Enter.

  1 Lord. Where be our men?
  Ser. Heere my Lord, in readinesse

   2 Lord. Our Horses

   Tim. O my Friends:
I haue one word to say to you: Looke you, my good L[ord].
I must intreat you honour me so much,
As to aduance this Iewell, accept it, and weare it,
Kinde my Lord

   1 Lord. I am so farre already in your guifts

   All. So are we all.
Enter a Seruant.

  Ser. My Lord, there are certaine Nobles of the Senate
newly alighted, and come to visit you

   Tim. They are fairely welcome.
Enter Flauius.

  Fla. I beseech your Honor, vouchsafe me a word, it
does concerne you neere

   Tim. Neere? why then another time Ile heare thee.
I prythee let's be prouided to shew them entertainment

   Fla. I scarse know how.
Enter another Seruant.

  Ser. May it please your Honor, Lord Lucius
(Out of his free loue) hath presented to you
Foure Milke-white Horses, trapt in Siluer

   Tim. I shall accept them fairely: let the Presents
Be worthily entertain'd.
Enter a third Seruant.

How now? What newes?
  3.Ser. Please you my Lord, that honourable Gentleman
Lord Lucullus, entreats your companie to morrow,
to hunt with him, and ha's sent your Honour two brace
of Grey-hounds

   Tim. Ile hunt with him,
And let them be receiu'd, not without faire Reward

   Fla. What will this come to?
He commands vs to prouide, and giue great guifts, and
all out of an empty Coffer:
Nor will he know his Purse, or yeeld me this,
To shew him what a Begger his heart is,
Being of no power to make his wishes good.
His promises flye so beyond his state,
That what he speaks is all in debt, he ows for eu'ry word:
He is so kinde, that he now payes interest for't;
His Land's put to their Bookes. Well, would I were
Gently put out of Office, before I were forc'd out:
Happier is he that has no friend to feede,
Then such that do e'ne Enemies exceede.
I bleed inwardly for my Lord.

Exit

  Tim. You do your selues much wrong,
You bate too much of your owne merits.
Heere my Lord, a trifle of our Loue

   2.Lord. With more then common thankes
I will receyue it

   3.Lord. O he's the very soule of Bounty

   Tim. And now I remember my Lord, you gaue good
words the other day of a Bay Courser I rod on. Tis yours
because you lik'd it

   1.L. Oh, I beseech you pardon mee, my Lord, in that

   Tim. You may take my word my Lord: I know no
man can iustly praise, but what he does affect. I weighe
my Friends affection with mine owne: Ile tell you true,
Ile call to you

   All Lor. O none so welcome

   Tim. I take all, and your seuerall visitations
So kinde to heart, 'tis not enough to giue:
Me thinkes, I could deale Kingdomes to my Friends,
And nere be wearie. Alcibiades,
Thou art a Soldiour, therefore sildome rich,
It comes in Charitie to thee: for all thy liuing
Is mong'st the dead: and all the Lands thou hast
Lye in a pitcht field

   Alc. I, defil'd Land, my Lord

   1.Lord. We are so vertuously bound

   Tim. And so am I to you

   2.Lord. So infinitely endeer'd

   Tim. All to you. Lights, more Lights

   1.Lord. The best of Happines, Honor, and Fortunes
Keepe with you Lord Timon

   Tim. Ready for his Friends.

Exeunt. Lords

  Aper. What a coiles heere, seruing of beckes, and iutting
out of bummes. I doubt whether their Legges be
worth the summes that are giuen for 'em.
Friendships full of dregges,
Me thinkes false hearts, should neuer haue sound legges.
Thus honest Fooles lay out their wealth on Curtsies

   Tim. Now Apermantus (if thou wert not sullen)
I would be good to thee

   Aper. No, Ile nothing; for if I should be brib'd too,
there would be none left to raile vpon thee, and then thou
wouldst sinne the faster. Thou giu'st so long Timon (I
feare me) thou wilt giue away thy selfe in paper shortly.
What needs these Feasts, pompes, and Vaine-glories?
  Tim. Nay, and you begin to raile on Societie once, I
am sworne not to giue regard to you. Farewell, & come
with better Musicke.

Exit

  Aper. So: Thou wilt not heare mee now, thou shalt
not then. Ile locke thy heauen from thee:
Oh that mens eares should be
To Counsell deafe, but not to Flatterie.

Exit

Enter a Senator.

  Sen. And late fiue thousand: to Varro and to Isidore
He owes nine thousand, besides my former summe,
Which makes it fiue and twenty. Still in motion
Of raging waste? It cannot hold, it will not.
If I want Gold, steale but a beggers Dogge,
And giue it Timon, why the Dogge coines Gold.
If I would sell my Horse, and buy twenty moe
Better then he; why giue my Horse to Timon.
Aske nothing, giue it him, it Foles me straight
And able Horses: No Porter at his gate,
But rather one that smiles, and still inuites
All that passe by. It cannot hold, no reason
Can sound his state in safety. Caphis hoa,
Caphis I say.
Enter Caphis.

  Ca. Heere sir, what is your pleasure

   Sen. Get on your cloake, & hast you to Lord Timon,
Importune him for my Moneyes, be not ceast
With slight deniall; nor then silenc'd, when
Commend me to your Master, and the Cap
Playes in the right hand, thus: but tell him,
My Vses cry to me; I must serue my turne
Out of mine owne, his dayes and times are past,
And my reliances on his fracted dates
Haue smit my credit. I loue, and honour him,
But must not breake my backe, to heale his finger.
Immediate are my needs, and my releefe
Must not be tost and turn'd to me in words,
But finde supply immediate. Get you gone,
Put on a most importunate aspect,
A visage of demand: for I do feare
When euery Feather stickes in his owne wing,
Lord Timon will be left a naked gull,
Which flashes now a Phoenix, get you gone

   Ca. I go sir

   Sen. I go sir?
Take the Bonds along with you,
And haue the dates in. Come

   Ca. I will Sir

   Sen. Go.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, with many billes in his hand.

  Stew. No care, no stop, so senselesse of expence,
That he will neither know how to maintaine it,
Nor cease his flow of Riot. Takes no accompt
How things go from him, nor resume no care
Of what is to continue: neuer minde,
Was to be so vnwise, to be so kinde.
What shall be done, he will not heare, till feele:
I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting.
Fye, fie, fie, fie.
Enter Caphis, Isidore, and Varro.

  Cap. Good euen Varro: what, you come for money?
  Var. Is't not your businesse too?
  Cap. It is, and yours too, Isidore?
  Isid. It is so

   Cap. Would we were all discharg'd

   Var. I feare it,
  Cap. Heere comes the Lord.
Enter Timon, and his Traine

   Tim. So soone as dinners done, wee'l forth againe
My Alcibiades. With me, what is your will?
  Cap. My Lord, heere is a note of certaine dues

   Tim. Dues? whence are you?
  Cap. Of Athens heere, my Lord

   Tim. Go to my Steward

   Cap. Please it your Lordship, he hath put me off
To the succession of new dayes this moneth:
My Master is awak'd by great Occasion,
To call vpon his owne, and humbly prayes you,
That with your other Noble parts, you'l suite,
In giuing him his right

   Tim. Mine honest Friend,
I prythee but repaire to me next morning

   Cap. Nay, good my Lord

   Tim. Containe thy selfe, good Friend

   Var. One Varroes seruant, my good Lord

   Isid. From Isidore, he humbly prayes your speedy payment

   Cap. If you did know my Lord, my Masters wants

   Var. 'Twas due on forfeyture my Lord, sixe weekes,
and past

   Isi. Your Steward puts me off my Lord, and I
Am sent expressely to your Lordship

   Tim. Giue me breath:
I do beseech you good my Lords keepe on,
Ile waite vpon you instantly. Come hither: pray you
How goes the world, that I am thus encountred
With clamorous demands of debt, broken Bonds,
And the detention of long since due debts
Against my Honor?
  Stew. Please you Gentlemen,
The time is vnagreeable to this businesse:
Your importunacie cease, till after dinner,
That I may make his Lordship vnderstand
Wherefore you are not paid

   Tim. Do so my Friends, see them well entertain'd

   Stew. Pray draw neere.
Enter.

Enter Apemantus and Foole.

  Caph. Stay, stay, here comes the Foole with Apemantus,
let's ha some sport with 'em

   Var. Hang him, hee'l abuse vs

   Isid. A plague vpon him dogge

   Var. How dost Foole?
  Ape. Dost Dialogue with thy shadow?
  Var. I speake not to thee

   Ape. No 'tis to thy selfe. Come away

   Isi. There's the Foole hangs on your backe already

   Ape. No thou stand'st single, th'art not on him yet

   Cap. Where's the Foole now?
  Ape. He last ask'd the question. Poore Rogues, and
Vsurers men, Bauds betweene Gold and want

   Al. What are we Apemantus?
  Ape. Asses

   All. Why?
  Ape. That you ask me what you are, & do not know
your selues. Speake to 'em Foole

   Foole. How do you Gentlemen?
  All. Gramercies good Foole:
How does your Mistris?
  Foole. She's e'ne setting on water to scal'd such Chickens
as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth

   Ape. Good, Gramercy.
Enter Page.

  Foole. Looke you, heere comes my Masters Page

   Page. Why how now Captaine? what do you in this
wise Company.
How dost thou Apermantus?
  Ape. Would I had a Rod in my mouth, that I might
answer thee profitably

   Boy. Prythee Apemantus reade me the superscription
of these Letters, I know not which is which

   Ape. Canst not read?
  Page. No

   Ape. There will litle Learning dye then that day thou
art hang'd. This is to Lord Timon, this to Alcibiades. Go
thou was't borne a Bastard, and thou't dye a Bawd

   Page. Thou was't whelpt a Dogge, and thou shalt
famish a Dogges death.
Answer not, I am gone.

Exit

  Ape. E'ne so thou out-runst Grace,
Foole I will go with you to Lord Timons

   Foole. Will you leaue me there?
  Ape. If Timon stay at home.
You three serue three Vsurers?
  All. I would they seru'd vs

   Ape. So would I:
As good a tricke as euer Hangman seru'd Theefe

   Foole. Are you three Vsurers men?
  All. I Foole

   Foole. I thinke no Vsurer, but ha's a Foole to his Seruant.
My Mistris is one, and I am her Foole: when men
come to borrow of your Masters, they approach sadly,
and go away merry: but they enter my Masters house
merrily, and go away sadly. The reason of this?
  Var. I could render one

   Ap. Do it then, that we may account thee a Whoremaster,
and a Knaue, which notwithstanding thou shalt
be no lesse esteemed

   Varro. What is a Whoremaster Foole?
  Foole. A Foole in good cloathes, and something like
thee. 'Tis a spirit, sometime t' appeares like a Lord, somtime
like a Lawyer, sometime like a Philosopher, with
two stones moe then's artificiall one. Hee is verie often
like a Knight; and generally, in all shapes that man goes
vp and downe in, from fourescore to thirteen, this spirit
walkes in

   Var. Thou art not altogether a Foole

   Foole. Nor thou altogether a Wise man,
As much foolerie as I haue, so much wit thou lack'st

   Ape. That answer might haue become Apemantus

   All. Aside, aside, heere comes Lord Timon.
Enter Timon and Steward.

  Ape. Come with me (Foole) come

   Foole. I do not alwayes follow Louer, elder Brother,
and Woman, sometime the Philosopher

   Stew. Pray you walke neere,
Ile speake with you anon.

Exeunt.

  Tim. You make me meruell wherefore ere this time
Had you not fully laide my state before me,
That I might so haue rated my expence
As I had leaue of meanes

   Stew. You would not heare me:
At many leysures I propose

   Tim. Go too:
Perchance some single vantages you tooke,
When my indisposition put you backe,
And that vnaptnesse made your minister
Thus to excuse your selfe

   Stew. O my good Lord,
At many times I brought in my accompts,
Laid them before you, you would throw them off,
And say you sound them in mine honestie,
When for some trifling present you haue bid me
Returne so much, I haue shooke my head, and wept:
Yea 'gainst th' Authoritie of manners, pray'd you
To hold your hand more close: I did indure
Not sildome, nor no slight checkes, when I haue
Prompted you in the ebbe of your estate,
And your great flow of debts; my lou'd Lord,
Though you heare now (too late) yet nowes a time,
The greatest of your hauing, lackes a halfe,
To pay your present debts

   Tim. Let all my Land be sold

   Stew. 'Tis all engag'd, some forfeyted and gone,
And what remaines will hardly stop the mouth
Of present dues; the future comes apace:
What shall defend the interim, and at length
How goes our reck'ning?
  Tim. To Lacedemon did my Land extend

   Stew. O my good Lord, the world is but a word,
Were it all yours, to giue it in a breath,
How quickely were it gone

   Tim. You tell me true

   Stew. If you suspect my Husbandry or Falshood,
Call me before th' exactest Auditors,
And set me on the proofe. So the Gods blesse me,
When all our Offices haue beene opprest
With riotous Feeders, when our Vaults haue wept
With drunken spilth of Wine; when euery roome
Hath blaz'd with Lights, and braid with Minstrelsie,
I haue retyr'd me to a wastefull cocke,
And set mine eyes at flow

   Tim. Prythee no more

   Stew. Heauens, haue I said, the bounty of this Lord:
How many prodigall bits haue Slaues and Pezants
This night englutted: who is not Timons,
What heart, head, sword, force, meanes, but is L[ord]. Timons:
Great Timon, Noble, Worthy, Royall Timon:
Ah, when the meanes are gone, that buy this praise,
The breath is gone, whereof this praise is made:
Feast won, fast lost; one cloud of Winter showres,
These flyes are coucht

   Tim. Come sermon me no further.
No villanous bounty yet hath past my heart;
Vnwisely, not ignobly haue I giuen.
Why dost thou weepe, canst thou the conscience lacke,
To thinke I shall lacke friends: secure thy heart,
If I would broach the vessels of my loue,
And try the argument of hearts, by borrowing,
Men, and mens fortunes could I frankely vse
As I can bid thee speake

   Ste. Assurance blesse your thoughts

   Tim. And in some sort these wants of mine are crown'd,
That I account them blessings. For by these
Shall I trie Friends. You shall perceiue
How you mistake my Fortunes:
I am wealthie in my Friends.
Within there, Flauius, Seruilius?
Enter three Seruants.

  Ser. My Lord, my Lord

   Tim. I will dispatch you seuerally.
You to Lord Lucius, to Lord Lucullus you, I hunted
with his Honor to day; you to Sempronius; commend me
to their loues; and I am proud say, that my occasions
haue found time to vse 'em toward a supply of mony: let
the request be fifty Talents

   Flam. As you haue said, my Lord

   Stew. Lord Lucius and Lucullus? Humh

   Tim. Go you sir to the Senators;
Of whom, euen to the States best health; I haue
Deseru'd this Hearing: bid 'em send o'th' instant
A thousand Talents to me

   Ste. I haue beene bold
(For that I knew it the most generall way)
To them, to vse your Signet, and your Name,
But they do shake their heads, and I am heere
No richer in returne

   Tim. Is't true? Can't be?
  Stew. They answer in a ioynt and corporate voice,
That now they are at fall, want Treasure cannot
Do what they would, are sorrie: you are Honourable,
But yet they could haue wisht, they know not,
Something hath beene amisse; a Noble Nature
May catch a wrench; would all were well; tis pitty,
And so intending other serious matters,
After distastefull lookes; and these hard Fractions
With certaine halfe-caps, and cold mouing nods,
They froze me into Silence

   Tim. You Gods reward them:
Prythee man looke cheerely. These old Fellowes
Haue their ingratitude in them Hereditary:
Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it sildome flowes,
'Tis lacke of kindely warmth, they are not kinde;
And Nature, as it growes againe toward earth,
Is fashion'd for the iourney, dull and heauy.
Go to Ventiddius (prythee be not sad,
Thou art true, and honest; Ingeniously I speake,
No blame belongs to thee:) Ventiddius lately
Buried his Father, by whose death hee's stepp'd
Into a great estate: When he was poore,
Imprison'd, and in scarsitie of Friends,
I cleer'd him with fiue Talents: Greet him from me,
Bid him suppose, some good necessity
Touches his Friend, which craues to be remembred
With those fiue Talents; that had, giue't these Fellowes
To whom 'tis instant due. Neu'r speake, or thinke,
That Timons fortunes 'mong his Friends can sinke

   Stew. I would I could not thinke it:
That thought is Bounties Foe;
Being free it selfe, it thinkes all others so.

Exeunt.

Flaminius waiting to speake with a Lord from his Master, enters a
seruant
to him.

  Ser. I haue told my Lord of you, he is comming down
to you

   Flam. I thanke you Sir.
Enter Lucullus.

  Ser. Heere's my Lord

   Luc. One of Lord Timons men? A Guift I warrant.
Why this hits right: I dreampt of a Siluer Bason & Ewre
to night. Flaminius, honest Flaminius, you are verie respectiuely
welcome sir. Fill me some Wine. And how
does that Honourable, Compleate, Free-hearted Gentleman
of Athens, thy very bountifull good Lord and Mayster?
  Flam. His health is well sir

   Luc. I am right glad that his health is well sir: and
what hast thou there vnder thy Cloake, pretty Flaminius?
  Flam. Faith, nothing but an empty box Sir, which in
my Lords behalfe, I come to intreat your Honor to supply:
who hauing great and instant occasion to vse fiftie
Talents, hath sent to your Lordship to furnish him: nothing
doubting your present assistance therein

   Luc. La, la, la, la: Nothing doubting sayes hee? Alas
good Lord, a Noble Gentleman 'tis, if he would not keep
so good a house. Many a time and often I ha din'd with
him, and told him on't, and come againe to supper to him
of purpose, to haue him spend lesse, and yet he wold embrace
no counsell, take no warning by my comming, euery
man has his fault, and honesty is his. I ha told him on't,
but I could nere get him from't.
Enter Seruant with Wine.

  Ser. Please your Lordship, heere is the Wine

   Luc. Flaminius, I haue noted thee alwayes wise.
Heere's to thee

   Flam. Your Lordship speakes your pleasure

   Luc. I haue obserued thee alwayes for a towardlie
prompt spirit, giue thee thy due, and one that knowes
what belongs to reason; and canst vse the time wel, if the
time vse thee well. Good parts in thee; get you gone sirrah.
Draw neerer honest Flaminius. Thy Lords a bountifull
Gentleman, but thou art wise, and thou know'st
well enough (although thou com'st to me) that this is no
time to lend money, especially vpon bare friendshippe
without securitie. Here's three Solidares for thee, good
Boy winke at me, and say thou saw'st mee not. Fare thee
well

   Flam. Is't possible the world should so much differ,
And we aliue that liued? Fly damned basenesse
To him that worships thee

   Luc. Ha? Now I see thou art a Foole, and fit for thy
Master.

Exit L[ucullus].

  Flam. May these adde to the number y may scald thee:
Let moulten Coine be thy damnation,
Thou disease of a friend, and not himselfe:
Has friendship such a faint and milkie heart,
It turnes in lesse then two nights? O you Gods!
I feele my Masters passion. This Slaue vnto his Honor,
Has my Lords meate in him:
Why should it thriue, and turne to Nutriment,
When he is turn'd to poyson?
O may Diseases onely worke vpon't:
And when he's sicke to death, let not that part of Nature
Which my Lord payd for, be of any power
To expell sicknesse, but prolong his hower.
Enter.

Enter Lucius, with three strangers.

  Luc. Who the Lord Timon? He is my very good friend
and an Honourable Gentleman

   1 We know him for no lesse, thogh we are but strangers
to him. But I can tell you one thing my Lord, and
which I heare from common rumours, now Lord Timons
happie howres are done and past, and his estate shrinkes
from him

   Lucius. Fye no, doe not beleeue it: hee cannot want
for money

   2 But beleeue you this my Lord, that not long agoe,
one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus, to borrow so
many Talents, nay vrg'd extreamly for't, and shewed
what necessity belong'd too't, and yet was deny'de

   Luci. How?
  2 I tell you, deny'de my Lord

   Luci. What a strange case was that? Now before the
Gods I am asham'd on't. Denied that honourable man?
There was verie little Honour shew'd in't. For my owne
part, I must needes confesse, I haue receyued some small
kindnesses from him, as Money, Plate, Iewels, and such
like Trifles; nothing comparing to his: yet had hee mistooke
him, and sent to me, I should ne're haue denied his
Occasion so many Talents.
Enter Seruilius.

  Seruil. See, by good hap yonders my Lord, I haue
swet to see his Honor. My Honor'd Lord

   Lucil. Seruilius? You are kindely met sir. Farthewell,
commend me to thy Honourable vertuous Lord, my very
exquisite Friend

   Seruil. May it please your Honour, my Lord hath
sent-
  Luci. Ha? what ha's he sent? I am so much endeered
to that Lord; hee's euer sending: how shall I thank him
think'st thou? And what has he sent now?
  Seruil. Has onely sent his present Occasion now my
Lord: requesting your Lordship to supply his instant vse
with so many Talents

   Lucil. I know his Lordship is but merry with me,
He cannot want fifty fiue hundred Talents

   Seruil. But in the mean time he wants lesse my Lord.
If his occasion were not vertuous,
I should not vrge it halfe so faithfully

   Luc. Dost thou speake seriously Seruilius?
  Seruil. Vpon my soule 'tis true Sir

   Luci. What a wicked Beast was I to disfurnish my
self against such a good time, when I might ha shewn my
selfe Honourable? How vnluckily it hapned, that I shold
Purchase the day before for a little part, and vndo a great
deale of Honour? Seruilius, now before the Gods I am
not able to do (the more beast I say) I was sending to vse
Lord Timon my selfe, these Gentlemen can witnesse; but
I would not for the wealth of Athens I had done't now.
Commend me bountifully to his good Lordship, and I
hope his Honor will conceiue the fairest of mee, because
I haue no power to be kinde. And tell him this from me,
I count it one of my greatest afflictions say, that I cannot
pleasure such an Honourable Gentleman. Good Seruilius,
will you befriend mee so farre, as to vse mine owne
words to him?
  Ser. Yes sir, I shall.

Exit Seruil[ius].

  Lucil. Ile looke you out a good turne Seruilius.
True as you said, Timon is shrunke indeede,
And he that's once deny'de, will hardly speede.
Enter.

  1 Do you obserue this Hostilius?
  2 I, to well

   1 Why this is the worlds soule,
And iust of the same peece
Is euery Flatterers sport: who can call him his Friend
That dips in the same dish? For in my knowing
Timon has bin this Lords Father,
And kept his credit with his purse:
Supported his estate, nay Timons money
Has paid his men their wages. He ne're drinkes,
But Timons Siluer treads vpon his Lip,
And yet, oh see the monstrousnesse of man,
When he lookes out in an vngratefull shape;
He does deny him (in respect of his)
What charitable men affoord to Beggers

   3 Religion grones at it

   1 For mine owne part, I neuer tasted Timon in my life
Nor came any of his bounties ouer me,
To marke me for his Friend. Yet I protest,
For his right Noble minde, illustrious Vertue,
And Honourable Carriage,
Had his necessity made vse of me,
I would haue put my wealth into Donation,
And the best halfe should haue return'd to him,
So much I loue his heart: But I perceiue,
Men must learne now with pitty to dispence,
For Policy sits aboue Conscience.

Exeunt.

Enter a third seruant with Sempronius, another of Timons Friends.

  Semp. Must he needs trouble me in't? Hum.
'Boue all others?
He might haue tried Lord Lucius, or Lucullus,
And now Ventidgius is wealthy too,
Whom he redeem'd from prison. All these
Owes their estates vnto him

   Ser. My Lord,
They haue all bin touch'd, and found Base-Mettle,
For they haue all denied him

   Semp. How? Haue they deny'de him?
Has Ventidgius and Lucullus deny'de him,
And does he send to me? Three? Humh?
It shewes but little loue, or iudgement in him.
Must I be his last Refuge? His Friends (like Physitians)
Thriue, giue him ouer: Must I take th' Cure vpon me?
Has much disgrac'd me in't, I'me angry at him,
That might haue knowne my place. I see no sense for't,
But his Occasions might haue wooed me first:
For in my conscience, I was the first man
That ere receiued guift from him.
And does he thinke so backwardly of me now,
That Ile requite it last? No:
So it may proue an Argument of Laughter
To th' rest, and 'mong'st Lords be thought a Foole:
I'de rather then the worth of thrice the summe,
Had sent to me first, but for my mindes sake:
I'de such a courage to do him good. But now returne,
And with their faint reply, this answer ioyne;
Who bates mine Honor, shall not know my Coyne.

Exit

  Ser. Excellent: Your Lordships a goodly Villain: the
diuell knew not what he did, when hee made man Politicke;
he crossed himselfe by't: and I cannot thinke, but
in the end, the Villanies of man will set him cleere. How
fairely this Lord striues to appeare foule? Takes Vertuous
Copies to be wicked: like those, that vnder hotte ardent
zeale, would set whole Realmes on fire, of such a nature
is his politike loue.
This was my Lords best hope, now all are fled
Saue onely the Gods. Now his Friends are dead,
Doores that were ne're acquainted with their Wards
Many a bounteous yeere, must be imploy'd
Now to guard sure their Master:
And this is all a liberall course allowes,
Who cannot keepe his wealth, must keep his house.
Enter.

Enter Varro's man, meeting others. All Timons Creditors to wait
for his
comming out. Then enter Lucius and Hortensius.

  Var.man. Well met, goodmorrow Titus & Hortensius
  Tit. The like to you kinde Varro

   Hort. Lucius, what do we meet together?
  Luci. I, and I think one businesse do's command vs all.
For mine is money

   Tit. So is theirs, and ours.
Enter Philotus.

  Luci. And sir Philotus too

   Phil. Good day at once

   Luci. Welcome good Brother.
What do you thinke the houre?
  Phil. Labouring for Nine

   Luci. So much?
  Phil. Is not my Lord seene yet?
  Luci. Not yet

   Phil. I wonder on't, he was wont to shine at seauen

   Luci. I, but the dayes are waxt shorter with him:
You must consider, that a Prodigall course
Is like the Sunnes, but not like his recouerable, I feare:
'Tis deepest Winter in Lord Timons purse, that is: One
may reach deepe enough, and yet finde little

   Phil. I am of your feare, for that

   Tit. Ile shew you how t' obserue a strange euent:
Your Lord sends now for Money?
  Hort. Most true, he doe's

   Tit. And he weares Iewels now of Timons guift,
For which I waite for money

   Hort. It is against my heart

   Luci. Marke how strange it showes,
Timon in this, should pay more then he owes:
And e'ne as if your Lord should weare rich Iewels,
And send for money for 'em

   Hort. I'me weary of this Charge,
The Gods can witnesse:
I know my Lord hath spent of Timons wealth,
And now Ingratitude, makes it worse then stealth

   Varro. Yes, mine's three thousand Crownes:
What's yours?
  Luci. Fiue thousand mine

   Varro. 'Tis much deepe, and it should seem by th' sum
Your Masters confidence was aboue mine,
Else surely his had equall'd.
Enter Flaminius.

  Tit. One of Lord Timons men

   Luc. Flaminius? Sir, a word: Pray is my Lord readie
to come forth?
  Flam. No, indeed he is not

   Tit. We attend his Lordship: pray signifie so much

   Flam. I need not tell him that, he knowes you are too diligent.
Enter Steward in a Cloake, muffled.

  Luci. Ha: is not that his Steward muffled so?
He goes away in a Clowd: Call him, call him

   Tit. Do you heare, sir?
  2.Varro. By your leaue, sir

   Stew. What do ye aske of me, my Friend

   Tit. We waite for certaine Money heere, sir

   Stew. I, if Money were as certaine as your waiting,
'Twere sure enough.
Why then preferr'd you not your summes and Billes
When your false Masters eate of my Lords meat?
Then they could smile, and fawne vpon his debts.
And take downe th' Intrest into their glutt'nous Mawes.
You do your selues but wrong, to stirre me vp,
Let me passe quietly:
Beleeue't, my Lord and I haue made an end,
I haue no more to reckon, he to spend

   Luci. I, but this answer will not serue

   Stew. If't 'twill not serue, 'tis not so base as you,
For you serue Knaues

   1.Varro. How? What does his casheer'd Worship
mutter?
  2.Varro. No matter what, hee's poore, and that's reuenge
enough. Who can speake broader, then hee that
has no house to put his head in? Such may rayle against
great buildings.
Enter Seruilius.

  Tit. Oh heere's Seruilius: now wee shall know some
answere

   Seru. If I might beseech you Gentlemen, to repayre
some other houre, I should deriue much from't. For tak't
of my soule, my Lord leanes wondrously to discontent:
His comfortable temper has forsooke him, he's much out
of health, and keepes his Chamber

   Luci. Many do keepe their Chambers, are not sicke:
And if it be so farre beyond his health,
Me thinkes he should the sooner pay his debts,
And make a cleere way to the Gods

   Seruil. Good Gods

   Titus. We cannot take this for answer, sir

   Flaminius within. Seruilius helpe, my Lord, my Lord.
Enter Timon in a rage.

  Tim. What, are my dores oppos'd against my passage?
Haue I bin euer free, and must my house
Be my retentiue Enemy? My Gaole?
The place which I haue Feasted, does it now
(Like all Mankinde) shew me an Iron heart?
  Luci. Put in now Titus

   Tit. My Lord, heere is my Bill

   Luci. Here's mine

   1.Var. And mine, my Lord

   2.Var. And ours, my Lord

   Philo. All our Billes

   Tim. Knocke me downe with 'em, cleaue mee to the
Girdle

   Luc. Alas, my Lord

   Tim. Cut my heart in summes

   Tit. Mine, fifty Talents

   Tim. Tell out my blood

   Luc. Fiue thousand Crownes, my Lord

   Tim. Fiue thousand drops payes that.
What yours? and yours?
  1.Var. My Lord

   2.Var. My Lord

   Tim. Teare me, take me, and the Gods fall vpon you.

Exit Timon.

  Hort. Faith I perceiue our Masters may throwe their
caps at their money, these debts may well be call'd desperate
ones, for a madman owes 'em.

Exeunt.

Enter Timon.

  Timon. They haue e'ene put my breath from mee the
slaues. Creditors? Diuels

   Stew. My deere Lord

   Tim. What if it should be so?
  Stew. My Lord

   Tim. Ile haue it so. My Steward?
  Stew. Heere my Lord

   Tim. So fitly? Go, bid all my Friends againe,
Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius Vllorxa: All,
Ile once more feast the Rascals

   Stew. O my Lord, you onely speake from your distracted
soule; there's not so much left to furnish out a moderate
Table

   Tim. Be it not in thy care:
Go I charge thee, inuite them all, let in the tide
Of Knaues once more: my Cooke and Ile prouide.

Exeunt.

Enter three Senators at one doore, Alcibiades meeting them, with
Attendants

   1.Sen. My Lord, you haue my voyce, too't,
The faults Bloody:
'Tis necessary he should dye:
Nothing imboldens sinne so much, as Mercy

   2 Most true; the Law shall bruise 'em

   Alc. Honor, health, and compassion to the Senate

   1 Now Captaine

   Alc. I am an humble Sutor to your Vertues;
For pitty is the vertue of the Law,
And none but Tyrants vse it cruelly.
It pleases time and Fortune to lye heauie
Vpon a Friend of mine, who in hot blood
Hath stept into the Law: which is past depth
To those that (without heede) do plundge intoo't.
He is a Man (setting his Fate aside) of comely Vertues,
Nor did he soyle the fact with Cowardice.
(And Honour in him, which buyes out his fault)
But with a Noble Fury, and faire spirit,
Seeing his Reputation touch'd to death,
He did oppose his Foe:
And with such sober and vnnoted passion
He did behooue his anger ere 'twas spent,
As if he had but prou'd an Argument

   1.Sen. You vndergo too strict a Paradox,
Striuing to make an vgly deed looke faire:
Your words haue tooke such paines, as if they labour'd
To bring Man-slaughter into forme, and set Quarrelling
Vpon the head of Valour; which indeede
Is Valour mis-begot, and came into the world,
When Sects, and Factions were newly borne.
Hee's truly Valiant, that can wisely suffer
The worst that man can breath,
And make his Wrongs, his Out-sides,
To weare them like his Rayment, carelessely,
And ne're preferre his iniuries to his heart,
To bring it into danger.
If Wrongs be euilles, and inforce vs kill,
What Folly 'tis, to hazard life for Ill

   Alci. My Lord

   1.Sen. You cannot make grosse sinnes looke cleare,
To reuenge is no Valour, but to beare

   Alci. My Lords, then vnder fauour, pardon me,
If I speake like a Captaine.
Why do fond men expose themselues to Battell,
And not endure all threats? Sleepe vpon't,
And let the Foes quietly cut their Throats
Without repugnancy? If there be
Such Valour in the bearing, what make wee
Abroad? Why then, Women are more valiant
That stay at home, if Bearing carry it:
And the Asse, more Captaine then the Lyon?
The fellow loaden with Irons, wiser then the Iudge?
If Wisedome be in suffering. Oh my Lords,
As you are great, be pittifully Good,
Who cannot condemne rashnesse in cold blood?
To kill, I grant, is sinnes extreamest Gust,
But in defence, by Mercy, 'tis most iust.
To be in Anger, is impietie:
But who is Man, that is not Angrie.
Weigh but the Crime with this

   2.Sen. You breath in vaine

   Alci. In vaine?
His seruice done at Lacedemon, and Bizantium,
Were a sufficient briber for his life

   1 What's that?
  Alc. Why say my Lords ha's done faire seruice,
And slaine in fight many of your enemies:
How full of valour did he beare himselfe
In the last Conflict, and made plenteous wounds?
  2 He has made too much plenty with him:
He's a sworne Riotor, he has a sinne
That often drownes him, and takes his valour prisoner.
If there were no Foes, that were enough
To ouercome him. In that Beastly furie,
He has bin knowne to commit outrages,
And cherrish Factions. 'Tis inferr'd to vs,
His dayes are foule, and his drinke dangerous

   1 He dyes

   Alci. Hard fate: he might haue dyed in warre.
My Lords, if not for any parts in him,
Though his right arme might purchase his owne time,
And be in debt to none: yet more to moue you,
Take my deserts to his, and ioyne 'em both.
And for I know, your reuerend Ages loue Security,
Ile pawne my Victories, all my Honour to you
Vpon his good returnes.
If by this Crime, he owes the Law his life,
Why let the Warre receiue't in valiant gore,
For Law is strict, and Warre is nothing more

   1 We are for Law, he dyes, vrge it no more
On height of our displeasure: Friend, or Brother,
He forfeits his owne blood, that spilles another

   Alc. Must it be so? It must not bee:
My Lords, I do beseech you know mee

   2 How?
  Alc. Call me to your remembrances

   3 What

   Alc. I cannot thinke but your Age has forgot me,
It could not else be, I should proue so bace,
To sue and be deny'de such common Grace.
My wounds ake at you

   1 Do you dare our anger?
'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect:
We banish thee for euer

   Alc. Banish me?
Banish your dotage, banish vsurie,
That makes the Senate vgly

   1 If after two dayes shine, Athens containe thee,
Attend our waightier Iudgement.
And not to swell our Spirit,
He shall be executed presently.

Exeunt.

  Alc. Now the Gods keepe you old enough,
That you may liue
Onely in bone, that none may looke on you.
I'm worse then mad: I haue kept backe their Foes
While they haue told their Money, and let out
Their Coine vpon large interest. I my selfe,
Rich onely in large hurts. All those, for this?
Is this the Balsome, that the vsuring Senat
Powres into Captaines wounds? Banishment.
It comes not ill: I hate not to be banisht,
It is a cause worthy my Spleene and Furie,
That I may strike at Athens. Ile cheere vp
My discontented Troopes, and lay for hearts;
'Tis Honour with most Lands to be at ods,
Souldiers should brooke as little wrongs as Gods.
Enter.

Enter diuers Friends at seuerall doores.

  1 The good time of day to you, sir

   2 I also wish it to you: I thinke this Honorable Lord
did but try vs this other day

   1 Vpon that were my thoughts tyring when wee encountred.
I hope it is not so low with him as he made it
seeme in the triall of his seuerall Friends

   2 It should not be, by the perswasion of his new Feasting

   1 I should thinke so. He hath sent mee an earnest inuiting,
which many my neere occasions did vrge mee to
put off: but he hath coniur'd mee beyond them, and I
must needs appeare

   2 In like manner was I in debt to my importunat businesse,
but he would not heare my excuse. I am sorrie,
when he sent to borrow of mee, that my Prouision was
out

   1 I am sicke of that greefe too, as I vnderstand how all
things go

   2 Euery man heares so: what would hee haue borrowed
of you?
  1 A thousand Peeces

   2 A thousand Peeces?
  1 What of you?
  2 He sent to me sir- Heere he comes.
Enter Timon and Attendants.

  Tim. With all my heart Gentlemen both; and how
fare you?
  1 Euer at the best, hearing well of your Lordship

   2 The Swallow followes not Summer more willing,
then we your Lordship

   Tim. Nor more willingly leaues Winter, such Summer
Birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not recompence
this long stay: Feast your eares with the Musicke
awhile: If they will fare so harshly o'th' Trumpets
sound: we shall too't presently

   1 I hope it remaines not vnkindely with your Lordship,
that I return'd you an empty Messenger

   Tim. O sir, let it not trouble you

   2 My Noble Lord

   Tim. Ah my good Friend, what cheere?

The Banket brought in.

  2 My most Honorable Lord, I am e'ne sick of shame,
that when your Lordship this other day sent to me, I was
so vnfortunate a Beggar

   Tim. Thinke not on't, sir

   2 If you had sent but two houres before

   Tim. Let it not cumber your better remembrance.
Come bring in all together

   2 All couer'd Dishes

   1 Royall Cheare, I warrant you

   3 Doubt not that, if money and the season can yeild it
  1 How do you? What's the newes?
  3 Alcibiades is banish'd: heare you of it?
  Both. Alcibiades banish'd?
  3 'Tis so, be sure of it

   1 How? How?
  2 I pray you vpon what?
  Tim. My worthy Friends, will you draw neere?
  3 Ile tell you more anon. Here's a Noble feast toward
  2 This is the old man still

   3 Wilt hold? Wilt hold?
  2 It do's: but time will, and so

   3 I do conceyue

   Tim. Each man to his stoole, with that spurre as hee
would to the lip of his Mistris: your dyet shall bee in all
places alike. Make not a Citie Feast of it, to let the meat
coole, ere we can agree vpon the first place. Sit, sit.
The Gods require our Thankes.
You great Benefactors, sprinkle our Society with Thankefulnesse.
For your owne guifts, make your selues prais'd: But
reserue still to giue, least your Deities be despised. Lend to each
man enough, that one neede not lend to another. For were your
Godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the Gods. Make
the Meate be beloued, more then the Man that giues it. Let
no Assembly of Twenty, be without a score of Villaines. If there
sit twelue Women at the Table, let a dozen of them bee as they
are. The rest of your Fees, O Gods, the Senators of Athens,
together with the common legge of People, what is amisse in
them, you Gods, make suteable for destruction. For these my
present Friends, as they are to mee nothing, so in nothing blesse
them, and to nothing are they welcome.
Vncouer Dogges, and lap

   Some speake. What do's his Lordship meane?
  Some other. I know not

   Timon. May you a better Feast neuer behold
You knot of Mouth-Friends: Smoke, & lukewarm water
Is your perfection. This is Timons last,
Who stucke and spangled you with Flatteries,
Washes it off and sprinkles in your faces
Your reeking villany. Liue loath'd, and long
Most smiling, smooth, detested Parasites,
Curteous Destroyers, affable Wolues, meeke Beares:
You Fooles of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Times Flyes,
Cap and knee-Slaues, vapours, and Minute Iackes.
Of Man and Beast, the infinite Maladie
Crust you quite o're. What do'st thou go?
Soft, take thy Physicke first; thou too, and thou:
Stay I will lend thee money, borrow none.
What? All in Motion? Henceforth be no Feast,
Whereat a Villaine's not a welcome Guest.
Burne house, sinke Athens, henceforth hated be
Of Timon Man, and all Humanity.

Exit

Enter the Senators, with other Lords.

  1 How now, my Lords?
  2 Know you the quality of Lord Timons fury?
  3 Push, did you see my Cap?
  4 I haue lost my Gowne

   1 He's but a mad Lord, & nought but humors swaies
him. He gaue me a Iewell th' other day, and now hee has
beate it out of my hat.
Did you see my Iewell?
  2 Did you see my Cap

   3 Heere 'tis

   4 Heere lyes my Gowne

   1 Let's make no stay

   2 Lord Timons mad

   3 I feel't vpon my bones

   4 One day he giues vs Diamonds, next day stones.

Exeunt. the Senators.

Enter Timon.

  Tim. Let me looke backe vpon thee. O thou Wall
That girdles in those Wolues, diue in the earth,
And fence not Athens. Matrons, turne incontinent,
Obedience fayle in Children: Slaues and Fooles
Plucke the graue wrinkled Senate from the Bench,
And minister in their steeds, to generall Filthes.
Conuert o'th' Instant greene Virginity,
Doo't in your Parents eyes. Bankrupts, hold fast
Rather then render backe; out with your Kniues,
And cut your Trusters throates. Bound Seruants, steale,
Large-handed Robbers your graue Masters are,
And pill by Law. Maide, to thy Masters bed,
Thy Mistris is o'th' Brothell. Some of sixteen,
Plucke the lyn'd Crutch from thy old limping Sire,
With it, beate out his Braines. Piety, and Feare,
Religion to the Gods, Peace, Iustice, Truth,
Domesticke awe, Night-rest, and Neighbourhood,
Instruction, Manners, Mysteries, and Trades,
Degrees, Obseruances, Customes, and Lawes,
Decline to your confounding contraries.
And yet Confusion liue: Plagues incident to men,
Your potent and infectious Feauors, heape
On Athens ripe for stroke. Thou cold Sciatica,
Cripple our Senators, that their limbes may halt
As lamely as their Manners. Lust, and Libertie
Creepe in the Mindes and Marrowes of our youth,
That 'gainst the streame of Vertue they may striue,
And drowne themselues in Riot. Itches, Blaines,
So we all th' Athenian bosomes, and their crop
Be generall Leprosie: Breath, infect breath,
That their Society (as their Friendship) may
Be meerely poyson. Nothing Ile beare from thee
But nakednesse, thou detestable Towne,
Take thou that too, with multiplying Bannes:
Timon will to the Woods, where he shall finde
Th' vnkindest Beast, more kinder then Mankinde.
The Gods confound (heare me you good Gods all)
Th' Athenians both within and out that Wall:
And graunt as Timon growes, his hate may grow
To the whole race of Mankinde, high and low.
Amen.
Enter.

Enter Steward with two or three Seruants.

  1 Heare you M[aster]. Steward, where's our Master?
Are we vndone, cast off, nothing remaining?
  Stew. Alack my Fellowes, what should I say to you?
Let me be recorded by the righteous Gods,
I am as poore as you

   1 Such a House broke?
So Noble a Master falne, all gone, and not
One Friend to take his Fortune by the arme,
And go along with him

   2 As we do turne our backes
From our Companion, throwne into his graue,
So his Familiars to his buried Fortunes
Slinke all away, leaue their false vowes with him
Like empty purses pickt; and his poore selfe
A dedicated Beggar to the Ayre,
With his disease, of all shunn'd pouerty,
Walkes like contempt alone. More of our Fellowes.
Enter other Seruants.

  Stew. All broken Implements of a ruin'd house

   3 Yet do our hearts weare Timons Liuery,
That see I by our Faces: we are Fellowes still,
Seruing alike in sorrow: Leak'd is our Barke,
And we poore Mates, stand on the dying Decke,
Hearing the Surges threat: we must all part
Into this Sea of Ayre

   Stew. Good Fellowes all,
The latest of my wealth Ile share among'st you.
Where euer we shall meete, for Timons sake,
Let's yet be Fellowes. Let's shake our heads, and say
As 'twere a Knell vnto our Masters Fortunes,
We haue seene better dayes. Let each take some:
Nay put out all your hands: Not one word more,
Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poore.

Embrace and part seuerall wayes.

Oh the fierce wretchednesse that Glory brings vs!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,
Since Riches point to Misery and Contempt?
Who would be so mock'd with Glory, or to liue
But in a Dreame of Friendship,
To haue his pompe, and all what state compounds,
But onely painted like his varnisht Friends:
Poore honest Lord, brought lowe by his owne heart,
Vndone by Goodnesse: Strange vnvsuall blood,
When mans worst sinne is, He do's too much Good.
Who then dares to be halfe so kinde agen?
For Bounty that makes Gods, do still marre Men.
My deerest Lord, blest to be most accurst,
Rich onely to be wretched; thy great Fortunes
Are made thy cheefe Afflictions. Alas (kinde Lord)
Hee's flung in Rage from this ingratefull Seate
Of monstrous Friends:
Nor ha's he with him to supply his life,
Or that which can command it:
Ile follow and enquire him out.
Ile euer serue his minde, with my best will,
Whilst I haue Gold, Ile be his Steward still.
Enter.

Enter Timon in the woods.

  Tim. O blessed breeding Sun, draw from the earth
Rotten humidity: below thy Sisters Orbe
Infect the ayre. Twin'd Brothers of one wombe,
Whose procreation, residence, and birth,
Scarse is diuidant; touch them with seuerall fortunes,
The greater scornes the lesser. Not Nature
(To whom all sores lay siege) can beare great Fortune
But by contempt of Nature.
Raise me this Begger, and deny't that Lord,
The Senators shall beare contempt Hereditary,
The Begger Natiue Honor.
It is the Pastour Lards, the Brothers sides,
The want that makes him leaue: who dares? who dares
In puritie of Manhood stand vpright
And say, this mans a Flatterer. If one be,
So are they all: for euerie grize of Fortune
Is smooth'd by that below. The Learned pate
Duckes to the Golden Foole. All's obliquie:
There's nothing leuell in our cursed Natures
But direct villanie. Therefore be abhorr'd,
All Feasts, Societies, and Throngs of men.
His semblable, yea himselfe Timon disdaines,
Destruction phang mankinde; Earth yeeld me Rootes,
Who seekes for better of thee, sawce his pallate
With thy most operant Poyson. What is heere?
Gold? Yellow, glittering, precious Gold?
No Gods, I am no idle Votarist,
Roots you cleere Heauens. Thus much of this will make
Blacke, white; fowle, faire; wrong, right;
Base, Noble; Old, young; Coward, valiant.
Ha you Gods! why this? what this, you Gods? why this
Will lugge your Priests and Seruants from your sides:
Plucke stout mens pillowes from below their heads.
This yellow Slaue,
Will knit and breake Religions, blesse th' accurst,
Make the hoare Leprosie ador'd, place Theeues,
And giue them Title, knee, and approbation
With Senators on the Bench: This is it
That makes the wappen'd Widdow wed againe;
Shee, whom the Spittle-house, and vlcerous sores,
Would cast the gorge at. This Embalmes and Spices
To'th' Aprill day againe. Come damn'd Earth,
Thou common whore of Mankinde, that puttes oddes
Among the rout of Nations, I will make thee
Do thy right Nature.

March afarre off.

Ha? A Drumme? Th'art quicke,
But yet Ile bury thee: Thou't go (strong Theefe)
When Gowty keepers of thee cannot stand:
Nay stay thou out for earnest.
Enter Alcibiades with Drumme and Fife in warlike manner, and
Phrynia and
Timandra.

  Alc. What art thou there? speake

   Tim. A Beast as thou art. The Canker gnaw thy hart
For shewing me againe the eyes of Man

   Alc. What is thy name? Is man so hatefull to thee,
That art thy selfe a Man?
  Tim. I am Misantropos, and hate Mankinde.
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dogge,
That I might loue thee something

   Alc. I know thee well:
But in thy Fortunes am vnlearn'd, and strange

   Tim. I know thee too, and more then that I know thee
I not desire to know. Follow thy Drumme,
With mans blood paint the ground Gules, Gules:
Religious Cannons, ciuill Lawes are cruell,
Then what should warre be? This fell whore of thine,
Hath in her more destruction then thy Sword,
For all her Cherubin looke

   Phrin. Thy lips rot off

   Tim. I will not kisse thee, then the rot returnes
To thine owne lippes againe

   Alc. How came the Noble Timon to this change?
  Tim. As the Moone do's, by wanting light to giue:
But then renew I could not like the Moone,
There were no Sunnes to borrow of

   Alc. Noble Timon, what friendship may I do thee?
  Tim. None, but to maintaine my opinion

   Alc. What is it Timon?
  Tim. Promise me Friendship, but performe none.
If thou wilt not promise, the Gods plague thee, for thou
art a man: if thou do'st performe, confound thee, for
thou art a man

   Alc. I haue heard in some sort of thy Miseries

   Tim. Thou saw'st them when I had prosperitie

   Alc. I see them now, then was a blessed time

   Tim. As thine is now, held with a brace of Harlots

   Timan. Is this th' Athenian Minion, whom the world
Voic'd so regardfully?
  Tim. Art thou Timandra?
  Timan. Yes

   Tim. Be a whore still, they loue thee not that vse thee,
giue them diseases, leauing with thee their Lust. Make
vse of thy salt houres, season the slaues for Tubbes and
Bathes, bring downe Rose-cheekt youth to the Fubfast,
and the Diet

   Timan. Hang thee Monster

   Alc. Pardon him sweet Timandra, for his wits
Are drown'd and lost in his Calamities.
I haue but little Gold of late, braue Timon,
The want whereof, doth dayly make reuolt
In my penurious Band. I haue heard and greeu'd
How cursed Athens, mindelesse of thy worth,
Forgetting thy great deeds, when Neighbour states
But for thy Sword and Fortune trod vpon them

   Tim. I prythee beate thy Drum, and get thee gone

   Alc. I am thy Friend, and pitty thee deere Timon

   Tim. How doest thou pitty him whom y dost troble,
I had rather be alone

   Alc. Why fare thee well:
Heere is some Gold for thee

   Tim. Keepe it, I cannot eate it

   Alc. When I haue laid proud Athens on a heape

   Tim. Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens

   Alc. I Timon, and haue cause

   Tim. The Gods confound them all in thy Conquest,
And thee after, when thou hast Conquer'd

   Alc. Why me, Timon?
  Tim. That by killing of Villaines
Thou was't borne to conquer my Country.
Put vp thy Gold. Go on, heeres Gold, go on;
Be as a Plannetary plague, when Ioue
Will o're some high-Vic'd City, hang his poyson
In the sicke ayre: let not thy sword skip one:
Pitty not honour'd Age for his white Beard,
He is an Vsurer. Strike me the counterfet Matron,
It is her habite onely, that is honest,
Her selfe's a Bawd. Let not the Virgins cheeke
Make soft thy trenchant Sword: for those Milke pappes
That through the window Barne bore at mens eyes,
Are not within the Leafe of pitty writ,
But set them down horrible Traitors. Spare not the Babe
Whose dimpled smiles from Fooles exhaust their mercy;
Thinke it a Bastard, whom the Oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced, the throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse. Sweare against Obiects,
Put Armour on thine eares, and on thine eyes,
Whose proofe, nor yels of Mothers, Maides, nor Babes,
Nor sight of Priests in holy Vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a iot. There's Gold to pay thy Souldiers,
Make large confusion: and thy fury spent,
Confounded be thy selfe. Speake not, be gone

   Alc. Hast thou Gold yet, Ile take the Gold thou giuest
me, not all thy Counsell

   Tim. Dost thou or dost thou not, Heauens curse vpon
thee

   Both. Giue vs some Gold good Timon, hast y more?
  Tim. Enough to make a Whore forsweare her Trade,
And to make Whores, a Bawd. Hold vp you Sluts
Your Aprons mountant; you are not Othable,
Although I know you'l sweare, terribly sweare
Into strong shudders, and to heauenly Agues
Th' immortall Gods that heare you. Spare your Oathes:
Ile trust to your Conditions, be whores still.
And he whose pious breath seekes to conuert you,
Be strong in Whore, allure him, burne him vp,
Let your close fire predominate his smoke,
And be no turne-coats: yet may your paines six months
Be quite contrary, And Thatch
Your poore thin Roofes with burthens of the dead,
(Some that were hang'd) no matter:
Weare them, betray with them; Whore still,
Paint till a horse may myre vpon your face:
A pox of wrinkles

   Both. Well, more Gold, what then?
Beleeue't that wee'l do any thing for Gold

   Tim. Consumptions sowe
In hollow bones of man, strike their sharpe shinnes,
And marre mens spurring. Cracke the Lawyers voyce,
That he may neuer more false Title pleade,
Nor sound his Quillets shrilly: Hoare the Flamen,
That scold'st against the quality of flesh,
And not beleeues himselfe. Downe with the Nose,
Downe with it flat, take the Bridge quite away
Of him, that his particular to foresee
Smels from the generall weale. Make curl'd pate Ruffians bald
And let the vnscarr'd Braggerts of the Warre
Deriue some paine from you. Plague all,
That your Actiuity may defeate and quell
The sourse of all Erection. There's more Gold.
Do you damne others, and let this damne you,
And ditches graue you all

   Both. More counsell with more Money, bounteous
Timon

   Tim. More whore, more Mischeefe first, I haue giuen
you earnest

   Alc. Strike vp the Drum towardes Athens, farewell
Timon: if I thriue well, Ile visit thee againe

   Tim. If I hope well, Ile neuer see thee more

   Alc. I neuer did thee harme

   Tim. Yes, thou spok'st well of me

   Alc. Call'st thou that harme?
  Tim. Men dayly finde it. Get thee away,
And take thy Beagles with thee

   Alc. We but offend him, strike.

Exeunt.

  Tim. That Nature being sicke of mans vnkindnesse
Should yet be hungry: Common Mother, thou
Whose wombe vnmeasureable, and infinite brest
Teemes and feeds all: whose selfesame Mettle
Whereof thy proud Childe (arrogant man) is puft,
Engenders the blacke Toad, and Adder blew,
The gilded Newt, and eyelesse venom'd Worme,
With all th' abhorred Births below Crispe Heauen,
Whereon Hyperions quickning fire doth shine:
Yeeld him, who all the humane Sonnes do hate,
From foorth thy plenteous bosome, one poore roote:
Enseare thy Fertile and Conceptious wombe,
Let it no more bring out ingratefull man.
Goe great with Tygers, Dragons, Wolues, and Beares,
Teeme with new Monsters, whom thy vpward face
Hath to the Marbled Mansion all aboue
Neuer presented. O, a Root, deare thankes:
Dry vp thy Marrowes, Vines, and Plough-torne Leas,
Whereof ingratefull man with Licourish draughts
And Morsels Vnctious, greases his pure minde,
That from it all Consideration slippes-
Enter Apemantus.

More man? Plague, plague

   Ape. I was directed hither. Men report,
Thou dost affect my Manners, and dost vse them

   Tim. 'Tis then, because thou dost not keepe a dogge
Whom I would imitate. Consumption catch thee

   Ape. This is in thee a Nature but infected,
A poore vnmanly Melancholly sprung
From change of future. Why this Spade? this place?
This Slaue-like Habit, and these lookes of Care?
Thy Flatterers yet weare Silke, drinke Wine, lye soft,
Hugge their diseas'd Perfumes, and haue forgot
That euer Timon was. Shame not these Woods,
By putting on the cunning of a Carper.
Be thou a Flatterer now, and seeke to thriue
By that which ha's vndone thee; hindge thy knee,
And let his very breath whom thou'lt obserue
Blow off thy Cap: praise his most vicious straine,
And call it excellent: thou wast told thus:
Thou gau'st thine eares (like Tapsters, that bad welcom)
To Knaues, and all approachers: 'Tis most iust
That thou turne Rascall, had'st thou wealth againe,
Rascals should haue't. Do not assume my likenesse

   Tim. Were I like thee, I'de throw away my selfe

   Ape. Thou hast cast away thy selfe, being like thy self
A Madman so long, now a Foole: what think'st
That the bleake ayre, thy boysterous Chamberlaine
Will put thy shirt on warme? Will these moyst Trees,
That haue out-liu'd the Eagle, page thy heeles
And skip when thou point'st out? Will the cold brooke
Candied with Ice, Cawdle thy Morning taste
To cure thy o're-nights surfet? Call the Creatures,
Whose naked Natures liue in all the spight
Of wrekefull Heauen, whose bare vnhoused Trunkes,
To the conflicting Elements expos'd
Answer meere Nature: bid them flatter thee.
O thou shalt finde

   Tim. A Foole of thee: depart

   Ape. I loue thee better now, then ere I did

   Tim. I hate thee worse

   Ape. Why?
  Tim. Thou flatter'st misery

   Ape. I flatter not, but say thou art a Caytiffe

   Tim. Why do'st thou seeke me out?
  Ape. To vex thee

   Tim. Alwayes a Villaines Office, or a Fooles.
Dost please thy selfe in't?
  Ape. I

   Tim. What, a Knaue too?
  Ape. If thou did'st put this sowre cold habit on
To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou
Dost it enforcedly: Thou'dst Courtier be againe
Wert thou not Beggar: willing misery
Out-liues: incertaine pompe, is crown'd before:
The one is filling still, neuer compleat:
The other, at high wish: best state Contentlesse,
Hath a distracted and most wretched being,
Worse then the worst, Content.
Thou should'st desire to dye, being miserable

   Tim. Not by his breath, that is more miserable.
Thou art a Slaue, whom Fortunes tender arme
With fauour neuer claspt: but bred a Dogge.
Had'st thou like vs from our first swath proceeded,
The sweet degrees that this breefe world affords,
To such as may the passiue drugges of it
Freely command'st: thou would'st haue plung'd thy self
In generall Riot, melted downe thy youth
In different beds of Lust, and neuer learn'd
The Icie precepts of respect, but followed
The Sugred game before thee. But my selfe,
Who had the world as my Confectionarie,
The mouthes, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men,
At duty more then I could frame employment;
That numberlesse vpon me stucke, as leaues
Do on the Oake, haue with one Winters brush
Fell from their boughes, and left me open, bare,
For euery storme that blowes. I to beare this,
That neuer knew but better, is some burthen:
Thy Nature, did commence in sufferance, Time
Hath made thee hard in't. Why should'st y hate Men?
They neuer flatter'd thee. What hast thou giuen?
If thou wilt curse; thy Father (that poore ragge)
Must be thy subiect; who in spight put stuffe
To some shee-Begger, and compounded thee
Poore Rogue, hereditary. Hence, be gone,
If thou hadst not bene borne the worst of men,
Thou hadst bene a Knaue and Flatterer

   Ape. Art thou proud yet?
  Tim. I, that I am not thee

   Ape. I, that I was no Prodigall

   Tim. I, that I am one now.
Were all the wealth I haue shut vp in thee,
I'ld giue thee leaue to hang it. Get thee gone:
That the whole life of Athens were in this,
Thus would I eate it

   Ape. Heere, I will mend thy Feast

   Tim. First mend thy company, take away thy selfe

   Ape. So I shall mend mine owne, by'th' lacke of thine
  Tim. 'Tis not well mended so, it is but botcht;
If not, I would it were

   Ape. What would'st thou haue to Athens?
  Tim. Thee thither in a whirlewind: if thou wilt,
Tell them there I haue Gold, looke, so I haue

   Ape. Heere is no vse for Gold

   Tim. The best, and truest:
For heere it sleepes, and do's no hyred harme

   Ape. Where lyest a nights Timon?
  Tim. Vnder that's aboue me.
Where feed'st thou a-dayes Apemantus?
  Ape. Where my stomacke findes meate, or rather
where I eate it

   Tim. Would poyson were obedient, & knew my mind
  Ape. Where would'st thou send it?
  Tim. To sawce thy dishes

   Ape. The middle of Humanity thou neuer knewest,
but the extremitie of both ends. When thou wast in thy
Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much
Curiositie: in thy Ragges thou know'st none, but art despis'd
for the contrary. There's a medler for thee, eate it

   Tim. On what I hate, I feed not

   Ape. Do'st hate a Medler?
  Tim. I, though it looke like thee

   Ape. And th'hadst hated Medlers sooner, y should'st
haue loued thy selfe better now. What man didd'st thou
euer know vnthrift, that was beloued after his meanes!
  Tim. Who without those meanes thou talk'st of, didst
thou euer know belou'd?
  Ape. My selfe

   Tim. I vnderstand thee: thou had'st some meanes to
keepe a Dogge

   Apem. What things in the world canst thou neerest
compare to thy Flatterers?
  Tim. Women neerest, but men: men are the things
themselues. What would'st thou do with the world Apemantus,
if it lay in thy power?
  Ape. Giue it the Beasts, to be rid of the men

   Tim. Would'st thou haue thy selfe fall in the confusion
of men, and remaine a Beast with the Beasts

   Ape. I Timon

   Tim. A beastly Ambition, which the Goddes graunt
thee t' attaine to. If thou wert the Lyon, the Fox would
beguile thee. if thou wert the Lambe, the Foxe would
eate thee: if thou wert the Fox, the Lion would suspect
thee, when peraduenture thou wert accus'd by the Asse:
If thou wert the Asse, thy dulnesse would torment thee;
and still thou liu'dst but as a Breakefast to the Wolfe. If
thou wert the Wolfe, thy greedinesse would afflict thee,
& oft thou should'st hazard thy life for thy dinner. Wert
thou the Vnicorne, pride and wrath would confound
thee, and make thine owne selfe the conquest of thy fury.
Wert thou a Beare, thou would'st be kill'd by the Horse:
wert thou a Horse, thou would'st be seaz'd by the Leopard:
wert thou a Leopard, thou wert Germane to the
Lion, and the spottes of thy Kindred, were Iurors on thy
life. All thy safety were remotion, and thy defence absence.
What Beast could'st thou bee, that were not subiect
to a Beast: and what a Beast art thou already, that
seest not thy losse in transformation

   Ape. If thou could'st please me
With speaking to me, thou might'st
Haue hit vpon it heere.
The Commonwealth of Athens, is become
A Forrest of Beasts

   Tim. How ha's the Asse broke the wall, that thou art
out of the Citie

   Ape. Yonder comes a Poet and a Painter:
The plague of Company light vpon thee:
I will feare to catch it, and giue way.
When I know not what else to do,
Ile see thee againe

   Tim. When there is nothing liuing but thee,
Thou shalt be welcome.
I had rather be a Beggers Dogge,
Then Apemantus

   Ape. Thou art the Cap
Of all the Fooles aliue

   Tim. Would thou wert cleane enough
To spit vpon

   Ape. A plague on thee,
Thou art too bad to curse

   Tim. All Villaines
That do stand by thee, are pure

   Ape. There is no Leprosie,
But what thou speak'st

   Tim. If I name thee, Ile beate thee;
But I should infect my hands

   Ape. I would my tongue
Could rot them off

   Tim. Away thou issue of a mangie dogge,
Choller does kill me,
That thou art aliue, I swoond to see thee

   Ape. Would thou would'st burst

   Tim. Away thou tedious Rogue, I am sorry I shall
lose a stone by thee

   Ape. Beast

   Tim. Slaue

   Ape. Toad

   Tim. Rogue, Rogue, Rogue.
I am sicke of this false world, and will loue nought
But euen the meere necessities vpon't:
Then Timon presently prepare thy graue:
Lye where the light Fome of the Sea may beate
Thy graue stone dayly, make thine Epitaph,
That death in me, at others liues may laugh.
O thou sweete King-killer, and deare diuorce
Twixt naturall Sunne and fire: thou bright defiler
Of Himens purest bed, thou valiant Mars,
Thou euer, yong, fresh, loued, and delicate wooer,
Whose blush doth thawe the consecrated Snow
That lyes on Dians lap.
Thou visible God,
That souldrest close Impossibilities,
And mak'st them kisse; that speak'st with euerie Tongue
To euerie purpose: O thou touch of hearts,
Thinke thy slaue-man rebels, and by thy vertue
Set them into confounding oddes, that Beasts
May haue the world in Empire

   Ape. Would 'twere so,
But not till I am dead. Ile say th'hast Gold:
Thou wilt be throng'd too shortly

   Tim. Throng'd too?
  Ape. I

   Tim. Thy backe I prythee

   Ape. Liue, and loue thy misery

   Tim. Long liue so, and so dye. I am quit

   Ape. Mo things like men,
Eate Timon, and abhorre then.

Exit Apeman[tus].

Enter the Bandetti.

  1 Where should he haue this Gold? It is some poore
Fragment, some slender Ort of his remainder: the meere
want of Gold, and the falling from of his Friendes, droue
him into this Melancholly

   2 It is nois'd
He hath a masse of Treasure

   3 Let vs make the assay vpon him, if he care not for't,
he will supply vs easily: if he couetously reserue it, how
shall's get it?
  2 True: for he beares it not about him:
'Tis hid

   1 Is not this hee?
  All. Where?
  2 'Tis his description

   3 He? I know him

   All. Saue thee Timon

   Tim. Now Theeues

   All. Soldiers, not Theeues

   Tim. Both too, and womens Sonnes

   All. We are not Theeues, but men
That much do want

   Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of meat:
Why should you want? Behold, the Earth hath Rootes:
Within this Mile breake forth a hundred Springs:
The Oakes beare Mast, the Briars Scarlet Heps,
The bounteous Huswife Nature, on each bush,
Layes her full Messe before you. Want? why Want?
  1 We cannot liue on Grasse, on Berries, Water,
As Beasts, and Birds, and Fishes

   Ti. Nor on the Beasts themselues, the Birds & Fishes,
You must eate men. Yet thankes I must you con,
That you are Theeues profest: that you worke not
In holier shapes: For there is boundlesse Theft
In limited Professions. Rascall Theeues
Heere's Gold. Go, sucke the subtle blood o'th' Grape,
Till the high Feauor seeth your blood to froth,
And so scape hanging. Trust not the Physitian,
His Antidotes are poyson, and he slayes
Moe then you Rob: Take wealth, and liues together,
Do Villaine do, since you protest to doo't.
Like Workemen, Ile example you with Theeuery:
The Sunnes a Theefe, and with his great attraction
Robbes the vaste Sea. The Moones an arrant Theefe,
And her pale fire, she snatches from the Sunne.
The Seas a Theefe, whose liquid Surge, resolues
The Moone into Salt teares. The Earth's a Theefe,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolne
From gen'rall excrement: each thing's a Theefe.
The Lawes, your curbe and whip, in their rough power
Ha's vncheck'd Theft. Loue not your selues, away,
Rob one another, there's more Gold, cut throates,
All that you meete are Theeues: to Athens go,
Breake open shoppes, nothing can you steale
But Theeues do loose it: steale lesse, for this I giue you,
And Gold confound you howsoere: Amen

   3 Has almost charm'd me from my Profession, by perswading
me to it

   1 'Tis in the malice of mankinde, that he thus aduises
vs not to haue vs thriue in our mystery

   2 Ile beleeue him as an Enemy,
And giue ouer my Trade

   1 Let vs first see peace in Athens, there is no time so
miserable, but a man may be true.

Exit Theeues.

Enter the Steward to Timon.

  Stew. Oh you Gods!
Is yon'd despis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and fayling? Oh Monument
And wonder of good deeds, euilly bestow'd!
What an alteration of Honor has desp'rate want made?
What vilder thing vpon the earth, then Friends,
Who can bring Noblest mindes, to basest ends.
How rarely does it meete with this times guise,
When man was wisht to loue his Enemies:
Grant I may euer loue, and rather woo
Those that would mischeefe me, then those that doo.
Has caught me in his eye, I will present my honest griefe
vnto him; and as my Lord, still serue him with my life.
My deerest Master

   Tim. Away: what art thou?
  Stew. Haue you forgot me, Sir?
  Tim. Why dost aske that? I haue forgot all men.
Then, if thou grunt'st, th'art a man.
I haue forgot thee

   Stew. An honest poore seruant of yours

   Tim. Then I know thee not:
I neuer had honest man about me, I all
I kept were Knaues, to serue in meate to Villaines

   Stew. The Gods are witnesse,
Neu'r did poore Steward weare a truer greefe
For his vndone Lord, then mine eyes for you

   Tim. What, dost thou weepe?
Come neerer, then I loue thee
Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st
Flinty mankinde: whose eyes do neuer giue,
But thorow Lust and Laughter: pittie's sleeping:
Strange times y weepe with laughing, not with weeping

   Stew. I begge of you to know me, good my Lord,
T' accept my greefe, and whil'st this poore wealth lasts,
To entertaine me as your Steward still

   Tim. Had I a Steward
So true, so iust, and now so comfortable?
It almost turnes my dangerous Nature wilde.
Let me behold thy face: Surely, this man
Was borne of woman.
Forgiue my generall, and exceptlesse rashnesse
You perpetuall sober Gods. I do proclaime
One honest man: Mistake me not, but one:
No more I pray, and hee's a Steward.
How faine would I haue hated all mankinde,
And thou redeem'st thy selfe. But all saue thee,
I fell with Curses.
Me thinkes thou art more honest now, then wise:
For, by oppressing and betraying mee,
Thou might'st haue sooner got another Seruice:
For many so arriue at second Masters,
Vpon their first Lords necke. But tell me true,
(For I must euer doubt, though ne're so sure)
Is not thy kindnesse subtle, couetous,
If not a Vsuring kindnesse, and as rich men deale Guifts,
Expecting in returne twenty for one?
  Stew. No my most worthy Master, in whose brest
Doubt, and suspect (alas) are plac'd too late:
You should haue fear'd false times, when you did Feast.
Suspect still comes, where an estate is least.
That which I shew, Heauen knowes, is meerely Loue,
Dutie, and Zeale, to your vnmatched minde;
Care of your Food and Liuing, and beleeue it,
My most Honour'd Lord,
For any benefit that points to mee,
Either in hope, or present, I'de exchange
For this one wish, that you had power and wealth
To requite me, by making rich your selfe

   Tim. Looke thee, 'tis so: thou singly honest man,
Heere take: the Gods out of my miserie
Ha's sent thee Treasure. Go, liue rich and happy,
But thus condition'd: Thou shalt build from men:
Hate all, curse all, shew Charity to none,
But let the famisht flesh slide from the Bone,
Ere thou releeue the Begger. Giue to dogges
What thou denyest to men. Let Prisons swallow 'em,
Debts wither 'em to nothing, be men like blasted woods
And may Diseases licke vp their false bloods,
And so farewell, and thriue

   Stew. O let me stay, and comfort you, my Master

   Tim. If thou hat'st Curses
Stay not: flye, whil'st thou art blest and free:
Ne're see thou man, and let me ne're see thee.

Exit

Enter Poet, and Painter.

  Pain. As I tooke note of the place, it cannot be farre
where he abides

   Poet. What's to be thought of him?
Does the Rumor hold for true,
That hee's so full of Gold?
  Painter. Certaine.
Alcibiades reports it: Phrinica and Timandylo
Had Gold of him. He likewise enrich'd
Poore stragling Souldiers, with great quantity.
'Tis saide, he gaue vnto his Steward
A mighty summe

   Poet. Then this breaking of his,
Ha's beene but a Try for his Friends?
  Painter. Nothing else:
You shall see him a Palme in Athens againe,
And flourish with the highest:
Therefore, 'tis not amisse, we tender our loues
To him, in this suppos'd distresse of his:
It will shew honestly in vs,
And is very likely, to loade our purposes
With what they trauaile for,
If it be a iust and true report, that goes
Of his hauing

   Poet. What haue you now
To present vnto him?
  Painter. Nothing at this time
But my Visitation: onely I will promise him
An excellent Peece

   Poet. I must serue him so too;
Tell him of an intent that's comming toward him

   Painter. Good as the best.
Promising, is the verie Ayre o'th' Time;
It opens the eyes of Expectation.
Performance, is euer the duller for his acte,
And but in the plainer and simpler kinde of people,
The deede of Saying is quite out of vse.
To Promise, is most Courtly and fashionable;
Performance, is a kinde of Will or Testament
Which argues a great sicknesse in his iudgement
That makes it.
Enter Timon from his Caue.

  Timon. Excellent Workeman,
Thou canst not paint a man so badde
As is thy selfe

   Poet. I am thinking
What I shall say I haue prouided for him:
It must be a personating of himselfe:
A Satyre against the softnesse of Prosperity,
With a Discouerie of the infinite Flatteries
That follow youth and opulencie

   Timon. Must thou needes
Stand for a Villaine in thine owne Worke?
Wilt thou whip thine owne faults in other men?
Do so, I haue Gold for thee

   Poet. Nay let's seeke him.
Then do we sinne against our owne estate,
When we may profit meete, and come too late

   Painter. True:
When the day serues before blacke-corner'd night;
Finde what thou want'st, by free and offer'd light.
Come

   Tim. Ile meete you at the turne:
What a Gods Gold, that he is worshipt
In a baser Temple, then where Swine feede?
'Tis thou that rigg'st the Barke, and plow'st the Fome,
Setlest admired reuerence in a Slaue,
To thee be worshipt, and thy Saints for aye:
Be crown'd with Plagues, that thee alone obay.
Fit I meet them

   Poet. Haile worthy Timon

   Pain. Our late Noble Master

   Timon. Haue I once liu'd
To see two honest men?
  Poet. Sir:
Hauing often of your open Bounty tasted,
Hearing you were retyr'd, your Friends falne off,
Whose thankelesse Natures (O abhorred Spirits)
Not all the Whippes of Heauen, are large enough.
What, to you,
Whose Starre-like Noblenesse gaue life and influence
To their whole being? I am rapt, and cannot couet
The monstrous bulke of this Ingratitude
With any size of words

   Timon. Let it go,
Naked men may see't the better:
You that are honest, by being what you are,
Make them best seene, and knowne

   Pain. He, and my selfe
Haue trauail'd in the great showre of your guifts,
And sweetly felt it

   Timon. I, you are honest man

   Painter. We are hither come
To offer you our seruice

   Timon. Most honest men:
Why how shall I requite you?
Can you eate Roots, and drinke cold water, no?
  Both. What we can do,
Wee'l do to do you seruice

   Tim. Y'are honest men,
Y'haue heard that I haue Gold,
I am sure you haue, speake truth, y'are honest men

   Pain. So it is said my Noble Lord, but therefore
Came not my Friend, nor I

   Timon. Good honest men: Thou draw'st a counterfet
Best in all Athens, th'art indeed the best,
Thou counterfet'st most liuely

   Pain. So, so, my Lord

   Tim. E'ne so sir as I say. And for thy fiction,
Why thy Verse swels with stuffe so fine and smooth,
That thou art euen Naturall in thine Art.
But for all this (my honest Natur'd friends)
I must needs say you haue a little fault,
Marry 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I
You take much paines to mend

   Both. Beseech your Honour
To make it knowne to vs

   Tim. You'l take it ill

   Both. Most thankefully, my Lord

   Timon. Will you indeed?
  Both. Doubt it not worthy Lord

   Tim. There's neuer a one of you but trusts a Knaue,
That mightily deceiues you

   Both. Do we, my Lord?
  Tim. I, and you heare him cogge,
See him dissemble,
Know his grosse patchery, loue him, feede him,
Keepe in your bosome, yet remaine assur'd
That he's a made-vp-Villaine

   Pain. I know none such, my Lord

   Poet. Nor I

   Timon. Looke you,
I loue you well, Ile giue you Gold
Rid me these Villaines from your companies;
Hang them, or stab them, drowne them in a draught,
Confound them by some course, and come to me,
Ile giue you Gold enough

   Both. Name them my Lord, let's know them

   Tim. You that way, and you this:
But two in Company:
Each man a part, all single, and alone,
Yet an arch Villaine keepes him company:
If where thou art, two Villaines shall not be,
Come not neere him. If thou would'st not recide
But where one Villaine is, then him abandon.
Hence, packe, there's Gold, you came for Gold ye slaues:
You haue worke for me; there's payment, hence,
You are an Alcumist, make Gold of that:
Out Rascall dogges.

Exeunt.

Enter Steward, and two Senators.

  Stew. It is vaine that you would speake with Timon:
For he is set so onely to himselfe,
That nothing but himselfe, which lookes like man,
Is friendly with him

   1.Sen. Bring vs to his Caue.
It is our part and promise to th' Athenians
To speake with Timon

   2.Sen. At all times alike
Men are not still the same: 'twas Time and Greefes
That fram'd him thus. Time with his fairer hand,
Offering the Fortunes of his former dayes,
The former man may make him: bring vs to him
And chanc'd it as it may

   Stew. Heere is his Caue:
Peace and content be heere. Lord Timon, Timon,
Looke out, and speake to Friends: Th' Athenians
By two of their most reuerend Senate greet thee:
Speake to them Noble Timon.
Enter Timon out of his Caue.

  Tim. Thou Sunne that comforts burne,
Speake and be hang'd:
For each true word, a blister, and each false
Be as a Cantherizing to the root o'th' Tongue,
Consuming it with speaking

   1 Worthy Timon

   Tim. Of none but such as you,
And you of Timon

   1 The Senators of Athens, greet thee Timon

   Tim. I thanke them,
And would send them backe the plague,
Could I but catch it for them

   1 O forget
What we are sorry for our selues in thee:
The Senators, with one consent of loue,
Intreate thee backe to Athens, who haue thought
On speciall Dignities, which vacant lye
For thy best vse and wearing

   2 They confesse
Toward thee, forgetfulnesse too generall grosse;
Which now the publike Body, which doth sildome
Play the recanter, feeling in it selfe
A lacke of Timons ayde, hath since withall
Of it owne fall, restraining ayde to Timon,
And send forth vs, to make their sorrowed render,
Together, with a recompence more fruitfull
Then their offence can weigh downe by the Dramme,
I euen such heapes and summes of Loue and Wealth,
As shall to thee blot out, what wrongs were theirs,
And write in thee the figures of their loue,
Euer to read them thine

   Tim. You witch me in it;
Surprize me to the very brinke of teares;
Lend me a Fooles heart, and a womans eyes,
And Ile beweepe these comforts, worthy Senators

   1 Therefore so please thee to returne with vs,
And of our Athens, thine and ours to take
The Captainship, thou shalt be met with thankes,
Allowed with absolute power, and thy good name
Liue with Authoritie: so soone we shall driue backe
Of Alcibiades th' approaches wild,
Who like a Bore too sauage, doth root vp
His Countries peace

   2 And shakes his threatning Sword
Against the walles of Athens

   1 Therefore Timon

   Tim. Well sir, I will: therefore I will sir thus:
If Alcibiades kill my Countrymen,
Let Alcibiades know this of Timon,
That Timon cares not. But if he sacke faire Athens,
And take our goodly aged men by'th' Beards,
Giuing our holy Virgins to the staine
Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd warre:
Then let him know, and tell him Timon speakes it,
In pitty of our aged, and our youth,
I cannot choose but tell him that I care not,
And let him tak't at worst: For their Kniues care not,
While you haue throats to answer. For my selfe,
There's not a whittle, in th' vnruly Campe,
But I do prize it at my loue, before
The reuerends Throat in Athens. So I leaue you
To the protection of the prosperous Gods,
As Theeues to Keepers

   Stew. Stay not, all's in vaine

   Tim. Why I was writing of my Epitaph,
It will be seene to morrow. My long sicknesse
Of Health, and Liuing, now begins to mend,
And nothing brings me all things. Go, liue still,
Be Alcibiades your plague; you his,
And last so long enough

   1 We speake in vaine

   Tim. But yet I loue my Country, and am not
One that reioyces in the common wracke,
As common bruite doth put it

   1 That's well spoke

   Tim. Commend me to my louing Countreymen

   1 These words become your lippes as they passe thorow
them

   2 And enter in our eares, like great Triumphers
In their applauding gates

   Tim. Commend me to them,
And tell them, that to ease them of their greefes,
Their feares of Hostile strokes, their Aches losses,
Their pangs of Loue, with other incident throwes
That Natures fragile Vessell doth sustaine
In lifes vncertaine voyage, I will some kindnes do them,
Ile teach them to preuent wilde Alcibiades wrath

   1 I like this well, he will returne againe

   Tim. I haue a Tree which growes heere in my Close,
That mine owne vse inuites me to cut downe,
And shortly must I fell it. Tell my Friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that who so please
To stop Affliction, let him take his haste;
Come hither ere my Tree hath felt the Axe,
And hang himselfe. I pray you do my greeting

   Stew. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall
Finde him

   Tim. Come not to me againe, but say to Athens,
Timon hath made his euerlasting Mansion
Vpon the Beached Verge of the salt Flood,
Who once a day with his embossed Froth
The turbulent Surge shall couer; thither come,
And let my graue-stone be your Oracle:
Lippes, let foure words go by, and Language end:
What is amisse, Plague and Infection mend.
Graues onely be mens workes, and Death their gaine;
Sunne, hide thy Beames, Timon hath done his Raigne.

Exit Timon.

  1 His discontents are vnremoueably coupled to Nature

   2 Our hope in him is dead: let vs returne,
And straine what other meanes is left vnto vs
In our deere perill

   1 It requires swift foot.

Exeunt.

Enter two other Senators, with a Messenger.

  1 Thou hast painfully discouer'd: are his Files
As full as thy report?
  Mes. I haue spoke the least.
Besides his expedition promises present approach

   2 We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon

   Mes. I met a Currier, one mine ancient Friend,
Whom though in generall part we were oppos'd,
Yet our old loue made a particular force,
And made vs speake like Friends. This man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timons Caue,
With Letters of intreaty, which imported
His Fellowship i'th' cause against your City,
In part for his sake mou'd.
Enter the other Senators.

  1 Heere come our Brothers

   3 No talke of Timon, nothing of him expect,
The Enemies Drumme is heard, and fearefull scouring
Doth choake the ayre with dust: In, and prepare,
Ours is the fall I feare, our Foes the Snare.

Exeunt.

Enter a Souldier in the Woods, seeking Timon.

  Sol. By all description this should be the place.
Whose heere? Speake hoa. No answer? What is this?
Tymon is dead, who hath out-stretcht his span,
Some Beast reade this; There do's not liue a Man.
Dead sure, and this his Graue, what's on this Tomb,
I cannot read: the Charracter Ile take with wax,
Our Captaine hath in euery Figure skill;
An ag'd Interpreter, though yong in dayes:
Before proud Athens hee's set downe by this,
Whose fall the marke of his Ambition is.
Enter.

Trumpets sound. Enter Alcibiades with his Powers before Athens.

  Alc. Sound to this Coward, and lasciuious Towne,
Our terrible approach.

Sounds a Parly.

The Senators appeare vpon the wals.

Till now you haue gone on, and fill'd the time
With all Licentious measure, making your willes
The scope of Iustice. Till now, my selfe and such
As slept within the shadow of your power
Haue wander'd with our trauerst Armes, and breath'd
Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush,
When crouching Marrow in the bearer strong
Cries (of it selfe) no more: Now breathlesse wrong,
Shall sit and pant in your great Chaires of ease,
And pursie Insolence shall breake his winde
With feare and horrid flight

   1.Sen. Noble, and young;
When thy first greefes were but a meere conceit,
Ere thou had'st power, or we had cause of feare,
We sent to thee, to giue thy rages Balme,
To wipe out our Ingratitude, with Loues
Aboue their quantitie

   2 So did we wooe
Transformed Timon, to our Citties loue
By humble Message, and by promist meanes:
We were not all vnkinde, nor all deserue
The common stroke of warre

   1 These walles of ours,
Were not erected by their hands, from whom
You haue receyu'd your greefe: Nor are they such,
That these great Towres, Trophees, & Schools shold fall
For priuate faults in them

   2 Nor are they liuing
Who were the motiues that you first went out,
(Shame that they wanted, cunning in excesse)
Hath broke their hearts. March, Noble Lord,
Into our City with thy Banners spred,
By decimation and a tythed death;
If thy Reuenges hunger for that Food
Which Nature loathes, take thou the destin'd tenth,
And by the hazard of the spotted dye,
Let dye the spotted

   1 All haue not offended:
For those that were, it is not square to take
On those that are, Reuenge: Crimes, like Lands
Are not inherited, then deere Countryman,
Bring in thy rankes, but leaue without thy rage,
Spare thy Athenian Cradle, and those Kin
Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall
With those that haue offended, like a Shepheard,
Approach the Fold, and cull th' infected forth,
But kill not altogether

   2 What thou wilt,
Thou rather shalt inforce it with thy smile,
Then hew too't, with thy Sword

   1 Set but thy foot
Against our rampyr'd gates, and they shall ope:
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say thou't enter Friendly

   2 Throw thy Gloue,
Or any Token of thine Honour else,
That thou wilt vse the warres as thy redresse,
And not as our Confusion: All thy Powers
Shall make their harbour in our Towne, till wee
Haue seal'd thy full desire

   Alc. Then there's my Gloue,
Defend and open your vncharged Ports,
Those Enemies of Timons, and mine owne
Whom you your selues shall set out for reproofe,
Fall and no more; and to attone your feares
With my more Noble meaning, not a man
Shall passe his quarter, or offend the streame
Of Regular Iustice in your Citties bounds,
But shall be remedied to your publique Lawes
At heauiest answer

   Both. 'Tis most Nobly spoken

   Alc. Descend, and keepe your words.
Enter a Messenger.

  Mes. My Noble Generall, Timon is dead,
Entomb'd vpon the very hemme o'th' Sea,
And on his Grauestone, this Insculpture which
With wax I brought away: whose soft Impression
Interprets for my poore ignorance.

Alcibiades reades the Epitaph.

Heere lies a wretched Coarse, of wretched Soule bereft,
Seek not my name: A Plague consume you, wicked Caitifs left:
Heere lye I Timon, who aliue, all liuing men did hate,
Passe by, and curse thy fill, but passe and stay not here thy gate.
These well expresse in thee thy latter spirits:
Though thou abhorrd'st in vs our humane griefes,
Scornd'st our Braines flow, and those our droplets, which
From niggard Nature fall; yet Rich Conceit
Taught thee to make vast Neptune weepe for aye
On thy low Graue, on faults forgiuen. Dead
Is Noble Timon, of whose Memorie
Heereafter more. Bring me into your Citie,
And I will vse the Oliue, with my Sword:
Make war breed peace; make peace stint war, make each
Prescribe to other, as each others Leach.
Let our Drummes strike.

Exeunt.


FINIS.

THE ACTORS NAMES.

TYMON of Athens.
Lucius, And Lucullus, two Flattering Lords.
Appemantus, a Churlish Philosopher.
Sempronius another flattering Lord.
Alcibiades, an Athenian Captaine.
Poet.
Painter.
Ieweller.
Merchant.
Certaine Theeues.
Flaminius, one of Tymons Seruants.
Seruilius, another.
Caphis.
Varro.
Philo.
Titus.
Lucius.
Hortensis Seuerall Seruants to Vsurers.
Ventigius. one of Tymons false Friends.
Cupid.
Sempronius. With diuers other Seruants, And Attendants.

THE LIFE OF TYMON OF ATHENS.


The Tragedie of Julius Caesar

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Flauius, Murellus, and certaine Commoners ouer the Stage.

  Flauius. Hence: home you idle Creatures, get you home:
Is this a Holiday? What, know you not
(Being Mechanicall) you ought not walke
Vpon a labouring day, without the signe
Of your Profession? Speake, what Trade art thou?
  Car. Why Sir, a Carpenter

   Mur. Where is thy Leather Apron, and thy Rule?
What dost thou with thy best Apparrell on?
You sir, what Trade are you?
  Cobl. Truely Sir, in respect of a fine Workman, I am
but as you would say, a Cobler

   Mur. But what Trade art thou? Answer me directly

   Cob. A Trade Sir, that I hope I may vse, with a safe
Conscience, which is indeed Sir, a Mender of bad soules

   Fla. What Trade thou knaue? Thou naughty knaue,
what Trade?
  Cobl. Nay I beseech you Sir, be not out with me: yet
if you be out Sir, I can mend you

   Mur. What mean'st thou by that? Mend mee, thou
sawcy Fellow?
  Cob. Why sir, Cobble you

   Fla. Thou art a Cobler, art thou?
  Cob. Truly sir, all that I liue by, is with the Aule: I
meddle with no Tradesmans matters, nor womens matters;
but withal I am indeed Sir, a Surgeon to old shooes:
when they are in great danger, I recouer them. As proper
men as euer trod vpon Neats Leather, haue gone vpon
my handy-worke

   Fla. But wherefore art not in thy Shop to day?
Why do'st thou leade these men about the streets?
  Cob. Truly sir, to weare out their shooes, to get my
selfe into more worke. But indeede sir, we make Holyday
to see Caesar, and to reioyce in his Triumph

   Mur. Wherefore reioyce?
What Conquest brings he home?
What Tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in Captiue bonds his Chariot Wheeles?
You Blockes, you stones, you worse then senslesse things:
O you hard hearts, you cruell men of Rome,
Knew you not Pompey many a time and oft?
Haue you climb'd vp to Walles and Battlements,
To Towres and Windowes? Yea, to Chimney tops,
Your Infants in your Armes, and there haue sate
The liue-long day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey passe the streets of Rome:
And when you saw his Chariot but appeare,
Haue you not made an Vniuersall shout,
That Tyber trembled vnderneath her bankes
To heare the replication of your sounds,
Made in her Concaue Shores?
And do you now put on your best attyre?
And do you now cull out a Holyday?
And do you now strew Flowers in his way,
That comes in Triumph ouer Pompeyes blood?
Be gone,
Runne to your houses, fall vpon your knees,
Pray to the Gods to intermit the plague
That needs must light on this Ingratitude

   Fla. Go, go, good Countrymen, and for this fault
Assemble all the poore men of your sort;
Draw them to Tyber bankes, and weepe your teares
Into the Channell, till the lowest streame
Do kisse the most exalted Shores of all.

Exeunt. all the Commoners.

See where their basest mettle be not mou'd,
They vanish tongue-tyed in their guiltinesse:
Go you downe that way towards the Capitoll,
This way will I: Disrobe the Images,
If you do finde them deckt with Ceremonies

   Mur. May we do so?
You know it is the Feast of Lupercall

   Fla. It is no matter, let no Images
Be hung with Caesars Trophees: Ile about,
And driue away the Vulgar from the streets;
So do you too, where you perceiue them thicke.
These growing Feathers, pluckt from Caesars wing,
Will make him flye an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soare aboue the view of men,
And keepe vs all in seruile fearefulnesse.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, Antony for the Course, Calphurnia, Portia, Decius,
Cicero,
Brutus, Cassius, Caska, a Soothsayer: after them Murellus and
Flauius.

  Caes. Calphurnia

   Cask. Peace ho, Caesar speakes

   Caes. Calphurnia

   Calp. Heere my Lord

   Caes. Stand you directly in Antonio's way,
When he doth run his course. Antonio

   Ant. Cæsar, my Lord

   Caes. Forget not in your speed Antonio,
To touch Calphurnia: for our Elders say,
The Barren touched in this holy chace,
Shake off their sterrile curse

   Ant. I shall remember,
When Caesar sayes, Do this; it is perform'd

   Caes. Set on, and leaue no Ceremony out

   Sooth. Caesar

   Caes. Ha? Who calles?
  Cask. Bid euery noyse be still: peace yet againe

   Caes. Who is it in the presse, that calles on me?
I heare a Tongue shriller then all the Musicke
Cry, Caesar: Speake, Caesar is turn'd to heare

   Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

   Caes. What man is that?
  Br. A Sooth-sayer bids you beware the Ides of March
  Caes. Set him before me, let me see his face

   Cassi. Fellow, come from the throng, look vpon Caesar

   Caes. What sayst thou to me now? Speak once againe,
  Sooth. Beware the Ides of March

   Caes. He is a Dreamer, let vs leaue him: Passe.

Sennet

Exeunt. Manet Brut. & Cass.

  Cassi. Will you go see the order of the course?
  Brut. Not I

   Cassi. I pray you do

   Brut. I am not Gamesom: I do lacke some part
Of that quicke Spirit that is in Antony:
Let me not hinder Cassius your desires;
Ile leaue you

   Cassi. Brutus, I do obserue you now of late:
I haue not from your eyes, that gentlenesse
And shew of Loue, as I was wont to haue:
You beare too stubborne, and too strange a hand
Ouer your Friend, that loues you

   Bru. Cassius,
Be not deceiu'd: If I haue veyl'd my looke,
I turne the trouble of my Countenance
Meerely vpon my selfe. Vexed I am
Of late, with passions of some difference,
Conceptions onely proper to my selfe,
Which giue some soyle (perhaps) to my Behauiours:
But let not therefore my good Friends be greeu'd
(Among which number Cassius be you one)
Nor construe any further my neglect,
Then that poore Brutus with himselfe at warre,
Forgets the shewes of Loue to other men

   Cassi. Then Brutus, I haue much mistook your passion,
By meanes whereof, this Brest of mine hath buried
Thoughts of great value, worthy Cogitations.
Tell me good Brutus, Can you see your face?
  Brutus. No Cassius:
For the eye sees not it selfe but by reflection,
By some other things

   Cassius. 'Tis iust,
And it is very much lamented Brutus,
That you haue no such Mirrors, as will turne
Your hidden worthinesse into your eye,
That you might see your shadow:
I haue heard,
Where many of the best respect in Rome,
(Except immortall Caesar) speaking of Brutus,
And groaning vnderneath this Ages yoake,
Haue wish'd, that Noble Brutus had his eyes

   Bru. Into what dangers, would you
Leade me Cassius?
That you would haue me seeke into my selfe,
For that which is not in me?
  Cas. Therefore good Brutus, be prepar'd to heare:
And since you know, you cannot see your selfe
So well as by Reflection; I your Glasse,
Will modestly discouer to your selfe
That of your selfe, which you yet know not of.
And be not iealous on me, gentle Brutus:
Were I a common Laughter, or did vse
To stale with ordinary Oathes my loue
To euery new Protester: if you know,
That I do fawne on men, and hugge them hard,
And after scandall them: Or if you know,
That I professe my selfe in Banquetting
To all the Rout, then hold me dangerous.

Flourish, and Shout.

  Bru. What meanes this Showting?
I do feare, the People choose Caesar
For their King

   Cassi. I, do you feare it?
Then must I thinke you would not haue it so

   Bru. I would not Cassius, yet I loue him well:
But wherefore do you hold me heere so long?
What is it, that you would impart to me?
If it be ought toward the generall good,
Set Honor in one eye, and Death i'th other,
And I will looke on both indifferently:
For let the Gods so speed mee, as I loue
The name of Honor, more then I feare death

   Cassi. I know that vertue to be in you Brutus,
As well as I do know your outward fauour.
Well, Honor is the subiect of my Story:
I cannot tell, what you and other men
Thinke of this life: But for my single selfe,
I had as liefe not be, as liue to be
In awe of such a Thing, as I my selfe.
I was borne free as Caesar, so were you,
We both haue fed as well, and we can both
Endure the Winters cold, as well as hee.
For once, vpon a Rawe and Gustie day,
The troubled Tyber, chafing with her Shores,
Caesar saide to me, Dar'st thou Cassius now
Leape in with me into this angry Flood,
And swim to yonder Point? Vpon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bad him follow: so indeed he did.
The Torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it
With lusty Sinewes, throwing it aside,
And stemming it with hearts of Controuersie.
But ere we could arriue the Point propos'd,
Caesar cride, Helpe me Cassius, or I sinke.
I (as Aeneas, our great Ancestor,
Did from the Flames of Troy, vpon his shoulder
The old Anchyses beare) so, from the waues of Tyber
Did I the tyred Caesar: And this Man,
Is now become a God, and Cassius is
A wretched Creature, and must bend his body,
If Caesar carelesly but nod on him.
He had a Feauer when he was in Spaine,
And when the Fit was on him, I did marke
How he did shake: Tis true, this God did shake,
His Coward lippes did from their colour flye,
And that same Eye, whose bend doth awe the World,
Did loose his Lustre: I did heare him grone:
I, and that Tongue of his, that bad the Romans
Marke him, and write his Speeches in their Bookes,
Alas, it cried, Giue me some drinke Titinius,
As a sicke Girle: Ye Gods, it doth amaze me,
A man of such a feeble temper should
So get the start of the Maiesticke world,
And beare the Palme alone.

Shout. Flourish.

  Bru. Another generall shout?
I do beleeue, that these applauses are
For some new Honors, that are heap'd on Caesar

   Cassi. Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walke vnder his huge legges, and peepe about
To finde our selues dishonourable Graues.
Men at sometime, are Masters of their Fates.
The fault (deere Brutus) is not in our Starres,
But in our Selues, that we are vnderlings.
Brutus and Caesar: What should be in that Caesar?
Why should that name be sounded more then yours
Write them together: Yours, is as faire a Name:
Sound them, it doth become the mouth aswell:
Weigh them, it is as heauy: Coniure with 'em,
Brutus will start a Spirit as soone as Caesar.
Now in the names of all the Gods at once,
Vpon what meate doth this our Caesar feede,
That he is growne so great? Age, thou art sham'd.
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of Noble Bloods.
When went there by an Age, since the great Flood,
But it was fam'd with more then with one man?
When could they say (till now) that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide Walkes incompast but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed, and Roome enough
When there is in it but one onely man.
O! you and I, haue heard our Fathers say,
There was a Brutus once, that would haue brook'd
Th' eternall Diuell to keepe his State in Rome,
As easily as a King

   Bru. That you do loue me, I am nothing iealous:
What you would worke me too, I haue some ayme:
How I haue thought of this, and of these times
I shall recount heereafter. For this present,
I would not so (with loue I might intreat you)
Be any further moou'd: What you haue said,
I will consider: what you haue to say
I will with patience heare, and finde a time
Both meete to heare, and answer such high things.
Till then, my Noble Friend, chew vpon this:
Brutus had rather be a Villager,
Then to repute himselfe a Sonne of Rome
Vnder these hard Conditions, as this time
Is like to lay vpon vs

   Cassi. I am glad that my weake words
Haue strucke but thus much shew of fire from Brutus,
Enter Caesar and his Traine.

  Bru. The Games are done,
And Caesar is returning

   Cassi. As they passe by,
Plucke Caska by the Sleeue,
And he will (after his sowre fashion) tell you
What hath proceeded worthy note to day

   Bru. I will do so: but looke you Cassius,
The angry spot doth glow on Caesars brow,
And all the rest, looke like a chidden Traine;
Calphurnia's Cheeke is pale, and Cicero
Lookes with such Ferret, and such fiery eyes
As we haue seene him in the Capitoll
Being crost in Conference, by some Senators

   Cassi. Caska will tell vs what the matter is

   Caes Antonio

   Ant. Caesar

   Caes Let me haue men about me, that are fat,
Sleeke-headed men, and such as sleepe a-nights:
Yond Cassius has a leane and hungry looke,
He thinkes too much: such men are dangerous

   Ant. Feare him not Caesar, he's not dangerous,
He is a Noble Roman, and well giuen

   Caes Would he were fatter; But I feare him not:
Yet if my name were lyable to feare,
I do not know the man I should auoyd
So soone as that spare Cassius. He reades much,
He is a great Obseruer, and he lookes
Quite through the Deeds of men. He loues no Playes,
As thou dost Antony: he heares no Musicke;
Seldome he smiles, and smiles in such a sort
As if he mock'd himselfe, and scorn'd his spirit
That could be mou'd to smile at any thing.
Such men as he, be neuer at hearts ease,
Whiles they behold a greater then themselues,
And therefore are they very dangerous.
I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd,
Then what I feare: for alwayes I am Caesar.
Come on my right hand, for this eare is deafe,
And tell me truely, what thou think'st of him.

Sennit.

Exeunt. Caesar and his Traine.

  Cask. You pul'd me by the cloake, would you speake
with me?
  Bru. I Caska, tell vs what hath chanc'd to day
That Caesar lookes so sad

   Cask. Why you were with him, were you not?
  Bru. I should not then aske Caska what had chanc'd

   Cask. Why there was a Crowne offer'd him; & being
offer'd him, he put it by with the backe of his hand thus,
and then the people fell a shouting

   Bru. What was the second noyse for?
  Cask. Why for that too

   Cassi. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for?
  Cask. Why for that too

   Bru. Was the Crowne offer'd him thrice?
  Cask. I marry was't, and hee put it by thrice, euerie
time gentler then other; and at euery putting by, mine
honest Neighbors showted

   Cassi. Who offer'd him the Crowne?
  Cask. Why Antony

   Bru. Tell vs the manner of it, gentle Caska

   Caska. I can as well bee hang'd as tell the manner of
it: It was meere Foolerie, I did not marke it. I sawe
Marke Antony offer him a Crowne, yet 'twas not a
Crowne neyther, 'twas one of these Coronets: and as I
told you, hee put it by once: but for all that, to my thinking,
he would faine haue had it. Then hee offered it to
him againe: then hee put it by againe: but to my thinking,
he was very loath to lay his fingers off it. And then
he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by,
and still as hee refus'd it, the rabblement howted, and
clapp'd their chopt hands, and threw vppe their sweatie
Night-cappes, and vttered such a deale of stinking
breath, because Caesar refus'd the Crowne, that it had
(almost) choaked Caesar: for hee swoonded, and fell
downe at it: And for mine owne part, I durst not laugh,
for feare of opening my Lippes, and receyuing the bad
Ayre

   Cassi. But soft I pray you: what, did Caesar swound?
  Cask. He fell downe in the Market-place, and foam'd
at mouth, and was speechlesse

   Brut. 'Tis very like he hath the Falling sicknesse

   Cassi. No, Caesar hath it not: but you, and I,
And honest Caska, we haue the Falling sicknesse

   Cask. I know not what you meane by that, but I am
sure Caesar fell downe. If the tag-ragge people did not
clap him, and hisse him, according as he pleas'd, and displeas'd
them, as they vse to doe the Players in the Theatre,
I am no true man

   Brut. What said he, when he came vnto himselfe?
  Cask. Marry, before he fell downe, when he perceiu'd
the common Heard was glad he refus'd the Crowne, he
pluckt me ope his Doublet, and offer'd them his Throat
to cut: and I had beene a man of any Occupation, if I
would not haue taken him at a word, I would I might
goe to Hell among the Rogues, and so hee fell. When
he came to himselfe againe, hee said, If hee had done, or
said any thing amisse, he desir'd their Worships to thinke
it was his infirmitie. Three or foure Wenches where I
stood, cryed, Alasse good Soule, and forgaue him with
all their hearts: But there's no heed to be taken of them;
if Caesar had stab'd their Mothers, they would haue done
no lesse

   Brut. And after that, he came thus sad away

   Cask. I

   Cassi. Did Cicero say any thing?
  Cask. I, he spoke Greeke

   Cassi. To what effect?
  Cask. Nay, and I tell you that, Ile ne're looke you
i'th' face againe. But those that vnderstood him, smil'd
at one another, and shooke their heads: but for mine
owne part, it was Greeke to me. I could tell you more
newes too: Murrellus and Flauius, for pulling Scarffes
off Caesars Images, are put to silence. Fare you well.
There was more Foolerie yet, if I could remember
it

   Cassi. Will you suppe with me to Night, Caska?
  Cask. No, I am promis'd forth

   Cassi. Will you Dine with me to morrow?
  Cask. I, if I be aliue, and your minde hold, and your
Dinner worth the eating

   Cassi. Good, I will expect you

   Cask. Doe so: farewell both.
Enter.

  Brut. What a blunt fellow is this growne to be?
He was quick Mettle, when he went to Schoole

   Cassi. So is he now, in execution
Of any bold, or Noble Enterprize,
How-euer he puts on this tardie forme:
This Rudenesse is a Sawce to his good Wit,
Which giues men stomacke to disgest his words
With better Appetite

   Brut. And so it is:
For this time I will leaue you:
To morrow, if you please to speake with me,
I will come home to you: or if you will,
Come home to me, and I will wait for you

   Cassi. I will doe so: till then, thinke of the World.
Exit Brutus.

Well Brutus, thou art Noble: yet I see,
Thy Honorable Mettle may be wrought
From that it is dispos'd: therefore it is meet,
That Noble mindes keepe euer with their likes:
For who so firme, that cannot be seduc'd?
Caesar doth beare me hard, but he loues Brutus.
If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius,
He should not humor me. I will this Night,
In seuerall Hands, in at his Windowes throw,
As if they came from seuerall Citizens,
Writings, all tending to the great opinion
That Rome holds of his Name: wherein obscurely
Caesars Ambition shall be glanced at.
And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,
For wee will shake him, or worse dayes endure.
Enter.

Thunder, and Lightning. Enter Caska, and Cicero.

  Cic. Good euen, Caska: brought you Caesar home?
Why are you breathlesse, and why stare you so?
  Cask. Are not you mou'd, when all the sway of Earth
Shakes, like a thing vnfirme? O Cicero,
I haue seene Tempests, when the scolding Winds
Haue riu'd the knottie Oakes, and I haue seene
Th' ambitious Ocean swell, and rage, and foame,
To be exalted with the threatning Clouds:
But neuer till to Night, neuer till now,
Did I goe through a Tempest-dropping-fire.
Eyther there is a Ciuill strife in Heauen,
Or else the World, too sawcie with the Gods,
Incenses them to send destruction

   Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderfull?
  Cask. A common slaue, you know him well by sight,
Held vp his left Hand, which did flame and burne
Like twentie Torches ioyn'd; and yet his Hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd vnscorch'd.
Besides, I ha' not since put vp my Sword,
Against the Capitoll I met a Lyon,
Who glaz'd vpon me, and went surly by,
Without annoying me. And there were drawne
Vpon a heape, a hundred gastly Women,
Transformed with their feare, who swore, they saw
Men, all in fire, walke vp and downe the streetes.
And yesterday, the Bird of Night did sit,
Euen at Noone-day, vpon the Market place,
Howting, and shreeking. When these Prodigies
Doe so conioyntly meet, let not men say,
These are their Reasons, they are Naturall:
For I beleeue, they are portentous things
Vnto the Clymate, that they point vpon

   Cic. Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Cleane from the purpose of the things themselues.
Comes Caesar to the Capitoll to morrow?
  Cask. He doth: for he did bid Antonio
Send word to you, he would be there to morrow

   Cic. Good-night then, Caska:
This disturbed Skie is not to walke in

   Cask. Farewell Cicero.

Exit Cicero.

Enter Cassius.

  Cassi. Who's there?
  Cask. A Romane

   Cassi. Caska, by your Voyce

   Cask. Your Eare is good.
Cassius, what Night is this?
  Cassi. A very pleasing Night to honest men

   Cask. Who euer knew the Heauens menace so?
  Cassi. Those that haue knowne the Earth so full of
faults.
For my part, I haue walk'd about the streets,
Submitting me vnto the perillous Night;
And thus vnbraced, Caska, as you see,
Haue bar'd my Bosome to the Thunder-stone:
And when the crosse blew Lightning seem'd to open
The Brest of Heauen, I did present my selfe
Euen in the ayme, and very flash of it

   Cask. But wherefore did you so much tempt the Heauens?
It is the part of men, to feare and tremble,
When the most mightie Gods, by tokens send
Such dreadfull Heraulds, to astonish vs

   Cassi. You are dull, Caska:
And those sparkes of Life, that should be in a Roman,
You doe want, or else you vse not.
You looke pale, and gaze, and put on feare,
And cast your selfe in wonder,
To see the strange impatience of the Heauens:
But if you would consider the true cause,
Why all these Fires, why all these gliding Ghosts,
Why Birds and Beasts, from qualitie and kinde,
Why Old men, Fooles, and Children calculate,
Why all these things change from their Ordinance,
Their Natures, and pre-formed Faculties,
To monstrous qualitie; why you shall finde,
That Heauen hath infus'd them with these Spirits,
To make them Instruments of feare, and warning,
Vnto some monstrous State.
Now could I (Caska) name to thee a man,
Most like this dreadfull Night,
That Thunders, Lightens, opens Graues, and roares,
As doth the Lyon in the Capitoll:
A man no mightier then thy selfe, or me,
In personall action; yet prodigious growne,
And fearefull, as these strange eruptions are

   Cask. 'Tis Caesar that you meane:
Is it not, Cassius?
  Cassi. Let it be who it is: for Romans now
Haue Thewes, and Limbes, like to their Ancestors;
But woe the while, our Fathers mindes are dead,
And we are gouern'd with our Mothers spirits,
Our yoake, and sufferance, shew vs Womanish

   Cask. Indeed, they say, the Senators to morrow
Meane to establish Caesar as a King:
And he shall weare his Crowne by Sea, and Land,
In euery place, saue here in Italy

   Cassi. I know where I will weare this Dagger then;
Cassius from Bondage will deliuer Cassius:
Therein, yee Gods, you make the weake most strong;
Therein, yee Gods, you Tyrants doe defeat.
Nor Stonie Tower, nor Walls of beaten Brasse,
Nor ayre-lesse Dungeon, nor strong Linkes of Iron,
Can be retentiue to the strength of spirit:
But Life being wearie of these worldly Barres,
Neuer lacks power to dismisse it selfe.
If I know this, know all the World besides,
That part of Tyrannie that I doe beare,
I can shake off at pleasure.

Thunder still.

  Cask. So can I:
So euery Bond-man in his owne hand beares
The power to cancell his Captiuitie

   Cassi. And why should Cæsar be a Tyrant then?
Poore man, I know he would not be a Wolfe,
But that he sees the Romans are but Sheepe:
He were no Lyon, were not Romans Hindes.
Those that with haste will make a mightie fire,
Begin it with weake Strawes. What trash is Rome?
What Rubbish, and what Offall? when it serues
For the base matter, to illuminate
So vile a thing as Caesar. But oh Griefe,
Where hast thou led me? I (perhaps) speake this
Before a willing Bond-man: then I know
My answere must be made. But I am arm'd,
And dangers are to me indifferent

   Cask. You speake to Caska, and to such a man,
That is no flearing Tell-tale. Hold, my Hand:
Be factious for redresse of all these Griefes,
And I will set this foot of mine as farre,
As who goes farthest

   Cassi. There's a Bargaine made.
Now know you, Caska, I haue mou'd already
Some certaine of the Noblest minded Romans
To vnder-goe, with me, an Enterprize,
Of Honorable dangerous consequence;
And I doe know by this, they stay for me
In Pompeyes Porch: for now this fearefull Night,
There is no stirre, or walking in the streetes;
And the Complexion of the Element
Is Fauors, like the Worke we haue in hand,
Most bloodie, fierie, and most terrible.
Enter Cinna.

  Caska. Stand close a while, for heere comes one in
haste

   Cassi. 'Tis Cinna, I doe know him by his Gate,
He is a friend. Cinna, where haste you so?
  Cinna. To finde out you: Who's that, Metellus
Cymber?
  Cassi. No, it is Caska, one incorporate
To our Attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna?
  Cinna. I am glad on't.
What a fearefull Night is this?
There's two or three of vs haue seene strange sights

   Cassi. Am I not stay'd for? tell me

   Cinna. Yes, you are. O Cassius,
If you could but winne the Noble Brutus
To our party-
  Cassi. Be you content. Good Cinna, take this Paper,
And looke you lay it in the Pretors Chayre,
Where Brutus may but finde it: and throw this
In at his Window; set this vp with Waxe
Vpon old Brutus Statue: all this done,
Repaire to Pompeyes Porch, where you shall finde vs.
Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there?
  Cinna. All, but Metellus Cymber, and hee's gone
To seeke you at your house. Well, I will hie,
And so bestow these Papers as you bad me

   Cassi. That done, repayre to Pompeyes Theater.

Exit Cinna.

Come Caska, you and I will yet, ere day,
See Brutus at his house: three parts of him
Is ours alreadie, and the man entire
Vpon the next encounter, yeelds him ours

   Cask. O, he sits high in all the Peoples hearts:
And that which would appeare Offence in vs,
His Countenance, like richest Alchymie,
Will change to Vertue, and to Worthinesse

   Cassi. Him, and his worth, and our great need of him,
You haue right well conceited: let vs goe,
For it is after Mid-night, and ere day,
We will awake him, and be sure of him.

Exeunt.


Actus Secundus.

Enter Brutus in his Orchard.

  Brut. What Lucius, hoe?
I cannot, by the progresse of the Starres,
Giue guesse how neere to day- Lucius, I say?
I would it were my fault to sleepe so soundly.
When Lucius, when? awake, I say: what Lucius?
Enter Lucius.

  Luc. Call'd you, my Lord?
  Brut. Get me a Tapor in my Study, Lucius:
When it is lighted, come and call me here

   Luc. I will, my Lord.
Enter.

  Brut. It must be by his death: and for my part,
I know no personall cause, to spurne at him,
But for the generall. He would be crown'd:
How that might change his nature, there's the question?
It is the bright day, that brings forth the Adder,
And that craues warie walking: Crowne him that,
And then I graunt we put a Sting in him,
That at his will he may doe danger with.
Th' abuse of Greatnesse, is, when it dis-ioynes
Remorse from Power: And to speake truth of Caesar,
I haue not knowne, when his Affections sway'd
More then his Reason. But 'tis a common proofe,
That Lowlynesse is young Ambitions Ladder,
Whereto the Climber vpward turnes his Face:
But when he once attaines the vpmost Round,
He then vnto the Ladder turnes his Backe,
Lookes in the Clouds, scorning the base degrees
By which he did ascend: so Caesar may;
Then least he may, preuent. And since the Quarrell
Will beare no colour, for the thing he is,
Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented,
Would runne to these, and these extremities:
And therefore thinke him as a Serpents egge,
Which hatch'd, would as his kinde grow mischieuous;
And kill him in the shell.
Enter Lucius.

  Luc. The Taper burneth in your Closet, Sir:
Searching the Window for a Flint, I found
This Paper, thus seal'd vp, and I am sure
It did not lye there when I went to Bed.

Giues him the Letter.

  Brut. Get you to Bed againe, it is not day:
Is not to morrow (Boy) the first of March?
  Luc. I know not, Sir

   Brut. Looke in the Calender, and bring me word

   Luc. I will, Sir.
Enter.

  Brut. The exhalations, whizzing in the ayre,
Giue so much light, that I may reade by them.

Opens the Letter, and reades.

Brutus thou sleep'st; awake, and see thy selfe:
Shall Rome, &c. speake, strike, redresse.
Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake.
Such instigations haue beene often dropt,
Where I haue tooke them vp:
Shall Rome, &c. Thus must I piece it out:
Shall Rome stand vnder one mans awe? What Rome?
My Ancestors did from the streetes of Rome
The Tarquin driue, when he was call'd a King.
Speake, strike, redresse. Am I entreated
To speake, and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise,
If the redresse will follow, thou receiuest
Thy full Petition at the hand of Brutus.
Enter Lucius.

  Luc. Sir, March is wasted fifteene dayes.

Knocke within.

  Brut. 'Tis good. Go to the Gate, some body knocks:
Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar,
I haue not slept.
Betweene the acting of a dreadfull thing,
And the first motion, all the Interim is
Like a Phantasma, or a hideous Dreame:
The Genius, and the mortall Instruments
Are then in councell; and the state of a man,
Like to a little Kingdome, suffers then
The nature of an Insurrection.
Enter Lucius.

  Luc. Sir, 'tis your Brother Cassius at the Doore,
Who doth desire to see you

   Brut. Is he alone?
  Luc. No, Sir, there are moe with him

   Brut. Doe you know them?
  Luc. No, Sir, their Hats are pluckt about their Eares,
And halfe their Faces buried in their Cloakes,
That by no meanes I may discouer them,
By any marke of fauour

   Brut. Let 'em enter:
They are the Faction. O Conspiracie,
Sham'st thou to shew thy dang'rous Brow by Night,
When euills are most free? O then, by day
Where wilt thou finde a Cauerne darke enough,
To maske thy monstrous Visage? Seek none Conspiracie,
Hide it in Smiles, and Affabilitie:
For if thou path thy natiue semblance on,
Not Erebus it selfe were dimme enough,
To hide thee from preuention.
Enter the Conspirators, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Cinna, Metellus,
and
Trebonius.

  Cass. I thinke we are too bold vpon your Rest:
Good morrow Brutus, doe we trouble you?
  Brut. I haue beene vp this howre, awake all Night:
Know I these men, that come along with you?
  Cass. Yes, euery man of them; and no man here
But honors you: and euery one doth wish,
You had but that opinion of your selfe,
Which euery Noble Roman beares of you.
This is Trebonius

   Brut. He is welcome hither

   Cass. This, Decius Brutus

   Brut. He is welcome too

   Cass. This, Caska; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus
Cymber

   Brut. They are all welcome.
What watchfull Cares doe interpose themselues
Betwixt your Eyes, and Night?
  Cass. Shall I entreat a word?

They whisper.

  Decius. Here lyes the East: doth not the Day breake
heere?
  Cask. No

   Cin. O pardon, Sir, it doth; and yon grey Lines,
That fret the Clouds, are Messengers of Day

   Cask. You shall confesse, that you are both deceiu'd:
Heere, as I point my Sword, the Sunne arises,
Which is a great way growing on the South,
Weighing the youthfull Season of the yeare.
Some two moneths hence, vp higher toward the North
He first presents his fire, and the high East
Stands as the Capitoll, directly heere

   Bru. Giue me your hands all ouer, one by one

   Cas. And let vs sweare our Resolution

   Brut. No, not an Oath: if not the Face of men,
The sufferance of our Soules, the times Abuse;
If these be Motiues weake, breake off betimes,
And euery man hence, to his idle bed:
So let high-sighted-Tyranny range on,
Till each man drop by Lottery. But if these
(As I am sure they do) beare fire enough
To kindle Cowards, and to steele with valour
The melting Spirits of women. Then Countrymen,
What neede we any spurre, but our owne cause
To pricke vs to redresse? What other Bond,
Then secret Romans, that haue spoke the word,
And will not palter? And what other Oath,
Then Honesty to Honesty ingag'd,
That this shall be, or we will fall for it.
Sweare Priests and Cowards, and men Cautelous
Old feeble Carrions, and such suffering Soules
That welcome wrongs: Vnto bad causes, sweare
Such Creatures as men doubt; but do not staine
The euen vertue of our Enterprize,
Nor th' insuppressiue Mettle of our Spirits,
To thinke, that or our Cause, or our Performance
Did neede an Oath. When euery drop of blood
That euery Roman beares, and Nobly beares
Is guilty of a seuerall Bastardie,
If he do breake the smallest Particle
Of any promise that hath past from him

   Cas. But what of Cicero? Shall we sound him?
I thinke he will stand very strong with vs

   Cask. Let vs not leaue him out

   Cyn. No, by no meanes

   Metel. O let vs haue him, for his Siluer haires
Will purchase vs a good opinion:
And buy mens voyces, to commend our deeds:
It shall be sayd, his iudgement rul'd our hands,
Our youths, and wildenesse, shall no whit appeare,
But all be buried in his Grauity

   Bru. O name him not; let vs not breake with him,
For he will neuer follow any thing
That other men begin

   Cas. Then leaue him out

   Cask. Indeed, he is not fit

   Decius. Shall no man else be toucht, but onely Caesar?
  Cas. Decius well vrg'd: I thinke it is not meet,
Marke Antony, so well belou'd of Caesar,
Should out-liue Caesar, we shall finde of him
A shrew'd Contriuer. And you know, his meanes
If he improue them, may well stretch so farre
As to annoy vs all: which to preuent,
Let Antony and Caesar fall together

   Bru. Our course will seeme too bloody, Caius Cassius,
To cut the Head off, and then hacke the Limbes:
Like Wrath in death, and Enuy afterwards:
For Antony, is but a Limbe of Caesar.
Let's be Sacrificers, but not Butchers Caius:
We all stand vp against the spirit of Caesar,
And in the Spirit of men, there is no blood:
O that we then could come by Caesars Spirit,
And not dismember Caesar! But (alas)
Caesar must bleed for it. And gentle Friends,
Let's kill him Boldly, but not Wrathfully:
Let's carue him, as a Dish fit for the Gods,
Not hew him as a Carkasse fit for Hounds:
And let our Hearts, as subtle Masters do,
Stirre vp their Seruants to an acte of Rage,
And after seeme to chide 'em. This shall make
Our purpose Necessary, and not Enuious.
Which so appearing to the common eyes,
We shall be call'd Purgers, not Murderers.
And for Marke Antony, thinke not of him:
For he can do no more then Caesars Arme,
When Caesars head is off

   Cas. Yet I feare him,
For in the ingrafted loue he beares to Caesar

   Bru. Alas, good Cassius, do not thinke of him:
If he loue Caesar, all that he can do
Is to himselfe; take thought, and dye for Caesar,
And that were much he should: for he is giuen
To sports, to wildenesse, and much company

   Treb. There is no feare in him; let him not dye,
For he will liue, and laugh at this heereafter.

Clocke strikes.

  Bru. Peace, count the Clocke

   Cas. The Clocke hath stricken three

   Treb. 'Tis time to part

   Cass. But it is doubtfull yet,
Whether Caesar will come forth to day, or no:
For he is Superstitious growne of late,
Quite from the maine Opinion he held once,
Of Fantasie, of Dreames, and Ceremonies:
It may be, these apparant Prodigies,
The vnaccustom'd Terror of this night,
And the perswasion of his Augurers,
May hold him from the Capitoll to day

   Decius. Neuer feare that: If he be so resolu'd,
I can ore-sway him: For he loues to heare,
That Vnicornes may be betray'd with Trees,
And Beares with Glasses, Elephants with Holes,
Lyons with Toyles, and men with Flatterers.
But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers,
He sayes, he does; being then most flattered.
Let me worke:
For I can giue his humour the true bent;
And I will bring him to the Capitoll

   Cas. Nay, we will all of vs, be there to fetch him

   Bru. By the eight houre, is that the vttermost?
  Cin. Be that the vttermost, and faile not then

   Met. Caius Ligarius doth beare Caesar hard,
Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey;
I wonder none of you haue thought of him

   Bru. Now good Metellus go along by him:
He loues me well, and I haue giuen him Reasons,
Send him but hither, and Ile fashion him

   Cas. The morning comes vpon's:
Wee'l leaue you Brutus,
And Friends disperse your selues; but all remember
What you haue said, and shew your selues true Romans

   Bru. Good Gentlemen, looke fresh and merrily,
Let not our lookes put on our purposes,
But beare it as our Roman Actors do,
With vntyr'd Spirits, and formall Constancie,
And so good morrow to you euery one.

Exeunt.

Manet Brutus.

Boy: Lucius: Fast asleepe? It is no matter,
Enioy the hony-heauy-Dew of Slumber:
Thou hast no Figures, nor no Fantasies,
Which busie care drawes, in the braines of men;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.
Enter Portia.

  Por. Brutus, my Lord

   Bru. Portia: What meane you? wherfore rise you now?
It is not for your health, thus to commit
Your weake condition, to the raw cold morning

   Por. Nor for yours neither. Y'haue vngently Brutus
Stole from my bed: and yesternight at Supper
You sodainly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing, and sighing, with your armes acrosse
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd vpon me, with vngentle lookes.
I vrg'd you further, then you scratch'd your head,
And too impatiently stampt with your foote:
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
But with an angry wafter of your hand
Gaue signe for me to leaue you: So I did,
Fearing to strengthen that impatience
Which seem'd too much inkindled; and withall,
Hoping it was but an effect of Humor,
Which sometime hath his houre with euery man.
It will not let you eate, nor talke, nor sleepe;
And could it worke so much vpon your shape,
As it hath much preuayl'd on your Condition,
I should not know you Brutus. Deare my Lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of greefe

   Bru. I am not well in health, and that is all

   Por. Brutus is wise, and were he not in health,
He would embrace the meanes to come by it

   Bru. Why so I do: good Portia go to bed

   Por. Is Brutus sicke? And is it Physicall
To walke vnbraced, and sucke vp the humours
Of the danke Morning? What, is Brutus sicke?
And will he steale out of his wholsome bed
To dare the vile contagion of the Night?
And tempt the Rhewmy, and vnpurged Ayre,
To adde vnto his sicknesse? No my Brutus,
You haue some sicke Offence within your minde,
Which by the Right and Vertue of my place
I ought to know of: And vpon my knees,
I charme you, by my once commended Beauty,
By all your vowes of Loue, and that great Vow
Which did incorporate and make vs one,
That you vnfold to me, your selfe; your halfe
Why you are heauy: and what men to night
Haue had resort to you: for heere haue beene
Some sixe or seuen, who did hide their faces
Euen from darknesse

   Bru. Kneele not gentle Portia

   Por. I should not neede, if you were gentle Brutus.
Within the Bond of Marriage, tell me Brutus,
Is it excepted, I should know no Secrets
That appertaine to you? Am I your Selfe,
But as it were in sort, or limitation?
To keepe with you at Meales, comfort your Bed,
And talke to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the Suburbs
Of your good pleasure? If it be no more,
Portia is Brutus Harlot, not his Wife

   Bru. You are my true and honourable Wife,
As deere to me, as are the ruddy droppes
That visit my sad heart

   Por. If this were true, then should I know this secret.
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman that Lord Brutus tooke to Wife:
I graunt I am a Woman; but withall,
A Woman well reputed: Cato's Daughter.
Thinke you, I am no stronger then my Sex
Being so Father'd, and so Husbanded?
Tell me your Counsels, I will not disclose 'em:
I haue made strong proofe of my Constancie,
Giuing my selfe a voluntary wound
Heere, in the Thigh: Can I beare that with patience,
And not my Husbands Secrets?
  Bru. O ye Gods!
Render me worthy of this Noble Wife.

Knocke.

Harke, harke, one knockes: Portia go in a while,
And by and by thy bosome shall partake
The secrets of my Heart.
All my engagements, I will construe to thee,
All the Charractery of my sad browes:
Leaue me with hast.

Exit Portia.

Enter Lucius and Ligarius.

Lucius, who's that knockes

   Luc. Heere is a sicke man that would speak with you

   Bru. Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of.
Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius, how?
  Cai. Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue

   Bru. O what a time haue you chose out braue Caius
To weare a Kerchiefe? Would you were not sicke

   Cai. I am not sicke, if Brutus haue in hand
Any exploit worthy the name of Honor

   Bru. Such an exploit haue I in hand Ligarius,
Had you a healthfull eare to heare of it

   Cai. By all the Gods that Romans bow before,
I heere discard my sicknesse. Soule of Rome,
Braue Sonne, deriu'd from Honourable Loines,
Thou like an Exorcist, hast coniur'd vp
My mortified Spirit. Now bid me runne,
And I will striue with things impossible,
Yea get the better of them. What's to do?
  Bru. A peece of worke,
That will make sicke men whole

   Cai. But are not some whole, that we must make sicke?
  Bru. That must we also. What it is my Caius,
I shall vnfold to thee, as we are going,
To whom it must be done

   Cai. Set on your foote,
And with a heart new-fir'd, I follow you,
To do I know not what: but it sufficeth
That Brutus leads me on.

Thunder

  Bru. Follow me then.

Exeunt.

Thunder & Lightning

Enter Iulius Caesar in his Night-gowne.

  Caesar. Nor Heauen, nor Earth,
Haue beene at peace to night:
Thrice hath Calphurnia, in her sleepe cryed out,
Helpe, ho: They murther Caesar. Who's within?
Enter a Seruant.

  Ser. My Lord

   Caes Go bid the Priests do present Sacrifice,
And bring me their opinions of Successe

   Ser. I will my Lord.

Exit

Enter Calphurnia.

  Cal. What mean you Caesar? Think you to walk forth?
You shall not stirre out of your house to day

   Caes Caesar shall forth; the things that threaten'd me,
Ne're look'd but on my backe: When they shall see
The face of Caesar, they are vanished

   Calp. Caesar, I neuer stood on Ceremonies,
Yet now they fright me: There is one within,
Besides the things that we haue heard and seene,
Recounts most horrid sights seene by the Watch.
A Lionnesse hath whelped in the streets,
And Graues haue yawn'd, and yeelded vp their dead;
Fierce fiery Warriours fight vpon the Clouds
In Rankes and Squadrons, and right forme of Warre
Which drizel'd blood vpon the Capitoll:
The noise of Battell hurtled in the Ayre:
Horsses do neigh, and dying men did grone,
And Ghosts did shrieke and squeale about the streets.
O Caesar, these things are beyond all vse,
And I do feare them

   Caes What can be auoyded
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty Gods?
Yet Caesar shall go forth: for these Predictions
Are to the world in generall, as to Caesar

   Calp. When Beggers dye, there are no Comets seen,
The Heauens themselues blaze forth the death of Princes
  Caes Cowards dye many times before their deaths,
The valiant neuer taste of death but once:
Of all the Wonders that I yet haue heard,
It seemes to me most strange that men should feare,
Seeing that death, a necessary end
Will come, when it will come.
Enter a Seruant.

What say the Augurers?
  Ser. They would not haue you to stirre forth to day.
Plucking the intrailes of an Offering forth,
They could not finde a heart within the beast

   Caes The Gods do this in shame of Cowardice:
Caesar should be a Beast without a heart
If he should stay at home to day for feare:
No Caesar shall not; Danger knowes full well
That Caesar is more dangerous then he.
We heare two Lyons litter'd in one day,
And I the elder and more terrible,
And Caesar shall go foorth

   Calp. Alas my Lord,
Your wisedome is consum'd in confidence:
Do not go forth to day: Call it my feare,
That keepes you in the house, and not your owne.
Wee'l send Mark Antony to the Senate house,
And he shall say, you are not well to day:
Let me vpon my knee, preuaile in this

   Caes Mark Antony shall say I am not well,
And for thy humor, I will stay at home.
Enter Decius.

Heere's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so

   Deci. Caesar, all haile: Good morrow worthy Caesar,
I come to fetch you to the Senate house

   Caes And you are come in very happy time,
To beare my greeting to the Senators,
And tell them that I will not come to day:
Cannot, is false: and that I dare not, falser:
I will not come to day, tell them so Decius

   Calp. Say he is sicke

   Caes Shall Caesar send a Lye?
Haue I in Conquest stretcht mine Arme so farre,
To be afear'd to tell Gray-beards the truth:
Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come

   Deci. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laught at when I tell them so

   Caes The cause is in my Will, I will not come,
That is enough to satisfie the Senate.
But for your priuate satisfaction,
Because I loue you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia heere my wife, stayes me at home:
She dreampt to night, she saw my Statue,
Which like a Fountaine, with an hundred spouts
Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, & did bathe their hands in it:
And these does she apply, for warnings and portents,
And euils imminent; and on her knee
Hath begg'd, that I will stay at home to day

   Deci. This Dreame is all amisse interpreted,
It was a vision, faire and fortunate:
Your Statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies, that from you great Rome shall sucke
Reuiuing blood, and that great men shall presse
For Tinctures, Staines, Reliques, and Cognisance.
This by Calphurnia's Dreame is signified

   Caes And this way haue you well expounded it

   Deci. I haue, when you haue heard what I can say:
And know it now, the Senate haue concluded
To giue this day, a Crowne to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word you will not come,
Their mindes may change. Besides, it were a mocke
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,
Breake vp the Senate, till another time:
When Caesars wife shall meete with better Dreames.
If Caesar hide himselfe, shall they not whisper
Loe Caesar is affraid?
Pardon me Caesar, for my deere deere loue
To your proceeding, bids me tell you this:
And reason to my loue is liable

   Caes How foolish do your fears seeme now Calphurnia?
I am ashamed I did yeeld to them.
Giue me my Robe, for I will go.
Enter Brutus, Ligarius, Metellus, Caska, Trebonius, Cynna, and
Publius.

And looke where Publius is come to fetch me

   Pub. Good morrow Caesar

   Caes Welcome Publius.
What Brutus, are you stirr'd so earely too?
Good morrow Caska: Caius Ligarius,
Caesar was ne're so much your enemy,
As that same Ague which hath made you leane.
What is't a Clocke?
  Bru. Caesar, 'tis strucken eight

   Caes I thanke you for your paines and curtesie.
Enter Antony.

See, Antony that Reuels long a-nights
Is notwithstanding vp. Good morrow Antony

   Ant. So to most Noble Caesar

   Caes Bid them prepare within:
I am too blame to be thus waited for.
Now Cynna, now Metellus: what Trebonius,
I haue an houres talke in store for you:
Remember that you call on me to day:
Be neere me, that I may remember you

   Treb. Caesar I will: and so neere will I be,
That your best Friends shall wish I had beene further

   Caes Good Friends go in, and taste some wine with me.
And we (like Friends) will straight way go together

   Bru. That euery like is not the same, O Caesar,
The heart of Brutus earnes to thinke vpon.

Exeunt.

Enter Artemidorus.

Caesar, beware of Brutus, take heede of Cassius; come not
neere Caska, haue an eye to Cynna, trust not Trebonius, marke
well Metellus Cymber, Decius Brutus loues thee not: Thou
hast wrong'd Caius Ligarius. There is but one minde in all
these men, and it is bent against Caesar: If thou beest not
Immortall,
looke about you: Security giues way to Conspiracie.
The mighty Gods defend thee.
Thy Louer, Artemidorus.
Heere will I stand, till Caesar passe along,
And as a Sutor will I giue him this:
My heart laments, that Vertue cannot liue
Out of the teeth of Emulation.
If thou reade this, O Caesar, thou mayest liue;
If not, the Fates with Traitors do contriue.
Enter.

Enter Portia and Lucius.

  Por. I prythee Boy, run to the Senate-house,
Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone.
Why doest thou stay?
  Luc. To know my errand Madam

   Por. I would haue had thee there and heere agen
Ere I can tell thee what thou should'st do there:
O Constancie, be strong vpon my side,
Set a huge Mountaine 'tweene my Heart and Tongue:
I haue a mans minde, but a womans might:
How hard it is for women to keepe counsell.
Art thou heere yet?
  Luc. Madam, what should I do?
Run to the Capitoll, and nothing else?
And so returne to you, and nothing else?
  Por. Yes, bring me word Boy, if thy Lord look well,
For he went sickly forth: and take good note
What Caesar doth, what Sutors presse to him.
Hearke Boy, what noyse is that?
  Luc. I heare none Madam

   Por. Prythee listen well:
I heard a bussling Rumor like a Fray,
And the winde brings it from the Capitoll

   Luc. Sooth Madam, I heare nothing.
Enter the Soothsayer.

  Por. Come hither Fellow, which way hast thou bin?
  Sooth. At mine owne house, good Lady

   Por. What is't a clocke?
  Sooth. About the ninth houre Lady

   Por. Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitoll?
  Sooth. Madam not yet, I go to take my stand,
To see him passe on to the Capitoll

   Por. Thou hast some suite to Caesar, hast thou not?
  Sooth. That I haue Lady, if it will please Caesar
To be so good to Caesar, as to heare me:
I shall beseech him to befriend himselfe

   Por. Why know'st thou any harme's intended towards
him?
  Sooth. None that I know will be,
Much that I feare may chance:
Good morrow to you: heere the street is narrow:
The throng that followes Caesar at the heeles,
Of Senators, of Praetors, common Sutors,
Will crowd a feeble man (almost) to death:
Ile get me to a place more voyd, and there
Speake to great Caesar as he comes along.

Exit

  Por. I must go in:
Aye me! How weake a thing
The heart of woman is? O Brutus,
The Heauens speede thee in thine enterprize.
Sure the Boy heard me: Brutus hath a suite
That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint:
Run Lucius, and commend me to my Lord,
Say I am merry; Come to me againe,
And bring me word what he doth say to thee.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Flourish

Enter Caesar, Brutus, Cassius, Caska, Decius, Metellus, Trebonius,
Cynna,
Antony, Lepidus, Artimedorus, Publius, and the Soothsayer.

  Caes The Ides of March are come

   Sooth. I Caesar, but not gone

   Art. Haile Caesar: Read this Scedule

   Deci. Trebonius doth desire you to ore-read
(At your best leysure) this his humble suite

   Art. O Caesar, reade mine first: for mine's a suite
That touches Caesar neerer. Read it great Caesar

   Caes What touches vs our selfe, shall be last seru'd

   Art. Delay not Caesar, read it instantly

   Caes What, is the fellow mad?
  Pub. Sirra, giue place

   Cassi. What, vrge you your Petitions in the street?
Come to the Capitoll

   Popil. I wish your enterprize to day may thriue

   Cassi. What enterprize Popillius?
  Popil. Fare you well

   Bru. What said Popillius Lena?
  Cassi. He wisht to day our enterprize might thriue:
I feare our purpose is discouered

   Bru. Looke how he makes to Caesar: marke him

   Cassi. Caska be sodaine, for we feare preuention.
Brutus what shall be done? If this be knowne,
Cassius or Caesar neuer shall turne backe,
For I will slay my selfe

   Bru. Cassius be constant:
Popillius Lena speakes not of our purposes,
For looke he smiles, and Caesar doth not change

   Cassi. Trebonius knowes his time: for look you Brutus
He drawes Mark Antony out of the way

   Deci. Where is Metellus Cimber, let him go,
And presently preferre his suite to Caesar

   Bru. He is addrest: presse neere, and second him

   Cin. Caska, you are the first that reares your hand

   Caes Are we all ready? What is now amisse,
That Caesar and his Senate must redresse?
  Metel. Most high, most mighty, and most puisant Caesar
Metellus Cymber throwes before thy Seate
An humble heart

   Caes I must preuent thee Cymber:
These couchings, and these lowly courtesies
Might fire the blood of ordinary men,
And turne pre-Ordinance, and first Decree
Into the lane of Children. Be not fond,
To thinke that Caesar beares such Rebell blood
That will be thaw'd from the true quality
With that which melteth Fooles, I meane sweet words,
Low-crooked-curtsies, and base Spaniell fawning:
Thy Brother by decree is banished:
If thou doest bend, and pray, and fawne for him,
I spurne thee like a Curre out of my way:
Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause
Will he be satisfied

   Metel. Is there no voyce more worthy then my owne,
To sound more sweetly in great Caesars eare,
For the repealing of my banish'd Brother?
  Bru. I kisse thy hand, but not in flattery Caesar:
Desiring thee, that Publius Cymber may
Haue an immediate freedome of repeale

   Caes What Brutus?
  Cassi. Pardon Caesar: Caesar pardon:
As lowe as to thy foote doth Cassius fall,
To begge infranchisement for Publius Cymber

   Caes I could be well mou'd, if I were as you,
If I could pray to mooue, Prayers would mooue me:
But I am constant as the Northerne Starre,
Of whose true fixt, and resting quality,
There is no fellow in the Firmament.
The Skies are painted with vnnumbred sparkes,
They are all Fire, and euery one doth shine:
But, there's but one in all doth hold his place.
So, in the World; 'Tis furnish'd well with Men,
And Men are Flesh and Blood, and apprehensiue;
Yet in the number, I do know but One
That vnassayleable holds on his Ranke,
Vnshak'd of Motion: and that I am he,
Let me a little shew it, euen in this:
That I was constant Cymber should be banish'd,
And constant do remaine to keepe him so

   Cinna. O Caesar

   Caes Hence: Wilt thou lift vp Olympus?
  Decius. Great Caesar

   Caes Doth not Brutus bootlesse kneele?
  Cask. Speake hands for me.

They stab Caesar.

  Caes Et Tu Brute? - Then fall Caesar.

Dyes

  Cin. Liberty, Freedome; Tyranny is dead,
Run hence, proclaime, cry it about the Streets

   Cassi. Some to the common Pulpits, and cry out
Liberty, Freedome, and Enfranchisement

   Bru. People and Senators, be not affrighted:
Fly not, stand still: Ambitions debt is paid

   Cask. Go to the Pulpit Brutus

   Dec. And Cassius too

   Bru. Where's Publius?
  Cin. Heere, quite confounded with this mutiny

   Met. Stand fast together, least some Friend of Caesars
Should chance-
  Bru. Talke not of standing. Publius good cheere,
There is no harme intended to your person,
Nor to no Roman else: so tell them Publius

   Cassi. And leaue vs Publius, least that the people
Rushing on vs, should do your Age some mischiefe

   Bru. Do so, and let no man abide this deede,
But we the Doers.
Enter Trebonius

   Cassi. Where is Antony?
  Treb. Fled to his House amaz'd:
Men, Wiues, and Children, stare, cry out, and run,
As it were Doomesday

   Bru. Fates, we will know your pleasures:
That we shall dye we know, 'tis but the time
And drawing dayes out, that men stand vpon

   Cask. Why he that cuts off twenty yeares of life,
Cuts off so many yeares of fearing death

   Bru. Grant that, and then is Death a Benefit:
So are we Caesars Friends, that haue abridg'd
His time of fearing death. Stoope Romans, stoope,
And let vs bathe our hands in Caesars blood
Vp to the Elbowes, and besmeare our Swords:
Then walke we forth, euen to the Market place,
And wauing our red Weapons o're our heads,
Let's all cry Peace, Freedome, and Liberty

   Cassi. Stoop then, and wash. How many Ages hence
Shall this our lofty Scene be acted ouer,
In State vnborne, and Accents yet vnknowne?
  Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport,
That now on Pompeyes Basis lye along,
No worthier then the dust?
  Cassi. So oft as that shall be,
So often shall the knot of vs be call'd,
The Men that gaue their Country liberty

   Dec. What, shall we forth?
  Cassi. I, euery man away.
Brutus shall leade, and we will grace his heeles
With the most boldest, and best hearts of Rome.
Enter a Seruant.

  Bru. Soft, who comes heere? A friend of Antonies

   Ser. Thus Brutus did my Master bid me kneele;
Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall downe,
And being prostrate, thus he bad me say:
Brutus is Noble, Wise, Valiant, and Honest;
Caesar was Mighty, Bold, Royall, and Louing:
Say, I loue Brutus, and I honour him;
Say, I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him, and lou'd him.
If Brutus will vouchsafe, that Antony
May safely come to him, and be resolu'd
How Caesar hath deseru'd to lye in death,
Mark Antony, shall not loue Caesar dead
So well as Brutus liuing; but will follow
The Fortunes and Affayres of Noble Brutus,
Thorough the hazards of this vntrod State,
With all true Faith. So sayes my Master Antony

   Bru. Thy Master is a Wise and Valiant Romane,
I neuer thought him worse:
Tell him, so please him come vnto this place
He shall be satisfied: and by my Honor
Depart vntouch'd

   Ser. Ile fetch him presently.

Exit Seruant.

  Bru. I know that we shall haue him well to Friend

   Cassi. I wish we may: But yet haue I a minde
That feares him much: and my misgiuing still
Falles shrewdly to the purpose.
Enter Antony.

  Bru. But heere comes Antony:
Welcome Mark Antony

   Ant. O mighty Caesar! Dost thou lye so lowe?
Are all thy Conquests, Glories, Triumphes, Spoiles,
Shrunke to this little Measure? Fare thee well.
I know not Gentlemen what you intend,
Who else must be let blood, who else is ranke:
If I my selfe, there is no houre so fit
As Caesars deaths houre; nor no Instrument
Of halfe that worth, as those your Swords; made rich
With the most Noble blood of all this World.
I do beseech yee, if you beare me hard,
Now, whil'st your purpled hands do reeke and smoake,
Fulfill your pleasure. Liue a thousand yeeres,
I shall not finde my selfe so apt to dye.
No place will please me so, no meane of death,
As heere by Caesar, and by you cut off,
The Choice and Master Spirits of this Age

   Bru. O Antony! Begge not your death of vs:
Though now we must appeare bloody and cruell,
As by our hands, and this our present Acte
You see we do: Yet see you but our hands,
And this, the bleeding businesse they haue done:
Our hearts you see not, they are pittifull:
And pitty to the generall wrong of Rome,
As fire driues out fire, so pitty, pitty
Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part,
To you, our Swords haue leaden points Marke Antony:
Our Armes in strength of malice, and our Hearts
Of Brothers temper, do receiue you in,
With all kinde loue, good thoughts, and reuerence

   Cassi. Your voyce shall be as strong as any mans,
In the disposing of new Dignities

   Bru. Onely be patient, till we haue appeas'd
The Multitude, beside themselues with feare,
And then, we will deliuer you the cause,
Why I, that did loue Caesar when I strooke him,
Haue thus proceeded

   Ant. I doubt not of your Wisedome:
Let each man render me his bloody hand.
First Marcus Brutus will I shake with you;
Next Caius Cassius do I take your hand;
Now Decius Brutus yours; now yours Metellus;
Yours Cinna; and my valiant Caska, yours;
Though last, not least in loue, yours good Trebonius.
Gentlemen all: Alas, what shall I say,
My credit now stands on such slippery ground,
That one of two bad wayes you must conceit me,
Either a Coward, or a Flatterer.
That I did loue thee Caesar, O 'tis true:
If then thy Spirit looke vpon vs now,
Shall it not greeue thee deerer then thy death,
To see thy Antony making his peace,
Shaking the bloody fingers of thy Foes?
Most Noble, in the presence of thy Coarse,
Had I as many eyes, as thou hast wounds,
Weeping as fast as they streame forth thy blood,
It would become me better, then to close
In tearmes of Friendship with thine enemies.
Pardon me Iulius, heere was't thou bay'd braue Hart,
Heere did'st thou fall, and heere thy Hunters stand
Sign'd in thy Spoyle, and Crimson'd in thy Lethee.
O World! thou wast the Forrest to this Hart,
And this indeed, O World, the Hart of thee.
How like a Deere, stroken by many Princes,
Dost thou heere lye?
  Cassi. Mark Antony

   Ant. Pardon me Caius Cassius:
The Enemies of Caesar, shall say this:
Then, in a Friend, it is cold Modestie

   Cassi. I blame you not for praising Caesar so.
But what compact meane you to haue with vs?
Will you be prick'd in number of our Friends,
Or shall we on, and not depend on you?
  Ant. Therefore I tooke your hands, but was indeed
Sway'd from the point, by looking downe on Caesar.
Friends am I with you all, and loue you all,
Vpon this hope, that you shall giue me Reasons,
Why, and wherein, Caesar was dangerous

   Bru. Or else were this a sauage Spectacle:
Our Reasons are so full of good regard,
That were you Antony, the Sonne of Caesar,
You should be satisfied

   Ant. That's all I seeke,
And am moreouer sutor, that I may
Produce his body to the Market-place,
And in the Pulpit as becomes a Friend,
Speake in the Order of his Funerall

   Bru. You shall Marke Antony

   Cassi. Brutus, a word with you:
You know not what you do; Do not consent
That Antony speake in his Funerall:
Know you how much the people may be mou'd
By that which he will vtter

   Bru. By your pardon:
I will my selfe into the Pulpit first,
And shew the reason of our Caesars death.
What Antony shall speake, I will protest
He speakes by leaue, and by permission:
And that we are contented Caesar shall
Haue all true Rites, and lawfull Ceremonies,
It shall aduantage more, then do vs wrong

   Cassi. I know not what may fall, I like it not

   Bru. Mark Antony, heere take you Caesars body:
You shall not in your Funerall speech blame vs,
But speake all good you can deuise of Caesar,
And say you doo't by our permission:
Else shall you not haue any hand at all
About his Funerall. And you shall speake
In the same Pulpit whereto I am going,
After my speech is ended

   Ant. Be it so:
I do desire no more

   Bru. Prepare the body then, and follow vs.

Exeunt.

Manet Antony.

O pardon me, thou bleeding peece of Earth:
That I am meeke and gentle with these Butchers.
Thou art the Ruines of the Noblest man
That euer liued in the Tide of Times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly Blood.
Ouer thy wounds, now do I Prophesie,
(Which like dumbe mouthes do ope their Ruby lips,
To begge the voyce and vtterance of my Tongue)
A Curse shall light vpon the limbes of men;
Domesticke Fury, and fierce Ciuill strife,
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
Blood and destruction shall be so in vse,
And dreadfull Obiects so familiar,
That Mothers shall but smile, when they behold
Their Infants quartered with the hands of Warre:
All pitty choak'd with custome of fell deeds,
And Caesars Spirit ranging for Reuenge,
With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell,
Shall in these Confines, with a Monarkes voyce,
Cry hauocke, and let slip the Dogges of Warre,
That this foule deede, shall smell aboue the earth
With Carrion men, groaning for Buriall.
Enter Octauio's Seruant.

You serue Octauius Caesar, do you not?
  Ser. I do Marke Antony

   Ant. Caesar did write for him to come to Rome

   Ser. He did receiue his Letters, and is comming,
And bid me say to you by word of mouth-
O Caesar!
  Ant. Thy heart is bigge: get thee a-part and weepe:
Passion I see is catching from mine eyes,
Seeing those Beads of sorrow stand in thine,
Began to water. Is thy Master comming?
  Ser. He lies to night within seuen Leagues of Rome

   Ant. Post backe with speede,
And tell him what hath chanc'd:
Heere is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome,
No Rome of safety for Octauius yet,
Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet stay a-while,
Thou shalt not backe, till I haue borne this course
Into the Market place: There shall I try
In my Oration, how the People take
The cruell issue of these bloody men,
According to the which, thou shalt discourse
To yong Octauius, of the state of things.
Lend me your hand.

Exeunt.

Enter Brutus and goes into the Pulpit, and Cassius, with the
Plebeians.

  Ple. We will be satisfied: let vs be satisfied

   Bru. Then follow me, and giue me Audience friends.
Cassius go you into the other streete,
And part the Numbers:
Those that will heare me speake, let 'em stay heere;
Those that will follow Cassius, go with him,
And publike Reasons shall be rendred
Of Caesars death

   1.Ple. I will heare Brutus speake

   2. I will heare Cassius, and compare their Reasons,
When seuerally we heare them rendred

   3. The Noble Brutus is ascended: Silence

   Bru. Be patient till the last.
Romans, Countrey-men, and Louers, heare mee for my
cause, and be silent, that you may heare. Beleeue me for
mine Honor, and haue respect to mine Honor, that you
may beleeue. Censure me in your Wisedom, and awake
your Senses, that you may the better Iudge. If there bee
any in this Assembly, any deere Friend of Caesars, to him
I say, that Brutus loue to Caesar, was no lesse then his. If
then, that Friend demand, why Brutus rose against Caesar,
this is my answer: Not that I lou'd Caesar lesse, but
that I lou'd Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were liuing,
and dye all Slaues; then that Caesar were dead, to
liue all Free-men? As Caesar lou'd mee, I weepe for him;
as he was Fortunate, I reioyce at it; as he was Valiant, I
honour him: But, as he was Ambitious, I slew him. There
is Teares, for his Loue: Ioy, for his Fortune: Honor, for
his Valour: and Death, for his Ambition. Who is heere
so base, that would be a Bondman? If any, speak, for him
haue I offended. Who is heere so rude, that would not
be a Roman? If any, speak, for him haue I offended. Who
is heere so vile, that will not loue his Countrey? If any,
speake, for him haue I offended. I pause for a Reply

   All. None Brutus, none

   Brutus. Then none haue I offended. I haue done no
more to Caesar, then you shall do to Brutus. The Question
of his death, is inroll'd in the Capitoll: his Glory not
extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforc'd,
for which he suffered death.
Enter Mark Antony, with Caesars body.

Heere comes his Body, mourn'd by Marke Antony, who
though he had no hand in his death, shall receiue the benefit
of his dying, a place in the Co[m]monwealth, as which
of you shall not. With this I depart, that as I slewe my
best Louer for the good of Rome, I haue the same Dagger
for my selfe, when it shall please my Country to need
my death

   All. Liue Brutus, liue, liue

   1. Bring him with Triumph home vnto his house

   2. Giue him a Statue with his Ancestors

   3. Let him be Caesar

   4. Caesars better parts,
Shall be Crown'd in Brutus

   1. Wee'l bring him to his House,
With Showts and Clamors

   Bru. My Country-men

   2. Peace, silence, Brutus speakes

   1. Peace ho

   Bru. Good Countrymen, let me depart alone,
And (for my sake) stay heere with Antony:
Do grace to Caesars Corpes, and grace his Speech
Tending to Caesars Glories, which Marke Antony
(By our permission) is allow'd to make.
I do intreat you, not a man depart,
Saue I alone, till Antony haue spoke.

Exit

  1 Stay ho, and let vs heare Mark Antony

   3 Let him go vp into the publike Chaire,
Wee'l heare him: Noble Antony go vp

   Ant. For Brutus sake, I am beholding to you

   4 What does he say of Brutus?
  3 He sayes, for Brutus sake
He findes himselfe beholding to vs all

   4 'Twere best he speake no harme of Brutus heere?
  1 This Caesar was a Tyrant

   3 Nay that's certaine:
We are blest that Rome is rid of him

   2 Peace, let vs heare what Antony can say

   Ant. You gentle Romans

   All. Peace hoe, let vs heare him

   An. Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears:
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him:
The euill that men do, liues after them,
The good is oft enterred with their bones,
So let it be with Caesar. The Noble Brutus,
Hath told you Caesar was Ambitious:
If it were so, it was a greeuous Fault,
And greeuously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Heere, vnder leaue of Brutus, and the rest
(For Brutus is an Honourable man,
So are they all; all Honourable men)
Come I to speake in Caesars Funerall.
He was my Friend, faithfull, and iust to me;
But Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious,
And Brutus is an Honourable man.
He hath brought many Captiues home to Rome,
Whose Ransomes, did the generall Coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seeme Ambitious?
When that the poore haue cry'de, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuffe,
Yet Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious:
And Brutus is an Honourable man.
You all did see, that on the Lupercall,
I thrice presented him a Kingly Crowne,
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this Ambition?
Yet Brutus sayes, he was Ambitious:
And sure he is an Honourable man.
I speake not to disprooue what Brutus spoke,
But heere I am, to speake what I do know;
You all did loue him once, not without cause,
What cause with-holds you then, to mourne for him?
O Iudgement! thou are fled to brutish Beasts,
And Men haue lost their Reason. Beare with me,
My heart is in the Coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pawse, till it come backe to me