Celia - There lay he
stretched
along, like a wounded knight.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v23 - Sha to Sta
Is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats? " or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this? -
"Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurned me such a day; another time
## p. 13230 (#28) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13230
Antonio
Shylock-
You called me dog: and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys. "
I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friend; for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemy;
Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Exact the penalty.
-
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stained me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Of usance for my moneys,
And you'll not hear me. This is kind I offer.
LAUNCELOT AND OLD GOBBO
From The Merchant of Venice'
Scene: Venice. A Street. Enter Launcelot Gobbo.
AUNCELOT Certainly, my
L
conscience will serve me to run
from this Jew, my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and
tempts me, saying to me, "Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good
Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your
legs, take the start, run away. " My conscience says, "No: take
heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo" - or as afore-
said "honest Launcelot Gobbo: do not run; scorn running with
thy heels. " Well, the most contagious fiend bids me pack: "Via! "
says the fiend; "away! " says the fiend: "'fore the heavens, rouse
up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run. " Well, my con-
science, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to
me, "My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,"
or rather an honest woman's son: for indeed my father did
something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste-
well, my conscience says, "Launcelot, budge not. " "Budge," says
the fiend; "Budge not," says my conscience. Conscience, say I,
you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be ruled by
my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who (God
bless the mark! ) is a kind of devil; and to run away from the
## p. 13231 (#29) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13231
Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence,
is the Devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very Devil incar-
nation; and in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of
hard conscience to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew.
The fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my
heels are at your commandment; I will run.
[Going out in haste.
Enter Old Gobbo, with a Basket
Gobbo - Master, young man, you, I pray you, which is the
way to master Jew's?
――――
-
Launcelot [aside] — O heavens! this is my true-begotten father,
who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me
not; I will try confusions with him.
Gobbo - Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the
way to master Jew's?
Launcelot-Turn up on your right hand at the next turning,
but at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very
next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the
Jew's house.
Gobbo - By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can
you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell
with him or no?
Launcelot - Talk you of young master Launcelot ? - [Aside. ]
Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. -[To him. ] Talk you
of young master Launcelot ?
Gobbo - No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father,
though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man; and God be
thanked, well to live.
Launcelot - Well, let his father be what 'a will, we talk of
young master Launcelot.
Gobbo - Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
Launcelot But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech
you, talk you of young master Launcelot ?
Gobbo-Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Launcelot - Ergo, master Launcelot. Talk not of master
Launcelot, father: for the young gentleman (according to fates.
and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such
branches of learning) is indeed deceased; or as you would say,
in plain terms, gone to heaven.
Gobbo - Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my
age, my very prop.
## p. 13232 (#30) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13232
Launcelot [aside]-Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a
staff or a prop? -[To him. ] Do you know me, father?
Gobbo Alack the day: I know you not, young gentleman.
But I pray you, tell me, is my boy (God rest his soul! ) alive or
dead?
Launcelot Do you not know me, father?
Gobbo - Alack, sir, I am sand-blind: I know you not.
Launcelot - Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes you might fail
of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child.
Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. [Kneels. ] Give
me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid
long; a man's son may, but in the end truth will out.
Gobbo - Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not
Launcelot, my boy.
Launcelot - Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but
give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your
son that is, your child that shall be.
Gobbo-I cannot think you are my son.
Launcelot I know not what I shall think of that; but I am
Launcelot the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is
my mother.
Gobbo Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou
be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord! wor-
shiped might he be! what a beard hast thou got: thou hast got
more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
Launcelot [rising]-It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail
grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I
have of my face when I last saw him.
Gobbo-Lord! how art thou changed! How dost thou and
thy master agree? I have brought him a present.
How agree
you now?
Launcelot - Well, well; but for mine own part, as I have set
up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some
ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a present! give him
a halter: I am famished in his service; you may tell every finger
I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me
your present to one master Bassanio, who indeed gives rare new
liveries. If I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any
ground. —O rare fortune! here comes the man; to him, father;
for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.
-
## p. 13233 (#31) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13233
Scene: Venice.
PORTIA
Duke-
Portia-
Shylock-
Portia-
Antonio-
Portia
Antonio-
Portia-
Shylock-
Portia-
Shylock-
[To Antonio]-
Venice. A Court of Justice.
I am informed throughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
Is your name Shylock?
―
Shylock is my name.
Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. —
THE QUALITY OF MERCY
From The Merchant of Venice'
I do.
You stand within his danger, do you not?
Ay, so he says.
Do you confess the bond?
Then must the Jew be merciful.
On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed,-
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway:
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,—
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
XXIII-828
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
My deeds upon my head. I crave the law;
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
## p. 13234 (#32) ###########################################
13234
SHAKESPEARE
L
Scene: Belmont. The Avenue to Portia's House.
Jessica.
ORENZO
Jessica -
Lorenzo
Jessica-
Lorenzo
Jessica-
Lorenzo
Jessica
-
LORENZO AND JESSICA
From The Merchant of Venice'
--
Enter Lorenzo and
The moon shines bright. In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise-in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
In such a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.
In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage.
In such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
I would out-night you, did no body come;
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.
Enter Stephano
Lorenzo Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Stephano - A friend.
Lorenzo
A friend? what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
Stephano-Stephano is my name: and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
In such a night,
Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
That did renew old son.
In such a night,
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift, love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.
In such a night,
Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.
## p. 13235 (#33) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13235
_
Lorenzo
Who comes with her?
Stephano- None but a holy hermit, and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet returned?
Lorenzo He is not, nor we have not heard from him. -
______
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
Enter Launcelot
Launcelot - Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
Lorenzo - Who calls?
Launcelot-Sola!
Did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lo-
renza? sola, sola!
Lorenzo-Leave hallooing, man: here.
Launcelot - Sola! where? where?
Lorenzo Here.
Launcelot - Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with
his horn full of good news: my master will be here ere morning.
[Exit.
Lorenzo-Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
And yet no matter;- why should we go in?
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air. —
[Exit Stephano.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica: look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou beholdest,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Enter Musicians
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn:
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress's ear,
And draw her home with music.
Jessica-I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
[Music.
## p. 13236 (#34) ###########################################
13236
SHAKESPEARE
Scene: The Forest of Arden.
CE
ELIA -Oh, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonder-
ful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all
whooping!
Rosalind-Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I
am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my
disposition? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of dis-
covery; I pr'ythee, tell me who is it quickly; and speak apace.
I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this con-
cealed man out of thy mouth as wine comes out of a narrow-
mouthed bottle: either too much at once, or none at all. I
pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy
tidings.
-
Celia - So you may put a man in your belly.
Rosalind - Is he of God's making? What manner of man?
Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
Celia Nay, he hath but a little beard.
Rosalind-Why, God will send more, if the man will be
thankful. Let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay
me not the knowledge of his chin.
Celia It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
heels and your heart, both in an instant.
Rosalind - Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak sad brow,
and true maid.
Celia - I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
Rosalind-Orlando ?
Orlando.
Celia-
-
ROSALIND, ORLANDO, JAQUES
From As You Like It'
-
Rosalind-Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet
and hose? What did he, when thou saw'st him? What said
he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes he here?
Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with
thee, and when shalt thou see him again?
word.
Answer me in one
Celia-You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis
a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To say ay
and no to these particulars is more than to answer in a cate-
chism.
## p. 13237 (#35) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13237
Rosalind-But doth he know that I am in this forest, and
in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he
wrestled?
Celia It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the prop-
ositions of a lover; but take a taste of my finding him, and
relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a
dropped acorn.
Rosalind-It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops
forth such fruit.
Celia - Give me audience, good madam.
Rosalind - Proceed.
Celia - There lay he stretched along, like a wounded knight.
Rosalind-Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well be-
comes the ground.
Celia Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee: it curvets un-
seasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
-
Rosalind - Oh, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
Celia - I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring'st
me out of tune.
Celia
Rosalind - Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I
must speak. Sweet, say on.
Enter Orlando and Jaques
You bring me out. - Soft! comes he not here?
Rosalind-'Tis he: slink by, and note him.
-
[Rosalind and Celia retire.
Jaques I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I
had as lief have been myself alone.
-
Orlando - And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank
you too for your society.
Jaques-Good-by, you: let's meet as little as we can.
Orlando - I do desire we may be better strangers.
Jaques — I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love-
songs in their barks.
Orlando-I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading
them ill-favoredly.
Jaques Rosalind is your love's name?
Orlando-Yes, just.
Jaques I do not like her name.
Orlando-There was no thought of pleasing you, when she
was christened.
―――
-
## p. 13238 (#36) ###########################################
13238
SHAKESPEARE
Jaques What stature is she of?
Orlando-Just as high as my heart.
Jaques-You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings?
Orlando-Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
whence you have studied your questions.
Jaques You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of Ata-
lanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail
against our mistress the world, and all our misery.
Orlando-I will chide no breather in the world but myself,
against whom I know most faults.
Jaques - The worst fault you have is to be in love.
Orlando-'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
I am weary of you.
Jaques By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found
you.
Orlando He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you
Ishall see him.
-
-
Jaques - There I shall see mine own figure.
Orlando - Which I take to be either a fool or a cypher.
Jaques I'll tarry no longer with you.
Farewell, good
Signior Love.
Orlando - I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Mon-
sieur Melancholy.
[Exit Jaques. - Rosalind and Celia come forward. ]
Rosalind [aside to Celia]-I will speak to him like a saucy
lackey, and under that habit play the knave with him. -[To him. ]
Do you hear, forester?
――――――
Orlando - Very well: what would you?
Rosalind I pray you, what is 't o'clock ?
Orlando - You should ask me, what time o' day: there's no
clock in the forest.
Rosalind-Then there is no true lover in the forest; else
sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the
lazy foot of time as well as a clock.
Orlando - And why not the swift foot of time? had not that
been as proper?
Rosalind-By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces
with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who
Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands.
still withal.
## p. 13239 (#37) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13239
-
Orlando I pr'ythee, who doth he trot withal?
Rosalind - Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between
the contract of her marriage and the day it is solemnized: if the
interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it seems
the length of seven years.
Orlando Who ambles Time withal?
――――
Rosalind With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that
hath not the gout: for the one sleeps easily because he cannot
study, and the other lives merrily because he feels no pain; the
one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the other
knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time
ambles withal.
―――――――
Orlando - Who doth he gallop withal?
Rosalind With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as
softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.
Orlando Who stands he still withal?
Rosalind - With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep be-
tween term and term, and then they perceive not how time
moves.
Orlando - Where dwell you, pretty youth?
Rosalind-With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts
of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
Orlando - Are you native of this place?
Rosalind - As the coney, that you see dwell where she is
kindled.
Orlando - Your accent is something finer than you could pur-
chase in so removed a dwelling.
Rosalind - I have been told so of many: but indeed an old
religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth
an inland man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he
fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against
it; and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched with so
many giddy offenses as he hath generally taxed their whole sex
withal.
-
Orlando Can you remember any of the principal evils that
he laid to the charge of women?
Rosalind-There were none principal: they were all like one
another, as halfpence are; every one fault seeming monstrous,
till his fellow fault came to match it.
Orlando - I pr'ythee, recount some of them.
Rosalind-No: I will not cast away my physic but on those
that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our
## p. 13240 (#38) ###########################################
13240
SHAKESPEARE
young plants with carving Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes
upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles: all, forsooth, deifying
the name of Rosalind; - if I could meet that fancy-monger I
would give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quo-
tidian of love upon him.
Orlando- I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you, tell
me your remedy.
Rosalind - There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he
taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes,
I am sure, you are not prisoner.
Orlando- What were his marks?
-
love.
Rosalind- A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye, and
sunken, which you have not; an unquestionable spirit, which you
have not; a beard neglected, which you have not; - but I par-
don you for that, for, simply, your having in beard is a younger
brother's revenue. Then, your hose should be ungartered, your
bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and
everything about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But
you are no such man: you are rather point-device in your ac-
coutrements; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any
other.
Orlando- Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I
Rosalind-Me believe it? you may as soon make her that
you love believe it: which, I warrant, she is apter to do than to
confess she does; that is one of the points in the which women
still give the lie to their consciences. But in good sooth, are
you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is
so admired?
-
Orlando - I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosa-
lind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.
Rosalind-But are you
you so much in love as your rhymes
――
speak?
Orlando- Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
Rosalind - Love is merely a madness: and I tell you, deserves
as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason
why they are not so punished and cured is, that the lunacy is so
ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I profess cur-
ing it by counsel.
Orlando - Did you ever cure any so?
Rosalind-Yes, one; and in this manner.
He was to imagine
me his love, his mistress, and I set him every day to woo me:
## p. 13241 (#39) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13241
at which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be
effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical,
apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every
passion something, and for no passion truly anything, as boys
and women are, for the most part, cattle of this color: would
now like him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear
him; now weep for him, then spit at him: that I drave my
suitor from his mad humor of love, to a loving humor of mad-
ness; which was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and
to live in a nook, merely monastic. And thus I cured him; and
this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean as a
sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in 't.
Orlando - I would not be cured, youth.
Rosalind - I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosa-
lind, and come every day to my cote, and woo me.
Orlando - Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me
where it is.
Rosalind-Go with me to it, and I'll show it you; and by
the way, you shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will
you go?
Orlando-With all my heart, good youth.
Rosalind - Nay, you must call me Rosalind. - Come, sister,
will you go?
[Exeunt.
ING RICHARD-
Scene: Pomfret. The Dungeon of the Castle.
Κ'
RICHARD II. IN PRISON
From King Richard II. '
The Dungeon of the Castle. Enter King Richard.
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world;
And for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it: yet I'll hammer 't out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world;
In humors like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,
## p. 13242 (#40) ###########################################
13242
SHAKESPEARE
As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word;
As thus,-"Come, little ones;" and then again,—
"It is as hard to come, as for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye. "
Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Nor shall not be the last: like silly beggars,
Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame
That many have, and others must sit there;
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of such as have before endured the like.
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented: sometimes am I king;
Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am; then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king.
Then am I kinged again; and by-and-by
Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing. - But whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man that but man is,
With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
With being nothing. - Music do I hear?
Ha, ha! keep time. -How sour sweet music is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of men's lives;
[Music. ,
And here have I the daintiness of ear
To check time broke in a disordered string,
But for the concord of my State and time
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me:
For now hath time made me his numbering clock;
My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now, for the sound that tells what hour it is,
## p. 13243 (#41) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13243
OINS
Scene: Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern.
Poins. Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto.
P
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs, and tears, and groans,
Show minutes, times, and hours; but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
This music mads me: let it sound no more;
For though it hath holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it seems, it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
―
FALSTAFF AND PRINCE HAL
From First Part of King Henry IV. )
Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
Falstaff-A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance
too! marry, and amen! - Give me a cup of sack, boy. -Ere I
lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them, and
foot them too. A plague of all cowards! -Give me a cup of
sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant?
[He drinks.
Prince Henry-Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of
butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the
sun! If thou didst, then behold that compound.
Falstaff-You rogue, here's lime in this sack too; there is
nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: yet a coward
is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward.
-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good
manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I
a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged
in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help
the while! a bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver: I
could sing psalms or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say
still.
Prince Henry,
Prince Henry - How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?
Falstaff-A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy
kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore
## p. 13244 (#42) ###########################################
13244
SHAKESPEARE
thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face
more. You Prince of Wales!
Prince Henry-Why, you whoreson round man, what's the
matter?
Falstaff-Are you not a coward? answer me to that! and
Poins there?
Poins-Zounds! ye fat paunch, and ye call me coward, I'll
stab thee.
Falstaff-I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call
thee coward; but I would give a thousand pound I could run as
fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders;
you care not who sees your back. Call you that backing of
your friends?
A plague upon such backing! give me them that
will face me. -Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue if I drunk
to-day.
Prince Henry-O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
drunkest last.
Falstaff― All's one for that. [He drinks. ] A plague of all
cowards, still say I.
Prince Henry-What's the matter?
Falstaff-What's the matter? there be four of us here have
ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.
Prince Henry-Where is it, Jack! where is it?
Falstaff-Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon
poor four of us.
Prince Henry - What, a hundred, man?
Falstaff-I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with
a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle.
A cur can lend three thousand ducats? " or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this? -
"Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurned me such a day; another time
## p. 13230 (#28) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13230
Antonio
Shylock-
You called me dog: and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys. "
I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friend; for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemy;
Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Exact the penalty.
-
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stained me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Of usance for my moneys,
And you'll not hear me. This is kind I offer.
LAUNCELOT AND OLD GOBBO
From The Merchant of Venice'
Scene: Venice. A Street. Enter Launcelot Gobbo.
AUNCELOT Certainly, my
L
conscience will serve me to run
from this Jew, my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and
tempts me, saying to me, "Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good
Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your
legs, take the start, run away. " My conscience says, "No: take
heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo" - or as afore-
said "honest Launcelot Gobbo: do not run; scorn running with
thy heels. " Well, the most contagious fiend bids me pack: "Via! "
says the fiend; "away! " says the fiend: "'fore the heavens, rouse
up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run. " Well, my con-
science, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to
me, "My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,"
or rather an honest woman's son: for indeed my father did
something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste-
well, my conscience says, "Launcelot, budge not. " "Budge," says
the fiend; "Budge not," says my conscience. Conscience, say I,
you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be ruled by
my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who (God
bless the mark! ) is a kind of devil; and to run away from the
## p. 13231 (#29) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13231
Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence,
is the Devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very Devil incar-
nation; and in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of
hard conscience to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew.
The fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my
heels are at your commandment; I will run.
[Going out in haste.
Enter Old Gobbo, with a Basket
Gobbo - Master, young man, you, I pray you, which is the
way to master Jew's?
――――
-
Launcelot [aside] — O heavens! this is my true-begotten father,
who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me
not; I will try confusions with him.
Gobbo - Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the
way to master Jew's?
Launcelot-Turn up on your right hand at the next turning,
but at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very
next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the
Jew's house.
Gobbo - By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can
you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell
with him or no?
Launcelot - Talk you of young master Launcelot ? - [Aside. ]
Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. -[To him. ] Talk you
of young master Launcelot ?
Gobbo - No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father,
though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man; and God be
thanked, well to live.
Launcelot - Well, let his father be what 'a will, we talk of
young master Launcelot.
Gobbo - Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
Launcelot But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech
you, talk you of young master Launcelot ?
Gobbo-Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Launcelot - Ergo, master Launcelot. Talk not of master
Launcelot, father: for the young gentleman (according to fates.
and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such
branches of learning) is indeed deceased; or as you would say,
in plain terms, gone to heaven.
Gobbo - Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my
age, my very prop.
## p. 13232 (#30) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13232
Launcelot [aside]-Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a
staff or a prop? -[To him. ] Do you know me, father?
Gobbo Alack the day: I know you not, young gentleman.
But I pray you, tell me, is my boy (God rest his soul! ) alive or
dead?
Launcelot Do you not know me, father?
Gobbo - Alack, sir, I am sand-blind: I know you not.
Launcelot - Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes you might fail
of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child.
Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. [Kneels. ] Give
me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid
long; a man's son may, but in the end truth will out.
Gobbo - Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not
Launcelot, my boy.
Launcelot - Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but
give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your
son that is, your child that shall be.
Gobbo-I cannot think you are my son.
Launcelot I know not what I shall think of that; but I am
Launcelot the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is
my mother.
Gobbo Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou
be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord! wor-
shiped might he be! what a beard hast thou got: thou hast got
more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
Launcelot [rising]-It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail
grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I
have of my face when I last saw him.
Gobbo-Lord! how art thou changed! How dost thou and
thy master agree? I have brought him a present.
How agree
you now?
Launcelot - Well, well; but for mine own part, as I have set
up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some
ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a present! give him
a halter: I am famished in his service; you may tell every finger
I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me
your present to one master Bassanio, who indeed gives rare new
liveries. If I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any
ground. —O rare fortune! here comes the man; to him, father;
for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.
-
## p. 13233 (#31) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13233
Scene: Venice.
PORTIA
Duke-
Portia-
Shylock-
Portia-
Antonio-
Portia
Antonio-
Portia-
Shylock-
Portia-
Shylock-
[To Antonio]-
Venice. A Court of Justice.
I am informed throughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
Is your name Shylock?
―
Shylock is my name.
Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. —
THE QUALITY OF MERCY
From The Merchant of Venice'
I do.
You stand within his danger, do you not?
Ay, so he says.
Do you confess the bond?
Then must the Jew be merciful.
On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath; it is twice blessed,-
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway:
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,—
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
XXIII-828
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
My deeds upon my head. I crave the law;
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
## p. 13234 (#32) ###########################################
13234
SHAKESPEARE
L
Scene: Belmont. The Avenue to Portia's House.
Jessica.
ORENZO
Jessica -
Lorenzo
Jessica-
Lorenzo
Jessica-
Lorenzo
Jessica
-
LORENZO AND JESSICA
From The Merchant of Venice'
--
Enter Lorenzo and
The moon shines bright. In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise-in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
In such a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.
In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waved her love
To come again to Carthage.
In such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
I would out-night you, did no body come;
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.
Enter Stephano
Lorenzo Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Stephano - A friend.
Lorenzo
A friend? what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
Stephano-Stephano is my name: and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
In such a night,
Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
That did renew old son.
In such a night,
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift, love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.
In such a night,
Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.
## p. 13235 (#33) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13235
_
Lorenzo
Who comes with her?
Stephano- None but a holy hermit, and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet returned?
Lorenzo He is not, nor we have not heard from him. -
______
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
Enter Launcelot
Launcelot - Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
Lorenzo - Who calls?
Launcelot-Sola!
Did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lo-
renza? sola, sola!
Lorenzo-Leave hallooing, man: here.
Launcelot - Sola! where? where?
Lorenzo Here.
Launcelot - Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with
his horn full of good news: my master will be here ere morning.
[Exit.
Lorenzo-Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
And yet no matter;- why should we go in?
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air. —
[Exit Stephano.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica: look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou beholdest,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
Enter Musicians
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn:
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress's ear,
And draw her home with music.
Jessica-I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
[Music.
## p. 13236 (#34) ###########################################
13236
SHAKESPEARE
Scene: The Forest of Arden.
CE
ELIA -Oh, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonder-
ful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all
whooping!
Rosalind-Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I
am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my
disposition? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of dis-
covery; I pr'ythee, tell me who is it quickly; and speak apace.
I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this con-
cealed man out of thy mouth as wine comes out of a narrow-
mouthed bottle: either too much at once, or none at all. I
pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy
tidings.
-
Celia - So you may put a man in your belly.
Rosalind - Is he of God's making? What manner of man?
Is his head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard?
Celia Nay, he hath but a little beard.
Rosalind-Why, God will send more, if the man will be
thankful. Let me stay the growth of his beard, if thou delay
me not the knowledge of his chin.
Celia It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
heels and your heart, both in an instant.
Rosalind - Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak sad brow,
and true maid.
Celia - I' faith, coz, 'tis he.
Rosalind-Orlando ?
Orlando.
Celia-
-
ROSALIND, ORLANDO, JAQUES
From As You Like It'
-
Rosalind-Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet
and hose? What did he, when thou saw'st him? What said
he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes he here?
Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with
thee, and when shalt thou see him again?
word.
Answer me in one
Celia-You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis
a word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To say ay
and no to these particulars is more than to answer in a cate-
chism.
## p. 13237 (#35) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13237
Rosalind-But doth he know that I am in this forest, and
in man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he
wrestled?
Celia It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the prop-
ositions of a lover; but take a taste of my finding him, and
relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a
dropped acorn.
Rosalind-It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops
forth such fruit.
Celia - Give me audience, good madam.
Rosalind - Proceed.
Celia - There lay he stretched along, like a wounded knight.
Rosalind-Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well be-
comes the ground.
Celia Cry, holla! to thy tongue, I pr'ythee: it curvets un-
seasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.
-
Rosalind - Oh, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.
Celia - I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring'st
me out of tune.
Celia
Rosalind - Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I
must speak. Sweet, say on.
Enter Orlando and Jaques
You bring me out. - Soft! comes he not here?
Rosalind-'Tis he: slink by, and note him.
-
[Rosalind and Celia retire.
Jaques I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I
had as lief have been myself alone.
-
Orlando - And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank
you too for your society.
Jaques-Good-by, you: let's meet as little as we can.
Orlando - I do desire we may be better strangers.
Jaques — I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love-
songs in their barks.
Orlando-I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading
them ill-favoredly.
Jaques Rosalind is your love's name?
Orlando-Yes, just.
Jaques I do not like her name.
Orlando-There was no thought of pleasing you, when she
was christened.
―――
-
## p. 13238 (#36) ###########################################
13238
SHAKESPEARE
Jaques What stature is she of?
Orlando-Just as high as my heart.
Jaques-You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings?
Orlando-Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
whence you have studied your questions.
Jaques You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of Ata-
lanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail
against our mistress the world, and all our misery.
Orlando-I will chide no breather in the world but myself,
against whom I know most faults.
Jaques - The worst fault you have is to be in love.
Orlando-'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue.
I am weary of you.
Jaques By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found
you.
Orlando He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you
Ishall see him.
-
-
Jaques - There I shall see mine own figure.
Orlando - Which I take to be either a fool or a cypher.
Jaques I'll tarry no longer with you.
Farewell, good
Signior Love.
Orlando - I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Mon-
sieur Melancholy.
[Exit Jaques. - Rosalind and Celia come forward. ]
Rosalind [aside to Celia]-I will speak to him like a saucy
lackey, and under that habit play the knave with him. -[To him. ]
Do you hear, forester?
――――――
Orlando - Very well: what would you?
Rosalind I pray you, what is 't o'clock ?
Orlando - You should ask me, what time o' day: there's no
clock in the forest.
Rosalind-Then there is no true lover in the forest; else
sighing every minute, and groaning every hour, would detect the
lazy foot of time as well as a clock.
Orlando - And why not the swift foot of time? had not that
been as proper?
Rosalind-By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces
with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who
Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands.
still withal.
## p. 13239 (#37) ###########################################
SHAKESPEARE
13239
-
Orlando I pr'ythee, who doth he trot withal?
Rosalind - Marry, he trots hard with a young maid, between
the contract of her marriage and the day it is solemnized: if the
interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is so hard that it seems
the length of seven years.
Orlando Who ambles Time withal?
――――
Rosalind With a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that
hath not the gout: for the one sleeps easily because he cannot
study, and the other lives merrily because he feels no pain; the
one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the other
knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury. These Time
ambles withal.
―――――――
Orlando - Who doth he gallop withal?
Rosalind With a thief to the gallows; for though he go as
softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there.
Orlando Who stands he still withal?
Rosalind - With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep be-
tween term and term, and then they perceive not how time
moves.
Orlando - Where dwell you, pretty youth?
Rosalind-With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts
of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
Orlando - Are you native of this place?
Rosalind - As the coney, that you see dwell where she is
kindled.
Orlando - Your accent is something finer than you could pur-
chase in so removed a dwelling.
Rosalind - I have been told so of many: but indeed an old
religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was in his youth
an inland man; one that knew courtship too well, for there he
fell in love. I have heard him read many lectures against
it; and I thank God I am not a woman, to be touched with so
many giddy offenses as he hath generally taxed their whole sex
withal.
-
Orlando Can you remember any of the principal evils that
he laid to the charge of women?
Rosalind-There were none principal: they were all like one
another, as halfpence are; every one fault seeming monstrous,
till his fellow fault came to match it.
Orlando - I pr'ythee, recount some of them.
Rosalind-No: I will not cast away my physic but on those
that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that abuses our
## p. 13240 (#38) ###########################################
13240
SHAKESPEARE
young plants with carving Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes
upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles: all, forsooth, deifying
the name of Rosalind; - if I could meet that fancy-monger I
would give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the quo-
tidian of love upon him.
Orlando- I am he that is so love-shaked. I pray you, tell
me your remedy.
Rosalind - There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he
taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes,
I am sure, you are not prisoner.
Orlando- What were his marks?
-
love.
Rosalind- A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye, and
sunken, which you have not; an unquestionable spirit, which you
have not; a beard neglected, which you have not; - but I par-
don you for that, for, simply, your having in beard is a younger
brother's revenue. Then, your hose should be ungartered, your
bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied, and
everything about you demonstrating a careless desolation. But
you are no such man: you are rather point-device in your ac-
coutrements; as loving yourself, than seeming the lover of any
other.
Orlando- Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I
Rosalind-Me believe it? you may as soon make her that
you love believe it: which, I warrant, she is apter to do than to
confess she does; that is one of the points in the which women
still give the lie to their consciences. But in good sooth, are
you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is
so admired?
-
Orlando - I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosa-
lind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.
Rosalind-But are you
you so much in love as your rhymes
――
speak?
Orlando- Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.
Rosalind - Love is merely a madness: and I tell you, deserves
as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do; and the reason
why they are not so punished and cured is, that the lunacy is so
ordinary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I profess cur-
ing it by counsel.
Orlando - Did you ever cure any so?
Rosalind-Yes, one; and in this manner.
He was to imagine
me his love, his mistress, and I set him every day to woo me:
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13241
at which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be
effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical,
apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every
passion something, and for no passion truly anything, as boys
and women are, for the most part, cattle of this color: would
now like him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear
him; now weep for him, then spit at him: that I drave my
suitor from his mad humor of love, to a loving humor of mad-
ness; which was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and
to live in a nook, merely monastic. And thus I cured him; and
this way will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean as a
sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in 't.
Orlando - I would not be cured, youth.
Rosalind - I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosa-
lind, and come every day to my cote, and woo me.
Orlando - Now, by the faith of my love, I will. Tell me
where it is.
Rosalind-Go with me to it, and I'll show it you; and by
the way, you shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will
you go?
Orlando-With all my heart, good youth.
Rosalind - Nay, you must call me Rosalind. - Come, sister,
will you go?
[Exeunt.
ING RICHARD-
Scene: Pomfret. The Dungeon of the Castle.
Κ'
RICHARD II. IN PRISON
From King Richard II. '
The Dungeon of the Castle. Enter King Richard.
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world;
And for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it: yet I'll hammer 't out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world;
In humors like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,
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As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word;
As thus,-"Come, little ones;" and then again,—
"It is as hard to come, as for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye. "
Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Nor shall not be the last: like silly beggars,
Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame
That many have, and others must sit there;
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of such as have before endured the like.
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented: sometimes am I king;
Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am; then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king.
Then am I kinged again; and by-and-by
Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing. - But whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man that but man is,
With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
With being nothing. - Music do I hear?
Ha, ha! keep time. -How sour sweet music is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of men's lives;
[Music. ,
And here have I the daintiness of ear
To check time broke in a disordered string,
But for the concord of my State and time
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me:
For now hath time made me his numbering clock;
My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now, for the sound that tells what hour it is,
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OINS
Scene: Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's Head Tavern.
Poins. Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto.
P
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs, and tears, and groans,
Show minutes, times, and hours; but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
This music mads me: let it sound no more;
For though it hath holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it seems, it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
―
FALSTAFF AND PRINCE HAL
From First Part of King Henry IV. )
Welcome, Jack. Where hast thou been?
Falstaff-A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance
too! marry, and amen! - Give me a cup of sack, boy. -Ere I
lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and mend them, and
foot them too. A plague of all cowards! -Give me a cup of
sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant?
[He drinks.
Prince Henry-Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of
butter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the
sun! If thou didst, then behold that compound.
Falstaff-You rogue, here's lime in this sack too; there is
nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man: yet a coward
is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it; a villainous coward.
-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good
manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I
a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged
in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help
the while! a bad world, I say. I would I were a weaver: I
could sing psalms or anything. A plague of all cowards, I say
still.
Prince Henry,
Prince Henry - How now, wool-sack! what mutter you?
Falstaff-A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy
kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore
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thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face
more. You Prince of Wales!
Prince Henry-Why, you whoreson round man, what's the
matter?
Falstaff-Are you not a coward? answer me to that! and
Poins there?
Poins-Zounds! ye fat paunch, and ye call me coward, I'll
stab thee.
Falstaff-I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call
thee coward; but I would give a thousand pound I could run as
fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders;
you care not who sees your back. Call you that backing of
your friends?
A plague upon such backing! give me them that
will face me. -Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue if I drunk
to-day.
Prince Henry-O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou
drunkest last.
Falstaff― All's one for that. [He drinks. ] A plague of all
cowards, still say I.
Prince Henry-What's the matter?
Falstaff-What's the matter? there be four of us here have
ta'en a thousand pound this day morning.
Prince Henry-Where is it, Jack! where is it?
Falstaff-Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon
poor four of us.
Prince Henry - What, a hundred, man?
Falstaff-I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with
a dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by miracle.
