Cap: A Ielous hood, a Ielous hood: How now sirra?
What haue you there?
Ser: Forsooth Logs.
Cap: Goe, goe choose dryer. Will will tell thee where
thou shalt fetch them. 15
Ser: Nay I warrant let me alone, I haue a heade I troe to
choose a Log.
Exit.
Cap: Well goe thy way, thou shalt be logger head.
Come, come, make hast call vp your daughter,
The Countie will be heere with musicke straight. 20
Gods me hees come, Nurse call vp my daughter.
Nur: Goe, get you gone. What lambe, what Lady
birde? fast I warrant. What Iuliet? well, let the County take
you in your bed: yee sleepe for a weeke now, but the next
night, the Countie Paris hath set vp his rest that you shal rest25
but little. What lambe I say, fast still: what Lady, Loue,
whatbride, what Iuliet? Gods me how sound she sleeps? Nay
then I see I must wake you indeed. Whats heere, laide on
your bed, drest in your cloathes and down, ah me, alack the
day, some Aqua vitæ hoe. 30
Enter Mother.
Moth: How now whats the matter?
Nur: Alack the day, shees dead, shees dead, shees dead.
Moth: Accurst, vnhappy, miserable time.
Enter Oldeman.
Cap: Come, come, make hast, wheres my daughter?
Moth: Ah shees dead, shees dead. 35
Cap: Stay, let me see, all pale and wan.
Accursed time, vnfortunate olde man.
Enter Fryer and Paris.
Par: What is the bride ready to goe to Church?
Cap: Ready to goe, but neuer to returne.
O Sonne the night before thy wedding day, 40
Hath Death laine with thy bride, flower as she is,
Deflowerd by him, see, where she lyes,
Death is my Sonne in Law, to him I giue all that I haue,
Par: Haue I thought long to see this mornings face,
And doth it now present such prodegies? 45
Accurst, vnhappy, miserable man,
Forlorne, forsaken, destitute I am:
Borne to the world to be a slaue in it.
Distrest, remediles, and vnfortunate.
O heauens, O nature, wherefore did you make me, 50
To liue so vile, so wretched as I shall.
Cap: O heere she lies that was our hope, our ioy,
And being dead, dead sorrow nips vs all.
All at once cry out and wring their hands.
All cry: And all our ioy, and all our hope is dead,
Dead, lost, vndone, absented, wholy fled. 55
Cap: Cruel, vniust, impartiall destinies,
Why to this day haue you preseru'd my life?
To see my hope, my stay, my ioy, my life,
Depriude of sence, of life, of all by death,
Cruell, vniust, impartiall destinies. 60
Cap: O sad fac'd sorrow map of misery,
Why this sad time haue I desird to see.
This day, this vniust, this impartiall day
Wherein I hop'd to see my comfort full,
To be depriude by suddaine destinie. 65
Moth: O woe, alacke, distrest, why should I liue?
To see this day, this miserable day.
Alacke the time that euer I was borne.
To be partaker of this destinie.
Alacke the day, alacke and welladay. 70
Fr: O peace for shame, if not for charity.
Your daughter liues in peace and happines,
And it is vaine to wish it otherwise.
Come sticke your Rosemary in this dead coarse,
And as the custome of our Country is, 75
In all her best and sumptuous ornaments,
Conuay her where her Ancestors lie tomb'd,
Cap: Let it be so, come wofull sorrow mates,
Let vs together taste this bitter fate.
They all but the Nurse goe foorth, casting Rosemary on
her and shutting the Curtens.
Enter Musitions.
Nur: Put vp, put vp, this is a wofull case. Exit.80
1. I by my troth Mistresse is it, it had need be mended.
Enter Seruingman.
Ser: Alack alack what shal I doe, come Fidlers play me
some mery dumpe.
1. A sir, this is no time to play.
Ser: You will not then? 85
1. No marry will wee.
Ser: Then will I giue it you, and soundly to.
1. What will you giue vs?
Ser: The fidler, Ile re you, Ile fa you, Ile sol you.
1. If you re vs and fa vs, we will note you. 90
Ser: I will put vp my Iron dagger, and beate you with
my wodden wit. Come on Simon found Pot, Ile pose you,
1. Lets heare.
Ser: When griping griefe the heart doth wound,
And dolefull dumps the minde oppresse: 95
Then musique with her siluer sound,
Why siluer sound? Why siluer sound?
1. I thinke because musicke hath a sweet sound.
Ser: Pretie, what say you Mathew minikine?
2. I thinke because Musitions sound for siluer. 100
Ser: Prettie too: come, what say you?
3. I say nothing.
Ser: I thinke so, Ile speake for you because you are the
Singer. I saye Siluer sound, because such Fellowes as you
haue sildome Golde for sounding. Farewell Fidlers, 105
farewell. Exit.
1. Farewell and be hangd: come lets goe. Exeunt.
[Sc. XX.]
Enter Romeo.
Rom: If I may trust the flattering Eye of Sleepe,
My Dreame presagde some good euent to come.
My bosome Lord sits chearfull in his throne,
And I am comforted with pleasing dreames.
Me thought I was this night alreadie dead: 5
(Strange dreames that giue a dead man leaue to thinke)
And that my Ladie Iuliet came to me,
And breathd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reuiude and was an Emperour.
Enter Balthasar his man booted.
Newes from Verona. How now Balthasar, 10
How doth my Ladie? Is my Father well?
How fares my Juliet? that I aske againe:
If she be well, then nothing can be ill.
Balt: Then nothing can be ill, for she is well,
Her bodie sleepes in Capels Monument, 15
And her immortall parts with Angels dwell.
Pardon me Sir, that am the Messenger of such bad tidings.
Rom: Is it euen so? then I defie my Starres.
Goe get me incke and paper, hyre post horse,
I will not stay in Mantua to night. 20
Balt: Pardon me Sir, I will not leaue you thus,
Your lookes are dangerous and full of feare:
I dare not, nor I will not leaue you yet.
Rom: Doo as I bid thee, get me incke and paper,
And hyre those horse: stay not I say. 25
Exit Balthasar.
Well Iuliet, I will lye with thee to night.
Lets see for meanes. As I doo remember
Here dwells a Pothecarie whom oft I noted
As I past by, whose needie shop is stufft
With beggerly accounts of emptie boxes: 30
And in the same an Aligarta hangs,
Olde endes of packthred, and cakes of Roses,
Are thinly strewed to make vp a show.
Him as I noted, thus with my selfe I thought:
And if a man should need a poyson now, 35
(Whose present sale is death in Mantua)
Here he might buy it. This thought of mine
Did but forerunne my need: and here about he dwels.
Being Holiday the Beggers shop is shut.
What ho Apothecarie, come forth I say. 40
Enter Apothecarie.
Apo: Who calls, what would you sir?
Rom: Heeres twentie duckates,
Giue me a dram of some such speeding geere,
As will dispatch the wearie takers life,
As suddenly as powder being fierd 45
From forth a Cannons mouth.
Apo: Such drugs I haue I must of force confesse,
But yet the law is death to those that sell them.
Rom: Art thou so bare and full of pouertie,
And doost thou feare to violate the Law? 50
The Law is not thy frend, nor the Lawes frend,
And therefore make no conscience of the law:
Vpon thy backe hangs ragged Miserie,
And starued Famine dwelleth in thy cheekes.
Apo: My pouertie but not my will consents. 55
Rom: I pay thy pouertie, but not thy will.
Apo: Hold take you this, and put it in anie liquid thing
you will, and it will serue had you the liues of twenty men.
Rom: Hold, take this gold, worse poyson to mens soules
Than this which thou hast giuen me. Goe hye thee hence, 60
Goe buy the cloathes, and get thee into flesh.
Come cordiall and not poyson, goe with mee
To Iuliets Graue: for there mvst I vse thee. Exeunt.
[Sc. XXI.]
Enter Frier Iohn.
John: What Frier Laurence, Brother, ho?
Laur: This same should be the voyce of Frier Iohn.
What newes from Mantua, what will Romeo come?
Iohn: Going to seeke a barefoote Brother out,
One of our order to associate mee, 5
Here in this Cittie visiting the sick,
Whereas the infectious pestilence remaind:
And being by the Searchers of the Towne
Found and examinde, we were both shut vp.
Laur: Who bare my letters then to Romeo? 10
Iohn: I haue them still, and here they are.
Laur: Now by my holy Order,
The letters were not nice, but of great weight.
Goe get thee hence, and get me presently
A spade and mattocke. 15
Iohn: Well I will presently go fetch thee them. Exit.
Laur: Now must I to the Monument alone,
Least that the Ladie should before I come
Be wakde from sleepe. I will hye
To free her from that Tombe of miserie. Exit. 20
[Sc. XXII.]
Enter Countie Paris and his Page with flowers
and sweete water.
Par: Put out the torch, and lye thee all along
Vnder this Ew-tree, keeping thine eare close to the hollow ground.
And if thou heare one tread within this Churchyard,
Staight giue me notice. 5
Boy: I will my Lord.
Paris strewes the Tomb with flowers.
Par: Sweete Flower, with flowers I strew thy Bridale bed:
Sweete Tombe that in thy circuite dost containe,
The perfect modell of eternitie:
Faire Iuliet that with Angells dost remaine, 10
Accept this latest fauour at my hands,
That liuing honourd thee, and being dead
With funerall praises doo adorne thy Tombe.
Boy whistles and calls. My Lord.
Enter Romeo and Balthasar, with a torch, a
mattocke, and a crow of yron.
Par: The boy giues warning, something doth approach. 15
What cursed foote wanders this was to night,
To stay my obsequies and true loues rites?
What with a torch, muffle me night a while.
Rom: Giue mee this mattocke, and this wrentching Iron.
And take these letters, early in the morning, 20
See thou deliuer them to my Lord and Father.
So get thee gone and trouble me no more.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is partly to behold my Ladies face,
But chiefly to take from her dead finger, 25
A precious ring which I must vse
In deare imployment: but if thou wilt stay,
Further to prie in what I vndertake,
By heauen Ile teare thee ioynt by ioynt,
And strewe thys hungry churchyard with thy lims 30
The time and my intents are sauage, wilde.
Balt: Well, Ile be gone and not trouble you.
Rom: So shalt thou win my fauour, take thou this,
Commend me to my Father, farwell good fellow.
Balt: Yet for all this will I not part from hence. 35
Romeo opens the tombe.
Rom: Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorde with the dearest morsell of the earth.
Thus I enforce thy rotten iawes to ope.
Par: This is that banisht haughtie Mountague,
That murderd my loues cosen, I will apprehend him. 40
Stop thy vnhallowed toyle vile Mountague.
Can vengeance be pursued further then death?
I doe attach thee as a fellon heere.
The Law condemnes thee, therefore thou must dye,
Rom: I must indeed, and therefore came I hither, 45
Good youth be gone, tempt not a desperate man.
Heape not another sinne vpon my head
By sheding of thy bloud, I doe protest
I loue thee better then I loue my selfe:
For I come hyther armde against my selfe, 50
Par: I doe defie thy coniurations:
And doe attach thee as a fellon heere.
Rom: What dost thou tempt me, then haue at thee boy.
They fight.
Boy: O Lord they fight, I will goe call the watch.
Par: Ah I am slaine, if thou be mercifull 55
Open the tombe, lay me with Iuliet.
Rom: Yfaith I will, let me peruse this face,
Mercutios kinsman, noble County Paris?
What said my man, when my betossed soule
Did not regard him as we past a long.
Did he not say Paris should have maried
Iuliet? eyther he said so, or I dreamd it so.
But I will satisfie thy last request,
For thou hast prizd thy loue aboue thy life.
Death lye thou there, by a dead man interd, 65
How oft have many at the houre of death
Beene blith and pleasant? which their keepers call
A lightning before death But how may I
Call this a lightning. Ah deare Iuliet,
How well thy beauty doth become this graue? 70
O I beleeue that vnsubstanciall death,
Is amorous, and doth court my loue.
Therefore will I, O heere, O euer heere,
Set vp my euerlasting rest
With wormes, that are thy chamber mayds. 75
Come desperate Pilot now at once runne on
The dashing rockes thy sea-sicke weary barge.
Heers to my loue. O true Apothecary:
Thy drugs are swift: thus with a kisse I dye. Falls.
Enter Fryer with a Lanthorne.
How oft to night haue these my aged feete 80
Stumbled at graues as I did passe along.
Whose there?
Man. A frend and one that knowes you well.
Fr: Who is it that consorts so late the dead,
What light is yon? if I be not deceiued, 85
Me thinkes it burnes in Capels monument?
Man. It doth so holy Sir, and there is one
That loues you dearly.
Fr. Who is it?
Man: Romeo. 90
Fr: How long hath he beene there?
Man: Full halfe an houre and more.
Fr: Goe with me thether.
Man: I dare not sir, he knowes not I am heere:
On paine of death he chargde me to be gone, 95
And not for to disturbe him in his enterprize.
Fr: Then must I goe: my minde presageth ill.
Fryer stoops and lookes on the blood and weapons.
What bloud is this that staines the entrance
Of this marble stony monument?
What meanes these maisterles and goory weapons?
Ah me I doubt, whose heere? what Romeo dead?
Who and Paris too? what vnluckie houre
Is accessary to so foule a sinne?
Iuliet rises.
The Lady sturres.[1595]
Ah comfortable Fryer. 105
I doe remember well where I should be,
And what we talkt of: but yet I cannot see
Him for whose sake I vndertooke this hazard.
Fr: Lady come foorth, I heare some noise at hand,
We shall be taken, Paris he is slaine, 110
And Romeo dead: and if we heere be tane
We shall be thought to be as accessarie.
I will prouide for you in some close Nunery.
Iul: Ah leaue me, leaue me, I will not from hence.
Fr: I heare some noise, I dare not stay, come, come. 115
Iul: Goe get thee gone.
Whats heere a cup closde in my louers hands?
Ah churle drinke all, and leaue no drop for me.
Enter watch.
Watch: This way, this way.
Iul: I, noise? then must I be resolute. 120
O happy dagger thou shalt end my feare,
Rest in my bosome, thus I come to thee.
She stabs herselfe and falles.
Enter watch.
Cap: Come looke about, what weapons haue we heere?
See frends where Iuliet two daies buried,
New bleeding wounded, search and see who's neare, 125
Attach and bring them to vs presently.
Enter one with the Fryer.
1. Captaine heers a Fryer with tooles about him,
Fitte to ope a tombe.
Cap: A great suspition, keep him safe.
Enter one with Romeos man.
1. Heeres Romeos Man. 130
Capt: Keepe him to be examinde.
Enter Prince with others.
Prin: What early mischiefe calls vs vp so soone.
Capt: O noble Prince, see here
Where Juliet that hath lyen intoombd two dayes,
Warme and fresh bleeding, Romeo and Countie Paris 135
Likewise newly slaine.
Prin: Search seeke about to finde the murderers.
Enter olde Capolet and his Wife.
Capo: What rumor's this that is so early vp?
Moth: The people in the streetes crie Romeo,
And some on Iuliet: as if they alone 140
Had been the cause of such a mutinie.
Capo: See Wife, this dagger hath mistooke:
For (loe) the backe is emptie of yong Mountague,
And it is sheathed in our Daughters breast.
Enter olde Montague.
Prin: Come Mountague, for thou art early vp, 145
To see thy Sonne and Heire more early downe.
Mount: Dread Souereigne, my Wife is dead to night,
And yong Benuolio is deceased too:
What further mischiefe can there yet be found?
Prin: First come and see, then speake. 150
Mount: O thou vntaught, what manners is in this
To presse before thy Father to a graue.
Prin: Come seale your mouthes of outrage for a while,
And let vs seeke to finde the Authors out
Of such a hainous and seld seene mischaunce. 155
Bring forth the parties in suspition.
Fr: I am the greatest able to doo least.
Most worthie Prince, heare me but speake the truth.
And Ile informe you how these things fell out.
Juliet here slaine was married to that Romeo, 160
Without her Fathers or her Mothers grant:
The Nurse was priuie to the marriage.
The balefull day of this vnhappie marriage,
Was Tybalts doomesday: for which Romeo
Was banished from hence to Mantua. 165
He gone, her Father sought by foule constraint
To marrie her to Paris: But her Soule
(Loathing a second Contract) did refuse
To giue consent; and therefore did she vrge me
Either to finde a meanes she might auoyd 170
What so her Father sought to force her too:
Or els all desperately she threatned
Euen in my presence to dispatch her selfe.
Then did I giue her, (tutord by mine arte)
A potion that should make her seeme as dead: 175
And told her that I would with all post speed
Send hence to Mantua for her Romeo,
That he might come and take her from the Toombe.
But he that had my Letters (Frier John)
Seeking a Brother to associate him, 180
Whereas the sicke infection remaind,
Was stayed by the Searchers of the Towne,
But Romeo vnderstanding by his man,
That Iuliet was deceasde, returnde in post
Vnto Verona for to see his loue. 185
What after happened touching Paris death,
Or Romeos is to me vnknowne at all.
But when I came to take the Lady hence,
I found them dead, and she awakt from sleep:
Whom faine I would haue taken from the tombe, 190
Which she refused seeing Romeo dead.
Anone I heard the watch and then I fled,
What after happened I am ignorant of.
And if in this ought haue miscaried.
By me, or by my meanes let my old life 195
Be sacrificd some houre before his time.
To the most strickest rigor of the Law.
Pry: We still haue knowne thee for a holy man,
Wheres Romeos man, what can he say in this?
Balth: I brought my maister word that shee was dead, 200
And then he poasted straight from Mantua,
Vnto this Toombe. These Letters he deliuered me,
Charging me early giue them to his Father.
Prin: Lets see the Letters, I will read them ouer.
Where is the Counties Boy that calld the Watch? 205
Boy: I brought my Master vnto Juliets graue,
But one approaching, straight I calld my Master.
At last they fought, I ran to call the Watch.
And this is all that I can say or know.
Prin: These letters doe make good the Fryers wordes, 210
Come Capolet, and come olde Mountagewe.
Where are these enemies? see what hate hath done.
Cap: Come brother Mountague giue me thy hand,
There is my daughters dowry: for now no more
Can I bestowe on her, thats all I haue. 215
Moun: But I will giue them more, I will erect
Her statue of pure golde:
That while Verona by that name is knowne.
There shall no statue of such price be set,
As that of Romeos loued Iuliet. 220
Cap: As rich shall Romeo by his Lady lie.
Poore Sacrifices to our Enmitie.
Prin: A gloomie peace this day doth with it bring.
Come, let vs hence,
To haue more talke of these sad things. 225
Some shall be pardoned and some punished:
For nere was heard a Storie of more woe,
Than this of Iuliet and her Romeo.
FINIS.
TIMON OF ATHENS.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[1596].
| Timon, a noble Athenian. |
| Lucius, |
flattering lords. |
| Lucullus, |
| Sempronius, |
| Ventidius, one of Timon's false friends. |
| Alcibiades, an Athenian captain. |
| Apemantus, a churlish philosopher. |
| Flavius, steward to Timon. |
| Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant. |
| An old Athenian. |
| Flaminius, |
servants to Timon. |
| Lucilius, |
| Servilius, |
| Caphis, |
servants to Timon's creditors and to the Lords. |
| Philotus, |
| Titus, |
| Hortensius, |
| And others, |
| A Page. A Fool. Three Strangers. |
|
| Phrynia, |
mistresses to Alcibiades. |
| Timandra, |
|
| Cupid and Amazons in the mask. |
|
| Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Banditti, and Attendants. |
Scene: Athens, and the neighbouring woods.
THE LIFE OF
TIMON OF ATHENS.
ACT I.
Scene I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house.[1597]
Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors.[1598]
Pain. I am glad you're well.[1599]
Poet. I have not seen you long: how goes the world?[1601]
Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.
Poet. Ay, that's well known:
But what particular rarity? what strange,[1602]
Which manifold record not matches? See,[1603][1604] 5
Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power[1604]
Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.[1605]
Pain. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.
Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord!
Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.
Mer. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,[1606] 10
To an untirable and continuate goodness:[1607]
He passes.[1607][1608]
Jew. I have a jewel here—[1609]
Mer. O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?[1610]
Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for that— 15
Poet. [Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have praised the vile,[1611]
It stains the glory in that happy verse
Which aptly sings the good.'
Mer. [Looking on the jewel] 'Tis a good form.[1612]
Jew. And rich: here is a water, look ye.[1613] 20
Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me.
Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes[1617]
From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint
Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame[1618] 25
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies[1619]
Each bound it chafes. What have you there?[1619][1620][1621]
Pain. A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?[1621][1622]
Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.[1621]
Let's see your piece.[1621] 30
Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.[1624]
Pain. Indifferent.
Poet. Admirable: how this grace[1625]
Speaks his own standing! what a mental power[1625]
This eye shoots forth! how big imagination 35
Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture
One might interpret.
Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life.
Here is a touch; is't good?
Poet. I will say of it,[1626]
It tutors nature: artificial strife 40
Lives in these touches, livelier than life.[1627]
Enter certain Senators, and pass over.