Frier. Arise one knockes, Good Romeo hide thy selfe

Rom. Not I, Vnlesse the breath of Hartsicke groanes Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.

Knocke

Fri. Harke how they knocke: (Who's there) Romeo arise, Thou wilt be taken, stay a while, stand vp:

Knocke.

Run to my study: by and by, Gods will What simplenesse is this: I come, I come.

Knocke.

Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? what's your will? Enter Nurse.

Nur. Let me come in, And you shall know my errand: I come from Lady Iuliet

Fri. Welcome then

Nur. O holy Frier, O tell me holy Frier, Where's my Ladies Lord? where's Romeo? Fri. There on the ground, With his owne teares made drunke

Nur. O he is euen in my Mistresse case, Iust in her case. O wofull simpathy: Pittious predicament, euen so lies she, Blubbring and weeping, weeping and blubbring, Stand vp, stand vp, stand and you be a man, For Iuliets sake, for her sake rise and stand: Why should you fall into so deepe an O

Rom. Nurse

Nur. Ah sir, ah sir, deaths the end of all

Rom. Speak'st thou of Iuliet? how is it with her? Doth not she thinke me an old Murtherer, Now I haue stain'd the Childhood of our ioy, With blood remoued, but little from her owne? Where is she? and how doth she? and what sayes My conceal'd Lady to our conceal'd Loue? Nur. Oh she sayes nothing sir, but weeps and weeps, And now fals on her bed, and then starts vp, And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries, And then downe falls againe

Ro. As if that name shot from the dead leuell of a Gun, Did murder her, as that names cursed hand Murdred her kinsman. Oh tell me Frier, tell me, In what vile part of this Anatomie Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sacke The hatefull Mansion

Fri. Hold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy forme cries out thou art: Thy teares are womanish, thy wild acts denote The vnreasonable Furie of a beast. Vnseemely woman, in a seeming man, And ill beseeming beast in seeming both, Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper'd. Hast thou slaine Tybalt? wilt thou slay thy selfe? And slay thy Lady, that in thy life lies, By doing damned hate vpon thy selfe? Why rayl'st thou on thy birth? the heauen and earth? Since birth, and heauen and earth, all three do meete In thee at once, which thou at once would'st loose. Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy loue, thy wit, Which like a Vsurer abound'st in all: And vsest none in that true vse indeed, Which should bedecke thy shape, thy loue, thy wit: Thy Noble shape, is but a forme of waxe, Digressing from the Valour of a man, Thy deare Loue sworne but hollow periurie, Killing that Loue which thou hast vow'd to cherish. Thy wit, that Ornament, to shape and Loue, Mishapen in the conduct of them both: Like powder in a skillesse Souldiers flaske, Is set a fire by thine owne ignorance, And thou dismembred with thine owne defence. What, rowse thee man, thy Iuliet is aliue, For whose deare sake thou wast but lately dead. There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt, there art thou happie. The law that threatned death became thy Friend. And turn'd it to exile, there art thou happy. A packe or blessing light vpon thy backe, Happinesse Courts thee in her best array, But like a mishaped and sullen wench, Thou puttest vp thy Fortune and thy Loue: Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Goe get thee to thy Loue as was decreed, Ascend her Chamber, hence and comfort her: But looke thou stay not till the watch be set, For then thou canst not passe to Mantua, Where thou shalt liue till we can finde a time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your Friends, Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee backe, With twenty hundred thousand times more ioy Then thou went'st forth in lamentation. Goe before Nurse, commend me to thy Lady, And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heauy sorrow makes them apt vnto. Romeo is comming

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-vit 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