Act III, Scene II — Another part of the wood.…

Act III, Scene II — Another part of the wood.

Enter OBERON.

Obe. I wonder if Titania be awaked; Then, what it was that next came in her eye, Which she must dote on in extremity.

Enter PUCK.

Here comes my messenger. How now, mad spirit! What night-rule now about this haunted grove? 5

Puck. My mistress with a monster is in love. Near to her close and consecrated bower, While she was in her dull and sleeping hour, A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, That work for bread upon Athenian stalls, 10 Were met together to rehearse a play, Intended for great Theseus’ nuptial-day. The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort, Who Pyramus presented, in their sport Forsook his scene, and enter’d in a brake: 15 When I did him at this advantage take, An ass’s nole I fixed on his head: Anon his Thisbe must be answered, And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy, As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye, 20 Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun’s report, Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky, So, at his sight, away his fellows fly; And, at our stamp, here o’er and o’er one falls; 25 He murder cries, and help from Athens calls. Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong, Made senseless things begin to do them wrong; For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch; Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch. 30 I led them on in this distracted fear, And left sweet Pyramus translated there: When in that moment, so it came to pass, Titania waked, and straightway loved an ass.

Obe. This falls out better than I could devise. 35 But hast thou yet latch’d the Athenian’s eyes With the love-juice, as I did bid thee do?

Puck. I took him sleeping,—that is finish’d too,— And the Athenian woman by his side; That, when he waked, of force she must be eyed. 40

Enter HERMIA and DEMETRIUS.

Obe. Stand close: this is the same Athenian.

Puck. This is the woman, but not this the man.

Dem. O, why rebuke you him that loves you so? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.

Her. Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse, 45 For thou, I fear, hast given me cause to curse. If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep, Being o’er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep, And kill me too. The sun was not so true unto the day 50 As he to me: would he have stolen away From sleeping Hermia? I’ll believe as soon This whole earth may be bored, and that the moon May through the centre creep, and so displease Her brother’s noontide with the Antipodes. 55 It cannot be but thou hast murder’d him; So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

Dem. So should the murder’d look; and so should I, Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty: Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, 60 As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.

Her. What’s this to my Lysander? where is he? Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

Dem. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.

Her. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds 65 Of maiden’s patience. Hast thou slain him, then? Henceforth be never number’d among men! O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake! Durst thou have look’d upon him being awake, And hast thou kill’d him sleeping? O brave touch! 70 Could not a worm, an adder, do so much? An adder did it; for with doubler tongue Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

Dem. You spend your passion on a misprised mood: I am not guilty of Lysander’s blood; 75 Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.

Her. I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.

Dem. An if I could, what should I get therefore?

Her. A privilege, never to see me more. And from thy hated presence part I so: 80 See me no more, whether he be dead or no. [Exit.

Dem. There is no following her in this fierce vein: Here therefore for a while I will remain. So sorrow’s heaviness doth heavier grow For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe; 85 Which now in some slight measure it will pay, If for his tender here I make some stay.

[Lies down and sleeps.

Obe. What hast thou done? thou hast mistaken quite, And laid the love-juice on some true-love’s sight: Of thy misprision must perforce ensue 90 Some true love turn’d, and not a false turn’d true.

Puck. Then fate o’er-rules, that, one man holding troth, A million fail, confounding oath on oath.

Obe. About the wood go swifter than the wind, And Helena of Athens look thou find: 95 All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, With sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear: By some illusion see thou bring her here: I’ll charm his eyes against she do appear.

Puck. I go, I go; look how I go, 100 Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow. [Exit.

Obe. Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid’s archery, Sink in apple of his eye. When his love he doth espy, 105 Let her shine as gloriously As the Venus of the sky. When thou wakest, if she be by, Beg of her for remedy.

Re-enter PUCK.

Puck. Captain of our fairy band, 110 Helena is here at hand; And the youth, mistook by me, Pleading for a lover’s fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! 115

Obe. Stand aside: the noise they make Will cause Demetrius to awake.

Puck. Then will two at once woo one; That must needs be sport alone; And those things do best please me 120 That befal preposterously.

Enter LYSANDER and HELENA.

Lys. Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. 125 How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?

Hel. You do advance your cunning more and more. When truth kills truth, O devilish-holy fray! These vows are Hermia’s: will you give her o’er? 130 Weigh oath with oath, and you will nothing weigh: Your vows to her and me, put in two scales, Will even weigh; and both as light as tales.

Lys. I had no judgement when to her I swore.

Hel. Nor none, in my mind, now you give her o’er. 135

Lys. Demetrius loves her, and he loves not you.

Dem. [Awaking] O Helen, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow! 140 That pure congealed white, high Taurus’ snow, Fann’d with the eastern wind, turns to a crow When thou hold’st up thy hand: O, let me kiss This princess of pure white, this seal of bliss!

Hel. O spite! O hell! I see you all are bent 145 To set against me for your merriment: If you were civil and knew courtesy, You would not do me thus much injury. Can you not hate me, as I know you do, But you must join in souls to mock me too? 150 If you were men, as men you are in show, You would not use a gentle lady so; To vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When I am sure you hate me with your hearts. You both are rivals, and love Hermia; 155 And now both rivals, to mock Helena: A trim exploit, a manly enterprise, To conjure tears up in a poor maid’s eyes With your derision! none of noble sort Would so offend a virgin, and extort 160 A poor soul’s patience, all to make you sport.

Lys. You are unkind, Demetrius; be not so; For you love Hermia; this you know I know: And here, with all good will, with all my heart, In Hermia’s love I yield you up my part; 165 And yours of Helena to me bequeath, Whom I do love, and will do till my death.

Hel. Never did mockers waste more idle breath.

Dem. Lysander, keep thy Hermia; I will none: If e’er I loved her, all that love is gone. 170 My heart to her but as guest-wise sojourn’d, And now to Helen is it home return’d, There to remain.

Lys. Helen, it is not so.

Dem. Disparage not the faith thou dost not know, Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear. 175 Look, where thy love comes; yonder is thy dear.

Re-enter HERMIA.

Her. Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompense. 180 Thou art not by mine eye, Lysander, found; Mine ear, I thank it, brought me to thy sound. But why unkindly didst thou leave me so?

Lys. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?

Her. What love could press Lysander from my side? 185

Lys. Lysander’s love, that would not let him bide, Fair Helena, who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light. Why seek’st thou me? could not this make thee know, The hate I bear thee made me leave thee so? 190

Her. You speak not as you think: it cannot be.

Hel. Lo, she is one of this confederacy! Now I perceive they have conjoin’d all three To fashion this false sport, in spite of me. Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid! 195 Have you conspired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel that we two have shared, The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent, When we have chid the hasty-footed time 200 For parting us,—O, is all forgot? All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 205 Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted; But yet an union in partition, 210 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem; So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. And will you rent our ancient love asunder, 215 To join with men in scorning your poor friend? It is not friendly, ’tis not maidenly: Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it, Though I alone do feel the injury.

Her. I am amazed at your passionate words. 220 I scorn you not: it seems that you scorn me.

Hel. Have you not set Lysander, as in scorn, To follow me and praise my eyes and face? And made your other love, Demetrius, Who even but now did spurn me with his foot, 225 To call me goddess, nymph, divine and rare, Precious, celestial? Wherefore speaks he this To her he hates? and wherefore doth Lysander Deny your love, so rich within his soul, And tender me, forsooth, affection, 230 But by your setting on, by your consent? What though I be not so in grace as you, So hung upon with love, so fortunate, But miserable most, to love unloved? This you should pity rather than despise. 235

Her. I understand not what you mean by this.

Hel. Ay, do, persever, counterfeit sad looks, Make mouths upon me when I turn my back; Wink each at other; hold the sweet jest up: This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled. 240 If you have any pity, grace, or manners, You would not make me such an argument. But fare ye well: ’tis partly my own fault; Which death or absence soon shall remedy.

Lys. Stay, gentle Helena; hear my excuse: 245 My love, my life, my soul, fair Helena!

Hel. O excellent!

Her. Sweet, do not scorn her so.

Dem. If she cannot entreat, I can compel.

Lys. Thou canst compel no more than she entreat: Thy threats have no more strength than her weak prayers. 250 Helen, I love thee; by my life, I do: I swear by that which I will lose for thee, To prove him false that says I love thee not.

Dem. I say I love thee more than he can do.

Lys. If thou say so, withdraw, and prove it too. 255

Dem. Quick, come!

Her. Lysander, whereto tends all this?

Lys. Away, you Ethiope!

Dem. No, no; he’ll ... Seem to break loose; take on as you would follow, But yet come not: you are a tame man, go!

Lys. Hang off, thou cat, thou burr! vile thing, let loose, 260 Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent!

Her. Why are you grown so rude? what change is this? Sweet love,—

Lys. Thy love! out, tawny Tartar, out! Out, loathed medicine! hated potion, hence!

Her. Do you not jest?

Hel. Yes, sooth; and so do you. 265

Lys. Demetrius, I will keep my word with thee.

Dem. I would I had your bond, for I perceive A weak bond holds you: I’ll not trust your word.

Lys. What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead? Although I hate her, I’ll not harm her so. 270

Her. What, can you do me greater harm than hate? Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love! Am not I Hermia? are not you Lysander? I am as fair now as I was erewhile. Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me: 275 Why, then you left me,—O, the gods forbid!— In earnest, shall I say?

Lys. Ay, by my life; And never did desire to see thee more. Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt; Be certain, nothing truer; ’tis no jest 280 That I do hate thee, and love Helena.

Her. O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief of love! what, have you come by night And stolen my love’s heart from him?

Hel. Fine, i’faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, 285 No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you!

Her. Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare 290 Between our statures; she hath urged her height; And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail’d with him. And are you grown so high in his esteem, Because I am so dwarfish and so low? 295 How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak; How low am I? I am not yet so low But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me: I was never curst; 300 I have no gift at all in shrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice: Let her not strike me. You perhaps may think, Because she is something lower than myself, That I can match her.

Her. Lower! hark, again. 305

Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wrong’d you; Save that, in love unto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. 310 He follow’d you; for love I follow’d him; But he hath chid me hence, and threaten’d me To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too: And now, so you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I bear my folly back, 315 And follow you no further: let me go: You see how simple and how fond I am.

Her. Why, get you gone: who is’t that hinders you?

Hel. A foolish heart, that I leave here behind.

Her. What, with Lysander?

Hel. With Demetrius. 320

Lys. Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.

Dem. No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part.

Hel. O, when she’s angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce. 325

Her. Little again! nothing but low and little! Why will you suffer her to flout me thus? Let me come to her.

Lys. Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus, of hindering knot-grass made; You bead, you acorn.

Dem. You are too officious 330 In her behalf that scorns your services. Let her alone: speak not of Helena; Take not her part; for, if thou dost intend Never so little show of love to her, Thou shalt aby it.

Lys. Now she holds me not; 335 Now follow, if thou darest, to try whose right, Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.

Dem. Follow! nay, I’ll go with thee, cheek by jole.

[Exeunt Lysander and Demetrius.

Her. You, mistress, all this coil is ’long of you: Nay, go not back.

Hel. I will not trust you, I, 340 Nor longer stay in your curst company. Your hands than mine are quicker for a fray, My legs are longer though, to run away. [Exit.

Her. I am amazed, and know not what to say. [Exit.

Obe. This is thy negligence: still thou mistakest, 345 Or else committ’st thy knaveries wilfully.

Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the man By the Athenian garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprise, 350 That I have ’nointed an Athenian’s eyes; And so far am I glad it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport.

Obe. Thou see’st these lovers seek a place to fight: Hie therefore, Robin, overcast the night; 355 The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog, as black as Acheron; And lead these testy rivals so astray, As one come not within another’s way. Like to Lysander sometime frame thy tongue, 360 Then stir Demetrius up with bitter wrong; And sometime rail thou like Demetrius; And from each other look thou lead them thus. Till o’er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: 365 Then crush this herb into Lysander’s eye; Whose liquor hath this virtuous property, To take from thence all error with his might, And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight. When they next wake, all this derision 370 Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision; And back to Athens shall the lovers wend, With league whose date till death shall never end. Whiles I in this affair do thee employ, I’ll to my queen and beg her Indian boy; 375 And then I will her charmed eye release From monster’s view, and all things shall be peace.

Puck. My fairy lord, this must be done with haste, For night’s swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora’s harbinger; 380 At whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all, That in crossways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone; For fear lest day should look their shames upon, 385 They wilfully themselves exile from light, And must for aye consort with black-brow’d night.

Obe. But we are spirits of another sort: I with the morning’s love have oft made sport; And, like a forester, the groves may tread, 390 Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red, Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams, Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. But, notwithstanding, haste; make no delay: We may effect this business yet ere day. [Exit. 395

Puck. Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down: I am fear’d in field and town: Goblin, lead them up and down. Here comes one. 400

Re-enter LYSANDER.

Lys. Where art thou, proud Demetrius? speak thou now.

Puck. Here, villain; drawn and ready. Where art thou?

Lys. I will be with thee straight.

Puck. Follow me, then, To plainer ground. [Exit Lysander, as following the voice.

Re-enter DEMETRIUS.

Dem. Lysander! speak again: Thou runaway, thou coward, art thou fled? 405 Speak! In some bush? Where dost thou hide thy head?

Puck. Thou coward, art thou bragging to the stars, Telling the bushes that thou look’st for wars, And wilt not come? Come, recreant; come, thou child; I’ll whip thee with a rod: he is defiled 410 That draws a sword on thee.

Dem. Yea, art thou there?

Puck. Follow my voice: we’ll try no manhood here.

[Exeunt.

Re-enter LYSANDER.

Lys. He goes before me and still dares me on: When I come where he calls, then he is gone. The villain is much lighter-heel’d than I: 415 I follow’d fast, but faster he did fly; That fallen am I in dark uneven way, And here will rest me. [Lies down.] Come, thou gentle day! For if but once thou show me thy grey light, I’ll find Demetrius, and revenge this spite. [Sleeps. 420

Re-enter PUCK and DEMETRIUS.

Puck. Ho, ho, ho! Coward, why comest thou not?

Dem. Abide me, if thou darest; for well I wot Thou runn’st before me, shifting every place, And darest not stand, nor look me in the face. Where art thou now?

Puck. Come hither: I am here. 425

Dem. Nay, then, thou mock’st me. Thou shalt buy this dear, If ever I thy face by daylight see: Now, go thy way. Faintness constraineth me To measure out my length on this cold bed. By day’s approach look to be visited. [Lies down and sleeps. 430

Re-enter HELENA.

Hel. O weary night, O long and tedious night, Abate thy hours! Shine comforts from the east, That I may back to Athens by daylight, From these that my poor company detest: And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, 435 Steal me awhile from mine own company.

[Lies down and sleeps.

Puck. Yet but three? Come one more; Two of both kinds makes up four. Here she comes, curst and sad: Cupid is a knavish lad, 440 Thus to make poor females mad.

Re-enter HERMIA.

Her. Never so weary, never so in woe; Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers; I can no further crawl, no further go; My legs can keep no pace with my desires. 445 Here will I rest me till the break of day. Heavens shield Lysander, if they mean a fray!

[Lies down and sleeps.

Puck. On the ground Sleep sound: I’ll apply 450 To your eye, Gentle lover, remedy. [Squeezing the juice on Lysander’s eyes. When thou wakest, Thou takest True delight 455 In the sight Of thy former lady’s eye: And the country proverb known, That every man should take his own, In your waking shall be shown: 460 Jack shall have Jill; Nought shall go ill; The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.

[Exit.

~~~~~ Linenotes: A Midsummer-Night’s Dream, III, 2.

Act III, Scene II — ] SCENE IV. Pope

Enter Oberon.] Enter King of Fairies and Robin Goodfellow. Qq. Enter King of Fairies (Pharies F1), solus Ff.

3: Enter Puck.] Ff. om. Qq.

4: spirit] sprite Pope.

5: haunted] gaunted F1.

6, 7: love. Near...bower,] Rowe. love, Neare...bower. Q1 love, Neere...bower, Q2 Ff.

13: thick-skin] thick-skull Hanmer.

17: nole] nowl Johnson.

19: mimic] Mimmick F1 F2 F3. Mimick F4. Minnick Q1. Minnock Q2. mammock Ritson conj.

21: russet-pated] Q1 F4. russed-pated Q2 F1 F2 F3.

25: our stamp] a stump Johnson (Theobald conj.).

30: yielders] F3 F4. yeelders Qq F1 F2.

36: latch’d] latcht Q1 F3 F4. lacht Q2 F1 F2. lech’d Hanmer. laced Anon. conj.

40: waked] wak’t Qq Ff. wakes Pope.

41: SCENE V. Pope.

48, 49: Being...too] Printed as one line in Qq Ff. Corrected by Rowe (ed. 2).

48: the deep] knee deep Phelps (Coleridge conj.).

52: From] Frow Q1.

54: displease] disease Hanmer.

55: with the] i’ th’ Warburton.

57: dead] dread Pope.

58: murder’d] murthered Q1. murdered Q2. murderer Ff.

60: look] looke Qq. looks Ff.

64: I had] Q1. Ide Q2. I’de Ff. I’d Rowe. I’ad Pope.

65: bounds] bonds Q2.

68: tell true, tell true] Q1. tell true Q2 F1. tell true, and F2 F3 F4.

69: have] Qq. a Ff.

70: touch] tutch Qq Ff.

72: An] And F2.

74: on] in Steevens conj.

on a misprised mood] in a misprised flood Collier MS.

80, 81: part I so: See me no more, whether] Pope. part I: see me no more; Whether Qq Ff.

85: sleep] Rowe. slippe Q1. slip Q2 Ff.

87: [Lies down and sleeps.] Collier. [Ly doune. Q1. [Lie downe. Q2 Ff.

88: SCENE VI. Pope.

94: Obe.] Ob. Qq F1 F3 F4. Rob. F2.

97: costs] Qq Ff. cost Hanmer.

99: do] Qq. doth Ff.

100: look] look, master, Hanmer.

101: [Exit] Q2 Ff. om. Q1.

109: her] her, Q1.

122: SCENE VII. Pope.

123: come] Qq. comes Ff.

137: [Awaking.] om. Qq. Awa. Ff (at the end of line 136).

143, 144: O...white, this] This...white—O Becket conj.

144: princess] pureness Hanmer. impress Collier MS.

145: all are] Qq. are all Ff.

150: you must join in souls] you must join in flouts Hanmer. must join insolents Warburton. you must join in soul Mason conj. you must join, ill souls, Tyrwhitt conj.

151: were] Qq. are Ff.

164: here] heare Q1.

166: of] in Collier (Collier MS.).

167: will do] will love Edd. conj.

till] Q1. to Q2 Ff.

171: to her] with her Johnson.

172: is it] Q1. it is Q2 Ff.

173: There] There ever Pope.

Helen,] Q1. om. Q2 Ff.

175: aby] Q1. abide Q2 Ff.

dear] here S. Walker conj.

177: SCENE VIII. Pope.

182: thy] Qq. that Ff.

188: oes] orbs Grey conj.

190: bear] F4. bare Qq F1 F2 F3.

199: sisters’] sisters Qq Ff. sister Capell.

201: O, is all] Qq F1. O, and is all F2 F3 F4. O, is all now Malone. O, now is all Reed. O, is it all Spedding conj.

202: school-days’] school-day Capell.

childhood] childhoods F3 F4.

204: Have...created both] Created with our needles both Pope. See note (V).

needles] neelds Steevens.

210: yet] om. F3 F4.

an] Qq F4. a F1 F2 F3.

211: lovely] loving Collier MS.

213: first, like] Theobald (Folkes conj.). first life Qq Ff.

213, 214: Omitted in Collier MS.

215: rent] rend Rowe.

218: for it] for’t S. Walker conj.

220: I am amazed at your passionate words] Ff. I am amazed at your words Qq. Helen, I am amazed at your words Pope.

237: Ay, do, persever] I do, persever Q2 Ff. I doe. Persever Q1. Ay, do, persevere Rowe.

238: Make mouths] Make mows Steevens.

241: have] had Collier (Collier MS.).

243: my] Q1. mine Q2 Ff.

246: my life] Qq F1. omitted in F2 F3 F4.

250: prayers] Theobald. praise Qq Ff. prays Capell (Theobald conj.).

257: Ethiope] Ethiope you Heath conj.

257, 258: No, no; He’ll...Seem to break loose] Edd. No, no; heele Seeme to breake loose Q1. No, no, hee’l seeme to breake loose (as one line) Q2. No, no, sir, seem to break loose (as one line) Ff. No, no he’ll seem To break away Pope. No, no; he’ll not come.—Seem to break loose Capell. No, no; he’ll—sir, Seem to break loose Malone. No, no; sir:—he will Seem to break loose Steevens. No, no, he’ll not stir: Seem to break loose Jackson conj. See note (III).

258: you] he Pope.

260: burr] bur Qq F1. but F2 F3 F4.

264: hated] Pope. O hated Qq Ff.

potion] Q1. poison Q2 Ff.

271: hate] harm F4.

272: news] means Singer (Collier MS.)

279: of doubt] doubt Pope. om. Anon conj.

282: juggler! you] jugler, you! you Capell.

289: why so?] Qq Ff. why, so: Theobald.

way goes] ways go Rowe.

292: tall personage] tall parsonage Q2.

299: gentlemen] gentleman Q1.

304: she is] Qq F1 F2 F3. she’s F4.

320: Hel.] Her. F1 F2.

321: shall] will F4.

Helena] Helen Anon. conj.

323: she’s] Q2 Ff. she is Q1.

329: You minimus] You minim, you Theobald conj.

335: aby] Q1. abie Q2. abide Ff.

337: Of] Or Theobald. See note (IV).

Of...mine] Of mine or thine Malone conj.

340: you, I] you Rowe (ed. 1).

344: I...say] omitted in Ff.

[Exit.] Exit pursuing Helena. Malone.

345: SCENE IX. Pope.

Enter Oberon and Puck. Ff.

346: wilfully] Qq. willingly Ff.

349: had] Q1. hath Q2 Ff.

351: ’nointed] nointed Qq Ff.

352: so did] did so Rowe.

357: fog] fogs Warburton.

368: his] its Rowe.

374: employ] imploy Q1 F4. apply Q2. imply F1 F2 F3.

379: night’s swift] Q1. night swift Q2. night-swift F1. nights-swift F2 F3 F4.

386: exile] exil’d Theobald conj., making Oberon’s speech begin with this line.

389: morning’s love] Qq F1. morning love F2 F3 F4. morning-love Rowe (ed. 1). morning-light Id. (ed. 2).

392: fair blessed] far-blessing Hanmer (Warburton).

393: salt green] sea-green Grey conj.

394: notwithstanding,] Q1. not-withstanding Q2 Ff.

396, 437, 448: Puck.] Puck [sings]. Anon. conj.

406: Speak! In some bush?] Capell. Speak in some bush. Qq. Speak in some bush: Ff.

413: Re-enter...] om. Qq Ff.

414: calls, then he is] Q1. call’s then he’s Q2 F1. calls me, then he’s F2 F3 F4.

416: [Shifting places. Ff.

418: [Lies down.] Lie down. Ff. om. Qq.

420: [Sleeps.] Capell.

421: Ho, ho, ho!] Ho, ho; ho, ho! Capell.

425: now] Q1. om. Q2 Ff.

426: buy] Qq Ff. ’by Collier (Johnson conj.).

430: [Lies...] Capell.

431: SCENE X. Pope.

432: Shine comforts] Q2 Ff. Shine comforts, Q1. Shine, comforts, Theobald.

435: sometimes] Qq F3 F4. sometime F1 F2.

436: [Lies...] Sleep. Qq Ff.

437: three?] three here? Hanmer.

438: makes] Qq F1 F2 F4. make F3.

439: comes] cometh Hanmer.

442: Re-enter...] Enter H. after line 440. F1 F2.

447: Heavens] Heaven Anon. conj.

[Lies...] om. Qq Ff.

449: Sleep] Sleep thou Capell. Sleep you Seymour conj.

451: To your eye] Rowe. your eye Qq Ff.

452: [Squeezing...] Rowe.

454: Thou] Then thou Seymour conj. See thou Tyrwhitt conj.

takest] Qq F1 F4. rak’st F2 F3.

463: well] still Steevens conj.

[They sleep all the Act. Ff. ~~~~~

Act IV, Scene I — The same. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA lying asleep

Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM; PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and other Fairies attending; OBERON behind unseen.

Tita. Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Bot. Where’s Peaseblossom? 5

Peas. Ready.

Bot. Scratch my head, Peaseblossom. Where’s Mounsieur Cobweb?

Cob. Ready.

Bot. Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your 10 weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loth to have you overflown with a 15 honey-bag, signior. Where’s Mounsieur Mustardseed.

Mus. Ready.

Bot. Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.

Mus. What’s your will? 20

Bot. Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s, mounsieur; for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Tita. What, wilt thou hear some music, my sweet love? 25

Bot. I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s have the tongs and the bones.

Tita. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.

Bot. Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle 30 of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Tita. I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Bot. I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me: I have an 35 exposition of sleep come upon me.

Tita. Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. Fairies, be gone, and be all ways away. [Exeunt Fairies. So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist; the female ivy so 40 Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee! [They sleep.

Enter PUCK.

Obe. [Advancing] Welcome, good Robin. See’st thou this sweet sight? Her dotage now I do begin to pity: For, meeting her of late behind the wood, 45 Seeking sweet favours for this hateful fool, I did upbraid her, and fall out with her; For she his hairy temples then had rounded With coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers; And that same dew, which sometime on the buds 50 Was wont to swell, like round and orient pearls, Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes, Like tears, that did their own disgrace bewail. When I had at my pleasure taunted her, And she in mild terms begg’d my patience, 55 I then did ask of her her changeling child; Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent To bear him to my bower in fairy land. And now I have the boy, I will undo This hateful imperfection of her eyes: 60 And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp From off the head of this Athenian swain; That, he awaking when the other do, May all to Athens back again repair, And think no more of this night’s accidents, 65 But as the fierce vexation of a dream. But first I will release the fairy queen. Be as thou wast wont to be; See as thou wast wont to see: Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower 70 Hath such force and blessed power. Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamour’d of an ass.

Obe. There lies your love.

Tita. How came these things to pass? 75 O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

Obe. Silence awhile. Robin, take off this head. Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep of all these five the sense.

Tita. Music, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! 80

[Music, still.

Puck. Now, when thou wakest, with thine own fool’s eyes peep.

Obe. Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me, And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be. Now thou and I are new in amity, And will to-morrow midnight solemnly 85 Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly, And bless it to all fair prosperity: There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Puck. Fairy king, attend, and mark: 90 I do hear the morning lark.

Obe. Then, my queen, in silence sad, Trip we after the night’s shade: We the globe can compass soon, Swifter than the wandering moon. 95

Tita. Come, my lord; and in our flight, Tell me how it came this night, That I sleeping here was found With these mortals on the ground. [Exeunt.

[Horns winded within.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train.

The. Go, one of you, find out the forester; 100 For now our observation is perform’d; And since we have the vaward of the day, My love shall hear the music of my hounds. Uncouple in the western valley; let them go: Dispatch, I say, and find the forester. [Exit an Attend. 105 We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top, And mark the musical confusion Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Hip. I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear 110 With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem’d all one mutual cry: I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. 115

The. My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew’d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew; Crook-knee’d, and dew-lapp’d like Thessalian bulls; Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells, 120 Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla’d to, nor cheer’d with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly: Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these?

Ege. My lord, this is my daughter here asleep; 125 And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is; This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena: I wonder of their being here together.

The. No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, 130 Came here in grace of our solemnity. But speak, Egeus; is not this the day That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

Ege. It is, my lord.

The. Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns. 135 [_Horns and shout within. Lys., Dem., Hel., and Her., wake and start up._ Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past: Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Lys. Pardon, my lord.

The. I pray you all, stand up. I know you two are rival enemies: How comes this gentle concord in the world, 140 That hatred is so far from jealousy, To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Lys. My lord, I shall reply amazedly, Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear, I cannot truly say how I came here; 145 But, as I think,—for truly would I speak, And now I do bethink me, so it is,— I came with Hermia hither: our intent Was to be gone from Athens, where we might, Without the peril of the Athenian law. 150

Ege. Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough: I beg the law, the law, upon his head. They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius, Thereby to have defeated you and me, You of your wife and me of my consent, 155 Of my consent that she should be your wife.

Dem. My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth, Of this their purpose hither to this wood; And I in fury hither follow’d them, Fair Helena in fancy following me. 160 But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,— But by some power it is,—my love to Hermia, Melted as the snow, seems to me now As the remembrance of an idle gaud, Which in my childhood I did dote upon; 165 And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object and the pleasure of mine eye, Is only Helena. To her, my lord, Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia: But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food; 170 But, as in health, come to my natural taste, Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will for evermore be true to it.

The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met: Of this discourse we more will hear anon. 175 Egeus, I will overbear your will; For in the temple, by and by, with us These couples shall eternally be knit: And, for the morning now is something worn, Our purposed hunting shall be set aside. 180 Away with us to Athens! three and three, We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity. Come, Hippolyta. [Exeunt The., Hip., Ege., and train.

Dem. These things seem small and undistinguishable, Like far-off mountains turned into clouds. 185

Her. Methinks I see these things with parted eye, When every thing seems double.

Hel. So methinks: And I have found Demetrius like a jewel, Mine own, and not mine own.

Dem. Are you sure That we are awake? It seems to me 190 That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think The Duke was here, and bid us follow him?

Her. Yea; and my father.

Hel. And Hippolyta.

Lys. And he did bid us follow to the temple.

Dem. Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him; 195 And by the way let us recount our dreams. [Exeunt.

Bot. [Awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, ‘Most fair Pyramus.’ Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life, stolen hence, and left 200 me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was—there is no man can tell what. Methought I was.—and methought I had,—but man is but a patched 205 fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom’s 210 Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the Duke: peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death. [Exit.

~~~~~ Linenotes: A Midsummer-Night’s Dream, IV, 1.

IV. ] See note (VI)

Enter...] Enter Queen of Fairies, and Clown, and Fairies, and the King behind them. Qq Ff.

7: Mounsieur] Qq Ff. Monsieur Rowe. See note (VII).

10: get you] Q1. get Q2 Ff.

18: your] thy Pope.

neaf] neafe Qq F1. newfe F2. newse F3. news F4.

Mustardseed] Qq F1 F2. Mustard F3 F4.

21: Cavalery] Qq F1. Cavalero F2 F3 F4.

22: Cobweb] Peas-blossom Grey conj.

23: marvellous] marvailes Q1 marvels Capell. See note (II).

24: do] doth Rowe (ed. 2).

25: some] some some Q2.

26: Let’s] Q1. Let us Q2 Ff.

27: tongs] tongues F2.

Musick Tongs, Rural Musick. Ff. om. Q1.

32, 33: Printed in Q2 Ff as three lines ending fairy...hoard...nuts.

33: hoard] Q2 Ff. om. Q1.

thee] thee thence Hanmer. thee the S. Walker conj.

38: all ways] Theobald. alwaies Qq F1. alwayes F2 F3. always F4. a while Hanmer.

all ways away] away—away Upton conj. always i’ th’ way Heath conj.

39: Qq and Ff punctuate woodbine,...honisuckle,...entwist;

woodbine] woodrine Upton conj. weedbind Steevens conj.

40: entwist; the female] entwist the maple; Warburton conj.

40, 41: entwist;......Enrings] entwist,...Enring, Capell.

46: favours] Q1 F4. savours Q2 F1 F2 F3.

52: flowerets’] flouriets Qq Ff.

57: fairy] Qq Ff. fairies Dyce.

62: this] the Johnson.

63: other] others Rowe.

68: Be] Qq. Be thou Ff.

70: o’er] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). or Qq Ff.

76: do] Q1 F2 F3 F4. doth Q2 F1.

his] Q1. this Q2 Ff.

77: this] Qq. his Ff.

79: sleep of all these five] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). sleepe: of all these, fine Qq F1 F2. sleep; of all these find F3 F4. sleep. Of all these fine Rowe (ed. 2).

80: ho!] howe Q1.

81: Now, when thou wakest] Q1. When thou wak’st Q2 F1. When thou awak’st F2 F3 F4.

87: fair prosperity] Q1. fair posterity Q2 Ff. far posterity Hanmer.

88: the] Qq F1. these F2 F3 F4.

90: Fairy] Qq. Faire F1 F2. Fair F3 F4.

92: sad] fade Theobald.

93: the night’s] Rowe. the nights Q2 Ff. nights Q1.

98: After this line Ff give the stage direction [Sleepers lye still.

99: [Horns......within.] [Winde horne. Q1. [Winde hornes. Q2 Ff.

100. SCENE II. Pope.

104: let them] om. Pope.

110: bear] Qq Ff. boar Hanmer.

113: fountains] mountains Anon. ap. Theobald conj.

114: Seem’d] F2 F3 F4. Seeme Qq F1.

119: Thessalian] Thessalonian F4.

125: is] om. Q1.

127: Nedar’s] Nestor’s S. Walker conj.

128: of their] Q1. of this Q2 Ff. at their Pope.

130: rite] Pope. right Qq Ff.

136: [He and the rest kneel to Theseus. Capell.

141: is] is is F1.

149, 150: might,...law.] might...lawe, Q1. might be...law. Q2 Ff. might,...law,— Dyce. might Be without peril...law. Hanmer.

160: following] Q1. followed Q2 Ff.

162–164: Qq and Ff end the lines at love...snow...gaud.

163: Melted as] Is melted as Pope. Melted as doth Capell. All melted as Anon. conj.

169: saw Hermia] Steevens. see Hermia Qq Ff. did see Hermia Rowe (ed. 1). Hermia saw Rowe (ed. 2).

170: in sickness] Steevens (Farmer conj.). a sickness Qq Ff.

172: I do] Q1. do I Q2 Ff.

175: more will hear] Q1. will hear more Q2. shall hear more Ff.

183: Come, Hippolyta] Come, my Hippolita Capell.

184: Dem.] Lys. Capell conj.

[Exeunt...] Exit Duke and Lords. Ff.

188: like] om. Hanmer.

jewel] gemell Theobald (Warburton).

189, 190: Are you sure That we are awake?] Qq. omitted in Ff. But are you sure That we are well awake Capell. But are you sure That we are now awake Steevens conj. Are you sure That we are now awake Malone conj. Are you sure That we are yet awake Anon. conj.

194: did bid] Q1. bid Q2 Ff.

195, 196: Printed as prose in Qq Ff, as verse in Rowe (ed. 2).

196: let us] Q2 Ff. lets Q1.

197: SCENE III. Pope.

[Awaking] Bottom wakes. Ff. om. Qq.

201: I have had a dream] Qq. I had a dream Ff.

203: to] om. Q1.

205: a patched] Ff. patcht a Qq. {Transcriber's Note: this linenote has been copied here from the original book's ADDENDA.}

212: a play] the play Hanmer. our play S. Walker conj.

213: at her] after Theobald. at Thisby’s Collier MS. ~~~~~

Act IV, Scene II — Athens. QUINCE’S house

Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING.

Quin. Have you sent to Bottom’s house? is he come home yet?

Star. He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.

Flu. If he come not, then the play is marred: it goes 5 not forward, doth it?

Quin. It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.

Flu. No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens. 10

Quin. Yea, and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.

Flu. You must say ‘paragon’: a paramour is, God bless us, a thing of naught.

Enter SNUG.

Snug. Masters, the Duke is coming from the temple, 15 and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

Flu. O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence a day: an the Duke had not given him sixpence a 20 day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.

Enter BOTTOM.

Bot. Where are these lads? where are these hearts?

Quin. Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour! 25

Bot. Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out.

Quin. Let us hear, sweet Bottom.

Bot. Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, 30 that the Duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o’er his part; for the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that 35 plays the lion pare his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words: away! go, away! [Exeunt. 40

~~~~~ Linenotes: A Midsummer-Night’s Dream, IV, 2.

Act IV, Scene II — ] SCENE IV. Pope

1: Enter...] Enter Quince, Flute, Thisby, and the rabble. Qq. Enter Quince, Flute, Thisby, Snout, and Starveling. Ff.

3: Star.] Ff. Flute. Qq.

5, 6: goes not] Qq F1 F2. goes F3 F4.

11: Quin.] Snout. Halliwell conj.

13: Flu.] Quin. Anon. conj.

14: naught] F2 F3 F4. nought Qq F1.

19: scaped] scraped Grey conj.

27: no] Ff. not Qq.

28: right] Qq. om. Ff.

30: All that] all Rowe.

34: preferred] proffered Theobald conj.

38, 39: doubt but] Qq F1 F2. doubt F3 F4.

40: go, away!] go away Qq Ff. ~~~~~

Act V, Scene I — Athens. The palace of THESEUS

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PHILOSTRATE, Lords, and Attendants.

Hip. ’Tis strange, my Theseus, that these lovers speak of.

The. More strange than true: I never may believe These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 5 More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, 10 Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen 15 Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; 20 Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

Hip. But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together, More witnesseth than fancy’s images, 25 And grows to something of great constancy; But, howsoever, strange and admirable.

The. Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.

Enter LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HERMIA, and HELENA.

Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!

Lys. More than to us 30 Wait in your royal walks, your board, your bed!

The. Come now; what masques, what dances shall we have, To wear away this long age of three hours Between our after-supper and bed-time? Where is our usual manager of mirth? 35 What revels are in hand? Is there no play, To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Call Philostrate.

Phil. Here, mighty Theseus.

The. Say, what abridgement have you for this evening? What masque? what music? How shall we beguile 40 The lazy time, if not with some delight?

Phil. There is a brief how many sports are ripe: Make choice of which your highness will see first.

[Giving a paper.

The. [reads] The battle with the Centaurs, to be sung By an Athenian eunuch to the harp. 45 We’ll none of that: that have I told my love, In glory of my kinsman Hercules. [Reads] The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals, Tearing the Thracian singer in their rage. That is an old device; and it was play’d 50 When I from Thebes came last a conqueror. [Reads] The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of Learning, late deceased in beggary. That is some satire, keen and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony. 55 [Reads] A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus And his love Thisbe; very tragical mirth. Merry and tragical! tedious and brief! That is, hot ice and wondrous strange snow. How shall we find the concord of this discord? 60

Phil. A play there is, my lord, some ten words long, Which is as brief as I have known a play; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes it tedious; for in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted: 65 And tragical, my noble lord, it is; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess, Made mine eyes water; but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed. 70

The. What are they that do play it?

Phil. Hard-handed men, that work in Athens here, Which never labour’d in their minds till now; And now have toil’d their unbreathed memories With this same play, against your nuptial. 75

The. And we will hear it.

Phil. No, my noble lord; It is not for you: I have heard it over, And it is nothing, nothing in the world; Unless you can find sport in their intents, Extremely stretch’d and conn’d with cruel pain, 80 To do you service.

The. I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in: and take your places, ladies.

[Exit Philostrate.

Hip. I love not to see wretchedness o’ercharged, 85 And duty in his service perishing.

The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing.

Hip. He says they can do nothing in this kind.

The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Our sport shall be to take what they mistake: 90 And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect Takes it in might, not merit. Where I have come, great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, 95 Make periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their practised accent in their fears, And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet, Out of this silence yet I pick’d a welcome; 100 And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity In least speak most, to my capacity. 105

Re-enter PHILOSTRATE.

Phil. So please your Grace, the Prologue is address’d.

The. Let him approach. [Flourish of trumpets.

Enter QUINCE for the Prologue.

Pro. If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To show our simple skill, 110 That is the true beginning of our end. Consider, then, we come but in despite. We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight, We are not here. That you should here repent you, 115 The actors are at hand; and, by their show, You shall know all, that you are like to know.

The. This fellow doth not stand upon points.

Lys. He hath rid his prologue like a rough colt; he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: it is not 120 enough to speak, but to speak true.

Hip. Indeed he hath played on his prologue like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.

The. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? 125

Enter PYRAMUS and THISBE, WALL, MOONSHINE, and LION.

Pro. Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show; But wonder on, till truth make all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know; This beauteous lady Thisby is certain. This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present 130 Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder; And through Wall’s chink, poor souls, they are content To whisper. At the which let no man wonder. This man, with lanthorn, dog, and bush of thorn, Presenteth Moonshine; for, if you will know, 135 By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn To meet at Ninus’ tomb, there, there to woo. This grisly beast, which Lion hight by name, The trusty Thisby, coming first by night, Did scare away, or rather did affright; 140 And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall, Which Lion vile with bloody mouth did stain. Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall, And finds his trusty Thisby’s mantle slain: Whereat, with blade, with bloody blameful blade, 145 He bravely broach’d his boiling bloody breast; And Thisby, tarrying in mulberry shade, His dagger drew, and died. For all the rest, Let Lion, Moonshine, Wall, and lovers twain At large discourse, while here they do remain. 150

[Exeunt Prologue, Thisbe, Lion, and Moonshine.

The. I wonder if the lion be to speak.

Dem. No wonder, my lord: one lion may, when many asses do.

Wall. In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; 155 And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast, and this stone, doth show 160 That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.

The. Would you desire lime and hair to speak better?

Dem. It is the wittiest partition that ever I heard discourse, 165 my lord.

The. Pyramus draws near the wall: silence!

Enter PYRAMUS.

Pyr. O grim-look’d night! O night with hue so black! O night, which ever art when day is not! O night, O night! alack, alack, alack, 170 I fear my Thisby’s promise is forgot! And them, O wall, O sweet, O lovely wall, That stand’st between her father’s ground and mine! Thou wall, O wall, O sweet and lovely wall, Show me thy chink, to blink through with mine eyne! 175 [Wall holds up his fingers. Thanks, courteous wall: Jove shield thee well for this! But what see I? No Thisby do I see. O wicked wall, through whom I see no bliss! Cursed be thy stones for thus deceiving me!

The. The wall, methinks, being sensible, should curse 180 again.

Pyr. No, in truth, sir, he should not. ‘Deceiving me’ is Thisby’s cue: she is to enter now, and I am to spy her through the wall. You shall see, it will fall pat as I told you. Yonder she comes. 185

Enter THISBE.

This. O wall, full often hast thou heard my moans, For parting my fair Pyramus and me! My cherry lips have often kiss’d thy stones, Thy stones with lime and hair knit up in thee.

Pyr. I see a voice: now will I to the chink, 190 To spy an I can hear my Thisby’s face. Thisby!

This. My love thou art, my love I think.

Pyr. Think what thou wilt, I am thy lover’s grace; And, like Limander, am I trusty still. 195

This. And I like Helen, till the Fates me kill.

Pyr. Not Shafalus to Procrus was so true.

This. As Shafalus to Procrus, I to you.

Pyr. O, kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!

This. I kiss the wall’s hole, not your lips at all. 200

Pyr. Wilt thou at Ninny’s tomb meet me straightway?

This. ‘Tide life, ’tide death, I come without delay.

[Exeunt Pyramus and Thisbe.

Wall. Thus have I, wall, my part discharged so; And, being done, thus wall away doth go. [Exit.

The. Now is the mural down between the two neighbours. 205

Dem. No remedy, my lord, when walls are so wilful to hear without warning.

Hip. This is the silliest stuff that ever I heard.

The. The best in this kind are but shadows; and the 210 worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

Hip. It must be your imagination then, and not theirs.

The. If we imagine no worse of them than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men. Here come two noble beasts in a man and a lion. 215

Enter LION and MOONSHINE.

Lion. You, ladies, you, whose gentle hearts do fear The smallest monstrous mouse that creeps on floor, May now perchance both quake and tremble here, When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar. Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, am 220 A lion-fell, nor else no lion’s dam; For, if I should as lion come in strife Into this place, ’twere pity on my life.

The. A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

Dem. The very best at a beast, my lord, that e’er I saw. 225

Lys. This lion is a very fox for his valour.

The. True; and a goose for his discretion.

Dem. Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry his discretion; and the fox carries the goose.

The. His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour; 230 for the goose carries not the fox. It is well: leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present;—

Dem. He should have worn the horns on his head.

The. He is no crescent, and his horns are invisible 235 within the circumference.

Moon. This lanthorn doth the horned moon present; Myself the man i’ the moon do seem to be.

The. This is the greatest error of all the rest: the man should be put into the lantern. How is it else the man i’ 240 the moon?

Dem. He dares not come there for the candle; for, you see, it is already in snuff.

Hip. I am aweary of this moon: would he would change! 245

The. It appears, by his small light of discretion, that he is in the wane; but yet, in courtesy, in all reason, we must stay the time.

Lys. Proceed, Moon.

Moon. All that I have to say, is, to tell you that the 250 lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this thorn-bush, my thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.

Dem. Why, all these should be in the lantern; for all these are in the moon. But, silence! here comes Thisbe.

Enter THISBE.

This. This is old Ninny’s tomb. Where is my love? 255

Lion. [Roaring] Oh—— [Thisbe runs off.

Dem. Well roared, Lion.

The. Well run, Thisbe.

Hip. Well shone, Moon. Truly, the moon shines with a good grace. [The Lion shakes Thisbe’s mantle, and exit. 260

The. Well moused, Lion.

Dem. And then came Pyramus.

Lys. And so the lion vanished.

Enter PYRAMUS.

Pyr. Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams; I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright; 265 For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams, I trust to take of truest Thisby sight. But stay, O spite! But mark, poor knight, What dreadful dole is here! 270 Eyes, do you see? How can it be? O dainty duck! O dear! Thy mantle good, What, stain’d with blood! 275 Approach, ye Furies fell! O Fates, come, come, Cut thread and thrum; Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

The. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, 280 would go near to make a man look sad.

Hip. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

Pyr. O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame? Since lion vile hath here deflower’d my dear: Which is—no, no—which was the fairest dame 285 That lived, that loved, that liked, that look’d with cheer. Come, tears, confound; Out, sword, and wound The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, 290 Where heart doth hop: [Stabs himself. Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: 295 Tongue, lose thy light; Moon, take thy flight: [Exit Moonshine. Now die, die, die, die, die. [Dies.

Dem. No die, but an ace, for him; for he is but one.

Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. 300

The. With the help of a surgeon he might yet recover, and prove an ass.

Hip. How chance Moonshine is gone before Thisbe comes back and finds her lover? 305

The. She will find him by starlight. Here she comes; and her passion ends the play.

Re-enter THISBE.

Hip. Methinks she should not use a long one for such a Pyramus: I hope she will be brief.

Dem. A mote will turn the balance, which Pyramus, 310 which Thisbe, is the better; he for a man, God warrant us; she for a woman, God bless us.

Lys. She hath spied him already with those sweet eyes.

Dem. And thus she means, videlicet:—

This. Asleep, my love? 315 What, dead, my dove? O Pyramus, arise! Speak, speak. Quite dumb? Dead, dead? A tomb Must cover thy sweet eyes. 320 These lily lips, This cherry nose, These yellow cowslip cheeks, Are gone, are gone: Lovers, make moan: 325 His eyes were green as leeks. O Sisters Three, Come, come to me, With hands as pale as milk; Lay them in gore, 330 Since you have shore With shears his thread of silk. Tongue, not a word: Come, trusty sword; Come, blade, my breast imbrue: [Stabs herself. 335 And, farewell, friends; Thus Thisby ends: Adieu, adieu, adieu. [Dies.

The. Moonshine and Lion are left to bury the dead.

Dem. Ay, and Wall too. 340

Bot. [Starting up] No, I assure you; the wall is down that parted their fathers. Will it please you to see the epilogue, or to hear a Bergomask dance between two of our company?

The. No epilogue, I pray you; for your play needs no 345 excuse. Never excuse; for when the players are all dead, there need none to be blamed. Marry, if he that writ it had played Pyramus and hanged himself in Thisbe’s garter, it would have been a fine tragedy: and so it is, truly; and very notably discharged. But, come, your Bergomask: let 350 your epilogue alone. [A dance. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve: Lovers, to bed; ’tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall out-sleep the coming morn, As much as we this night have overwatch’d. 355 This palpable-gross play hath well beguiled The heavy gait of night. Sweet friends, to bed. A fortnight hold we this solemnity, In nightly revels and new jollity. [Exeunt.

Enter PUCK.

Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, 360 And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task fordone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, 365 Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, 370 In the church-way paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate’s team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, 375 Now are frolic: not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow’d house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the door.

Enter OBERON and TITANIA with their train.

Obe. Through the house give glimmering light, 380 By the dead and drowsy fire: Every elf and fairy sprite Hop as light as bird from brier; And this ditty, after me, Sing, and dance it trippingly. 385

Tita. First, rehearse your song by rote, To each word a warbling note: Hand in hand, with fairy grace, Will we sing, and bless this place.

[Song and dance.

Obe. Now, until the break of day, 390 Through this house each fairy stray. To the best bride-bed will we, Which by us shall blessed be; And the issue there create Ever shall be fortunate. 395 So shall all the couples three Ever true in loving be; And the blots of Nature’s hand Shall not in their issue stand; Never mole, hare lip, nor scar, 400 Nor mark prodigious, such as are Despised in nativity, Shall upon their children be. With this field-dew consecrate, Every fairy take his gait; 405 And each several chamber bless, Through this palace, with sweet peace, Ever shall in safety rest, And the owner of it blest. Trip away; make no stay; 410 Meet me all by break of day.

[Exeunt Oberon, Titania, and train.

Puck. If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber’d here, While these visions did appear. 415 And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend. And, as I am an honest Puck, 420 If we have unearned luck Now to scape the serpent’s tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call: So, good night unto you all. 425 Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends. [Exit.

~~~~~ Linenotes: A Midsummer-Night’s Dream, V, 1.

Enter...] see note (VIII).

5, 6: apprehend More than] Theobald. apprehend more Than Qq Ff.

5–8: Printed in Q1 as three lines, ending more...lunatic...compact.

6: cool] cooler Pope.

10: That is, the madman:] The madman. While Pope.

12, 13: Q1 ends these lines with glance...and as, Q2 F1 with glance...heaven.

14–18: These five lines printed as four in Qq Ff, ending things...shapes...habitation...imagination.

16: shapes] shape Pope.

airy] Q2. ayery Q1. aire F1 F3. ayre F2. air F4.

19: if it would] if he would Rowe (ed. 2).

21: Or] So Hanmer.

21, 22: Or...bear!] Grant White conjectures that these lines are interpolated.

29: days of love] F2 F3 F4. days Of love Qq F1.

30, 31: More......bed!] Printed as prose in Qq F1, as verse first in Q2.

31: Wait in] Wait on Rowe.

33, 34: The lines end between...manager in Q1. Corrected in Q2.

34: our] Ff. or Qq.

38: Philostrate] Qq. Egeus Ff.

38, 42, 61: Phil.] Qq. Ege. Ff.

42: There] Here Anon. ap. Halliwell conj.

ripe] Q1. rife Q2 Ff.

43: [Giving a paper.] Theobald.

44: The. [reads] The. Qq. Lys. Ff. See note (IX).

Centaurs] centaur F4.

58–60: Printed as prose in Qq Ff.

59: That is...snow] omitted by Pope.

ice] Ise Q1.

and wondrous strange snow] and wond’rous scorching snow Hanmer. a wondrous strange shew Warburton. and wondrous strange black snow Capell (Upton conj.). and wonderous strong snow Mason conj. and wondrous seething snow Collier (Collier MS.). and wondrous swarthy snow Staunton conj. and wondrous staining snow Nicholson conj.

61: there is] it is Hanmer. this is Collier (Collier MS.).

66–70: Qq F1 end the lines Pyramus,...saw...water...laughter...shed. Corrected in F2.

75: nuptial] Qq F1. nuptials F2 F3 F4.

76, 77: Qq Ff end these lines hear it...heard. Corrected by Rowe (ed. 2).

79: Johnson supposes a line to be lost after intents.

80: conn’d] penn’d Kenrick conj.

81, 82: I...thing] As one line in Qq Ff. Corrected by Rowe (ed. 2).

91: poor duty] poor willing duty Theobald. poor duty meaning Spedding conj.

do] do aright Seymour conj. do, yet would Coleridge conj.

91, 92: noble respect Takes] Noble respect takes Theobald.

92: it in might, not] not in might, but Johnson conj. it in mind, not Spedding conj.

105: Re-enter...] Enter... Theobald. Enter Philomon. Pope.

106: Phil.] Qq. Egeus. Ff.

107: Flourish of trumpets.] Flor. Trum. Ff. om. Qq.

108: SCENE II. Pope.

Enter Quince for the Prologue] Rowe. Enter the Prologue. Qq. Enter the Prologue. Quince. F1 F2. Enter Prologue. Quince. F3 F4.

114–117: Pope alters the punctuation here.

118: points] his points Collier (Collier MS.).

120: A good] Dem. A good Edd. conj.

122: his] Ff. this Qq.

123: a recorder] Qq F1. the recorder F2 F3 F4.

124: chain] skein Anon. conj.

125: next] Qq F1. the next F2 F3 F4.

125: [Tawyer with a trumpet before them. Ff. See note (X).

Enter...] Enter... as in dumb show. Capell.

130: lime] loam Capell conj. MS.

131: that] Qq F1. the F2 F3 F4.

138: grisly] grizy F1.

Lion hight by name] by name Lion hight Theobald.

139: Malone conjectures that a line has been lost after night.

141: did fall] let fall Pope.

144: trusty] Qq. om. F1. gentle F2 F3 F4.

147: And Thisby, tarrying] Qq Ff. And, Thisby tarrying Malone.

in] in the F3 F4.

150: [Exeunt...] Exit Lyon, Thisby, and Moonshine. Qq (after line 153). Exit all but Wall. Ff (which repeat the stage direction of Qq).

155: Snout] Ff. Flute Qq.

158: Pyramus] Pyr’mus Theobald.

Thisby] This-be Theobald.

160: loam] F3 F4. lome Qq. loame F1 F2. lime Reed. See note (XI).

172: O sweet, O] Qq. thou sweet and Ff. O sweet and Pope.

173: stand’st] Q1. stands Q2 Ff.

175: [Wall...fingers.] Capell.

183: now] Qq. om. Ff.

184: it will fall pat...comes Enter Thisbe.] Qq. it will fall. [Enter Thisbie.] Pat...comes Ff.

189: hair] hayire Q1.

up in thee] Ff. now againe Qq.

190: see] Qq F1. heare F2 F3 F4.

191: hear] Qq F1. see F2 F3 F4.

193: love thou art, my love] Qq Ff. love! thou art, my love, Theobald.

195: Limander] Limandea Pope.

196: I] Qq F2. om. F1 F3 F4.

202: [Exeunt P. and T.] Dyce.

204: [Exit.] Exit Clow. Ff. om. Qq. [Exeunt Wall, P. and T. Capell.

205: The.] Duk. Qq Ff.

mural down] Pope (ed. 2). Moon used Qq. morall downe Ff. mure all down Hanmer. wall down Collier MS.

208: hear] rear Hanmer (Warburton). disappear Heath conj.

209: Hip.] Dutch. Qq Ff.

ever] Q1. ere Q2 Ff.

214: come] Qq. com F1. comes F2 F3 F4.

215: beasts in, a man] Rowe (ed. 2). beasts, in a man Qq Ff. beasts—in a moon Theobald conj. beasts in, a moon-calf Farmer conj. beasts in, a man in a lion Jackson conj.

210: one] Ff. as Qq.

221: A lion-fell] Singer. A lion fell Qq Ff. No lion fell Rowe. A lion’s fell Dyce (Barron Field conj.).

223: on] Qq. of Ff. o’ Capell conj. MS.

my] your Collier MS.

232: listen] Q1. hearken Q2 Ff.

moon] man Anon. conj.

235: no] not Collier (Collier MS.).

238: do] Qq. doth Ff.

244: aweary] Q1. weary Q2 Ff.

246: his] this Pope.

253, 254: for all these] Q1. for they Q2 Ff.

255: old...tomb] ould...tumbe Q1.

Where is] wher’s Q2.

256: [The Lion roares, Thisby runs off. Ff. om. Qq.

260: a] om. Rowe (ed. 1).

[The Lion......exit.] Capell. om. Ff Qq.

261: moused] mouz’d Qq Ff. mouth’d Rowe.

262, 263: And then...vanished] and so...And then the moon vanishes Steevens (Farmer conj.). Mr Spedding conjectures that these lines should be transposed.

266: gleams] Staunton (Knight conj.). streams F2 F3 F4. beames Qq F1.

267: take] Qq. taste Ff.

Thisby] Qq. Thisbies Ff.

273: dear] deare Qq. Deere F1 F2. Deer F3 F4.

276: ye] Qq. you Ff.

280, 281: Printed as verse in Ff, ending friend...sad.

280: and] on Collier MS.

284: dear] deare Qq. deere F1 F2. Deer F3 F4.

291: [Stabs himself.] om. Qq Ff.

296: Tongue] Sun Halliwell conj.

lose] Q2 Ff. loose Q1.

297: [Exit M.] Capell. om. Qq Ff.

298: [Dies.] Capell. om. Qq Ff.

303: and prove] Q2 Ff. and yet prove Q1.

304: Moonshine] the Moon-shine F3 F4.

before Thisbe] Rowe. before? Thisby Qq Ff.

310: mote] Steevens (Heath conj.). moth Qq Ff.

311, 312: he for a man...God bless us] Qq. omitted in Ff.

311: warrant] warnd Qq.

314: means] Qq Ff. moans Theobald.

320: thy] my F3 F4.

321, 322: These...nose] These lips lily, This nose cherry Farmer conj. This lily lip, This cherry tip Collier (Collier MS.).

321: lips] brows Theobald.

322: nose] nip Grant White conj.

330: Lay] Love Theobald.

332: his] this F3 F4.

335: [Stabs herself.] om. Qq Ff.

341: Bot.] Ff. Lyon. Qq.

[Starting up] Capell.

347: need] be Capell conj.

Marry] Mary Q1.

348: hanged] Qq. hung Ff.

351: [A dance.] A dance and exeunt clowns. Capell. om. Qq Ff. Here a dance of clowns. Rowe.

360: SCENE II. Capell. SCENE III. Pope.

lion] Rowe. lions Qq Ff.

361: behowls] Theobald (Warburton). beholds Qq Ff.

363: fordone] foredoone Q1. foredone Q2 Ff.

365: screech-owl] scriech-owle Q1. scritch-owle Q2 Ff.

371: church-way] churchyard Poole’s Eng. Parnassus.

379: Enter...] Enter King and Queene of Fairies with all their traine. Q1. Enter... with their traine. Q2 Ff.

380: Through] Though Grant White.

the] this Warburton.

the house give] this house in Johnson conj.

386: your] Q1. this Q2 Ff.

389: [Song and dance.] Capell.

390–411: Given to Oberon in Qq. Called The Song in Ff and printed in italics. Restored to Oberon by Johnson. See note (XII).

403, 404: be. With...consecrate,] Qq Ff. be, With...consecrate. Collier MS.

408: Ever shall in safety] Qq Ff. Ever shall it safely Rowe (ed. 2). E’er shall it in safety Malone. See note (XIII).

408, 409: These lines are transposed by Staunton.

410: away;] away, then Hanmer.

411: Exeunt...] Capell. om. Qq Ff.

415: these] this Q2.

420: I am] I’m Capell.

an] om. F3 F4. ~~~~~

NOTES.

NOTE I.

I. 2. 45. It may be questioned whether the true reading is not ‘thisne, thisne;’ that is, ‘in this manner,’ a meaning which ‘thissen’ has in several dialects. See Halliwell’s Arch. Dict. ‘So-ne’ is used in the same way in Suffolk.

NOTE II.

III. 1. 2. Capell appears to have considered the reading ‘marvailes’ of Q1 as representing the vulgar pronunciation of ‘marvellous,’ and he therefore printed it ‘marvels,’ as in IV. 1. 23.

NOTE III.

III. 2. 257, 258. In this obscure passage we have thought it best to retain substantially the reading of the Quartos. The Folios, though they alter it, do not remove the difficulty, and we must conclude that some words, perhaps a whole line, have fallen out of the text.

NOTE IV.

III 2. 337. We retain the reading of the old copies in preference to Theobald’s plausible conjecture. A similar construction occurs in The Tempest, II. 1. 27, ‘which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?’

NOTE V.

III. 2. 204. Although Pope’s reading of this line was followed by all editors down to Capell it is rendered extremely improbable by the occurrence of the word ‘Have’ at the beginning of the line in all the old copies, and could only have been suggested by what Pope considered the exigencies of the metre. ‘Needles’ may have been pronounced, as Steevens writes it, ‘neelds;’ but, if not, the line is harmonious enough.

NOTE VI.

IV. 1. 1. Johnson says, ‘I see no good reason why the fourth Act should begin here when there seems no interruption of the action;’ but he does not alter the arrangement of the Folios, which, in the absence of any good reason to the contrary, we also follow.

NOTE VII.

IV. 1. 8, &c. We have retained throughout this scene the spelling of the old copies ‘Mounsieur,’ as representing a pronunciation more appropriate to Bottom, like ‘Cavalery’ a few lines lower down. We are aware, however, that the word was generally so spelt.

NOTE VIII.

V. 1. In the Folios the stage direction is ‘Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Egeus and his Lords,’ and the speeches which properly belong to Philostrate as master of the revels are assigned to Egeus, with the exception of that beginning ‘No, my noble lord, &c.’ In line 38 the Quartos correctly read ‘Philostrate’ where the Folios have ‘Egeus.’ The confusion may have arisen, as Mr Grant White suggests, from the two parts having been originally played by the same actor.

NOTE IX.

V. 1. 44–60. We have followed the Quartos in assigning this speech to Theseus alone. In the Folios Lysander is represented as reading the ‘brief’ and Theseus as commenting upon it. Theobald first restored the arrangement of the Quartos.

NOTE X.

V. 1. 125. The stage direction of the Folios is ‘Tawyer with a trumpet before them,’ Tawyer being generally understood to be the name of the trumpeter; but Mr Collier, on the strength of a note in the corrected Folio ‘Enter Presenter,’ interprets ‘Tawyer’ as the name of the actor who filled the part of Presenter and introduced the characters of the play.

NOTE XI.

V. 1. 160. In the Variorum edition of 1821 ‘lime’ is given as the reading of the Folios, and ‘lome’ of the Quartos, the fact being that F1 F2 read ‘loame,’ and F3 F4 ‘loam.’

NOTE XII.

V. 1. 390–411. This speech, which in the Folios is made ‘The Song,’ was restored by Johnson to Oberon, following the Quartos. He adds, ‘But where then is the song?—I am afraid it is gone after many other things of greater value. The truth is that two songs are lost. The series of the scene is this: after the speech of Puck, Oberon enters, and calls his fairies to a song, which song is apparently wanting in all the copies. Next Titania leads another song which is indeed lost like the former, though the editors have endeavoured to find it. Then Oberon dismisses his fairies to the despatch of the ceremonies. The songs, I suppose, were lost, because they were not inserted in the players’ parts, from which the drama was printed.’

NOTE XIII.

V. 1. 408, 409. The difficulty in these two lines is at once removed by transposing them, as was suggested by C. R. W. a correspondent in the Illustrated London News. Mr Staunton was at one time inclined to think that ‘Ever shall’ was a corruption of ‘Every hall,’ but he now adheres to the solution above given. Malone incorrectly attributes to Pope the reading which he himself adopts, ‘E’er shall it in safety rest,’ Pope’s reading being ‘Ever shall in safety rest’ as in Rowe’s second edition.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Dramatis Personæ

The DUKE OF VENICE. The PRINCE OF MOROCCO[2], suitor to Portia. The PRINCE OF ARRAGON, ” ” ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice. BASSANIO, his friend, suitor likewise to Portia. SALANIO, friend to Antonio and Bassanio. SALARINO, ” ” ” GRATIANO, ” ” ” SALERIO[3], ” ” ” LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a rich Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, the clown, servant to Shylock. OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot. LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio. BALTHASAR[4], servant to Portia. STEPHANO, ” ”

PORTIA, a rich heiress. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. JESSICA, daughter to Shylock.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.

SCENE[5]—Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent.

~~~~~ Footnotes:

1: DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] First given in Q3. See note (I).

2: THE......MOROCCO] Morochus, a Prince. Q3 Q4. Morochius, a Moorish Prince. Rowe.

3: SALERIO] See note (IX).

4: BALTHASAR] Theobald, om. Q3 Q4.

5: SCENE...] Rowe. ~~~~~

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Act 1, Scene I — Venice. A street.

Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.

Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad: It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn; 5 And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself.

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail, Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, 10 Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, Do overpeer the petty traffickers, That curt’sy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings.

Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, 15 The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind; Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads; And every object that might make me fear 20 Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me sad.

Salar. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great at sea might do. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, 25 But I should think of shallows and of flats, And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d in sand Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, 30 And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel’s side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream; Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks; And, in a word, but even now worth this, 35 And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? But tell not me; I know, Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 40

Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. 45

Salar. Why, then you are in love.

Ant. Fie, fie!

Salar. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad, Because you are not merry: and ’twere as easy For you to laugh, and leap, and say you are merry, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, 50 Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper; And other of such vinegar aspect, That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile, 55 Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.

Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well: We leave you now with better company.

Salar. I would have stay’d till I had made you merry, 60 If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you, And you embrace the occasion to depart.

Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. 65

Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so?

Salar. We’ll make our leisures to attend on yours.

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, 70 I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.

Bass. I will not fail you.

Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care: 75 Believe me, you are marvellously changed.

Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; 80 And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice 85 By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio—, I love thee, and it is my love that speaks,— There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, 90 With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ‘I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!’ O my Antonio, I do know of these, 95 That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing; when, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. I’ll tell thee more of this another time: 100 But fish not, with this melancholy bait, For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile: I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.

Lor. Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner-time: 105 I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years moe, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.

Ant. Farewell: I’ll grow a talker for this gear. 110

Gra. Thanks, i’faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat’s tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.

[Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo.

Ant. Is that any thing now?

Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains 115 of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them: and when you have them, they are not worth the search.

Ant. Well, tell me now, what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120 That you to-day promised to tell me of?

Bass. ’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance: 125 Nor do I now make moan to be abridged From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, Wherein my time, something too prodigal, Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, 130 I owe the most, in money and in love; And from your love I have a warranty To unburden all my plots and purposes How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; 135 And if it stand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honour, be assured, My purse, my person, my extremest means, Lie all unlock’d to your occasions.

Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 140 I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. 145 I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost: but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both, 150 Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully rest debtor for the first.

Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but time To wind about my love with circumstance; And out of doubt you do me now more wrong 155 In making question of my uttermost, Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do, That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak. 160

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left; And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued 165 To Cato’s daughter, Brutus’ Portia: Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth; For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; 170 Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos’ strond, And many Jasons come in quest of her. O my Antonio, had I but the means To hold a rival place with one of them, I have a mind presages me such thrift, 175 That I should questionless be fortunate!

Ant. Thou know’st that all my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money, nor commodity To raise a present sum: therefore go forth; Try what my credit can in Venice do: 180 That shall be rack’d, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Where money is; and I no question make, To have it of my trust, or for my sake. [Exeunt. 185

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, I, 1.

Enter...Salanio] See note (I).

5, 6: So printed in Q3 Q4: as one line in Q1 Q2 Ff.

10: on] of Steevens (Capell conj.).

13: curt’sy] cursie Q1 Q2.

19: Peering] Piering Q1. Piring Q2. Prying Q3 Q4.

24: at sea might do] at sea, might do Q1. might doe at sea Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

27: Andrew dock’d] Rowe. Andrew docks Qq Ff. Arg’sy dock’d Hanmer. Andrew’s decks Collier conj. Andrew, decks Delius.

33: her] the Q1. my Anon. conj.

46: Why, then you are] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. Then y’are Q1.

fie!] fie, away! Hanmer.

47: neither?] Q1. neither: Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. neither! F2 F3 F4.

let us] let’s Pope.

48: and] om. Pope.

54: other] others Pope.

56: Enter...] om. Q1. Dyce after line 64.

58: Fare ye well] Q3 Q4 F3 F4. Faryewell Q1 Q2 F1 F2. Fare you well Capell.

68: [Exeunt...] om. Rowe.

69: Lor.] Lord. F2. Sola. Rowe.

you have] you’ve Pope.

72: [Exit. Q1.

78: man] one Q1.

82: heart] heat F2 F3.

84: alabaster] Pope. alablaster Qq Ff.

87: it is] Ff. tis Qq.

89: cream] dreame Q1.

93: am Sir] Qq. am Sir an Ff.

95: these] those Q1.

97: when] who Rowe.

I am] I’m Pope.

98: would] ’twould Collier (Collier MS.).

damn] F4. dam Q1 Q2. damme F1 F2 F3. dant Q3 Q4.

102: fool] fool’s Pope.

103: Fare ye well] farwell Q1.

108: moe] more Rowe.

110: Farewell] Farwell Q1. Far you well Q2 F1. Fare you well F2 Q3 Q4 F3 F4.

gear] jeer Chedworth conj. fear Anon. ap. Halliwell conj.

112: [Exeunt G. and L.] Exeunt Qq Ff.

113: Is...now?] Rowe. It is...now. Qq Ff. It is that:—any thing now. Collier.

now] new Johnson conj.

115: as] om. Ff.

119: the] this Hanmer.

124: something showing] shewing something Pope.

125: continuance] continuance of Chedworth conj.

143: the other forth] the other, forth Hanmer. the first Seymour conj. him forth Lloyd conj.

146: wilful] witless Warburton. wileful Becket conj. wasteful Collier MS.

wilful youth] prodigal Lansdowne version.

155: do me now] Qq. doe F1. do to me F2 F3 F4.

160: unto it] to serve you Mason conj.

163: sometimes] sometime, Theobald.

164: messages] messengers Mason conj.

171: strond] strand Johnson.

172: come] comes Q1.

175: presages me such] which so presages Seymour conj.

178: Neither] Nor Pope. ~~~~~

Act 1, Scene II — Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.

Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too 5 much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs; but competency lives longer.

Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced.

Ner. They would be better, if well followed. 10

Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. 15 The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o’er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O me, the word ‘choose’! I may neither choose whom I 20 would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men, at their death, have good inspirations: therefore, the lottery, 25 that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead,—whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you,— will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are 30 already come?

Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my description, level at my affection.

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. 35

Por. Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith.

Ner. Then there is the County Palatine. 40

Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, ‘if you will not have me, choose:’ he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death’s-head with 45 a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two!

Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a 50 man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker: but, he! —why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s; a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine: he is every man in no man; if a throstle sing, he falls straight a capering: he will fence with his own shadow: if I should 55 marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.

Ner. What say you, then, to Falconbridge, the young baron of England? 60

Por. You know I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man’s picture; but, alas, who can converse with a 65 dumbshow? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour every where.

Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?

Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; for he 70 borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again when he was able: I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.

Ner. How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony’s nephew? 75

Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. 80

Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father’s will, if you should refuse to accept him.

Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for, if 85 the devil be within and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I’ll be married to a sponge.

Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords: they have acquainted me with their determinations; 90 which is, indeed, to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more suit, unless you may be won by some other sort than your father’s imposition, depending on the caskets.

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as 95 chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father’s will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence; and I pray God grant them a fair departure.

Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father’s 100 time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquis of Montferrat?

Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think he was so called.

Ner. True, madam: he, of all the men that ever my 105 foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.

Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.

Enter a Serving-man.

How now! what news?

Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take 110 their leave: and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince his master will be here to-night.

Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad 115 of his approach: if he have the condition of a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before. Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeunt. 120

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, I, 2.

SCENE II. Belmont...house.] Capell. Three caskets are set out, one of gold, another of silver, and another of lead. Rowe.

Enter...] Enter P. with her waiting woman N. Qq Ff (wating. Q3 Q4).

1: aweary] weary F3 F4.

6, 7: It is no mean happiness, therefore] Qq. It is no small happiness therefore F1 F2 F3. therefore it is no small happiness F4. therefore it is no mean happiness Theobald.

13: It] He Pope.

15: than be] Ff. then to be Qq.

19: reasoning] Qq. reason Ff.

in] om. Mason conj.

the fashion] Qq. fashion Ff.

20, 21: whom...whom] Ff. who...who Qq.

22: Is it] it is F1.

28: will, no doubt, never] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. no doubt you wil never Q1.

29: who] Q1. who you Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. whom you Pope.

32, 84: pray thee] prethee Q1.

36: colt] dolt Theobald.

37: appropriation to] appropriation unto Q1. approbation of Collier (Collier MS.).

38: him] om. Q1.

39: afeard] Qq. afraid Ff.

40: there is] Q1. is there Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

40, 52: Palatine] Q1. Palentine Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

42: if] Q1. & Q2. and Ff Q3 Q4.

45: be] Qq. to be Ff.

49: Bon] Boune Qq F1 F2. Boun F3 F4.

51: a sin] Qq F1. sin F2 F3 F4.

54: throstle] Pope, trassell Qq F1. tarssell F2. tassell F3 F4.

58: shall] Qq. should Ff.

59: you] om. Capell (corrected in MS.).

63: will] may Pope.

64: the English] English Rowe.

69: Scottish] Qq. other Ff. Irish Collier MS.

71: swore] sworne F2.

79: an the worst] and the worst Qq Ff. and, the worst Hanmer.

87: I’ll] ile Q1. I will Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

90: determinations] determination Rowe.

93: your] you F2.

99: I pray God grant them] Qq. I wish them Ff. wish them Rowe.

101: a scholar] scholler Q1.

103: he was so] Q1. so was he Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

109: How now! what news?] Qq. omitted in Ff.

110: seek for you] Qq. seek you Ff.

114: a] Q1. om Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

118, 119: Printed as prose in Qq Ff; first as verse by Knight.

120: gates] Q1. gate Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. ~~~~~

Act 1, Scene III — Venice. A public place.

Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK.

Shy. Three thousand ducats; well.

Bass. Ay, sir, for three months.

Shy. For three months; well.

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. 5

Shy. Antonio shall become bound; well.

Bass. May you stead me? will you pleasure me? shall I know your answer?

Shy. Three thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio bound. 10

Bass. Your answer to that.

Shy. Antonio is a good man.

Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?

Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no: my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient. 15 Yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath, squandered abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be 20 land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean pirates; and then there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats; I think I may take his bond.

Bass. Be assured you may. 25

Shy. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. 30 I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?

Enter ANTONIO.

Bass. This is Signior Antonio. 35

Shy. [Aside] How like a fawning publican he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian; But more for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. 40 If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation; and he rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, 45 Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, If I forgive him!

Bass. Shylock, do you hear?

Shy. I am debating of my present store; And, by the near guess of my memory, I cannot instantly raise up the gross 50 Of full three thousand ducats. What of that? Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, Will furnish me. But soft! how many months Do you desire? [To Ant.] Rest you fair, good signior; Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 55

Ant. Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow, By taking nor by giving of excess, Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, I’ll break a custom. Is he yet possess’d How much ye would?

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. 60

Ant. And for three months.

Shy. I had forgot; three months, you told me so. Well then, your bond; and let me see; but hear you; Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow Upon advantage.

Ant. I do never use it. 65

Shy. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban’s sheep,— This Jacob from our holy Abram was, As his wise mother wrought in his behalf, The third possessor; ay, he was the third,—

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? 70

Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say, Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himself were compromised That all the eanlings which were streak’d and pied Should fall as Jacob’s hire, the ewes, being rank, 75 In the end of autumn turned to the rams; And when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the act, The skilful shepherd peel’d me certain wands, And, in the doing of the deed of kind, 80 He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes, Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time Fall parti-colour’d lambs, and those were Jacob’s. This was a way to thrive, and he was blest: And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. 85

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for; A thing not in his power to bring to pass, But sway’d and fashion’d by the hand of heaven. Was this inserted to make interest good? Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams? 90

Shy. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast: But note me, signior.

Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul, producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; 95 A goodly apple rotten at the heart: O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

Shy. Three thousand ducats; ’tis a good round sum. Three months from twelve; then, let me see; the rate—

Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you? 100

Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys and my usances: Still have I borne it with a patient shrug; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. 105 You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help: Go to, then; you come to me, and you say 110 ‘Shylock, we would have moneys:’ you say so; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold: moneys is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say 115 ‘Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ or Shall I bend low and in a bondman’s key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this,— 120 ‘Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; You spurn’d me such a day; another time You call’d me dog; and for these courtesies I’ll lend you thus much moneys’?

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, 125 To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not As to thy friends; for when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? But lend it rather to thine enemy; 130 Who if he break, thou mayst with better face Exact the penalty.

Shy. Why, look you, how you storm! I would be friends with you, and have your love, Forget the shames that you have stain’d me with, Supply your present wants, and take no doit 135 Of usance for my moneys, and you’ll not hear me: This is kind I offer.

Bass. This were kindness.

Shy. This kindness will I show. Go with me to a notary, seal me there Your single bond; and, in a merry sport, 140 If you repay me not on such a day, In such a place, such sum or sums as are Express’d in the condition, let the forfeit Be nominated for an equal pound Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken 145 In what part of your body pleaseth me.

Ant. Content, i’faith: I’ll seal to such a bond, And say there is much kindness in the Jew.

Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me: I’ll rather dwell in my necessity. 150

Ant. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it: Within these two months, that’s a month before This bond expires, I do expect return Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

Shy. O father Abram, what these Christians are, 155 Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this; If he should break his day, what should I gain By the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man’s flesh taken from a man 160 Is not so estimable, profitable neither, As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, To buy his favour, I extend this friendship: If he will take it, so; if not, adieu; And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 165

Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.

Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary’s; Give him direction for this merry bond; And I will go and purse the ducats straight; See to my house, left in the fearful guard 170 Of an unthrifty knave; and presently I will be with you.

Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew. [Exit Shylock. The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind.

Bass. I like not fair terms and a villain’s mind.

Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dismay; 175 My ships come home a month before the day. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, I, 3.

3: months] mouths F2.

14: Ho,...no] Qq F1. No, no, no, no, no F2. No, no, no, no F3 F4.

18: Rialto] Ryalta Qq F1. Ryalto F2 F3. Royalto F4.

19: hath, squandered] Theobald. hath squandred Qq Ff.

21: land-rats] lands rats F2.

water-thieves and land-thieves] land thieves and water thieves Singer (Eccles conj.).

29, 30: to eat...into.] omitted by Johnson.

33: Rialto] Q3 Q4. Ryalto Q1 Q2 F2 F3 F4. Ryalta F1.

34: is he] om. Rowe.

45: well-won] Q1 Q3 Q4. well-wone Q2. well-worne F1 F2 F3. well-worn F4.

47: Shylock] Shyloch Q1.

56: although] Q1 albeit Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

58: ripe] rife Johnson conj.

59, 60: Is...would?] Q2 Q3 Q4. are you resolv’d How much he would have Q1. is he yet possest How much he would Ff. Is he yet possest, How much you would Theobald. are you yet possess’d How much he would Collier MS. Is he yet possess’d How much we would S. Walker conj.

62: you told] he told Hanmer.

63: and let] but let F3 F4.

64: Methought] Q1 Q3 Q4. Me thoughts Q2 Ff.

73: were] was Q3 Q4.

compromised] compremyzd Q1 Q2 F1. comprimyz’d F2 F3. compremiz’d Q3 Q4. comprimis’d F4.

74: eanlings] eanelings Qq F1 F2 F3. euelings F4. ewelings Rowe. yeanlings Pope.

76: In the end] In th’ end Q1. In end Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

77: And] Then Hanmer.

79: peel’d] pyld Q1 Q2. pil’d Ff. pyl’d Q3 Q4.

82: eaning] yeaning Rowe.

89: inserted] inferred Collier MS.

91: breed] breeds F2.

96: A] Or Johnson conj. (who would place line 97 before 94).

97: goodly outside] godly outside Rowe. goodly outside’s Warburton.

99: then, let me see; the rate—] Edd. (Lloyd conj.). then let me see the rate. Qq Ff.

100: beholding] beholden Pope.

102: In] On Collier (Capell conj.)

106: call] call’d Collier MS.

107: spit] F3 F4. spet Qq F1 F2.

111: moneys] money Q1.

117: can] Qq. should Ff.

120, 121: Say...last] As one line in Qq Ff.

121: spit] Pope. spet Qq Ff. spat Rowe (ed. 2).

on Wednesday last] on wendsday last Q1 Q2. _last Wednesday_ Pope. Wednesday last Capell.

122: You] Your F2.

day; another] Ff. day another Qq.

126: spit] Rowe. spet Qq Ff.

128: friends] Qq F1. friend F2 F3 F4.

129: breed for] Qq. breed of Ff. See note (II).

barren] bearing Theobald conj. (withdrawn). _sordid _ Lansdowne version.

132: penalty] Q1 Q3 Q4. penaltie Q2. penalties Ff.

137: This is] This, sure, is Hanmer.

138: Bass.] Anth. Pope.

This were] Ay, this were Capell.

146: pleaseth] Qq. it pleaseth Ff. it shall please Pope.

147: i’ faith] i faith Q1. in faith Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

148: the Jew] thee, Jew Capell conj. a Jew Id. conj.

156: dealings teaches them] Qq F1. dealing teaches them F2 F3 F4. dealings teach them to Pope.

170: See] Look Capell (corrected in MS.).

fearful] fearless Warburton.

172: I will] Hanmer. Ile Qq Ff.

173: The] Qq. This Ff. Printed as prose in Qq Ff: first as verse by Pope.

kind] so kind Q1.

174: terms] teames F1. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene I — Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house

Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF MOROCCO and his train: PORTIA, NERISSA, and others attending.

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun, To whom I am a neighbour and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phœbus’ fire scarce thaws the icicles, 5 And let us make incision for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath fear’d the valiant: by my love, I swear The best-regarded virgins of our clime 10 Have loved it too: I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes; Besides, the lottery of my destiny 15 Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: But if my father had not scanted me And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself His wife who wins me by that means I told you, Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20 As any comer I have look’d on yet For my affection.

Mor. Even for that I thank you: Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets. To try my fortune. By this scimitar That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince 25 That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, I would outstare the sternest eyes that look, Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 30 To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! If Hercules and Lichas play at dice Which is the better man, the greater throw May turn by fortune from the weaker hand: So is Alcides beaten by his page; 35 And so may I, blind fortune leading me. Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.

Por. You must take your chance; And either not attempt to choose at all, Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong, 40 Never to speak to lady afterward In way of marriage: therefore be advised.

Mor. Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.

Por. First, forward to the temple: after dinner Your hazard shall be made.

Mor. Good fortune then! 45 To make me blest or cursed’st among men.

[Cornets, and exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 1.

Flourish...attending.] Enter Morochus a tawny Moore all in white and three or foure followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa and their traine. Qq. Enter...traine. Flo. Cornets. F1. Enter Morochius...all white...traine. Flo. Cornets. F2 F3 F4.

2: burnish’d] burning Collier MS.

4: me] om. Q1.

11: Have] Hath Q1.

13: solely] Q3 Q4. soly Q1 Q2 F2 F3. solie F1. soelly F4.

18: wit] will Capell (Grey conj.).

24: scimitar] semitaur Q1. symitare Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. symitar F2 F3 F4.

27: outstare] Q1. ore-stare Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

30: he] Q1 Ff. a Q2 Q3 Q4.

31: thee, lady] Rowe (ed. 2). the lady Qq Ff.

35: page] Theobald. rage Qq Ff.

43: Come...unto] Therefore...to Pope.

unto] to Q1.

46: blest] bless’t Steevens. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene II — Venice. A street.

Enter LAUNCELOT.

Laun. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, ‘Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot,’ or ‘good Gobbo,’ or ‘good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.’ My conscience 5 says, ‘No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo,’ or, as aforesaid, ‘honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels.’ Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack: ‘Via!’ says the fiend; ‘away!’ says the fiend; ‘for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,’ 10 says the fiend, ‘and run.’ Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, ‘My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man’s son,’—or rather an honest woman’s son;—for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of 15 taste;—well, my conscience says, ‘Launcelot, budge not.’ ‘Budge,’ says the fiend. ‘Budge not,’ says my conscience. ‘Conscience,’ say I, ‘you counsel well;’ ‘Fiend,’ say I, ‘you counsel well:’ to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God bless the mark, is a 20 kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The 25 fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your command; I will run.

Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket.

Gob. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew’s?

Laun. [Aside] O heavens, this is my true-begotten 30 father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try confusions with him.

Gob. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew’s?

Laun. Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, 35 but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew’s house.

Gob. By God’s sonties, ’twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with 40 him, dwell with him or no?

Laun. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of young Master Launcelot?

Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man’s son: his father, 45 though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

Laun. Well, let his father be what a’ will, we talk of young Master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship’s friend, and Launcelot, sir. 50

Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you of young Master Launcelot?

Gob. Of Launcelot, an’t please your mastership.

Laun. Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman, according to 55 Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.

Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. 60

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a prop? Do you know me, father?

Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman: but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his soul, alive or dead? 65

Laun. Do you not know me, father?

Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I-know you not.

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: 70 give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man’s son may; but, at the length, truth will out.

Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy. 75

Laun. Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

Gob. I cannot think you are my son.

Laun. I know not what I shall think of that: but 80 I am Launcelot, the Jew’s man; and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.

Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I’ll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou 85 got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.

Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him. 90

Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. How ’gree you now?

Laun. Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have 95 run some ground. My master’s a very Jew: give him a present! give him a halter: I am famished in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries: if 100 I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. O rare fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other followers.

Bass. You may do so; but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See 105 these letters delivered; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

[Exit a Servant.

Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship!

Bass. Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me? 110

Gob. Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy,—

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man; that would, sir,—as my father shall specify,—

Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve,— 115

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire,—as my father shall specify,—

Gob. His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce cater-cousins,—

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, 120 having done me wrong, doth cause me,—as my father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you,—

Gob. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is,—

Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, 125 as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.

Bass. One speak for both. What would you?

Laun. Serve you, sir.

Gob. That is the very defect of the matter, sir. 130

Bass. I know thee well; thou hast obtain’d thy suit: Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, And hath preferr’d thee, if it be preferment To leave a rich Jew’s service, to become The follower of so poor a gentleman. 135

Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.

Bass. Thou speak’st it well. Go, father, with thy son. Take leave of thy old master and inquire 140 My lodging out. Give him a livery More guarded than his fellows’: see it done.

Laun. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have ne’er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book, I 145 shall have good fortune. Go to, here’s a simple line of life: here’s a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! a’leven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man: and then to ’scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed; 150 here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a woman, she’s a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I’ll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

[Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo.

Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: These things being bought and orderly bestow’d, 155 Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteem’d acquaintance: hie thee, go.

Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.

Enter GRATIANO.

Gra. Where is your master?

Leon. Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit.

Gra. Signior Bassanio,— 160

Bass. Gratiano!

Gra. I have a suit to you.

Bass. You have obtain’d it.

Gra. You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.

Bass. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano: 165 Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice; Parts that become thee happily enough, And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; But where thou art not known, why, there they show Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain 170 To allay with some cold drops of modesty Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behaviour, I be misconstrued in the place I go to, And lose my hopes.

Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me: If I do not put on a sober habit, 175 Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely; Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say ‘amen;’ Use all the observance of civility, 180 Like one well studied in a sad ostent To please his grandam, never trust me more.

Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me By what we do to-night.

Bass. No, that were pity: 185 I would entreat you rather to put on Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends That purpose merriment. But fare you well: I have some business.

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest: 190 But we will visit you at supper-time. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 2.

Enter L.] Enter the Clown alone. Qq Ff.

1: will] will not Halliwell.

3, 4, 7: Gobbo] Q1. Iobbe Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. Job F3 F4.

Launcelot] Launcelet Qq Ff.

8: running with] running; withe Anon. ap. Steevens conj.

courageous] contagious Collier MS.

9: Via] Rowe. fia Qq Ff.

10: for the] fore the Collier MS.

heavens.] heavens: Capell. haven Mason conj.

19: well] ill Q1.

23: incarnal] Q1. incarnation Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

24: but] om. Ff.

27: command] Q1 commandment Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

28: young man] young-man Q2 Q3 Q4 F3 F4. yong-man F1 F2.

32: confusions] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. conclusions Q1.

35: up on] Qq. upon Ff.

38: to] unto Q1.

39: By] F4. Be Qq F1 F2 F3.

sonties] bonties Jackson conj.

46: say it] Q1. say’t Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

50: Launcelot] Gobbo Farmer conj.

sir] Qq. om. Ff.

52: Launcelot?] Launcelet? Q3 Q4 F4. Launcelet. Q1 Q2 F1 F2 F3. See note (III).

57: is] in F2.

62: know] not know Dyce conj.

71: murder] muder Q2.

72: at the length] Q1. in the end Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

73: will out] Qq F1. will not F2 F3 F4.

85: might] om. Capell (corrected in MS.).

87: fill-horse] Pope (ed. 2). pil-horse Q1. philhorse Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. thill-horse Theobald.

90: of my] Qq F1. F2. on my F3 F4.

last] lost Q2 F1.

93: ’gree] gree Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. agree Q1.

98: my] your Anon. conj.

101: not him] Qq Ff. him not Rowe.

103: Enter...] Enter B. with a follower or two. Qq Ff.

107: [Exit...] om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. Exit one of his men. Q1.

122: frutify] fortify Lloyd conj.

139: speak’st] split’st Warburton conj.

143: no;] no? Rowe (ed. 2).

have] ha Q1.

144: head.] head? Rowe (ed. 2).

looking on his own hand. Hanmer.

head. Well,] Q1. head, wel: Q2. head, well: F1 F2. head: well, Q3 Q4. head well: F3 F4.

145: doth] Here Warburton thinks a line has been lost.

table which...book] table (which...book) Jackson conj. table—why, it doth...book Kenrick conj.

book, I] book.—I Johnson (Heath conj.).

146: good] no good Malone conj.

fortune.] fortune,— Tyrwhitt conj.

148: a’leven] a leven Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. a leaven F3 F4. eleven Q1.

149: ’scape] escape Q1.

153: of an eye] Q1 om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

[Exeunt...] Exit Clown. Qq Ff.

157: go] Q1. goe Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. gon F2. gone F3 F4.

159: SCENE III. Pope.

[Exit.] Put after line 158 in Qq Ff.

162: a] om. Q2.

163: You must] Nay, you must Hanmer, reading as verse.

165: thee] me Q3 Q4.

168, 169: faults; But...known,] Ff Q3 Q4. _faults, But...knowne._ Q1. faults But...knowne; Q2.

170: Pray thee] prethee Q1.

173: misconstrued] misconstred Qq. misconsterd F1 F2 F3. misconster’d F4.

174: hopes] hope Q3 Q4.

175: I] om. F2.

177: pocket] pockets Rowe.

188: fare you well] faryewell Q1. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene III — The same. A room in SHYLOCK’S house

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.

Jes. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so: Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil, Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee: And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see 5 Lorenzo, who is thy new master’s guest: Give him this letter; do it secretly; And so farewell: I would not have my father See me in talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful 10 pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit: adieu.

Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot. [Exit Launcelot. 15 Alack, what heinous sin is it in me To be ashamed to be my father’s child! But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, 20 Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [Exit.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 3.

Act II, Scene III — ] SCENE IV. Pope

Enter...] Enter J. and the Clown. Qq Ff.

1: I am] I’m Pope.

9: in talk] Qq. talk Ff.

11: did] F2 F3 F4. doe Qq F1.

11, 12: did...get thee] do...get thee— Steevens.

13: something] Qq. somewhat Ff.

17: child!] child? Rowe. child, Qq Ff. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene IV — The same. A street.

Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.

Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, Disguise us at my lodging, and return All in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation.

Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. 5

Salan. ’Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order’d, And better in my mind not undertook.

Lor. ’Tis now but four o’clock: we have two hours To furnish us.

Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter.

Friend Launcelot, what’s the news?

Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall 10 seem to signify.

Lor. I know the hand: in faith, ’tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on Is the fair hand that writ.

Gra. Love-news, in faith.

Laun. By your leave, sir. 15

Lor. Whither goest thou?

Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.

Lor. Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica I will not fail her; speak it privately. 20 Go, gentlemen, [Exit Launcelot. Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salar. Ay, marry, I’ll be gone about it straight.

Salan. And so will I.

Lor. Meet me and Gratiano 25 At Gratiano’s lodging some hour hence.

Salar. ’Tis good we do so. [Exeunt Salar. and Salan.

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed How I shall take her from her father’s house; 30 What gold and jewels she is furnish’d with; What page’s suit she hath in readiness. If e’er the Jew her father come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter’s sake: And never dare misfortune cross her foot, 35 Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest: Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 4.

Act II, Scene IV — ] SCENE V. Pope

5: us yet] as yet F4.

8: o’] a Q1 F3 F4. of Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4.

9: Enter...] Ff. Enter L. Qq.

10: An it shall] And it shall Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. If it Q1.

10, 11: it shall seem] shall it seeme. F1.

13: whiter] whither F2.

14: Is] Qq. I Ff.

21: Go, gentlemen] go. Gentlemen Capell.

[Exit L.] Exit Clown. Qq Ff, placing it after line 23.

23: you] om. Q1.

this] th’ Hanmer. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene V — The same. Before SHYLOCK’S house

Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.

Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:— What, Jessica!—thou shalt not gormandise, As thou hast done with me:—What, Jessica!— And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;— 5 Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun. Why, Jessica!

Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter JESSICA.

Jes. Call you? what is your will? 10

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica: There are my keys. But wherefore should I go? I am not bid for love; they flatter me: But yet I’ll go in hate, to feed upon The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, 15 Look to my house. I am right loath to go: There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach. 20

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday last at six o’clock i’ the morning, falling out that year on 25 Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon.

Shy. What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squealing of the wry-neck’d fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, 30 Nor thrust your head into the public street To gaze on Christian fools with varnish’d faces; But stop my house’s ears, I mean my casements: Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house. By Jacob’s staff, I swear 35 I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah; Say I will come.

Laun. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; 40 There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess’ eye. [Exit.

Shy. What says that fool of Hagar’s offspring, ha?

Jes. His words were, ‘Farewell, mistress;’ nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder; 45 Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him; and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrow’d purse. Well, Jessica, go in: 50 Perhaps I will return immediately: Do as I bid you; shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find, A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.

Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, 55 I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 5.

Act II, Scene V — ] SCENE VI. Pope

Enter S. and L.] Enter the Jew and Lancelet. Q1. Enter Jew and his man that was the Clown. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

1: shalt] shall F1 F2.

7: do] Qq Ff. did Rowe.

8: that] Q1. om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

8, 9: Printed in Q2 Ff Q3 Q4 as two lines, ending me...bidding.

25: i’ the] in the Q1. ith Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. ith’ F3. i’ th’ F4.

27: What, are there] Q1. What are there Q2 Q3 Q4. What are their Ff. What are these Pope.

you] om. Q1.

29: squealing] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. squeaking Q1.

wry-neck’d] wry-neck Chedworth conj.

39: I will go before] I’ll go before you S. Walker conj.

at] at a Q1.

42: Jewess’] Pope. Jewes Qq F1 F2. Jew’s F3 F4.

46: and he] Qq. but he F1. but F2 F3 F4.

52, 53: Do...find] Q1; printed as one line in Q2 Ff Q3 Q4; bye Theobald as two lines, ending bid you...find.

52: Do...bid you] om. Pope.

doors] the doors Pope, who prints as one line Shut...find.

53: Fast...fast] safe...safe Collier Ms. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene VI — The same.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.

Gra. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo Desired us to make stand.

Salar. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salar. O, ten times faster Venus’ pigeons fly 5 To seal love’s bonds new-made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again 10 His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 15 Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!

Salar. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter. 20

Enter LORENZO.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I’ll watch as long for you then. Approach; Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who’s within? 25

Enter JESSICA, above, in boy’s clothes.

Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty, Albeit I’ll swear that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed, For who love I so much? And now who knows 30 But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad ’tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much ashamed of my exchange: 35 But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. 40

Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. Why, ’tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscured.

Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. 45 But come at once; For the close night doth play the runaway, And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. 50

[Exit above.

Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

Lor. Beshrew me but I love her heartily; For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; 55 And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter JESSICA, below.

What, art thou come? On, gentlemen; away! Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

[Exit with Jessica and Salarino.

Enter ANTONIO.

Ant. Who’s there? 60

Gra. Signior Antonio!

Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? ’Tis nine o’clock: our friends all stay for you. No masque to-night: the wind is come about; Bassanio presently will go aboard: 65 I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on’t: I desire no more delight Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 6.

Act II, Scene VI — ] SCENE VII. Pope. Dyce makes no new scene here

Enter...] Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salarino. Q1. Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salerino. Q2 Q3 Q4. Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salino. Ff.

2: to make] om. Steevens.

stand] Qq. a stand Ff.

almost] om. Grey conj.

5: pigeons] widgeons Warburton.

6: seal] Qq. steal Ff.

14: younker] Rowe. younger Qq Ff.

17: the] Qq. a Ff.

doth she] Qq F1 F2. she doth F3 F4. doth he Steevens conj.

18: over-weather’d] over-wetherd Q1 Q2. over-weatherd Q3 Q4. over-wither’d Ff.

24: I’ll...then] Then will I watch as long for you Jackson conj.

you then. Approach] you. Come then, approach Ritson conj.

Approach] Qq Ff. Come, approach Pope.

25: Ho!] Ho, Q1. Howe Q2. Hoa Ff. Hoe Q3 Q4.

who’s] whose Qq.

33: it is] tis Q1.

34: I am] I’m Pope.

41: shames] shame F2.

44: are you] Qq. you are Ff.

45: lovely garnish of a] garnish of a lovely Collier MS.

50: more] Ff. mo Qq.

51: Gentile] Q1 Q3 Q4 F2 F3 F4. gentle Q2 F1.

52: Beshrew] Q1 Ff. Beshrow Q2 Q3 Q4.

58: gentlemen] gentleman Q2.

59: [Exit...] Exit. Qq Ff.

60: Who’s there] Whose there Q2.

61: Fie, fie] Fie Pope.

66: I...you] omitted in Q1.

67, 68: Continued to Antonio in Q1. ~~~~~

Act II, Scene VII — Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house

Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF MOROCCO, and their trains.

Por. Go draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince. Now make your choice.

Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears, ‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire;’ 5 The second, silver, which this promise carries, ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves;’ This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’ How shall I know if I do choose the right? 10

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince: If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see; I will survey the inscriptions back again. What says this leaden casket? 15 ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’ Must give,—for what? for lead? hazard for lead? This casket threatens. Men that hazard all Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; 20 I’ll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. What says the silver with her virgin hue? ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’ As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco, And weigh thy value with an even hand: 25 If thou be’st rated by thy estimation, Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough May not extend so far as to the lady: And yet to be afeard of my deserving Were but a weak disabling of myself. 30 As much as I deserve! Why, that’s the lady: I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, In graces and in qualities of breeding; But more than these, in love I do deserve. What if I stray’d no further, but chose here? 35 Let’s see once more this saying graved in gold; ‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.’ Why, that’s the lady; all the world desires her; From the four corners of the earth they come, To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint: 40 The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now For princes to come view fair Portia: The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar 45 To stop the foreign spirits; but they come, As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia. One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Is’t like that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation To think so base a thought: it were too gross 50 To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. Or shall I think in silver she’s immured, Being ten times undervalued to tried gold? O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem Was set in worse than gold. They have in England 55 A coin that bears the figure of an angel Stamped in gold, but that’s insculp’d upon; But here an angel in a golden bed Lies all within. Deliver me the key: Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! 60

Por. There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. [He unlocks the golden casket.

Mor. O hell! what have we here? A carrion Death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing. [Reads.

All that glisters is not gold; 65 Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold. Had you been as wise as bold, 70 Young in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been inscroll’d: Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed; and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost! 75 Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets.

Por. A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 7.

Act II, Scene VII — ] SCENE III. Rowe. SCENE VIII. Pope

[Flourish of cornets.] Flourish. Capell. om. Qq Ff. See note (IV).

Enter...] Enter Portia with Morrocho, and both their trains. Qq Ff.

5: many] Qq. om. Ff.

10: How...right?] This line is repeated in F1 F2.

12: withal] with all Collier.

18: threatens. Men] Rowe. threatens men Qq Ff.

21: nor give] Qq Ff. not give Rowe (ed. 2).

24: Morocco] Morrochius Pope.

26: thy] the F4.

29: afeard] afraid Q3 Q4.

34: deserve] deserve her Collier (Capell conj.).

41: vasty] Q1. vastie Q2 Q3 Q4. vaste F1 F2. vast F3 F4.

45: Spits] Spets Qq Ff.

51: rib] Q1 Ff. ribb Q2 Q3 Q4.

57: Stamped] Rowe (ed. 2). Stampt Qq Ff.

62: [He...casket.] om. Qq Ff.

62–64: O hell...scroll] As in Capell. As two lines ending Death ... scroll in Qq Ff.

64: I’ll...writing] Qq F1. omitted in F2 F3 F4.

69: tombs do] Capell (Johnson conj.). timber do Q1 F2 F4. timber doe Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. wood may Pope.

72: Your] This Johnson conj.

Here Holt White would repeat line 65, All ... gold.

77: [Exit...cornets.] Dyce. Exit. Qq Ff. See note (IV). ~~~~~

Act II, Scene VIII — Venice. A street.

Enter SALARINO and SALANIO.

Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

Salan. The villain Jew with outcries raised the Duke, Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship. 5

Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail: But there the Duke was given to understand That in a gondola were seen together Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica: Besides, Antonio certified the Duke 10 They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Salan. I never heard a passion so confused, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: ‘My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! 15 Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter! And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, 20 Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl! She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!’

Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.

Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, 25 Or he shall pay for this.

Salar. Marry, well remember’d. I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday, Who told me, in the narrow seas that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country richly fraught: 30 I thought upon Antonio when he told me; And wish’d in silence that it were not his.

Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 35 I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him he would make some speed Of his return: he answer’d, ‘Do not so; Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio, But stay the very riping of the time; 40 And for the Jew’s bond which he hath of me, Let it not enter in your mind of love: Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship, and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there:’ 45 And even there, his eye being big with tears, Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, And with affection wondrous sensible He wrung Bassanio’s hand; and so they parted.

Salan. I think he only loves the world for him. 50 I pray thee, let us go and find him out, And quicken his embraced heaviness With some delight or other.

Salar. Do we so. [Exeunt.

~~~~~ Linenotes: The Merchant of Venice, II, 8.

Act II, Scene VIII — ] SCENE IV. Rowe. SCENE IX. Pope. SCENE VII. Dyce. ACT III. SCENE I. Johnson conj

6: came] Qq. comes Ff.

8: gondola] Theobald. gondylo Qq. gondilo Ff. gondalo Rowe.

9: amorous] armorous Q1.

20: two stones, two] Qq F1. two F2 F3 F4. two stones, Pope. too—two Collier (Collier MS.).

34: do not] do’t not Heath conj.

for] lest Capell (corrected in MS.).

39: Slubber] Q1 Ff. Slumber Q2 Q3 Q4.

42: enter in....of] entertain....off Jackson conj.

mind of love] mind, of love Bennet Langton conj. bond of love Staunton conj. See note (V).

43: employ] apply Collier (Collier MS.).

52: embraced] enraced Warburton. entranced Johnson conj. (withdrawn). impressed Jackson conj. unbraced Anon. ap. Halliwell conj. ~~~~~