Shakespeare's First Folio · William Shakespeare
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Car. If your Grace Could but be brought to know, our Ends are honest, Youl'd feele more comfort. Why shold we (good Lady) Vpon what cause wrong you? Alas, our Places, The way of our Profession is against it; We are to Cure such sorrowes, not to sowe 'em. For Goodnesse sake, consider what you do, How you may hurt your selfe: I, vtterly Grow from the Kings Acquaintance, by this Carriage. The hearts of Princes kisse Obedience, So much they loue it. But to stubborne Spirits, They swell and grow, as terrible as stormes. I know you haue a Gentle, Noble temper, A Soule as euen as a Calme; Pray thinke vs, Those we professe, Peace-makers, Friends, and Seruants Camp. Madam, you'l finde it so: You wrong your Vertues With these weake Womens feares. A Noble Spirit As yours was, put into you, euer casts Such doubts as false Coine from it. The King loues you, Beware you loose it not: For vs (if you please To trust vs in your businesse) we are ready To vse our vtmost Studies, in your seruice Qu. Do what ye will, my Lords: And pray forgiue me; If I haue vs'd my selfe vnmannerly, You know I am a Woman, lacking wit To make a seemely answer to such persons. Pray do my seruice to his Maiestie, He ha's my heart yet, and shall haue my Prayers While I shall haue my life. Come reuerend Fathers, Bestow your Councels on me. She now begges That little thought when she set footing heere, She should haue bought her Dignities so deere.
King. Fairely answer'd: A Loyall, and obedient Subiect is Therein illustrated, the Honor of it Does pay the Act of it, as i'th' contrary The fowlenesse is the punishment. I presume, That as my hand ha's open'd Bounty to you, My heart drop'd Loue, my powre rain'd Honor, more On you, then any: So your Hand, and Heart, Your Braine, and euery Function of your power, Should, notwithstanding that your bond of duty, As 'twer in Loues particular, be more To me your Friend, then any Car. I do professe, That for your Highnesse good, I euer labour'd More then mine owne: that am, haue, and will be (Though all the world should cracke their duty to you, And throw it from their Soule, though perils did Abound, as thicke as thought could make 'em, and Appeare in formes more horrid) yet my Duty, As doth a Rocke against the chiding Flood, Should the approach of this wilde Riuer breake, And stand vnshaken yours King. 'Tis Nobly spoken: Take notice Lords, he ha's a Loyall brest, For you haue seene him open't. Read o're this, And after this, and then to Breakfast with What appetite you haue. Exit King, frowning vpon the Cardinall, the Nobles throng after him smiling, and whispering.
Car. What should this meane? What sodaine Anger's this? How haue I reap'd it? He parted Frowning from me, as if Ruine Leap'd from his Eyes. So lookes the chafed Lyon Vpon the daring Huntsman that has gall'd him: Then makes him nothing. I must reade this paper: I feare the Story of his Anger. 'Tis so: This paper ha's vndone me: 'Tis th' Accompt Of all that world of Wealth I haue drawne together For mine owne ends, (Indeed to gaine the Popedome, And fee my Friends in Rome.) O Negligence! Fit for a Foole to fall by: What crosse Diuell Made me put this maine Secret in the Packet I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this? No new deuice to beate this from his Braines? I know 'twill stirre him strongly; yet I know A way, if it take right, in spight of Fortune Will bring me off againe. What's this? To th' Pope? The Letter (as I liue) with all the Businesse I writ too's Holinesse. Nay then, farewell: I haue touch'd the highest point of all my Greatnesse, And from that full Meridian of my Glory, I haste now to my Setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the Euening, And no man see me more. Enter to Woolsey, the Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke, the Earle of Surrey, and the Lord Chamberlaine.
Nor. And so wee'l leaue you to your Meditations How to liue better. For your stubborne answer About the giuing backe the Great Seale to vs, The King shall know it, and (no doubt) shal thanke you. So fare you well, my little good Lord Cardinall. Exeunt. all but Wolsey. Wol. So farewell, to the little good you beare me. Farewell? A long farewell to all my Greatnesse. This is the state of Man; to day he puts forth The tender Leaues of hopes, to morrow Blossomes, And beares his blushing Honors thicke vpon him: The third day, comes a Frost; a killing Frost, And when he thinkes, good easie man, full surely His Greatnesse is a ripening, nippes his roote, And then he fals as I do. I haue ventur'd Like little wanton Boyes that swim on bladders: This many Summers in a Sea of Glory, But farre beyond my depth: my high-blowne Pride At length broke vnder me, and now ha's left me Weary, and old with Seruice, to the mercy Of a rude streame, that must for euer hide me. Vaine pompe, and glory of this World, I hate ye, I feele my heart new open'd. Oh how wretched Is that poore man, that hangs on Princes fauours? There is betwixt that smile we would aspire too, That sweet Aspect of Princes, and their ruine, More pangs, and feares then warres, or women haue; And when he falles, he falles like Lucifer, Neuer to hope againe. Enter Cromwell, standing amazed.
2 Alas good Lady. The Trumpets sound: Stand close, The Queene is comming. Ho-boyes. The Order of the Coronation. 1 A liuely Flourish of Trumpets. 2 Then, two Iudges. 3 Lord Chancellor, with Purse and Mace before him. 4 Quirristers singing. Musicke. 5 Maior of London, bearing the Mace. Then Garter, in his Coate of Armes, and on his head he wore a Gilt Copper Crowne. 6 Marquesse Dorset, bearing a Scepter of Gold, on his head, a Demy Coronall of Gold. With him, the Earle of Surrey, bearing the Rod of Siluer with the Doue, Crowned with an Earles Coronet. Collars of Esses. 7 Duke of Suffolke, in his Robe of Estate, his Coronet on his head, bearing a long white Wand, as High Steward. With him, the Duke of Norfolke, with the Rod of Marshalship, a Coronet on his head. Collars of Esses. 8 A Canopy, borne by foure of the Cinque-Ports, vnder it the Queene in her Robe, in her haire, richly adorned with Pearle, Crowned. On each side her, the Bishops of London, and Winchester. 9 The Olde Dutchesse of Norfolke, in a Coronall of Gold, wrought with Flowers bearing the Queenes Traine. 10 Certaine Ladies or Countesses, with plaine Circlets of Gold, without Flowers. Exeunt, first passing ouer the Stage in Order and State, and then, A great Flourish of Trumpets.
1 Sir, You must no more call it Yorke-place, that's past: For since the Cardinall fell, that Titles lost, 'Tis now the Kings, and call'd White-Hall 3 I know it: But 'tis so lately alter'd, that the old name Is fresh about me 2 What two Reuerend Byshops Were those that went on each side of the Queene? 3 Stokeley and Gardiner, the one of Winchester, Newly preferr'd from the Kings Secretary: The other London 2 He of Winchester Is held no great good louer of the Archbishops, The vertuous Cranmer 3 All the Land knowes that: How euer, yet there is no great breach, when it comes Cranmer will finde a Friend will not shrinke from him 2 Who may that be, I pray you 3 Thomas Cromwell, A man in much esteeme with th' King, and truly A worthy Friend. The King ha's made him Master o'th' Iewell House, And one already of the Priuy Councell 2 He will deserue more 3 Yes without all doubt. Come Gentlemen, ye shall go my way, Which is to'th Court, and there ye shall be my Guests: Something I can command. As I walke thither, Ile tell ye more Both. You may command vs Sir. Exeunt. Scena Secunda. Enter Katherine Dowager, sicke, lead betweene Griffith, her Gentleman Vsher, and Patience her Woman.
Kath. After my death, I wish no other Herald, No other speaker of my liuing Actions, To keepe mine Honor, from Corruption, But such an honest Chronicler as Griffith. Whom I most hated Liuing, thou hast made mee With thy Religious Truth, and Modestie, (Now in his Ashes) Honor: Peace be with him. Patience, be neere me still, and set me lower, I haue not long to trouble thee. Good Griffith, Cause the Musitians play me that sad note I nam'd my Knell; whil'st I sit meditating On that Coelestiall Harmony I go too. Sad and solemne Musicke. Grif. She is asleep: Good wench, let's sit down quiet, For feare we wake her. Softly, gentle Patience. The Vision. Enter solemnely tripping one after another, sixe Personages, clad in white Robes, wearing on their heades Garlands of Bayes, and golden Vizards on their faces, Branches of Bayes or Palme in their hands. They first Conge vnto her, then Dance: and at certaine Changes, the first two hold a spare Garland ouer her Head, at which the other foure make reuerend Curtsies. Then the two that held the Garland, deliuer the same to the other next two, who obserue the same order in their Changes, and holding the Garland ouer her head. Which done, they deliuer the same Garland to the last two: who likewise obserue the same Order. At which (as it were by inspiration) she makes (in her sleepe) signes of reioycing, and holdeth vp her hands to heauen. And so, in their Dancing vanish, carrying the Garland with them. The Musicke continues.
King. Louell Lou. Sir King. Giue her an hundred Markes. Ile to the Queene. Exit King. Lady. An hundred Markes? By this light, Ile ha more. An ordinary Groome is for such payment. I will haue more, or scold it out of him. Said I for this, the Gyrle was like to him? Ile Haue more, or else vnsay't: and now, while 'tis hot, Ile put it to the issue. Exit Ladie. Scena Secunda. Enter Cranmer, Archbyshop of Canterbury. Cran. I hope I am not too late, and yet the Gentleman That was sent to me from the Councell, pray'd me To make great hast. All fast? What meanes this? Hoa? Who waites there? Sure you know me? Enter Keeper. Keep. Yes, my Lord: But yet I cannot helpe you Cran. Why? Keep. Your Grace must waight till you be call'd for. Enter Doctor Buts. Cran. So Buts. This is a Peere of Malice: I am glad I came this way so happily. The King Shall vnderstand it presently. Exit Buts Cran. 'Tis Buts. The Kings Physitian, as he past along How earnestly he cast his eyes vpon me: Pray heauen he found not my disgrace: for certaine This is of purpose laid by some that hate me, (God turne their hearts, I neuer sought their malice) To quench mine Honor; they would shame to make me Wait else at doore: a fellow Councellor 'Mong Boyes, Groomes, and Lackeyes. But their pleasures Must be fulfill'd, and I attend with patience. Enter the King, and Buts, at a Windowe aboue.
Gard. My Lord, my Lord, you are a Sectary, That's the plaine truth; your painted glosse discouers To men that vnderstand you, words and weaknesse Crom. My Lord of Winchester, y'are a little, By your good fauour, too sharpe; Men so Noble, How euer faulty, yet should finde respect For what they haue beene: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man Gard. Good M[aster]. Secretary, I cry your Honour mercie; you may worst Of all this Table say so Crom. Why my Lord? Gard. Doe not I know you for a Fauourer Of this new Sect? ye are not sound Crom. Not sound? Gard. Not sound I say Crom. Would you were halfe so honest: Mens prayers then would seeke you, not their feares Gard. I shall remember this bold Language Crom. Doe. Remember your bold life too Cham. This is too much; Forbeare for shame my Lords Gard. I haue done Crom. And I Cham. Then thus for you my Lord, it stands agreed I take it, by all voyces: That forthwith, You be conuaid to th' Tower a Prisoner; There to remaine till the Kings further pleasure Be knowne vnto vs: are you all agreed Lords All. We are Cran. Is there no other way of mercy, But I must needs to th' Tower my Lords? Gard. What other, Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome: Let some o'th' Guard be ready there. Enter the Guard.
Man. The Spoones will be the bigger Sir: There is a fellow somewhat neere the doore, he should be a Brasier by his face, for o' my conscience twenty of the Dogdayes now reigne in's Nose; all that stand about him are vnder the Line, they need no other pennance: that FireDrake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his Nose discharged against mee; hee stands there like a Morter-piece to blow vs. There was a Habberdashers Wife of small wit, neere him, that rail'd vpon me, till her pinck'd porrenger fell off her head, for kindling such a combustion in the State. I mist the Meteor once, and hit that Woman, who cryed out Clubbes, when I might see from farre, some forty Truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o'th' Strond where she was quartered; they fell on, I made good my place; at length they came to th' broome staffe to me, I defide 'em stil, when sodainly a File of Boyes behind 'em, loose shot, deliuer'd such a showre of Pibbles, that I was faine to draw mine Honour in, and let 'em win the Worke, the Diuell was amongst 'em I thinke surely Por. These are the youths that thunder at a Playhouse, and fight for bitten Apples, that no Audience but the tribulation of Tower Hill, or the Limbes of Limehouse, their deare Brothers are able to endure. I haue some of 'em in Limbo Patrum, and there they are like to dance these three dayes; besides the running Banquet of two Beadles, that is to come. Enter Lord Chamberlaine.
Cham. Mercy o' me: what a Multitude are heere? They grow still too; from all Parts they are comming, As if we kept a Faire heere? Where are these Porters? These lazy knaues? Y'haue made a fine hand fellowes? Theres a trim rabble let in: are all these Your faithfull friends o'th' Suburbs? We shall haue Great store of roome no doubt, left for the Ladies, When they passe backe from the Christening? Por. And't please your Honour, We are but men; and what so many may doe, Not being torne a pieces, we haue done: An Army cannot rule 'em Cham. As I liue, If the King blame me for't; Ile lay ye all By th' heeles, and sodainly: and on your heads Clap round Fines for neglect: y'are lazy knaues, And heere ye lye baiting of Bombards, when Ye should doe Seruice. Harke the Trumpets sound, Th'are come already from the Christening, Go breake among the preasse, and finde away out To let the Troope passe fairely; or Ile finde A Marshallsey, shall hold ye play these two Monthes Por. Make way there, for the Princesse Man. You great fellow, Stand close vp, or Ile make your head ake Por. You i'th' Chamblet, get vp o'th' raile, Ile pecke you o're the pales else. Exeunt. Scena Quarta. Enter Trumpets sounding: Then two Aldermen, L[ord]. Maior, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolke with his Marshals Staffe, Duke of Suffolke, two Noblemen, bearing great standing Bowles for the Christening Guifts: Then foure Noblemen bearing a Canopy, vnder which the Dutchesse of Norfolke, Godmother, bearing the Childe richly habited in a Mantle, &c. Traine borne by a Lady: Then followes the Marchionesse Dorset, the other Godmother, and Ladies. The Troope passe once about the Stage, and Garter speakes.
Kin. Thou speakest wonders Cran. She shall be to the happinesse of England, An aged Princesse; many dayes shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to Crowne it. Would I had knowne no more: But she must dye, She must, the Saints must haue her; yet a Virgin, A most vnspotted Lilly shall she passe To th' ground, and all the World shall mourne her Kin. O Lord Archbishop Thou hast made me now a man, neuer before This happy Child, did I get any thing. This Oracle of comfort, ha's so pleas'd me, That when I am in Heauen, I shall desire To see what this Child does, and praise my Maker. I thanke ye all. To you my good Lord Maior, And you good Brethren, I am much beholding: I haue receiu'd much Honour by your presence, And ye shall find me thankfull. Lead the way Lords, Ye must all see the Queene, and she must thanke ye, She will be sicke els. This day, no man thinke 'Has businesse at his house; for all shall stay: This Little-One shall make it Holy-day. Exeunt. THE EPILOGVE. Tis ten to one, this Play can neuer please All that are heere: Some come to take their ease, And sleepe an Act or two; but those we feare W'haue frighted with our Trumpets: so 'tis cleare, They'l say tis naught. Others to heare the City Abus'd extreamly, and to cry that's witty, Which wee haue not done neither; that I feare All the expected good w'are like to heare. For this Play at this time, is onely in The mercifull construction of good women, For such a one we shew'd 'em: If they smile, And say twill doe; I know within a while, All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, If they hold, when their Ladies bid 'em clap.
Menen. Nay these are almost thoroughly perswaded: For though abundantly they lacke discretion Yet are they passing Cowardly. But I beseech you, What sayes the other Troope? Mar. They are dissolu'd: Hang em; They said they were an hungry, sigh'd forth Prouerbes That Hunger-broke stone wals: that dogges must eate That meate was made for mouths. That the gods sent not Corne for the Richmen onely: With these shreds They vented their Complainings, which being answer'd And a petition granted them, a strange one, To breake the heart of generosity, And make bold power looke pale, they threw their caps As they would hang them on the hornes a'th Moone, Shooting their Emulation Menen. What is graunted them? Mar. Fiue Tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms Of their owne choice. One's Iunius Brutus, Sicinius Velutus, and I know not. Sdeath, The rabble should haue first vnroo'st the City Ere so preuayl'd with me; it will in time Win vpon power, and throw forth greater Theames For Insurrections arguing Menen. This is strange Mar. Go get you home you Fragments. Enter a Messenger hastily. Mess. Where's Caius Martius? Mar. Heere: what's the matter! Mes. The newes is sir, the Volcies are in Armes Mar. I am glad on't, then we shall ha meanes to vent Our mustie superfluity. See our best Elders. Enter Sicinius Velutus, Annius Brutus Cominius, Titus Lartius, with other Senatours.
1.Sen. Martius 'tis true, that you haue lately told vs, The Volces are in Armes Mar. They haue a Leader, Tullus Auffidius that will put you too't: I sinne in enuying his Nobility: And were I any thing but what I am, I would wish me onely he Com. You haue fought together? Mar. Were halfe to halfe the world by th' eares, & he vpon my partie, I'de reuolt to make Onely my warres with him. He is a Lion That I am proud to hunt 1.Sen. Then worthy Martius, Attend vpon Cominius to these Warres Com. It is your former promise Mar. Sir it is, And I am constant: Titus Lucius, thou Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus face. What art thou stiffe? Stand'st out? Tit. No Caius Martius, Ile leane vpon one Crutch, and fight with tother, Ere stay behinde this Businesse Men. Oh true-bred Sen. Your Company to'th' Capitoll, where I know Our greatest Friends attend vs Tit. Lead you on: Follow Cominius, we must followe you, right worthy your Priority Com. Noble Martius Sen. Hence to your homes, be gone Mar. Nay let them follow, The Volces haue much Corne: take these Rats thither, To gnaw their Garners. Worshipfull Mutiners, Your valour puts well forth: Pray follow. Exeunt. Citizens steale away. Manet Sicin. & Brutus.
Virg. But had he died in the Businesse Madame, how then? Volum. Then his good report should haue beene my Sonne, I therein would haue found issue. Heare me professe sincerely, had I a dozen sons each in my loue alike, and none lesse deere then thine, and my good Martius, I had rather had eleuen dye Nobly for their Countrey, then one voluptuously surfet out of Action. Enter a Gentlewoman. Gent. Madam, the lady Valeria is come to visit you Virg. Beseech you giue me leaue to retire my selfe Volum. Indeed you shall not: Me thinkes, I heare hither your Husbands Drumme: See him plucke Auffidius downe by th' haire: (As children from a Beare) the Volces shunning him: Me thinkes I see him stampe thus, and call thus, Come on you Cowards, you were got in feare Though you were borne in Rome; his bloody brow With his mail'd hand, then wiping, forth he goes Like to a Haruest man, that task'd to mowe Or all, or loose his hyre Virg. His bloody Brow? Oh Iupiter, no blood Volum. Away you Foole; it more becomes a man Then gilt his Trophe. The brests of Hecuba When she did suckle Hector, look'd not louelier Then Hectors forhead, when it spit forth blood At Grecian sword. Contenning, tell Valeria We are fit to bid her welcome.
Virg. Giue me excuse good Madame, I will obey you in euery thing heereafter Vol. Let her alone Ladie, as she is now: She will but disease our better mirth Valeria. In troth I thinke she would: Fare you well then. Come good sweet Ladie. Prythee Virgilia turne thy solemnesse out a doore, And go along with vs Virgil. No At a word Madam; Indeed I must not, I wish you much mirth Val. Well, then farewell. Exeunt. Ladies. Enter Martius, Titus Lartius, with Drumme and Colours, with Captaines and Souldiers, as before the City Corialus: to them a Messenger. Martius. Yonder comes Newes: A Wager they haue met Lar. My horse to yours, no Mar. Tis done Lart. Agreed Mar. Say, ha's our Generall met the Enemy? Mess. They lye in view, but haue not spoke as yet Lart. So, the good Horse is mine Mart. Ile buy him of you Lart. No, Ile nor sel, nor giue him: Lend you him I will For halfe a hundred yeares: Summon the Towne Mar. How farre off lie these Armies? Mess. Within this mile and halfe Mar. Then shall we heare their Larum, & they Ours. Now Mars, I prythee make vs quicke in worke, That we with smoaking swords may march from hence To helpe our fielded Friends. Come, blow thy blast.
They Sound a Parley: Enter two Senators with others on the Walles of Corialus. Tullus Auffidious, is he within your Walles? 1.Senat. No, nor a man that feares you lesse then he, That's lesser then a little: Drum a farre off. Hearke, our Drummes Are bringing forth our youth: Wee'l breake our Walles Rather then they shall pound vs vp our Gates, Which yet seeme shut, we haue but pin'd with Rushes, They'le open of themselues. Harke you, farre off Alarum farre off. There is Auffidious. List what worke he makes Among'st your clouen Army Mart. Oh they are at it Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders hoa. Enter the Army of the Volces. Mar. They feare vs not, but issue forth their Citie. Now put your Shields before your hearts, and fight With hearts more proofe then Shields. Aduance braue Titus, They do disdaine vs much beyond our Thoughts, which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on my fellows He that retires, Ile take him for a Volce, And he shall feele mine edge. Alarum, the Romans are beat back to their Trenches Enter Martius Cursing. Mar. All the contagion of the South, light on you, You Shames of Rome: you Heard of Byles and Plagues Plaister you o're, that you may be abhorr'd Farther then seene, and one infect another Against the Winde a mile: you soules of Geese, That beare the shapes of men, how haue you run From Slaues, that Apes would beate; Pluto and Hell, All hurt behinde, backes red, and faces pale With flight and agued feare, mend and charge home, Or by the fires of heauen, Ile leaue the Foe, And make my Warres on you: Looke too't: Come on, If you'l stand fast, wee'l beate them to their Wiues, As they vs to our Trenches followes.
Ideas discussed in this chapter
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