Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,


Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear


And take the present horror from the time,


Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:


Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.


I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.


That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold;


What hath quenchd them hath given me fire.


It was the owl that shriekd, the fatal bellman,


Which gives the sternst good-night. He is about it:


The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms


Do mock their charge with snores: I have druggd


That death and nature do contend about them,


And tis not done. The attempt and not the deed


Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready;


He could not miss em. Had he not resembled


I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise?


I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.


A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.


Theres one did laugh ins sleep, and one cried


That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them:


But they did say their prayers, and addressd them


One cried God bless us! and Amen the other;


As they had seen me with these hangmans hands.


Listening their fear, I could not say Amen,


But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen?


After these ways; so, it will make us mad.


Methought I heard a voice cry Sleep no more!


Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep,


Sleep that knits up the ravelld sleeve of care,


The death of each days life, sore labours bath,


Balm of hurt minds, great natures second course,


Still it cried Sleep no more! to all the house:


Glamis hath murderd sleep, and therefore Cawdor


Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.


Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,


You do unbend your noble strength, to think


So brainsickly of things. Go get some water,


And wash this filthy witness from your hand.


Why did you bring these daggers from the place?


They must lie there: go carry them; and smear


Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead


Are but as pictures: tis the eye of childhood


That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,


Ill gild the faces of the grooms withal;


How ist with me, when every noise appals me?


What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes.


Will all great Neptunes ocean wash this blood


Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather


My hands are of your colour; but I shame


At the south entry: retire we to our chamber;


Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us,


To know my deed, twere best not know myself.


Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!


man were porter of hell-gate, he should have


himself on the expectation of plenty: come in


name? Faith, heres an equivocator, that could


swear in both the scales against either scale;


who committed treason enough for Gods sake,


yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come


knock, knock! Whos there? Faith, heres an


English tailor come hither, for stealing out of


a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may


knock; never at quiet! What are you? But


this place is too cold for hell. Ill devil-porter


it no further: I had thought to have let in


some of all professions that go the primrose


Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.


Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,


What three things does drink especially provoke?


urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes;


away the performance: therefore, much drink


may be said to be an equivocator with lechery:


him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him,


and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and


not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him


in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him.


I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.


me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I


think, being too strong for him, though he took


up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast


Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.


He did command me to call timely on him:


The night has been unruly: where we lay,


Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,


Lamentings heard i the air; strange screams of death,


New hatchd to the woeful time: the obscure bird


Clamourd the livelong night: some say, the earth


O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart


Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!


The Lords anointed temple, and stole thence


Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight


Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!


Shake off this downy sleep, deaths counterfeit,


And look on death itself! up, up, and see


As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,


To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.


That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley


The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!


Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:


Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,


Had I but died an hour before this chance,


I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,


All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;


The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees


The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood


Is stoppd; the very source of it is stoppd.


Those of his chamber, as it seemd, had done t:


Their hands and faces were an badged with blood;


So were their daggers, which unwiped we found


They stared, and were distracted; no mans life


Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious,


Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan,


His silver skin laced with his golden blood;


And his gashd stabs lookd like a breach in nature


For ruins wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,


Steepd in the colours of their trade, their daggers


Unmannerly breechd with gore: who could refrain,


That had a heart to love, and in that heart


[Aside to DONALBAIN]  Why do we hold our tongues,


That most may claim this argument for ours?


[Aside to MALCOLM]  What should be spoken here,


Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us?


[Aside to DONALBAIN]        Nor our strong sorrow


And when we have our naked frailties hid,


And question this most bloody piece of work,


To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:


In the great hand of God I stand; and thence


What will you do? Lets not consort with them:


Which the false man does easy. Ill to England.


Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,


Theres daggers in mens smiles: the near in blood,


Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way


Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;


And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,


But shift away: theres warrant in that theft


Which steals itself, when theres no mercy left.


Within the volume of which time I have seen


Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night


Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with mans act,


Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, tis day,


And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:


Ist nights predominance, or the days shame,


That darkness does the face of earth entomb,


Even like the deed thats done. On Tuesday last,


A falcon, towering in her pride of place,


Was by a mousing owl hawkd at and killd.


And Duncans horses--a thing most strange and certain--


Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,


Turnd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,


Contending gainst obedience, as they would make


They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes


That lookd upont. Here comes the good Macduff.


Ist known who did this more than bloody deed?


Malcolm and Donalbain, the kings two sons,


Are stoln away and fled; which puts upon them


Thine own lifes means! Then tis most like


The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,


Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!


Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!


Gods benison go with you; and with those


That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!


Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,


As the weird women promised, and, I fear,


Thou playdst most foully fort: yet it was said


But that myself should be the root and father


Of many kings. If there come truth from them--


As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine--


And set me up in hope? But hush! no more.


Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY  MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants


It had been as a gap in our great feast,


We should have else desired your good advice,


Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,


In this days council; but well take to-morrow.


As far, my lord, as will fill up the time


Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,


In England and in Ireland, not confessing


Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers


With strange invention: but of that to-morrow,


When therewithal we shall have cause of state


Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,


Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?


Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon s.


I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;


And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.


The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself


Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you!


Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant


Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men


They are, my lord, without the palace gate.


But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo


Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature


Reigns that which would be feard: tis much he dares;


And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,


He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour


Mark Antonys was by Caesar. He chid the sisters


When first they put the name of king upon me,


And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like


They haild him father to a line of kings:


Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,


Thence to be wrenchd with an unlineal hand,


For them the gracious Duncan have I murderd;


To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!


Rather than so, come fate into the list.


And champion me to the utterance! Whos there!


Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.


That it was he in the times past which held you


So under fortune, which you thought had been


Our innocent self: this I made good to you


In our last conference, passd in probation with you,


Who wrought with them, and all things else that might


I did so, and went further, which is now


Our point of second meeting. Do you find


Your patience so predominant in your nature


That you can let this go? Are you so gospelld


To pray for this good man and for his issue,


Whose heavy hand hath bowd you to the grave


As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,


Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept


All by the name of dogs: the valued file


Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,


According to the gift which bounteous nature


Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive


That writes them all alike: and so of men.


And I will put that business in your bosoms,


Grapples you to the heart and love of us,


Who wear our health but sickly in his life,


Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world


Have so incensed that I am reckless what


So weary with disasters, tuggd with fortune,


So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,


Against my nearst of life: and though I could


With barefaced power sweep him from my sight


And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,


For certain friends that are both his and mine,


Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall


Who I myself struck down; and thence it is,


Masking the business from the common eye


Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most


I will advise you where to plant yourselves;


Acquaint you with the perfect spy o the time,


The moment ont; fort must be done to-night,


And something from the palace; always thought


That I require a clearness: and with him--


To leave no rubs nor botches in the work--


Fleance his son, that keeps him company,


Than is his fathers, must embrace the fate


Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart:


Ill call upon you straight: abide within.


It is concluded. Banquo, thy souls flight,


If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.


Say to the king, I would attend his leisure


Where our desire is got without content:


Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.


How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,


Of sorriest fancies your companions making,


Using those thoughts which should indeed have died


With them they think on? Things without all remedy


Should be without regard: whats done is done.


We have scotchd the snake, not killd it:


Shell close and be herself, whilst our poor malice


But let the frame of things disjoint, both the


Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep


In the affliction of these terrible dreams


That shake us nightly: better be with the dead,


Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,


In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;


After lifes fitful fever he sleeps well;


Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,


Gentle my lord, sleek oer your rugged looks;


Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.


So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:


Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:


Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,


And make our faces vizards to our hearts,


O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!


Thou knowst that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.


Theres comfort yet; they are assailable;


Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown


His cloisterd flight, ere to black Hecates summons


The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums


Hath rung nights yawning peal, there shall be done


Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,


Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,


Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond


Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow


Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;


While nights black agents to their preys do rouse.


Thou marvellst at my words: but hold thee still;


Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.


He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers


The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:


To gain the timely inn; and near approaches


So all men do, from hence to the palace gate


O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!


Well, lets away, and say how much is done.


A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants


You know your own degrees; sit down: at first


Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time


Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;


See, they encounter thee with their hearts thanks.


Both sides are even: here Ill sit i the midst:


Be large in mirth; anon well drink a measure


My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.


Thou art the best o the cut-throats: yet hes good


That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,


Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect,


Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,


But now I am cabind, cribbd, confined, bound in


To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquos safe?


Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,


With twenty trenched gashes on his head;


There the grown serpent lies; the worm thats fled


Hath nature that in time will venom breed,


No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow


You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold


That is not often vouchd, while tis a-making,


Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home;


From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;


The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETHs place


Here had we now our countrys honour roofd,


Were the graced person of our Banquo present;


Who may I rather challenge for unkindness


Lays blame upon his promise. Pleaset your highness


Here, my good lord. What ist that moves your highness?


Thou canst not say I did it: never shake


Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.


Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus,


And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;


He will again be well: if much you note him,


You shall offend him and extend his passion:


Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man?


Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that


This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,


Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts,


Impostors to true fear, would well become


Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself!


Why do you make such faces? When alls done,


Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.


If charnel-houses and our graves must send


Blood hath been shed ere now, i the olden time,


Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;


Ay, and since too, murders have been performd


Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,


That, when the brains were out, the man would die,


And there an end; but now they rise again,


With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,


And push us from our stools: this is more strange


Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends,


I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing


To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;


Then Ill sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.


I drink to the general joy o the whole table,


And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;


Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,


Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!


Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;


Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.


Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,


The armd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;


Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves


And dare me to the desert with thy sword;


The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!


You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,


Without our special wonder? You make me strange


When now I think you can behold such sights,


And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,


I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;


Question enrages him. At once, good night:


It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:


Stones have been known to move and trees to speak;


By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth


The secretst man of blood. What is the night?


Almost at odds with morning, which is which.


How sayst thou, that Macduff denies his person


Theres not a one of them but in his house


I keep a servant feed. I will to-morrow,


And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:


More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,


By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,


All causes shall give way: I am in blood


Steppd in so far that, should I wade no more,


Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;


Which must be acted ere they may be scannd.


You lack the season of all natures, sleep.


Come, well to sleep. My strange and self-abuse


Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:


Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE


Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,


Great business must be wrought ere noon:


He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear


Music and a song within: Come away, come away,  and c


Hark! I am calld; my little spirit, see,


Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.


Come, lets make haste; shell soon be back again.


My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,


Which can interpret further: only, I say,


Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead:


And the right-valiant Banquo walkd too late;


Whom, you may say, ift please you, Fleance killd,


For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.


Who cannot want the thought how monstrous


To kill their gracious father? damned fact!


How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight


That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?


Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;


He has borne all things well: and I do think


That had he Duncans sons under his key--


As, ant please heaven, he shall not--they


What twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.


But, peace! for from broad words and cause he faild


His presence at the tyrants feast, I hear


Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell


From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth


Lives in the English court, and is received


Of the most pious Edward with such grace


Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff


Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid


To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward:


That, by the help of these--with Him above


Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,


Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,


Do faithful homage and receive free honours:


All which we pine for now: and this report


He did: and with an absolute Sir, not I,


And hums, as who should say Youll rue the time


Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance


His message ere he come, that a swift blessing


May soon return to this our suffering country


SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.


How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!


I conjure you, by that which you profess,


Though you untie the winds and let them fight


Against the churches; though the yesty waves


Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down;


Though castles topple on their warders heads;


Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure


Say, if thoudst rather hear it from our mouths,


Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head


Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;


Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.


Whateer thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;


He will not be commanded: heres another,


Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child


Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn


The power of man, for none of woman born


Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?


And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;


That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,


Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand


Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care


Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:


Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill


Who can impress the forest, bid the tree


Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good!


Rebellions head, rise never till the wood


Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth


Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath


Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art


Can tell so much: shall Banquos issue ever


And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.


Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?


A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following


Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down!


Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair,


Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.


A third is like the former. Filthy hags!


Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!


What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?


Another yet! A seventh! Ill see no more:


And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass


Which shows me many more; and some I see


That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:


For the blood-bolterd Banquo smiles upon me,


Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE


Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour


And damnd all those that trust them! I did hear


The galloping of horse: who wast came by?


Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word


Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits:


Unless the deed go with it; from this moment


The very firstlings of my heart shall be


The firstlings of my hand. And even now,


To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:


Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o the sword


His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls


That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;


This deed Ill do before this purpose cool.


But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen?


What had he done, to make him fly the land?


His flight was madness: when our actions do not,


Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,


From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;


He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,


The most diminutive of birds, will fight,


Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.


All is the fear and nothing is the love;


As little is the wisdom, where the flight


I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,


He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows


But cruel are the times, when we are traitors


And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour


From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,


Each way and move. I take my leave of you:


Shall not be long but Ill be here again:


Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward


To what they were before. My pretty cousin,


I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,


It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:


And what will you do now? How will you live?


With what I get, I mean; and so do they.


Poor bird! thouldst never fear the net nor lime,


Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.


My father is not dead, for all your saying.


Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?


Thou speakst with all thy wit: and yet, i faith,


Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.


And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?


for there are liars and swearers enow to beat


him: if you would not, it were a good sign


that I should quickly have a new father.


Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,


Though in your state of honour I am perfect.


I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:


Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.


To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;


Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!


I am in this earthly world; where to do harm


Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,


Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying Murder! Exeunt Murderers, following her


SCENE III. England. Before the Kings palace.


Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there


Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men


Bestride our down-falln birthdom: each new morn


New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows


Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds


As if it felt with Scotland and yelld out


What know believe, and what I can redress,


As I shall find the time to friend, I will.


What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.


This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,


Was once thought honest: you have loved him well.


You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom


In an imperial charge. But I shall crave


That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose:


Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;


Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,


Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.


Why in that rawness left you wife and child,


Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,


Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,


But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just,


For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou


The title is affeerd! Fare thee well, lord:


I would not be the villain that thou thinkst


For the whole space thats in the tyrants grasp,


I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;


It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash


There would be hands uplifted in my right;


And here from gracious England have I offer


When I shall tread upon the tyrants head,


Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country


Shall have more vices than it had before,


More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,


That, when they shall be opend, black Macbeth


Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state


Of horrid hell can come a devil more damnd


Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,


Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin


That has a name: but theres no bottom, none,


In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,


Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up


The untimely emptying of the happy throne


And fall of many kings. But fear not yet


Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,


And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.


We have willing dames enough: there cannot be


As will to greatness dedicate themselves,


I should cut off the nobles for their lands,


Desire his jewels and this others house:


To make me hunger more; that I should forge


Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,


Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root


Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been


The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;


Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will.


Of your mere own: all these are portable,


But I have none: the king-becoming graces,


As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,


Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should


Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,


With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepterd,


When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,


Since that the truest issue of thy throne


By his own interdiction stands accursed,


And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father


Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,


Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,


Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!


Have banishd me from Scotland. O my breast,


Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts


To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth


By many of these trains hath sought to win me


Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me


From over-credulous haste: but God above


Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure


The taints and blames I laid upon myself,


Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,


At no time broke my faith, would not betray


No less in truth than life: my first false speaking


Is thine and my poor countrys to command:


Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,


Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,


Now well together; and the chance of goodness


Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?


Such welcome and unwelcome things at once


Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?


Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls


That stay his cure: their malady convinces


The great assay of art; but at his touch--


Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand--


A most miraculous work in this good king;


Which often, since my here-remain in England,


I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,


Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,


All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,


Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,


Put on with holy prayers: and tis spoken,


The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,


And sundry blessings hang about his throne,


I know him now. Good God, betimes remove


Be calld our mother, but our grave; where nothing,


But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;


Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air


Are made, not markd; where violent sorrow seems


Is there scarce askd for who; and good mens lives


Expire before the flowers in their caps,


That of an hours age doth hiss the speaker:


The tyrant has not batterd at their peace?


No; they were well at peace when I did leave em.


But not a niggard of your speech: how goest?


When I came hither to transport the tidings,


Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour


Which was to my belief witnessd the rather,


For that I saw the tyrants power a-foot:


Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland


Would create soldiers, make our women fight,


We are coming thither: gracious England hath


Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;


This comfort with the like! But I have words


That would be howld out in the desert air,


But in it shares some woe; though the main part


Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.


Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,


Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound


Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes


Savagely slaughterd: to relate the manner,


Were, on the quarry of these murderd deer,


What, man! neer pull your hat upon your brows;


Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak


Whispers the oer-fraught heart and bids it break.


Lets make us medicines of our great revenge,


What, all my pretty chickens and their dam


That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,


And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,


They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,


Not for their own demerits, but for mine,


Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!


Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief


Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.


O, I could play the woman with mine eyes


And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,


Cut short all intermission; front to front


Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;


Within my swords length set him; if he scape,


Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;


Our lack is nothing but our leave; Macbeth


Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above


Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may:


The night is long that never finds the day.


SCENE I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.


Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman


I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive


no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?


Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen


her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon


her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,


write upont, read it, afterwards seal it, and again


return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.


A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once


the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of


watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her


walking and other actual performances, what, at any


That, sir, which I will not report after her.


You may to me: and tis most meet you should.


Neither to you nor any one; having no witness to


Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise;


and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.


Why, it stood by her: she has light by her


What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.


It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus


washing her hands: I have known her continue in


Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from


her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.


Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why,


then, tis time to dot.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my


lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we


fear who knows it, when none can call our power to


account?--Yet who would have thought the old man


The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?--


What, will these hands neer be clean?--No more o


that, my lord, no more o that: you mar all with


Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.


She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of


Heres the smell of the blood still: all the


perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little


What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.


I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the


This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known


those which have walked in their sleep who have died


Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so


pale.--I tell you yet again, Banquos buried; he


To bed, to bed! theres knocking at the gate:


come, come, come, come, give me your hand. Whats


done cannot be undone.--To bed, to bed, to bed!


Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds


Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds


To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets:


More needs she the divine than the physician.


God, God forgive us all! Look after her;


Remove from her the means of all annoyance,


And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night:


My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.


Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers


The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,


Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes


Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm


Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.


Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?


For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file


Of all the gentry: there is Siwards son,


Some say hes mad; others that lesser hate him


Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,


His secret murders sticking on his hands;


Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;


Nothing in love: now does he feel his title


Hang loose about him, like a giants robe


When all that is within him does condemn


Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,


And with him pour we in our countrys purge


To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.


SCENE III. Dunsinane. A room in the castle.


Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:


I cannot taint with fear. Whats the boy Malcolm?


Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know


All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:


Fear not, Macbeth; no man thats born of woman


Shall eer have power upon thee. Then fly,


Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.


The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!


Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,


Thou lily-liverd boy. What soldiers, patch?


Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine


Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?


When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push


I have lived long enough: my way of life


Is falln into the sear, the yellow leaf;


And that which should accompany old age,


As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,


I must not look to have; but, in their stead,


Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,


Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!


All is confirmd, my lord, which was reported.


Ill fight till from my bones my flesh be hackd.


Send out more horses; skirr the country round;


Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.


As she is troubled with thick coming fancies,


Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,


Raze out the written troubles of the brain


Cleanse the stuffd bosom of that perilous stuff


Throw physic to the dogs; Ill none of it.


Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.


Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from me.


Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast


And purge it to a sound and pristine health,


That should applaud again.--Pullt off, I say.--


What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,


Would scour these English hence? Hearst thou of them?


Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation


[Aside]  Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,


Profit again should hardly draw me here.


Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG  SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching


Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand


And beart before him: thereby shall we shadow


The numbers of our host and make discovery


We learn no other but the confident tyrant


Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure


For where there is advantage to be given,


Both more and less have given him the revolt,


And none serve with him but constrained things


That will with due decision make us know


What we shall say we have and what we owe.


Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,


But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:


Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum and colours


Hang out our banners on the outward walls;


The cry is still They come: our castles strength


Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie


Were they not forced with those that should be ours,


We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,


I have almost forgot the taste of fears;


The time has been, my senses would have coold


To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair


Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir


As life were int: I have suppd full with horrors;


Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts


There would have been a time for such a word.


To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,


Creeps in this petty pace from day to day


And all our yesterdays have lighted fools


The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!


Lifes but a walking shadow, a poor player


That struts and frets his hour upon the stage


Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,


Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.


I lookd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,


Let me endure your wrath, ift be not so:


Within this three mile may you see it coming;


Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,


Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,


That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood


Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!


There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.


And wish the estate o the world were now undone.


Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack!


At least well die with harness on our back.


Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, and their Army, with boughs


Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down.


And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,


Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,


Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we


Shall take upon s what else remains to do,


Do we but find the tyrants power to-night,


Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,


Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.


They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,


But, bear-like, I must fight the course. Whats he


No; though thou callst thyself a hotter name


The devil himself could not pronounce a title


Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword


But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,


That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!


If thou best slain and with no stroke of mine,


My wife and childrens ghosts will haunt me still.


I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms


Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,


I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;


By this great clatter, one of greatest note


Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!


This way, my lord; the castles gently renderd:


The tyrants people on both sides do fight;


Why should I play the Roman fool, and die


On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes


But get thee back; my soul is too much charged


My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain


With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:


Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;


I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,


And let the angel whom thou still hast served


Tell thee, Macduff was from his mothers womb


Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,


And be these juggling fiends no more believed,


That keep the word of promise to our ear,


And break it to our hope. Ill not fight with thee.


And live to be the show and gaze o the time:


Well have thee, as our rarer monsters are,


To kiss the ground before young Malcolms feet,


And to be baited with the rabbles curse.


Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,


And thou opposed, being of no woman born,


I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,


And damnd be him that first cries, Hold, enough!


Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers


I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.


Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,


So great a day as this is cheaply bought.


Your son, my lord, has paid a soldiers debt:


The which no sooner had his prowess confirmd


In the unshrinking station where he fought,


Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow


Must not be measured by his worth, for then


I would not wish them to a fairer death:


They say he parted well, and paid his score:


And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.


Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands


The usurpers cursed head: the time is free:


I see thee compassd with thy kingdoms pearl,


That speak my salutation in their minds;


We shall not spend a large expense of time


Before we reckon with your several loves,


And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,


Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland


In such an honour named. Whats more to do,


Which would be planted newly with the time,


As calling home our exiled friends abroad


That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;


Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,


Who, as tis thought, by self and violent hands


Took off her life; this, and what needful else


That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,


We will perform in measure, time and place:


So, thanks to all at once and to each one,


Whom we invite to see us crownd at Scone.


SCENE I. An apartment in the DUKES palace.


Enter DUKE VINCENTIO, ESCALUS, Lords and Attendants


Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse;


Since I am put to know that your own science


Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice


My strength can give you: then no more remains,


But that to your sufficiency as your Worth is able,


And let them work. The nature of our people,


For common justice, youre as pregnant in


That we remember. There is our commission,


From which we would not have you warp. Call hither,


What figure of us think you he will bear?


For you must know, we have with special soul


Lent him our terror, dressd him with our love,


There is a kind of character in thy life,


Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings


Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,


Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues


As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touchd


But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends


But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines


Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech


To one that can my part in him advertise;


Live in thy tongue and heart: old Escalus,


Though first in question, is thy secondary.


Let there be some more test made of my metal,


We have with a leavend and prepared choice


Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours.


Our haste from hence is of so quick condition


That it prefers itself and leaves unquestiond


Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,


As time and our concernings shall importune,


How it goes with us, and do look to know


What doth befall you here. So, fare you well;


That we may bring you something on the way.


Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do


With any scruple; your scope is as mine own


As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand:


But do not like to stage me to their eyes:


Through it do well, I do not relish well


Nor do I think the man of safe discretion


That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.


The heavens give safety to your purposes!


Lead forth and bring you back in happiness!


I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave


To have free speech with you; and it concerns me


A power I have, but of what strength and nature


Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together,


If the duke with the other dukes come not to


composition with the King of Hungary, why then all


Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of


Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that


went to sea with the Ten Commandments, but scraped


Why, twas a commandment to command the captain and


all the rest from their functions: they put forth


to steal. Theres not a soldier of us all, that, in


the thanksgiving before meat, do relish the petition


I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where


Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all


controversy: as, for example, thou thyself art a


Well, there went but a pair of shears between us.


I grant; as there may between the lists and the


And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thourt


a three-piled piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief


be a list of an English kersey as be piled, as thou


art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak


I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful


feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own


confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I


I think I have done myself wrong, have I not?


Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free.


Behold, behold. where Madam Mitigation comes! I


have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to--


Thou art always figuring diseases in me; but thou


Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound as


things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow;


How now! which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?


Well, well; theres one yonder arrested and carried


to prison was worth five thousand of you all.


Marry, sir, thats Claudio, Signior Claudio.


Nay, but I know tis so: I saw him arrested, saw


him carried away; and, which is more, within these


But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so.


I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam


Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two


Besides, you know, it draws something near to the


But, most of all, agreeing with the proclamation.


Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what


with the gallows and what with poverty, I am


What, is there a maid with child by him?


No, but theres a woman with maid by him. You have


not heard of the proclamation, have you?


All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.


And what shall become of those in the city?


They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too,


but that a wise burgher put in for them.


But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be


Why, heres a change indeed in the commonwealth!


Come; fear you not: good counsellors lack no


clients: though you change your place, you need not


change your trade; Ill be your tapster still.


Courage! there will be pity taken on you: you that


have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you


Whats to do here, Thomas tapster? lets withdraw.


Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to


Enter Provost, CLAUDIO, JULIET, and Officers


Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world?


Bear me to prison, where I am committed.


Make us pay down for our offence by weight


The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will;


On whom it will not, so; yet still tis just.


Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes this restraint?


From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty:


Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,


Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,


A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.


If could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would


send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say


the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom


as the morality of imprisonment. Whats thy


What but to speak of would offend again.


One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you.


Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract


From whom we thought it meet to hide our love


Till time had made them for us. But it chances


The stealth of our most mutual entertainment


With character too gross is writ on Juliet.


Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,


Who, newly in the seat, that it may know


He can command, lets it straight feel the spur;


Which have, like unscourd armour, hung by the wall


So long that nineteen zodiacs have gone round


And none of them been worn; and, for a name,


I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on


thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love,


may sigh it off. Send after the duke and appeal to


I have done so, but hes not to be found.


I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:


This day my sister should the cloister enter


Acquaint her with the danger of my state:


Implore her, in my voice, that she make friends


To the strict deputy; bid herself assay him:


I have great hope in that; for in her youth


There is a prone and speechless dialect,


Such as move men; beside, she hath prosperous art


When she will play with reason and discourse,


I pray she may; as well for the encouragement of the


like, which else would stand under grievous


imposition, as for the enjoying of thy life, who I


would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a


No, holy father; throw away that thought;


Believe not that the dribbling dart of love


Can pierce a complete bosom. Why I desire thee


To give me secret harbour, hath a purpose


More grave and wrinkled than the aims and ends


And held in idle price to haunt assemblies


Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps.


My absolute power and place here in Vienna,


For so I have strewd it in the common ear,


We have strict statutes and most biting laws.


The needful bits and curbs to headstrong weeds,


Which for this nineteen years we have let slip;


That goes not out to prey. Now, as fond fathers,


Having bound up the threatening twigs of birch,


Only to stick it in their childrens sight


Becomes more mockd than feard; so our decrees,


Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;


The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart


To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased:


And it in you more dreadful would have seemd


Sith twas my fault to give the people scope,


Twould be my tyranny to strike and gall them


For what I bid them do: for we bid this be done,


When evil deeds have their permissive pass


And not the punishment. Therefore indeed, my father,


Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home,


To do in slander. And to behold his sway,


I will, as twere a brother of your order,


Visit both prince and people: therefore, I prithee,


Supply me with the habit and instruct me


Like a true friar. More reasons for this action


Stands at a guard with envy; scarce confesses


That his blood flows, or that his appetite


Is more to bread than stone: hence shall we see,


If power change purpose, what our seemers be.


And have you nuns no farther privileges?


Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more;


But rather wishing a more strict restraint


Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.


Turn you the key, and know his business of him;


You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn.


When you have vowd, you must not speak with men


Then, if you speak, you must not show your face,


Or, if you show your face, you must not speak.


Peace and prosperity! Who ist that calls


Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses


Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me


A novice of this place and the fair sister


Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you:


Not to be weary with you, hes in prison.


For that which, if myself might be his judge,


He should receive his punishment in thanks:


With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest,


Tongue far from heart--play with all virgins so:


I hold you as a thing enskyd and sainted.


By your renouncement an immortal spirit,


You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.


Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, tis thus:


Your brother and his lover have embraced:


As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time


That from the seedness the bare fallow brings


To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb


Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.


Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?


Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names


The duke is very strangely gone from hence;


In hand and hope of action: but we do learn


By those that know the very nerves of state,


His givings-out were of an infinite distance


From his true-meant design. Upon his place,


The wanton stings and motions of the sense,


But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge


With profits of the mind, study and fast.


Which have for long run by the hideous law,


As mice by lions--hath pickd out an act,


Under whose heavy sense your brothers life


Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it;


And follows close the rigour of the statute,


To make him an example. All hope is gone,


Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer


To soften Angelo: and thats my pith of business


Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath


And make us lose the good we oft might win


By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo,


And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,


Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,


All their petitions are as freely theirs


No longer staying but to give the mother


Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you:


Ill send him certain word of my success.


Enter ANGELO, ESCALUS, and a Justice, Provost, Officers, and other Attendants, behind


We must not make a scarecrow of the law,


Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,


And let it keep one shape, till custom make it


Let us be keen, and rather cut a little,


Than fall, and bruise to death. Alas, this gentleman


Whom I would save, had a most noble father!


Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue,


That, in the working of your own affections,


Had time cohered with place or place with wishing,


Or that the resolute acting of your blood


Could have attaind the effect of your own purpose,


Whether you had not sometime in your life


Errd in this point which now you censure him,


The jury, passing on the prisoners life,


May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two


Guiltier than him they try. Whats open made to justice,


That thieves do pass on thieves? Tis very pregnant,


The jewel that we find, we stoop and taket


Because we see it; but what we do not see


For I have had such faults; but rather tell me,


Let mine own judgment pattern out my death,


And nothing come in partial. Sir, he must die.


Bring him his confessor, let him be prepared;


[Aside]  Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all!


Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall:


Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none:


Enter ELBOW, and Officers with FROTH and POMPEY


Come, bring them away: if these be good people in


a commonweal that do nothing but use their abuses in


common houses, I know no law: bring them away.


How now, sir! Whats your name? and whats the matter?


If it Please your honour, I am the poor dukes


constable, and my name is Elbow: I do lean upon


justice, sir, and do bring in here before your good


Benefactors? Well; what benefactors are they? are


If it? please your honour, I know not well what they


are: but precise villains they are, that I am sure


of; and void of all profanation in the world that


This comes off well; heres a wise officer.


Go to: what quality are they of? Elbow is your


He, sir! a tapster, sir; parcel-bawd; one that


serves a bad woman; whose house, sir, was, as they


say, plucked down in the suburbs; and now she


professes a hot-house, which, I think, is a very ill house too.


My wife, sir, whom I detest before heaven and your honour,--


Ay, sir; whom, I thank heaven, is an honest woman,--


I say, sir, I will detest myself also, as well as


she, that this house, if it be not a bawds house,


it is pity of her life, for it is a naughty house.


Marry, sir, by my wife; who, if she had been a woman


cardinally given, might have been accused in


fornication, adultery, and all uncleanliness there.


Ay, sir, by Mistress Overdones means: but as she


Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so.


Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable


Sir, she came in great with child; and longing,


saving your honours reverence, for stewed prunes;


sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very


distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a


dish of some three-pence; your honours have seen


such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very


Go to, go to: no matter for the dish, sir.


No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in


the right: but to the point. As I say, this


Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and


being great-bellied, and longing, as I said, for


prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said,


Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the


rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very


honestly; for, as you know, Master Froth, I could


Very well: you being then, if you be remembered,


cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes,--


Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be


remembered, that such a one and such a one were past


cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept very


Come, you are a tedious fool: to the purpose. What


was done to Elbows wife, that he hath cause to


complain of? Come me to what was done to her.


Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.


Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honours


leave. And, I beseech you, look into Master Froth


here, sir; a man of four-score pound a year; whose


father died at Hallowmas: wast not at Hallowmas,


Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir,


sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir; twas in


the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight


I have so; because it is an open room and good for winter.


Why, very well, then; I hope here be truths.


When nights are longest there: Ill take my leave.


And leave you to the hearing of the cause;


Hoping youll find good cause to whip them all.


I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship.


Now, sir, come on: what was done to Elbows wife, once more?


Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once.


I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.


Well, sir; what did this gentleman to her?


I beseech you, sir, look in this gentlemans face.


Good Master Froth, look upon his honour; tis for a


good purpose. Doth your honour mark his face?


Doth your honour see any harm in his face?


Ill be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst


thing about him. Good, then; if his face be the


worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do the


constables wife any harm? I would know that of


Hes in the right. Constable, what say you to it?


First, an it like you, the house is a respected


house; next, this is a respected fellow; and his


By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected


Varlet, thou liest; thou liest, wicked varlet! the


time has yet to come that she was ever respected


Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her.


Which is the wiser here? Justice or Iniquity? Is


O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked


Hannibal! I respected with her before I was married


to her! If ever I was respected with her, or she


with me, let not your worship think me the poor


dukes officer. Prove this, thou wicked Hannibal, or


Ill have mine action of battery on thee.


If he took you a box o the ear, you might have your


Marry, I thank your good worship for it. What ist


your worships pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?


Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him


that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him


continue in his courses till thou knowest what they


Marry, I thank your worship for it. Thou seest, thou


wicked varlet, now, whats come upon thee: thou art


to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue.


Nine! Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master


Froth, I would not have you acquainted with


tapsters: they will draw you, Master Froth, and you


will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no


I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never


come into any room in a tap-house, but I am drawn


Well, no more of it, Master Froth: farewell.


Come you hither to me, Master tapster. Whats your


Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you;


so that in the beastliest sense you are Pompey the


Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey,


howsoever you colour it in being a tapster, are you


not? come, tell me true: it shall be the better for you.


Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.


How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd? What


do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade?


But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it shall


Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the


Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will tot then.


If your worship will take order for the drabs and


the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.


There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you:


If you head and hang all that offend that way but


for ten year together, youll be glad to give out a


commission for more heads: if this law hold in


Vienna ten year, Ill rent the fairest house in it


after three-pence a bay: if you live to see this


Thank you, good Pompey; and, in requital of your


prophecy, hark you: I advise you, let me not find


you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever;


no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey,


I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd


Caesar to you; in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall


have you whipt: so, for this time, Pompey, fare you well.


I thank your worship for your good counsel:


but I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall


Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade:


The valiant heart is not whipt out of his trade.


Come hither to me, Master Elbow; come hither, Master


constable. How long have you been in this place of constable?


I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had


continued in it some time. You say, seven years together?


Alas, it hath been great pains to you. They do you


wrong to put you so oft upon t: are there not men


Faith, sir, few of any wit in such matters: as they


are chosen, they are glad to choose me for them; I


do it for some piece of money, and go through with


Look you bring me in the names of some six or seven,


Pardon is still the nurse of second woe:


But yet,--poor Claudio! There is no remedy.


Hes hearing of a cause; he will come straight


His pleasure; may be he will relent. Alas,


All sects, all ages smack of this vice; and he


Is it your will Claudio shall die tomorrow?


Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order?


Under your good correction, I have seen,


Do you your office, or give up your place,


What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet?


To some more fitter place, and that with speed.


Let have needful, but not lavish, means;


And most desire should meet the blow of justice;


For which I would not plead, but that I must;


For which I must not plead, but that I am


[Aside]  Heaven give thee moving graces!


Condemn the fault and not the actor of it?


Why, every faults condemnd ere it be done:


Mine were the very cipher of a function,


To fine the faults whose fine stands in record,


I had a brother, then. Heaven keep your honour!


[Aside to ISABELLA]  Givet not oer so: to him


Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown:


You are too cold; if you should need a pin,


You could not with more tame a tongue desire it:


Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,


And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.


Look, what I will not, that I cannot do.


But might you dot, and do the world no wrong,


If so your heart were touchd with that remorse


Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word.


May call it back again. Well, believe this,


Not the kings crown, nor the deputed sword,


The marshals truncheon, nor the judges robe,


Become them with one half so good a grace


You would have slipt like him; but he, like you,


And you were Isabel! should it then be thus?


No; I would tell what twere to be a judge,


Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;


And He that might the vantage best have took


If He, which is the top of judgment, should


But judge you as you are? O, think on that;


And mercy then will breathe within your lips,


It is the law, not I condemn your brother:


It should be thus with him: he must die tomorrow.


To-morrow! O, thats sudden! Spare him, spare him!


Hes not prepared for death. Even for our kitchens


We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven


To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you;


Who is it that hath died for this offence?


[Aside to ISABELLA]           Ay, well said.


The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept:


Those many had not dared to do that evil,


If the first that did the edict infringe


Takes note of what is done; and, like a prophet,


Looks in a glass, that shows what future evils,


Either new, or by remissness new-conceived,


And so in progress to be hatchd and born,


I show it most of all when I show justice;


Which a dismissd offence would after gall;


And do him right that, answering one foul wrong,


Your brother dies to-morrow; be content.


So you must be the first that gives this sentence,


And he, that suffers. O, it is excellent


To have a giants strength; but it is tyrannous


As Jove himself does, Jove would neer be quiet,


Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt


Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man,


Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven


As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,


[Aside to ISABELLA]  O, to him, to him, wench! he


We cannot weigh our brother with ourself:


Great men may jest with saints; tis wit in them,


That in the captains but a choleric word,


[Aside to ISABELLA]  Art avised o that? more on t.


Because authority, though it err like others,


That skins the vice o the top. Go to your bosom;


Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know


Thats like my brothers fault: if it confess


Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue


[Aside]                  She speaks, and tis


Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.


Hark how Ill bribe you: good my lord, turn back.


Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall share with you.


[Aside to ISABELLA]  You had marrd all else.


Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,


Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor


As fancy values them; but with true prayers


That shall be up at heaven and enter there


Ere sun-rise, prayers from preserved souls,


From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate


[Aside to ISABELLA]  Go to; tis well; away!


Whats this, whats this? Is this her fault or mine?


The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?


Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I


Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,


Than womans lightness? Having waste ground enough,


And pitch our evils there? O, fie, fie, fie!


What dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo?


Dost thou desire her foully for those things


That make her good? O, let her brother live!


Thieves for their robbery have authority


When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her,


And feast upon her eyes? What ist I dream on?


O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,


With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dangerous


To sin in loving virtue: never could the strumpet,


With all her double vigour, art and nature,


Once stir my temper; but this virtuous maid


When men were fond, I smiled and wonderd how.


Enter, severally, DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as a friar, and Provost


Hail to you, provost! so I think you are.


I am the provost. Whats your will, good friar?


Here in the prison. Do me the common right


The nature of their crimes, that I may minister


I would do more than that, if more were needful.


Look, here comes one: a gentlewoman of mine,


Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth,


Hath blisterd her report: she is with child;


And he that got it, sentenced; a young man


Repent you, fair one, of the sin you carry?


I do; and bear the shame most patiently.


Ill teach you how you shall arraign your conscience,


Yes, as I love the woman that wrongd him.


So then it seems your most offenceful act


Then was your sin of heavier kind than his.


Tis meet so, daughter: but lest you do repent,


As that the sin hath brought you to this shame,


Which sorrow is always towards ourselves, not heaven,


Showing we would not spare heaven as we love it,


Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow,


That respites me a life, whose very comfort


When I would pray and think, I think and pray


To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words;


Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,


And in my heart the strong and swelling evil


Of my conception. The state, whereon I studied


Grown feard and tedious; yea, my gravity,


Wherein--let no man hear me--I take pride,


Could I with boot change for an idle plume,


Which the air beats for vain. O place, O form,


How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit,


Wrench awe from fools and tie the wiser souls


To thy false seeming! Blood, thou art blood:


Lets write good angel on the devils horn:


One Isabel, a sister, desires access to you.


Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,


So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons;


Come all to help him, and so stop the air


The general, subject to a well-wishd king,


Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness


Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love


That you might know it, would much better please me


Than to demand what tis. Your brother cannot live.


When, I beseech you? that in his reprieve,


Ha! fie, these filthy vices! It were as good


To pardon him that hath from nature stolen


Their saucy sweetness that do coin heavens image


In stamps that are forbid: tis all as easy


Tis set down so in heaven, but not in earth.


Say you so? then I shall pose you quickly.


Which had you rather, that the most just law


Now took your brothers life; or, to redeem him,


Give up your body to such sweet uncleanness


I talk not of your soul: our compelld sins


Nay, Ill not warrant that; for I can speak


Against the thing I say. Answer to this:


Pronounce a sentence on your brothers life:


Pleased you to dot at peril of your soul,


Heaven let me bear it! you granting of my suit,


If that be sin, Ill make it my morn prayer


Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant,


Or seem so craftily; and thats not good.


Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good,


Thus wisdom wishes to appear most bright


When it doth tax itself; as these black masks


Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder


Than beauty could, displayd. But mark me;


To be received plain, Ill speak more gross:


But in the loss of question,--that you, his sister,


Finding yourself desired of such a person,


Whose credit with the judge, or own great place,


Could fetch your brother from the manacles


Of the all-building law; and that there were


No earthly mean to save him, but that either


You must lay down the treasures of your body


To this supposed, or else to let him suffer;


That is, were I under the terms of death,


The impression of keen whips Ild wear as rubies,


That longing have been sick for, ere Ild yield


Were not you then as cruel as the sentence


You seemd of late to make the law a tyrant;


And rather proved the sliding of your brother


O, pardon me, my lord; it oft falls out,


To have what we would have, we speak not what we mean:


Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;


Which are as easy broke as they make forms.


Women! Help Heaven! men their creation mar


In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail;


And from this testimony of your own sex,--


Since I suppose we are made to be no stronger


Than faults may shake our frames,--let me be bold;


I do arrest your words. Be that you are,


That is, a woman; if you be more, youre none;


I have no tongue but one: gentle my lord,


Let me entreat you speak the former language.


And you tell me that he shall die for it.


He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.


And most pernicious purpose! Seeming, seeming!


I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look fort:


Sign me a present pardon for my brother,


Or with an outstretchd throat Ill tell the world aloud


My unsoild name, the austereness of my life,


My vouch against you, and my place i the state,


That you shall stifle in your own report


And now I give my sensual race the rein:


Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,


That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother


But thy unkindness shall his death draw out


To lingering sufferance. Answer me to-morrow,


Or, by the affection that now guides me most,


Say what you can, my false oerweighs your true.


To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,


Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,


That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,


Bidding the law make courtsy to their will:


Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite,


To follow as it draws! Ill to my brother:


Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood,


Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour.


That, had he twenty heads to tender down


On twenty bloody blocks, held yield them up,


Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die:


And fit his mind to death, for his souls rest.


Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before, CLAUDIO, and Provost


So then you hope of pardon from Lord Angelo?


Ive hope to live, and am prepared to die.


Be absolute for death; either death or life


Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:


That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art,


That dost this habitation, where thou keepst,


Hourly afflict: merely, thou art deaths fool;


For him thou labourst by thy flight to shun


And yet runnst toward him still. Thou art not noble;


For all the accommodations that thou bearst


Are nursed by baseness. Thourt by no means valiant;


For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork


Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,


And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fearst


Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;


For thou existst on many a thousand grains


That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;


For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get,


And what thou hast, forgetst. Thou art not certain;


For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,


After the moon. If thou art rich, thourt poor;


For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,


Thou bears thy heavy riches but a journey,


And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;


For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,


Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,


For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,


But, as it were, an after-dinners sleep,


Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth


Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,


Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,


To make thy riches pleasant. Whats yet in this


That bears the name of life? Yet in this life


Lie hid moe thousand deaths: yet death we fear,


And, seeking death, find life: let it come on.


[Within]  What, ho! Peace here; grace and good company!


Whos there? come in: the wish deserves a welcome.


My business is a word or two with Claudio.


And very welcome. Look, signior, heres your sister.


Bring me to hear them speak, where I may be concealed.


As all comforts are; most good, most good indeed.


Where you shall be an everlasting leiger:


Therefore your best appointment make with speed;


None, but such remedy as, to save a head,


If youll implore it, that will free your life,


Ay, just; perpetual durance, a restraint,


Though all the worlds vastidity you had,


Would bark your honour from that trunk you bear,


O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake,


Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain,


Than a perpetual honour. Darest thou die?


The sense of death is most in apprehension;


And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,


In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great


There spake my brother; there my fathers grave


Did utter forth a voice. Yes, thou must die:


In base appliances. This outward-sainted deputy,


Whose settled visage and deliberate word


Nips youth i the head and follies doth emmew


His filth within being cast, he would appear


In prenzie guards! Dost thou think, Claudio?


Yes, he would givet thee, from this rank offence,


So to offend him still. This nights the time


Be ready, Claudio, for your death tomorrow.


That thus can make him bite the law by the nose,


When he would force it? Sure, it is no sin,


Or of the deadly seven, it is the least.


Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;


A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit


In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice;


And blown with restless violence round about


The pendent world; or to be worse than worst


Of those that lawless and incertain thought


The weariest and most loathed worldly life


What sin you do to save a brothers life,


From thine own sisters shame? What should I think?


Heaven shield my mother playd my father fair!


Neer issued from his blood. Take my defiance!


Reprieve thee from thy fate, it should proceed:


Ill pray a thousand prayers for thy death,


Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd:


Vouchsafe a word, young sister, but one word.


Might you dispense with your leisure, I would by and


by have some speech with you: the satisfaction I


would require is likewise your own benefit.


I have no superfluous leisure; my stay must be


stolen out of other affairs; but I will attend you awhile.


Son, I have overheard what hath passed between you


and your sister. Angelo had never the purpose to


corrupt her; only he hath made an essay of her


virtue to practise his judgment with the disposition


of natures: she, having the truth of honour in her,


hath made him that gracious denial which he is most


glad to receive. I am confessor to Angelo, and I


know this to be true; therefore prepare yourself to


death: do not satisfy your resolution with hopes


that are fallible: tomorrow you must die; go to


Let me ask my sister pardon. I am so out of love


with life that I will sue to be rid of it.


That now you are come, you will be gone. Leave me


awhile with the maid: my mind promises with my


habit no loss shall touch her by my company.


The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good:


the goodness that is cheap in beauty makes beauty


brief in goodness; but grace, being the soul of


your complexion, shall keep the body of it ever


fair. The assault that Angelo hath made to you,


fortune hath conveyed to my understanding; and, but


that frailty hath examples for his falling, I should


wonder at Angelo. How will you do to content this


I am now going to resolve him: I had rather my


brother die by the law than my son should be


unlawfully born. But, O, how much is the good duke


deceived in Angelo! If ever he return and I can


speak to him, I will open my lips in vain, or


That shall not be much amiss: Yet, as the matter


now stands, he will avoid your accusation; he made


trial of you only. Therefore fasten your ear on my


advisings: to the love I have in doing good a


remedy presents itself. I do make myself believe


that you may most uprighteously do a poor wronged


lady a merited benefit; redeem your brother from


the angry law; do no stain to your own gracious


person; and much please the absent duke, if


peradventure he shall ever return to have hearing of


Let me hear you speak farther. I have spirit to do


anything that appears not foul in the truth of my spirit.


Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Have


you not heard speak of Mariana, the sister of


Frederick the great soldier who miscarried at sea?


I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name.


She should this Angelo have married; was affianced


to her by oath, and the nuptial appointed: between


which time of the contract and limit of the


solemnity, her brother Frederick was wrecked at sea,


having in that perished vessel the dowry of his


sister. But mark how heavily this befell to the


poor gentlewoman: there she lost a noble and


renowned brother, in his love toward her ever most


kind and natural; with him, the portion and sinew of


her fortune, her marriage-dowry; with both, her


combinate husband, this well-seeming Angelo.


Can this be so? did Angelo so leave her?


Left her in her tears, and dried not one of them


with his comfort; swallowed his vows whole,


pretending in her discoveries of dishonour: in few,


bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet


wears for his sake; and he, a marble to her tears,


What a merit were it in death to take this poor maid


from the world! What corruption in this life, that


it will let this man live! But how out of this can she avail?


It is a rupture that you may easily heal: and the


cure of it not only saves your brother, but keeps


This forenamed maid hath yet in her the continuance


of her first affection: his unjust unkindness, that


in all reason should have quenched her love, hath,


like an impediment in the current, made it more


violent and unruly. Go you to Angelo; answer his


requiring with a plausible obedience; agree with


his demands to the point; only refer yourself to


this advantage, first, that your stay with him may


not be long; that the time may have all shadow and


silence in it; and the place answer to convenience.


This being granted in course,--and now follows


all,--we shall advise this wronged maid to stead up


your appointment, go in your place; if the encounter


acknowledge itself hereafter, it may compel him to


her recompense: and here, by this, is your brother


saved, your honour untainted, the poor Mariana


advantaged, and the corrupt deputy scaled. The maid


will I frame and make fit for his attempt. If you


think well to carry this as you may, the doubleness


of the benefit defends the deceit from reproof.


The image of it gives me content already; and I


trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection.


It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily


to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his


bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will


presently to Saint Lukes: there, at the moated


grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that


place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that


I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father.


Enter, on one side, DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before; on the other, ELBOW, and Officers with POMPEY


Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will


needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we


shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard.


Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the


merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by


order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and


furred with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that


craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.


Come your way, sir. Bless you, good father friar.


And you, good brother father. What offence hath


Marry, sir, he hath offended the law: and, sir, we


take him to be a thief too, sir; for we have found


upon him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have


That is thy means to live. Do thou but think


From such a filthy vice: say to thyself,


From their abominable and beastly touches


Canst thou believe thy living is a life,


So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend.


Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet,


Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin,


Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer:


Correction and instruction must both work


He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him


warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if


he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were


That we were all, as some would seem to be,


From our faults, as faults from seeming, free!


His neck will come to your waist,--a cord, sir.


I spy comfort; I cry bail. Heres a gentleman and a


How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of


Caesar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there


none of Pygmalions images, newly made woman, to be


had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and


extracting it clutchd? What reply, ha? What


sayest thou to this tune, matter and method? Ist


not drowned i the last rain, ha? What sayest


thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is


the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The


How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she


Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she


Why, tis good; it is the right of it; it must be


so: ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd:


an unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going


Why, tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell: go, say I


sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?


Well, then, imprison him: if imprisonment be the


due of a bawd, why, tis his right: bawd is he


doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born.


Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison,


Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you


I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.


No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear.


I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: If


you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the


more. Adieu, trusty Pompey. Bless you, friar.


Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar?


Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other


some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?


I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well.


It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from


the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born


to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he


A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in


him: something too crabbed that way, friar.


It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it.


Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred;


it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp


it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put


down. They say this Angelo was not made by man and


woman after this downright way of creation: is it


Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, that he


was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is


certain that when he makes water his urine is


congealed ice; that I know to be true: and he is a


Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the


rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a


man! Would the duke that is absent have done this?


Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a


hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing


a thousand: he had some feeling of the sport: he


knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy.


I never heard the absent duke much detected for


Who, not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and


his use was to put a ducat in her clack-dish: the


duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too;


Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the


duke: and I believe I know the cause of his


No, pardon; tis a secret must be locked within the


teeth and the lips: but this I can let you


understand, the greater file of the subject held the


A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.


Either this is the envy in you, folly, or mistaking:


the very stream of his life and the business he hath


helmed must upon a warranted need give him a better


proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own


bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the


envious a scholar, a statesman and a soldier.


Therefore you speak unskilfully: or if your


knowledge be more it is much darkened in your malice.


Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with


I can hardly believe that, since you know not what


you speak. But, if ever the duke return, as our


prayers are he may, let me desire you to make your


answer before him. If it be honest you have spoke,


you have courage to maintain it: I am bound to call


Sir, my name is Lucio; well known to the duke.


He shall know you better, sir, if I may live to


O, you hope the duke will return no more; or you


imagine me too unhurtful an opposite. But indeed I


can do you little harm; youll forswear this again.


Ill be hanged first: thou art deceived in me,


friar. But no more of this. Canst thou tell if


Why? For filling a bottle with a tundish. I would


the duke we talk of were returned again: the


ungenitured agent will unpeople the province with


continency; sparrows must not build in his


house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke


yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would


never bring them to light: would he were returned!


Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untrussing.


Farewell, good friar: I prithee, pray for me. The


duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on


Fridays. Hes not past it yet, and I say to thee,


he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown


bread and garlic: say that I said so. Farewell.


Can censure scape; back-wounding calumny


The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong


Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?


Enter ESCALUS, Provost, and Officers with MISTRESS OVERDONE


Good my lord, be good to me; your honour is accounted


Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in


the same kind! This would make mercy swear and play


A bawd of eleven years continuance, may it please


My lord, this is one Lucios information against me.


Mistress Kate Keepdown was with child by him in the


dukes time; he promised her marriage: his child


is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob:


I have kept it myself; and see how he goes about to abuse me!


That fellow is a fellow of much licence: let him be


called before us. Away with her to prison! Go to;


Provost, my brother Angelo will not be altered;


Claudio must die to-morrow: let him be furnished


with divines, and have all charitable preparation.


if my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be


So please you, this friar hath been with him, and


advised him for the entertainment of death.


Not of this country, though my chance is now


Of gracious order, late come from the See


None, but that there is so great a fever on


goodness, that the dissolution of it must cure it:


novelty is only in request; and it is as dangerous


to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous


to be constant in any undertaking. There is scarce


truth enough alive to make societies secure; but


security enough to make fellowships accurst: much


upon this riddle runs the wisdom of the world. This


news is old enough, yet it is every days news. I


pray you, sir, of what disposition was the duke?


One that, above all other strifes, contended


Rather rejoicing to see another merry, than merry at


any thing which professed to make him rejoice: a


gentleman of all temperance. But leave we him to


his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous;


and let me desire to know how you find Claudio


prepared. I am made to understand that you have


He professes to have received no sinister measure


from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself


to the determination of justice: yet had he framed


to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many


deceiving promises of life; which I by my good


leisure have discredited to him, and now is he


You have paid the heavens your function, and the


prisoner the very debt of your calling. I have


laboured for the poor gentleman to the extremest


shore of my modesty: but my brother justice have I


found so severe, that he hath forced me to tell him


If his own life answer the straitness of his


proceeding, it shall become him well; wherein if he


chance to fail, he hath sentenced himself.


I am going to visit the prisoner. Fare you well.


SCENE I. The moated grange at ST. LUKEs.


Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.


Break off thy song, and haste thee quick away:


Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice


Hath often stilld my brawling discontent.


Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before


I cry you mercy, sir; and well could wish


My mirth it much displeased, but pleased my woe.


Tis good; though music oft hath such a charm


To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.


I pray, you, tell me, hath any body inquired


for me here to-day? much upon this time have


I do constantly believe you. The time is come even


now. I shall crave your forbearance a little: may


be I will call upon you anon, for some advantage to yourself.


He hath a garden circummured with brick,


Whose western side is with a vineyard backd;


And to that vineyard is a planched gate,


That makes his opening with this bigger key:


Which from the vineyard to the garden leads;


But shall you on your knowledge find this way?


With whispering and most guilty diligence,


In action all of precept, he did show me


Between you greed concerning her observance?


And that I have possessd him my most stay


Can be but brief; for I have made him know


A word of this. What, ho! within! come forth!


I pray you, be acquainted with this maid;


Do you persuade yourself that I respect you?


Good friar, I know you do, and have found it.


Take, then, this your companion by the hand,


I shall attend your leisure: but make haste;


O place and greatness! millions of false eyes


Run with these false and most contrarious quests


Upon thy doings: thousand escapes of wit


Make thee the father of their idle dreams


Shell take the enterprise upon her, father,


When you depart from him, but, soft and low,


Nor, gentle daughter, fear you not at all.


Sith that the justice of your title to him


Doth flourish the deceit. Come, let us go:


Our corns to reap, for yet our tithes to sow.


Come hither, sirrah. Can you cut off a mans head?


If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a


married man, hes his wifes head, and I can never


Come, sir, leave me your snatches, and yield me a


direct answer. To-morrow morning are to die Claudio


and Barnardine. Here is in our prison a common


executioner, who in his office lacks a helper: if


you will take it on you to assist him, it shall


redeem you from your gyves; if not, you shall have


your full time of imprisonment and your deliverance


with an unpitied whipping, for you have been a


Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind;


but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I


would be glad to receive some instruction from my


What, ho! Abhorson! Wheres Abhorson, there?


Sirrah, heres a fellow will help you to-morrow in


your execution. If you think it meet, compound with


him by the year, and let him abide here with you; if


not, use him for the present and dismiss him. He


cannot plead his estimation with you; he hath been a bawd.


A bawd, sir? fie upon him! he will discredit our mystery.


Go to, sir; you weigh equally; a feather will turn


Pray, sir, by your good favour,--for surely, sir, a


good favour you have, but that you have a hanging


look,--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?


Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and


your whores, sir, being members of my occupation,


using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery:


but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I


Every true mans apparel fits your thief: if it be


too little for your thief, your true man thinks it


big enough; if it be too big for your thief, your


thief thinks it little enough: so every true mans


Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is


a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth


You, sirrah, provide your block and your axe


Come on, bawd; I will instruct thee in my trade; follow.


I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if you have


occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find


me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you


The one has my pity; not a jot the other,


Being a murderer, though he were my brother.


Look, heres the warrant, Claudio, for thy death:


Tis now dead midnight, and by eight to-morrow


Thou must be made immortal. Wheres Barnardine?


As fast lockd up in sleep as guiltless labour


When it lies starkly in the travellers bones:


Enter DUKE VINCENTIO disguised as before


The best and wholesomest spirts of the night


Envelope you, good Provost! Who calld here of late?


Even with the stroke and line of his great justice:


That in himself which he spurs on his power


To qualify in others: were he meald with that


Which he corrects, then were he tyrannous;


The steeled gaoler is the friend of men.


How now! what noise? That spirits possessed with haste


That wounds the unsisting postern with these strokes.


Have you no countermand for Claudio yet,


You something know; yet I believe there comes


No countermand; no such example have we:


My lord hath sent you this note; and by me this


further charge, that you swerve not from the


smallest article of it, neither in time, matter, or


other circumstance. Good morrow; for, as I take it,


[Aside]  This is his pardon, purchased by such sin


When vice makes mercy, mercys so extended,


That for the faults love is the offender friended.


I told you. Lord Angelo, belike thinking me remiss


in mine office, awakens me with this unwonted


putting-on; methinks strangely, for he hath not used it before.