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There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery.
Fal. They are fairies; he, that speaks to them,
shall die.

I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye. [lies down upon his face.

Eva. Where's Pede?-Go you, and where you find a maid,

That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;

But those as sleep, and think not on their sins, Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and shins.

Quick. About, about;

Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
'The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm, and every precious flower :
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hony soit qui mal y pense, write,
In emerald tufts, flowers, purple, blue, and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knight-hood's bending knee;
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: But, till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.
Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves

in order set;

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, To guide our measure round about the tree. But, stay; I smell a man of middle earth.

Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welch fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!

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Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives? See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes Become the forest better than the town?

Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?-Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, master Brook: and, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master Brook.

Mrs. F. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are

extant.

Fel. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a Jacka-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment!

Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave

your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray

Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in you. thy birth.

Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end:
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Pist. A trial, come.

Eva. Come, will this wood take fire? [they burn him with their tapers.

Fal. Oh, oh, oh! Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme: And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and iniquity.

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Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English.

Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seese and putter! have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of lust and hatewalking through the realm.

Mrs. P. Why, sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Mrs. P. A puffed man?

Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails?

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? | of your purpose; turned my daughter into green;
Page. And as poor as Job?
Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me; use me as you will.

Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction.

Mrs. F. Nay, husband. let that go to make amends:

Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends.

Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last. Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house; where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Mrs. P. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. Enter Slender.

[aside.

Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page! Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched?

Slen. Despatched! I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son?

Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: if it had not been i'the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy.

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.

Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by hor garments.

Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and the cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Eva. Jeshu! master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys?

Page. O, I am vexed at heart: what shall I do?
Mrs. P. Good George, bo not angry: I knew

and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married.

Enter Caius.

Caius. Vere is mistress Page? by gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; i̇n paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.

Mrs. P. Why, did you take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [exit Caius. Ford. This is strange: who hath got the right Anne?

Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton.

Enter Fenton and Anne Page.
How now, master Fenton?

Anne. Pardon, good father, good my mother, pardon'

Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender?

Mrs. P. Why went you not with master doctor, maid?

Fent. You do amaze her: hear the truth of it.
You would have married her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love.
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy, that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft.
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon
her.

Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy:-
In love the heavens themselves do guide the state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.

Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven

give thee joy!

What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd.
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are
chas'd.

Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your wedding.
Mrs. P. Well, I will muse no further:-Mas-

ter Fenton,

Heaven give you many, many merry days!
Good husband, let us every one go home,
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire:
Sir John and all.

Ford. Let it be so:- Sir John,
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. [exeunt,

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SCENE 1. ROME. BEFORE THE CAPITOL.

АСТ І.

The Tomb of the Andronici appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft as in the Senate. Enter, below, Saturninus and his followers, on one side; and Bassianus and his followers, on the other; with drum and colours.

Sat. NOBLE patricians, patrons of my right, Defend the justice of my cause with arms; And, countrymen, my loving followers, Plead my successive title with your swords: I am his first-born son, that was the last That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; Then let my father's honours live in me, Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. Bas. Romans, friends, followers, favourers of If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son, [my right, Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, Keep then this passage to the capitol; And suffer not dishonour to approach The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, To justice, continence, and nobility: But let desert in pure election shine; And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Enter Marcus Andronicus, aloft, with the crown. Mar. Princes, that strive by factions, and by friends,

Ambitiously for rule and empery,-
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have, by cominon voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius,
For many good and great deserts to Rome;
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls:
He by the senate is accited home,
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;
That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent, since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: Five time he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;

And now. at last, laden with honour's spoils,

Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat,-by honour of his name,
Whom, worthily, you would have now succeed,
And in the capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honour and adore,-
That you withdraw you, and abate your strength;
Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.

Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm iny thoughts!

Bas. Marcus Andronicus; so I do affy In thy uprightness and integrity, And so I love and honour thee and thine, Thy noble brother Titus, and his sons, And her, to whom my thoughts are humbled all, Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, That I will here dismiss my loving friends; And to my fortunes, and the people's favour, Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. [er. Foll.

Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in I thank you all, and here dismiss you all; [my right, And to the love and favour of my country Commit myself, my person, and the cause. [ex. Foll. Rome, be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.Open the gates, and let me in.

Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor [Sat. and Bas. go into the capitol; with Senators,&c

SCENE II. THE SAME.

Enter a Captain, and others. Cap. Romans, make way: the good Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, Successful in the battles that he fights, With honour and with fortune is return'd, From whence he circumscribed with his sword, And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. Flourish of trumpets, &c. Enter Mutius and Martius: after them, two men bearing a coffin, covered with black; then Quintus and Lucius. After them Titus Andronicus; and then Tamora, with Alarbus, Chiron, Demetrius, Aaron, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The bearers set down the coffin, and Titus speaks.

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Tit. Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning | Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive
weeds!

Lo, as the bark, that hath discnarg'd her fraught,
Returns with precious lading to the bay,
From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
To re-salute his country with his tears;
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.-
Thou great defender of this capitol.
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend!-
Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons,
Half of the number that king Priam had,
Behold the poor remains, alive and dead!
These, that survive, let Rome reward with love;
These, that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors: [sword.
Here Goths hath given me leave to sheath my
Titus, unkind, and careless of thine own,
Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet,
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?—
Make way to lay them by their brethren.

[tomb opened.

There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars!
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,

How many sons of mine hast thou in store,
That thou wilt never render to me more!

[queror,

Luc. Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs, and, on a pile,
Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh,
Before this earthly prison of their bones;
That so the shadows be not unappeas'd,
Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth.
Tit. I give him you; the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressed queen.
Tam. Stay, Roman brethren;-Gracious con-
Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother's tears in passion for her son:
And, if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O, think my son to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not, that we are brought to Rome,
To beautify thy triumphs, and return,
Captive to thee, and to thy Roman yoke;
But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets,
For valiant doings in their country's cause?
O! if to fight for king and common weal
Were piety in thine, it is in these.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood:
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge;
Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
Tit. Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld
Alive, and dead; and for their brethren slain,
Religiously they ask a sacrifice:

To this your son is mark'd; and die he must,
To appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Luc. Away with him! and make a fire straight;
And with our swords, upon a pile of wood,
Let's hew his limbs, till they be clean consum'd.
[exeunt Luc. Quin. Mar. and Mut. with Alarb.
Tam. O cruel, irreligious piety!
Chi. Was ever Scythia half so barbarous?
Dem. Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome.

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To tremble under 'fit as' threat'ning look.
Then, madam, stand resolv'd; but hope withal,
The self-same gods, that arm'd the queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent,
May favour Tamora, the queen of Goths
(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen),
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
Re-enter Lucius, Quintus, Martius, and Mutius,
with their swords bloody.

Luc. See, lord and father, how we have perform'd
Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren,
And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome.
Tit. Let it be so, and let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
[trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb.
In peace and honour rest you here, my sons;
Rome's readiest champions, repose you here,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps!
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms,
No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.

Enter Lavinia.

In peace and honour rest you here, my sons!
Lav. In peace and honour live lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame!
Lo! at this tomb my tributary tears
I render, for my brethren's obsequies;
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome:
O, bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.

Tit. Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!-
Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days,
And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise!
Enter Marcus Andronicus, Saturninus, Bassianus,
and others.

Mar. Long live lord Titus, ny beloved brother,
Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome!
Tit. Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother
Marcus.
[wars,

Mar. And welcome, nephews, from successful
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame.
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
That in your country's service drew your swords;
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That hath aspir'd to Solon's happiness,
And triumphs over chance, in honour's bed..
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
Whose friend in justice thou hast eyer been.
Send thee by me, their tribune, and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue;
And name thee in election for the empire,
With these our late-deceased emperor's sons:
Be candidatus then, and put it on,
And help to set a head on headless Rome.

Tit. A better head her glorious body fits,
Than his, that shakes for age and feebleness:
What! should I don this robe, and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations to-day;
To-morrow, yield up rule, resign my life,

And set abroad new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
And led my country's strength successfully:
And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country:
Give me a staff of honour for mine age,
But not a sceptre to control the world:
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. [pery.
Mar. Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the em-
Sat. Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou
Tit. Patience, prince Saturnine. [tell?
Sat. Romans, do me right;-
Patricians, draw your swords, and sheath them not
Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor:-
Andronicus, 'would thou wert shipp'd to hell,
Rather than rob me of the people's hearts.
Luc. Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That noble-minded Titus means to thee!

-

Tit. Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee The people's hearts, and wean them from themBas. Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, [selves. But honour thee, and will do, till I die; My faction, if thou strengthen with thy friends, I will most thankful be: and thanks, to men Of noble minds, is honourable meed.

Tit. People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, I ask your voices, and your suffrages; Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?

Trib. To gratify the good Andronicus, And gratulate his safe return to Rome, The people will accept whom he admits.

Tit. Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I
That you create your emperor's eldest son, [make,
Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome, as Titan's rays on earth,
And ripen justice in this common-weal:
Then if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him, and say,-Long live our emperor!
Mar. With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians, and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus, Rome's great emperor;
And say,-Long live our emperor Saturnine!
[a long flourish.
Sat. Titus Andronicus, for thy favours done
To us in our election this day,

I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness:
And, for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name, and honourable family,
Lavinia will I make my emperess,
Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse:
Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
7. It doth, my worthy lord; and, in this match,
I hold me highly honour'd of your grace:
And here, in sight of Rome, to Saturnine,—
King and commander of our common-weal,
The wide world's emperor,-do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners;
Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord:
Receive them then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet.

Sat. Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! How proud I am of thee, and of thy gifts, Rome shall record; and, when I do forget

The least of these unspeakable deserts, Romans, forget your fealty to me.

peror;

Tit. Now, madam, are you prisoner to an em¬ [to Tamera. To him, that, for your honour and your state, Will use you nobly, and your followers.

Sat. A goodly lady, trust me; of the bue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew.—
Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance;
Though chance of war hath wrought this change
of cheer

Thou com'st not to be made a scorn in Rome:
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes; madam, he comforts you,
Can make you greater than the queen of Goths.—
Lavinia, you are not displeas'd with this?

Lav. Not I, my lord; sith true nobility
Warrants these words in princely courtesy.

Sat. Thanks, sweet Lavinia.-Romans, let us Ramsomless here we set our prisoners free: [go; Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and druin. Bas. Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is [seizing Lavinia.

mine.

Tit. How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord?

Bas. Ay, noble Titus; and resolv'd withal, To do myself this reason and this right.

[the emperor courts Tamora in dumb show. Mar. Suum cuique is our Roman justice: This prince in justice seizeth but his own. Luc. And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. [guard? Tit. Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's Treason, my lord; Lavinia is surpris'd.

Sat. Surpris'd! by whom?
Bas. By him that justly may
Bear his betroth'd from all the world away.

[exeunt Marcus and Bassianus, with Lavinia. Mut. Brothers, help to convey her hence away, And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. [exeunt Lucius, Quintus, and Martius. Tit. Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her Mut. My lord, you pass not here. [back. Tit. What, villain boy!

Barr'st me my way in Rome? [Titus kills Mutius. Mut. Help, Lucius, help.

Re-enter Lucius.

[so,

Luc. My lord, you are unjust: and, more than In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. Tit. Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine: My sons would never so dishonour me: Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. Luc. Dead, if you will; but not to he his wife, That is another's lawful promis love. 1.ait.

Sat. No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, Not her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, Confederates all thus to dishonour me. Was there none else in Rome to make a stale of, But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, That said'st, I begg'd the empire at thy hands. Tit. O monstrous! what reproachful words

are these?

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