Sirrah, Grumio, go to your mistress ;
It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads;
Say I command her to come to me. [exit Grumio. Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair Hor. I know her answer. Pet. What?
Hor. She will not come.
Pet. The fouler fortune mine, and there an end. Enter Katharina.
Bap. Now, by my holidame, here comes Kath- arina! [for me? Kath. What is your will, sir, that you send Pet. Where is your sister, and Hortensio's wife? Kath. They sit conferring by the parlour fire. Pet. Go, fetch them hither; if they deny to
And in no sense is meet, or amiable. Tads. A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe: And craves no other tribute at thy hands, Swinge me them soundly forth unto their hus-But love, fair looks, and true obedience :Away, I say, and bring them hither straight. Too little payment for so great a debt. [exit Katharina. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Luc. Here is a wonder, if you talk of a wonder. Even such, a woman oweth to her husband: Hor. And so it is: I wonder what it bodes. And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, Pet. Marry, peace it bodes, and love, and quiet And not obedient to his honest will, An awful rule, and right supremacy; [life, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, And, to be short, what not, that's sweet and happy. And graceless traitor to her loving lord?— Bap. Now fair befal thee, good Petruchio! I am asham'd, that women are so simple The wager thou hast won; and I will add To offer war, where they should kneel for peace; Unto their losses twenty thousand crowns; Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, Another dowry to another daughter, Where they are bound to serve, love, and obey. For she is chang'd, as she had never been. Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the world: But that our soft conditions, and our hearts, Should well agree with our external parts? Come, come, you froward and unable worms! My mind hath been as big as one of yours, My heart as great; my reason, haply, more, To bandy word for word, and frown for frown : But now, I see, our lances are but straws; [pare,Our strength as weak, our weakness past comThat seeming to be most, which we least are. Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot; And place your hands below your husband's foot: In token of which duty, if he please, My band is ready, may it do him ease. Pet. Why, there's a wench!—Come on, and kiss me, Kate. [shalt ha't. Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad; for thou Vin. 'Tis a good hearing, when children are toward. [froward.
Pet. Nay, I will win my wager better yet; And show more sign of her obedience, Her new-built virtue and obedience.
Re-enter Katharina, with Bianca and Widow. See, where she comes; and brings your froward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.— Katharine, that cap of yours becomes you not; Off with that bauble, throw it under foot.
[Kath. pulls off her cap, and throws it down. Wid. Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh, Till I be brought to such a silly pass!
Bian. Fie! what a foolish duty call you this? Luc. I would, your duty were as foolish too : The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca, Hath cost me an hundred crowns since supper time,
Bian. The more fool you, for laying on my Pet. Katharine, I charge thee, tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lords and husbands. Wid. Come, come, you're mocking; we will have no telling.
Pet. Come on, I say; and first begin with her. Wid. She shall not.
Pet. I say she shall;-and first begin with her. Kath. Fie, fie! unknit that threat'ning unkind
Aud dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wround thy lord, thy king, thy governor :
Luc. But a harsh hearing, when women are Pet. Come, Kate, we'll to bed:
We three are married, but you two are sped. 'Twas I won the wager, though you hit the white : [to Lucentio.
And, being a winner, God give you good night' [exeunt Petruchio and Katharing. Hor. Now go thy ways, thou hast tam da crut shrew.
Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be [aroun
SCENE. During a great part of the play, at Rome; afterwards at Sardis; and near Philippt.
Enter Flavius, Marullus, and a rabble of Citizens. Flav. HENCE; home, you idle creatures, get you home;
Is this a holiday? What! know you not, Being mechanical, you ought not walk Upon a labouring day, without the sign Of your profession?-Speak, what trade art thou? 1 Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter.
Mar. Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? What dost thou with thy best apparel on? You, sir; what trade are you?
2 Cit. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. Mar. But what trade art thou? Answer me directly.
2 Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soals.
Mar. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade?
2 Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Mar. What meanest thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?
2 Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou?
2 Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is, with the awl: I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's-leather, have gone upon my handywork.
Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day? Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? 2 Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Cæsar, and to rejoice in his triumph.
Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings
What tributaries follow him to Rome,
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseles things
O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. And, when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made an universal shout, That Tyber trembled underneath her banks, To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in her concave shores? And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now call out a holiday? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone;
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague That needs must light on this ingratitude.
Flav. Go, go, good countrymen, and for this Assemble all the poor men of your sort; [fault, Draw them to Tyber banks, and weep your tears Into the channel, till the lowest stream Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. [exeuni Cit. See, whe'r their basest metal be not mov'd; They vanish, tongue-tied in their guiltiness Go you down that way towards the Capitol; This way will I disrobe the images, If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. Mar. May we do so? You know, it is the feast of Lupercal.
Flav. It is no matter; let no images Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, And drive away the vulgar from the streets: So do you too, where you perceive them thick. These growing feathers, pluck'd from Cesar's Will make him fly an ordinary pitch; [wing
Who else would soar above the view of men, And keep us all in servile fearfulness. [exeunt.
SCENE II. THE SAME. A PUBLIC PLACE.
Enter, in procession, with music, Cæsar; Antony, for the course; Calphurnia, Portia, Decius, Cicero, Brutus, Cassius, and Casca; a great crowd following; among them a Soothsayer. Cæs. Calphurnia,—
Casca. Peace, ho! Cæsar speaks. [music cases. Cæs. Calphurnia,
Cas. Stand you directly in Antonius' way, When he doth run his course. Antonius.
Cæs. Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, To touch Calphurnia: for our elders say, The barren, touched in this holy chase, Shake off their steril curse.
Ant. I shall remember:
When Cæsar says, Do this, it is perform'd. Cæs. Set on; and leave no ceremony out. [music. Sooth. Cæsar.
[again. Casca. Bid every noise be still:-peace yet Cas. Who is it in the press, that calls on me? I hear a tongue shriller than all the music, Cry, Cæsar-speak; Cæsar is turn'd to hear. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. Cæs. What man is that?
[March. Bru. A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of Cas. Set him before me, let me see his face. Cas. Fellow, come from the throng: Look upon Cæsar.
Cæs. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once Sooth. Beware the ides of March. [again. Cæs. He is a dreamer; let us leave him :-pass. [sennet; exeunt all but Brutus and Cassius. Cas. Will you go see the order of the course? Bru. Not I.
Bru. I am not gamesome: I do lack some part Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; I'll leave you.
Cas. Brutus, I do observe you now of late: I have not from your eyes that gentleness, And show of love, as I was wont to have: You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand Over your friend that loves you.
Be not deceiv'd: if I have veil'd my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Merely upon myself. Vexed I am, Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to myself, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviours: But let not therefore my good friends be griev'd; (Among which number, Cassius, be you one ;) Nor construe any farther my neglect, 'Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, Forgets the shows of love to other men.
Cas. Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion;
By means whereof, this breast of mine hath buried Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face?
Bru. No, Cassius: for the eye sees not itself, But by reflection, by some other things. Cas. 'Tis just:
And it is very much lamented, Brutus, That you have no such mirrors, as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye, That you might see your shadow. I have heard, Where many of the best respect in Rome, (Except immortal Cæsar,) speaking of Brutus, And groaning underneath this age's yoke, Have wish'd, that noble Brutus had his eyes, Bru. Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius,
That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?
[hear: Cas. Therefore, good Brutus, be prepar'd to And, since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass, Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which you yet know not of. And be not jealous of me, gentle Brutus : Were I a common laugher, or did use To stale with ordinary oaths my love To every new protester; if you know That I do fawn on men, and hug them hard, And after scandal them; or if you know That I profess myself in banqueting To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. [shout. Bru. What means this shouting? I do fear, the Choose Cæsar for their king. [people
Cas. Ay, do you fear it?
Then must I think you would not have it so.
Bru. I would not, Cassius, yet I love him well: But wherefore do you hold me here so long? What is it that you would impart to me? If it be aught toward the general good, Set honour in one eye, and death i'the other, And I will look on both indifferently: For, let the gods so speed me, as I love The name of honour more than I fear death.
Cas. I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, As well as I do know your outward favour. Well, honour is the subject of my story.- I cannot tell, what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. I was born free as Cæsar; so were you: We both have fed as well; and we can both Endure the winter's cold, as well as he. For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tyber chafing with her shores, Cæsar said to me, Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point?-Upon the word, Accouter'd as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow: so, indeed, he did. The torrent roar'd; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews; throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. But, ere we could arrive the point propos'd, Cæsar cry'd, Help me, Cassius, or I sink. I, as Æneas, our great ancestor,
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Did I the tired Cæsar: and this man [Tybe:
Is now become a god; and Cassius is
A wretched creature, and must bend his body, If Cæsar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: His coward lips did from their colour fly; And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas! it cried, give me some drink, Titinius,- As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone.
Bru. Another general shout!
Cas. As they pass by, pluck Casca by the
And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you What hath proceeded, worthy note, to day.
Bru. I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, And all the rest look like a chidden train: Calphurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes As we have seen him in the Capitol, Being cross'd in conference by some senators. Cas. Casca will tell us what the matter is. Cæs. Antonius.
Cæs. Let me have men about me, that are fat; [shout, flourish. Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o'nights : Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. Ant. Fear him not, Cæsar, he's not dangerous; He is a noble Roman, and well given.
I do believe, that these applauses are For some new honours that are heap'd on Cæsar. Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow Like a Colossus; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus, and Cæsar:—what should be in that Cæsar? [yours? Why should that name be sounded more than Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. [shout. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, That he is grown so great? Age, thou art sham'd: Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! When went there by an age, since the great flood, But it was fam'd with more than with one man? When could they say, till now, that talk'd of Rome, That her wide walks encompass'd but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, When there is in it but one only man. O! you and I have heard our fathers say, There was a Brutus once, that would have brook'd The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, As easily as a king.
Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; What you would work me to, I have some aim: How I have thought of this, and of these times, I shall recount hereafter; for this present, I would not, so with love I might entreat you, Be any further mov'd. What you have said, I will consider; what you have to say, I will with patience hear; and find a time Both meet to hear, and answer, such high things. Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this; Brutus had rather be a villager, Than to repute himself a son of Rome Under these hard conditions, as this time Is like to lay upon us.
Cas. I am glad, that my weak words [Brutus. Have struck but thus much show of fire from Re-enter Cæsar and his train.
Cas. 'Would he were fatter:-but I fear him Yet, if my name were liable to fear,
I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort, As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. Such men as he be never at heart's ease, Whiles they behold a greater than themselves; And therefore are they very dangerous. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Than what I fear; for always I am Cæsar. Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. [exeunt Cæsar and his train; Casca stays behind. Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me?
Bru. Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanc'd to- That Cæsar looks so sad. [day, [chanc'd.
Casca. Why, you were with him, were you
not? Bru. I should not then ask Casca what hatk Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him: and being offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus; and then the people fell a- shouting.
Bru. What was the second noise for Casca. Why, for that too.
Cas. They shouted thrice; what was the last Casca. Why, for that too.
Bru. Was the crown offered him thrice? Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every time gentler than other; and at every putting by, mine honest neighbours shouted. Cas. Who offered him the crown? Casca. Why, Antony.
Bru. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. Casca. I can as well be hanged, as tell the manner of it; it was mere foolery. I did not mark it. I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown ;— yet 'twas not a crown neither, 'twas one of these Bru. The games are done, and Caesar is re- coronets;-and, as I told you, he put it by ouce; but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain
Bru. And so it is. For this time I will leave To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, I will come home to you; or, if you will, Come home to me, and I will wait for you. Cas. I will do so:-till then, think of world. [erit Brutus
have had it. Then he offered it to him again; | With better appetite. then he put it by again: but, to my thinking, he was very loth to lay his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by and still as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking breath, because Cæsar re- fused the crown, that it had almost choked Cæsar; for he swooned, and fell down at it: and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of opening my lips, and receiving the bad air.
Cas. But, soft, I pray you; what? did Cæsar
Well, Brutus, thou art noble ; yet, Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is dispos'd: therefore, 'tis meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes: For who so firm, that cannot be seduc'd? Cæsar doth bear me hard; but he loves Bratus. If I were Brutus now, and he were Cassius, Casca. He fell down in the market-place, and He should not humour me. I will this night, foamed at mouth, and was speechless. In several hands, in at his windows throw, As if they came from several citizens, Writings, all tending to the great opinion That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely Cæsar's ambition shall be glanced at: And, after this, let Caesar seat him sure; For we shall shake him, or worse days endure. ferit.
Bru. 'Tis very like: he hath the falling-sickness. Cas. No, Cæsar hath it not; but you, and I, And honest Casca, we have the falling-sickness. Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, Cæsar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him, and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. Bru. What said he, when he came unto himself? Casca. Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the common herd was glad he refused the crown, he plucked me ope his doublet, and offered them his throat to cut.-An' I had been a man of any occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, I would I might go to hell among the rogues:-and so he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, if he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three or four wenches, where I stood, cried, Alas, good soul! and forgave him with all their hearts: but there's no heed to be taken of them; if Cæsar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. Bru. And after that, he came, thus sad, away? Casca. Ay,
Cas. Did Cicero say any thing? Casca. Ay, he spoke Greek. Cas. To what effect?
Casca. Nay, an I tell you that, I'll ne'er look you i'the face again: but those, that understood him, smiled at one another, and shook their heads: but for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs of Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.
Cas. Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? Casca. No, I am promised forth. Cas. Will you dine with me to-morrow? Casca. Ay, if I be alive, and your mind hold, and your dinner worth the eating.
Cas. Good; I will expect you. Casca. Do so: farewell, both. [exit Casca. Bru. What a blunt fellow is this grown to be? He was quick mettle, when he went to school.
Cas. So is he now, in execution
Of any bold or noble enterprise, However he puts on this tardy form. This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words
SCENE III. THE SAME. A STREET.
Thunder and lightning. Enter, from opposite sides, Casca, with his sword drawn, and Cicero. Cic. Good even, Casca: brought you Cæsar
Why are you breathless? and why stare you so?
Casca. Are not you mov'd, when all the sway of Shakes, like a thing unfirm? O, Cicero, [earth I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have riv'd the knotty oaks; and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell, and rage, and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds: But never till to-night, never till now, Did go through a tempest dropping fire. Either there is civil strife in heaven; Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, Incenses them to send destruction.
Cic. Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? Casca. A common slave (you know him well
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn Like twenty torches join'd; and yet his hand, Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. Besides, (I have not since put up my sword,) Against the Capitol I met a lion, Who glar'd upon me, and went surly by, Without annoying me: and there were drawn Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, Transformed with their fear; who swore, they saw Men, all in fire, walk up and down the streets. And, yesterday, the bird of night did sit, Even at noon-day, upon the market-place, Hooting, and shrieking. When these prodigies Do so conjointly meet, let not men say, These are their reasons,-they are natural; For, I believe, they are portentous things Unto the climate that they point upon.
Cic. Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: But men may construe things after their fashion, Clean from the purpose of the things themselves, Comes Cæsar to the Capitol to-morrow?
Casca. He doth; for he did bid Antonius Send word to you, he would be there to-morrow
« PreviousContinue » |